Thanks again for the words of enjoyment of this story's first chapter. I should re-emphasize that there is no guarantee of this story being published as a full work. I am partway through the fifth chapter, though (which shows Harry/Henric's reunion with an amnesic Daniela: oh, the feels!), and if I do post it as a full work, it won't be until later in October. There's two reasons for that: firstly, I want to get as many chapters for this written as possible, and secondly, a Resident Evil crossover would be perfect to post for Halloween.

I also have an interesting backstory for the Duke. I will be revealing it later in the story, should it be published and get to that point, but let's just say it'll be somewhat interesting.

As mentioned in the previous chapter's preamble, I am also working on a crossover with the seventh game. I'm hoping that too will be ready in time for Halloween.


MYCOREINCARNATION

CHAPTER 2:

CONSOLIDATION

"What are you reading, iubit?"

The young man sighed, and showed the red-haired young woman, who peered at the paper. "That, my dear, is one of the most important scientific papers I have read in a long time. These American scientists, Avery, MacLeod, and McCarty, has discovered something Miranda and I have suspected for a long time, that in bacteria at least, deoxyribonucleic acid can transfer genetic characteristics between organisms. In other words, DNA may be what determines whether you are male or female, your skin, hair and eye colour, intelligence, lifespan…of course, there's more research to be done, but…"

The redhead chuckled. "Henric, no wonder you drove Bela and Cassandra away. You spout all these terms we'd be hard-pressed to understand. You and Mother Miranda are geniuses."

"And you're far from stupid. Eccentric, yes, but the best people often are. You love reading in Alcina's library. It's only thanks to me that you're allowed in there. Anyway, Cassandra would rather go hunting, and Bela…well, she's morbidly interested in the darker corners of Alcina's family history. Once upon a time, the Dimitrescus had a notoriety on a par with the Bathorys or the Drăculeşti, though given what I have heard, the atrocities of Hitler and Stalin may outweigh even them. I fear for the world to come, for even if the Nazis are defeated, the world will be forever scarred and changed. And it may happen again. We had hoped the First World War to be the last of its kind, but we are now living through a second. Who's to say a third will not happen? And even if war does not eventuate, there are other Horsemen. The one I fear the most is Pestilence."

"Yeah, you told me. How you saw the Spanish Flu sweep through the village as a child, how you saw your cousin Eva dying, and how it got you into medicine. I want to follow you, but father won't let me leave the village and go to university. He says it isn't my place, that women can't be doctors. I point out Miranda, and he just dismisses me. Says I'm crazy." She scoffed. "Wants me to continue being a maid for Lady Dimitrescu. Alcina and Miranda encourage me, and so do you, so why the hell can't he? He says you're a bad influence. Drunken old bastard…all he cares about is working on Lord Heisenberg's machines, and even Heisenberg treats me better than he does."

"Don't worry. One day, once the war is over, we'll send you to university. You'll be a doctor, I swear it, Dani…"


Harry opened his eyes, and groaned softly to himself. The reminder of what had happened to the woman he loved in his past life didn't help matters. He checked his watch (a mechanical one given to him by the Duke, whom he recognised in hindsight, for use at Hogwarts), and saw that it was three o'clock in the morning.

What an eventful first day it was yesterday. Firstly, it was trying to come to terms with the fact that he had lived two lives, and trying to reconcile the life of a thirty year old Romanian doctor and microbiologist with the life of a teenaged wizard. Thankfully, it didn't take that much: Dr Henric Stan and Harry Potter were somewhat alike in many regards, though Henric was a little amoral, or at least flexible with his morality. Given the ruthlessness of his aunt in his past life, as well as the troubles afflicting Romania in the years up to his death and the fact that he had brought criminals for the newly-transformed Countess Alcina Dimitrescu to feast on, he wasn't surprised. The journal the Duke had given him had been his own.

He knew how he had managed this miracle. The Mutamycete could contain the minds and memories within it, and even if he didn't know exactly how Harry Potter gained a Cadou, he had his suspicions, and that it was the same Cadou that bastard Grindlewald had made off with. His consciousness had slumbered within the Cadou for half a century, including the first thirteen years of his life, but he knew, with utter conviction, that Harry Potter and Henric Stan were one and the same. He decided to keep the name he had been given in this life, though.

Of course, a possible existential crisis and worrying about the particulars of mould-based reincarnation was, surprisingly, the least worse thing about yesterday. Malfoy taunting him over breakfast didn't help, though he was sure the blonde, inbred fuckwit had needed a nappy after his encounter with a Dementor, something George Weasley tentatively confirmed. Harry, however, caught himself making plans to use Draco as a guinea pig in some experiments. As nasty as he was, Draco was still a child, and hadn't done anything but spout racist bullshit. Of course, that would probably change, given time, and Harry was curious to see what the Mutamycete would do to him.

Divination was more annoying than anything, even after they dealt with that idiot knight in the portrait, Sir Cadogan or something. Trelawney seemed more like an ageing hippy than a serious seer, and while that proclamation about the Grim was disturbing, Harry had seen worse in experiments Miranda had performed. True, it did remind him of that massive black dog he had seen shortly before he got the Knight Bus, but he felt it was coincidence at best. He would research the Grim just in case, though.

Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration class had gone down better, especially as McGonagall had debunked Trelawney's prophecy. He was already regretting taking Divination, and he was wondering whether he could transfer to another class. He'd give it another couple of lessons, and then talk to Professor McGonagall if he was still dissatisfied.

At lunch, Harry only half-heartedly participated in the argument between Ron and Hermione about the Grim and Trelawney's predictions. He was concerned about Hermione seeming to take more classes than she seemed to have time for, and he resolved to ask her about that later, when they had spare time. It was bad enough that they were clashing over Ron's ageing rat Scabbers and Hermione's new cat Crookshanks.

And then came Care of Magical Creatures. With his newfound perspective, Harry felt ambivalent about it all. Hagrid was a good soul who didn't mean harm at all. But he lacked perspective, a sense of safety. Given that he had tried to raise a dragon in his hut, had an Acromantula as a pet during his time as a student, and had assigned a textbook that tried to bite their hands off, Harry questioned his ability to be a good teacher. Oh, he was glad for the giant man, but he was wary.

And he was soon proven correct. True, Hagrid laid out very specific instructions to approach Hippogriffs, which should be followed to the letter, but they were also rather dangerous and prideful creatures, and in hindsight, Harry could see that Draco would have caused trouble, inadvertently or not. He wasn't sure whether Draco provoked Buckbeak intentionally or not, but the upshot was Hagrid was now in deep shit.

There was something else bothering him. The adults seemed to be concealing something about Sirius Black, something connected to why Harry was his target. Harry would wait until an opportune moment, and then ask someone outright. McGonagall, perhaps. Hopefully, she would give a straight answer.

Deciding he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, he left the dorms, Invisibility Cloak in tow, and left the Gryffindor Tower. His wanderings soon took him to a familiar girl's toilet, and he opened up the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. And soon, he was back where he battled the shade of Tom Riddle, and the Basilisk he had commanded.

He examined the creature, the biologist in him marvelling at it. But then, he heard someone clearing their throat, and he whirled to find someone unexpected present, sitting on a massive chair that nonetheless seemed to strain under his weight. A table lined with all sorts of goods was placed in front of him. "Well, well, we meet again."

"It's you, isn't it? After all these years?" Harry asked, disbelievingly.

The rotund man smiled, his familiar cherubic features framed by well-groomed blonde hair. "Oh? Then it seems my hunch was correct. Dr Stan, I presume?"

"Dr Livingstone, I presume? Just Harry will do," Harry said, before frowning at the man who was something of a friend in his past life. "And you haven't changed a damn bit, Duke. Just a bit fatter."

The Duke laughed uproariously. "Ah, I have missed you. I had a hunch that you weren't dead for good. Miranda could never find your consciousness within the Megamycete, but I suspected that it slept within the Cadou Grindlewald had purloined."

"Unintentionally. I thought I was dead for good. Then again, I'm not sure I wanted to live in a world without Dani in it. But how the hell did you get in here?"

"Forgive me, but I placed a couple of discreet charms on your journal and your watch," the Duke said. "I've placed charms of my own in Hogwarts over the years, and when I realised you were in a place where you were alone and where the wards did not quite reach…" The Duke spread his arms wide. "Alakazam! Though I must confess to being surprised that Harry Potter, of all people, was my old friend reborn. Perhaps it is kismet. I am sure you have many, many questions, and I will answer them. But first, I have a question of my own."

"Which is?"

"That Basilisk corpse…may I have it?"

"…Sure. I killed it, but…"

"Ah, then I should recompense you. To the winner goes the spoils, and this should be an interesting transaction. The Goblins prize Basilisk meat, the skin is only surpassed by dragonhide in protective gear, and the venom, properly treated, is an ingredient in certain potions. I certainly intend to try the meat myself, assuming it is not too rancid. Still, to think that Harry Potter killed a Basilisk, and possibly the Beast of Salazar Slytherin himself. I heard of the Chamber of Secrets fiasco. My apologies for not helping."

"You couldn't have known it was me," Harry said. "I only awakened my shapeshifting after the Basilisk bit me."

"And you survived?"

"Fawkes, Dumbledore's Phoenix…"

"Ah, Phoenix Tears? Say no more," the Duke said. "So, you must have many questions. Ask away, and I will do my best to answer."

Harry did, indeed, have many questions. And it was difficult, at least at first, to know which one to ask first. Eventually, he decided on one. "The village…how is it? My aunt? Countess Dimitrescu? Lord Heisenberg? Salvatore?"

"…The village has changed surprisingly little since your demise," the Duke said solemnly after a moment's contemplation, lighting up a cigar as he did so. "Your aunt allows only for certain amenities to be brought in, but otherwise, it is mostly isolated from the rest of Romania, more so than it was in your time. She tolerates me bringing in items, mostly for the Four Lords…"

"Four Lords?"

"Ah, yes, she found a fourth, a representative of the Beneviento family. They had, as you know, gently refused her gifts, instead helping her administer the village, but their latest scion, Lady Donna, has accepted the Cadou recently. I daresay you would be a salutary influence on her. In any case, your demise hit the others hard. Miranda even believed you to be a traitor who gave Grindlewald the Cadou. However, I did set her straight. But…something of the light had left that village since then."

Harry grimaced at the vague but portentous words. But he remarked, "The light already went out when those bastards raped and murdered Dani and the others."

The Duke seemed to grimace himself at that, before he said, "In any case, Alcina now feeds vicariously on her own servants. And she is not alone in doing so. She has daughters, adoptive daughters, who share her thirst for blood. Shortly after your demise, Miranda and Alcina experimented on a trio of corpses, using a variant of the Cadou. The Cadou transformed them into sentient swarms of a sort of blowfly, retaining the forms of their former selves, but gaining a desire to consume flesh and blood."

"…Anyone I know?"

The Duke was no longer smiling, and Harry felt a pit of dread form in his stomach. "Their names were Bela…Cassandra…and Daniela."

And Harry stared at him in absolute shock. Denial and anger and horror warred within his very soul. "No…no…Daniela, she…she wouldn't do that, she…"

"Harry…they have no memories of their past lives," the Duke said gently. "They retain some of their character traits, warped and twisted by their death and rebirth, but they remember nothing of their lives as humans, imprinting on Lady Dimitrescu. And Alcina…she was so furious at their deaths, and at your own demise, as she knew Daniela was precious to you, that she hardened her heart, and in turn, hardened those of her new daughters. She thought your mercy and kindness was what killed you. Alcina mourned greatly for you. We all did. You were the heart and soul of that place, and when you were murdered…" The Duke shook his head. "I'm sorry to break such news to you, but I knew you despised people keeping secrets from you."

"Says the man who is coy about why he's immortal," Harry snarked, though this was partly a coping mechanism, to deal with the revelations he had learned. The Duke would never lie like this. Maybe he would tell lies of omission or evade questions, as he often did about his origins, but he had never lied to Henric.

"…Whatever you used to come here," Harry said, "can I use it to go home?"

"No. Not yet. I do, however, have in my possession a Vanishing Cabinet. Some assembly is required, but I am sure I can get it done before the weekend, when your absence will be less noticed. However, in the meantime, I can also help with other things. This place is well-hidden if it's the fabled Chamber of Secrets. Why, I heard of it even in my time at Hogwarts, but I never dreamed I would be in it. I have you to thank for it, though I could do without the dank atmosphere…or the ostentatious statue of Slytherin. If you wish to pick up your research where you left off before Grindlewald's attack…why, I would be willing to supply equipment and materials, for a price. The Basilisk corpse will give you a substantial amount of credit."

Harry looked at the Duke. As mercantile as the obese man was, he had his heart in the right place, and he trusted him. It was no contest. "Okay. But for now, keep my survival secret from Miranda and the others. I want it to be a surprise. And I want them kept off-balance for when I do return."

"But of course. I am the very soul of discretion," the Duke said. "Do you have any other questions? If I know, I will answer."

"…Actually, there is," Harry said. "A few things, actually. Firstly, Dementors: how do I kill them or at least repel them?"

"Dementors are, so the conventional wisdom goes, immortal. You cannot kill them. However, they are repelled by a charm known as the Patronus. Although usually used as a means of messaging between wizards, it can repel Dementors. But as Patronus Charms require a happy memory as a trigger, and Dementors, by their very presence, sap the very happiness from their surroundings, it is rather difficult to cast under such conditions. In addition, I have never been able to learn how to cast one myself. I would ask your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. I've had dealings with Professor Lupin previously."

"Have you?"

"Indeed. He actually knew your parents in this life, but he had a condition that precluded him from looking after you. It is up to him to tell you what that condition is, but needless to say, if it became known someone like him raised the Boy Who Lived, he would have been imprisoned, perhaps executed. A shame, because aside from his condition, he is a fairly decent person."

"He knew my parents? But he didn't say anything."

"The memories were probably painful. Approach him yourself, but discreetly. Give him a chance."

Harry nodded, considering this. Eventually, he asked, "Then what about Sirius Black? Why does everyone seem to think he is after me?"

At this, the Duke's face clouded over. "Hmm. A troubling question indeed. However, I must ask, before I tell you the answer, that you don't go off half-cocked like you did with Grindlewald. I didn't realise it was Grindlewald in disguise until it was too late, or I would have warned you all. And if you die once more, then I'm not sure I could bear losing one of my better friends again."

"I can't promise anything. Only that I'll listen, Duke."

"Very well. I must emphasize that I do not know the full details. However, Sirius Black was also a friend of your parents, specifically your father. Only…he's alleged to have been the one to betray your family's whereabouts to Voldemort."

At this, Harry felt a chill run down his spine. "…What?"

"I don't know the details. However, this is what I do know. The Black family is one of the most notorious in Britain for its adherence to Blood Purity beliefs and their leanings towards dark magic and ritual. A few were rebels against that, and it was thought that Sirius was too. He became fast friends with your father. In fact, betraying your father seemed to be utterly out of character for him, and yet…it is said he was one of the only people to know where your family was in hiding in Godric's Hollow. After your parents' deaths and Voldemort's defeat, Black was caught after apparently causing an explosion that killed a number of Muggles, along with Peter Pettigrew, another friend of your father's."

Harry felt numb inside, albeit with the fires of rage threatening to ignite. This was the secret they were keeping from him? No wonder they were worried he'd go charging off. Even as Harry, he retained a certain quixotic nature, and it was only the Duke's reminder of how he died in his previous life that had him tamping down on his anger.

He latched onto what the Duke said. "You said that betraying my father was completely out of character for him."

"Indeed, and while so many would believe that is due to how covert a spy he was for Voldemort, it does introduce some doubt. I am not saying that he is innocent, but the Aurors are not particularly known for adhering to investigative procedures. True, law enforcement in general can let their preconceptions get the better of them, but Aurors are notorious for leaping to conclusions. I studied the case idly after I heard of Sirius' escape. A number of holes are in the story, and while they don't mean he's innocent, his guilt is not as clear-cut as many would believe. So, we'd better discuss the matter as well as we can. It won't be long before you are missed…"

CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:

So, Harry has learned of what has happened from the Duke. But why is the Duke so familiar with the wizarding world and Hogwarts?

No numbered annotations this time.