Harry liked to think himself as a person with average intelligence. He didn't really like it when people thought him a prodigy just because he could do X thing at an early age, or accomplished a feat never seen before. In fact, Harry disliked having people know he was capable of anything above average.
Harry liked to think of himself to be a person with average intelligence, but with too much time and experience. Honestly, the only reason why he knew what he did is through years of study, practical application, experience, and review. After years of living, he is bound to pick up a thing or two, whether it be to learn how to retain knowledge better, improve memory, or to learn faster in general.
Granted, his age would always be far greater than his body could ever be, but that was to be expected if one was reborn constantly.
No matter how many times he was birthed, though, he would never get over how disturbing his baby years were. Honestly, he'd rather be ignorant of the whole baby years. Though, it was sometimes fun to mess with the parents, as they couldn't really blame the innocent infant of the complex pranks pulled.
Speaking of being reborn, Harry had come into consciousness not long ago, and he quickly took note that, yes, he was again in the womb of his newest mother. It was a little disorienting, waking in the womb after going to sleep last night. It appeared to Harry that he had died in his sleep in his last life. His wife would probably find his body. 'Well, that's new,' he thought in his old wise tone, 'Apparently Death isn't mad at me anymore, he has been quite violent as of late. I do wonder whose identity I stole this time.'
Death couldn't really create life, but he did hold off something's death on occation. So, if a foetus was supposed to die, he had no problems placing Harry's 'soul' in the foetus' position to live out his/her life. Though, Harry did prefer to be male.
Harry's young ears picked up some murmurings from outside the womb, and he felt his mother's distress. He knew his birth would not be much later, as it was the tell-tale sign that he'd be birthed soon. In no short order [for him at least] he felt cold air hit his pink skin for the first time in that life.
Harry had opened his eyes to a blurry sight that all new-borns were cursed with, and the experienced in the room said, "It's a boy!" to which Harry was relieved. He had nothing against women, in fact they have his highest respect, but he's not a masochist. Take his birth for example: he'd much rather be the idiotic man who took his lover's hand than the woman pushing a living being out of them.
Harry was handed off to his mother, [Honestly give the woman a break!] and he fruitlessly tried to look at her face. He wanted to see his momma damnit! Then, surprisingly he heard a familiar voice, "He's a quiet one."
It was a woman's voice, unmistakably his mother's from the direction he heard it. It was, though soft sounding, the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry's little body jerked in surprise at her voice and what it meant coming from his mother. What were the chances of him being born into the 20th century Lestrange family?
His new mother sounded saner than he remembered her as, so he decided to give her a chance. Besides, what she did was a long time ago and not yet to happen - probably. He couldn't really condemn her for a crime yet committed. And, for all he knew, this could be one of the alternate universes he already messed with to make her more 'light'. He faintly heard his name becoming 'Turias Lestrange' before his young body required sleep.
One night when Bellatrix was tending to his baby needs [ewe] and trying to get him to fall asleep, she started talking to him, trying to bore him with her voice. "I swear you are going to Gryffindor when you're older, where they are stubborn and too foolish to fall asleep." She smiled fondly to him as she cooed. It was difficult for Harry not to have a bit of 'accidental' magic right then. It was weird for him to have this woman coo over him. 'But,' he reminded himself, 'we are different people this time, and I did make a promise to myself.' Harry continued to look up at her with innocent baby blue eyes.
Bellatrix smiled at the baby in her arms, so wide awake and unnaturally alert for one so young. She knew the house elves would take care of her little boy, but she much preferred to tend to the baby even in the middle of the night. She always wanted to be a mother, and this is a part of that; late nights rocking the baby in her arms waiting for him to fall asleep. Though she was absolutely exhausted, she wouldn't trade it for the world. She started singing a song she used to sing her little sisters when they had nightmares to calm them down so they could sleep again. The soft melody laced with a little bit of magic proved fruitful to get the boy back to sleep. "Goodnight Turias," she whispered. It was the last thing Harry heard before he completely succumbed to Morpheus' embrace.
*_* A/N: From now on this Harry will be referred to Turias.
Turias was a quiet baby, only crying when he absolutely needed something. By the time he was two, both the House of Black and the House of Lestrange became worried about Turias as he hadn't said his first word yet.
Bellatrix [Bella] had taken to reading to him every night before bed, and making sure he understood English. When he was three, Turias had started having regular playdates with Draco Malfoy [his cousin] to make sure it wasn't a social issue. By age four they had another thing to worry over, other than his silence he had never had any accidental magic. Rodolfus, his father, blamed the black genes for giving him a squib heir. Bellatrix, the mother bear she was, never let anything bad happen to her baby. She was a strong believer of the old family tradition of family comes first. Her son was her flesh and blood, her husband was not. In fact, they were originally only together out of convenience; if it came down to a choice, she would choose her son. If she lost her baby boy, she didn't know what she would do; her son was her sanity.
Turias was testing his parents, seeing if they had the patience to wait until his eleventh birthday. So far, they did. They acted the part of a loving family, doting on their child despite the possibility that he might be a squib. They looked past his lack of speech and accidental magic.
When Turias Lestrange was ten, during one of Turias' play dates with Draco, he spoke his first words in that lifetime. He overheard Lucius badmouthing him about his apparent 'squib' status, and that was the reason he spoke. He walked in on, "…bloody squib can't even speak! I'm glad I married the good sister, the sister that could give me a proper heir."
Turias could see his mother about to curse Lucius, and he also noticed that his father's jaw was clenched tightly. Lucius didn't seem to notice he was pissing off most present - including his wife.
Despite how unnaturally quiet the boy was, he managed to capture the hearts of most he met. He couldn't play on heartstrings that didn't exist, though.
Upon sight of her son, Bellatrix forced herself to relax; she would do all she could to keep him sheltered from the horrors of the world. If only she knew. Turias smiled at her faintly, and his eyes refocused on Lucius, frowning. "Harsh words and little ears, Lucius," Narcissa lightly reprimanded him. She too noticed Turias' entrance.
Lucius turned around to see Turias – once known as Harry Potter – standing in the doorway. He smirked, "Well it's not like he'll repeat anything around Draco. Honestly Narcissa, I don't even know why we continue with these little playdates. He's obviously not going to Hogwarts!" he sneered.
Harry raised an eyebrow, his innocent grey eyes darkening into Avada Kedavra green; he was not impressed. He saw his mother go for her wand, her need to protect her baby outweighing her need to keep him from seeing violence. He looked away to her and said, "Mother, nothing good will come of cursing Uncle Lucius. He'll still be a pompous fool. And Uncle," he turned his gaze back to the aforementioned man, "Lack of evidence does not in itself become evidence. Remember that." Then his eyes went back to their usual innocent brightness. He smiled childishly and ran out of the room to find where Draco went off to.
It took a moment for the adults to come back from their shock. It was Bellatrix that gathered her wits first. She ran out of the room after her son.
After that day, Turias' parents doubled their efforts to get him to speak to them, but he just wouldn't. He would do like always and play the innocent boy looking at them like they were insane. Eventually they relented and let him be, as they always had before.