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Chapter 2 : Once More From The Top
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The week quickly passed by at Hogwarts as Harry spent his time in the library. Being around Hermione Granger, the smartest Red Mage of her generation paid off as his study skills had improved after his OWL Results. Some things he noticed were the same, but the general tone of the world was so different.
Wizards had spells for everything from turning on the cooker to shutting of the Telly, if they even had one. Defensive spells such as Protego which amounted to a weaker version of Shell and the infamous three Unforgivables.
Crucio, Harry found seemed to be a more focused version of the Demi spell. As Demi literally sucked the life out of someone, Crucio inflicted pain through igniting the nerve endings of the body. Demi was also counterable with a Reflect Spell and Harry wondered to himself if the magic spell Crucio could be also Reflected.
The second one, Imperio had no real counterpart to it in his own world. But his world had a history of Slave Crowns being used on monsters and even people. A spell that could control someone to do anything. The thought of the spell made Harry's spine tingle with anticipation of finding a counter from his world for it.
The third, the Avada Kedavra brought him most of his attention. An unblockable Killing Curse, and highly lethal. Voldemort favored it and it seemed to be the fear of every wizard that they would find someone they know struck down by the Curse. Only one survivor of it was found, and it was to no big surprise, himself. Or at least the one of his world.
During his time in the school, he had met up with various Professors and learned some simple and basic things about the wizarding world. Transfiguration was a lesser used section of his own magical theory, as Hermione was the big expert in the Transmogrifiable spells. Professor McGonagall demonstrated several spells, which were more advanced than his worlds. But his worlds spells had the added advantage against an opponent as turning them into a helpless Frog or shrinking them with Mini would turn the tables of their fighting. After some experimentation, Harry found that a single Maiden's Kiss item would cure a transfiguration.
Professor Flitwick had eagerly shown him the Charms of day to day life, demonstrating simple hover charms and such. The amount of charms that a wizard could learn in seven years was quite an astounding amount. When Harry had asked the tiny wizard how wizards stayed fit, he was given a lesson in Quidditch.
Quidditch was a disaster, one disaster that Harry would have loved to avoid. Madam Hooch, the flying instructor showed him how to call and mount a broom. It was there when Harry's fear of flying kicked in.
Even back home, he hated going onto the Airship that would bring students back and forth from Hogwarts to London. He hated the sensation of wind whipping around it, and he clung to the nearest chair, not moving for the whole trip. Luckily he did not get sick going on the train, but the feeling of "Going to be sucked out" was predominant in his life. Sirius before he had died and become his Aeon, admitted that even as a baby, Harry disliked flying. Needless to say, Harry would not be playing Quidditch for the remainder of his stay.
That evening, the castle was lit up brightly as Harry stepped out of the Library. Even in two worlds, Madam Pince could be really vicious around her books. Straightening his Red Mage cloak, Harry made sure to hide his small horn with his feathered hat. Most of his childhood he spent wearing oversized hats to keep people from staring at his horn. It was a small thing, only three inches in length but it served the purpose of connecting him to the Aeons whom he called family.
Picking up his sword and buckling it to his belt, Harry straightened his cloak and marched down to the Great Hall. Students of the second to the seventh years were already in the room, many of them complaining of the long train ride to the school. The first years were awaiting sorting as Professor McGonagall was conspicuously absent. In Hagrid's place was Professor Grubby-Plank, a woman he had once met in passing when Harry was introduced to the staff. Hagrid was off in the mountians somewhere on the mainland with Madam Maxine.
In the seat of the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor was the Ministry flunky, Professor Umbridge. Harry did not draw attention to himself around her. He knew how the cruel witch worked and thought. How he would have loved to make her fall down the stairs onto a Frog Spell, but he had more creative things in store for the woman.
As he swept into the room, several people noticed his arrival and denoted his red robes as monochrome Gryffindor robes or a visitor. Sitting down in the Gryffindor Table amidst a couple of other students, Harry adjusted his thin lensed glasses and waited.
"Excuse me," said a voice from Harry's left. Harry turned to look at a young boy whom he recognised as Colin Creevey and his brother Dennis. Both were dressed in the same black robes of the students with Gryffindor Badges on the front of their robes. In his world however, Colin had taken on the role of the White Mage and his brother, a bit more mischevious of the two, became a Thief. "Are you related to Harry Potter?"
Harry blinked at the question as he considered his options. Dumbledore may announce his arrival as a special guest. The "Cousin" of Harry Potter, James. A slightly unoriginal name to be sure of, considering it was his middle name, but Harry had to agree. No sense letting Death Eater children discover his power and write to their mums and dads. On the other hand, he may just let Harry integrate with the students more naturally, rather than calling a celebrity status. "I'm James Potter, Harry Potter's cousin. Pleasure to meet you," said Harry as he shook hands with Colin and Dennis.
Dennis and Colin had that same worshipful expression on their faces as his own Creavey twins had when he was still in school. 'Still am,' Harry reminded himself. "Wow," said Dennis. "I didn't know Harry Potter had a cousin."
"Our families are main and branch. Our fathers didn't get along very well." said the newly dubbed James. A half truth as well. James Potter, Harry's father had a elder brother who had gone to Hogwarts before him. But he and his family had been killed by Dark Knights two years after Daniel Potter had become infamous in the Paladin Circles. It was one of the reasons why he had gone to the Dursleys. Harry had suggested the idea for his cover, and the Professors agreed to it.
"Who was your father?" asked Colin in his excited and breathless manner.
"Daniel Potter, five years James Potters elder." Harry turned to the front of the hall where the First Years had lined up. Many of the children were whispering nervously. Euan Ambercrombie, a boy he remembered staring at him and looking away terrified at meeting the 'insane Harry Potter' stood in the middle of the group.
At the front, Professor McGonagall set down the stool and the ratty old Sorting Hat. After a moment, the rip at the front opened up and began to sing. Harry immediately recognised the song as the one sung during his fifth year, with some slight deverations. Looking down the table, he saw a ghost who looked fairly like Headless Nicholas, a Blue Mage who was beheaded by a monster back in the sixteenth century by a group of Trolls. But this one was not dressed in the same armor and robe combonation as most Blue Mages wore, and his head seemed to wobble slightly as if it had not yet parted from his shoulders. Sitting near him were three people he knew so well. Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger and himself, Harry Potter.
There was some major differences between him. While he had grown much in his fifth year, despite the worry of Voldemort's return the previous month, the Dursleys were relatively nice to him. Nice being a rather general term. As Aeons, his father and mother could not officially work or be in Wizarding or Muggle Society. The Dursleys chalked it up to his freakishness that he could call forth the spirits of his father and mother.
Petunia and his mother got along about the same way they did as younger children, and the tension between them had mellowed to the point of being almost friendly. James and Vernon argued about everything as of late, from the latest drill bit of Grunnings to the most recent Blitzball team who had made it into the years final Crystal Cup playoffs.
Dudley was a lost cause though, as the people whom he hung out with were bullies. The fat boy had begun to smoke and drink behind his father and mothers back, while being spoiled and pampered. Lily and James could only give advice, as their Aeon forms were not meant to be indoors. The boy had nearly lost his soul back in Harry's fifth year, and had dropped weight like a stone. All he was in danger of now was premature high cholesterol.
This Harry however looked painfully thin, like the Dursleys had not fed him and locked him in his room or the cupboard under the stairs. Messy black hair topped his head, a similarity to his own wild style and he wore horn rimmed glasses that seemed to be held together through a reparo spell and tape. His robes were new however, but it did not hide the fact that his expression was less than amused at the whole situation.
And Harry could not blame himself for being upset. While he had his family and Cedric to talk to all summer and help ease his guilt, this Harry had no one. And apparently, had no contact with anyone as Dumbledore set up the Order of the Phoenix. Harry was willing to bet as well that the Order was set up in 12 Grimmuald Place, the Black Estate.
As the song died down and the scattered applause could be heard across the room, McGonagall unfurled the parchment and read off the first name. "Ambercrombie, Euan."
The tiny boy walked up, sat down with the hat on his head. After a moment, the hat yelled "Gryffindor!" and he joined his classmates. As the sorting progressed, he noticed many people looking at him curiously. The sea of black robes mixed in with colors of yellow, green, blue and red had onlookers from each table. Clearly, many did not dress in solid red like he did, and was drawing more stares than the professors up at the head table.
After the sorting finished, Albus stood and spoke a few words. Then, with a gesture and the words "Tuck in," food appeared on the table, startling Harry even though he knew it happened every mealtime. Back home, volunteer students of the fourth year and higher and Moogles came out of the kitchens to bring out big steaming pots and pans and other assorted foods before beginning the feast.
Loading his plate with the fragrant and delicious food, Harry ate rapidly, taking a sample of everything near him. The Creevey brothers were amazed at the amount of food he consumed at a time, but continued their own meal.
During the feast, the ghost who hovered near the trio of Hermione, Ron and Harry floated up and settled in between Colin and Dennis. "Honestly," Sir Nicholas huffled. "young Weasley can be so...."
"Blockheaded?" supported Harry as Nick nodded.
"That is the word. My word, I don't think we've been introduced. Sir Nicholas, at your service."
"Ha, er, James Potter, my family to yours," Harry greeted in the customary manners of his class.
"Astonishing, you look exactly like Harry Potter. Are you related? I don't think I've seen you around the castle."
"I'm a distant relative. I don't think he knows I'm here yet. My father was Daniel Potter. He didn't go to Hogwarts either because of the differences he had with our main family." answered Harry. He found it a bit disturbing that the half-truth was rolling off of his tongue so easily.
"Well then, welcome to Hogwarts on behalf of the school ghosts. I'm afraid one of our group is a bit of a handful. But please, come and talk anytime."
"I'll do that," said Harry. "Thank you."
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Trailing behind the group of first years, Harry whistled a small tune that the Songstress Julia had sung the previous month before his decision to end the fight against Voldemort once and for all. At the head of the first years strolled Ron and Hermione. Hermione was shooting glances back at him as he cupped his hands behind his head and strolled nochalantly.
Stopping at the portrait of the Fat Lady, Ron called out, "Mimbulus mimbletonia" for the benefit of the First Years and the Fat Lady swung open on her hinges.
Inside, a fire was crackling and the First Years were looking around the Common Room in awe. "Well then, first year Dormitories," said Hermione importantly and a bit bossy in her tone. "Boys are up there, and girls up these spiral stairs. Curfew is at ten thirty and no one is allowed outside of the room without permission from a professor. You may sleep whenever you like, but there is an all quiet time at eleven due to morning classes." Her gaze fell over the crowd of small children and said, "All right then. Feel free to enjoy your evening."
That said and done, the nervous tension of the first years dissapated a bit slightly as they made their way around the room. Harry strode through the throng, and to his chair whom he found Hermione who had landed in it already. "Hello," he greeted, startling the girl. "I believe I have found the owner of this comfortable chair."
"Oh!" said Hermione, blushing. "I normally sit here in the mornings before classes begin." She looked at Harry with a scrutinizing look and Harry deemed not to fidget. "You look exactly like Harry Potter."
"Blimey, he does doesn't he?" said Ron, walking over. "Who are you? I've never seen you before here."
Though Harry had a good excuse lined up, the thought of lying to his best friends still made him hesitate. "Well, I...."
"His name is James," said Colin from behind the trio. "He's Harry's cousin. From Tokyo, right?"
"Yes, that's it. My family moved there after a dispute with the main Potter house." Harry reminded himself to thank Colin later for the quick save. "I was enrolled in the Magic School there."
"You speak very good english," said Hermione critically. Harry shrugged.
"I've learned a lot," said Harry. In truth, Harry had learned a majority of the Japanese Language, as his sixth year had brought him across the orient, fighting monsters and learning various muggle and magic customs. Though he highly suspected that the students of the sixth and seventh years of this Hogwarts were grounded firmly in the school.
The portrait door opened up at that moment, some people looking over their shoulders at the recent arrival. Harry and Neville had entered the room and were headed straight upstairs. Apparently in no mood to talk such as Harry's thunderous expression was, the dormitory door slammed behind him.
"You think he's all right?" asked Ron. "I mean, he seemed all right during the feast."
"It's been a hard summer for him," said Hermione. She turned to James and said, "Since you're Harry's cousin, I might as well tell you that we couldn't contact Harry, because of important things. He's had a difficult summer since then."
"I can bet," said Harry, folding his arms. His voice dropped to a low pitch. "Order buisness?"
Hermione looked startled while Ron looked amazed. "Bloody hell," said Ron, "You know about the Order?"
"Dumbledore did more than fill me in," Harry replied. "Ron? You might want to go upstairs. I think I hear an argument brewing."
Ron looked at him confused but nodded and headed upstairs into the Fifth Year Dormitories. Hermione remained in her chair as she sighed. "Harry has been in something of a bad mood these past few weeks. He was tried under the full Wizengamot. That's pretty much the Wizarding version of the highest level of judges and council. And earlier before that, there were a couple of Dementors sent to Privet Drive for some reason or another. That lead Harry to cast the Patronus spell..."
"Patronus.... isn't that the spell that drives away Dementors?" asked Harry, trying to confirm it. "Using a happy thought to defeat them?"
"About, more or less," replied Hermione. "You haven't learned the Patronus yet?"
Harry shrugged and muttered, "Wouldn't need it if the Holy spell wasn't crafted..."
Hermione looked puzzled for a moment before standing up and stretching. "Well it is getting late. I'm assuming you have been sorted in Gryffindor. What year?"
"Seventh," said Harry. "But mostly as a guest. I've pretty much graduated."
"Well, I hope you enjoy your stay James. Good night." As Hermione walked off, there was something in her voice that led Harry to believe that she did not accept his story fully. After all, tensions were still running high in the Wizarding World.
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Morning found Harry in the Room of Requirement as it had been transformed into a practice area. He had awoken early that morning, and deeming to get some exersize before breakfast, had slipped off to find a place to train.
After much searching of all floors and several twists and wrong turns and a near slip through a false stair, Harry had found the Room of Requirement as he passed a tapestry on the seventh floor.
Currently, the Boy-Who-Lived had several animated dummies that came at him. His Gunblade was unsheathed and the loud detonation could be heard of his sword slicing through the nearest dummy as he pulled the trigger each time.
A steadily growing pile of straw and wood covered the floor as he spun around, slashing and hacking, occasionally lashing out with a foot or a fist in between slashes of the heavy sword of Gryffindor. As Harry dispatched the last one, a clapping could be heard and Harry whirled. He relaxed and said, "Cedric."
"Harry," Cedric greeted. The Blue Mage stood lazily in his transparent spirit form. "It's getting rather cooped up in your soul so I came for a chat. What, with your parents having a row and Sirius trying to play mediator."
Harry laughed as the Dummies reformed themselves and stepped backwards. "Same old Cedric. So, you noticed too that we're not in the same world?"
"Hard to miss," snorted Cedric. "That X-Zone could be felt even where I was sleeping. You should really stop going into battle at night. It tends to wake us up when we're grumpy."
"I'll keep that in mind," replied Harry wryly.
Cedric looked around the room and said, "Interesting room you have here. Did you find this?"
"Of course," said Harry, running a hand over the walls of the training room. "Just popped out of thin air when I needed it. These Wizards of this world have quite the interesting range of magic."
"But they're lazy, as you point out," said Cedric, sitting down crosslegged on the floor. "As you keep mentioning to the professors." He pitched his tone to Harry's higher volume and mimiced, "It's no wonder that wizards are out of shape; broomstick games, no manual labor, it's like a wizardry paradise for the lazy."
Harry blushed. "You heard that?"
"Kind of hard to miss after Flitwick gave you the evil eye about your complaint of Charms."
Harry laughed as with Cedric. Just then, there was an audible popping sound as a harried Sirius popped into view. "Blast it, I'll let Lily and James handle their little dispute," he snapped. "Oh hello Harry."
"Hello Sirius," said Harry, amused at his godfathers agitated state.
"That arguement die down yet?" asked Cedric as Sirius sat down followed by Harry. Sirius shook his head.
"Nope. It's a wonder that your mum and dad love you so much Harry, but even as kids they couldn't stand each other. A wonder that they got married and had you." Sirius ran a hand though his hair and sighed. "I really, REALLY wonder how James landed Lily. Probably through butterbeer and carnal lust."
"Eew, I didn't need to hear that about my parents, Sirius," said Harry with a grimace. "Maybe I can convince them to materialize in Aeon form for my wedding night. You know, so they can go FAR away on a honeymoon."
"How is the mistress anyways? Turning into a ball and chain?" Cedric quipped. Sirius poked Cedric in the head.
"I doubt Miss Weasley would be anything but a ball and chain," replied Harry in a dry tone. "She's a Songstress. What could she do, sing me to death?"
"Don't underestimate Songstress, Harry," warned Sirius. "Many girls I knew and dated back in Hogwarts were Songstress. Most of them double class as Black Mages and keep it hidden until you REALLY piss them off." Sirius rubbed his shoulder in memory. "Lily was a Songstress as you know. When she got mad, she Firagaed the whole lot of us Marauders."
"I'll keep that in mind," Harry said. "Do you guys want out today?"
"I think it will be for the best," said Cedric, looking warily at Harry's chest. "While your parents argue, we'll stay out and explore the castle. There's got to be something we can do. That Nicholas guy seems like a nice person."
"Careful you don't run into Chang," said Sirius. "You just died in this world too. I doubt Spirit-Cedric would be any helpful for her to encounter."
"If she sees me I'll turn into my Aeon and hide behind the castle," joked Cedric.
"Sure, that's about as smart as letting Anima chew on your head," replied Sirius. "What ever happened to me being the big and impressive Cerebus?"
"You were freed, that's what," said Harry. "Now you're a cute and cuddly plush toy."
"Plush toy this!" With a pop, Sirius turned into Carbunkle and started gnawing on Harry's leg ineffectively. Cedric let out a whoop of laughter while Harry shook his leg to try and dislodge his playful godfather.
Chapter 2 : Once More From The Top
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The week quickly passed by at Hogwarts as Harry spent his time in the library. Being around Hermione Granger, the smartest Red Mage of her generation paid off as his study skills had improved after his OWL Results. Some things he noticed were the same, but the general tone of the world was so different.
Wizards had spells for everything from turning on the cooker to shutting of the Telly, if they even had one. Defensive spells such as Protego which amounted to a weaker version of Shell and the infamous three Unforgivables.
Crucio, Harry found seemed to be a more focused version of the Demi spell. As Demi literally sucked the life out of someone, Crucio inflicted pain through igniting the nerve endings of the body. Demi was also counterable with a Reflect Spell and Harry wondered to himself if the magic spell Crucio could be also Reflected.
The second one, Imperio had no real counterpart to it in his own world. But his world had a history of Slave Crowns being used on monsters and even people. A spell that could control someone to do anything. The thought of the spell made Harry's spine tingle with anticipation of finding a counter from his world for it.
The third, the Avada Kedavra brought him most of his attention. An unblockable Killing Curse, and highly lethal. Voldemort favored it and it seemed to be the fear of every wizard that they would find someone they know struck down by the Curse. Only one survivor of it was found, and it was to no big surprise, himself. Or at least the one of his world.
During his time in the school, he had met up with various Professors and learned some simple and basic things about the wizarding world. Transfiguration was a lesser used section of his own magical theory, as Hermione was the big expert in the Transmogrifiable spells. Professor McGonagall demonstrated several spells, which were more advanced than his worlds. But his worlds spells had the added advantage against an opponent as turning them into a helpless Frog or shrinking them with Mini would turn the tables of their fighting. After some experimentation, Harry found that a single Maiden's Kiss item would cure a transfiguration.
Professor Flitwick had eagerly shown him the Charms of day to day life, demonstrating simple hover charms and such. The amount of charms that a wizard could learn in seven years was quite an astounding amount. When Harry had asked the tiny wizard how wizards stayed fit, he was given a lesson in Quidditch.
Quidditch was a disaster, one disaster that Harry would have loved to avoid. Madam Hooch, the flying instructor showed him how to call and mount a broom. It was there when Harry's fear of flying kicked in.
Even back home, he hated going onto the Airship that would bring students back and forth from Hogwarts to London. He hated the sensation of wind whipping around it, and he clung to the nearest chair, not moving for the whole trip. Luckily he did not get sick going on the train, but the feeling of "Going to be sucked out" was predominant in his life. Sirius before he had died and become his Aeon, admitted that even as a baby, Harry disliked flying. Needless to say, Harry would not be playing Quidditch for the remainder of his stay.
That evening, the castle was lit up brightly as Harry stepped out of the Library. Even in two worlds, Madam Pince could be really vicious around her books. Straightening his Red Mage cloak, Harry made sure to hide his small horn with his feathered hat. Most of his childhood he spent wearing oversized hats to keep people from staring at his horn. It was a small thing, only three inches in length but it served the purpose of connecting him to the Aeons whom he called family.
Picking up his sword and buckling it to his belt, Harry straightened his cloak and marched down to the Great Hall. Students of the second to the seventh years were already in the room, many of them complaining of the long train ride to the school. The first years were awaiting sorting as Professor McGonagall was conspicuously absent. In Hagrid's place was Professor Grubby-Plank, a woman he had once met in passing when Harry was introduced to the staff. Hagrid was off in the mountians somewhere on the mainland with Madam Maxine.
In the seat of the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor was the Ministry flunky, Professor Umbridge. Harry did not draw attention to himself around her. He knew how the cruel witch worked and thought. How he would have loved to make her fall down the stairs onto a Frog Spell, but he had more creative things in store for the woman.
As he swept into the room, several people noticed his arrival and denoted his red robes as monochrome Gryffindor robes or a visitor. Sitting down in the Gryffindor Table amidst a couple of other students, Harry adjusted his thin lensed glasses and waited.
"Excuse me," said a voice from Harry's left. Harry turned to look at a young boy whom he recognised as Colin Creevey and his brother Dennis. Both were dressed in the same black robes of the students with Gryffindor Badges on the front of their robes. In his world however, Colin had taken on the role of the White Mage and his brother, a bit more mischevious of the two, became a Thief. "Are you related to Harry Potter?"
Harry blinked at the question as he considered his options. Dumbledore may announce his arrival as a special guest. The "Cousin" of Harry Potter, James. A slightly unoriginal name to be sure of, considering it was his middle name, but Harry had to agree. No sense letting Death Eater children discover his power and write to their mums and dads. On the other hand, he may just let Harry integrate with the students more naturally, rather than calling a celebrity status. "I'm James Potter, Harry Potter's cousin. Pleasure to meet you," said Harry as he shook hands with Colin and Dennis.
Dennis and Colin had that same worshipful expression on their faces as his own Creavey twins had when he was still in school. 'Still am,' Harry reminded himself. "Wow," said Dennis. "I didn't know Harry Potter had a cousin."
"Our families are main and branch. Our fathers didn't get along very well." said the newly dubbed James. A half truth as well. James Potter, Harry's father had a elder brother who had gone to Hogwarts before him. But he and his family had been killed by Dark Knights two years after Daniel Potter had become infamous in the Paladin Circles. It was one of the reasons why he had gone to the Dursleys. Harry had suggested the idea for his cover, and the Professors agreed to it.
"Who was your father?" asked Colin in his excited and breathless manner.
"Daniel Potter, five years James Potters elder." Harry turned to the front of the hall where the First Years had lined up. Many of the children were whispering nervously. Euan Ambercrombie, a boy he remembered staring at him and looking away terrified at meeting the 'insane Harry Potter' stood in the middle of the group.
At the front, Professor McGonagall set down the stool and the ratty old Sorting Hat. After a moment, the rip at the front opened up and began to sing. Harry immediately recognised the song as the one sung during his fifth year, with some slight deverations. Looking down the table, he saw a ghost who looked fairly like Headless Nicholas, a Blue Mage who was beheaded by a monster back in the sixteenth century by a group of Trolls. But this one was not dressed in the same armor and robe combonation as most Blue Mages wore, and his head seemed to wobble slightly as if it had not yet parted from his shoulders. Sitting near him were three people he knew so well. Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger and himself, Harry Potter.
There was some major differences between him. While he had grown much in his fifth year, despite the worry of Voldemort's return the previous month, the Dursleys were relatively nice to him. Nice being a rather general term. As Aeons, his father and mother could not officially work or be in Wizarding or Muggle Society. The Dursleys chalked it up to his freakishness that he could call forth the spirits of his father and mother.
Petunia and his mother got along about the same way they did as younger children, and the tension between them had mellowed to the point of being almost friendly. James and Vernon argued about everything as of late, from the latest drill bit of Grunnings to the most recent Blitzball team who had made it into the years final Crystal Cup playoffs.
Dudley was a lost cause though, as the people whom he hung out with were bullies. The fat boy had begun to smoke and drink behind his father and mothers back, while being spoiled and pampered. Lily and James could only give advice, as their Aeon forms were not meant to be indoors. The boy had nearly lost his soul back in Harry's fifth year, and had dropped weight like a stone. All he was in danger of now was premature high cholesterol.
This Harry however looked painfully thin, like the Dursleys had not fed him and locked him in his room or the cupboard under the stairs. Messy black hair topped his head, a similarity to his own wild style and he wore horn rimmed glasses that seemed to be held together through a reparo spell and tape. His robes were new however, but it did not hide the fact that his expression was less than amused at the whole situation.
And Harry could not blame himself for being upset. While he had his family and Cedric to talk to all summer and help ease his guilt, this Harry had no one. And apparently, had no contact with anyone as Dumbledore set up the Order of the Phoenix. Harry was willing to bet as well that the Order was set up in 12 Grimmuald Place, the Black Estate.
As the song died down and the scattered applause could be heard across the room, McGonagall unfurled the parchment and read off the first name. "Ambercrombie, Euan."
The tiny boy walked up, sat down with the hat on his head. After a moment, the hat yelled "Gryffindor!" and he joined his classmates. As the sorting progressed, he noticed many people looking at him curiously. The sea of black robes mixed in with colors of yellow, green, blue and red had onlookers from each table. Clearly, many did not dress in solid red like he did, and was drawing more stares than the professors up at the head table.
After the sorting finished, Albus stood and spoke a few words. Then, with a gesture and the words "Tuck in," food appeared on the table, startling Harry even though he knew it happened every mealtime. Back home, volunteer students of the fourth year and higher and Moogles came out of the kitchens to bring out big steaming pots and pans and other assorted foods before beginning the feast.
Loading his plate with the fragrant and delicious food, Harry ate rapidly, taking a sample of everything near him. The Creevey brothers were amazed at the amount of food he consumed at a time, but continued their own meal.
During the feast, the ghost who hovered near the trio of Hermione, Ron and Harry floated up and settled in between Colin and Dennis. "Honestly," Sir Nicholas huffled. "young Weasley can be so...."
"Blockheaded?" supported Harry as Nick nodded.
"That is the word. My word, I don't think we've been introduced. Sir Nicholas, at your service."
"Ha, er, James Potter, my family to yours," Harry greeted in the customary manners of his class.
"Astonishing, you look exactly like Harry Potter. Are you related? I don't think I've seen you around the castle."
"I'm a distant relative. I don't think he knows I'm here yet. My father was Daniel Potter. He didn't go to Hogwarts either because of the differences he had with our main family." answered Harry. He found it a bit disturbing that the half-truth was rolling off of his tongue so easily.
"Well then, welcome to Hogwarts on behalf of the school ghosts. I'm afraid one of our group is a bit of a handful. But please, come and talk anytime."
"I'll do that," said Harry. "Thank you."
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Trailing behind the group of first years, Harry whistled a small tune that the Songstress Julia had sung the previous month before his decision to end the fight against Voldemort once and for all. At the head of the first years strolled Ron and Hermione. Hermione was shooting glances back at him as he cupped his hands behind his head and strolled nochalantly.
Stopping at the portrait of the Fat Lady, Ron called out, "Mimbulus mimbletonia" for the benefit of the First Years and the Fat Lady swung open on her hinges.
Inside, a fire was crackling and the First Years were looking around the Common Room in awe. "Well then, first year Dormitories," said Hermione importantly and a bit bossy in her tone. "Boys are up there, and girls up these spiral stairs. Curfew is at ten thirty and no one is allowed outside of the room without permission from a professor. You may sleep whenever you like, but there is an all quiet time at eleven due to morning classes." Her gaze fell over the crowd of small children and said, "All right then. Feel free to enjoy your evening."
That said and done, the nervous tension of the first years dissapated a bit slightly as they made their way around the room. Harry strode through the throng, and to his chair whom he found Hermione who had landed in it already. "Hello," he greeted, startling the girl. "I believe I have found the owner of this comfortable chair."
"Oh!" said Hermione, blushing. "I normally sit here in the mornings before classes begin." She looked at Harry with a scrutinizing look and Harry deemed not to fidget. "You look exactly like Harry Potter."
"Blimey, he does doesn't he?" said Ron, walking over. "Who are you? I've never seen you before here."
Though Harry had a good excuse lined up, the thought of lying to his best friends still made him hesitate. "Well, I...."
"His name is James," said Colin from behind the trio. "He's Harry's cousin. From Tokyo, right?"
"Yes, that's it. My family moved there after a dispute with the main Potter house." Harry reminded himself to thank Colin later for the quick save. "I was enrolled in the Magic School there."
"You speak very good english," said Hermione critically. Harry shrugged.
"I've learned a lot," said Harry. In truth, Harry had learned a majority of the Japanese Language, as his sixth year had brought him across the orient, fighting monsters and learning various muggle and magic customs. Though he highly suspected that the students of the sixth and seventh years of this Hogwarts were grounded firmly in the school.
The portrait door opened up at that moment, some people looking over their shoulders at the recent arrival. Harry and Neville had entered the room and were headed straight upstairs. Apparently in no mood to talk such as Harry's thunderous expression was, the dormitory door slammed behind him.
"You think he's all right?" asked Ron. "I mean, he seemed all right during the feast."
"It's been a hard summer for him," said Hermione. She turned to James and said, "Since you're Harry's cousin, I might as well tell you that we couldn't contact Harry, because of important things. He's had a difficult summer since then."
"I can bet," said Harry, folding his arms. His voice dropped to a low pitch. "Order buisness?"
Hermione looked startled while Ron looked amazed. "Bloody hell," said Ron, "You know about the Order?"
"Dumbledore did more than fill me in," Harry replied. "Ron? You might want to go upstairs. I think I hear an argument brewing."
Ron looked at him confused but nodded and headed upstairs into the Fifth Year Dormitories. Hermione remained in her chair as she sighed. "Harry has been in something of a bad mood these past few weeks. He was tried under the full Wizengamot. That's pretty much the Wizarding version of the highest level of judges and council. And earlier before that, there were a couple of Dementors sent to Privet Drive for some reason or another. That lead Harry to cast the Patronus spell..."
"Patronus.... isn't that the spell that drives away Dementors?" asked Harry, trying to confirm it. "Using a happy thought to defeat them?"
"About, more or less," replied Hermione. "You haven't learned the Patronus yet?"
Harry shrugged and muttered, "Wouldn't need it if the Holy spell wasn't crafted..."
Hermione looked puzzled for a moment before standing up and stretching. "Well it is getting late. I'm assuming you have been sorted in Gryffindor. What year?"
"Seventh," said Harry. "But mostly as a guest. I've pretty much graduated."
"Well, I hope you enjoy your stay James. Good night." As Hermione walked off, there was something in her voice that led Harry to believe that she did not accept his story fully. After all, tensions were still running high in the Wizarding World.
===============
Morning found Harry in the Room of Requirement as it had been transformed into a practice area. He had awoken early that morning, and deeming to get some exersize before breakfast, had slipped off to find a place to train.
After much searching of all floors and several twists and wrong turns and a near slip through a false stair, Harry had found the Room of Requirement as he passed a tapestry on the seventh floor.
Currently, the Boy-Who-Lived had several animated dummies that came at him. His Gunblade was unsheathed and the loud detonation could be heard of his sword slicing through the nearest dummy as he pulled the trigger each time.
A steadily growing pile of straw and wood covered the floor as he spun around, slashing and hacking, occasionally lashing out with a foot or a fist in between slashes of the heavy sword of Gryffindor. As Harry dispatched the last one, a clapping could be heard and Harry whirled. He relaxed and said, "Cedric."
"Harry," Cedric greeted. The Blue Mage stood lazily in his transparent spirit form. "It's getting rather cooped up in your soul so I came for a chat. What, with your parents having a row and Sirius trying to play mediator."
Harry laughed as the Dummies reformed themselves and stepped backwards. "Same old Cedric. So, you noticed too that we're not in the same world?"
"Hard to miss," snorted Cedric. "That X-Zone could be felt even where I was sleeping. You should really stop going into battle at night. It tends to wake us up when we're grumpy."
"I'll keep that in mind," replied Harry wryly.
Cedric looked around the room and said, "Interesting room you have here. Did you find this?"
"Of course," said Harry, running a hand over the walls of the training room. "Just popped out of thin air when I needed it. These Wizards of this world have quite the interesting range of magic."
"But they're lazy, as you point out," said Cedric, sitting down crosslegged on the floor. "As you keep mentioning to the professors." He pitched his tone to Harry's higher volume and mimiced, "It's no wonder that wizards are out of shape; broomstick games, no manual labor, it's like a wizardry paradise for the lazy."
Harry blushed. "You heard that?"
"Kind of hard to miss after Flitwick gave you the evil eye about your complaint of Charms."
Harry laughed as with Cedric. Just then, there was an audible popping sound as a harried Sirius popped into view. "Blast it, I'll let Lily and James handle their little dispute," he snapped. "Oh hello Harry."
"Hello Sirius," said Harry, amused at his godfathers agitated state.
"That arguement die down yet?" asked Cedric as Sirius sat down followed by Harry. Sirius shook his head.
"Nope. It's a wonder that your mum and dad love you so much Harry, but even as kids they couldn't stand each other. A wonder that they got married and had you." Sirius ran a hand though his hair and sighed. "I really, REALLY wonder how James landed Lily. Probably through butterbeer and carnal lust."
"Eew, I didn't need to hear that about my parents, Sirius," said Harry with a grimace. "Maybe I can convince them to materialize in Aeon form for my wedding night. You know, so they can go FAR away on a honeymoon."
"How is the mistress anyways? Turning into a ball and chain?" Cedric quipped. Sirius poked Cedric in the head.
"I doubt Miss Weasley would be anything but a ball and chain," replied Harry in a dry tone. "She's a Songstress. What could she do, sing me to death?"
"Don't underestimate Songstress, Harry," warned Sirius. "Many girls I knew and dated back in Hogwarts were Songstress. Most of them double class as Black Mages and keep it hidden until you REALLY piss them off." Sirius rubbed his shoulder in memory. "Lily was a Songstress as you know. When she got mad, she Firagaed the whole lot of us Marauders."
"I'll keep that in mind," Harry said. "Do you guys want out today?"
"I think it will be for the best," said Cedric, looking warily at Harry's chest. "While your parents argue, we'll stay out and explore the castle. There's got to be something we can do. That Nicholas guy seems like a nice person."
"Careful you don't run into Chang," said Sirius. "You just died in this world too. I doubt Spirit-Cedric would be any helpful for her to encounter."
"If she sees me I'll turn into my Aeon and hide behind the castle," joked Cedric.
"Sure, that's about as smart as letting Anima chew on your head," replied Sirius. "What ever happened to me being the big and impressive Cerebus?"
"You were freed, that's what," said Harry. "Now you're a cute and cuddly plush toy."
"Plush toy this!" With a pop, Sirius turned into Carbunkle and started gnawing on Harry's leg ineffectively. Cedric let out a whoop of laughter while Harry shook his leg to try and dislodge his playful godfather.