Harry woke up in a luxurious bed, and stretching out his frail, eleven-year-old body, he prepared for the day. He was actually incredibly excited; today they were going to go through with the blood adoption and register him as ir son. He suspected that they had muddled over a name just yesterday night after dinner; after all, what other reason would they send Harry to bed before Astoria and Daphne?
However, he needed to be careful. He'd have to have his scar removed somehow before they noticed. He pulled out the Elder wand once more and cast a quick conjuring spell, thinking idly that this was a terrible use for the most powerful wand in the world but ignoring it in favour or carefully spreading the conjured face cream over his scar until it was completely hidden. A quick, weak disillusionment spell, and he was ready to go.
Being in a new house again was oddly familiar. He wandered downstairs into the kitchen, the eerily silent Greengrass estate calming him after a year and a half of living in an apartment in downtown England. With the cars, silence was rare and much appreciated.
Harry quickly found what he needed. Using his expertise in cooking and what he had available, he began to quietly begin preparing breakfast. It wasn't something he even had to think about; he was just so used to it that he barely noticed he was doing it until a vague spread of fruits, breads and drinks were laid on the tables. He made himself a cup of pumpkin juice (he'd never quite gotten out of the habit of having it) and sat down to sip on his drink and wait.
It was around five in the morning that he heard a horrified gasp.
When he looked down, he was greeted with the sight of a rather kindly-looking house elf. She seemed a bit on the elderly side, droopy ears and gentle gaze, but her eyes were bulging in shock. He noted happily that her cloth was a uniform instead of a dirty, discarded tea towel, and that her uniform was clean as the day it was made.
"Young Master has breakfast already ready!" She gasped. "Tibby was supposed to make breakfast! Why is young Master awake?"
"I wake up early every day," Harry explained gently. "Usually at four. I'm sorry if I did your job for you, Miss Tibby. I lived in a muggle home, and I was the one to make breakfast. By the time I remembered, I'd already made it." He admitted. "I'll leave it for you next time, shall I?"
Tibby nodded firmly. "Young Master Teddy should not be making breakfast on his own. It is not safe! Tibby will be making the breakfast, so Young Master can relax."
"Thank you, Miss Tibby," Harry thanked her politely. Tibby practically glowed. "Say, I haven't met the staff yet. Would it be okay if you introduced me to the rest of the Greengrass family house elves? I'd like to meet them."
Tibby seemed shocked, considering she merely nodded instead of speaking. Harry smiled. He was going to treat the house elves as nicely as he could.
The Greengrass family had no less than five house elves. Tibby was the eldest house elf, and usually managed meals; Horvor was the second-eldest, a middle-aged elf who mostly kept up with the laundry; Deema was a young female elf who mostly served at events, but also stocked the house. Selma maintained the house and its magical items and library, and finally there was Tory, a very young house elf who attended the Astoria girls.
Harry had bowed to each one individually, asking politely about each one's work conditions, just in case. Luckily, the Greengrasses had devoted a truly comfortable space to them, despite it being the attic. Satisfied that they were happy and healthy, he ended the introduction with Selma, hoping she would later allow him access to the exalted library. He needed a good source of info.
Tibby had shot preservation charms at the food, thankfully, so when the remainder of the family dozily walked in, the food was still fresh. They quickly began to eat, with all the grace of a pureblood family; Harry quietly thanked himself for learning how to eat without behaving like Ron.
Once done, Mr. Greengrass - Paris, as he remembered from introductions the night before - cleared his throat, pulling their attention away. "I must address this formally before we leave to register him in Gringotts," he smirked, "though we all already know. Teddy, now Orpheus Teddy Greengrass, is now a member of our family. From now on, Orpheus, we expect you to learn of our family and continue the legacy of the Greengrass family."
Harry felt the smiles sent his way, but he was still in shock. Even as he automatically said, 'Thank you, si- father," his head was reeling. He was an heir. Of course. As a pureblood and a male, he would obviously be the heir. They had accepted him, knowing he was magical and assuming he was a pureblood. The Squib story had probably been enough confirmation for them. As he recalled, the Greengrasses had no sons in his timeline, and this one might not have been any different.
Then arms wrapped around him from all sides, and he broke down. This was too much.
He cried.
Harry was still a bit shocked, even as he left Gringotts, his new account set up and his blood adoption having gone through the system. He felt Daphne's hand thread into his, and gripped it tightly, using her as support while he felt himself struggle to walk properly. His already frail body was barely supporting him; he'd probably not be able to do much for a few days as the genes began mutating.
Astoria reached for his other hand, and his adoptive parents - parents! - followed behind him. There were herded into the floo, where he faintly heard Mr. Greengrass - no, his father! - call out, "Greengrass estate!"
He tumbled clumsily out of the floo, using his sisters' - his sisters! - arms for support. He was led over to a couch where they laid him down. Tory popped in, laying a blanket over him, and he gave Tory an appreciative smile before he popped out again, probably to get something for his headache.
"Son?" Mrs. Greengrass - no, his mother, Helen - asked in concern, sending a bolt of warmth through him. Who knew family felt like this? "You'll begin to feel the changes from the adoption soon. It'll last a few days... rest, Orpheus. We'll be here."
Harry gave them a bright, content smile and passed out.
The next few days were some of the best and worst of Harry's life. He felt incredible pain from his body morphing and changing, and was desperately hungry all the time, but his family were always there, caring for him. He knew he really needed to get on with his other duties, but… they could wait, even just a little, for him to establish an identity as Orpheus Greengrass.
On the third day, he decided to make his first visit to the library. He'd left the Deathly Hallows in his room, but luckily he could summon them. Summoning the wand and cloak, he crept away from the couch he'd been occupying and got all of three meters before he was discovered.
"Selma does not think young Master Orpheus should be awake," Selma whispered, poking Harry's side.
"Sorry, Selma," Harry apologized, quickly discarding the cloak before she could notice it and pocketing the wand. "I just wanted to get a look at the library, maybe read. It's been three days and I haven't seen it yet."
Selma studied him. "Young Master his hiding something," she continued. "What is young Master hiding? Can young Master tell Selma?"
Harry bit his lip. "Alright. I…" he touched his temple. "I was cursed at a young age, Selma. I was never able to find a solution…If they knew, they wouldn't want me, Selma, would they?"
Selma's entire demeanor changed. "Selma will help young Master Orpheus defeat the curse as best as Selma can. Follow Selma to library, quickly quickly!" Harry was led through a twisting set of turns, and it was mere minutes before the pair of them were dissecting the library for the book Harry needed.
"Selma is thinking," Selma commented, "that young Master could remove with very very powerful spell, or with powerful magical catalyst. Selma will be transferring spell to disposable and destroying spell very quickly."
Harry nodded. Why hadn't he thought of that? "How will we move the spell?"
"Selma will do, Selma knows spell," Selma soothed. "What young Master is needing is basilisk venom, or fiendfyre! But house elves cannot make Fiendfyre, even in fireproof dungeons. Not enough power," Selma mourned.
"I'll do the fiendfyre, you just need to hold the curse away from my body," Harry decided, showing her his wand. At a cry of excitement, he asked eagerly, "Found the spell?"
"Yes," Selma grinned. "Is young Master Orpheus ready to begin de-cursing?"
"I've been ready since the day I got this blasted curse," Harry laughed. "Show me to the dungeons. We're going to destroy a curse."
When Harry came to, his first reaction was to panic. He'd been casting the spell for fiendfyre, and then… and then what? He'd blacked out?
Faint voices surrounded him, and he quickly picked them out as his parents and a sobbing, tearful Selma. Fearing the worst, he croaked out, "M'fine. Was my idea."
"Orpheus," Herlen breathed, relieved. "Why didn't you tell us there was a curse? We could have helped you."
Harry averted his eyes. "I figured you wouldn't like it. That you wouldn't want me if I had a curse on me… I'm sorry I didn't tell you. It was… it was stupid."
"At least you know not to do something this rash again," Paris sighed, kneeling down next to his wife and adopted son. "Listen, son. Next time you have to do something that threatens your life, tell us. We are supposed to protect you. It's hard to protect someone who doesn't tell us when they need protecting."
Harry nodded calmly. "Yes father." Giving his adoptive family one last smile, he turned over and slept.
A/N: My way of dealing with the curse scar. We can't very well have the main character dying, but I also doubt if there was a way that Dumbledore would allow Harry to run around with the curse intact.