Chapter Two
The Boy Who Hid From Death
The battle was already over before it began. This was probably because Harry had planned for something like this to happen. The teen knew that others would not just stand by and let potential prey, Lily, just slip away. "Someone that was both small and completely harmless," he muttered darkly, but loudly enough for Andromeda to catch.
To make matters worse, she was also his mother. Of course they don't know that. It would be best if it stayed that way
The teen turned around to face the people in front of him, ignoring the throbbing pain in his back from where the hex hit. Though it could be worse, had the Hallow not protected me.
Harry had only brought three things with him when he woke up, the clothes on his back, his wand, of course, and his Invisibility Cloak that was next to him when he was killed. The boy had to return to where he landed in order to find the cloak, and fortunately no one had taken it while he was off saving Orion.
It didn't take long to track it down, since he knew exactly where he fell when he was transported to this world, and the Cloak of Invisibility, his last token of his father, was not far. The boy had wept when he found it on that rainy day, while Orion stood to the side in the corner of Grimmauld Place looking at the scene with utter amazement.
Dumbledore had once told him the cloak was immune to all manors of dark spells, however the user was not. Harry had been paralyzed before in the past while wearing the cloak. However if the enemy did not know there was the cloak hidden underneath his clothes that was different altogether. Theoritically the spell would be aimed at the boy, however the cloak would happen to be in the way, acting as a shield between the curse and the wearer. For this absolute defense to work no one must ever be aware of the Deathly Hallows existance. The Hallows, the Hallows, a foolish man's dream.
"Impossible!" The others, Slytherins, in the room wondered why the attack did not affect him. There was no way that this teenager, who was only two or three years older than they themselves were, could sustain such an attack, without looking like it damaged him at all.
"Malfoy, you sure there wasn't a flaw in your spell?" Lestrange asked. That particular curse was designed to paralyze the opponent and it had a high probability of working. It was a standard Auror spell, even. Too bad he wasn't aware that was he was really aiming at was Ignotus's Hallow.
"I am not a fool, Lestrange. What do you take me for?" In all honesty, he didn't look completely convinced, seeing the tall Potter take ominous steps towards them. "Surely the curse worked!" Or it would have worked, had the teenager not hidden the Deathly Hallow, the Invisibility Cloak underneath his clothes.
Potter realized that not being protected against dark curses could kill him. "Especially at this time in my life," he sighed, stepping closer to the other green-clad children, who looked at him with fear. He was in a strange place with no friends. "But that's not even the worst part." The people who were his friends, right now, could turn around and backstab him later on.
At least he wouldn't have to worry about his mother right this instant because she was away, far away. He walked closer to the group; the opponents in front of him were going to be in a world of pain within a few minutes because nobody, absolutely nobody, harmed anyone precious to him, when he was around. "Try it again," he said. He didn't smile. "Do it again." His eyes narrowed. "See what happens."
The first attack came just as expected, although he did not expect it from one of the girls that he was sitting beside, only a few minutes ago. Sure, he knew that Bellatrix would someday be a horrible person, but at this point in her life she was only a teen, lost and confused. All of them were in that tender age. An angry teen. But how could she do such a thing? Especially to another girl her age, or younger.
Harry repelled the attack with a shield and backed away as more curses flew in his direction. "Don't let him get a chance to strike, he isn't a novice," Malfoy's voice echoed.
Harry wrapped himself further in the cloak with his Deathly Hallow hidden slowly forced a large blast through his wand sending everybody, including Andromeda and Narcissa, toppling into the wall at such a close range. "Too much," he sighed, seeing their state and feeling upset that he had to hurt the two girls.
With another flick of his wand, he sent a ray of binding spells. "Shouldn't have used so much force," he told them, apologizing to Narcissa and Andromeda, watching as their eyes grew larger. "But you didn't leave me much of a choice." He put his wand back in his pocket.
Seeing how some of the guys there were glancing at Bellatrix, who was paralyzed as well, the dark-haired youth shook his head. "How long have you been waiting to do this? Was this all just a setup? I would think you'd be much better prepared than that."
He stopped over the paralyzed form of Rodolphus and looked down, his serpent-green eyes zeroing in on the dark-haired Black. "Especially, since you've gotten to know me over the past few weeks." He knelt down to look the black haired girl in the eyes. Despite her intentions, she had innocent eyes, not yet experienced in seeing the cruelty of the world.
"I'm disappointed in you. I should've guessed this was your plan." The girl turned away; she did not want to look into his green glare, not when his eyes flashed for a second. Bellatrix was afraid, and for a moment she almost saw the power to break into the minds of other people in his green gaze. "But that's impossible," she muttered.
The reality was that he did have that special power, Legilimency. However it happened by complete accident when Snape was teaching him in his Fifth Year. It was a terrifying ability. The ability to see into a person's mind; however he only did it once, and that was only to a certain person who was in the room.
He turned his head in the direction of that person in particular. "You! I should've known you would do this. Despite the idiocy of it all! From what I have heard about you, you're a half-blood." Snape's eyes flashed with venom. He didn't like being reminded how different he was from his group. "I'm not even sure why you would ally yourself with this." Harry gestured vaguely toward Lucius, who was paralyzed on the wall, not from a stunner, but something just as effective- struggling to get free.
Potter shook his head, he would have to cancel the spell soon; otherwise it would cancel itself. If he did not look like he had full control of his spells, there would be trouble. "I'll free you all in a moment." He stood up straight, head lowered in shame, and walked out of the compartment. "After I take a stroll." His lips moved, and he smiled slightly. "There are people here I wish to meet- no, I have to meet." Harry smiled, and closed the door. He chuckled as a group of Gryffindors was about to enter the compartment when he just left.
"Oi, what happened here?" Too bad for the group that the Gryffindors just happened to be muggleborn fist years. "Someone get that magical camera."
Harry walked into the latest compartment, after walking through six or seven already. His mother wasn't anywhere in sight and he only once caught a glimpse of anyone mildly familiar. That was why he was in this particular spot.
"Is this seat taken?" he asked a large boy with bandages wrapped around his forehead. The taller boy shook his head and allowed the ebony-haired teen to take a seat. Harry saw that the boy's hair was dark, just like his own, and he was about the same age as well.
"Is this your seventh year?" The teen asked. The larger boy nodded, looking away from the window to take a glance at Harry for the first time.
"Well technically it's supposed to be my eight year, all things considered," the large boy replied. He had an angular face; hard and muscled, he was. There was a resemblance to a person that Harry just couldn't quite recall. "Need to get the last few NEWTs for Potions class before I can apply to the Auror Academy."
The realization struck him then. "Your last name isn't Longbottom, is it?" The Gryffindor looked puzzled for a moment, before smiling. "Of course, how did you know? My reputation does not precede me, does it?" He stood up and offered Harry his hand. Harry took it without hesitation. "Longbottom, Frank Longbottom, at your service." He did a small exaggerated bow and sat back down, leaning on the compartment chair. "These are supposed to be the final year compartments, you know, the ones in the front, but most of the seventh years aren't going to return this year."
"Why is that?" Harry sat down opposite Frank, while looking puzzled. "They need their NEWTS for Ministry jobs do they not?" Frank shrugged. "I mean a lot of jobs require the final year courses for apprenticeships, why would they risk not coming back for that?"
"Well as long as you have your OWLs you're all right, out here in England, and wait!" Frank pointed at Harry. "You're not from around here, are you?" Harry shook his head. Frank grimaced. "What! Then why didn't you say so? What's your name?"
Harry hesitated, but decided that this had to be gotten over with. This was the father of one of his best friends, he could trust him. Giving another wizard your name means a lot in the magical world, it always had and always will. Names have power, after all. "Potter." The rest of the words almost didn't come out. He scrunched his eyes, and breathed out. "Harry Potter, at your service," he said, the last part coming out friendly.
Frank looked startled. His eyes widened for about a fraction of a second and then narrowed. Then he grimaced, and, finally, breathed out a sigh of relief. "You can't be serious." Frank smiled coyly. "You don't honestly expect me to believe you're a Potter." Harry didn't look amused. "There are only three Potters alive: Charles, Doreah, and James." Frank pointed to himself. "I should know, James is my cousin." That didn't surprise Harry in the least; practically everyone in the wizarding world was a blood relative.
Frank finished off his small speech with a chuckle, he glanced at Harry, then smiled. "You almost had me there." He pointed his finger at the boy. "Really now, Harry Potter, ridiculous!" The angry Potter stood up from his seat and walked to the window. He stared at the scenery outside. Fortunately it was sunny, behind him there was a large shadow, that Frank was surprised to find looked enormous, as if the boy blotted out the sun.
"I'm not lying, my name's Harry Potter." His back was to Frank, who now looked murderous; his words were coming out vile.
"You can't be Harry Potter!" he said, annoyed this time. "This isn't a joke; you are claiming to be a Potter!"
He stormed behind the other teenager and turned him around, facing his angry snarl. "Listen to me, Uncle Charles doesn't have any bastards." Frank said this with utmost conviction. "Take back what you said, and I'll forget about this." Harry didn't look Frank in the eye, which made the larger boy even more furious, instead his green pupils wandered to the floor.
He should have expected something like this to happen. Not correcting Orion was a mistake, a terrible one at that. Yet if he were to tell anyone the truth, well, they would send him to Azkaban for sure. Time travel was against the law, and all those who hadn't destroyed themselves in the course of it were sent to spend the rest of their lives in the thrall of the Dementors.
"I didn't say I was a bastard," Harry said, pushing Frank away, who had his fist balled. "I'm just saying that's my name!"
Frank shook his head. "It's not that simple, there will be hell to pay for this, and don't think you won't have to face James Potter when you get to school. You've no idea what this means to their family. The trouble this could cause." Frank sat back on his chair. "You look too much like Gramps, hell, for a second I thought you were James… the moment you came in here, why do you think I didn't look at you?" He had a point. Frank didn't look all that amused, or even bothered by Harry when he first came into the compartment.
"You're going to do something about those scars?" Harry touched his face. "Madam Pomfry has a lot of healing salves." Frank tilted his head, examining him carefully. "Though I have a feeling that if you were to get rid of them, the resemblance between you and James…" He made a helpless gesture.
Before Harry could put in a word to defend himself, the door opened. "Frank, you should take a look at this! Someone just paralyzed Lucius and his trolls." It was the same girl Harry bumped into at school, Alice, and she was followed by another girl-
"Good afternoon, Prewitt," Harry said levelly, hoping his heart wouldn't burst from relief. Molly stopped in her tracks, hearing the boy's voice, and turned to face him, her face flushed. She hid behind Alice, who looked quizzically at the two, and then her eyes lit up with realization.
"You! I knew it! I knew you looked familiar!" The brown haired girl was up in Harry's face, taking up a lot of his personal space, if he was honest with himself. "You're that guy in the paper, that guy who Apparated into Flourish and Blotts and blasted the store!" Harry wanted to correct her that it was Carrow who did that. "Then you got your butt handed to you by Dolohov," she said.
"It was I who handed Dolohov his arse," Harry replied, feeling uncomfortable with where this conversation was going. If Frank looked at Harry with suspicion before, right now the bulky boy looked at Harry with rage. "I should have realized that the first time we met," she smiled.
"Alice! Why are you so close to him! Get away from that fake!" Frank practically shouted, he moved in to separate the girl from Harry, causing said girl to huff and glare at Frank. "Excuse me! I don't recall needing your permission to meet new people!"
"I think we should be getting changed soon," Molly interrupted, now a commanding voice coming out from her, a voice so familiar that it almost startled Harry. The shy redhead caught Harry's eye and looked away. So much like Ginny, but, well, mature.
Alice smiled, almost evilly, seeing her reaction. "No, go on. What were you going to say?" she slipped behind her larger friend and pushed her to Harry. Molly wailed as Harry caught her effortlessly, her large chest touching his bicep.
"Sorry," Harry said, feeling highly uncomfortable. She was young, but she didn't look young in his eyes. Molly's face flushed and she got out of the boy's grasp fairly quickly.
"N-no, it's okay," she replied.
"Intriguing," Alice said, stroking her chin, as if she had some kind of beard. "Most fascinating, Arthur is not going to like this." She grinned, rows of pearly white teeth shining. "But some competition might cause the guy to make a move."
"What move? What about Arthur? Alice, if you are bothering that kid, so help me," Frank warned. Alice just made a pacifist gesture, backing away from the giant of a man and closer to the thin Potter.
"Relax, troll, I am just trying to help the bugger. You wouldn't understand," she said. The short haired girl nudged Molly in the ribs, causing the Prewitt to awkwardly gasp at the impact. "It's a girl thing, eh?"
"Well as much as I would love to continue this conversation," Harry drawled, carrying his wand out of his pouch, "I have to go unfreeze some acquaintances."
"That was you!" Alice shouted. "You're the one who froze the sixth years in the compartment! Along with Narcissa, Dromeda, and Bellatrix!" Harry wondered why Alice would call Andromeda by her pet name, and filed that thought away for another time. "How did you manage to do that?"
Reflexes, Harry thought.
"Um, is Arthur there?' Molly asked, looking worried. "If you leave a paralyzed Lucius anywhere near him, I have a feeling he's not going to be able to stop himself. " Harry didn't think of that; he walked out of the compartment, leaving the small group of sixth and seventh years behind him.
He turned around before their door closed. "It was nice meeting you again, Molly." He paused, and shrugged. "You too, Alice."
"It was nice meeting you too, Harry!" Harry shook his head, wondering how Alice knew his name. "Molly thinks our encounter was especially nice." There was a clamor of noise at that instant, as Molly started screeching at her friend.
"What happened?" Bellatrix Black asked, seeing the world go fuzzy, and not for the first time that day. She looked around and saw she wasn't paralyzed any longer. "Cissy, Dromeda, where are you?" The brown eyed girl searched for her sisters among the small crowd of people lying frozen on the floor.
She spotted them talking to that Potter bastard. Literally, a bastard.
She scowled. "Get away from him!" she shouted. Her feet took her to where they were, and she glared up at Harry, causing the boy to sigh, she turned to face her younger sister. "Dromeda! I thought you were better than that!" She pointed to Narcissa, who had a flush on her face. "How could you let this guy stand near Cissy, we don't know anything about him!" She looked back at Harry. "I don't buy it! You just happened to save Uncle at that moment! How convenient, don't you think?"
Harry stepped over the girl, and unfroze the rest of the Slytherins. He almost laughed at how young a few of them looked. For a moment he wanted to kick Malfoy in the ribs, but opted not to. He may have been a prat, but the two of them would probably have to share the same house soon, though Harry hoped that the Sorting Hat might put him in Gryffindor.
Bellatrix kept going on about how much she did not like him in the background, causing her sisters to narrow their eyes at her, while Andromeda made vague yawning gestures.
After everyone in the compartment looked fine, Harry even took the time to check on a strange wound on Snape's shoulder.
They left, Lucius shaking his head, and one of the Lestrange brothers nursing a broken shoulder. Apparently some of the kids thought it was a good idea to use the larger boys as trampolines. "Miss Black, if you would be so kind as to not talk about me while I am standing here. I would most appreciate it." He cleared up the debris from the compartment with a cleaning spell, and opened a few of the windows. "What's that smell?" he asked.
"Gideon and Fabian were here," Narcissa sniffed, shaking her blond hair. "They released a few stink bombs. Apparently Lucius made a few quips about them last month." She pointed accusingly at Harry. "They knew who you were! This was your plan, wasn't it?" Blue eyes glared at the boy, followed by a pair of Bellatrix brown, and Andromeda aqua.
"I hardly know the Prewitt twins," Harry tried to explain, though something in his face made the occupants think otherwise. "Do you think someone like me would hang around guys like them?" Bellatrix did not look convinced and Andromeda laughed.
"No one mentioned they were twins," the blond reasoned. "They knew your name too! They like you!"
"Probably," Harry shrugged. "I am a likeable person." He ducked as Andromeda threw a comb his direction. "Hey, now! No need for that. I wasn't the one who decided to lock me up in a compartment with all your friends." The sudden uncomfortable silence returned. Harry used his wand to close the compartment door, and put a silencing spell on it. "Let's talk. The three of you have a problem with me. I want to know why."
"You're an imposter!" Bellatrix shouted, flipping her curly black hair over her shoulder, her larger-than-normal lips making venomous gestures. "There isn't anyone named Harry Potter. I owled Aunt Doreah, she has no idea who you are!" She clenched her fists and ground her teeth. "What kind of game are you playing? Are you trying to ruin their marriage, smear their name?"
Harry cut her off. "Aunt Doreah? The only Doreah I know is Doreah Black from your family tree." Orion had made him memorize most of the living Blacks in this time period, in case he would have to summon them to explain the Dark Lord situation. "Why does her opinion matter?"
"Because," she sneered, her fangs bared, "she is married to Charles Potter."
"Bugger," Harry muttered. "I didn't know." He should have, but Harry knew nothing about his grandmother. He knew Sirius and James were cousins, but how close of a blood relation they were suddenly became apparent. His eyes drifted away from the huffing face of the pale girl. "I didn't mean any trouble, I can't help it if that's my name."
"Who are your parents?" Andromeda asked, the brunette's eyes softening seeing Harry's eyes darken, and water. "Better question, where are they?" That wasn't the right question to ask. She tugged her robes closer to herself, feeling the chill that suddenly fell onto the room.
"They're dead." Harry didn't elaborate on that. How could Tonks' mother ask him that? He would have expected this from the other Blacks but not her!
Out of all the girls here, she should be the most understanding! She had lost her husband, her daughter, everyone! He saw the girl back away, seeing his eyes light with anger. He tried to calm himself. This wasn't the same Andromeda he remembered.
She wasn't Nymphadora's mother, far from it. The short haired girl was a child younger than himself.
Harry hesitated and placed a hand on her shoulder, calming her down, soon she didn't look like she was about to bolt. "I am not angry at you." A memory of her clutching her dying little girl passed to the surface of his mind. "It's just that, I was there when they died." He looked at Bellatrix, still defiant as ever. "I was there, the night they were murdered."
Narcissa gasped, pieces of a puzzle started to come together in her mind. The ominous nature around the boy, the barely-held rage, and the uncomfortable mood, it all made sense! The boy in front of her was an avenger.
From her experiences, she knew those types of people tended to be the most unpredictable. Here she thought the boy was just addled from the trauma in Diagon Alley, now she started to realize that was not the case.
"Who killed them?" a soft voice whispered. "Who killed your parents?" The tall regal looking girl ran hand through her long, curly, jet-black hair, unable to meet Harry's eyes for the first time that day. Bellatrix Black was talkative about many things indeed, but to talk about the murder of other people's parents… that was something she wouldn't dwell on.
Her friends talked a lot about the New World Order that the Dark Lord would unleash once he took over the corrupt Ministry, but she wasn't stupid enough to fall for the idea that they weren't extremists. The Dark Lord's minions were terrorists, and if she did decide to join, something that she was still deciding, there would be blood, most likely paid by the innocent.
"Please, I don't want to talk about this." The boy looked uncomfortable, his shoulders slumped, his breathing changed. "It's still fresh in my mind." The memory of all the ghosts from the Stone of Resurrection ran through his thoughts. How his parents were so proud of him, Sirius's laughing face, the last act of charity they ever did- allowing him the chance to fight the Dark lord.
Harry clutched his chest, feeling his heart break. "I am weary, so tired. If one of you wouldn't mind getting Regulus, I would greatly appreciate it."
Andromeda squeezed his shoulder as she walked past and went to get her little cousin. Bellatrix looked at Harry thoughtfully, while Narcissa looked at him with increasing worry. She stared at Bella, wondering why she sensed the older girl's feelings had changed towards the teen, and even more interestingly, why did she feel suddenly upset that her sister was seeing Harry Potter in a new light?
"Tell me something," Bellatrix said, playing with a strand of her hair, her cheeks slightly rosy. "How come our spells had no effect on you?" This may have been a distraction, but she appeared genuinely curious. Her nose scrunched. "Lucius is terrible with a wand, but not that boorish. He can cast a stunner just fine, as well as a powerful stinging hex."
Harry had hoped no one caught on to that.
Most of the Slytherins just assumed he had wordlessly used a powerful shielding charm to block out their attacks, and then slowly neutralize them, but Bella had realized that wasn't the case. If anyone ever found out that Harry wore his Invisibility cloak, Ignotus' Cloak, the last Deathly Hallow, underneath his current clothes, there would be trouble.
Dumbledore wouldn't take long to connect the rumor of his ability to withstand curses and the Invisibility cloak. Harry might as well have written "Third Hallow" in bright letters, if the old man ever heard about the exact details of this incident.
"When you get to my age, you have a few aces in the hole," Harry tried to explain, causing the girl to run a palm across her face in exasperation. "Not much of an explanation, is it?"
The girl didn't even reply, she got up and left the compartment, looking completely annoyed. She turned her head to her younger sister while in the doorway. "Cissy, if he tries anything, please scream, would you? I still don't trust him."
"Bella! I can take care of myself," the thirteen year old exclaimed. "I would be more worried about your friends!" She turned to face the only boy in the room, and smiled kindly. "Don't worry. I am sure if I am in trouble, this kind sir will protect me." She made an exaggerated curtsy. "I am utterly helpless after all."
Bella rolled her eyes, smirking slightly, and closed the door, earning a snicker from Harry, which the youngest sister smiled at. "Is she always like that?" Harry asked, genuinely curious.
"All the time," the small blond admitted. "She can be such a prude."
Harry almost fell off his chair.
Bellatrix Lestrange, a prude?
From his memories, she was all about action, all about violence, and if she didn't get her way practically everyone around her would be killed. The black haired destroyer was havoc incarnate and didn't seem to care whether she killed her allies, as long as she could fulfill the wishes of the Dark lord.
Plus she was utterly mad.
"I'll keep that in mind." He ran a hand through his messy hair, massaging the scalp to relive some stress. "For now let's just get Regulus into school without any incident, this is his first year."
At that moment the mini-Sirius stepped into the compartment, huffing as a beaming Andromeda walked in, holding his hand. "Found him annoying a group of muggleborns," she explained. "If Ted hadn't saved him, he'd probably need to see Pomfry right now." Harry wondered if she was referring to Ted Tonks.
"Dromeda! You're not talking to that prat, are you?" Narcissa said, whining when her sister smiled wider. "Uncle will have you killed if he knows you breathe the same air as him!"
"Calm down," Dromeda said, "we were just talking."
"Talking can lead to more- how do you put it? Intimate things," Narcissa said. "And I've seen the way he looks at you!"
"Like a human being," the short haired girl tried to reason, her head slightly tilted. "You mean the way he looks at my eyes when we talk?"
"Err," she turned to Harry, and got an idea after seeing his faraway expression. "Harry, you have to explain to her that all men are beasts."
"Oh, come now!" Regulus shouted.
"She is right, we are all beasts," Harry nodded sagely, turning to look at the brunette, "But even beasts are soothed by the sound of music." Narcissa kicked his foot, earning a yelp.
"Thanks for your help," she said tersely. Narcissa was every bit the petulant girl. "I don't like him."
"You don't like Rodolphus either," Andromeda reasoned, and then she blinked. "You don't like anyone."
"Yeah, what she said," Regulus said, sitting next to Harry. He hated being around girls, they were always talking about boys. "Well I, for one, can't wait till I get to school. No need to worry about me. I am not going to end up like Sirius." His face dared anyone to challenge that statement.
"I don't know," Harry said looking out the window, smiling at the antics of these children. "I think you would make a good Hufflepuff; you seem to cling to your mother, after all. Loyalty to family and all that rubbish seems to run in the family." The other occupants did not look amused by the last statement.
Harry didn't get to have a moment of peace for the rest of the train ride.
"First years, come now!" a familiar voice said from across the deck, a voice Harry hadn't heard since Diagon Alley. The teen stepped away from the Black family, who didn't seem to be paying any attention to the mysterious boy, since they had found their school friends.
"Good evening, Arthur," Harry said, from behind the boy, making the tall redhead jump. He wore a set of secondhand robes, and had a shock of messy hair that was combed over on one side of his head. For some reason he reminded Harry of Percy, had the prat had less self-confidence, and a bit more kindness. "You're a Prefect?"
Arthur didn't get a chance to say hello to Harry, as a small group of children, one of them looking suspiciously like Regulus got on his boat. The redhead sighed. "Yes, unfortunately something happened to the last one. I am honestly not sure what." The tall boy looked uncomfortable. "I just found out today that the news isn't good- they haven't found him."
Children going missing. It had the Dark Lord's work all over it. He remembered from Dumbledore's speech that the Imperius curse was one of the reasons Voldemort was so successful. Families didn't even know they had a sleeper agent among them until it was too late and a loyal member suddenly turned into a dangerous enemy, ready to slice down the very people they grew up with.
"You don't suppose the Dark Lord has anything to do with it?" Harry asked, making sure not to use the word Voldemort. He had to be careful; at this time, the very word would travel through the masses and he would be under suspicion as to why he was not afraid to use that name. "Something happened to me this summer. I was attacked when I first arrived here. Perhaps this is similar?" Arthur looked uncertain as to how to answer that question.
"The Death Eaters haven't attacked many in public," Arthur admitted, his eyes looked puzzled, but there was a note of pity there. "Why would they attack you?"
That was an answer he couldn't give- not here, not ever. Orion had been very strict about keeping the matter in the family. The only ones who knew of what happened in the Black House were Harry, Orion, and the Department of Law Enforcement. The rest of the family was made aware that they had a run in with the Death Eaters, but even they weren't told the full story.
Orion wasn't sure how to tell his family that the Dark Lord wanted him killed, wanted to absorb his family into his order, then wanted take both their wealth and power. Harry wasn't sure how to break it to them either, considering Lord Voldemort's policy was pro-pureblood and families didn't get any purer than the Blacks.
"Weasley! Hurry up!" shouted another familiar voice. Harry turned around to see Alice on another boat, one with Molly and Frank sitting on it, with a group of children. "Everyone's already left; you and Molly's boyfriend can talk some other time, right now we have to go!"
Both Arthur and Harry's face lit up with shock. Harry turned to see the frozen Gryffindor's face, and saw the resemblance at that very moment! How could he have missed it! He turned around to see red faced Molly and the way she was glaring at her friend, and the temper that was about to explode out of her!
Molly and Arthur! "Boody hell, I am an idiot," he said aloud, which got the attention of a stammering Weasley who pulled Harry onto the boat, but looked at him with a hardness that hadn't been there a moment ago.
Then, Potter could not think of anything to say, what could he say? That the two of them were like the parents he never had? That Molly was more of a mother to him than anyone in the entire world? That he briefly fell in love with their child, if only for a month, before he went Horcrux hunting? That he knew each and every one of their children, and his life was saved by a few of them more than once?
What could he say to an Arthur who looked so solemn, and more than a bit hurt, standing in a middle of a boat, wearing clothes that reminded Harry so eerily of Ron's? Occlumency helped keep the boy from literally breaking down and trying to hug him.
This wasn't just Sirius. He had only seen Sirius for two years of his life- Sirius was like the big brother he never had, but Arthur Weasley literally took the poor orphan into his home and showed him that there were people in the world that cared for him, allowing his children to stand by him, even at the risk of their very lives.
"We're almost here," muttered Regulus, feeling the tension between the two. One looked dejected, the other looked like he was on the verge of breaking down, only being held back by a stream of heaving breathing. "Oi, snap out of it!"
Severus Snape fell face-first into the mud because of a tripping spell. He should have expected as much, but he had hoped that things would be different this year, despite how futile that wish could be. Ahead of him were a group of Gryffindors, lead by Potter and Black. They turned around, showing their backs to him, but not before giving him a smirk, knowing what they had done.
"Nice one, way to show hand-eye coordination, slimeball," a nearby Ravenclaw sneered, walking over him. Children walked past the somewhat greasy teen, some looking worried that he was injured but most laughing and ignoring the fact that there was blood flowing out of his nose.
"Shouldn't somebody help him?" a girl asked. She was wearing a set of black robes that looked all too expensive. Snape mused that she was from a rich family, if a naïve one, if they didn't know about the status of Severus Snape, resident half-blood of Slytherin House.
"Leave him, this happens all the time," a boy shrugged. Snape couldn't see who. Thus everyone, children young and old, allowed him to collect whatever dignity he had left in peace. Well, not before jeering at him, but it could have been worse, that was something he knew all too well.
It was then that a hand reached his shoulder and grasped his arm, and in a swoop he was pulled out of the mud and, was faced towards the direction of the castle.
The greasy haired Slytherin turned around to see the face of the very vicious-looking boy his group had tried to surprise in the compartment, only for him to turn the tables on them. He didn't like the idea of so many against one, he almost felt like James Potter's group when he did that. Anything that attached him to that hooligan made his blood stir.
But what choice did he have? They were the only friends he had. Only they aren't really your friends, a dark place in his mind whispered.
"Watch where you walk," the boy, Harry Potter, if Snape wasn't mistaken, said, ignoring the bruise marks on Snape's hand, a clear indicator that some invisible netting spells were used to stop him from grasping his wand when Potter tripped him. "It might save your life." There was a double meaning in those words that Snape could not possibly grasp.
"Thanks," Snape sneered, his moment of anger and hurt vanishing, as a brave face formed on his twisted features, "I'll try and keep that in mind, old man." He didn't need advice from someone who looked too old to be a student. Who repeated their final Hogwarts year anyway? Only stupid people did that! He may have been good in a fight, but there was much more to life than dueling.
"Move along, chaps," Weasley said, this time from behind Harry, looking at Potter with neutrality, which made Harry look away. "There's no need to be here, and you're going to need sorting."
For a brief moment Harry Potter wondered if maybe he shouldn't be in Gryffindor if he had to deal with the awkwardness that was Arthur Weasley. Then he saw the sneering face of Snape and shook his head.
Between a rock and a hard spot.
The Sorting went out with any real surprises. Regulus ended in Slytherin and sat beside Harry, who awaited his turn. The other students were looking at the older boy quizzically, since, by far, he was the oldest one in the table. "I wasn't serious about the Hufflepuff thing, you shouldn't have looked so worried," Harry tried to reason with an angry Regulus.
"You know what the Hat said! It said I should be in Hufflepuff, I had all the right qualities! It's your fault, you put ideas into my head!" Regulus kicked Harry in the shin, underneath the table. The tall teenager didn't react. The boy was only eleven, and he didn't even kick very hard. He pretended that he felt something and just patted the boy on the head.
"Now for our last guest, this is an unusual one, but not one that hasn't been done before. Our last sorting will be Mr. Harry Potter, who has come to us from Salem to complete his final year at Hogwarts. If you would come up to the stage, Mr. Potter, we can get this started." Dumbledore gestured to the seat, from his podium.
Harry sighed and made to go in that direction, but a hand grasped his arm before he could get there. He turned around to see the smiling face of Narcissa.
"Don't mind Bellatrix, she is just a bit on edge. We aren't all like that in the train station, really. I didn't know that was going to happen, please believe me." Harry smiled at the small girl, who blushed and almost shouted the last word. "You looked cool in Diagon Alley." The girl went silent from then on, as some of her Year mates, including her best friend, Helena Zabini, looked at her, puzzled.
Harry could feel the animosity practically bursting from the Gryffindor table as he passed. He didn't have to turn around to feel the malevolent pile of hatred that was James Potter. He didn't know what his father should be feeling, but he knew the boy could not be happy with a taller version of himself pretending to be his bastard older brother.
Only you never admitted to anyone you're a bastard, so you haven't lied yet, eh Harry? He hadn't corrected Orion, when he knew he should, and the Potters were going to pay for it. "It's a small price to pay," he muttered walking up the steps. For the greater good.
Minerva looked bored as the teen walked in front of her, gave her a friendly nod and sat on the chair. These sortings were very tiring in her opinion; at least Dumbledore got to sit down as everyone was sorted. She had to stand up! "Just one more, Minerva, just one more and you can let the Prefects take care of the rest," she muttered.
She heard Harry Potter chuckle and gasped, realizing she said those words a little too loud. She placed the Sorting Hat on his head, and backed away, chiding herself for losing control like that. The tall woman in her late thirties ran a hand through her auburn curly hair, shifting its silky-soft strands over her shoulder.
Minerva groaned, noticing that the top button on her Hogwarts teacher's robes was missing again. She would have to get it replaced at Diagon Alley. Had her salary been higher, she could have afforded to get it fixed today, but that wouldn't be the case for many years. "What's taking this boy so long?" Though "boy" was pushing it, he was a year older than any of her students.
Looking at the back of his head she could see singe marks, the kind one would get if hit with dark curse fires, but that wouldn't be possible. Clearly it must have been some strange fashion, since no one would survive that many hits to the head by dark curses. Not even Alastor had come out sane after one too many concussion hexes. "I should stop scowling so much," she chided herself, hoping the boy couldn't hear. "Wrinkles don't become me." She was reaching her forties, and, if that wasn't the worst of it, she hadn't even found a husband.
Growing up in WWII wasn't exactly the best time to find a man to love, and her prudish behavior didn't exactly allow for many, if any, bed warmers. Being a natural introvert, and aggressive, both physically and mentally, she seemed almost too arrogant. But that wasn't true. She wasn't a bossy, domineering, person at all.
She sighed to herself, feeling nervous at this sorting, just like every other time she had to be on stage.
Minerva was shy, and terrified to admit it. "It's been ten minutes," she muttered, looking at the clock. "What could the Hat be telling him?"
"…and then I saved Orion, and here I am." Harry finished this with a look of pain and weariness. "I just don't know what to do."
The Hat didn't say anything for several minutes, Harry wondered if it was suddenly going to scream that he was a time traveler and a bunch of Aurors should appear to haul him off to Azkaban. "Well…"
"I think, Mr. Potter, I think I, from the future, made a grave error." The Hat scowled. "The first time around I should have went with my instincts, perhaps none of this would have happened had I done just that. From the memories I am looking through, Gryffindor has made you into, I am sorry to say, a horrible wizard when you could have been so much more." Harry already knew what the hat was about to say, and reached out to pull it off his head, but it was too late.
"As I said the first time, the house that will help you in your path to greatness is... SLYTHERIN!"
It was hard to miss the look of deep anguish in the boy's face, as he pulled off the cap and let it fall gently to the floor. He didn't hear the claps in the hall, or the sounds of cheering from Regulus and Narcissa. All he could think about was how he had screwed up.
He sat down on the warm bench, and looked around to see Andromeda touch his shoulder, her blue eyes looked at him curiously. Kind, caring, eyes, so much like Tonks. "I am all right, I just didn't expect that. I thought maybe I would be the same House as-"
"As your half-brother," she interrupted and finished for him, looking pained as the taller teen turned away from her.
Andromeda wanted to tell him that her House wasn't bad, that he would be happy here, with them, and that she was glad she had someone she could count on in the House. She wanted to tell him thanks for saving her uncle, she wanted to make him stop looking at the Gryffindor table, but all she could really do was stay silent and watch this teen, who, for some twisted reason, made qualities that were strange to her come out. She didn't know she could feel so much like a mother just by being near him.
When he talked to her it was with gentle hesitation, yet with a strange sense of familiarity. As if they had already met, and he was just starting to get to know her better. "Only, I don't even know if you're telling the truth of who you are, or if you really believe you're a bastard, Harry," she mumbled.
She caught her sister staring at Harry once again. Andromeda didn't understand the girl's fascination with the boy. Harry wasn't even good-looking, he looked like James after a cartload of Bludgers had smashed his face. Not a pretty sight. Not to mention that hideous scar on his forehead that was so black it stood out even during the night, a horrendous jagged thunderbolt.
"Andromeda, what would you say if I told you that out of all the houses, this is the one I'm positively sure I don't belong in?" he turned to face her, his green eyes sending a shock through her own. She almost stammered, seeing the misery in them. His eyes crinkled at the edges and looked hollow, like those of a corpse, only for them to transform back to their regular state.
In that instant she learned much about him: a terrible secret. The middle sister learned that he was an Occlumens. What kind of secrets is he keeping?
"I would say you can't know that for sure. This is your first time at Hogwarts and despite what people say about Dark wizards and Slytherins, I can assure you it's not true." She pointed to herself, and almost grinned, reminding him of Nymphadora in that brief moment. "Can you picture me as a Dark witch?"
Harry had to laugh, but his eyes trailed to Bellatrix as she said this, only long enough for Bella to make eye contact and quickly look away, almost in fright.
"I… I see your point."
"Besides, I think you have made friends in this house already," she said, pointing to Lucius Malfoy and his group, glaring at him from another table. Harry shrugged this off. "We're not making a great impression on you, are we?" she deadpanned.
"Not particularly," he admitted dryly. "No. Between Snape, Lucius, and your sister… it leaves much to be desired."
"Here," the smaller girl said, pointing to the boy's dormitory. "That's where you'll be sleeping. Aside from Fletcher, though, I am not sure there are any Seventh Years. He's… well, you'll see when you meet him. Any questions?" she asked, her blue eyes looking hopeful. It wasn't hero worship Harry saw there exactly, but he knew it had the potential to be.
Harry could only imagine what sort of image he conjured up back in the alley, slaying the demons, rescuing the damsel, not to mention having Bellatrix Black chase after him with an intent to kill. The girl didn't seem particularly popular outside of her House.
In fact she didn't seem well-liked within Slytherin House, either. "Thank you, Narcissa." He looked up and down the dark corridors, and saw that no one was there. He turned to face the blue eyed girl, now wearing a more casual set of robes. The youngest sister shouldn't be out here with him. "But you should go, Andromeda will be worried, and Bellatrix will kill me for being near you longer than necessary."
"Oh, um, okay." She lowered her head. Her blond bangs hid her eyes, and she turned to walk away. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then." Before she could take another step, a hand was on her shoulder. She turned around to see an uncomfortable-looking Harry Potter.
Harry was struggling for words. This was the mother of his childhood enemy- well, next to Petunia- and it was Draco who had ultimately gotten Dumbledore killed, it was Draco who wanted to bring him to Voldemort, and yet it was also Draco who was screaming at Crabbe to not kill him or his friends.
In the end the little Malfoy didn't have the heart to commit murder, despite how monstrous he was; a strange paradox.
Narcissa was nothing like her son, or her husband. It was true her resemblance to both of them was startling, but this little girl didn't seem to display any of those qualities, aside from a slight need to be near anyone with real power. It was no wonder she was in such awe of him. Harry figured he would be too. If only she knew how badly you were beaten by Voldemort.
Of course she would never find out. No one would. "I'd like to thank you for all that you have done for me. I know it hasn't been easy, me being around the house and all, but you haven't complained, despite having to come change my bandages."
The two of them had an easy relationship, that consisted mostly of one wrapping sheets around the other's bloody chest, while Harry silently contemplated his next action. "If… if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. I may not be the smartest wizard in the grounds, or even the strongest." Here Harry stood straight, looking impressive. "But I have been known to make miracles happen."
The blond girl didn't make any outward reactions, but inside she was ecstatic. There weren't many heroes in the wizarding world, and those who were usually turned out to be downright insane, such as Dumbledore. Narcissa Black had seen the boy risk his life for Molly Prewitt, a likable redhead, who she doubted he even knew at the time.
When he ran out of the store in Diagon Alley, he made sure not to harm anyone in his way. He was even more careful than Bella when it came to using attacks, and did what he could to minimize the casualties. Not only that but he was cunning! He had tricked an Auror into letting his guard down, then escaped from him, only to fight and defeat one of the most ruthless people in the Dark Lord's army minutes later!
There was something dangerous about Harry Potter, she just knew it. There could be no other reason for him to be living in their house, living only a few rooms away from Orion's children no less! Was he some kind of body guard? Was their family in danger? All the signs were there, and it made her almost giddy inside- thinking about it from a romantic point of view.
But then, that same romance made her afraid. "Are we in danger, Harry?" Harry didn't answer that question, he just moved her to the exit of the corridors and watched her walk up the stairs to the girl's dormitory.
"No, none of you are in danger. Not while I am around. Not when I can do something, not when I know what's going to happen, not when I… not as long as I can keep my promises this time." He made a vow to defeat the Dark Lord, and he would fulfill it. "One way, or another."
He didn't go to the Slytherin dormitories. No, he had something much more important to take care of. "Let's go find the Room of Requirements where the Ravenclaw Diadem is," he almost snarled, his eyes practically glowing in the dark: the eyes of a predator. "There is going to be one less Horcrux after today. One less thing for these kids to worry about, and this time no one will have to die trying to destroy it."
His cloak billowed behind him, lifted by a gust of violent wind, while he stalked toward the Room of Requirement in the dark of night.
End