Harry Potter and the Amulet of NaRuin

By JaBootiekins

Chapter I

Library of Memories

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive were slumbering in the largest bedroom at the end of the hall upstairs. Loud snoring reveals the presence of their obese son, Dudley, who is sleeping in the second largest bedroom.

This summer was even hotter than the previous one. When the sun sank below the horizon the air was still nauseatingly hot and sticky. About two hours after sunset the temperature would drop dramatically. All the lawns on Privet Drive were just as sickly and brown as last summer's, perhaps even more so. Unused lawn mowers stood in the garages up and down the street as an odd sort of monument to the green grasses that once adorned the line of replica houses. The Dursley's were the only people on Privet drive that had the good sense, according to Mr. Dursley, to invest in a forced air conditioning and heating system. While they did try there was simply no way to exclude the smallest bedroom from the duct system. The contractor who had installed the forced air system was outraged when Mr. Dursley suggested that the smallest bedroom was a storage area and did not need to be included. Harry Potter's room did indeed look the part of a storage room, particularly a storage room at some great library. Books dominated the room. Towering stacks in every corner left one curious as to how a nearly 16 year old boy could possibly live in there. A small bed stood to one side. It was completely surrounded by books. Making it look more like some odd fortress, than the place where the most famous wizard of his time slept.

Harry Potter was not in his room at two thirty seven in the morning but instead in the backyard. In one of the many books that Harry had accumulated over the last four days, he had come across a routine. This particular routine was one of both mental and physical concentration. Harry would run through a series of physical challenges. He would run, only from one side of the Dursleys backyard to the other. Harry was not allowed to leave the Dursley's property without a full guard accompanying him. He would then run through all the various exercises that he had done in primary school and a few that the book had suggested. After this vigorous workout Harry would sit down cross-legged. He would mentally calm and relax every screaming muscle in his body one at a time. He would start at his left pinky toe and eventually end with the tip of right ear lobe.

Once this was completed Harry would go into his mind like it was an enormous spiraling library. It was odd to go into your own mind. To see yourself in your mind not just picturing yourself, but to be you in the setting of ones mind. It took most wizards an excruciating long time to do this. Harry had succeeded on only the 13th attempt. In this library there were files on every event of Harry's life.

The first eleven years of Harry's life were on the first floor. It is dimly light and everything on this floor looks as though it would be at ease in the Slytherin common room. The next floor in Harry's mental library is that of his first year at Hogwarts, every year at Hogwarts has its own floor almost as big as the first because of all of Harry's classes.

On the outside of each file is a brief summery and a list of the people involved with the memory. At the very top of the file blazed the date, location and the exact start and stop time of the memory. When Harry first succeeded in entering his mind he was amazed at the size and layout. The book said that everyone's mind is different and therefore takes on different forms. Harry had thought that all the time Hermione had dragged him and Ron to the library had paid off. The book had given an unusual example of one man's mind organization to be in the form Gringotts tunnels and written in the language of Goblins, which he could not understand.

Once a file is opened it is much like a pensive. The book says that this method is one that predates the pensive, which only pulls out the file and then opens it. Today Harry was getting down to business. He had done as the book had instructed and explored the original layout and familiarized himself with his library of memories. Today was the day that he would begin to reorganize. Standing in the middle of what he would call the lobby he formulated a plan of attack. The present library was in better organization than what Harry had thought it would be, but there was still a lot of work to do. He decided that year by year was not a good idea. Harry wanted it grouped by similar experiences and like knowledge. The book had given several suggestions as to how to organize your mind. Harry had chosen this one because the result would be that when Harry thought of one thing all of his knowledge of it would come to mind without effort. In the past Harry had suffered too much because he could not bring up knowledge that concerned the challenge he faced. The most painful example of this was the two-way mirror Sirius had given him.

After what felt like hours Harry was finally done. The trick to reorganizing your own mind was not to go through each file and move it manually but to realize that your library does what you tell it to. It is your mind after all. Harry had only to ask and explain how he wanted the library to be organized. What took the so long was all the questions of what was to be put where, as many memories had connections to more than one other memory. Harry solved this problem by sort of duplicating the memory as many times as needed.

Harry opened his eyes and went in the kitchen to have breakfast.

Harry came down stairs to eat dinner. After only a week at the Dursley's Harry was fed up with the nitwitted numskulls. The Dursley's were taking the threat from the Order members very seriously. They let Harry do as he pleased. But if it where possible they ignored him more now then ever before. No one else lived with them. They would simply denied Harry's existence. This did not bother Harry. What bothered Harry was that he felt utterly alone and disconnected from the world, both muggle and magical.

Harry was sending out letters like mad to Hermione, Ron, Lupin, Tonks; he even went so far as to write to Neville and Luna. The letters were not long and didn't really say much. Harry still was not sure if he wanted to be around people or not. He felt like no matter what he was different from everyone else.

Harry stood in front of a full-length mirror. He had changed. Taller and broader in the shoulders, Harry had really filled out. It helped that he could eat as much as he liked. Harry was starting to look more a man than a gangly teen-age boy. The striking green shirt he wore matched his eyes. Harry had awoken one morning to find four rather large shopping bags full of new clothes. No doubt that the Dursley's thought they might get in trouble if the Order knew that Harry was still being forced to wear Dudley's old clothes. Especially because Harry was now four inches taller than the five foot two pudgeball called Dudley.

Harry's eyes were changed as well. They no longer held the innocent look of one that does not know better. They were battle worn and intense.

Harry had finally decided, after another night of self-pity and loathing that it was somewhat logical that he would be the only one that could defeat Lord Voldemort. He knew that defeat really meant kill. It was he and Voldie one on one in the end. No one else besides Voldemort could kill Harry, now that was a comforting and disturbing thought. He really ought not fear anyone but Voldemort. But then again Voldemort ought to fear him. Voldemort could be defeated. It was not impossible. Now that gave Harry the strength to carry on. The hope that Harry could one day be almost like everyone else. To live with no expectations, to be able to live free, free from a pending doom, what would that be like? This line of reasoning brought Harry to the conclusion that if he was going to live or die due to the life or death of Voldemort he was dam well going to make the rest of Voldemort's life a living hell. He had certainly made Harry's horrible enough.

Harry smirked, thinking that Sirius could have very well said that very thing. Harry's heart burned. He missed Sirius. Harry had given what Luna had said about them waiting on the other side of the archway a lot of thought. An afterlife was very possible. Harry had never before held the hope of seeing his parents one day, until then.

In the end Harry didn't really think he could lose. If he lived, well that would be amazing not just for him but the wizarding world. If he died than at least he could finally meet his parents and could see Sirius again. Either way he would be done. Oddly enough Harry felt better. He still mourned Sirius and was worried about the out come of the war. Somehow, it all seemed manageable.

When Harry went down to breakfast he saw a note. It was not addressed to anyone but it was for Harry.

We have gone out to make arrangement for company to come over. At precisely four o'clock this evening I expect you to be elsewhere. I do not want to see hide nor hair of your existence in my household.

Harry looked at the clock it was a quarter past nine. He had roughly six and a half hours to be on the safe side. If Harry hurried he could get a good work out in and do some mental spellwork. Harry was learning how to do spells without speaking the incantation. He thought it would come in handy in battle.

Harry's favorite book was from Mad Eye Moody, an early birthday present, as he had called it. The book was bound in leather and had an aura of ancient magic about it. The Art of Defense, a book Moody claimed had saved his life too many times to count. It was perfect for Harry. It was an intense study of the magical theory behind defense, with moving charts and lots of practical tips. Even though Harry couldn't practice the spells over the summer he was determined to learn as much as he could.

Some time after midnight Harry fell asleep on top of a pile of books he had been cross-referencing at his desk. Hermione would be proud of his newfound studying abilities.

Hedwig swooped into the window not carrying her usual mouse. Instead she carried two letters. One letter was from the Head Master of Hogwarts, and the other was from Joslurhen daughter of Josiah.

A sharp pain in Harry's hand caused him to leap to his feet pulling out his wand automatically searching for the source of his abrupt awakening. Hedwig hooted softly on top of Harry's desk. She turned her head innocently and stuck out her leg. Harry noticed the two rolls of parchment and promptly untied them from her leg. She in turn retreated to her cage to get some much-needed rest.

Harry grabbed the first letter and settled down to read it. It was from Professor Dumbledore. Harry had come to dread letters from his Head Master. When Harry received the first letter his second day of the summer holidays it had taken him by surprise. The Head Master had taken it upon himself to keep Harry in the loop. It was like the professor was trying to make up for fifteen years of neglect. Harry was not truly angry with the old man any more. He had definitely tried to be. He was desperate to be angry. But Harry had found that he simply did not have it within himself to do it. To be as angry as this offense deserved would require all of Harry. Harry was a little more concerned about the vanquishing of a particular dark wizard at the moment. Maybe when that was done he would have the time to be properly angry with the man. Professor Dumbledore's letters were never very personal, they simply stated what had transpired and when. Harry could tell that Dumbledore had not yet forgiven himself for the wrong he had done. Good, Harry thought, no one could punish Dumbledore as well as Dumbledore himself. Harry had learned that one was one's own worst enemy after Cedric Diggory had died at the end of fourth year. This letter surprised Harry though. Dumbledore had gotten into the routine of sending his daily post in time with the arrival of the Daily Prophet. That way Harry got all the facts at the same time. Harry broke the seal and started to read.

Mr. Harry J. Potter,

All of Professor Dumbledore's letters were addressed in this way.

In the interest of keeping you informed I would like you to know that there is a possibility you may have additional relatives, one to be exact.

Joslurhen daughter of Josiah seems to be your cousin. It seems that Josiah was the brother of your mother. He was thought to be dead at birth. He was your mother's fraternal twin. The hospital switched him with a boy whose parents have the last name of Porter. The real Porter boy died shortly after the switch was made. Josiah and his wife tragically died in a confrontation with death eaters around the same time as your parents died. The Porters raised Joslurhen as their granddaughter.

The Porters and Joslurhen have been meeting with the Dursley's to arrange a meeting with you. The Dursley's have no idea that the Porters are not muggles. They are under the impression that the Porters are in need of a grounds keeper of sorts for the summer. Mr. and Mrs. Dursley's are currently petitioning me for permission to let you go to a summer camp. They have an odd idea of a summer camp seeing as they would get paid for you to go. I am leaving it up to you Harry. You may go stay with the Porters for the rest of the summer, stay with the Dursley's or you may invite Ms. Joslurhen to Grimmwauld Palace for the remainder of the summer. That is where the entire Weasley family is currently residing. Inform me of your decision.

The letter ended as all of Professor Dumbledore's letters did, with his name and the title of Head Master of Hogwarts. Harry was shocked; there was no other way to describe it. He sat staring at the letter for a very long time before he realized that the second letter lay unopened.

The seal was blue and it had a snake entwined with a phoenix. The seal was beautiful. It was as if the animals where gently swaying in a breeze. This letter was from his cousin. Harry was afraid to believe it. Could this be some cruel joke? Harry had dreamed before he got his letter from Hogwarts that some long lost relative would show up at the doorstep and take him away. How could this be true? 'Well how are you going to find out if you don't open the letter?' asked a little whining voice at the back of his mind. And with that he gently popped the seal, it was too beautiful to break. Harry's eyes scanned the parchment rapidly.

Dear Mr. Harry James Potter

I am Joslurhen daughter of Josiah brother of Lily.

I presume that Professor Dumbledore gave you only the facts about the relationship between you and I. What I doubt that Professor Dumbledore told you was the story of how. How we came to be estranged from one another. How my parents died to protect yours. How we used to play together. How our parents used to think it was hilarious that we looked so much alike and were even born on the same day.

I am getting ahead of my self. Please forgive me. I will start at the beginning I suppose.

At the Hospital in which our parents were born there was a young woman by the name of Georgia. She had just started to work at the Hospital a few weeks before. Georgia was very old and she was suffering from the early stages of dementia. No one knew of this at the time. In fact they did not find out about it until a couple years before our birth. One of the many mistakes she made before she quietly left the Hospital, rather than to be embarrassed by the public knowledge of her illness, was the swap of the Evans and Porter boys. At the time, she was a maternity nurse in solely charge of attaching name bracelets to newborn babies. To save time she processed the Evans and Porter boys at the same time. Georgia cut off the temporary nametags of both boys thinking she knew which was which. She was wrong. Thus Lily and Josiah were separated. How could Georgia confuse the only girl born at the hospital that day with anyone? It seems it was a feat even she could not accomplish. I do not mean to be harsh but really how could a Hospital hirer a mentally ill person and not know it. They are doctors after all.

Lily and Josiah grew up with no knowledge of each other. Both received letters from Hogwarts and finally meet for the first time since birth. They both were sorted into Gryffindor were they became almost inseparable. They shared a most uncommon bond. One seemed to know when the other was hurt or needed them for some reason. They also could find each other if they simply thought about the other one and walked without purpose. Almost like Fred and George Weasley though you are hard pressed to see one and not the other. If you do you better be on your guard they will definitely be up to no good.

My father discovered that Mr. and Mrs. Porter were not his real parents when he needed the 'blood of his blood' for a complicated potion. He was a Potions Master at Hogwarts. As soon as he added the blood it was apparent that his Mum was not after all his Mother. By deduction and a test he found that neither was his Dad his Father. Thus began Josiah's search for his biological parents. After a lengthy search Josiah succeeded in finding Mr. and Mrs. Evans. He confirmed his beliefs that they were his parents without anyone's knowledge, including your Mother's. The night that 'Voldermort' attacked our parents my father was on his way to break the news to your Mother. I much prefer to call him Tom as he loathes it so much. My Dad, Josiah, and my Mum, Rita, left me with the only grandparents that I have ever known and went in search of Lily. My Dad used the bond between himself and Lily to find where she was hidden. My parents arrived mere seconds before Tom. My parents died trying to warn your parents of the oncoming attack. None of the newspapers reported much about the death of my parents. They did have much more important things to report to the world.

You may ask as to how I know all of this. It is quite simple. My Dad had in his possession a type of diary. This particular magical diary automatically recorded all the events of his life from the time he received it along with any memories he specifically put in it. He meant for me know him as he knew himself. My Father took the fact that Tom left most children orphans to heart. He did not want to take the chance that I would never know him. I however did not discover the diary till this year. My Gran and Gramps boxed up all of my parents' personal possessions to save till I wanted to go through them. I only ever poked through them until this summer when I got the sudden urge to experience them through that in which they had left behind. In the wee hours of the morning in the last box at the very bottom lay the diary. It took me a week to read the whole thing twice. I then contacted Professor Dumbledore about you possibly being related to me. At first he scoffed at me. This only made me more determined to prove to him that my Father did not make mistakes. I collected my Fathers blood samples, how he ever got a hold of Mr. and Mrs. Evans blood I will never know. I re-tested them and provided the results to Professor Dumbledore. He could not deny them. He still would like to test you and I before he will consent to let you leave the Dursley's.

About that, I have heard of your affection to the Weasley family and your distaste for your own. I doubt that you would want to stay with my family seeing as you do not yet know them. Don't worry I don't expect you to jump right in and treat me and mine like we were never strangers. I would love to spend the remainder of the summer holidays at the Weasley's home if it were to make you feel more comfortable than your present surroundings.

I am looking forward to seeing you soon.

Sincerely

Joslurhen R. Porter

Harry re-read the letter three times trying to take in all the new information. Joslurhen sure was thorough if nothing else. Harry was not sure if he liked Joslurhen. She seemed okay he guessed. The letter seemed to lack a personality, did the writer? Joslurhen, Harry would just have to wait and see about her, she may be a female magical Dudley. That made Harry grin broadly. Dudley just wouldn't be Dudley Dursley if he were a girl and a witch. The mental image alone sent Harry into fits of silent laughter. It felt good to laugh.

A rather large growl emanating from Harry's middle made him realize that it was close to noon and he had not eaten since this time the day before. Harry rushed to pull on clean clothes and rushed down stairs.

Harry sat in his library of memories sifting through and reviewing all that he had been reading. Battle strategies, both muggle and magical was his main topic for the day. Voldemort scoffed at muggle knowledge. Harry knew better than to let the source of the information taint the validity of it. After an hour or so Harry came back to the present. Today was the day that Joslurhen and the Porters were to visit. The Dursley's had left another note explaining that he was to be in the living room at precisely two twenty-five, in his best clothes. He was not told why. Harry had been owled the day before as to the arrangements that had been made. Harry was waiting to see Joslurhen in person before he decided if he was going to the Weasley's. Harry was very confident that even if Joslurhen were the most boring person on earth he would still rather go with her than stay at the Dursley's any longer.

Harry sat on the end of the couch at two o'clock. He wanted to collect his thoughts before the Dursley's came down. Harry had not expected to be this nervous. Visions of what might happen came to his mind. Mostly they were worst-case scenarios. What if she really were a female version of Dudley? Or worse, what if she didn't like him? Harry had to clear his mind this was not doing him any good. Harry concentrated on a flame in his mind's eye. Slowly feeding all his fears, worries and thoughts into this fire, Harry started to relax. With a exhale Harry opened his eyes to find all three Dursley's milling about in the room.

The doorbell rang just as Uncle Vernon was forming a cutting remark aimed for Harry. The Porters' entered the room. Mr. Porter was short and well rounded. He had a cheerful face that reminded Harry of Santa. Though Mr. Porter hardly had enough hair to fit the part as only a few black strands clung stubbornly to the top of his head. Mrs. Porter complemented Mr. Porter she was thinner but not drastically so like Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Her hair was golden blond with strands of silver weaved through to make it look as if her hair were highlighted. A smile slid easily onto both their faces as they shook Harry's hand.

Joslurhen defied any scenario that Harry had come up with. She was stunningly beautiful. Her dark locks fell in waves and ended half way down her back. Piercing green eyes so much like his own stared back at him. She had fair skin the color of milk and her teeth dazzled as Joslurhen's smile beamed at Harry.

" I am very pleased to finally meet you Mr. Potter. I am Joslurhen Porter. How do you do?"

"Good, and you?" Was the best answer that Harry could muster.

All was silent at Number Twelve, Grimmwauld Palace. The usual comings and goings of Order members had slowed down to a halt as it did every day at three in the morning. Harry lay on his bed unable to sleep. He was amazed at what had occurred within the last few days. Harry had not only discovered that he had another relative but he liked her. Harry had left the Dursley's that very afternoon that he had met Joslurhen. Professor Dumbledore came and did the blood test to verify that Joslurhen was his relative. The Dursley's were outraged when he marched into the living room carrying a small brief case. Uncle Vernon turned three shades of purple that Harry had never seen. Aunt Petunia fainted, as did Dudley, right on top of her. At least Uncle Vernon had enough sense to take his wife and son and hide without so much as uttering a word in Dumbledore's presence. Harry would cherish that moment for the rest of his life.

Professor Dumbledore administered the test and then left after the full guard arrived to transport Harry and Joslurhen to Number Twelve, Grimmwauld Palace. Joslurhen said goodbye to her grandparents and picked up a small suitcase Harry had not noticed before. Harry had packed just in case he had wanted to leave immediately. This was only possible because Hermione had given him a never full trunk. Harry fit all his books and belongings easily. Harry let Hedwig fly. Transporting an owl is somewhat noticeable and noisy.

When Harry had arrived at Grimmwauld Palace Mrs. Weasley attacked him with hugs and questions as to his health. When she finally let go Ron replaced her. Hermione was next.