Chapter 5, and Harry meets the parents...his parents.
Chapter V- Yes, this is a family, really
"Fear me not," said Harry dully. " 'tis just me, your kidnapee."
Lily Potter hurried next to him. She must have been whom James had been talking to upstairs.
"Harry? Oh, it really is you!"
"Yeah, it's me," said Harry, standing up, shrinking his staff and tucking it into a pocket. "Nice catching up, but must go. Maybe I'll go to Germany, great place, if you don't mention the war. Goodbye now!" Harry pivoted on his heel and sprinted to the door.
"No!" A locking spell shot past Harry and hit the door. Harry glanced back at the couple and saw Lily standing with her wand out. James stood next to her, clutching Harry's backpack that had been left in Diagon Alley when he unexpectedly was Portkeyed away (or kidnapped).
Regretfully, Harry decided to consider his belongings as lost, and simply placed his hand on the doorknob, letting his magic unlock it. He pulled the door open and jumped out, running straight into a tall old man, getting a mouthful of gray hair from the man's long beard.
"Argh! Ergh! That's disgusting!" Frantically, Harry wiped his tongue with his hand, attempting to rid himself of both the taste and the hair, while he tried to shove past the old man.
Sadly, his great escape was interrupted by a pair of strong arms wrapping around his torso, pinning his arms.
"Harry, please listen, we-" Ah, so it was his father who was holding him, Harry realised.
Harry grabbed James' wrists – as his arms were still free below his elbows- and lifted up his feet, and James was now holding Harry's whole weight, and stumbled slightly. Harry planted his feet on his father's legs, and propelled himself forwards and up- while still holding his father's wrists.
This ended with Harry flipping over James' arms, and sending the unfortunate older Potter into a face plant on the red carpet.
Third time lucky perhaps?
For a third time, Harry failed in getting away. He was struck by three full body-bind curses, simultaneously. While two were average power, one was certainly more powerful then the spell should be.
It only took fifteen seconds for Harry's own magic to combat the foreign influence so he could recover from the curses, but five seconds too later, for within ten seconds of Harry's body-binding situation, the house was locked down with the power of wards that generations of Potters had donated to.
As well as that, two wizards and a witch had their wands raised, carefully aiming at him, and two stunned teenagers were watching the scene from the safety of the stairs, looking over the rail at the event.
Harry easily recognised the two. The male was his fraternal-but-still-looks-pretty-damn-similar twin brother, the famous Hayden Potter. The female- well, he didn't particularly recognise her -even though he knew who she was- seeing as she was two when he 'disappeared'. Oriana was now a charming red-haired, emerald-eyed thirteen-year-old.
Harry let his eyes linger on his siblings, before they found themselves meeting pairs of blue, green and brown eyes.
One of James' hands was covering his face, holding his bleeding nose from receiving a face plant into the floor, so it was a little hard for Harry to guess what he was thinking.
Although Harry knew what his own thoughts were. 'Hah! Broke your nose!'
The old man- Albus Dumbledore, if Harry remembered correctly- looked like a child in a sweet shop with ninety-nine percent off. Lily was torn between grief and joy, thus astounding Harry, who was still wondering how it was possible to portray conflicting emotions at the same time, as well as why she would be in grief, unless James getting slammed into the floor was much more emotional then it seemed.
"Well..." said Harry, lightly, casually slipping his hand into his pocket, and removing a small object.
The adults tensed, especially as the object expanded to form a staff. Harry casually spun his arm around, twirling the staff, before pointing it at the three.
"This is interesting, isn't it? Now how about you explain why you seem so insistent on me coming here, especially when..." Harry tapped his chin with his staff. "Ah, now I remember. The last words you ever said to me... 'We don't need you to be here.' Did I really get into so much trouble for obeying?"
Lily and James looked distraught, and Harry allowed himself a small smile, as the beats of war-drums sounded in his ears...
That was it, Harry decided. When he died, and if there was some higher deity or god, Harry was going to spit in his (or her) face and demand why the hell had he received such a screwed up life.
Harry was a fully trained Elumvian fighter, and if he did say so himself, very well-trained, better than most of the Elumvians close to his age. Harry supposed if he had actually fully committed himself to doing so, he would have found a way to escape. But that was Harry's problem- he didn't understand whether he should get away.
The Elumvians had been more caring then the Potters, certainly, and had practically adopted him into their society, but maybe...maybe, just maybe what Harry truly wanted was his real family. Maybe his family had changed over the past eleven years, as he had done.
He shuddered at those warm feelings he was getting. Then again, maybe he should leave, and see if he could find a job as a mercenary somewhere, after all, the war-drums hadn't been getting quieter in his ears recently.
He snorted. Some warrior he was. He was fully trained, but had no real experience in the field. The most unusual thing about him being a warrior was that he had never even killed, but then again, many Elumvians lived never having to kill, as they were never attacked. However, Harry was unusually aggressive as a fighter, and he blamed the war-drums currently sounding in his mind. He had no idea why he could always hear them, but they were very useful to meditate to.
He could have been gaining experience, rather than wasting time with all this nonsense.Although, Harry was naturally eager to learn more magic, and still wanted to see what this whole lark was about. If it was useless, he'd just leave- or run away, as the case would seem.
Harry glanced at the clock that hung on the wall, and was mildly surprised to see it a few minutes past midnight. He had been captured somewhere past eight, and then had to spend the next six hours 'negotiating' with Dumbledore and his parents, the only break for lunch.
Captured- that reminded him; he had shrunk down his battle-armour and placed it in his pack. Had he been smart enough to wear it, there would have been no trouble in escaping, the Body-Bind curses would have failed, and he would have escaped before the lock-down.
Basically, what they said was that Harry had no chance of emancipation, seeing as he very recently became sixteen, and that both his parents were alive –and were comfortably well-off, money meant everything in the wizarding world...as it did in the Muggle world- and he had no source of income. As well as that, he had to pass these stupid "OWLs" and to be legally registered as a wizard, and be at least seventeen to legally perform magic outside of school. And then, there would be even more tests, called "NEWTs", if he wanted to stand any chance of getting a decent job and be able to financially support himself as an adult.
Basically, if Harry was to ever get away from his parents- he had to stay with them for a month, and then go to boarding school with his siblings at September.
OWLs. NEWTs. What moron came up with those names? Ordinary Wizarding Levels? Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests? Nastily Exhausting? How old was this moron?
And as Harry quoted Dumbledorius, 1996 AD, he hadn't felt like 'mingling and catching up on old times,' so had retreated with dignity to his old room, locking the door behind him, intent on seeing as little of his family.
Amazing how fast time flies when you have been sitting on a bed staring at the walls.
Finally tired, Harry lay back, arms behind his head, and gradually fell asleep.
Harry breathed out, as well as he could in his situation.
He was currently upside-down, completely supported by his arms, which once would have buckled under his weight, but were now supporting his body with only the occasional tremble.
Harry glanced at the clock, and as strange as it looked upside-down, he noted it was ten. Harry breathed in relief and self-righted himself.
For the last two hours, he had been working out, as a sort of punishment for his accursed body clock to wake him at eight a.m., three hours late.
Three hours late. Disgraceful. That completely disrupted his schedule.
Harry was currently not wearing any shirt, displaying his sweating body, and quite fortunate that he had done so, as his shirt would be covered with sweat.
In other words, he was sweating like a pig as it realised it was about to get the chop. He grabbed a towel and some clean clothes, and left the room, heading for the bathroom for his daily shower- admittedly two hours and fifteen minutes later then he usually would have done.
Harry entered the bathroom, locking the door, and like a stereotypical male teenager, pulled off his sweat-covered clothes and tossed them in a pile on the floor, and his clean clothes in another pile. He climbed into the shower and breathed out as the hot water hit his body.
Harry closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the water, and unsurprisingly, he heard war-drums again. Maybe he had some sort of psychological problem that caused him to obsess with war- that could be it. Any explanation to get those drums out his head.
A few moments later, there was a knocking at the door, snapping him out of his state.
"Ori, get out! I have to meet my mates in an hour!"
Another voice sounded after this, fainter, probably because the person was further down the hall.
"I'm not in the bathroom Hayden, shut up! I'm trying to sleep!"
"At ten in the morning!? Get up already!"
"Hypocrite!" She scoffed. "Let me guess, you just got up five minutes ago!"
"Who the hell's in there, I gotta get ready! Mum? Dad?"
As amusing as it was to listen to Hayden, Harry finished his shower and quickly dried himself, and changed into his clean clothes, tying on his bandana last . He gathered up his towel and dirty clothes and tossed them into a laundry hamper. He'd collect them later and use the cleaning clothes charm on them...
"Hello?!" Hayden yelled. "Hurry up-!"
He was cut off as Harry unlocked and opened the door, and the brothers properly saw each other for the first time in eleven years.
Hayden was still gaping at him, blocking the doorway.
A small smirk played over Harry's face. Maybe...
Harry narrowed his eye, and reached into his pocket, as if ready to draw a weapon. Hayden stepped back, afraid- and if not, nervous at the least-, and Harry stepped forward.
Harry could almost hear his brother's heartbeat- and it was increasing- but now in the hallway, he could move past Hayden.
And he did so, saying over his shoulder: "Bathroom's all yours."
Harry continued across the hallway, hearing the door slam behind him. He waited a few moments, before he leaned against the wall and chuckled.
Hayden's reaction was near priceless. Harry made a mental note to put the fear of the devil into his brother before the month was up. Maybe he should let Hayden stumble upon him with blood dripping from his mouth- or raw meat, but that would be quite disgusting to put in his mouth.
Harry stretched his arms lazily before folding them over his chest as he leant against the wall, wondering he should do, but was saved the trouble as he heard someone clearing their throat.
He turned and found himself less than a metre away from his sister, Oriana.
Harry stared at his sister in silence, raising an eyebrow inquiringly, obviously to mean to ask why had Oriana cleared her throat.
Oriana certainly looked nervous- Harry's appearance didn't seem to be too friendly, long unkempt black hair, harsh emerald eyes, and a hardened face- and as she shifted her weight between her feet, not making eye-contact with him.
"Um...are you doing anything?"
Harry didn't say anything, only putting an expression on his face that clearly stated: "Does it look like I'm doing anything?"
Oriana blushed, either from being nervous or embarrassment. "Erm...never mind then...I was just going to have breakfast...so I'll, uh...bye!" She added hastily, walking past Harry to the staircase, but she was stopped by the sound of Harry's voice.
"Hm...what are we allowed to eat?" said Harry, approaching her. "It would be...awkward...to go through someone else's property."
The red-headed girl opened her mouth as she turned to face her long-lost brother, but closed it as she thought over her words. "...You know, I think that it would be your property as well."
Harry didn't answer, and only continue staring at her.
"Mum usually makes breakfast," said Oriana, breaking eye-contact. "But, I suppose...yeah, fine, I'll show how the kitchen works."
Oriana began going down the stairs. Harry waited for a few moments, listening, before he followed.
Harry had heard Hayden's voice as the "Boy-Who-Lived" was in the shower. And since the Elumvians opened their culture to include popular Muggle culture as well, he had recognised the tune- and lyrics from Hayden's warbling voice.
Harry shuddered. That was certainly, the worst ever rendition he had ever heard of Iron Maiden's "Run To The Hills."
"...and that's it for the kitchen." Oriana finished with a nod. The girl had lost her nervousness around her brother- or at least some of it- as she had been pulling open cupboards and drawers to show Harry where everything was located in the Potter kitchen.
"I think Mum was going to make waffles, but she and Dad had to go to some urgent meeting. ...They've been having quite a lot of those lately..."
Harry looked through the fridge, but could find nothing to have for breakfast save making sandwiches or having muffins, but at another look at the packet, he realised the words "expiry date" meant very little to the Potter Family.
He looked over at the kitchen counter, where there was a bowl of waffle batter and a waffle maker left idly. Harry had to admit, waffles did sound good. Or pancakes. Or maybe muffins. Or brownies. He hadn't tasted those in a long time...
Harry glanced over at Oriana.
"Hey, don't look at me! I mean, I would attempt to make the waffles, but I'd prefer it if my hair didn't literally become "fiery red"." She grinned at her brother, yanking gently on her dark red hair.
"...You want me to help you make them, don't you?" said Harry.
Oriana pouted. "Was it really that obvious?"
The two attempted to make the waffles, but did so very badly. Harry was unfamiliar with cooking, save basic things that he learnt on the Ehnyware Isles, and that was all survival skills in the wilderness. Oriana was either playing around, or really that bad with cooking.
Harry wouldn't be surprised if Oriana was incapable of boiling water without it catching on fire. Water, catching on fire.
Harry idly watched steam rise from the waffle-maker, and made a mental note to tell the uh, parents to buy some ready-made waffles next time. Or maybe brownies. Harry's thoughts strayed, until they came across a fairly recent memory.
"Are you so distracted, Harry?"
Two wooden staffs smashed against each other, their owners striking and parrying furiously, not even attempting to jump out of range, for the temporary lapse in their guard it would bring.
"No, why-damnit!" cursed Harry, wincing slightly as he backed away, his left arm hit hard with a heavy staff by his opponent, teacher and father-figure, Master Kain. "Why would I be, Master?"
"Oh, I don't know why," said Master Kain, before pressing his advantage on Harry. "Maybe, just maybe, something to do with that the day that will mark your sixteenth year alive approaches. Are you...worried about the future, my boy?"
"Worried? Me? No. Unsettled, yes. Slightly troubled, yes. But worried, no. I mean-damn!" exclaimed Harry, as Kain's staff smashed against his knee. He responded with a quick jab at Kain's chest, which was dodged. "After all, Master, it's near to eleven years. I was five. Maybe I mistook an incident. An mistake which admittedly brought me thousands of miles away to a very well hidden, warded islands containing a society of part elf, part humans, but-"
Harry cut himself off as Master Kain raised his hand.
"It was not a mere mistake, my boy. I have seen your memories. I felt what you felt. You may have mistaken some things, but it was more than incident, my boy."
Harry lowered his head, and fell out of his stance.
"You were wronged by many. By your parents, and by everyone else. They expected too much of you. Some tried to use you. You were wronged for an event beyond your control. My boy, how would your brother surviving a deadly curse make him a better person? In fact...how do even know it was your brother and not you who was hit by that spell?"
Harry shrugged. "They didn't just wander in there and pick who got hit by flipping a coin. Master Kain, they had teams of investigator, and Hayden's the one with that scar on his palm.
"To my knowledge, you also received a scar as well."
Harry shrugged again. "The whole room was collapsing. Probably some rubble scratched my head."
Master Kain sighed deeply. "My boy, I wish you did not think so lowly of yourself. Many of us have tried to rid you of your low self-esteem, Harry, and although we have made progress, you always switch back into a mood every once in a while. Old habits die hard, you once told me. Break the habit. Your sixteenth birthday approaches, and I won't be able to guide you anymore. I trust you to make your own decisions..."
"It'll be...difficult."
"Harry, I know you saw me as a father figure. And I too saw a son in you, but that time has come to an end."
Harry nodded. "I'll change...father."
"Do well... son."
"Harry! It's burning!"
Harry snapped out of his memories, rushing to open the waffle maker and save the waffle so it could be devoured later. It had burnt a little around the edges...but it was fine.
Honestly, look at him. A warrior like him, saving waffles. He'd have to do three hours of training tomorrow.
He placed the waffle on a plate, and turned to the table, only to see Oriana eating from the plate the other edible waffles had been placed on. And there weren't many of them. It was still stunning how poor a cooker Oriana was.
Oriana caught Harry's riveting stare and shrugged sheepishly. "Er...ladies first?" she explained nervously.
"Age before beauty, dear sister, age before beauty," Harry calmly stated, seizing one waffle and devouring it in a matter of seconds.
"A few years don't count!" protested Oriana.
The almost peaceful breakfast was then broken up again as a door slammed open.
"Argh! Ori, you didn't try cooking again, did'ya?! The place smells like dragon turds!"
Harry looked up and caught the eye of Hayden Potter.
What way would be best to terrify him?
And there you have it. Harry already different from the original Harry in Invisibly Jaded.
As for Iron Maiden, well, I'm a bit of a fan, even though Run to the Hills (and all the other songs I listen to by them) came out before I was born.
And finally, yes. Brownies rule.