Desiring Other Times
Chapter 12 - Variations
Disclaimer: The only things in this story I own are Jeremy Potter, Thomas Gravey, Felran Chase, some of the given names for the Slytherins that visited Malfoy Manor, and wristband wards. Everything else (unless I've forgotten something) is J. K. Rowling's, or Bloomsbury Press'. Bloody bastards.
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I've always been a stubborn wizard. If I have a goal, nothing will stop me, no obstacle, no barrier, nothing. I will work and work towards that goal and should anyone or anything stand in my way, I will ensure they are removed.
Jeremy Potter is the Boy-Who-Lived, and I will make sure he destroys Voldemort once and for all. There are myriads of obstacles in between this goal of mine, and the first is the fact that Jeremy's confidence has taken quite a battering due to the rather superior results of his brother. Of course, the entry of Jeremy into the Gryffindor Quidditch team boosted it a little, but it was a moot point when my first training run for the Boy-Who-Lived ended up being foiled by Harry Potter.
I am loath to have to remove Harry from the equation – he is a rather useful boy, but if his presence continues to be detrimental to Jeremy's chances of coming into his own… well, I suppose I could convince Lily and James that Harry would do better at another school. Durmstrang, perhaps, in order to keep an eye on potential recruits of Voldemort. Killing him would be too much trouble – not to mention Harry can still be useful halfway across the world.
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"Albus?" Minerva opened the door to my office, and peered in. The gargoyle downstairs had already alerted me to her presence, but I played along.
"Minerva! What brings you here?"
"Harry Potter's just been checked into the Hospital Wing." I started. What?
"And what ails Mr. Potter?" I stood up, moving towards the door.
"Madam Pomphrey can't say – the students that found him say he was unconscious on his bed." We hurried down the corridor. "They had to cut their way through the curtains around his bed, when he didn't answer them in the morning."
"Cut their way?"
"He'd sealed his curtains and the boys – bless them – didn't know the counter-spell."
"I see…" We drew up to the Hospital Wing and strode in.
"Poppy?"
"Albus! Thank goodness you're here, maybe you can help us figure out what's wrong with Mr. Potter." Pure relief flooded her voice.
"He isn't wounded, nor is he showing any signs of magical exhaustion. Severus and I tested for poison, but he's completely clean." Poppy looked up at me worriedly. "Something's making his skin break out hives though, Professor. I've tried testing for all sorts of allergies, but nothing's turned up yet."
Harry's pallor seemed to make him fade into the whiteness of his bed, and I brought a hand to his forehead.
Seeing what I was doing, Poppy spoke up again. "There isn't a fever, and we've tried testing for Muggle diseases but they've all come back negative as well. Severus should be back soon with our tests for Magical illnesses, but…" She trailed off.
"There's an unusual amount of magic centring on his forehead…" I murmured, and Minerva and Poppy seemed to pale. Even if Harry wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived, he had been present that night, and who knew what could come from a curse scar caused by the backlash of a Killing Curse?
"It's… it's not…"
I shook my head. "But not about the scar specifically. If I didn't know better, I would say Mr. Potter is in a meditative trance, but something seems a little… strange." Bracing myself, I entered Harry's mind, piercing through the barriers with some difficulty.
There wasn't anything strange at all in his mind, everything was in its place and nothing seemed out of order at all. But then again, Harry was an eleven-year old wizard – surely his mind wouldn't be this perfect? The feeling that I was missing something didn't dissipate, and it was only when I bumped into something unseeable that I realised what was wrong.
There, before me, was an invisible barrier. Beyond it, thoughts and memories floated by, but they seemed indistinct. Perhaps the barrier wasn't invisible at all, and was merely 'coloured' in camouflage. Somewhere, somehow, Harry had learned to hide his true mind extremely well.
Focussing on something you couldn't see was quite difficult, but I managed to slip through the invisible barrier. On the other side were more thoughts and memories, but still nothing seemed to pertain to just what exactly was wrong with Harry. Again, everything was neat and orderly, which led me to believe that there were more barriers, more sectors in Harry's mind.
I had no time to explore further as I was suddenly hurled out of his mind and back a few steps in the real world.
"Albus?"
"Unngh…" Harry groaned, and Poppy whirled around.
"Mr. Potter?" She hurried to his side again, and peered down at him worriedly.
"I… Merlin, I have the worst headache…" his hoarse, scratchy voice seemed like it had been caused more by screaming than by severe dryness of the throat due to dehydration. Poppy dashed off then back again, holding a small bottle of Muggle pills and a glass of water.
"Asp… aspirin?" Harry looked at the pills, eyes a little unfocussed.
"We don't know what happened to you, Mr. Potter, and we can't risk using one of our potions." She glanced at him. "Perhaps you can tell us what caused this?"
Minerva moved to Harry's other side. "Yes, I'm sure we'd all like to know that, Mr. Potter."
Harry popped the pills and swallowed them down with the water, not without a little wince of pain as they passed his throat. Just as he finished the water, I pointed at it and it was full again. He looked at me, nodded and forced a smile of thanks.
"I… I'm not sure, I… I was trying out a new…" He glanced at Minerva and Poppy.
"They know about the Occlumency lessons, my boy." I supplied, having gleaned his worries from the outermost sector of his mind.
He nodded. "Um… I was- I was trying a new exercise, putting in… putting in golems in my head." Harry looked up at me through his eyelashes. "Were there…?"
I shook my head. "None that I could see, Mr. Potter. But I must say, the defences you already have are… formidable, to say the least." I commented offhandedly and was rewarded with Harry's face freezing for an incredible minute moment. Minerva glanced at me with surprise, but when she looked back at Harry, her expression seemed to be more of someone who had expected for me to praise him like that. She knew most of the prophecy, not to mention that Harry, being the brother of the Boy-Who-Lived, would no doubt become someone incredibly powerful.
Strong enough to buy Jeremy more time.
"I… thankyou." Harry mumbled, embarrassed. I could see that he didn't really believe that the 'great wizard Albus Dumbledore' thought so highly of his skills. Perhaps it was a result of always having been second best to Jeremy, that no matter how good he was, all everyone wanted was Jeremy. Even with how much more superior he was in class to everyone in his year – including his brother – even with that, it seemed Harry couldn't shake that feeling of never being enough.
"I mean every word I say, Harry… and I saw enough of your mind to know that given a little more time, you will have truly mastered Occlumency." I tried to reassure him without sounding too ridiculous – children these days were all too cynical.
He snorted. "No-one can ever say they've mastered anything, Professor. That's what keeps the Muggles going and going, what makes them push to new heights, while the Wizarding World still haven't found a better Portkey than the one they stumbled across six freaking centuries ago!" His voice was bitter, and I wondered where all this was coming from…
"Mr. Potter!" Minerva admonished his language, but we could all tell she was relieved that the son of James was feeling well enough to by caustic.
"That is an interesting idea, Harry. A better Portkey…" It really was – wouldn't it be better if the Portkey didn't spin the traveller about? If it didn't spend so much time in the ether dimension? If it was more efficient? I made a mental note to have a chat with Vanus and Filius later… if even the Arithmancy and Charms professors of Hogwarts couldn't come up with a few ideas, no-one short of a think tank of geniuses could.
"Be that as it may be – you will still be on par with the best Occlumens in the world."
"I don't believe you." His reply was instantaneous, like a reflex reaction.
Poppy and Minerva seemed immensely worried at his rather disparaging mood, when they knew Harry to be someone that went out of his way to be unoffending. Even I was worried.
"Perhaps you will believe me when we begin teaching you Legilimency." I offered as a compromise, and he nodded curtly.
"Perhaps." Something in him seemed to deflate, and he slumped a little. "I… I'm a little tired, sir, and…" He gestured vaguely at his head. "…I've got a headache, so forgive me if I'm not… in the best of moods."
"That is understandable-" His face seemed to lock up at that word, but I ploughed on hastily. "-Harry. Consider yourself excused from classes, for however long it takes for you to recover from your… illness. However, there's still one more thing. Are you allergic to anything, Harry?"
He froze, fingers clutching at the sheets. Harry mumbled something indistinct.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, but you're going to have to repeat that… My hearing must be going in my old age." I joked self-depreciatingly.
"While… during the holidays…" Minerva gasped, mind racing through all sorts of possibilities, all sorts of things Lucius might have done to Harry. "…I became an Animagus, and…" Harry paused. The three of us were quite confused. What did becoming an Animagus have to do with allergies? Oh, wait…
"And your form is allergic to what, Harry?" I prompted.
Again, he mumbled something.
"Mr. Potter, do speak up." admonished Poppy.
"I'm a vampire and I'm allergic to people I don't consider prey!" He blurted out, and the three of us blanched then involuntarily stepped back.
"Dear gods… a vampire? And that species?" murmured Minerva, awestruck.
Poppy brought a palm to her head, and sighed exasperatedly. "Well, I'm sure I can find something that can help with that allergy…" She strode off, then came back two minutes later, arms laden down with jars and flasks. "It's fortunate that you're not really a vampire, else none of these potions or balms would actually have any noticeable effect. Perhaps you could have Severus teach Mr. Potter how to brew them?"
"I'll need you to all make me a Secret Oath…" Harry looked up at all of us, eyes stern.
"Of course, my boy." We all raised our wands and spoke the generic oath for protection of secrets, specifying where necessary what secret we were locking away.
"I suppose we shouldn't disturb Mr. Potter any longer. Rest well, Harry."
Harry nodded, and Minerva and I excused ourselves. Poppy conferred with me about what types of potions would be safe to use given there seemed to be an excessive amount of Soul Magic flowing through him.
"Albus?"
"Yes, Minerva?"
She glanced back in the direction of the Hospital Wing. "Will… will he be alright?"
I sighed. "I'm sure Mr. Potter will be able to pull through. He is a Potter, after all." I alluded to his Gryffindor heritage, and Minerva took the hint.
"Yes, he is, isn't he?" She replied, offhandedly. "Don't you think it strange he ended up Ravenclaw, though? Seeing as how he has… well…" She trailed off.
"Blood doesn't make you all you are – something Voldemort has never been able to understand. Harry may have begun to grasp this idea, and it might explain why he seems on better terms with young Mr. Malfoy."
Minerva's face twitched. "That's another thing, Albus. How can we be sure…?" At my knowing look, her eyes widened, a little in awe, a little in horror.
"You've been using Legilimency on the students!" She paused.
"But I know he's experiencing doubts. Unfortunately, it seems that when he went home, his father well… reprogrammed him, so to speak, and when he came back again for term, we were back at square one. But what we have to remember is that he started to walk the path. And he's beginning to, again." I reassured her. She seemed both disgusted at Lucius' actions and quite surprised at Malfoy junior's tenacity.
"I… I didn't know that, Albus. And he's… turning around? Again?"
"Again." I reaffirmed. "I have no doubt that when he goes home, his father will wipe out all the progress we have made, but I also have no doubt that young Malfoy will continue to doubt until he is given enough time to defend himself from his father."
"But… but what if…?"
"Then that is no loss to us – having him on our side is not imperative to our cause, but if we can save one more person from Voldemort, then so much the better."
She nodded, and we entered the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry's dorm-mates scurried over to the staff table and fired questions at Minerva, all of which she answered ably without giving out any details.
"Mr. Potter is certainly a surprising student…" She muttered out of the corner of her mouth.
I smiled benignly. "So it seems. In the past four months, we've had more excitement than in the previous ten years," I joked, half-serious.
"His… allergies. Will the potions really be able to help him?"
"I'm quite sure they'll take the sting off of the rashes… but there is little that can be done about the root of the problem. Perhaps the Muggles might be able to find a way, but there a few genetic scientists that just happen to be wizards or witches. None, I must say…"
She seemed disappointed – we both were, in fact. If the brother of the Boy-Who-Lived suffered from such a debilitating condition, how could he possibly… hang on…
"The Marked One's brother will light the way and he will become as ash, mourned by the birds of Ra." I quoted, and Minerva looked at me puzzled, before her eyes widened as well. "We've always thought that line meant… meant he would become a phoenix. But…"
"…but vampires don't turn to ash or come back to life…" She finished, face paling at what this could possibly mean. "Does… does this…?"
"Perhaps it only means he has a phoenix as a familiar?"
"But… but a vampire's a Dark Creature! How could a phoenix…?"
"Or maybe he has a second form." I was grasping at straws here, and we both knew it. "Perhaps we should talk about this… later."
"…yes, later…" She agreed, shaken.
The Marked One's brother will light the way and he will become as ash, mourned by the birds of Ra. We had interpreted that line to mean that phoenixes would be involved, and that Harry would somehow be burned to ashes. The two phrases had been uttered as one sentence by the Seer, and had led us to believe that Harry would somehow be able to turn into a phoenix, even if no-one had ever had a phoenix as their Animagus form before. But this? A vampire?
It was as if I was a king of a land made of beliefs, and the very throne was shaking, threatening to collapse. What… what if Harry was the Boy-Who-Lived? What if Jeremy was the other in the prophecy?
Later, in my office, Minerva sat down nervously.
"We have to test Jeremy for his Animagus form." I said without preamble, and she nodded.
We had to do this. We had to know. If somehow, such a great mistake had been made and we didn't rectify it, then who knew how badly the war could turn?
"I'll have Severus brew the tester."
I made to shake my head then thought the better of it. There was no reason for me to believe that anyone was certain to have an Animagus form. And if I was wrong, and if Jeremy didn't have one and I made him drink the Revealer-Unlocker? Then he would die and I would have chaos on my hands. "Certainly. We have no time to waste."
She looked at me oddly. "No time?"
I nodded. "None. None at all." I repeated, and she nodded curtly and used my Floo connection to contact Severus.
We couldn't quite tell Severus that Harry's form was a vampire, but we managed to tell him enough about the rest of the situation that he agreed that Jeremy needed to be capable of performing an Animagus transformation as soon as possible. Minerva had to speak to Oliver Wood, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, that Jeremy had to miss tonight's practice.
"But Professor-!"
"No buts, Mr. Wood. Mr. Potter is going to be indisposed tonight."
Oliver grumbled about how many nights Jeremy seemed 'unavailable' recently, but when Minerva reminded him that Jeremy was his best Seeker since Charlie Weasley – possibly even better – he gave up.
"What's going on, Professor?" Jeremy's impertinence seemed to be due to his having realised that the Headmaster of Hogwarts was actually 'approachable' and not a god.
"Insolent brat-!" Severus began, half moving towards spilling the goblet of potion he had brought. I looked at him pointedly and he subsided, setting the cup on my desk so as to minimise the temptation.
Harry sat in a corner, watching the proceedings with a nonchalant eye. His relaxed posture would seem to the unpractised eye as being highly awkward should someone come bursting through the door with the intent of causing bodily damage. To the trained eye, however, one would note that his hands were enveloped by the wide and slightly longer sleeves of his robes, probably in a position to release his wand from its holster. Then there was the fact that his sprawling position allowed him to smoothly roll and drop to the floor. All in all, Harry was sitting like Moody would have when he still had all of his limbs.
A part of me wondered where he had learned to do that, and why he had felt it was useful to train his body to subconsciously take that position whenever he was sitting still for any period of time. The brother of Jeremy Potter was turning out to be a very interesting individual.
"Since we've gotten the pair of you to a sufficient level of Occlumency, and Harry here learned how to perform an Animagus Transformation during the holidays-" Jeremy whipped his head around to look at Harry.
"Really? When'd you have the time to do that?"
"I can't tell you. My lips are sealed." Harry replied smoothly.
Jeremy blinked, becoming a little irate at his brother when he realised why his brother had chosen those specific words. "A Secret Oath?" Harry nodded. "Well, at least you can tell me your form!"
"Atlantean Vampire."
"There are species of vampire?" A pause. "You're a vampire!"
Harry sighed and looked away from his brother. "No, I'm not a vampire. My Animagus form's a vampire." He clarified.
Jeremy tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. "Um… I see?" He scratched his head. "What's an Atlantean Vampire, though?"
Had he been any other first year, Harry would have groaned exasperatedly. "It means that when I'm in my vampire form, I'm allergic to anyone who I won't consider prey. When I'm in human form, I'm just… intolerant of them. Like how Aunt Petunia's yeast intolerant."
Jeremy wrinkled his nose at Petunia's name, but he nodded in understanding. "I see…" Then he frowned. "But… why aren't you, well, breaking out in rashes right now? You're not seriously considering drinking our blood, are you!" His voice turned hysteric and he backed away from Harry.
This time, Harry really did groan. Severus and I were trying out best not to intrude into their little conversation – it certainly gave us a little insight into the relationship the twins had. "Do you seriously think the Wizarding World hasn't found a way to help people with allergies, let alone intolerances?"
Jeremy had stopped backing up, as he had bumped into the front of my desk. The dish with the lemon drops wobbled precariously, but I steadied them with a quick burst of wandless magic. Harry looked curiously at me, but then returned to looking rather patronisingly at his brother.
"Um… no?" Jeremy guessed, shrugging.
"Idiot boy… but then what can you expect – he is his father's child." Severus muttered and Jeremy whirled around to glare at him.
He opened his mouth, but Severus continued. "Do remember your father became an Animagus in his fifth year. If you truly are your father's son…"
Jeremy's mouth clapped closed as his mind processed the comment that wasn't really an insult in the end, that was more a statement of Severus' high expectations of the boy rather than a compliment.
"I'm going to need Professor Snape and Jeremy to give me an oath to keep my form a secret. And that I'm an Animagus." Severus and Jeremy readily agreed, and then we took Jeremy through the Secret Oath form, as it was slightly different to the Promise Oath or the general Magical Contract Oath.
Finally… "This potion, Jeremy, will tell us if you're an Animagus. It would be best if… you were sitting in a chair when you drink it." I flicked my wand and a cushiony chair was conjured up. Jeremy picked up the goblet and sat down on the chair, which was actually a recliner.
Jeremy raised the cup in a silent toast, then drank deeply.
"Sweet dreams…" muttered Harry. "I hope." He added.
The goblet fell out of Jeremy's suddenly limp fingers, and I caught it with another burst of wandless magic, gently manoeuvring it back onto my desk.
Severus and Harry looked pointedly at me. Neither was really brave enough to accuse me of showing off, though.
Harry stood up from his chair and approached Jeremy, taking first his brother's pulse then checking if his eyes dilated properly. Tipping his head to one side, Harry listened to something then looked up at us. "He's asleep. Pulse is steady, breathing's regular. He'll be fine."
We nodded, with me being more sure thanks to the little monitoring devices scattered about my room that informed me as to the location, health and general mood of Jeremy Potter. There already were a few that did the same with Harry, although they seemed to have started to malfunction after Harry's trip to Malfoy Manor. In his report, he had informed me that Lucius had insisted he have some human blood – from a wizard, probably, though he wasn't sure of the gender – and blood from a magical creature (whether humanoid or not) was certain to change a vampire's core magical signature. That could be the only reason why all of the devices were failing, and I was quite sure Harry hadn't drunk from anybody since he had returned.
"Well, while Jeremy's asleep… Would you mind answering a few questions, Harry?"
"I can't promise to answer all of them, but those I do I'll answer truthfully."
"That's all we expect of you, my boy. Now… how have the potions helped your allergy?"
He shrugged. "Sometimes I get a little itchy, or my skin starts flaking, but it heals fast enough." Harry paused. "Although sometimes at mealtimes, I feel a little nauseous – must be all the people. Every so often, I feel a little dizzy."
"The potions should help with those dizzy spells – Professor Snape designed them to become increasingly effective the longer you took them. Eventually, you'll probably only need to take a dose every few months and just apply the balms in severe cases." Severus nodded, agreeing.
"Which reminds me, Mr. Potter – we're going to have to organise a time for you to learn how to brew them yourself. Are you taking any co-curricular activities?"
Harry shook his head – he wasn't even in the Gobstones club. "No, I'm just taking it… taking it 'easy' this first year. At least, that had been my plan." He commented wryly.
I chuckled, and Severus smirked. "Well, since you seem to be doing oh so well in your studies, perhaps we can spend an hour in the dungeons every night for… Remedial Potions."
Harry rolled his eyes at Severus' fake irascibility, but nodded nonetheless.
"What about his Accelerated Potions classes, Severus? Perhaps he could brew them for… extra credit?"
Snape pondered on that idea, then shook his head. "If the potions or the balms are to be used, they have to be treated and bottled on the spot – the other students might be a little too curious as to where they go. Not to mention they might recognise the scent of the balms on him or the people in his dorm might realise what those morning potions are for. We can't afford to leave any loose ends, Albus." He glanced at Harry. "It is… fortunate that Mr. Potter is intelligent enough to be able to skulk about unseen, even if it gives him free reign to wreak havoc in the castle."
I smiled serenely at him. "Very well, Severus. You know best, I'm sure."
The quite obvious ego patting didn't really puff him up all that much. We waited for another ten minutes for Jeremy to wake up, but still nothing happened, so I translocated a dish of sandwiches and a pewter pitcher of pumpkin juice into my office. Most people thought I was merely conjuring the food, and ate it assuming that their bodies wouldn't absorb anything from it. Unfortunately for them, it was real food and I for one didn't need to lose weight. It was more like I needed to gain it, come to think of it.
"The elves make good food." Harry commented as he chewed on a toasted ham-and-cheese sandwich.
"So you noticed?" I was surprised – but then again, it was Harry who had the orb, who was slowly but surely figuring out the differences between all the branches of magic. He shrugged.
"Guessed. Conjured food always has this… aftertaste. And the detail's always lacking a little." He replied, and Severus looked vaguely impressed. It wasn't any ordinary wizard that could tell the difference between conjured food and real food just by taste – and even if Harry had enhanced senses, we doubted he'd had conjured food in quite a while, so he must have figured out the differences before he awakened his Animagus form. That sort of talent generally resulted in them having just that little edge over others in the art of Potions, for they could tell the difference between whether right now was the time to put in that next ingredient or whether the perfect moment was in twenty-five seconds.
The dish and pitcher kept refilling itself, until finally, two hours after he took the potion (it was around 9 o'clock), Jeremy stirred.
"Ungh…" he grunted, blinking his eyes rapidly to clear the sudden flush of tears that had appeared thanks to the light. "Mab's mother – that was insane." Jeremy finally muttered, sitting up.
"Well, we can tell you're an Animagus since you fainted-" ("Collapsed," muttered Jeremy) "-but as to what kind… well, I suppose we'll have to wait and see. Severus?"
Severus made a kind of noncommittal snort. "I have the potion set up and I had Alphabus – that's our Runes professor," he added when Jeremy and Harry looked vaguely confused. "-so I asked him to put up some runes in laboratory number seven, to accelerate the time. The potion should be finished by tomorrow."
"Excellent, Severus. Well, I suppose we should escort the Misters Potter back to their dorms. We wouldn't want a repeat of last term, would we?" The boys rolled their eyes while Severus let loose a long-suffering sigh.
"Are you implying you have another precious artefact hidden in the school, Albus?"
"Perhaps I am – but that's for me to know, and you to… never find out!"
The others groaned and shook their heads exasperatedly. I took Jeremy up to Gryffindor Tower while Severus escorted Harry back to Ravenclaw Tower.
"Professor Dumbledore?" Jeremy looked up at me as we stood outside the entrance. The Fat Lady pretended to be asleep, although I could see her peeking out from under her lashes. Discreetly, I tapped several hidden 'buttons' – more like just specific areas – on the frame and the portrait and its neighbours all froze.
"Yes, my boy?"
He looked away from me and hesitated. "What would you do if I said… if I said I think Voldemort's dead?"
I frowned, then remembered that the only people that knew of Voldemort being involved in the Quirrell incident were Harry, the professors that had helped protect the Grail, Minister Fudge and myself. When Fudge had refused to say he believed me, I had made him give me a Secret Oath to prevent him from telling anyone else. Briefly, I had contemplated Obliviating him, but I realised it wouldn't take too much for a Memory Charm to be broken. I had also pressured the others to give Oaths, and I had given one to Harry as well.
Looking down at Jeremy, I realised that he had no way of knowing what had happened almost two months ago.
"I don't know, Jeremy. You're going to have to explain to me why you believe he's gone?" I decided to play along – who knows, perhaps Voldemort had somehow failed to find a body to possess.
"I tried to do some research on my scar, but since no-one's every survived the Killing Curse before, well… there wasn't any information at all." I nodded, prompting him to go on. "So then I had a look at what happens if curses backfire, especially Soul Magic ones. And 9 times out of 10, a connection of some kind is formed, generally one that connects the minds of those involved." I realised where he was going with his logic.
He continued. "When I was in my mind doing Occlumency exercises, I didn't find a single leak in there. And you know how the potion that checks if you can become an Animagus taps into your soul?" I nodded. "And even people that just get a little dizzy have visions of things that are closely related or connected to their souls, and people that get knocked unconscious actually dream about it." He paused. "I didn't dream about Voldemort at all, I just dreamed about how one time mum and dad took us to Australia and we were on the beach."
What? If anything, this made me even more certain that Jeremy wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived. And the beach? Australia? Australian beaches were – are – well known for the heat, for the sun.
Ra was the Ancient Egyptian god of the sun.
Not for the first time in my life, I felt the throne of beliefs and assumptions quiver, shake, then crumble completely.
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Author's Notes:
1. This chapter was a little bit of experimentation on my part to see if I can actually write from the point of view of somebody that's a heck of a lot older than myself and whose motivation beliefs and thought processes aren't that well described in canon. My opinion of this chapter is that I should just stick to people I can more easily relate to, like other teenagers.
2. Muggle medication – even if potions don't seem magical, there is magic in them. Just like how you should mix some types of medication with alcohol, certain types of magic just don't mix well. I'm assuming that the only part of the Wizarding World that doesn't mix well with Muggle things are purebloods and when excessive magic is around Muggle electronics.
3. The Better Portkey – you know the phrase 'a better mouse-trap'? And why the heck do people use a form of transportation that is definitely not recommended for old people with bad hips?
4. Vanus Vector – came up with a first name for Professor Vector, the Arithmancy teacher of Hogwarts
5. Allergy Potions and Balms – the potions help relieve the symptoms when exposed to one's allergies, and almost completely erase them if they are used to treat intolerances. The balms are to help disguise and treat the rashes.
6. Genetics – if you can isolate the gene(s) that cause an allergy/intolerance, the chances of curing it become increasingly higher. Unfortunately for Harry, there aren't any Muggle geneticists that would be willing to figure out what makes the Atlantean Vampire allergic to non-prey.
7. Petunia – I'm just making her yeast intolerance up, don't take it as gospel.
8. Core Magical Signature – think of a person using a wand like someone using a gun with a silencer. The gun barrel isn't entirely smooth and the bullet has a type of 'signature' marked onto the surface, and then it enters the silencer, where another pattern is marked on. The core magical signature is just the first pattern, meaning that people that use wandless magic leave traces of their core pattern when they do magic. For many reasons, the Ministry records both the first and second pattern (although the second pattern might change if someone 'acquires' a new wand). Ingesting and absorbing some of the magic of someone else would change the core signature somewhat, depending on how much you absorb.
9. Translocation – a real word, meaning "to move somebody or something from one place or position to another".
10. Conjuring – creating items from magic. Since magic doesn't actually contain any nutrients or energy (in the Muggle sense), people don't gain sustenance from eating conjured foods (unless they can somehow absorb the magic, but even then it only adds to their magic). If only I could conjure food, then I'd never gain weight from eating all those 'snacks'.
11. Alphabus – Albert Alphabus (completely original name) is the Runes professor of Hogwarts.
Well, looks like Jeremy has been thinking and it'll certainly be interesting if he still thinks Voldemort's dead when he returns. The political clout of being the Boy-Who-Lived and the 'expert knowledge' of Voldemort will only make Fudge's case that 'Voldemort's Dead!' even more believable… But that's only if Jeremy's still in the dark when the time rolls round!
Coming up next, the return to the HPoV (Harry Point of View).