She rocked the little bundle in her arms slowly, while walking through her room. It was quiet all around. Of course, it was, it was the middle for the night. Swinging her hips while walking she whispered downwards.
"Shhh, it's okay, it's okay mummy is here. Stop crying little darling, everything is fine." Her voice was unheard but she paid no heed. This was what being a mother meant. Rocking again the bundle, she sat down in her rocking chair in the corner. Maybe a story to calm the small one or maybe a song?
She tried to keep her mind on that what was in her arms but she couldn't. Her mind kept wandering back to yesterday. To the conversation, she had on that day. To what had been said. By the on she trusted, the one she.
"Damn, Damn! DAMN!" She shouted out only to console her baby boy in an instant.
"Not you, little one. I wouldn't yell at you. I would never yell at you, my little love. Here look it's Mrs Snake." She waved a little plush snake in front of the bundle in an attempt to make up for her outburst. "You like Mrs Snake don't you? Yes you like her almost as much as you like mummy, don't you?" The smiling hurt her face a little, but it was important to smile at the child to give them the knowledge that they were loved. Sighing when she thought she had done a good enough job she leaned back, her black hair falling over her shoulders.
Somewhere over at the side of the room, a buzzing sound came from her wand. It indicated that she had been on baby calming duty for one hour now after a similar alarm had woken her the first time in the dead of night.
Letting out a sigh she relaxed her arms, dropping the bundle to the ground. It made a soft thudding noise when colliding with the floorboards and something came loose from the bundle rolling away a bit. The woman stretched out her food and placed it on the object, squishing it a little under her heel.
A doll head.
Bellatrix grinned a little while she pressed harder down. This was not the real deal. Just a doll, nothing more. Taken from a mudbloods house. Spoils of war, hers to destroy. But she pulled herself together, taking her foot of the object. She shouldn't destroy the doll, no matter how much she hated it. She needed it. For practice.
Because that was what this was all about. She practised for the time when her lovely Neville would be in her arms again. She trained for the day when she would be his mummy, would rock him to sleep, burp him, feed him and so much more. When she would finally have the real deal, her own child. Not some puppet. She hated it. With it's painted damn eyes and weird looking nose and mouth. It was ugly. So ugly. But it was better than the piece of wood she had started training with so she shouldn't destroy it. With a sigh, she picked up the doll and her wand, stitching the body and head together again. Many stitches covered the small plastic body. Her long elegant finger ran over the stitches while she smirked.
Oh, she had gotten better. Not only with stitching but also with the doll. In the beginning, she had held it for only two minutes before blasting the damn thing into pieces. Now she could train for one hour and keep her calm, mostly, before needing to stop. Soon she would be able to do it all day and night. And then, when she finally was ready, she could get her Nev.
Sure she knew that she was unstable. Only an idiot would think he could be tortured for years without losing something. And Bella was no idiot oh no. She knew she was not quite there. That was why she needed her training.
At the start, some of the newer members of their circle had made fun of her hard work. Had called it playing with dolls. Had sniggered and pointed their fingers at her. Bella smirked. No one did that anymore. That happens when you flay their loud mouthes while being still alive. She blinked. Oh yes, that was something she should teach her Nev. Pulling out her notebook, the black-haired woman made a note. The book might be confusing to others. Things were written over and under, one line across the other. But for her, it was obvious. Some things were simply meant to be written together and when she had the second thought weeks later she had to write it over the first thought. Of course. That was just practical.
But still, her mind was on her sister's words. "Yes, you do."
It was burned into her mind. No, she didn't believe it. She wouldn'T believe it. Her Lord and Master was NOT a half-blood. He was NOT a halfbreed. No, No, No, NO! She threw her notebook into the corner of the room while screaming it out.
"NO! It is not true!" Before breaking down, slinging her arms around her midriff. It wasn't true. She knew it wasn't true. But why would it not go away? This thought. The memory of her sisters smile. Why wasn't it away? The doubt. She had never doubted. Not once in her time with her master had she doubted him.
Not when he had commanded her to kill. To torture. To steal, burn and give her body away to further his plans. Not once had she doubted his goals, his ideas. Not once had she doubted that he was in his right to punish her for transgressions or when he thought it was needed. He was her lord and absolute.
But now there was. This fear had taken hold of her. That fear that there might be something to her sister's words. That her lord wasn't what he said he was. Why did he call himself Voldemort? There was no family with that name. Nowhere in the world. She knew. When she had come back to her master's feet yesterday, not that he had noticed or cared, as was his right, she had forced her former brother in law to open up his library. So what if he had lost two fingers when he had tried to talk back to her? Her needs were way more important than his digits. He could grow those back. Probably. She wasn't sure anymore what curse she had used. Or was it a knife? Those minor details often fled her mind. Unimportant.
She had ripped books out of the shelves, reading searching. She might have killed a house-elf when it annoyed her during her search but she wasn't sure anymore. She had searched and searched and searched. But nowhere had she found the name Voldemort in any of the families tomes. Not as a side note, not as a reference nothing. Only the moniker he-who-must-not-be-named in the recent history books, written by fearful idiots who were too afraid to speak her master's name. As it was right. Lowlives should not speak his name, they were not worthy. But was he worthy? Yes, he was! Or was he? Was her master worthy of her devotion if he was just the son of a muggle? What if her sister was right? Bellatrix couldn't turn away from that thought. She knew she shouldn't think that way. Betrayal was unthinkable. Yet she needed to.
Was her master worthy of her devotion if he wasn't pureblooded? And if he wasn't was it right for her to bow down to him. A Black bowed to no one. While her traitorous cousin had cast her out of the family, she still thought of herself as a Black. She was a Black by right and blood and no one was allowed to take that away from her. Not matter that he was the head of the family, by reason unclear to her. It didn't matter. She was a Black and would be that until the end of her day.
Because...what was left when she lost her master, her purpose and her name? What was she good for if not to be at her master's side? What personality did she have, if not Bellatrix Black? The most feared of the three Black sisters. There had been something. A long time ago. Bella held that thought. Remembered back, tried to remember the time before everything else. When it had only been her, Cissy and Andy. They had been one. They had lived laughed and smiled together. Sure there had been problems when she tried to toughen Cissy but they had loved each other. Bella wasn't sure when had been the time that changed it all. Warped it.
Somewhere along the line, they had drifted apart. Had it been when Andy ran away with that mudblood? Or maybe before. When Siri came to school? When Cissa got together with Lucy? Or maybe when she had gone to Hogwarts and they weren't all together anymore. Bella wasn't sure, but she knew she had never been that happy in her life after that. A bond that should have stayed forever had been broken and then...she wasn't sure. Everything was blurred and warped. She knew she was crazy and she knew she wasn't happy. The black-haired woman knew, deep in her mind, that she was not happy. Sure lashing out numbed the pain but it wouldn't go away. There was no one. She was alone. All alone.
Shaking her head, the beautiful woman stood up, rubbing over her eyes. Stupid tears. There was no reason to cry about this or anything. It didn't change anything. It didn't help. She had chosen her path and she would stick to it. Her place was at the Dark Lord side. Not matter if he was worthy or not, that was her place. Because there was nowhere else for her to go. Yes, that was the right way to look at the whole thing.
A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. Some random low-level Death Eater wannabe stuck his head inside, careful not to look at her directly. Oh they had learned by now.
"The Dark Lord sends for you Miss." He carefully avoided calling her by any name. Smart boy. She would have gutted him if he had called her by her first name, or Black or even worse Lestrange. Maybe just maybe he would survive the night. A smile, cold as a blade appeared on her face. The Dark Lord send for her and she would answer the call. Because there was nothing else to do really. She got to her feet, walking smoothly to her door. Behind her, she left the doll on the floor. Moving through the house with ease she came upon the chamber her master lived in. Some time back she would have wished for nothing more than being summoned here in the middle of the night, but now she wasn't all that sure. Yesterday had shaken her more than she thought it would. She would obey if he demanded but mostly she just felt hollow now. Still, her delicate fingers rapped on the door and she waited until being called inside.
Behind the door, the audience hall was situated. A hearth burned, the Slytherin coat of arms over it and a large snake sleeping in front of the fire. The Dark Lord sat on his throne made from carved black wood, simple black robes cover pale skin. Bellatrix couldn't remember her lord sleeping at all ever since he came back. Or eating. Or using the facilities. He had been eternal and strong, nothing else. And more dangerous.
With a smile that would make a shark proud, the Dark Lord waved her closer. Bellatrix followed the silent command, getting to her knee, kissing the hem of his robes. "My Lord."
The still smiling Dark Lord waved her to the side. Only now she did she notice the others in the room. Rookwood, Crouch and Dolohov. The inner circle. Also, Greyback was in the back, somewhere close to the back wall, leaning against it, his arms crossed.
"Good, Bellatrix, now all are here." The Dark Lord spoke softly but cutting. His whispers send a shiver down Bella's neck but she wasn't sure if it was a good one. "We will now move on with our plans. Fenrir!" The werewolf moved to the front of the room. "Tomorrow you will begin the diversion. You know what to do. Bellatrix and Antonin will support you. You need to make a lot of noise, the damage is of secondary nature. Here take this to leave when the time has come." He stretched his hand out and Fenrir took what was given to him. The werewolf nodded while Bella and Dolohov bowed down deeply.
"Augustus, you will accompany me and Bartimus, when we make our move. The time of waiting is over. Now." The smile broadened. "is the time for action."
With a spin and tumbling slightly, Harry came out of the hearth. He blinked rapidly while getting his bearings. Flootravel never agreed with him. Yes, he had learned how to do it properly over the summer, flooing back and forth between two Black properties on Narcissa's behest. Still to this day he didn't get the smooth exit that the older members of the Black family all were able to pull off. He didn't like it. But he couldn't say the same thing about his passenger. Dawn was fluttering her wings, chirping happily. She loved the speed and spinning quite a lot more than him.
"Heir Black, welcome home." The raspy voice pulled him from his thoughts. Kreacher was standing near the door, already in a bow towards the young teen. With a smile, Harry nodded.
"Thank you, Kreacher. Are you all right?" He asked in a light tone moving over.
The elf bowed deeper, pressing his nose against the floorboards. "Kreacher lives to serve House Black."
Stifling a sigh, the black-haired boy nodded, while he rubbed Dawn's belly. Kreacher wouldn't answer the question unless being ordered to. So he dropped the line of thought.
"Is he upstairs?" He was asking instead.
"Lord Black is currently residing in the Master Bedroom. Miss Black, Madam Bones and Healer Graham are with him."
The boy nodded once. "Thank you, Kreacher." And left the room, leaving the elf in his wake. It had taken him some time to find his rhythm with Kreacher but he now knew that polite indifference was the most the elf could really handle. Also, his mind was on other things.
With wide strides, he crossed the entrance hall and started climbing the stairs to the family floor. His hand was on the handrail and he couldn't help but smile at the feeling of being home. A home you wanted to be in. Dawn took the opportunity of the open entrance hall and spread her wings, flying around a little. There were no bugs for her to hunt, Kreacher kept those out, but the phoenix was born for the air and loved being in it. Hary watched her spinning around and smiled. She kept flying around until he reached the family floor at which point she returned to the shoulder she had left.
He didn't stop in front of the door with the word "Padfoot" on it but instead knocked while opening the door. The silencing that seemed to be on the door was dropped as he stepped inside and into an argument.
"I am fiiiiine." Sirius said, struggling to try to get out of bed. Madam Bones was pushing him back at the shoulder, trying to get him to lie down. She had a scowl on her face, blinking more irritated at that.
"You are not fine, Merlin damn. Sirius, you almost bled to death today. So stay in bed. Healer Graham!" She turned her eyes to the balding man who stood to the side. Wearing white robes, the man was sweating and looked nervous. Not at all capable of dealing with an arguing Sirius or the head of the DMLE.
"Lord Black, I really think you should listen to Mada-"
"Oh pish posh, I am good." The black-haired man repeated, trying to push off the bed. His torso was bandaged and he looked a little pale. "I am totally capable of dealing with this."
Amelia huffed, taking her hand off his shoulder. Sirius pushed out of the bed.
"See? I am totally good and-" He took a step and staggered. Reaching up, Amelia caught him before he could tumble to the ground. "Okay, maybe I'm a little dizzy." Sirius conceded as he sat back down on the bed. Amelia huffed again.
"Stay in bed Sirius. Take the potions Healer Graham has prepared and stop acting like a five-year-old. No one here is impressed by your attempts to look manly. You duelled Bellatrix Lestrange, that is not a small thing. So please, stop being so irritating, or I swear by Merlin's beard I will stick you to the bedding."
Sirius leaned back, flinching under her tone, before a mischievous grin formed on his pale face. "Is that a promise? I always knew you were kinky Melia, I mea-"
Red crept up the neck of Amelia Bones and she looked like she was ready to explode, already pulling her wand when the eyes of godson and godfather met. Harry was still standing in the door, taking all of this in.
"Harry!" His godfather tried again from getting up, completely forgetting that Amelia was this close to cursing him. The teenager quickly walked through the room, to the bed, pressing aginst his godfather shoulder, pushing him back again.
"Sirius! Are you all right? Professor McGonagall said you were injured." He looked his godfather up and down.
Sirius waved it off with a slight wince as he moved his chest too much. "Only a scratch. Has a little run-in with my dead cousin and well, she wasn't happy as to what I had to say really." His smirk was wide at that.
Harry frowned and sat down on the edge of the bed. He only noticed with half of his mind that Narcissa escorted Healer Graham out of the room. "What happened?"
Sirius sighed leaning back. "Well, you remember the earrings I gave Cissy a while back?"
The teenager nodded, not wanting to interrupt.
"Those aren't just earrings. When she pushes some of her magic into those it creates a message, telling me where she is."
Harry frowned a little. "In case she got in trouble? Like the ring you gave me after the first task?" Dawn took off from his shoulder.
Sirius nodded and reached out with his hand, offering Dawn a place to land. The small phoenix rubbed herself against his fingers and purred. "Yes, just like those. I gave the same to Remus, Dromeda, Ted and Nymphy. Even though I got nearly cursed by the last one for it. I want to make sure I can always be there for those I can't live without."
Harry turned his head towards Amelia. "What about Madam Bones?"
That got him a snort out of the tall woman. When they had started talking she had moved to the window looking outside.
Sirius laughed. "Does Melia look like she needs my help in anything? But yes, I gave her a neckless." Harry noticed the soft smile his godfather got when he looked at the head of house Bones.
"Aaaaanyways." Sirius pulled himself back to the conversation. "I got a distress call from Cissy, in one of the sidestreets to Diagon. I rushed there as fast as I could and barely got there in time before dear old Bella tried to curse or maybe kill Cissy. Not sure what kind of spell she was throwing. After that she talked a few sentences, I cast her from the family and she got so mad she started flinging curses at me. Well, I had to protect myself and Cissy, but couldn't do it completely. Luckily Melia and her boys came just in time to save my sorry ass. Bella got away."
Harry nodded, shifting a little. "So, you threw her out of the family?"
Grimmly Sirius nodded. "Yeah. Should have done that way earlier. It just, I don't know slipped my mind."
"I thought she was a Lestrange now." Harry muttered.
Sirius shrugged, again wincing a little and Dawn fluttered her wings once. "Bellatrix seemed to have divorced or killed her husband. Or maybe both. At least that is what she told Cissy. But then again she is crazy."
Harry raised his eyebrow.
Sirius laughed a little. "Oh, believe me, she is crazy. I spend years near her cell. Completely insane and I am not saying that because I hate her. She kept singing all these horrible songs for children but with crazy twists about torturing muggles and so on. And always wailing about-" Sirius cut himself off, staring at Harry cautiously.
"Wailing about what?" He asked.
Sirius sighed, looking over at Amelia, who had turned back to them.
"I am not sure if it is a good idea Prongslet, this is...well it is fucked up." Sirius said softly.
But Harry shook his head, even while Dawn hopped back into his lap. "I would much prefer to know than not. I don't like being left in the dark."
Again Sirius eyed Amelia Bones, who in turn sighed stepping closer.
"Bellatrix No-Name had or has a strong affliction for your friend Heir Longbottom, Mr Potter. She believes him to be her child and from the way Sirius and the guards described it, she thinks he is still a toddler."
Harry blinked surprised. "But he is fourteen, how can she not?"
"She is crazy Harry. Completely insane. She was already unhinged when she got to Azkaban and that place isn't helping with mental problems."
Harry nodded slowly. "Still, hard to imagine. Does Neville know?"
At that Sirius only shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I told Dowager Longbottom. I'm not sure she told her grandson."
Harry shook his head. "Probably not. Neville would have told me. Also, she doesn't seem to think that he could handle something like that. Should I tell him?"
Frowning, Sirius shrugged once more his shoulders. "I don't know. Might disturb him. Will probably. But on the other hand, as you said, better knowing than not. Maybe write to his grandmother, before you throw something like that at him."
Harry nodded, still thinking. Then he looked up. "That is why she sent that "gift" on Christmas." His face was contorted. Sirius had told him what the gift had been. He was answered with grim nods.
For a while, they just sat there. Finally, after maybe five minutes, Harry looked up at his godfather with a smile.
"I'm happy you are alive Padfoot." Reaching out he rubbed his godfather's shoulder.
"Me too, kiddo. Me too."
Leaning back in the armchair, the boy sighed. That had been a horrible day. Draco had tried to make nice with some of the Ravenclaws as he had planned. It had worked, somewhat. There was Lisa Turpin, whose eye he had caught. Probably. At least the girl was always giggling when he said something and made googly eyes at him. So he had started talking to her and her friend Sue Li. And they had been playing nice and it had gone quite well if there wasn't the one big problem.
They were sooooooo boring. Idiocy he could deal with. Crabbe and Goyle weren't the smartest. Actually, they were dumb as two rocks. But he could tell them to shut up or go away. They listened to him rant when he needed to vent anger and wouldn't complain. Or at least they would. They were still his minions and did what he told them to, but he had noticed, ever since their fathers had disappeared, that they were...different. But still, they would follow him when the time came and did what he said.
Not so the two Claws. Yes, they were smarter than the two oafs, but all their prattle about this subject and that, he just wanted to pull his hair out or yell at them to shut up. But he didn't think that would work. He needed them to follow him too. For the time when he needed to...do things. And that was more important.
His stomach rolled just when he thought about it. He knew the dark lord would attack the school. Pretty soon actually. And he didn't like it. Sure he had boasted quite a bit about the fact, that he wanted to see the Dark Lord return, would help him in his quest to conquer the world and rid their society of the mudbloods. But now? Now that he really was part of it all, all he could think of was how much it sickened him. Sure, there were those he disliked, hated. Like Granger, like Potter, like Finch-Fletchley. But he didn't really want them dead. He had said he wanted them exterminated, but he had no idea what that really meant. He had seen now what it looked like when the Dark Lord killed and he was sick thinking that it would hit those that he knew. He hated them but not that much. No one deserved that fate.
But he was sworn in and wouldn't get out of it. He was part of it and he would have to move on. He would have to bear it because if he didn't then that fate would be his too. And that put ice in his veins. He didn't want to die. So he did what he was told to do and tried to make allies. And that meant dealing with those idiotic girls.
Slytherin wouldn't yield many new supporters. Either they were already part of the Dark Lords force or their parents were or it came down to politics and ever since Potter had taken the Black title for himself, Draco wasn't able to control the house the same way he did before. He was certain if he still was, he would have tones of supporters. But on the other hand, being prima inter pares due to being the Black heir hadn't really prepared him for the fine art of the Slytherin politics and to be frank he disliked it. He liked acting out of a position of power but working for it? Draco sometimes wondered where he would have been placed if it wasn't for the potion every Malfoy heir took the night before coming to Hogwarts, which made sure he was placed in Slytherin. Sometimes he wondered. Not Hufflepuff that for sure, but maybe he was more of a Ravenclaw? With horror, he thought what would have happened if he were sorted with the kittens, but that was impossible. He was a Slytherin, he shook himself. He was not brash or quick to anger or easy to read. He was sneaky and-
"Malfoy." A nasal voice from behind cut off that line of thought. When he turned around, he saw Warrington, Pucey and Montague standing there together. It was the last one that had spoken. Draco rose from his seat and stood in front of the three larger boys. They were older and stronger, but in Slytherin, you had to show no weakness or you would be in big problems.
"Yeah?" He asked careful. He was very aware of the weight of his wand in the holster on his left forearm, ready to drop down on a flick of the wrist.
Montague sneered down at him with an ugly smile. "As you know, Professor Snape has made me Quidditch Captain." Draco suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, he knew. Ever since the summer, the large brown-haired teenager had taken every moment to remember all that he was the captain. The quidditch team was always a big number in house politics. Being part of it meant that you were better than the rest, one of the biggest reasons for Draco to join. This year there was no quidditch but that didn't mean they had stopped training. So, of course, he knew that Montague was captain.
"I noticed." The blond answered with a cold voice.
"And as you know, I am responsible for the success of this team." His grin turned uglier. "And I had a talk with the team, a meeting."
Draco frowned. "Well, since I wasn't there it was no team meeting."
Montague frowned. "Don't talk back to me you little shit. You not being there was the damn point. We men talked and we aren't impressed with your performance. So we started looking for another talent, someone who didn't get the snitch plucked from under their noses for years by Potter."
Draco stiffened. Yes, he was distracted and cared for less, but Quidditch was important for him to work in this house. "What are you saying? There will be new tryouts?"
Montague leaned down, smiling evilly at him. Draco could smell the garlic in his breath from whatever the other had eaten this day. "Those already happened. You are off the team Malfoy. You broom goes to Harper."
Draco blinked then he scowled. "Hey! That is my broom. Also, my father gifted the brooms to the team."
Montague frowned and shoved him back into his chair. "That is right, to the team! Not to you. And the deal was that you would play on the team. You did. But that deal was with Flint and he is gone, so I make the rules. You are out. You are a horrible seeker and I will not lose next year only to stroke the ego of one little boy. What you gonna do about this?"
Draco turned red in the face. "My father will hear about this."
He shrunk back in his chair when Montague leaned down, grinning. "Good! I'm not scared of your father you spoiled princess. I know he has lost a lot of his money aaaaand the ear of the Minister. He isn't the big fish in the pond anymore and neither are you. Also" He took a look around, but they were in a rather shadowy edge of the common room. Reaching up, Montague rolled back his sleeve, revealing a full Dark Mark on his forearm. "I know that the Dark Lord doesn't like your father at all. But mine? Oh, he has done some good for the cause. I know that I am higher on the totem pole. So take your "My father will hear about this" and shove it up to your pale little ass, because I give no two knuts about him."
With a final shove, Montague stood up and walked away with Prucey and Warrington, all three of them were laughing.
Draco sat there, frozen in place while he thought how this year had gone wrong when a small platter appeared next to him on the table. On it was a single letter. He picked it up. Most of the times the post came in the morning but sometimes an urgent message came later in the day or the night. The house-elves then took it from the owl and send it to the person in question with their magic. Draco had no idea how it was handled in different houses but in Slytherin, those were presented on silver platters.
Looking over the envelope, he frowned. There was no signature on it and the address was written with a dicta quill. That was odd, but still, he opened the envelope, finding a single slice of parchment inside. On it was the slanted, elegant hand of his father. But it looked hurried, a scrap of parchment ripped from a bigger piece, written in a hurry. There were only five words written on it.
Don't go to Hogsmeat tomorrow.
And that chapter is done. I am really sorry that I take so long for this. My creative energy always goes in my P&P campaigns right now and I have four during the week. So those batteries are pretty empty or my muse doesn't kick in as often. But at least one chapter per month should be in it.
So not a lot to talk about in this chapter. I wanted to mostly go into Bella and Draco because they are similar in certain ways in this story but different. Also, it is really fun writing Bella being badshit crazy.
One little detail on my view. Draco could be a Gryffindor. Not on the surface but deep down. He is brash and boastful and he does have a moral core, but it is layered in bullshit. Also, the damn hat had noooooo time to look into his head. I am not a Draco fan per se and I don't like Draco is actually a good guy story, but he is layered and one of the more complex characters.
On a further note, I thought in the last couple of weeks a lot about what stories in the Harry Potter Universe I like and what don't and I came down to some things.
Careful just rambling:
I don't like Original Charakters as main Charakters. Background okay, I mean I do it too. But Harry's secret sister? Sirius Black's daughter? Not my cup of tea. I think HP has such a big background cast you could easily transform one of those. Why use Ireena Dancer (Just a random name I use, I have read no story with one in it) when you can use Susan Bones or Nathalie McDonald or others? There are a lot of characters that basically have a name and that is it. Just take them and make them your own.
I also don't like stories where Harry isn't Lilys and James son. I don't know it just bugged me really bad when I read it.
I also don't really like when Charakters are completely different or just another character with a name swap. Like holy Hell, another Harry is Slytherin therefore Ron acts like Draco story. I don't know that is just weird to me. Especially when these Charakters don't grow. I like the trope of Harry's twin WBHL and then Ron being an ass. But I hate it when no matter how many times they are shown the mirror and learn "Damn I am an Ass" only to go back being an ass a chapter later. If they are a fixture in their behaviour it is just...boring. "Here goes Ron again being a dick, because...well for whatever reason the author hates Ron so much." I know I also get characters wrong and not all my characters grow but in my mind, growing and evolving is what makes a character interesting.
My final thing is when someone changes Harry Potter so much I can basically not see Harry Potter in it. I might have done so by changing a lot how the magic works in my story. But I feel like it is still the same "light" so to speak. But some go out there and being wild and while yes I like it in a few instances, sometimes it just gets too weird and there is nothing left of the original story. I don't know, might just be my hypocritical self-talking.
Finally, I have already said sometime before that I want to write another story and I just wanted to say, that will still happen. When this story is done, so maybe summer. It will be a Harry raises himself storyline...somewhat...not raising himself but being a part in his own life by going back in time. And that will take all 7 books into account.
I also search for Harry raises Teddy storys, if someone has something that would be nice. But really him being a dad not Teddy already grown or something.