Here it is! First Chapter of the reboot! Took longer because since I had no one vote in the poll last month, so I took a bit of time. The second chapter may take a week or two to complete. Always depends on inspiration and such. This is no longer a Hellsing Crossover although it is a new Crossover with three other things: a movie, a movie series, and a videogame. Will remain in only the Harry Potter section.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER AND/OR SEQUELS AND DIRECT PRODUCTS TO IT'S SERIES! J.K. ROWLING AND WARNER BROTHERS HAVE AND OWN THOSE RIGHTS! IF I DID, HARRY WOULD HAVE BEEN PAIRED WITH EITHER LUNA OR HERMIONE! I JUST OWN THIS VARIATION OF MY OWN CREATION OF THIS PARTICULAR FAN-MADE WORK OF FICTION ALONG WITH ANY CHARACTERS THAT ARE CREATED BY ME! NO ONE ELSE CAN USE ANYTHING THAT I WRITE OF THIS STORY AND OF ANY OTHER FAN-FIC THAT I WRITE AND/OR CREATE WITHOUT MY CONSENT!
Enjoy!
Chapter 1
A roar of defiance and pain fills great yet dark corridors. Almost no light can be seen with such halls, except for the few low lit torches and braziers. Curses of depravity fly from the mouth of a tortured and ragged convict, all in attempt to force his captor to kill him or to make a mistake.
A powerful yet disinterested dim amber eyes glare at the tall heavy door of the prisoner's interrogation room. A sigh of tiredness escapes from underneath them. Hinting to a younger man's tone of voice.
A loud pop is heard by the young man, coming to his left.
He barely glances down towards the reflecting surfaces of smooth spectacles. The lowest of flickering light if reflected upon the glasses as the torchlight barely reveals the persons face. His eyes lazily shift back to the door of muffled obscenities.
"Has she been secured?" says a slightly monotonous voice.
The rounded glasses slowly drift down a bit then back in place.
"Indeed, Milord. As well as all of the accommodations have been met as you have instructed. We will be waiting for the arrival of the others within the coming days. They are taking muggle transports to arrive as close as they can. Some of the sentinels have agreed to meet with them to bring them here. She will be thrilled to have a reunion with them, in particularly with her," responds a respectful deep voice. The amber eyes close for a moment as a sigh of relief escapes from their owner. The eyes open once more and look to the spectacles.
"That's good. And what about the Doctor? Has he arrived yet?" asks the young monotonous voice. The reflecting glasses shift a bit.
"Unfortunately, no. Due to his conditioning, his own travel is limited at night alone. He couldn't find a private muggle air transport that suited his 'needs'. I expect that he may arrive just before the proceedings. He sent both a letter and a call to regard his sympathies to us and says that the best he can do for her is to most likely lessen or even numb the pain. He also wrote that he is sorry he couldn't be in contact earlier with us upon our request of him, for he was unfortunately occupied by hunters," states the deep voice in a tone of disappointment. The amber orbs glare at the door of the occupied room.
"You may respond to him that it is alright. For I understand his quarrels with them and their prejudices of our kind. Regardless of our variations. Have a room prepared for him and his mate in one of the empty vaults as well as an office and lab prepared for his workspace. And make sure to get him and her anything that they needs or orders for his practice or that they personally desire, both of magical and muggle origination. Inform him as well that there will be no need for any 'midnight prowls' for drinking, we have a good few... options that will fuel their thirsts," orders the monotonous voice. The spectacles nod once more.
"Yes, Milord. Is there anything else that you need?" questions the owner of the glasses. The amber eyes momentarily shirt to the spectacles then back to the door.
"Yes.. Let the others know that this room will have to cleaned in a bit since our guest is a bit hostile... And inform the guard to be on alert.. I can feel 'him' approaching... Not now, but soon he will be here..," says the owner of the amber eyes as he steps towards the door. The spectacles stiffly shift a bit at this response.
"I see.. Should I also tell them to engage him if he arrives?"
The man with amber eyes glances back at the reflective glasses, noting the new edge of worry and seriousness in their owner's tone.
"That would be like offering a buffet to a gluttonous giant... No.. Have your self as well as a squadron of both the best sentinels and mystics escort him to me.. Give great heed to him that if he so much as harms or manipulates any under my family's domain and/or protection, he will have to answer to me.. Make sure you have wards or charmed wear in place to dispel any amount Occlumency in place... I don't want my own personnel used against me and I don't want to have to kill them if they are being used...," orders the man. The spectacles shift down deeply before rising back into it's original position, indicating that their owner has bowed for a moment.
"I understand, Milord. All preparations will be met at once," says the male being wearing glasses. Then the spectacles vanish into the darkness of the night as they and their owner are followed with a loud pop. The man with amber eyes releases a sigh of relief as his attention returns to loud yet muffled obscenities and curses behind the broad and dense door.
"Breaks over, back to work it is."
-London, England-
The flash of wispy ill emerald. A notorious symbol of the infamous Killing Curse: The Avada Kedavra. It's glow so otherworldly to many yet very familiar to him.
A pale and well-bearded face, of the one he calls kin, once held a witty and proud grin yet contorts into discomfort and confusion. Just before Sirius's eyes pale upon his life leaves his soon lost body. Outrage and anguish fill his heart as his godfather's name tears through his vocals into a cry of despair.
He glares at her before she takes her leave. Something peculiar is in her eyes, he notices. They lightly shine, similar to a dim wetness. Then a cruel smile adorns her lips as she dashes away with a maddening cackle. This fuels his hatred and follows her in vain pursuit.
This is what goes on in the mind of one Harry James Potter, known as The Boy Who Lived, sits at a window-side booth at the Treats Food Stand as he reads a Daily Prophet newspaper. The small fast food restaurant is located in an underground train station. The headlines of the Daily Prophet prints: 'Harry Potter! The Chosen One?'. It also goes into detail about the past events that took place at the Ministry of Magic as well as the trial of Lucius Malfoy. As he read he reads some more of the paper's contents, a waitress of the small restaurant approaches him and notices the newspaper. This causes the woman to speak her mind.
"Harry Potter..? Who is Harry Potter?" asks the curious young waitress. The raven-haired boy looks to her and notices that she is quite alluring as well as somewhat appealing to the eye. He notices glow of the reflection of light on her smooth skin as well as the light spray of freckles across her face, which he thinks that gives the girl a feature that can be defined as cute to him. He looks to her eyes and notices that she is still waiting for an answer.
"Oh... um.. No one, really. Bit of a tosser, if I'd have to guess," nervously lies Harry. The waitress looks back to the paper as she takes the wrappings of his meal. A slight bemused expression adorns her subtle features.
"Funny thing, that paper of yours. A few nights ago, I swore that I thought saw one of the pictures move," admits the young woman. Harry raises his eyebrows in mock surprise to make it seem that he didn't know that it could do so.
"Really..?" asks the young wizard. She smiles kindly and a bit of embarrassingly at Harry as a low blush adorns her cheeks.
"Thought I had gone around the twist," admittedly says the waitress then starts to leave. This causes the raven-haired boy to act quickly.
"Hey.. um... I was wondering..," starts the wizard until he is cut off by the waitress.
"Eleven.. That's when I get off. You can tell me all about that tosser Harry Potter," states the young woman as she smiles at him then leaves to continue her job. Harry watches her leave then searches through his pockets and pulls out a small mint container. He starts to fumble with it, but stops as he notices an odd flickering of a platform light on the opposite side of the subway, through the window. A train start to pass by as there is a slight plume of dust.
After a moment or two, the train passes and reveals in place of the cloud of dust, stands Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. The aged headmaster of Hogwarts looks to the boy and slightly waves. Harry smiles to himself as he sees the old man. He then makes his way to the professor.
As the younger wizard approaches the elder, he sees Albus looking at a large wall advertisement for perfume that shows a model with a wand seductively pressed against her lips. The advertisement's captions says 'Tonight, Make a Little Magic with Your Man'. Harry stops beside the headmaster and looks to him expectingly. Dumbledore then acknowledges his arrival though doesn't remove his gaze from the logo.
"I once knew a muggle girl from Liverpool.. Her hair was like finely spun silk, no light could resist it.. She was a daughter of a bakery cook...," states the old sorcerer. He then turns and looks to Harry with knowing gaze.
"You have been a bit reckless, Harry," says Albus. Harry looks to a passing train though gazes at it distantly.
"I like riding around on the trains... It helps taking my mind off of... things..," admits the young wizard. Dumbledore nods his head in agreement of such a subtle distraction. The boy then notices that one of the elder magic user's hand is blackened and withered as well as sickly looking. Dumbledore follows his gaze then holds up his hand.
"Rather unpleasant to behold, is it not? Though the tale itself is quite adventurous if I do say so; however, now would be an inappropriate time to retell it. For we have a busy night ahead of us... Take my hand, Harry," say the old wizard. He then offers his healthy hand to the boy.
"Please do as I say. There are quite a few surprises for you tonight. Some might even be more unbearable than others," states Albus in a tired and sad tone. At this, Harry looks over to the small cafe to see the waitress, he had just recently made plans with, is looking for him. He sighs at knowing his timely misfortune then touches the headmaster's arm. Suddenly, everything in his vision becomes a warped visage and constantly changes until it settles.
-Unknown Town-
Harry holds his stomach as if he had been on a rough rollercoaster ride with his stomach full of food. The boy choked down the almost rising bile. Albus stands beside him as he looks out to the reaches of the new destination they appeared in. After a moment of battling his nausea, Harry looks to the old sorcerer.
"Professor..? We apparated, didn't we...?" asks the lightheaded boy. The old man nods without looking to him as his vision searches the area before them.
"Indeed we did, and quite successfully I might add. Most people usually vomit on their first time," says Dumbledore. The boy then inhales deeply and exhales slowly as he reigns over his momentary sickness.
"I can't imagine why.. they would..," says Harry, both weakly and sarcastically. After he had finally regain the will to walk, both Harry and the professor made their way down a dark narrow street that is lined with houses on both sides. The night sky is flowing in a sea of clouds.
"Harry, I like to welcome you to this small and charming village of Budleigh Babberton. I assume, that right about now, you are wondering why I have brought you here at this time of the night. Am I right..?" states the elder wizard. Harry looks to him with a slightly sheepish gaze.
"After all these years, Professor, I've learned to just sort of roll with it, sir..," admits the boy. Albus chuckles amusingly at the boy's modesty. He looks over to a particular house that is close by and hardens his gaze upon it. The old sorcerer draws his wand.
"Wand in hand and ready, Harry..," orders the headmaster a whispering command. The raven-haired boy cautiously pulls out his wand. They approach the home and Harry notices that the front door is hanging limply on a single hinge as cracks are scattered upon the door itself.
"Lumos..," softly chants Dumbledore, causes a small orb of dim light to appear at the tip of his wand. The two walk through the ruined entrance and are welcomed by a visage of chaotic mess and destruction. There is scattered papers as well as torn and ruined books. The walls, floor, and ceiling are covered in gashes, scratches, and claw marks as well as blood sprayed everywhere. A layer of broken glass and wooden shards layer the floor. Furniture lay in pieces, except an armchair, as their stuffing is spewed everywhere. The elder wizard looks cautiously around the ruined home.
"Horace..?" calls out Albus in a low voice. Harry looks around as well, but stops as he feels and hears liquid drop onto his shoe. He slowly looks up to see some of the wooden boards are bulging out of the roof and blood covering them, slowly dripping. A single drop lands on Harry's forehead. He goes to wipe it off, but Albus stops him. He then traces and wipes the blood drop's remnants off of the boy's forehead. The professor first smells it then licks the droplet of his finger.
The old man furrows his brow then turns to the armchair and notices a pair of fuzzy sleepwear slippers that are slightly tucked under it. He slowly walks up to the slightly overstuffed armchair then lightly jabs at the cushioning of the chair. Suddenly, a head of an elderly man pops out of the top of the chair from the seam as it splits itself open.
"Merlin's Beard!" yelps the head. The rest of the chair starts to change and transforms into a lightly weighted old man wearing blue striped pajamas. He also hold a wand in his hand as well. The man rubs his rounded stomach.
"There was no need to disfigure this old boy, Albus," complains the old man. Dumbledore smiles at the man with a kind smile of familiarity.
"I must say, Horace, you do make a very convincing armchair," comments the headmaster. The man now known as Horace chuckles as he pats his stomach.
"It's all in the upholstery. I come by the stuffing naturally. Say, mind telling me what gave it away?" asks the man identified as Horace. The old man, with too few middle names, nods towards the ceiling where the blood drips from.
"Dragon's blood," answers Albus. Horace smiles in embarrassment.
"Yes.. Well, I couldn't use wizard's blood, now could I?" says the man, jokingly. His gaze then lands on Harry's form and low gasp escapes from his lips. Dumbledore notices this and hides a knowing smirk.
"Ah, yes, yes. Introductions are ado. Harry, this is a very old colleague as well as one of the closest of friends of mine, Horace Slughorn. And Horace; this is, well, you already know who this is. Some have started to come to say that he is the Chosen One," drawls out the headmaster in an ever-so-teasing of tones. Horace keeps his eyes glued to the boy, as if hypnotized by Harry's very presence. Dumbledore looks around at the ruined house.
"So why all the theatrics, Horace? Were you, perhaps, expecting someone else by any chance?" questions Albus. The rounded old man blinks away his hypnosis and looks to his fellow old wizard.
"S-Someone else? I'm not quite sure what you mean," states Horace. The headmaster just raises an eyebrow and stares at him with a most-knowing glance. The rounded man then sighs and waves his hands in defeat.
"Oh alright.. Those bloody Death Eaters have been trying to recruit me this past year... Do you know what it's like? One can only say no so many times until they..," starts Horace.
"Start taking matters into their own hands..?" finishes Dumbledore. The rounded old man then gives Albus a miserable stare then nods tiredly.
"I never stay anywhere for more than a week. The muggle family that owns this place are vacationing somewhere in the Canary Islands for the summer," states Horace. The headmaster looks to the ruins of the house once more before looking to his old friend.
"Well, I think we should put everything back to order. Don't you think so?" states Albus.
"Oh, most definitely," agrees the rounded man as he nods. They both wave their wands and the house, furniture, as well as pictures and books start to repairing themselves as they place themselves where they had originally been and the blood evaporates into a small fading billow of mist. The room looks to be of a well-mannered living room of a middle-class class family. Harry looks at the room in amazement then smiles to himself.
"I don't think I'll ever get tired of this," says the boy to himself, relishing in the nostalgia he feels. The headmaster and Horace smiles in satisfaction of their work. Albus then turns to his old friend.
"That was a bit of fun... May I use the loo?" asks Dumbledore. Slughorn looks to him and nods as he points down a hallway.
"Yes. Just down the hall, there," responds the other elder. The headmaster then walks away and towards the bathroom as Horace decides to make a small statement.
"Don't think I don't know why you're here, Albus! My answer is still no! Absolutely, unequivocally no!" calls out the old rounded man in an agitated tone of voice. The old sorcerer doesn't reply, only leaving an uncomfortable silence between Horace and Harry. After a moment in the awkwardness, Slughorn decides to break the silence.
"You know, you look very much like your father. Except your eyes though, you've got.." starts Horace.
"My mother's eyes.. I know... I get that a lot..," interrupts Harry. The rounded man smiles sadly at this.
"Lily... Oh Lovely Lily.. She was very exceedingly bright, your mother. Even more impressive if one takes in consideration that she was a muggle-born," admits Slughorn. Harry narrows his eyes at what the man said.
"One of my best friends is a muggle-born. She is the best in our year," states Harry in a bit of growing offense. Horace recognizes his mistake and quickly shakes his head apologetically.
"Oh! Don't think I am prejudice! Your mother was one of my absolute favorites! See? Over there, down in the front," says Horace as he points to a dresser that has many black and white framed photographs on it. The raven-haired boy's ire immediately dissipates as he slowly walks over to them and sees a picture of his mother and father along with many other people he assumed that were their classmates. The rounded man stands beside Harry as he smiles happily.
"All successful former students of mine. You can recognize Barnubus Cuffe, the editor of the Daily Prophet. He always takes my owls if I want to give my opinion on the news of the day. Oh, and there's Ambrosius Flume of the Honeydukes. Sends me a hamper of chocolates on my birthday. That is before all this nasty business. There's Gweng Jones, she's the captain of the Holyhead Harpies. Gives me free tickets to one of their games if I want. Though, I haven't been to one in quite some time...," states the rounded man. Harry picks up one of the pictures and looks at it closely. He sees a boy that looks faintly similar to Sirius. As he does so, Horace takes this time to first look at the boy as if he were a rare object then he turns his attention to the picture in the boy's hands. He chuckles at the memory of it.
"Regulus Black. You probably no doubt know his brother, Sirius. I believe his death was just a month or so ago. I taught the entire Black family. Well, except for Sirius. A shame really. He really was such a talented boy. I did get Regulus when he came along, but I would have liked the set," states Slughorn in tone of longing. Harry puts the picture back and lightly clenches his jaw and grinds his teeth to stop himself from breaking down of the memories that attempt to haunt and dig into his mind.
He looks to the other pictures then one in particular catches his eye. It is a picture of his parents in between two other couples. One of the men almost distinctly looked similar to Neville, though a bit thinner. So Harry figures that the man and the woman hanging onto his arm were Neville's parents.
The other man standing beside his mother is slightly taller than his father and has a slightly bigger build. The picture made it seem that his eyes were light grey, which could have meant that they were or they were green or blue. The man's hair seemed to be at least shoulder length and wavy. His hair color could have been some type of light blondish color or maybe even a lightly darker shade of light grey or white like the Malfoy's. The man's lips are a bit thin and has a look of high stature as the man stands straighten. Harry also notices that his skin is a bit paler and that he and the other men, including his father, are wearing black formal dress suits.
The woman on the man's left, who is intertwining her fingers with his, is about as tall as his mother. Her skin is fair and her hair dark as well as long and straight. Harry figures that it is probably brown. Her eyes are a bit darker than the man's, but still a bit light. She is wearing what looks to be a halter dress while his mother and Alice Longbottom are wearing similar a-line skirt dresses, though his mother's is a bit lighter. The woman in the halter dress is smiling beautifully as well as his mother and Misses Longbottom. His father and Frank are grinning, though the last man just stares at the camera with most likely boredom and disinterest. Harry then looks to Horace to see the man looking at him.
"Mister Slughorn, sir? Who are the other two people standing with my parents and the Longbottoms'?" asks the raven-haired boy. Slughorn then takes his attention away from the Boy-Who-Lived and looks to the picture that the boy is referring to then sighs, both happily and sadly.
"That is Jacob Silvermane of the Royal Clan of Silvermane. And she is Silvia Lionheart, one of the last direct Descendants of the Founder Godric Gryffindor. They were some of my most prized students, other than your father. Who, of which, was also a Descendant of Gryffindor," proudly admits the rounded man. Harry narrows his eyes at this.
"Wait.. I'm a descendant of a founder of Hogwarts?!" states/asks Harry as looks to the retired old wizard. Horace looks to the surprised boy in surprise as well.
"You didn't know? Your father's family is descendants of the Potterson family, who are essentially one of a handful of families founded and formed by the sons of Godric Gryffindor's three sons. Though it is through Godric's lone daughter that the Lionheart family came to be through her marriage to some old squib king's half-blood son, who I believe was named was Philip. I think the king's name was Rick? Or was it Richie? Bah, I always forget it. He and his brother was more famous amongst the muggles rather than the Magical World. Harry, do you pay attention in your history classes? Because that should be of common knowledge to you, you know," says Slughorn. Harry then smiles a bit embarrassingly.
"Well, um, history isn't one of the best subjects that I study, truth be told..," admits the embarrassed boy. The rounded man sighs then chuckles knowingly. As he is about to reply, Dumbledore enters the room as he holds a muggle magazine.
"Mind if I take this, Horace? I do love knitting patterns," says the headmaster. Slughorn blinks in confusion for a moment then looks to his old friend.
"Of course, Albus. But you're not leaving now, are you?" asks the anxious rounded man. Harry walks towards Albus as the headmaster answers the other old man.
"I think I know a lost cause when I see one. It is regrettable. I would've considered it a personal triumph had you chosen to return to Hogwarts, Horace. You are like my friend here, Mr. Potter: one of a kind. Oh, and before we make our departure, I do believe Jacob's and Silvia's child will also be transferred to Hogwarts for his sixth year as well..," starts Dumbledore and pauses as Slughorn breathes a disbelieving gasp in reaction.
"... And I believe that it will be a shame that he won't get to meet you. You do know of his circumstances, correct? The Ministry is allowing him as well as a few unique individuals to enter or transfer as well. But I will not take anymore of your time and we must be off. Come, Harry," states Albus as both he and the Boy-Who-Lived exit the house. Dumbledore starts to hum as he and Harry walk across the cobblestone walkway. Then the door behind them snaps open as Horace stands there in his pajamas. The two stop as Harry looks to the rounded man as Albus keeps his back to his friend.
"Alright, alright! I'll do it! But I want Professor Merrythought's old office! Not that bloody old water closet that I use to have and I want a raise! These are mad times, I tell you! Mad!" submits Slughorn. The headmaster nods in agreement.
"Indeed they are, Horace. Indeed they are..," says Albus then both he and Harry travel back towards the village's square in silence. That is, until Harry decides to speak his mind.
"Sir..? What exactly was that back there...?" asks the boy. Dumbledore keeps walking as he answers Harry's question.
"Harry, you are talented, famous, and powerful. Horace values these traits. That is why Professor Slughorn is going to try to 'collect' you. As well as your new classmate, who also carry these traits and some other 'unique' ones. Anyways, it is crucial for Horace to return to Hogwarts at this time..," states the headmaster. Harry let's this ponder in his mind then looks to Albus as they continue to walk.
"Professor..? Is it true what Professor Slughorn said about my family?" questions Harry. Dumbledore sighs sadly at this.
"Yes.. Though I was hoping for that to be revealed a bit later on this night. For I did tell you, there are some very shocking surprises for you on this night. Some that even surprised me because I myself had only found out today about them...," answers Albus. Harry furrows his brow at this then starts to say something, but Dumbledore beats him to it.
"No, you will not be returning, Harry. I am sorry that I had regretfully stolen this wondrous evening from you. For she was truthfully, a very pretty young woman. Hedwig and your belongings will be waiting for you after we complete tonight's busy agenda," admits the headmaster as he stops walking and holds out his arm to the boy. Harry stops as well then sighs sadly and slowly reaches out for the old man's arm.
-Unknown Place-
Harry James Potter, again, is clutching his stomach and resisting the strong urge to vomit after apparating a second time. He is currently on his knees and taking in deep breaths.
"I might never get use to doing that, Professor..," states the boy as Albus stands beside him, cautiously looking around at where they are.
"Oh, you will, Harry. Just takes a bit of practice and time. After that, it'll just make you feel a bit lightheaded. So shall we continue or would you like to rest for a moment?" says/asks the headmaster. Harry slowly looks up from his position to answer, but stops as both he and Dumbledore are in front of what looks to be a stone cathedral or a small castle. It's entrance is a large pair of metallic double doors. Standing in front of the massive doors, looks to be a very short and well dressed man. The boy also notices that the sky is blanketed in a sea of thick, dark, and thunderous clouds. He then looks to the headmaster.
"Professor..? Where are we exactly..?" asks the now curious and cautious teen. Dumbledore gazes upon the manor as he answer's the youth's question.
"Harry... This is the Palace of the Mystics... The main and only known manor of the Royal Clan, Silvermane.. Few have ever been here, Harry... Even fewer for those invited... This is probably the fifth time I have ever been invited here and most likely my last..," pauses the warlock as young man gets to his feet and stares in awe of the structure. At the elder man's words, Harry gives Dumbledore both a skeptical and worried gaze.
"Sir..? Why do you say that..? Is something wrong?" questions the teen. Albus just chuckles amusingly at the boy's worry.
"No Harry. It's just that the Silvermane's are a very.. How should I say this.. Private I suppose..? Yes, they are a very private family. Very distrustful of most people," states the old wizard. This causes the young man to tilt his head in confusion.
"Why is that sir?" asks Harry. The elder man looks to the teen with a slightly serious expression on his face.
"Because of the secrets of their magics, Harry.. They're infamously known as a family of spellswords, or combat mages and war witches. Adrian Silvermane, they're ancestor, had helped the founder's of Hogwarts battle against Merlin's greatest and most notable enemy, Morgana. After this, Merlin himself created an ancient and disbanded guild formally known as the Sage's Circle. It was consisted of the heirs of the four families as well as the heir of the clan, the current headmaster of the school, Minister of Magic, Leader of the Auroras, and that of the leaders of existing groups founded by them. In muggle history, they say there was once a knighthood called the Templars. That is an example of one of the few organizations that was founded by Adrian Silvermane. Though, after some time, they have forgotten their original purpose and followed a greedy and corrupted muggle leader that held the religious title of the Pope and caused a great many deaths through what he deemed a 'holy war' or a crusade... Although, during that time many muggle leaderships fought against one another.. The original group, the ones that didn't forget their purpose, may still exist, but that is all that I know of the subject... Let's knock, shall we? Don't want to continue testing the patience of hosts," says the headmaster as he starts to walk towards the entrance of the cathedral. The scarred-teen follows the old man's stead.
As they approach the entrance, Harry then realizes that the well-groomed short man is actually a well-groomed house elf. He stands about as tall as Harry's mid thigh. The elf has slightly wrinkly tanned skin. He has high cheekbones and long as well as narrow chin. He has hair that is oily black and neatly combed into a short ponytail. His nose is long, crooked, and pointed as his nostrils are slightly large. The elf's ears are long and pointed as well while his lips are slightly thin and chapped. His eyes are narrow, small, and black. A scowl is etched upon his face. He wears: a dark blue waistcoat with a silver-lace trim and buttons; a white cotton shirt that has ruffles at the collar and the ends of the sleeves, under the waistcoat; dark blue breeches; white cotton stockings; and lastly, black leather buckled shoes as well as chained spectacles. Harry has to choke down a slight chuckle of the appearance of the elf. They both stop in front of the 'nobleman' and he looks up at them with an irritated scowl on his face.
"You are almost late, Sir Dumbledore. Milord, as well as many others, were starting to grow very intolerable of your tardiness...," states the elf in a deep raspy voice. The old headmaster's expression goes to slightly more saddened one, which bemuses the teen.
"Has she...?" starts Albus. The elven noble sighs sadly and shakes his head. This causes the old man to sigh in relief.
"No... Madam Silvia is still with us.. She.. was willing to hold off until you arrived... Though the Doctor has had to increase the dosage to ease her pain.. But she is adamant on remaining awake through the proceedings..," admits the elf with a slight chuckle. Albus also returns the chuckle with a saddened one of his own.
"She has always been so stubborn and focused.. Especially during her youth while at Hogwarts..," says the warlock. The elf nods at this in agreement with Albus then straightens himself and holds out one of his wrinkled long-fingered hands.
"Yes.. Anyways, wands please. You will have them returned to you after leaving the grounds," orders the elf. Harry raises an eyebrow in confusion as he slightly grips his wand out of caution.
"Why do you need our wands..?" asks the cautious teen. This causes Albus to gently clasp his hand onto the youth's shoulder.
"Don't worry, Harry. It is a precaution that our hosts always makes. They don't want anyone to possibly harm them or the other guests. Besides, all the guests have to do so," states the old man. Harry then nods in understanding.
"I see..," says the teen as he slowly hands his wand to the elf as Dumbledore does the same. Before the elf starts to turn away, he gazes at the youth for a moment.
"Tell me boy.. What is your name..?" asks the elf. The black-haired young man slightly sweats in nervousness.
"Harry Potter..," says the youth. The elf narrows his eyes at this then smirks knowingly as he chuckles.
"I see. So it seems that you will be very surprised... Lord Potter-Black..," states the elf then he vanishes. Harry tilts his head in confusion as Albus sighs out of stress. The teen then looks to the headmaster for an answer to his unasked question.
"That Agris... He takes the utmost pleasure in causing me more trouble... Later Harry... For now, we cannot afford to keep our hosts waiting any longer" says the old man as the doors slowly open, revealing a torch-lighted white marble corridor that has many supporting grey marble pillars. They both enter and the doors close themselves as well as lock themselves. Before Harry could ask Dumbledore about it, he feels movement under his feet and is pulled forward. Harry falls backwards and lands on his backside. As he is about to ask what had done that, he realizes that the carpet underneath them is speeding down the corridor quickly as it carries both Harry and Dumbledore, though the latter of the two is still standing firmly and calmly. The teen looks around and notices that there are many medieval armour sets are standing against the walls of the corridor, in between the pillars and holding or wielding various medieval weapons. Though he starts to notice something about the armours: their helmet are turning towards them, almost like were watching Harry and Albus as they pass by. This sends a slight chill down the young man's spine. He then shakes off the feeling of the 'stares' and looks forward, focusing on what may or may not come and why had Agris the Elf had called him Lord Potter-Black.
After a few minutes, the teen gives up on thinking about it as the carpet comes to a halt at a tall staircase. The young wizard stands as Dumbledore starts climbing the stairway then Harry hesitantly follows his elder wizard's stead and climbs the stairs as well. Soon after climbing the stairwell, they arrive at a large landing that has a few tables and chairs on it. Most of the chairs and tables all seem to be delicately carved from mahogany.
There is also a dozen or so people here as well, though only a few are seated. Harry also recognizes a some of the people as all to familiar faces. They are: Neville Longbottom, Remus Lupin, Augusta Longbottom, Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, Nymphadora Tonks, Arthur Weasley, and Garrick Ollivander. There are at least seven or eight others as well, but the teen doesn't recognize or remember their faces. He also notices that they are all dressed in a formal fashion. This causes Harry to become slightly self-conscious about what he is wearing. Just as he straightens himself before he and Dumbledore make their presence known, the young man then notices and remembers one person that is in the center of the landing and sitting in a light grey marble throne that has many decorative runic carvings.
The person that is sitting in this throne is a woman that seems to be in her early to mid Thirties'. Her skin is deathly pale as she has a light sheen of sweat glistening it. The woman's eyes are slightly bagging from, what Harry guesses, insomnia. Her eyes also have a faded pink film over her blue irises, making her eye color become a light violet. The woman's chocolate brown hair cascades down shoulders like waterfalls as many light grey and white strands randomly flow with it. Her lips are somewhat full as her nose is small. She is wearing a sky blue silk gown and a light grey house robe. There are also a few, what look to be, medical IVs surrounding her and are attached to her arms. She has a look of distance in her eyes, as if she is seeing something that no one else can. Beside the woman stands Agris, the elf they had met at the entrance, in an attentive matter.
As the duo approaches the group, the scarred teen notes that there are two mildly high staircases that lead up to another landing. The staircases are connected by a marble railing on the edge of the landing. Harry also notice a a large, glass, and domed skylight that is letting in most of the light into the room as well as a few dimly lit torches. The landing above, however, is still shrouded in darkness.
The woman blinks for a moment in what seems to be confusion on her face then looks to the two new arrivals. She then does something that makes Harry almost blush from: she smiles. Her mostly perfect teeth gleam their whiteness. A beautiful and radiant smile that causes some of the other male members in the room to smile, chuckle, or blush(cough*Harry*cough cough*Neville*cough). Dumbledore steps towards her, but stops at least a meter or two away. The old warlock then courteously and respectfully bows his head to her.
"Forgive me for my tardiness, Madam Silvermane. I have had a pressingly busy schedule for this evening. As well as have had to bring another guest that I do believe you most-definitely wished to see," he says as he gestures towards Harry. She turns her gaze towards the young man and her eyes soften with a familiar sadness. The woman raised her right hand and gestures for him to step forward as the scarred-teen starts to slightly sweat while everyone's attention is on him. He then steps closer until he is standing beside Albus. The woman lets out a soft and almost silent giggle then gestures again for him to come forward. He blushes in embarrassment then steps forward until he is at least half a foot away from her. The woman then slightly leans forward. Agris decides to step closer and speak at this.
"If you would please kneel, Lord Potter-Black. The lady wishes to have a better look at you," states the elf. The scarred-teen nods and kneels down before the woman, though keeps his head down as well. She leans forward even more then reaches out and grasps the sides of his head with frail hands. The woman then adjusts his head so that they are staring eye-to-eye. This causes Harry to sweat a bit more in embarrassment of the closeness. The woman seems to scan his face then sweeps some of his short locks of hair away, revealing his scar. Her eyes widen for a moment then soften as a saddened smile appears on her face. This confuses the young man kneeling before her.
"Harry.. Potter... My.. how you.. have... grown.. The last... time I... saw... you... You were... just a.. young babe... Just barely.. larger... than a melon..You look... just.. like.. James... Though.. You do have... Lily's... eyes..," says the woman in a soft yet weak raspy voice, though inhaling air between almost every word. Harry then suddenly remembers who she is.
"Y-You're Silvia Lionheart, am I-I correct?" questions the surprised scarred-teen. This causes the woman to giggle at his astonishment.
"Yes... Though.. now.. a days.. I.. go by... Silver.. mane..," says a tired Silvia. Harry smiles to himself at this, but then furrows his brow as he glances at the IVs connected to her. She notices this then sighs sadly.
"You.. must.. be... wondering.. why I.. am.. like.. this.. eh..?" asks Lady Silvermane as she gestures to her current state. The young man only nods in reply. She gives the boy another sad smile.
"That... will.. have to... wait.. Harry... Right.. now.. I want... to.. hear.. of.. how my.. godson... has.. been..," states the woman weakly. Harry nods in agreement with this then waits a minute for her words to sink in. His eyes widen in shock and stands straight up as he looks to her while his heart beats deeply within his chest.
"W-What did y-you j-just say?!" stutters out the young man in a loud voice. Now it was Silvia's turn to furrow her brow in confusion as everyone is now looking at Harry.
"I.. said... that.. will.. have to-"
"No, not that! After that, what did you just call me?" desperately demands the Boy-Who-Lived. This causes the woman to tilt her head in confusion then Silvia's eyes soften in realization as she tiredly smiles beautifully.
"I... said.. you're.. my... godson.. Harry... I am.. your.. godmother.."
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Abyssal Divide.
