Binding
The room was just as he had remembered it. Perhaps the items that littered the room were different, but the clutter and disarray were the same. Dudley's second bedroom was still filled with his cast-off toys. Harry could see the computer that had once been the crowning piece in Dudley's bedroom sitting in a heap in one of the corners. He realized that he couldn't remember if it had been broken before or after he had left.
Harry had always known that a trip back to Earth would include a trip back to his once home in Surrey. He was not sure if there was something left undone or unsaid, or if there was something that he had perhaps left behind. Whatever it was, he supposed that it was a part of the reason why he had always been reticent to come back to Earth. Not knowing about this magic suppressor, his safety had always been nearly assured by his ability to bring the Tar'Chell along. However, with the world saved and a clean bill of health from Doctor Frasier, he decided that there was nothing keeping him from making the trip anymore.
Harry took a deep breath and walked over to the door. It was nearly five thirty in the afternoon, so he expected both his aunt and uncle were home. Walking down the stairs, his supposition was confirmed when he heard them talking in the kitchen. He walked up to the kitchen door and stopped, mentally checking to make sure that he really wanted to go in before he opened the door.
His relatives stopped their conversation as the door swung open. Harry noted that Dudley didn't seem to be in the house, and was probably at a friend's. Harry had his aunt and uncle to himself. They had both become quite pale suddenly.
"You!" his aunt exclaimed in a shocked whisper.
"Hello Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon."
His uncle finally spoke. "What in the bloody blue blazes are you doing here, boy?!"
"Vernon!" his aunt scolded. Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise at her reaction.
"That boy put me in jail for five months," the man said in a barely restrained voice. "I don't want him in this house for one minute!"
"Vernon, what if the police found out that we had put him out on the street?"
"You went to jail? Seriously?"
His aunt finally glowered at him, and said as evenly as possible, "Apparently it is illegal in this country to confine a child in a space as small as your room. The authorities were displeased to find your it."
"Right," said Harry. He hadn't been aware of that fact. Though considering that no one had listened to him when he had told them about it before, he didn't see how the information would have changed anything. "Anyway, you don't have to worry about me staying, Uncle. I don't plan on being here long. I suppose that, well, you should know that I'm never coming back here, but I am safe… you don't really care about anything past that I'm not coming back, I guess. Um, I don't suppose any of my stuff is still here?"
"Why would we have kept it?" asked his aunt with a sniff, "We binned everything that the police didn't take as evidence." She sniffed again at that, probably still ruffled by the fact that they had been involved with the police in any way.
"I guess that that's it then," said Harry, wondering if anything had been accomplished by coming. It was a little rewarding, he supposed, to learn that his uncle had spent time in prison, even if only for a portion of his crimes. He had a sudden thought.
"What about my parents. Is there anything you haven't told me about them?"
His aunt huffed once more, and Harry could tell that she was nearing the end of her hold on her temper, and with it would come her hold over her husband's. "I barely knew your mother in the end, and I never knew your father, boy. All you need to know is what we told you. They died in a crash."
"Yeah," said Harry, "but I know that that's not true. I've been shown a report that says that they were both murdered in their home. I also know that I'm special, I have abilities. I think that my parents had them too, and I think you know about them."
Now his aunt was really glaring at him with everything that she had. His uncle stormed to the other side of the kitchen, as though to be as far from the conversation as possible. Though he too was looking at Harry as though he was wishing for the days when disciplining him had necessitated keeping him out of school for a few days.
His aunt finally spoke. "Yes. They had an… unnaturalness… about them; that gave them 'abilities'. You think you're special," she said with scorn. A knocking could be heard from the front door, but they all ignored it. "You're a freak, and we've always known it. Did you think that we couldn't see your pitiful attempts to make us like you? Make us love you. We saw them; we knew what you were doing. But what good, normal person could love a thing like you? You say that you're not staying? Well good. Leave us, and for the first time in your miserable life, give us some peace."
Every word was calculated and sure. The worst part was that she never shouted as he was used to. He stood there stoically as she spoke, trying not to let it show that her words were affecting him, when in reality, each one had struck home. He was tempted to lash out with his powers, to pull the house down on their heads, and burry them in rubble. He told himself though that they weren't worth it. He spat on his aunt's immaculate floor instead. Even as he was opening a micro-wormhole to leave, he wasn't sure that he believed himself.
Harry reappeared in his bedroom aboard the Tar'Chell. He took a couple of deep breaths, but gave up on that and punched the wall hard enough to put hairline fractures in a few of the bones in his hand. He waved it around.
"Damn it!" he swore.
He turned and sunk down against the wall, coming to rest on the ground cradling his injured hand and breathing hard. His aunt had had him pegged, he thought, he really had been pathetic back then. A poor orphan boy doing whatever he could to get through life without curling up in despair. But he was sure that he hadn't been the freak in that house. Big deal if he had abilities, they were the criminals.
He stood up, using his good hand for support, though his healing abilities were already going to work on his broken bones. He headed into the control room to consult the map of the world that he had been provided. It really was time he took a vacation.
!
Sam opened her eyes and caught the rare glimpse of morning sunlight streaming through her bedroom window. She was normally awake by six o'clock, but having had next to no sleep for the last few days, she though that she deserved a lie in after having helped to save the world. A glance at her clock showed that it was getting close to eleven. She smiled in guilty pleasure.
Her attention turned to what had originally woken her, the blaring telephone next to her bed. She picked it up.
"Samantha Carter," she said as way of greeting.
"Sam!" Harry's young voice surprised her. It was like seeing the General go in to watch the same movie you were going to, or bumping into your history teacher on the street. That Harry would call her on her home phone seemed surreal.
"Harry," she said, "I thought that you'd left."
"I had some business I had to attend to," he answered, somewhat evasively. "Anyway, I thought that it's time I took a little vacation, and I thought maybe you could join me for the day."
"Harry, I can't just leave the planet without clearance."
"Who said anything about leaving the planet? You won't even need your passport. How do sunny beaches and palm trees sound to you?"
Wow. When was the last time she had been to a beach without wearing BDUs and a tactical vest? "You know what, Harry? That actually sounds great."
"Cool," said Harry. "Um, do you know where Samuel's Donut Shop is?"
"Yeah," said Sam, "right next to the movie theatre?"
There was a pause at the other end. "Yeah."
"Alright, give me twenty minutes."
After calling in to the base she had initially gone into a packing frenzy before remembering that for a single day she could just buy anything she needed. She made sure she had her wallet and her phone before going to grab her camera. Two minutes later she was out the door.
She found Harry outside of the donut shop, standing by a pay phone. She found a shady spot to park in and got out to go greet him. He was grinning as she approached him, and wearing a relaxed Tollan outfit.
"Hey, Sam," he said.
"Hello, Harry," she replied. "I hadn't realized that Earth had made such an impression on you. How long are you planning on staying?"
"I'm not planning anything. I figure we can make a day of it, and then I'm back to fighting the war."
"Well, if a day's all I have you for, I might as well make the most of it," she said.
"Too right," he said. "How does Hawaii sound?" he asked.
"Hawaii," she said, surprised. "When you said sandy beaches and palm trees, I thought you were talking about California."
"Oh, well, I've never been to California."
"You've been to Hawaii?"
"Well no," said Harry. "But then, it is Hawaii."
Sam didn't have an argument for that.
"Come on," said Harry. "There's a sheltered door around back. I think it's an emergency exit to one of the theatres. If anyone sees us disappear into it, they'll just assume someone's letting us in through the back."
Less than a minute later they were in Kauai, the fourth largest of the islands. Sam looked around; the sun had barely made an appearance. She supposed that it was about seven o'clock in the morning here.
"Where are we?" she asked.
"We're a little ways into Waimea Canyon. It's even nicer than the pictures. I figured that no one would see us appear out of nowhere out here.
"Well," said Sam, "it looks like you were right."
"Ooh," said Harry. "I can see the ocean from here."
Sam turned to look where he was staring. The ocean was visible in the distance.
"I've never been to an ocean on Earth before," said Harry. "Isn't that funny? I've seen oceans on a number of planets, but never here."
"No?" asked Sam.
Harry shook his head. "My class once went to the beach for a field trip," he said, "but the Dursley's wouldn't sign my permission slip."
"Well," said Sam, "we'll be getting a closer look before the day is done."
"That's the plan. Right, so there's supposed to be a big town at the mouth of this river. It's a short walk from here.
After a little walking through the tropical wilderness they came to a road that followed the river and followed it into town, enjoying the cool and shady morning. A few cars were already going by in either direction at the early hour. Once they had reached the outskirts of the town, they were able to take a bus into the already bustling beach area.
"What should we do first?" asked Harry.
"Well," said Sam, "seeing as I haven't eaten anything in the past fourteen hours, my vote is for breakfast."
"Ooh," said Harry, "let's get pancakes."
"Harry, we're on vacation in Hawaii," said Sam. "You can't take a vacation and not sample the local cuisine."
"So what do we eat instead?" asked Harry.
"I don't know," said Sam. "Why don't we find a place that's open, and see what they suggest."
The first restaurant serving breakfast that they found recommended a dish called the Loco Moco. Sam ordered two. It turned out to be two hamburger patties on a bed of steamed rice, topped with fried eggs and gravy.
"It's tasty, I guess," said Harry around a bite of hamburger. "Though I'm not sure that it feels very Hawaiian."
"Well," said Sam, "you can tell that there are different cultural influences in the food, and I guess that's what Hawaii is."
"You sound like Daniel," Harry commented.
After breakfast, they decided that they needed to do a little shopping for the day.
"Sunscreen definitely," said Sam.
"I'm immune to the sun," said Harry.
Sam replied, "Well I, like the rest of your fair skinned brethren, must hide from the sun. We'll need swimsuits too."
"Oh," said Harry, "well you can go swimming, but I don't know how to."
"You don't know how to swim?" asked Sam.
Harry shook his head. "The Dursleys never got me lessons. Probably hoped that I'd drown one day."
"Sure," said Sam, "but you have the combined knowledge of at least three symbiotes."
"They all had host's that came from the desert, and recreational sports aren't exactly big on the list for fun goa'uld activities."
"You're saying that in their thousands of years they never swam?"
Harry shrugged. "What can I say? They're goa'uld."
"Okay. You're still getting a suit though. You are not leaving this island without learning how to swim. I'm sure that you're a fast learner."
"Er, alright. I suppose it couldn't hurt to try," said Harry.
Fifteen minutes later, Harry was walking out of a fitting room, tugging at the nylon fabric of the swimming trunks that he was wearing. He approached Sam.
"Hey Harry, how is it," she asked.
"I don't know. There's this weird mesh material on the inside. Do you know what it's for?"
"No clue," answered Sam. "I think all the trunks have them though. If it bother's you, I'm sure you could try a Speedo."
A mental image of himself wearing nothing but a form-fitting swimsuit flashed through his mind, and Harry shook his head quickly. "This is fine," he said.
They asked around and found a public swimming pool on the outskirts of town. They had both thought that it would be a good idea for Harry to learn to swim in standing water, rather than in the river or the ocean. Sam started by teaching him to float, which was harder than Harry would have thought. It didn't help that his heavy golden hand device was weighing him down on one side. They gave up on floating in favor of treading water, which Harry found to be much easier than floating.
Fortunately Harry was still a quick learner and it wasn't long before he had the front stroke and the backstroke down. Their task complete, they made their way to the beach, since one does not spend their time in Hawaii in a swimming pool.
His feet sinking into the sand, Harry turned to Sam and said, "Okay, I've learned how to swim. Now we're not leaving the island until we make a sand castle."
They crammed as much into their one day of vacation as they could. They relaxed on the beach, sampled more of the local cuisine, and ended their day with a trek back into the canyon. There was supposed to be a nice spot to watch the sun set over Ni'ihau Island in the distance.
Sam spoke up as they sat on the stone outcropping, waiting for the sun to reach the horizon. "So this was a spontaneous vacation, huh?"
"Yeah," said Harry, "I was just going to leave, but I figured that I'd always wanted to come here, so why not."
"Plus, you had that business before."
"Right," said Harry.
"So how were the Dursleys?"
"What makes you think that I saw the Dursleys?" asked Harry defensively.
"Well," said Sam, "all things considered, they're the only bit of unfinished business I can think of that you would have here on Earth. Plus, you confirmed it when you avoided the question."
Harry sighed. "You know, my uncle went to jail for a few months over me."
Sam nodded. "I'd heard about that."
"You never mentioned," Harry accused her.
"You never asked," was the obvious and overused response.
"I probably didn't want to know, I guess," said Harry. "I wonder if he managed to get his job back."
"He did," said Sam. "I guess he's good at it."
"What else do you know?" asked Harry.
"Not much," said Sam. "Your aunt got off with a fine, and she got to stay home to care for your cousin."
"I figured," said Harry. "Better than they deserved, I think. You know, I never knew that it was against the law for them to keep me under the stairs."
"I'm pretty sure that it's a fairly standard law in most civilized countries," said Sam.
"Yeah, well, they got off easy, I think," said Harry.
Sam paused. "You know, we always figured the odds were that it was probably worse than just the cupboard."
Harry shrugged. "It wasn't so terrible. I mean, I got through it."
"Yeah," said Sam. "So how did the visit go?"
"It wasn't a visit," said Harry. "The Dursley's were just… a loose end." He answered her question. "My aunt admitted that my parents were murdered, and that they were like me."
"Anything else?" asked Sam.
"No," said Harry. "I didn't stick around. They didn't want me there."
"Things didn't go too well?" asked Sam.
Harry paused before answering. "You know, I've fought in major battles, I know things that could warp their minds, I could destroy that house and everything in it. But she can destroy me, you know? Verbally, I mean. And I don't have anything to say to her." He shook his head. "I always thought that I'd hate my Uncle more."
"What did she say?" asked Sam.
"The words unlovable and freak may have been used."
"Well," said Sam, "she couldn't have been further from the truth."
Harry laid his head on her arm.
She continued. "And what does freak mean, if not 'better than she'll ever be'."
"I like that," said Harry.
"Well, good. Nice sunset, huh?"
"Yeah."
!
It was his hand device that woke him; he had an urgent communication being relayed from the Tar'Chell. It was a video message, but Harry set the ship's computer to convert the speech into text before reading it through his mental connection with the hand device. He groaned and opened his eyes.
A wide field of stars greeted him, lacking most of the light pollution that he had grown up with in Surrey. He and Sam had fallen asleep stargazing. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, before waking Sam next to him.
"Mm, what time is it?" she asked.
"Almost midnight," he answered. "I just got a message from Tollana, they need me there as soon as possible. Did you guys finish installing the Tollan gate?" A day after the gate had exploded, the Tollans had sent a ship to Earth with a Tollan made gate.
"They were still running diagnostics on the gate when I left, but it should be working by now," said Sam.
Harry nodded. "I take it you want to come with me?" he asked, on the off chance that she wanted to remain on the island.
"I wouldn't say that I want to," she replied, "but they're expecting me in the morning."
"Okay," said Harry. "It's almost seven there now, actually. Sorry about the jet lag."
"No more than I'm used to," said Sam.
Harry took her hand and their matter streams disappeared into hyperspace. Ten minutes later, he was walking through the Tollan Stargate, after having remotely sent his ship on ahead. He was greeted by a lieutenant, who gestured for him to stand with him beside the gate. He introduced himself as Jarril. The gate began dialing again once the event horizon had dissipated.
"Where are we going?" asked Harry.
"To our drop world." That was what the Tollans called the world that unauthorized travelers were relayed to.
"Is there someone there you want me to meet?" asked Harry.
"That depends on whether his life can be saved."
Harry nodded. Early on in the war, it had become evident that while the Tollan security system prevented any attack on the world via the Stargate, it also prevented injured allies from gating to help, should they try to gate to Tollana without the proper signal. There had been such an incident where a lethally wounded Jaffa had died upon being sent to the other planet. Since then, a medical team had been stationed there, deep underground and accessible only through a hidden transport pad.
"One of our allies?" asked Harry.
The lieutenant shook his head. "We do not know who he is, though he seems to know you. What we do know is that he seems to have been attacked by the same energy that you use. We have been unable to remove it, only to halt it's progress. We have been forced to shut down all of the patient's brain function to keep him alive."
"Tell me more," said Harry.
"That is all that I know," said the Lieutenant. "He was of course cleared for all forms of traps from the goa'uld before the healers were able to approach him. They will have more information for you. I believe that it is their hope that you will be able to dissipate this energy."
"I will do what I can," said Harry, intrigued by the evidence that there could be someone else like him out there.
They stepped through the active gate and in what seemed an instant they were standing on another world. They stepped out on a stone platform before a grassy field, much like the one on Tollana. In the distance, he could see the holographic facsimile of the new Tollan capitol. The point being that if an unknown person gated to the world without being aware of the switch, that they could be observed for a time without becoming immediately aware of the duplicity.
Upon his arrival, Harry became faintly aware of being scanned from multiple points. His identity confirmed, one man appeared a short distance away from a hidden transport pad. Harry and Jarril walked over to him.
"Captain Potter, Lieutenant," the man greeted them. "I am Lannar, one of the Healers stationed here. It is a pleasure to meet you."
"And you as well," Harry replied.
The man beckoned the two of them to stand nearer him, and they disappeared once more, reappearing once again with the faint smell of ozone in the medical complex, which was obviously of Tok'ra design. While Tollan technology was still vastly superior to most goa'uld technology, Tok'ra crystals were still the easiest way to build anything deep under ground.
"What can you tell me?" Harry asked the Healer.
"There are two energy matrices on the man similar to the energy that you yourself use. The one on his leg has caused an odd injury, though for now it will have to wait. The energy centered within the patient's skull is assaulting his mind in a most peculiar way. It began by completely erasing his life's memories, his knowledge of his life and past events. He was able to halt its progress only by keeping as much information as he could in the forefront of his mind."
"What was that?" asked Harry.
"He kept repeating the same thing. 'I have to protect Harry. I need to find my godson.' Being that you are the only Harry on Tollana, this has of course led us to believe that the man believes himself to be your godfather."
"How could he be?" asked Harry. "If he's from Earth, the SGC certainly never let him use the Stargate."
"We did analyze his voice," said Lannar. "His accent does closely match your own."
"Does Earth not have two Stargates?" asked Jarril.
Harry had forgotten that the officer was still there and looked at him in surprise.
"All officers are trained to know about the allies and enemies of Tollana," the man said simply.
Harry nodded. "As I recall, Russia is in possession of a Stargate, and a dialing device. It does not explain how he could have known to gate to Tollana." He shook his head; it would have to be a mystery for another time. "You were saying, Lannar?"
The man nodded. "For so long as the patient held this information in his conscious mind, the energy matrix seemed to be at a standstill. We deduced that the energy could dissipate if we suppressed the parts of his brain that it was attacking and we did so, only for the energy to move on to his lexical memories, his knowledge. We suppressed that part of his mind and it moved on to attack the limbic system, emotional processing and memory. We reacted more quickly that time, and in this manner it moved from there to his higher motor functions, and then finally to his brain stem, where it attempted to kill him. His entire mind is now suppressed but the energy remains, as though waiting for the mind to become active once again, and we do not feel comfortable with any plan we can think of to remove it."
Harry was entirely perplexed. He could think of no way to manipulate zero point energy and exotic particles in such a way to do anything like this. Lannar described the energy as though it were alive.
"Who would use something like this?" asked Jarril.
Lannar answered, "Presumably, someone who wanted no chance of the victim's mind being revived after death."
"Or someone who wanted to kill a man as cruelly as possible," said Harry, "stripping his identity from him, piece by piece before death."
Lannar cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Another possibility."
"And I suppose you want me to try to remove it?" asked Harry.
The healer nodded. "If you can."
"Take me to him," said Harry.
They went into a large room with a dozen medical beds, all equipped with their own scanners and tools. The patient was laid out on the one nearest to the door-less entryway. The other Healer was still attending to him.
"Captain Potter," the man greeted him. "I assume that you are willing to help?"
Harry nodded. "Is there any more data that you can give me on the energy matrix?"
The Healer nodded and activated a holographic projector, which displayed both a three dimensional representation of the matrix and a read out of pertinent data. Harry took in as much of it as he could, though it was terribly complex. He nodded.
"I will need to make a more direct observation of the matrix," he said.
"Go ahead," said the Healer.
Harry approached the patient, for the first time taking in the man's appearance. He was tall and thin, with long black hair. It was obvious that the years had not been kind to him. He matched Sam's description of the man who had rescued her aboard the Prometheus. He wondered if the man could truly be his godfather. He sent out his energy tentatively, trying to get a feel for the matrix within the man's mind.
In a way, it was like the feel of Anubis's possession of his body. There was the same sense of darkness and a tangible feeling of malice that accompanied the energy. Harry got the feeling that the man had not come to be in this state by accident.
It was a while before Harry thought that he had a feel for the energy, enough to try to separate it from the man's mind and then neutralize the energy. He didn't get very far before it leapt out at him, latching onto him. Harry fell back in shock, even as he was marshaling his defenses against the energy.
He could hear shouting from above him, but Harry tuned out the rest of the world as he did his best to keep the energy from actually latching onto his mind. The matrix really did seem to be alive as it struck at him again and again, trying to get past his defenses and into his mind. Distantly, he was aware of his body being picked up and placed on one of the beds, but his attention remained on the attack. Finally, a tendril of energy managed to slip past him, and it latched onto his brain, drawing the rest along with it. It was pain almost as bad as what Harry remembered from Isis, but he kept fighting the energy, keeping it from having a chance to destroy any of his own memories.
Suddenly, he heard a voice from within his own mind.
'What a nasty curse. Now what to do about it?'
There was no apparent source for the voice, nor a presence like that of Anubis or a parasite. Harry didn't have time to ponder the voice though, as he could feel himself losing the battle against the energy. Suddenly though, everything stopped. The energy remained, settled within his mind, but it was frozen.
'That's better,' said the voice. 'Now to get rid of it…'
Harry didn't waste any time before assaulting the now inert energy, neutralizing the different energy fields and dissipating the exotic particles.
'Well, that is interesting,' said the voice. 'I suppose we can wait to speak in the real world.'
Harry was left in silence. It took him a while, but he was able to remove all traces of the energy. A curse, the voice had called it. Harry opened his eyes finally to take in the world around him.
The man who had initially been the patient was sitting on the bed across from him, the lieutenant looking over him, while the two healers were hovering over him.
"All better now?" asked the man, using the same voice as the one from his head.
Harry nodded wearily, his head pounding. "They woke you up, I see."
"We did not," said Lannar.
"It was I," explained Jarril. "When it became apparent that the only thing that they knew to do was to suppress your mind as they had his, I decided that his input could be valuable, now that his own mind was free. It proved to be the correct decision."
"We did not authorize that," said the other healer. Jarril remained unapologetic.
"I don't suppose that you know what's going on," asked the man, looking around with a lost look on his face, "because these blokes won't say anything."
"You're British," said Harry. Aside from the Dursley's earlier that day, he had not heard his native tongue but from his own mouth since his abduction.
"That I am," said the man, "allow me to guess, I'm good with accents, "you're from the London area, but not the city itself."
"Surrey," Harry nodded.
The man looked around. "I don't suppose we're in Surrey," said the man "this doesn't seem to be like any hospital I've ever been in, muggle or magical. And I certainly can't place their accents. They aren't American, are they?" Harry shook his head. "What's your name, by the way?"
"Harry," said Harry.
"Harry?" asked the man, taken by surprise. "Harry Potter?" he asked again, as though he did not dare to hope that it was true.
Harry nodded.
"I've been looking for you for so long. I can't tell you how good it is to have found you at last." The man shook his head wistfully. "It's so strange. I know I've never seen you before, but your face is so familiar."
Harry nodded slowly. The part of the man's mind that recognized faces would have nothing to compare his face to, but if Harry looked anything like his parents, and if this man was his godfather, then Harry's features could still hold a measure of emotional valence with the man.
"How long has it been, exactly?" Harry asked tentatively.
"I um… I can't say, I suppose," said the man contemplatively.
"Do you remember searching for me?" When the man didn't answer immediately, Harry continued. "Do you remember your name?"
It did not take long for the man's confusion to turn into panic. "I don't understand. What's going on, where am I?"
"Do you know who I am to you?" asked Harry carefully.
"You're my godson," the man replied with conviction.
"Then you knew my parents," said Harry, "do you remember them?"
The man searched for an answer, but eventually had to shake his head.
"The energy matrix you found around me, what you called a curse, it initially attacked you. It destroyed all of your memories. Everything from your past, everything you know about yourself. It's gone, and your doctors are pretty sure that they can't be recovered."
"That can't be," the man said. "I can remember things, I…" The man looked to the two healers who had up until then stood silently by Harry's bed. "Is it true? Is it all gone?"
"I am afraid so," said the Lannar nearest to the man. "The information is not repressed or blocked, it is simply gone. And it is not simply your memories; while the majority of your knowledge remains intact, a sizeable amount was destroyed before we could halt the progress of the energy matrix."
The man, whose name they might never learn, was becoming visibly upset. "Who did this to me?" he asked.
"We don't know," answered Harry, empathizing more and more with the man whose life had been completely destroyed. "All we know is that you came to this world through the Stargate, presumably trying to find me."
"Stargate? I don't understand, what do you mean this world?"
"I guess you don't remember. Perhaps more recent knowledge was attacked first, though I couldn't say for certain. The Stargate is an ancient device that allows nearly instantaneous travel between two worlds."
His godfather laughed bitterly. "There's no magic that could do that. Sure, the old magic is strong, but we have only ever dreamed about venturing to other planets."
"I never said anything about magic," said Harry. "It's technology, science. The universe is far more complex than you have ever had reason to believe. There are people out here, living on hundreds of planets. Now as best as I can tell, you discovered the Stargate program running in the States while you were looking for me. I know that you didn't come here through that gate though, so I'm guessing that you found the one in Russia."
"You think that I infiltrated Russia?" his godfather asked.
"That's what the evidence suggests," said Harry.
"No wonder I was cursed so badly," said his godfather. "I know, I remember, that you are very important to me. But you'd have to be mad to try to get through Russia, or desperate. They've been closed to the rest of the magical world since the end of the Cold War."
"Yes, well," said Harry, "as I understand things, this wasn't your first attempt at leaving the planet." He was dying to ask about this magical 'world', that his godfather kept mentioning, but knew that his personal curiosity could wait until later.
"Okay. So we're left with me as a blank slate on another planet." His godfather took a deep breath. "Do you know anything about me?" he asked. "Do you know what I'm missing? I mean, should I want to remember?"
"I'm sorry," said Harry. "The thing is that if you're my godfather, then you still haven't seen me since I was one and my parents died. My relatives, the people who raised me, didn't tell me anything about my parents. As to whether you should want to remember, well you told a friend of mine once that you had spent years in a place you called Hell on Earth. You can make of that what you will."
His godfather shook his head. "I don't know what to make of that." He sighed. "I must have known your parents pretty well, if they made me your godfather. How did they die?"
"They were murdered," said Harry. "That's all that I know."
"Murdered," the man croaked. "I'm sorry, that must be awful."
"Yeah," said Harry, "I guess it is."
"You know, I look at your face, and it isn't just that sense of familiarity, it's like I'm staring into my own childhood. Like you're from a moment in time when I didn't have a care in the world. And I'm trying to grasp that feeling, to hold onto it, but it keeps on slipping away. There's nothing there. Where do I go from here?"
"Well," said Harry, "you could do with a name."
"A name?"
"First things first," said Harry. "We'll sort out what we can, and leave the rest to work itself out, but I think that we should have something to call you in the meantime."
"Alright," said his godfather. "There is a way to find my name, a spell. But what is it?"
"How would that work?" asked Harry, intrigued.
"Your name is a part of you," said his godfather, "whether you know it or not." He was obviously deep in thought. "I should know this," he said, "I know that I know it."
Lannar spoke up. "It will not be so easy now, to remember how to do many things. The information may be there, but you won't always remember how to retrieve it. You may have to work out how this 'spell' could work, before you remember how it does work."
He nodded distractedly. "Let's see, blood is important… and the incantation. Um, dicum, nomen, appelloto. Appelloto Cruror!" The man reached into his jacket and pulled out a large quill. Harry couldn't see how the thing had been kept in such a nice condition considering where it was carried, but didn't worry about it. From another pocket, the man pulled out a small knife, held up the stick that he had been holding through the encounter, waved it at the knife and said, "Sanitarum," before waving it at his opposite hand and repeating the gesture. He made a small cut on the palm of his hand and dipped the quill into the small pool of blood that appeared, before laying it flat on the pillow at the head of his bed. Once again he waved his wand and muttered, "Appelloto Cruror." The quill suddenly stood up and wrote 'Sirius Black' on the pillow case.
"Sirius Black," said Sirius. "What do you think?"
"It's um, fine," said Harry. "How did you do that, exactly?" He was entirely perplexed.
"It's a simple blood spell," said Sirius, "any sufficiently skilled wizard could perform it, though I don't suppose that many would have the need."
"No," said Harry, "I mean how does it work? You don't know your name, there's nothing in your blood to indicate a name, so how does the pen know what to write?"
Sirius shrugged. "Everything's connected. It's one of the tenets of magic, one of the basic precepts of Transfiguration. My name has always been a part of me, and whether I know it or not, I'll still be able to search out that connection. Sirius," he repeated his name. "It feels right, I suppose. Enough talk of magic. If I can't find my memories for myself, then you will have to fill in what you know."
"Well," said Harry, "it's a long story."
!
The start of a new school year was always hectic, and Albus was often found in his office well through the evening. It was only two day's until the student's arrived, and Albus had only barely been able to find a replacement Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Yet in spite of all he had to do, the alarm that stole his attention from his work, though not expected, was not ill received. Harry Potter had returned to Privet Drive. Albus leapt up from his desk, making his way to the Floo.
When young Harry Potter had been abducted, Albus had placed wards around the house so that he would be alerted should the boy ever return on his own. Although Albus had never planned to interfere with the boy's life before Harry's first year at Hogwarts, given the circumstances, he could not simply trust that the boy was alright.
Throwing some powder into the Floo, Albus shouted out the address for Arabella Figg's house and stepped in. Mere seconds later he stepped out once more into the cat infested living room of the woman he had asked to watch Harry so long ago.
"Arabella," he called out.
The woman rushed down the stairs in a bathrobe, he hair in curlers. "Professor, what's happening?"
"It's Harry," explained Albus, "the wards around Privet Drive have alerted me to his presence. Have you heard anything about him being found?"
"No, Professor, I would have told you right away if I had. Do you think that he's come back on his own?" she asked.
"I don't know, my dear, though I do hope so." What he had seen in the memory of Vernon Dursley still troubled him. He was certain that the boy had been possessed, and could only hope that that was no longer the case.
"I will go to the Dursleys' house; I hope, to find good news," he told her.
"What are you going to do with the boy?" asked Arabella. "You certainly cannot leave him with the muggles again," she said.
"Unfortunately, the matter of the boy's custody will likely prove to be a complicated political matter. For now though, I must see to the boy's safety. I will return shortly."
Albus left the house at a brisk walk, not wanting to use any overt magic in the muggle neighborhood. It did not take him long to reach the Dursley's front door. He knocked and waited, cursing his own wards, which prevented any wizard but Harry from forcing their way into the house. While he could circumvent them with enough time, knocking was likely the fastest means of gaining entry. When a full minute had passed, Albus cast a knocking spell on the door, which would ensure that the sound reverberated around the entire house. A mere five seconds later the spell was canceled with the opening of the door. Albus once more found himself in the presence of Vernon Dursley.
"You!" the man accused.
"Yes, Mr. Dursley, it is I. Now I know that Harry is here, so please bring me to him."
"Well, you're too late. The boy's gone, disappeared, like he was never here."
Albus sighed as he stepped across the threshold. "It would seem then, Mr. Dursley, that I am in need of a new memory."