A/N- Howdy folks! Sorry about the long wait; school started back on August 10 and then cross country started on Monday...

Anyways, here's the next chapter.

Oh and by the way, Windows 10 is brilliant, but I apparently don't have Word on it, so hopefully I didn't make to many spelling and grammar mistakes!

Disclaimer: I don't own it. Never have and most likely never will!


Chapter 3- Baptism

January 16th, 1996

Harry awoke with the sun's rays traveling over his eyes. That meant he hadn't slept till nighttime; good. The grandfather clock in the corner was notched at five o'clock in the evening.

Harry couldn't help but to think more on his situation. James and Lily Potter had sacrificed themselves for him—and he wasn't even their child. Then again, he was their child, they had adopted him after all.

At least with his new name, he could continue to call himself Harry; what kind of name was Herakles anyways? He idly wondered why his last name wasn't Riddle, but then he remembered that he was probably conceived when both parties were unmarried, meaning he was a bastard child. Just another title to help him get up in the mornings.

Had Voldemort known? He had freed him from Azkaban after all. Although, Voldemort had inadvertently placed him there also, but he would want to control his heir right?

It was time to get up. Harry tried to get up but immediately fell back as various parts of his body protested the movement by making odd popping sounds. His bones were all stiff and the few muscles that remained on his meager body ached with the slightest movement. Sleeping on a soft bed after half a year of sleeping on little better than stone wasn't such a good idea after all.

He stood up slowly and stretched, his back popping furiously. His stomach growled and he remembered that he hadn't had any nourishment today. Well the kitchen was certainly around here somewhere. Amelia hadn't said not to leave his room right?

He made his way slowly down the stairs, being as quiet as possible. The house—or rather mansion by the size of it—was eerily quiet; not a sound could be heard at all.

At the bottom of the stairs, Harry turned into the room on the left. They had went straight from the foyer to his room, so he didn't have a clue of the mansion's layout.

The room appeared to be a sort of lounging room; decorated, you guessed it, beautifully. Amelia was peacefully dozing in a chair, a book abandoned in her lap. Well, it wouldn't do to wake her; he'd find the kitchens on his own.


For as long as he could remember, cooking had always been a bittersweet experience for Harry. He respected the art of cooking and was most likely the reason that insanity didn't overtake him at the Dursley's.

It was different than a chore for him. A reprieve from the horrors that were forced upon him there. And it helped that he was rather good at it.

He was making one of his favorite dishes to cook: basil Thai chicken. Unfortunately, he'd never actually tasted it. It was a simple meal; something he could do in his sleep. The Dursleys loved it too after all.

At first, he was only making it for himself. That's how he'd finally convinced the elves to let him cook. But then, he realized that Amelia would probably be hungry as well, and it was the least he could do for her hospitality. He loathed the thought of cooking for someone, just another lesson learned at his favorite aunt's house. Wait, she wasn't even his aunt!

"What are you doing in my house?" a girly voice with a hint of terror in it yelled from the other side of the kitchen.

Harry spun—nearly hitting himself with the iron skillet he held in his hand—to see a brownish looking wand staring him in the face. The owner had strawberry colored hair, which aside from this, Harry would've thought it was his new fiancée. Susan Bones.

"Uh hello, I'm —"

The tip of Susan's wand turned an orangey-red and a ball of flame was produced, sent spiraling the few feet that was between them. She hadn't even given him a chance to explain.

Harry brought up the iron skillet to protect himself, and not a moment to soon. The Incendio Susan had cast slammed into the cooking utensil with such force that it flew out of Harry's now scalded hands.

He decided to take advantage of Susan's surprise and dived out of the way, hiding behind the kitchen island.

Susan was already bombarding the defenseless counter with a number of pseudo-deadly spells. He was going to have to defend himself; he just hoped Amelia wouldn't get to mad.

Harry jumped out from his hiding spot, brandishing an iron skillet, intent on giving her a couple whacks on the head.

Susan quickly countered with an disarming charm.

The spell hit him dead on, sending him flying backwards, and the skillet to fly into the air. Unfortunately, the spell didn't stop there and started ricocheting off of the walls like bullets. The skirmish quickly turned…strange, with Harry and Susan dodging the disarming charm whilst fighting a fierce hand-to-hand battle. It was like a very dangerous game of ping-pong. It would've been rather comical, that is, from a spectator's point-of-view.

Harry went to knee, dodging a cutting curse, and used it as an advantage to charge Susan, who had no hope of dodging. And thus, the situation that his wife-to-be entered into did not shine him in a good light.

The kitchen was in a state of disarray. Maybe disarray didn't quite cover it. Absolutely destroyed fit better. The only surface that didn't have damage to it was the stove. The island was non-existent.

Harry had her niece pinned in a very sexual position. Of course, it had all been self-defense, but Harry doubted Amelia would take it that way.

"What in the devil is going on here!" Amelia shouted, gripping her wand tightly.

"Auntie!" Susan shouted relieved. "this man…he was…and I!" She was stumbling over her words something fierce. Probably trying to come up with a lie.

"I heard something in the kitchen and I went to investigate and this guy attacks me! I didn't even do anything wrong!" Bloody kids. Always wanting to make themselves out to be the hero.

"HE WHAT?" Amelia growled getting red in the face—much like Vernon—and pointing her wand threateningly at him. He had to diffuse this situation fast before the powerful witch in front of him blasted him to dust.

"Now, now, Susan," Harry said in a chiding manner, "it's not right to lie. Why don't we tell Auntie Amelia the truth now?" He probably hadn't helped his case much with the childish scolding.

"Alright, so maybe I attacked him first," Susan said pouting slightly causing Amelia to lower her wand. As soon as Susan saw her aunt lower her wand she quickly went serious again.

"Who is he? What is he doing here? Why haven't you attacked him? Are you just going to stand there, Auntie?" The rapid succession of questions left Harry's mind reeling.

Harry glanced at Amelia, expecting her to do the same, but she didn't—keeping her eyes on her niece. Didn't people do that when they both knew something?

"There are a few things I need to tell you, Susan. Go to the dining hall and I'll be there momentarily."

Susan sent a distrusting glance at Harry and left the room. As soon as she was gone, Amelia grabbed ahold of his arm. "We'll talk later," she growled, before leaving herself. Harry was to busy gawking to reply. He hadn't done anything!


Susan took the news rather well. At least she looked at Harry in a new light. Unfortunately, Amelia's thoughts on him only seemed to worsen after the incident. She had been rude enough to refuse the food he had made—probably because she thought it was poisoned or some shit.

Harry wouldn't admit that it hurt quite a bit, but he got over it. Susan had enjoyed the meal after all.

After dinner, they retired to the lounging room that Amelia had occupied before five. Harry took a seat in one of the more comfortable looking couches, across from the twin chairs that the Bones' occupied.

"So, Susan," Amelia began, trying to interrupt the silence, "What brings you here? You should be at school."

"Professor Sprout said that I could spend the night here as long as I was back by breakfast tomorrow," Susan explained. "But I think I better leave so you two can get…acquainted," she teased.

Amelia glared at her, causing Harry to give a disapproving grunt. She was just taking the mickey out on them; what was the bloody problem?

"Could you do me a favor when you get back to Hogwarts, Susan?" Harry asked, speaking up for the first time. His voice was still hoarse as he still wasn't used to talking yet.

"What's that, uncle?" she asked grinning.

Harry decided to ignore it and continued on seriously, "I need to know who believes in my innocence."

Susan's smile morphed into a serious expression. "I can give you a rough estimate now. Most of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw are behind you. The Gryffindors are divided, and the Slytherins —"

"I don't care about the snakes," Harry said calmly, but forcefully. He didn't need to get stabbed in the back, whilst recovering from…well getting stabbed in the back.

"You don't need to worry about them; they don't seem to care much," Susan continued.

This was a decent development. He had at least two of the houses behind him and that was something. Of course, they would need to be trained, but he could have them battle-ready in a few months.

He was surprised that the Gryffindors actually cared enough about him to be divided. The leaders of the house had led the charge against him after all. It didn't matter much; he wasn't feeling like much of a Gryffindor these days.

"Why do you ask, Harry?" Susan's voice cut through his thoughts.

"Because," he stopped dramatically, not even really meaning to, "I need an army."


"We can't find Harry anywhere." Those words had reverberated around his mind all day.

Had he been captured by death eaters? Possible, but doubtful.

Had the ministry stepped in and found him? Unlikely and improbable, but possible.

Had he gotten lost? Doubtful, but possible.

There was an answer to every question, except for the one of his godson's location. If only he had went with the Order instead of facing Madam Bones, he could've comforted Harry, and convinced those bloody Order members not to lock him up like an animal.

But "if onlys" were of the past and it was now time to look to the future. To take action for once.

Screw the Order; they had new recruits coming in everyday. Well it may be best if they were called what they really were: cannon fodder.

And as befuddled as his mind was, it couldn't have been clearer. Dumbledore's chess playing and manipulations; Harry being sent to the Dursleys; him being sent to Azkaban; Remus leaving England for twelve years.

This was it. He'd find his godson and they'd have a real family; one to be proud of. And he'd bring Moony too, kicking and screaming if necessary. But first, some information gathering never hurt, right?


Amelia woke up sweating profusely. Those horrid violet eyes! These dreams had been terrible, nightly occurrences, but never had it been so vivid as it did now. Probably because the offspring of the owner of those terrifying, yet beautiful eyes lay in an room adjacent to her own.

She filled with anger. He was arrogant, snobbish, and quiet. These qualities seemed to contradict themselves, yet they all manifested perfectly in him. Probably got it from that no good mother of his. She had been dark from the start, so why wouldn't he be the same?

There was a chance that she was simply being biased. Susan and he got along quite well after all.

She was being horribly tendentious; he seemed to be a rather good kid. And he'd just gotten out of Azkaban and she hadn't even given him a chance to prove otherwise. She was being not being a very good host at all.

Deciding to fix that in the morning, she fell into a slightly less fitful sleep.


"MADAM BONES!"

Amelia jumped out of bed, unable to assess the situation, but battle-ready all the same. She looked blearily at the clock in the corner, noting quickly that it was three-thirty in the morning.

"Madam Bones, ma'am!" a voice called from the floo, slightly less loud. Amelia turned and was surprised to find her secretary and friend's head sticking out of it.

"Anna, it's rather early for a chat —"

"Death Eaters!" Anna interrupted, "they've been spotted in a muggle village outside Edinburgh!"

Amelia froze up for a few seconds. Never in her career had she had to deal with a situation such as this. Should she alert Dumble…no, this was her job.

"Scramble all available hit wizards! I'll be there in just a moment," Amelia yelled dashing around her bedroom, looking for any suitable article of clothing.

Anna disconnected the floo, and Amelia quickly changed into her robes. She'd change into her battle robes at the Ministry; she just hoped that not to many muggles would die before they got there.

She dived into the floo, shouting her destination, and she caught a quick glimpse of Harry barreling into her room. What horrid manners!


The frantic voices inside Amelia's room hadn't stopped and Harry was getting worried. Both he and Susan—who had ended up staying the night after all—had tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge, even by Susan's magical means.

Eventually, Harry threw his whole weight on the door and it gave way. He only caught a glance, before Amelia flooed away, giving a startled expression at his entrance.

There weren't any intruders that Harry could see, but that didn't help him to relax at all. If anything, it put him even further on guard, as a hidden enemy was even worse.

"Where'd she go?" Susan asked, entering the room warily.

"Floo," Harry answered gruffly.

Susan gasped. "There must've been a problem at the ministry then; that's the only reason she would leave this early."

"Smells like death eaters."

"Huh?" Susan looked at him strangely. Smells probably wasn't the best word to use, considering that he had just gotten out of prison and trying to prove that he didn't need to spend the rest of his life in the asylum, but Susan only gave him a wary glance.

"I'm going," Harry said with finality, turning around to march back to his room.

"I want to go too," Susan declared hotly, her chin immediately rising.

Harry gave Susan a calculated glance. "No," he finally answered.

"Why not?" Susan went from slightly blushing from his gaze to her face being contorted with rage.

"This is war, Susan; not Defense Against the Dark Arts with Lockhart. I saw things yesterday that I wish I never had," Harry said, with a haunted expression, reminiscing back to the Battle of Azkaban.

Susan was silent. Good — maybe she understood.

Harry rushed across the room, grabbed some floo powder, threw it into the fiery hot fireplace, and jumped into the bright green flame. "British Ministry of Magic!"

Susan's eyes suddenly bulged and he could barely make out her expostulation, "But you don't even have a wa—"


Harry was spit out of one of the fireplaces into the Atrium of the ministry. He remembered it well from his "trial."

Chaos was abundant. Wizards dressed in rugged red robes were everywhere, running frantically. Several people were shouting orders, and orderlies were carrying out said orders.

In the midst of this, the wizarding savior was unceremoniously deposited from the floo, still dressed in his jammies. Nobody paid him any mind.

Harry picked himself off the floor and followed the strangely robed 'army.' Several people gave him glances, but they never said anything. They congregated at a sort of meeting hall only slightly down the hall.

Harry took cover behind one of the pillars of to the side and settled down to keep out of sight. It didn't take long before Amelia—he could tell who she was by her voice—began speaking.

"Just moments ago, we received word of a death eater raid on a small muggle village south of Edinburgh." She was forced to pause for the bombardment of questions that followed her announcement.

She continued after the crowd was under control again: "We have intelligence that suggests that there are only a few dozen if not less. It should be a rather simple in and out mission. I'm taking 2nd Company and a platoon of aurors. The rest of you are to stay here and be ready to provide backup."

Amelia's long winded speech left an affect on Harry; he suddenly felt as if something was about to go wrong. He needed a plan, and quick.

Unfortunately, the telltale signs of apparition reverberated around the dome-like room that he occupied, leaving him with a room of bored hit wizards and aurors and a very slim chance of escape without being detected.


"Madam Bones, we have the building surrounded," Kingsley said in his deep, booming voice.

It had been easy; they had apparated in, taking the death eaters by surprise and hemmed them into a building. The death eaters had been admittedly amazing fighters, leaving the village covered with dead and wounded from both sides.

"Good, now we need to —" she began, but was interrupted by a noise that sounded very much like a funnel. She knew what it was at once: portkeys. And loads of them at that.

Amelia locked eyes with Bellatrix Lestrange—who seemed to be leading a group of several hundred death eaters. They were completely surrounded.

"Reductos on three!" she shouted so her hundred-or-so soldiers could hear. It was about to get even bloodier.


Harry was not the luckiest boy in the universe by any means. But right now, he was feeling rather lucky.

He had been stealthily evading the lounging hit wizards, when an alarm sounded. Within the minute, every soldier in the room was gone, barely leaving a trace in which direction they were headed.

He followed, hiding in the shadows when necessary. He scrambled through a door, that was closing and jumped behind a conveniently placed box.

He watched as two groups of soldiers disappeared by what looked like a portkey, leaving just a single group behind.

The leader, a portly bloke with balding hair spoke up: "The first wave was ambushed." There were a couple of gasps before he continued, "We've suffered heavy losses. We're calling in more men, but for now, we're all we've got."

"But sir," one of the females said, a quiver in her voice, "We're not combat ready! I only joined three days ago!"

"Yes — and I'm almost sixty years old. Do you think I belong on the battlefield?" It must've been a rhetorical question because the man quickly continued, "Alright then if there are no more questions…"

The portkey activated and took Harry a second to realize that this was his only chance. He flung himself across the room and grabbed onto the one of the hit wizards arms before they portkeyed away.

He opened his eyes and he immediately regretted the action. The sight that greeted him was a gruesome one; he was staring into the face of a dead man.

The spell-fire was intense and brilliant, but deadly. The fires dancing across the grounds mixed with the screams of the wounded and the victorious yells of those who bested them were like a perverse song-and-dance and Harry was not liking it one bit.

He picked himself off the ground, only to stare into the eyes of the man of whom he had latched onto to. Harry expected the man to say something, but instead he fell slowly to his knees and then to the ground, where Harry could clearly see the blood gushing out of his back.

Harry wanted to scream, but he held his tongue. Instead, he ran towards a row of houses to his left, dodging sporadic spell-fire as he did. He crashed through a door of one of the houses, looking for a temporary relief from the death outside.

The sight that greeted him however was worse. A death eater had a young female auror pinned and was ripping her clothes off with a lustful glint in his eye. The woman was only putting up marginal resistance, unable to do much because of her glaring wounds.

Harry felt hot rage course through his veins and he picked the closest thing up—which just luckily happened to be a shovel—and proceeded to bash the man's brains in, with a couple extra whacks for good measure. Needless to say, he would most likely not be getting up again.

The woman looked up at him gratefully and he knelt down beside her. She was an interesting bird; her hair was a stylish spiky pink and her eyes green, not quite the intensity of his own, but close.

"Thank you," she murmured weakly, but then gave a weak chuckle. "They told me not to go because of the wounds I suffered yesterday, but I just couldn't let my comrades have all the fun."

Harry let a sympathetic smile creep onto his face. To have the courage to be cheerful even in the face of death was beyond admirable.

"What happened?" he questioned.

"It was a setup; an ambush. We should've seen it coming, but we didn't. We held our own for a few moments though, fighting back-to-back. Until the reinforcements began arriving and it devolved into the—excuse my language—shitstorm it is now," she answered, stopping every little bit to cough.

"Speaking of which mate, what are you doing here? You're much to young to be in a unit," she said, eyeing him suspiciously.

"What happened to Madam Bones?" A battle was raging outside and he had no time to dawdle.

The woman continued her suspicious inspection of him before finally answering, "I never saw her go down, but I went down pretty quickly myself."

He wanted to find Amelia. To keep her safe. She had taken him into her home when he was at his lowest—which when he really thought about it was only yesterday—and treated him relatively nice.

"I'll send a medic," Harry finally said, turning around to leave, not knowing if there even were such a thing in the wizarding military.

She grabbed his arm before he left and looked into his eyes. "Are you a Black?" she asked finally, after a slightly awkward confrontation.

The dreaded question. Harry decided it was better left unanswered and ran out of the house.

He reentered the battlefield, finding it much the same as when he left. The red robes of the British wizarding military stood out in the night, whilst the black robes of the enemy seemed to mix with the shadows.

Harry raced towards the nearest group of redcoats he could find and quickly regretted it. The battle was ferocious in this particular area, with soldiers dropping like flies on both sides. The spells raged like angry bees and peppered the ground and buildings behind the opposing lines.

Harry sidestepped a dark brown curse and rolled under a dark blue curse and was even forced to jump to avoid a light-sided reducto.

Harry thought he was doing pretty well until he landed face-to-face with a nasty looking bloke with decaying teeth. He was…a little on the large side and unfortunately, it wasn't in the stomach.

The man pulled out his wand and Harry finally realized something slightly important: the ministry had snapped his wand before he went to Azkaban! So that left out the wand-to-wand option. And even before he had been placed in Azkaban, Harry would've only had a little difficulty taking this six foot five, two-hundred and fifty pound man down with just his hands. Now…maybe not.

The man grinned, which looked horrible with his teeth, and flicked his wand, sending him flying through the wall into one of houses. Harry tried to pick himself off the floor, but he seemed to be pinned by some intangible weight.

The man walked menacingly through the newly made hole-in-the-wall smiling maliciously. Harry could honestly say that he was rather terrified.

"EVERBO!" a very feminine voice cried from behind the large man. He was sent sailing through the air, and into the wall on the other side of the room.

Standing where he had once stood, was Susan, still dressed in her jammies as well. She looked very much like an angel: her red hair flowing and those luscious breasts that could be seen very well through her nightgown…

Harry shook his head and stood up. It wouldn't do to get distracted on the battlefield.

Susan was crying and breathing heavily. "Oh, Merlin! I just killed that man!"

"Well, I surely hope so," Harry said, letting his whimsical side shine, "His hair was a mess!"

Suddenly, an insane cackle filled the air, one that was familiar. Harry stepped through the hole-in-the-wall to find the street literally slick with blood and the few surviving hit wizards holding on to a small hill.

Harry watched as the abomination that was his…mother slashed her wand at the group of allied wizards. The balding man who had said that he was to old to be on the battlefield, fell to the ground dead.

Susan gave a loud, horrified gasp. Lestrange whipped around to face them and their eyes locked. She looked bewildered for a minute before her face took an ear-splitting grin.

"Herakles!" she called waving and cackling madly.

"Mother," Harry said challengingly, though not before grimacing at the use of his name.

"You've gotten so big! Unfortunately, our time is short; my lord has commanded me to kill you, but always remember that you'll be my special baby!" She really was bloody insane!

"Goodbye, Herakles," she said pointing her wand at him, "Avada —" Didn't the bad guys always tell out their plans in detail?

A shadow descended between mother and son, quickly pulling up their wand and calmly saying, "Voltus!"

"—Kedavra!"

The two crackling bolts of light—one a sickly green and the other, a beautiful but powerful blue—collided, causing a small magical explosion that showered the ground with pieces of glass from the broken windows.

"Bonesy — you slippery gal! I could've sworn I killed you!" Bellatrix growled playfully. Her emotions really were quite confusing; they always seemed to contradict themselves.

"Diffindo," Amelia said, slashing her wand through the air. Lestrange simply sidestepped, still chattering.

"You always have been slippery though, haven't you, Amelia? I remember very fondly the night that I single-handedly almost wiped out the Bones. But it looks like fate simply wants your family dead; both members stand in front of me, the most powerful witch of my age!"

Harry desperately wished he could do something to help—there was that damned hero-saving trait of his—but he no longer owned a wand and would most likely just get in the way.

His mother shot a dark brown curse—much like the one he had dodged earlier—at Amelia, who countered with her own unknown light spell and the two spells connected. Both Amelia's and Bellatrix's eyes widened comically and would've been hilarious—if not for the seriousness of the situation, of course.

Both women pushed all of their magical strength into their spells and a steadily growing ball of magical energy began to form. Eventually, it became to much and it exploded with a brilliant display of power. The shockwave that formed knocked all in range to the ground.

When Harry next looked up, a death eater was helping his mother to her feet. Lestrange looked bewildered before smirking at all the dead British soldiers.

"Tell the men to retreat. We're done here." And with that, she and the death eaters that were in an decent condition, apparated away.

One of the hit wizards in the area stumbled over, his leg bleeding profusely. "Madam Bones, we've won the battle! Oh thank Merlin!"

Harry looked around at the mangled corpses of British aurors and hit wizards. What had they really won?


A/N- I completely had forgotten about the whole snapping wands before you get sent to Azkaban. In fact, I at first wrote the Harry/Susan fight with Harry having a wand!

And for those of you who read my Perseus Black stories, you know just how terrible I am at remembering stuff for my author's notes, so if I forgot something, you might see it next time.

Review!