Chapter Two: Caveat Emptor
Walburga Black resented Lord Voldemort for destroying her family, the once prosperous House of Black had dwindled to only a few members in the short span of a decade. She had lived through two wizarding wars, and after her father foolishly decided to join Grindelwald's cause, she was in no mood to entertain another. There was little merit to his plans, to begin with, the man's obsession with blood purity and ruling the world had only shown her the Dark Lord's true nature.
Selfish and entitled, though he often spoke with a silver tongue, she knew that he would only use those on his side until they were of no use. Then and only then, would he kill them. But she had decided like many of her siblings to err on the side of caution and present themselves as faux allies. That was her first mistake, and would only serve to push her son, Regulus, and his cousins into the Dark Lord's ranks. But the truth was that they had all been corrupted long before they attended Hogwarts, it was after all in this very room where their obsession with the Dark Arts began.
She was sure that had Bellatrix been slightly more studious and interested in the more abstract magical subjects, she would likely have become the next Dark Lord.
However, not even Bellatrix's obsession with collecting dark spells could compare with Harry's insatiable hunger for learning magic. Walburga was overwhelmed by the rate that he was learning theory, it was as if the boy possessed an unnatural connection with magic. It took him only a week for him to understand the principles underlying basic magical theory, something which normally took children months to learn.
It wouldn't do for him to learn too fast, that would only encourage him to experiment with his magic. Something that had often led to some very fatal consequences. She had taken to distracting the boy with books on magical history.
"How is this teaching me magic." Since asking Walburga how to cast spells, she had forced him to scribe dozens of books on the History of the Wizarding World. Two weeks of torturous historical lessons and Harry was certain that he would rather sit through his Father's long-winded lectures about Quidditch.
"Knowledge of Proper Etiquette is important if you are to thrive in this society." Walburga replied, shrivelling in disgust, "You are the Scion of your family, I cannot believe they did not teach you."
Harry shrugged, "I doubt anyone would care if a sickly child insulted their family or their traditions. Besides…" His gaze lingered over to the Blu'dakorr that sat beside him.
"Don't even think about it." Walburga warned, "I don't want you reading that book until you've gained a firm understanding of more advanced magic." Harry had refused to show her what was inside the book, he had muttered something about how the book had judged her unworthy. She had asked Kreacher to take it from him, only for the House Elf to find himself unable to remove it from Harry's bedside. Kreacher mentioned that he felt compelled to leave the book behind suggesting that either the book had a permanent charm cast on it or it possessed some sort of sentience, Walburga was leaning towards the latter.
Harry muttered, "You're thinking too loudly, it's annoying."
"Say what, you little brat. I'll have you repeating Muggle History for a whole week."
"You're a painting, you can't force me to do anything." Harry deadpanned, and he was certain he would rather risk learning magic on his own than study Henry VIII again.
"Kreacher!" Harry gulped as he heard Walburga shout for the resident House-Elf. He sincerely hoped that his comment hadn't sparked the temperamental woman's ire.
There was a sudden pop and the resident house-elf appeared in front of her painting, "Mistress asked for Kreacher." The old elf bowed his head waiting for Walburga to speak.
"Did you manage to find what I asked for?"
Kreacher nodded his head fervently, "Of course, Mistress." He snapped his fingers and a rectangular ornate box floated in front of him, "It was in Master Regulus's room as you said it would be."
"Give it to the boy." Kreacher looked at his mistress in discontent, yet never made any move to disobey her, the Elf begrudgingly walked over to Harry and presented him with the box.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"A family heirloom—" Harry cautiously placed his hand on the box, noticing the same runes that had been placed on the Library door had also been etched into the wood. The box slid open on its own accord, revealing a dark-coloured wand. "You'll be using this wand to train, at least until you can get your own from Ollivanders."
Harry grasped the wand in his hand, he felt an immediate rush of power around him as the tip of the wand began to glow a bright yellow. He tried recalled the feeling of his magic, allowing it to spring forward in the form of a rectangular shield. Walburga and Kreacher appeared stunned by the manner of which Harry had summoned his magic, and as accidental as it may have been, it proved sufficiently powerful enough to cast a protective charm around him.
Harry felt his concentration waver after a few seconds, and the shield faltered before it faded from view. "That was harder than I thought it would have been."
"Your magic is unfocused; I am surprised you even managed to conjure the shield in the first place," Walburga explained, though the woman was barely able to take the excitement out of her voice. "Let's try something a little bit simpler shall we."
Harry nodded enthusiastically, she could teach him the most useless spell in existence, and he would still be glad that she taught it to him. To a child like Harry, magic was magic.
Sirius had been summoned by Dumbledore earlier that morning, there was little incentive for him to call him in such short notice considering that they were in a period of peace. Especially since Dumbledore was insistent on the meeting to take place at Godric's Hollow and without Harry. He had left Harry in the care of Kreacher, and Andromeda had volunteered to drop by and check if he had taken his medicine.
Sirius had taken extra precautions to ensure that he had not been tailed, taking his motorbike rather than choosing to use the Floo network. Despite this, he had arrived before Lupin and Dumbledore.
Jaime rushed towards him, "Uncle Sirius! Dad didn't tell me you were coming." He hugged his godson, ruffling the excitable child's hair as he looked at James's frowning face.
"I brought you something," Sirius said. "Think of it as a belated birthday present." Rummaging into his pocket, he enlarged what appeared to be a small broomstick.
"You got me a broom." Jaime looked at his dad expectantly, "Can I keep it, dad."
James Potter stared at his son for a long while, Sirius could tell that something was wrong with his best friend by the strain of his face. James nodded, "Why don't you test your broom in the garden. Your uncle and I have some things to discuss."
Jaime rushed towards the garden, halting at the door for a moment, "U-Um…How is Harry?"
Sirius smiled, "Your brother is doing fine. Now go on, that broom isn't going to fly itself."
Jaime hesitated, he wanted to enquire more but realised that perhaps this wasn't the right time. He trudged out into the garden and heard the door snap close by way of a locking charm.
Sirius asked, "Where are the others."
"Dumbledore said that he would bring Remus, as for Lily, she's refusing to leave her study," James replied, the hallmarks for fatigue and stress adorned his face. "I…It's been hard for her."
"This is about Harry, isn't it?" Sirius could tell just by looking at him, James Potter looked nothing like one would expect of a powerful Auror. "Any updates on his condition. Last I spoke with Andromeda, their tests were still inconclusive."
James muttered, "It's best if we wait for Dumbledore, he'll be able to explain better than I or Lily can." The Headmaster of Hogwarts had chosen this as an appropriate time to arrive, both of them were quite familiar with the elder wizard's penchant for theatrical entrances.
Fire burst from the wall, licking the ground in a frenzied fury as Dumbledore and Remus exited from out of the flames. Fawkes materialised beside his master, cawing a greeting towards the other two occupants.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with mirth, "Fawkes always did enjoy your company." His gaze swept towards the garden where Jaime was busy practising drills, "I see young Jaime has developed your talent for Quiddich, James."
Sirius growled, "Get to the point, Professor. I have a sick boy home alone that I really shouldn't have left alone."
"There is no need for such hostility Sirius, if my sources are accurate, Harry is doing fine just by himself. Excellent even—Ah, Lily, we've been waiting for you."
Sirius turned towards Lily, the woman had dressed adequately, but he could tell that she was a wreck due to her poor application of a basic glamour charm. "Are you okay?" He asked gently but Lily kept silent, even as she took her seat beside her husband.
Sirius raised his hands in an exasperated fashion, "Can someone please tell me what is going on."
Dumbledore summoned a ledger, "At first, I like many of the healers at St Mungo believed Harry had contracted a parasite. But as we all know, parasites can't infect magical hosts for a, particularly long period without dying. " He flipped over to a page of a young child who had died in the mid-1950s before presenting it to both Lily and James, "His condition was unerringly similar to those who were under a blood curse."
Sirius's eyes went wild in fury, "Who? I'll kill them." Performing a blood curse was seen as an act worse than using the Killing Curse, it wasn't just a one-way ticket to Azkaban but the caster would also be condemned to the Dementor's Kiss.
Dumbledore said, "The Blood Curse placed on Harry is not from one placed on Lily's or James's bloodlines." He pressed a finger to the case in the ledger, highlighting the deceased child's name, "The Dracul Clan of Vampires have been cursed by a group of hunters in Romania. Any human they turn will always die shortly after they complete their transition. The boy was one of many unfortunate accidents before the International Confederation of Wizards could intervene."
"In the past, Wizards would hunt magical creatures like Werewolves and Vampires for sport. It's why there are so few vampire clans or packs in the world." Remus explained.
Lily choked out, "So you know what Harry is."
"I'm afraid not, Lily." Dumbledore lied, "At least until Harry demonstrates something out of the ordinary."
Sirius tried to recount the many accidents that occurred in his ancestral home, but they all seemed to be in concordance with accidental magic spats. And both Lily and James were unable to recall anything of thing of the sort.
Dumbledore felt his shoulders relax at the fact that they were unaware of what their son was. He could not trust anyone with such information, not even the boy himself. It was too risky.
James asked, "So is that it? There is nothing we can do. He's going to die."
Dumbledore smiled sadly, "It is impossible to estimate when a blood curse takes a person's life. It depends on the content of the curse; some are harmless and allow a person to live into old age. Others can kill children before they are born." At the very least, Dumbledore was thankful that Harry wasn't the child that the prophecy pertained to. There was no telling what would happen if he were and he died before Voldemort returned.
"We cannot tell Jaime about this." James said, "I don't want to burden his mind with the prospect of his brother dying. Perhaps it is best if we leave him with Sirius." Lily begrudgingly found herself agreeing with her husband; Dumbledore noted just how fiercely protective they were of their only healthy child. He didn't need to peer into their minds to know what they were thinking, he had seen this pattern of behaviour in his parents.
"You're giving up!" Sirius shouted; his famous rage seeped out as he looked upon all of their resigned faces, "How can you give up on your son."
"Sirius!" Remus whispered harshly, "This isn't the time."
"No." Sirius stood up, "I agreed for you to leave Harry in my care so that he could receive treatment more efficiently. But I did not agree to this…"
"S-Sirius. We've tried everything. There isn't a renowned healer that we haven't been to." Lily collapsed further into the sofa, she quivered out, "At some point, we all have to accept reality."
The meeting ended on that sombre note as Lily and James excused themselves from the comfort of their living room. Sirius quickly exited the house without so much as a goodbye, he was still numb from Dumbledore's revelation.
His godson was going to die.
He would be damned if he allowed that to happen, eyes hardening onto the snowy grass as he realised that he could not do this alone. He needed help from someone who was demented enough to be well versed in such magic. A bitter chuckle escaped his lips as he made his way to ask help from the one person, he hated more than Peter Pettigrew.
'There is no greater treasure to a wizard than their soul, without it they are without identity and agency. Yet often the subject of harnessing the soul is avoided by many, mayhaps it is because the soul like the mind exists upon a plane only seen by those blessed with the power of sight. It is the root of all magic and marked the beginning and end of an Esper's journey. For in the death of another may we find life anew.'
Snap.
Harry slammed the book shut, 'I can't do this.' He thought to himself, continuously muttering the words over and over again. The book mentioned that a way to replenish someone's body was in the use of sacrificial magic, to take another's soul and consume it.
And this was only on the second page of the damned thing, he shuddered at the thought of what lay deeper into the book. Of course, he couldn't find out because the Blu'dakorr required a blood sacrifice before it would reveal what was on each page. The Author's must have been incredibly secretive about who they were willing to give their secrets away to.
Harry gazed at the wall of his bedroom, he could hear Walburga's loud snores echoing through the hallway. Biting his lip, Harry sneaked out the room and into the Black Library.
He had to find out if the book was telling the truth. And it just so happened that he knew where to find what he needed. The bound soul of a voodoo priest lay within an ornate skull.
Blood poured out of his palms, as Harry muttered the incantation within the book, "Sorbere." The blood-stained the jewel incrusted skull, frizzing and popping as if it was made of acid before disappearing altogether. For a moment he had thought that the spell had failed before he felt himself being dragged into the abyss. The world around him was consumed by heavy darkness, it was as if he was drowning in the depths of the sea.
Despite feeling the whole world crashing down upon him, he could still make out the faint silhouette of a woman. "My, my! You are a surprise, Mr Potter." The woman snapped her finger together, chains erupted from the darkness, rushing towards him and wrapping around his body in such a fashion that he was unable to move. "I will do great things when I take control of your body, Mon Cherie."
"W-Where am I?" Harry croaked out.
"Children." The woman sounded disappointed, "Always so curious but never thoughtful, are they. We are in your mind…Well, It's mine now." The chains grew tighter, his small frame creaked painfully as he fruitlessly thrashed in his bindings.
"My mind…" Harry muttered as he forced his body to calm down. This was meant to be his domain, not hers. He concentrated all his focus onto the woman, his magic lashed out in approval, melting the chain as if they were made out of butter.
The woman stepped back, fear gripped her body, "You…You're an Esper!" She raised her hand to utter another spell but the words never quite made it out of her lips as she was consumed utterly by Harry's mind.
Harry collapsed onto the ground, he felt a sudden rush of pain spike through his body as splinters of the woman's mind and magic slammed against his own. The feeling was painful and euphoric at the same time, the warmth of her magic melded throughout him as it began to strengthen his body just a little.
It wasn't enough.
He needed more.
Green eyes burned sinisterly in the dark as Harry committed himself to this path. He would remember this moment as the day he began to follow in the footsteps of Grindelwald and those who came before him.
A/N: This is quite a short chapter and I was originally planning on placing a time skip somewhere in the middle, but I thought it would better as a separate chapter. Also serves as a gateway for Harry's adventure into the dark arts. And as you will find out there are consequences for Harry absorbing a soul at such a young age and without actually understanding the magic.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and please leave a review :)