"You've got to get up every morning with determination if you're going to go to bed with satisfaction."
~ George Lorimer
"The only reason for time is so that everything doesn't happen at once."
~Albert Einstein
The Next morning…
1989
An insistent clanging was the noise that rudely awakened Harry from his for once peaceful slumber. However, he was used to being dragged from his warm bed at any hour of the morning or night for emergencies, so he readily sat up, rubbing the reluctant sleep away from his eyes. Beside him, Sirius was doing much the same thing. Both of them gave a small stretch before pulling away their blankets and rising completely off of their mattresses. The clanging continued. Harry glanced around, and was surprised to see that only a few of the other cabin's inhabitants were stirring. Adam blearily looked around, as well as two others who slowly but surely abandoned their cocoon of blankets. The rest of them made no effort to wake up, instead groaning and rolling over and even not doing anything at all. The clanging continued.
Shaking his head to sharpen his still unfocused vision, Adam glanced to his right, expecting to see Sirius and Harry still fast asleep. To his surprise, the two of them were already awake and raring to go; making their beds while quietly murmuring to each other and stealing incredulous looks at their lazy roommates. The clanging continued.
"Geez," he commented, ignoring everyone else's demands of quiet and shushing, "you two are early risers…not to mention evident morning people! Maybe you won't fit in so well here…" He said it in a joking manner, but one of the other men rolled over onto his back so that he could see everything in the small cabin that 6 of them shared.
"There's no question of that," he snapped rudely, "even if they didn't like mornings they wouldn't fit in here. What I want to know is why they won't freakin' leave and go back to their fairy tale lives where they belong. This isn't any place for a baby."
"Knock it off, Cameron!" One of the others reproached, looking at the newcomers with a kind and apologetic smile, "The Commander passed them, didn't he? Now stop being a whining pain and get your butt out of bed!" Cameron huffed angrily but did as his roommate had demanded. The other one rolled his eyes and approached Harry and Sirius.
"Hi," he said, "you guys must be Thomas and Jason; Adam told us that you guys would be coming. I'm Aiden." He held out his hand, which Sirius gratefully shook. By doing so, the ice was broken. The remaining four men whom they did not already know quickly came forward and introduced themselves to the pair. Sirius and Harry shook hands with each of them, tolerating the curious and confused look and responding to them with an even, steady gaze. All of them, even Cameron, could sense their two new roommates' first and most important rule: "Ask no questions, you'll receive no lies."
And still, the clanging continued, before it cut off mid clang, leaving the camp in utter silence. Adam glanced at the old clock in their cabin then stood up and smacked his knees. He put his arms around Sirius and Harry and looked at him with an emotion resembling pity.
"Boys, welcome to your worst nightmare."
Harry Potter: age 9
1989
"Get your move on, junior! You're causing a line up! Go, go, go!" Harry gritted his teeth and kept on running. Some of the men around him offered sympathetic looks, though most simply concentrated on breathing. His lungs were burning, his legs feeling as if they were filled with lead and the only thought running through his head was: 'Don't pass out…don't pass out…don't pass out'. Sirius ran beside him, uttering a different curse under his breath with every breath that he took, having learned very colourful language around the world.
Adam was also near them, giving words of encouragement as often as he could. It had only been three months since Harry and Sirius had first arrived, and their bodies were still not used to the daily grind that they were forced to endure.
"That's it, junior! Keep that up, now!" Cameron had calmed down a bit over the time, though he still enjoyed torturing Harry whenever he could, especially during the morning run, which he was in charge of, being the best long distance runner in the camp. But Harry took it all quietly, showing maturity beyond his years and simply did as his leader commanded. He sped up, levelling out with Aiden and Josh in front of him.
"Hey, short-stuff!" Josh greeted warmly, while Aiden simply smiled, "are you ready to go kill Cameron with me, yet?" Harry snorted.
"Sorry, can't. Not letting him know that he gets to me." Both men laughed, having had the conversation each and every morning run. All of Harry's roommates still knew him as Jay, Tom's nephew, though none of them actually called either of them by their fake names, other than in serious situations; they always giving them nicknames. The older men had quickly welcomed Tom, and were eager to take young Jay under their wing, showing him the ropes of camp life, and giving helpful tips which made the work much easier. But no matter what they said, nothing could help with the running…or Cameron.
"Come on, junior! You can take potty breaks on your own time! Get running!" Harry simply glared, before he turned to his two companions.
"You know what? Never mind; I'm going to rip him to tiny pieces—then rip his tiny pieces into even tinier pieces—and then eat him for lunch!" Sirius and Adam came up behind him and heard Harry's words and the adults all laughed at the created image in their minds, knowing that Harry didn't actually mean it.
"What are you five doing? Gossiping like old women! Get a move on, before I have to kick your sorry butts!" Their laughs turned into growls, and the group became silent, concentrating once more on evening their heavy breathing and making it alive to the next torture session.
5 months later...
There was a huge thump as Harry fell onto his back hard, almost creating a dent in the floor and his back, but he seemed not to notice. Instead, he just leapt to his feet again and raised his arms in a defensive position.
"Good, squirt…exactly what you need to do. Now, let's see you do it twice in a row." Harry inwardly groaned, wondering once again why all of his teachers seemed to have their minds bent on singling him out. But he resumed his starting position on his knees with his head down in the middle of the floor, trying to ignore the rest of the class's eyes on him. His eyes fluttered closed, and he relied on his instincts and the barely noticeable movement around him to find the precise moment. Then, there it was. His teacher leapt at him from behind him, and Harry's eyes flashed open. He whirled around in a single jump, landing not on his knees but on his feet, and blocking his attackers before they had even come close to hurting him. He looked for the kick that had sent him sprawling to the ground on the last try, and this time caught it, effectively blocking it and using it to his own advantage, slamming his teacher to the ground, then resuming his defensive position.
The teacher rose from the ground, gazing upon his youngest student with pride while the rest of the class clapped and cheered, especially the few roommates that Harry had in the class with him. They knew how hard Harry found that one drill, and how much he practiced, trying to get it right. Harry lowered his hands, and gave a quick bow to his master.
Sirius watched him with a proud grin, ecstatic that Harry was showing his amazing skills. He looked around the room, marvelling at how fast he and Harry had fit in. Most of the other trainees saw Harry, or Jay, as a nephew, or a younger brother and they all doted on him. Sirius too was very liked, and the pair became well known in the whole camp; everyone knew them, and they were good friends to almost everybody there.
Harry fought back a satisfied grin, instead bowing respectively to his teacher before turning and returning to the group of trainees. They all clapped him on the back, saying things like:
"Way to go, Squirt!"
"Told you that you could do it!"
"High five, little man!"
"Nice going, Kiddo!"
Harry took the comments well, smiling softly and blushing slightly from all of the attention, making those around him laugh. Inwardly, he was absolutely ecstatic that he had gotten the drill. The universe had once again shown him that hours and hours of hard work paid off in the end.
Harry Potter: age 10
1990
Harry concentrated with all of his might, carefully and cautiously finding his way down the narrow tunnel. Walls surrounded him, filled with memories, thoughts and fears. He could Sirius laughing and teaching him all the ways to make Moony mad, and then teaching him how to get forgiven. He could see Moony quietly explaining to him the concepts of Math, doing his best to help Harry understand.
He could see Dark shadowy figures running towards him and his two guardians, while Sirius and Moony were frantically throwing curses behind them and urging Harry to run faster. He could hear Moony nervously telling him what he was, and begging him to understand that he wasn't dangerous and that he would never hurt anyone purposefully, then quieting as little Harry hugged him.
He smelled burning as Sirius almost burned down the kitchen, trying to make Harry's 6th birthday dinner, and heard Remus roaring with laughter. The burning turned sour, becoming instead the smell of fire engulfing a house and all of the possessions inside.
He felt safe and warm within Sirius' embrace as he hugged him, trying to calm him after another one of his nightmares, whispering soothing words that comforted the two of them. He felt cold and unprotected as he woke up for the first from a night terror and was completely alone; Moony was away and Sirius was fighting Aurors downstairs.
And then, at the end of the constantly changing hallway, he saw a flash of green light and a high pitched scream of his name, before everything around him became black. From the shadows, a shape appeared, four feet pounding the ground as he ran forward, getting closer to Harry with each second. Harry watched, nerves tingling with anticipation and heart pounding with excitement. The figure slid to a halt in front of him, glowing, emerald-green eyes staring back into his own identical ones, and Harry looked upon a raven-black, young animal.
~Thisismylittlelinebreakdon'tmindme~
Harry gasped, opening his eyes wide falling backwards from his sitting position. Around him, other trainees startled and looked at him in surprise, while the old teacher, Mr. Jameson, at the front of the class looked up from his book and smiled.
"Ahh, young Jason, have you found your form?" Still in shock, Harry could only nod, making the transition from his mind to reality; meditating always made him feel fuzzy afterwards. The teacher clapped his hands.
"Splendid! Well done, Jason." Everyone else joined in the applause, some slightly jealous that Harry had done it before them, but most simply happy for their young friend. "And you are?" Mr Jameson prompted. Harry looked at him, disbelieving that he had actually done it.
"I'm a wolf," he gasped, saying it as if it was a question, not a fact. His teacher smiled, while others resumed their clapping, this time for his impressive form. They all quickly quieted down to listen as Mr. Jameson pulled out an old book and started to read the traits and qualities of a wolf.
"A wolf is a proud creature; it knows it's abilities and weaknesses. A wolf is independent, determined, but often misunderstood. They usually live in small packs and they are extremely close to their family. They can be very social, but are just as happy being on their own. Wolves are loyal, brave, natural leaders, and wise. They know to pick their fights, and to use their wits as much as their fangs and claws in their battles. A wolf is a noble creature, and to be one is an honour. As such, not many Wolf Animagi are known in the world."
He closed the book, letting his final words sound around the small room. Harry was stunned, but tried his best not to let it show. Instead, he calmly nodded, though his friends could see how amazed he was past his mask.
"Well, Jason, doesn't this just prove once again how amazingly unique you are?" Mr. Jameson enquired teasingly. Everyone laughed, and Harry felt at ease amongst his peers again. He gave a mock salute to his teacher, resulting in stronger laughter.
No one noticed the figure in the doorway watching them all silently, his eyebrows up in consideration and his own surprise while the wheels of his brain worked furiously behind contemplating eyes. Without a word, Commander Brighton left the room, filled to the brim with even more questions about his youngest pupil and his past, but more importantly, his future.
3 months later...
"Is there a reason that we had to come all the way to bloody London for this? We couldn't do this anywhere else, honestly?"
"Lay off, Aiden; we're cold, wet and tired too."
"Another reason that I don't understand why we're here..."
"We were already in the neighbourhood, and I've been promising Harry this for a long time, so man up and deal with it! It's just a bit of rain!"
"More like torrents and torrents of rain...alright, alright! Don't give me that look; we'll go to this magic alley of yours." Sirius was about to deliver another retort, but a new voice interrupted their quiet argument.
"Do I even want to know what you two are whispering about?" Harry asked dryly, staring at his godfather and friend in front of him. Sirius gave Aiden one last quick glare before he turned around to face his young ward.
"Not at all, Pup; we're just discussing the final plans for your surprise. The surprise, in fact, that you are going to receive in a couple of minutes."
"In a pub? Very classy, Padfoot..." Sirius flashed him a quick grin full of mischief as they entered the dark, gloomy pub called, 'The Leaky Cauldren'.
The trio received a number of curious stares, mostly directed at the dark hoods completely covering their bodies and faces or the obvious difference in age between two of them and the third. But the way they walked oozed confidence and importance, so no one dared question them. Even Tom the Bartender, usually quite frank with his customers, didn't feel the dire need to talk to the strangers in his pub.
Harry glanced inconspicuously around the dark place, his mind buzzing with the question as to why they were heading to the back door instead of stopping for something. His curiosity mounted as they passed through the back and came face to face with a solid, high brick wall. Aiden started to snigger gently.
"Get lost, much?" Sirius didn't even bother answering him. Instead, he drew his wand and tapped certain bricks. Aiden's snorts all but disappeared when the brick wall started rippling and moving, opening more and more until they had made a complete doorway. Harry stared silently into the slightly less busy than usually alley way. His eyes were huge, and even Aiden could see the awe and happiness shining in them.
"Diagon Alley," he whispered, and just the amazement in his voice made Aiden glad that they had gone. Then, Harry suddenly knew why they were there. He whirled around to face Sirius, making his hood almost fall. He stared at his godfather, incredulous hope alive in his young face. Sirius didn't even need to say anything; he grin told the whole story. Harry barely resisted the urge the whoop, settling instead for tackling his guardian and almost knocking him to the ground.
Sirius gave a mighty, exaggerated "Oof!" before he chuckled and began to hug Harry back, but his godson was already off running down the alley in the direction of a small, dark store called, "Ollivanders".
~Thisismylittlelinebreakdon'tmindme~
A bell tinkled as the old door opened into the deceivingly small shop, shedding rays of lights into the musty air and singling out every speck of dust. Harry listened and watched attentively, unwilling to let any second of this day pass without his knowledge; he'd been waiting for this a long time. Still though, he stayed on guard, as his training demanded. He remained cool and collected, but still his boyish glee could be easily distinguished by those who knew him. Unfortunately for Harry, Sirius and Adam knew him very well.
"Geez, squirt," Adam teased, "could you get any more excited before your world explodes? You'd think you were just handed the best thing in life!" Harry turned his cloak-covered self to face his friend, and replied simply,
"I have been!"
A soft chuckle startled them all into their defensive stances, sharp eyes scanning the room with vigor, searching for the tall shadow emerging from the back of the shop. He stepped into the light and Harry was taken aback by the frail, old face. Lines crisscrossed the cheeks, showing the age and wisdom that he possessed. The thin, chapped lips were stretched up into a small, childish grin that seemed so out of place of someone so old. But his eyes were what caught the trio's attention: a blue so pale, almost white, but with a sense of knowing, that reached out and seemed to read your soul. Harry barely suppressed a shiver, but found he could not look away. Sirius was a little more prepared.
"Ollivander," he nodded respectfully. The man looked back at him carefully before mimicking the movement.
"Sirius Black," he responded bluntly. The three stiffened even more, quickly checking all of their notice-me-not charms and the placement of their cloaks, all the while never taking their eyes off the wandmaker. Ollivander clucked his tongue at them in reproach.
"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Black. I believe I mentioned that when you were here buying your first wand, did I not?"
Sirius shook his head ruefully, finally allowing himself to relax, compelling his companions to do so also.
"You did, sir. At the time, I thought you were joking." Ollivander didn't seem offended in least. Instead, he gave a knowing smile.
"And now?" was all he said, before he turned his attention to the youngest person in the room.
"As for you, my lad, there's a little mystery for me to unravel. Travelling with Sirius Black, aged beyond your years, cloaked and hidden from the world; that can only mean one thing, I'm afraid." Ollivander looked at him hard, leaned down and placed his lips right beside Harry's ear.
"Welcome back, Mr. Potter."
Harry Potter: Age 11
1999
"Expelliarmus!"
"Rectumsempra!"
"Confringo!"
"Duro!"
"Everte Statum!"
"Flipendo!"
"Halt! That's enough for now...if we don't stop it now, you guys will probably last for hours." Harry and Adam lowered their wands, their breathing slightly laboured but all in all quite calm for two people who had been duelling for ten minutes. "Good work, though. Jay; nice job with your defense, but I want to see you a bit stronger on the offense. Next Pair!"
The two stepped off of the training grounds, accepting bottles of water and gulping them down before turning their attention to the pair duelling in front of them. Everyone was so concentrated on the fight that it took a few moments for them to become aware of a shape in the sky headed directly to them. It wasn't until a shadows fell over the group that they even thought to look up.
A brown owl with black spots covering its body flew above them, the angle of its wings suggesting that it was attempting to land. Instantly, everybody tensed, perfectly aware that all of the owls that approached the camp immediately headed to the owlery. But the offending magical bird paid no heed to their alarm, simple lowering and lowering until it was right above them, a thick parchment with green ink letter firmly clasped between its sharp talons. The moment that Harry was in its shadow, the letter was released. Then, with a shrill hoot, the owl took off in the opposite direction. Everyone's eyes followed it until it was completely out of sight.
As one, the trainees and the teacher all turned to Harry, who looked at the letter like he was seeing a ghost. Then, without a word, he ran out of the training area, shouting out as loud as he could,
"PADFOOT!"
~Thisismylittlelitebreakdon'tmindme~
Harry and Sirius sat side by side, gnawing on their lips, wringing their hands and waiting for their Commander's decision. The silence in the cabin was deafening, and Adam fidgeted in the corner, watching his two friends with worry. Eventually, a sigh sounded, and Commander Brighton let go of the letter, allowing it to fall to his desk.
"Well, Jason," he started, "or should I say, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived-Who-Everyone-Thinks-Is-Dead and Sirius Black, The-One-Who-Killed-His-Parents, this is a right mess you have gotten yourselves into." He sighed again and reached his hand up to tiredly rub his eyes. Harry swallowed and kept his eyes down, anxious to hear what his fate was going to be. Sirius shuffled from foot to foot, ready to run if that was what was necessary. Finally, Brighton spoke again.
"You two are lucky that you are two of my best students, or you would be out of here before you could say 'Expelled'. I expect full reports and explanations about your past, why you lied and sincere apologies addressed to me as well as the rest of the camp; they deserve to know. Rest assured that no one will talk of it outside these wards. For punishment of lying to your commanding officer, you will report to me every Sunday afternoon after dinner for 4 months to do extra training."
"Yes sir," Harry and Sirius responded immediately, relieved that their secret was to be kept from the rest of the world. But still, they kept their muscles tense, worried that the storm wasn't over. The Commander noticed, and raised his hand in the sign of 'stop'.
"Yes, I'm angry, but I'll deal with that tomorrow. Right now, we have a decision to make. Ja-Harry, do you want to go to Hogwarts?" Harry closed his eyes, wishing that he didn't have to make the decision, but he knew that he did. He glanced around the room, taking in Adam looking sad, Sirius watching him closely, and the Commander with his emotionless face.
Hogwarts: the place where his parents went, met and fell in love; where the Marauders ruled the school, filling it with laughs and pranks. Hogwarts: the place where Sirius found a haven from his home; where Moony found friends who didn't hate him for something that he had no control of. It was somewhere he could be around people his own age, have a sensible schedule that wasn't made to kill him, and where he could forget about Voldemort for a couple of months.
Harry turned around and strode to the doorway, setting his gaze wild on the camp. He could see groups of trainees laughing and walking to their next lesson while that darn bell kept ringing. He could see his friends, his mentors; people who had been quick to welcome him into their ranks and respect his silence about his past. People who watched and help him train, doing their best to make sure that he got a lesson right; people who had become a sort of distant family to him. The camp that he had learned backwards and forwards, where he could find any certain place blindfolded. There were so many questions that he wondered about: Hogwarts or Camp, School or Training, Kids or Adults, a Distant Place He Had Never Been to or the One Place Where He Had Stayed the Longest. They all turned into the same thing: Hogwarts or Home. There really was only one answer.
He turned around and marched to the Commander.
"Sir, they'll really want me to go there, won't they?" he enquired. At Brighton's nod, he continued. "So it's likely that each September they'll send another letter?" Another nod, and Sirius began to see Harry's plan. "I can't just leave here when my training is still going on, while there's still much that I have to learn. Eventually, I will go, if only to see what they have to offer. But for now, I'm staying here...if that's alright, Sir." The Commander scrutinized him closely, before his mouth lifted at the corners and he gave the first real, albeit small, smile that Harry had ever seen him give.
"That will be just fine, Trainee."
Across the ocean, deep in the wild of Scotland, Albus Dumbledore sat comfortable in his chair behind his desk, his twinkling eyes staring off into space as he thought about the upcoming school year. The house-elves were already engrossed in their planning of the feast, the teachers were adding the finishing touches to their teaching plans, Mr. Filch was grumbling about the cleaning he did, and Hogwarts itself seemed to shiver with anticipation. Everyone and thing had waited for this year ever since the fall of Voldemort: if Dumbledore was right and he had survived, Harry Potter was coming to Hogwarts.
The old professor sighed happily, content that he was finally going to meet Harry and teach him; tell him all he needed to know about the world, his parents, and his life. His musings were interrupted by a ward alert going off, and he heard his staircase moving ever so slowly to allow someone access to the Headmaster's office. He prepared himself to call out his customary, 'Enter', but, without so much as a knock, his door swung open to reveal a very frazzled and excited Minerva McGonagall.
"Headmaster!" she gasped. "He was responded! Harry Potter has responded to his letter! You were right! He lives!" Dumbledore rose gracefully but quickly from his chair, hurrying around his desk to reach the Deputy Headmistress.
"And what," Dumbledore questioned, a tender smile on his face, "does Mr. Potter say?" Professor McGonagall handed him a still firmly sealed letter. Without hesitation, Dumbledore opened it and unfolded the letter, eyes quickly reading the writing over. Within a few agonizingly slow minutes, his eyes widened and a tiny gasp escaped his lips. Minerva instantly became worried, and plucked the letter from the Headmaster's frozen hands.
Professor Dumbledore,
Yes, I am alive, and I have received my letter of acceptance and extend my gratitude to you and your staff for allowing me to join the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. However, though I will most likely eventually join the ranks of the fifth, sixth, or seventh years, for now I must quite politely say:
No Thanks.
Sincerely,
Harry James Potter
Hey Guys,
I know that I honestly don't have a good enough excuse for it being "forever" since I've updated...a lot of you have probably already given up on me! I am sooo sorry, though...a lot of stupid "stuff (for lack of a better, more vulgar word)" has come up in my life lately, and I've been pretty busy trying to sort it all out.
HOWEVER this story is not abandoned.And without an further ado, here is your next chapter.
As always, I am not JK Rowling, if I was, I certainly would not be just good friends with Tom, Rubert, Dan and Matt.
~Wicked
P.S. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors. My beta seems to have disappeared on me, and I have never been very good at catching my own mistakes!
