Chapter 1: Dark Places
Waking up as a baby while having a seventeen-years-worth collection of memories was disturbing to say the least and Harry couldn't help but be thankful that he'd missed out on the whole womb and birth memories part of the deal.
For starters, there was the lack of movement from his own body and the 'having-to-reply-on-others' thing.
As someone who'd had to run for his life or general health, suddenly feeling his body too weak to follow simple commands without having limbs flop around uselessly was downright scary. And the whole relying on others ordeal was mostly the embarrassment of having other people changing his diapers, or washing him or any other bodily function.
The one thing that he could still do was understand the language.
While Harry was pretty much aware that they weren't speaking English, mostly because Samsara had told him so as one of his last-minute warnings. He also knew that, as a master of the Hallows, and because Death was a universal thing, and also the fact that he had died, that it meant that he was bound to understand all human languages.
That didn't mean he could speak them yet, since his tongue and facial muscles were still underdeveloped. This came to be a very essential tool to his survival and continued mental health down the road because he understood every single thing that was being said around him… and he didn't like it at all.
He hadn't known exactly what Samsara had planed for his current life for they themselves hadn't known either. They could, at best, guess. And their guesses didn't seem too easy to live through.
Their guess about which world he would end up in was that his soul would naturally follow after already existing bonds, in this case his links with Remus and Sirius. So, he was most likely in the same world they'd been reborn in. Samsara hadn't really told him any way to identify the world his Godfather and the closest thing to a real uncle had been born in, so Harry could only hope their guess was right.
Secondly, he would still retain his magic. Because he'd bonded with the Hallows, it ingrained the magic into his very soul instead of something he inherited through genes. Usually when a wizard was reborn, they didn't carry the magic over. Perhaps they might have carried some special quirks or powers, but not the full set. A metamorphmagus, especially if they were already aware of reincarnation, could carry some semblance of that power, if just to make them incredibly good at disguising their features using make-up, depending on the world. But magic itself was native solely to the world Harry had come from. And that would make Harry an oddity if anyone were ever to find out about him.
Now, because the Hallows' magic was now ingrained deeply in his soul, it meant he had access to each Hallow through the Hallows' symbol that would show up marking his right wrist. It wouldn't make the object he was recalling solidify unless he used his blood to summon it. He only needed to think of which hallow he needed at the moment and send a burst of magic there.
If he'd thought about the Cloak of Invisibility, he would automatically turn invisible unless he summoned the object itself.
If he called upon the Resurrection Stone, he could wake Resurrected related to the person he was facing, or even his own, appear.
If he called upon the Elder Wand, he would shoot his spells through his right hand, no wand needed, even if it required more power or concentration.
One other thing was that he couldn't call upon the power of a hallow if said hallow was already in use after being summoned. So, if Harry were to lend his Invisibility Cloak to someone, he'd be unable to turn himself invisible until the cloak was either returned willingly, or forcefully recalled.
Another thing that Samsara told him regarding his new life, was that karma would still try to settle some scores with him, but mostly, because of his special circumstances, each life was bound to become harder and harder from now on in an attempt to test him, so… even if he had very few karmic debts, he could still count on a harsher life than expected for his tally.
Which led to the current moment: the circumstances of his birth and the things that were to come.
Like previously mentioned, Harry was perfectly capable of understanding language since he was born. That, coupled with the fact that people aren't that tight lipped around babies led to some alarming discoveries on his part.
While he didn't remember the actual birth part, he did remember his ass being slapped to get him to cry out whatever liquid that might still be in his lungs. That was what first woke him up and he couldn't help but follow through with the demand due to the suddenness of the act. That, and the fact that, while in the void, he'd had no body and, thus, no nervous system.
Going from no sensitivity to suddenly having a whole new network of nerves was quite jarring. But he quickly caught himself and quieted down after proving to everyone he did have clear lungs.
The medics assisting the birth didn't really pay any mind to how unusual that was. No regular baby would shut up after being slapped into a crying fit without someone calming them down. But Harry was quick to notice that the medics weren't regular medics either. They were completely blank faced, showing not even the smallest smidge of emotion on their face.
While Harry knew there was such a thing as professionalism, this seemed levels beyond professionalism. Even a professional nurse would still act differently from another just as professional. It was called having a personality. But these medics seemed devoid of that completely, and that scared him.
Through blurry eyes, Harry looked at his birth mother with curiosity.
She was young. Very young. Probably still in her teens. At the very best she didn't seem older than he himself had been upon his death and he didn't even want to consider the very worst. She had clear skin, a waterfall of straight golden-brown hair messily tied in a braid that dangled down to her waist and emerald green eyes that glittered like jewels. Even in her sweaty messy state that would have left any other woman looking disgruntled, she still managed to glow like a fairy.
"C-can I hold my child?" She asked, her voice trembling with effort as she strained to see him.
"This isn't your child." One of the medics stated emotionlessly. "This child belongs to Danzou-sama now."
"B-but."
"You are just a woman we purchased for the sake of birthing this child. Your virginity ensured no sexual diseases would affect the child's development. Your body shape and health also suggest this child won't have a weak body. The fact that you were just sold to a brothel only made it easier to barter with them for you so that we didn't have to arrange for another less legal way of inseminating the semen sample we have." The medic stated, seeming more like he was saying trivial facts than saying this woman's body was a convenient vessel for them like she was less than human.
"W-what?" The woman looked betrayed.
If Harry had to guess, she must have been led to believe they were saving her from prostitution in exchange for bearing a baby. They probably hadn't told her she wouldn't actually get to be a mom to her baby.
"Your use is over now." The medic stated and motioned to another of the nurses. Almost faster than he could keep up with, the nurse approached the unsuspecting woman and snapped her neck swiftly. All the while, the nurse looked as unphased as if she'd merely swatted a fly.
This whole thing terrified him. He couldn't help but ask himself where the fuck he was now and how the hell to get away from there as fast as possible.
Wherever he'd end up in, it was already gearing to be hell on Earth and he was beginning to wonder if he'd been happier not having gotten the Deathly Hallows at all.
He couldn't help but feel guilty over the woman's death. She shouldn't have had to die. She was young and could have had the chance of a better life.
He was in shock as the nurse that so quickly ended the woman's life started pumping whatever milk she might have had on her breasts into a container for preservation. The whole thing would have been creepy in a horror movie…
…it was far worse in real life.
As soon as the woman was completely drained, the nurses and remaining medics gathered her body and everything that had blood on it into a corner and, after some odd hand gestures, one of the medics literally blew fire from her mouth like some humanoid dragon, incinerating everything gathered there beyond recognition and startling Harry out of his shock and into silent horror as the smell of burnt human flash imprinted itself into his nose and memories.
That corner had already looked darker than the remaining room before the fire-spitting, indicating this wasn't a first-time thing. Bodies and remains must have been burnt there before.
The medic holding him emotionlessly nodded in approval and, as a nurse started clearing the ashes, he took him away from the room through dark corridors until reaching what looked like a cross between a maternity and an experimental lab.
"Subject 13 from sample HK-1 has been successfully birthed." The medic announced.
"Place him on that cradle." The scientist said disinterestedly as he inspected something on some sort of microscope.
The medic carelessly plopped him down or a barren cradle that only had a mattress and a blanket with a symbol of a thin Greek cross, followed by three horizontal stripes of different lengths on it. Harry guessed it might be this place's writing system. Considering what he'd heard and the fact that there were two symbols, Harry assumed it was either the HK for 'HK-1', though he doubted it, or the number 13 since it was his, and as a way to differentiate him from the other 'subjects'.
…
The more he stayed in this world the less he liked it.
Suddenly, the scientist stood up from where he was examining something in the microscope and walked towards another of the cradles in haste. On top of the cradle in question there was a symbol that resembled an imbalanced 't'.
The scientist took hold of an old-style recorder and clicked it to record.
"Upon further analysis on subject 7, I have found out there truly is no VWF being produced in the subject's body at all, indicating that the subject truly has a type 3 von Willebrand Disease which tells us that both parents donated the genes. Should we acquire sample HK-2 in the future, all potential breeding partners shall have to be screened to avoid wasting the sample. The presence of this disease in such an aggravated form disqualifies subject 7 from the list of potential Root ninja and, as such, he should either be disposed of promptly, or used as a scientific subject to find a way around this disease to increase the number of potential subjects to be passed into root. The logical suggestion points to the first option being more viable since this disease is rare enough that any money expended in correcting it would be a needless waste. I shall await on Danzou-sama's orders."
With that said, the scientist turned off the recorder and walked towards Harry, who watched him fearfully, having realized that the man had just suggested ending a baby's life over some sort of disease.
In the end he didn't really have to fear the procedures. While pretty invasive for a wizard, it was the sort of thing a muggle could expect from a hospital. Perhaps a bit more invasive than usual since it seemed the man was testing him for everything possible, but nothing unusual. The man did seem a bit alert at the fact that Harry hadn't cried during the blood extraction but, aside from that, things went smoothly.
After he was done extracting information from Harry's body, he went back to the machines of the lab-side of the room to process said information. Hour later he was still processing said information when another man walked into the room, this time a heavily bandaged one who was probably missing an eye.
"How is project Silver Generation going?" He asked the scientist.
"Danzou-sama! Forgive me, I didn't hear you coming in. So far there only have been three successful births. Subjects 4, 7 and 13. Subject 7 will have to be terminated, though. He has von Willebrand disease. It's a disease that prevents the person's blood from clotting properly and type 3, which is what subject 7 has, keeps him from clotting at all, leading to severely dangerous hemorrhages, even from small cuts."
"Hmm… perhaps. But it might be a good idea to use him to kill off some of the emotions on the younger recruits before they pass the final test. Better to first have them kill an innocent stranger before testing them with having them kill their partner and friend." The man, Danzou-sama according to the scientist, pondered and Harry felt even sicker.
What kind of world was this?
"It shall be done, Danzou-sama. Subject 4 seems to be quite healthy, but I'm unsure if their body will be able to endure shinobi training as it seems quite delicate. If she turns out to have their father's genius she could be trained as a scientist." He man stated.
"Perhaps." Danzou-sama said slowly, but Harry could sense disapproval rolling out of him as thick as miasma.
The baby girl would either shape up or die trying, that much was implied on Danzou-sama's tone.
"As for subject 13, he is, overall, the best specimen so far. His body seems quite healthy and he seems to be able to endure pain much better than the other subjects. It's not that he doesn't feel pain. He does twitch when it hurts, but he neither cries nor does he make a fuss. He is the best candidate for Root training."
"Good." Danzou-sama looked at Harry with a cold calculating gleam in his eyes, approving of the news. "As for the other subjects, what happened?"
"The carriers for subjects 3 and 14 had stillbirths, the ones for subjects 1, 2,6, 9 and 10 had miscarriages. Considering they were the girls we kidnapped from some foreign clans for the sake of this project, I'm not surprised the stress caused it. I've decided not to terminate them yet. Perhaps we shouldn't have used them so soon with such a valuable sample but they might still be useful. They do come from notorious clans, after all."
"Indeed. We shall try them with less valuable samples if just to guarantee we get their bloodlines to ourselves. If the next pregnancy succeeds, we shall slate them for the next HK sample."
"The remaining carriers for subjects 1, 5, 8, 11, 12 and 15 have yet to give birth so far."
"Good. Keep up the good work. I want a report on everything so far on my desk next Sunday. I'm interested on subject 13. He seems to have the most potential."
"I shall keep a closer eye on him."
"Excellent." The man than motioned to a dark corner and a masked woman appeared and took number 7 out of the room, probably to have someone kill him.
Harry couldn't deny it: he was in a very bad place to be.
The first immediate solution seemed to be to run away as fast as possible, but that came with its own set of problems. First off, Harry didn't know anything about the place he was in, including if this sort of things was of regular occurrence. As in: even if he ran away now, nothing prevented some other group from getting their hand on him and breed him like a stud.
No, before he could plan whatever there was to plan, he needed more information. And damn him if this simple fact didn't make him miss Hermione as sharply as a sectumsempra to his gut.
She was always the one to dictate when their small group needed to do research. If you needed to find out something, she would most likely have your answers or would be able to swiftly find them.
Even though he'd supposedly spent close to sixteen years of awareness in the void, there was no notion of time there and only Samsara really knew how time flowed. For all intents and purposes, he felt like just yesterday he was standing in the ruins of Hogwarts on a fight to the death. The void was so peaceful that any real grief was paused and only now was he really starting to deal with it.
In a way, Harry grieved the fact that he was the only one of his friends dying because it meant he probably wouldn't be meeting them. His only hope was that he'd get to meet the reborn forms of Remus and Sirius though, as Samsara had told him, they probably wouldn't be the same people. This only meant he would have to keep his eyes peeled wide open so as not to miss them.
But all those things would have to wait for now, even the research part. While Harry would still make sure to listen to everything being said around him, he was in no shape or form of being capable of researching right now. For one, while Death powers allowed him to understand spoken language, it didn't help with the written form what so ever. Then there was the fact the he could barely move his neck, let alone walk up to the next library and read a book.
So, no, information gathering was the least of his concerns. First, he had to learn how to move all of his muscles and gather enough strength. And he needed to do it in a manner that didn't alert the staff that he was better capable of understanding them than a baby his age should have. He would try to follow how his half-siblings developed to avoid looking suspiciously smart for his own good.
He only hoped he could survive that long.
.
A/N:
So, we finally get a space frame of where Harry is, but not when, as well as some clues (if you know where to look) to help finding who Remus is once a time frame is established.
How are you liking this so far?
