Author's Note: Another installment of the Riddle Me This AU world.
Disclaimer: Hmm…come on! You know they aren't mine.
'telepathy or mind-to-mind.'
ss,parseltongue,ss
oooOoooOoooOooo
Riddle Me This 03
By Renatus
oooOoooOoooOooo
Their London flat overlooking Diagon Alley was an old secondary property of the Potter's. Croy had used the place late in the war to hide, before it was found and destroyed. He knew that it had been empty since Charlus Potter had died, years before James and Lily even got married. Hidden under a host of wards and barriers, the flat was extremely difficult to get to, or even see. Croy was able to apparate into the flat with little trouble the night he took Harry and Sirius from Godric's Hollow. He knew just where it was and what wards covered the place.
The three Blacks lived there alone, and used the wizarding alleys and the streets of London as a playground when they needed some fresh air. With both Sirius and Croy working, and Harry at the Weasley's a few days a week, they weren't actually closed into the two story flat all that much.
It was a cold, rainy day in the winter of Harry's sixth year that found the three cooped up inside their living room entertaining the oldest Nolan sister and Remus Lupin. Harry sat on the sofa between Remus and Emmeline, regaling the two with a tale of Harry's and Padfoot's exploits through the various alleys connected with Diagon, eliciting amused laughter from the two as well as Sirius. Harry had taken to riding his bike amongst the shoppers, either chasing, or being chased by, Padfoot.
Croy could feel the subtle familiar chill of Regulus' presence, floating near his chair, but with Remus not being aware of who Croy was born as, the ghost remained invisible and silent. Both Croy and Sirius knew that there would come a day that they would tell Remus everything, but neither were prepared to do so and risk Remus' mind being read, unprotected as it was yet, but Croy could feel Remus' growing skills in Occlumency. It would not be too long.
Croy watched them all with a small smile on his face, marveling at the laughter and joy he saw. Even Remus's face was youthful as he laughed at Harry's tale. The werewolf looked younger than Croy recalled him to be, his hair was sandy and not grey, and the lines that he expected to be on his face were not there, not all of them at least.
Sirius had made sure to keep in touch with the werewolf, and while Remus was unaware of Croy's true past, he remained close to them and made a point to return to London a few times a year to drop in. The werewolf had found a life he could live outside of the country, and none of the Blacks begrudged him that.
Croy rose from his chair silently, using his cane to balance himself. Harry glanced at him, but continued his story, sending the others into laughter. Croy smiled at them and went into the kitchen, intent on starting dinner. Riddle flapped after him, settling onto the back of the chair that Croy hooked his cane over.
'She's following you.' the bird said to his mind. Croy glanced towards the doorway, seeing Emmeline standing there, dressed in her usual style with her brown hair pulled into a messy bun at the back of her head.
"Can I help, Liam?" she asked with a smile.
Croy gave a one-sided shrug and started pulling the ingredients he'd need for the meal out of the cooler. He gave her a small smile and simply pointed out the recipe laying on the counter.
"I'll chop." She offered, taking the vegetables from his hand.
"How is your father?" he asked as they settled into the preparation for the meal.
"He's well. He may be sending you an owl soon. His collection is growing again."
Croy chuckled. "It doesn't take him long."
"No, and I think he rather likes having you around every once in a while."
Croy smiled at her, thinking of their recent engagement as they prepared the dinner meal. Croy had revealed his past and where he came from to Emmeline, planning on giving the woman a month or three to consider all that he had said before asking her to marry him. Her overwhelmingly positive response to his story sparked him to ask her on the spot, presenting the antique ring that he dug out of the Potter vault. He knew that it had belonged to his great aunt, that its twin had been passed down to James to give to Lily.
Croy had left the second delicate diamond ring in the vault for Harry, with all the desperate hope that the boy's life would be different from his own, that the boy would have the chance to fall in love and want to marry. Croy had realized that he looked at his young counterpart as something akin to a son, or nephew; a separate person from himself that he cared for deeply. No longer did he view Harry as his younger self, some alternative timeline's view of who he – Croy – could have been. Harry was different than he was. Liam Duran Croyus-Black was no longer Harry James Potter, no matter the memories of a life he had hidden deep within his mind.
Croy felt a remarkable level of freedom in that revelation
The few times he delved backwards into his old life, into the memories of another time, he could barely reconcile the two lives to each other. He never would have married a girl in the midst of the war he had fought, and even though he knew it would likely occur again, he couldn't bring himself to refuse her. The memories were a bit too distant, the time too peaceful, for him to be able to use the excuse of danger and war to turn her away.
oooOoooOoooOooo
Croy entered the flat, closing the door behind him and feeling the wards ripple at his entrance. The warmth of the flat contrasted nicely to the chill of the English fall. Skullcap was floating in his usual corner, mask and hood pushed back over his head. Harry was sprawled across one of the couches in the living room, a book propped up on his chest. The boy glanced at him as he entered and mumbled a greeting before returning his attention to the book.
Harry had recently found Flourish and Botts, much to Croy's amusement and Sirius's horror, the boy had taken an immediate liking to the dusty old book shop. At just eight years old, Harry was reading at an impressive rate, going through the children's section in the bookstore very quickly and moving on to short chapter books. Croy was impressed with the boy's intelligence, though he figured he shouldn't have been. Without the Dursley's to threaten Harry for getting better marks than Dudley, Harry's education had taken off. Molly doted on him, when he and Ron weren't joining the twins in their mischief at any rate, or following Cedric on their brooms to heights they shouldn't be flying to at their age.
"Good evening, Mr. Croyus." Emmeline said, coming from the hallway with a small bundle in her arms. She slipped an arm around his waist and Croy smiled down at her and their young son.
"Good evening, Mrs. Croyus." He replied softly, laying his lips across her forehead, feeling the short hairs of his beard brush against her skin. He held one hand against the child in her arms softly, careful not to wake the small boy. He marveled at the concept of his son. Laurence James Croyus, named for his two grandfathers. Croy was still stunned every time he saw the infant with his tuft of dark hair.
Harry muffled a gag from the couch at the two. Croy glanced over at the boy with amusement.
"You just wait, Harry." Emmeline warned, "You won't be gagging anymore once you're older."
"Best part about growing up, I say." Regulus said, waggling his eyebrows at them.
Harry curled his lip up in disgust, crossing his eyes at the two before returning to his book. Emmeline laughed lightly.
"Hold Laurence for a bit, Liam, while I get dinner started." she said, handing the infant to him. Croy hooked his cane over the back of a chair and held him carefully, watching the dosing infant with a smile on his face. Laurence wriggled in his arms, and his eyes opened, revealing their golden green color.
Croy smiled at his son, waving his fingers before his nose as he sat on one of the chairs. Laurence gurgled at him and waved his arms, batting at his fingers. Croy's smile widened.
The door of the flat banged open, letting in a draft of cold air.
"Oy!" Sirius called, "I'm home!"
"Shut the door Sirius!" Emmeline called form the kitchen. Sirius jumped and stared down the hallway with his jaw hung open slightly. Remus stepped in beside him, shoving him out of the way so he could close the door. Croy shook his head at the two, watching as Sirius got over his momentary shock at Emmeline's order from the kitchen.
Croy glanced at Regulus, noting that the ghost had pulled the skull mask over his face, but remained visible. Croy and Sirius had told Remus some of Croy's past, and introduced Skullcap, but the ghost's true identity had not yet been told to the werewolf, on Remus' own request. The werewolf had asked them not to tell him more than they thought he needed to know, and Croy respected that request.
"Lookie who I found, Croy." Sirius said, patting Remus on the back hard enough to nearly knock the werewolf off balance.
"Remus!" Harry called, jumping off the couch and running to the two. Harry threw his arms around him, and Remus chuckled as he hugged the boy.
"Awe, where's mine?" Sirius asked, staring at the two with a defeated look on his face.
"I see you every day." Harry said with a smirk.
"So?"
Harry shrugged, and pulled Remus into the living room, telling the werewolf to sit with him on the couch, and showing off his new book. Sirius trooped after them in a slouch. Croy raised an eyebrow at his antics, amused.
"How's the little one, Croy?" Remus asked, putting an arm around Harry. Cory smiled, and held the child in his arms up, turning the infant around so he could see the room.
"Ah, my second godson!" Sirius said, stooping down to take Laurence from him. Croy let him, watching as Sirius cradled the boy in his arms.
"How old is he now?" Remus asked.
"He was born in May," Croy said, counting the months. "So five months now."
"He's that old already?" Remus said, watching Sirius make faces at the child. Croy could hear Laurence spitting bubbles back at the man, which just goaded Sirius on.
"He's gotten so big." Croy said, and eyed Harry, "They grow fast."
Remus smiled at him, placing a hand across Harry's shoulder beside him. "They do, don't they."
oooOoooOoooOooo
The boy known as Harry Potter was nearly nine when he met Albus Dumbledore. Croy had finally come to terms with his own age of thirty-six compared to his godfather's twenty-nine. It was strange that Sirius was so much younger than him, both physically and in many cases especially mentally. Croy didn't even try to think about the age comparisons with his old friends. He was old enough to be their father in most cases. He was a father. He had a hard time still thinking of that, even after a year.
It was a cool, summer afternoon and Croy was seated on the balcony in his chair, watching the wizards below him go about their business when the old man appeared in the alley, staring up at him. Croy was sure that he saw the twinkle in the man's eyes, even from four stories up.
Croy watched the old wizard for a few moments, running his fingers idly over the short growth of beard on his chin, his face impassive as he looked upon a man whom he considered the closest thing to a grandfather he ever knew. Dumbledore had done some rather silly things in regards to his upbringing, but Croy had long ago forgiven the man of his errors. Albus Dumbledore, despite the rumors, was only human after all. Croy even was glad on some levels for all that Dumbledore's decisions had caused, since he knew that the skills he had in many ways came from the experiences he had growing up. He did not blame the man. Croy had made as many mistakes, some worse.
'So that's Dumbledore?' Riddle said inside his mind. Croy nodded his response, just a slight tilt of his head. The raven turned its head back and forth, before settling one of its red-brown eyes on the old wizard in the alley. Croy watched as Dumbledore nodded slightly to him, no more a movement than what he had done, and then the old man walked across the alley, disappearing from view as he passed beneath the balcony.
Croy knew that the man would be arriving at his door soon.
He rose from the chair, entering the flat in silence despite his cane and limp, startling Sirius a bit as he closed the sliding door behind him. Sirius looked up at him with a smile before returning his attention to the paperwork strewn around him on the floor. Croy eyed the mess a moment, recognizing the Ministry papers as Auror mission reports for the most part.
"Albus is here." Croy said, idly scanning a few of the reports. Nothing struck his interest. It was still too early for Voldemort to have begun to move. But it was his Death Eaters that worried Croy a bit. He knew little of the decade that passed in the wizarding world while he grew up at the Dursleys, but he was sure that the Death Eaters weren't entirely silent in that time. Yet nothing significant had risen in the past eight years, small things, yes, but nothing that warranted much of Croy's attention.
"Albus?" Sirius said, looking back up from the papers, "Here?"
Croy raised an eyebrow at him in amusement, "Yes."
"How do you know?" Sirius asked, pulling the papers into a messy stack with some impatience.
"I just do." Croy said with a smirk, turning to go down the hallway.
Sirius grumbled behind him darkly, causing Croy's smirk to widen. He enjoyed winding his godfather up a bit, it wasn't often that he got the opportunity. Sirius was a Marauder after all, and Croy had been too distracted with Voldemort to get much practice in as a prankster, therefore, he was little match for the professional he had left in the living room. Croy took what he could get, which was often simply aggravating the man with the things he knew, and keeping many of his tricks on how he knew, a secret.
Croy went up the stairs to Harry's room. When Croy and Emmeline had married two years ago and moved into the flat, Harry and Sirius had moved their bedrooms to the second floor, leaving the larger main level to the newlyweds. With their first child past his first year, it was a good arrangement. Emmeline had taken over the spare bedroom next to the master suite as a nursery for their young son.
Croy stopped and knocked on the open door of Harry's room, spotting the boy seated cross-legged on the bed and bent double over some gadget in his lap. Regulus floated near him, his mask covering his face, and giving Harry unhelpful suggestions. Croy was quite sure that Regulus had about as strong a pranking streak as Sirius, but was far more subtle in his execution.
"Come in, uncle Croy." Harry said, not looking up from his project. Croy knew that Sirius never knocked; it was like the man ignored the concept of a door most of the time. Harry could tell which of his 'uncles' was at his doorway simply because Croy was the only one who ever knocked – every time.
Croy entered the room, watching the boy stick his tongue out between his teeth as he fiddled with the toy. Croy inspected the object, thinking it looked rather like a muggle pocket watch, though it was missing most of its pieces.
"What is it?" Croy asked, his voice quiet as his mixed accent rolled over his tongue.
Harry glanced up at him, his green eyes bright as he peered over his glasses. Harry pushed them up with his finger over his nose, "It's a pocket watch. I found it in the pawn shop down at the end of Diagon. It doesn't work though. I'm trying to figure out why."
Croy looked down at the disassembled pieces strewn across the boy's lap and bedspread. Croy had discovered his interest in tinkering late in his life, when he was holed up unexpectedly for nearly a month with little to do, sometime around his twenty-fourth birthday. He had taken an old wizarding clock apart out of vindictive boredom, and found an intense interest for the process of putting the thing back together again. It took him nearly the entire month to piece it back together, and it never did work rightly once it was whole again, but Croy had found a hobby, however little time he had to play with it. He hadn't realized that growing up at the Dursleys without anything to call his own had hidden that interest from him. Throughout his Hogwarts years Croy would never have dreamed of taking a precious possession apart just to see how it worked.
"Is it missing the quartz?" Croy asked the boy, noticing the age of the watch.
Harry shrugged, remaining silent as he fiddled with the pieces again.
"Albus Dumbledore is coming for a visit." Croy said, watching Harry piece the pocket watch back together.
Harry looked back up at him, "When?"
"Now."
Harry blinked, surprised, "Does he want to see me?"
Croy shrugged one shoulder, having learned not to dislodge the raven using him for a perch long ago. "I don't know. Probably."
"Most likely." Regulus said. "I'm rather surprised it took the old man nine years to get here."
Croy gave the ghost a quelling look. He was well aware of Regulus' opinion of the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Snape may have felt comfortable going to Dumbledore after leaving Voldemort, but Regulus never had. Croy was only vaguely aware of the reasons why the younger Black brother didn't fully trust Dumbledore, and it was enough for him not to bother asking for the details.
Harry nodded. "Ok."
"Croy!" Sirius yelled up the stairs, "Harry! We have a guest, come be socially adjusted, normal wizards for a while! This guy's an important one!"
'He's an idiot.' Riddle commented in his mind. Croy rolled his eyes, though he wasn't sure whether it was at Sirius or the raven's telepathic comment.
Harry narrowed his eyes at the doorway, "I don't want to be normal Sirius!" he called back in a bit of a whining tone, "I like being a weird nine year old wizard who shakes with the wrong hand and goes cross-eyed when introduced to proper wizarding society citizens!"
Croy sighed, remembering vaguely that he had only wanted to be normal for most of his life growing up. He supposed then, that being normal meant that one didn't want to be. He found it all a bit ironic and tried not to think about it less he fall into a depression or something. Harry's life was very different as a child from his own. But that was the point.
Croy ushered Harry out of the room with his cane, sending a warning look towards the ghost and following the boy down the hallway into the living room. Sirius had seated Dumbledore and a full-service tea set was already on the coffee table. Croy could see Dumbledore's amusement clearly, and Sirius was grinning.
"Headmaster, this is Liam Croyus-Black," Sirius introduced, "And Croy, I think you know that this old man is Hogwarts' Headmaster Albus Dumbledore already."
Croy nodded, switching his cane to his left hand and shaking Dumbledore's hand firmly as the man rose to his feet.
"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Croyus-Black."
"Just Croyus, please." Croy said, "I don't need reminding of my relation to this fool any more than necessary."
Albus chuckled, both of them ignoring Sirius's harumph, "As you wish, Mr. Croyus."
"And my godson, Harry Potter." Sirius said with a smirk, ruffling Harry's hair and dodging the boy's swing at his arm.
"Nice to meet you, sir." Harry said, offering his left hand to shake and crossing his eyes at the old man.
Albus didn't even blink, taking Harry's hand with his own left and crossing his eyes back at the boy, smiling brightly and twinkling at him over his glasses.
"The pleasure is mine, young Mr. Potter."
Sirius laughed, and Croy just shook his head at them all as he lowered himself into a wing-backed chair. Riddle shifted, flying up to perch on the back of the chair over his head as Croy hooked his cane over the armrest.
"I am sorry that my wife isn't here, Headmaster." Croy said, eyeing the man from his chair. "I would have liked her to have met you."
"Next time I stop by, I'll make sure to send an owl beforehand." Dumbledore said with a slightly contrite look. Croy held in his sigh. At least the man understood his irritation at the unexpected visit.
The others took seats as well, and Harry offered to poor the tea, proving that he had some semblance of hospitable manners in him, despite Sirius and the ghost's attempts at otherwise.
"How's Hogwarts, Headmaster?" Sirius asked, dumping sugar into his tea at a rate that always made Croy sick to think about.
"Very well," Albus replied, "We'll have two new Professors for the next fall term, both our Professors of Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts will be leaving us this spring."
"Sluggy's going away, is he?" Sirius said with a grin.
"Indeed, Professor Slughorn has decided to retire to his solitude." Albus said, not bothering to reprimand Sirius about the nick-name. "And once again I must find another teacher for Defense, and my Magical Creatures Professor is threatening his retirement soon as well, though I do not blame him. It is difficult to teach with only one arm."
"Tough luck, that." Sirius said.
"Why is the Defense Professor leaving?" Harry asked, looking between Sirius and the Headmaster.
Albus smiled over at him, "The position seems to be under a bit of a curse. I can't seem to keep a Professor in the classroom for more than a year."
Croy knew that this was very much the truth, though whether the position was actually cursed with magic was skeptical, the DADA Professorship would cycle through a new teacher every year until after he had left the school himself. By that time it didn't matter much. Croy let the vague memories slip back into the mist of his mind not wanting to pull them out in front of either Albus or Harry. When he tugged one of his old memories into his consciousness, the rest tended to come with it in a cascading effect of raw emotions and turbulent magics. He preferred to leave well enough alone usually.
"Why don't you teach it, Sirius?" Harry asked, turning his wide green eyes to his godfather.
Sirius nearly jumped out of his chair, and Croy watched him with open amusement as the man spilled half his tea into his lap with a curse in Russian – something he had picked up from Croy.
"What?!" Sirius yelled, looking considerably upset, "I would never… Me? I… I'm a Marauder!"
Croy laughed, his long-honed quietness translating into the sounds of his laughter. Harry and Albus both joined him. Croy found it incredibly funny. Sirius would never consider teaching, especially at Hogwarts. It would go against everything that a Marauder should be, according to his definition of the role.
Sirius stared at the three of them, still slightly panicked at the thought of even thinking about being a Professor, before settling glinting eyes on Croy. Croy narrowed his own slightly in return, recognizing the look for the trouble that it would undoubtedly cause him.
"Croy could do it, you know." Sirius said, pointing a finger at him and leaning conspiratorially towards Albus. "He'd probably be bloody good at it too."
"Oh?" the Headmaster turned blue eyes to him and Croy silently promised Sirius much pain. "Do you know Defense Against the Dark Arts, Mr. Croyus?"
Croy nodded, "Well enough, though and I'm afraid I already have a job, Headmaster."
Sirius snorted. "You're a freelance Curse-Breaker, Croy, you could teach at Hogwarts and still find time to fiddle with all that crazy cursed crap you and Harry bring home from Razili's."
Croy scowled at him, tapping his empty teacup against the top of his cane lightly in irritation. He would freely admit that he took on enough Curse-Breaker jobs to call himself one, but that was hardly what he did most of the time.
"Sam?" Harry asked, looking between his two uncles. "The bloke that owns Razili's Pawns?"
"That's the one." Sirius said.
"Mr. Razili." Croy corrected automatically, though he knew that Samuel Razili had told Harry to call him 'just Sam' on more than one occasion that the boy had snuck into the dusty, wizarding pawn-shop. Croy personally thought it a bit too dangerous for a kid to be wandering around in, but neither Sirius or Samuel – or Harry for that matter – agreed with him.
"And you retested for your British Mastership seven years ago." Sirius added with a smirk. Croy glared at him. "And received it with high honors, as I recall."
"They were easily impressed." Croy muttered darkly, plotting painful paybacks for his godfather.
"Retested?" Harry asked.
"Croy, here, first got his Defense Mastery when he was twenty-one, back in Russia." Sirius said, pointing at Croy with a lofty wave of his hand. "But it didn't transfer over or something so he got the British equivalent as well."
"It was more a renewel, than a true testing." Croy said. "The Ministry here at least honored the fact that I held the certifications, even if they don't like Russia's take on the subject. They simply allowed for me to face the testing as a ten-year certification renewel." He didn't really like telling the world about the two Masterships. A Defense Mastery was a bit different between the two countries. While he didn't mind so much letting people know of his British certifications – indeed, it had been posted in the Prophet due to his young age of twenty-nine – letting people in on his Russian equivalents was a bit more telling. The Russian tests were more trying and the failure rate was huge, resulting in a far more rare and prestigious certification, something that Dumbledore no doubt was aware of.
"The subject is treated differently in Russia than it is here." Albus said. "May I ask, Mr. Croyus, how old you are?"
"Thirty-six." Croy stated.
"You are a bit young to have received a Defense Mastery. It is arguably the most difficult Mastery to receive." Albus said. "And yet you received the Russian Defense Mastery at twenty-one?"
Croy could see that Albus was obviously impressed, which struck an odd chord in him. It wasn't every day that one saw Albus Dumbledore impressed or surprised. Croy briefly wondered if Albus would be wary of him because of his extremely young age at gaining his Defense Mastery. Snape may have been an impressively young Potions Master, but the amount of Defense Masters around was very few. Master certifications always involved hands-on experience in tandem with a person's more academic knowledge. Professors of the subject were more typically of Novice level rather than Master. Croy refused to admit even to Sirius how close he was to by-passing Master and reaching Adept, a rank that has never been recorded being given to someone younger than fifty.
"I would certainly like to consider you for the position, Mr. Croyus" Albus said, causing Croy to lock wary eyes with the Headmaster, "It is becoming increasingly difficult to find a decent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and we haven't had the privilege to employ a Defense Master in nearly eighty years. It is really quite a shame for the students."
Croy knew that tactic. Albus had used it on him the first time around more than he cared to recall. The biggest problem Croy had with it was that it usually worked.
"I'll consider the option, Headmaster." Croy said, making his hand stop tapping the teacup on his cane.
"Wonderful!"
'He might as well give you the position now.' Riddle said in his head, the bird's amusement obvious. Croy held in a sigh, and didn't answer the raven. He had no intention of letting Albus think he would walk into the DADA Professorship so easily, just because Sirius used him as a scapegoat. Croy was determined to at least make Dumbledore work for it a bit.
"That would be cool." Harry piped up, grinning at him. Croy gave him a look, not bothering to respond, and deftly ignoring Sirius' chuckles across from him.
"I am curious, Mr. Croyus." Dumbledore said through his amusement, "Why do you carry a cane? Most injuries can be corrected with Magical Medicine."
Croy glanced down at the dark wood cane under his right hand. It was well worn after eight years of use. It wasn't the same as the one he had used before the end of the war, but he had a hard time recalling what his old one looked like most of the time. He didn't forget the reason why he needed it though.
He palmed the cane, feeling the warm wood under his fingers and tapped it against his right leg sharply. A muted clang echoed into the room, and Croy glanced up at Albus from the corner of his eyes. The Headmaster looked a bit surprised that he wore a metal brace on his leg. Such a thing was rare in the wizarding world.
"What ever happened?" Albus asked, his curiosity clear and honest. Croy didn't mind the curiosity so long as it didn't come along with anything malicious. He had learned to be cautious with giving out information. Too often it had been used against him. Either way, he still trusted the old man.
"A beater's bat." Croy said. "Shattered the bones and severed the tendons. It wasn't looked at soon enough, and the medi-wizards were unable to repair the damage."
"I am sorry." Albus said, then smiled softly, "You played Quidditch, then?"
Croy nodded. "Seeker and occasionally Beater."
"Ah, are you able to still fly?"
"Yes, with only minor limitations. It's being on the ground that's difficult." Croy said a bit wryly.
Albus chuckled. Croy smiled in response, letting the man deduce that the injury had been while he was on a broom playing Quidditch. In reality his shattered leg had been caused by a beater's bat, but he had not been on a broom, he had been chained to a table in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, and it was no Quidditch Beater that held the bat in his hands. Croy had been in their clutches for nearly three months and by that point, his leg was beyond repair. He would never walk without the aid of a full support brace and a cane. His leg simply could not take the weight of his slight body. Skelegro could only repair so much. There simply had been too much damage and too much time before treatment.
Croy returned the cane to the armrest, rubbing a bit absently at the strap around his thigh from the brace. It covered his leg from the middle of his thigh down to the arch of his foot. It was designed to allow his leg to bend while fully supporting him as he walked or stood. It was the only thing that magic could do to help him at that point. That and mild pain-reliever potions for when it rained and his bones began to ache.
"So, Sirius," Albus said, "You brought young Mr. Potter here into your family."
Sirius grinned at him, "You bet. He's my own little Potter-Black now." Sirius said, laying a heavy hand on the top of Harry's head and mussing his hair again.
"Oy, gerrof!" Harry said, swatting as his godfather.
Croy watched the conversation silently. Sirius, as the Lord Black, named both Harry and Croy as honorary members of the Black family, which gave them their hyphenated Black names. Neither Croy nor Harry typically introduced themselves with the Black name, but they were as much Black as they were Potter or Croyus. Every once in a while Sirius just enjoyed reminded them all that they were a family.
oooOoooOoooOooo
Croy waited for the Thestrals pulling the carriages in silence, leaning on his cane and listening idly to Riddle's comments in his head. He could hear Hagrid whistling from the forest behind him, and the faint scent of raw meat drifted towards him from the direction of the Groundskeeper. The bird sat on his shoulder as per usual, again degrading Croy's choice to accept the position as Professor. They had had the same conversation multiple times before.
'Stuck with the monsters for the next nine months.' Riddle said darkly in his head. 'You're a bloody idiot, you know.'
"Thank you, Riddle." Croy said dryly, "And they aren't that bad."
'Children? Not that bad? Are you mad?'
Croy grunted, eyeing the carriages as they rounded the bend of the lake, "You like Laurence and Harry."
'Laurence is a fledgling.' Riddle said tartly in his head, 'And Harry is different.'
The skeletal creatures tossed their heads as they paused long enough to let their passengers out of the carriages and continue around the grounds to where Croy waited for them near the carriage house. The students barely looked back as they climbed the stairs and went through the main doors. Their voices floated over the grounds, muffled by the distance.
"Harry is the same sort of child as all the Weasley's are." Croy said to the bird.
'Completely different.' Riddle said. 'How can you not see that?'
"I don't see a difference." Croy said turning his attentions to unharnessing the Thestrels as the first carriage neared him. Riddle gave up the argument as Croy unbuckled the leather straps, patting the creature on its flanks. The Thestrel turned its head to look at him before trotting away towards the forest, ruffling its wings. Hagrid met the creature within the tree line, tossing it a chunk of red meat. Croy pulled his wand and directed the empty carriage to its place in the barn.
It didn't take him long to free the Thestrels. Taking a second look around the grounds to make sure there wasn't a straggler, Croy locked the carriage house doors. A few Thestrels waiting at the forest's edge called to him before turning into the trees. Hagrid waved him on, his large form in the midst of the herd of skeletal creatures. Croy watched them for a moment and turned to the castle. Riddle ruffled his feathers as he began to walk, using his cane as he steadily limped across the length of the castle grounds towards the castle and the feast inside.
Croy had taken the teaching job at Hogwarts, much to Riddle's ire and Sirius' amusement. Croy had hexed his godfather at the time in attempt to silence the man while he fire-called the Headmaster.
Croy entered Hogwarts the first time as a Professor the fall after Harry turned nine. He was one of two new professors that term, and found himself on par with a younger, newly crowned Potions Master; Snape. Croy found it incredibly odd to sit at staff meetings with a man who had impacted his first life so much growing up, to find Snape nearly a decade younger than himself.
The sudden, noisy sounds of the students broke through his thoughts as he entered the castle. Croy eyed the mass of pointy black hats from the doorway for a moment, ignoring Riddle's scathing insults about the noise of the children. He found the four Weasley's quickly, all of them seated at the Gryffindor table. The twins had just been sorted and the hat was already gone. Croy noticed that the Headmaster was trying to get the students' attention, and the hall slowly quieted.
'You do know that you're in trouble, right?' Riddle said to him. Croy didn't respond. 'Those two brats are going to give you a run for you money.'
Croy didn't disagree. The twins seemed a bit more daring to him than he had expected. With them knowing him for the past four years, Croy knew that the Weasley twins would be targeting him and his classes.
'Snape is glaring at you again.' Riddle said.
Croy again didn't respond, but became aware of the glare that the dark-haired man was directing at him from the head table. Croy simply watched as the Headmaster got the attention of the student body and started in on the announcements.
"Welcome, welcome," Dumbledore said, the candlelight flickering in his beard, "To another year at Hogwarts. I have some announcements to make, and I think that I will get them out of the way before we all become befuddled with our wonderful feast."
'He's barmy, you know.' Riddle commented. Croy could hear the dry tone in the bird's voice within his head. He sighed, rather agreeing with the raven.
"We have two new Professors joining us this year," Dumbledore continued jovially, "It is a great honor for me to welcome Defense Master Liam Croyus-Black, who has graciously agreed to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts for this year, and with much hope for the years to come."
Croy entered the hall at the Headmaster's urging, giving him a look as he made his way down the length of the Great Hall. The Weasley twins were on their feet, whistling at him and clapping loudly, causing Percy to blush and attempt to make them sit back down, though his efforts were soundly ignored. Charlie was laughing at his brothers, and gave Croy a thumbs up.
Croy shook his head slightly as he took his seat between Snape and Kettleburn, using the arms of his chair to lower himself without his leg complaining for the weight. Riddle ruffled his feathers and shifted to perch on the back of the chair.
Kettleburn gave him a thankful nod, which Croy returned. He had agreed to aid with the Thestrals, letting Kettleburn sit the feast. Croy didn't mind, it gave him more time away from the scowling Snape seated next to him.
"Our second new appointment is Potions Master Severus Snape," Dumbledore continued, motioning towards the man next to Croy, "Professor Snape has also accepted the responsibilities and duties as the Head of Slytherin, after Professor Slughorn. As a Slytherin Prefect during his days as a student, he is well suited for the post."
Croy noticed the solid response from the Slytherin students, and the barely polite applause coming from the Gryffindor table. Snape rose stiffly, glared at the students, and seated himself barely a moment later.
Croy had a tendril of memory come from the depths of his mind, from his first timeline, of Snape's glares in multiple scenarios. He was somewhat comforted in that some things hadn't changed.
He relished in the changes, and feared them. He feared that he would not be able to protect Harry if things deviated from his life as Harry Potter too much. He would not be able to predict things if they all got to be too different, and yet already things were drastically different than the memories that he could reach of his other life. He wondered, how much more things would change in the years to come. Harry would receive his Hogwarts letter in two years, and attend Hogwarts knowing exactly who, and what he was, with the full support of his two uncles, one of which had lived his life before.
Croy couldn't help but be worried about the deviations, and the future. He knew some of the things that were going to come, and he feared for Harry. Yet he desperately held on to the hope that things would be different; they already were.
oooOoooOoooOooo
Author's Note: The entire Riddle Me This world was created around that scene where Croy (Harry-from-the-future) was seated on his balcony looking down at Albus Dumbledore. Funny how stories like this get out of hand from such a simple scene…