Don't Steal My Thunder - Chapter 1 - The-Boy-Who-Was-Found
"Don't leave me!" Harry shouted as he spotted the familiar stances the fire elementals were taking. Harry had learned many things of the various elemental stances in his community. He groaned and began shout, desperate this time as he lunged towards them from where he sat. The chains they had used to keep him bound to the ground did not break, "You promised you would never leave me behind! Take me with you!"
"Shut it, brat!" One of the red clad monsters pointed their sticks at him as he kicked up some quickly gathered energy, sending dirt, grass, and gusts of wind flying at them. Anything to break their concentration.
"I'll be good!" He wanted to shout, but no sound came from his mouth as he struggled to break free of the chains that bound him. The red robed monsters laughed amongst themselves, as though they could not feel the energy about to burst forth. Harry knew it was fruitless to cry, but he couldn't help it as his Grammy Flora stood up and waved at him, tearful as she ducked under her wings like everyone else in the cage was doing.
KABOOM!
The force of the energy sent everything flying and Harry knew the cage would melt from the heat while his only company, the men in red, went flying further than Harry himself could thanks to the strong chains around his wrists. Harry wanted to scream as his skin sizzled against the metal of his chains.
That would leave a mark, he found himself thinking as the heat forced him into unconsciousness.
"What the devil is going on here?" A feminine voice came through the ringing of a post-explosion world. "You idiots! Why do we only have one of this nest?"
"Madam Bones." He flinched when she turned her sharp gaze on him. Her skin, red and splotchy, turned white at the sight of him.
"You… you're the Boy-Who-Lived…" He flinched and leaned as far away from her as he could as she approached him like a storm. She pulled out a stick of her own and pointed it at him. Harry sucked in a breath, gathering energy for defense when she sent another light flying at him. "There's no denying you as James' son, boy. Say something now."
He shook his head and her eyes narrowed.
"Madam Bones, please understand—we had no idea who he was… and he was yelling a lot of things."
"You expect me to be so understanding when Harry Potter was kidnapped, then found, then silenced under the watchful eyes of aurors under my jurisdiction?"
"Amelia, there's no need to shout. I came as soon as I heard."
"Of course, you're here. Can't have a clean case without an outside witness." Madam Bones snapped at the old man, "This is Harry Potter… though, I suppose with his age he'd be under your jurisdiction?"
He flinched at the use of his old name and looked between the two titans of energy. He gave an almighty shiver at the aura the woman put out when the old man nodded, his eyes twinkling.
"I must know, headmaster… who told you we had a child elemental here?"
"Now, now, Amelia. I heard an interesting anecdote when I went to a muggle magic show—"
"How would… you know what? Don't tell me the story and just get to the point, old man."
"A magician never reveals his secrets."
"Of course. He will be your responsibility, Headmaster Dumbledore, if that's the game you want to play. Any property damage will be charged to you - you will be responsible for his education and his wellbeing. I look forward to seeing this play out. Now, I will contact Gringotts and allow them entrance to the elemental caves. Anything they find will not be going to your charge—"
"Amelia…" the headmaster interrupted. His voice came out in slow measured words. The same way the elementals used to speak to him whenever Harry was being unreasonable. "Harry Potter is a household name, would he really need more than his inherited fortunes and royalties?"
"Get that child out of my sight." Madam Bones said, cool in tone.
"Now, Mister Potter." The headmaster - whatever that meant - pointed his stick at Harry. Harry flinched and he began to speak in a softer voice, coaxing him. "I would like to unchain you, just that. Nod your head once if you trust me."
He almost told the truth and shook his head. Instead he nodded, his stomach clenching like he was betraying his family for a new one. The energy swooped by him, focusing on the chains. As soon as he was freed, he rubbed his aching wrists over the burns that the immense heat had caused him. He eyed Bones and flinched when the old man reached for him
"Another thing, Mister Potter… I would like to undo the enchantment on your voice. Would you like to speak again?" Harry nodded, this time meaning it as the old man's eyes began to twinkle with more vivacity.
A wave of his stick later, Harry wasn't sure if it had worked. His hands found his throat and he knew what he was going to ask.
"Where is my jarvey?"
"What is this jarvey's name?" Harry blanched at that. Wizards were capable of doing terrible things with a mere name, at least according to Grampa Bartholomew. His hands trembled as an auror exited the tunnel that these interlopers had used to capture all of his family and—oh. He was carrying a dead Jarvey in his hands.
With a gasp his vision was the first thing to go as he croaked the name in a desperate voice as he begged for the skinned jarvey to be a lie—
"Harvey…!"
"Oh, the poor boy."
When he next woke into the next world he was in, Harry was appalled at all the beds in the room. They were plain wireframes fitted with white bed sheets. He wondered if the old man who had taken responsibility for him had thrown him into an orphanage.
Harry groaned as he forced himself to sit up. He glanced at the giant as he entered through the main door. Harry kicked himself off of the bed, almost stumbling as he landed on his two feet—"Mister Potter, don't you dare undo all of my hard work!"
It was in that moment that Harry noticed the woman in white. Considering she was dressed in white on gray, stone walls, Harry knew he could kick himself for missing such an obvious sight. His eyes darted between the two people, trying to decide which one would be easier to take out first to even up the field.
"Please calm down," The woman said. Despite her words, her tone was anything but sweet and soothing. She spoke in a sharp, vague brogue. He couldn't quite place the accent to the location.
"Where am I?" He asked, focusing his eyes on the witch. Her wand was out and she was stepping to him. He took a step towards the window, readying himself to break through.
"You will find those windows have been enchanted to be unbreakable, Mister Potter." He flinched at the use of that name. He could remember a time when he dared to wonder what his parents were like… and he had heard awful things.
"Where is the man who I was with?"
"Headmaster Dumbledore—if that's who you're referring to—is at an International Confederation of Wizards meeting, the final summit of the season. Now, Mister Potter, I must give you one final checkup, am I understood? This is for your health and I would like for you to be able to go shopping before your birthday." The witch began her approach again, wand tip glowing with a white light. If he timed it just right—"Mister Potter, I can easily petrify you and cast the spells I need to cast."
He stood there, following her instructions, from wriggling his toes to lifting his arms up above his head as high as he could. Harry scowled when the witch turned her back, clearing his face as she rounded on him to hold out a small vial. He shivered at the smell it produced. His eyes narrowed.
"Do you expect me to drink that?"
"I suppose it was too much to ask you to finish the potion regime I started you on…"
"What is that potion for?"
"This potion will make the potions I gave you in your unconsciousness take a permanent effect. I have given you a pre-dosage for common maladies, such as the dragon pox." Harry stared at her before he crossed his arms and decided he would not be taking the potion.
"I don't need it."
"Mister Potter—" The witch before him sighed, losing all of her bluster as she looked him in the eyes. "You have chosen the hard way, hmm?"
Her booted heel found one of his toes and he did not get the chance to breathe in a breath for a cry before the sweet potion found its way to his parted lips. His eyes rolled up to the heavens, thanking them for this wonderful drink as he sucked the phial dry.
"I see you liked it, Mister Potter. I trust you shall not turn your nose up at other things in the future without giving them a try." He nodded once and the witch was off of him, pulling a set of plain black garments from a drawer from one of the bedside tables. "Put these on, Mister Potter."
"What are they?"
They were similar to the clothes worn by the redclad monsters that had come to his family's den. He flinched back as she held it out at him. It wasn't red, he'd give it that much despite the frayed edges. Harry listened to her one word explanation that explained the entire purpose of the garment… in her eyes.
"Robes."
"What's wrong with pants and a shirt?"
"Mister Potter, lift your arms while I explain the basics of our dressing culture." He did so, surprised at how flawlessly she stripped off the top half of his outfit from the elementals… one of his many grammies had worked hard on it… "Robes are made of a multitude of materials and can be used in many different ways. The issue with wearing the things like muggles wear is that they are harder to enchant with things like warming or cooling charms. Muggles also make them with products that are inferior when it comes to enchanting. If you must dress like a muggle, Mister Potter, go to a wizarding shope, such as Twilfitt and Tattings and they will enchant what they call under robes for you."
"Okay." Harry said, the information almost clicking in his mind.
"Sit!" He sat back on the bed as she reached into the same drawer and pulled out a pair of shoes that looked too big to fit him.
"Aren't those a little big, ma'am?"
"You will refer to me as Madam Pomfrey, boy!" She snapped as she grabbed his right foot and put on a shoe. He was dressed to completion as the shoes resized themselves to fit him better, but they didn't stop. Okay, they were a bit tight when they did stopped shrinking, pinching his toes. "These shoes are school property, I expect you to return them by the end of your first day, Mister Potter."
He didn't have much more thought for it as the witch turned stern eyes onto the giant man who was standing at the entrance of the room. He looked everywhere but at them, making the appearance of an awkward duckling seeking guidance. Was he lost? Harry hadn't even thought to escape thanks to his presence in that particular area of the large stone room.
"Well, Hagrid, state your business!"
"I'm 'ere ta take 'Arry to Diagon Alley fer 'is supplies." Oh, guiding winds… it occurred to him that the old man who had taken responsibility for him would make a better guide. He was busy with other wizards, however. Maybe it was the lack of wrinkles on their faces, maybe it was the lack of white hairs he'd grown used to in anyone but him, but he did not want to suffer them for much longer.
"Is there any way I can go on my own?"
"No." Both of the adults said at once. The large man continued, "'Arry, I need ye to understand, yer already in great danger as it is, what with ye getting kidnapped by those elementals…"
"I ran away from my original house." Harry said, his eyes narrowing. "They hated me and I still hate them. My family found me while I was digging up bugs to eat." It had been a dark time in his life, but it was still better than what he'd gone through with those… those monsters.
"Now, now, 'Arry. I'll take you ta Diagon and ye'll see tha' the Wizarding World is better than some cave dweller's abode." Harry scowled, thinking of a few choice words he wanted to say as the giant man extended a smile that exuded warmth. Oh, he thought he was helping. Harry would make him suffer for the way he spoke of his family.
"We'll see." Harry grumbled, petulant, as he stepped towards the man. "How are we getting to… Diagon Alley?"
The witch was already leaving them alone, telling Harry of an interesting take. One of them was not a threat. Harry knew that he could take on two of those hyper aggressive, five-legged monsters that laid delicious eggs. He wondered what this particularly large wizards could do with his wand.
"I was thinkin' we could take the Knight Bus… but we could take a portkey, if ye like." Ah, they thought that the non-threat was him.
Cute.
"The bus sounds mundane." Harry muttered, vague vitriol entering his tone. He looked up into the man's brown eyes. They were small in proportion to his face, but compared to Harry's eyes, a green that many an earth elemental wished to obtain, the older man was very disproportionate. His nose was too large for his face, his ears did not meet with his face type and… that beard had at least three different knots around his lower lip.
"I think ye'd like this bus, 'Arry." He said as he placed a too large hand on Harry's shoulder, almost knocking him over. "It was enchanted so no muggle could ever hope to see it."
"I'd like that enchantment on me." Harry said, recalling a kicking he had gotten from some pub goers after leaving behind those people. The drunken pub people were still kinder in Harry's opinion.
"Now, now, 'Arry…" He laughed, Harry stared back and the wizard turned away. "Le's jus' go on now, we don' wan' ta wait too long fer the Diagon Alley rush."
"Can't we go the other way?" The large wizard stepped out of the room, standing just outside while holding the door open. Harry got the hint and stepped out after him. Torches lined the walls, unlit and telling Harry it was midday.
"We still need to go outside, 'Arry." The man explained.
"You speak to me as though we are friends, old man." He balked at Harry's aggressiveness. His large body went stiff and Harry smiled at the back of his head as he turned the avoid Harry's green gaze.
Good.
"I suppose ye'd not remember me…" Oh no… Harry was the youngest of his clan, the last one, but that did not mean that he could not hold his own against a monster. He scowled at the man's next words. "I took ye from the wreckage of yer parent's house, 'Arry. Dumbledore told me to bring you to yer family's house—"
"Did you really bring me there?" Harry asked the man, growling and enunciating each word as the older man chuckled.
"Yeah, I did. The house was neat and tidy, so I thought ye'd be safe there. Didn' think tha' they would kidnap ye—"
"I ran away from those monsters!" Harry's explosion was met with a look of utter bewilderment.
"'Arry—"
"They hated me, they told me so!"
"They are yer last family—"
"The Dursleys were never, and will never, be my family!" Harry snarled. He growled and lashed out with his energy as the older man reached for him. "I'd prefer anything to them!"
He lashed out again as the man tried to get up. This time, the giant screamed. Harry took a deep breath, inhaling as the distant sound of rushing steps reached his ears—"I think you should suffer as I did. You did leave me there…"
"The boy is a monster!"
Harry had a problem, he knew.
He'd managed the giant wizard, who refused to stop getting up in an almost admirable show of strength. When he'd woken up, he'd been chained by the ankles to a bed in a cell. The chains did not break, no matter how sharp the air he whipped them with. He ignored the arguments going on outside his cell door. Harry took a deep breath and spoke up for the first time in what felt like days:
"Do I get any food while I'm here?"
He had no idea which of the two people who had been behind him had managed to knock him out. If his family were around, Harry thought with no small amount of bitterness, he wouldn't be clutching his stomach as it gave yet another fierce growl. His eyes closed as the doors opened, the bright-dressed old man was back.
"Heya, Headmaster."
To Harry's disappointment, the old man's blue eyes weren't as twinkly. His forehead, already wrinkled, was scrunched further than Harry could remember.
"Mister Potter," The man said, his stick coming out as he undid the chains with a deepening frown. "We at Hogwarts do not tolerate unlawful acts of violence. Hagrid was admitted to Saint Mungo's for the damage you did to him."
"I didn't hit anything vital." Harry answered in a pout, his words were met with gaping.
"Hagrid has a condition that makes it nearly impossible to hurt him," Dumbledore said. "Saint Mungo's is a hospital for the most severe cases of maladies"
It was his turn to gape.
"I didn't go all out on him, Headmaster! I was just… I got a bit mad - because…" His heart began to seize with terrible pain as the moments before his family had blown themselves up came up in his mind. He shot a pleading look into his savior's eyes.
"Mister Potter… I… I fear that I do not know what I will be able to do for you if you attack a student here." Slowly, so painfully slow, Dumbledore stepped closer to him until he was sitting on the bed next to him. Harry looked at the entrance, where a pair of shadow's stood.
"Who are they?"
"They, Mister Potter, are the two who subdued you before you committed a heinous act." Harry nodded at the headmaster's words, pretending to accept them. "Mister Potter, murder is not an act to take lightly."
"I wasn't trying to kill him." Harry rebuked, "That would throw off my wind energies!"
For just one second, one fleeting and beautiful moment, Harry saw the twinkle in the old man's eyes before it was gone again.
"Mister Potter, I can only protect you from others if you follow a way of pacifism from now on." Harry specialized in air magics, he knew all about pacifism… after all, the wind energy around him was almost never able to escape his control as long as he mastered himself…
"What do you mean?" Harry could not help but hope…
"I cannot have you sending anyone else to the hospital again, Mister Potter… there are three things I ask of you. Number One: Do not attack anyone else in this institute without true provocation. Number Two:" Harry turned his gaze from his hand to the old man at the second finger. "Apologize to Hagrid when he returns here tomorrow. Thricely and most importantly: Learn to let go of your grudges."
"I'll do my best." Harry answered without thinking about it. It was glorious when the twinkle returned to the kind man's eyes.
"Now, Hagrid will be here in time to take you to your supplies." Harry blinked as the twinkle disappeared behind coldness a moment later. "You will be taking a portkey to Diagon Alley, Mister Potter. A portkey is an inanimate object that has been enchanted to take you from one spot to another while outdoors."
"Okay." Harry bobbed his head, proud he didn't flinch when the two shadows stepped in. One of the people was a stern older lady, the other was an old soul of a man who looked wrong with how old he was. He focused on the woman who had the more natural age to herself when she spoke up.
"Hello, Mister Potter." He wondered if the sternness was part of her mood or if it was her natural attitude. "I am to be your Transfiguration professor. I expect you to maintain a certain level of civility in my classes."
"Yes, ma'am." Her face softened a fraction, but he wouldn't let himself relax. There was still one more person in the room. He swallowed and looked up at him. "What are your names?"
"These are Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall." Dumbledore said, standing up and holding out a hand Harry stared at it before reaching out and grasping it, surprised at the strength that the old man used to pull him to his feet. "Come along, Mister Potter. I was away for too long and you shall be following me to my office."
The other two looked on as he followed the headmaster out of the room into a long stone hallway that stretched on for quite a while before he could see sunlight.
It was warm and the chills that had seeped into his bones began to ebb away. He smiled as he went, many flights of stairs proved harder than they should have. His stomach growled again, an embarrassing noise that sounded almost like breaking wind.
"What have you eaten in your time here, Mister Potter?" The headmaster asked as he snapped his fingers. "I'm partial to some roasted lamb right now. In my office!"
"I don't think asking the castle for food will bring it your way, Headmaster Dumbledore." Harry deadpanned, unwilling to believe the castle was that magical. His eyes widened and his mouth watered as they found their way to stand in front of a gargoyle.
The smells that filled the air were divine.
"You will find, Mister Potter… that the wizarding world is one of beauty and secrets just waiting to be discovered." Harry wasn't distracted enough to lose all sense, so he couldn't help but stare at the bright-clad wizard's back in contemplation when he finished speaking. The gargoyles seemed to spring aside for him, like it was because he began walking again. Harry had to give it to the wizard, he had style.
The smell grew stronger as they paused and the stairs began to move them up to his office. It seemed as though his stomach would betray his hunger again. When Dumbledore opened the door, Harry gasped.
There, on the rich and shaded mahogany desk, lay two plates of perfectly cut meat. He heard someone whispering as the headmaster chuckled and pulled out his wand again, conjuring a perfect chair close to the bigger plate. The headmaster sat at the smaller plate and pointed a finger at the larger plate.
"We do not normally make it a point to starve our students and I will get to the bottom of why you weren't given food in my absence, Mister Potter. I just hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for once again not being there for you."
"If you keep feeding me like this," Harry muttered with reverence as he took his seat at last. "we'll be friends for a long time, sir." Harry grabbed the fork and the knife, recalling how he used them in his rearing grounds. He doubted that the old wizard would appreciate nasty table manners.
When he took the first bite he flinched. His happy chews were not meant to be, after all. He resisted the urge to spit up the provided food. When he did managed to swallow, his stomach protested as he muttered.
"The magic in this food is strong, sir."
"What do you mean?" Dumbeldore continued to eat it and Harry couldn't help the cringe that his body molded into.
"The Elders all told me that food had to be made by hand, to use magic of any sort will only ruin the taste. Even the fire elementals make flames without magic to cook." Harry said matter-of-factly. "If you show me to the kitchens, I can make something for me."
Dumbledore stared at him, impassive for a moment before he smiled a sorrowful sight.
"Mister Potter, the food was made the same way it is made for every student of our school. It will be hard for you to balance your education with preparing all of your meals." Harry looked down at the meal before him, it did look good, but… he sighed and attempted another bite, loathing the taste. He couldn't swallow, his tongue was struggling too hard against tasting it. The temperature was perfect, but the taste was the reason he had wanted this. The headmaster placed his fork down, pulled out a napkin from his sleeve, and tapped his beard and lips with it, effectively degreasing his face. "I will show you to the kitchens, Mister Potter."
"Thank you, sir." Harry said, meaning it.
Next Chapter: The bank trip and my attempt at a shopping trip.
Heya, this is my new fic idea I've been working on for a while. :)
A few things to be featured are: an organic Haphne pairing (though this isn't focused on romance), a peek into certain parts of wizarding culture (Harry picks up some friends that are OCs…), and Harry With Wings (at some point in the future).
In this story, he is an elemental of Air and will be kind of aloof thanks to the trauma he suffered in this chapter. He's repressing his anger/sorrow because he knows he's powerless on his own and is desperately clinging to Dumbledore because he's the closest thing he has to the elders of his past.
I would like it if I could get some reviews telling me what works and what doesn't while I'm writing this story—if you're up for it, I mean.
This story is loosely plotted until the start of second year and I am seeking a beta. If you would like to be a beta for this story and don't mind spoilers, PM me and I'll send you my discord name. We can talk from there
Also, writing Amelia Bones as a mythic bitch who rules her department with a healthy dose of fear and an iron fist is what I was hoping to portray. I've been trying to fit that characterization into my stories, but women like that don't work in Cygnus's world since he knows to avoid them by his mother's treatment.
I am making this protagonist a bit different from Cygnus.
1) Harry will do his best against Voldemort, rather than actively helping him.
2) Harry is younger than Cygnus so expect some immature moments.
3) This Harry will lie quite a bit compared to Cygnus, who deceived others with half truths or twisted words.
I shall be continuing Cygnus Lestrange's story, but as I said multiple times in multiple conversations — "The sixth book was boring."