Summary: A gift from Sirius at end of Year 3 causes Harry to learn about darkness of Marauders and more importantly of his parents. Now follow Harry as he struggles with Academics, Love, Lust, Dark Wizards and his ever growing addiction to Dark Arts. Reasonably Strong Dark Arts Harry! No slash! Alive Sirius! Neutral Dumbledore! Ratings will go up for violent and sexual themes.
Pairing: Harry Potter x Fleur x Tonks
Secondary pairings up to readers.
Authors- Atlanrom (5161800)
SevenKings (5682997)
Disclaimer: Listen well and listen all, we own Jackshit. Meaning no property of J.K. Rowlings, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books or Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Fuck Atlanrom can't even afford the fucking gasoline for his tank.( SK: I'm too poor to own my own apartment, that should give you an idea of how much I mooch off of others. At least, I help in keeping the place clean ;P)
Chapter Two: Twists of Life
Friday
17th of June, 1994
Waking up is such a ...bother, Harry Potter lethargically concluded, effectively gaining one of the most important piece of wisdom that any teenager of his age could hope to attain.
If Harry had his way, he would sleep for a day or two more but unfortunately there is only so much sleep one could hope to catch before the mind dragged itself out of merciful realm of Morpheus. Still waking up at late in morning was a blessing.
Realizing that he had in fact woke up with a full bladder; Harry gave up the comfort of the soft and seemingly brand new mattress in favour of putting his two feet on the marble floor of the house.
The coldness of the marble sent pleasant shiver up his spine.
Harry treaded towards his destination taking a light notice of the things that he had not bothered to take note of last night. The darkness of night had effectively made him blind to the surprisingly tasteful dark blue colour of the room. It was a nice change from the awfully bright red and golden colours of the dorms belonging to the house of one Godric Gryffindor.
The colours of the dorms were nice but too annoying for a brain that has not yet woken up completely.
The corridor had walls of white with enchanting carvings and various forms of art done on them complete with hangings of painting both of Muggle and Wizardry in origins. Most probably his mother was responsible for them given the thoughtful organization of the decorations. If anything that his living in boy dorms had taught him, it was that most men sucked at organization. Hermione certainly thought so, Harry pondered thoughtfully. Or perhaps it was her prolonged interactions Ron that had coloured her opinion of men?
Certainly worth pondering over, Harry made a mental note to think it thoroughly over when he had free time. He would have done so now but it was getting progressively harder with his bladder revolting against Harry's considerable mental fortitude.
"Ahhh!" Harry moaned out. If there was any other feeling that compared remotely to relieving a full bladder in morning, then by god he would be damned.
He could immerse himself in books again but frankly speaking, Harry felt that it could wait. He had spent a great deal of time yesterday on books and surely he was allowed a measure of time for relaxation. He was on a fucking vacation for crying out loud out. What kind of 14 year old with an active social life would be obsessed with books? Books were nice and all but there was a limit. Studying too much on a vacation without reason clearly crossed the limit.
Yes, taking a break couldn't do any harm. But what to do here? He could go back to sleep but he didn't felt any need to sleep despite the bed being a hundred times better than the 6 year old mattress in Privet Drive.
That caused his thoughts to come to Privet Drive and then to everything he had left there. His relatives, his books, his homework, his broom, his owl...
"SHIT!" Harry cursed. Hedwig would kill him!
...
Packing a book about blood wards that he hoped to study in Privet Drive, Harry took an enchanted moleskin pouch that he had purchased last summer. He absent mindedly wondered why Hagrid hadn't recommended so many useful things he had found in the Wizardry Day to Day store. Instantly, Harry got rid of that thought thinking that Hagrid was probably being daft as usual.
It was this attitude that had caused Sorting Hat to almost put him in Slytherin.
Harry Potter was suffering from a strange form of Bipolar Disorder.
Perhaps, It had been due to the drastic changes in his social status at age of eight. Earlier, he had been the social pariah and an abnormality with characteristics of a criminal that people shouldn't align with. Teachers ignored him. Children shied away from him.
Then suddenly everyone was on his feet. Teachers gave him a certain "favours" like offers of free tutoring, "grace marks", and altered assignments for homework that had "coincidentally" the same questions as questions asked in exam days later. After all, He was the genius child. He was the only boy without cooties, or so one of his newer female "friend" Amy had told him.
The mind of even an adult is not capable of bearing a sudden shift let alone a child's. As a mechanism of primitive Harry's true personality to hide beneath a mask of lies.
Perhaps, it was a side effect of Harry's "genius". Power never comes free, does it? Harry did not know.
Anyways, Either of the factors had caused Harry's personality to take a seemingly dual nature.
Harry Potter at first glance was seemingly the nice and well mannered boy that was great in academics. He talked politely and happily to everyone no matter their social standing. A boy who couldn't talk without the magical words "Please" and "Thank you".
A boy that in reality didn't exist.
Most people would be horrified to realise the real Harry was in reality, a foul mouthed brat who couldn't talk without cursing so much that it would cause most people to blush bright red and purple. He was also arrogant in amounts that the entire fucking Malfoy bloodline couldn't compete.
It all left the question of why this side of Harry never really manifested itself during first three years.
It was because the truly defining characteristic of the actual Harry Potter was his cunning as a fox nature. Learning the truth about the accursed world so early had caused Harry to always work in a certain way. The way was that he as long as he was performing as he was expected, certain advantages followed.
As long as he caught the snitch, Oliver couldn't care if he showed up for practice.
Harry was winning all the Quidditch matches so surely he could be allowed an exemption of a Transfiguration assignment.
Harry is good enough in practical sessions, so surely he could be allowed to skip a session of charms or two.
Weirdly, the only person who seemed to see through him was Snape. Sometimes it was almost as if the bastard could read his mind.
Flashback
Period - 1
Friday
Day 5 of Year I of School of Hogwarts
Harry entered class with the other Gryffindors. The classroom was located in the dungeons. It was dark, dank, and there was a cold draft blowing in from somewhere.
The room smelled of fumes, almost clogging the senses. Everywhere Harry looked he could see shelves upon shelves lined with potions ingredients. Some he recognized, most he didn't.
Harry sat at an unremarkable corner of the group of Gryffindors. At first he had considered sitting in the front like he usually did, but after hearing about how the Potions professor was rumoured to behave, had decided that it may be safer to sit somewhere inconspicuous.
A little while after everyone had entered and got seated, the potions Professor swept into the room, his robes billowing out behind him, making him look like some kind of oversized bat.
Severus Snape was a very pale man with a long, hooked nose and shallow black eyes. His hair hung around his face and was incredibly greasy.
Class started.
Severus Snape took roll. Like Professor Flitwick, he stopped at Harry's name.
Unlike Professor Flitwick, he did not seem very excited.
"Ah, yes, Mr. Potter," he said softly, with that mocking, condescending tone. "Our new – celebrity."
Now, what crawled up his ass and died? Harry's mind wondered instantly. His mind was so used to adding suitable suffixes that Harry no longer had control over it.
Snape twitched and his eyes tightened but almost as if struggling, Snape continued.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. His voice was barely above a whisper, yet everyone in the class could hear him and watched on with bated breath. Harry had to give the man credit, he knew how to captivate an audience, even if he didn't care about looking more professional. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stop to death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
"Potter!" said Snape suddenly, causing nearly half the class to jump.
"What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Hermione's hand shot into the air while Harry stiffened in his seat slightly, but quickly relaxed and answered the question. "You would get a powerful sleeping potion known as Draught of the Living Death, which is said to be so powerful it makes the person who drank it seem as if they are dead."
'Take that cocksucker!' Harry's mind crooned.
"A lucky guess," Snape sneered. His eyes were twitching uncontrollably. Bloody foul mouthed spawn of James Potter!
Harry's hand became fists and middle fingers extended themselves automatically. "Very well then, answer me this. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezaor?"
"In the stomach of a goat, sir," Harry answered as Hermione's hand began to tremble in the air. It went ignored. "It's a stone-like object that is capable of curing most poisons, and is used in the preparation of many common antidotes."
"Additionally, it can be found shoved up your ass, you greasy fatherfucking piece of shit!" An image of Snape being rammed up by his father and moaning "Daddy!" manifested in mind of the foul minded genius of brat that was Harry Potter.
"What is the difference, Potter, between Monkshood and Wolvesbane?" Snape was becoming more and more apocalyptic with rage. As a master Legimens, he could pick up stray thoughts and while there were the occasional shit thrown his way, this brat blew everything out of the fucking water!
"There is no difference, sir," once again Harry answered the question as Hermione's hand began to wave in the air. She was beginning to look angry. "It's the same plant, and is one of the key ingredients in the Wolfsbane potion that was created to relieve the strain of Lycanthropy during the full moon and allows the werewolf who drinks it to retain their humanity during the transformation. Wolfsbane also goes by the name Aconite by muggle botanists."
"Since you clearly don't know the answers", Harry's mind broadcasted (unaware of the audience), "Take up the first year book and shove it up your ass! FUCKING VAMPIRE!"
Snape started frothing with uncontrollable rage.
Flashback ends
Never understood that one son of a bitch. Harry's mind concluded effectively ending his ponderings. Harry approached the Portkey that would take him back to Privet Drive. God, he hated portkeys.
Fucking Snape and Fucking Portkeys.
...
Amber eyes filled with rage met Harry as soon as he entered his room.
Emerald eyes filled with fear watched as they watched his snowy companion.
Anyone watching the scenario would be reminded of scene of a lion stalking a gazelle.
"Prek." Hedwig hooted venomously.
Harry nearly shat his pants while wondering how an owl could be venomous.
In the end, it took him bags of owl treats, a promise of new stand and cage to delay the storm of Hedwig's fury. That was in addition to various nicks to hands and earlobes he ended up getting.
Hedwig was a most peculiar owl. Her emotional depth was unnatural. Harry wondered if she was his familiar because most owls didn't had any particular resemblance of intelligence to them. Hedwig on the other hand was easily able to negotiate with him almost as if equal. Hell, Hedwig seemed more intelligent than Ron, most of the time. Even Hermione didn't seem to have the emotional depth that Hedwig seemed to possess. But, it could be the fact that Hedwig was his most faithful friend that was coloring his opinion. Additionally, there was the fact that there was this sense he had of Hedwig...
Episkey. Harry incanted pointing his wand at his wounds absent mindedly, the trace removed courtesy of the book 50 spells that the Minister doesn't wants you to know.
The book was one of the lighter compilations of banned spells like unregulated Portkey creation, Anti-Apparition jinks. Anti-Apparition counter jinks and a lot more. A book that was forbidden well over a century ago. For a very good reason.
The other spells were very hard and Harry had not even started his work on them. The trace was something Harry had been trying to overcome for a long time and as a result Harry had deemed it fit to spend close to 6 hours to learn the spell.
Proficiency wasn't required in this spell since he had to only do it once. Using the charm graph and arithmantical tabulations had helped but still it wasted close to a quarter of his day. Worth it anyway.
Pack
Harry swirled his wand around the room, incanting his wand, verbalising the words and finishing the movement with a jab at the moleskin package.
50 spells that every teen should know, despite the name, the book was the counterpart of the book from which he took the trace removal spell. Most of spells in this book were ridiculously easy as they were household charms that created for teenagers' use.
They were so easy that Harry was sure that despite only reading through them once any First year could perform at least first six of them. Harry boasted that he could actually master at least thirty-two. The pack spell was one of the most useful spell he had ever came across to use in day to day life.
When he didn't get any warning owls confirming that the trace was of Harry decided to groom himself in lieu of not having taken a bath despite it being close to three in the afternoon. Obviously, it was an excuse because there were many more spells in the grooming category that Harry decided to try out. He pointed the wand at his bare neck.
Bathis
He no longer needed to take a bath today. The bathing spell was great in lack of water but it was not as satisfying as a shower or bathtub. Pointing his wand at his mouth, Harry incanted.
Ivoris Clens Scalsis
His mouth cleaned up and smelled like mint. Additionally any residual plaque on his teeth was instantly removed, while simultaneously removing any yellowing or decolouration they may have giving him a pearly smile. He pointed his wand at his face.
Cologne Aurara
Pimplis Reductis
His face effectively rid of any acne he may have and smelling of decent cologne, Harry picked up the moleskin pouch that contained everything that belonged to him.
Now for the blood wards, Harry took out a purple stone, a book and a set of glasses from his pouch. Time for some study
Harry was on his bed studying the book he found that was titled, "Blood Wards and Their Effects" when he heard a knock on his door. That was already strange by itself since no one knocks on his door at nighttimes. Since he wasn't making any further progress in the study of wards, he decided to continue it tomorrow.
Hopefully, if what he was reading was correct then he could transfer the blood wards to the ward anchor stone by the end of the next week.
Curious about what's happening, he opened the door to reveal Vernon Dursley. Stranger things keep happening since only Petunia knocked on his door. Harry asked, "What do you want, Uncle?"
Vernon made a constipated face before he replied, "Look, Harry, why don't you be a good nephew and help me with something?"
Harry goggled at that. Amazing was the power of being a celebrity. His uncle in his first eight years of stay wouldn't have even imagined calling the "freak" "boy" of nephew by his name. Anyways, it was very suspicious but Harry decided to hear it out since the relation he had with his uncle was very delicate.
Vernon said, "There are these two girls who are sisters. But they only go double dates and Dudley needs another man with him."
Harry was stunned. Him? Date? With girls? Suspicion reared his head. Harry was unconvinced that Dudley would ask him to go on a double date, "What's the catch?"
"No catch, he needs a wingman and you're the only one available."
Obviously, that caused Harry's paranoia meter to crank up to Level Alastor Moody. No really, Alastor Moody actually has a paranoia level created and named after him by Britain's Ministry of Magic that went active after the 'Birthday Party Incident' which was recorded as 'only the most paranoid would do this'. Basically, Moody thought a gift was basilisk egg. Never mind the fact that there are no basilisk eggs since they are just eggs hatched under a toad. Still it was hilarious enough to feature on Playwizard magazine. Not that Harry owned one. It was Ron.
As far as Alastor was concerned, he merely rolled his eye. His real one. Not the mechanical one. The mechanical one keeps on rolling all the time, anyways. That is one hell of an eye roll, now that I think about it.
"What's the name of girls?" Harry asked, wondering about what the hell was going on.
"Jennifer and Gwendolyn."
Instantly, suspicion slammed down as Harry instantly realized what was going on.
Gwendolyn Green was a nerdy girl at 13 and close to age of Dursley. She was one of those bespectacled girls who were nerdy and bookworm to boot. With dirty brown hairs and a problem with acne in conjunction with a horrible fashion and hygiene, it wasn't a wonder that most guys didn't try to woo her.
On the other hand, Jennifer Green was a busty girl of 16 with curves in all the right places. Washed golden blonde hair till waist, intellectual, smart and ALWAYS a brilliant sense of fashion, trend and humour. Add in the fact that she was always slamming down guys left and right , which had given her the title of untouchable, she was a definitely a ten on ten girl.
It was pretty obvious to anyone with two brain cells to rub together on what was going on.
The elder sister was trying to help her little sister get some dating experience and probably some confidence in her body as well. Probably Jennifer had resigned herself to tagging along as a sort of chore.
Dudley would probably be aiming at Jennifer while leaving Gwen to his nerdy cousin. And most probably Vernon as well as Petunia knew about it.
"I assume that Gwen would be looking up for some good time?" Harry asked politely.
Vernon nodded.
"I hope Dudley will enjoy with Jennifer. She is too old for me you know." Harry solemnly commented causing Vernon give him a goofy grin.
"Oh he will." Vernon said imagining his son showing the beauty around the town.
Not on my watch, Shithead. "Inner" Harry rebuked.
Not on my watch.
However, within seconds of dismissing his uncle, the heir of the Potter fortune came across a deadly disease that currently plagued nearly half of humanity.
He knew Jackshit about women.
While Harry certainly knew that what not to do on a date, he didn't knew what to do.
For example, he knew that you don't take women on date to a seedy place but he didn't know where to take them, like a park or a restaurant or a cinema.
It was all too damn confusing. Add in the fact that time is a factor too. Like a morning in park and evening in cinema or the reverse?
Additionally, women are really freaky on the whole conversation thing. Women seem to think that men should just pick up on the whole conversation by some god given instinct or something.
It all started for him when Hermione ripped him a new one for being an inconsiderate jerk. (Meaning being unable to read her body language, infer out that she's distressed over examinations, unable to being active enough to compile her work for her and all that without a goddamn verbal request!)
Harry had come to the most important conclusion of his short life.
There is a fundamental difference in men and women!
And he's not talking about the whole reproductive thing and all. He had already discovered that after his post victory celebrations against snakes in third year.
Flashback
Harry Potter aged 13 years was in heaven without doing the total getting killed thing. He knew that as the pile driver against the snakes he would have gotten the reward but this?!
"You know Katie, this whole Gryffindor-Slytherin bullshit may not be such a bad thing, after all." Harry lazily commented, his inner side coming out under the intense "ministrations" of one fourteen year old Katie Bell.
Fortunately/Unfortunately, for the Boy-Who-Lived, the chaser of the Quidditch team had quite a full mouth that she could only swirl her tongue in reply.
Harry moaned.
Life was good for Harry Potter.
Flashback Ends
Harry snapped out of the memory, trying to focus on current problem and not the fact that he suddenly was able to form a corporeal Patronus the very next day. Still, it was a testament to how daft the wizards were that Lupin believed the bullshit that Harry shoved him.
The sound of his mother dying powering his Patronus?! Are you fucking kidding me or what?!
It was the mention of Lupin that perked up Harry's attention. Lupin was a marauder and although a fairly useless one considering the fact that he didn't even bother with visiting Harry, he was a marauder. A marauder like...
Harry Potter waved his wand and casted, focussing on his post-victory celebration with Katie Bell.
Expecto Patronum
It was the most peculiar feeling to be truthful. The feeling of creating and forming a patronus. In most spells there were only three components generally. Forming a spell construct/matrix, filling the construct with magical energy and finishing the process by releasing the spell.
As far as the patronus charm was concerned, there was an additional element. Simultaneously with forming the spell construct, you need to conjure a happy memory, add it to your magical energy and then add this mixture to a perfectly formed spell construct. Lupin had told him that this was the difference in light/dark magics as compared to normal grey magics.
The peculiarity this time was that the spell was trying to tell him something. Harry didn't knew it but it was like how a car/bike with a transmission told a driver that the transmission needed to changed to higher or lower value.
The spell, Harry inferred, was trying to tell him that he didn't need to add his memory this time. Harry ignored the feeling in haste.
The result was spectacular.
Prongs the stag, was the patronus of one Harry Potter. Being a patronus meant that it was a luminous being capable of dimly lighting a darkened alley. But now it was blindingly luminous.
And Harry hadn't even finished the spell!
Harry could feel the spell constantly drawing on his magical core. The spell drew a thrice of the energy needed to charge a level-5 patronus before allowing the entire spell matrix to be completely filled and allowing Harry to release it. Harry hastily released.
In an instant Harry Potter collapsed on the floor. But he didn't notice. He didn't notice the hard floor which he had collapsed upon. He didn't notice that he had dropped the wand that rolled away from him, still hot from not being used to channelling so much magic.
The reason he didn't noticed was completely valid for once. Where should have been prongs there wasn't. There wasn't even a stag or any normal animal instead.
There floating in the air was a luminous, white and glorious...
...Dementor.
"I don't get paid enough for this shit." Harry spoke out loud ignoring the fact that he wasn't paid at all.
Life suddenly wasn't so good anymore.
"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!" An enraged Sirius Black apparated at the privet drive and bellowed at the fourteen year old, not even a minute after Harry had sent his "patronus" to send the message.
"That was a prank." Harry hesitantly offered the best excuse he could came up with, having foreseen a reaction like this.
"A...prank?" The Azkaban escapee asked slowly as if he couldn't believe/process what he was hearing.
Harry mutely nodded.
"Oh in this case it is all right." Sirius said and smiled brightly.
Now it was Harry's turned to be the one who couldn't believe/process what he was hearing.
"Really?" Harry blurted out. If he was in the place of Black he would have gone all Dark Lord and all and Sirius was letting it go. But perhaps being Marauder and all had given the escapee a resistance to pranks...
"OFFCOURSE NOT!" The crazed look was once more back in the eyes of the marauder. Or perhaps not.
Harry absently noted that Sirius did play the role of dark wizard quite convincingly. Perhaps even the role of dark lord if he tried enough.
With a flourish of hand, Sirius had his wand out and pointed at him, all before Harry could barely even scramble around for his wand.
A rope bound him from a silent Incarcerous and he was banished into a chair that wasn't there before. Moments later a powerful feeling overcame him.
Something was trying to suppress his magic.
"S-St-unner." Harry ground out before he slumped against the powerful feeling when his magic was forced down by the powerful feeling doubling followed by tripling, more than Harry could fight back against.
Before succumbing to darkness, Harry wondered about the lack of iconic red colouring flash of the stunner that he should have seen.
The depravities that followed were so deprave, complex and brutal that the shear depravity, complexity and brutality can't be expressed by anyone despite how talented anyone maybe.
They were so bad that they would never even be mentioned again. It has nothing to do with the fact that both authors are too lazy to come up with a creative torturing method that isn't too extreme.
"So what the hell was that?" Sirius asked referring to the odd patronus.
"Don't know. I just pushed too much energy in it I guess." Harry answered the best he could.
"What do you mean by too much energy?" Sirius pushed on.
"The spell. It was telling me to not to infuse magic with emotions but I did anyway." Harry put his hands up to signify that it was unintentional.
"You overloaded the spell. That is good and bad." Sirius said blankly.
Seeing Harry's intrigued look, Sirius sighed before setting to explain.
"Light magic require positive thoughts to be infused in it while Dark magic requires negative thoughts to be used. All the spells that use light magic constitute light arts and a mastery of light arts allows one to access white arts. On the other hand all spells that use dark magic are called true dark arts. Not all dark arts use dark magic but have been added to dark magic for political reasons. Mastering true dark arts allows you access to black arts."
"Your name." Harry interrupted, "Your name has something to do with those arts, isn't it?" Everything has meaning in the magical terms.
Sirius grimly nodded. "That cunning of yours will be useful some day. Truth is both a beautiful and terrifying thing. My family is descended from Morgana Le Fey who was the founder as well as the strongest black arts user to date."
Sirius continued. "Harry, the biggest reason why Voldemort is so feared is because he is capable of wielding black arts. People say Voldemort is today's worlds Salazar Slytherin. It is wrong. Voldemort had exceeded Salazar before even giving his NEWT's." Sirius finished causing a grim silence to pervade in his room.
Harry was so stunned that the generally self confident teenager stuttered like a fan girl in front of her idol, "Y-You can't be s-serious!"
Such was the grimness of the answer that Sirius even let the opportunity of using his name as a pun to slide away in silence.
Still Sirius continued, "Grindelward could barely use black arts and was defeated within minutes when Dumbledore unleashed his white arts. And historians agree that Dumbledore wasn't fighting in his full form. Grindelward was influential and powerful because he had time to gather forces, not magically. Voldemort, on the other hand is one of the strongest black arts user of all times. Additionally, there is not even a single grey magic that Voldemort isn't familiar with."
Despite not liking the answer he could receive, Harry forced himself to question," Then how can Dumbledore defeat Voldemort?"
Dumbledore was called the strongest sorcerer of recent times. Surely there was something to back up the title? Right?
"Can Dumbledore defeat Voldemort? Yes. Unfortunately, Can Voldemort defeat Dumbledore? Yes" Sirius answered cryptically.
"Padfoot, I don't understand." Harry retorted puzzled tone colouring his confusion.
"The levels of both the magical titans are too close to compared. It can go either way. The only time Dumbledore fought against Voldemort, the fight nearly destroyed the entire Diagon Alley. Additionally the only reason Dumbledore didn't die was because Fawkes suddenly interrupted causing Voldemort to take a blood boiler from Dumbledore."
"Blood boiler? That's a dark art!" Harry spoke out.
"Harry, Dumbledore and Voldemort have a fragmented magical core. I can't explain much about it since I don't know much about it myself. Anyways all I know is that it forces the user to delve in both light and dark magic once in a while."
Harry remained silent while a suspicion blossomed in his mind and Harry made a mental note to find more about this fragmented magical core thing.
"Anyways, we have deviated far from the topic of light arts and dark arts. The thing is, in short explanation, the "coloured" magic's only require emotions initially. Later when the caster has mastered the spell enough, magic allows caster to use the spell without requiring the emotion in question to be brought up. This is the thing that allowed Voldemort to use the killing curse perfectly on a newborn, despite a clear lack of true hatred." Sirius gave a meaningful look at Harry but continued without waiting for a response.
"Using the emotions will supercharge the spell but is much more draining and is usually not worth it. The actual explanation is too complex for me to explain right now, as there is a lack of time." Sirius finished.
Harry knew that he needed to start some serious research if he hoped to get a foot into understanding just what the hell was going on.
"Back to the present, what do you need right now?" Sirius inquired.
"I have a date." Harry didn't bother to expand upon the self explanatory reply.
Sirius nodded sagely, understanding the problem.
"I thought about contacting Remus but he didn't stick me as the type to deal with this problem." Harry said semi-humorously.
Sirius raised an eyebrow at the type. He had an inclination that Harry was somewhat more resentful about Remus then he showed, at the werewolf having never bothered to show up in Harry's life till year 3. Still Sirius decided to give Lupin benefit of doubt. For now.
Forcing a smile to subdue his suspicions, Sirius replied, "And you suddenly realised that your social skill sucks. Additionally, you know that you know nothing about women." Sirius inferred.
Harry added further, "I also think that having my date implode on my first try will do wonders for my confidence." Harry finished sarcastically.
Sirius grinned mildly, "That's a wise move. Having first date ruined can be problematic and hard to recover experience. We need to plan this one, thoroughly. It is imperative in any man's life that his first dating experience is a positive one."
It was at that moment the Boy-Who-Lived knew that he had chosen the correct option of the list he had available. Sirius was actually for once was behaving like a proper godfather and not blowing everything to joke like he had expected the man to.
Sirius clapped his hands together, enthusiastically and said, "Before we get to the date itself, we need to see your personal grooming kit and wardrobe." Sirius said in a tone that suggested it was the very basics.
Harry was confused, "Grooming kits? Only women have make-up kits." Harry replied in a talking to an idiot tone.
Visibly Sirius deflated and took his face in the crease of his palm.
Mutterings were heard, "This is going to be hard."
Sirius knew that growing up without any proper father figure would ruin Harry's concepts regarding the mankind but this was disastrous!
Harry didn't know anything about personal grooming that any men knew. Cologne. Deodorants. Watches. Sexual practices. And that was only the beginning of the problems.
Sirius watched the tuft of newly growing hairs of the jaw line of his godson and asked him, "You know any hair altering spells?" Sirius asked hoping that at least Harry had found about the importance of timely haircuts.
Harry who was getting more and more confused by second replied, "Never needed to."
Now Sirius had both his eyes raised, "Never needed to?" Sirius parroted back the statement adding a question element of tone to it.
Rather than bother with a verbal reply, Harry closed his eyes and focussed at the base of all the hairs on his body.
Harry opened his eyes to look at the wide eyed look of Sirius.
"A partial metamorphmagus? You got that from your grandma I guess." Sirius quoted remembering the fact that Dorea Potter-Black was the closest complete metamorphmagus in the black family till Nymphadora was born.
Indeed Harry Potter had not a hint of hair to be seen on his face. All of them had receded back in the skin. As a matter of fact there was a not a single hair left on Harry Potter's entire body.
It took another 30 seconds for Harry Potter to revert back into his true form. His research had told him this much. Reverting back was much harder for partial metamorph like him. A complete metamorph wouldn't even blink an eye at a class-1 change.
"You can't do class-2 changes, can you?" Sirius was fairly sure that he knew the answer.
"I can't even do all class-1 changes, let alone class-2." Harry intoned about how diluted the metamorph blood had become in him.
The component of blood purity actually played a role in talents of metamorphs. Harry was way too distantly related to a metamorph and hence had very few components of metamorphic blood.
As a matter of fact Harry belonged to the weakest partial metamorphmagus category out there. A complete metamorphmagus like Nymphadora Tonks could alter any part of her body to even a non-human like a pig snout or extra large eyes like the literal puppy dog class-2 changes.
A partial metamorphmagus could change their body to match any variation found naturally in human. For e.g. Eye colours that are naturally found like blue, black, green and so on. The class-1.
Harry on the other hand was limited to only some of the variations that a partial metamorphmagus could do.
"So, what can you do?" Sirius inquired regarding his metamorphmagus abilities as limited as they were
"Hmm, I can modify hair length as much I want. I can colour it in any shade I want. If my skin cuts then I can loosen it a little, bring it close, seal with Episkey charm and tighten it. Great for small cuts that one. My hair texture is hopeless. Can't do anything about eyes otherwise I would have corrected the near sightedness. Can't do anything about bones. A little bit muscle reshaping and realignment. I can manipulate cartilages, tendons and ligaments however I want though."
Sirius took a moment to process it all before getting an idea that he wanted to try.
"Harry, it is a matter of mere curiosity, can you change your "length"?"
Harry grinned, "And width too." Poor Bell suddenly choking on him just before the summer break was one hell of memory. Thankfully, she forgave him on the condition that he made it up to her later. Harry wished that she meant what he thought she meant.
Sirius didn't know whether to be envious or proud, so he did his best to ignore the scary chesire grin on Harry's face.
"Okay know that we have that covered, we need clothes and other essentialities. How much time we got?"
"Sunday evening."
Sirius contemplated, "Okay today is Friday and the date is on Sunday. Enough time."
"Take a hold of me." Sirius instructed and extended his hand forward.
Harry gingerly took it, having an idea of what was about to happen.
Sirius waved his wand around in a whirl of circle and incanted a weird language spell that Harry couldn't make a sense of. It didn't seem to Latin, Greek, Celtic or Old Norse either.
"Ancient Egyptian, used for obscuring material transporting spells. It works great for apparition too. Your apparition signature will be blurred for day or two at most." Sirius explained seeing the curious expression.
Harry nodded but truthfully he was stuck on the words apparition. It was one of the fundamental aspects of magic. You open a wormhole, convert yourself into magic and push through the wormhole. All by shear will.
The first topic of sixth year Arithmancy was entirely about it and Harry was intensely intrigued by it.
"I hope you can tell me more about this obscuring spell, later." Harry asked.
"I will bring you the book if you like." Sirius said, inhaling a deep breath. Preparing himself for a side along apparition.
Harry nodded and understood what Sirius was about to do. He was going to do two apparitions simultaneously. Temporarily draining. If what Harry knew was true, however then the burden could be lightened.
The wormhole which was size of a fingernail opened.
Harry could feel Sirius pumping magic wandlessly around them with the wormhole doing all the actual magic. This was the draining part and disorienting experience. Any person who knew nothing about Arithmancy wouldn't even notice the change in ambient magic. Primary reason why muggles couldn't detect apparition.
Harry pumped his own magic additionally. He could feel the magic of his godfather being stunned for a second before gladly accepting it.
The world shifted.
When you supplied your own magic to the apparition or did it on your own, then the seemingly instantaneous mode of travel is not so instant.
It was like being in a dark and soundless tunnel with the only source of light being from the destination in front of them.
The world seemed to stop for a second and Harry watched his godfather who was looking him with his maruaderish grin. Harry grinned back goofing. Magic was magical once more. Something that he knew but he let himself forget. Never again, Harry mentally swore.
As they were travelling, Harry realized that he had lost complete sense of direction. He was on both the left and right of Sirius. He should have been on right but now the terms seemed so meaningless.
Instantly, Sirius turned to his side and a multitude of various runes and numbers manifested into existence. Harry knew what he was doing.
Apparition manipulation
Done correctly and you won't even notice the drain. Done wrong and you will fall in heap as well as leaving you magically drained.
This was why side along apparition tend to cause people who are being carried to fall in face first; they couldn't freeze time and manipulate the apparition.
With practice, it is possible to land on your feet but one needed understanding of either runes/Arithmancy to enter the matrix of apparition and alter to one's desires, so that magical taxation is minimal.
Harry had a faint idea of what to do.
He willed the matrix to show themselves.
Neon blue numbers with an occasional rune mixed in them came into existence. This showed how much he favoured Arithmancy over runes. His godfather on the other hand seems to be on the opposite end of the spectrum. His matrix was almost made of runes.
Focussing on his task, Harry saw the changes that his godfather was making. Such was the fluidity of magic that any change in magic that Sirius made in rune was automatically showed up as Arithmancy to Harry.
It was positively "wicked".
His brain calculator fired up and with a mental nudge or two, all the matrix were aligned within a second or three. Harry could feel the surprise in the magic of Sirius that was even now connected to his.
Harry ended up correcting even a rune that Sirius had miscoded!
They commanded the world to shift once more. The whole process having completed itself in less than ten seconds. Ten seconds that had felt like ten hours.
When they landed in the seemingly abandoned nook of alley, Harry hiked up his ears in anticipation of the sound that should follow as a release of residual magic. To his great joy, there was none. Meaning not even a single coding had gone wrong. That was on his first try!
"You never told me that you could apparate this well." Sirius questioned him.
Harry took a moment to wonder if that was pride in the voice of Sirius before answering, "I couldn't before."
Harry took a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing, "But now I can." Harry was sure that he understood enough about apparating to give it a decent shot.
Sirius, for once, let him be. They had a lot of work to do before the sun sets down.
Author's notes:
Atlanrom: Can't say when the next chapter will be but we will both try to be as fast as possible. I wanted to include the date as well but chapter got too long.
S.K.- We both have personal lives and while we both love fanfiction, it doesn't pay bills or helps us in completing/catching up with our studies. Still we both love our fans and we will try to get this story over with as soon as possible.
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