Disclaimer: Harry Potter and related characters are the sole property of J. K.

Rowling.

I have posted a sketch of what I think Harry/Damon will look like when he starts Hogwarts his first year... it is on my fanfiction profile page.

The Druids Apprentice

Ch. 6

The weeks following their trip to Diagon alley passed in a blur. Renovations to forester manor had been completed and Harry was splitting his free time between Draco, the Weasleys and some children he'd befriended in the nearby village of Ottery St. Catchpole. He had become quite good playing football with them and had mentioned it to both Ron and Draco with hopes of bringing them together through a curiosity about the game.

Merrill had explained the running feud between the Malfoys and Weasleys when the boy had initially suggested the idea of having them both stay over at the manor. Harry was looking for some means of bringing doubt into the blond boys mind about his fathers preconceptions and , possibly, this could be it. The Weasleys were good people and he was sure Draco would benefit from their simplicity and open-mindedness. The thought of using football and the muggle children as a tool for this felt like a stroke of genius to him. Not only would he bring them both together, but if everything worked as he planned they would also be playing with muggles and using no magic of their own.

Harry was on the field one day with several of his muggle friends. There was no real game, just them kicking the ball around and talking when he heard a familiar though suprising voice, "I want food! Mum... I'm Starving!" Wincing, the brown haired boy turned towards the yelling to see the people that should have been his family. Vernon was hunkered over the hood of their car, his face a characteristic red and map spread out in front of him. Petunia, Gaunt and uptight as ever, was fussing over her little 'Diddykins,' who was hollering from inside the air-conditioned car, as if he hadn't eaten in weeks.

The brown haired boy scanned the car and the area around for its fourth occupant and James was nowhere in sight. He was beginning to truly worry until he heard Petunia say, "Where is that blasted boy? We sent him almost an hour ago to get food for my poor baby... Likely he's off spending our hard earned money on himself." Harry collected his jacket and cane from where he'd left them and with a quick goodbye to his mates he was off to find his brother.

The search, he knew, wouldn't be a hard one. There was only one place in the small village that anyone could get prepared food and that was at the Skewered Bore. Both Harry and Merrill had fallen in love with the inn the first time they had entered. The main room, save for the television in one corner, looked to be from a century or more earlier. All the tables and chairs were hand made and the walls covered in wood paneling, the place felt warm and cozy. Harry had made it his business to know an be known by the locals and he had struck up a wonderful friendship with the owner, Ernie MacFinn.

The boy ambled into the establishment and waved to the ruddy faced man behind the bar. "Hey Ern." Leaning forward on his elbows the old man returned, "Top o' the Morning young Mr. Forester... What brings you by this early?" Harry just smiled to the man and waved as he scanned the room with his eyes. Sitting at one end of the bar was a painfully skinny, green eyed boy with broken glasses, doing his best to remain unnoticed. "Oi, mate," Harry said, sitting down by the boy. "Haven't seen you around here before... visiting?"

James blinked and stared at the other boy for a moment, "No." he replied. "My aunt and uncle are taking my cousin Dudley on a trip to the ocean before the end of the holidays... but I think we're lost." Wiping his hand on his shirt, the boy held his hand out to Harry. "I'm Harry, Harry Potter." Letting his eyes go wide in surprise the boy responded, "I know you..." The dumbstruck look on James face was priceless as Harry continued, "My grandfather moved in just beside you, Merrill Forester.. I'm Damon."

The boys conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Ernie with two large bags full of food. "Here we are, Two extra-large fish and chips, one small. That'll be three pounds." James fished out the money that his uncle had given him and with a stricken look said, "I only have two." The old man shook his head and made as if to take away the bags but Harry held up his hand. "Wait Ern, his family is friends with my grandfather, if it's alright, he'll cover it when he comes into town next." Sitting the food back down the old man replied, "Alright then Damon, tell him for me that the football finals are on the tele Friday and I'll be saving him a table." The boy smiled back at the man, "We'll be here."

The two walked silently back towards where the car was parked until James asked, "Have you seen your grandfather lately? He's had me taking care of his garden for a few years and just last month he was just gone." Harry silently cursed himself and Merrill for not anticipating how their sudden move would affect James; Spying a bird perched on a nearby fence post, he whistled at it for several moments. "What are you doing?" asked James, the boy shrugged and answered as the bird flew off in the direction of the manor, "Nothing really, sometimes the birds sing back at you if its done just right."

After a few minutes walk with Harry dragging his feet and distracting James with all kinds of questions about himself, they arrived back at the park where the car had been parked and Vernon was in fine form. His face purple and puffed up as if he'd been bitten by something poisonous. Ignoring Harry, he grabbed James firmly by the shoulder and hissed, "Where have you been boy?" Punctuating each word with a sound shake, a stunned Harry watched as his brother looked ready to come apart from the abuse. "Where have you been you worthless, lazy..."

Seeing red, Harry brought his cane up for a violent swing that would have cracked Mr. Dursleys skull if not for the calming hand that suddenly landed on his shoulder. "My, My Vernon, what brings you here?" Caught unawares by the new voice, Harry's uncle turned rapidly, pulling Harry behind his great bulk. "M...Merrill... How are you..." an oily smile appeared on his puffy face, "we're on holiday before school starts back... Dudley works so hard, we thought it a good way to get his spirits up before going back, And you?"

Merrill clapped a now composed Harry on the shoulder twice. "Here to visit my grandson, Damon. He's been in boarding school since his parents passed. Actually he'll be living with me until he starts at St. Hargow next fall." "Hmmm," Mr. Dursleys stroked his chin, "I haven't heard of it. Dudley will be attending Smeltings, very prestigious you know." The old druid nodded, "Of course, a fine institution. St Hargow is in northern Scotland, so I doubt you'd have heard of it, But like you, our family has attended for generations."

The old mans eyes suddenly lit up with an idea, "I have a thought. Why not leave Harry with us? We'll be going back in a few days and someone needs to prune my garden, I'm sure... it would give you three time to enjoy your holiday properly." Harry watched along with James as a war played itself out on Vernons face. His desire to be rid of the boy battled with a need to know the boy wasn't enjoying himself in any way. Finally he relented with a solemn promise from Merrill to work the boy mercilessly, "If you don't he'll just lay about all day." With a final wave and directions from the old man that would get them anywhere but the ocean, the Dursleys drove off leaving James with the two druids.

The three stood watching as the tail lights of the Dursley's car vanished in the distance. Merrill took James by the shoulder and turned him down the path. "Come my boy, the summer house is a bit of a walk and we'd best get started before night falls." They walked for several minutes and Harry took the time to point out to James the different birds and plants that could be seen along the way.

In the distance they could see a red-headed figure walking towards them. As it drew closer Harry yelled out, "Oi, Ron!" The approaching boy waved back and broke into a swift trot, bringing him to them in just a few moments. As the boy joined the group Harry introduced him to James. "Ron, this is Harry, he lives by my grandfathers city home, he'll be staying the week until we go back." They shook hands and Ron began telling a baffled James all about the Chudley Cannons and going on about quiddich. They walked on until they reached the lip of the valley.

As they stepped in full view of the manor and its estates James let out a startled gasp, not at the beauty that surrounded him, but at the rush of memories that overcame him. Harry, who had been waiting expectantly by his side, whispered, "Welcome back little brother." Until that moment he had truly believed himself to be Harry Potter, son of James and Lilly, and in a sense he was. When he stepped into the Valley he had crossed over into the realm of Avalon, where Camelot resided untouched by the muggle realm and his true identity as James, Harry's magical twin had been restored. Making their way towards the castle, Harry took the time to bring his brother up to date on everything that had happened since they'd left.

Halfway into the telling of the harrowing broomstick chase through Diagon Alley, he was intrupted by Ron. "Cor Damon, I wish I'd been there, who was it with you?" Dreading how the conversation was about to turn, but not letting on, Harry answered. "A boy I met when we were in London a couple months ago. He was the first wizard other than my family I've met. He's the same age as us and his names Draco."

Ron, flabbergasted into silence as they entered the castle finally blurted out, "Malfoy?!" his voice was strained as if even the name was repugnant. "Draco Malfoy? Damon, you can't. His whole family are dark wizards, death eaters!" Harry wheeled on the red-head, his tone icy and his eyes ablaze with anger. "Have you ever met him? What has he done to you that is so horrible that I can't befriend him?" with each quiet word, Harry advanced on his friend. Ron shrank back, frightened by the intensity of the boy. "N... no..., but..." the young druid stopped him and still in the tightly controlled, though angry voice he said, "Then what gives you the right to judge him? I've known him for two months, he's proud, arrogant, and believes a bit too much of the drivel his father spouts, but he's smart, funny and when I've given him the chance he's always done the right thing. You can either accept that he's my friend as well or you can find the door!" Ron, his face nearly red as his hair at that point, roared out, "Fine!" and stormed from the room.

Merrill cleared his throat as the door slammed, "Feeling a bit melodramatic today?" The boy shook his head, "Ron is emotional, he was going to get mad, no matter what I said so perhaps if he vents it all now, when I try again in a couple days he'll be a little better with it."

They entered the great hall, the one-time throne room of the castle. It was lined with benches and statuary and the ceiling was a glass dome, letting in the last of the suns rays. At the far end was a raise dais where the throne had once stood and in the center of the room was a fountain, at its center a beautiful lady stood with her eyes cast down as if in prayer, her hands folded over the hilt of a sword. Harry looked to his grandfather, a look of pleading on his face. Shaking his head the old man relented, "You never tire of his do you?" Smiling the boy walked to the edge of a dark band of stone in the floor that completely surrounded the fountain. Raising his arms and facing the dais, he said in a bold, clear voice, "We, in service to the Pendragon and the code!"

For a moment it seemed nothing had happened, then a low grating could be heard and the band of stone the boy stood before began to rise up out of the floor, until it was waste level to a grown man. All the way around the newly risen table was three feet deep, four inches thick and was supported only by the magic that had raised it. House elves appeared with a chair for each of them and as they sat their dinner appeared before them. James sat, rubbing the dark gray stone before him and looked up at Harry, "This isn't..." The young druid nodded with a grin, "Welcome to Camelot." The two boys were interrupted by a nearby snort. "Like I said, you're awfully melodramatic today. I mean really, you've been half-raised by me for the last five years, is it such a shock when I helped build the damned place?" The boys giggled and tore into their food.

When the plates were empty and taken away by the house elves, James turned back to Harry and asked, "What's so important about getting Malfoy and Weasley together?" The brown haired boy leaned forward and perched his chin on his fists. "You know, that's just it, I'm not sure... In the beginning I simply wanted to expose Draco to a different kind of family that what he's known, but later... I can't explain it but I feel like it's important, like they'll all be sitting at this table someday.

The next morning Harry and James were sparring in the garden with practice swords when Merrill stepped from the house with Draco in tow. "Boys, finish up now, Young Malfoy has arrived." Getting little more than grunts from the wary youths as they stalked each other, the old man gently pushed the blond boy in the direction of the action and warned him not to get too close until the two were done.

Draco studied the two boys as they trained, both wore sweats and muscle shirts, though their feet were bare. Damon, he noticed, was muscular and wiry more so than he would expect for someone who'd just turned ten, he also noticed that his arms had several old and well-healed scars. The other boy was new to him. Black messy hair, green eyes and short, perhaps eight years old. The boy was scrawny and much weaker than Damon but held with a confidence that said he'd done this before. Still though, as they went through their routines, the larger boy was coaching the smaller. "Come on Harry, keep your sword up... that's it, now block down and to the left, hard and slash back right... Good!" After several more minutes, the boy finally dropped the stick, "Enough! H.. Damon... I can't keep up!" Putting his sword down, Damon walked over and patted him on the shoulder, "You did a lot better this time, you'll catch up to me sooner or later."

The two turned towards Draco, who'd been watching them silently. Harry came over and greeted his friend, "Draco... I'm glad your father finally let you come to the manor, will you be staying?" Smirking the blond replied, "You know if your grandfather would just tell my father where the manor is I'd have been able to come sooner, as it is I can only stay the night." Draco turned to James, who had stood silently while the boys talked. "Who's this then?" "A friend," Harry replied, "He lives near my uncles house in the city... Draco, meet Harry." The two boys shook hands and the blond narrowed his eyes. "In the city you say... a muggle then?" "What's a muggle?" James said, playing as if he knew nothing of the wizarding world. "No he isn't," said Harry, though his relatives have raised him like one... I really haven't even told him everything yet."

Both Draco and James both looked at Harry oddly, "Everything about what?" they said in unison. Draco glanced back at James and froze. The blond boy reached out a tentative hand towards the boys head and James made as if to stop him until Harry stopped him with a nearly imperceptible shake of his head. Parting the boys bangs he spied a lightning-bolt shaped scar on James forehead. "My god," Draco said, his face even paler than usual, "You're Harry Potter!"