Harry James Potter was an ordinary, scruffy looking teenager to most. Black hair that grew all over the place, green eyes hidden behind hair and glasses, a little on the skinny side, but healthy looking nonetheless. You could tell he didn't have clothes that he owned himself. This evening in the park, on the swings, he wore a plaid shirt and a pair of pants; both a little worse for wear and both looking as though they had to be taken in exceedingly in order for them to be wearable.
Most people in the housing estate would stay away from this boy. He was strange, an outcast of sorts. The orphaned nephew of Petunia and Vernon Dursley. He was always skinny and scruffy – unappealing to the people in this area. So it was no surprise that no one saw what a more caring friend would. No one saw the tears or sadness. No one saw the weight he bore from his previous year. Last year, he saw his last caring family member die. All because he, Harry Potter, played the hero and was nearly killed himself by Lord Voldemort, his archenemy and threat to the world as a whole.
It would be sensible to say then, that Harry Potter was no ordinary teenage boy. During the summer holidays, when he's living with his aunt and her family, he would be Harry Potter, attendee to Saint Brutus' and unstable. But, for the rest of the year, when he boards the bright red steam engine from platform nine and three-quarters at Kings Cross Station, he is Harry Potter, student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 'The Boy Who Lived' and was for most of the last school year, considered unstable. A wizard, he was, for the past coming-up-to six years, albeit a wizard in training. Admittedly, he was a little good, but he figured most of that was luck rather than talent. To him, it seemed his luck was all that kept him alive and he felt that since the death of his Godfather, his luck was finally running out.
"I should have listened to you, Hermione..." he muttered, wiping away the tears. But that was too late now. Because now, Sirius was dead. He won't come back. There was no sympathy at Number 4, Privet Drive for him either. He was ignored, as usual, by his aunt and uncle, and feared by his cousin. Letters were, like last year, few and far between. It still hurt that he was kept out of the loop, but maybe it was for the best. He was rash last year. Too rash. He had to try and do better this year. He was responsible now. Responsible for vanquishing Voldemort nearly fifteen years ago and five and four years ago, too; responsible for bringing him back two years ago and now responsible... Responsible for fighting him and defeating him once and for all.
Whether he was up to the mighty task was anyone's guess right now.
The sun had long set, but Harry still sat on the swings. He wondered if his cousin Dudley was home yet. If that was the case, then Harry would be in so much trouble if he waltzed in now. He didn't care. Then Harry wondered again. Was he just wallowing in self-pity? If he was, then why stop now. The only one he could think of pitying him at all right now was himself. Everyone else had their own problems, after all...
"This way!"
Four girls ran through the streets in the moonlight. Luckily, even though they were in London, these backstreets were empty, so they could use whatever power was available to them. Unfortunately for them though, so could their pursuers. Not good. The blue haired girl squealed as a spell zoomed past her ear. In retaliation, she grabbed the closest thing she could and threw it behind her. The bin bag exploded, showering two of the men in various kitchen waste, but their comrades continued to run after them. The girl grimaced as she continued running, wiping the garbage water from her hands onto her denim shorts. "Ew..."
The quartet skidded to a halt momentarily. They had come to a split in the alley. Either way could be good or bad.
"Hurry up... which way...?" The blonde said, looking down either alley.
"One potato, two potato... OW!"
The blue haired girl rubbed her head where her tanned Egyptian friend had whacked her one. The Egyptian scowled. "We're chased by some weird guys that are shooting magic at us for no reason and you stand here singing the Potato Song!?"
"No time for arguing... This way!"
Their black haired friend, the last in their number, ran down the lane opposite to what the blue haired girl would have chosen. The blonde and the tanned girls followed. The last female pouted. "But what about the Potato Song!?"
She squealed again and took off after her friends when a spell zoomed by her head. Now's not the time to be arguing over a song...
Not that it mattered anyway. An hour later, the four girls were silently being frog-marched to their cells. Only when the metal bars slammed shut, leaving all four girls in the darkness did one of them speak.
"....Told you we should have listened to the Potato Song..."
She squealed as she was suddenly shocked all over by lightning.
"Oh, shut up..."
"BOY!"
Harry pried an eye open. He was unsure what time he went to sleep last night. All he could recall was that he was momentarily chastised by his aunt and uncle for coming in at sometime around ten o'clock last night then going to his room and moping on his bed. Slowly, he recollected his head. It wasn't a deep sleep. He thought he dreamt... Something with Aurors, night-time and... a song about Potatos?
"BOY!"
They must really want me to do something... Harry though as he dragged himself out of bed. Seeing as how he wore exactly what he wore when he was out in the previous night, all he did was run a hand through his hair and grabbed his glasses, plodding down the stairs slowly and heavily. He somehow found his way into the kitchen, standing in front of his aunt and uncle. Uncle Vernon looked particularly red in the face and displeased about something. Aunt Petunia on the other hand, whilst looking unhappy, had something of an air of concern about her.
"Sit", she commanded, Harry instantly complying. At least her voice still resembled that of Mrs Dursley. Petunia Dursley stared down at Harry for a moment, whilst a very agitated looking Uncle Vernon was now twisting his moustache this way and that. Finally, Harry's mother's sister took a deep breath and squeezed her husband's shoulder.
"Your Uncle and I had a talk this morning, Harry. First of all, we want to emphasise that you are not to come home late again."
"Don't want those freaks visiting us for negligence or whatever..." Uncle Vernon muttered.
"Secondly, explain yourself. Ever since you came back from that... that school, you have been less than yourself."
Harry simply stared. What was wrong with Aunt Petunia today; she sounded like she actually pitied him.
"Well, boy? We don't have all day."
"Well... some bad stuff happened..."
"Hah!" Uncle Vernon exclaimed, triumphant. "So what? School itself got blown up? Those crackpots have been arrested? Exterminated? Out with it, boy."
Harry clammed up. Without realising it, Uncle Vernon probably voiced Harry's worst fear. Aunt Petunia squeezed Vernon's shoulder again and looked at Harry sternly.
"Is that what happened?"
Harry shook his head slowly. His eyes were now tracing the pattern the wood grain in the kitchen table, his mind imagining Uncle Vernon's face now. Instead, Uncle Vernon now tapped his fingers on the table top, waiting for an answer. Harry took a deep breath.
"My...someone close to me... died last month."
"So that's why you're depressed. Blown up like your parents, I expect."
"Don't say that!" Harry cried, standing and scaring the life out of the Dursleys. "Don't ever say that! You don't even acknowledge the truth, do you!? My parents were murdered fifteen years ago because of me! Cedric was killed two years ago because of me. And only last month, Sirius died trying to save me! I don't know about you, but I think that's ample reason for me to be depressed!"
Uncle Vernon grew redder with the outburst, whilst Aunt Petunia glanced nervously at the windows as though the neighbours had pressed their ears against all the shut windows. Without waiting for an answer or retort, Harry sprinted to his room, locking his door behind him. Lying face down on his bed, Harry pressed his face into a pillow. Well, it was out. He admitted to being the cause of four deaths which could have been avoided. Somehow, it felt a little better, though he could only imagine what would happen now. After all, the Dursleys wouldn't want someone so dangerous under their roof now...
"The accused is present. Let us begin. Mr Weasley, are you ready?"
"Yes, sir."
All eyes were directed to the centre of the room, where four new captives were held. They were strange to the eye, certainly. Definitely not very Muggle-like at the very least. The first of the young women was a tanned lady in very revealing, very tight clothing. Her eyes displayed some semblance of power, and not just from its constantly changing colour. Her waist long hair was split in the centre, making the left side of her head display a deep amethyst colouration, whilst the right was a bright ebony. Next to her was a young girl of similar age, and of appearance so bright that one required a Darkening Charm cast before their eyes in order to look at her directly. Her clothes were simple Muggle looking clothes; a bright neon yellow and green t-shirt and a pair of denim shorts and trainers. However, her naturally occurring blue hair with twin silver streaks that ran from her fringe to the tips of her long ponytail, and her bright, almost neon green eyes was definitely not of Muggle origins. The third was the most Muggle looking of the quartet. She was a petite blonde, blue eyed young miss, dressed modestly but smartly; or as smartly as one could get when they spent one half of the night running and the other half holed up in a cell. Last of their number was a waist length-raven haired young woman, her eyes a deeper, darker green than that of her brightly dressed companion two seats down. Her attire was probably the most sensible for the activities of the night before; a green sleeveless full body cat suit, a pair of black knee high boots and very long black gloves. The only other accessory visible was a black leather belt with a round silver buckle. Overall, she looked like a normal, if action-ready woman. Pity about the green tinge to her skin.
From their rather imposing looking seats in the centre, the girls looked back at the court room. About fifty something plum-robed people were in the dark dungeon staring back at them. Most looked curious, some seem to look at them as though they were expecting the girls to jump out and blast them to oblivion. To them, the most prominent looking people in the crowd were the large man in the centre, women either side of him and a violently red-haired young man at the end sporting a pair of horn-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose. Others were submerged in darkness, so near invisible to the watchful eyes of the 'accused'. What they were accused of, they hope to find out.
The fat man cleared his throat. "Court hearing on the twenty-ninth of July, into offences committed under the International Statute of Secrecy and for suspected Dark Magical Activities in the city of London. Please state your names."
None of the girls spoke at first, still trying to process the information. Statute of Secrecy for what? Dark Magical Activities? Finally, nervously, the blonde girl stood, hands clasped in front of her. After she said her piece, her Egyptian, black haired, then blue haired friends all stood up and introduced themselves.
"Emerald Fire."
"ShadowYami, or if you prefer Khalida Damis."
"Mercury Sands."
"Anime the Fallen Angel."
All four names were met with stares; especially the last one. Surely they heard wrong. Fallen Angel!? The large gentleman nodded, his expression more than expressing his belief that the girls were lying and spoke again. "Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley."
The man the girls now know as Fudge ('Reminds me... I'm hungry' muttered ShadowYami) picked up a roll of what was recognised as parchment and unrolled it, reading in a clear and loud voice. "The charges against the accused are as follows: "That they did knowingly and deliberately summon a wall of fire and a cloud of lightning in a Muggle-inhabited area on the twenty-eighth of July at four minutes past eleven in the evening, which constitutes an offence under Section Thirteen of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy, and possibly, given the lack of information on the accused, an offence under Paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875. In addition, the accused are also charged with collaboration with Dark Wizards and Witches on the night of the twenty- seventh of July, having been spotted with a group of suspects on said night." "You are..."
Fudge leant over to Percy Ignatius Weasley, who showed him the part of the parchment he was scribbling on. "Emerald Fire, ShadowYami, otherwise known as Khalida Damis, Mercury Sands and Anime, the Fallen Angel...?"
All four girls nodded. One of the women spoke up, her high girlish voice going right through some of them. "A vocal answer, if you please..."
"Yes" all four replied almost instantly.
"You all used rather potent magic on the night of the twenty eighth of July?"
"Well..." the girls looked at each other before Emerald and Mercury nodded. "We did. Yes... but in..."
"In the vicinity of Muggles?"
"Hang on, what are..."
"IN the vicinity of Muggles?"
"What are Muggles?"
The crowd whispered amongst themselves, though Cornelius Fudge's expression didn't change. "I'm sorry, ladies, but considering the position you are in, I wouldn't be asking such... unintelligent questions. I am sure you know perfectly well what..."
"Like Hell we do!" ShadowYami protested, standing.
"Hey." Anime said, pouting.
Her friends dimly registered the remark. Emerald stood up, asking ShadowYami to calm down and let her handle it through her eyes. It took a while, but the two tone-haired girl finally obliged, though not that happily. The blonde girl looked at the panel and crowd before her, suddenly a little tongue tied. She swallowed several times before finding her voice.
"Well... This is hard to explain... even harder since I'm not... from around here, so to speak..."
"Miss Fire, if you please..."
"Let me speak in our defence, please. You see, the only reason Mercury and myself used our magic against your men was... well, we thought they were hostile against us. It's not very reassuring to have a crowd of strange people chasing us through the city back streets when we haven't knowingly done something wrong."
"And you recognise now that you have done something wrong?"
"Well, I guess we wouldn't be here if we didn't."
"Thank you, Miss Fire. You've said your piece. Be seated."
"But..."
"Be seated."
Emerald slowly sank into her seat. The rest of the dungeon occupants whispered amongst themselves. In the back where the girls could hardly see for the shadows, two men were conversing quite closely together. Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of the only English based magic school Hogwarts and Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, reinstated Auror for the Ministry were whispering between themselves, interested in the four girls.
"Is it just my diminishing eye-sight Alastor, or is that young lady at the other end a rather sickly colour?"
"The one with the green skin? I'd eat my other eye if I said that was artificial."
"What do you make of them?"
"Me?" the heavily scarred man gave a low bark of a laugh. "Well, if I actually put my mind to it, I'd say they would be innocent Muggle girls going to a party. But..."
"But how is it that two of the young women could use some powerful magic and their friends are unsurprised at the news... Interesting, I'm sure you would agree."
Cornelius Fudge cleared his throat loudly. "Well, I suppose that was quite a stir for all of us in the courtroom. Onto your liaisons with gentlemen Crabbe and Goyle; what were you discussing?"
"Who're..."
"Messers Crabbe and Goyle are members of The Dark Lord's team of Death Eaters. You four were observed to have met them in a back street in Central London and discussing matters about a certain unnamed gentleman on the night of the twenty-seventh of July. Do you deny meeting them?"
"First off, you haven't answered our question before, which I personally find rude."
The other three girls glanced down at Mercury, who had her arms folded and sat back in her chair. They turned and looked at the crowd before them, expectantly. Everything was silent until a strong voice from somewhere in the shadows spoke up.
"I propose we individually interview each young lady separately. Under the influence of Veritaserum, of course..."
Moody looked at Dumbledore, who was thoughtful and looking at the girls, intrigued. Fudge seemed to grow slightly redder but nodded. "Alright then... the Wizengamot will be in recess whilst some Veritaserum becomes available and eight Aurors volunteer for the task. Meanwhile, you four girls will be held in your cells. Dismissed."
A light tapping on his bedroom door surprised Harry. Normally, people would just barge into his room without care, why the sudden niceties of knocking on his door? Pulling himself out of bed, Harry crossed the relatively short space and cracked the door open, looking out and straight into Aunt Petunia. She still looked somewhat cross and nervous, but then again, didn't she always?
"I want to speak you. In private. May I come in?"
Harry blinked. Did his behaviour merit a personal and private visit? Was that good or bad, considering in the past he was usually just shoved into the cupboard under the stairs or locked in his room? Moving slightly to one side, Harry allowed his aunt through into his room. She stepped in, immediately visibly scrutinising every inch of his room. This was the one room in the house she never dared venture into since it officially became Harry's room, and now she was regretting maybe doing that very thing. Her eagle like eyes picked up dirt and dust and all kinds of nasty areas that required a good household polish. Turning to look at her nephew, she barked at him in a very Dursley-ish manner that he was familiar with. "Shut that door, boy. Your Uncle doesn't want to hear a word of what we say."
Harry complied. So his Uncle was still acting normally. At least some things didn't change. When the door gave the quiet click, Harry found Aunt Petunia had made herself comfortable on his chair by the desk, looking expectantly on a spot on the bed where he was expected to sit. So he sat. For a whole minute, they just stared. This gave Harry time to really look at his aunt. As far as he could see, she was nothing like his mother, no matter how much blood had linked them. He recalled from his photos of her that she was a kind hearted woman, with his eyes. Unlike his, Lily Potter's eyes were carefree and happy. Aunt Petunia cleared her throat and started speaking, albeit slowly and carefully, as though he may whip out his wand and hex her if she made any sudden movements.
"Well.... Harry. Explain your outburst down stairs. What is this business about people dying?"
Harry fidgeted. "Well... what do you mean?"
"I mean, what about them? I know that Lily and... your father were murdered. Your crackpot of a headmaster told me. Rather inappropriately, if you ask me. Really, as if that is the type of thing you put in a letter...."
Harry stared at his Aunt. He'd never dreamed in a million years that this would be the kind of conversation that he'd have with his Aunt of all people. "You mean... how?"
"Yes, yes... out with it."
Harry stared at his feet. For a few minutes, he was given free rein to speak about what happened. It was a little safe after all; Aunt Petunia had gotten up about thirty seconds after he started explaining to make sure the window was properly shut and his curtains drawn, so no one could even lip read him. It took a full seven minutes, but Harry condensed down what happened in the last two years, with Voldemort's return and his appearance last term. He explained Cedric's and Sirius's deaths, trying hard to remain calm. It was funny. At the end of term, he was just fine. He was coping. Yet here he was, pouring it all out to the unlikeliest of people. Harry ended his story, glancing at his aunt. She was sitting rather rigidly, but hadn't interrupted him at all during the speech. For a few seconds, Aunt Petunia pursed and unpursed her lips, looking as though she was trying to eat a particularly sour lemon.
"So... Lord what's his name..."
"Voldemort."
"Yes, him. He's back?"
"Yes."
Aunt Petunia paled a little, a more normal reaction that Harry was used to whenever he spoke of the Dark Lord. Aunt Petunia thought for a while then spoke again. "And as long as you can call this home, then you're safe... But what about my family?"
"I... I don't know..."
Aunt Petunia frowned and let her mind clog its way. Harry watched nervously. It was very strange to speak about magical things to his Aunt, who made it very clear she hated anything to do with 'his kind' in the house.
"...Lily was killed by him..."
The statement startled Harry a little. There was a definite hint of emotion in her voice, but not pride for her son or anger or fear for the wizards...
"Lily..."
Finally, Aunt Petunia stood.
"Wait here." She commanded, leaving his room. Harry stared for what felt like no time at all until Aunt Petunia returned, a tatty looking shoebox in her arms. She shut the door behind her and resumed her seat, holding the box out to Harry.
"Well? Take it." she snapped.
Gingerly as he would a bomb, Harry took the box. It was like him in away. Tattered and worn and a thing that wouldn't be allowed in the house under normal circumstance. He slowly undid the string that held it together and lifted away the lid. Inside the box was a pile of photographs. Normal Muggle ones. Harry glanced up at his aunt before picking one up. He took in a sharp breath. Lily Evans, aged maybe fifteen was sat on the grass at a park, smiling for the camera. He picked up another one. There was Lily again, aged nine. He could tell, because she had a big nine shaped cake in front of her with LILY scrolled across it in icing. A party hat was strapped to her head, one arm around another girl slightly older herself. Although they looked a little different (well, quite a bit, actually....), Harry knew who that other girl was.
"That's..."
"Your mother and I? Yes. Two years before her letter."
Harry glanced up at the tight voice. He wasn't positive, but it looked like Aunt Petunia was holding back. She noticed Harry staring and cleared her throat. "My parents passed away when you were two. They made me promise that I would pass these photos to you. Said you deserved something of them. So those are yours."
His grandparents on his mother's side. He'd nearly forgotten about them. They were more accepting about magic in their house. Pity they died when he was younger...
"You have her eyes you know..."
Harry jumped again. What was the world coming to? Harry was used to people saying he had his mother's eyes, but to have it come from his only blood relative...
"I... do?"
Aunt Petunia stood and made to leave the room. She paused, her hand over the door knob. "...You do have Lily's eyes... and you behave a little like her. Lily and I were close when we were younger, before she became... Sometimes, she would mope for days when we were growing up, if something terrible happened. Wouldn't talk about it. I was always the one who makes her spit it out. And you're like her... I made you spit it out. If you're anymore like her... I'd say you're over the worst of it now."
And with that, Aunt Petunia made a hasty exit, closing the door too hard to be conscientious, but softly enough to know she didn't mean to slam. Harry stared wide-eyed. Of all people.... Of all people to compare him to his mother...
Somehow, it meant all so much more when the comparisons came from his aunt's mouth...
Anime: O.O. Read through it three times... And I still think this is huge!
Ahearn: Indeed.
Anime: What's worse... I've two other fics that are no where near finished yet, and I'm doing this!?
Ahearn: You have gotten yourself in a pickle.
Anime: -sigh- Nothing to do about it now. I'm in a bind with SAEM for putting this up anyway, so up it goes! And for you people out there, check out YuGiOh SAEM by Emerald Princess of Vernea! She's the E in SAEM and the hikari of our team. Plus, look out for ShadowYami's and Mercury Sands' SAEM editions of your favourite animes, out in a fanfiction near you!
Ahearn: .....
Most people in the housing estate would stay away from this boy. He was strange, an outcast of sorts. The orphaned nephew of Petunia and Vernon Dursley. He was always skinny and scruffy – unappealing to the people in this area. So it was no surprise that no one saw what a more caring friend would. No one saw the tears or sadness. No one saw the weight he bore from his previous year. Last year, he saw his last caring family member die. All because he, Harry Potter, played the hero and was nearly killed himself by Lord Voldemort, his archenemy and threat to the world as a whole.
It would be sensible to say then, that Harry Potter was no ordinary teenage boy. During the summer holidays, when he's living with his aunt and her family, he would be Harry Potter, attendee to Saint Brutus' and unstable. But, for the rest of the year, when he boards the bright red steam engine from platform nine and three-quarters at Kings Cross Station, he is Harry Potter, student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 'The Boy Who Lived' and was for most of the last school year, considered unstable. A wizard, he was, for the past coming-up-to six years, albeit a wizard in training. Admittedly, he was a little good, but he figured most of that was luck rather than talent. To him, it seemed his luck was all that kept him alive and he felt that since the death of his Godfather, his luck was finally running out.
"I should have listened to you, Hermione..." he muttered, wiping away the tears. But that was too late now. Because now, Sirius was dead. He won't come back. There was no sympathy at Number 4, Privet Drive for him either. He was ignored, as usual, by his aunt and uncle, and feared by his cousin. Letters were, like last year, few and far between. It still hurt that he was kept out of the loop, but maybe it was for the best. He was rash last year. Too rash. He had to try and do better this year. He was responsible now. Responsible for vanquishing Voldemort nearly fifteen years ago and five and four years ago, too; responsible for bringing him back two years ago and now responsible... Responsible for fighting him and defeating him once and for all.
Whether he was up to the mighty task was anyone's guess right now.
The sun had long set, but Harry still sat on the swings. He wondered if his cousin Dudley was home yet. If that was the case, then Harry would be in so much trouble if he waltzed in now. He didn't care. Then Harry wondered again. Was he just wallowing in self-pity? If he was, then why stop now. The only one he could think of pitying him at all right now was himself. Everyone else had their own problems, after all...
"This way!"
Four girls ran through the streets in the moonlight. Luckily, even though they were in London, these backstreets were empty, so they could use whatever power was available to them. Unfortunately for them though, so could their pursuers. Not good. The blue haired girl squealed as a spell zoomed past her ear. In retaliation, she grabbed the closest thing she could and threw it behind her. The bin bag exploded, showering two of the men in various kitchen waste, but their comrades continued to run after them. The girl grimaced as she continued running, wiping the garbage water from her hands onto her denim shorts. "Ew..."
The quartet skidded to a halt momentarily. They had come to a split in the alley. Either way could be good or bad.
"Hurry up... which way...?" The blonde said, looking down either alley.
"One potato, two potato... OW!"
The blue haired girl rubbed her head where her tanned Egyptian friend had whacked her one. The Egyptian scowled. "We're chased by some weird guys that are shooting magic at us for no reason and you stand here singing the Potato Song!?"
"No time for arguing... This way!"
Their black haired friend, the last in their number, ran down the lane opposite to what the blue haired girl would have chosen. The blonde and the tanned girls followed. The last female pouted. "But what about the Potato Song!?"
She squealed again and took off after her friends when a spell zoomed by her head. Now's not the time to be arguing over a song...
Not that it mattered anyway. An hour later, the four girls were silently being frog-marched to their cells. Only when the metal bars slammed shut, leaving all four girls in the darkness did one of them speak.
"....Told you we should have listened to the Potato Song..."
She squealed as she was suddenly shocked all over by lightning.
"Oh, shut up..."
"BOY!"
Harry pried an eye open. He was unsure what time he went to sleep last night. All he could recall was that he was momentarily chastised by his aunt and uncle for coming in at sometime around ten o'clock last night then going to his room and moping on his bed. Slowly, he recollected his head. It wasn't a deep sleep. He thought he dreamt... Something with Aurors, night-time and... a song about Potatos?
"BOY!"
They must really want me to do something... Harry though as he dragged himself out of bed. Seeing as how he wore exactly what he wore when he was out in the previous night, all he did was run a hand through his hair and grabbed his glasses, plodding down the stairs slowly and heavily. He somehow found his way into the kitchen, standing in front of his aunt and uncle. Uncle Vernon looked particularly red in the face and displeased about something. Aunt Petunia on the other hand, whilst looking unhappy, had something of an air of concern about her.
"Sit", she commanded, Harry instantly complying. At least her voice still resembled that of Mrs Dursley. Petunia Dursley stared down at Harry for a moment, whilst a very agitated looking Uncle Vernon was now twisting his moustache this way and that. Finally, Harry's mother's sister took a deep breath and squeezed her husband's shoulder.
"Your Uncle and I had a talk this morning, Harry. First of all, we want to emphasise that you are not to come home late again."
"Don't want those freaks visiting us for negligence or whatever..." Uncle Vernon muttered.
"Secondly, explain yourself. Ever since you came back from that... that school, you have been less than yourself."
Harry simply stared. What was wrong with Aunt Petunia today; she sounded like she actually pitied him.
"Well, boy? We don't have all day."
"Well... some bad stuff happened..."
"Hah!" Uncle Vernon exclaimed, triumphant. "So what? School itself got blown up? Those crackpots have been arrested? Exterminated? Out with it, boy."
Harry clammed up. Without realising it, Uncle Vernon probably voiced Harry's worst fear. Aunt Petunia squeezed Vernon's shoulder again and looked at Harry sternly.
"Is that what happened?"
Harry shook his head slowly. His eyes were now tracing the pattern the wood grain in the kitchen table, his mind imagining Uncle Vernon's face now. Instead, Uncle Vernon now tapped his fingers on the table top, waiting for an answer. Harry took a deep breath.
"My...someone close to me... died last month."
"So that's why you're depressed. Blown up like your parents, I expect."
"Don't say that!" Harry cried, standing and scaring the life out of the Dursleys. "Don't ever say that! You don't even acknowledge the truth, do you!? My parents were murdered fifteen years ago because of me! Cedric was killed two years ago because of me. And only last month, Sirius died trying to save me! I don't know about you, but I think that's ample reason for me to be depressed!"
Uncle Vernon grew redder with the outburst, whilst Aunt Petunia glanced nervously at the windows as though the neighbours had pressed their ears against all the shut windows. Without waiting for an answer or retort, Harry sprinted to his room, locking his door behind him. Lying face down on his bed, Harry pressed his face into a pillow. Well, it was out. He admitted to being the cause of four deaths which could have been avoided. Somehow, it felt a little better, though he could only imagine what would happen now. After all, the Dursleys wouldn't want someone so dangerous under their roof now...
"The accused is present. Let us begin. Mr Weasley, are you ready?"
"Yes, sir."
All eyes were directed to the centre of the room, where four new captives were held. They were strange to the eye, certainly. Definitely not very Muggle-like at the very least. The first of the young women was a tanned lady in very revealing, very tight clothing. Her eyes displayed some semblance of power, and not just from its constantly changing colour. Her waist long hair was split in the centre, making the left side of her head display a deep amethyst colouration, whilst the right was a bright ebony. Next to her was a young girl of similar age, and of appearance so bright that one required a Darkening Charm cast before their eyes in order to look at her directly. Her clothes were simple Muggle looking clothes; a bright neon yellow and green t-shirt and a pair of denim shorts and trainers. However, her naturally occurring blue hair with twin silver streaks that ran from her fringe to the tips of her long ponytail, and her bright, almost neon green eyes was definitely not of Muggle origins. The third was the most Muggle looking of the quartet. She was a petite blonde, blue eyed young miss, dressed modestly but smartly; or as smartly as one could get when they spent one half of the night running and the other half holed up in a cell. Last of their number was a waist length-raven haired young woman, her eyes a deeper, darker green than that of her brightly dressed companion two seats down. Her attire was probably the most sensible for the activities of the night before; a green sleeveless full body cat suit, a pair of black knee high boots and very long black gloves. The only other accessory visible was a black leather belt with a round silver buckle. Overall, she looked like a normal, if action-ready woman. Pity about the green tinge to her skin.
From their rather imposing looking seats in the centre, the girls looked back at the court room. About fifty something plum-robed people were in the dark dungeon staring back at them. Most looked curious, some seem to look at them as though they were expecting the girls to jump out and blast them to oblivion. To them, the most prominent looking people in the crowd were the large man in the centre, women either side of him and a violently red-haired young man at the end sporting a pair of horn-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose. Others were submerged in darkness, so near invisible to the watchful eyes of the 'accused'. What they were accused of, they hope to find out.
The fat man cleared his throat. "Court hearing on the twenty-ninth of July, into offences committed under the International Statute of Secrecy and for suspected Dark Magical Activities in the city of London. Please state your names."
None of the girls spoke at first, still trying to process the information. Statute of Secrecy for what? Dark Magical Activities? Finally, nervously, the blonde girl stood, hands clasped in front of her. After she said her piece, her Egyptian, black haired, then blue haired friends all stood up and introduced themselves.
"Emerald Fire."
"ShadowYami, or if you prefer Khalida Damis."
"Mercury Sands."
"Anime the Fallen Angel."
All four names were met with stares; especially the last one. Surely they heard wrong. Fallen Angel!? The large gentleman nodded, his expression more than expressing his belief that the girls were lying and spoke again. "Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley."
The man the girls now know as Fudge ('Reminds me... I'm hungry' muttered ShadowYami) picked up a roll of what was recognised as parchment and unrolled it, reading in a clear and loud voice. "The charges against the accused are as follows: "That they did knowingly and deliberately summon a wall of fire and a cloud of lightning in a Muggle-inhabited area on the twenty-eighth of July at four minutes past eleven in the evening, which constitutes an offence under Section Thirteen of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy, and possibly, given the lack of information on the accused, an offence under Paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875. In addition, the accused are also charged with collaboration with Dark Wizards and Witches on the night of the twenty- seventh of July, having been spotted with a group of suspects on said night." "You are..."
Fudge leant over to Percy Ignatius Weasley, who showed him the part of the parchment he was scribbling on. "Emerald Fire, ShadowYami, otherwise known as Khalida Damis, Mercury Sands and Anime, the Fallen Angel...?"
All four girls nodded. One of the women spoke up, her high girlish voice going right through some of them. "A vocal answer, if you please..."
"Yes" all four replied almost instantly.
"You all used rather potent magic on the night of the twenty eighth of July?"
"Well..." the girls looked at each other before Emerald and Mercury nodded. "We did. Yes... but in..."
"In the vicinity of Muggles?"
"Hang on, what are..."
"IN the vicinity of Muggles?"
"What are Muggles?"
The crowd whispered amongst themselves, though Cornelius Fudge's expression didn't change. "I'm sorry, ladies, but considering the position you are in, I wouldn't be asking such... unintelligent questions. I am sure you know perfectly well what..."
"Like Hell we do!" ShadowYami protested, standing.
"Hey." Anime said, pouting.
Her friends dimly registered the remark. Emerald stood up, asking ShadowYami to calm down and let her handle it through her eyes. It took a while, but the two tone-haired girl finally obliged, though not that happily. The blonde girl looked at the panel and crowd before her, suddenly a little tongue tied. She swallowed several times before finding her voice.
"Well... This is hard to explain... even harder since I'm not... from around here, so to speak..."
"Miss Fire, if you please..."
"Let me speak in our defence, please. You see, the only reason Mercury and myself used our magic against your men was... well, we thought they were hostile against us. It's not very reassuring to have a crowd of strange people chasing us through the city back streets when we haven't knowingly done something wrong."
"And you recognise now that you have done something wrong?"
"Well, I guess we wouldn't be here if we didn't."
"Thank you, Miss Fire. You've said your piece. Be seated."
"But..."
"Be seated."
Emerald slowly sank into her seat. The rest of the dungeon occupants whispered amongst themselves. In the back where the girls could hardly see for the shadows, two men were conversing quite closely together. Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of the only English based magic school Hogwarts and Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, reinstated Auror for the Ministry were whispering between themselves, interested in the four girls.
"Is it just my diminishing eye-sight Alastor, or is that young lady at the other end a rather sickly colour?"
"The one with the green skin? I'd eat my other eye if I said that was artificial."
"What do you make of them?"
"Me?" the heavily scarred man gave a low bark of a laugh. "Well, if I actually put my mind to it, I'd say they would be innocent Muggle girls going to a party. But..."
"But how is it that two of the young women could use some powerful magic and their friends are unsurprised at the news... Interesting, I'm sure you would agree."
Cornelius Fudge cleared his throat loudly. "Well, I suppose that was quite a stir for all of us in the courtroom. Onto your liaisons with gentlemen Crabbe and Goyle; what were you discussing?"
"Who're..."
"Messers Crabbe and Goyle are members of The Dark Lord's team of Death Eaters. You four were observed to have met them in a back street in Central London and discussing matters about a certain unnamed gentleman on the night of the twenty-seventh of July. Do you deny meeting them?"
"First off, you haven't answered our question before, which I personally find rude."
The other three girls glanced down at Mercury, who had her arms folded and sat back in her chair. They turned and looked at the crowd before them, expectantly. Everything was silent until a strong voice from somewhere in the shadows spoke up.
"I propose we individually interview each young lady separately. Under the influence of Veritaserum, of course..."
Moody looked at Dumbledore, who was thoughtful and looking at the girls, intrigued. Fudge seemed to grow slightly redder but nodded. "Alright then... the Wizengamot will be in recess whilst some Veritaserum becomes available and eight Aurors volunteer for the task. Meanwhile, you four girls will be held in your cells. Dismissed."
A light tapping on his bedroom door surprised Harry. Normally, people would just barge into his room without care, why the sudden niceties of knocking on his door? Pulling himself out of bed, Harry crossed the relatively short space and cracked the door open, looking out and straight into Aunt Petunia. She still looked somewhat cross and nervous, but then again, didn't she always?
"I want to speak you. In private. May I come in?"
Harry blinked. Did his behaviour merit a personal and private visit? Was that good or bad, considering in the past he was usually just shoved into the cupboard under the stairs or locked in his room? Moving slightly to one side, Harry allowed his aunt through into his room. She stepped in, immediately visibly scrutinising every inch of his room. This was the one room in the house she never dared venture into since it officially became Harry's room, and now she was regretting maybe doing that very thing. Her eagle like eyes picked up dirt and dust and all kinds of nasty areas that required a good household polish. Turning to look at her nephew, she barked at him in a very Dursley-ish manner that he was familiar with. "Shut that door, boy. Your Uncle doesn't want to hear a word of what we say."
Harry complied. So his Uncle was still acting normally. At least some things didn't change. When the door gave the quiet click, Harry found Aunt Petunia had made herself comfortable on his chair by the desk, looking expectantly on a spot on the bed where he was expected to sit. So he sat. For a whole minute, they just stared. This gave Harry time to really look at his aunt. As far as he could see, she was nothing like his mother, no matter how much blood had linked them. He recalled from his photos of her that she was a kind hearted woman, with his eyes. Unlike his, Lily Potter's eyes were carefree and happy. Aunt Petunia cleared her throat and started speaking, albeit slowly and carefully, as though he may whip out his wand and hex her if she made any sudden movements.
"Well.... Harry. Explain your outburst down stairs. What is this business about people dying?"
Harry fidgeted. "Well... what do you mean?"
"I mean, what about them? I know that Lily and... your father were murdered. Your crackpot of a headmaster told me. Rather inappropriately, if you ask me. Really, as if that is the type of thing you put in a letter...."
Harry stared at his Aunt. He'd never dreamed in a million years that this would be the kind of conversation that he'd have with his Aunt of all people. "You mean... how?"
"Yes, yes... out with it."
Harry stared at his feet. For a few minutes, he was given free rein to speak about what happened. It was a little safe after all; Aunt Petunia had gotten up about thirty seconds after he started explaining to make sure the window was properly shut and his curtains drawn, so no one could even lip read him. It took a full seven minutes, but Harry condensed down what happened in the last two years, with Voldemort's return and his appearance last term. He explained Cedric's and Sirius's deaths, trying hard to remain calm. It was funny. At the end of term, he was just fine. He was coping. Yet here he was, pouring it all out to the unlikeliest of people. Harry ended his story, glancing at his aunt. She was sitting rather rigidly, but hadn't interrupted him at all during the speech. For a few seconds, Aunt Petunia pursed and unpursed her lips, looking as though she was trying to eat a particularly sour lemon.
"So... Lord what's his name..."
"Voldemort."
"Yes, him. He's back?"
"Yes."
Aunt Petunia paled a little, a more normal reaction that Harry was used to whenever he spoke of the Dark Lord. Aunt Petunia thought for a while then spoke again. "And as long as you can call this home, then you're safe... But what about my family?"
"I... I don't know..."
Aunt Petunia frowned and let her mind clog its way. Harry watched nervously. It was very strange to speak about magical things to his Aunt, who made it very clear she hated anything to do with 'his kind' in the house.
"...Lily was killed by him..."
The statement startled Harry a little. There was a definite hint of emotion in her voice, but not pride for her son or anger or fear for the wizards...
"Lily..."
Finally, Aunt Petunia stood.
"Wait here." She commanded, leaving his room. Harry stared for what felt like no time at all until Aunt Petunia returned, a tatty looking shoebox in her arms. She shut the door behind her and resumed her seat, holding the box out to Harry.
"Well? Take it." she snapped.
Gingerly as he would a bomb, Harry took the box. It was like him in away. Tattered and worn and a thing that wouldn't be allowed in the house under normal circumstance. He slowly undid the string that held it together and lifted away the lid. Inside the box was a pile of photographs. Normal Muggle ones. Harry glanced up at his aunt before picking one up. He took in a sharp breath. Lily Evans, aged maybe fifteen was sat on the grass at a park, smiling for the camera. He picked up another one. There was Lily again, aged nine. He could tell, because she had a big nine shaped cake in front of her with LILY scrolled across it in icing. A party hat was strapped to her head, one arm around another girl slightly older herself. Although they looked a little different (well, quite a bit, actually....), Harry knew who that other girl was.
"That's..."
"Your mother and I? Yes. Two years before her letter."
Harry glanced up at the tight voice. He wasn't positive, but it looked like Aunt Petunia was holding back. She noticed Harry staring and cleared her throat. "My parents passed away when you were two. They made me promise that I would pass these photos to you. Said you deserved something of them. So those are yours."
His grandparents on his mother's side. He'd nearly forgotten about them. They were more accepting about magic in their house. Pity they died when he was younger...
"You have her eyes you know..."
Harry jumped again. What was the world coming to? Harry was used to people saying he had his mother's eyes, but to have it come from his only blood relative...
"I... do?"
Aunt Petunia stood and made to leave the room. She paused, her hand over the door knob. "...You do have Lily's eyes... and you behave a little like her. Lily and I were close when we were younger, before she became... Sometimes, she would mope for days when we were growing up, if something terrible happened. Wouldn't talk about it. I was always the one who makes her spit it out. And you're like her... I made you spit it out. If you're anymore like her... I'd say you're over the worst of it now."
And with that, Aunt Petunia made a hasty exit, closing the door too hard to be conscientious, but softly enough to know she didn't mean to slam. Harry stared wide-eyed. Of all people.... Of all people to compare him to his mother...
Somehow, it meant all so much more when the comparisons came from his aunt's mouth...
Anime: O.O. Read through it three times... And I still think this is huge!
Ahearn: Indeed.
Anime: What's worse... I've two other fics that are no where near finished yet, and I'm doing this!?
Ahearn: You have gotten yourself in a pickle.
Anime: -sigh- Nothing to do about it now. I'm in a bind with SAEM for putting this up anyway, so up it goes! And for you people out there, check out YuGiOh SAEM by Emerald Princess of Vernea! She's the E in SAEM and the hikari of our team. Plus, look out for ShadowYami's and Mercury Sands' SAEM editions of your favourite animes, out in a fanfiction near you!
Ahearn: .....