Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter either. It belongs to its creator J.K. Rowling and probably Warner Bros. too. I'm not too sure about that. This piece of literature is simply the work of a humble fan. I also credit Jim Butcher for various themes, subjects, or references that I may use.
Author Notes: This is a Harry Potter crossover with the Dresden Files the book series. All my knowledge of the Dresden Files comes from the books. I've never seen the TV series. For the timeline that will be stated later. Thanks to the folks at DLP for help with editing.
Awaken Sleeper.
Chapter Three: The R in Real
By: Water Mage
Harry stared into hazel eyes. They were light brown near the pupil and dark green on the outer part of the iris. The eyes were locked onto his in an unblinking battle of wills. Harry couldn't take it anymore. He tore his eyes from Aiden's piercing stare. He looked at his parents, frowning with apparent confusion. He made a motion toward the child sitting across the kitchen table.
"Umm…" said Harry, unsure. "Is he retarded?"
"Harrison!" Lily gasped, stunned.
Harry flinched, his neck flushing with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I don't know the proper term. Is he mentally challenged, then?"
James went into a sudden coughing fit that sounded suspiciously like he was trying to cover up a laugh. Lily slid the glass of water she was drinking near him, and gave him a disapproving frown. It turned into fondness as she turned to Aiden. She ran her hand through his short reddish brown hair. He smiled, but didn't make a sound, a fact that Harry was still wondering about. It was why he made his initial conclusion.
"Aiden's just shy," said Lily, smiling softly at her little boy.
James shared the smile, and turned to Harry. "He's perfectly healthy. Really bright, too. He's just never spoken a word."
It was Harry's first day in his new home and his first time meeting Aiden, his little brother. The little boy was strange. There was no other word he would use to describe him. His eyes were bright and they stared at you in a way that stated he knew things about you that you would never know. It was like he knew some great secret that you would never hope to know the answer to. It left Harry feeling unnerved and oddly curious.
"We've had doctors look over him half a dozen times," continued Lily. "Aiden has everything needed to speak. He just chooses not to. He let out loud yell when he was born, but after that—"
"Nothing," added James, picking up the end of her sentence. "He never even looks like he wants to talk."
They still loved him though. It was written all across their faces. He knew parents loved unconditionally, and to be witness to it was enough to make him look away. It was what he had wanted all his life. Now that he was thrust into it the reality of it was much more real than his childhood imaginings. The maudlin emotions they practically exuded was almost overwhelming. The closest thing he had to such a display was the Weasley's, but he always felt like an outsider, as all non-red head's felt when surrounded by the large clan. It was different when it was his own family, his parents. He stood up suddenly startling both himself and his parents.
"Do you guys mind if I go lie down for a bit?" he asked, trying to not to let on how uncomfortable he was.
"Oh, dear," said Lily fretting. "Of course you must be tired. You've had a hard a week. Come on, honey. I'll show you to your room."
Harry followed his mother from the room and they navigated through the foyer and up the stairs. They didn't say a word all the way. Harry didn't know what to say. It was an awkward situation. What do you say to the one person you always wanted to meet? Frankly, he had too much he wanted to say. He just didn't know where to begin. He chanced a glance at his mother. Lily looked just as nervous as he felt. He imagined that her thoughts echoed his own. They walked down a long hall and Lily stepped in front him to open the door.
"We brought all of your things from the old house in Sawbridgeworth," she said hesitantly, trailing off into silence.
Harry managed a shaky smile. "Thanks, mum."
Lily met his eyes, and Harry was surprised at the tears that threatened to fall. She threw her arms around him so fast that he barely missed her moving. He stumbled back as she sniffled on his shoulder.
"Harrison…" she murmured tearfully. "It's so good to have you home…"
Harry swallowed thickly. "I—uh…"
Lily laughed quietly through her tears. "You sound just like your father."
She wiped her face and kissed his cheek. Harry bade her goodbye and quietly closed the door. Leaning against it he breathed out a heavy sigh. His head hit the door with a soft thud. It was definitely going to take him awhile to get used to this family stuff. The problem was he didn't know how to act. He didn't know what they expected of him, and honestly he didn't know what he expected of them. For the last twenty years James and Lily Potter were almost godlike in his imagination. It was nerve wracking to be in their presence. He didn't want to find flaws in the them, and he was terrified of them finding flaws in himself. He wasn't perfect. But he wanted to be for them.
Harry took in his surroundings for the first time. A window with sky blue curtains let in warm sunshine. Harry walked over to a desk and picked up a picture frame. It was a picture of him and his parents. Merlin, he looked young. More appropriately, Harrison looked young. The little boy had to be all of eight and he sat in between his parents on a porch swing. Little Harrison, with his missing two front teeth beamed up at the camera. Lily and James had matching joyful grins, and it was plain to see that their little family was one filled with love. Harry slowly dragged his eyes off the picture. He pretended the pang in his chest was from heart burn.
On a shelf were a collection of trophies and ribbons. Let's see. Perfect attendance. Honor Roll. A few tall ones with a little, gold man in mid-sprint mounted on top. Harrison was quite the track star. At least that was one thing they had in common. Harry wasn't the greatest athlete. Besides Quidditch, running was something he excelled at even at a young age. Dudley and his never-ending games of Harry Hunting in his younger years served to make him one of the fastest kids in their school. He ran his fingers over the huge Terminator poster that covered a good portion of the wall next to the television. He looked at the books in the bookcase and wasn't surprised that he hadn't heard of but a few of the titles, and he only knew those because he read them in primary school. Hogwarts hadn't been big on muggle literature.
Harry opened the closet and took in the clothes. Most of the clothes were brand new. His parents had gone on a shopping spree to help him get settled in properly. There was an assortment of clothes from plain, white shirts to fancy collared shirts, and jeans and dress slacks. Shoes, that looked his size, were arranged in a neat row beneath the hanging clothes. He didn't know much about muggle fashion, but he could tell these were really nice clothes. Harry hadn't asked, but he could tell the Potters were well off. They had picked him up from Summerholm in a very expensive looking car. It looked brand new and he was sure it was fast if the jaguar emblem that adorned the hood was any indicator of speed. The house they lived in was in a neighborhood called Spring Valley, and it sat amongst large mansion homes and tree-lined streets. With the way his curiosity was burning at him, he probably wouldn't last till tomorrow night before he asked what they did to be so well off financially.
Harry took a seat on the bed. He had to start dealing with the real world. He was out of Summerholm now, and he knew that he had to do something about his education. The GED had been explained to him, and it was something that he definitely needed. If he was going to be in this world for the foreseeable future then he would need it. He couldn't stay with his parents forever. Not if he wanted to figure out the answers to his questions. The answers were out there and he had to find them.
His mind wandered to everything going on back home. He shut down that line of thinking quickly. Getting all melancholy would just get him depressed. He was already feeling too emotional over being with his parents. Continuing with all the sentimental thinking would turn him into a wreck. If he wanted any hope of keeping himself together then he had to be a rock. He laid back and a loud yawn made its way out of his mouth. Damn. Maybe he really was more tired than he thought. Sleep came over him with barely a passing thought.
He was dreaming. With that realization came control of his dream self. He looked at the landscape that surrounded him. He stood in the middle of an ongoing field of rolling gray mist. The thick, billowy puffs of gray crawled along the ground, so thick that he couldn't tell what existed beneath the mist. He didn't like it. This place was odd. It was real yet not. A force hummed in the air just behind his vision. But he could feel it. It crawled along his skin like a million ants, making him tingle with numbness.
Thunder rumbled in an unknown direction and like a hidden signal, all hell broke loose. A sudden storm destroyed the silence, and its howling force shattered the slow drifting trajectory of the mist. The ground fog rolled past him impossibly fast, and he threw up a hand as the wind broke against his body. The fog grew thick and impossibly more abundant as it rose up around him like a furious hurricane. It twisted and formed into a giant tornado that swirled around him in a continuous cyclone of gray. Images flashed against the spinning inner walls.
They appeared so fast that Harry barely caught a glimpse before the image changed and was replaced by another one. Three radiant glowing swords. Flash. A group of cloaked men and woman. Flash. Silver coins raining from the sky. Flash. An older image of himself wore a white circlet and stood between two shadowed women, gripped in his hand was a wand with its tip shinning a familiar green light. Flash. A long staff with glowing runes whipped through the air unleashing a devastating inferno. Flash. He tried to catch the face of the staff's wielder, but the tornado suddenly flexed and Harry was flung back as if hit by a speeding train.
Harry snapped awake, gasping. "Shit."
He rolled off the bed and stumbled into the bathroom. He reached out for the sink and turned the faucet on, splashing cool water on his flushed face. He let out a ragged breath and leaned heavily against the counter. Harry closed his eyes. What the fuck was that? His mind whirled with echoes of his dream. It was more than a dream though. After years of receiving visions from Voldemort, he could tell this episode ran right up that alley. He didn't understand it. Any of it. What was that place? Those images? None of it seemed familiar. Were they premonitions? But that was wrong. He wasn't adept at clairvoyance. His failing score in Divination for O.W.L.s confirmed that. Harry slowly brought his head up and stared at his reflection in the mirror. Harry didn't have a talent for divination. But Harrison did. His half formed theory about Harrison's talents just gained some evidence and became a little more solid. Were those images he saw of the future?
"This is unexpected," he muttered sourly.
If there was one thing Harry hated and that was visions. Sure they could be dead useful in a pinch, but deciphering the visions was always a bitch. He didn't have a clue as to where to start with piecing together the random images. They seemed to have nothing in common and they all changed so quickly that he barely took in what he was even seeing. One image in particular stuck out in his mind. An older version of himself with a wand. He slapped the counter. Merlin. There was hope for his magic returning after all.
A knocked sounded at the bedroom door. "Harrison," called James, behind the closed door. "Time for dinner."
"Alright, Dad," Harry called back, shutting off the faucet. "I'll be right there. I'm just washing up a bit."
Harry looked himself over in the mirror. It looked like he got into a fight with Crookshanks and lost. He ran some water through his hair to attempt taming it. It was no use. He didn't know why he bothered some times, he thought, scowling at his image. He looked a bit disheveled, but he couldn't do anything about it. He took a breath and wandered downstairs.
He entered the kitchen catching the tail end of his father laughing uproariously. Lily beamed at him and pulled out the chair next to her.
"Sit here, dear," she stated, taking the empty plate before the chair and loading it up with food.
Harry awkwardly took his seat. "Thanks for letting me sleep a bit."
"You looked exhausted, son," said James, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about anything now that you're home. Things are going to be better for everyone now."
Lily smiled, sitting the loaded plate in front of him. "We get to finally be a family."
Aiden pointed at himself with wide eyes. James laughed and ruffled his hair. "Yeah, you too, funny guy. You're a part of this family."
Aiden smiled with a familiar lopsided grin, and Harry blinked witnessing the smile he saw many times on his own face. His little brother smoothly met his gaze and Harry was again the first one who broke the stare.
"I have a ton of questions," said Harry, picking at his food.
"We expected it. The doctors told us your mind's still healing," James responded, smiling sympathetically. "They said your memories are probably just suppressed. A form of second amnesia."
"Selective amnesia, James," corrected Lily. She turned to Harry. "You can ask anything, honey. Maybe it will jog your memory."
Harry thanked whoever was listening that the doctors bought his act. It made things that much easier. "I was wondering about all of this actually. Everything seems really expensive. Did one of you rob a bank? Are do you do it together?"
James laughed, loudly. "My boy still has my sense of humor."
"I don't think that'll ever change," said Lily, shaking her head.
James finally reigned in his laughter, but couldn't completely wipe away his grin. "I'm Vice President of a business your grandparents started. We deal with manufacture, design, and research in the aerospace field. It's pretty profitable, I guess."
Harry could tell he was being modest. He had seen more than two cars when they pulled into the garage earlier. All of them were new, shiny, and radiated money.
"So the company was started in America?" asked Harry.
James shrugged. "We have offices here and back home."
Whoa. So the business was very successful then. "I know you guys moved here after I got sick, so does that make us Americans now?"
Lily chuckled. "Darling, you were born here."
Harry dropped his fork. "I'm not English!"
James coughed into his hand, hiding his smile. "Harrison, you're both. We all have dual citizenships. You and Aiden were born with U.S. citizenship, though. When your mum was pregnant with you we were here on vacation, and she went into early labor."
"Completely unexpected." Lily laughed, eyes bright with the memory. "Our flight home was actually that night. You were quite the surprise. Since you were born on U.S. soil you automatically gained citizenship. Same with little Aiden."
Harry took in their stories with visible fascination. These were the stories that he always wanted to hear. People talked about his parents all the time. What they looked like, what they were like, but to hear stories come from the actual source took on a different light.
"Are you guys sad that you left?" asked Harry watching their expressions closely.
"Never," answered Lily without missing a beat.
"We'd do it all again if it meant you got the best care possible," stated James, with an empathic head shake. "We still go back on holidays to visit friends. We stay in the house in Sawbridgeworth, or the old place in London."
Aiden clapped hands happily. James snorted. "He really likes the London place for some reason. Always has. Every time we visit he explores like it's an old castle."
Lily raised an eyebrow. "Whose fault is that? As I recall, it was you who showed our son the dumbwaiter. I swear if I catch him hauling himself up that thing one more time I'll have it removed."
James eyes twinkled as he stage whispered, "She says this all the time. It's hilarious really."
His father's amusement was infectious. Harry found himself grinning back, playing along. "I know right. She goes on and on. Nag, nag, nag."
Lily's red hair whipped around and her wide eyes landed on Harry. "Traitor!"
"There, there, Mum," soothed Harry, patting her hand.
Aiden mimicked Harry and patted her other hand, though he was smiling brightly unlike Harry who wore an expression of mock pity.
James thumped Harry on the back, his eyes shining with powerful emotion. "It's good to have you back, son."
Harry smiled and meant it. "It's good to be back."
The days passed and eventually turned into weeks, and before he knew it two months raced by. Harry spent the better part of the two months preparing for his GED. With the tutors his parents hired, along with his parents coaching him, Harry was able to pass the test and obtain his GED credential. He had to study his ass off. There had never been any muggle school for him past primary school, and things like Social Studies and Science were only vague subjects to his mind. Harry could now rattle off the process of cell division, as easily as the five Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration.
The dream that he had on his first day at home hadn't made an encore, and Harry was chalking it up due to fatigue. This was more than alright with him. The images didn't feature him or anyone dying, so he wasn't going to open an investigation. It's not like that was the first unusual dream he had ever had in his life. He wasn't a big fan of the visions, and he was better off if he never experienced another one.
James and Lily had been great. He thought they would be bothered that Harry didn't know a thing about them or his life pre-la la land, but they didn't begrudge him for that. He knew he was acting more like Harry and less like Harrison. After being gone from their lives from so long, the couple was just glad that they had their son again. Harry wasn't afraid to be himself anymore. They were accepting of him, and they went out of their way to make up for lost time. There had been many nights they did things together as a family. Harry had been out to the movie theater now more times than he had ever been in his previous life. That also included going out to eat, the amusement park, and even simply eating dinner together as a family. He treasured these family gatherings and grew to love his parents.
He loved his real parents too. For their sacrifice and for bringing him into this world. Now having experienced a loving family and spent time with them, Harry grew to love them for them, not just because they were different versions of Lily and James Potter. It was probably because he was desperate for parental affection, he didn't think on it, but he loved Lily and James just the same as if they were the same people who 'thrice defied the dark lord'.
Did that make him fucked up? Maybe. He didn't care. He had his parents and he wasn't going to dismiss that. That didn't stop him from trying to find answers. His quest was still ongoing. He had to put it on hold due to the time constraints the GED put on him, but now that was over. He could now devout his full time to figuring out just what the hell was going on. The easy part was done with. Now it was time to work on the harder goals. It was time to get to work.
"Damn it!" Harry swore, striking the backspace key.
The cursor deleted the errant letter and tongue sticking out, Harry pecked at the keyboard before him, searching out the wayward keys that seemed to be in no particular order. How in the hell had his parents and everyone on television made this look so easy. It was boggling to his mind. Harry finally spelled out his query, and dragged the mouse over then clicked enter. The search engine brought up over two million results for magic wands. His mouth dropped and he stared at the unbelievable number.
Harry rolled his eyes and closed the page. "Fucking useless."
His parents had explained to him about the internet and how it was used to find tons of information at only the push of a button. So far his searches hadn't brought up any concrete results. He had tried to find hints of real magic in this world, and looked up people he knew from the other world. He came up empty on all fronts. Nobody he knew existed here. The sites on magic proved to be duds. None of them dealt with the magic he knew, and the magic they listed came off as very fictitious.
"Hey, what are you up to?" asked James, entering the study with a briefcase in hand.
Harry shrugged and spun around in the swivel chair. "Nothing. Just trying to get a handle on this whole internet thing."
James loosened his tie and took off his jacket. "It's getting faster all the time. I've been thinking about buying some stock in a provider company."
There was one thing he had learned about James Potter and that was he was a businessman through and through. Grandfather Potter had taught everything he knew to James before he passed. Evidently it was a lot. His father had a grasp of numbers that left Harry gaping sometimes. Hermione was quick, but his father took it to another level when it came to scenarios that dealt with profits, quarterly reports, and productivity calculations.
"Did your therapy session go well this morning?" asked James.
He refrained from rolling his eyes. The once a week therapy sessions had become partially irritating. He couldn't tell the doctor how he was really feeling and what he was really going through, so Harry and his therapist had a relationship built on lies. Not that he had a problem with that. It was just getting frustrating that he had to keep going and even building on the lies. In the long run it was a waste of time, and he would have to find a way to see that the sessions came to an end. He was tired of the sympathetic smile and endless "how are you feeling now?" that always got positive responses. Once a month he could maybe deal with. Once a week was trying his patience.
"It was alright," answered Harry. "How was work?"
James groaned. "Ask me that in two hours."
Harry smiled, partly in amusement and partly with pride that he had gotten good at gauging his parents' moods. "That bad?"
"Worse," responded James. "Incompetence was the theme of the day."
Harry smirked. "Is this the part where you say, 'and one day this will all be yours'?"
"I was saving that little number for a particularly dreadful day," James chuckled. He stretched his whole body and yawned. "I think I'm going to go make some tea. You want a cup?"
Harry nodded. "Sure. Thanks, Dad."
By the time that Harry shut down the computer and made his way downstairs his father was talking on his mobile phone, or cell phone seeing as how they were in America. He talked furiously into the phone all the while his arm was waving wildly in the air. Harry poured milk in a cup then added his tea. Sipping softly, he watched his father pace the space of the kitchen growing more irritated at "Mark" the longer he stayed on the phone. Finally, James slapped it closed. He glowered at the device for a moment. Harry wondered if he was trying to melt it with his eyes.
Harry blinked. "I guess there's a problem?"
James offered a rueful smile. "Turned out I was being nice when I called my employees incompetent. There's a problem and they need me to personally come and fix it." He picked his keys up from the counter. "Your mom went out to the grocery store really quick. Can you watch your brother until she gets back?"
It was a simple question, but it was important. Harry had never been asked to watch Aiden by himself. For his dad to be asking him meant he really trusted Harry. He didn't see him as the recovering insane son. He was responsible and was getting the chance to prove it. Happiness swelled in his chest. He would not let his parents down.
"I can watch him, Dad," he replied, seriously.
James mirrored Harry's sober expression, and nodded affirmative. "I know you can, son. Take care of yourselves."
Harry watched him leave and the door slamming shut echoed through his ears. He could do this. Piece of cake. He had babysat Teddy loads of times whenever Ted and Andromeda wanted some alone time. He wandered into the living room and found Aiden engrossed on the floor intensely drawing a picture.
"Hey, little guy," greeted Harry, kneeling down beside him. "What you up to?"
Aiden looked up at him, blinking at Harry as if he just realized he was there. Harry peeked at his picture. It was a simple child's drawing of a bed and two stick figures were floating above it or falling onto it, Harry couldn't tell.
"This is a great picture, Aiden," said Harry. "You want to hang it on the fridge whenever Mum comes back?"
Aiden slowly shook his head. His eyes were glassy and unfocused. Harry frowned and rubbed his brother's small shoulder. "You okay, Aiden?"
Aiden rubbed his eyes and nodded. When he refocused he smiled and nodded harder this time.
"Were you having trouble seeing?" asked Harry, concerned.
He scrunched up his face and nodded. Harry cupped his cheek and looked into those hazel eyes. "I remember that happened to me when I was about your age I think," Harry muttered, thoughtfully. "You may need some glasses. I'll talk to Mum and Dad about it. So you're okay now?"
Aiden held up a hand and made the okay sign.
Harry laughed and rubbed his hair. "You're pretty resourceful at the non verbal stuff, huh?"
A wide smile and a shrug was his answer.
Harry shook his head smiling. He had never heard a word from Aiden in the two months he had been here. He didn't think that he ever would. The five year old was perfectly content on keeping up his voluntary silence. With the way he looked at you, Harry got the feeling he was mentally cataloguing every word for the one day that he did feel like speaking.
"I'm going to go get a drink of water," said Harry, rising to his feet. "Do you want anything?"
Aiden shook his head and gave him a thumbs up. Harry returned the gesture and went back into the kitchen. Aiden was a strange little boy. There was no doubt about that. But he was the most perfectly behave and sweetest child that Harry had ever seen. Once Harry had almost stepped on an insect and Aiden had jerked Harry back by his pants leg and pointed to the insect in his path. Aiden guided Harry around the insect, and actually gave it a wave goodbye when they passed it.
Harry returned from the kitchen, stepping back into the living. "Hey Aiden," he called out distracted by the large array of snacks he managed in his arms. "I got us some snacks. I wasn't sure what you liked so—" Harry stopped and looked at the empty spot that Aiden once resided in. "Aiden?"
Harry dropped his armload on the couch and called out for Aiden again. Of course silence was his answer and Harry groaned. Great. He already lost his little brother. He did a quick look in the living room and then wandered into the hall, all the while calling out Aiden's name. They really needed to get him a whistle, a horn, or something. How would they ever know if Aiden was in trouble if he refused to speak?
Harry quickly searched the first floor then hurried upstairs. He didn't have cause for concern, but tell that to his rapidly beating heart and the frantic worry that increased with each passing second. Aiden's room was right across the hall from Harry's room and faced the backyard. Harry jerked open the door, Aiden's name already leaving his lips before the door even fully opened.
"Aiden where are you?" called out Harry, loudly. He turned away and almost exited the room, but stopped as he noticed the curtains shifting in the wind from the wide open window. No. He couldn't have. Harry sprinted to the window. "Aiden?"
He stuck his head out and his heart that was rapidly beating threatened to explode in his chest. Aiden stood on the ledge of the roof that extended out about a yard from the window. Aiden didn't move from the roof's edge, but he slowly turned his head and looked back at Harry. His hazel eyes were serene and lacked no fear at the possibility of the bone crushing drop.
"Aiden!"
Deep magic. What the fuck was he doing? Harry didn't think. His body moved before he even thought the action over. He made his way out of the window holding tightly onto its frame. He licked his suddenly dry lips, and holding tight to the window frame he reached out with the other arm for Aiden. Harry's fingers barely scraped against Aiden's shirt. He screamed inside his mind praying under his breath to not let Aiden fall. He couldn't fall. He couldn't. Not Aiden. Please not Aiden.
"Aiden, come here," Harry pleaded, stretching his arm so far that his muscles protested against the strain. "Come here, Aiden!"
Aiden's smiled beatifically and held out his arms and simply stepped forward, right over the edge.
Harry yelled as his arm reached further out. He let go of the window frame as his grip loosened and he lost his balance. He fell forward right at the same moment as Aiden. Wind bit into him as the ground rushed forward. He grabbed wildly at Aiden and closed his eyes seeing nothingness, as they twisted in midair. All he knew was the oppressing darkness that circled around him, Aiden's body supported against his, as they went sideways through space and time…
Without warning, they landed on something unbelievably soft that sent them bouncing once, then settling peacefully on its surface. Harry opened his eyes. He was in Aiden's bedroom, lying on his bed. Aiden's small body was held tightly against his, both of their grips were so tight that their knuckles were turning white.
"I just apparated," panted Harry, shaking as the adrenaline left his body suddenly tired.
Aiden lifted his head and Harry was surprised, as the boy brought his lips to Harry's ear, like he was about to tell a secret, and to his shock whispered, "Okay now, Harry. Okay. Alright now, brother."
Feels good to finally write Harry with some kind of magic. Squib Harry was no fun. Raise your hand if you think Aiden is creepy!