Disclaimer: In the beginning, nothing of this will be original. Harry potter and all characters plots and elements that are used are property of the author J.K.Rowling. This is an alternate universe fictional story beginning from the end of year one (Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone), the differences should become greater with each chapter.
Avada Kedavra
I was asked to clarify this. Necromancy is a true art though it has not been a study that many have had a chance to persue. A necromancer had the ability to move between life and death. The ritual to do this is pretty long and complex but to simplify it lets break the ritual in several parts.
The first half prepares the body mind spirit and soul to travel to the realm of the dead without coming to harm. This part is to cast spells that prepare as well as ones that locks it to the land of the living.
The second part of the ritual is what actually directs a wizard(body mind spirit and soul) into death without being killed. Without this the wizard could end up anywhere in that realm without the realisation that they were living or dead. If a wizard does not have their wits about them they quickly can become disoriented. When Avada Kedavra is used within this ritual there will be no remains. No body and no ghost.
Voldemort in his quest for immortality has completed some of these processes without realizing their full implications. Fortunately or unfortunately he did not ever leave the land of the living but he did not know that it was necromancy that saved him.
The reason why kills those it is cast upon is that they are not prepared to leave. The body fights strongly against going to the land of the dead and it is at this point that they are torn apart, body left behing in the living as the spirit and soul move to the realm of the dead.
A necromancer can only do the rituals if they fully intend to go to the land of the dead. It is this intent that powers the spell. Avada Kedavra's intent alters slightly when cast on another. The wizard casting it must want the other to die. It may only be used in such a matter with two emotions: pitty (the beleif that the individual is better off dead than alive) or fear (this includes most anger as well fear of what the other could do or would do).
It is this nature which it becomes unblockable with. It is not an attack so it can not be blocked.
Oh! The concepts of dark and light are my own original work, everything else has more influences than any could name in a life time
When Jules first met Anubis, Osirus, and Prometheus (the names came after the meeting) she was a little worried. Together they liked to collectively be called Phobos. (So what if Phobos is quite literally the god of fear?) The fact of how the three headed snake chose names had intrigued her. Apparently they formed a bond with her charge when they sensed him before they hatched.
How Harry came to be there she only had a vague recollection. When she got to the part that a vampire (yeah really the kind from Dracula) had given Harry a potion that was the cause of the green a purple highlights (though the vampire's were only green) now growing from the once entirely ebony haired child. Any one else might have been unnerved but Jules thought the glowing eyes she thought looked cool. Chris actually tested Harry to see if he could read by it.
Back to the flying, flaming, three headed snake that is coiled on one of Harry's pillows. The tiny fact that Harry could and would have conversations with serpents the Masons wrote off as another perk of being a wizard. Now Harry had acted as an interpreter between her and Chris and Phobos the afternoon they returned from their trip under the wizarding district. Apparently, technically speaking, they were neither male or female or rather both since they could produce a fertile egg. Unlike their largest contributing antecedent, the runespoor, they lay the egg like normal snakes. Damon, the vampire, had been kind enough to give Harry a crash course on how to care for the composite genetic soup that Phobos had emerged from, as well as introductions to those that were either friendly or at least not that dangerous, Harry was excited that he had a chat (through a one way mirror) to a basilisk (the Fey Tears should protect them but Damon had not wanted to endanger Harry's life), but the dragon on the other hand was to moody at the time of checking the reserve. The runespoor had to be stunned as the three heads escalated from bickering to attempting to attack each other in an attempt to gain Harry's attention. Phobos just danced in amusement at their antics. This brought on the discussion of how much more even tempered Phobos was compared to most of its gene pool (the hybrid would have been arrogantly strutting if it could). How Phobos decided on its names came from a hunting expedition (after their introduction as Harry's familiar) in the evening.
** Flashback **
Sitting out on one of the lower levels of the garden, the Masons had directed the conversation to the fact that Harry would be missing out of middle and upper school education. Harry acknowledged the fact there would be a rather large gap in his knowledge without any further education but he did not think it was possible to complete both the wizard and non-magical syllabi without harming one or the other. As they had reached a compromise that they would keep in touch during the year by owl and Harry would receive distance tuition. It would be a little more difficult but Harry knew he did not want to really put all of his faith in his future security in the wizarding world. The JP3 (Portable Potion Pantry) had proved an immense help in that he had no set restriction in the books he could bring (though he was positive that some of them would be confiscated if any of the professors found out he had them in his possession). Jules had already loaded a ton of books into it, not the figurative one either. It was good that she had created a decent cataloguing system from the beginning and that the pantry was charmed to never exceed ten kilograms. One compartment for magical books another for the rest (though Harry still could not figure out how the large libraries were accessible with it being barely the size of a briefcase. In trials Chris had watched him put his entire arm in and pull out a series of books. Chris at this point forced the wizard to watch Mary Poppins to better explain how it looked from outside.)
Now back to the next gift that Phobos carried. The family had just started a discussion on Qudditch. ('Do you think you can use just any broom?' Chris had asked while Jules looked on horrified at the idea of her husband trying to fly off the roof) when in the distance they witnessed a decent sized fireball rise into the early evening sky. Quickly walking the paths they stumbled across a clearing that had a reasonable sized circle of burned grass which in the middle of was a certain dazed runespoor hybrid. Harry started quietly hissing to the poor thing (it was this pitiful sight more than any words that Jules' fear for the creature evaporated). A minute of careful stroking latter and Harry started rolling on the ground laughing only to have the middle head came to his face and jabbed the wizard forcefully in between his eyes. Though Harry continued to grin he turned to the Masons to explain, 'They were hunting when they found a hare. Chasing it, the right one found itself to be close enough to snare it. Unfortunately instead of venom, to its great surprise, it happens to inject liquid fire. They were so shocked that when...' there was a hiss from the snakes, which Harry made a quick response to. 'When Prometheus,' Harry quickly levelled a glare at Phobos (when Harry had left Damon's company the denizens of Knockturn's Underground smelt of fear according to them. They became invisible at Harry's request before he entered the Leaky Cauldron's rear entrance) cremated their catch he "squeaked" and fired the fireball,' at which point Prometheus, having completely understood what Harry said, fired a fireball that missed his head by centimetres. The other two heads were shaking (laughing from Harry's point of view) from both Harry's rendition of the story and his near miss with the fireball. It was at this point that both of the Masons were surprised to hear the afore mentioned head growl, only to then send a stream of fire at the other two. The smoke cleared revealing two petrified (only figuratively speaking at this point) heads scared half to death. In a moment they both sent death glares at the first one only to have Prometheus truly petrify. After several minutes of trial and error they figured out how to release him from the curse (as he took their lower body with him otherwise they both swore they would have kept him like that). This was also the time when the other two adopted the names of the Egyptian gods.
Later Harry was told that a death glare from all three, wishing death, could succeed. If it was not their desire the glare caused no harm. Each could petrify at a glance and they could will it away with nothing more than an exertion of will.
** End Flashback **
Jules continued to watch Harry sleep. It was just after seven o-clock. 'How many peaceful nights have this young man experienced in his life?' Jules thought to herself. Harry rolled onto his back and the sound of his deep breathing comforted her. Not wanting to wake him but knowing he had to catch a taxi to get to the station before eleven (he did not want any one to know about the Masons until he knew who he could trust, and how to protect them, hence the taxi).
Jules carefully sat down on the edge of the child's bed and brushed his hair out of his face before caressing his cheek. 'Harry, you have a long day ahead of you. Time to open your eyes,' Jules whispered softly. Harry responded by leaning into the touch and smiling. 'Sweetheart, why don't you go wash up and get dressed and I will make you some waffles,' Jules spoke to Harry in a quiet tone.
His beautiful emerald eyes opened and his entire face lit up with an ear to ear grin. 'Morning Juley,' the young preteen replied with his pet name for her.
'You don't need to rush it should take about twenty minutes for me to cook them,' Mrs Mason replied kissing his forehead, which caused him to adopt a toothy smile as he stretched in his cotton sleeping clothes.
Harry rose from his bed and walked towards his bathroom, grabbing the clothes he had set out last night as he walked past the dresser (a black t-shirt with a grey v-neck sweater over it and a pair of dark forest green cargo pants, something casual but not too casual, nor one of his more expensive outfits). He then stripped off his shirt and began his morning ritual. Looking into the mirror Harry was met with a happy looking young adult. He knew that he would miss his guardians but the fact that there was someone there to care about just Harry felt really good. He was a little nervous about what he was about to do. He had yet to receive a single letter neither from Hogwarts nor from either of his two friends. He was sure that they had their reasons for not contacting him. Maybe because he moved the owls could not find him or maybe they had delivered to the Dursleys and they had been vindictive and the hid or destroyed them. But there was that niggling thought that they had been stopped by the old man. The smile on his face had vanished and anger flashed in his eyes. The boy who lived was at the moment trying to calm down, whatever today brings about will happen and he would face it when it comes. There was no point in dwelling on it. At this point Osirus had nuzzled behind his ear telling him he should get into the shower.
As a thank you for the home that the Masons had given them, the hybrid had caught some presents for them. Unknown to the green eyed soon to be speckled boy, Phobos had recently discovered (during a midnight hunt) that they did not even have to be in the same room for them to remove the petrifaction as they proved by leaving a present of several squirrels for Chris and Jules for breakfast.
The screams were heard while the wizard and his familiar were in the shower (Phobos loves warm water), a wet boy with only a towel raced down the flight of stairs in the hope of reaching them in time...
The thought never completed for the kitchen door had swung out only to hit him square on.
Harry went down.
One hand caught his fall, while the other rubbed his now aching forehead...
Several balls of fur sped across him out the French doors to one of the upper patios.
Jules chased after them with a broom barely noticing the wizard sprawled across the floor.
If that was not bad enough Chris came rushing down the stairs a tie halfway knotted.
Please note that Harry had been holding a towel around his waist, "had" being the keyword.
Everything had happened so fast that he had no time to react.
First thing, Harry James Potter was soaking wet.
Second he hurt. His face and backside both registering a mild ache and was starting to feel cold.
Where was that breeze coming from?
Breeze?
Looking up he discovered the exact reason for this odd sensation. His towel lay near the kitchen door about a metre away from where he was sitting, he would give his wand arm to cover himself.
If that was not bad enough Jules rushed over to him, apologizing profusely, making sure he was all right.
'Harry dear! I am so sorry! Did I hit you hard? Harry?'
The young wizard now officially wished with his whole being that the ground would swallow him up.
Wait what was that?
A flash of light came from over in Chris' direction. Chris was hiding something behind his back. Jules eyes narrowed, 'Christian Xavier Mason! Here now!'
It was at this point that Harry attempted to cover himself up with his hands.
'Hey I figured that since we don't have any naked baby pictures to embarrass him when he invites friends over, that one from when he is twelve would be just as good!' Chris defended himself. If anything were to direct the next course of action Harry would attribute the grin and the glance towards the kitchen door as the catalyst. He had finally managed to retrieve his towel and maintain some dignity.
The Gryffindor's curiosity had risen as he heard something splatter against the closed kitchen door. Pushing open the door he entered the war zone as Chris was battling against Jules. In protective mother mode all bets were with her.
Of course when Harry was coated from head to toe in powdered sugar it meant war.
...
'Molly. Dear -'
'No, Arthur.'
'No one would see. This little button here is an Invisibility Booster I installed - that'd get us up in the air - then we fly above the clouds. We'd be there in ten minutes and no one would be any the wiser ...'
'I said no, Arthur, not in broad daylight.'
The Weasleys had made it to Kings Cross with fifteen minutes to spare.
Percy and Ginny had just pushed the carts through the barrier when Fred (or was it George?) announced he had left his potions book behind in the back seat of the car. George err Fred then noticed that he had left his hat as well. Just as the twins were to run back to grab the said missing items that the youngest male remembered he left behind something important ('Scabbers!') Mrs Weasley instructed them to hurry and quickly return. She would be on the platform.
Ron did not even notice his supposed best friend pushing his cart towards the barrier.
...
'OK nothing to panic about,' he thought to himself trying to stay calm.
'Just because they radiate Dumbledore's magic does not mean they will betray you.'
'Yeah and the fact that you could recite word for word every thing any of them ever said to you just by reading the compulsions is nothing right?,' a voice whispered in the back of his head.
'Hey I might not be reading it right. Maybe a lot of wizards' magical signatures are the same?'
The voice then responded 'Oh and the fact that Ollivander's book clearly stated that no two signatures are alike is total rubbish?'
'Shut up! This is my head, what I say goes!' Harry shouted back at the voice.
'Hate to tell you, bub but, I am your voice of reason,' the voice retorted. 'Now stop worrying about this now! And get to the train, you have five minutes!'
Harry growled audibly and started pushing his cart towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten.
Instead of passing through he toppled his cart as he hit the quite solid brick wall. He ignored the odd look that the guard was giving him.
'Am I too late?' The wizard tried to focus his senses on entry way '...wait a second; I think someone has played around with the barrier spells. The magic seems almost familiar,' the wizard thought to himself.
Harry closed his eyes and let his sense of magic fully take over. He took a closer look and the feeling of something on the tip of his tongue increased ten fold.
'It is not wizarding per say, or does it have the alert magic of those from the Underground, 'the thoughts finally sparked, 'The Dursley's! It is that queer signature I felt before I pulled the wards down!'
Harry quickly directed the entire focus of his magic on tracing the charms trying to locate the ones with the correct intent. The one that allowed passage had a few tricky strands tied into it. 'Damn the only way I can remove it would shatter the charms that I need. Unless...'
Soon after Harry lifted his trunk into the crimson train.
Two minutes to departure.
...
'Don't worry Ronikens; I am sure he just crawled into Percy's cloak or something. We promise to help you look for him when we get on the train,' both the twins were holding back their laughter because they noticed earlier this morning that Scabbers was quite comfortable where he was, nesting on top of their little brothers head.
The three Weasleys hurried along towards the barrier.
They may have been cutting it close with just over a minute to spare. They just had to get on the train; they could find seats while it was moving.
'What could go wrong?' Gred err maybe Forge thought as he moved to step through the barrier.
*thonk*
Followed by two simultaneous thuds as the remaining Weasley men crashed into the back of the first twin. After the obligatory cursing (they did not hold their wand while they did it so no need to worry) the three watched as the station clock ticked over to eleven sharp.
'It's gone,' said Ron, sounding stunned. 'The train's left. What if Mum and Dad can't get back through to us? Have either of you got any Muggle money?'
The dumbfounded look shared between the twins answered Ron better than words could.
Ron pressed his ear to the cold barrier.
'Can't hear a thing,' he said tensely. 'What're we going to do? I don't know how long it'll take Mum and Dad to get back at us.'
Ron was shocked.
In attempt to connect the thoughts he came to a conclusion.
'If I never took Scabbers with me in the car we would be heading to Hogwarts right now!'
'Hey Gred do you think it is time to implement the plan?'
'As long as you can deal with the Howler Forge,' at which point the twins grabbed Ron under the arms on either side.
'Put me down! Where are you taking me?'
'There is nothing to fear ickle Ronnie. Our transport is already provided for us with the aide of the Invisibility Booster, we even mapped it out at one point.'
'And after all, we are doing Dad a favour by testing it...'
When Ron continued on with the witless look Fred smack himself in the forehead and without any hesitation continued to slap Ron's forehead too.
'What George is implying is that our wonderful Father has in his possession a flying car,' Fred tried to be as slow and concise as possible. Ron continued his cross between blank and angry look. He had no clue and he continued to get angrier the longer he had no clue. George then threw in the last possible hint before he strangled his dense ignoramus that he not so lovingly called his baby brother 'Above mentioned car just so happens to be parked across the road... Never mind just watch and learn.'
...
'...you believe that we are having Lockhart, the Gilderoy Lockhart as a professor?!' A curly haired boy in neat muggle clothes was speaking to another whose robes may have been a size or two to tight.
Harry at this point was dragging his trunk down the bright red and gold train's corridor. He had felt the dormant feel of Dumbledore's magic seeping through every millimetre of the transport.
Harry instantly felt Dumbledore's signature reeking from the slimmer boy. While the stout one carried only his own unique signature (though Harry felt that this was a little on the weak side).
The Gryffindor stayed squeezed up against the wall to allow them to pass.
The now very confused wizard continued dragging his trunk trying to find a compartment that was relatively free of the Headmaster's magic (the every compartment had so far held traces of it though it felt as though it was hardly active.) He barely nodded at Dean when he waved, "be friendly to the Boy," Dumbledore's whispered suggestions were there, except they were not suggestions. Focusing on the magic specifically, a cold chill ran down Harry's spine, he analysed what he was seeing. They were triggered by his own presence and instead of brushing his mind it directed it. "Not to close but observe..." If that was not bad enough the muggle born's memory held parts of the charms that covered the Pensieve from the rune shop, like his memories were just as accessible. He could almost feel the tendril of thought and memory trailing off into the ether.
Harry's thoughts spiralled out of control and he pulled his trunk into the first compartment that was Dumbledore free.
Only to find him self facing one of the people he would normally not like to see.
...
Draco Malfoy was surprised (not pleasantly at all) when his rival rushed into his compartment pulling his trunk in before closing the door.
Potter had a look of a rabbit caught in wand light.
When the annoyance locked his eyes on him and the proceeded to bang his head against the wall, several times, the composure that the Malfoy heir had attempted to gather was lost again.
Before he could let out one of his witty responses Potter mumbled, 'excuse me' and walked back into the hallway, shutting the door firmly behind him.
...
'...damn, damn, damn, damn,' was all that was going through Harry Potter's mind. Wanting to get someplace where he could sit and collect his thoughts, Harry followed his instincts to an empty compartment four doors up. The now familiar weight of Phobos curled invisibly on his left arm comforted the boy who lived. Closing the door firmly behind him and then adding two or three locking charms to it as well as repelling and distracting ones for good measure. Any one who came towards the door would now be reminded that they should be in their seat or would find the ceiling to interesting to ignore.
Harry sat down after he placed his trunk on the opposite seats. Harry closed his eyes trying to figure out exactly what was going on.
OK first the kid in the muggle clothes was programmed while the other one was not.
Dean Thomas had it while Draco Malfoy did not.
Virtually every other compartment that Harry walked by had the minimum of one who was Dumbledore's puppet? Minion? What?
To top it off the Weasleys had a hundred times more of the event triggered commands. In fact Harry was not even sure if there were real people in there.
Maybe it had something to do with muggle clothing?
...
Hermione Granger was nervous about her friend that was supposed to be here. The fact that one of her friends were not coming this year made her value the other ones presence even more. At the moment she was sitting in a compartment with Neville Longbottom, who was always kind enough to her. They were house mates but to be honest she felt that she had nothing to talk about.
Neville on the other hand could feel the tension in the compartment escalating. In order to break he tried to ask the first question that came to his mind 'Where are Harry and Ron?'
He would latter regret this attempt every time he would board the Hogwarts Express. He never would recall most of the charms that Hermione had cast at him.
...
Recalling the charms that saturated Dean's mind, Harry's thoughts had centred on the Penseive from the rune shop, which then led to the recollection of the scroll handed to him by the elf. He pulled it out and grabbed a moderately sized rune book from JP3.
He set to work trying to translate each rune. Getting out a quill and some ink, Harry wrote the meanings of each rune underneath.
...Life... Light...Magic...Dark...Death...
Wondering what he was supposed to Harry studied the piece of parchment carefully. When there was nothing on the back side he turned it back over only to find his written answers missing. In their place stood ten additional runes.
...Birth...See...Blessing...Think...Spirit...Creation...Hear...Curse...Feel...Destruction...
This time he focused on the parchment as his ink rearranged itself to form even more runes.
It was a half an hour latter that the wizard noticed he was no longer using the book as a reference. The runes directed what the next ones would be and to Harry it just made sense. At this point the nature of the parchment changed to start directing him how to cast, charge, move, discharge, erase, and to destroy the working runes. Then it moved on to intrinsic differences between different races use of runes. How wizards used it to direct charms but dark forest elves actually used it to create the charms themselves. It continued with describing methods that were lost over the years for better or worse. He was so absorbed in the parchment that he missed the train stopping and everyone departing. It took Anubis gentle nipping to bring his attention to the fact that he was the last one on the train. Exiting his compartment Harry made his way to the lone remaining carriage. He caught sight of the slightly transparent Thestrals before getting in by himself. As they passed the edge of the Hogwarts grounds he could feel the ancient wards welcoming him. He also felt the newer wards of Dumbledore and he thought that he might be sick. He made it to the castle so that he could get in behind the rest of the school before quietly seating himself at the far end of the Gryffindor table in the hope not to bring attention on to himself.
...
The Headmaster though had felt the young Potter's presence the instant his wards discovered him. The fact that the boy appeared perfectly fine and healthy knew he was going have to alter some memories. It would force him to modify some of his plans but it probably is for the best. Dumbledore at this point started to think through what needed to be adjusted. Mrs. Granger would have to be first, but he knew that he could do it from where he sat. None of the Weasleys would be a problem and the Boy's own would be a little difficult but no where near impossible.
He would send for him tomorrow.
Ah the sorting is about to begin. Let's see what secrets these first years hold. The voice of the sorting hat spoke clearly in his mind. He saw the memories that the hat sorted through in order to decide each student's placement.
He was actually quite disappointed with what he saw. Some spoiled, others ignored, and one's whose treatment bordered on neglect and even the occasional abused child. Little matter it would make them easier to control with a kind word or gentle pat.
Virginia Weasley, how interesting. He tried to figure out how he missed it earlier. Apparently Tom Riddle left a diary with his memories behind. This would be a perfect way to finally destroy Slytherin's chamber. Now how to turn this situation to his advantage?
'Gryffindor!!'
...
Harry saw the connection of the Sorting to the Headmaster. He noticed how the students slipped it on only to take it off again. Several of the children being sorted already wore Dumbledore's magic. These kids would then be sorted into Gryffindor, Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. Yet not one Slytherin. Looking over at their table Harry found only two students with Dumbledore's magic in the entire house and these were rather weak at best.
When the red headed girl headed towards the table Harry suddenly felt the castles wards shift in alarm. They attempted to open the windows above the head table but Dumbledore's magic was holding them closed. This magic was not connected to Dumbledore directly though so he probably could not feel the stretching of them. Harry did the only thing he could and pointed his wand at them and willed Dumbledore's locking charm away.
At this point two things happened simultaneously. The castle breathed a sigh of relief; the young wizard felt it caress his mind giving the feeling of thanks, and an old light blue Ford Angelina crashed through the open window and right into the head table. It shuddered a moment then spat out three red heads and a rat only to leave through the door to the entrance conveniently left open by a gaping Professor Snape only to hear a cry in the Entrance Hall from a shocked Filch.
The following deafening silence was broken by one of the twins turning to the hall.
'Have we missed the sorting?'
OK just for SlytherinDamian I am going to make this slash. How hard it is going to be to get twelve year old together is part of the chalenge right?
To be honest I like slash but even if I were to make this slash I would not have anything to at least fourth or fifth year. Personally I like the concept of Harry being bi even though there has been no such evidence in the books. (Justin Finch-Fletchley is gay right? I swear I could hear the implied drool in the green house over Lockhart.)
I appologise in advance Hermione has no chance with Harry in this story. His ability to trust her will soon be completely shot. Cho Chang I am thinking of setting up with Justin specifically because he is gay.
Then again getting Damon a boyfriend could be interesting because to me vampires can't procreate sex with any person would be fine. To be honest does anyone think decades of celibacy could be at all possible?
When romances do become part of the story they will never be the only focus. There is nothing I can't stand more than a story that takes twenty chapters to pair off everybody. As well Dumbledore will not be getting any. Just the very idea of him with anyone squeeks me.
If someone gives me a convincing enough argument (that is not derogatory in nature) I may change my mind (heck it changes every other day).
Oh and also you would have to find me a female cannon character that Harry could stand (no Gryffindors or Blaise Zambini).
Oh and speaking of Blaise and the french thingy all words in french are either feminine or masculine. If they want it to be nutural then they use the femanine form. Does anyone have proof? I have yet to find the supposed interview where JK confirms it.
Till next time!