Sorry for the delay. I hesitated to go this way with the story but in the end felt compelled. Hope you enjoy our featured guest. :)
There was laughter in the kitchen when they got back to the house after Harry's work.
"That'll be Teddy," Harry said. He looked a little nervous. "I'm not sure if Ginny told him anything about you…Lily will have spilled whatever she knows. I wasn't expecting him…but Lily probably said something about you…"
"It'll be okay," Devlin said.
"You're not too tired-"
"He's Remus' pup. He's family. It'll be okay."
His wolf pressed on their connection, more than a little curious. Harry frowned - it was not as though Devlin had expressed feeling as though anyone here was family.
He actually started toward the kitchen before Harry.
"Devlin!" Lily shouted, as soon as she saw him. Teddy had been facing away from the door but turned around to look at him.
He looked so much like Remus it was striking.
"Hi," he said, and even his voice sounded like Remus' voice. "I'm Theodore - but everyone calls me Teddy. Lily's been telling me about your magic skills."
"I'm Devlin - and mostly everyone calls me that."
"Mostly? What else do they call you?" His eyes lit easily with humor in a way Remus' would not have.
It was strange. For so much of his childhood Devlin had felt like the foreign name, and yet now he felt like the others where his nicknames.
"Some of my pack used to call me Dubhàn - it means little dark one."
"Just because of your dark hair?" Lily asked. She was munching on a cookie. Devlin went to the table and stole one from the middle plate.
"Nah - I've got black fur when I transform. And I was the littlest one."
It took Lily a moment to comprehend he meant being a werewolf. Teddy picked up on it right away though.
"Transforming with others is a newer trend - it really seems to help though. It's great your parents were able to set something up like that for you."
Devlin tipped his head.
"You're not a werewolf," he said, frowning a bit.
"Teddy has always just been interested in them - and active building awareness about them - because of his father," Harry said, from the doorway. The protective, proactive, defensive look - he smiled at Teddy like Harry smiled at Devlin in his world.
"Remus would be impressed by your openness and acceptance," Devlin said. "He's a little…closed…about it in my world."
"Closed?"
Devlin shrugged.
"Everyone knows he is a werewolf, but he still felt very surprised when I told him I had willingly volunteered the information to my dorm mates."
"That was brave of you. It still carries such an unnecessary stigma."
"Sometimes I can understand why, but I agree - there is no reason for anyone to be afraid of me when my teeth are flat - and all sane werewolves know when their teeth are flat."
"I don't agree - there is no reason people should perpetuate-"
"Then," Devlin interjected, "you have clearly never been pinned down to the ground by a human like Greyback. I didn't understand either - until I had seen it from their perspective."
"You met Greyback?" Harry asked, he seemed as upset as his own father had. "He is…repulsive."
"He doesn't know when his teeth are meant to be flat," Devlin agreed. "I am ashamed to share his blood. I think him recognizing me was probably the worst part of meeting him at all."
Harry's eyes went wide. Devlin noted his mistake immediately.
"He bit you?" Teddy asked.
Do not lie! His sharpness growled.
"No," he said. "I was bitten when I was three by a werwolf under the influence of wolfsbane."
"Then why would they bite you?" Teddy asked, his brow furrowed.
"He was saving me. If he'd have had hands he would have used them to push me out of the way of the Killing Curse. But he didn't. So he used his teeth to pull me down."
Teddy's eyes widened.
"Wow. Lucky he was there, I guess. How'd you- I mean your world must be-"
"My world is very different," he said. "Harry said you might want to talk about Remus."
Teddy looked eager but shy; his magic buzzed as he tried to decide which should win. Even though he was older, it felt to Devlin as though he were the smaller pup.
"Yeah I- I know your Remus isn't my dad but…"
"There aren't many people here I'll say this to - Teddy but…I'll tell you anything you want. You can ask me anything."
"Really?" He looked surprised. Ginny had probably cautioned him not to be optimistic.
"Yes. You're Remus's pup. My wolf feels pretty strongly about this. You smell like his pup. I- I think we should wait until after dinner. My mum wouldn't want me to tell Emma if she didn't already know and I don't think Mrs. Potter would want me to include Lily in a such an open conversation about my world."
Ginny's brow drew down. Harry looked more than surprised about Devlin's openness. Devlin could feel the wolf pressing against his consciousness, making his eyes more amber than green. He'd never truly been confronted by another member of what his wolf would consider their pack.
Lily was scowling.
"Ah, yeah, okay," Teddy said, seemingly a little nervous. "Sure thing. Can I ask you about other things at dinner?"
"Of course. I will consider you just Teddy at dinner and tell my wolf to shove off."
Teddy laughed.
Devlin forced his eyes to be green.
Lily spent dinner trying to get Devlin to make such an open ended promise to her - proclaiming they were family, blood, sister and brother, and that he knew uncles she never had. It didn't work. She left for bed with Ginny grumbling. Harry stayed, almost pointedly, at the table sipping a cup of tea.
Devlin had thought of what Remus would want. Remus never really knew what he wanted. Devlin tried to imagine Remus in a world not characterized by the division between light and dark.
He slid his hand under his robe and took off the necklace Remus had given him for his birthday. He slid it across the table.
"It's the only thing of his I have with me," he said. "You should have it."
"I- I couldn't Devlin," Teddy said. He looked nervously over at Harry. Harry seemed unsure what to do.
"Yes you could. He gave it to me in the spirit of being part of his pack, but you're more his pup than me, and he'd want you to have it. When I get home, I will tell him, and I know he will like the idea. He can always give me a new one." If he isn't dead.
"You're that close to Remus?" Harry asked after a moment. Teddy was staring at the two amber stones, enclosed in an infinity loop. "You didn't tell me you were that close to him."
"He tries," Devlin said. He looked back at Teddy. "And sometimes it is hard for me - because for so long I was part of a different pack while kidnapped. He is always blaming himself for not having hands, and I am always so grateful he didn't. My werewolf saved me. When Voldemort raised his wand my werewolf made me look at him. It told me not to back down. It has saved me more times than I can count. I wouldn't be alive if Remus' had had hands."
It took Teddy a moment longer than Harry and to understand. When he did his eyes snapped to Devlin's amber gaze.
"Remus-" Harry said, breathless.
"..he..bit you?" Teddy's eyes were wide.
"He saved me. Yes, he's my maker." He didn't often recount his bite story, but he could see the need in Teddy and Harry's eyes. "Uncle Sirius must have been away, so he transformed in our basement. It wasn't unusual. Death Eater's came and my dad actually led them to believe my mum might be down in the basement - so they opened the locked door. I didn't know at the time Remus was a werewolf - and I remember thinking from my hiding spot that Remus was going to be so scared. I ran out from the closet when I heard my mum's voice - right into the fray. I still remember seeing my dad through the green of the curse. He would never have gotten to me in time and I was frozen. I remember the feeling of the teeth and I remember him staying with me. He dragged me into the front hallway and when the Auror's came I was right there - they were able to get me healed and comfortable quickly."
"But…you were still a werewolf. He bit you."
Devlin leaned forward in his chair. He shrugged.
"So what? Is it really that big of a deal? You were just saying how there should be no stigma attached. I'd rather be a werewolf than dead. Even if someone else had saved me that day, the next time I would have just been a regular little boy and I wouldn't be here. My wolf saved me the next time. Remus wasn't there but he left me with this part of him that saved me. In some way, Remus has always saved me. I'm hoping you can hear that from the perspective of your innocence - because Remus has always been too scarred to hear it from me. I owe my life to Remus."
Teddy's eyes went to the necklace again. Harry was staring at him through tear-filled eyes. Devlin felt himself slip a little backwards and his wolf was more than happy to fill the small gap. His eyes went amber.
"You smell like him," he said, more his sharpness. Teddy looked up. "Even if he hadn't told me. I would have known. I knew as soon as I we got here."
"What's he like, in your world?"
"He's the Defense teacher at school," Devlin began, shaking himself back into control. Teddy needed to hear these answers without the wolf undertone. "He fought really hard for me to be allowed at Hogwarts. I'm not the only werewolf there, either. He made it a mission to argue in front of the board for any werewolf on the list. In your world there aren't a lot of werewolves but in mine there are. One thing he says to the board is that if we exclude the children who have been bitten we make werewolves more of a weapon for Voldemort - and if that is the only place they are accepted… Like you, he is always learning and always engaging on the topic. He'd be proud of you."
For a moment this Harry looked at him as his dad would have - seeing everything that made him good.
OoOoOoO
There were more people the next day - as Harry had suspected. A set of tables had been run down the middle and individual teams and departments started putting information they had gathered there. Parts to a whole - trying to puzzle together the full picture.
He peered curiously at the various notes, maps, books, and parchments left on the middle tables, touching one here, pausing over one there, memorizing book titles wherever possible.
"Who do you want to meet with today?" Harry asked. He knew the Unspeakable and Blaise both wanted to speak to him. But for a moment he was drawn instead to three tables ahead, where Thatcher was reading a large manuscript. The furl and curl of the letters looked like a foreign language - Arabic maybe?
Thatcher was enthralled and did not notice Devlin at all. Next to him was a notebook - the muggle kind, full of writing and illustrations. Devlin felt his heart stop for a moment. His feet felt sticky, while the core of his body felt like it was leaping away from him.
"Oh, hello," Thatcher said, finally noticing him. "How are you this morning, young man?"
He did not say anything. His feet were still glued to the spot, his stomach lurching away from him. He couldn't look away from the book - even when hands came to retrieve it, and picked it up, and brought it to be held against the owners dark green blouse.
He wanted so badly to look up, but he didn't.
Don't, don't, don't!
"Devlin?" Harry had found him. He looked at Harry. Even his Killing Curse eyes - so alive - were better than looking there. "Are you alright? I was calling you from over there. Saul was wondering-"
"Yes, of course. Let's talk to him."
He shouldn't look, but he allowed himself one peek as they walked away. He'd know her red hair, and blue eyes, and bold handwriting anywhere.
Mom.
She hadn't stayed in America after all, then. Thatcher was frowning at him. He looked away quickly.
Saul Croaker stood - his tall lean frame somehow failing to intimidate but succeeding in demanding attention. He seemed almost indifferent - just as if he were and knew that was all he needed to be.
"Let's start with the flying," he said, by way of introduction. He wouldn't know, and neither would Harry, but asking him to do that was asking him to completely change his thoughts and emotions - from the realization someone was alive to remembering the sensation of killing someone and breaking into a million pieces.
"The fire would be easier to show you."
"We are in agreement as to the ease between the two important pieces of magic we're discussing. Their value is similarly ranked."
Of course.
"Where are you going to take me to show you?" Perhaps if he could get away from the room he knew she was in, it would be easier to focus.
Saul Croaker stared at him, extruding indifference, but maintaining a weight to his regard. He was silent.
"I do not have permission to be alone with you. As a minor, such a decision would fall on Mr. Potter's shoulders. He was very specific in when, how, and where he would allow you to be questioned. In response, the Minister put together this location to fit Mr. Potter's chosen parameters."
The look Harry was giving Saul was blatantly annoyed. He did not look at Devlin.
"Well then, we're going to have a problem because I'm not talking about the flying unless it's private."
Saul's eyes narrowed.
"Harry assured me you would not have a problem discussing this topic. He said you volunteered the information to him."
"Harry was wrong."
"So you are not inclined to discuss this topic with me?"
"No, I am not inclined to discuss this topic with you."
Saul seemed to pause and consider Devlin.
"Until the time that I can persuade you to discuss the topic with me - why don't you simply show me, then."
"No."
"I do not really understand why this is difficult for you. Mr. Potter already expressed what you told him - that you learned it from Severus Snape. That you must feel broken into many pieces-"
"I know precisely what I told Harry."
"Were you lying to Mr. Potter then?"
"No."
"So you will not say the same to me? Why?"
Devlin spotted Hermione, watching him - he could see her growing caution.
"I did not lie to Harry," he said.
Saul smirked.
"So, you told Harry an incomplete truth. As I suspected. For if what you had told Mr. Potter were the complete truth we would have many young children who could do as you claim to be able to do - if it wasn't simply an illusion you created with a spell."
Devlin felt anger burn in his belly. He breathed in and breathed out and felt for a moment as if he were back home - running through the body-covered field outside his school.
Harry's hand was on his shoulder, gripping through his cloak - but not even it could keep him there.
"Devlin we can move on-"
Devlin was as light as air, and as heavy as a boy - spiraling through the air - it took all his angry energy to focus on moving toward Saul - enveloping him as Voldemort had done to him. The anger evaporated quickly, and he only made it the half distance back to Harry before he was as heavy as a boy again - standing between Saul and Harry.
He tried to look composed as he caught his breath - every fiber in his body aching. He dare not move to go back to Harry's side - he knew he would fall.
The look on Saul's face was impossible to describe. The hall was quiet. His regard on Devlin was tight and controlled - as though it were meant to pin Devlin to the spot. Devlin knew the look - it was the look people gave him when they were sure he was more little Tom Riddle than anything else.
"I am pulling in an expert," Saul said - tensely. There was a finality to his words - as though he could not anticipate a different way forward. Hermione had been wandering around the hall but now was standing at the edge of the people who had gathered at his display. Saul looked at her. "He may not leave until I say so."
Harry cocked his head.
"As you were so kind to point out - I negotiated everything about today. Nothing Devlin says or does at the request of anyone here can be used against him. You cannot arrest him or detain him!" Harry said, with such conviction and protection toward Devlin. He looked at Hermione, as though daring her to contradict him.
Devlin felt the gap between Harry and himself acutely. It was about the distance he had stood from Harry in his own world, when he had refused to fight. When he had stopped protecting Devlin. When he had given up.
"Saul," Hermione began.
"I do not want to detain or arrest this child, Mr. Potter!" Saul said. "I want to pull in an expert! That was dark, powerful, uncontrolled, magic!"
"He's a child - a person. Not some time turner or dark artifact!" Harry's words had bite to them.
"He is a child - he is a person - he is also full of magic. I respectfully ask to pull in an expert, Mr. Potter. That was Dark Magic - it matters not that he is a child."
"It was flying," Harry said. "Wandless flying. He's talented - so what."
"Harry," Hermione said, "I think you can agree that you're less sensitive to the feel of dark magic than you'd like to be…" Hermione's gaze said clearly she agreed with Saul, at least on that mark. "He just wants to consult with someone, Harry."
She chose not to go to Harry but to approach him in his space between them. Her brown eyes were as sharp and intelligent as they were in his own world. His Hermione had once told him he had what it took to be a Healer.
"Devlin - I would not do anything to endanger you. I want to speak with Saul privately and understand his thoughts - if I agree - will you meet this expert?"
"Is what Harry said true? That nothing I do or demonstrate today at any of your requests can get me arrested, detained, or otherwise harmed?"
"Harry drafted the release himself. The Ministry of Magic has given you full immunity for actions you take and things you say as part of our investigation into your appearance and return."
"Fine. In this regard you have my complete cooperation."
Hermione nodded and left with Saul. It took Hermione half an hour to return. She invited them to follow her to a private room to meet with this supposed 'expert'.
"It doesn't matter who it is," Harry said to him as they walked, "like it could be the most renowned wizard on Dark Magic or whatever that they pulled from America - I don't care. If you get uncomfortable just tell me and I will get us out of there, Devlin. This was not part of our agreement."
It was something Devlin's own dad would have said to him.
"Okay." His throat felt almost too tight to even say the one word.
The expert was an old man - wearing an overcoat and beneath it a dirty button up shirt and trousers. His hair looked as if he'd been working in a garden, and he smelled like an odd mixture of dirt, seeds, and…meat. His eyes were a bright considering blue hue, his hair white and cut short. He stood from one of the lounge chairs in the room. There was a younger man - about Harry's age - that remained seated. They looked as if they were related. The younger man's eyes locked onto Devlin's figure.
Hermione embraced the older man as if they were friends, and Harry's face visually calmed, although his hand was still on Devlin's shoulder. He looked somewhat familiar to Devlin although he could not place him.
"Lovely to see you, Hermione," the man said, embracing her. "Saul tickled my curiosity. I hope I am not stepping on any toes. My son and I were busy at home - Saul said it would be alright if he came with me."
"Of course, of course," Hermione said. As his father mentioned him, the son rose. His hands were so clean compared to the hem of his robes that a spell must have been used. "How have you been Rolf?"
"Oh excellent. The twins are well - if wild. I dare say, helping my father out with his friends is a considerable break."
Hermione laughed.
"You'll have to give Luna my best wishes."
"Of course. She will be sad to have missed you…and such a mysterious case."
The older man had found Devlin.
"You must be the boy," he said, smiling gently. "I'm told you're very far from home."
"My name is Devlin," he said curtly. "And you are?"
"Call me Newt, Devlin. Such a pleasure to meet you. Your eyes - they are quite an exquisite mix of your wolf and yourself - usually one or the other is more dominant in color."
Devlin had never met someone who detected so quickly he was a werewolf, although it was possible Saul had told him. Devlin said nothing.
"I heard you can fly without a wand," Newt continued, his eyes alight with curiosity but also caution.
"One might suspect it is criminal here - the equivalent to a mark upon my left forearm." He doled out the distain and frustration in equal, carefully measured, parts. "But yes - I can fly without a wand, that is."
"Criminal - not in the least. A mark of curiosity and power - absolutely. A most impressive ability. Do you control when it happens, Devlin?"
"…It's my magic," he said, not quite following.
"Saul felt perhaps it had been triggered by your anger with him. That it had been somewhat accidental."
"Saul could have simply asked me to repeat the demonstration," Devlin said, voice causal but coming through gritted teeth. It was probably for the best the wizard was not present. "I don't have accidental magic. I can count on my hand the times it happened when I was younger."
"Accidental magic can happen even to teenagers. It is nothing of which to be ashamed. Saul said you had experienced childhood trauma."
Had Saul guessed what Devlin had needed to picture in order to fly? Was this man's expertise about minds or magic? Devlin clenched his teeth and tried to center himself.
"It was not accidental. It was purposeful. My anger did not aid me."
He resisted the urge to clench his fists. He was aware that all eyes were on him.
"I'm his guardian Newt. I trust you - I trust anyone Luna tells me to - but I need to know what is going on." Harry's hand had never left his shoulder. "And so does Devlin. He is, as you said, very far from home."
"Oh of course! Saul was concerned the flying Devlin demonstrated is something he does not actually control. If I could just ask a couple questions to begin with, maybe we could set everyone at ease."
Harry let go of Devlin's shoulder - finally.
"Yeah, okay. A couple questions."
"Would you like to sit down, Devlin?" Newt asked - motioning to the chairs at the back of the room. It looked like one of the rooms Auror's would take family members into to tell them bad news.
"No."
"I understand," Newt said, "you're probably thinking it might just be less bothersome to sprint out that door than answer anymore annoying questions."
"No." He was eyeing the slightly ajar window and wondering how fast his 'black choking vapor' could escape, though.
"Well, then I'll just start. Saul said you had been held captive as a child - by Voldemort. In your…dimension."
"Yes."
"When were you first captured?"
"I was six."
"That is quite young - did you ever meet Voldemort?"
"Yes. I am Harry Potter's son."
"Oh…I - Saul did not tell me that part." Devlin said nothing. "Regardless - the reason I am asking is more complicated. How long were you held?"
"Years. My father believed me dead until I was nearly nine. I was rescued soon after he found out I was still alive."
"I cannot imagine how hard that must have been for you - and your family. When you were held captive, I am assuming you were unable to practice your magic. You might have even feared an accidental outburst would mean punishment-"
"No."
"No?"
"No."
"How would you have grown in your magical ability if you were held captive?"
"Not all captives are held in cells, huddling on the ground, sir. Sometimes, they are Potion Masters or Healers who still perform their trade. To the contrary - my magical ability kept me alive. It made me…interesting. It is easier to kill boring people. I had my first wand when I was seven. I could undo his wards when I was eight. I could have passed third year practicals at the time of my rescue. Even without a wand, my magic has always been more focused than most children - I never needed to learn to do wandless magic - my 'accidental' magic was within my control from a very young age and meshed seamlessly as I grew - into an ability to do spellwork wandlessly."
Newt turned to Hermione.
"I assume Saul informed you of his concerns - they cannot be so if his magic was not pushed down."
"What exactly are we talking about?" Harry asked, inserting himself. Hermione looked uncomfortable, Newt did not seem disturbed at all.
"Do you want me to speak to you priv-"
"No. If we're concerned about Devlin's magic in someway then he should know about it."
Devlin felt a surge of thankfulness.
"Of course," Newt said, "it pleases me to hear you say it."
He paused, seeming to consider his words.
"In children for whom their magic is suppressed - by their own means because they fear it, or fear others reactions to their magic - these children can sometimes develop what is called an Obscurus. It is, in the simplest definition a manifestation of the magic they've suppressed. All of the times their magic wanted to meet their needs but was instead suppressed builds until it is it's own kind of magical core, almost sentient - at times it cannot be controlled - much in the way a child might have an accidental outburst. It takes control of the child - they become a black vapor, dark, powerful - choking. When Saul saw Devlin fly, he felt it might be this. He feared for Devlin's safety - an Obscurus is parasitic. Most children die well before puberty."
Devlin felt his heart beating quickly.
"But…you can only have an Obscurus if you've suppressed your magic?"
"Yes," Newt said, looking at him kindly.
"So. I'm not in any danger."
"I cannot say that. I have not seen this flying. I do not know how you acquired the ability. All I can say is it cannot be an Obscurus if you did not suppress your magic."
"Do you want to show him?" Harry asked. "So we're all sure?"
"What makes you such an expert?" He asked him. "Who are you?"
"You don't know me?" Newt asked, genuinely bemused.
"Are you on a chocolate frog card?"
"I am in this world, at least."
"So you're Newt Scamander."
"Indeed."
"Fine. Although I'm not quite sure how know about animals makes you an expert on parasitic magic."
Devlin closed his eyes. He thought of the Killing Curse. How it had torn out of him when he had cast it; breaking through his skin and into his wand with such force that he wondered how either could remain intact. He thought of the tent, glowing green. He thought of his blindness. He thought of his body, reaching in terrible pain toward the part of him that had been ripped away. He thought of how it had felt; how he had felt for a moment as small as the particles Voldemort rendered them to fly. As nothing as the air. As heavy as a boy.
He felt himself break apart into impossibly small elements.
He breathed with the magic; the world was blurry and black and white, and it felt like it was pulsing in the way it did if one were deprived of enough air. He let himself rise slowly - every piece of him disconnected yet moving in unison.
He hovered above them all for a moment, looking down at Newt's tilted head and furrowed brow, at Harry biting his bottom lip, at Hermione worrying her hands, and at Newt's son - curious. For a moment he wondered if it would just be easier to be this way - to see if he could sneak out the tiny crack in that window over there and disappear. He could catch a breeze and see where the wind took him. But then he thought of Emma, and his mum, and Maria and he solidified himself in the air, wandlessly hovering himself and landing on his feet. He had to get home. He needed these people on his side.
Newt's regard was heavy but not trapping.
"You're not an Obscurial," Newt said. "I would ask - what did your instructor tell you in order to teach you this magic?"
Devlin pressed his lips together, aware that Harry had asked him not to identify Voldemort as where he had learned the magic.
"No one taught me," he said, slowly. "Even when I was small, I have always seen and felt magic - it makes sense to me. Speaks to me. Reveals it's patterns. I've never needed an instructor to tell me how to do a spell. I saw Severus do it. He rescued me once with it. It felt like I was breaking into an infinite tiny pieces - as light as air, but still somehow as real as a boy. It made me ache - like when everything around you is crumbling and you feel like you're walking on a velvet covered knife. Like when every bit of your body just wants to escape escape escape but you can't. I never asked Severus. He never told me. I pondered it quietly during lectures, while I was going to sleep, and when I just didn't want to participate in whatever was happening - just an idle puzzle. I didn't know if it would work when I jumped off the railing at Hogwarts. At the time I felt sure I was in a dream - and I didn't feel I had anything to lose. If I had known - perhaps I would have been too afraid. But - like always, my magic did what it needed to do."
Harry swallowed beside him. Hermione looked sad. Newt remained passive - face clear of judgement.
Devlin thought they were done.
"I can tell you have a talent for the intricacy of magic," Newt said, drawing Devlin's focus back. "Like an artist." He paused. "May I be so forward as to assume you, as the artist you are, easily notice the similarities between spells even if they are meant to perform different results. For instance, have you ever noticed how the Patronus Charm and the Shield Charm have a similar…frequency?"
Devlin narrowed his eyes.
"Yes."
"Have you ever tried to perform a patronus charm?"
"Yes."
"Successfully?" That was Rolf, seeming to be unable to stop his curiosity.
"Yes."
"That is - you can't be more than a second year-"
"I am a first year," Devlin said.
"Rolf," Newt said. He turned back to Devlin. "So you have felt that surge the first time you succeed - the overwhelming memory you must pull up. With subsequent castings, the memory's quality is less important - but those first times it must be potent - what takes a great leap initially is a seemingly smaller hurdler the next time."
"Yes."
"May I ask what memory you used first?" It was Rolf again. He had that look in his eyes that intelligent people did when they felt like they were on the cusp of solving some puzzle, unable to hold themselves back. If he had been Severus Devlin would have felt under his regard like he was a truly complicated new Potion on the edge of successful brewing.
"Running through amber grass."
Newt had seemed set to chastise Rolf for pulling them off topic again, but then he furrowed his brow, equally intrigued.
"Amber grass?" Newt asked, delicately.
Devlin didn't want to explain that his wolf protected the lightest part of their magic now. Such would require explaining what had tainted his magic.
He thought he could probably do it without a wand, but being underestimated had it's value.
"May I borrow someone's wand? It is easier to show you."
It was Newt who offered his, smiling kindly.
"I've an extra," he said.
It was a simple oak wand that did not particularly like him, but it would do.
He pulled his sharpness forward and lifted the wand and said the words.
Harry's eyes went wide. Hermione looked on one level almost frightened, as if she were seeing a ghost, but on another determined to stand her ground.
Newt crouched down on the floor, looking into his sharpness' eyes.
Rolf looked simply fascinated.
"I have never seen a werewolf patronus. A wolf - yes. All werewolves have a wolf as their patronus. This is quite remarkable. He is even your chronological age."
"I wouldn't touch him," Devlin said, as Newt angled for a closer look. "I don't know if he can touch real things."
"He cannot act separately from your desires," Rolf assured. "He is not sentient separately from you."
"He listens to my sharpness, unless I push my sharpness aside to take control of him, I would think. I can feel it." Devlin said.
Newt looked up, and his eyes lit with intrigue.
"Are you using 'sharpness' to refer to your 'wolf'?"
Devlin shrugged, almost embarrassed.
"It's what I've called it since I was three - it's stuck."
Newt had risen.
"It is extremely rare to survive a werewolf bite at such a young age," Newt said, his brow wrinkled. "But I can already see you are exceptionally strong in every way, so I should not be surprised. Still it is a shame that it happened to you. The attack must have been intercepted before the werewolf could-"
"He saved me," Devlin said, almost angrily. There was nothing shameful about his sharpness! Harry already looked uncomfortable, probably remembering last night with Teddy. "When I was kidnapped, and they threw me down on my knees in front of Voldemort - it was my sharpness who saved me. He kept us there. He made me look - told me how important it was to look Voldemort in the eye. He made me interesting. It's harder to kill something that is interesting."
Their patronus growled - an odd almost hollow sound. Newt glanced at it, almost simply in acknowledgement.
"You so easily intrigue me, tempting me to become distracted!" He had a smile on his face, full of a pure curiosity that Devlin thought belonged mostly to children. "As I was saying, however: in order to perform the Patronus charm, you must think of something happy - but, I think - in order to perform the magic you use to fly - you must think of something quite the opposite. In the same way you can feel the similarity between your Patronus and a Shield Charm - I can feel the similarities between an Obscurus and your flying magic."
"There are plenty who would claim I have been infected by badness, so it makes little difference if you think so as well. You don't survive for years in a Death Eater camp without a wand being put to your head a time or two. And when it is, you do whatever you're told. At least, when it is pointed at you."
"And when it is not?" Rolf asked, still looking at Devlin as though he were a puzzle.
"Then you break through the Dark Lords wards late at night and set a child free. Or feed a man they are starving. Or hide your picture in someones pocket and hope someone finds you." Devlin said. "And you lie about it."
Harry had that particular look of disbelief on his face that Devlin was well acquainted with. Hermione seemed unfazed - Devlin thought that when she had looked at him she had seen him more wholly than Harry had. Newt looked thoughtful.
"I'm curious why Voldemort, a man who feared being second best almost as much as he feared death, would encourage someone with your abilities."
"Voldemort only cares about himself," Devlin said. He felt Hermione and Harry's regard on him - heavier than Newts. "When he looks at me he does not really see me. He sees what could have been for him, and it makes it fuzzy enough to keep him from killing me. He wonders, what he would have been like, without the muggles at the orphanage. What he would have been like if he had been born into a pureblooded family. What he would have been like if he hadn't been skinnier than me. He thinks they pushed his magic down too - but mostly they pushed him down. Dumbledore told me while a boy born without might be able to acquire love and trust, a boy born with them can never entirely lose them. I know there will be a day when he looks at me, a man instead of a boy, and he realizes I am someone capable of being his enemy. I know when that time comes we won't be tangled up in his head anymore. He won't look at me and see himself. I know when he looks at me like that, he will raise his wand and try to kill me. And I know when that happens I will kill him first."
Newt's regard was not judgmental - more logical. Harry looked as if he had swallowed a past-date pepper-up potion. Hermione looked pained. R
"So you think you will be better than him, before he realizes your potential threat?"
"Yes," Devlin said.
"You have confidence-"
"I have conviction," Devlin corrected. "Severus would call me a foolish boy. But when you have no choice, you jump into the ring and try out your fists and you don't think about how you're going to get hit."
"Yes," Newt said slowly, in agreement. His eyes peered at Devlin, seeming to see every detail. His eyes reminded Devlin of Dumbledore. "Such is the hard life-lesson some people learn far too early."
