Dyslexia: Language disability. I have a beta and proofread, yet things still fall through the cracks because we are imperfect beings: so kindly, eat your fucking cake and enjoy the free content. Also, pettiness gets annoying. Misspelling imaginary words? Really, you're gonna lecture me about that? I listened to the audiobooks and you're reading fanfiction.

I can take a critique but I don't have endless patience for bullshit for a hobby ;)

Chapter 4 - Challenges to the Galaxy

After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harris hadn't left the Hogwarts grounds. He had stayed with Madame Pomfrey and helped her in what ways he could for the people and children who could not be moved to St. Mungo's.

Running for your life was scary.

Losing your loved ones was breaking.

Fighting took away everything you were and remade who you had been.

But nothing compared to picking up the pieces afterwards.

Those days, those weeks after the final battle. The helplessness, the brokenness.

The smells and morbid facts of the human body.

Hermione and Ron hadn't stayed; in fact, aside from Luna, none of his friends had stayed with him.

Harry hadn't blamed them, especially not when the pain and horror and rage from the parents, from the victims, was directed directly at him. No matter how illogical those despair filled words had been, they had scarred him deeper than he had ever admitted to anyone.

It's your fault he targeted the school.

Why couldn't you have defeated him sooner!?

This is your fault!

You did this!

Get away from my daughter, you freak!

Luna alone had seen this, had been at his side, and sometimes, he thought it had poisoned him against her.

Luna had always been able to see through him, and after those weeks…

It had been so raw, he had been so raw.

Of course, she had always been there for him, his best friend in the end, more so than perhaps Ron or Hermione had ever been.

Luna had been the first to tell him to slow down with Gin, that they weren't the fairest match for each other because they didn't know each other well enough.

But Harris had rushed into marriage with Gin, had been so ready to put the old chapter of his life behind, to start living, to start a family.

But of course, Luna had been right. And though they had remained, Harris knew he had passed up on something that might have been truly beautiful with Luna Lovegood.

Harris, though, had always believed that Luna needed someone better, better than him.

It was the same self-sabotaging and lack of self-respect that had caused most of the woes of his later life.

That led him to this moment now with Bellatrix Goddess-damned Lestrange completely dependent on his care. A situation that was dredging up those long suppressed memories of his time as Madame Pomfrey's assistant.

She had told him that he would have made a good healer.

Harris knew his soul would have died if he had been forced to see an endless stream of suffering, even if he could help them.

Harris took in a steadying breath as he put the tip of his wand to Bella's forearm.

Harris had regained the Elder Wand after one of his students had broken his Holly wand, and had decided to destroy it then, his current wand he gotten from a young wand maker.

Exhaling sharply, he focused his mind at the task at hand.

He had done this thrice before, once for Draco at Narcissa's behest, once for Theo, and once for Blaise.

Both Theo and Blaise had been forced to take the Death Eater marks by Friel Nott mere days before the Battle of Hogwarts.

Harris had never asked them the specifics, merely explained how much the countercurse would hurt.

Worse than the Cruciatus Curse, he had been told, only localized in the arm.

Harris had done his best to assure Bella was comfortable, in a warm bath with salts, an attempt to ease some of the pain that a decade of sleeping on cold, rugged stones had caused. With so little meat on her body that her white skin was a patchwork of bruises.

Still asleep even after a full three days of freedom, she had hardly stirred. The moments she did wake she would open her eyes, staring into nothing, let out a long sigh, and snuggle back into bed.

Harris didn't blame her, and if he was honest, cleaning and feeding her himself was easier than dealing with whoever ended up waking up.

He knew Andromeda's potion worked, he just didn't know how much of Bella was insanity or conditioning. The potion could only fix the physicality of the former.

It couldn't take away all the memories of her abuse nor the reality of her actions.

Harris sighed, berating himself for delaying. He was still debating having used a potion rather than 'borrowing' anaesthesia from a muggle hospital but he wasn't a doctor, and the potion he used was mild because he hadn't wanted to risk the countercurse having extreme side-effects, trapping her in an inescapable nightmare. After all, it hadn't exactly been tested on all that many people.

So, taking in another breath, he held her wrist gently, but firmly as he spoke the counter curse, unweaving the ink from her skin.

Her body twitched, her face, all cheekbones and white skin wrinkled with pain.

This curse took about an hour, and Harris split his focus, luring the curse from her personal aura and flesh to himself.

Bella's body tensed as the pain sunk in, and Harris began speaking to her like he might a skittish hippogryph.

Hermoine considered it incredibly unhealthy when he did this, so far, Harris was the only one to perform this spell without having it rebound.

Harris had refrained from explaining that he still felt a hole in his own aura from where Voldemort's soul had leached into him.

He was still convinced that the damage to his spiritual self had begun in fifth year, and further exploited by Snape. Whatever the man's intentions had been, the end result was leaving him mentally weak.

Harris had been careful to ask Harry about the pain in his scar and of recurring dreams through letters with Hedwig.

Harry had written back that the pain was sometimes severe but no dreams.

Considering Harris had destroyed the prophecy in the beginning of the summer, the latter was not surprising but he still didn't trust Mr. Noseless.

Only, Harris had not the slightest idea of how to get rid of the parasite inside of Harry.

Aside from killing him, which wasn't an option.

He had to travel outside of the country to find books on the topic of soul magic, but so far, he had no leads.

Yet Harris was not without hope, even if he had to offer himself up as a host he would.

As he observed this countercurse, he thought of how he might adapt this or something like this to unbind the parasite from Harry.

Maybe if he got a hold of Nagini, he could do a practice run. Because if he failed with the snake, his intention, in the end, was to kill her.

Bella thrashed in the tub, and Harris spoke with more assertion, "Shhh, Bella, you are safe, it will be over soon, you are safe."

She let out a whimper, pulling back from him slightly. He was careful to keep hold of her arm.

"You're safe, Cissa is here, you're safe," he said over and over again in variation as he led the cursed ink down her forearm.

He brushed aside those remembered horrors as best he could as he drew the poison toward the gaping hole in his soul that beckoned to the Dark Arts like a field of cat grass to a horde of kittens.

When the curse was through, the ebony ink floated above his wand, an undulating snake from the laughing skull.

Harris ignited fire from his wand, a fire that burned white, incinerating even the ash of the ink.

"Memento Mori, bastard," Harris snarled.

Remember all things die, it was a truth he held close to his heart. Even when all the evils in the world seemed overwhelming, he reminded himself that even his enemies would die one day.

It was something he told himself when the nightmares got bad, when Voldemort, Pettiegrew, Crouch, and… Bellatrix damned Lestrange plagued him.

They were dead, he had told himself, dead and gone despite everything Voldemort had done to prevent it.

But Andromeda Tonks had unravelled the universe, had brought the dead back to life, or rather, altered their destinies.

He had known when he saw himself, preventing Cedric from grabbing the cup, that this wasn't the type of time travel that governed the time turners.

Because he didn't remember these changes and Harry had seen him yet this world kept turning, even if his own was little more than memory.

He also knew what he felt when Andromeda had killed herself to enact this curse, this ancient bit of archaic magic that he could spend a lifetime searching for and never find the answer to, he had felt the future unknit, the blackness consuming everything.

There was no future for Harris to return to, there was very likely no way to reverse this, and despite himself, Harris wouldn't be able to let the world unfold as it had if he could stop it.

If you could go back, if you could save Sirius and face Voldemort as an adult, fight the war as you are now, would you?

Harris had never understood, not really, the sentiment of no hate was stronger than where there had once been love.

He hadn't hated his ex-wife, not even after all the shit she'd done to him and the kids, but now?

Harris lifted Bellatrix's limp body out of the tub, still more skeleton than woman, and he felt true loathing.

Not, oddly for the woman in his arms, who was more patient than person, but for the woman, the woman he had given his heart and life to.

He hated Andromeda Tonks, hated what she had done to him, and hated that despite the betrayal, he still mourned her death, the death of the life they had shared together.

Of the years they had to grow old with each other, of watching their grandchildren grow, and perhaps their great grandchildren, now lost to the ethos.

He laid Bella on the bed and waved his wand drying her off and dressing her in a soft cotton nightgown.

He promised himself he would give Bella a chance, that he would shelve his past nightmares of her to give her that chance.

Besides, Voldemort and Andromeda had reserved the seating for his disdain.

Despite the fact that he still loved her, would always love her.

He hoped this world's Andromeda well, hoped Ted and Nymphadora lived long and happy lives, that this Andromeda would be unbroken and happy.

Harris also hoped never to meet her again.

Harry regretted the summer ending, however, he had never had such high hopes for the school year.

This year was going to be better than all the rest. The first time Sirius showed up in public was to bring Harry to the station. Most people gave them a wide birthe, but Harry didn't care.

Someone was at the platform with him.

Actually, Remus was here too, along with Kingsley Shacklebolt, a guard to ensure nothing happened on the platform.

Harry was caught between excitement for the new year and homesickness for Grimmauld Place, which Sirius, Remus, and he had gone to great lengths to redecorate. The place was positively inviting, much to Kreacher's horror.

Although, the old house-elf seemed a lot happier now, ever since Mr. Black had talked to him.

That's what Sirius and he had started calling him, Harry because it felt strange saying a name so similar to his when the man already looked like him, and Sirius because he said his father would have loathed this oldest son taking his place when he had gone to such lengths to hide him.

Harry couldn't imagine what the man's life must have been like, he hadn't even been allowed to attend Hogwarts.

"Get into loads of trouble," Sirius told him as they came to the train.

Remus rolled his eyes, "Do try to study this year, Harry, your OWLs are coming up and the better you do, the more opportunities you will have in your future."

Harry frowned, "I don't even know what I want to do."

Kingsley smiled at him, "You could always become an Auror."

"Or become a Quidditch star!" Sirius enthused.

Remus shook his head, "You don't have to decide now, start small, think of what types of jobs you would like and then what fields cover the most of those jobs. Then you don't have to decide what you want to be."

Sirius's face sobered and he put a hand on his shoulder, "I am the last person who should say anything about waving family legacy around. But remember, Harry, we are quite well off, whatever you want to be, don't consider what salary you could or couldn't make. Pick what you're passionate about, think about what will make you happy. And if you want to change careers in the future, it won't be too late. Don't fear, make dreams."

Harry hugged him, his heart swelling, "I love you, Sirius."

Sirius hugged him back fiercely, "Me too, Harry, me too."

As they parted, a cold voice addressed Sirius, "Cousin."

Sirius turned to the regal Mrs. Malfoy with exaggerated surprise, "Cousin?" He made a show of looking around. "Oh!" he exclaimed, "you're talking to me? Tell me, Cissa, when is the last time you claimed me as kin?"

Harry watched Mrs. Malfoy's eyes flick as if she caught herself from rolling her eyes. "I saw your trial, it's nice to see you claim your own name. It seems I am not the only one considering unlocking the doors."

Sirius's expression twisted, "They voted for me because of Harris, not because anyone wants me in the bloodline. I'm surprised you would be ready to accept a bastard child into the family."

Mrs. Malfoy raised an amused brow, "Our mothers were evil, I do not blame Uncle Orion for hiding a child from that woman's inevitable wrath."

Sirius shuddered but narrowed his eyes, "I've never heard you speak badly about them."

"We haven't spoken since we were children, Siri. We are adults now, and the war is over."

"Is it?" Sirius asked.

She cocked her hip, her blonde hair that was partially unbound spilled over her shoulder, "I am offering you an olive branch, you brat. We need not be enemies."

"And what does dear Lucy think about that?" Sirius challenged.

Harry, Remus, and Kingsley were watching this discussion like a tennis match.

Harry flinched at the arctic expression on Mrs. Malfoy's face, "My husband does not own me."

Harry had the distinct impression that Mr. Malfoy and Mrs. Malfoy hadn't had a good summer.

But he supposed he wouldn't have either if he had had to entertain Voldemort.

Draco joined them then, "Mother, I've-

"Draco, do be good to your cousin this year."

Draco frowned at her in confusion, then looked around and spotted them and all and gaped at Harry, "Mum, you can't be-"

Mrs. Malfoy put an elegant hand on her son's shoulder and Draco swallowed a yelp, his own expression going icy, "Fine, Potter let's go."

Harry didn't move, "We aren't cousins."

Sirius patted Harry on the back, "You're the new Heir of House Black, you'll find many 'cousins' this year. Feel free to snub them, that's what I did."

"Which got him sent to Azkaban without a trial because he was a Black in name only," Mrs. Malfoy said, "I suggest you, Mr. Potter, that if not friends, then by learning to cultivate friendly relations with the other pureblood houses, you will find more doors open to you in the future."

"She's not wrong," Kingsley advised, "You can even be kind to people whose philosophies you don't agree with."

Harry blinked at the tall imposing man who had just told him to be kind to Death Eaters' kids.

Sirius ruffled his hair, "You'll figure it out, kid, just be yourself."

Draco allowed his mother to kiss his cheek, before wishing her farewell before saying again, "Come on, Potter, we need to go."

The train's whistle emphasized his point.

Harry gave first Remus then a final hug to Sirius before following Draco Malfoy, of all people, onto the train.

Harry waved from the hall window as the train set off, Sirius waved to him madly until the train pulled out from sight.

"You done?" Draco asked caustically.

"You aren't really going to be nice to me, are you?" Harry asked.

Draco crossed his arms, "My mother was a Black and she has missed having family, my father and his father didn't have any siblings, I'm not going to ruin this for her. But by all means, walk off in a huff."

Harry cocked his head, "No, I don't think I will. I want to see how long you can keep this up."

Ron was going to have an aneurysm from laughing when he heard this.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Come on, we can find a compartment and then I have to go find the other prefects."

"Oh, you got the badge too then?" Harry asked, not knowing why he didn't feel more bitter about that. He guessed it was hard to be bitter when he felt this happy. Honestly, his life had never been better, and even Malfoy couldn't ruin that. "Congratulations."

Draco gave him a sideways look over his shoulder but said, "Thanks. I'm guessing you did too then."

"Nope, Ron and Hermione."

Draco snorted, "Oh, I'm sure that will work out well. Because Weasley is such a role follower."

"Says the guy who challenged me to a duel in our first year after curfew," Harry retorted, "and then there was that whole dementor thing, and-"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, but this year is going to be different."

"Why? Because we're cousins now, or because Voldemort is back?"

Draco spun on him, "Watch what you say," he lowered his voice to a bare whisper, "there was a heavy price to pay for losing the war, don't presume to know what we all went through."

"Likewise," Harry retorted, "And don't think just because I'm Heir to House Black now that I won't do everything I can to stop your Dark Lord."

Something like fear chased through Draco's pale eyes, and he warned, "Just remember what you stand to lose, Potter."

"I remember my mother," Harry said back just as quietly, "I will never forget what I have lost. It's you who doesn't realize that that monster will kill and torture his own just as easily as his foes. He only cares about two things, himself and power."

Draco swallowed and looked like he wanted to hurl insults but the compartment door opened, and Blaise Zabini poked his head out, "In here, numbskulls, if you're going to talk about family business."

Draco let out a sigh, then gestured for Harry to go in ahead of him. Harry hesitated, looking over Blaise's shoulder to see Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass, and Tracey Davis. But aside from a few sneers and sniggers, Harry couldn't remember having any specific incidents, and thought, what the hell, Hermione had already said they wouldn't be able to share a compartment for long.

Theodore scootted to the other side, and Daphne said, "Beautiful owl."

Harry smiled as he took his seat, "Thanks, she's the best."

Hedwig preened and gave a happy hoot.

Draco put his luggage up, "Right, see you all around."

There was an awkward silence as Blaise sat on the other side of him.

Theodore asked, "What does the Dark Lord look like now?"

Harry raised his brow, "You believe Dumbledore?"

"His father is a Death Eater," Daphne said coldly.

"Anything you can tell us would be helpful," Tracey said, "Slytherin House was the first to fall under his control."

"Tracey is muggleborn," Blaise explained, "And the press has been useless. Fudge is a moron for not realizing how much he is helping their side by roasting Dumbledore."

"Wait, so you don't support him?"

Theodore glared daggers at Harry who held up his hands, "Just a question."

Theodore growled, "We are Slytherins, we will do whatever it takes to keep ourselves and families alive."

Harry stared at him, weighing him.

Harry had been meant to be sorted into Slytherin, and as much as he didn't like to think the worst of Ron, Ron could be really harsh on Slytherins.

Sirius said that his cousin Andromeda had been sorted into Slytherin and not been half bad.

Harry had made a resolution with himself, that this year would be different.

How different would his life be if the Slytherins didn't outright hate him?

So he asked, "What do you want to know?"

"What the hell happened at the Final Task?" Blaise asked.

"No," Tracey interrupted, "start at the lake. We didn't see anything. Honestly, for all the hype, it was a pretty boring tournament, they should have ended with the dragons."

That made Harry laugh, and he found himself retelling his stories to people who didn't hero-worship him, they were just peers who wanted to hear a good story and about a war brewing that could very well change all of their futures.

Harry had just gotten to the point where Harris rescued him, when Theodore, or Theo as everyone else called him, "What? Wait, you're telling me that random guy in the stands traded spells with Voldemort unscathed?"

Harry nodded, "He blocked the Killing Curse, multiple times." Sharing stories about how epic someone else was in his family made him feel all types proud.

Maybe Mrs. Malfoy and Kingsley were right.

"That's impossible," Daphne said, "There is no spell that can do that."

Harry smiled, "He used transfiguration and lifting spells to pull physical obstacles in the way."

A long silence followed.

Blaise rubbed his eyes, "That's so simple."

"I'm offended that no one had the imagination to come up with that," Daphne declared, "I'm disappointed I didn't come up with it."

"To everyone's credit," Harry said, "it did make a ton of shooting rock debri, but Mr. Black is nifty with defence spells. I've never seen anyone move as fast as him."

A knock came on the door then.

"Don't answer it," Theo said, but Tracey had already leaned over to undo the latch.

A red-haired head poked in and Ron's face lit up as he spotted Harry, then fell into confusion as he saw who else was with him.

His face contorted into rage, "What the bloody hell are you doing here, Harry?"

Harry felt himself flush at Ron's rude behaviour when everyone else had been so civil, if not outright friendly with him.

It made his tone sharp as he replied, "Hi, Ron, nice to see you too."

Ron scowled at him, and nearly spat, "Slytherins? Really?"

Harry glared back, finding he didn't like Ron being a prejudicious butt anymore than he liked it from Draco.

"Yeah," Harry said, "Slytherins, you know, one fourth of the school's population."

"But they are Slytherins ," Ron intoned.

Harry was getting exasperated now, "Do you even hear yourself? You're being rude, Ron."

" I'm being rude?" Ron asked, "When you're the one who ditched your friends to sit with a bunch of snakes!?" He pointed at Theo, "He's a Death Eater."

Theo didn't raise his wand at the prefect, he did however flip Ron the bird.

Ron's face went bright red, and Harry said the first thing that came to his mind before this could escalate, "First off, Theo isn't a Death Eater and we were just talking, Ron. Let it go."

"Let it go!?" Ron blustered, "Slytherins are-"

Harry felt everyone in the compartment, and read death in Blaise's dark eyes, and Harry blurted a long kept secret, "I was almost sorted into Slytherin."

Ron froze, the blood draining from his face, he opened his mouth to say something then closed it.

"Shove off, Weasel," Draco's voice said as he shouldered his way past the redhead and took a seat beside Tracey.

Ron looked lost for a moment, staring at them all awkwardly before his face darkened and he met Harry's gaze and spat, "Traitor."

Then slammed the door shut behind him.

Harry let out a low oath.

Merlin help him, he had just wanted to make a good start to the year.

Which had just backfired spectacularly.

"Why weren't you sorted into Slytherin?" Tracey asked.

Draco did a double take, "Wait, what? What did I miss?"

Harry jabbed a thumb at the blonde boy, "Cause of him. I told the Hat I didn't want to be sorted into the same house as that git."

Blaise laughed and Daphne nodded sagely, "Fair enough."

Draco grumbled, "This is why I'm not friends with you lot."

"Right back at you, fuzzhead," Theo said with a smirk.

"Why did the Hat want to put you in Slytherin?" Tracy asked.

"It said I could be great and Slytherin would help me on the way to greatness. But I never wanted to be famous," Harry said.

Draco made a derisive sound, "Yeah, right, I totally believe that."

Harry shrugged, "Malfoy, I don't really care what you believe. But I'm telling you that I never wanted to be famous, I would have been perfectly happy just being a normal student who was good quidditch."

"Right," Draco drawled, "and I'm sure your guardians told you all sorts of outrageous-"

"My guardians told me my parents were drunkards who got themselves killed and nearly me, while driving and drinking." He pointed to the scar, "I thought this was from the wreck that killed them. It wasn't until Hagrid I even knew magic was real."

"What about the accidental magic?" Theo asked.

"They punished me for misbehaving me and calling me a freak."

They all stared at him and Harry wondered why he was telling them this when he had never told this to anyone, not explicitly to even Ron and Hermione.

Maybe because they had never asked.

Ron had assumed he knew him, and only learned to hate the Dursleys because Harry so clearly did and Hermione thought she knew him from all those stupid books published about him.

"Stupid muggles," Theo said finally.

Harry shrugged, "Prejudicious people can be horrid with or without magic."

No one had anything to say about that.

"Anybody want to play wizarding sabacc?" Daphne asked, breaking the silence.

"What's that?" Harry asked.

Blaise chuckled, "Oh, Potter, we have so much to teach you."

oOo

By the time Harry caught up to Hermione, it was in the Great Hall.

He took his seat beside her and Ron was on the literally other end of the table.

"Where have you been?" Hermione hissed at him, "And what's wrong with Ron? He hasn't said a word after saying had found you."

Harry sighed then shook his head, "He let his big mouth get away with him, I'll explain later. He's just being melodramatic."

Hermoine gave him a wary look, and Harry wondered whose side she would pick this year.

And then Harry sighed, why did there always have to be sides? Why couldn't they just be kids and enjoy life?

Harry didn't pay much attention to Dumbledore this time around, having a bit more than mixed feelings about the man now.

The Order of the Phoenix still respected the man, even McGonagall, who had wrote Harry a long apology letter that had meant more to him than he could have ever imagined.

To have an adult he knew and respected acknowledge that his life with the Dursleys wasn't okay was like punching a hole in the resentments he had been building up over the years. Everyone else's reactions had just added fuel to the fire because they hadn't done anything to free him.

But knowing that if he had gone to McGonagall instead of Dumbledore things would have been different.

Slowly but surely, Harry had a growing list of adults he could go to if things got bad again. People he was beginning to believe he could trust.

It was like a thousand worries and fears had been lifted from his shoulder.

The new DADA professor, a toad-like lady dressed in pink, interrupted Dumbledore.

Harry very quickly tuned out the obviously rehearsed speech.

He let his eyes wander the hall, Ron was deliberately not looking at him, the Weasley twins had their heads pressed together in conspiratorial mischief, and Ginny was staring at him, quickly whipping her gaze away when he spotted her.

Harry looked beyond to the Slytherin table, who, aside from the younger students, were all frowning or scowling at the new DADA.

Harry supposed he should be paying attention if they all looked that concerned, but figured Hermione would repeat the damn thing back to him verbatim during the meal and later that night.

Instead, his attention snagged on Cho Chang who smiled at him.

He smiled back, but his attention was diverted by a girl with white blonde hair making a string of bottle caps float between her hands.

She wasn't holding her wand.

Wandless magic?

The girl with big blue luminous eyes that were captivating even across the space between him.

She waved to him, the bottle caps orbiting her hand like a ring of Saturn or Neptune, and he gave a small wave back along with a true smile.

He wondered if he could get her to teach him how to do that.

The speech ended, apparently, for a few people clapped. Harry didn't bother, and Hermione tugged on his sleeve as Dumbledore announced dinner was served.

Hermione asked, "Harry, did you hear what that woman said?"

He turned to her, "No? I figured you would relate anything of interest."

She gave him an exacerbated sigh, "Really, Harry?"

He shrugged, "Come on, Hermione, how bad could it be? I really doubt Dumbledore would let a second Death Eater teach in consecutive years."

She sighed, "When will you learn to never ask questions like that?"

He smiled, "I don't know, call it positive thinking. Really, what's the worse that could happen?"

But Harry looked up at the head table and some warning bell blared in his head as Dolores Umbridge focused the full weight of her beady eyes on him.

He suddenly regretted his word choices, feeling as if it was a challenge to the galaxy.

AN: Thoughts, feedback, or orcas, please?