~To The Waters and the Wild~

Summary: Flying back from Godric's Hollow, Hagrid accidentally drops baby Harry over a wild forest. Harry is raised by rebel fairies until his Hogwarts letter arrives. The Dark Lord is in for a surprise... HP/LV romance.

Rating: M for slash (same-sex love) between Harry and Voldemort in later chapters.

Author's Note: Thank you for all the lovely reviews and comments! Sorry about the long absence. Bad writer's block - trying to get over it.

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~Chapter 1: The Boy Who Lived~

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Harry leaned against the trunk of the large oak tree and sighed. Shard was in one of his moods again. No matter how many lovely stories Harry told him to cheer him up, Shard would just hover darkly in the back of Harry's mind, thinking of bleak orphanages, violent beatings, and angry flashes of green light. Today, he was musing on the boy named Tom again, the orphan with rain-grey eyes and dark curls who performed magic in secret. The boy was angry, and Shard thought of him doing terrible things to the other children in the orphanage.

Harry didn't think it was a very good story.

I've got a better story, he told Shard in his mind. One night, the grey-eyed boy is standing by his open bedroom window at the orphanage, looking out at the moon-silvered garden, and he senses something stirring nearby. He feels a sudden rush of wind, and then he sees a great silver dragon hovering in the darkened air outside his window. The dragon speaks to him, and its voice is as deep as the night itself, and as vast and soothing as the moonlight. Climb up on my back, it says, and I will show you all the wonders of the world.

But Shard just sulked and said that nothing like this could ever happen. It's just a silly story, and he doesn't want to think about imaginary silver dragons.

But the dragon is beautiful, thought Harry, in the great breathless way in which storms are beautiful, and the roars of waterfalls. When the grey-eyed boy first climbs up on its back, he expects the scales to be hard, like metal, but they are soft and strong like holly branches under his hands.

Or yew branches, thought Shard, half interested now.

The scales are just like yew branches, agreed Harry. Immensely ancient, with that faint cold scent about them that yew trees have. And then the dragon lifts off, and it carries to boy into the night, and the boy can feel the rush of wind through his hair. He knows in his heart that the dragon will be his best and truest friend in the world, and that they will have all sorts of wondrous adventures together.

It's a stupid story, thought Shard moodily. Whoever heard of being friends with silver dragons? Snakes are better. They just do what you command them to do and don't carry you off anywhere.

Shard adored serpents, and speaking Snake seemed to come naturally to him. Shard was terribly clever with languages, and he often muttered phrases and curses in strange intricate tongues to himself in Harry's mind. But Snake was the only useful language he knew well, apart from regular human speech. Harry sometimes tried to teach Shard some of the other forms of speech he was learning from Leaf, but Shard was a bad listener. He didn't want to learn any Stag or Wolf or any of the Bird dialects, and he just scoffed at the idea of learning Tree. It was a good thing the trees couldn't hear what he was muttering about them inside Harry's head, for Harry knew that some of them got easily offended, like the willows.

"Harry! There you are!" Leaf came dashing through the undergrowth of the forest, closely followed by Twig. Leaf was waving a strange rectangular piece of parchment in his hand. "Look at this! A large barn owl who introduced himself as Hooo landed next to me when I was fishing by the stream, and he said that he had a letter for Harry Potter. He told me who it was from, but the name was so long it makes my head hurt just to think about it."

"An envelope!" Harry reached eagerly for the bone-white rectangle. "I've read about those! There are stories about them in some of the books in your library, Leaf. Apparently, people put their letters inside envelopes if they want to make sure that no one will see their messages except the ones they are meant for. Shard got a letter in an envelope once, too, and he was terribly excited about it." Harry turned the parchment over in his hand. The envelope had writing in Human on it: To Mr. Harry Potter, Rebel Fairy Hideout, The Wild Woods. Harry opened the flap of the envelope carefully and peered inside. Yes, there was a letter! How exciting!

He unfolded the letter, and Leaf and Twig leaned curiously over his shoulder. They were just the same height as Harry now, as long as he was sitting down and they were standing. Twig squinted. "These letter are very curly," he complained. "I don't know if we will be able to read this."

"Harry can," said Leaf immediately, the pride shining through in his voice. "I've taught him Human very carefully, both the tongue and the script. This is just a very fancy version of the writing."

Twig shook his head slowly. "Humans! They had a perfectly good script - remember the runes, so nice and plain? - and then they had to go and put all these little loops and twists in. Looks like fern fronds run wild."

Leaf shushed him. "Let him read! Tell us, Harry - what does it say?"

Harry cleared his throat and read slowly:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Leaf and Twig fell silent.

"Maybe it's written in one of those lost human tongues," said Leaf finally, scratching his head. "Atlantean, maybe? Try further down - I see a bit in regular Human speech down there."

Harry read on:

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress

Harry stared at the letter. He could feel his heart beating faster. "Wait, so this means... I'm going to school? With the humans?"

Leaf thumped him on the back. "Very clever, Harry! I told you, didn't I, Twig, that he knows almost everything by now? Can you imagine - only eleven seasons old, and he can already make sense of a letter like that, with all those long words!"

"But... But that means he will leave us, doesn't it?" There was a slight trembling in Twig's voice.

"Oh." Leaf fell suddenly silent as the message of the letter began to sink in. After a long while, he said: "Well, it would be rude to turn down their invitation, wouldn't it? They would think that Harry had no manners at all, if he didn't go... Although I suppose we can send a message back saying that he has a cold and can't come."

Harry thought about it for a long time. He could sense Leaf and Twig holding their breaths. Finally, he said: "Well, I think I should like to go, at least for a while. I have always wondered what schools are like. I have read about them, of course, but I don't know if they are all the same. They teach you all sorts of things there, it seems, and you make new friends, and then you get to return to your family when the term is over. Perhaps I will go for a while and see what it's like. If it's all right with you, of course. Wait, are you crying, Leaf?"

"Certainly not," muttered Leaf indistinctly, wiping his face quickly on a fern. "I think it sounds like a splendid adventure. Perhaps you can take Wolf with you, just for company?"

Harry scanned the second page of the letter. "No, I don't think so. It says you can bring an owl or a cat or a toad."

"Well, what if you don't know an owl or a cat or a toad who wants to go?" Twig frowned.

"It's all right," said Harry soothingly. "I'll go and ask the snowy owls who live in the old fir tree if one of them wants to come. We are great friends. Their youngest daughter is quite adventurous; she often talks about traveling and seeing the world."

He glanced further down the page. "Hm. There is a whole list of things they want me to bring. All sorts of books - we will have to go to where the Humans live to get those - and black robes and a hat."

"Black robes?" Twig shook his head slightly. "For a child? Humans have funny tastes, don't they? I suppose you are allowed to bring some of your nice white and green wool clothes as well?"

"I hope so," said Harry. "Oh, and I will need to bring a pewter cauldron - that's probably for cooking my food. And a... wand? What's that?"

"Oh, I've heard of those!" Leaf lit up. "It's just a stick. Human wizards use them when they do magic."

"Why?"

"Well..." Leaf thought for a moment. Then he shook his head. "I forget exactly why. But the human wizards like waving sticks around. You have to be very careful around them, though - you don't want to take your eye out with one of those things. They can be very pointy."

Harry looked around at the tall trees that surrounded them. "What sort of stick should I bring? They are all so lovely."

"I saw a young human wizard once," put in Twig helpfully. "He was swinging a dead blackthorn stick."

"A dead stick?" Harry felt puzzled. "Why would anyone want to use a dead one? Surely, it will be much nicer to have a twig with life sap in it. I think I'll ask the holly for one of her branches; she is a good friend of mine."

"So you speak Tree fluently now?" Twig nodded approvingly. "You have taught him well, Leaf. They will be very pleased with him at this school."

Leaf smiled and flushed. "Oh, I can't take credit for that. Harry is a natural when it comes to languages. Particularly Snake, of course - that speech just seems to come so easily to him - but he can speak the tongues of most of the other animals and birds by now. He even speaks Tree, which is much more difficult for humans, with just the slightest trace of an accent..."

Twig stood still, lost in thought. Then he said: "What about Shard, Harry?"

Harry smiled. "He will come too, of course! Maybe a new place will be good for him; he's been so restless lately. Poor Shard; I feel so bad for him sometimes. It can't be easy, being caught inside someone else's mind like that. Last night, he had a bad dream about a boy growing up and killing his own father with a yew stick. When he woke up, his mind was filled with darkness, and he didn't feel better until I told him the story about the boy who fell in love with the morning star."

"That's a lovely story," said Leaf softly. "It always makes me cry. Did Shard cry at all when you told it to him?"

Harry thought about it. "Maybe a little, at the very end. It's sometimes hard to tell with him. Maybe the crying part of him is broken. I could feel something stirring in him, though, as we got to the part about the morning star's song, a sort of sadness and happiness intertwined."

Leaf looked at Harry with earnest black eyes. "Listen, Harry, if you ever get weary of having Shard in your mind, you know that Twig and I can try to get him out..."

But Harry shook his head firmly. "Thank you, Leaf. But I can't bear the idea of being separated from Shard. He is mine, and I love him, even if he's a little difficult sometimes. And I do think that he loves me too, except that he doesn't really know anything about love."

Leaf looked at him for a long time. "I suppose you will just have to tell him the story about the boy and the morning star over and over until he understands it."

Harry nodded slowly. He didn't want to tell Leaf this, but sometimes he was worried that poor Shard was too broken to understand that story.

...

Harry blinked quickly and glanced around King's Cross Station. Walking down the platform at the train station was like bring caught up in the great rush of migrating birds in the autumn. Humans swirled all around him, laughing and shouting, and he clutched the school trunk full of supplies that Leaf and Twig had managed to provide for him. Apparently, they knew a nice goblin who was willing to bring them all sorts of wonderful books and vials and cauldrons in exchange for a few handfuls of diamonds.

Wooo, the youngest of the snowy owls from the fir tree, had come along with him, and she now sat perched on top of his head. They had studied the text books together as soon as the goblin brought them, and Wooo had taken a great fancy to one of the names from The History of Magic. She insisted that she wanted to go by "Hedwig" from now on, and Harry was happy to oblige.

Leaf and Twig and Wolf had wisely decided not to follow Harry and Hedwig further than the station gate, and Harry immediately realized that this was a wise choice: Leaf and Twig would have been trampled in the crowd. Harry pulled out the small piece of paper they had given him. "Platform 9 3/4" it said. Now, where would that be?

"Do you need help, dear?" A large human woman with a soft voice paused by Harry's side. Several children of assorted sizes trailed after her. Harry knew at once that they must be wizards. They all had red hair and smiling eyes, and Harry took an immediate liking to them.

"I'm looking for platform 9 3/4," he said. "Do you mind if I follow you?"

The woman beamed at him. "Of course, dear! Are you on your own, then? Not to worry, just follow us. Merlin's beard!" She suddenly leaned forward and looked more closely at Harry. Her kind brown eyes widened. "How remarkable! You look just like poor James Potter! Except for your eyes... Oh, mercy me, I swear you have Lily's eyes! How is this possible? What is your name, dear?"

Harry stretched out his hand in greeting, like Leaf has shown him, and said: "My name is Harry Potter. I am very pleased to meet you."

The woman stifled a scream, and she stared at him as if he were a ghost. "Harry... Potter?" Her voice sank to a whisper. "But that's not possible... Harry Potter is dead. But good gracious me, you are about the right age... I remember thinking, when I heard that James and Lily had a son, that he would go to school with my Ron..."

She stood quite still for a moment, irresolute. Then she reached forward, slowly, and brushed Harry's unruly hair away from his forehead. She stiffened as her eyes fell on his scar.

"The scar..." Her voice was still a whisper. "Hagrid said there was a scar, a curious one, shaped like a bolt of lightning. He saw it when he lifted the baby out of the ruined house, before that fateful journey through the night sky."

Suddenly, the woman flung her arms around Harry. "Oh, you poor child! You are alive, after all! You poor, poor child!"

Harry could sense the bewildered glanced of the red-haired children lingering on him.

"Who is this boy, Mum?" said one of them. "Where do you know him from?"

But the smallest one, a little girl, appeared to catch on more quickly than the others. "He's Harry Potter?" she whispered. "The one from the stories?"

The woman nodded eagerly. "Yes, he's Harry Potter. I can see it now. We must let Minerva and Albus and the others know that he's here, that he's alive." She glanced down the platform and caught sight of some figures a little distance away and raised her voice. "Minerva! Severus! Hagrid! And Professor... Oh, I forget his name. You have to come here at once!"

Three human wizards and a gigantic man hurried towards them.

"What is it, Molly? Is something wrong?" asked one of the wizards, an elderly lady, quickly.

"Wrong? No, quite the contrary!" The woman called Molly sounded breathless. "Look at this child! Just look at him! Can you see who he is? This is Harry Potter, James and Lily's son! He is alive after all!"

The four new arrivals stared at Harry for a moment. Then one of them, a pale man with night-black hair, whispered: "Oh, Merlin. He has Lily's eyes..." He reached out and touched Harry's cheek, hesitantly. "Is this possible? Lily's child is alive?"

"He looks like James," said the elderly lady in a trembling voice.

"Unfortunately." The pale man's voice grew colder for a moment. "But still: Lily's eyes. Something of her that survived after all..."

"Little Harry?" The giant sank to his knees and wrapped his arms around Harry in a much too tight hug. Tears were streaming down his large bearded face now. "But I dropped yeh! I killed yeh!"

"Apparently not, Mr. Hagrid." The elderly lady smiled slightly. "It is Harry! I was startled when his name showed up in the magical school records, and I sent the letter off, as I always do, but never in my wildest imagination did I dare to hope..." She patted Harry quicky and awkwardly on the head, and Hedwig gave her hand an affectionate peck.

"Harry P..Potter?" The last wizard had drawn closer now, and he was looking at Harry in the most curious way. He was a timid-looking young man with an elaborate turban wrapped around his head.

Harry looked at him for a long moment, and something seemed to stir in his heart. Something about this shy young wizard seemed terribly familiar...