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Chapter 5: The Harp
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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.
A/N: Thanks to everyone who took the time to review, favorite, and/or follow! It means a lot to me!
Honestly, I never thought this would be popular. Who knew!
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Harry looked up as Hedwig returned the next morning with a letter in her beak. The owl dropped it on his plate before resting on his shoulder, as if waiting to see what Cygnus had replied. Harry smiled as he tore open the envelope, a small silver charm in the form of a necklace falling on his lap.
Protection to your person.
Be careful. You know why I won't go into detail on it. Restoring the ward will have to wait, but this will protect you against the basics of magic.
Harry paused in the letter to put the necklace on. For what Cygnus considered the basics were most people's advanced, highly unusual magic. He wouldn't have been surprised to find out that Cygnus only put the term "basics" so that any monitoring of his owls wouldn't trigger any alarm.
Wards were beautiful in the fact that they could be placed on almost anything solid. True, liquids couldn't exactly be warded, though the cup holding the liquid could. Triggers, in Cygnus' case, were activated by Harry.
Harry had yet to finish restoring the ward around his bed—the hole being very hard to seal shut, but it had shrunk in diameter. The break was about the size of an orange now, only closing slower and slower each time Harry poured magic into it. Completing the ward was always the hardest part. Harry wondered if his dad had any tricks to teach him. He glanced back down at the letter.
Be on your guard. If they can get through my first ward, you'll have to rely on your skill. You better have been practicing your magic and training because we'll be heading to my parent's place over Christmas. Good luck trying to climb the mountain without the training.
Harry went pale and mentally swore to himself to start physical training again as soon as possible. He could still recall the rather humiliating event of asking Cygnus to carry him up the mountain three years ago because he ran out of stamina halfway up.
Things are going smoothly so far. I will update you when you return for the holidays.
Cygnus
Harry sighed with a level of relief and smiled a little, folding the letter and writing down a number one in the upper right hand corner. It was a trick that Cygnus had taught him back home to determine whether his mind had been messed with.
He tucked the letter away and stood up, sipping his pumpkin juice. So far, Dumbledore had not tried anything, but that didn't mean Dumbledore didn't have anything planned. And Snape had not approached him at all, meaning that he either didn't hear about the burned marks or didn't care. Either way, Harry wasn't going to bring it up again.
Harry headed to the dorm to put the letter away before moving outdoors to flying class.
The grounds were cool and the wind was gentle. Harry rather appreciated the soft grass under his feet and the mild temperature of the autumn day. He would have loved to nap under the tree near the lake on a day like this, but, unfortunately, he had classes to get to and homework to finish.
He spotted a bush of red hair in the crowd and stood next to Draco. Draco was still not on speaking terms with him, but at least he had stopped glaring at him. Harry was more used to the ignoring than the glaring anyway so it didn't bother him that much. At least he wasn't attacking him like some of the other Slytherin students.
Without Draco to talk to between classes, Harry had noticed the people trying to attack him. It seemed like, whenever he was walking between classes, getting a drink, going to the bathroom, or even when he headed back to his rooms, someone whipped out their wand to either hex him or try to trip him up. He had caught three instances between two classes that were literally five minutes of walking distance. Luckily, the hexes simply bounced off the active wards and the tripping him up by creating pitfalls for him to step into were easily avoided.
Harry glanced at Madam Hooch and then at his broom. He was… supposed to talk to it? Harry sort of doubted that the broom would respond to mere speech so he raised his hand and closed his eyes, trying to pull the broom up.
The broom shot to his hand. Harry staggered a little, sighing. This was much like his wandless magic that Cygnus had him do every morning. To move things, to extend his magic, to bounce an egg without breaking it…
Speaking of that, Harry still had to practice.
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Contrary to what the public thought, Albus Dumbledore knew that he wasn't always right, all good, or all Light.
Albus looked around his study before standing up and looking out the window to Potter. Potter was having his first flying lesson today, which meant that he would likely fall in love with Quidditch soon. Albus could certainly see Potter loving the sport as much as his father.
He had felt slightly guilty at leaving Harry with his relatives. He knew they wouldn't treat the child right—if Lily Potter's comments about her sister didn't satisfy, then Minerva's observations certainly sealed it. Regardless, in the end, he would be kept away from the fame and the spotlight. Away from the Death Eaters who were still on the prowl. Away from Black, who had betrayed the Potters.
Imagine his surprise, when a foreign wizard took the boy in and fed him.
Albus knew that the man had fed the boy his magic. It was a standard custom in almost all Asian countries to feed their child magic. That was why magic that ran in families became stronger after every generation. Even if the child was not blood related, it could still be fed magic through the milk.
The trick was that the magic had to be given willingly and that the magic was untainted.
Cygnus Rowan was unique in that his magic was untainted by Dark Arts. Untainted by blood, pain, or weakness. Even Albus, himself, had blood on his hands—his magic. He had killed quite a few people in the wars he was forced in. To find someone so pure was unheard of in the British community. It came to no surprise that Cygnus was a warding specialist. The wards they set up with their magic were not responsible for any deaths. Instead, if anyone died due to the wards, the intruder was the one responsible. Such was the case in defensive magic.
Since Cygnus had already been feeding the child his magic, Albus was stuck. Albus was eternally grateful that he did his research before he had visited Cygnus all those years ago, despite the several hour delay. The problem was that the Goblins would recognize the magical feeding as a bond and write up the adoption papers for Cygnus. Albus couldn't have that. So he offered to do it for Cygnus instead.
Albus knew that it was morally wrong to hide the fact that Cygnus had not adopted Harry in the magical world. He knew that he would be in serious trouble if Cygnus pressed charges. But Albus needed that link to Harry. Especially since he needed to be able to teach Harry the things he needed to know.
Such as Occlumency.
Legilimency was highly illegal to use on students without their parent or guardian approval. But for Harry to learn Occlumency, he would need to be Legilimenced. There was no way around that.
To hunt for the Horcruxes… he would need to have guardian permission. To destroy Tom Riddle once and for all.
He did feel bad that he was pushing all the responsibility on a child, but there was nothing to be done. He could recall the records of the disasters of ignored prophecies. Most of the time, they would come to pass regardless. Or they would destroy families, friends, towns, communities before coming to pass. It was far more preferable to play out a prophecy and have some level of control over it.
Albus was glad that Cygnus was able to give Harry a normal childhood. Granted, the sorting of Harry into Slytherin had taken him by complete surprise. He had been so sure that Harry would be a Gryffindor like his parents, but that wasn't a big deal.
But now that Harry had entered Hogwarts… Albus would have to train him. For that reason, he had hidden the Philosopher stone in the castle. He needed Harry to cultivate his observation skills, his researching ability, and his morals. He would need these skills in the search for Horcruxes.
Albus hesitated before reaching up to pet Fawkes. Fawkes gave a soft thrill before looking at him. Albus smiled lightly in return and spoke gently.
"We must be prepared for Tom's return. Harry must be prepared." He dropped his hand and looked back out the window at the grounds.
Albus was aware of the wards Cygnus had installed in young Harry's trunk and on his person. Truthfully, he was grateful for those wards. He was well aware of students attempting to attack the Boy-Who-Lived and the wards were a very good deterrent.
For that reason, Albus had not banned the wards or taken them away from the boy. He was sure that Cygnus knew that Harry would need extra protection. Having worked with the goblins, even if it wasn't close, Cygnus would have picked up the knowledge of Harry's fame and fortune. He knew that the goblins hadn't informed Cygnus of the magical adoption process, as goblins looked to magic which was mostly blood relations.
At least, Harry Potter would not have the neglectful, shallow childhood that awaited him on Petunia's doorstep. Cygnus would never had allowed that. Especially after Dumbledore had said what he had said all those years ago in Cygnus' new house.
Albus closed his eyes and smiled. He didn't have the answer to everything. But at least, he was sure that Harry would do what needed to be done. Whether he liked it or not since Voldemort was rather insistent on pursuing him. And Cygnus—a rare and powerful wardmaster—would assist his son and perhaps his Order when he called them back.
Fawkes gave a small musical chirp and Albus looked at him. Albus knew that Voldemort was still out there. Still biding his time. Against over fifty years of knowledge, Harry needed this kind of training as fast as possible.
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Harry glanced at the other Slytherins, frowning as he saw them steal Neville's Remembrall. Harry turned his head a little, pretending not to notice, but then Neville whimpered a "give it back. It was from my Gran."
Debating on whether it was worth getting in trouble for, Harry turned back to the group and extended a hand. "Hand it over, Goyle."
"Why should he?" Draco snapped. "Sticking up for a fellow Gryffindor, Potter? Why were you sorted into the house of Snakes. You're weak. Not like the rest of us."
Harry felt himself bristle before giving a dark glare. "And you would risk the House of Longbottom's ire by going on with this charade? How very un-Slytherin of you, Malfoy. Do recall that the Longbottoms are a pureblood line."
"Seems wasted on him," Draco sneered. "Barely a squib, he is."
The other Slytherins laughed, but Harry didn't. He simply gave a grim smile.
"So what? I don't see your family the shining example of power," Harry replied. Draco dropped the broom and snarled, whipping out his wand.
"YOU-!"
Harry already had his out, his eyes flashing. He pointed it straight at Draco. "Try me, Draco. I promise, my dad's wards are stronger than anything you try to throw at me. I can hex you faster than you can blink."
"You can't even transform a needle into a matchstick," Draco sneered, looking nervously at the wand aimed between his eyes.
"And the resulting explosion will take out one of us, and I assure you it won't be me," Harry responded, frowning. "I repeat, hand it over, Goyle."
Draco glanced at Goyle who grunted and then tossed the Remembrall high up in the air. Harry kept his eyes on it and dashed towards it, ignoring the flashes of light that barely missed the ends of his cloak and extended his magic up.
Concentrate. It's like an egg. Fragile. Be careful not to break it!
Harry could feel his magic extend, but wasn't sure what the impact was going to look like. He still hadn't quite gotten the hang of bouncing an egg on his magic a hundred times, though the most he had gotten was twenty three.
To his immense relief, the Remembrallsimply slowed down, plowing right through the thin layer of magic Harry had thrown up to soften the fall of the glass ball. Harry scrabbled for it but then managed to catch it in his left hand before it hit the ground. He gripped it in his hand, glancing at the clear smoke and then sighing as he made his way back to the other students. He offered it to Neville, who seemed immensely relieved to see it unbroken.
"What's the function of such an item?" Harry asked, looking at the students. "Why bother having a glass ball that tells you that you've forgotten something without telling you what you forgot?"
Neville looked about to object before the question sunk in fully and he tilted his head in thought. "I… don't know." He replied finally after contemplating several minutes. Harry shrugged before turning away.
"For a Slytherin, he's really not all that bad," Ron Weasley whispered to his neighbor, Seamus. Seamus grinned.
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Harry took a deep breath before closing his eyes and calming his body. He felt his magic wash the empty classroom in waves, wrapping around some objects and lifting the lighter ones. He reached into his pocket to pull out his wand.
It felt like a piece of wood in his hands, but Harry tried pushing his magic through the wand, whispering the incantation for the levitation charm. He squeezed his magic through the wand, compressing it into a small tube and trying to force it through the wood. The wandtip exploded in a shower of sparks, the desk he was trying to levitate shooting up and planting into the stone ceiling.
Harry was dazed by the blast, looking up in exasperation. The desk was embedded into the stone quite deeply, his magic swirling around it, keeping it there. Harry pulled his magic back to his hand, but the desk remained on the ceiling, small pieces of stone falling on the ground gently.
Harry rolled his wand between his fingers, contemplating the idea of forgoing the wand altogether. Instead, he pocketed it and sat down in a chair, trying to think of how other students, particularly Hermione Granger was able to cast spells.
Unfortunately, Harry couldn't see other people's magic unless they directly interacted with his own. It meant that he could not observe Hermione casting the spell and imitate how she was doing it. He would have to try things himself.
Harry pulled out his wand again and thought for a minute. Hermione had mentioned that wandless, non-verbal magic was rare. That meant that most of the wizarding population in Britain did not have as much control over their magic outside of their wand. Harry just had to find the difference between using a wand and not.
Without putting magic through the wand, it was a pretty flimsy stick. Harry knew this from his experimenting. The question was, how was he to push magic through the wand without it exploding?
Perhaps this was why his dad never used a wand. Harry had tried segmenting his magic and pushing only a little through the wand at a time, but those only resulted in smaller explosions. It was a miracle his wand hadn't exploded yet.
Harry pointed his finger at the desk, pulling it out of the stone and setting it carefully on the ground again. The wood was splintered, the metal was bent, and the legs were uneven, but Harry turned away from it anyway.
If his wand was a straw, instead of pushing magic in one end to reach the other, perhaps something had to pull on the other end? But how was he going to do that?
Harry waved his wand, frowning a little as he murmured the levitation charm again. Nothing happened, but Harry didn't expect anything to happen. His magic wasn't being shoved into the wand.
Harry pointed it at several objects in the room like various desks, chairs, and even a piece of parchment that he had found on the desk. How was he going to pull his magic through the other end without extending his magic out?
Harry waved his hand at the tattered desk, whispering the incantation. The desk floated several feet off the ground, supported by his magic. On a whim, Harry pointed his wand at the desk, whispering the incantation once again.
To Harry's surprise, his magic pulled through the wand easily with almost no effort. Harry frowned, watching the desk fly up and remain in the air, supported by his magic. He was pretty sure this wasn't the right way to do it, as his magic was naturally attracted to extensions of his magic, but without definite proof, he couldn't deny that the result was that it had worked.
But why bother extending your magic to an object without doing anything to wield a wand? Harry thought desperately. It would be much easier if you could just manipulate your magic the first time to cause the effect instead of wasting a second step of pulling out a wand and casting.
Logically, though, Harry knew that it wasn't viable. Things like curses and jinxes… spells that you shoot at people rather than manipulating objects… you couldn't possibly extend you magic out to attach to the opponent.
Unless you did it to create a target…
But that was stupid! If someone had time to create a target, he would have shot them already. Wasting magic on creating a target was foolish, especially in a life or death battle.
Harry would need to experiment more if he was to get a definitive answer to his questions.
Lowering the desk to the ground, Harry looked at his holly wand and sighed. He really didn't like to do this in a place where he could potentially get caught, but it was better than nothing. He needed to catch up with his classmates.
Speaking of catching up to his classmates…
Harry could feel the grin spreading across his face as he hatched a plan to get the Slytherin students back.
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A couple weeks later, Harry was laying on his bed after classes. The hole in the wards was completely fixed with a combination of his and his dad's magic and he was sure that it was much tougher than they were before. He had just closed his eye when an explosion was set off in front of his wards, a shrill scream echoing through the dorm.
Harry closed his eyes, pretending to sleep, though he could hear laughter and a "Wow, Pansy. You just got inked." That was closely followed by another splash and a yell. Pansy cackled with laughter.
"I'll get you Pot-head!" she shrieked, but then slapped a hand over her mouth. Harry snorted inwardly. If he hadn't been awake then, he would have woken up at the first yell. And she wouldn't have been able to get him even with a new person each time.
He had tried to brainstorm who had broke the wards, but came up with almost nothing. He suspected that, perhaps Quirrell wasn't as dumb as he acted in class, or that perhaps Professor Snape tried to break them to see how strong they were, but he always felt like he was missing something vital.
Harry sighed as the wards activated a third time and a yelp joined the two that had already tried. Thankfully, the wards were set so that anyone who attempted to cross them without an explicit invitation would get a nasty shock.
The whole school was shocked the next morning as three Slytherins, Pansy included, were sporting colorful, sparkling afros. Harry merely ate his eggs and bacon, watching people gape at the three. He turned to the post he was reading and hummed lightly, ignoring the chatter. He had more things to worry about.
After reinforcing the wards, Harry had decided to set some harmless traps to those who attempted to breech the wards. Hopefully, it was a better deter than consistent failing. Harry had yet to pull any hurtful pranks but he wasn't opposed to it. He still had itching powder that he had brought…
Harry smiled a little, thinking about the things he could do without getting trouble. He would need to plan his next move, but there was no rush.
Looking up at the post still filtering in, Harry smirked. He still had so much he could do here… Cygnus would understand. Being alone and friendless wasn't exactly comfortable. Cygnus cared about him, Harry knew, and had always provided the necessities, but anything beyond that had to be earned. Friends had to be earned. And obviously, Harry was hanging in the wrong crowd.
Harry would give it two more weeks before trying to integrate into another house. His first choice would be Ravenclaw.
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The night of the Halloween feast, Harry sat down at the Ravenclaw table. There was initial puzzlement, but most of the school had seen Harry being picked on by other Slytherins. Still, one Ravenclaw approached him.
"You're at the wrong table, Rowan," a girl said. A prefect, by the looks of it, as Harry could see the badge.
"I'm at the table without stupid people," Harry said reasonably. "Those idiots at my table won't stop attacking me so I've moved." He sighed a little, shaking his head. "All their gossip is about Quidditch anyway. How dull. They don't have anything intelligent to say."
The girl tilted her head before shrugging. "Right. Well, what can you expect if you get sorted into Slytherin?"
Harry sighed and shook his head. "So I'm extending my reach to the smartest kids in the school in hopes they aren't the house dividing bigots of the century. You aren't are you?"
"Of course not!" The girl seemed offended at the very notion.
"That's good. We can get along then." Harry smiled charmingly and the girl blushed, taking a seat next to him. She turned to chat with her friend and Harry went back to mixing his water with a finger, creating a tornado in his cup. One house taken, three to go.
It occurred to him that Slytherin would be the hardest to get, but Harry had time. He had plenty of time.
Harry pulled out two candles and set them on his plate, lighting each with one of the candles that were set on the table. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, taking a deep sigh, as if getting ready to meditate.
"What are you doing?" a boy asked, looking extremely confused. Harry didn't reply right away, but instead clapped his hands again and bowed his head twice.
"I'm honoring my parents who died this day," Harry said calmly, nodding, without opening his eyes. "And for all those who lost their lives in the last war."
There was an uncomfortable silence at the table before the boy said, "Oh… Can I join?"
Harry looked up at the Ravenclaw. "Sure. You clap your hands together and bow your head. I did one for each of my parents and one for the others I don't know by name. It's nothing fancy, but it helps me feel less guilty about celebrating the day my parents died."
Apparently, Ravenclaws were suckers for sob stories because the minute the boy passed on the message to the others, Harry nearly had a tableful of bowing heads and clapping hands. Harry smiled a little but tipped his head, holding the plate up so the other students could see better. One of the Ravenclaws waved their wand and the plate floated up.
The teachers all turned their heads to the noise. Snape gave a start when he spotted Harry sitting at the Ravenclaw table and the bowed heads. Dumbledore stroked his beard, looking thoughtful. McGonagall swooped over to the table and demanded, in a rather shrill voice, "What's going on here?! Mr. Rowan, why are you not sitting with your housemates?!"
"Oh, Professor," Harry said, turning to McGonagall, feeling a little nervous at the stern look on her face. "I was just honoring my parents and the people who died. I didn't think the Slytherins would appreciate me doing that at their table, so I moved for tonight. There wasn't any school rule that I have to sit with my table, is there? October thirty-first is the day they died and I do this every year with my dad at home, you see." He glanced up at her and was slightly surprised to see tears in the Professor's eyes.
"Yes… well… carry on…" McGonagall said, her voice surprisingly steady despite the tears in her eyes. She swept away and Harry turned back to the floating plate. He tossed his magic to the plate and pointed his wand at it, whispering orchideous. A wreath of white lilies decorated the plate lightly, the stems curled around each other.
Harry glanced at the teacher's table, noting Quirrell's absence before his eyes landed on Snape. Snape was staring at the plate, his eyes wide, strangely full of tears before he picked up his napkin and buried his face into it. Harry shrugged and turned back to the table in time to see the food appear on the table.
Halfway into the Halloween feast, the Great Hall doors slammed open and Quirrell came rushing inside. Harry looked up from his meal just in time as Quirrell reached Dumbledore's chair and said, "Troll in the dungeons! Thought you ought to know." He then sank onto the floor in a dead faint.
A few milliseconds passed as it sank in before students leaped out of their seats, screaming and rushing around, trying to get to the door. It took several firecrackers from Dumbledore to get everyone's attention again, but Harry was quietly puzzling the mystery.
"Prefects," Dumbledore said in the silence, "lead your house back to the dormitory, immediately."
Harry frowned but stood up heading back to the Slytherin table. He really didn't want to go back to the dungeons after the troll was declared in the area, but he would rather not impose on the Ravenclaws any longer.
He glanced up at the staff table in time to see Snape slide out of the doors. Harry shrugged and then moved with his house back to the dungeons.
Surprisingly, they hadn't met the troll while they walked to their common room and the prefects seemed confident that the teacher would take care of it.
Harry was just sitting on his bed when there was a loud scream and an explosion down to the common room. He exchanged a glance with Draco and ran out of the boys dorms to see what had happened.
A twelve foot troll, smelling like old socks and as unwashed public toilet, was swinging its enormous club at the walls. Harry dived back into the room as most of the students tried to pack in the dorms or run around the troll. He scrambled back to his bed and pulled Draco past the wards so he wouldn't get squished by the students.
"Th… thanks!" Draco panted, his lips white and his hands shaking badly. Harry could hear some people try some spells to throw at the troll but it didn't seem to have much of an effect on the thick hide. Instead, the stairs were destroyed by a single swing of the club and Harry could spot the lumpy head through the cracks in the door.
Harry's body froze on shock, his mind whirling a mile a minute to try to come up with something he could do to help. He knew no spells to take down a troll and, quite honestly, he was glad he didn't. He never thought he would meet a troll in school.
The door was smashed apart by the wooden club and the troll roared, his beady eyes peering in the room. Most of the students screamed in fear or were trembling with terror. Harry made a split decision as the troll raised the club again to shatter the doorway completely.
He grabbed his warded trunk, praying that his dad had warded his trunk against physical blows and pushed his way to the front of the crowd.
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A/N: Read and review as always.