Bittersweet Symphony
By: Amanda
Chapter Three
Harry was free to walk the streets of Diagon Alley and no one was any wiser. It was literally amazing what a small lightning shaped scar could do to a person's entire existence. He had made a quick stop at Gringotts and lucky for him no one was in line and the goblins didn't really give a damn so long as he produced the key. He changed over enough gold for Muggle currency and then set off for some real shopping for the first time in how long he didn't know.
Harry never was one to enjoy shopping but he had today, considering he felt free. If anyone asked his name he used Blake Aneirin. Aneirin had been a sixth century Welsh Poet and Harry thought it would be fitting for both the Muggle world and Magical world to use a not-so odd name yet one with originality.
Even if he was no longer Harry Potter with the scar and glasses, he however was, 'That gorgeous bloke that smelled good.' According to the few women he had passed by on the streets.
He would have blushed if he could, never had he ever expected that to come out of these results. He was really a simpleton or so he thought but obviously that's not what they believed. It actually kind of felt good to be referred to as good looking, he didn't have an ego nor was he arrogant, all his life he'd been teased because of being so small and with glasses and awkward messy mop like hair but now… he was different.
He collected his school supplies and added several books on top of that. He was going to have a very boring year considering sleep would never come to him again. He made an account with Flourish and Blotts and they would update him every month with catalogues and new reading material.
He did the same with a smaller yet shadier bookshop on the edge of Knockturn but still in Diagon Alley as he shrunk down everything in a small bag and feather charmed it so that it was easier to carry.
The last stop on his morning journey which had turned into the afternoon was Madam Malkins.
He tried not to flinch at the scents that assaulted him and his mind buzzed and the monster that he was seemed excited. Something inside smelled delicious, Harry braced himself and pushed that part of him down. He'd been feeding on animals lately and he was trying to keep that habit but it was hard.
Animals did not compare to the lovely taste of humans. He heard a familiar annoying voice but he had no idea who it was or why it was familiar.
He slipped silently in and stood with his back to the door and took in the teenage female with curly black hair and light gray eyes. She was frowning and he saw why, a rather bitchy blond haired male with a gorgeous mother that didn't look any older than twenty-five was humoring him.
"Mother, I don't like this place!" he hissed. "She keeps grabbing my arm."
Harry furrowed his eyebrows, who were they? Why did he recognize the bitch boy? He wondered.
"It won't be long honey, just ten more minutes, please!" she simpered and the boy glared at her before swirling around on his heel and walking through the curtains toward the back.
They were rich, their blood smelled pure but the woman's was more appetizing and it made him hungry.
The young girl wrinkled her nose and then gasped when she saw Harry in the doorway. She blushed straight to the roots of her hair. "Uhm, hello?"
Harry stepped forward. "Good afternoon, miss, I'm looking for a new wardrobe today, do you think you could help me?" he asked silkily causing her eyes to dilate as she leaned forward.
"Oh, yes! What are you looking for?" she asked clambering off the stool.
She was rather short. He could hear the brat's whiny voice from all the way out here and his mother's gentle words to keep him there.
How annoying, he thought.
"Hogwart's robes, dress robes, and every day robes."
She led him through the curtains to see the chubby squat owner of the shop staring exasperated at the blond as she sized him up.
"Romalda darling, who do you have there?" she asked causing everyone's eyes to flicker over.
"A new customer," Romalda answered as the boy's gaze narrowed and the woman simply stared and he was sure he could smell the blood rise in her as her pale cheeks were dusted.
"Excellent! There's a free stool just over there," she said as Harry gave her a blinding smile.
"Thank you, Madam," Harry said evenly and followed the young girl over and stepped out of his shoes briskly and stood up onto the stool.
She blushed. "M- may I ask you to remove your jacket?"
Harry did so and draped across a nearby rack and the tape measure flew up and began to get his measurements. While this was going on, Harry was trying to deduce who the two light haired people were. The memory was so foggy that he couldn't make heads or tails of it and he knew that the boy was more familiar because he was irritated by simply looking at him.
The woman he had a feeling he didn't know at all and perhaps knew her by name when he was human. But who? They both smelled of dark magic.
He didn't stare at them, he didn't need to.
When she inquired about what he wished after his school robes he told her a dozen black basic robes, three silk black cloaks with a hood, five sets of crimson, gray, hunter, navy blue, and dark purple with all the special charms embedded into them. He ordered a set of dragonhide black, dark blue, and gray boots. He asked for two sets of dress robes, one silver and black and the other crimson and black and he would leave the design and collaboration up to them.
He ignored the boy named Draco and the woman by his side as he followed Romalda to ring everything up.
"What are their names?" Harry asked bending down to whisper.
She shuddered and took in a breath as the blood literally flooded the pockets of her cheeks. "Malfoy," she managed to whisper back, "I go to school with him and he's an idiot."
Harry nodded and straightened. Malfoy, that name did ring a bell and it was at that moment the memory of dual blond males settled into his mind. One with long silver blond hair with a silver headed snake cane which concealed his wand and finally glass ice eyes.
He recalled a diary and a little redheaded girl and then an elf. All of these memories flooded him and he saw in his mind's eye that he had dueled the both of them. The younger one on more occasions and he realized that they were school rivals.
But Draco Malfoy hadn't been important enough for Harry to give a shit or even remember. He was weak and he followed his father like a puppy. The woman was obviously his mother and he still couldn't recall her name.
He shrugged so minimally that the young girl hadn't even noticed.
"You mentioned Hogwarts?" Romalda asked tentatively as she rang him up.
Harry flashed her a smile. "Sure did."
"What house?"
"Gryffindor."
She gasped. "You too!? What's your name! I've never seen you before!" she said practically bouncing with excitement.
Harry thought about it. She couldn't see that he had no scar for his wild mess of hair draped spider-like over his forehead and so what would it matter? He dropped the two hundred gold from a velvet blue pouch. "Harry Potter at your service."
He grabbed his packages and left just as he heard a gasp and then a thud and chuckled quietly, knowing that she had fainted.
He left the Magical World and reentered the Muggle as he began to think about his former life. He didn't really know how he felt toward anyone and so he would wait before he made any moves. He would watch very carefully how everyone treated him when they saw him again, Dumbledore included.
Right now, he only felt bitter and no vengeance unless an indiscretion caused him to feel such. He really truly had no thoughts about anyone at the moment. Not even Voldemort bothered him, for one the scar was gone and his memories were still foggy.
So, the man killed? He would be a hypocrite if he used that as a motive to despise a person. It was all up to them on where Harry would settle down. Personally, he would rather take no side and if he was forced, he would gladly do so. But if there were benefits for him, he would jump at one side or another.
He took a bus into the heart of London and found the shopping centre's that he'd been hunting for. Now, for some more shopping. He had a small black bag on his wrist where all his stuff from Diagon Alley rested and he found a shop that may have what he liked.
It was two hours later and had Harry been a human, he would have easily been exhausted. The women in the shop were insatiable the way they acted over him. He literally heard them fighting over who would help him.
It was almost eight when he appeared on Privet Drive; he was filled with deer, which was most definitely not his favourite.
He came into the sitting room to see his aunt holding a parchment filled letter and Uncle Vernon sitting beside her.
"Everything alright?" Harry asked putting on his sympathy mask.
"Your people wrote back, they'll be here in the morning."
A bitter sensation came over him and he wasn't entirely sure why but he nodded. "I'm sure they'll find them."
She told him swiftly that there was dinner for him in the refrigerator. He wrinkled his nose as he left to get it and dump it elsewhere. Funny, he thought darkly as he pulled it out. She was actually feeding him what would be half decent food if he could stand the sight of it.
He fed the chicken to Hedwig who had returned before dumping the rest of it down the toilet.
He spent the night rereading all his school books; he didn't want to dig into his new stuff yet. He wanted to save it because he knew he would get bored soon. He was dressed by six in the morning.
He had on some of what he bought in the Muggle World. A pair of dark denim jeans loosely fitting against his hips with a black belt and a hunter green blank t-shirt that stretched against his chest a bit and a thin black leather hip length jacket.
Harry realized after a second glance in the mirror that his scar missing was going to be a problem. He was happy that it was gone but what would Dumbledore say? How suspicious would he be? Harry thought of saying that he hid it underneath makeup but then he recalled Mad Eye Moody and that his ability at seeing through things.
Dammit! Harry stood stiff while trying to think but he got nowhere. After a bit he took Luna's necklace and clipped it around his neck. He would have to write her back and thank her.
The piece of jewelry felt warm and it sat like choker. He touched it and glanced over only to stare at his reflection. The magic in the necklace had restored his scar on his forehead, he brushed a finger across it marveling and wondering how Luna knew.
He wondered what else it did. The timing couldn't have been more perfect because three abnormal Magical Scents filtered through the room. He crossed and leaned out the window and saw over into the next street and the street after that. He had gotten used to all the smells around Privet Drive and he had even gotten used to his relatives blood.
He frowned. He knew them but he didn't know them. A shaggy brown-headed man with scars along his cheek and neck. He was wearing old clothes, tan khaki's and a brown sweater. The female of the group had long bright blue hair and she was small and fragile looking with tiny shoulders and he noticed before she even did that she was going to trip and when she did the dark skinned tall man with a gold earring snagged her by the elbow to keep her from smashing her face into the ground.
He pulled back and turned away trying to figure out who they were. The brown headed one seemed the most familiar. The closer they got the more potent they smelled and he was sent reeling back when a very horrible scent cast around him.
He could have actually coughed as he cringed minimally. What was it? It smelled like a dog.
His eyes widened and he nearly slapped his forehead.
Remus Lupin. His former teacher and a former friend of his parents and his godfather. He remembered now and he was also a werewolf.
Oh shit. He hadn't thought about the fact that a werewolf might be able to sense him.
He cursed again as he stood there trying to brace himself. His cover was going to be blown, he knew it would be.
He left the room and found Aunt Petunia doing what she'd done for the last few days of Dudley missing, cleaning. It was spick and span, she was dusting the frames and her eyes glittered when she stared at her beach ball son as a baby.
"They're here," Harry told her as she jumped having not heard him.
She practically dropped the duster as Harry opened the door and remained in the shade of the house.
"Harry!" Remus called but it sounded to Harry as though he were screaming.
"Hey guys," Harry said lowering his voice and trying to keep the strange musical quality that he'd developed out of it. Harry watched the woman trip again and resisted his reflexes in catching her.
"Tonks please walk straight," the black man said with a slight smile before approaching Harry. "How you doing Harry?" He was looking at Harry closely and noticed his change.
"Wow," the girl named Tonks said in awe. "You've changed Harry! Wotcher!"
"How did I change?" Harry asked eyeing a startled Remus who drew closer.
Tonks stared at him in a daze. Remus frowned slightly. "Where are your glasses?"
"Oh, I got Muggle contacts."
Remus stepped forward as if to hug him but Harry instinctively stepped back. "Come on in," he said walking further into the house to keep a distance between him and the werewolf. He was on edge and he was just waiting for the man to realize something was off on him.
"Aunt Petunia, they're here!"
Tonks was staring at him from the doorway. "Man, Harry, you've grown up!"
Harry flashed her a smile which made her actually blush. It was nice that she recognized him so easily; he wished he could say the same for her. He definitely didn't recognize the black guy, he was familiar but in a very vague way and he knew that once the fog left his mind, he'd know who they were. But they were obviously not very significant in his prior life. They had been just there.
His aunt had gone upstairs to get refreshed and came down and smiled in a strained way.
"Mrs. Dursley," Remus stepped forward holding out his name. He shot Harry a curious look briefly. "I'd like to formally introduce you to Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks who prefers Tonks. The two of them are Aurors or what you guys would consider police officers."
Tonks waggled her fingers. "We'll do all we can to help you find your son. Do you have a picture of him?"
With their names came flashes of memories once more and an old creaky house and a Hall filled with strange silver orbs. He saw a fight break out and Tonks and Kingsley had been a part of that fight. It was the Hall of Prophecy and the end of his godfather's life.
He knew that much.
Aunt Petunia had a million pictures and she went through them all for an hour while the wizards stood around her all of them asking questions. Harry leaned his shoulder against the threshold of the living room and tried to remain as human as possible by twitching things.
Remus kept casting him glances but he didn't look the wolf in the face.
Remus seemed to get some courage for he came over to Harry. "How are you doing, Harry?" he asked concerned and he realized that Remus must be in pain from Sirius.
Harry didn't feel pain and he was a little sad to say that while he had cared about Sirius, remembering the man was kind of hard. He was vague like everyone else.
"I'm doing well, Remus," Harry said with a nod. "What about you?"
"I'm getting by," Remus said with a slight smile. "I – can't help but notice…."
"What?" Harry asked.
"You, smell different."
"Cologne?" Harry tried.
Laughing, Remus scratched the back of his head. "I guess so, but I'm not sure. Your scent is muffled like you've disguised it. But you smell good, too good."
Harry chuckled. "I don't swing that way," he teased causing the wolf to choke and blush.
Tonks who heard giggled furiously.
"No, no! I didn't mean it that way," he stammered.
"Calm down, Moony," he chided before he could think of why he said the name. "I'm trying to lighten you up, damn."
"Yeah, Remus! I've told you so many times to lighten up," Tonks said grinning.
"Sorry," Remus said sheepishly.
"So, what's going on in our world?" Harry asked and it was then that both Remus and Tonks went quiet. Harry arched an eyebrow and waited patiently as they exchanged glances as if trying to convey their thoughts without speaking in front of him.
This was beginning to look bad, for them.
"Nothing much," Tonks said smiling falsely.
"Besides getting a new Minister who doesn't really see eye to eye with Dumbledore that's all we can say."
"Right," Harry said stiffly.
"Harry, we're trying to protect you," Tonks said cheerfully. "You're very important."
Important? For what? Harry wondered bitterly. He frowned at the both of them and they flinched at it while Kingsley left his aunt's side. "I believe we should use our Point Me Charms. This shouldn't be too hard."
"Alright!" Tonks said breathing out in relief. He could hear her heart literally racing and Remus' had also picked up in tempo. His blood was a rush and it was kind of nauseating to be honest.
"Why won't you tell me?" Harry then asked pushing off the wall and blocked their exit and stared right into Remus' eyes hard. "You forgot to tell me the truth last year and look what happened, what is going on in our world?" He all but demanded. "What the hell is Voldemort doing?" he asked as Tonks flinched violently.
"Harry –" Remus began softly.
"Harry, trust us," Kingsley insisted. "We can't say anything right now, Dumbledore has asked us to be as discreet as possible and I'm sure once we are in more secure company we will be able to talk about everything more openly."
"More secure? They're just muggles, they don't know anything and Voldemort can't show up here considering the blood wards."
"Harry, please," Remus said slowly reaching out to touch his arm but Harry evaded it slowly. "Just trust us and stay safe and in the house. Don't go outside."
"That's all you're going to tell me?" Harry asked darkly.
"That's all we can tell you, Harry," Tonks said sadly. "I'm sorry, but this is Dumbledore's orders. We were told not to say a word when we arrived."
Harry stared at each of them and his eyes hardened into ice when he locked on Remus who had the decency to avert his gaze.
"That's how it is, hm. You may leave." He turned and left ignoring Remus' sudden call to come back.
Now, Harry Potter was angry.
oOo
He sat on the rooftop of Privet Drive and gazed into the dark sky. The stars couldn't be seen due to the lamps dotting the street but it was comfortable enough. His mind was filled with endless questions as to why Remus and Tonks wouldn't talk to him. They wouldn't even say what Voldemort was doing.
Why? What were they worried about? He began to burn with anger and he felt that they were deceiving him with their smiles. How important was he? He remembered all about the boy-who-lived shit and if that was what it was then they could find themselves a new important person because Harry most certainly wasn't going to fight for them if they were acting like this.
No one on that side had showed their worth yet. His old friends were just that, old and he wondered if they would accept him if they knew what he was? If they knew what he had become? He didn't know but he honestly didn't care.
He reached out and pulled the book to him. He didn't really need light; he could see the words jumping out of the pages perfectly and read silently into the night.
It was exactly two days later when the wizards found the remains of both Dudley and the no-named man buried ten miles away.
Kingsley had broken the news gently and Harry was standing there with a troubled look fixed perfectly on his face.
Tonks was rubbing her back and Vernon was staring at the TV white as a sheet.
"This doesn't look like anything more than a normal murder," Kingsley explained. "Did your son have any enemies?"
"No!" Aunt Petunia sobbed. "Never, he was a good boy. He was a sweet and kind boy."
Harry snorted too low for anyone to hear including Remus. If Harry had ever heard a rose tinted lie it was that right there.
"We have contacted your authorities so that they may do their own search, considering I do not believe anyone from our side would have done this."
"Are you sure?" Aunt Petunia asked.
Remus frowned. "They put too much work into the death to be the work of a witch or a wizard," he insisted. "I do not want to give you the details of how we found your son, not yet. You need to grieve without anymore images being conjured up in your mind."
The three of them left with hardly a word to Harry and even when he asked if he was leaving the Dursleys or not they ignored it and pretended he hadn't spoken.
This incensed Harry and made him so angry that he longed to run his hands through the walls of his room. Did they really think they could do this to him? Were they that confident of his loyalties? Hah! What would they do if they knew exactly how Dudley had been murdered. If they knew that Harry drained him and then carelessly threw him in a fire and watched him burn.
His eyes were alight and narrowed; he was glaring at nothing and yet at everything in his mind at the same time. What were they trying to prove?
Harry decided to write a letter in laymen terms, expressing that if they weren't truthful with him then he was leaving Privet Drive.
He sent it off with Hedwig and gripped the sill of the window. Those people better watch it because Harry didn't care anymore. He wasn't a wizard and all be damned if they believed he could be walked on.