Disclaimer: This fanfiction is based on the Harry Potter universe created by
J.K. Rowling = Not mine
The plot is based on the Severitus- challenge therefore is not mine either.
Summary: 6th year Severitus – challenge. On Harry's sixteenth birthday, Harry finds out
that he is not the son of James Potter but rather the son of Severus Snape.
Harrys casting the cruciatus on one Bellatrix Lestrange at the Department
of Mysteries will have some severe consequences for Harry. Not Azkaban so.
Fudge is still Minister for some time and as moronic as ever. Some aspects
Might be AU.
Rating: PG13 mild language
Spoilers: All five books (SS/PS; CoS; PoA; GoF; OotP)
A/N: Hi, everyone, thank you so very much for your wonderful reviews, here is the
second chapter. Enjoy!
Chapter 1: A Fugitive, Diagon Alley and Hi dad!
Privet Drive 4 –Little Whinging – Surrey
Six o'clock
Harry Potter dreamt. It wasn't a very nice dream -who would have guessed. In this dream he was running -running down a seemingly endless corridor with multiple doors. Every meter of it the same, same doors, same floor, no passage crossing …nothing…just a straight corridor…and no variation at all to mark the passing of time or space. It seemed as if he wouldn't move at all. He knew something was following him, some nameless, awful menace was on his trail and slowly catching up with him, coming ever closer. It mustn't ever catch him. He tried to open the doors to escape but they wouldn't budge, they were all locked and every time the thing would come closer, so he ran on. He was tiring fast now. The thing had nearly caught up with him. There… an open door, finally! Mobilizing his last reserves of strength, he jumped through the door…and …woke up, a suppressed scream on his lips and his heart racing like mad almost as if he really had run through that corridor. Bating his breath, he listened for any signs of the Dursleys waking up. He breathed a sigh of relief when he couldn't hear anything but loud snoring from his relatives respective bedrooms. Not that they had ever been physical abusive, but verbal abuse was common place. A verbal monologue of uncle Vernon could really spoil the best of days and today was his sixteenth birthday after all. No need to spoil it anymore than it already had been.
He was still unable to quench the feeling of dread he had felt during the nightmare, but fortunately as far as his scar was concerned, it was nothing Voldemort connected. Just a normal nightmare for once. He automatically reached for his glasses on the small bedside table. When everything swam out of focus, last night's strange events came rushing back. His painful animagus transformation…his potion OWL results (man will Snape be mad)…later the even more painful transformation into a Snape look-alike, his first birthday present of the day…his now perfect sight…the Gringotts key…the birth certificate…the truth about his father.
After all what happened yesterday, he was now filled with nervous energy and anticipation to solve the mystery that was Eric Emrys Snape. How did his Potions Professor end up being his father? He couldn't fathom it. The man hates everything Gryffindor -how did he end up with his mum? Did Snape love his mother? Why did James Potter adopt him? Why didn't his real father claim him after his parents were killed? Why didn't Mme Pomfrey ever tell him? She was at least named as witness for the Adoption, so she must know. Does Dumbledore know? These questions were running through his mind continuously for what seemed like hours, when in reality only a quarter hour had passed. Looking pensively out the window, he noticed that it was still quite early -the sun couldn't have risen for more than an hour. Checking the time on his alarm clock, he noticed it was six thirty. He contemplated to contact Dumbledore first but one glance at Hedwig's empty cage, who was probably still out hunting, let him reconsider. Besides, the information was too sensitive. Either the ministry or Voldemort could intercept owls easily, even his brave Hedwig.
He decided to check out Gringotts first before he would contact Dumbledore. Let Dumbledore wait, he thought resentfully. It wasn't as if anyone who previously knew Harry Potter would recognize him now, this was the biggest advantage of his new appearance. Anyone who seemed to "recognize him", would not make the connection to either James or Harry Potter.
He changed into a fresh pair of too short trousers, a fresh shirt and a pair of Dudley's cast off sneakers, which never had fitted him before but now after his sudden growth spurt were a perfect fit. He also pocketed some galleons and his one and only twenty-pound note his uncle had ever awarded him for any reason. It was meant as a bribe, figuring that yelling wouldn't do any good in keeping his nephew quiet and out of sight while treating an important business partner to aunt Petunias excellent cooking. Besides there were still those freaks his nephew was so fond off to consider. Reminiscing that particular evening, Harry's mood brightened shortly. Escaping being bored to death by his uncle ramblings about drills and getting twenty pounds out of it was surly one of his fonder memory's of his relatives. Hell, he even couldn't remember when he last had gotten any pocket money from his relative's much less twenty English pounds, a smirk forming on his face.
Grabbing his new birth certificate, the Gringotts key and his wand, he made out to leave the house. When a thought struck him. How to sneak around the order members keeping watch? If Moody was on guard duty Harry wouldn't get far with his invisibility coat. That bloody magical eye of his could pass through nearly anything including invisibility cloaks. Pondering this problem, an idea begun to form in his head. Well, he could slip out of the window in the ground floor bathroom, the one next to his old bedroom (namely the cupboard) and transform into his raven form. At least that way he could slip of the grounds unnoticed he though was slightly leery of flying on his own wings too. Deciding this was as good a plan as it would ever get he left his room starting silently down the steps. He had nearly reached the front door when the doorbell rang loudly through the house. Harry froze, not wanting to be seen by either his relatives or whoever was on the other side of that door. He was not yet ready for the questions that would be asked about his new appearance. He quickly sprinted to the small ground level bathroom. No moment to soon, he had just closed the door behind him, when with a loud bang the front door exploded. He could hear his aunt and cousin wailing loudly. His uncle altogether used another approach. Roaring like a bull and an angry "BOY" on his lips, he came charging downstairs, sure that it was all his nephews doing. While his nephew was about to charge out of the bathroom ready to fight. Thinking this couldn't be the order. They would never blow up the front door…at least unprovoked. What if these are Death Eaters? Maybe the wards Dumbledore placed were breached. He was just about to open the bathroom door again and storm out when the voice of one very flustered sounding Minister Fudge made him stop. His curiosity pricked, he opted to open the door only slightly. Now he could … gather information … before charging in and with the entire ruckus the early morning visitors made, the soft creak of the bathroom door wasn't noticed. He couldn't let the chance pass to listen unobserved into a conversation between the Minister of magic and his infernal magic hating uncle. This couldn't be anything but amusing.
"Where is Harry Potter?" came the venomous voice off Minister Fudge. The name Harry Potter was spit out in such a way Harry doubted that even Snape could manage it any better.
Harry was slightly confused now. Sure Minister Fudge was a publicity hungry opportunist who made a show of liking Harry only if it's suited his purposes. Harry had thought, now that Voldemort had made his appearance in the Ministry of Magic and therefore confirmed Harry and Dumbledore's story that the Minister would be slightly less inclined to make him out to be a lunatic. His musings were broken by the angry bellow of his uncle.
"FREAKS! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! NOW!"
"Now you listen good man…"
"I'M NOT YOUR GOOD MAN."
"Now you see hear, Harry Potter…" Fudge managed to squeeze in.
At this point Harry could barely contain his laughter. Nice to see that he wasn't the only one who had a hard time squeezing a word in here and there when talking to Vernon Dursley.
"DON'T YOU DARE TO SAY THAT WORTHLESS FREAKS NAME. WHO THE HELL ARE YOU ANYWAY?"
Just great now Fudge thinks I'm trying to pose as a Pseudo Voldemort scaring my relatives witless.
"WE HAVE TO PRESS CHARGES…" Fudge managed to throw in his voice volume rising considerably.
Charges? What is this idiot talking about now, than a thought hit him…it can't be….How did he find out? It was only Lestrange and me in the Atrium, was it? All of a sudden Harry didn't consider the conversation between Fudge and his uncle as particularly amusing anymore. Mind racing, he locked the door. Even so he didn't look like Harry Potter anymore, his trademark scar was a dead give away, his hair covering it up only slightly. Additionally, the presence of a stranger here at Privet Drive was highly suspicious and worthy of an inquiry. He had no doubt that his true identity would be uncovered almost immediately -his sudden change of appearance would be considered as an attempt to run for it. Outside he could still hear his uncle and Fudge roaring at each other.
"PRESSING CHARGES? YOU LET A CRIMINAL STAY IN OUR HOUSE? HOW DARE YOU!!!!"
He had to leave now. If they were to search the house, the door wouldn't stay closed for long, a simple alohomora would take care of that matter very fast. He couldn't risk to stay and maybe being detected. He had to transform in to his recently acquired animagus form! Flying can't be so hard can it, birds do it all the time, don't they. After all he himself was flying on a broomstick since his first year. Quickly he flung the window open and sat down on the windowsill. Luckily their neighbours of number 6 had gone on vacation. Therefore, he was rather safe from being discovered by muggles.
"NOW BE QUIET YOU DISGUSTING MUGGLE, THIS IS THE MINISTER OF MAGIC YOUR TALKING TO…" , without to much success Percy' s pompous voice tried to cut in loudly, he still seemed to be the ministers assistant.
Harry concentrated hard on his form. It seemed to resist. Sweat was running down his forehead. He tried harder but the raven was elusive. What if he can't transform anymore because he wasn't Harry Potter anymore…for all he knew those potions would change his genetic make up…fear gripped his heart.
"FIRST YOU BREAK DOWN MY FRONT-DOOR, NOW YOU ARE TRYING…"
How his uncle meant to finish that sentence Harry would probably never know, because of a muttered "stupefy" uttered by a third person set an end to his uncle's tirade.
"AURORS! SEARCH THE HOUSE!" The minister's voice roared through the house. "But thoroughly! Leave no crannies or nooks unsearched. Harry Potter must be held responsible for his crimes. Breaking in to the Department of Mysteries, performing an unforgivable,…the nerve of him. Even Dumbledore can't help him now." From upstairs, the frightened and quite vocal protests of his aunt and Dudley could be heard.
As the minister screeched this through the house, Harry began to panic trying even harder to transform. He heard two sets of footsteps moving upstairs, while one seemed to search the ground-floor level, starting with the kitchen. The voices of Dudley and his aunt were cut short, probably stupefied by one of the aurors who went upstairs. He could hear steps coming closer now, strangely similar to his dream last night. Again, he felt the dread filling him. Finally, as the person outside was trying to turn the doorknob, he transformed with a soft popping noise in a raven.
Catching a glimpse in the mirror, for a second, he saw his animagus form for the first time in natura –and was shocked. Even as a raven, he couldn't be normal. The Raven had green eyes, a few coppery streaked feathers on his head and above his left eye instead of the trademark lightning bolt shaped scar he now sported a not very noticeable silver-grey spot. He heard unbearable loud cursing from the other side of the door, making him wince due to his enhanced sense of hearing. Just as the door was reduced to a pile of cinders with a redactor curse – that idiot didn't even think of using alohomora, YAY for cowboy Percy- he spread his wings, jumped outside … and …fell.
In shock, he wildly flapped his wings and therefore could dampen his fall into the rosebushes enough without retaining any serious injuries. Even so it's was anything but a comfortable landing. Trying to catch his bearings he glimpsed through the pretty dense thicket, which called itself a rose bed. Well mostly knee height miscellaneous weed and the occasional rose bush here and there. Since Harry refused to garden anymore, the garden had been left to its own devices -At least in this heat. So now, he was in an ideal position to listen what these idiots came up with. A face with red hair appeared in the window above him, observing the garden. Harry heard Percy call out, "Mr Fudge, sir? If you want to take a look at this…?" As Fudge and the rest of his aurors reached him, "redactor curse, Weatherby? Wouldn't have a simple "alohomora" been enough?" Came the acid remark from one of the aurors. The voice seemed vaguely familiar. A slightly flustered Minister Assistant mumbled something incoherent; Harry would have snickered if he were human, the adrenalin rush forgotten for the moment. "I think Potter used this way to flee justice, sir." "Mmh you might be right." conceded the Minister. Just then, the second auror barged into the bathroom. "Minister look what I've found in what must have been Potter's room…", Past tense? I resent that remark it's still my room, you moron., Raven Harry thought "What? Who said that?", came the panicked voice of said Moron. "Who said what?", Asked the minister irritated taking the offered object. "But you you've just he…never mind", came the shaken reply from "moron" as Harry had labelled him in his mind. Interesting, I must try this again sometime moron seemed to have caught my thought. "A step-by-step guide to become an animagus? Honestly, Brown. Do you think Potter has somehow managed the animagus-transformation? This sort of training takes years if you know what to do, I myself have never finished it and I tried for three years." No wonder there Fudge at this point the Ministers voice turned into a squeak for a second before he continued more forcefully "I don't think that a mere schoolboy would be able to learn to become one, auror Brown." Brown? Some relations of Lavender,perhaps? "We are leaving now. No point in staying here. Potter has clearly turned tail and run. We have to inform the media that Potter is on the run, a fifteen year old using an unforgivable on a human being, what has this world come to, we can't let this go unpunished. Enervate his relatives and obliviate them, Weatherby .." "Hem hem Weasley Sir…" "Whatever, as I said… Weasley and I will disapparate to the ministry. You and Dawlish will stay here keeping watch on the house under the disillusionment charm. Dawlish you will stay inside the house."
Harry felt sick. This is bad this is really bad. Just great, I heard aunt Petunia saying that Ms Figg is visiting some ill relative of hers over the weekend so no means to contact any body from the order. He couldn't contact the order member guarding the house because this Brown person too would be around the house unseen under a Disillusionment charm it simply was to risky. Moreover, I have no way to contact anybody. Why does he think Dumbledore won't be able to help me, anyway.
Man, my life sucks. Not even ten minutes had passed between the doorbell and him sitting in the rosebushes. Where is Dumbledore for god's sake. The order member whoever it was must have seen Fudge arriving on the doorstep of his aunt and uncle's house and contacted Dumbledore. So were was Dumbledore? Unless … but the order wouldn't repeat last year's mistake, would he? They wouldn't put Mundungus Fletcher on the watch after last summer's events, would they? Not after the Dementors attack and especially not while Ms Figg was staying with her sick relative.
A quarter hour later, when Harry was sure that he couldn't be seen by any of Minister Fudges toadies, he tried his flying skill again. After many trial runs and swearing, he finally managed to get airborne and stay that way. As long as he didn't try to control the process consciously. Every time this happened he was in danger to crush to the ground. Then he met her!
The Ministry of Magic "Oval Office"
Seven o' clock
Not even an hour had passed since the "Potter-disaster" as Fudge has begun to call it in his own mind.
This didn't go at all as expected. Potter was supposed to be taken into custody as his special birthday present from Fudge. Alas, that wretched boy had the audacity to leave the house before he could be apprehended.
After the minister debacle in June, when six! fourteen and fifteen year olds, led by Potter had managed to infiltrate the ministry building destroyed a valuable prophecy and battled a dozen of Voldemorts Death Eaters.
How his close friend Lucius had ended up in this very same group of Death Eaters his mind still couldn't grasp. Lucius who always was such an altruist, donating large sums to Saint Mungo's, funding ministry projects, bankrolling Fudge...And he always seems oh so noble, with a healthy dose of wizarding pride. However, all this wasn't the worst of it. No. On that night, Lord Voldemort appeared and duelled with Dumbledore and escaped with Lestrange. Afterwards he, Fudge, was scolded like a small schoolboy by the great Albus Dumbledore for his "lack of judgement", forcing him to publicly announce You-know-who's return and loosing face in front of his citizens who are by now calling for a vote of no confidence. Who in his right mind could have believed this outrageous news last year without proper validation of all the facts? He would have been the laughing stock of the entire wizarding world. How dare Dumbledore humiliate him? It all comes down to Potter.
After more than a month of evaluating and cross evaluating the data of that night one of his closest confidants Dolores Umbridge had accidentally stumbled over the key. Potter had cast an unforgivable on a human being. It didn't matter that this said human being was Bellatrix Lestrange. It didn't matter that this curse only lasted a second or two before Lestrange could break it. It only mattered that Potter had cast it. It's not a very well known fact that the Ministry is spiked with magic wards and magical detectors which can detect and record any magic that had been done in one area or other of the building. The usual ones that are in use only record which harmful curse, charm or hex had been cast at any given time in the area and matching them up to the individual's wand signature, setting an silent alarm. Now wands have been lost before and if your scene of crime had been abandoned without any eyewitnesses, one could always plead he or she had lost his or her wand. Now the one in the atrium was slightly different. Additionally to detect the wand signature it also records the magical aura, which can't be duplicated -rather like the muggle retina scan if one would make such a vulgar analogy. Something else is new about this one. It stores these images in a pensieve to evaluate them further at ones leisure. The only reason Potter was still walking free is that You-know-who had duelled Dumbledore right afterwards -weeks were wasted analyzing that part until Potter's transgression had been uncovered. A week ago this particular event was again examined but this time starting when Lestrange and Potter appeared in the Atrium.
He himself, Dolores Umbridge, Percy Weatherby and his most trusted aurors Robert Dawlish and Dexter Brown had discussed every aspect of Potter's transgression. The law states it clearly, as soon as one casts an unforgivable on a fellow human being he or she has to serve a life sentence in Azkaban. There is no mitigation possible, not age and not even the fact that the curse didn't seem to be very successful.
Only fully trained aurors are allowed to use the Unforgivables in dear need or in interrogations. As soon as Potter is in the clutches of the ministry not even the great Dumbledore can help him. Nevertheless, here was the crux of the problem, they didn't have Potter. Once again, careful planning has been thrown to the wind because of said Harry Potter. Dumbledore mustn't find out to early of what the minister was planning. Still somehow it seemed as if Dumbledore had found out, like last years hearing. Someone, of his closest trustees must have told Dumbledore. But who? His train of thought was rudely interrupted when Dolores, Weatherby and Grizabelle of Skye the owner of the "Daily Prophet" walked in. There was much to discuss.
The Order of the Phoenix, headquarters
Grimmauld Place 12
Nine o' clock
A subdued group sat on the kitchen table of number 12 Grimmauld Place. Only ten minutes earlier Remus Lupin, Ms Weasley, Ginny, Luna, Neville, Ron and Hermione (who finally had gotten together over the past two weeks) were gaily discussing Harry's birthday party, when an owl swooped in depositing the latest issue of the Daily Prophet in Hermione's lap. Cursory scanning the newspaper at first until her eyes fell on a particular article reading it quietly her face getting paler and paler by the second. Ron sitting next to her and happily chewing on some bacon glanced over the paper and started coughing, dispersing the content of his mouth evenly over the table.
"EW…That's gross Ron!…can't you eat properly?" came the disgusted voices of Luna and Ginny almost simultaneously, wiping away bit's of bacon from there faces.
"RONALD WEASLEY, haven't I taught you anything?, screeched his mother mortified at her youngest sons table manners.
"But mom look,…", pointing at the article a very pale Hermione was just reading.
Ms Weasley took the paper from the unresisting hands of Hermione Granger. Gasped and began to read the article aloud…
HAS THE BOY WHO LIVED GONE DARK?
Concerning the events in June which led to the discovery of You-Know-Who's return, it was discovered that Mr Potter has also been in the Ministry.
The Reasons for his presence in the ministry remains a close kept secret which our source within the ministry unfortunately could not uncover yet. It was recently uncovered however, by a new contraption, which can scan and detect magical auras and wand signatures that Mr Potter actually used the unforgivable cruciatus curse on one Bellatrix Lestrange. The information is furthermore stored similar to a memory in a pensieve for later reflections. This curse is punishable with life Azkaban by law. One might argue that it was only a convicted Death Eater, he had cast the curse on. This correspondent feels it's rather frightening that a mere boy in the tender age of fifteen could have made such a powerful spell work. With a heavy heart, our own Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge had to file official charges this very morning against the boy-who-lived. Our brave Minister himself went with his personal assistant Percy Weasley and two aurors to apprehend Harry Potter this very morning. Unfortunately Mr Potter has already fled the house. How deep the-boy-who-lived has already delved in the Dark Arts I do not dare to ask myself.
Courtesy to the Department of Wizarding Education this correspondent has also uncovered that Harry Potter achieved the highest mark in the defence against the Dark Arts OWL since Tom Marvolo Riddle, a.k.a. You-know-Who, attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Auror Dawlish says "It is rather frightening that the Potter boy reached such high marks in his OWL exams. This coupled with the fact that he actually managed to cast an unforgivable leads to the suspicion this boy must have a much better understanding of the Dark Arts as most fully grown wizards."
On went the article, further mangling the reputation of one Harry Potter finishing with the sentence.
I hope that the aurors will catch Harry Potter soon, before he himself becomes the next Dark Lord.
Maple Wood, "Daily Prophet" correspondent
Suddenly the following silence was broken by hearty laughter. Shocked and startled faces turned to Ginny Weasley who was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down her face.
"Ginny" admonished her mother "this is no laughing matter." "I know mum …" she pressed out between gales of laughter "I just imagined Fudges face … when… he… arrived there … and … Harry had… already been gone." At this moment wide grins spread over the faces of Ron, Luna and Neville.
"I would rather like to know why no one of the order has noticed anything." came Hermione's quiet and pensieve voice. "I mean the house is still watched by the order, why haven't you been informed by now? By the way who is watching the house today, not Mundungus Fletcher I hope…" she trailed off when she noticed the appalled faces of Remus Lupin and Mrs Weasley. With a hasty "I've got to check something" Remus quickly left the house.
"Is it true that Harry used an unforgivable? How could he do such…"asked an worried looking Ms Weasley but was interrupted be five irate teenagers slowly and deliberately rising from their chairs, there face set in stony mask so it was Neville who answered in an uncharacteristic deadly silent voice.
"I do not know if he really cast the cruciatus curse but what I do know is that his godfather has been killed by Lestrange five minutes earlier. I can easily imagine the anger that would drive him to use this curse and frankly, I do not care. You know what? If Fudge and the daily prophet keep that charade up and actually manage to turn everyone against him he may not have another choice. In that case, I know were I will stand and it won't be with the ministry." After having said his piece he stormed out of the kitchen, followed by his friends leaving a shell shocked Ms Weasley in the kitchen.
They are right, she thought. If the wizarding world actually kept their fickle attitude up Harry simply might not have any other choice. If this would come to pass it could be singularly blamed on Fudge. That man was the worst head of state they ever had.
Her musings were interrupted when Remus entered the kitchen. "Have you found something out?" "Well the house is being watched I'm sure of it. I couldn't see anyone but I could smell him. It must be one of Fudges aurors." "Did you find Mundungus?" "No trace off him. I swear if he abandoned his spot again …" He didn't finish this sentence, remembering who he was talking to. "Give him a good talking to." He finished rather lamely. Wanly smiling Molly Weasley asked "What? And not box his ears? Well, we could always try some experimental products of the twins on him. I'm sure with the right incentive he would willingly serve as guinea pig" She finished maliciously.
Remus gasped "Gosh! I always wondered were the twins got their mean streak." He barely managed to duck as a roll was thrown his way and with a "got to go. have to talk to Dumbledore", he quickly left the house again.
100 m above the Thames
nine o'clock
Raven Harry wasn't in a particular good mood. It was his birthday and he was flying above the Thames towards London. He loved flying. It was even better with his own wings, to have complete control over the flight. Even flying on the best broom couldn't quite measure up to the absolute freedom his own wings gave him. No what he detested was his new and probably permanent travelling companion he acquired halfway over Little Whinging. A rather bossy female raven called Kara.
He just was secure enough to stay airborne when this nuisance made her presence known. "SQUAWK, Hey man-raven you doing it all wrong, SQUAWK", came the rather amused sounding voice from somewhere behind him. Panicking he lost control again plunging down towards terra firma. With a few laboured flaps of his wing's he regained his equilibrium before he could become pancake a la Harry Raven. A sound like a raspy laugh could be heard again. Annoyed he turned his head towards the voice glaring daggers at the raven who was trailing him. "You're doing it all wrong, SQUAWK. You know, SQUWAK, the movements of your wings, SQUAWK. " "What do you mean? And how do you know I'm not a raven" He tried to say but out came only a series of cawing noises. Nevertheless, the raven seemed to understand it anyway. Making again noises that must be considered as a raven's version of laughter.
"SQUWAK,SQUWAK, you do not look like one, wizard-ling. SQUWAK, you do not smell like one, SQWAK, and most important you can't fly, yet you don't look like a nestling, SQUWAK." "So, can you show me how to fly properly?" "Say please, SQUWAK" "Please" "I consider it, SQUWAK" laughing her raven laughter. He was absolute sure now, this raven was female. Oh great, he thought, an opinionated female raven after all that has happened in the last twelve hours. Who or what deity in this universe did I piss off. Annoyed he tried to flap his wings harder to gain more speed and hopefully, loose this bloody nuisance. No chance there. The raven easily kept up, barely ever flapping her wings, riding the air currents. Soon Harry's wings begun to hurt so he targeted an oak tree in the middle of a field for his landing. Rather clumsily, he sat down on a branch. Again sounding rather amused, the she-raven landed next to him. "You're annoying you know that? What's is you're name anyway?" "My nest-mates call me Kaw-Kaw. SQUWAK." "Kara" He mused, now trying guile to get the raven to show him how to fly properly "A beautiful name, for a beautiful and nice raven lady." "Thought I was annoying SQWAK." "Nope beautiful and nice." "SQUWAK, SQUWAK I don't do nice, SQUWAK." "Yes you do and deep down you know it after all why else would you follow me around? My name is Harry by the way."
In the end, after some light bantering, she finally agreed to teach him to fly. After she had shown him how to access the air currents and when to flap his wing their journey went rather smoothly. That had been two hours ago. Now they were following the wide band of the Thames glittering below them, the sun was shining bright and no cloud anywhere to be seen. Today was his birthday and he was flying on his own wings in his animagus form. The day could be so nice if it wasn't for a certain chatty raven called Kara who was still trailing him. However grateful Harry was that she finally taught him how to use his wings properly, her incessant chatter grated on his nerves to no end. After some time, he simply tuned her out letting his mind wander. How could he understand and talk to her anyway. Was it a normal gift for an animagus to be able to talk with the species he or she is able to transform in to. Deciding to leave it alone for the time being, he considered a far more pressing matter. His scar! How to hide it properly? Now his fringe had chin length and rather framed his face instead of concealing his scar. Maybe he should go for a hair-cut...or use some kind of bandana… "SQUWAK, I think I am going to stay with you wizard-ling, SQWAK, You are interesting SQUWAK, I've decided to be your familiar" "Oh sure" came the rather absentminded reply from Harry. When Kara replied with a rather happy sounding "SQUWAK, Great, SQUWAK!" he wondered briefly what he had just agreed to.
Finally he could make out Big Ben. But where to transform back? He couldn't risk to walk into Diagon Alley unless his scar was masked so he needed to find a safe spot in muggle London to transform. Easier said than done, suddenly he spotted a parking garage on the southern Thames shore near London-bridge station. Perfect, if he was careful, the cars would conceal his presence quite easily. Asking Kara to wait outside he searched for a spot where the video cameras couldn't monitor him and transformed. This time it didn't quite take him an hour. He resumed his human form in a matter of minutes give or take. After leaving the parking garage Kara used his shoulder immediately as resting place, how she recognized him as a human was beyond him. Checking his pocket's he was relieved to find his belongings still there. Boy and raven made there way across London-bridge. If Harry had thought that now that he was human again he wouldn't be able to understand Kara or that by some miracle she would actually decide to shout up, he was sadly mistaken. As he slowly made his way through London, he was subjected to her incessant chatter again. Exasperated he asked her "Do you ever shout up?" "SQUWAK, in my sleep?" Came the cheeky reply but, would miracles never cease, kept her beak shut for a rather long time … for her that is. Five minutes later… "SQUWAK. What are we doing in this stinking nest of humans anyway?" Harry rolled his eyes "I have some matters to attend to here, now please stay quiet." Two hours later Harry reached the leaking cauldron in Charing Cross Road. On his way there he had picked up a pair of jeans, which fit him at last, and a bandanna to cover up his scar. When he entered the Leaky Cauldron every conversation died down as he made his way to the backdoor - leery eyes following him. A shudder ran through his body. What had this world come to. Gone was the carefree attitude of its citizens. As he stepped into Diagon Alley it was almost "business as usual", almost being the operative word here. On the surface the hustle and bustle was as he remembered it from back when he was a carefree firstie, not that he ever had the chance to be carefree. But when he watched just a little bit closer he noticed the suspicious glances, the worried expression that would shadow a parent's face for just a second when looking after their offspring. Moreover he could feel it, the suspicion and anxiety were breathtaking. There were also aurors patrolling the street in pairs. Even Kara seemed to be uncharacteristically quiet. Worse by far were the snippets he gleaned of the people in Diagon Alley either voiced aloud or as stray thoughts. …Have you heard …that Potter boy…escaped justice…cast an unforgivable … next Dark Lord… as bad as You –Know-Who… That bloody ministry is trying to cover something up … bloody fools … who would have thought that a boy … only fifteen cast …You –Know-Who is back …the attacks… nowhere will be safe…Mr Fudge uncovered that…
How the hell, did Fudge find out about him casting an unforgivable. Not for the first time today he ask himself this question without getting a satisfactory answer. Putting that enigma aside for the time being he reached Gringotts, the white building with his bronze doors as impressive as ever. Asking if Kara wanted to come along or rather wanted to stay outside explaining about the carts and vaults Kara rather opted to stay outside the building even if she would have to wait for some time. This conversation earned him again rather odd looks from his fellow witches and wizards.
Entering the one and only wizarding bank Gringotts alone, he made his way to an empty counter. "I would like to visit this vault" Harry passed the goblin his new key, who inspected the key very closely. When everything seemed in order the goblin grinned toothily, showing off his impressive teeth. "Everything is in order Mr Snape or should I say Potter? If you would please follow me,,," Mr Potter? How does he know…actually I don't think I want to know. Harry was lead to the usual Gringotts carts. After more loops and turns as Harry cared to count, they finally reached their destination.
Unlocking the door, Harry entered the room and an hour later… Eric Emrys Snape emerged. When he was back in the foyer he thanked the goblin stonily and left quickly. He didn't notice when Kara landed on his shoulder. However he noticed when he all but run into a dark foreboding presence. Before the man could react, Eric locked their gazes and with a bitingly sharp "Hi dad, fancy meeting you here." resumed his walk to Mr Ollivander's shop, leaving one completely flabbergasted Severus Snape behind.
Nothing had changed. The shop of the old, batty wand maker was still the same as Eric remembered it. Again a tiny bell was tinkling somewhere in the depths of the shop, probably Mr Ollivanders working area. Still the same tiny place he remembered -the same spindly chair Hagrid had sat on all those years ago, boxes with wands were still piled up to the ceiling. The shuffling steps of Mr Ollivander broke his musings as he entered the showroom, holding one of his narrow wand boxes. "Mr Snape, what an honour - finally you are gracing my shop -again." He said mysteriously. "Again? What do you mean by again Mr Ollivander. This is the first time I ever entered your shop. " Eric was getting nervous what if he too beliefs Fudge. "Ah but Mr Potter don't you remember exactly five years ago, when you entered this shop with Hagrid. You were so nervous that maybe no wand would choose you. In the end the twin of Lord Voldemorts wand chose you. Now, you have grown, you have changed, both physically and magically. You need a wand better suited for you now. Your old wand is no longer a perfect match. I might just have the one for you. Here try this one…" He handed the box over to Eric. Reluctantly Eric reached for the box and opened it. It contained the most unusual and beautiful wand Eric had ever seen. The wood was partly black ebony and was intertwined with some kind of red wood. It seemed to be almost as if the wood had actually grown that way for the combination looked absolutely natural to the eye. He somehow felt the moment had come when he would shed his existence as Harry Potter for good and become Eric Emrys Snape. Painfully slow, he grasped the wand and gave it a weigh … he felt complete. There couldn't be any mistake this wand was created for him -it fitted him better than his old wand ever had. Mr Ollivander smiled at his awed and slightly confused expression when Eric felt the strength of his new wand course through his veins. "This wand has the most unusual core and wood combination I have ever worked with. The magical core consists of a phoenix feather, so not Fawkes, and the feather of a magical raven while the wood used for the wand shaft and handle is equally made of ebony wood and the heartwood of the Neem tree." "How much is it?" "This wand is already paid for, it was yours the moment you touched it. James Potter ordered this wand exactly sixteen years ago. It was tailor-made for you after the specifics he gave. Good bye Mr Snape." With these last words he left a speechless Eric standing in his showroom. Somehow, this seemed to be permanent fixture in his life of late, being told mind-boggling secrets and being totally confused. Kara was still unusually quiet as far as he could tell knowing her only about eight hours. Exiting Diagon Alley through the Leaking Cauldron again not noticing the stare of a pair of beady black eyes, Eric in an unobserved moment pulled out his wand, and BANG the violently purple, triple-decker Knight bus appeared. "Grimmauld Place London, Please." He told the conductor Stan Shunpike. Only seconds later, with a loud bang, they reached Grimmauld Place. He wasn't exactly sure the Fidelius charm worked as he remembered the slip of paper last year. Concentrating very hard on the information it had contained, Eric was still slightly surprised when in the spot between Grimmauld Place 13 and 11 number twelve appeared. Feeling very apprehensive, he slowly approached the front door and with a mumbled "here goes nothing", he rang the door.
A/N :
1.) Neem tree: The Neem tree (Latin: Azadirachta indica) mentioned by Ollivander grows in india. In that region it's sometimes known as "the tree of life". Leafs, bark, and fruits are/were used in traditional medicine.
2.) Kara is simply a normal curious young raven who considers our young wizard interesting.