Harry Potter and the Rising Cinders
When cruelty sends Harry deep inside himself, he's not prepared for what he finds or the world it opens for him. First Person AU, where Harry is an unknown orphan, and the wizarding world has much bigger problems than blood purity and returning dark lord.
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I own nothing but my imagination, so take what you want; just give me an honorable mention in the notes.
Despite the synopsis, the rest of this is in first person.
Please bear with the intro; dreams tend to be a little confusing.
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Icy rain pelts my skin, soothing the bruises and washing much of the mud off as I lay curled up against the tree. My body hurts so much that I don't even want to think of sitting up, let alone going back to my aunt and uncles.
"Let us off at the playground!"
That had been all my fat cousin had to say after the fiasco at the zoo. Caught between him and Peirs I never had a chance.
One of the back corners of the neighborhood playground has a lovely thick copse of trees, making it a favorite spot for Dudley's gang to beat up other kids.
They'd gotten bored, or exhausted, fairly quickly and wandered back home, leaving me here. It was dark now and, to no surprise. No one would bother to come looking for me after all. Not that I'm complaining since it's a given that aunt Petunia would just hiss at me to get up in that shrill voice of hers. Vernon would step on me. Possibly even by accident.
I close my eyes and imagine being free for once. Free of the Dursleys. Free of Dudley's gang. Free of Little Whinging.
The idea is so nice I never even notice drifting off despite the cold rain. I do notice how nice the small grove smells, the rich earth mixing with the trees. There is an oily scent from car exhaust, but it's thankfully muted.
It really is a very nice scent when all mixed together. I think as I dream about exploring a forest by its scent alone.
The rich scents of trees mixing with the sharper scents of the bushes and sweeter ones coming from flowers, all mingling with the healthy decay coming from the ground.
The scent I like the most is the rain.
Even now, the feel of it running through my hair is no longer quite so cold as it passes through the thick mass but never quite reaching my skin. It tickles, and I suddenly have the urge to shake vigorously.
Water whips away in shimmering arcs, and my ribs protest the motion enthusiastically, dragging a grunt of pain from me.
It comes out as an oddly high-pitched yelp, and when I try to rub my chest to ease the pain, my arm contorts in even more pain as if someone had just tried to rip it out of its socket.
Caught off guard, I somehow manage to fall onto my side. I frown, not remembering getting on to all fours in the first place. Soft whines echo from my throat where a groan should have been.
Suddenly I'm no longer alone as a massive shadow comes from know where to settle beside me. Green eyes set over a narrow black-furred muzzle full of ivory-colored fangs gaze inquisitively down from where the wolf stands over me. At the center of the beast's forehead is a twisted tuft of white that could be a lightning bolt but looks more like a claw or talon.
The beast nuzzles me gently with its nose, licking my head and ears affectionately as I try to stand. My limbs feel awkward as I force them under me and try to return to my hands and knees. That's when I notice my hands are now large paws covered in black fur. Yelping in surprise, I straighten my limbs so quickly I actually jump almost a foot into the air.
I come crashing down in a heap.
The wolf is by my side in an instant, mouth hanging open in a wide grin as he jumps playfully on my side with his front paws before lowering his head to rub it affectionately against mine. Excited yips and snarls fill the air as it darts about me, trying to get me to play.
You'd think it was a puppy. I can't help but feel as I watch the beast jump about. It's enormous for its age if it really is a puppy; the bloody thing's almost as big as I am.
I try to stand again, leaning heavily on the wolf who, for once, stands very still. Just as I make it to my feet, I realize I can see the tip of my nose in front of me. It's a little strange, especially with how it blocks a portion of my vision, but at the same time, my eyesight has suddenly become incredible. Even with glasses, my eyes have never been all that great, but now I can make out things as fine as the texture of the bark and leaves, even in the dim twilight currently filling the forest.
Beside me, the wolf yips and nips my ears playfully. Caught by surprise, I try to tell it to stop, but it comes out as a sharp growl. The wolf is undeterred and actually jumps at me, shoving me with its paws, toppling me over all over again.
The whole process repeats for what feels like hours but eventually leads to me not only being able to stand comfortably but even jump and run with some degree of grace as we race about the forest.
A heavy mist had formed while we played. It adds an extra sense of mystery to the woods as I chase after my friend's black flanks, even as he darts between the trees with impossible speed.
He vanishes over a large boulder, and I don't hesitate to follow. I clear its eight-foot height just as easily, front paws catching the smooth lip with ease, not losing an announce of momentum. I'm still not fast enough, and my friend's already vanished in the bare heartbeat I lost sight of him.
In the distance, a long eerie howl penetrates the thick mist and twilight-strewn woods. It's calling to me to join him, telling me he's sighted prey, offering me a chance to share in his hunt. My stomach growls, and I race to join him.
Faster and faster I run, the tangled brush, frequent boulders, and fallen trees no obstacle in my pursuit. I'm quick to pick up his scent. It's thick and musty and speaks of good health and power. His prey is fainter and much more pleasant, driving me on even faster.
Until she screams.
She's young, terrified, and very, very human.
Knowing I can't let the wolf harm the girl, if only because he'll shot if he does, I manage to go just that much faster, breaking into a small clearing overlooking a large ravine.
She's is younger then I'd feared, younger than me even. She's running from her hunter, her once fine dress is heavily stained from the forest, and her white-blond hair has leaves caught in it.
Her hunter is not the wolf either. In fact, it's no wolf at all, not with those long, faintly humanoid limbs, its massive build exceeding both mine and the girl's put together. Its head is all wolf, just as oversized as the rest of the monster.
The girl trips, leaving me no time to think or slow, and I pelt towards the beast. Leaping the last ten feet, I slam against the beast with all four limbs, sending both of us to the ground in a tangled mess right at the edge of the ravine.
Fire flares as the beast's claws score across my shoulder, and I yelp in pain as I struggle to free myself.
I do, but not with another shallower rake closer to my back legs. Despite the pain, I force myself between the girl and the beast. It snarls viciously at me, outrage by my interference coming out in a blood-curdling rumble. My chest rattles and my shoulder and sides ache as I answer back in kind.
The beast's anger fades as it looks at me almost inquisitively, clearly wondering why I'm interfering in its hunt. Any chance, if there ever really was one, to lead it away vanishes as the girl behind me moves.
The beast lunges.
Left with no options, I ram my uninjured shoulder into the beast's leg, throwing my entire body against it. In a moment of unconceivable luck, the beast topples over my back and crashes down the ravine in an uncontrollable roll, rapidly vanishing into the mist below. I listen to it fall for a while longer, each meaty thump or wet crack kindling just a bit more hope that it's all over. I watch even after everything goes silent; ears pricked for the slightest sound, but nothing comes.
Pain from my wounds starts to set in, and I look toward the girl who's still staring at where the beast and fallen. I force my legs to work, but even staggering to the girl's side leaves me panting for breath. Despite the pain, I croon softly at the girl as I try to smell for injuries over the scent of my own blood. It's there but too faint to be anything more than a handful of bad scratches.
The girl startles a little as I brush my nose against her cheek, ocean grey eyes widening behind silky blond hair tangled from the chase as she meets my eyes. I step back, thinking I startled her, but surprise shifts rapidly to panic. "Don't- don't go." Her grey eyes become a stormy mix of emotion as she reaches out to me.
I hesitate, if only because I know I'm covered in blood, even if it doesn't show. The three claw marks against my shoulder are particularly painful, and I can feel the slow but steady trickle beneath my fur running down my leg. I take another step back, and pain or possibly fear flashes in the girl's eyes like a lightning bolt in their depths. My gut clenches in sudden guilt, and I move back to her side.
The storm settles, and the girl smiles at me, tentatively offering her hand. I sniff it gently, enjoying the underlying herbal scent the forest and dirt fail to cover. It's a warm, interesting scent that verges on the edge of spicy, but more importantly, it's familiar. I'm not sure where but I know I've smelled it before.
So fixated on her scent, I don't see the hand coming until it's brushing against my cheek, small fingers slipping through the stiff pelt. I flinch and try to jump back, but my injured limb finally falters, and I end up sprawling across the girl's lap instead.
Pain lances up my shoulder from the gashes dragging a yelp of pain from me as my limbs flail as I try to right myself.
The girl gasps, no doubt seeing the blood now coating her dress. I try to scramble away from her, but her arms catch me around the neck with surprising strength. " Don't move; you'll make it worse." Her voice is more desperate than confident as she tries to hold me in place.
"LYRA!" A man shouts off in the distance.
"UNCLE!" She shouts back. "I'M OVER HERE; I NEED HELP!"
I hear the rustling of someone charging through the underbrush at a reckless pace for a human, and it doesn't sound like he's alone.
The tension racking the girl's body slowly dwindles as the footsteps draw near, and I half expect her to pass out as they rush up to us. She doesn't, and I can just barely make out the face of a tall, pale-skinned blond man as he catches her about the shoulders in a tight hug. "Merlin be praised; what happened, Lyra?" He hisses out between heavy gasps for air.
Despite his clearly winded and slightly bedraggled condition, calling this man handsome would be like calling Vernon fat. Accurate, but also a grotesque understatement. The difference is only augmented by his apparent lack of regard for the fine material of his clothes. At a guess, I'd say it would be a coin toss whether Vernon would get as equally dirty for Dudley's sake, and his clothes aren't even half as expensive.
Lyra shares many of his features, including her hair and nose. "It was a werewolf, uncle; I don't know how it got through the wards, but it had my scent; I would have died if this dog hadn't helped me."
The other man that I still can't see whistles in admiration. "That's no dog Lyra, bloody things a wolf or at least a crossbreed."
"I can see that, uncle Severus, thank you very much; now, could you please heal him before he bleeds out." The girl replies testily.
I hear this uncle Severus chuckle, followed by footsteps as he makes his way around us. A strange tingle washes across my fur, tickling the skin beneath and making me squirm. Lyra tightens her hold ever so slightly. "You need to stay still."
"He's sensitive to magic; I've barely done more than a light diagnostic; most occulmens aren't this talented." The man states, clearly impressed.
"So he's not just a wolf?" The man still holding the girl asks, clearly just as fascinated.
"Definitely, but I'll be damned if I can guess what else he is," Severus answers, clearly half-distracted. "Bloody beast has a magic core worthy of a talented Animagus, but he's too young, wouldn't be more than nine or ten as a human."
The fire in my shoulder and side begins the fade, turning into an aggravating itch, then an annoying tickle before finally fading to nothing. "This one is full of surprises; I've seen veterans squirm more from lighter wounds."
"I know that isn't a shot at that time back in the Black Forest." The blond man states imperiously, but he's also fighting a smile.
"Didn't mention any names, did I, Marius?"
Lyra ignores the older men as she helps me back to my feet. While the pain is gone, my head is swimming somewhat, making standing even on four limbs a trial.
I get my first look at the man who healed me. The first thing I notice is that, if possible, he's even paler than the blond one, but it's probably because of his hair. It's as black as mine, contrasting violently with his skin. Beyond that, his most distinctive feature is his prominent hooked nose, overlooked by a narrow pair of jet-black eyes.
Despite his somewhat unfortunate features, he's nearly as broad-shouldered as the blond, if better hidden by his plain black robes when compared to the blond man's finer silver and green ones. Their also distinctly loser giving them a flowing quality to their appearance.
Something brushes against my ears, and I look back at Lyra, realizing the girl petting me. Her small hands trail from my ears across the thick fur covering the back of my neck. The sensation isn't entirely unwelcome, but it does make me feel somewhat awkward. I'm not a dog, after all.
When her hands get too close to my throat, some instinct raises my lips in a soft growl as I pull my head away.
She pouts but doesn't press her luck, showing admirable restraint for her age. Marius chuckles and holds out his hand. Instead of smelling it like I think he expects, I just look at him. Something about my expression sends Severus into a coughing fit while Lyra giggles, quickly covering the sound and her mouth with her hands.
The man, in turn, looks so perplexed that it takes him a moment to notice the other's reactions. When he does, he goes stiff for a moment before chuckling lightly. "Should have known this cheeky girl would attract a kindred spirit." The mutter emerges with a distinct note of fondness as he rises to his feet, pulling Lyra up with him.
"Can we bring him with us?" Lyra all but pleads.
Her uncle shrugs. "That's really up to him, Lyra; he could be as wild as they come."
I'm not, not that I have any way to tell them that, so instead, I huff and brush my head against Lyra's stomach. She laughs in delight, and I feel her fingers running along the back of my neck once again.
"I suppose that settled then," Severus comments dryly. "I hope Dobby doesn't mind cleaning up all the fur."
Marius grins. "Or feel too much like a potential snack."
Lyra laughs and continues to pet me. "I doubt he'll be interested in eating a house elf; Dobby will probably look too weird to him to be appetizing."
"Worst comes to worst, Dobby will just toss him our dinner and run the other away." Marius retorts playfully.
A snort explodes from Snape's lips. "I didn't realize Dobby was quite so petty as to leave us to go hungry."
"Never underestimate any creature's vindictiveness when he knows he's been wronged." The blond man speaks in a pompous tone that gets both Lyra and Severus chuckling.
I, on the other hand, spot an opening. Pulling away from Lyra, I nip sharply at the man's hand, only just barely missing. Marius jumps with an unmistakable yelp as he jerks away from me. I don't bother to follow.
Lyra and Severus are all but falling over with laughter. Lyra actually leans over me as she tries to breathe through the mirth shaking her.
Marius is quick to compose himself before looking me dead in the eye. "This is war, understood?"
I only grin and sit, leaning against Lyra as I do. The girl looks over the moon with satisfaction.
"Honestly Marius, if you're going to declare war on something, at least pick a creature with wits equal to yours." Severus drawls.
"The bloody beast started it." The blond isn't whining. Or at least his cultured accent hides it.
"I know, and I said equal to yours." Severus shoots back dryly.
Lyra tries to muffle her giggles into my thick fur. It doesn't work, and Marius grows a distinctly pained expression at the evident betrayal. Finally, he raises his hands in surrender. "Fine, even I can see where this wind is blowing."
"Good, because we need to get this one home before Narcissa comes hunting for us," Severus replies crisply, one hand squeezing Lyra's shoulder firmly.
Marius doesn't shiver, but his spine notably straightens at the name. "Of course, come along, dear; we really shouldn't be keeping your mother waiting, you coming beast?"
I answer with a sharp huff, pulling away from where I was still leaning against Lyra.
"Sounds like a yes. Can you walk, Lyra?"
She nods. "Yes, uncle," She answers firmly.
Neither her words nor evident confidence is enough to convince her uncle, his entire demeanor shifting with surprising swiftness. "Speak up if that changes; you should be crashing at any moment."
His words are prophetic as we barely walk for more than ten minutes before she starts to lean heavily against my side. Severus doesn't bother to wait for her to speak, scooping her up in his arms. Her protests are faint and slightly slurred as she fights against the sleep pulling her under.
I vaguely wonder why I'm not feeling the same, if not worse, but brush the thought off as I follow the two men. All the while, I keep my ears pricked for any sound of the monster returning.
None comes, and as the brush begins to rapidly thin, the forest gives way to the sight of a rather impressive gothic-oriented mansion.
From the lack of a proper pathway and the rather austere grass and grounds covering the space between the forest's end and the beginning of the house's veranda, this must be the back. I reason even as we cross the well-tended grounds.
An attractive blond woman in grey dress-like robes bursts from the house, a man clearly related to Marius on her heels.
"Lyra!" The woman shouts even as she snatches the girl from Severus's arms.
Lyra pouts tiredly at her. "Mother," She protests, clearly not ready to wake up.
The woman only holds her daughter tighter, either rocking her gently or barely keeping herself from shaking. "Thank the old ones your safe."
The man says nothing as he rests an arm across both his daughter's and wife's shoulders, head bowed to rest against the crown of Lyra's head.
"Aye, she had Hecate's favor this time or possibly even Artemis' given her savior," Severus states, the drawl replaced by something I can't describe.
The man and woman look up as one, both clearly confused. Marius and Severus point at me. Both stare at me for a long moment. Long enough that I sit and look up at Severus.
The dark-haired man looks away, covering his mouth with a hand as he does as if yawning, but I can see his smile from where I'm standing.
"This animal. . . saved Lyra?" The man's voice is slightly deeper than his brothers, but that could be from the undoubtedly intense emotions he was no doubt keeping in check.
"He has good taste if a questionable sense of humor," Marius comments dryly. His dignity is clearly still smarting from my little prank.
His humor doesn't help. "He saved Lyra." The woman very nearly parroted her husband, blue eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"Cost him the better part of a pint of blood if I had to guess, given how much Lyra's still wearing," Severus adds, gesturing towards the girl.
Lyra's mother very nearly throws the still-drowsy girl into her husband's surprised arms as she takes in the girl's the dark splotches covering the girl's dress, turning the beautiful pine green nearly black.
The most prominent is centered right in the girl's lap, the cloth still damp enough to reflect a faint scarlet sheen. Some of it had even stained the front of woman's robes, the scarlet fluid showing easily on the grey material.
"Donum Sanguinis." The strange words once again have a note in them I'm unfamiliar with as the way Narcissa quickly wraps Lyra back into a tight embrace with a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob.
"Momma?" Lyra finally loses the poise she'd managed to hold even through her exhaustion. Now the softer endearment slips out as her mother gently strokes her hair even as she leaves gentle kisses across her temple.
"The old laws dear one," Her mother explains. "Blood freely given, for good or ill, must be returned." She laughs brightly at her daughter's sudden expression of confused fear. "Not literally, dearest, at least in this case, but for all intents and purposes, you're his ward as much as our daughter now."
"Narcissa," the man snaps.
"Oh hush, Lucius, what do you expect the beast to do?"
"It's the principle of the matter."
"That only shows just how little history you know," His wife replies, clearly enjoying herself. "Dozens of famous wizards and witches were saved by such familiars over the years, much like our little eagle." Long graceful fingers run through Lyra's hair. "Our child has been shown favor beyond our wildest dreams Lucius; just be happy for her already."
Happy is clearly the last thing the man wants to be, not that I blame him. The obvious straw to break the tension turns to look at him, grey eyes pleading silently. He sighs but nods silently, and Lyra nearly squeals in joy as she throws her arms about her father's neck in a tight hug.
"What will you call him?" Her mother asks
Lyra pulls away from her father, eyes thoughtful darkening their cloudy depths. They light up barely a moment later. "Corvus."
Snape chuckles. "You're naming your wolf dog after the wolf bird?"
"Yes, he's smart enough for it, besides he's he got that white talon on his forehead." If I really am just a wolf, she might be on to something there.
"A fitting name dear one," Narcissa praises her daughter gently moves to stand only a few feet from me before offering a small. "Welcome the ancient house of Malfoy young Corvus."
IIIII
And there's chapter one for you.
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Crest under the World's Ashes
Needles play up my spine as the goddess gently traces the line I just wrote with a fingertip. "Why, Pendragon? Her kind turned our gods, their angels, and nearly the galaxy to ashes." Eyes of sunlit blood meet mine as Athena favors me with a gorgeous smile. "I expect a resounding finish to this, Julian, understood?"
Corvus: Raven constellation though in modern English means crow.
Lyra: Represents either the vulture or eagle on star maps and is frequently referred to as Vultur Cadens or Aquila Cadens
Donum Sanguinis: Gift of Blood.
More information on Google, all translation errors are their fault.