A/N: I know, I'm not a good person. Because all you get is more snippets. Better than nothing, riiiight? (No, not really.) Thanks for the lovely responses! I really want all my inspiration to flow into this, because I myself am super-interested to find where I'm going... e-heh, I'm one of those "no-plan" authors. Yeaaah... this can't turn out bad at all!
"Lovely Lily," he murmured, tipping his head to the sky. "That's what Slughorn called her. Brilliant, he said- and certainly beautiful. Lupin insists I resemble her, but I wonder how that is. For most of my life I thought her a drunken harlot, and perhaps hoped her a freak like me, but then… does it really matter at all?"
Harry had never known Lily Potter, or Evans for that matter. His view of her was abstract, warped through varying perspectives and prejudices, limited by the disparagement given to those who spoke ill of the dead. Yes, she had loved Harry, had given her very life so he might live, but even the mafia were of a like mind when it came to their young. It was often put down to pure instinct, and so how could Harry judge her by a single act? Better yet, did he have the right to judge her at all?
The child heaved a sigh, shaking his head as if to dispel lingering thoughts, and turned from the thestrals. Quickly, Voldemort slunk further into the shadows, but it seemed not matter, as iridescent green eyes immediately caught on his, pinning him in place. The boy frowned and crouched to the forest floor, eyeing his rigid form speculatively.
"Well aren't you a beauty?" he murmured, delicately wiping blood-stained hands down his robes. "I'm afraid I don't have any more raw meat, but I'll bring some extra next time if you'd like."
"You're back," Harry murmured, pleasantly surprised to spot the feline lurking just outside of the clearing. It was odd to have spotted him at all, cloaked by the shadows as he was, but Harry chalked it up to the creature's luminescent eyes and alertness bred into him from fifteen years with the Dursley's.
"Quite striking, aren't you?" he murmured, ducking down until he was level with the unblinking feline. Thick tawny fur was streaked longitudinally by rows of black rosettes. Large mahogany eyes glinted amber in the moonlight, fixed decisively on his own. It struck Harry quite suddenly that the feline was likely in fight or flight mode - he was, after all, intruding upon the territory of all who roamed this forest. Aside a stern encounter with a centaur that preached of boundaries and Mars' wrath, Harry had been left relatively alone in the thestrals domain. They were gentle creatures, really, and eagerly accepted his weekly offerings. Moreover, they were unlikely to fret over any who wished to roam their forest paths. Perhaps he was unknowingly treading upon this feline's grounds as much as the thestrals.
"I don't mean to intrude upon your domain," he soothed gently, placing the slab of meat on a nearby stump. "Here you are."
Harry turned his back on it, walking back towards the chuffing thestrals and making a point to ignore the presence behind him.
And so Harry went again, and again, and again. Night after night he kept the margay company, occasionally voicing his idle musings, but mostly just taking comfort in the others presence. Slowly, Perses grew comfortable enough to allow Harry's petting.
Harry wasn't a tactile person by any means- in fact, he normally flinched from contact, a remnant from his less-than-idyllic childhood- but he had a rather extreme weakness for cute, intelligent animals, and so naturally he caught himself reaching out to stroke Perses more than once, only to be warned off by a growl. He always looked to his hand in surprise, curious as to how it had yet again wandered without his realizing. Something drew Harry to the spotted feline: made him want to stroke down his spine, nuzzle his groomed pelt, massage behind his ears until he was left a boneless, purring mess. Of course, this wasn't a legitimate option unless he wanted his fingers bitten off.
If the cat wasn't stupidly adorable than Harry would probably be fine, but he did these little gestures, just as endearing as they were unnervingly human
Harry blinked his eyes open, surprised. "That's weird," he murmured, gently stroking down Voldemort's spine. "I've only ever talked to Hedwig like this. Something about you- it's soothing."
Harry smiled mirthlessly, eyes gleaming in the starlight. "Apparently I'm so weak as to hoist my adolescent issues onto the remarkably intelligent animals around me. Would this be considered self-pity or teen angst? Merlin, how pathetic."
"Sekhet?"
Finally, after well over two dozen suggestions, the Margay tilted it's head consideringly.
And then shook it.
Harry groaned despondently, far too tired for this sort of human cruelty. Really, the deceptively charming nuisance was worse than Voldemort tangoing with Molly Weasley… and why, oh why did his brain always do this to him when he was tired? Now he would have to live with that image. Also, his silence had apparently offended the demented feline somehow, as it was bristling indignantly, despite Harry not having said another common name - fifteen minutes prior, a listless 'Tom' had nearly gotten one of his fingers bitten off.
"Perses," he enunciated miserably, and again, the Margay's head angled to the right.
Perking up, Harry pounced on the opportunity before yet another name could be dismissed; "Father of Hecate, the goddess of witchcraft, magic, and wilderness, Perses was said to be the Titan god of destruction, bearing an heir favored by Magic itself."
The animal eyed Luna consideringly from the edge of the clearing, but obediently came when Harry stretched his arms out expectantly.
"This is him," he informed, green eyes large and earnest as they turned to peer up at his friend.
Luna nodded thoughtfully, silver eyes tracking Voldemort's progression with a certain intensity Harry had never before seen the Ravenclaw display.
He stopped a near meter away, settling on his haunches and tilting his head curiously to Luna.
"This is Luna Lovegood," Harry explained, settling down on his usual stump. "She comes out some weekends to feed the thestrals.
(space)
"You're getting on quite well, considering," Luna praised, idly stroking his hair as Perses stiffened in his arms.
For once he seemed to be feeling the boy's emotions with a startling clarity,
The boy looked up to reveal clean lines streaked down an otherwise filthy face and sniffled, quickly averting water sheened eyes and scrubbing away the evidence of his perceived weakness. Shame licked down the bond like white hot flames, and it was a marvel in and of itself that Potter could feel so strongly at being caught in the act by an animal, of all things. 'Even one as majestic and intelligent as Lord Voldemort,' he added silently.
"Thank you," Harry whispered hoarsely,
The boy glided into the clearing with all the poise of a seasoned killer, muscles coiling tighter with every step. Indifference masked dainty features, emotive green eyes, for once, dark and fathomless. The transformation was inexplicable in every sense of the word. Sure, Voldemort could channel Tom Riddle, but Tom was but another facet of his personality. In what world was this dark-eyed, exquisitely powerful creature Harry Potter?
Harry Potter was nothing like Tom expected. Despite his mercurial moods and increasingly frequent outbursts of pent up aggression, the child was more mature and emotionally adept than Tom had been at sixteen.
Harry was highly tactile, perhaps compensating from lack of human contact by being overly affectionate towards creatures less likely to betray him.
Harry laughed brittley, "It's actually rather funny, in a manner of speaking. So long as I live, he's impervious to death."