By the next time Harry woke up he was in a different room by himself. From his position he could see the dark wood ceiling crisscrossed by the thick exposed beams that held it up and from which small delicate birds made out of metal hanged as if on midflight. Trying to see more from his position he attempted to sit up, but regardless of how much he tried his body would not heed his commands, the most he could accomplish was twisting his head so as to look to the sides. By doing so he realized he was not as alone as he originally thought, on the other side of the small room there was a crib just like the one he now rested on, and inside it was a small toddler of no more than one year of age. The toddler was staring at him, and as he looked back Harry was surprised by how much he looked like himself in the baby photos he had with his parents. The resemblance was uncanny, and harry couldn't help but think that had the boy had a pair of small rounded glasses it would have bordered on creepy. For a second he started to wonder whether he could have had son without remembering it. Maybe he had gotten so drunk celebrating after a quidditch match with the team that he had forgotten it. He tried thinking who could be the mother, Katie maybe? The twins had been trying to set him up with her so that he would overlook Ginny's crush so maybe… and as Harry started driving himself haggard trying to figure out how he had become a parent at 18 years of age, the events of the last days started to come back to him. He remembered the war, the final battle and his death. He remembered the dark comforting place he now noticed had been his new mother´s womb, and he shuddered remembering his own birth which he dearly hoped he would forget before long. Coming to grips with having been reborn would have usually taken a long time, full of existential crisis, and identity issues that would have one clamoring for some firewhisky, but before Harry could even start thinking about it he was distracted by a shout from the exited toddler in the room. The child eagerly waved his hands and happily cried out some unintelligible words and before long a middle aged woman entered through the door to check on them both. She first went over to the boy, and after picking him up in her arms carried him over so he could look into Harry´s crib. The child looked on at him with mirth, happily pointing at things and spouting words which Harry thought were gibberish. Soon enough the woman also started replying to the child by using several words Harry didn't know either and interspersed between which were the words the child had said.

By the time she left the room, having submitted Harry to the embarrassment of having his diaper changed and being made to suckle on her breasts for milk, he was certain of several things. First he never again wanted to feel so weak and dependant on someone as he had felt while having his bottom wiped, or his back patted to make him burped. Second he was undeniably a babe, unable to even sit himself, and so would have to tolerate the indignity for far longer than he would have liked as there was no way for him to take care of himself. Third he needed to learn the language as he didn't enjoy not knowing what was going around himself.

Thinking about that he chuckled, Sirius would have been hollering with laughter by this point, having women shove their breasts in his mouth and "pamper" him while he could not understand a word they were saying would have seemed like a huge prank to the old dog. Heck was Sirius in his place he might just have laid back and enjoyed basking in the attention. He had always had a brighter outlook on life; even while hiding in Grimmauld place he had cracked jokes and tried to make the best out of life. Having escaped a harrowing experience like being almost kissed by a dementor had only merited a "How many men do you think can brag to a bird that they escaped by flying away on a hippogriff, it's going to make me so popular with the ladies Harry!" Thinking back on his dogfather filled the room with the chime of baby laughter and before long he tired himself out and fell asleep again.

In between his regular feedings, and sleeping Harry had lots of time to think, he would have preferred trying to learn the language but people usually didn't spend too much time talking around him and the other child in the room, so he contented himself with thinking. He thought back to his friends, he wished they would be happy, he was sad he would most likely never see them again but he had already come to grips with it before. He thought back on his life, his years at the Dursleys and the abuse he suffered at his hands, and then later on he thought back to Hogwarts. Hogwarts the magnificent castle that deep in his heart would always be his true home, with its twisting hallways, moving staircases and talking portraits. But thinking about Hogwarts was also thinking about magic, as it permeated the very place till you could almost taste it in the air. It was welded to each and every stone that made it up, and soaked the very food that was served in the great hall, to the point that the food stoked the magic in the students' bodies, making it burn brighter and stronger. Thinking back on the warmth of his own magic, Harry tried searching for it inside himself again. Finding it had proven harder than before, and for a moment he feared he had lost it, only to finally find it once again at the end. The feeling of it was comforting, but it felt different, smaller, weaker and more erratic and wilder. Like an untamed colt, walking on unsteady hooves, not certain what he was trying to make it do. As days passed, and with nothing else to do, he started to get reacquainted with his magic, he tried to command it and make it perform some spells but it felt sluggish and unresponsive. In a stroke of genius he theorized how magic could work somewhat like a muscle and much like he now had to teach his muscles to walk and move all over again, he would also have to teach his magic how to respond to his commands. Looking back, if one had to train magic before they could use it in spells, it would make sense why McGonagall had made them start by doing simple things like turning matches into needles, before they attempted more complex transfiguration. She may have been training their magic at the same time as she trained their minds. So he resigned to go once again through what he could remember of his Hogwarts education. Well at least he would have something to do…

By the time Harry was approaching his first name day he had learn several things, chief amongst them was that relearning magic was proving to be almost impossible, not helped in no small matter by his lack of a wand to act as a focus. Wandless magic had been a rarity among wizards, something beyond the skill and power of most anyone but Dumbledore and Voldemort themselves. And no matter how evil and despicable Voldemort was, or how quirky and manipulative Dumbledore had been, nobody could deny they had been magical powerhouses second to none in their time. Compounding the difficulty of it all was the fact that Harry was not only attempting magic wandless but only without speaking the chant, as he did not know what people routinely thought of magic in this new world, and how they would react If a toddler started spouting gibberish when weird things started happening around him. They might burn him at the stake for all he knew. That seemed like a horrible way to die and he was not certain whether he would get another do over if that happened, so it was better not to tempt fate. The most he had managed had been a small orb of light on his palm with a silent lumos, and that had taken almost a whole year to get to happen consistently, and to be able to keep it up for enough time to make it useful. One year painstakingly going over a spell that had taken him one single day back at Hogwarts. Sometimes he had considered giving up, but with nothing better to do while alone on his crib he had persevered, and after seeing that very first pinprick of light the feelings of warmth and wonder he had felt before had come back to him and he had been hooked.

Unlike his magic, his comprehension of the language spoken by those around him had reached the point where he could understand most conversations around him. By doing so, he found out how the toddler that shared his room was his older brother Lester Morrigen and how both of their parents, the beautiful woman who shared their eyes and the man with the roguish smile were the Lady Lyra and Lord Jasper Morrigen of Crow's Nest.

Crow's nest being a small castle when compared to Hogwarts but big by any other standards and taller than it was wide. Made in the shape of a square tower of 30 floors tall that looked as if it was carved out of the mountain on which's side it rested. The dark grey, almost black stone that made out the great keep and the walls which surrounded it, made it look as if the structure had naturally popped out of the face of the mountain one day. Its color made it so that at night one could hardly find the castle if not familiar with its location. On the topmost floors where the family chambers and bellow them, where the library with the maester´s quarters, followed by the armory, the barracks and the meal hall with his father's throne made out of ebony wood and enameled with the visages of crows, even further down where the cellars for food, then the kitchens and underground were the gallows for the prisoners. There were also several buildings outside the castle proper but still within its walls, that provided rooms in which guests would rest, a forge for the blacksmith, and room for the horses, but everything of importance had been put inside the square castle, the lords family ensconced at the very top, so that any would be assassin would have to charge through the walls and all of the men in the barracks before reaching their target. The servants from whose gossiping Harry had overheard all of this had often bemoaned having to climb such a large amount of stairs, and he was sure once he could walk so would he, but there was no denying how perfectly such a structure protected his family, nor how magnificent it made the view at the top. Every time his mother had taken him to his father´s office Harry couldn't restrain himself from gasping at how far away he could see from its windows. Looking out of them remembered him of flying on his Firebolt, the view alone made the name of the castle fitting as it gave its lord a true bird's view of their territory. It had been in that very room, that harry had cheekily decided on speaking his first words, he had previously decided on emulating his brother's progress so as to not seem unnaturally smart. And so a month before his first name day while on his mother's arms he had surprised her by clearly calling "Mommy!" His mother overjoyed, and preening at having been his first word had promptly taken him to father to brag-show him.

"Dear! Harysspokehisfirstwordanditwasmommy!" was the first thing Jasper had heard as Lyra had dashed into his office, winded and puffing with Harry on her arms, looking as if she had ran all the way there. "Love could you repeat that slower?" Putting down his quill he set his work aside. Walking to see what had his wife so worked up.

Still winded and excited, Lyra took a deep breath before speaking again "I said, Harys spoke his first word" she stopped briefly to give her husband a cocky grin "want to try guessing what it was?" Amused by his wife's antics, Jasper decided to play along "Maybe it was food? He is a growing boy after all, or maybe it was sword like a precocious little knight. Perhaps he takes after his older brother and also said bird?" with each word he spoke, Lyra seemed to get more excited, enjoying having him guessing for once. "None of those dear, I will give you a hint it was person"

"A person, well he does spend a lot of time around maids' maybe it was one of them? No not them he would hardly hear their names often enough. Lester? They do spend most of their time together in their room." With a smug look in her face she answered "None of those, it is the most important person in a little boys life." She said while looking at him as if it was obvious. So of course he couldn't help but tease her more. "Oh I know it then. There is only one person that it could be, a woman essential to his very life…" he made a pause enjoying the smug look that appeared on her face "it has to be Bessie his wet nurse!" he exclaimed with a cheeky grin, enjoying how she turned to give him an incredulous look. Without being able to contain herself she almost shouted "WHAT! Of course not, it was mommy. Mommy was his first word" Jasper could not keep together, and after looking at her quite pout and put-upon face his straight face crumbles and he starts to chuckle with mirth. As she realizes how he has been having her on Lyra says with a huff "That's not fair! You knew all along what I meant!"

"I am sorry love I couldn't resist it, you just look so adorable when teased" after which he enveloped his wife and youngest child in his arms enjoying the blush that started growing on her cheeks she softly mumbles "You have to say that I'm your wife". Not wanting to be outdone by his father "Mommy Pretty!" Harry shouts in his most innocent voice. To which his mother blushed even more deeply and tries to hide her face against her husband's chest. Who chuckles before adding "Hear that love, Harys thinks the same, you are beautiful" to which the only reply is her grunting and trying to hide her beaming smile together with her crimson blush.

Thank you for reading this chapter, Hope you enjoyed it. Was glad for all the reviews, favourites and follows. They are all greatly apreciated and i love reading your reviews, so if you want to say something please do leave a review. That said please no flames. Next chapter is gonna have some small timeskips. See you soon :)