On the Other Side of the Coin: Harry Potter and the Garden of Stone

~o~

Chapter 1 – A new beginning

He appeared next to an ancient oak like a soundless shadow, hidden in the penumbra of the dying day. Dusk was settling as cold November air rustled through treetops draped with lifeless leaves. Light faded quickly into obscurity. He stepped forward. He could feel it in his bones. The prophecy. The magic. Both surging through his body, through his veins, through his blood like a torrent of might. No one would ever be able to comprehend it as deeply, as completely, as he did. Nothing could ever stop him. Not after tonight.

The crescent moon illuminated his path into the darkness that crept up across the sky, and would bear lone witness to his destiny. The village seemed deserted. As if the muggles that befouled this place shied away from him. He almost wished they would not. His fingers inched towards his wand, but he knew that killing them would not be wise. They would find their true place soon enough. He passed rows of insignificant houses belonging to insignificant beings. And then, there it was.

A joyless smile appeared on Lord Voldemort's face when his eyes set on the tiny cottage. He could see them. How foolish they were, to put their faith in a friend. The mudblood was sitting on the couch and singing the baby in the crib to sleep. Her husband entered the room. For a fraction of a second, Lord Voldemort thought James Potter might see him, but then he turned away to speak to his wife. She stopped singing and followed him out of the room.

In the centre of the small living room stood the crib, all alone. The fidelius charm had been rendered useless and in their deluded trust, the Potters had dared to leave their oh-so-precious child unprotected.

With a flick of his wand, the front door creaked open. Silence. It was so easy. They did not even have detector charms. The distinct feeling of superiority rushed through Voldemort's body. He may have resented them for underestimating him, but in the end, all he needed was a dead baby Potter. It didn´t matter how it came by, the only thing that mattered was that he would have to do it. Harry Potter would die by his hand and with the child's death he would eliminate this last threat on his path to an immortal life. On his path to dominance over muggles and wizards alike. On his path to unique glory.

He entered the deserted living room and felt the magic inside him tingle. Another few steps and he reached the crib. Pointing his wand directly at it, he leaned forward, the killing curse on his lips.

"Avada Kedav –" Lord Voldemort stopped. He could feel it. His hand outstretched, just a few inches away from the crib, he felt the small tingling feeling of residue magic. Powerful magic.

He slashed his wand up and turned around as lightning erupted all around him.

~o~

Almost ten years had passed after that fateful night, Harry Potter had grown into a young boy with messy, black hair, an oval face, and a slender nose on top of which sat a pair of spectacles. Behind those spectacles brilliant green eyes shone brightly with curiosity. He currently sat crouched down inside the cupboard under the stairs, a position that made him look only scrawnier than usual. Intent on eavesdropping on the conversation in the kitchen, he pressed his ears against the cupboard door and listened carefully. Through a crack, he could see the corridor and he could hear them argue in soft voices.

"He's not normal!"

"But he ought to be, and at school..."

"I won't have him-"

A loud bang resounded from the entrance.

Harry startled and skidded towards the back of the cupboard, silent like a lamb. Someone knocked again. Then, the main door opened and shut.

"Uh-hello? Someone here?"

A shock of unruly jet-black hair appeared in the kitchen doorway.

"We'll be there in a second. Harry is in this room, if you want company." James Potter closed the door and, in his cupboard, Harry held his breath. Sirius' footsteps seemed to move upstairs. He could distinctly hear the creaking of the second step. He waited a few seconds, and then opened the cupboard door as silently as possible. There was nobody to be seen. Only the empty hallway. He tiptoed forward, aiming for the living room. If he reached it, he could pretend to have been there the whole time. He arrived at the door, gripped the handle, but –

"What did I make you promise last time?"

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, squinted his eyes and sighed. "To stop eavesdropping."

He turned around to face his godfather. Sirius was a good-looking man. He was lean, with ear-long hair and a grin plastered on his face. At least usually. Right now, he looked grim and Harry did not like it.

"Or?" he asked.

"Or you'd have to tell mum and dad but you wouldn't want to do that to your favourite godson, would you?"

Sirius' mouth twitched. "You're my only godson, you little scamp."

He enveloped Harry in a tight hug, ruffling his hair.

"No more listening in on conversations between adults in this house, alright?"

Harry nodded.

"Good."

They were interrupted by an angry voice from the kitchen.

"He's not normal, James. He's precious!"

"Aaaah-and that's our clue. Let's go to your room." Sirius grabbed Harry and led him upstairs. "So, what made you break your promise this time?"

"They are discussing the party."

"They are?"

"Yeah, mum doesn't want me to go."

"I see."

Harry glanced at Sirius, then he opened the door to his room. It was a typical bedroom for a magical child. James had passed his own Quidditch passion onto his son and an unreasonably high number of blue Appleby Arrows posters graced Harry's walls, tiny figures on brooms zooming in and out without halt. The place of honour, the wall directly above Harry's pillow, sported the autographed picture of a seven-head Quidditch team, brooms in hand, and a bouncing nine-year old Harry among them. Leprechaun trefoil grew in a vase on the windowsill and Lily had carefully placed a family photograph on the desk next to the giant inkbottle with an impressive, albeit fake, phoenix feather. The shelfs were filled to the brim with books, stacks of long-completed homework assignments and James' old collection of Phanimizzard figurines - small, moving imitations of magical creatures. A spinning model of the solar system gleamed on the nightstand. Sprawled on the floor, hidden between the wardrobe and the bookshelf, lay a vast assortment of chocolate frog cards, comics, a few gobstones, several pencils and, strangely, an old, musky sock. Sirius jerked to a halt, staring at it with a look of mistrust.

"You're not hatching lizards in that again, are you?"

"No."

"Or anything else, for that matter?"

"No, I'm not. I'm never doing anything." Harry sat down on his bed. His plush dragon opened an eye and yawned. A few moments of silence followed, during which the furry Chinese Fireball curled up in Harry's lap and started snoring.

"You know that your parents love you very much, right?"

"Yes, of course," said Harry without looking up. "I love them, too. And I don't want mum to worry."

Sirius sat down next to him. "But you also want to go to Dora's party."

"Yes. Nymphadora even sent me my personal invitation. Can you believe it? And there will be cake and fun games and everything."

Sirius smirked. "Well, since she is celebrating her Hogwarts graduation and next step into adulthood, maybe not as many games as you'd like. But I get the idea."

Harry shrugged. "It's okay if it's not that many. It'll still be fun, won't it?"

"I guess so. Did you tell your mum that you want to go?"

"Not directly."

"I see. Let's hope your dad puts his foot down then, hm?" Sirius pretend-scratched his chin and stood up. "Maybe I should go to try and help him."

"You'd do that?"

"Only for my favourite godson."

"I am your only godson!" Harry shouted, a wide grin splitting his face, but Sirius had already left the room.

The grin was still plastered onto Harry's face a few hours later, when he arrived at the Tonks residence with his parents. Sirius' promise to watch the surroundings, James' calm reassurances and Harry's best puppy eyes had won Lily over and she had begrudgingly granted them permission. The weather was warm and a perfect summer breeze rustled through the treetops. The party took place in the garden behind the house. It was already bustling with music and people when the Potters arrived.

Decorated in overflowing yellows and gold, it looked like a field of sunflowers had exploded in the backyard. A floating banner read Congratulations to the new Hogwarts graduate. Underneath it sat the cake, a giant lemon tart, on a table. A few ornate pumpkins completed the decorations.

Nymphadora stood in the shadow of an apple tree with a small group of her Hogwarts peers. She looked even older amongst these unknown faces, with her long ponytail and fine dress robes. Overall, not more than thirty people had been invited, but Harry was thrilled. It was by far the largest crowd he had ever seen.

As soon as they entered the yard, Andromeda Tonks welcomed them. She was almost forty, but looked older with visible wrinkles around her eyes. Today, she was clad in an elegant cape, wearing amber earrings and a huge smile.

"Sirius! There you are. It's so good to see you all." She turned around and called: "Dora dear, come here and greet your guests." She did not need to bother, because Nymphadora was already rushing over.

"Congratulations, kiddo," said Sirius. "I hear you got excellent marks?"

"I don't know about excellent."

"Nonsense, Dora. Your mother told me you did great. Oh, and that's for you." He shoved a delicately wrapped present into her arms. "From all of us."

"Oh, it's splendid. Thank you!" Nymphadora exclaimed when she extracted a purse made from mokeskin. She leaned downwards and looked directly at Harry. "Thank you very much, little man."

Harry, suddenly self-conscious, murmured something unintelligible.

Lily put a hand on his shoulder. "You're very welcome."

"Dora, why don't you open the elf wine and offer your friends some? Alas, Rose and Marc have emptied their glasses again."

For a moment, it seemed like Nymphadora was about to protest being told what to do, but then she bid them goodbye and went catering to her other guests, while Andromeda led them to the sitting area on the terrace. This was where the adults were seated. Harry could see a group of witches and wizards next to the radio eyeing them. Under their stares, he felt uneasy, but the moment their gazes crossed Sirius', they returned to animatedly discussing the Weird Sisters. One witch was brandishing her wand while she spoke, its casually darting flame causing panic at the neighbouring table. Harry's eyes fell on an older woman, who was pushing her chair away from the hazardous witch.

"Mrs. Tonks!"

She turned around.

"Harry, I am so glad you could make it. I do hope you have finished your fractions for tomorrow."

"I have, Mrs. Tonks. I didn't even need Remus' help this time."

"How wonderful, my dear," Mrs. Tonks said in her sweet teacher voice. Harry knew she meant well, but over the many years of teaching, she had developed a certain way of encouraging her pupils that was just so stereotypical. Despite himself, he felt a hint of pride whenever she complimented him. Mrs. Tonks, with her curly white hair and purple-rimmed glasses, had been his teacher for three years now. Ever since third grade, when his parents decided that proper home schooling required a real teacher and Sirius had found out that Andromeda's mother-in-law had just retired from her position in an elementary school. His mum had been so happy for weeks. He bid Mrs. Tonks good-bye and sat down at a table between his parents.

Andromeda served them wine and pumpkin ice tea, as he looked around. There were mostly older witches and wizards present, some stealing curious glances at Mrs. Tonks' table, where the muggles sat. Mr. Tonks seemed at ease with the open display of magic, but Mrs. Tonks constantly looked over her shoulder to the witch with the fire-prone wand. Harry thought she was lucky to have such short hair; otherwise, it might have caught fire.

It was his first party outside of the safety of his own home and to be honest, he had imagined something more extravagant than just sitting around. He looked around and soon found whom he was searching. Ella was sitting in the grass, swooshing a play wand through the air and giggling whenever a few sparks appeared. She had dark hair, bound by yellow ties, and apparently much more fun than Harry. Among all these adults, engulfed in boring conversations, she seemed to be the only other child present.

"So, Harry, did you receive your Hogwarts letter?" Andromeda asked kindly.

"No, not yet."

"Well, then it will arrive soon, I'm sure." She turned around to Lily. "Thank you for coming. I know, it's a bother for you but-"

"Oh no, it's no bother at all." Lily seemed embarrassed, looking to James and Sirius for help.

"It's our pleasure."

"Really, Andy. We were all happy to come," Sirius said.

Andromeda smiled, although she did not seem completely convinced.

"Thank you. Dora was adamant that we invite you. She has taken to Harry - to all of you - quite frankly."

"She is a gentle young woman. You should be proud."

"Oh I am," Andromeda said and sat down. "I just wish Ted could be here and see her now."

Harry looked up. It was the first time he heard them talk about the late Ted Tonks. All he knew was that he had died a long time ago. Unfortunately, his mother was keenly aware of his presence and intervened before unsavoury details could reach his ears.

"Why don't you go play, sweetheart?"

Harry looked at Ella, who seemed quite content playing by herself.

"What if she doesn't even remember me? It's not like we're real friends or something."

It was true. They had only seen each other on a few occasions, mainly Sirius' birthdays.

"I am sure she remembers you just fine. Go now, but stay where I can see you."

If she remembered him, Ella surely hid it well. She ignored him for five minutes, in which Harry tried to think of what to say. He wasn't really used to speaking to other people, except the few that knew where he lived, and he had hoped that Ella would see him first, but she was too taken up by her dolls, which she had exchanged for the toy wand. It was only when Harry noticed, he was drawing the attention of a growing group of amused adults that he stepped forward.

"Ehm, Ella?"

She looked up, seemingly surprised to see him, but smiled.

"Oh, hi Harry. Finally! Everyone here is talking about adult stuff or" – she rolled her eyes - "Hogwarts all the time."

"Ehm, I am going there in September."

"Not fair. You're only one year older than me."

"No. You're only nine," said Harry.

"And you're just ten!"

"But I'll turn eleven in a few days."

Ella puffed. "No fair at all!" She sat back down in the grass and crossed her arms, without saying another word. Harry looked at her quizzically. He didn't really know what to do.

"Do- do you still want to play?"

Ella looked down at her dolls.

"Erhm, something else?" Harry said. "Please?"

"Fine. They're cranky anyway because I didn't let them sleep enough," she said, thrusting the dolls into their beds and looking up at him. "How fast can you run?"

After that, the afternoon flew by in a haze and before Harry knew it, the sun was setting, bathing the garden in a golden light.

"I - am – exhausted," Ella spluttered, resting her hand on a tree trunk. "Let's get some juice."

The buffet was almost empty. Only a few pieces of tart remained next to half-full carafes. Harry grabbed a paper cup and filled it with grape juice.

"I am never again playing catch with you, you know?" Ella said. "You're too fast."

"No, you are just too slow."

Ella shoved him. Harry stumbled backwards, barely managing to keep his balance, but his juice spilled all over the ground.

"What did you do?!" Ella shrieked.

"Me? You just shoved me!"

"No, look!"

She pointed under the table. There lay Nymphadora's present, the mokeskin purse. Soaked, with ugly red stains on the greyish skin, it looked like someone had vomited on it.

"Oh no, she's going to kill me!"

"What? Who?"

"My sister! I am not allowed to touch her stuff."

"I don't think that she'll be angry."

"Of course she will."

"Well, don't siblings fight? You should see my cousin Dudley. He's always yelling at Daisy."

"But look at her purse. It's ruined."

"It wasn't even your fault."

"Right, it was yours," Ella said, glaring.

"No, it was not. How was I supposed to know that it was laying under the table like that?"

"It must've fallen down, when mum brought the presents inside." Ella's face lit up. "That's it. Inside the bathroom is a cleaning potion. We clean the purse and put it back with the other presents. Dora doesn't need to know."

Harry shook his head. "I'm not supposed to leave the garden."

"But we're only going into the house. What's going to happen?"

Harry looked over his shoulder. No one was paying attention to them. His parents were talking to Mrs. Tonks and for once not noticing him.

"Come on, Harry!"

"Fine. Let's go, but quickly."

They ran to the house, through the kitchen, up the stairs and skidded to a halt in front of the bathroom.

"Come on cleaning potion, where are you?" Ella rummaged through the bathroom cabinet, while Harry listened for footsteps. Soft voices came from the backyard, but the house remained completely silent.

"Got it!"

She held a tiny, bright-red bottle. Pink letters read Mrs Skower's Sorcerous Stain Remover. Together they carefully dripped the potion on the blotches and waited. The purple stains grew paler and soon turned invisible. Ella sighed in relief.

"Let's just put it with the other presents and then eat some more cake."

Again, Harry followed her through the house, now walking calmly and taking in his surroundings. The house was not as large as his was, but filled with books, strange objects and ancient pictures. He wanted to stop, in order to look at what resembled a cross section of a pyramid, but Ella took his elbow and pushed him forward.

"Mum's a historian," she explained. "That's why we have all this stuff. She loves anything that is old enough to be dead thrice over. Here we are." She stopped in front of a heavy door and opened it. Harry leaned forward to see Nymphadora's room, but Ella simply barged in, dragging him along. The room was surprisingly plain. A small vase of poppies on the bed stand and an impressive bookcase filled to the brim with volumes whose titles Harrys did not even understand. On the desk lay a stack of presents, next to a picture of three people.

"Is that your dad?" Harry asked. He pointed to the man in the photograph. He had a huge smile and kind eyes.

"Yes, that's him."

Harry took a closer look. Ella definitely resembled Sirius' family. Her face was oval like Andromeda's whereas Nymphadora had inherited her father's heart-shaped features. However, both girls had their mother's dark hair.

"You're not in the picture."

"No, dad died before I was born."

"Oh" was the most eloquent answer Harry could muster. To have never met their own father, must be a terrible fate. He looked around desperate to find something else to say and his eyes landed on the presents.

"Do you think I'll get as many presents for starting Hogwarts?"

"Don't know. But you certainly don't get this when you're a first year." Ella opened a wooden case on the desk. It was filled with a few necklaces, various pendants and a golden watch. Ella took out the watch and showed it to him. The dial was spectacular, embroidered with tiny sparkling stars and spinning moons, but before Harry could do more than gape at it, the door swung open. Nymphadora stood in the doorway. Harry was suddenly aware of how adult she looked. Her eyes narrowed as soon as she spotted them.

"Don't touch that! Merlin, you know, you're not allowed alone in my room, Ella." She drew her wand and the jewellery case slammed shut. "Give me that wtch. And now, out of here." She turned to Harry and said in a softer voice, "Your mother is looking for you. If I were you, I'd hurry before she forces Sirius to call the aurors."

She did not need to urge him on. Harry was already in motion, running through the house, down the stairwell and back outside to the party. All the adults were standing, looking worriedly around. In the middle of the largest crowd stood his mum. Even from the distance, he could see that she was fuming.

"Harry! We were worried sick! And you go off, hopping around like a bouncing bulb? What were you thinking?"

"I'm sorry, mum. I just…"

His apologies did not matter. He should have known better than to disappear on his parents, especially his mum. He had managed to scare her. Thus, it did not come to anyone's surprise that the Potters headed home soon after. His parents sent him straight to his room, but when he entered, someone was already sitting on his bed.

~o~ ~o~ ~o~