A/N: Part III is much larger than the first two, so I'm breaking it down into sections.

Warnings: AU after GoF.

Rated: M for violence, language, adult content

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or concepts of the Harry Potter verse. All rights belong to proper owners and no profit is made from this writing.

3

Awakened & Unbound

1

Origin

Standing at the precipice of change, still and contemplative, Harry drew a deep breath into his lungs and tried to pretend that he wasn't nervous.

The portkey Professor Dumbledore placed in his hand had yanked him from the confines of Grimmauld place and tossed him into the midst of a forest in what felt like mere seconds. Grateful that no one else was around to witness the embarrassing moment, he climbed to his feet muttering as he dusted the grass and dirt from his clothes.

Nervous about making a good first impression, he had donned a pair of black fitted trousers tucked into sturdy boots. The accompanying black linen tunic had long sleeves that hung just over his knuckles and was trimmed in blood red Celtic protection runes at the edges. Rather than robes, he chose a simple black hooded cape. Hopefully his care wasn't for naught, as magical transport seemed to hate him.

All around him, he couldn't help but note the lack of sound. Birds and insects alike, and despite the dense thicket of trees and the lack of any life, he wasn't afraid. It wasn't like the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts, no, this place felt calm, as if no danger would touch him here.

The path he appeared upon eventually led to a clearing where a quaint brick bridge extended over a wide gulf. Dense morning fog made it impossible to see to the other side. The bridge had no hand rails and couldn't have been more than ten feet wide which was plenty wide enough for him to walk over so he shouldn't have been worried. Yet he was just the same. All around him the world waited, thick with anticipation of what was to come, mirroring the nerves clenching in his belly.

"And I'm supposed to cross this," he murmured aloud. He was glad he had decided upon a light breakfast because anything heavier than the toast and tea he had would have sat like greasy nauseating weight on his stomach. And where was his Gryffindor courage this morning? He had faced Voldemort in a graveyard with only his wand and nerve, crossing a bridge should be easy.

At his first step, he noted the reddish brown bricks were dry, despite the damp in the air. He chanced a look over the edge and quickly wished he hadn't as his stomach dropped at the vision of fog and air beneath him. Girding himself with a sharp breath, he took another step and another, keeping his eyes focused firmly ahead and not on the fact that he seemed to be suspended in the air.

Mid way he felt the air stir. It gathered around him, curious, assessing, forcing him to release a breath in shock at the depth of magic that pulsed around his body.

A voice whispered in his head, melodious and feminine, "Welcome to Swansea, Harry James Potter."

And he felt himself pass through whatever wards protected this place from harm. Magic, warm and loving enveloped him, teasing at the edges of his senses and leaving him filled with a sense of belonging that he had only felt at Hogwarts.

The fog gradually thinned the closer he came to the other side of the bridge. The sun was creeping up the edge of the horizon, streaking the midnight blue sky with hints of pink and gold. The silence had been breached again and now he could hear the low rustle of water and the sounds of animal life. The dawn air was scented with hints of grass and mountain laurel, and most of all a rich dark soil made fertile and ready. There was the shadowy figure in the distance that he thought might have been the voice he heard. He didn't examine too closely the fact that the voice had spoken internally rather than aloud and the person was much too far away for him to hear so clearly.

If he wasn't standing here, he would never have been able to imagine such a place. Children fantasized of sights such as these, of playing at Merlin and Morgaine and the mystic isle of Avalon. Of walking the lands of Rivendell and the Elves before beginning the grand quest of the one ring. And for the next year he was to receive instruction in this wondrous land that he would have once claimed only lay in dreams.

By the time he made it to the landing, he knew the figure was that of a woman but standing before her, he could honestly say she was perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her dress looked like something from centuries before, with its rich sapphire tinted velvet trimmed with golden embroidery and long bell sleeves. She wore a necklace that gleamed gold in the morning light, a fine chain that reached her chest, with a teardrop shaped charm that was as large as a baby's fist that could be mistaken for a ruby but he had never seen one so large or so vivid not even in pictures.

A wealth of rich sable hair tumbled in graceful waves down her back almost to her waist. She had a quiet oval shaped face, the bones delicately carved and skin that glowed with pale gold undertones. A full rosy mouth was curved into a gentle smile of welcome. But it was her eyes that stopped his heart. They were the same green as his. Exactly the same. He noticed because so many people liked to remark how he looked like his father but had his mother's eyes and yet here was this woman, a virtual stranger who had the same eyes as the ones he saw in the mirror each morning. The same color. The same shape.

Exactly the same.

He decided to ignore it for now, a coincidence of fate perhaps, but something to explore later on seeing as she made no indication that she had noticed their unique similarity.

"Good morning, Evan Hawthorne."

The name still felt unfamiliar, unwieldy but Remus had told him that it would take time to become accustomed to it. The three of them had agonized over names for a great deal longer than necessary. For Emmy the choice was simple, just pick something and get it done. Yet he had wanted something of his parents even if he couldn't keep his name.

Remus felt it was better to disassociate himself from any that remind someone of Harry Potter and that included a name that might bring to mind his father given how much they resembled each other. It was Emmy who suggested using his mother's maiden name. At first he had argued that it was too obvious but Remus had countered with the fact that Evan was common enough not to draw attention.

The family name was a fluke. He had seen the row of books on Emmy's shelf by Nathaniel Hawthorne and figured it was as far away from Potter as he was likely to get.

"Good morning," he managed to offer in return despite his disquiet. It was curious that she didn't bear the same voice that had spoken in his head. Hers was low, soft and clear, while the other had been like silken oak. He had never heard of wards being sentient and capable of speech.

"I am Headmistress Dwyn Yvaine of Valmont Academy and I've been expecting you. I'm here to escort you to the school grounds. I thought perhaps I would have to traverse the bridge to retrieve you, as most are reluctant to trust in such a path. Given your reputation, I should have known better."

"You know?"

A discreet nod told him that she did in fact know he was truly Harry Potter. "I received a visitor early one June morning who explained that two students of his would need to attend the Academy due to unforeseen circumstances. Two of his more promising students."

So Dumbledore had explained things, which made sense if he was transferring schools in the middle of his education, especially so close to OWLS.

Wait a moment.

"Students? As in more than one?"

Was it possible that Ron or Hermione could be here? That would be wonderful!

"Come." She placed a comforting hand upon his shoulder. "Let us discuss things inside where we can be more comfortable. You and Mr. Prince have many things to accomplish this afternoon if you wish to be prepared for classes when they start on Monday."

Prince? That told him nothing of the other Hogwarts student identity. There were no students with the family name Prince who attended Hogwarts. Then he felt rather foolish. If he was here under an assumed name, it only made sense that the other student would be as well.

He didn't expect the walk to the school grounds to be as difficult as it was. Headmistress Yvaine led him up a set of steps that climbed up into a mountain. He would have hated to make this trip in the winter when there was cold and snow to battle.

By the time his legs were burning from strain, they walked into a small gatehouse. He was winded and a fine sheen of sweat covered his face. The Headmistress on the other hand looked just as cool and collected as she had when they first started. She must have taken this path many times over the years of her tenure at Valmont and was accustomed to it. It was a sad sign to just how out of shape he was and he had thought climbing the stairs of Hogwarts was strenuous.

"This is Val Hall," she spoke up, waving a hand at the airy gatehouse. There were slender white columns connecting the dome shaped roof but no windows. The floor was a stonewashed granite and against one wall was a huge fireplace that he guessed students could floo in. "It's used for students to arrive who have previously attended Valmont. New arrivals must be accepted through the wards of Swansea first, that's why you were met at the bridge."

"Is that the voice I heard?"

"She spoke to you then," she smiled softly. "I had wondered if she would."

Great, the last thing he needed was to stand out. "Who is she?"

"Swansea of course," she gestured all around her. "Swansea is the name of this entire Vale, from the forests and hills to the rivers and lakes. From Swansea there was the village built and then came Valmont when the people who lived here needed a place for their children to learn. Over the years we began extending invitations to other children to attend Valmont but only a select few."

"You speak as though Swansea is sentient?" He had never heard of such a thing. There was speculation that Hogwarts was partially sentient given the magic that dwelled in the castle and the grounds, even the magical creatures in the Forbidden Forest but never had Hogwarts actually spoken to him.

A frown creased her brow, "Your Headmaster didn't speak to you of Swansea?"

"Not really," he shrugged, "He just said that Valmont was an excellent school with wards as powerful as Hogwarts and I would be safe here."

"I see," she answered very slowly. "Perhaps it is best to simply show you."

She took his hand and led him through the gatehouse to another landing and he almost groaned at the thought of climbing even more stairs. That was before his eyes were greeted with the most astounding sight he had ever beheld in his life. He couldn't halt his slow gasp, or the way his mouth dropped open in amazement.

Slowly his eyes traveled, taking in the expanse of the valley. There were trees, majestic evergreen, strong fir, beech and oak. He even noted some rowan and yew. The river he had only heard was now clearly seen, flowing gently westward and he could see different homes and gardens overlooking it. There were different small waterfalls that fed into the river, though further down, he though he saw a great one that fed into a lake.

Valmont had literally been built into the sides of the mountains forming exquisite multi-level structures built of stone.

"It's incredible," he turned to her with a grin.

"Yes, it is," she agreed with one of her own. "I might be mildly biased. I was born here; I lived in the village and attended Valmont. It's been my home for all of my life. I couldn't imagine living anywhere else. It was a great honor when I was chosen to be Headmistress."

She led him upward again but they stopped at the first structure. "These are the offices of the Professors and workers here at Valmont. There are gathering rooms on the second floor where meetings are generally held. If you're having difficulties, you'll probably be summoned to one of them. There is also a library but it mostly for use by our staff. If you should need something from it, you'll need a Professor's signature for admittance. That's where we shall be meeting your classmate."

"You didn't say what was so important about Swansea," Evan remembered as they made their way down the hall.

"Swansea is an isle of sanctuary. Not like other places that you might have heard of, such as Dragon preserves. They are admirable in their efforts to keep the magical creatures of our world safe and provide a dwelling for them. But no, Swansea is one of few places where creature and human live together in symbiosis. Swansea is one of the last of her kind."

"We're on an island?" She gave him a small nod of affirmation. "Where are we, exactly?"

"Ireland. The Celtic Sea to be precise. Over time legend spread of an isle where magical creatures and wizard lived harmoniously, contradictory to how they were perceived by the magical community. Two brothers, Banadel and Gwynfor Yvaine, were curious and decided to seek out this alleged haven. After two weeks at sea searching the different islands, their vessel was caught in a violent storm. Two days passed before they wrecked on an island that shouldn't have been where it was. It was said the magic of Swansea was testing their worth, before granting permission for their landing."

"What happened to the two brothers?"

"They remained here on the isle for five years, learning and becoming one with Swansea. An account of their findings was presented to a select group at the 1269 International Warlock Convention but they returned to Swansea to live out the remainder of their lives."

"Wait, you said they were Yvaine. You're an Yvaine, right. Does that mean you're related?"

"Yes, I am a descendant of the Gwynfor Yvaine, the youngest brother."

2

Reunion

The library wasn't much larger than a Hogwarts classroom but there were bookcases from floor to ceiling lined with books of all kind. The room was settled much like a personal den rather than a school library. On one of the tables was a full tea service scenting the air with something aromatic with hints of lemon. Seated on one of the couches was a blond male drinking quietly from a cup.

"We're back, Mr. Prince," the Headmistress announced their presence. When the other turned and stood, there really was no mistaking the fact that the other Hogwarts student was Draco Malfoy.

A swath of tawny-gold hair fell casually on his forehead rather than his usual platinum slicked back hair and his eyes burned a brilliant cerulean rather than gray he had inherited. At a closer look, the differences were more than just cosmetic. Malfoy just months ago, had been a pointy little git, his features the sharp echo of his father. This one's face had a more aristocratic bearing. It reminded him of his godfather, Sirius, as a matter of fact. There was no denying the fact that this Malfoy was very good looking.

"What are you doing here?" It slipped out before he had the chance to censor himself. Malfoy gave one of his usual smirks that made his blood heat with anger.

What the hell had Dumbledore been thinking when he sent Draco Malfoy of all people to school with him?

"Possibly for the same reason you're here. I would think it rather obvious."

"Gentlemen," the kind voice from before was missing this time, and when he looked at the Headmistress there was no mistaking the no-nonsense glare that was oddly reminiscent of Professor McGonagall. "I am sensing some enmity between the two of you. I'm going to check in at my office for a few minutes and give you an opportunity to resolve whatever issues there may be so that we may continue with our orientation."

The or else portion of that statement went unsaid but was understood nonetheless.

There were so many questions he wanted to ask. All of them inappropriate and none of his business but it didn't halt his curiosity. Draco Malfoy, Death Eater in waiting, wasn't cozened up to Voldemort preparing to start the next Wizarding world civil war? After all the times he had called Hermione a mudblood, or Ron a blood traitor? What could he have possibly said to Dumbledore to have convinced the man of his sincerity?

"You're probably wondering why I'm here with you and not the Weasel or Granger."

"Do you have to be insulting?" They were supposed to be coming to an understanding, riling his temper wasn't the best way to go about achieving that.

"I didn't say mudblood."

"Yes, that's right. Mudblood. That is what you believe muggle-borns to be, right?" But he would hold his council for a while longer. "So what are you doing here?"

"You could ask politely. I really don't have to explain myself to you." Malfoy's lips twisted into a cynical sneer.

"You do if you don't want me to hex your arse back to the rock you climbed from under." He watched Malfoy's eyes as they flickered from his face, down to his hand that was already itching to free his wand.

"Headmistress Yvaine would probably frown upon such an action. She did, after all, leave us here to resolve our issues."

"I'm not the one with issues," he retorted.

"No, of course not. The Golden Boy is never wrong, no instead he's just an arrogant prick." It was the first honest emotion he had witnessed from the blond and he preferred it to that phony mask he greeted them with.

"You're calling me arrogant? You?"

"Yes, you. I'm not the one who walked into the room demanding answers. I'm not the one making threats. If you took a moment to actually think before opening your mouth and allowing your stupidity to spew forth, perhaps I might be inclined to explain why Dumbledore sent me here!"

He barely held back the flinch of guilt. Merlin, Malfoy was right. He'd rather have Voldemort curse him with than admit it aloud but he couldn't deny it to himself. There were all kinds of excuses he could make but it wouldn't change the fact that he had attacked Malfoy first and with virtually no provocation.

"Sorry." He managed through gritted teeth. It didn't matter that Malfoy was a git and set his nerves on edge. The apology was deserved.

Smug delight spread across Malfoy's face. "What was that? You're actually-"

"Don't push it," he interrupted the ponce before he could continue. It was probably best to stop mentally insulting him as well. "I would like to know why Dumbledore sent you here. Please." Because he knew he wasn't getting the explanation without a little groveling.

"Fine, since you asked politely." Malfoy waved him over to the couch and waited until they were both seated before beginning his explanation.

"When I returned home from Hogwarts, my father was waiting for me in the parlor. The Slytherins knew something was going on during the Tournament. Our parents had grown increasingly cautious over the course of the year. When you came back with Diggory's body screaming about the Dark Lord's return, there was no doubt in our minds that you were telling the truth."

"Wish the ministry were that smart."

"The ministry is full of idiots more concerned with lining their pockets than the truth."

"And you would know," he sneered. Lucius Malfoy had lined more than one pocket to get what he wanted. But he gestured for Malfoy to continue.

"My father was pleased, the Dark Lord had returned and requested all the children of his followers to be present at their next gathering. Needless to say, I wasn't as excited."

Malfoy who had parroted back his father's feelings about muggles and muggle-borns wasn't eager to sign over his life to Voldemort? He found that hard to believe.

"My mother, in fact, was furious that my father would even consider such a thing. My mother refused to sacrifice more people she loved to the Dark Lord. Her sister was practically insane before she was shipped off to Azkaban. Father barely escaped prosecution. She would not allow her son to follow in their footsteps. They argued, it was horrific really."

This was said more as an afterthought, his voice drifting off at the end as he seemed to turn inward to his memories for those few seconds. When he spoke again, the words were carefully measured.

"My parents love each other yet this one thing was tearing them apart. I don't know who would have won if it had continued on. My mother pointed out what would happen to our family if the Dark Lord fell again this time. No one understands why you defeated him as an infant, and now you're," he paused as if sickened by what he was about to say.

"You're you. Damsel rescuing, Parselmouth, dragon outwitting, Tri-Wizard Tournament wining, you! There was no guarantee that the Dark Lord would win and our family would be destroyed in the process."

"So you decided to cover your ass, is that it?" Now this he didn't find hard to believe.

Malfoy looked at him a long time and he could see a muscle working in his jaw. "No."

And suddenly, he didn't want to know what happened. Not if it could make Malfoy look like that. Despite everything, he knew what the Slytherin was going to say. It was right there in the depths of those blue eyes and had been all along. He had just been too wrapped up in his own feelings to have seen it.

"He killed my mother." Malfoy tried to sound unaffected but Evan could see the signs of grief that reached beyond his mask of propriety.

"I'm sorry." He didn't know much about Narcissa Malfoy and he disliked Draco but that didn't mean he couldn't feel compassion for the other's situation. This was still his mother who had been murdered by his own father.

"I'm sorry for your loss." And the words sounded so empty and useless but at least Malfoy understood they were sincere, for he nodded once in acceptance. "What did you do?"

"I renounced my family name." He said quickly, like it would change what had happened. "I watched Lucius kill my mother, because of the Dark Lord and I wanted no part of what was being demanded of me. If Lucius could kill my mother, and they loved each other, what would the Dark Lord require me to do? This was my mother and father. I know how they felt about me, and about our family and Lucius struck her down as if she were no more important to him than a flobberworm for a potion. It was just that callous."

"How did you get away?"

"Lucius was furious but the wards of the Manor are very specific and they ejected me before he could react. I had nothing, just my trunks from school, my wand, and the few galleons that I had leftover from my monthly allowance. I had no where to go, no one I could trust and I knew if my fat-, if Lucius found me, he would kill me. Once that magic is invoked, it can't be taken back. I couldn't go to my friends; I no longer had a family. So, I went to Dumbledore."

He knew that's how Malfoy was able to be here but hearing all of this was still unbelievable.

"Dumbledore is a big proponent of forgiveness but I know he wouldn't have sent you here just on your word alone." Not with everything that was going on.

"You're right. First thing Dumbledore did was summon Professor Snape. I thought I was dead because I know our head of house is a Death Eater, one of Voldemort's inner circle. Then he had Professor Snape give me Veritaserum."

"That had to be horrible." Thinking Snape was going to take him away to be killed at any moment after spilling all of his secrets under truth serum.

"It was only after I swore a Unbreakable Vow of Loyalty that he explained that Professor Snape was a spy. I had to vow to help protect you and do everything in my power to help you and help keep you safe. I stand at your side, the shield to your sword, the blade of your dagger."

The words sounded very ceremonial and he had no doubt that Draco had probably used those exact words. It was true, however, as his magic instinctively responded to the Vow. "I don't know if I like how that sounds. I definitely don't need a bodyguard shadowing me."

"I'm not here to be your guard. I'm here to fight at your side."

"Well, I don't need that either! That's what my friends are for! You know the ones you insult every time you get a chance." And he was so furious. How could Dumbledore think Malfoy could ever replace Ron and Hermione?

"Then why aren't they here!" Draco yelled, his own temper sparking. "This isn't the time for Weasley to be distracting you with Quidditch and his laziness or Granger to be alternately domineering and mothering."

"That's not how they are! You have no right to speak about them that way! They have been there with me through everything."

"And they will be there still." He took a sharp breath, to calm down and then held his hands out in peace before he started again. "Look, I'm going to say something and I'm only going to say it once. If you ever ask, I'll deny I ever said it, let alone even thought it and curse you for a liar."

That had him gaping in shock. What on earth was Draco admitting now?

"You're a powerful wizard." And that made Evan snort in amusement. "Shut up you idiot. I know what I'm speaking of. You're a powerful wizard. Extremely powerful. And I've watched you squandering this amazing gift you've been given all for the sake of being, average," he spat the last word out as if it tasted foul and offensive.

"I haven't done anything to make you believe that."

"You've watched me just as much as I've watched you, so you know what I'm saying I truly believe. You know I'm not lying." And he wasn't because he could read the sincerity in Draco's eyes. "So shut up and hear me because this needs to be said."

"Fine. Finish it. But I know I'm not squandering anything."

"I don't know why you do it. At first I thought it was sheer indolence but I watched you perform in the Tri-Wizard Tournament under pressure and you proved you're capable of great things. You competed with wizards and a witch three years your senior and out performed them in the end. That isn't something to be taken lightly."

He didn't like discussing the Tournament, mostly because of how Cedric was murdered. It tended to make everything else seem unimportant. "I had help, I didn't do it all alone."

"But then I see you slacking off with Weasel," Draco continued as if he hadn't spoken. "Or begging Granger to read an essay for class and it came to me. You were holding yourself back to keep them as friends."

"That's ridiculous!"

"Oh, it's true and you can deny it all you like but I think deep inside you know I'm right."

"And wouldn't that be a first." Draco rolled his eyes at his attempt at distraction.

"And of course there are all the rumors that float around the school at the end of each year that end with you in the infirmary, winning massive points for your house or receiving a special award to the school. I especially like the one about you casting a corporal patronus that can chase off a hundred dementors. I bet Weasel had nothing to do with that."

"Shut up and stop calling him that," he muttered, not wanting to listen anymore as an uncomfortable lurch in his stomach began to make him feel bad. This was sounding a lot like Remus' words to him and if he trusted Remus words for truth then there had to be some honesty in what Draco was saying now. He just wasn't ready to hear it, at least not from this git.

"Didn't you wonder why Dumbledore didn't send the Golden Trio off together?"

"It was for safety issues."

The pity in his eyes didn't help. "He separated you, so you would stop depending so much on Granger's intelligence and start utilizing your own. So that you wouldn't have the distraction of Weasel and would concentrate on your studies. Dumbledore gave you the opportunity to be someone else because he understood the weight of a name. He sent you way from your friends so those small bursts of magnificence can become common place instead of mere luck."

What could he say to that? It echoed much of what everyone had told him. "And what is your place then?"

"I'm your rival Harry. We excel at pushing each other beyond our limitations. That's my duty here. We just have to get past the anger so it doesn't hinder our progress."

"Dumbledore told you that?" Because Draco certainly wouldn't have come up with that. All he got for an answer was another roll of those blue eyes. Of course Dumbledore had told him this.

A rival. He thought carefully over Draco's words. He had long become accustomed to doing the bare minimum as a result of living with his relatives. If he did better than Dudley, he was normally punished with being locked in his cupboard with no food. So he had learned to stifle his potential.

At Hogwarts, he had continued down this same path. He loved magic, and most of the time performing spells and charm came easy to him after a little practice. Sure he was horrible at potions but he knew that was in large part of his not trying to do well and his reactions to Snape. If Ron wanted to skive off, he could put off work and simply do it at the last minute. Hadn't he taken Divination for an easy grade because Ron suggested it?

And he knew he allowed Ron a lot of leeway because Ron was his very first friend. That's not to imply Ron didn't deserve it because Ron had proven himself to be a good friend.

And Hermione was, well, Hermione. He didn't mind her know it all attitude and he knew he relied on her book smarts more than he should.

That was their dynamic and now it seemed Dumbledore wanted to change all of it.

With Draco.

Perhaps they were all right and he needed to start doing better. And maybe with him around, he was holding Ron and Hermione back. If he wasn't always using Hermione to help with his work, what could she have already learned? And if Ron didn't have him to mess around with, or Hermione to help him with his work, would he have been forced to do better? Would there have been any cause for the jealousy of this past year or would Ron have found his own place without being in the shadow of the Boy Who Lived?

"Fine. I'm willing to give this rivals thing a chance if you are." It didn't necessarily mean he was ready to trust him though. Draco would have to earn that. He nodded in agreement, then stuck out his hand in introduction. It was a echo of what Draco had done their first year of Hogwarts. "Evan Jacob Hawthorne."

A warm hand slipped into his to grip firmly. A small genuine smile touched his lips. "Alexei Hydrus Prince. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."