A/N: side note: several of the mal Théas swear "by Kali." Kali is the Hindu goddess of death and destruction, and her name will often turn up as an exclamation, a short one-word prayer to the goddess. (other gods and goddesses might be invoked as well, so don't be surprised.)

Chapter Four: Changes

Kingsley Shaklebolt looked around himself with interest. The Muggle street was depressingly normal, as far as he could tell. It was just as lacking in personality and variety as every other Muggle street he'd explored in this unrewarding hunt for the Boy-Who-Lived.

When Dumbledore had first contacted him, the young Auror had been excited to have an important solo mission – even if it was to be kept strictly confidential, hidden even from the Ministry. The past few months had led him to regret his misguided decision to accept the task. It was thankless, fruitless, lonely, and was killing his career. He'd already been passed over for a promotion because he was away on 'personal business' so often.

He had told Dumbledore he'd had enough. If he didn't find Potter by the end of the month, he was going to return his attention to building his own future.

Oh, he understood the boy's importance as a symbol. How could he not, what with Dumbledore constantly reminding him that if (when, Dumbledore insisted) the Dark Lord came back, Potter's presence would be invaluable. Or, more pressing, how disastrous it would be if the wrong people got their hands on the boy.

Like those awful Muggles, Kingsley thought sorrowfully. He had finally hunted down the Dursleys earlier that month – or at least what was left of them. Petunia Dursley was dead; shot by her own husband in her own living room. Dudley Dursley was in the custody of his aunt while Vernon Dursley was in a maximum security prison after a highly publicized trial. That had been how Kingsley had finally been able to find them at all.

He had been just about ready to give up his search. He'd gone through every method for finding people that he had learned in Auror training, and none turned up anything. It had been a rather humbling experience to stop trying and to have his answers fall in his lap. Almost literally.

Sitting down in a Muggle café, he'd overheard the name "Dursley" in conjunction with "this morning's paper." He'd promptly snagged an abandoned paper from a nearby table and perused it for clues. He didn't have to look very hard. On the front page was plastered the scowling face of a very fat Muggle with the headline "Mad Dursley Convicted on All Counts!" The article had gone on in enough detail to make Kingsley's stomach clench.

For the murder of his wife, Dursley would serve a life term. For criminal neglect, child abuse, and the suspect disappearance of one Harry James Potter, Dursley would serve 25 years without parole.

If ever a man deserved Azkaban, it was this one.

Kingsley wasn't the only one who seemed to think so. The article was filled with outrage and sorrow for the wife, son, and missing – presumed dead – nephew.

Questioning Dursley proved to be a waste of time. The only thing that Kingsley got out of the interview was a very sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was horrified that Dumbledore had put Harry Potter with this man, and then left him on his own.

Magical means had failed to find the boy, there were no mundane leads, and Dursley couldn't – or wouldn't – tell him anything he didn't already know. Kingsley couldn't help but begin to believe that the Boy-Who-Lived lived no longer.

(All conversations are in French)

It was Christmas. Brie's first ever Christmas, and it had been better than he had ever dreamed. He had gotten presents from everyone, and had, for the first time, been able to give presents. Kali, for the first time he actually had people to give gifts to! It was an amazing feeling.

Toys, clothes, books, sweets… Everything a boy could wish for. Uncle Shay had given him a strange toy that looked a lot like the squirt guns Dudley used to get, only his was gray and very heavy. When Mama saw it, she had taken it away very quickly. She spent a whole fifteen minutes yelling at Uncle Shay in the pretty language she always used when she was saying things she didn't want Brie to understand.

Later, Ami gave it back to him after she made him promise to never touch the thing called the 'safety,' and promise that he wouldn't play with it unless she or Uncle Shay was helping. He promised and she hung it up on the wall, much higher than he could reach by himself. It looked very cool, though, so he didn't complain.

Christmas evening they had dinner at Shay's house with all of the mal Théas. It had been extremely overwhelming to Brie and he hadn't been able to stay in the ballroom for very long before he'd retreated, shaking, to a corner. He'd hidden behind some plants for almost an hour before someone found him.

He was curled up as small as he could make himself, keeping his breathing very quiet. If the Big Man heard, he would come, and if he came then the Freak – Brie! Gabriel! Harry! Not the Fr… Not that. Brie. Rueben. He'd been startled out of his panicked thoughts by a strange gurgling noise, followed by a string of nonsense sounds. There was a rustling, and suddenly a dark head poked into his hiding place.

She was tiny. Harmless, Brie registered, though he remained tense as the child toddled into his sanctuary. Upon spotting him, she waddled over, hands outstretched. At first he didn't try to back away, completely off-balance. Chubby hands patted his pale cheeks, and he jerked away from the contact. The girl's amber eyes widened, and she fell onto her bottom with a look of surprise.

The two stared at each other for another moment, sizing each other up. Or, at least Brie sized up the girl-child…

As he had originally observed, she was small. She had dark skin and dark hair, which weren't precisely distinguishing features in their family. Her curly hair was tied back with an abnormally large red bow, and Brie couldn't help feeling a surge of sympathy for the child. After all, anyone forced to wear such a monstrosity deserved sympathy. Her dress was similarly frilly, and the little boy wondered how such a little person could move in such a big dress.

About this time, the little girl regained her bearings. Giggling and gurgling, she crawled forward to settle into Brie's lap. He was quite surprised to suddenly have a lap full of girl-baby and frills. He recovered masterfully, however, and was soon engaged in a rousing game of pattycake with the adorable child.

"I'm Brie," he introduced after a few games.

"Bwhee!" the girl exclaimed happily. Brie smiled and nodded. "Fae," she informed him gravely, and that was that.

It was the day after Christmas that changed Brie's life. He was curled up in his bed with one of his new books, dressed in new pajamas and wearing colorful new socks. Everything was perfect in his world. The dream was going exactly as he would've dreamed it (was dreaming it, he reminded himself quickly) and Christmas had been everything he had ever imagined it could be.

"Rueben? Darling, may I come in?"

Brie looked up and slipped a marker into his book. "Yes Mama," he called as he sat up in bed.

Rai slipped into the room and shut the door softly behind her. Making her way over to her son, she settled onto the bed beside him. She reached out with one henna-decorated hand and stroked his pale cheek while he watched her curiously. There was another moment of silence before Rai's hand dropped and she turned to gaze out the window.

"Gabriel," she began softly, causing Brie to jerk slightly. She never called him just Gabriel. "You are the son of my heart," she told him softly, reaching out to gather him onto her lap. "You are my son in everything but blood." Once again she trailed off into silence, absently stroking his hair.

Brie remained silent, not sure what was happening. He felt a surge of conflicting emotions. He was the son of her heart – was that affirmation? But he was not her son in blood – was she regretful? Was she thinking about having a son of her own? If she did, would Brie still have a place in her heart? Compared to a real son, what would he be worth?

"I wanted to," she paused, as if struggling with her words. Brie found this very odd, as Mama Rai had never been at a loss for words before. "I wanted to offer you… To ask you if you would consent to become my son in blood as well."

You could have heard a pin drop.

Pale, Brie sat on his foster mother's lap, completely blind-sided. Become her son in blood? How?

As if sensing his confusion, she hurried to explain. "There's a potion, darling, and a ritual. Very old," she paused before adding, delicately, "and illegal. It would, mm, change you. You would loose some of the features you have now, and gain the features of a mal Théa." She touched his hair thoughtfully as he remained still and silent. "It… it would be very painful, I understand. It would change you permanently, at the deepest level." She squeezed his shoulders, then continued talking. "I would wait until you were older, when you would be better able to decide for yourself, but the older you are, the more painful and dangerous it becomes. Beyond ten, people are known to die from this ritual." Another silence. Finally, "If you don't want to, or if you would rather wait, that is fine. I love you, and I will support anything you decide."

Brie remained silent, and after awhile Rai got up and left. "I'll be in my lab," she told him gently, "if you need me."

He didn't even hear her leave.

Rai pursed her lips as she sprinkled the dried Gurdyroot into the softly bubbling cauldron. She held her breath as she slowly stirred counterclockwise. At this moment, the experimental potion was extremely volatile. So far, every time she had tried to move on from this stage it had exploded rather spectacularly. According to her theory, she ought to be able to add the belladonna and dittany to the base. So what was going wrong?

"Mama?"

Rai jumped slightly as the little voice spoke from a few paces behind her elbow. Her hand twitched and the rest of the Gurdyroot was dumped into the potion with a faint sizzle. Reacting on instinct, she hurled herself back, hitting her son and forcing him down. She curled her body around his, waiting for the explosion she knew would come next.

It never came.

The potion bubbled and muttered dangerously, but remained in the cauldron. She blinked. Oh! Of course! She'd had to lower the amount of Gurdyroot she put in the potion, because it had to be stirred in to counteract the trace of deadly nightshade – if she put more in without stirring, it would be able to absorb the dittany and hold the effects stable.

Her hands twitched slightly, anxious to grab a pen and scribble down her thoughts, but she had a son to deal with first. She sat up, helping a wide-eyed Brie to sit up as well.

"Are you ok, Reuben?"

He nodded, green eyes staring up at her in anxiety. "I'm sorry, Mama," he whispered, looking away to the side. "I… I didn't mean to ruin your potion." He looked as though he halfway expected her to hit him.

Rai's mouth tightened slightly, and she reached out slowly to gather him into her arms. He flinched once, then melted into her embrace. This close, she could feel the slight tremors running through her body, and she was forced to wonder how much was from the almost-exploded cauldron and how much was fear that his foster mother would hit him.

"No, baby," she murmured, rubbing his back in soothing circles. "I'm not mad. You waited until there was a pause in my brewing; it was my fault for not hearing you come in. I told you to come down if you needed to talk, remember? I'm happy to see you." They were silent for a moment as she continued to rub his back, then she gave a slight snort of laughter. "Wanna hear a secret?"

Brie made a little sound in the back of his throat, somewhere between an animal moan and a humming 'mhmm' sort of sound.

"Well," she told him, pulling back so that he could see her face. "You just saved my theory!"

"Re-really?" he looked up at her with those big eyes, and she brushed dark hair back behind his ear.

"Really," she assured him. "I would never have thought to add more Gurdyroot after I had stopped stirring! Hours of work, and you just saved them all!"

He attempted a smile for her, and she stroked his hair again. They sat on the floor for a moment longer, then she stood up. Reaching down, she hoisted her six year old foster son up onto her hip and walked over to the padded bench near the sink. Any other six year old boy would be far too large for tiny Rai to pick up, let alone carry. Brie was still well within her carrying capacity, despite a rigorous nutrition routine. She swore he was resistant to the effects of her potions, but there was no way for her to prove it.

"So," she smiled as they both settled onto the bench. "You wanted to talk to me?"

Brie nodded, chewing on his lip as his eyes swept across her lab. Usually she would tell him to release the poor lip at once, but this time she left him the comforting gesture. If he wanted to talk about the ritual, well, she wasn't going to do anything that might make him uncomfortable.

"Ms Rai, why do you want me?" It was said with such heartbreaking innocence that Rai had to smother the urge to find that fat man and kill him, then resurrect him and kill him again. How dare he damage her son?

"Because you are my son. Because that's what mothers do. They want and love unconditionally. And I want you, little boy, because you are a beautiful person. You are intelligent, and respectful, and funny. You are… yourself." She paused, mind groping for some way to reassure the child without sounding false.

"Would you like to hear a story?"

Green eyes reflected confusion, but Brie nodded anyways. Rai smiled down at him, trying to decide how to word everything she wanted to convey to him in words he would understand.

"Once upon a time," she began softly, "two people loved each other very, very much. They were very young and very happy. They wanted to spend forever together, and more. They got married, and life was wonderful. And then a bad man came, and they were forced to hide themselves. It was a nightmare for them. For the first time, they were scared and the world was a dark place. But they still loved each other."

Brie was giving her his full attention, riveted on her words. Years of oral practice with Indian epics was suddenly paying off, as her lilting voice captured the little boy and swept him away.

"And even though the world was dark around them, something amazing happened. Do you know what, Reuben?"

Brie shook his head. "No, Mama," he whispered.

"They had a baby. A beautiful, laughing baby with eyes as green as emeralds," Rai touched the corner of his eye. "And hair so black that it made their dark world look bright," she ruffled the little boy's hair. "Who had his mother's pale beauty and his father's happiness," her golden fingers stroked Brie's white cheeks, then touched his nose in a slightly playful gesture. He smiled uncertainly back at her.

"They named him Harry, for his grandfather, and James, for his father. He made their world bright." A tiny intake of breath let her know that Brie had just caught on to exactly what this story was all about.

"But then something happened," Rai continued softly, returning to rubbing soft circles on his back. "The bad man found the little family, and he couldn't bear their happiness. So he pinched them out, like you might pinch out the flame of a candle." Rai paused for a moment of silence, both to allow her words to sink in and in remembrance for the dead.

Another little humming noise caught her attention, and she looked down to find huge green eyes staring at her as if she held all the answers to the universe. With a sad smile, she wiped away the tears that escaped those little eyes. Of course. No one had ever really told him about his parents before. She hadn't been positive about his identity herself until a week and a half ago.

It was only right that he knew their story before he made a decision about the ritual.

"But they kept burning, Reuben. That man thought he could snuff them out, but they kept burning. Oh, not so that the bad man could see them. Their flames were added to the flame of their precious little boy, and he burned all the brighter. But the bad man couldn't see that. He tried to put out the flame of their beloved son, but he couldn't. The little boy, just a baby, burned him when he tried."

She paused again, offering Brie the edge of her sari to blow his nose on. She could clean it easily enough later. She wrapped the trailing end around him, pulling him closer to her and encasing him in the colorful fabric. He snuggled in, focused completely on her story.

"So the bad man went away, and the world got bright again – all because of that little boy, and the sacrifices those two beautiful, happy people made for him. This is where, in the story, the little boy is supposed to get a chance at new life and new happiness. But a powerful person made a mistake, and little Harry, who had done so much for the world, was forgotten. He was given to terrible people, and they tried to put out his light, too. They tried their hardest to blow out his candle, but they couldn't. He was too bright and too strong for them."

Rai squeezed Brie's shoulders again. He was trembling, and she hurried on. She wanted him to think about James and Lily Potter, not those freakish Muggles who had treated him so horribly.

"And one day, a mother found that little boy. She looked into his emerald eyes, and she opened up her heart. She opened her arms and the little boy ran to her. She carried him away from his gray world. His flame began to burn brightly again, as she used her own fire to help his grow. Because that is what mothers do, and she was a mother. Later, she found out about those two people who had loved each other forever and more, and who had given everything they had to the child of her heart. And every night she said a prayer, thanking them for what they had done for her little boy."

It was true. Rai had never been much for appreciation or gratitude, but this was one exception. Lily and James Potter were definitely in her good graces, and in her opinion they deserved far more respect and recognition than they got. After all, they had managed to produce this beautiful boy in her arms.

"So you see, Reuben? How could anybody not want you? You burn so brightly! And to think, lovely child, how lucky we are! You were brought into this world by two people who loved you very much, and then you were brought to me, for me to love. Do you understand?"

Brie was silent except for his soft crying, but he nodded his head in understanding. Rai closed her eyes and pulled him tighter against her.

Brie looked around with wide-eyed interest. The Entrance Hall of the Salem Academy was long and glaringly white. Tall columns were evenly spaced between huge floor length windows. The morning sun flooded the marble floor. It was enough to hurt the eyes.

"Come along, Rueben," his mother raised an eyebrow at him. Blushing slightly, he hurried over to her side, taking hold of her offered hand. She gave him a reassuring squeeze before leading him the rest of the way down the hall. Soon the Hallway opened up into a huge circular atrium lined with doors, pillars, skylights, and more windows. In the center was an elaborate fountain made of more white marble.

His mother led him through one of the far doors and through a series of identical, dazzlingly white hallways. Brie tried to count turns at first, but soon found himself thoroughly lost when they came out into another circular room. Before there had been normal intersections, but by now the boy felt so turned around that he almost thought they were back where they had started.

The fountain was different, though, he noticed.

"This is the professors' circle," his mother told him, leading him to the fountain. She pointed to various doors and began to name the professor who stayed in each. Brie let the information go in one ear and out the other. For now, the names didn't mean a whole lot to the six year old.

"And this is our room," she finished, leading him to the third door on the left.

The room, he found with relief, was not more mind-numbing white marble. It was decorated in a soothing dark green, and was definitely a sight for sore eyes. Literally, he thought with a giggle.

He let go of his mother's hand to explore, quickly discovering that calling it a "room" was not strictly accurate. Although there were no actual doors other than the one leading back to the fountain, the room was portioned off into several distinct areas.

He found his corner easily, as his things had already been moved there. "It's perfect, Mama," he turned to smile at her. She smiled back at him and nodded once before walking off in the other direction.

Brie spent the next hour rearranging his room the way he wanted it. He still took great delight in being allowed to not only have things, but also being allowed to display them any way he liked. During the first week with Mama Rai and Ami, he had been too scared to touch any of the things they said were for him. Now he took great delight in moving everything around to suit his rather mutable whims.

When everything was perfect, he began to explore the rest of the apartment. It was small compared to their house in the mountains, but it was still huge by his estimation. He loved it already.

"Rueben?"

"Yes Mama?" He looked up from where he was lounging in the sun in their new sitting room. His mother raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't comment on his position on the carpet. Instead, she settled herself cross legged on one of the floor cushions, leaning forward to watch him with amusement.

"So? What do you think, my son?"

Brie sat up, pulling his knees to his chest. "I like it," he replied shyly, looking out the window onto what appeared to be a garden. "It's very nice." He flashed a quick smile as he added, "the hallways will take some getting used to. They are… dazzling."

"They are, aren't they," she mused, giving him a bright smile. "Don't worry too much. You'll adjust quickly, I'm sure. And have a lovely time getting lost…"

Brie giggled slightly at that, burying his little face in his knees to muffle the sound. He felt his mother ruffle his hair and listened to the soft pat of her bare feet exiting the room.

Their first day at the Academy passed quietly. A house elf brought them dinner and managed to give Brie a bit of a scare. He'd never seen one of the strange little creatures before, and while he had accepted the existence of magic with a dismissive shrug, he hadn't really stopped to consider what ramifications it might have.

Such as the possibility of there being "magical creatures."

Rai explained everything to him over dinner – including the place of house elves in society and how he was to treat them. Brie nodded along, though he wasn't quite sure he would be able to so casually dismiss the odd servants. After all, he knew first hand what it felt like to be so thoroughly ignored. His mother must have guessed something of his train of thought, as she didn't press the issue. Instead, she began telling him about some of the other magical creatures that existed in their world.

As they waited for the table to be cleared for dessert, Brie decided to ask a question that had started nagging at him during the second course. "Mama, do you remember when you told me how you… how you lost your ear?" He bit his lip and looked over at her as a slice of chocolate cake appeared on his plate.

"Yes." She took a small bite of her own cake, hiding a smirk. She knew exactly where this was going, and she'd been wondering how long it would take before her new son asked for the full story.

"Well," he shifted slightly in his seat, small face scrunching up in serious thought. "I just thought, since you said dragons are real, does that mean…?" He looked at her with those big green eyes that she found so hard to resist, and she caved immediately.

"Yes, Rueben," she grinned. "It means I really did lose the ear to a dragon."

"How?" he cried, leaning forward in excitement.

She paused, pointedly taking another bite of cake and chewing slowly. Brie was nearly bouncing in his seat, but he restrained himself. "Well," she began slowly, enjoying the way the child's eyes sparkled. "It happened such a long time ago, I'm not really sure I remember…" She gave a theatrically melancholy sigh and was rewarded with a melodramatic groan.

"Mama! You don't forget anything! Everyone knows that."

"Not anything, mm?"

"Nothing," the boy repeated firmly. "And you're not that old," he added as an after thought. Rai chuckled at that, abandoning the table in favor of walking into the sitting room and settling in the window seat. Brie scampered after her, cake untouched.

"Well," she started again, "I was very young. About your age, actually," she flicked his nose gently, earning a bright smile. "Shay took me to a Reserve, because I kept bugging him about wanting to see real dragons. While we were taking the tour, he turned his back on me and I, of course, ran off." Rai's black eyes sparkled and Brie giggled. He was quite familiar with his mother's sense of mischief.

"I managed to get myself over to the place they kept the little baby dragons. I was hiding in there, and what do you know! This little dragon baby starts hissing at me from the opposite corner. Oh, it was the most adorable thing you'll ever see, I promise!"

Brie tried to raise an eyebrow in disbelief but only managed in a rather cute look of befuddlement. "It was hissing at you, and you thought it was adorable?"

Rai ruffled his hair as she laughed. "Absolutely."

"Riiiight."

"Well, do you want me to tell you the story or not?"

"Go on!" he immediately encouraged, grinning in excitement. After all, it was exciting, whether or not it was strictly true. "Sooo there was the cute, hissing dragon, and…"

"And I decided that I had to have it." She said it simply, keeping her face completely straight as her son stared at her in consternation. "So I started trying to play with it. It took awhile, but eventually it came over to me and we kept playing. It wouldn't touch me, but it was perfectly willing to play games."

"But how did you loose your ear?" Brie pressed when she paused, urging her to keep talking.

"It's all Shay's fault, really," she smirked as Brie's eyebrows shot up. "He got everyone on the place looking for me, and one of the workers came barging into our little corner. The poor dragon got startled, and snapped out at the nearest thing – which just happened to be my ear!"

Her pronouncement seemed to have missed its mark, however, as she was greeted with a skeptical glance from the six year old.

"What? Don't you believe me?"

Apparently he didn't, as his face got even more disbelieving.

"Well then!" she threw her hands in the air in mock exasperation. "Fancy that. The lad doesn't believe his dear old mother's carefully crafted and very old story."

"If it bit your ear," he pointed out slowly, "why did it only take the top half?"

"Because it had a little mouth," she retorted promptly.

"Then why didn't you have it re-grown?" he shot back.

"I'm allergic to dragonsbane," she answered airily. "They had to give me some to stop the poison, and to give me enough to re-grow the ear would've killed me."

Brie was silent for a minute, considering her story. Finally he gave one last shot at catching her in a tall tale. "How did Uncle Shay survive Grandpa and Grandma when they found out?"

Rai burst out laughing. She had no answer for that one.

(The conversations in this section are English)

The Salem Auditorium was large – even bigger than the ballroom in Uncle Shay's house, Brie noted with awe. Like the rest of the school, there were windows, skylights, pillars, and all together too much white. One long table lay opposite the "grand entrance," and was already partially occupied. It was raised a few steps, and Brie identified it as the place for the old people to sit.

Mama led him up the steps and selected a spot. To her left sat an older gentleman with a white beard (more white! ugh!) and a blue dress. (Well, not really a dress – but Brie still wasn't quite sure he approved of these robe thingies that boys were supposed to wear.) Brie clambered up onto the seat on her right, continuing his silent inspection.

The room was arrayed with circular tables, seating anywhere from four to fourteen people. They were empty now, but there were places set, and Brie figured that this is where all the kids would be sitting. It made sense, he decided, approving of the setup. (Of course, he still wasn't too keen on the white tablecloths, white chairs, white porcelain plates… the list went on. These people really needed some imagination.)

"Miss Rai, welcome back," the old man greeted his mother as she gracefully sat down.

"Thank you Malcolm. I trust nothing too extravagant took place during my absence?"

The old man – Malcolm? – gave a wheezing chuckle. "Your troublemakers laid low, not to worry. Someone gave Samantha a fright, but I don't think it was one of yours. It was too sloppy – those rascals of yours are better at covering their tracks." There was another wheezing chuckle as the man reached out to pat Rai's hand.

"Hmmm," was all Mama would say.

"I see you brought another youngling," Malcolm smiled, leaning forward to look at Brie. Brie stared back with curious green eyes, and the old man's bushy eyebrows rose in surprise. "And who might you be?" he inquired.

After a quick glance at his mother for permission, Brie gave the old man a tentative smile. "Gabriel Reuben-Amrit mal Théa, sir."

"Quite a mouthful, that one." The man gave him a kind smile. "Do you like Salem so far?"

"It's very bright," Brie replied honestly. He had long since mastered the art of saying nice things when he was thinking bad things, and still somehow manage to be telling the absolute truth. After all, anything less was likely to earn… Well, better not to think about it at the moment.

The man laughed, slapping his knee. Brie found this behavior strange, but didn't comment. The man's laughter trailed off, and he returned to inspecting Brie with a benevolent smile. "You'll get used to it, lad. No doubt you'll be causing trouble in a week. You have the look of your mother about you."

Brie ducked his head, hiding behind a curtain of dark curls. He looked like Mama. Other people saw that he looked like Mama! His newly golden brown hands fiddled with the edge of his shirt as his bright green eyes sparkled with something between happiness and tears. It's a dream. Remember it's just a dream, and everything will be fine!

Somehow, the thought wasn't so comforting anymore.

A/N: Quick clarification: yes, they did the ritual. Harry Potter aka Gabriel mal Théa has curly black hair, golden brown skin, and is slightly taller than he might otherwise have turned out, malnutrition aside. (I imagine HP would've been taller had he not been starved as a child – GmT is the height HP should have been, plus a little extra). His scars are covered by a glamour. He still has Lily's eyes.