Greeting!

I present you the second chapter of Magic Shape! It took me a while but here it is! And thank you so much for the reviews! I clearly forget to mention that this story is a mix between the movie and the books, mostly the whole series. So to not get you all confuse, I put them as "X Year Arc" for an easy read. Now with the chapter, enjoy!

Edit: So I noticed that the changes I did in this chapter didn't save as I wanted, so I had to fix it. Including the rating that I forget to change since the beginning lol.

Chapter 2

The Promised Day

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The many streets of London were flooded with the summer light on a Wednesday afternoon, people wandered aimlessly through the many local shops, buy things or enjoying their happiness with friends and family, making their normal lives as usual. One of those inhabitants was whistling over their heads, spinning a black cane while he watched the humans going to one place to another below him.

"Watch out!" a voice shouted and, from the corner of his eye, saw something fall on him.

But that something went through him instead.

A thump and a screech echoed behind him. And turning around, he spotted an elderly man holding his granddaughter in front of a large sign on the concrete. Almost being stepped on by it. Lifting his gaze, he spotted a lot of heads with widen eyes looking down from the roof.

"Are you two alright!?" yelled the same worker, worried. "We are very sorry sir!"

"We are fine young man! Don't worry yourselves up there!" the older man shouted with a smile, looking at the workers and then went to reassure the little girl who was still clinging on his shirt. "Come on Lizzy, let's get you some ice cream"

The two hurried along -unaware that they were in front of him- and were lost again in the huge crowd of people, coming back to their human lives. The entity only rolled his eye and continued on, returning to whistle. It was not strange that they couldn't see him, after all he was a dream demon, a being of pure energy belonging only to the dream world.

For then, he was just a ghost passing by.

He sighed for the twelfth time in the day, stopping for a second as he began to rise into the sky, leaving his eye wander boredly at the world in the distance. The same world that he saw grow for one trillion years.

It has been a few years since the first magical war ended and the order was restored within London. At that time he had left the city in search of new discoveries that could entertain him, arriving to explore the forbidden areas of the city of Brazil and its advances in their magical community, helping to create some projects that would improve the human being in the future.

Giving his knowledge wasn't a big deal for him. On the contrary, he loved to sit down and discuss possible projects that the lucky human would want to implement for himself. Hearing their theories and wishes in the Mindscape was an entertaining way to satisfy his needs.

But it was not enough, he realized. It was always the same thing over and over again. The same people seeking knowledge, the same prideful people that wants to be better than others, the same kind of awful bastards that only wants to use him as a weapon. And they try to trick him, but he was more clever. Not that he wanted to brag about. Only a fact.

The whole idea of giving a lot and receive little made the life of the entity already monotonous, extinguishing a certain spark of curiosity that had calmed the emptiness during his existing days. He thought about leaving the planet and move on, but giving up isn't in his nature. At least as he know.

Regardless, he didn't wish to leave Earth, he wanted to keep watching and learning from their own evolutions. But with what cost? His passion? His sanity? He was sure that the humans would learn and grow by their own. He was sure. And he loved to help them! But the world moved differently from his home.

While their time were faster, his was very, very slow that it drove him into madness and leave him feel void.

Would there be a way to change that even? Of course not, the true was that of all the achievements that he had helped the man to achieve, of everything he did to make the world evolve to what it was today, didn't fill that something within him. This.. emptiness that consume his enjoyment in the passing days.

And he had ignored the feeling over decades, afflicting it with tiredness and sudden boredom. But now that the world moved slowly, it was impossible for him to ignore it.

It was a crude reality that he had now accepted after decades of watching the world change without them knowing that he existed.

And it hurts.

"I think Rowena's words make sense now," he said to himself, flying aimlessly ahead. "So much immortality will make me feel old"

The immortal beast closed his eye and allowed himself to be guided by the warm breeze of the station, passing who knows where through the buildings and the streets that, at the time, was not interested. Only his mind wandered in the nothingness, hailing his emotions and filling them with the cold feel of the emptiness.

Slowly.

Very slowly driving him mad.

A warm, filling sensation made him stop, turning around puzzled and his cane disappeared by inertia. His eye finally opening from the impression.

"What.. was that?" he asked to himself, frowning his eye.

Descending a little from the sky, he came into view to a lot of the same houses on a street, making him growl under his breath. Of all the places where he has ended up to, it had to be in the suburbs of Surrey. Had he been so distracted that he didn't notice that he get to another city that fast? He was in the central of London minutes ago! Wait.. How long was he flying again?

Ugh! Him and his stupidity!

Going down to almost touch the ground, he looked around the area and being distracted by the noise of giggling children scampering in the neighborhood.

Although there were children playing around the streets, it was clear that not many people passed through these places. He bet that the people have their jobs outside the city. Even more so with the emergence of the new industries invading all London, who could blame them.

Looking up, the dream demon found a large sign -was that being there before?- in front of him with the name of the street.

"Privet .. Drive .. Privet Drive. Why does that .. sound familiar..?" the sensation came back, going gently through his triangulated body, making him shiver.

Completely confused, the entity begin to fly his way to the streets of Privet Drive and to search the source of his sensation, narrowing his eye increasingly passing in front of the houses, feeling hysteric until stopping at one with the number 4 printed on its side. Guided by his own instincts, he flew over the ceiling, reaching a clear garden. And that's where he saw it.

A small boy with dark and messy hair was pulling weed after weed to where he was kneeling, the clothes showed that they were not his size, exposing part of his malnourished body when he stand up from the grass and scrubbed his sweaty forehead. But what brought him his attention were those green eyes, shining in the sunlight under his round glasses covered with duct tape.

The feeling ended when he looked at him, although at that moment he didn't care. He kept an eye on the boy as he went to pull out weed once again near a small shed, the shade of the tree shielding him from the sun.

That kid seemed familiar.

Very familiar.

The voices, which had been silent for several decades, returned like damn pests reciting the same thing in a lived loop and then left, leaving only two words in response.

"Harry... Potter..?" the memory was immediate, making him gasp. "Oh, the baby! Hahaha! Oh man, how much the boy has grown! How old is he? Three? Three and a half maybe? Oh! Should I greet him? That would be great! I wonder if he remembers the incident of T-"

"BOY!" his excitement was interrupted by a slam of the back door.

A horrible, obese creature appeared in front of the door, scaring the boy. Harry hastily stood up and in a blink went into the house, leaving the floating triangle alone in the garden.

"Well ... that was something..." he said, narrowing his eye. "Something not very pleasant, I would say"

Feeling for some reason unease, he approached the house only to collide with some kind of ancient energy, stopping him in his track. Startled, he touched the shield with his hands, pressing softly in the surface and search who belonged to. In his eye appeared hundreds of images of wizards and witches at high speed, coming to a stop to a specific one along with the echo of a name that he had not heard for years.

Lily Potter.

Her magic surrounded the entire house like a big bubble, preventing all magical beings from getting inside. It was magic so ancient and pure that the beast knew what it was about. A Blood protection, almost identical to the one she used on Harry in Godric Hollows but too weak. It was clear to him, Blood protections only worked if the person to be protected -in this case little Harry- considered the place as his home.

And as far as he could feel, it wasn't. The fact that he collided with it while being distracted was so humiliating and disappointing.

With a single finger, the entity fragmented it, watching it fall apart and leave the house vulnerable. Whoever made the barrier had done it without the power required. A real shame.

The whispers manifested themselves again, acclaiming their task in shrilled songs that made his head burn in pain.

"You're must be joking!" the voices tripled their pitch, making him hiss. "Alright alright! I'll do it, just let me work!"

With a growl the creature materialized a tiny black dagger and made a cut in his hand. Watching his blood gush with an electrifying bluish, he carefully drew various symbols on the floor around the house. Reaching the last of them, another large golden barrier began to appear, one more powerful than the last one.

"There. Good as new," he said to himself, looking at his work. "This will keep them away for now. Now shut it!"

Silence was his reward, thank the stars. He sighed in complete calm, closing his relieved eye but opened it again when he realized that the sun had gone down and the streets were lit with lanterns.

"Oh boy, It did take a while, huh?" he said, laughing, circling in the air. "Well, what else can be done? I'd better go in and say hi to the kid. But he must be eating with his family or watching television at this hour. Or maybe.. he's playing on those new virtual machines! I always wanted to get into one of those to chat with. Maybe I should take advantage of it! That should be fun!... Yeesh, I should better stop talking to myself... again"

And without anything else to distracted him, the entity came down from the sky towards the door and went through it.

Another ugly creature with a horse's face and giraffe's neck received him this time, apparently finishing cooking dinner for seven people. He Intuitively dodged her as she went into the refrigerator, watching as she extracted a ridiculously colorful cake and went humming to the table that was full of wrapped boxes in colorful papers. Presents, he remembered, a lot of presents he may add.

"So there's a birthday celebration going on here," he said looking at the many boxes, bigs and smalls. "But for who?"

He watched her as she was adding the final touches from the cake and smile, admiring her work. Still smiling, the creature called to the rest of the family, recognizing the fat beast Vernon and his mini clone Dudley.

Dudley .. What kind of name was Dudley?

Dudley Dursley, did they think they're poets? Piggy or Walrus Jr. would have been better names with how obese he was. Didn't they even care about the possible illnesses that he would suffer later!? Seeing how the boy ate the cake and the woman's laugh together with the ugly man's satisfaction smile, the answer was no.

Great.

Disgusted, the triangular entity decided to go through the room going to the hallways of the house. Average tapestry, photos, photos and more photos surrounded the place, showing only the three members in each shot. And none of Harry Potter.

The immortal being felt the anger build up instantly, turning him red. The Dursleys' loathing for the little wizard was clear, remembering how the boy dressed. But why? Didn't they know that this boy was a hero? Heroes were valued and respected with riches and greatness, were not?

And of course, child abuse is considered illegal based on his knowledge, they could even be in prison for life if the child suffered permanent damage or dies. But there is always a reason for it, isn't there? Or was he wrong? He was confused.

Shaking off his thoughts, he scanned the rooms searching the green-eyed boy through door after door, not caring about the weird things he saw in them, without success. Coming down from the attic, he rubbed his eye.

"He's not in the rooms," he concluded in disbelief, flying down the stairs with his arms folded. "Where will they have- huh?"

A small whisper interrupted him acclaiming the "door on the stairs", confusing him for a second, following the instruction soon after.

The entity had been so focus to look for Harry in the normal rooms that he didn't realize the small door hidden under the stairs. One that had a grill and a latch on the side.

"Oh, but of course," he sighed in annoyance, slamming his face. "How didn't I think of it!?"

Entering through the small door of the cupboard, he looked at the place.

The room, as he had guessed, was too small for an adult to spend the night, the bed having as much space as it could. A piece of furniture with broken toys, old books, and loose clothing remained well organized against the many cables and metal tubes.

And there on the floor was Harry, asleep with chewed toys and open books beside him. Bill flipped through the almost worn and scratched pages, assuming they were from Dudley before handing them over to the kid. The frown in his eye returned. So everything that was here, his clothes and toys, all were at some moment from the pig boy. And what about Harry's own things? Did he even have any?

He was looking for another book when Harry started to shake.

A nightmare, he identify as he approached him. Harry twisted himself on the floor whimpering in pain, whispering inconsistencies to what looked like a "mommy no .." repeatedly. He could see that the peculiar lightning scar on his forehead was now irritated and starting to bleed.

As if some force called to him, he placed a bright hand on his forehead, stopping the bleeding and blocking the pain. Seeing that he calmed down, he inspected the boy's dreams. Soon, the images began to appear on his body in a few seconds. A scream, a green light and a cruel laugh.

Harry Potter was dreaming of the death of his parents. On loop.

"This is not right," he said to himself, frowning, and rubbing his hand once more, changed the images from his parent's death to vivid colors of the cosmos and the star rain. The entity's most precious memory.

Seeing the boy smile left him strangely in a state of calm. Almost at peace.

The voices whispered certain words that he understood shortly. An idea so brilliant that he couldn't deny it.

"I suppose I could keep an eye on him from time to time," he said at their request. "Just in case"

Snapping his fingers, the room began to rearrange everything. The toys and books flew gently onto the shelf against the wall, taking advantage of tidying it up better. The bed arranged his sheets to receive Harry's floating body, tucking him carefully into the sheets.

It weakened him, almost making him fall to the ground, but he stayed in the air.

"Ugh, I'm tired," he said light-headed, bringing back a particular memory to him. "This is the second time I use some of my power in you, kid"

The triangular being remained for moments there, mesmerize in his small form as if memorizing every fraction and expression of his face. It would be a crime if he left without making sure that the dreams he gave to him would remain.

But he need to return, he had to recover in the Mindscape.

"I'll be back," he said softy, turning around. "This is the least I can do for you, but I will be back. This time I will"

As promised, the One-eyed beast kept an eye open on little Harry Potter. the Boy-Who-Lived.

In the mornings he went around the world -with new passion- searching of new knowledge between ordinary and magical humans, sometimes even interacting with old comrades to say hi.

Newton was one of the most people that asked him for suggestions and information about the creatures he took care for in exchange for a riddle about his own existing. It was a considerable exchange that he didn't get tired of doing with the magician. Even when he was turning old, he kept scolding him like a child while the wizard called him by the nickname he gave him. The dream demon.

Those moments were very valuable for the entity. A pity that Newton's life time was getting closer to join the stars and reincarnate once again. And what would he look like after? Would he be a woman or he'll still be a man? Maybe a creature like his profession?

The latter would be the right answer.

During the afternoons, around three-thirty, he would return to London to accompany Harry on his chores for a short moment, sometimes witnessing the constant mistreatment that the family gave him towards the boy at home and in the primary school where he attended. Doing laundry, cooking, taking out the weed, shopping, Harry Hunting game, teasing, punishments, and the list went on.

Despite the damage and humiliation, the boy continued with that innocence that characterized him. And that was something that he admired from him.

But when the night comes, it was where Harry revealed his pain, his fears, and the disappointments that ripped his body. He was in charge of relieving the pain and giving the boy good dreams. Some coming from what he experienced with the creation of the world. Others with childhood memories that, despite the time, were still inside his mind.

His mother holding him together alongside his father was the one that could make him sleep the longest.

Occasionally he would come to the Dursleys' room and give them nightmares of the worst kind. The beginning of slavery where they were the victims, how men treated women at the beginning of the centuries for Petunia and the brutality of the first wars with the consequences for Vernon.

He made sure of reflecting their actions with those memories from the past era. Sadly, without much effect.

However, the triangle being could notice how the child's spirit was falling down little by little over the weeks, even with the memories he provided, the effect ceased to appear and he saw him as a living dead prowling around the house. And that terrified him.

Every day the voices would cried out on him to do something to help him, but what? What else could he give him other than good dreams and his memories?

A month and a week passed after his arrival on Privet Drive and the entity returned again in a Thursday night, humming a jazz in tune. The mere thought that he came back to one place for a whole month surprised him, but it was not something he regretted. And if he did, the voices wouldn't hesitate to yell at him for the rest of eternity, the cursed ones.

Spinning his cane, he checked the number 4 of the house and went through the front door, going in as he used to. Even at night he could see his surroundings well so he continued to float upstairs and reached the Dursleys' room. Once his round finished and giving the adults their nightmares, the triangular being descended and went through the door of the cupboard, still whistling with closed eye.

"Y'ello? Anyone there?" he asked opening his eye.

The place looked the same as before, tidy and the bed well made. He would have been calm if it wasn't for the putrid odor inside the small room.

And changing his sight to the ground, he widened his only eye in horror.

The large shirt he had seen wearing that afternoon was torn on the ground with several stains of blood and vomit. The glasses, which were pasted with tape, were now broken and strewn on the floor next to an almost skeletal lump bathed in bruises and blood. Harry.

At the time, when he stepped into the human's land, had witnessed many cases of child abuse for generations. From the horrors of slavery against native people, racism among black and white-skinned mestizos, the extermination of the Jewish, the uses of human beings in experimentation until, in modern times, laws emerged to mark the equality of man. Still, the abuse cases didn't end there. It could be said that they softened, sometimes experiencing a light patting of the cheek and pulling of hair.

But this ... this was just cruel. So vile.

His entire body was marked with deep bruises, old and new. Big wounds on the back were still open and were the ones that painted the floor red. His face, stained with his blood, had tears falling from his cheeks.

Several emotions invaded him, but of all of them one stood out enveloping it in a bright red light. Rage. A grotesque fury that he had never experienced in his eternity clung to his center as if it was a parasite. The house shook by his energy as he approached the boy, almost touching the ground.

The Dursleys had crossed the line. A line that he didn't know that was marked until now. He would make sure to make the lives of those monsters miserable, even if he had to use all his energy to manifest it in the real world. It would take time, but he would make sure of it.

A gasp made him turn away from his thoughts, focusing again on the injured kid on the floor. There was something that led him to Harry, something that he couldn't explain in words. But whatever it was, he must answer to it. NOW.

Quickly snapping his fingers, he conjured a variety of objects that weakened him in his flight; a giant soft round cushion, a plate of food taken from the best restaurant in Paris along with a cream tea from Italy, a thick blanket and a couple of modified potions that he didn't even know where they came from. In addition to expand the cupboard a little.

Standing next to the wounded child and no mattered how tired he was, the one eyed entity accumulated all his power in the other plane making his body shine with power and, placing his hands on Harry's body, he began to heal his wounds. From the deepest ones to the superficial without leaving a scar.

When he finished hours later and making sure that the boy was still breathing, he took the first bottle in his hands -a Calming Draft- and with another snap from his fingers he transferred the liquid inside Harry's stomach. Continuing the process with the other two potions (Blood-Replenishing Potion and Dreamless Sleep Potion), he, between stumbles, placed the kid on the cushion and wrapped him with the blanket, earning him a tiny smile. Satisfied, he went to the other side of the room and sat down, exhausted and almost out of energy.

He had used a big portion of his power and reserves to mend the wounds. But Harry would live, he was sure of it.

Without taking his eye off him, he remained at his side with the plate and cup at his side, bathed in magic for when Harry wakes up everything would still hot.

The entity sat there with his thoughts invading him, the voices whispering things that he couldn't grasp as his eyelid get heavier by the minute until, without realizing it, he closed his eye and slept.

— - — -▼- — - —

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