By DraconicalPriest
Rating R: Because I like pirates… Arrrrr!
Pairings: Eventually, a long way down the road, someday… HP/SS. Maybe others. I'm very definite on this. Not.
A/N: I'm back from the grave. This is mostly the fault of Fate, whomsoever he/she/it is. Pestered me on each chapter to update, pretty please. Took a while. A LONG while, but it worked. So…apologies to anyone who was actually waiting on this, especially the aforementioned Fate and jaded1, she of the reviews I enjoyed so very much. This was originally an interlude chapter and very short. I didn't even put it in my outline, but I wanted to dwell a bit on this and that, and not just rush right on to Hogwarts.
Thanks also to ReginaLucifer and Megumi Muse. Those reviews are what kept this story from completely leaving my mind, given the change of residence, job, and life I'd been going through.
It took a lot to revamp my outline and personality profile (s) to fit the canon, since I last wrote after the Goblet of Fire. I've managed though, to take the revelations of books 5 and 6, and I think my plot is much sounder now. So expect more. Unlike last time, I know for sure where I'm heading and will get there soon. crosses fingers
Holding the Façade: Chapter 3The next few weeks after the Cover was created were tense ones for the Guardian and The Dark One. Would the new identity pass muster with the Dursley's? Would he function appropriately and protect the rest of the circle as he was planned? However, as they waited on tenterhooks for something to explode into chaos, it gradually became evident that nothing was going to happen. The Dursley's were perfectly happy to ignore the strange occurrences from the past, as long as they were never repeated. And if their nephew seemed a bit dimmer, and oddly cheerful for a child in his circumstance, that fact was never remarked upon. If he couldn't remember things sometimes, it was okay. Or if it wasn't okay, it was at least understandable, since the little freak was obviously a bit of an idiot as well.
As things settled down in the Dursley household, they also calmed somewhat inside the Circle. The Guardian and his little ones were content in the Green Place beside the Circle. The Dark One withdrew again to experiment with all the tricks he'd used in his endeavors to create the cover. Lavian kept his/her/its Secrets.
Whenever one of the circle was restless and needed to see Out, they could press up against the outside world from behind the comforting protection of the Cover. Like children peering through a frosted glass window, they could see, could act to some extent, but they were not seen. They were never allowed to act to the point of discovery. And Harry survived in this manner. Fractured, divided, and destroyed to the extent which they were… they still coped and worked surviving into a stable routine.
Years passed in this unsteady state. A few more identities were born and developed through necessity. After all, Vernon Dursley wasn't ever gentle with Harry, and the Circle had already found their strength in division, not endurance. Some of the children in Guardian's protection faded and left him. Some transformed or split, creating new children to fill the Circle.
One of the most shining of the new ones was Bird. Born when Harry was ten years old, he was the first of them born from joy…
The rain had whirled into Little Whinging like a possessed dervish. It flurried and settled impatiently, never falling for very long in one spot, only pausing to hurl it's staccato drumbeats like weapons against the houses and drenched backyards. Apparently the best words the weathercasters could find to describe it was "scattered showers possible today", which decidedly understated the case. This rain was as destructive and antsy as a two-year old on a double espresso.
Harry had been watching the roiling sky all morning. He was perched on a stool by the kitchen window, idly pressing his hand against the cool glass every so often and then scrubbing little squiggles in the fogged-up outline. Aunt Petunia had conscripted him for kitchen duty at breakfast, but that was now several hours ago and the Dursley's had just left to go out to lunch with an important client of Uncle Vernon's. They were going to a new French restaurant which Aunt Petunia had read about in one of her magazines. Evidently the chef was world famous, and the magazine had given his new business five stars. After lunch they'd planned to go to the mall and celebrate the new business with a little shopping spree for Duddleykins.
Of course, Harry couldn't go, as his freakishness might upset the client. Luckily for him, Mrs. Figg had gone on vacation, so the Dursley's had left him at the house, along with many dire warning of what they'd do to him if they got home and found a mess of any sort.
For a while now he'd been tempted to play with some of Dudley's toys. There was an almost new scooter in the second bedroom which only had the plastic grips on the handlebars broken. Dudley had thrown it at the garage door in a tantrum, and then when the handles broke he complained that the cracks pinched his hands. The scooter had been tossed on the junk heap in the second bedroom, and Petunia had gone out to buy another one very quickly, with rubber grips that wouldn't hurt her precious Duddleykins. Dudley never rode more than five minutes on either one, but Harry had gazed at them ardently. He could almost imagine the way it would feel to ride one, with the wind whipping his hair around his face, and the sidewalk zooming by underneath him.
He imagined that if he just rode the scooter a little bit, it might take off and fly, like that motorcycle he sometimes dreamed about. He be up there in the rain and the spitting drops and mistiness around the ground would keep anyone from looking up. He could fly for hours and hours! In his mind he could see the scooter, which was definitely taking on godlike qualities. It shone like a diamond, and was sleeker and more streamlined than any eagle. The red paint was more vivid than Petunia's prize roses, and not all scratched and covered with various logos. He could see himself just zipping down the pavement, the wheels hissing as they sliced through the water on the macadam, then silent as he lifted off and soared away.
"Well, why don't I?" He suddenly mused aloud, his eyes beginning to twinkle mischievously. "I could just go for a bit. I'd be back before Aunt and Uncle. It wouldn't harm anyone. I'd just go down the block a bit and back up, just a very little ways." He was breathless and rather scared at the temerity of what he was about to attempt, but he couldn't find any objection that made enough sense to stop him. So he uncurled from the window seat, glanced around the kitchen nervously, and snuck up the stairs to Dudley's second bedroom. He'd organized it not too long ago, when Aunt Petunia got fed up with the mess in there, and so he knew exactly where that scooter was now. He quickly retrieved it from in front of the closet where the newest present, a shiny road bike with a twisted back tire, was displayed as well as the very old tricycle with the broken seat, and wheeled it out of the room. It was a struggle to keep the scooter from knocking into the banister or the steps as he came down the stairs, but he managed. In fact he managed to get it all the way to the front door before he thought again.
Like an echo of his aunt Petunia he whispered in sudden horror, "What if the neighbors see!" But on this gray day, several of the children of the Circle were pressed up against the Cover in boredom, and their curiosity and excitement overcame the programmed caution of the Cover. The children won, and Harry was soon zipping down the pavement. The thought had certainly registered in the Circle though, and all the neighbors saw was yet more mist and spitting rain, courtesy of the Dark One.
Wow! It felt just like he'd imagined! The wind was so fast, and the rain spitting down wasn't really cold, but more like the hard, fast, lukewarm shower in the upstairs bathroom. He was never allowed any truly hot water, to save on the gas bills of course, and so the hard rain was as refreshing to him as his relaxing start to a new day.
Harry tilted his head up and shrieked in pure joy. This flying feeling, this pure joy was the best thing he'd ever experienced. Simply the best, ever! While the scooter never left the ground, it still sped along, pushed by the wind and sliding slick along the sidewalk. He was lost in the sensations, in the pleasure of the speed, of the wind howling in his ears, and rain beating against his head and chest. He was dizzy with joy and played on the scooter until he was completely exhausted and soaked through from his head to his soggy trainers.
It was almost two hours later when the Cover regained his head and trudged back to the garage with the scooter. The Dursley's never spent more than a few hours at the mall. He'd have to get everything cleaned up before they were back. He sensibly took several hand towels from the pile left for clean-up after gardening and wiped himself down as well as possible so he wouldn't drip too much on his way through the house.
As Harry went through the motions of taking his clothes and towels to the dryer, himself to the bathroom for another towel to completely dry off, and back to the garage to clean up the scooter and wipe away any evidence of his fun, the Circle was welcoming in a new member. The sturdy young boy, looking surprisingly like the Cover, but well fed and tan, with laugh lines all over, ran around in circles in the Green Place beside the Circle, bounced around Guardian and swooped up a couple of the other young children into a game of tag.
Guardian watched him go with a complacent smile flitting over his face. "Bird," he whispered, "He'll be Bird. He is free and cheerful, like a lark in the morning. I could just see him fly."
Beside him, the Dark One grunted in amusement at the man's sentiment. I'm sure you can. In fact, I'm sure you will, in about a year. He is ten now, isn't he?>
"Yes, of course," replied Guardian, "but what does that have to do with anything? We're not going to be leaving here until we're at least sixteen and legal to support ourselves. What's so special about eleven?"
But no matter how he asked, or tried to trick the Dark One into answering, he got only laughter as a reply. Eventually Guardian gave up in a huff, and just watched Bird lead some of his childlings in some weird game up in the Green Place. At least they seem to be having fun he thought, and settled back with the younger ones as Bird played and the Cover tidied the house, awaiting the Dursley's return.
The Dark One also settled down into his place, and once again drew a veil of shadows around him as he reflected on the changes he knew would be coming. And coming faster than any one else in the Circle knew.