AN: Enjoy!

Chapter 23 - Totems

The period of time between Christmas and the New Year had not been restful for Harry and Bellatrix. After learning about the Dark Lord's return, Harry ceased with his nonchalant attitude. For nearly a week, he and Bellatrix had searched for possible locations of Voldemort's Horcruxes. Their efforts, however, were met with failure.

The first place that they had gone to was the cave guarded by Inferi. At least that's how it had been in his past life. In this world, that cave had nothing special about it. There were no magical protections in place, no traces of Dark Magic and no magical creatures either. They searched for the old manor of the Gaunt family too but they could not find it. As a last-ditch effort, Harry and Bellatrix went to Little Hangleton but they could not find the Riddle manor either. They even went to the building that had once been an orphanage where the Dark Lord had spent his childhood yet the current inhabitants were just regular Muggles and there were no traces of magic around at all.

Now, they were sitting on the sofa in the living room of the Blackthorn, discussing their options.

"Maybe he didn't make as many Horcruxes as in your past life?" Bellatrix suggested. "You most likely already know this but the process of tearing a piece of your soul is an irreversible action, one that is not left without consequences. It could be that after he created the first one and felt the side effects of mutilating his soul he decided that one was enough. It's certainly something that a clever person would realize. They wouldn't continue destroying themselves to insanity."

Harry scratched at his already messy hair, making it look even scruffier than usual.

"Maybe? I don't know. But we can't exclude the possibility that he could've made the same number of Horcruxes as in my past and hidden them in different places either. Plus, we can't find the Gaunt Manor. Since Voldemort is back he could've put it under the Fidelius Charm."

"Well, you said that he had murdered Hepzibah Smith in your past life to steal the Cup of Helga Hufflepuff and the Locket of Slytherin from her but she's alive here. Detestable woman, really. Wearing only expensive and tacky clothes, always throwing her wealth around and never missing a chance to brag about being Helga Hufflepuff's descendant...all the while bearing such a common Muggle surname - Smith!" Bellatrix said with a shake of her head and scoffed.

"You of all people should know that she could be a descendant of hers through a Muggle line. She's a half-blood, isn't she?" Harry said, knowing that she could not contradict him on this matter.

She looked at him in annoyance. "Okay, I just don't like her. Happy now?"

"Yes~," he said and grinned.

But he stopped teasing her and became serious again. They were in the middle of an important talk.

"Have you tried asking the Grey Lady? She could be the key to confirming whether Voldemort had used her mother's Diadem to make a Horcrux or not." Bellatrix came up with another suggestion.

"I haven't. I didn't really care about Horcruxes before. I told you, at first, I wanted nothing to do with all these. I wanted to be as far from the conflict and the upcoming war as possible."

"If you had truly wanted that, you would've left the country," she said.

"You're right. But I missed Hogwarts. It was my first and only home. The temptation of seeing again the people that had once used to be my friends was too big too. Just so you know, for a while, things have worked out well for me. I mean, I kept everyone at an arm's length, not getting close to them...until you came around."

"And then ickle Harry fell in love with his beautiful and intelligent aunt Bella~," she said teasingly.

"You forgot to say how humble and well-behaved she is too," he retorted.

"Humble? Why would a Black be humble? Besides, you know it's true. You liiike me~" she sing-sang.

"Need I remind you who was the first to initiate a hug? Or confess their undying love?" he shot back.

She smirked at him, knowing that she had gotten under his skin. His flustered countenance was proof of that.

"ANYWAY, as I was saying-"

"-you got attached to lil' old me and-" she cut his words midway.

"Bella!"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Damnit, be serious for a moment!"

"Sirius is my cousin, I'm Bella~"

Hooting sounds that sounded awfully similar to laughter came from a snowy owl perched near the window. But when Harry sharply turned his head at her, Hedwig all of a sudden started to scratch herself with her beak under her wing.

"Goddamnit, even an owl is laughing at my expense..."

Bellatrix burst into a fit of giggles at the situation.

"Teasing you has become so much more fun ever since I learned about your real age," she said, smiling widely.

Harry rolled his eyes and pretended to be annoyed. Inwardly, however, he was enjoying their back and forth more than he was willing to admit.

"Don't worry, things will turn out fine. Haven't you already dealt with the Dark Lord several times in your past life? What could he possibly do to you? The way you dismantled those Death Eaters last week was absolutely brilliant. I don't think even Dumbledore would have it done with as much ease as you."

"It's not me I'm worried about. It's the people I care about. The Tonks family, Sirius, and you... I don't want a repeat of what happened in the past," he said quietly.

Harry had told her many more things about his past life over the last week. She knew about his adventures at Hogwarts as a child, about his exploits as a Hit-Wizard, about the wars he had been through, and she knew about the Weasleys and their fates as well.

Bellatrix let out a sigh and placed her hand above his, gently squeezing it.

"We'll deal with things as they come. Until you speak with the Grey Lady, there's nothing else we can do."

⁂

"Maman, papa, you didn't need to see me off. There's so much work to be done now. Who is taking care of the vineyards with you gone?" a 15-year-old girl said in a whiny voice. The fact that she was talking in French attracted quite a few curious gazes from the surrounding people on the crowded 9 and 3/4 Platform.

"Don't be silly, it's only January, the vineyards aren't going anywhere. Are you perhaps trying to stop us from seeing who your sweetheart is?" her mother, a beautiful woman in her late thirties said, her face all smiles.

The Delacours were not obscenely wealthy but they were still rather well off. They owned vast vineyards in Southeastern France, in Provence. With such a large amount of land, there was work to be done all year round.

"I want to see Fleur's boyfriend too!" a girl younger than ten exclaimed and looked around curiously. With her baby blue eyes and her long white-golden hair, she looked as sweet and cute as a little angel.

"Boyfriend? I thought he was just a friend. Is there something you're not telling us?" Mr Delacour also said half-seriously half-jokingly.

Mr and Mrs Delacour and little Gabrielle were in very high spirits. They had just had the most beautiful winter holiday in the past 5 years. For some reason, this year, Fleur stopped acting as cold and distant towards them as she used to before. During these two weeks that they had spent together, there had not been even one argument between them. Their familial bonds were mended and they became close once again as they spent a wonderful time at a chattel house in the Swiss Alpes. Naturally, they became suspicious at her sudden (but very much welcome) shift in behaviour. Therefore, when they learned from Gabrielle that Fleur was writing letters to someone once every two days, they immediately became curious. They wanted to meet the boy that their daughter appeared to be smitten with.

"We're not like that, I've told you before! 'Arry is just... he is my best friend!" she said. She was not embarrassed and she did not appear to be flustered at the insinuations of her family either. However, a soft smile appeared on her face as she spoke of him, a soft smile that transformed into a large, brilliant one the very moment she spotted a certain someone ahead of her.

"'Arry!" she called out for the black-haired boy ahead of her and waved her hand in excitement.

Harry too, involuntarily mirrored her wide smile when he saw her. Her excitement was infectious.

"I'm happy to see you too, but your parents are right behind you," he whispered while the older girl was hugging him for all he was worth.

"Maman, papa, this is 'Arry Potter," she turned around and told her parents in English after she let go of him.

"Pleased to meet you, sir, madam," Harry said politely.

Mr and Mrs Delacour shared a strange look. They thought they knew her daughter but it looked like they had to re-evaluate their opinions about her. They had expected Fleur's male friend to be a strapping young man, handsome and...at least of the same age as her if not older. They had not expected that her friend was 2-3 years her junior, a rather thin boy whose head barely reached her shoulder.

"The pleasure is all ours," Mr Delacour said after recovering from his surprise and raised his hand for a handshake.

Harry shook his hand as if it was natural. His calm behaviour threw the physically older man off. What boy, especially this young, was not nervous in the least when meeting the parents of his girlfriend? Or maybe Fleur was speaking the truth and they were not involved that way? He did not know what to think... because Mr Delacour had no way of knowing that he and Harry were actually of the same age mentally.

"You feed them, you raise them, you robe them, yet they leave you behind and run away with the first birdie that catches their eyes. Children these days-" Bellatrix complained in a hurt voice as she came from behind.

"This dramatic old lady over here-" Harry had to dodge Bellatrix's attempt at grabbing and twisting his ears, "-is Bellatrix Black. My caretaker and the professor of Defense Against Dark Arts."

Fleur laughed at their antics and even Gabrielle giggled at how Bellatrix tried (and failed) to catch Harry despite not understanding what everyone was talking about in English.

"Miss Black, I've 'eard so many things about you!" Apolline was the first to greet her, speaking in a heavily accented English and stepped forth to shake hands with her. "Your research about magic ancestry 'as raised waves even in France. I deeply admire your bravery and strength, especially after you defeated the ones that attacked you two weeks ago!"

"Your words are too kind," Bellatrix replied with a smile in a perfect French, surprising both Apolline and her husband. "None of that would have been possible without Harry over here. He was the key to my success, the last solid proof that I needed to validate my theory. He also saved my life the other day."

Mr and Mrs Delacour could not help but take a second look at the scrawny boy chatting with Fleur and Gabrielle on the side.

"So the rumours about him helping you fight off your assassins-" Mr Delacour began to say.

"-Aren't that far from the truth," Bellatrix continued his words. "I wouldn't be here today if not for him. And I speak literally. He saved my life. Harry... he is a gifted boy."

The whistle of the Hogwarts Express rang and all the students that were still on the platform started saying their last good-byes, hurrying to get on the train.

"As far as I know, the two of them aren't romantically involved," Bellatrix said, not beating around the bush. "But I watched them carefully the last term. Before they became friends, they were both loners. They seem happier and livelier nowadays. I think that they are good for each other."

"Hearing such high praise about him, you made me very curious. I would love to get to know him better. He is Fleur's first friend and a boy at that too," Mr Delacour said with a chuckle.

"That could be arranged," Bellatrix said and then she added after thinking for a short while: "I would have been open to inviting you to my residence but in these circumstances, I'm afraid I am unable to do so. I am too popular right now, for the lack of a better word."

Bellatrix valued her safety too much to suddenly give out the secret of her home's residence to a bunch of people that she had just met. There were too many that would love to see her dead these days.

"Your concerns are perfectly understandable. Maybe we can arrange something during the summer holidays." Mr Delacour said.

"We could invite them over to us, couldn't we?" Apolline asked her husband.

"We could, yes," he agreed.

Another whistle rang and Bellatrix could no longer spend time chatting with the French couple.

"I'm afraid I have to go now. It was lovely meeting your family. I wish you a safe trip back to France."

The Delacours also bid her farewell and after little Gabrielle tearfully hugged her elder sister one last time, Harry, Fleur, and Bellatrix got on the train. They were among the last to hop in. Only moments later, the Hogwarts Express started to move.

⁂

As Harry dragged his trunk after him on the corridors of the train's carriages, looking for an empty compartment, he was hit by a feeling of deja-vu.

"It's Harry Potter! He's here!"

"There were eyewitnesses that watched him killing like half of the assassins! It's all in the Prophet!"

It was as if he was back in his 6th year of school at Hogwarts, in his past life, when everyone recognized the fact that he had been speaking the truth about Voldemort's return all along. Back then, his popularity had exploded overnight. It was like that in the present as well. Excited voices could be heard and dozens of students opened the doors of their compartment to get a better look at him as he passed by.

"He's Salazar Slytherin's descendant! Of course that he's bloody brilliant!" some sixth year Slytherin said with pride.

"He'd been sorted in Ravenclaw tho!" a Ravenclaw girl countered.

For the first time in her life, Fleur experienced what it felt like to not be the centre of attention anymore. Despite her beauty and her Veela Charm, the students on the train seemed to have eyes only for Harry alone at that moment. He had become an overnight celebrity. Over two weeks passed from the assassination attempt on Bellatrix Black but the Daily Prophet was still talking about that. It felt like in the past two months, wizards and witches in the UK have been constantly hearing about Bellatrix Black and her protege, Harry Potter - first about her research regarding Magic Ancestry and Harry being a Parselmouth and more recently, about the 10 assassins that tried to kill them in the open, in Diagon Alley no less.

"So," Fleur began after they finally found an empty compartment, "let's talk about when you're going to teach me some of your skills."

Harry chuckled at her eagerness. "I take it you've started to believe I was a total badass in my other world?" he said with a laugh.

"Can you blame me for not believing everything you said? You men say the funniest things sometimes, especially when you're trying to woo a girl."

"I don't recall ever trying to woo you though? Merlin, you weren't wrong, you and Bella aren't that different after all. You both think everyone is in love with you! Need I remind you who was the one that stalked me on the train and then on corridors under an invisibility cloak?"

She poked him with her finger in the ribs in retaliation and he recoiled from her touch. He was very ticklish in that spot. She tried to poke him again but he caught her by the wrist just in time. However, he miscalculated: he was just a 12-year-old scrawny boy while she was a 15-year-old girl, and rather physically developed for her age. She was physically stronger than him. Wrestling her forearm free from his grasp, she pushed him to the side. Harry fell on his side with his right arm trapped under his body and her weight as well while his other arm was restrained by her. With her free arm, she started tickling him mercilessly.

"Ah! Fleur, stop!" he cried out, his cheeks starting to blush from embarrassment at being manhandled by a girl, despite being a 40-year-old man mentally.

"Haha! No!" she laughed out loud, her own face a bit rosy too from the effort and from laughing too hard.

"You're- you're over 30 for god's sake! Ahaha, stop! Act like it!" he said between peals of laughter.

It took him casting a nonverbal and wandless Full-Body Binding Curse on her for her to finally stop her assault on him. She collapsed on top of him, her body as stiff as a rock.

"Oof, you're so heavy! How much weight did you gain over Christmas?" he complained grumpily as he pushed her away from on top of him with difficulty.

When he finally regained his bearing, he cancelled the binding curse on her.

"I did not get fat, not one bit!" was the first thing she said (yelled) upon recovering her ability to speak.

"You did. You're heavier than I remember. You must've gorged yourself with food irresponsibly on Christmas. Don't you lie now!"

"'Arry, I'm very much capable of cursing you, I thought you knew that."

"Dark Lord slayer over here," he said smugly as he pointed with his thumb at his chest. "Little angry bird over there," he said and pointed with his index finger at her. "Give me your best shot."

"Braggart!"

"Is it still bragging if it's the truth?"

She huffed at him. "Next thing you're going to tell me is that you made a broomstick that can fly to the moon."

Harry burst into laughter. "It reminds me of what I heard someone saying to a Veela once. He was enthralled by her charm. He told her he built a broom that could fly to Mars. Haha!"

"See? That's what I was talking about when I said that you men say ridiculous things sometimes."

They chuckled together.

"I was serious, 'Arry," Fleur said after a while. "I want to learn from you. If you are as skilled as you said you are, there's no-one that could teach me better."

"Aren't you good enough already? You've already done in so many..."

Fleur did not even blink at the fact that he mentioned that she was a serial killer.

"I'm not bad but not extraordinary either. I'm average. I've succeeded until now because it was never a fair fight for them. I always prepared beforehand, down to the tiniest details and I made my move when my targets were not prepared - when they were the most vulnerable. But that might not be the case forever."

"Who do you have in mind next? Is there a new target on your list?" he asked.

"That's not important now. We'll talk about it later, in a safer place. Back to what I was saying, I really want you to teach me!"

Harry was pretending to think hard about it as if it was a difficult matter to decide on.

"Well, what do I get in return?" he asked and grinned.

"'Ellooo? You get to spend more time with me!"

He snorted with laughter. "Thank, no thanks. I'll pass."

"I see, you're still too young to appreciate the company of a beautiful and smart woman-"

"I'm in my 40s," he said blandly.

"Yes, but your body isn't. Once your 'ormones start acting up..."

He could not reign in the urge to roll his eyes. "Not all men think with their lower heads. Even when puberty kicks in, I still won't act like your puppy. Besides, I told you before, didn't I? You're not my type."

Resting her chin in her hands and her elbows on her knees, she leaned forward and looked him in the eyes up-close.

"I don't believe you, not one bit~ you have no reason not to like someone like me."

"Someone like you as in vain, impulsive, arrogant, fat-"

"I'm NOT FAT!"

"So you're not denying the first three?"

They glared at each other for a few moments before starting to chuckle.

She sat up from her seat across from him and came to sit down next to him instead. She tried to lean against his shoulder...but he was too short.

"This is so not manly! When are you going to grow up already?" she huffed, torn between exasperation and laughter.

Harry flushed a little.

"I'm a late bloomer, ok? There's nothing I can do about it, I'm only 12! I'm still waiting for my puberty to kick in. You think I like being this short and scrawny? Body shaming me, boo, shame on you!"

"Aww, I didn't mean it like that," she said and giggled as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pecked him on the cheek. "Short or tall, you're still my best friend."

"More like your only friend. Freaking shut-in loner."

"Pipsqueak!"

"Fat lard!"

"You called me a fat what? What part of me looks fat? By the gods, look at me. I'm a VEELA!" she said in outrage. "And what's a lard anyway?" She had not heard that English word before but given that he had used it to insult her, it could not mean something good.

Harry burst into laughter. "Not telling."

The two continued to bicker and trade childish barbs for a long time. It was as if they were kindergarten children, not adults in their thirties and forties respectively.

"My cheeks are 'urting from laughing too much," Fleur said.

"Same. I'm also tired. I think I'll catch some sleep until we arrive."

"Are you serious?"

"Aunt Bella's cousin is Sirius. I'm Harry~" He told her the same annoying joke that Bellatrix had been telling him as of late.

"Should I smack you or are you going to do it yourself?"

"Sheesh, what's with you and the threats of bodily harm, when have you become so violent?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, not deigning that question with an answer. She was a serial killer.

"Right. Stupid question. You've always been like that. Angry bird. Anyway, I'm really tired. I haven't gotten much rest this holiday. Bella and I have been extremely busy."

"We haven't seen each other in two weeks and here you are, going to sleep after just meeting me again," she said, pouting.

"I'll tell you everything tonight, after the feast. I promise!" It was not only Fleur that was displeased, he was annoyed at himself too for how easily he got tired in his current body. He missed being a grown-up man.

Saying that, he laid his head on his arm, against the window. But he soon grew tired of that position. Then, he tried then to rest his head against the backrest of his seat but whenever the train took a turn, he would lose his balance and almost fall.

"Come 'ere," she said with an amused smile and patted her thighs.

Harry did not need a second invitation. He lied down, with his head resting in her lap.

"You've really gotten fat. Your thighs weren't this plump before."

That proved to be not the wisest thing to say because Fleur suddenly pinched his nose and he had to struggle bitterly for about two minutes to escape from her hands. When she finally stopped abusing his nose, he could not feel anything except for a burning sensation anymore. There were even some tears in the corners of his eyes.

"You were asking for it! There is not an ounce of fat on my body if you exclude my breasts! My thighs are toned muscle, not fat!" she said in a mixture of pride and annoyance. Even during the winter holiday, even on Christmas, she still went for her daily 5-6 miles long morning runs. She was more athletic and fit than she had ever been in both her past and current life. How dare he call her fat?!

Harry stopped teasing her and just chuckled inwardly. After a few minutes, his tiredness coupled with the softness of her (totally not plump) thighs lulled him to sleep. Before falling asleep, he felt her starting to play with his hair and scratching his scalp lightly with her nails. He groaned in pleasure. It was so comfortable. There was a small smile on his face as he entered the world of dreams.

⁂

Somewhere in the countryside of European Russia, there was a majestic mansion with more than four floors, surrounded by gorgeous gardens with marble statues and golden fountains. The mansion could be seen from any direction from miles away due to where it had been built - on top of the tallest hill around. The iron-wrought massive gates were guarded by two large serpent statues with rubies for eyes.

"Living in luxury like a king while the rest of the continent is burning from the war you've caused..." a raspy voice came.

A middle-aged man that looked like a pitiful homeless stepped in front of the tall gates. He was missing an arm, he was wearing a dusty black cloak and clothes that were made from some sort of bizarre leather that had seen better days. His grizzled hair was short but scruffy and his beard unkempt.

Opening his cloak, he took out something that looked like a thick and rather short wooden pole painted in a beige colour. It was not just a simple stick, however. Countless symbols were painted on it orderly, all over it. They were ancient runes and the wooden pole was a totem. When he let go of it, the totem started to float in the air by itself.

"Ala, Goddess of Earth, grant me your blessing! Earthbind!" the one-armed middle-aged man chanted. (1)

The symbols covering the wooden pole started to glow with a dark yellow light and engulfed the entire pole. It rose higher in the air and, under the middle-aged man's control, it flew until it arrived above the mansion. The light coming from the symbols painted on the wooden pole grew in intensity to such a degree that it bathed the entire hill on which the mansion had been build, along with its enormous courtyard and gardens.

Shouts and sounds of alarm could be heard from the men and women tasked with protecting the premises of the mansion when they noticed the dark yellow light that had encompassed the entire mansion and its courtyard.

The one-armed man took another totem covered in ancient runes from his cloak, one painted in red, and placed it on the ground, next to him.

"Ogun, God of War, grant me your strength! Bloodlust!" (2)

The runes on the Totem of War glowed with a deep red light. The middle-aged man's body gained a halo of crimson light and his cloak started to flutter despite the absence of wind. Unhurriedly, he took out a thin and gnarly piece of wood from a holster strapped at his waist. It was the Elder Wand. Then, he pointed it at the massive iron-wrought gates in front of him.

The aura of red light coming from the Totem of War focused on his sole hand and what looked like the illusion of a large crossbow-like weapon appeared behind his back.

"Ballista!" (3)

A bolt of red light burst from the Elder Wand, just like a bolt launched from a ballista, towards the gates. But before it could smash into them, a thick membrane of light stopped its advent. The wards of the mansion were revealed: an immense dome of blue light appeared, encapsulating the building and its courtyard within. If nothing else, the sheer size of it alone was extraordinary.

Nevertheless, the bolt of red light fired from the Elder Wand was stopped only for the split of a second. In the next moment, deafening sounds of glass shattering were heard as the bolt of red light blasted through it and then smashed against the huge gates. With a powerful bang, the iron-wrought gates and the ruby-eyed serpents were smashed to smithereens.

Over thirty people dressed in black robes and wearing skull masks on their faces rushed out of the mansion and it looked like that was not all of them seeing as more of them were pouring out through its wide-open double oak doors.

However, the one-armed middle-aged did not even look at them. Glowing with rage, his emerald eyes were searching for something else. For someone else. Eventually, he spotted them: bald, pale-grey skin, red-eyed, and with two slits instead of a nose. It was none other than the most terrible Dark Lords in recent history. It was his archenemy, Voldemort.

"I told you I would find you. I told you that I would find and I will kill you." The middle-aged man was speaking quietly but somehow, his voice could be clearly heard in the ears of everyone present there.

Disregarding everyone there and not caring about losing any shred of dignity he had left, the Dark Lord grabbed his wand and tried to Disapparate. But he only managed to make a twirl and fall on his side like a drunken man.

A mocking chuckle came from the one-armed man.

"It isn't an Anti-Disapparition Jinx so don't bother trying to dispel it. This is magic beyond your understanding."

The dark yellow light coming from the beige wooden pole that was flying very high up in the air locked the entire area around the mansion for miles. It was an Earthbind Totem. Disapparition, portkeys, House-Elves, and even Phoenixes - there was nothing that could teleport in or out of that area.

Despite that he looked like a handicapped beggar with his missing arm and his haggard and dusty robes, none of the wizards and witches present there had the leisure to comment on that. Bathing in the bloodlust of the Totem of War, his green eyes were shining with killing intent.

"You're not going anywhere this time, Tom. You are mine."

AN: The last part of the chapter is a scene from Harry's past life. As you have noticed, he's using an interesting type of magic; you will get to see more of it in the story. I plan on expanding on the world of Harry Potter and the different types of magic used around the world. In this chapter, you got to see a bit of Shamanism, an old magic from Africa.

(1) Ala is the Goddess of Earth in the religion of the Igbo people from Nigeria, Africa.
(2) Ogun is the God of War in Yoruba religion, also from Nigeria but not only.
(3) This is not a canon spell. It's a spell invented by Harry in this fic for the sole purpose of blasting apart warding spells. (Ballista is an ancient siege weapon that looks like a giant crossbow)