A/N: I should explain something first.
I've read so many HP/LV and HP/TMR's and most all of them turn Harry into a dark! Intelligent! Wizard – not that I don't like those but I think Harry, even if Dark, has to go through the troubles of normal life, struggling with life, classes, people. Here, Harry is a boy, who like some, has procrastination problems, a quick temper under a facade of calm, and a strong dislike for prejudice.
I absolutely adore fics like Athey's (Descent to Darkness, anyone?); however, this Harry, my Harry, while brilliant, has to grapple with the reality of war, his own dark urges, and sense of belonging. I think stories where Harry immediately understands to get a spell are wonderful and fulfilling, but his path to success seems unobtainable by us readers.
Is it too big of a goal to try to write something where my readers will say "Oh, I sometimes don't do my math homework like he doesn't do Potions. Haha, but he's trying now" and inspire them? It's a bit naïve, isn't it. I know, but I can't help it. Besides, this story's not only for you, the reader, but it serves as an outlet for me. It's more than an imaginary hodgepodge of dark seduction and a one-sided triumph for the deliciously cynical and secretly sinister. (It can't be Joker all the time; think of this as a lovechild of Joker-Batman.) Here, Harry will rise and fall like ocean waves and crash and tumble just the same.
That is why Harry Potter is not Harry Potter, but Harrien Portugas for now. Out of my own selfishness, I will give him a beautiful childhood, full of stars and smiles, and only later can I allow him to spiral down into the black void.
Disillusioned, this older Harry survives only by pursuing happiness despite the death toll and hurt and cruelty. And thus is the story of a boy who evolves from an innocent boy to a bewildered adolescent to an out-of-control and sadistic young adult to something in between and something happy towards the end.
Haha. Now, I've laid my bones bare and told you all my plans. Will you still stay and read?
If so, bear with me and enjoy.
Chapter 1
How I Met Your Mother
"Can you tell me how you met mamá?" a young boy asked. The boy, with his fingers curled up into the dark skirt of his mamá, laid on an old couch in the middle of the living room. Two armchairs sat on either side of the couch and all three pieces of furniture faced the fireplace. The living room was dim but cozy. The fire burned slowly and it was past bedtime.
"Oh, you heard that story many times already, hijo," his mamá admonished playfully with a light, almost undetectable Spanish accent, "Es muy tarde, hijo. Time for bed." However, she made no move to lift him up and carry him to bed or shoo him away to his bedroom.
Abruptly, the boy sprang to sit up, "Mamá! The story won't take too long. Please mamá! Please! Uncle David, you'd like to hear the story, too, right?" The boy was almost bouncing with excitement, his little fists tugging at his mamá's dress.
With unhidden amusement, the three adults in the room observed the lively face: green eyes flickering in time with the fire, pale face flushed with sleepy excitement, baby coral lips slightly ajar in preparation to refute any warnings of bedtime, thin eyebrows knit in tight, and the general determination usually lacking in an eight–year–old boy.
"Well, I would like to hear the story... again," the man, Uncle David, smiled. He could not refuse the boy. Even though they'd only lived together for three years, Uncle David saw the boy as his son. Uncle David sank deeper into the cushions of his arm chair, folded his hands neatly on his lap, and breathed in contently in preparation for the story.
Through a wide smile, the boy's mamá peered at her darling spouse who sat in the other armchair and remarked, "Well, we cannot deny Uncle David anything. Darling, please go ahead. You tell it best."
As his other parent sat straighter up in the armchair, the young boy whooped for joy. It wasn't that he didn't want to go to sleep, but he wanted to hear his parents' story. He loved that story. He thought that the way his parents met was the most romantic and happy story that he'd ever heard (even if he'd heard it about a thousand times before).
"Very well. I will tell you the story of how I came to meet your mother, Rosea Astrid Portugas… It started with a storm in the Mediterranean Sea, off the shore of Greece. In the storm, there sailed a tiny, tiny boat–"
"Now, honey, no need to be demeaning. It was a large galleon not a 'tiny, tiny' boat as you put it," Rosea smirked. The boy had heard this bantering over a thousand times, now. Closing his eyes to imagine the story, the young boy snuggled back into the couch and into his mamá's lap.
"Tiny in respect to the large, large sea, beloved…"
– – –
The sea was indeed large and the ship was indeed too small in comparison. The tumulus sea swatted the galleon this-and-that way as a donkey's tail offhandedly swatted mosquitos during the summer. The screaming on the ship had long subsided for only one person remained on deck, clinging onto the wooden planks, too scared to let go. Slowly, the sea siphoned her energy with enormous waves, lighting, and rain as fast as bullets. She'd lost her wand eons ago and even if she'd keep it, nothing could prevent the sea from taking the ship. The captain, her father, the rest of the sailors had been thrown overboard long ago; the sea had commandeered the merchant galleon and tried to shake off the sole pest that still clung for life. Foolish child! the sea seemed to roar as it made a game of tossing the girl into the sea.
Poor little girl, she was but one child facing Neptune and his hundreds of followers. She felt desperate and hopeless in the middle of the Mediterranean with no foreseeable rescue. Without hope now, she cried because of the salt in her eyes, because she was only seventeen, because she should have listened to her mother, and because she wanted to live.
Minutes ago, she had accepted her death, but the more she thought about her life, her sheltered life, she did not want to die. She, soon to be Mrs. Lucius Malfoy, had begged her father to, for once in his life, allow her to come to sea with him. This was her last time to be free and instead of freedom, she was riding headfirst into death.
Crying out in one last attempt to fight the sea, she howled against the wind, "I want to live! I want freedom! I don't want to be a pureblood wife. I don't want to chat with other wives over inane topics like the weather over tea. I don't want to smile at parties I never wanted to attend. I want to marry for love! I want to travel and see the world! I want to meet muggles and see how they live! I want to dance in places I'm not supposed to and eat things that look disgusting! I want to be able to cry in public and swear and punch somebody I hate in the face! I want to be freer than my mother and father! Oh, Merlin! What I would give to be free and happy! And alive!" She hooted out laughter. "Alive, free, and happy! Merlin, I want it all!"
Closing her eyes, she laughed once more and fell unconscious. Happily, the sea swept her away.
–
When she woke up, the sun had already burned a considerable redness into her apricot skin. Lying face up, she felt her back ache. She had been laying on some sort of rock. Not bothering to get up, especially with her intense headache, she looked to her right and saw rugged beige rock and blue sea beyond that. The sea collided onto the rocks with a gentleness that it hadn't provided during the storm. She lay a few meters away from the water, on the bumpy stone. For a few moments, she spent a long time looking into the sea, waiting for the tears that never came. She was alone, as far as she could tell. Alone in a foreign land. Her father and his crew probably dead. She closed her eyes, for a moment wishing that she, too, were dead. She didn't want to be alone, left to starve on this godforsaken rock.
She opened her eyes once more. The maelstrom of thoughts subsided into a fierce determination to go back home. She began to sit upright, although her body protested aggressively. She ached everywhere. Tipping her head to the sky, she had to squint under the balmy sun. Above her hung a few slivers of clouds and the ever brightening sun. She inspected her body briefly and none of her limbs were gone or thoroughly bloody. There were many sickening bruises and small scratches that went white from having been subjected to sea salt. Her dress, tatters. She was thankful for that since she could move better without the heavy, over-adorned dress. The bottom of the tress had slits all over, which made it easier to run if need be. Her corset had been swept away with the ship. Only a raggedy, dirty undershirt remained. She'd never been allowed to dress as freely in her own home. She laughed quietly and not without a bitter edge, "Small mercies."
Turning clockwise, she saw a forest of odd trees behind her. Because of all the leaves and brush, she couldn't really see how far the forest extended. From where she was sitting, she discerned that the rocky surface gave way to a sandy beach in some distance.
Then, she turned to her left...
At first, she couldn't really make it out, but as she squinted, in the distance she could see it was a living thing, not just a mirage or an odd colored rock. It was a curious blue creature. The blue creature seemed to be observing her, for it just sat there, a hundred meters away, unmoving but obviously facing her. She didn't really want to scare the poor creature. It looked so small and harmless from where she sat. Unfortunately, the creature noticed that she was staring back; it seemed to jump in surprise. Perhaps it was a pet of somebody who lived on the island or maybe a sentient, magical creature.
The girl did not know what to do: Should she approach the creature –it was, after all, the only sign of life she could see. Or should she wait until it approached her –if it ever did so. She could play coy and wait for the creature to inch closer, but under these circumstances, in which she had no food, no drink, no rescue, the girl decided that she would need to throw her pride and caution to the wind and get a little desperate. The girl sat up more upright, ignoring the pain at her side. Then, she pushed up with her arms to stand up. Even standing up seemed strenuous to her body.
The creature, seeing the girl trying to stand up, became , it did not move yet, probably because it did not sense any danger from her. Taking that as a good sign, the girl took shaky steps towards the creature. Initially, the creature just crouched where it was but as the girl got closer, it stood up to start backing away. Standing up, the creature was taller than the girl (who was by no means short in the first place –she was about 180 cm); the girl realized that this humanoid creature was probably an adult and not a child as she had thought. The creature stood on two legs; it was blue with deep cobalt skin and a simply-cut grey dress on. It must be a girl, she concluded, and it must be a magical beast. Perhaps I can get it to help me.
Before it could move away, however, the girl stopped and held out her palm in an universal "stop" sign. "Please wait! I don't mean to disturb you! I'm not sure if you can understand me, but I honestly do not mean harm. My father's boat … crashed some distance from here. I'm lost and probably going to die if I stay here by myself. You are the first living thing that I've seen since I've woken up (granted, I haven't been awake for but a few minutes), but I beg you please do not leave me. My wand is lost, my father is most likely dead, and I will probably soon follow him and the crewmates. At least… at least the very elast, I would like some company." Her voice was hoarse. The tears that hadn't come before now came easily. Putting a trembling hand over her quivering lips as the tears streamed steadily from her eyes, the girl squatted down, hugging her knees.
"I'm so lost. Please. I don't expect anything from you. I won't hurt you and I hope you'll extend the same courtesy. Please just stay," the girl continued without looking up, "I thought that this trip would take me away from my responsibilities as the only daughter, the only child of a pureblood family. I didn't want to marry Lucius. He's a good acquaintance, but he much more fitted with Narcissa. I thought that this would be my one chance of freedom before I had to be locked in a world I had not entirely felt right in. My mother begged me to stay at home. I refused with as much politeness as I was taught to. Of course, I had to. That was the pureblood way… Damn the purebloods! I'm so sorry. I'm ranting nonsense. You probably don't care for my problems even if could understand what I'm saying."
The girl looked up from her knees to find the blue creature –the blue girl creature– standing in front of her with a face of sympathy. The blue girl-creature kneeled down beside the girl as she carried on her story. Now, that the girl-creature was closer, the girl noticed that the creature had cobalt skin that looked more like down feathers than skin, dark sea green hair, and white eyes. The creature also had a sort of look of mystery about them. It was a beautiful thing, nothing like the girl'd ever seen. The creature contained humanoid features. Except for the skin, it had arms, legs, a face –one of the most beautiful the girl'd ever seen– feet, hands, breasts, everything. The creature had a small face with wavy, soft hair and classically beautiful features. It's body was not overly skinny but plump enough to look voluptuous while retaining elegance.
"I'm so sorry," the girl half-smiled, "I don't usually do this. I'm usually so proper and lady-like." The creature tilted its head as if to say Yea. So?
The girl laughed, "I guess it wouldn't matter while I'm here. But, you see, it's been ingrained in me ever since I was small. It's the 'pureblood way' my mother always said. I think it's bollocks. Why can't pureblood wizards be both facially expressive and powerful? Mother says I'm too young to understand, but I don't think I ever will. And if I do, then I'd have lost myself along the way." Pausing, the girl watched the creature as it watched her. With its head resting on its arms, in a similar crouching position as she, the creature observed her attentively. The girl didn't, at first, register that the creature had opened its mouth. When she did, she realized that it probably could speak; she knew it was some sort of magical creature, but she just did not know which kind.
Out of its mouth came a sreeeeeckkk! and the girl had to cover her ears quickly, toppling over. The creature quickly clasped a hand over its mouth, surprised itself. Then, the creature gingerly put its hands over the girl's and coaxed the hands down.
"I am deeply apologizing," the creature said with an archaic flourish. It had a surprisingly soothing voice, mellow and cool; there was a subtle echo, too. "I forget often that normal human wizards do not know Mermish. I just assumed because you say you are a wizard and not a non-magical human."
The girl only gaped at the creature; she did not honestly believe that she would be so lucky to find a creature that knew English. She blushed when she realized she was staring and quickly adverted her eyes to the ground.
"It's okay. Um… " the girl hesitated, not knowing what to say, "What are you?"
The creature tilted its head again, "I am a siren of the sea. Surely, wizarding kind know about us?"
The girl shook her head, "I mean, yes, but not much is known. We know mermaids. In fact, Hogwarts has mermaids in its lake, but not many have ever seen a siren. Moreover, not many books have any descriptions beyond a brief "Sirens are a type of mermaid" before."
The creature looked at her thoughtfully, "I see." It then continued to stare at her without blinking and without talking. The girl fidgeted under her gaze, her head running in circles to think of something to say.
"Umm... so what is your name? Do you have a name? Are you a girl?" the girl paused, wincing at her own questions, "I'm sorry. I just... I'm sorry."
To the girl's astonishment, the creature chuckled and when it did, it sounded like raindrops. "Wizarding people are so amusing. I do have a name and almost all sirens are female as am I. My name is Llange. Though I do not know of your name, yet."
"Oh! Yes, of course. I'm so sorry for not introducing myself earlier." At this, the creature –Llange– laughed; at the sound of Llange's laugh, the girl bristled and flushed.
"Wizarding folk. You have no need to be so apologizing. I am sure that our customs have no match for your customs. In our customs, it is not uncommon to not give names until we learn of a stranger's character."
"Oh. Okay," the girl said dumbly and inwardly hit herself for how dumb she sounded, "Well, I am Rosea Astrid Portugas, heir to the Portugas line." Immediately, Rosea's throat tightened when she remembered that she might already be the head of her house.
"What is wrong, wizarding folk Rosea?" Though Llange said Rosea more like "Rah-cei-a" than the "Ro-cé-a" it was supposed to sound like. Rosea smiled tightly at her name, but soon buried her face into her arms once more.
"I am so sorry Llange. I must be confusing you. A thought just appeared in my head that my father might be dead; therefore, I am no longer the heir but the head of the house now... I should explain, shouldn't I? In the wizarding world, if the head of the household dies, the title immediately passes onto the first child if the child is of age; if the child is not of age, the title temporarily falls under the spouse's responsibility. Because the spouse does not actually have the line's blood, the title is regained by the child when he or she turns seventeen. I'm sorry if this is all confusing."
"No. I understand. It is much like our world. If the leader amwi dies, then the children and siblings of amwi must fight to test who is the strongest and test to who can lead the colony. Then the strongest will be amwi. It is the same, only you do not have to fight amongst your siblings?"
"Oh. I have no siblings to fight over with; though in families that do, usually, it's just the eldest son," Rosea smiled, lifting her head at Llange. Llange made a face of disbelief.
"No siblings? How does the wizarding kind not dwindle and die?"
"That's been a sore issue in the wizarding world. You see, the wizarding world is in the middle of a war as we speak, warring over not only the fact that wizards numbers are dwindling but also the purity of the blood and how we will associate with muggles –that's people without magic. Personally, I think the purity thing is bollocks but the other issues are quite alarming and should be dealt with." Rosea frowned. Should she be making small talk by talking of thewar in Britain? Surely, the siren didn't care.
"The wizarding world is in a war?"
"Well... only the British wizards are."
"I see. So you are in war, on a side of the war?" Llange's face darkened slightly, but Rosea had looked away into the horizon before she could see.
"No. I am not. I agree with the ideals on one side, but I am too scared to join the battle. And I do not wish to. War is... Too many of my friends are in war and I hate it, but so many people say 'war is necessary.' I wish it wasn't. War is evil and it is destruction. I wish everything could be settled in a peaceful way. I do not think this had to come to war, but with the Dark Lord..." Rosea trailed off solemnly. Llange took both of Rosea's hands into hers. Llange's hands were warm, feathery, and gentle. Rosea looked into Llange's softened eyes.
"I agree. Our colonies –mine and our cousins, the kiios– been at battle also for decades now over a simple misunderstanding that neither side cares for anymore. Most of my sisters believe that this war is just, but I do not. Too many of my sisters have perished. I do not know who 'Dark Lord' is but my amwi led us into war ages ago, and it is too late to stop. Had you said you liked the idea of war, I might have snapped your throat," Rosea flinched, "but do not be alarmed. I will not," Llange chuckled, "You and I are too alike. We are idealists in a world of cynicals."
"I see. I'm sorry for bringing it up." Rosea grimaced.
"Do not apologizing. I understand your feelings well."
"I'm sorry for saying this... and for saying sorry again. May I ask what the misunderstanding was that started the war?"
Llange smiled bitterly, "It was a stupid, stupid mistake. We, the leiwiin, and the kiios have been cousins for many generations before the war. It has always brought about prosperity for the kiios live closer to shore and the leiwiin live in the middle of the storms and seas. Trade was very easy that way. We can get things that come only from deep seas and the kiios will remind sailors to come our way. But the difference between the kiios and the leiwiin greatly differ... especially in customs and heritage. In your storybooks what do they say on sirens?"
Rosea thought about this for a moment, recalling Care of Magical Creatures. "Well... they say sirens look much like harpies. The arms are wings. The feet are talons. Faces are beaks. Much like mermaids, too. Purple hair. Grey skin. Good swimmers. Which is why I am so surprised that you look the way you do."
"Yes. That is a good description of the kiios. They are closer to shore. More people have seen them. The kiios cannot change their appearance and their ancestors come from sea birds and hawks. They originate from Greece in ancient times. However, the leiwiin are more closely related to the Nagi and our ancestors originate in the orient. We can also change to have wings and talons, but we cannot change our faces into beaks as our ancestors more closely tied with sea serpents. My blue skin is a testament. The kiios have been jealous of our beauty and our magic for so long, and the leiwiin have been jealous of their territory and their fierceness.
"The kiios are born hunters and warriors. We are born scavengers and a tranquil colony. The kiios would have exterminated us long ago had we not had a powerful gift from our ancestors. The leiwiin have a protective poison in their bodies which makes it hard to touch and be near, but we are tranquil most of the time. We do not like attack. We only like defense.
"Many of my generation leiwiin have wanted to be on the offense from now on, but the elders think it not wise and rightly so. The leiwiin are not powerful. We cannot stand physical attacks and die easily. And the kiios easily kill us without trying. We have gone offense many times, but it is hard for our weak nature. Our magic is quite strong, but we cannot defend against harpoons and metal, spelled to destroy our shields. Our poison that can become gas makes them stay back, but many of us have to create it at the same time for effectiveness and afterwards we are very weak. Also, spears can penetrate poison gas. We can only run before their weapons hit us. And we have run into the sea and the kiios cannot follow very far. They cannot survive in the wildness of this sea, but the leiwiin can for we understand the chaos out here."
"I see... but how was it that the war started?"
"Ah. I am forgetting the prime reason of this story. The leiwiin understand the chaos of the sea but there are not many things here to eat and places to sleep. The younger leiwiin wish for the stability the territory the kiios have. They forget we are weak physically. In a magical duel, we can defeat the kiios but they forget, the kiios are too smart to challenge us to a magical duel. They know how to strategize and kill us off one by one with weapons made of metal or rock.
"Decades ago, the last old amwi was overthrown by the current amwi and the amwi now started the war on behalf of the younger leiwiin for she was young herself. Powerful in all rights, but young and foolish. How she started the war was a terrible accident.
"She arrived at an annual meeting between the all the colonies, the leiwiin, the kiios, the alliv, the mwasen, the junsei, and the huweix. The junsei and the huweix locate from the orient. The alliv and the mwasen locate from the the Americas. That is all the colonies in the world except the Ylia, who are from the snowy north and the Zlia from the snowy south. Those two colonies keep to themselves and converse only to each other. They are sister colonies and their constituents travel north to south pole often with ease and no fear of stealing territory. No one has ever seen the Ylia or the Zlia in over two centuries.
"In any case, the amwi of our leiwiin demanded more territory from the kiios and the kiios said no. They had said no because of a misunderstanding that began a few months ago. There was a monster that had been terrorizing the seas around the kiios lands. The kiios swore that they saw a giant serpent, and knowing our natural affinity and connections with serpents, they saw us in blame. While we can speak to serpents, we had never met a giant serpent described to us by them. They said the serpent spread poison onto the seas around the kiios so that all the fish died and none of the merchants dared traveling in the waters to trade with the kiios. Instead, traders came to the leiwiin islands.
"The kiios believed it to be a plot against them. We, however, were growing in number and we needed more lands for our new sisters. Even with the increased trading, more than anything, we needed land for the growing population. We had no need for trade. We needed territory.
"Moreover, we did not know of the serpent. So, the meeting ended and we were not able to convince the kiios that the serpent was not ours. A few months later, we found an island near the kiios territory that contained poisoned trees. It was a poison that spread through the air and in the water. We believed that this to be the cause of the poisoned waters and dead fish and lackening trading for the kiios. We, who have poison in our blood, were immune to the poison.
"In the meeting that year, we explained how we destroyed an island containing poisoned trees and that the poison should no longer affect them. The amwi for the kiios stood up and yelled at our amwi, 'You were the ones who destroyed our island!' We told them yes. We were very confused why they were angry.
"The kiios amwi then yelled, "If there was poison in the islands, why were you not affected?'
"We replied, 'Because we have poison in our veins. Fire cannot be used to destroy fire just as poison cannot destroy poison.'
"The kiios amwi cried, "A snake cannot be affected by its own poison! Neptune, may he have fury on you! You were the ones who caused the poison in the first place!'
"Our amwi stood up in defense, 'No, kiios cousin. We were not. We would never!'
"The kiios replied, "Of course. It was you. I should never have made a pact with you! For shame, leiwiin cousin. You have always wanted our trade. You took it. The pact is broken. We will not help you gain trade any longer. War is commenced.' Then, the kiios amwi got up and left and the war began.
"The friend of the kiios amwi, the alliv amwi from North America told us, 'The kiios have always been jealous of your beauty and your magic. They have started war because they are jealous. This may just be an excuse. I am ashamed that my friend acts this way. The kiios are the alliv's friends no more.'
"So, angered, we, the leiwiin went to war as well because the kiios reasoning for war was so incredibly foolish and unbased. Our amwi, when she came home, told us, 'We are at war with the kiios from today. We have helped them a great duty by killing the poison trees but they repay us with jealousy and spite. They have announced war against us. They threaten to take our trade and without trade we cannot survive! We, although not warriors of kiios, are not weak! We will go to war!'
"The war was so easily started. Just like that," Llange finished, her eyes vacant.
"By Merlin, the kiios sound so sincerely disturbed. When your people have saved their lives and livelihood, too!" Rosea exclaimed, pulling Llange out of her own thoughts. It seemed that Llange had forgotten where she was or who'd she'd been talking to.
"Yes. There was a saying going around that the kiios planted the poison in the trees by themselves and used it as an excuse for war. I do not think so. The kiios as I remembered them were beings of the most courageous and sincere type. They had a code of honor they never went without, and they respected their ancestors with feasts and holidays. They were humble and held so much integrity... however, I cannot explain why they acted as they did. I only know the war began with such a horrid misconduct."
"They sound like Gryffindors... I don't understand why your people will not just talk to the kiios and sort this all out."
"They have stopped responding to our messages long ago. We try to tell them that the island was poisonous and we were only trying to help, not gain territory. They will not listen. And what is more is that many of the new leiwiin do not even remember why the war had started. They only know that the kiios are our enemies. Most have forgotten that the kiios are still our cousins and that neither of us are in the wrong. I am in a minority with no say. None of my sisters will listen to me. Only my brother does and he has no more authority than I do. My amwi has stopped listening to my pleas decades ago. I only wait for the rest of my colony wake up or become extinct."
As Llange finished, an uncomfortable silence permeated the atmosphere. Rosea did not know what to say or how to console Llange. She knew that there was no point in saying anything that she didn't mean like "It'll be fine" or "I understand." Llange had talked about her war; even if she didn't want to, Rosea saw it only fit to tell Llange about the wizarding war.
"Well, our war started with a man. You see, the wizarding world in Britain is very Light magic. Dark wizards like myself do not have much rights and we cannot practice our magic. Our Dark magic is considered to be evil."
"That is not right. Dark magic is no less evil than Light magic. Only different," Llange commented, eagerly listening to Rosea either to get her mind off of her war or because she was genuinely interested.
"Yes. I know, but our ministry, which is our leader, our aamwee," Rosea paused and Llange giggled a little at the mispronunciation, "our ministry abhors anything Dark. We do not have many rights for Dark wizards or Dark creatures. My mother has been begging my father for us to go back to live in Spain as we had in my childhood, but my father refused, saying that Britain was his home and as much as he'd loved Spain, Britain was were he shall remain.
"Suffice to say, our family suffered some prejudice but our family was a strong line of purebloods with much influence and money. Do you know of purebloods?" Rosea asked and Llange shook her head. "Purebloods are those with only wizard ancestors. For instance, if one's parents were both muggles, one is a 'mudblood' which is a derogatory term for muggle-born. They are looked down on because of their heritage. This is somewhat entitled, but I will get to that in further discussion.
"If one parent has been born of magical blood and the other was born a muggle-born, then the child is a 'half-blood.' Purebloods generally consider only pureblood ancestry to be the strongest. And while it is true that some muggle-borns are weaker, some are stronger as well. I had a classmate, a halfblood, but he is a hell'a wizard not to mention potions genius."
"Anyhow, here is where it gets tricky. The Light wizards in Britain want to establish a better relations with the muggles. Their laws of how to handle muggle-borns or muggles in knowledge of the wizarding world are lax. For instance, a wizarding child with no wizarding parents must stay in the muggle world without aid or explanation for his or her random magics."
"But they are only children! Surely, muggles will think it weird for normal child to do things that they cannot explain. I remember one man I once met. He wore black with a square of white at his collar. He looked old. The traders, who knew of siren-kind, told him to stay in behind the wood. I had glamours on myself, but my brother had not put any on. He was too young, only ten years old at the time. The old human did not listen to the traders. He came out when I was conversing to a trader, and he saw my brother. He started yelling and threw water at my brother. Ridiculous. Throwing water at a siren. After, he took out a metal stick and pointed the thing at my brother. The traders jumped on him and he was beaten, carried inside. Later, I found that the metal was a weapon. One that would hurt. Surely, non-magic normals would do no worse to a child. That man had the ruthlessness to point a weapon at a child, siren or not."
"I agree. The society in Spain talked of muggle intolerance often. Nevertheless, the Light do not believe so. They think muggles are less harmless than flies." Llange snorted derisively. Rosea shot her a half-smirk.
"Anyhow... there is no real punishment for practicing magic in the muggle world; most people just know not to do it, but the ministry is loathe to hand out punishments. If you belong to a Light family, they merely give you a slap on the wrist and admonish you not to do magic in front of muggles. If you belong to a Dark family, the ministry assumes you were trying to punish muggles for something. The ministry punishes Dark families much more severely although most Dark families hate to go near muggles so not many punishments are doled out.
"Of course, if one breaks the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy so many times, the ministry will be forced to do something. Do you know that some of our wizards actually want to let Muggles in on our magic? Carlotta Pinkstone is a famous example. She would perform magic in front of muggles. Her slogan was 'Stop Magical Suppression.' It took repeat offenses against the Statute for the ministry to toss her into Azkaban –a wizard prison. And then Professor Charity Burbage was killed recently for wanting wizard blood to diminish. She loved all muggle things so much."
"That is horrid and selfish of them to do so. For one person's ideals, they would sacrifice the rest of the wizarding world?"
"I know. The muggles would never accept us. They'd kill us if they could and I think they could."
"Yes. I've seen their new weapons. What they call guns –the metal stick. Their weapons, the kiios and the traders have used them, have killed many my sisters."
"Yes. I have heard of them while I was in Spain. In Spain, the Dark families talk of muggle weapons because even if they have no weapons, there are too many of them. Most of Europe believe in the "Know thy enemy" policy. In Spain, the threat of being found out is very important. Their punishments range from fines to public humiliation to prison, depending on how bad the offense was. Britain is too lax."
"So the war was over that? The Light wanted to be with muggles and the Dark wanted to secure the future for the rest of wizarding society?"
"You make it sound so simple. If only the Light saw it that way as well. They make it seem like we want to destroy all muggles and muggle-borns. No! We only want stricter laws to assure that a) Wizards will never be found out and b) that the magic blood doesn't get diluted to the point where we all become squibs –that's the purebloods' worst fear. They figure that they muggle-borns will dilute the magic in the blood. Yes, sometimes the muggle-borns turn out powerful or average, but there are muggle-borns every now and then that are much below average. Granted there are some purebloods much below average, but in the whole scheme of things, the purebloods know, for the most part, wizards will produce wizards; therefore, why take chances with muggles or muggle-borns?"
"Seems reasonable."
"For the most part, I agree. However, I also agree that muggle-borns add change into the gene pool, which purebloods so desperately need. Either muggle-borns, magical creatures such as veelas, or purebloods from other countries. Magical creatures do not often breed with wizards; most wizards don't like going out of their comfort zone and breed with other European lines as my family did. My father's family was originally from Spain but grew up in England. My mother is one hundred percent pureblood Spanish though she knows better English than some of my classmates do. A thick accent, though.
"My point is that I do not believe that we should destroy all muggle-borns. In some sense, they are useful to widen our gene pool, but they are also a threat if they or their muggle family members successfully convinces the muggle world that we are here. The muggles will think us a viable threat and decimate us. So we have to gain the complete trust of the muggle-borns and teach the wizarding world that we need to be aware that muggles are dangerous. The reason why so many Light wizards want to assimilate into muggle culture is that they do not realize what xenophobes muggles are. That and they do not realize how powerful they can be. The Light wizards think them harmless buggers who enjoy peace. Wrong on both accounts. So wrong."
"Yes. Their wars have shaken our lands many times. Did you know they can fly now? Humans can fly without magic."
"Oh yes. My family has discussed the various innovations that muggles have developed. Wizards must be wary. They must. So, this is where the Dark Lord comes in."
"Dark Lord?"
"Yes, the Dark Lord Voldemort. He is the most powerful Dark wizard to come about in centuries. He agrees in most of my ideals and is very powerful. I consider myself to be a strong Dark witch, but my magic is but a spit in the sea compared to his vast knowledge of the Dark Arts. I swear, he could have turned the country around through politics alone."
"I am assuming he did no such thing."
"No. Although our ideals are very similar, he wants a revolution and revolution calls for blood. I wanted a means to the end by change without violence. The Dark Lord has a thirst for power and respect, and he does not realize that respect cannot be given by fear. I do not think he is aware of respect through admiration and love. Also, he does not want the destruction of all non-purebloods –my father told me that the Dark Lord is a half-blood himself– but to gain followers, he had to agree to the slaughter of muggle-borns. He is in a precarious situation. He knows the need for new genes, but cannot loose his followers."
"I see."
"Yes. And I am in going into my seventh of Hogwarts –or was going to go. My fiance, a Mister Lucius Malfoy, one of my good... acquaintances, wanted to follow the Dark Lord. That meant that once we were married, which will be almost immediately after I graduate from Hogwarts, I also would have to follow the Dark Lord even though I do not wish to have any part in the war. When I go back, I'll have to do all of that."
"Then why go back at all?"
Rosea gasped at Llange with wide eyes, "I don't know. I hadn't thought of such an idea: To not go back? The notion hadn't crossed my mind. I have many responsibilities... and my mother. My poor mother… I don't know, Llange. I don't know. I want to. I did come on this trip to get away from it all though. I don't quite understand why I feel like I need to go back..." Rosea sighed, sadly.
"Perhaps you, being so long taught to uphold responsibility, feel the need to go back. It may not be what you want, but for so long you know no other way to act."
"Perhaps." Once more, the two girls lapsed back into silence. Rosea had a whole avalanche of questions to ask Llange, but didn't know how to bring them up as they were not quite pertinent to the previous conversation.
She waited too long, for just as she was about to ask her first question, a flap of wings sounded behind her and as she turned around, Rosea found another siren standing there with a bag filled with sundry items, hanging around his neck. The siren, this one, was obviously a boy. He had on no shirt and only some sort of loincloth. He eyed Rosea warily, but otherwise disregarded her.
He started jabbering in a language that was not Mermish (it didn't sound like screeching), but was obviously the siren language. There were many lisps and hisses as well as rolling "l"s and generally musical sounds. The Siren language, Rosea decided, was a beautiful language.
"Kiene-un. We are in front of a guest," Llange gently motioned at Rosea.
"Ah. Please... Folgive me. Um. My Engrish not best in class. I'm my name Kiene. I am brother of Llange-an. I have come just from wreckage in south of island. Um... The ship sinking to floor. Um... I found junk many in ship. Many magical junk, too. Um –"
"The ship south of here?" Kiene nodded and jerked his head behind him.
"Do you think?" Rosea stared at Llange, "Do you think that was my ship?"
Llange nodded, "I think so. Kiene-un were there any survivors?" Kiene shook his head. Rosea lowered hers, clasped her hands together in start of a farewell to her father.
"Kiene-un, what have you scavenged?" Llange asked.
"Well... I find some silver and metalware that the amwi will like and can trade at human market. Also some shiny colors and some magic sticks," Kiene chattered as he placed the objects on the ground.
"Oh! My wand! And fathers!" Rosea lunged for the two out of five wands Kiene brought out from his bag, but abruptly stopped when Kiene hissed, barring his many sharp teeth.
"Anine! Kiene-un anine! This is my guest. These are her things. She was the last survivor of the sunken ship. Now, let her have her things," Llange bit back and Kiene suddenly looked very much like a child.
"Oba Llange-an. My deepest apologizings, guest," Kiene lowered his head.
"Ah. Really, no worries. Misunderstanding, that was," Rosea smiled warmly. Seeing this, Kiene grinned back.
"Oh. Ok. Tion-nin. Meaning 'Thanks to you' in Engrish. Please pick what is belonging to you."
Rosea nodded and took the two wands, hers (12 inch, Bloodwood –perfect for Divination and healing and love magic although inclined to Dark and protective magic, Ashwinder Ash core –best for protection charms, supple, smooth) and her fathers (10 inch, Ash –stubborn but loyal, Dragon heartstring core, pliant, decorative) Then, she looked over at the jewelry and breathed in deeply.
"What is wrong, Rosea?"
Rosea shook her head as she continued to stare at her mother's bracelet. It was a gold bracelet grooved with diamond shaped scales and large garnet teardrops every half of a centimeter away. Its eyes were black opal.
"What, is bracelet also belonging to you? I had hoped to bring to amwi because she would like very much. Can I give it to her?" Kiene whined a little.
"No, I am sorry Kiene, but this bracelet is a family heirloom from my mother's side. It's said to protect against bad luck. Please let me take this. I think my mother snuck it into my belongings to make sure I was safe. It's invaluable to her and to me," Rosea told Kiene with tearful eyes. Seeing the bracelet just reinforced the gravity of the whole situation. It also reminded her of her mother, who probably, by now, had seen her father's name disappearing from the family tree. Although a strong woman, her mother was still alone. For a small moment in time, she had thought that she could just stay on this island forever, but the reality was that eventually she had to go back. Her own impotency frustrating her. She wished she could just run away from the war, the marriage, everything. Silent tears fell from her eyes before she ever noticed.
Having lived with stoic and determined sirens for most of his life, this was the first time Kiene had seen a woman cry and he could not help but feel uncomfortable and helpless. Kiene, too, had many sisters die before, but he had never been the sole survivor. He imagined what it would be like if he was the last siren of his colony and sympathized with the girl.
"Of course, of course, guest. It is yours in the first time," Kiene murmured, standing stiffly. Llange, on the other hand, pulled Rosea in an embrace; Llange could feel the shock and pain of coming into terms with death that Rosea felt. She knew the feeling and could sympathize from the times many of her own sisters died –although she never shed tears, her heart had still felt pain.
The warmness of Llange's arms and chest soothed Rosea until she no longer sobbed but the tears sprung freely.
"I am terribly sorry, Llange. I must seem like an utter mess. Please know that I almost never ever act so indecently," Rosea blathered on without much thought. Llange caressed Rosea's back with slow circles of her thumbs and pulled Rosea closer.
"Do not apologizing any more. I refuse to let you apologizing for things out of your control. Now, just relax, Rosea. Relax," Llange breathed then turned to Kiene, "Tion-wi, Kiene-un. Pasei ol flwir."
"Tion-nin, Llange-an. I will arrive again next week. Please be well until the next time. You have exile only two more months," Kiene beamed. His wings morphed from where his arms were and then he took off, leaving as quickly as he came.
Sniffling a little bit and locking her emotions away, Rosea grasped Llange's upper arms, "Exile? And what did you say in Siren? I thought Thank you was 'Tee-on neen.' And who was that just now?"
"You look better now," Llange smiled heartedly, "Yes, Tion-nin is 'Thank you' but only towards those you respect and are older than you. Tion-wi is for your peers and those who are younger than you. Tion is what you say to family and lovers. Tion-ai is specific to lovers and decendants."
"Now, exile? And who was that? And what's with Llange-an. And that last thing you said?" The question wouldn't stop shotgunning out of Rosea's mouth. She looked down, embarrassed, feeling like a five year old in Diagon Alley for her first time.
"Kiene is my brother. Remember when I told you only one person believed in the same beliefs as I; that is he, Kiene. The -an is an honorific. You use it for people you respect. Like tion-nin for people you respect, -an is a form of respect. -un is for underclass people, those younger for instance. No honorifics is to family and lovers. Although we use honorifics when speaking with other magical creatures, humans generally do not understand and it is painful to explain each time. -aon is for lovers or decendants. Finally, I said pasei ol flwir which directly translates as safely you fly. It is a common phrase, much like 'Godspeed' but more common."
"I see... and exile?" Rosea bit her lip; she knew Llange was stalling.
Llange hesitated, "For my beliefs, I had been sent on exile to this island for five years. I cannot leave this island. Nor do I want to, for if I do, I will be extricated from my colony forever. And a lone siren in the seas is not welcome anywhere. The only place I might have a chance to go to is the Ylia or Zlia and that is if I can find them."
"Five years for wanting peace? That sounds..."
"It is a very soft punishment. As you say, if only people saw it as you. They saw me as lowering morale and causing disturbance. Amwi sayings are law and I did not follow law. For much less, have they killed or banished forever. I am lucky that my amwi is my blood sister and childhood friend. Five years in a siren's life does not put too much of a dent in the whole expand of things."
"Still... It must be awful to be alone. If I were to choose between isolation forever and death, I might choose death," Rosea whispered, clasping Llange's hands into hers and putting them to her forehead, "Llange. May I stay here for the remainder of your exile?"
Llange laughed, "Of course. Although you might not have a choice. Even if I so wished it, I could not fly you home. I will be able to after my exile, but also, you will be allowed departure if a ship passes by before then."
"Okay then. School doesn't start for a while. I have until then to be free," Rosea smirked.
"I warn you. The sea is a vast place. Time, here, is not like on land. Time, here, crawls slowly. Infinitely more slow."
"Well, it's a good thing I have good company then."
"I will not deny you that," Llange grinned, "I will show you my house for almost five years."
"There's a house on this rock?"
"Of course. Nothing less for me!" Llange exclaimed while pulling Rosea up off the ground and into the forest. The forest consisted of tall, tropical trees; on the ground, there was a small trail in the dirt, tailored for one person. For three minutes, Llange tugged on Rosea's hand until they reached less dense forestry. In front of her, Rosea saw a light wooded walkway bridge, but the trees covered what was the actual house. As the long, windy walkway ended, a house made of wood came into view. It hovered about twenty meters above ground. Round in shape, with many skinny planks of wood, which were separated by about ten inches each, curving to join at the top, the house, Rosea decided, looked more like an onion than a house.
"What in the world? How...?"
"Magic, of course. Come now, wizarding child, surely you know of magic?" Llange teased at the awestruck expression that fixed itself on Rosea's face, again pulling Rosea to the house.
"You have no walls! Literally, the planks of wood don't even touch! Don't bugs get in here?" Rosea asked as she saw the space in between the planks.
"Magic, darling, magic."
The treehouse was in its own right, a small mansion. It had three tiers and a floating spiraling staircase running in the middle, each stair settled in mid air. Each tier was smaller than the first but all were quite tall. The first tier consisted of the parlor, the dining and living room, and what looked like to be the kitchen; the second tier, the library and a large arrangement of various cushions; the third tier, the master bedroom with a large futon on the floor. The third tier had more privacy (for obvious reasons –even if nobody else lived on the island, there was no need to advertise the bedroom) as it did not have the open space the lower tiers had. It had ten large round windows but otherwise, the spaces between the planks were covered by more wood.
"This really doesn't look that bad for exile," Rosea joked, an eyebrow raised high.
"It was a gift from the last amwi to the current amwi when the current amwi succeeded her predecessor. It might look nice but it was not meant as a nice gift. This whole island is called Sai ca Zejou 'Nobody's home' as it is very far from the colony. Nobody comes here so far from the colony. It is colder here too. Also, it is a sort of pun. As in when you arrive on this island there is nobody here. So when you arrive at the house, nobody is home."
"That's awfully sad, Llange," Llange nodded, "but it's okay because you have two more months here and I'll be here. So, the name is obsolete. We could say this island is called 'Soy casero"; it sounds close enough, doesn't it?"
"What does 'soi ca serjo' mean? And they are very dissimilar."
"Soy casero is a weird way of saying 'I'm home' or if you want, it could be along the lines of 'I am home-loving,' and it sounds very similar to your 'Nobody's home' in Siren, I'll have you know!"
"Soy casero: I like that very much."
Rosea nodded.
"Also, I hope you do not mind sleeping in the same bed. If you are adverse, I can go to the second tier and sleep amongst the cushions."
Rosea swatted hand, "Don't be ridiculous. I have lived in a dormitory for six years. Personal space even as a Slytherin –at least for us girls– means naught."
"Sly-de-rine? Dor-mite-torry?"
Rosea sighed and then smirked, "Ah Llange, my Llange. By the time I'm through with you, you'll have learned many things... many things."
Starting with that day, Rosea and Llange taught each other many things of their distinct customs and lives. They acted like old friends, and they laughed at each other's jokes and raced each other in the forest and on the beach. They were like children at play.
They cooked (though Rosea cheated at that with her wand) and fished (Llange cheated at that by asking some sea serpents to help her) and swam (though Llange was a siren therefore could –by definition– swim much faster than Rosea) and ate (with vigor) and read (Llange sometimes read a book aloud or read separately while sitting side by side although Rosea had to use many translation spells on the Siren books) and slept (Rosea had a nasty habit of kicking during sleep but Llange retaliated with blanket-hogging) and explored (different and interesting species, which Llange never bothered to find before, inhabited all over the island –it took two hours for a person to walk from one side of the island to the other) and fought (bantered would have been a better term) and sun bathed and bathed and cultivated a garden and tamed a small sea snake and practiced magic (Llange taught Rosea many things on wandless and nature magic) and even redecorated the house once ("It's still an onion, but what can I say? Es mi casa," Rosea remarked afterwards). Inseparable, they were.
Kiene visited weekly with news of the colony and sometimes a brought by a few days old Daily Prophet. Rosea sighed and usually tossed the paper away every time, wanting to just enjoy the freedom on the island with Llange while she could.
One evening, with two more weeks to the exile, Llange came up to Rosea, who was trying to squeeze in some last minute sunbathing (the sun was already setting) in a conjured wicker recliner, with a dour countenance.
"What's wrong, Llange?" Rosea asked with concerned eyes which Llange would not meet.
"Rosea. You know that a boat came by yesterday evening, right?" Llange stated more than inquired. Secretly, Rosea brightened at Llange's English which had gotten much better within weeks of being with Rosea. Llange's ability to adapt and learn was frankly astounding. She, however, couldn't get Llange to use contractions yet ("Why not chop off your hands so your arms become shorter?" Llange had said).
Rosea blinked, "What? Yea, I knew. What about it?" Rosea was very confused. Llange crouched next to her now, but still refused to make eye contact.
"Why did you not leave with them?"
"What?" Rosea was still very confused, "Why would I leave?"
"We agreed that you would leave when my exile is over unless a boat comes by, in which case you were to go on the boat."
"Eh? Who did you agree that with because I certainly never received the memo." Rosea gave Llange a famous one-eyebrow-raised Are you kidding me? look. Now, Llange looked up quickly at Rosea.
"But Rosea. We said so when you first arrived."
"No, Llange, darling. I said that I would stay with you for two months until your exile. You are notorious for only hearing what you want, dear."
Llange observed Rosea, her golden apricot skin, wavy, long black hair, svelte figure, and her bright green eyes. In the sunset, Rosea looked like goddess basking in radiance.
"But... Rosea. Surely, you'd want to go back to your old life and friends and wealth. You tell me of your past with such a yearning look... surely?"
Rosea planted a hand on Llange's cheek. Llange's stern expression broke into a wretched sadness. Rosea stroked under Llange's watery eyes as if to wipe away the tears that had already fallen in her mind's eyes. With a bittersweet smile, Rosea leaned closer to Llange over the recliner's armrest.
"Insolent fool. Why would I leave?" Closing her eyes, Rosea leaned further until she touched Llange's lips barely. She could feel the confusion in Llange's eyes. A silent ehhhh?
"You are also notorious for only seeing what you want to see," Rosea smirked and leaned again, this time Llange met her halfway.
"I apologize... for my insolence," Llange said, her mouth hanging wide open in surprise.
"Please do shut up," Rosea rolled her eyes, grabbing both sides of Llange's beautiful face and colliding with Llange's lips. Their kiss was sweet as only a girls' kiss can be. Llange held onto Rosea's arms like a lifeline. The lips were soon moving to their own rhythm. Rosea drew Llange closer as she laid back in the recliner, her fingers tangled in Llange's dark hair. Llange climped on top of Rosea, her hands pressing the recliner on either side of Rosea. They were both so warm, and then–
– – –
"Darling, darling. Enough. Keep it PG!" Rosea scolded and smacked Llange who was laughing.
"Of course, Rosea-aon," Llange laughed some more. Uncle David joined in with his own chuckling. The little boy on Rosea's lap sniggered too, more out of mirth than because he know what Rosea had insinuated. He was eight after all.
"Now, you," Rosea ruffled the boy's hair, "Off to bed with you."
"But mamá!" the boy pouted at Rosea.
"Harrien Anje Portugas. Go to bed!" Rosea mock-chatised.
Harry made the best puppy eyes he had at Rosea. She didn't budge. He then looked to Llange through his eyelashes, "Mami! Please can I stay up? Pretty, pretty please."
"Harry-aon. Listen to your mamá."
"You are the two most beautiful, bestest mommies that any boy could ever wish for," Harry tried again.
"Bed. Now." Rosea pointed to the door.
"Besides, kiddo, don't you have somebody to meet?" his Uncle David added. Immediately, Harry's eyes brightened.
"Of course, Uncle David! You're right! G'night all!"
The adults waved, amused at how easy it was to get Harry to bed these days.
Harry ran off to his bed room and quickly jumped in his bed. His mind was already tired from listening to the story, so he fell to sleep quite easily.
A few moments later, he sat up off the ground and peered up at the night sky. A crescent moon hung out in the open air with the visible milky way overhead. It was sometime during the autumn. Harry walked to a figure sitting under a tree. The figure was a boy huddled in a blanket.
"Hello, Tom."
AN: Dark sea green (Llange's hair color) is like teal. Also, I did not realize that this chapter was going to be so long. I honestly did not expect it to be. The story of the colonies is pretty important (it's not just filler) to explaining how Uncle David became Uncle David and how Harry is going back in time to meet Tom. Guys, trust me, I've thought this through.
Also, the Siren language. Totally made that up. I have to keep track of what I said was what now! I'm dubbing the language as "Sireen."
Obviously, next chapter is going to be about when little Harrien/Harry meets Tom. This and the 2nd chapter are the last I'm going to give on the background of Harry's family's life. Afterwards, it's going to be all Harry/Tom and Harry going to school and junk.
Llange is pronounced … well "Lange" but put a cool accent or something and there you go. The "ange" part is supposed to sound like "Angie" but without the "ie" sound. So "Ange" put a L in front of that and boom! Llange. Do some weird thing with the double ll if you want.
My bad if the honorifics were confusing. Dunno where that came from. It felt right in Sireen. It began with Llange-an, but then bam! It's a thing now
Thanks for reading!
Oh yea. This series is inspired by Oceanlab's album, "Sirens of the Sea." Expect song lyrics in later chapters.
Also, bing "amazing tree house" and the onion one and the bedroom one is in there some where.