CHAPTER 4

"Please step into the circle," commanded the goblin on a pedestal in the centre of the room, which was simple grey stone lit brightly with candles that were placed at even intervals. Remy and Harry stepped forward, feeling the tingle of magic begin to permeate the room.

"Do you have anything in your genes that is hereditary, Adopter?" questioned the goblin. Remy nodded.

"De X-Gene be inherited, Master Goblin."

"What level mutant are you, Adopter?"

"Alpha, Master Goblin."

"Adoptee," the goblin turned to Harry, "are you prepared to become a mutant in being adopted by this individual?"

Harry nodded determinedly.

The goblin held out a dagger and a bowl filled with a translucent, cloudy liquid. Both items were covered in delicate runes.

"Adoptee," he faced Harry, "slide this blade through the palm of your dominant hand and allow the blood to drip into the bowl."

Harry took the blade, which was shining in the candlelight, and sliced his right palm. He made no noise to show his discomfort, though his right eyes twitched slightly. Holding his hand over the small bowl, Harry watched his blood drip into the water. Instead of turning deep red, like they expected, however, it turned sky blue. The goblin handed him a white cloth to put over the bleeding wound.

"Adopter," the goblin turned to Remy, moving the bowl and pulling out a different dagger, "please slide this blade over the palm of your dominant hand and allow the blood to drip into the bowl."

Remy, although sceptical, copied Harry and slit his right hand, wincing at the sharp sting. His blood dripped into the blue water and turned it into a deep purple.

"Adoptee," the goblin turned back to Harry, "please repeat after me:

"Magia mea invocavi sanguine corpus mutare. Et in ea sanguis meus a patre me mutat mutari. Hae mutationes in vita mea accipio. Sic ergo, sic fiat."

Harry dutifully repeated what he had said.

"Adopter," the goblin turned to face Remy, who panicked because of his accent, "please repeat after me:

"Te invoco magicis meis, ut ligaretur pannis, socii sanguinis. Sit nobis, familia ad finem. Sic ergo, sic fiat."

Remy repeated it, surprised at his suddenly 'normal' voice.

"Please drink from the bowl," instructed the goblin, "adoptee first."

Harry shrugged, grabbing the bowl and drinking half of the liquid. He was surprised when it tasted of treacle tart. Handing it over to Remy, he watched his eyebrows rise at the taste. Almost as soon as the bowl was empty, Harry dropped to the ground screaming. The pain was incredible. It felt like everything inside of him was being ripped out and rearranged.

"R-Remy!" he yelped through the miasma of fire surrounding his body. Remy moved to help him, to comfort him – anything! – but the firm grip of the goblin prevented him.

"If you touch him then he will die," the goblin warned, "his body and magic are changing to accept your DNA and the mutation."

"How long will dis take?" demanded Remy; he hated seeing Harry hurting.

"It is different for everyone," the goblin explained, seeming to take pity on the panicking mutant, "although most seem to take about twenty minutes."

Remy sat back and waited. Ten minutes passed, and then twenty, and Harry was still writhing on the floor like he was having a seizure. Time stretched on; thirty minutes, forty minutes, and Harry wasn't stopping.

Finally, after 55 minutes, Harry stopped thrashing around and his breathing evened out.

"You may go to him now," the goblin told Remy. Instantly, he was at Harry's side, pulling him into a hug and checking him over for physical changes. He was surprised at how different Harry looked.

He was definitely taller, and wasn't as skinny. His hair was neater, and slightly lighter in colour. It looked very similar to Remy's, although it had a red hue that was probably from his mother. His skin was more tan, less of a sickly, moon-like colour, and his fingers were long and thin, delicate yet strong looking. His nose, mouth and eye-shape stayed the same, but Remy couldn't see his eyes yet.

"Will his mutation be de same as mine?" he asked the goblin, who shrugged.

"Maybe, maybe not," he answered, "if he didn't have the X-Gene before, then yes, but if it was dormant, then the addition of yours will have merely awoken what was already there, although it may have influenced it slightly. For example, if you were a shapeshifter and he was a dormant telekinetic, his ability would change so that he could shape other objects with his mind. Understand?"

"Oui, I understand dat," Remy answered. Their conversation was cut short as Harry groaned, shifting in Remy's arms.

"Anyone catch the plates on the bus that hit me?" he moaned, "'Cause I'm suing."

Remy laughed.

"Yo' alright, cheri?" he asked. Harry nodded.

"I think so," he answered, "that was worse than the Cruciatus, though; I don't wanna do it again."

"You can't," the goblin interrupted, "it was recorded that Harry James Potter and Remy Etienne Lebeau underwent a Blood Adoption ritual, and neither of you will be allowed to participate in another again. It would unbalance the magic and you'd be torn apart."

"Could we change my name, Master Goblin?" asked Harry.

"Of course, sir. If you would bother follow me?"

Harry stood, surprised to find that he didn't need his glasses and that the ground was further away. The clothes that he was wearing were also tighter; they belonged to Remy, and weren't too big anymore. In other words, Harry noticed that he'd grown. A lot.

Light brown strands fell in his eyes, and his hair brushed over his neck, tickling him. He looked to Remy, locking eyes with him. The mutant froze.

"Remy?" he asked cautiously. The mutant blinked.

Inside, Remy was dying. Harry's eyes had remained green, but were ringed in black, and his left eye had the bottom left quarter completely crimson. It looked like a piece of Remy had settled into Harry.

"Yo' eyes," he breathed. Harry furrowed his eyebrows and attempted to conjure a mirror. He was surprised that his magic flowed so smoothly. Looking the mirror he was stunned. He was surprised at the changes, but quite happy with his new look; he looked like Remy.

"Are you coming or not?" the goblin called from a small room down the hall. They hurried to catch up.

The goblin was waiting for them, several sheets of paper, a fountain pen and another dagger on the desk in front of him.

"Take a seat, please," he said. They obliged, sitting in the comfortable chairs. The goblin slid the papers over the table, and handed the dagger to Harry.

"Prick your finger and allow the blood to drip onto the paper. Harry did so, watching as his blood was absorbed and crimson ink began to write on the page.

Birth Name: Harry James Potter

Birth Father: James Charlus Potter (deceased)

Birth Mother: Liliana Grace Potter (nee Evans) (deceased)

Birth Date: 31st July 1980

School: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Scotland)

Adoptive Name:

Adoptive Parent(s):

School:

Harry looked at the paper in wonder. It was just like a DNA test. The last line confused him though.

"Why is there a space under the adoptive section labelled 'school'?" he asked. The goblin looked at the page before answering.

"I'm assuming that neither of you are happy with your current schooling arrangements?" he asked. Both Harry and Remy shook their heads.

"Then that space is there for you to change his school if you wish. If not, you can just leave it blank."

"T'ank you, Master Goblin," said Remy sincerely. He was already planning on moving Harry from Hogwarts to Professor X's institute after the Adoption; this just made it easier.

"You're welcome, Mister LeBeau," answered the goblin, handing over the pen, "if you could just fill this out, then we'll be done and it will be irreversible. I'll leave you to discuss your decision."

The goblin exited the room, leaving the two of them alone. Remy quickly wrote down his name on the 'Adoptive Parent' line.

"What should my name be?" asked Harry.

"Alexandre," answered Remy immediately, before blushing and looking down, "I always say dat I'd name a son o' mine Alexandre. Yo' can pick de middle name, if yo' want."

"Remy," Harry mumbled.

"Oui, cheri?" he responded.

"No, I mean I want my middle name to be Remy, if that's ok with you," the teen blushed. Remy smiled; it touched his heart.

"O' course; dat be fine wit' me."

Harry smiled, but it dropped quickly.

"What about school?" he asked glumly, "I won't go back to Hogwarts, but I can't go to a mundane school with my eyes; I know about human-mutant discrimination. I-"

"Calm, cheri," Remy interrupted, "dere be a mutant school right here in New York. Dey be acceptin' any wit' new abilities an' helpin' 'em wit' dere control. Dat be ok wit' yo', cheri?"

Harry smiled.

"That's perfect," he said. The both signed off on the paper, retrieved Harry's – now Alexandre's – card and left, disappearing into the world.