Summary: The last few worlds weren't of much help in finding a cure to his curse but this one may just be the answer to his problem. The Master of Death was reborn once again, in Fiore.
Disclaimer: Neither Harry Potter nor Fairy Tail is mine.
Warnings: Language, OOC-ness, MoD!Harry
Rating: T
Word Count: 3414
Author's Note: I would just like to say that I didn't read Harry Potter, I only watched the movies and read fanfics. So some things may and some others may not be like the books. And I'm only beginning the Tartarus Saga in Fairy Tail. I don't really like pairings so I will keep it Gen. And like all the fics before this I will say it: I'm writing this to improve my skills in English language. I don't know if it will be continued. It may or it may not. If you don't like it, don't read it. If you saw some mistakes, please point them out to me. If you have some advice, I'm open to any suggestions. Thank you.
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Chapter 1
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Harry did not know what he was thinking when he gathered all three Deathly Hallows but he was convinced that he was not. Thinking. It was the biggest fucking mistake of all his lifes. It was simply fucking amazing, how fucked up his entire existence was. It was a mystery to him as to how he kept getting new chances to start over so many times. But he did. Was it the famous Potter luck or his even more, infamous Harry bad luck.
The first time it happened and he was reborn was also the first time he died by (half-)suicide. He died because he forgot how to breathe. He simply forgot, there was no need to do that in the state of limbo he was in until his second birth.
Well, and he was a little surprised too (more like fucking shocked and terrified because oh Merlin's soggy balls, what was happening?) so that may have had some effect on his infant mind.
And so, a child of exactly thirteen seconds died and he was placed in limbo again.
But only for a moment because then he was born again. And he did not die an infant. He grew into well his teenage years and then died, he did not exactly remember the cause of his death but it may have been the fact that he choked on his the first vodka he ever tried. He wasn't too sure. But it was a lame death, he was sure.
Anyway, his birth in this new world was the same as all the others. That is frightening, confusing and disorienting. He did not remember much after that. Everything was a little blurry and not entirely clear and the language everyone around him was speaking was different from what he knew (and he knew quite a bit of these, thank you very much, being reborn in different countries did that to a man and as it was he could speak fluently in nearly 50 languages, including Latin and Ancient Greek as well as some Elvish and others) but it sounded like Japanese. A shame he didn't know the first thing about this language.
He was taken care of by a young woman. Though she was rarely ever there, only changing his diaper, feeding him and sometimes (if he was lucky) humming him lullabies and speaking to him. Or at him because he didn't understand anything she was sprouting at him. But soon he started learning and, no matter how many times it happened, the fast learning pace of children took him by surprise. He got hang of the language pretty quickly and soon could respond at least a little in the rare chats they had.
He managed to scrap together enough information to get his name or at least the name he thought was his as it was always used when a woman (was it his mother?) was talking to him. Orion. His name was Orion. And wasn't that the Universe's idea of a joke? Hilarious, really. At least it wasn't Sirius, he thought, a sour twist to his little lips that made him look as if he just ate a lemon.
He may have forgotten and forgiven all his previous lifes and everything that happened in them but his first one was always fresh in his mind. Sirius' death and the war were things that he will always remember.
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As time passed, he learned more and more and his grasp on the spoken language was getting better every day. He learned that Orion Black was his real name. At this point, he was quite sure that fates were real and were having a fucking blast up there, making his life a living hell.
He also saw what he looked like when he was about one. The woman (apparently, it was his mother, her eyes, a pretty blue mixed with silver and her hair a delightful shade of chocolate brown) who took care of him, placed him on her hip and walked down the corridor of the tiny flat which they lived in and as they were walking through the hall she paused in front of a mirror and turned to it, examining her pale face and anxiously smothering her hair.
He followed her example (no, he did not start looking for a pimple or admiring himself like some peacock or coughMalfoycough) and looked at himself.
His hair was short, midnight black and a little messy and his eyes were a starting pair of baby blue with little flecks of silver. They were another punch to the gut because those were Sirius' eyes and that was not fucking funny anymore. His face was pale and his features were still chubby and not too defined.
All in all he made a rather cute baby but he thought all babies were cute as long as they kept quiet and did not interact with him, at all.
There was a man living in the flat with them. He was rather tall but fat. His face may have been attractive once upon a time but it was wrinkled and withered like old paper. He was dressed in simple blue denim trousers and an unbuttoned once-white-now-slightly-yellow shirt, dirty from sweat, spilled food and drinks.
And the alcoholic breath that reached across the room to Orion was explanation enough for that. But he could do anything. That man was his father and Orion needed to accept that simple fact.
Oh, and his mother was a whore. No, really. He saw her once, going out of the flat in the evening, after she tucked him into bed. He sneaked out of his room to go to the bathroom (even though he learned to never roam the apartment alone, without her, because the first time it happened and his clumsy toddler body made him trip on a few bottles of beer, he got quite a beating from his father. He learned that his magic wasn't really stable in his new bodies when he was a child and for it to be usable he needed to reach his eleventh birthday. He was still only two when it happened. he didn't stand a chance against an adult and a drunk man on top of that. And when he called for help from his horrified mother, she only watched the proceedings with wide, terrified eyes and shakily tucked herself into a corner. Well, it turned out that she cared more for her own safety than his. Figures. He was used to it so he was not really surprised but it stung all the same.) and saw her, ready to go and sell herself. And when he saw her, tight pink top, even tighter mini skirt, high heels and a ton of make up and hair spray, he couldn't bring himself to feel disgust. He only felt pity and slight curiousity because they lived in a big town. Surely, there were a lot of jobs in Magnolia. Surely, she could do better.
But alas, she whored herself out nearly every night and if that was okay with her, then Orion would not interfere.
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His room was a small one, bigger than Dudley's second room but still tiny. He thought about enlarging it with magic (his loyal, loyal magic, his precious gift and sometimes his only friend, following him across time and dimensions) but decided against it as soon as he heard about the world and got the general idea of it. There were wizards in this world. They were an open society, nothing like Magical Britain or other hidden communities across the world in his first life. The muggles in this world - but wait that wasn't right because muggles did not have a drop of magic in their systems and those people here had magic but just choose not to learn it or just did not have enough - knew about the existence of Magic or Ethernao, as they called it. And the wizards formed Guilds which then took on different odd jobs, similar to mercenaries. But without killing. And he was honestly confused here because killing was more of a taboo here than it was in the Wizarding World. He thought it strange. But what with the War it was rather obvious that people (people? He didn't think he was even human anymore) would get used to it (and getting used to death, truly a bizarre experience but it happened nonetheless). It was weird for someone like him who for the past few lifetimes needed to kill to survive but-. No, not going there, he was not going to reminisce a about those times, nope.
Well, he was just confused. What if there was a dangerous criminal and he killed many people and his magic was too powerful for him to be held in prison? What then? Do they set him free or what? In his first life, there was still a chance of a Dementor's kiss and as much as he shuddered at the mere thought he couldn't say it wasn't effective. It was very much so. The wizard is dead and the creature is sated. All is well. And it is not a bloody process. Not at all. The soul is not bloody nor is the removal of it.
Apparently, the ones who took missions like those were the Dark Guilds. Those were illegal in the eyes of the government and they were hunted, or at least that was what everyone believed in.
About his location, he was currently in the city of Magnolia which was in the Kingdom of Fiore. He had no idea where exactly, he did not manage to get his hands on a map quite yet. There was also a guild nearby but he was still too young to wander around and check it out. The only thing he knew about it was the name. Fairy Tail.
It sounded promising.
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Laxus remembered when he first met Orion. He, then a twelve year old and the nine year old raven. He saw him in some out of the way alley in a cold December evening. It was already dark outside and the snow was slowly drifting down from the sky and onto the silent streets of Magnolia. He was on his way back from an errand to buy some ingredients for the guild, sent on it by his grandfather, when he heard a noise coming from behind him. He whirled to face it, scowling immediately.
But he relaxed slowly when he saw that the noise was just a trashcan falling over and the perpetrators were just kids. There were four boys running out of the alley, screaming about monsters and shadows, tripping over themselves to get away. They were dirty and all of them had bloody noses, two were holding their stomachs, one - his arm and the last one was stumbling, as if one of his legs was uncooperative. One of them bumped into Laxus and sent one of the three bags of groceries sailing. The blond would have taken a swing at the brat with great pleasure but he still had two bags in his hands and they may have ended up the same way if he went after the boy so he just huffed and let him go. But not before committing his face to memory. What, he wasn't that merciful.
He would have started gathering the spilled goods but he decided to investigate first. Curious as ever, he took a glance inside the alley and saw a boy in the weak light of the lamp situated in the main street.
The kid was small and pale, with a mop of midnight black, messy hair and baby blue eyes which were speckled with little bits of silver. He still remembered the clothes the younger mage wore. Dirty black shorts and blue hooded blouse with sleeves pulled up to his elbows. His, once white, trainers were scuffed and almost grey. Not a good outfit for a snowy winter night.
Also, his knees were skinned, he had a smattering of purple, green and yellow bruises on his arms. He was wiping a trail of blood that was trickling from his mouth with his sleeve. He had a black eye too.
The boy was slowly getting up and brushing his clothes off the snow. It didn't really help as the white powder already soaked into the material. But he didn't seem to mind, not seeing Laxus at all (now he knew that the boy was actually ignoring him back then, as he knew perfectly well that Orion had some sharp senses and would have heard or even smelled him coming) and turning to a small form that was cowering behind him. He slowly knelt down and reached out, pausing when his hand was half a meter away from the animal, Laxus saw, a small black cat, to be precise. The cat hissed at first but when it saw that the boy wasn't moving, only waiting, it relaxed and approached him cautiously, butting his delicate head into the dirty hand. Soon, the cat was purring loudly and winding itself around the boy.
It wasn't difficult to guess what happened, the four boys were probably hurting the animal and that one stepped in, getting hurt in the process.
And Laxus knew. Knew, from the first glance he took at this boy, that he wanted a friend like that. A friend that will always stand by his side, even with odds placed against them. One who will reach out to him even when he was prissy and angry.
Laxus was confused and lonely because his father was thrown out of the guild and everyone was treating him like he was not his own person but just his grandfather's grandson. And that may have been why he was the one that called out to the stranger he found in some alley, bloody and in clothes that were wholly inappropriate for the weather.
And that was probably the best decision of his life.
"Hey! Hey, you!" Well, maybe he wasn't the most social of people but he still tried. And it worked in getting the boy's attention. The raven turned to him, relaxed but with his hands held loosely by his sides, and raised a brow, cocking his head to the right.
The boy looked him over quickly and frowned, "Yeah?"
Laxus floundered for a second for what to say and blurted the first thing that came into his mind.
"You must be freezing in those clothes. Come with me, I can get you somewhere warm." He said and nodded, already taking a step in the direction of the Guild and coming to a halt when he didn't hear anyone following. "Come on! I'm cold just looking at you!" His eyes darted to the little cat, "You can bring him too, just hurry up." And this time when he started down the street, light footsteps followed him and when he casually looked behind, he could see the boy following him with a blank face. "By the way, what's your name?" He asked and then pointed a finger to his face "I'm Laxus Dreyar." Laxus was delighted to see no recognition in those blue eyes.
There was silence for a moment and then-
"Orion Black." Was the quiet answer and Laxus grinned at the droll voice of his companion. He was already looking forward to the years they would spend together, adventuring and- "Are you going to leave these groceries there?" Shit! He forgot about those! His face burned so he buried it in his scarf, pretending it was just the cold, and hurried back, swearing and using all the words he learned through all those years spent in the company of drunk wizards.
"Well, are you gonna help me or what?" He bit out, embarrassed. He was grudgingly thankful when the raven didn't even smile at his behavior, only nodded gravely and got to work.
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Makarov didn't look up from his tankard of beer when he heard the front door open. His grandson finally returned from the grocery run. He frowned, come to think of it, that was a little longer than it was supposed to be. Did Laxus run into some trouble?
He opened his mouth and raised his head, ready to question the ten year old when words died in his throat. There was a boy standing next to Laxus and carrying a bag of groceries. And there was a cat on his head. Small, black and, as it seemed, with perfect sense of balance because it certainly wasn't easy to stay on top of a kid's head. The child himself was dressed in light summer clothes and looked a little beat up. It better not be Laxus' fault, he thought glancing at the bruises and split lip, because if it was then Makarov was going to teach his grandson some manners. If Laxus beat him up and ordered for him to carry the groceries...
He stood up, intent on having a talk with him when he took a deeper look at the two. The small raven didn't seem scared or uneasy, only impassive, almost bored, and he was carrying only one bag, while Laxus was balancing two. Well, then, that's alright, he guessed and sat back down.
Then he plastered a big grin on his face and called out, "Hey! Laxus! Who have you got there?"
His grandson spared him a glance and looked to the one at his side.
"His name is Orion Black, old man! He's eating with us tonight!" And even though that was no question, only a statement, Makarov nodded, eyes quickly taking note of the thinness of the child, and roared cheerily for food. He noticed a tensing of muscles from the boy whose body language went tense like a coiled spring but after a moment of nothing but resounding cheers from the rest of the guild, he soon uncoiled himself little from the ready-to-fight-or-flight pose and followed after Laxus to the kitchen to leave the groceries.
Makarov hummed. That behavior wasn't normal for a child that young. It was as if he was a war veteran or something along these lines. Fiore wasn't at war in all the time he was alive so that wasn't really a comparison he could make. Well, then, the kid looked like one of the more experienced Mages, the one who has seen it all and was always on high alert for any more future surprises. His eyes were always moving, his posture seemingly relaxed but ready to spring to action at any moment, his face in a constant expression of indifference, not betraying any thoughts.
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Orion frowned subtly from above his bowl of soup. His eyes flickered under the cover of his hair and observed his companion, his magic scanning the whole building. He did not know why he agreed to come along with this Laxus Dreyar but he did not regret it, not yet. The blond child, although gruff, was unexpectedly warm and nice under the thick layer of brashness and bad manners.
He was thankful for the excuse it gave him because he didn't want to go back to the place he lived in, the cold flat with the drunk man who called himself his father. He was extremely unlucky when it came to this life in this new dimension, an alcoholic father and a whore of a mother were not the best choice of parents he could have ended up with. But he could handle it. He lived through worse.
It was a new start for him, no matter the fact that it was a shitty start, it still counted.
The last few lifetimes were not of any help to him because there was no magic in them so they did not have anyone or anything remotely useful to him. This world, he glanced at the mages laughing around him, was something else, it wasn't like his original, first one but there was Magic and that was all he needed. His search for a cure to immortality began anew. He felt an itch on the center of his torso where a black birthmark sat, in stark contrast to his fair skin, in the shape of a triangle which held a long line within a circle.
They heated up, as if in response to his resolve, We would like to see you try, they said.
I will, he answered.
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