A/N: This chapter is dedicated to all you reviewers! Your response has simply blown me away. If you have any questions, address them to me in my yahoo group (the link is in my profile under 'homepage'. If you prefer not to join, then simply add 'nimbirosa' to your msn (at hotmail), yahoo or AOL messenger.
Dedicated to the G-E-T team.
Iterum atque Iterum: Again and Again
Book One: In the Eye of the Beholder
Chapter One – Reimmersion
Harry grinned up at Sirius, emerald eyes dancing in his thin face. He was a child now – physically, at least. Mentally, he was at least twenty-five…not that he minded having a second childhood to live through. He'd missed his first, after all.
He and Sirius were living in a run-down apartment in Italy now, having recently come from Bath. And they were currently celebrating Harry's eighth birthday.
"Defensive Spells and Curses for those Obsessed with Remaining Alive," Harry read the title of the beat-up book Sirius had gotten him. His godfather knew well Harry's near fanatical interest with learning Defence Against the Dark Arts.
Sirius also knew just how powerful Harry really was. The boy could perform wandless magic almost with ease, needing Sirius' wand for his spells only when a more subtle touch was needed. Really, it was ironic – the only spells Harry couldn't do wandlessly were those that were inherently less powerful than most. For those, he needed a wand or else the spell would go entirely overboard – instead of unlocking a door, for instance, he would blow an entire wall out.
"One more present," Sirius said with a mischievous spark in his eyes. Harry immediately frowned.
"You've gotten me seven books, and I know we can barely afford that. Are you sure we –"
"Stop worrying," Sirius cut Harry off with a smirk. "I swear, sometimes I think you're the adult of us."
Harry grinned back, an odd gleam in his eyes – as if he knew something Sirius didn't. It was a look Sirius had often seen sported by Dumbledore. Seeing that same twinkle in his godson's gaze was downright unnerving.
Shaking off all such thoughts, Sirius handed a rather large, unwrapped cardboard box to Harry, hoping the boy wouldn't see the many air holes decorating the gift. Of course, his hopes were in vain – Harry was perhaps the most observant child Sirius had ever come in contact with. The boy missed nothing.
Blinking and eying Sirius with suspicion, Harry shook the box lightly.
: SSSTOP: came a hissing sound from inside. Harry's eyes widened.
"You got me a snake!" he exclaimed, an incredulous grin splitting his face. "Thank you, thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!"
Sirius had to chuckle at the boy's fervent thanks. He knew Harry was a parselmouth, and he'd been aware for years how the boy yearned for a pet snake. But Harry had never asked for one – really, Harry never asked for anything.
Quite frankly, Sirius was mystified by the boy. No one – powerful or not – had ever performed intentional wandless magic younger than fifteen…at least not in living memory. And Harry himself was a riddle. Sometimes he seemed his age, and other times he seemed much, much older. Occasionally he would slip into depression, which he would eventually shake off. Right after those depressions he would always study with a fanatical fervour.
He kept journals full of information that Sirius had only ever gotten a quick glance at before Harry realized his godfather was reading over his shoulder. He'd been speaking in full sentences since he was a tiny toddler, and had learned to walk rather early as well. By all accounts, Harry was far too advanced for an eight-year-old.
And the boy never acted with that thoughtless selfishness most children possess. He never begged for a new toy or complained about their lack of funds. He didn't contest the rules Sirius set, nor did he break them without good reason. He was never cruel, and seemed to cherish his life and Sirius himself.
Quite frankly, it had Sirius worried. Harry was simply too mature. James, at his age, had been a little hellion, a tad of cruelty mixed in with endless charm. James had never – at least as a child – shown the thoughtfulness that Harry always exhibited.
Sirius had nothing against his godson's personality, of course. But he was worried that he'd somehow taken too much of Harry's innocence away, due to their poverty and their constant moving.
"She says her name is Neasa," Harry said, abruptly jerking Sirius out of his dour contemplations. "She's also extremely poisonous."
Sirius gaped. "Poisonous? The manager didn't say a thing about poison!"
Harry grinned, apparently pleased that his new pet could kill them both with ease. "Really, Sirius, don't you know a viper when you see one? And don't worry – she won't attack anyone unless they attack her first – or if they attack me," he said as an afterthought.
"Great," Sirius groaned. "We got us a guard-snake. Lovely."
"Five, four, three, two, one…" Harry counted under his breath.
"DID YOU SAY VIPER?"
"Stationary-majiggies?"
"Check."
"Poisonous snake with a grudge against me?"
"Check."
"Unbelievably boring school books that you've long surpassed the level of?"
"Check."
"Trillions of unnecessary advanced books on magic?"
"Check."
"God-awful, hole-ridden, second-hand robes?"
"Check."
"Apothecary supplies for potions, Merlin help us all?"
"Check."
"Wand that happens to be the brother of Voldemort's?"
"Check."
"Well…looks like we're set," Sirius said with a grin. "Oh, I forgot! One more thing: animagus godfather accused of being a traitor who will also be your familiar, in the form of a rather handsome grim?"
"Hmmm…handsome, you say? I think we're missing one of those –"
"Ahem."
"I mean…check."
Harry grinned to himself as he collapsed onto a compartment seat on the Hogwarts Express, Snuffles at his side and Neasa wrapped loosely around his shoulders. He had no ticket, no letter of invitation, and the wizarding world thought he was dead.
He was going to Hogwarts.
Sirius leapt onto the seat next to Harry, his large canine eyes shining with glee. Harry knew the man couldn't wait to see McGonagall's face when Harry announced who he was.
A Marauder forever. Circe help the world.
: Tell the mutt to leave me alone: Neasa hissed in Harry's ear, glaring at Sirius, who had playfully batted with one paw at the viper's tail. Neasa really did not like Snuffles.
Their feud provided Harry with an endless source of humour.
"Snuffles, leave the angry, venomous snake alone."
Sirius whined ingratiatingly, but complied. 'Damn, I'm good,' Harry thought with a smug smile.
This was going to be a blast.
They all started slightly as the compartment door slid open. Neasa slithered out of sight, Snuffles stood up, ears pricked, and Harry's hand was clenched unobtrusively around his wand.
"I say," a familiar voice cried exclaimed jovially.
"This one's practically empty!" Another laughed.
"Hope you don't mind, young sir –"
"But the other 'partments are full."
"Mind if we join you?"
"We can leave, if you like."
Harry blinked at the irrepressible twins. He had long since learned to differentiate between the two, and recognised them easily. He came back to himself with a start and gave them a smile, albeit somewhat shakily.
"Be my guest," Harry waved a hand casually at the empty seats. "Out of the way, Snuffles." The animagus gave him a reproachful stare but obeyed, leaping up onto the seat next to him. Fred and George stared.
"Merlin's balls –" Fred choked out.
"That there dog's huge!" George agreed.
"Sinister appearance, doncha think?" They looked carefully at the large animal.
"Positively Grim." George deadpanned.
Harry half-laughed, half-groaned at the terrible pun. "That was just bad."
"Predictable really, coming from George." Fred grinned, and was promptly hit upside the head by his offended twin.
"Personally, I found it rather punny," George said haughtily. Harry and Fred giggled and threw robes at him. Harry composed himself and pasted a curious expression on his face.
"So he's George, and you are –?"
"Alfred Georginton Weasley, at y'service, but everyone calls me 'Fred'."
"Georginton Alfred Weasley, at y'service, known to the world as 'George'."
Harry tried, rather unsuccessfully, to cover up his laugh. Fred and George had never told him their true names before, and to be frank, he couldn't blame them. "Your names are very…unusual," he chuckled.
"I think the word you're looking for is 'disgusting' –"
"Wretched –"
"Detestable –"
"Sickening –"
"Loathsome –"
"Icky!"
The others stared at George in astonishment.
"'Icky'?" Fred echoed disbelievingly.
Harry noted with interest the rather unattractive shade of burgundy George's ears had turned. He suppressed a frown. He couldn't remember the twins ever being embarrassed about something they had done or said.
"What about you?" The sheepish twin asked Harry, no doubt hoping to divert some of the attention. Harry blinked and tried to organise his thoughts again. The George he knew would never have shied from extra attention.
Harry remembered somewhat belatedly that they didn't really know him. "Sorry about that – the name's Harry Potter, and no, Harry is not short for Harold, Henry or whatever else you can think of."
The twins nodded amiably, plopping themselves opposite Harry. "Harry Potter, eh?" Fred mused aloud. "I think I've heard of that name somewhere."
Harry snorted. Snuffles, who had been listening to the conversation with amusement, stiffened beside him, but calmed down as Harry pressed a warning hand on his head.
George snapped his fingers. "History class!"
Fred grinned in recognition. "The Fall of You-Know-Who."
"But Harry Potter is dead."
"Not dead – vanished. Presumed dead, my dear twin."
Harry cleared his throat pointedly. "I'm still here, you know," he said wryly. He quoted that "rumours of my death have been much exaggerated."
"Huh." George scratched his head.
"Teaches them to scold us about assuming." Fred sniffed disparagingly.
"Making asses out of you and me, you mean," George reminded his mock-outraged brother. Snuffles made a whuffling sound that was very like doggy laughter.
Harry shook his head. "How about we start this over." He held out his hand, smiling disarmingly. "Harry James Potter, called Harry."
Fred flashed a molar-baring grin. "Alfred Georginton Weasley, called Fred," he reintroduced himself, grabbing Harry's arm and pumping it up and down until it felt like it could take no more abuse from the exuberant Weasley.
"Georginton Alfred Weasley, called George." It was George's turn to shake Harry's hand until it felt like it would fall off. "Abso-bally-lutely corking to make your acquaintance –"
"Simply spiffy!" Fred nodded sagely.
Harry laughed.
"So, where have you been for the past ten years?" They were simply curious; no harm would come of answering or evading.
"Just out and around," he said vaguely. "I can't really say."
They looked somewhat disappointed, but Fred pulled out a stack of Exploding Snap cards and began dealing them. "S'okay, Harry m'lad. Mum's the word and all that."
Harry sighed in relief. "Sorry, but –" he didn't want the twins to think he was an uptight stick-up-arse kind of person.
"Forget it, Harry. Ever played Slapjack 'Explosive Style'?"
"You'll have to teach me, George."
"I'm Fred!" The twin protested.
Harry grinned in spite of himself. "Nice try, but you can't fool me."
"Excellent, my dear twin!" George cried, wiping a fake tear from his eyes.
"A challenge!" Fred agreed enthusiastically.
Harry rolled his eyes. Some things never changed.
Due to Harry's quick reflexes, he picked up on the game quickly and Fred and George were sorely regretting teaching him in the first place. They had started gambling with knuts and sweets, and Snuffles had just begun to whine reprovingly and was currently giving Harry the Look.
Harry ignored him, as he was busy playing with the pile of winnings he had shoved into the centre of the floor. Fred and George looked up as the door slid open once more.
"Um…is there any more room?" Harry's head snapped up at the voice. Behind him, he felt rather than saw Fred and George stiffen.
"Malfoy," they stated in unison.
Draco shifted unhappily. "I'm sorry; if you'd rather I find another compartment…"
"Please do –"
"Of course not," Harry cut in hastily. He had no idea what would prompt the boys' reaction to Draco, considering they had probably never met him before. However, he seemed genuine enough, and Harry's instincts were seldom wrong. Besides, he was curious; they had received very little news while they were on the run, but Sirius had assured him he'd kept in touch with some of his (dodgier) sources.
Draco looked uncertainly at them. "Are you sure? I can –"
"The other compartments are all full, so unless you want to hitch a ride atop the cars instead, just join us. I promise they won't bite."
"And if they do?" Draco sat down warily.
Harry shrugged. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," he answered. "Now tell me; why are you guys so tense?"
Fred couldn't keep quiet any longer. "His father," he began, pointing a shaking finger at Draco, "sent him to kidnap our sister."
Harry blinked. "I beg your pardon?" he said incredulously. Something angry stirred in him, and he quashed it determinedly. "Start all over."
Draco made a poor attempt at a sneer. "Why should I tell you?"
George made a frustrated noise. "Because if you don't, you will be hitching a ride on the back of one of these cars!"
While they were arguing, Harry probed delicately at their minds with his Legilimency skills, careful not to let them sense a second presence in their heads. What he found made him bite back an oath, and he stood abruptly. "While you guys get over yourselves and decide to act nice, I'm going to take a trip to the necessaries. Would you guys like anything from the cart, though?" He dangled his winnings from the twins tauntingly underneath their noses and they grinned in spite of themselves.
"How about some liquorice wands, good sir?" George stood up and bowed elaborately, his arm hitting Fred on the nose.
His sibling glared as he bowed in turn. "Pumpkin Fizz, if you would be so kind, Harry old chap."
"Of course," Harry rolled his eyes, letting out a little laugh. "Pip, pip and all that." He turned to Draco. "And you?"
Draco smiled stiffly. "I wouldn't want to impose. Nothing for me, thank you."
"Fine. Come, Snuffles!" Harry beckoned to a guilty-looking Sirius and they left the compartment, the latter's head and tail hanging mournfully.
Harry looked up and down the train before ducking into the loo, his 'familiar' sheepishly following him. When Harry had locked the door, he rounded on the animagus.
"Ward the room for privacy," he ordered through gritted teeth. "You and I have some things to discuss."
Snuffles became Sirius, who put an imperturbable charm on the cubicle and several silencing charms before facing his charge almost reluctantly. Harry was smiling.
"Do you know what I found out?" he asked rhetorically. "I found out that Lucius Malfoy decided not to waste gold and prestige getting his obsequious self back up the Minister's arse, but is now a self-proclaimed – and pathetic – Dark Lord. He hasn't a tenth of Voldemort's power, and is not the most awe-inspiring leader, but he is a serious danger to muggleborns and halfbloods and Muggles."
Sirius squeaked, a most un-canine-like sound.
"Well? Did you know?"
'Of course he knows,' Harry thought savagely. 'In all these years, I have never so much as set my eyes on a copy of the Daily Prophet! Sirius kept up with news at home; he admitted as much a few days ago, but this is just…he promised he would let me know if anything big happened!'
"I knew," Sirius sighed, rubbing his eyes. "But you seemed to have so much on your mind. Think on it, Harry – I've done my best to give you a good childhood under the circumstances, but it was not the best. I just wanted you to have fun while it lasted."
Harry deflated and looked at his hands. "You've been a wonderful godfather, Padfoot. I'm sorry I snapped at you, but it's very…yeah."
Sirius smiled grimly. "It's okay," he said offhandedly. "Now, you promised those twins that you would get them sweets. What about your poor, starving godfather?"
Harry shook his head. "You're hiding something," he said suddenly. "What is it?"
Sirius sighed. "Nothing much gets past you, kiddo." He paused and fished around in his robe pockets, coming up with a battered scrap of parchment. Harry accepted it and scanned it quickly.
Archived As:
Dracona impuritus
Common Name(s):
Wyrm, Wurm
Origin:
Wizard
Status:
Extremely Rare
Class:
XXXXX
Lifespan:
Three days
Appearance:
It resembles nothing more than a two hundred-foot-long annelid with a many-fanged mouth and wings. It has numerous pores on its body, all of which ooze an odious slime that protects the Wyrm from drying out.
Behaviour:
Its sole purpose is to kill and destroy. It was also created with leeching magic from wizardfolk in mind; it possesses an aura of dark energy that will sap it from the very bodies of the magical folk. After three days, it will disintegrate, and all the stolen magic will be absorbed by the creator.
Properties:
The slime is mildly poisonous if not neutralised by powdered Ashwinder eggs first, and then will serve as an excellent remedy for burns.
Other:
It is created by feeding an ordinary annelid on human blood (the creator's) for eleven days, and etching certain runes on its body as it feeds. The ritual requires the soul sacrifice of a seventh child of a seventh child (pure wizarding heritage), after which the wyrm is left alone in complete darkness for another eleven days. When dropped in water, it will grow to its full size within twenty-three minutes and then start its rampage. Only two times in history has the creation of a Wyrm succeeded, the most notable incident being what Muggles call the Black Death, or the bubonic plague. While the Wyrm turns wizards into squibs, it has a far more devastating effect on Muggles. It is only visible to those of magical heritage and ability.
Harry sighed. "Lucius Malfoy wants to create a Wyrm so that he could be as powerful as Voldemort, right?"
Sirius nodded grimly. "He'll be even more so than Voldemort was. Even Voldemort was only up to twenty-five times stronger than the average wizard. A Wyrm's biological and magical makeup doesn't allow it to store more than a few hundred people's magic, but he'd still have more magic than the entire inner circle put together."
Harry bit his lip. "I can see why Gi – the Weasley Girl's got a guard around her. As Seventh Child…" he said slowly. At Sirius' questioning glance, he shrugged sheepishly. "I picked up on some of their thoughts. Legilimency."
"Harry, you know that it's unethical –"
Harry snorted, cutting his godfather's lecture off before it really began. "This is coming from the man with alley-cat morals." Sirius opened his mouth, to protest it, no doubt, but he was interrupted by Neasa's urgent hiss.
: Massster, people outside: Neasa's tongue flickered out, scenting the air. The snake's heat-sense was unhampered by the wards. : Three humansss: two malesss, one female. :
Harry sighed and looked at Sirius. "Can you turn yourself into something discreet? I don't fancy being branded as the guy who brings his familiar everywhere, including to the lav."
His godfather grumbled and pulled out his wand again. "Finite incantatem to undo it, okay? It'll take more time to set that up as the trigger, though…." Harry grinned. Sirius and his father had been whizzes in Transfiguration, and he loved to watch his godfather work at his subject.
: Tell the mutt to hurry: Neasa spat. : They are waiting outside:
Harry cancelled the wards quickly before leaning over and flushing the toilet and turning on the tap, running water over his hands to complete the façade. He picked up a squeaky rubber toy and smiled in amusement before pocketing it. 'Typical of Sirius to transfigure himself into something that would make plenty of noise given a chance,' he thought fondly.
He walked straight into someone he was not expecting to see.
His eyes widened and his jaw dropped as he stared into the weary face of Remus Lupin.
A/N: I'm not quite sure where the quote 'rumours of my death…' came from, but it's a quote, if a little corrupted.
