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Stars
Chapter 4: The Lynx
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Summary: What if Harry wasn't taken in by Petunia? What if, instead, he was taken in by another wizard who moved into number four after Petunia forced her family to move to avoid taking in the freak? Neutral!Harry
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own character.
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"Remind me why you never told me that you were Harry Potter?" Draco asked, looking at Harry unpacking his trunk. It was just after the first week of classes and Harry had adamantly refused to answer the question, so Draco had cornered Harry. "Not that I mind or anything. But it would have been nice to know."
Harry sighed and Draco added. "And before you say the excuse you told Professor Snape, don't. I know that can't be the reason."
"It is part of the reason," Harry replied. "The other part is because I don't like the fame that comes with my name. Which is why I prefer going with Rowan than Potter. Potter paints a big target on my back that I would like to avoid." He gave a small hum as he activated the wards around his bed. "Since I'm in Slytherin, and all."
"Why did the hat put you in Slytherin, anyway. I would have guessed that the famous Harry Potter would have been a Gryffindor like his parents," Draco said, sitting up and looking at Harry's trunk. "To be honest, I was shocked."
"Because I have the ambition to be in Slytherin? The drive? I don't know," Harry said, shrugging. "Maybe it was because I met you and you seemed like a nice person and I wanted to be in the same house as you?" He snorted and unfolded his sleepwear, starting to strip off his robes. "I just asked the hat to put me in the house that would accept me for who I was."
"Slytherin is a terrible choice then. What the bloody hell was the hat thinking?" Draco asked, watching his friend slip on loose pants and a loose shirt.
"Was it? No one has done anything to hurt me yet," Harry said, blinking.
"Not for the lack of trying," Draco answered, watching Harry fold his clothes. "But the wards on your trunk… around your bed… even on your clothes prevents anyone from actually succeeding." Draco watched Harry flop on the pillow. "No one has been able to cross them when you're asleep. Did your dad teach you how to do it?"
"What wards?" Harry asked blankly, looking around. Draco blinked.
"You… weren't aware of them?" Draco asked. "Well, they're there and they've been keeping other people from doing nasty stuff to you."
"Ah. Dad must have put them up," Harry said, nodding. He paused and then looked at Draco. "What's your family like?"
Draco raised his eyebrows and looked towards the ceiling. "What do you mean? It's my family."
"Do you cook together and garden together? Train together? Does your dad help you with homework?" Harry asked, looking at Draco curiously.
"Cooking is for house elves," Draco said calmly. "So is gardening. My father was mostly out working. My mother taught me spells and history. Anything she couldn't teach, she would hire a tutor for."
"Hm… Sounds a bit cold," Harry said. "You don't do things as a family?"
Draco paused and then gave a "humph". "Father's always busy."
"Family is a pretty strong dynamic in Asia. I know that my dad has continuously sent money back to his family," Harry said. "Even though grandmother says that it's unnecessary. I think she secretly likes that my dad's always thinking of them."
"Your family is strange," Draco said, shaking his head. "I'm going to write a letter to my father. You go to sleep."
"Getting rid of me already?" Harry laughed, pulling the curtains shut.
Draco waited until the wards were up again by throwing a shirt, which hit the ward but didn't pass it, before starting his letter. Dipping his quill in ink, he scratched out:
Father,
As you suspected, Harry Rowan was actually Harry Potter. I will continue to make friends with him in order to learn his secrets and try to learn more about his family. He mentioned that his grandparents live up on a mountain in Taiwan and didn't seem to be aware that his dad had warded his sleeping area.
He seemed pretty attached to his family and mentioned that the elder Rowan was attached to his parents. This can be used to our advantage at a later date.
You mentioned that skilled warding was very rare in the British community, so we should sway them to join the Dark Lord, but it might be problematic with Potter being Rowan's child. The Dark Lord might not want Potter, even if he's a warding specialist's son.
From,
Draco
Draco looked at the letter and reread it before getting to his feet to go to the Owlery. He passed Flint and Parkinson who were whispering to each other and then at Potter's bed. Draco scoffed to himself and shook his head. It looked like they hadn't given up trying to prank the Potter.
Walking out of the Common Room to the Owlery was a journey. Considering that the Slytherin Common Room was in the dungeons and the Owlery was on the top floor, Draco was seriously considering trying to persuade his father to send him a broom. By the time he got to the top floor, he was panting hard and sweating.
He swung open the door to the Owlery and looked up to try to spot his eagle owl, Hermes. Hermes swooped down with a screech and perched on the windowsill, waiting for Draco. Draco tied the letter to the owl's leg and said, "Take this to my Father".
The owl screeched again before taking off into the evening sky. Draco leaned on the windowsill, watching his owl leave and sighed. Hermes would likely be back on Sunday or Monday, considering that Malfoy Manor wasn't close to Hogwarts. That and the fact that Mother was likely to try to send a care package for him.
He turned away as Hermes winked into the skylight.
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By the time Monday rolled around, Draco had completely forgotten Hermes. He was eating breakfast as the post came in. Hermes was sporting quite a large package. It landed in front of his plate, causing many people to turn their heads. Draco stared and gave a small laugh.
"Care package from home," Draco said, catching Harry's quizzical look. He almost gaped with surprise as a large golden owl flew in the hall and dropped a similar package in front of Harry. Harry laughed and nodded to Draco.
"It seems we both have care packages," he said lightly, pulling open the bow. The bow sizzled slightly before it unfolded. Harry lifted the cap and hummed, looking inside. He gave a large grin at the note and picked it up, capping the box again. He recognized his dad's neat handwriting and read it quickly.
I took the liberty of making some snacks from home. Hope you enjoy them.
Study hard and make me proud.
Your dad,
Cygnus
Harry opened the box again and picked up one of the individually wrapped bags. Inside was a white cracker, about twice the size of his hand.
"What's that?" Draco asked, pointing to the cookie while munching on something that looked like a pumpkin pasty.
"Rice cracker. Want to try some?" Harry asked. Draco shook his head and Harry shrugged, unwrapped the cracker, and bit into it with a loud crunch.
Harry finished the cookie before getting up and tucking the box under his arm. He looked at his friend and said, "I'm going to bring this to the dorms. I'll see you later."
Draco gave him a wave to show he had heard and Harry headed out of the Great Hall. He almost ran into Hermione, who seemed slightly surprised to see him.
"Harry! Where are you headed to?" she asked, enthusiastically. Harry smiled and gestured to the box. "Oh! Care package from home? How lucky!"
"You can have some, Hermione," Harry said, recalling that Hermione's parents probably didn't have access to an owl to be able to send a care package to her. "My dad packed homemade rice crackers, pineapple cakes, dried flaky rolls, and candied strawberries." He watched Hermione's eyes go wide and laughed a little.
"Wow! Your dad can make all of that?" Hermione asked, surprised. Harry nodded.
"He learned from a friend in Taiwan," Harry replied. He opened the box and held it out for her to select a couple. "Here. Your choice. The golden square ones are pineapple cakes, the long rolls are dried flakey rolls, the red ones are the candied strawberries, and the white round things are the rice crackers."
Hermione peered into the box and looked at Harry. "Are you sure this is okay?"
"Of course," Harry assured her. Hermione blinked and took one of each, looking quite touched.
"Oh, thank you Harry! I really appreciate it," she said, looking estatic.
"So how has your first week been?" Harry asked, closing the box. "Has it been alright?"
The look on her face told Harry that there was no doubt she had not had a pleasant week. He gave her a look of sincere pity and then patted her shoulder.
"Things will get better soon," he said. "Would you like to set up a time to study together? You're better with practical practice than I am."
"I find that so odd," she said, following him as he continued to move closer to the Slytherin common room, opening the bag of rice cookies and taking a bite out of it. "You can do wandless, non-verbal magic but are absolute pants at spells. Why is that?"
"I've never used a wand," Harry said, sighing. "It feels like I'm shoving my magic through a straw. Extremely uncomfortable."
Hermione blinked. "Have you thought of… forgoing the wand?"
"The last time I tried, Flitwick insisted on me doing the wand movements," Harry said, shaking his head. "Apparently the thought of forgoing the wand had not occurred to him. Like it has not occurred to the Europe population."
"Does that mean that the Asian population don't use wands?" Hermione asked, looking fascinated.
"Well," Harry said, looking thoughtful. "I know that Taiwan does. And from what my dad told me, China doesn't either."
"I'll do some research. It would be awfully nice to be able to do wandless magic," Hermione said. "Well, controlled wandless magic, as wandless magic can be done when someone is upset or angry."
"Well, I know for a fact that my dad doesn't own a wand. He said that wands were for children to help them guide their magic to areas," Harry said. "I don't think he ever owned a wand, now that I think about it. He went to a muggle school in Taiwan, even though his dad was magic."
"What? He never got a letter from a magic school?" Hermione asked, alarmed. Harry shrugged.
"Maybe they don't have one on Taiwan? Taiwan is an island after all," Harry said, blinking. "Or maybe they forgot him?"
"That can't be right," Hermione now looked troubled. "I'll do some research on that too."
Harry nodded and stopped in front of the Slytherin Dungeon. "See you later, Hermione. You can find me at the library later this afternoon." He waved at her and then turned to the stone wall that hid the common room. He spoke the password and entered.
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Harry sat through Transfiguration with a scowl on his face. His eyes narrowed at the matchstick before he glanced up. McGonagall had moved to the other side of the room. He put down his wand and picked up his matchstick to try to get the feel of it.
It, like all the other matchsticks, was made out of wood. The tip where the flame would usually ignite was bright red and the end was squared. Harry scowled at Hermione who seemed to be turning a pile of matchsticks in front of her into several different kinds of needles and then put the matchstick down.
He looked at the matchstick as if it was the reason why he was failing and touched the squared end of the matchstick, murmuring the spell. Before he could even register what was happening, his magic exploded out of his finger and plunged into the matchstick.
There was a colossal BANG that shook the entire room. Ron Weasley jumped so violently that his knees hit the table with an audible SLAM. Hermione screamed lightly. Seamus Finnigan whipped around so quickly that he ended up on the ground, having slid right off the chair. Malfoy grabbed onto the table and looked around to see the cause.
Harry blinked, coughing a little at the smoke that was coming from his table. There was a large black ring on his work area. A small needle rolled several times on the table before hitting his quill and stopping, looking very much innocent.
"Mr. Rowan!" McGonagall demanded. "While I am glad that you have finally learned how to do the spell, I don't appreciate the announcement."
Many of the students gave wary smiles or chuckled outright. Harry rubbed his neck.
"Sorry, Professor," he said, looking embarrassed.
McGonagall swooped over to him and picked up the needle, vanishing the black mark with a wave of her wand. "On the other hand, this needle is perfect. Well done. Five points to Slytherin."
Harry sighed a little as she placed the needle on the table and walked away. Hermione whipped her head around to see him and whispered, "What did you do?!"
"Too much magic," Harry said, shaking his head. "Can I have another matchstick?" He gestured to the pile in front of the brunette.
She passed him another matchstick. Harry rolled it between his fingers, trying to get a feel of it before putting it down on his table and raising his wand. He murmured the incantation and waved his wand. Nothing happened.
Harry glanced up to see most of the class staring at him with baited breath, as if he was going to replicate the explosion. He shook his head and gloomily poked the matchstick with his wand.
It wasn't until the end of class did McGonagall notice that Harry, despite having made one successful matchstick in an explosion, had yet to make a second in the two hour time period. Malfoy seemed to be in the same mindset, though he had yet to make one at all. His matchstick was silver and slightly elongated, but still had a red tip and a square end. Regardless, Malfoy continued to look at Harry suspiciously, as Harry repeatedly poked his matchstick.
At this point, Harry didn't even attempt to say the incantation. He put down his wand and wordlessly poked the matchstick around his desk. He didn't even notice that McGonagall was standing in front of his desk, lighting his match with a cold flame that burned nothing.
"Mr. Rowan!" McGonagall screeched. Harry jumped out of his chair, his chair skidding back in alarm. He held his hand out in preparation to strike, but then froze when he realized where he was.
"Oh! Sorry Professor," Harry said sheepishly. "I didn't realize you were there…" He could feel his face heat up as the class stared at him and slowly lowered himself into his seat, scooting in his chair.
"Yes, well," McGonagall didn't seem to know how to react to that action. "You are to transfigure your match. Not light it with a flame freezing charm."
"A what charm?" Harry asked, looking at her curiously. McGonagall stuffed out the flame and stared at him.
"A flame freezing charm, Mr. Rowan," she answered. "You were not aware you preformed it?"
"Not really," Harry replied earnestly. She gave him a strange look before turning to the rest of the class.
The amount of homework she gave them after the class had ended was phenomenal. Still, Harry didn't complain and let Draco rant to him about it.
"What happened back there anyway," Draco asked, looking very curious. Harry sighed.
"I don't know," he replied honestly. He knew that his control over his magic was very shabby at the moment, but that was only because he didn't have anywhere to practice his control without Dumbledore knowing.
That and he had yet to find where the kitchen was so he could use some eggs.
Draco continued to pester him about his needle and the explosion before Harry finally exploded.
"I don't know, okay?! I don't, Draco! I have never had my magic explode like that!" Harry snapped irritably at a stunned Draco. "I DON'T KNOW! If you don't notice, I'm absolute PANTS at using a wand." He gave the blonde a glare and turned away from him, scowling at his food. He stabbed his meatloaf with vengeance, his anger further fueled by his guilt of snapping at Draco.
Well, if Draco didn't want to be friends anymore, that was fine with him.
Only… Harry's anger diminished a little as the thought occurred to him. Only, I'd be isolated in Slytherin… Draco was right… Why did the Hat put me here instead of in Hufflepuff. The 'Puffs seem more accepting of people than Slytherin.
His appetite vanished with his anger and he stood up. Draco seemed to be sulking and turned away from him. Harry almost wanted to apologize, but then remembered the insistent nagging from the blond and thought better of it. He left the Great Hall, his heart heavy and his mind clouded.
Harry almost ran smack dab into Quirrell on his way back to the dungeon. He blinked a little and his brow furrowed as Quirrell gave him a stuttering "H-he-hello" before stumbling up the stairs. Harry glanced at the back of Quirrell's head, his eyes narrowed as he frowned. Something was off about the teacher that Harry just couldn't pinpoint, but Harry brushed it off.
"Is it my imagination…?" Harry murmured, opening the Slytherin Common room and walking inside, moving up the stairs.
The second he stepped into the Slytherin boy's dorms, Harry noticed something very wrong. The walls and ground was scorched slightly, particularly around his bed curtains. Harry walked swiftly into the room and tugged the curtains open, fearing the worst.
His books and trunk were sitting by his bed. So were his clothes. His robes had been freshly cleaned and folded at the foot of his bed and his tie and socks next to them. His bed was made, even though Harry knew that he had not made his bed that morning.
Harry bent down to check the wards on his trunk. To his shock, the first ward was smoking slightly and had a large gaping hole in it. Harry reeled back in alarm, wondering who could have done such a thing. For them to have broken through a ward that his dad set up took a large level of skill and power.
Granted, this kind of damage was fairly easily repairable. The ward was damaged, but not shattered completely. All Harry had to do was fill in the hole to repair the ward. The inscription was intact, so that meant that whoever broke through his ward had no idea where the inscription was written.
Harry climbed onto his bed and closed his eyes, pulling his trunk onto his bed and touching it lightly. The first ward flared to life and shimmered around his bedside. Repairing the ward took time—time that Harry didn't have at the moment. But at least he could try to fix what he could.
This ward was meant to keep all those who weren't welcome away. It was specifically designated towards people will ill intent, as Harry had asked his dad for something to protect his trunk. The ward ended up large enough to protect his bed area and could be expanded if Harry put more magic into it.
Harry opened his eyes and looked up at Cygnus' ward. Cygnus' magic was a silvery-white that shimmered like pearls, while Harry's was a bright green, the color of his eyes. Harry watched as his magic blended with Rowan's in the ward, the hole in the ward shrinking smaller and smaller as Harry poured more magic into it.
Ten minutes later, Harry stopped to check the time. The hole was still quite large, about the size of Hagrid, but it was at least making progress. Harry got up and climbed off his bed, brushing his robes a little. This would take several days to complete.
Harry brushed his fingers over a ward on the tie on his bed, activating it. A barrier shimmered to life, the green surrounding him making his eyes glitter before vanishing. This ward was a protection ward, similar to the one his dad had put on his trunk, but much weaker. Harry checked the second and third ward that his father had placed on his trunk, giving a sigh of relief when he realized that they had held up to whatever assault the perpetrator had done. His dad had always warned him never to rely on a single level of protection.
The second ward prevented any spells or objects from reaching Harry and the third was activated when Harry was sleeping to protect him from outside noise, magic, or people. Harry looked up at the first ward, wondering who had a chance to do something like that. He briefly contemplated Quirrell, but then thought better of it. After all, the man seemed terrified of his own shadow. Plus, he didn't know the Slytherin password.
Harry took a deep breath, debating on whether or not he was going to go to Snape's office. He paused and stood up, recalling the prefect's message from the first day.
"If there is any issue, please contact the prefects before contacting Professor Snape, our Head of House. We will do our best to solve any problem you have."
Harry paused and thought about it. Would contacting the prefects have any effect? Harry knew for a fact that the boy's prefect would not. He had noticed the boy attempting to dungbomb his trunk only to have it explode when it hit the ward. Perhaps he would fare better with the girl's prefect.
Harry walked out of the dorms and looked at the bulletin board to see if he could find the name of the girl's prefect. Gemma Farley.
Running a hand through his hair and pulling out his hair tie absentmindedly, Harry debated on whether or not to seek out the prefect. There was always a chance that the prefect would use this knowledge against him.
He decided on letting Snape know after Potions. After all, he had his class in the afternoon.
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Harry chopped the bark silently, his eyes narrowed in concentration. It was supposed to be half an inch cubes and he was doing his best to make them so, pausing only to sharpen his knife between cuts. He glanced at his silver blade, fascinated at the sheen and sharpness before sighing a little, adding the cubes one by one in one minute intervals.
He stirred the potion carefully, watching Snape walk by the table. Snape glanced down at his potions and nodded a little. After the first class, Snape seemed to be quite taken with Harry's skill with potions and his proficient handling of the knife.
Harry didn't mind this little fact, rather enjoying the fact that Snape was so taken with him. He was planning on using that to his advantage, after all.
He just hoped his dad approved of his methods.
Harry approached Snape to hand in his potion and paused at the sight of a single silver hair that Snape had on his robes. Snape didn't seem to notice it, but to Harry, it reeked of his dad's magic.
Harry reminded himself that he had to reply to his dad's owl. Perhaps, he could ask his dad for advice instead of Snape. His dad knew more about wards, after all.
Harry waited until the students left, Malfoy giving Harry the cold shoulder as he left. He walked up to Snape's desk, looking up at the Snape. "Excuse me," he said. Snape didn't even look up.
"If you're here to complain, Rowan, need I remind you that the rules in Slytherin house state that you should approach your prefects before bothering me," Snape sneered, not even bothering to look up. "Have you done so, Rowan?"
"Well, no," Harry admitted, "But only because-"
"Then I suggest you do so. The Slytherin Prefect will bring it to my attention if it is a big issue," Snape snarled. Just being around the boy reminded Snape very much of James Potter, even if the boy didn't look like him.
Harry's face fell and he nodded slowly, shaking his head and sighing. "Alright, Professor."
Snape snorted, watching him leave with one eye. Harry decided on his way out, that he should avoid speaking to Snape about anything, as Snape didn't seem to like him much at all. Still, Snape was his Head of House, and while he wasn't exactly nice, he wasn't exactly mean either. Perhaps speaking with Cygnus would yield better results. He didn't really want the rest of Slytherin to know about how his wards worked.
Harry arrived back in his dorm, sighing deeply. The walls and ground were still charred and the ward still broken, though it didn't seem to have sustained any extra damage.
Harry dipped his quill in ink and began scratching out a letter. He wrote the date and a number one on the top of the parchment.
Dad,
The first week has been hectic. I don't think the Potion's Master, Snape, likes me very much. That being said, I don't really like him all too much.
Binns literally puts me to sleep. History of Magic could have been such a fun class, but Binns reads in such a boring way that I can't help but sleep. I am definitely opting out of it the first chance I get. Defense Against the Dark Arts had so much potential, but I can't seem to get into it because Quirrell stutters so much that I can't understand him.
I really want to take Ancient Runes, but that's only available to third years and up. Maybe I'll even learn of things you don't know!
Charms and Transfiguration are fun. I am having trouble with channeling my magic through my wand. Are there any tips you can give me? I know you don't use a wand, but I'm asking for tips.
Can you give me some information about the wards you set up for me? Thanks for that, by the way. Some Slytherin students have tried pranking me and the wards have kept them at bay.
Your son,
Harry
Harry read it twice before folding it up and getting off his bed so he could go to the Owlery. He knew that his dad was unlikely to send any information through owl, though he might send some warded item with him on Hedwig or Helios. Cygnus much preferred talking in person to sending information that may fall in the wrong hands.
Tying the letter to Hedwig's leg, Harry smiled as the snowy owl chirped and took off. He arrived to the Common Room just in time to see the Slytherin Prefect, Gemma Farley, post a notice on the board.
"Flying Lessons," Harry murmured. He paused before approaching Farley. "Excuse me? Farley?"
Farley turned, saw who was speaking, and sneered at him. Harry wasn't too bothered.
"I have a problem. I noticed that someone was trying to sabotage my belongings and…"
"Trying?" the girl cut him off.
"Well, it was unsuccessful, but…" Harry began, but Farley cut him off again.
"Well then, there isn't a problem, is there?" she huffed, stalking away. Harry stood, frozen where he stood and slowly frowned. He glared resentfully at her back and turned his head away from her. Well, if I don't have anyone to help me, then I'll just do things myself!
Harry seethed in silence, glaring at the wall before the loneliness sunk in. He really missed his dad. He missed the family meals and the warm afternoon tea that his dad would provide. He missed the training in the privacy of his own home. He even missed the embarrassing pictures on the walls.
Climbing the steps to the boy's dorms, Harry flopped on his bed, ignoring Draco's loud complaints on the scorch marks. Nott stared at Harry and then at the wards before shrugging as Harry pulled his curtain shut.
It didn't occur to Harry that the scorch marks were created by Dark Magic, which was why the House Elves had not successfully removed it by morning.
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A/N: Read and review guys! I love reviews!