Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Hannibal or Harry Potter.
Chapter 3: I Feel Like a Monster
"How are you feeling, Hadrian?" Hannibal asked.
It was only moments after Hadrian had completed his transformation. Hannibal wanted to gauge what his mental state was so that he could precede accordingly.
"Papa," was all Hadrian said in a slight daze. His pupils were unnaturally dilated.
"Yes, Hadrian. I'm right here," Hannibal leaned closer to reassure the child with his presence.
"I'm hungry," Hadrian whispered. His blood soaked earth colored eyes locked on Hannibal's, and Hannibal felt the lightest of probes against the walls of his mind palace. Pride welled inside him that he was already attempting such things. He would be a strong and gifted boy.
"Well, we can't have that, my little one. Let's see if we can find you something to fill you up," Hannibal smiled and stroked the dark hair away from his face.
Three Years Later
Sarah Moore ran as fast as she could through the forest. It was dark save for the moonlight overhead, and every shadow seemed to be a monster in disguise waiting to drag her away. Sarah was a runner, and very conscientious of her health. She tried to run every day, and made sure she ate appropriate proportions and foods. This would be perfectly fine, good even, but Sarah also enjoyed pushing her own opinions on healthy living onto other people. In grocery stores she had no trouble walking up to others to tell them that what they were purchasing was wrong and unhealthy. Unfortunately, Sarah wasn't properly trained or educated in physical health and her ideas were often wrong. Sarah often came across as incredibly rude.
After work she had gone on a run on a local trail through the woods. It was a trail she ran frequently but today she seemed to have gotten turned around somehow. Before she knew it the sky was darkening and night had fallen. Sarah prided herself on being strong and independent but in that moment she was scared and didn't want to be alone. As she moved through the forest some deep instinctual part of her, carried over from the dark ages, told her she was being hunted. She ran faster and faster in an attempt to flee whatever was pursuing her. But she wasn't paying attention to where she was going and she tripped over a root. Dirt flew up everywhere as she went sprawling across the forest floor.
A pair of hooves came into her line of view. It was only a deer. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she looked up. Her sigh of relief was short lived and a scream escaped her lips as she looked up and caught sight of what was really hovering over her. It was a monster, a small but a monster nonetheless. Dark blood red eyes marbled with black looked back down at her. The jet-black face was round and childlike. The horns on its head were tiny budding spikes, and its lower half was that of a small deer. If deer had fluffy down feathers as well as fur. An impish smile curled across black lips to reveal a mouthful of razor sharp teeth that gleamed in the moonlight. The monster took a step towards her. Sarah started shuffling back in the undergrowth trying desperately to get to her feet and get away. The beast may not have been taller than she was but the unnaturally long claws, and viciously sharp teeth were certainly dangerous enough for her.
Finally she managed to get herself up to run. But the creature had somehow already moved in front of her. She turned to run the other way but it was there again. The monster giggled. There was no other world to describe the terrifying exclamation of mirth. The childish sound terrified her even more for it meant that the monster was playing with her. Apparently someone else thought so too.
"Hadrian, what have I told you about playing with your food?" Came a deep cultured voice from somewhere in the darkness between the trees.
Sarah was so startled by hearing that smooth, civilized voice in the middle of this ghastly nightmare that the words didn't immediately register with her. When they did her panic increased tenfold. Did he say… food?
"Sorry papa, I won't do it again," replied the little monster.
Terror consumed Sarah as the creature advanced on her. Her last sight was of a second pair of red eyes watching on from the shadows.
Three Years Later
Six years had come and gone since Hannibal had snuck off with little Harry Potter, and turned him into a monster. Tonight Hannibal was hosting a dinner party for several of his friends. It was a celebration for Hannibal's son. The dinner was a truly special occasion but not for graduating from elementary school like their guests believed. No, this was to celebrate Hadrian's triumphant hunts. For the meat for this meal that they were going to enjoy had been provided entirely by Hadrian. The eleven year old had picked his own victims, and then with a little help from Hannibal he'd stalked them, isolated them, and harvested them. Hannibal couldn't have been prouder. His little boy was growing up so fast.
It seemed like it was just the other day that Hadrian had completed his first change. The boy had been terribly disoriented at first, and he had struggled a great deal to control his hunger. No one had been safe from Hadrian's voracious appetite. He'd eaten a neighbor's pet or two, and he even tried to take a few bites out of Hannibal. But Hannibal hadn't taken it personally. He knew it was only natural for one so young to lack control over his appetite, and that's what parents were for. The insatiable hunger would have become even stronger than it had been during his transformation while his body was learning to adjust to its knew center of being. If he had been born a wendigo he would have learned to control it since birth. He had several years of learning control to make up for.
Hannibal had ended up having to lock him in his hidden basement for a short time. He would bring him back his victims for Hadrian to finish off, and to begin practicing his hunting skills. Hannibal had kept him there until he had learned enough control over his hunger. Hadrian had made quick progress but then again Hannibal was a wonderful teacher and a master of control. Hadrian had been a little bit upset when he'd finally gained control over himself again. He had eaten people after all, and even with his transformation and new set of instincts it had been a huge adjustment to the young child's surprisingly strong sense of morality. But Hannibal had ensured him that it was natural. They were predators, at the top of the food chain, and everything else was their prey. With Hadrian's new, fiercer instincts easing the way it was simple for Hannibal to conform Hadrian to these ideals.
For the first two years Hannibal had continued to bring victims home with him. But around the time Hadrian turned seven, when he had gained enough control not to lose himself to the frenzy, he started bringing Hadrian along on some of the easier kills. At first Hannibal only allowed him to watch him. He needed to prove himself capable of following Hannibal's instructions, and so that he could learn new hunting skills through watching Hannibal's own approach. Slowly Hannibal had allowed Hadrian to help him with a kill here and there. Hannibal also took him hunting magical creatures where the boy could test his superior speed and strength against other powerful beasts.
His skills had vastly improved over the years. Hadrian still needed help tracking down his victims and making sure he took them from secluded areas. As well as for the actual harvesting of key organs. Hannibal had been teaching him how to properly wield a scalpel but he was only eleven, and he had a long way to go before he reached the skill level that Hannibal possessed. But with the tenacity and ferocity Hadrian had been gifted with Hannibal was certain that he would pick them up in no time. Hannibal had also taken the time to have regular lessons in the magic and in the mind. They studied the darker more secretive magic and rituals of wendigos. Hadrian was doing well with both, and he excelled in slipping into others minds. He enjoyed the manipulation, and twisting of minds as much as Hannibal did.
The two of them had spent the day preparing this meal, and Hadrian was quite excited to share it with others. They had invited several of his friends from school as well their parents, acquaintances of Hannibal's. Hadrian's cooking skills had vastly improved, and it was a hobby that the two of them enjoyed doing together along with their more illegal activities. There were many other pursuits that Hadrian enjoyed that deviated from Hannibal's own interests. Hannibal had allowed his son the freedom to choose hobbies that differed from his own. He did not want his son to feel that he had to conform and enjoy every hobby that Hannibal did.
Hannibal's own tastes tended to run towards more refined things while Hadrian had taken up more physical pursuits and played both soccer and lacrosse, which was understandable due to his youth. Hannibal enjoyed going to his games to interact with and analyze the other parents. In the past six years Hannibal had never been bored, and he had never felt lonely. As the guests started to arrive Hadrian went to greet them and show them the way to the dining room.
Hannibal could not have been prouder as he watched his son. He wore black slacks and a red cashmere sweater. His midnight black hair was neatly styled. Over the years they had worked hard to find ways to tame its wildness but they weren't always successful. His dark maroon eyes flashed red when they caught the right light giving away subtle hints of his darker nature.
Everyone always complimented him on what a sweet boy Hadrian Lecter was. For the past five years Hadrian had met and exceeded all of Hannibal's expectations. Hadrian listened intently to all the information that Hannibal had to impart, and used that information to better himself. He always conducted himself as cordially as possible, for a child, when in public. In private, when it was just the two of them, things were very different. The people Hadrian met in the dark of the night certainly wouldn't say he was a kind, and precocious little boy. No, they would say he was a vicious monster if they were capable of doing anything besides screaming when Hadrian had his hands on them. Of course this made Hannibal proud too.
"Thank you so much for inviting me, Dr. Lecter. Your son is absolutely adorable," his newest mentee, Alana Bloom, said by way of greeting.
She was a lovely young woman with dark hair and blue eyes. She was one of the few humans whose presence he didn't find utterly abhorrent. Alana was also one of the most promising students he'd seen in a long time so of course he had agreed to become her mentor her during her residency. He wanted a hand in shaping the kind of psychiatrist she would later become. Alana was intriguing. She was one of those rare, truly decent people who had a very strong sense of morality, and truly wanted to help others. She didn't just want to further her own interests. When crossed she could be fierce, almost vicious. She was unafraid to stand up for those who could not stand up for themselves. Alana didn't give up; she fought to the very end, and used her considerable intellect to complete the goals she set before herself. Under the right circumstances he was certain she could prove herself to be highly entertaining.
This was the first time he had invited her over for a dinner party and this was the first time she had met Hadrian. She knew of Hadrian and asked after him quite a bit. Alana was hopeless when it came to children or those that she perceived as being vulnerable. It was one of her weaknesses. Hannibal hoped to exploit this weakness by having her form a bond with Hadrian and in turn with himself to keep her blind to his true nature. Alana was perceptive and one of the few who would be capable of realizing what he truly was. Of course he could have just manipulated her mind to suit his purposes but Hannibal preferred not to use his powers unless absolutely necessary. He enjoyed a challenge and getting Alana to trust him unconditionally without the use of his abilities would be a huge victory.
"He is a very bright child," Hannibal nodded his head in acknowledgment of her compliment.
"You've done a wonderful job with him. It's such a shame about his mother. I didn't realize that she had passed away," Alana shook her head sadly. Yes, she really was too kindhearted for her own good.
Hannibal had long ago spun the story that Hadrian was his child with an old acquaintance in England. He hadn't known about his existence until he was five when that acquaintance had died in an automobile accident, and he had gained custody of him. The story never failed to gain sympathy, and added another layer to his already impeccable mask. People never suspected the busy single father who had stepped up to the plate to care for a child he'd never known about of any wrongdoings.
"Yes, unfortunately she did. Mercifully he doesn't remember much about his time before he came to live with me. So he is spared from the sense that he is missing something in his life," Hannibal responded.
"That and you're a very good father. Hadrian mentioned that he could speak French and Lithuanian. An impressive feat for an eleven year old," Alana smiled.
"I can't take credit for it all. He is very studious child."
"Papa, the last guest has just arrived," Hadrian appeared at their sides. A year ago Hadrian had taken to calling him father in public; although, he was still papa in private. It was a sure sign that his little boy was growing up.
"Why don't you go ahead and take a seat Alana, the first course will be delivered in just a moment," Hannibal led her back to the dining room.
"You invited Mr. Johnson?" Hadrian accused wrinkling his nose at the thought of his elementary school principal.
"He was your principal for the last six years. It was only polite to invite him to the graduation party," Hannibal replied, although he too found the man odious. He was far too much of bootlicker for Hannibal's tastes. The man had known Hannibal was very wealthy, and held a high position in Baltimore's high society. He spent Hadrian's school years sucking up to Hannibal and Hadrian hoping for a place among the wealthy.
"Can I eat him?" Hadrian pleaded, giving Hannibal a beseeching look that was almost a pout. But Hadrian knew how Hannibal felt about pouting and whining so he refrained.
"We shall see," Hannibal said finally with an indulgent smile. The man was rather rude and it was Hadrian's party after all.
Hadrian flashed a feral grin.
The dinner party went off without a hitch. Hannibal had invited those that considered themselves to be his friends. In reality they were those that he found the most interesting to allow multiple meetings, and viewed to be only slightly better than the rest of the two-legged pigs. Deceiving them was simple and enjoyable. After the party, for doing so well, he took Hadrian to hunt his principal. He brought them both into the woods and allowed the young wendigo to stretch the legs of his growing ravenstag form. Hadrian had lost most of his fawn spots but his feathers still had the fluffier down of a young ravenstag. His horns had grown a bit but they were small spikes horns and hadn't yet started branching off.
Hadrian was still a child no matter how much control he had over himself. There were still times he just needed to let loose, and be childish. Hannibal didn't mind allowing him that freedom. Hadrian enjoyed the thrill of the chase so Hannibal made sure to give him as many opportunities to go on hunts as often as possible. He did not yet have a taste for the finer aspects of the hunt and creating displays like Hannibal did. One day he would.
/
The next morning Hannibal woke to the screeching of a bird. He pulled on his bathrobe and made his way down to the kitchen. He discovered Hadrian clutching a struggling snowy white owl in his hands. There was obvious shock on Hadrian's face, and Hannibal had to admit he was a bit surprised as well.
"Why is there an owl in our kitchen?" Hannibal questioned calmly.
"It was taping on the window, and when I opened the window to shoo it away it flew onto the counter. It has a note on its leg but when I went to take the note it started shrieking at me. It bit me," Hadrian glared at the owl.
Hannibal reached out to take the note from the bird. It was easy now that Hadrian was holding it prisoner. He was surprised to see it was an admission letter from Hogwarts addressed to Harry J. Potter in green ink. Hannibal thought after the transformation that the wizards wouldn't be able to track Hadrian down by searching for Harry Potter because Harry Potter no longer existed. It was well past Hadrian's eleventh birthday in fact he would be twelve in just two and half months. Unless… Hannibal took a closer look at the owl. The creature looked like it had been run ragged. It was thinner than it should have been and many of its feathers were missing or broken like it had spent months of its own. Had the poor thing spent an entire year trying to deliver its letter, unwilling to give up its search? The owl would have been a beautiful snowy white owl had it not suffered through so much. There was an intelligence and magic to the owl that was not commonly seen even in wizarding owls. Somehow the owl had managed to track Hadrian down through sheer force of will. Hannibal could respect such a creature's tenacity.
"Hmm, we should feed her. She has traveled a long way and it looks like she could use it," Hannibal pulled out a dish of water and some meat for her.
"Set her on the counter," Hannibal commanded.
Hadrian gave him a wide-eyed look. He knew that Hannibal took the cleanliness of his kitchen very seriously and allowing a bird on it was something that was very out of character for him. In fact it would have been more like him to kill the owl for daring to dirty his windows.
"It's all right, we will clean it later," Hannibal assured him.
"Why would a wizard have sent us a letter?" Hadrian asked as he watched the owl quickly gulp down the water and food. Of course Hadrian was well aware of the wizarding world and its customs. He remembered that he was once a wizard named Harry Potter, and Hannibal had continued to teach him about wizards even long after he stopped being one.
"It is from a wizarding school in Scotland. They offered you a place in their school," Hannibal replied handing him the letter.
"But I'm not a wizard anymore," Hadrian frowned.
"No, you are still capable of learning to use their magic. Of course there are certain spells like the Patronus charm, which are light magic spells that are far too beyond our capabilities. We are dark creatures after all," Hannibal explained.
"True, but this letter is for Harry Potter. I'm not really him anymore," Hadrian noted.
"No, you are not. But they do not know that. No doubt they are desperate to find you, and sent out the letters in hopes that it would lead them to you. You are the closest approximation to Harry Potter there is in this world, which is why this ingenious bird came to you. The others ignored that similarity but this owl was intelligent enough to understand what that similarity meant," Hannibal scratched the owl under the chin.
"Do you think anyone else from the wizarding world will be able to find me?" Hadrian asked his brow creasing.
"I do not know. I do not think so. It has been six years, and you have undergone a complete metamorphosis. I think it is sheer luck that this owl was able to. The others have all given up but not this one. It recognizes that you're not quite Harry Potter and that is the reason it bit you upon trying to take the letter. You are all that is left of him, and that is why it came to you," Hannibal mused.
"I wonder if the wizards still think Harry Potter is alive. They had to have some sort of hope that he was because they sent out the letters. Now, however, that the owls were unsuccessful I wonder if they will continue searching," Hadrian questioned thoughtfully.
"Are you happy you aren't Harry Potter?" Hannibal asked.
Hadrian was silent for a long moment as he thought. "Yes. I'm happy to be Hadrian Lecter. I wouldn't want to be anyone else," he finally replied with utter certainty.
"I'm glad to hear that, now I think we should keep the owl. We can't have her returning to the wizards knowing our location, and she is very resourceful and intelligent. What would you like to name her?" Hannibal asked.
"Hedwig," Hadrian answered promptly.
Hannibal lifted an eyebrow in question.
"I read it in a book. It was the first thing that popped into my head," Hadrian defended.
"Hedwig it is," Hannibal agreed leaning across the counter to scratch the owl's head.
Hedwig hooted imperiously.
/
Later in the day Hadrian rode his bike to the park. He may have been a wendigo with an appetite for human flesh but he was still a young boy, and he enjoyed similar pursuits as other young boys. It was the first day of his summer vacation and he wanted to enjoy his free time. Hadrian met up with a few acquaintances from school, and they played a game of soccer. Hadrian hoped the game would help to take his mind off things.
The owl and the letter had stirred up quite a few thoughts for him. Hadrian hadn't lied; he really didn't want to be Harry Potter. He much preferred his life as Hadrian Lecter even if his father hadn't been completely honest with him in the beginning. His papa had only been doing what he thought was best. He took Hadrian far away from the Dursleys, and kept him from a life of being worshipped for an event he didn't even remember. Hadrian was glad that his papa had chosen him to become his son.
Hadrian loved being a wendigo and all the strength and fierce grace that came with it. He was a predator at the top of the food chain with senses and speed that others only dreamed of having. Hadrian was capable of scenting fear from miles away, and he had the power to control and shape the nightmares of others. There were few other creatures out there who would be capable of overpowering a wendigo, and Hadrian respected his power. But sometimes he wondered what it was like back in England. His papa had told him all about Voldemort and his attack on him as a baby. He had once been the British wizarding world's savior. Hadrian had had a piece of the man's soul inside of him. But it had been destroyed after his first transformation. Or so they both believed. The two of them could no longer sense or locate the piece of soul and therefore believed that it had not survived the transformation.
In the middle of the scrimmage Hadrian experienced an excruciating pain in his skull. It sent him to his knees. Hadrian could hear the other boys calling out to him but Hadrian was sinking inward, into the depths of his mind maze, searching out the cause for his sudden pain. His papa had taught him a great deal about how to navigate mindscapes, taking him on trips into the minds of their victims and even allowing him to explore certain sections of the vast medieval castle made of black stone that his papa had built within his mind throughout his long years. Hadrian had built his own mindscape into a towering and twisting hedge maze full of traps and wrong turns. It was a maze only he and his papa would have been capable of navigating. Even the most skilled wizard Legilimens would have had trouble traveling too deeply into Hadrian's maze.
Hadrian instantly ran through the rows of his maze seeking out the source of his pain. It led him deep into his mindscape in a forgotten section of his mind. The source of his agony was a small building of some sort that had been covered with black thorny rose vines and the thick consuming branches of the hedges. Hadrian frowned as he brushed aside these branches so that he could get a better look at just what it was. When he did finally get a good look Hadrian was shocked by his discovery. Both he and his father had believed that the soul piece that had latched onto his as an infant had long since been destroyed by the darkness of his wendigo blood. But it seemed that wasn't the case. It had merely been weakened to the point of near nonexistence because here it stood extremely weak yet still holding on, and somehow regaining strength. The soul piece inside was moving and Hadrian decided to take a peek inside. It was like being a movie theater and looking up at the large screen. The movie that was playing was that of the view from the main soul piece's eyes. It seemed that he had recently been resurrected.
Hadrian was perturbed. He strengthened the walls around the soul shard in an attempt to stifle the agony it was causing him. The cause of the pain seemed to be from the soul's attempts to take over more space in Harry's mind as it was revitalized from the surge of power from its main soul piece. A link had developed between the soul fragment lodged in Hadrian's mind, and the main soul allowing the influx of power. Hadrian worked quickly to put a stop to the link. He only hoped that it would work. His papa had been training him in the mind arts but this was a connection that even his papa was unfamiliar with. Such soul link between living beings was unprecedented. Hadrian could only hope to put a stop to the link temporarily to keep Voldemort from discovering the connection. A more permanent solution would need to be discovered before Voldemort discovered the link between the minds and exploited it.
When he finished blocking the link and closing off the soul piece in an even tighter cage he finally allowed his mind to float back into consciousness. He woke to find his papa hovering over him. Worry clear in his maroon gaze as he knelt on the ground his fine green plaid suit. Hadrian was still lying in the grass in the park. His papa had sent his friends off and stood watch over him.
"I sensed your pain, and came as quickly as I could. I was just about to come in after you. Initially, I did not want to disturb you in the event it caused further problems, as I did not know the cause of your malady. What happened, my little one?" his papa questioned in concern.
Hadrian highlighted the pain he had felt, and what he had witnessed inside his mind.
His papa frowned. "May I take look?"
Hadrian nodded his acceptance. His papa took a quick cursory look through his mind, and checked over the restored soul piece.
"Hmm, I had thought it had been destroyed in the initial change. However, it appears it was so weakened that its aura became nearly nonexistent, and the soul itself became dormant. This is why we did not detect it sooner. Now that Voldemort has been restored so too has the soul piece. It seems as if the dark wizard has gotten his hands on a power source to restore himself. His restoration will cause you great problems, and we need to remove the soul shard as soon as possible."
"And how are we supposed to do that?" Hadrian questioned.
"Over the years I have thought of several ways to safely remove a soul shard from a living creature. It was a puzzle that I did not have the answer to when you were younger. I always regretted the missed opportunity to study a horcrux firsthand. But of course your safety came before such explorations. I think I can safely remove it from you now and transfer the soul piece to another object."
"I don't like the thought of someone's else's soul leeching off mine," Hadrian's nose wrinkled in disgust. For the moment the fragmented wizard was unaware of the connection and that a piece of soul resided in another living being. Hadrian wanted to keep it that way. Who knows the power the wizard would gain from having unfettered access to a wendigo's mind.
The two of them returned home. His papa set up the ritual using a mixture of his blood and the venom of a young basilisk the two of them had slain together a year before. Hadrian watched with interest as his papa drew dark and ancient runes in a language known only to wendigos. His papa had been teaching him some of them and Hadrian knew enough to recognize the ones on the floor were to separate and contain. Once the runes were complete Hadrian stood in the center with a small ornate silver box, which would be the new vessel for the soul shard. His papa took his true form standing nearly seven feet tall on his cloven hooves and seeming even taller thanks to the twisting sharp peaks of his horns. He slowly began to circle as he invoked the runes. As the power flooded the basement, and whipped around him, his papa placed his hands onto his forehead. It almost felt as if his hands were going straight through his skull to pluck out the soul fragment, and drag it out of him.
The soul piece didn't want to leave its safe and comfortable home where it had resided for the last decade. But Hadrian's papa wasn't backing down. He gripped the fragment in a strong firm hold and yanked it out of him. The soul shard tried to grapple for purchase and tried to digs its claws in. Hadrian had claws of his own. On a silent command the roses within Hadrian's mind surged up and attacked the foreign entity. With nothing else to hold onto the soul piece lost its grip on Hadrian's mind and his papa was able to safely pull it free from him. The piece was then settled into the silver box.
The entire endeavor lasted less than five minutes but it left both wendigos reeling with exhaustion. The newly created horcrux was put away in a safe location in the basement. Hadrian and his papa climbed the stairs for a quick meal before going to bed early to recharge their strength. They were both relieved that the ritual had been a success. There would be plenty of time to examine the horcrux and learn more about the wizard's intentions after they had rested. His papa gave a quick kiss to his hair that had Hadrian giving him a hug back. Hadrian was growing older and therefore less prone to fits of seeking physical comfort from his papa. In this instance Hadrian was willing to overlook that he was almost twelve. The resurgence of the soul fragment had scared him a bit and he wanted the comfort that his papa offered him. He was used to being the fiercest hunter around. Hadrian hadn't liked that he had been momentarily incapacitated, and was resolved that he would never feel that way again. He wanted to hunt down the wizard that had dared try to kill him a baby and prove that he was the superior predator. He would need to grow up a bit first but with his papa's help he knew he would be more than capable of laying waste to the dark wizard or anyone else who threatened him.
/
Six years had come and gone since the brutal murder of the Dursleys and the disappearance of the wizarding world's savior. Albus Dumbledore Headmaster of Hogwarts and one of the leaders of the wizarding had held out hope that there still might be a chance that Harry was alive. The alerts and security measures that Dumbledore had placed on Harry indicated that Harry had never been physically or magically harmed. There was no sign that he had perished. Harry should have been alive somewhere out there. Unfortunately, all of their searches for their boy savior were utterly fruitless.
Dumbledore had been hopeful that Harry's Hogwarts letter would help them find the missing child where all other methods had failed. The magic was ancient and strong, and capable of finding any magical child who had been born within the borders of Hogwarts school district. Dumbledore had continued to send out letters several months into the school year. The owls all returned, save for a few newer delivery owls that had gotten lost and never made it back. But none of them had made it to Harry or at least they never received a response back. However, by the time Halloween rolled around he quickly realized that there was no hope of finding him through the letters, and he stopped sending them. The only reason the owls wouldn't have been able to find Harry was because the boy was dead. The hope that the Boy-Who-Lived was alive fizzled out. Dumbledore himself had given up. There were no leads as to who his killer might have been, and it seemed that the prophecy was no longer relevant. The wizarding world finally mourned the passing of their boy hero.
By the end of the school year Dumbledore had several other more pressing problems to deal with anyway. Voldemort had been possessing one of his professors all year, and managed to get his hands on the Philosopher's Stone. Several students had tried to stop him but they were unsuccessful in making it through the traps protecting the stone. With the stone Voldemort had been able to make himself a new body, a body that was more powerful than his previous one due to the regenerative properties of the stone. The wizarding world was in an uproar. Some believed that Voldemort had returned while others strongly insisted that it was all a ruse.
However, when Voldemort broke out the prisoners in Azkaban they soon realized their error. The Dark Lord was fully restored to his full power, and the boy that had saved them last time was long dead. Voldemort disappeared after the breakout to plot and scheme but his interference brought to light new information that had been hidden for the past ten years. Sirius Black was discovered to be an innocent man when Peter Pettigrew was found to be alive and well having spent the last eleven years living as a rat. When Voldemort returned he had eagerly returned to the Dark Lord's side revealing the fact that he had been one of his followers the entire time. With his name cleared Sirius Black was out for revenge. With the death of his godson he had very little left to lose. He gave his family home to be the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, which had been reinstated as soon as Voldemort had restored his body. Sirius devoted the rest of his life to seeing Voldemort destroyed, and to discovering what truly happened to his godson.
So I was wondering if anyone reading is an artist or would be interested in maybe drawing something of ravenfawn Harry. If you are please let me. I would really love to see little wendigo Harry.
Also now that there have been three chapters can anyone guess the song the chapter titles are from? :)