Harry Potter and the Black Plague
By: EDelta88 & Selonianth
Rated M for language, violence, and because I said so
Insert Disclaimer Here
Background and Beginning Notes:
This is a fic written in collaboration with my friend Selonianth that we posted on our shared account before our attempts at writing together stalled out. It was created from our desire to create a viable crossover with the video game Prototype that didn't use the usual devices we had seen in similar crossovers.
Essentially the idea was "How do we make Harry into the Prototype using magic?" and this was the result, fair warning we did get pretty off topic.
Chapter 1: Bullies, Brunettes, and Nundus, Oh My!
Harry Potter was not having a good day.
He hadn't slept well the night before; he'd had a nightmare about screaming and flashes of green light again. He always had the strangest dreams, flying motor bikes and brooms, people who turned into animals and vice versa, strange flashes of light.
Then this morning, when he had been helping Aunt Petunia make breakfast, he'd burnt his hand on the skillet, he'd had worse but it was still annoying to have his hand sting every time he touched something.
Then, on the way out the door to go to school, Dudley had pulled his hair causing him to stumble and fall off the porch, which had earned him a bloodied elbow and a sore bottom.
Then his teacher had given them a test today, he always hated tests because Dudley would always throw a tantrum if he scored higher than he did and get him in trouble with Uncle Vernon who felt his little clone could do no wrong and therefore he simply must have cheated.
Then, as if all that weren't enough, Dudley and his gang had decided to chase him (again) at recess and were especially persistent, chasing him all the way off school property and, of course, he got in trouble for leaving school grounds. Of course his principle, Mr. Stavrakes, felt obligated to call his Uncle at work to inform him of his misdemeanor.
"He does it on purpose," Harry muttered to himself, thinking of how Mr. Staverakes seemed to like punishing the children in his school. Honestly, the man had a collection of paddles hanging on his wall!
Then, sure enough, when he got home Uncle Vernon was waiting for him, purple faced and furious… it had been the first time he'd actually hit him. Usually he just yelled and tossed him in his cupboard without dinner, the most he had ever done was slap or spank him with a belt, but today he'd completely lost it. It had been all he could do to scramble out the back door and through the hedge when he'd gotten distracted.
Now the sun was going down, he was lost, he was tired, he was sore, he was hungry, and his lip was bleeding.
"This is the worst day ever," he muttered sitting on one of the swings in the park he'd stumbled on.
Yes, little Harry was having a very bad day, but, as he was about to learn, things can always get worse.
It was then that little Harry's luck chose to desert him... if only for a moment, as a man appeared and threw a glass bottle filled with some sort of greenish smoke at his feet.
"What the-" Harry gasped in surprise, unfortunately inhaling the sickly looking smoke. A moment later he fell to his knees coughing violently and spitting up blood. "Wh-what?" Harry wondered, unable to comprehend what was happening to him. Something swirled inside him, reacting and fighting this foreign presence.
"You just inhaled pure Nundu breath. You're as good as dead," the man sneered. "I'm sorry it took me so long to find you. You're a remarkably hard child to find." Then the man kicked Harry in his side to flip him over. "Pity, and my daughter is such a fan."
"Wh-kah! What are you t-talking about?" Harry stammered between coughs, feeling incredibly weak as a dull burn spread through his body. What was going on? Why was this happening to him?
"Oh, pity. You don't remember… not surprising, I suppose. You were only a babe at the time. Ah well, not like you'll survive to hear the whole story. I'll be praised by every dark wizard around the globe for being the one to assassinate you," the self-proclaimed dark wizard, whatever that was, informed the rapidly dying Harry. He looked up to see a girl, not quite a year older than the boy on the ground before him, running frantically toward his downed victim. "Oh look what we have here, a bit of sport attracted by your death rattles. How does it feel knowing what's about to happen to her is your fault?" the man taunted as he turned, pointing some kind of stick at the girl.
Unfortunately for Harry's tormentor, other people being hurt because of him was not something Harry accepted and the boy's magic, that had already been fighting effects of the Nundu's most feared weapon, reacted in a violent, and rather spectacular, way.
Even fate, it seemed, did not want Harry Potter to die just yet as the child, once again, did something no wizard ever had and survived the impossible. In an instant, his magic overtook him, forcing his body to adapt and evolve to combat the thousands of ways the putrid breath was killing him and come out even stronger because of it, becoming an entirely new breed of magical creature. Evolution incarnate.
Even as the man's mouth opened to form the words that would torment another innocent Harry forced himself up, launching himself at his assailant at speeds his little body should not have been capable of.
The girl, whose sanity and life had just been saved, froze in mute horror when the sick boy suddenly jumped on the other man's back gripped his head and snapped his neck as a mass of tendrils erupted from the boy's body, ensnaring the man and absorbing him into the now healthy boy.
"...Are you... alright?" the boy asked, looking up at her, revealing shocking green eyes and a thing scar like a bolt of lightning.
"Y-yes," she stammered, still unable to move.
"That's good," the boy said as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. Then, as he was collapsing to the ground, her savior vanished with a swirl of air.
For a long moment, Hermione Granger stood in the middle of her neighborhood park, trying to process just what the hell she had just witnessed.
She'd just been walking home from the library, minding her own business, when she saw a boy in the park coughing up blood. Her daddy had always said she should help people when they're in trouble so she'd started running to him, only noticing the scary man when it was too late.
She didn't know what the man was going to do to her but she was sure he had done something to the boy, that he was killing him, and she was sure he was going to kill her too. Then the boy had done... whatever it was he had done. It had been amazing, and terrifying... and he'd done it to save her.
And now he was gone.
For the longest time, Hermione Jean Granger would think she had imagined the boy with the green eyes and lightning bolt scar. It wouldn't be until shortly after her eleventh birthday when she was reading one of her history books for her year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that she would realize that she had witnessed the attempted murder and disappearance of Harry James Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived...Again.
Chapter 2: A Newspapery Interlude
Hogwarts: Summer of 1991
At Hogwarts, in the Headmaster's private chambers, there is a wall covered with clippings from every publication one could imagine, a shrine to what Albus Dumbledore considered his greatest failure. Magazine articles, Excerpts from the Daily Prophet, blurbs from the Quibler, anything and everything, written in hundreds of languages, covered the wall. The wizened old headmaster looked from the recently delivered letter on his desk to the first of the articles, one clipping, tacked strategically in the center of the display to stand out amongst the others.
Boy-Who-Lived Missing!
The incident is still under investigation but, from what this reporter has been able to piece together, the wards around Harry Potter's place of residence collapsed early last evening. Albus Dumbledore, who was apparently monitoring these wards, was on the scene within minutes. Upon finding no sign of the boy, the esteemed Mr. Dumbledore (See The Life and Achievements of Albus Dumbledore, page 6) immediately contacted the Ministry of Magic in an effort to expand the search. Anyone with pertinent information is urged to contact Senior Investigations Officer Samantha Carter in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement … more on Page 2
-Excerpt from the Daily Prophet June 8th, 1988
Too this day, no one knew what had happened to little Harry Potter. Though, with no body recovered, a great many held out hope that he was still out there, somewhere, just trying to make his way back to them. Albus Dumbledore was not one of these people, and the article had served as a constant reminder that it had been his decisions that ultimately lead to the boy's fate.
Narcissa Black's Bachelorette Bash
Narcissa Black née Malfoy was seen today in the company of her long estranged sister Andromeda Tonks, Amelia Bones, Vanessa Greengrass, and Penelope Parkinson as they celebrated Miss Black's renewed status as a single woman after the unexplained disappearance of her husband, Lord Lucius Malfoy.
Her only son was seen at Gringotts attempting to claim his father's Lordship as well as the lordship of his mother's maiden family the very next day only to be thrown, physically, from the premises with the announcement that there already was a Lord Malfoy and Lord Black. Narcissa Black, as she now prefers to be named, could not be reached for comment. According to our contacts with the goblins, the title of Lord Malfoy had been claimed by Right of Conquest (leading us to believe that Lucius Malfoy is indeed dead) and that the title of Lord Black had already been claimed by a designated heir.
-Excerpt from Witch Weekly August 18th, 1988
While Albus did not mourn Lucius' loss, indeed the man had been far too good at burning bridges for one of his endeavors to not catch up to him, but the manner in which he had vanished had been... unsettling. He had simply vanished, something that was near impossible to do with a man as high profile as Lucius Malfoy.
Not to mention the mysterious Lord Black who had started making waves almost as soon as he entered the public eye.
Bellatrix Lestrange Now Bellatrix Black Once More!
Ragnok, head of Gringotts London and trying his best not to turn into one of the Minister's Goblin Pies, announced that the Lord Black had dissolved Rodolphous Lestrange's marriage contract to Bellatrix Black on the basis of a breach of contract. It was revealed that Rodolphous Lestrange had never consummated his marriage with Bellatrix Black.
In review of these charges, Miss Black has been questioned on the subject but was unable to provide any evidence and was actually moved from Azkaban based on her failure to even remember any of the acts she was imprisoned for. In fact the poor Miss Black can't remember anything besides her name and a small variety of spells. Shortly after this, she was released to the healers of St Mungo's Long Term Care Ward under heavy guard only for the Anonymous Lord Black to intervene and demand amnesty for his charge. Not wanting the Lord Black to reveal the Ministry's army of Heliopaths, the Minister quickly conceded. It was decided that her memory loss was permanent when every attempt at restoring it failed and only caused Miss Black's emotional state to worsen.
-Excerpt from The Quibbler September 5th, 1989
Alas, Miss Black's freedom had been short lived when she disappeared from her hospital bed a few months later. She had simply been gone when her Healers went to check on her, in fact the only strange thing reported had been that a young woman had entered the secure wing where Miss Black was staying and never come out. The Aurors, and Albus himself, found nothing wrong with the apparition and portkey wards placed on the wing so could be safely assume that either the woman had been a hallucination by the orderly and Miss Black had escaped on foot to an unknown destination, or the amnesiac was kidnapped and taken from the wing through an unprotected channel. Both options were equally unsettling and had sparked serious reforms in St. Mungo's security.
The whole incident had been kept out of the papers but speculation on who, or what, the mysterious woman was had been was still a topic of conversation in certain circle. One "expert" had claimed she was a Vampyre but St Mungo's ward prevented even the strongest of vampires from entering its halls. However, Albus did agree with the man that the mysterious woman was most certainly not human. He'd managed to procure a memory from the orderly and, while he had seen very little of her, her movements were entirely too graceful to be human.
Minister Fudge Retires, Appoints Amelia Bones Minister
Minister Fudge announced today his resignation and apologized for his lack of quality leadership. His last act of administration as minister was assigning a ministral heir, legal through one of the more rare charters in our constitution, so long as the acting minister resigns willingly his assigned heir takes control as if they had just been elected themselves. Still, it came as a great surprise to all involved when his assigned heir was none other than Amelia Bones herself. It was well known to all that there weren't many things the Minister and the head of Law Enforcement agreed on.
Still, the Lady Bones took his offered position and so began the anticipated ministral procedural changes. The Lady Minister has announced a desire to not let down the British people with all the breath in her body.
-Excerpt from The Daily Prophet October 9th, 1989
While not unwelcome, no one who knew Cornelius Fudge would tell you that he had left office voluntarily. Though there was no evidence to support claims that he was forced out of office, it was the common belief.
The thought that possibly it hadn't been Cornelius who'd abandoned his post had crossed Dumbledore's mind but was swiftly discarded based on the fact that, since the war, all who entered the Ministry were checked for imperius or polyjuice and neither was found on the Cornelius who gave up his position.
Sirius Black: Eligible Bachelor Once More!
The man all of us believed to have been convicted of betraying the Potters and murdering Peter Pettigrew and thirteen muggles was found innocent today when the Lord Black intervened once more to save a member of his family from prosecution that was no longer fair nor in Sirus' case, true at all. Minister Bones has offered the Ministry's sincerest apologies to Sirius Black and has declared an investigation into the events that led him to be incarcerated without trial.
Watch your knickers ladies! Black is back!
In related news a bounty has been placed on Peter Pettigrew, the true traitor who led He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to the Potter's place of residence the night they died. It has been proven that he is still very much alive so the Lord Black has posted a fifty thousand galleon reward to the person who brings in Peter Pettigrew Alive.
-Excerpt from Witch Weekly November 8th, 1989
Yet another of his mistakes. He should have known his old students were up to something when Lilly refused to let him cast the Fidelus and he should have insisted that Sirius be tried simply on principle of the matter. Unfortunately, he had gotten caught up in the times and failed yet another of his friend.
But now? Sirius was a free man and old cases were being reviewed for similar mistakes. Wizarding Britain had a moderate and tolerant Leader. Bigotry and prejudice had begun a steady decline. Creature rights movements were gaining momentum. It seemed that all of his wildest dreams were coming true.
And it had only cost them the life of a single child, Harry Potter's death had been the catalyst, the last straw. For Albus had no doubts that Harry Potter was indeed dead. He was well aware that Harry was not happy at Privet Drive, but he had been safe... or so he had believed. The very night the wards had shattered, the charms he had set up to monitor Harry's safety had gone ballistic. Indeed, he had been rushing to little Harry's aid long before the wards had fallen. Alas he was too late and little Harry had suffered for his mistake...
Or so he had believed until this morning when a snowy white owl had dropped a letter on his desk that now hung with the rest of the clippings. It was one of the school letters sent to every first year returned with a response scrawled at the bottom.
I accept your invitation.
-H.J.P.
Harry Potter was coming to Hogwarts and Albus Dumbledore wept, completely overcome with joy and relief. Fate, it seemed, deemed him fit for a second chance. He would not fail Harry again.
Chapter 3: Hogwarts Express Part 1
...Voldemort's reign of terror ended October 31, 1981 during his attempt to kill Harry Potter (Most recent photo available below, provided by Remus Lupin) when the curse he used somehow backfired, destroying him and making the newly orphaned fifteen month old child the first person ever recorded to have survived the Killing Curse. Experts are unsure as to what exactly caused the anomaly that allowed Mr. Potter to survive the previously unbeaten curse but many speculate that...
For just a second, Hermione glanced at the picture in her volume of Greatest Magical Mysteries of the Twentieth Century before reading on. Only to freeze a moment later and snap back to the picture as her eyes grew to the size of dinner plates.
It was a picture of a little boy sitting in his mother's arms and staring around curiously. A little boy with messy black hair and very unique green eyes. Eyes she had only seen in two other places if she counted the woman in the picture. Eyes that she thought she had imagined.
"Oh. My. God!" Hermione whispered, whipping to the back of the book and finding Harry Potter in the index, practically ripping pages out of her book in her hurry to find the section.
"Born July of 1980..." she mumbled scanning the article. "Incident with Voldemort the next year... sent into hiding... vanished three... years... ago," she whispered in awe before she leapt out of her seat and started dancing. "I wasn't imagining him!"
"Nice to know you remembered me," an amused voice spoke from the door of the compartment she was sitting in. Hermione's head snapped up to see a highly amused Harry Potter watching her from the door. "I'm almost hurt you thought I wasn't real," he pouted.
"But you-I saw-how-" the poor girl was so overwhelmed by her situation that she blacked out.
Harry tsk'd at the fainting girl even as he caught her to stop her from hitting the ground. "Pity, that's not even the fun part yet," he mused.
"What a weird dream," Hermione muttered, sitting up as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She must have fallen asleep while she was reading.
"You're quite a master of understatement, aren't you? Weird indeed!" a voice answered from across the compartment.
Hermione's eyes snapped open, glancing across the compartment to see the boy that had saved her years ago.
"Though, I am certainly not a dream, in case you were wondering," Harry added cheekily, glancing up from the book he had been reading to give her a smirk that would turn a lesser girl to incoherent goo.
"B-but, you disappeared! The book even said that no one could find you!" Hermione exclaimed, unable to believe her eyes.
"Amazing how difficult it is to find something that's hiding from you isn't it?" Harry asked, grinning at her.
"You...you were hiding?" Hermione asked, confused. Why would he do that?
"Well yea, if one asshole with a grudge was going to find me I wasn't about to stay put and let someone else have a go, now was I?" Harry confirmed, waving his hand distractedly as though it were nothing out of the ordinary that someone had tried to kill him.
"But you're supposed to ask for help when that happens. Why didn't you go to the police?" Hermione asked before realizing why he couldn't, "Or whatever they call their police..."
"Ironically, the wizarding world is rather... narrow minded," Harry answered diplomatically. Obviously he was not thrilled with the current mindset of the magical community.
"Huh?" Hermione was confused. What did he mean narrow minded?
"Well... You remember what I did that night, yes?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Um, yes..." How could she forget watching a dying boy kill a grown man? And the way he'd done it...
"Yea, I don't know if you haven't noticed from reading your school-books, but that's not a normal skill, even among wizards," Harry pointed out.
"It's not?" She hadn't actually thought about it but she'd just assumed it was some kind of accidental magic.
"No, no it's not. In fact... Well, let's just say if anyone knew I could do that, I'd probably have to fight my way out of Great Britain or be executed for some sort of dark magic," Harry answered. Oddly, the idea of having a country trying to kill him didn't seem to bother him either.
"That's horrible!" Hermione gasped... then again he HAD killed that man. "Is it dark magic?" she asked, her curiosity temporarily overriding the idea that she might be in danger.
"Technically, no, but it would be seen as dark magic in the same way that a werewolf taking the Wolfsbane potion is a dark creature regardless of how dangerous they actually are to those around them," he explained in a tone that clearly communicated his... displeasure, with that particular wizarding philosophy.
"But if it's not um... wait, why would they call what you did dark in the first place?" Hermione asked, trying to reconcile the conflicting statements.
"What happened turned me into a whole new kind of magical creature and because my magic reacted so violently to save you, that capacity to kill would scare the shit out of people. That's what would have it labeled dark," Harry explained with a smile, glad she was at least being logical. Most witches or wizards saw something as dark and therefore evil.
"So... they'd be afraid of you," Hermione decided.
"Fear can be a powerful motivator, especially when society is full of a bunch of xenophobic idiots who can't accept that other magical races can be dangerous but not evil," Harry confirmed.
"Huh?" Hermione asked completely confused.
"The people in power are prejudiced asshats," Harry shrugged. He had a sort of... confidence to the way he spoke.
"O-oh," Hermione muttered, blushing furiously.
"Not all of them of course, just a lot of them and a few too many sheep for those who aren't prejudiced asshats to really make a significant difference," Harry sighed, appearing tired and old beyond his years. "Anyway, I've been talking entirely too long without even asking your name. So, do you have a name or should I come up with something?"
"Um, no. That's not-I mean. Hermione, Hermione Granger," she whispered shyly, suddenly finding her shoelaces very interesting. She couldn't help it, his confidence just made her feel all sorts of emotions she wasn't quite used to. Not to mention that weird flipping thing her stomach was doing.
"Hermione," he repeated, rolling it over his tongue as though testing it. "A pretty name for a pretty girl," Harry complimented delighting in how she kept shifting uncomfortably. He always had like to make the cute ones squirm and she obviously wasn't used to being complimented, well he'd change that. "Your parents wouldn't happen to be fans of Shakspere would they?"
Hermione's mouth fell open in disbelief.
"I'll take that as a yes," Harry chuckled.
"Um, Harry? If it's so dangerous for you to... well you know. Why are you here?" Hermione asked, trying to reconcile what he had told her earlier with what he was actually doing. "Not that I'm not happy to see you! It's just..."
"I am only in danger if I let people know what I am capable of," Harry denied. "Besides, I happen to know that those who would be most likely to call for my execution have left Britain over the last couple years."
"But... aren't you afraid that I might tell somebody?" He barely knew her! Why would he trust her with something like this?
"Not really..." Harry shrugged. "I get the feeling you believe you owe me too much. Add the fact that you don't see me as evil or dark and you really have no reason to rat me out."
"And what's to stop me from doing it to get back at you, prat?" she huffed, crossing her arms. She didn't really care for how he was telling her what she was feeling.
"My dashing good looks and charming personality?" he asked, running his hand through his hair flirtatiously.
"I think I'm a better judge of that than you Potter," Hermione shot back, valiantly holding in her laughter and somehow managing to keep a straight face as a soft blush worked it's way into her cheeks.
Harry just blankly stared at Hermione knowing she'd cave if he just kept it up.
"...Unless your a poof?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. Oh but this was fun!
Well, it was fun up to the point where Harry decided to take it as a challenge.
Before Hermione even realized he had moved, Harry had crossed the compartment and was standing right in front of her. Gasping in surprise, she didn't even thing to resist as he placed a hand on the back of her head, gently gripping her hair and tugging it so that she tilted her head ever so slightly, and kissed her.
Slowly Hermione relaxed, her eyes fluttering shut as the new sensations Harry was creating overwhelmed her.
Releasing her after a few minutes he smirked at her. "Still think I'm a poof?" he asked, a knowing smirk dancing on his lips. He would never get tired of doing that. There was just something about making a girl's head swim that made it incredibly satisfying.
"Oh my..." Hermione whispered, blinking dazedly and not hearing a word he said.
Grinning at the stunned soon to be twelve year old Harry couldn't help but cheekily wait for her to say something.
"I still say I'm more qualified to judge your looks and charm," Hermione jabbed, hoping he might offer more "proof." As far as she was concerned, the story books did NOT do kissing justice.
"Well then, I suppose if I'm such a poof that you won't be getting another kiss," Harry shrugged, turning around to go back to his seat.
"Bollocks," Hermione muttered before clapping her hands over her mouth in horror.
Harry snickered before getting an idea. "If you apologize and call me the manliest man ever I might reconsider."
"Keep dreaming prat!" she fired back. She was not about to be blackmailed over a kiss. "Besides, you're only eleven! It wasn't even that great!"
An eye twitch later, Harry was right next to Hermione again as his hand met her bottom at a fairly high speed, somehow managing to connect solidly despite the fact she was sitting on a bench.
"Oi!" she cried in surprise, jumping out of her seat and rubbing her sore bum. "What did you do that for!"
"You not only called me a poof, which I still want an apology for, but you haven't admitted you actually liked the kiss, so a spank is what you get." He sounded very matter-of-fact, as though it were a perfectly reasonable response.
Hermione huffed, crossing her arms. "I never said you were a poof. I simply suggested it. Your were the one that got defensive," she pointed out, smirking at her own wit. "Which begs the question-"
"I just don't like a pretty girl accusing me of batting for the other team," Harry shrugged interrupting the brunette.
"I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm simply suggesting a possibility and allowing you to make a fool of yourself," Hermione replied, smirking. 'When did I get so cheeky?' the usually introverted and bossy girl wondered. She was never this playful, ever. Though, she did have to admit that she was enjoying herself.
"Mhm..." Harry vocalized, not at all bothered. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying their little game. "And I'm just saying it's a possibility that you enjoyed that kiss more than you're admitting. I'd even go so far as to suggest the possibility of you wanting me to do it again."
"Well, that's not so difficult considering that it was only one kiss," Hermione shot back. "Perhaps I need to be persuaded?" she mused, tapping her chin thoughtfully.
"Don't need to admit much when you're saying that," Harry whispered, grinning against her ear and very glad he'd used a few of the spells he HAD learned to seal and silence the compartment against outside intrusion.
'When did he get so close?' Hermione wondered as he gripped her hair again, pinning her to the wall of the compartment. "Mhm," she sighed as his lips crashed into hers, thoroughly enjoying the more aggressive feel of this kiss. 'Aren't boys still supposed to be rabid or something?' she wondered for a moment before Harry's fingers started playing the sensitive skin behind her ear and she decided that whoever had come up with that idea was absolutely mental.
As this was happening, Harry felt his magic starting to react strangely, as if it were reaching out toward Hermione. He'd kissed girls before, make no mistake, he was no stranger to this sort of situation, but normally he wasn't this forward. Perhaps something about Hermione was causing his magic to act up? He'd always been a creature of instinct so if his magic was somehow attracted to her. That would explain his reaction to her but even then... his magic was being unusually possessive, like it didn't want him to ever let her go. It was all kind of confusing really.
So Harry did what he did best, he followed his instincts.
Meanwhile, Hermione was in a world all her own, completely unaware of the tendril that had formed out of the hand currently twined in her hair and snaked its way to the base of her skull leaving an invisible marker on the back of her neck.
After he let go of her he grinned. "Proof enough Hermy?" he questioned cheekily.
"Hermy?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. She would have put her hand on her hip and tapped her foot but he still had her pinned to the wall.
"Well I can't call you Hermione all the time, entirely too long, so we'll have to find something else that works, maybe by the end of the year I'll think of a better name," Harry mused with a shrug.
"Um, you could call me Jean I suppose," she mused. "It's my middle name."
"Too Ex-men," Harry denied.
"What? Afraid of strong girls?" she quipped.
"Not at all, but you're no red-head and you're not psycho-kinetic," Harry shrugged his face coming dangerously close to hers again. "Strong women are even more fun than most women actually," he teased.
"And what makes you think I couldn't use magic to turn my hair red and become psycho-kinetic?" Hermione challenged. She didn't like being told what she could and could not do. Not one bit.
"Because there are no such spells. I might be able to find a way but you couldn't survive what I did to become what I am. Not that I wouldn't appreciate the thought but was rather painful so I'd prefer not to put you through that."
"I could invent or adapt a spell," she pointed out.
"Maybe, but using psycho-kinetic abilities on the scale Jean Gray does in the comics would be beyond almost any wizard or witch who has ever lived," Harry waved off her statement. "And that's just considering the raw power and control. Besides, even if you COULD, why would you want to?"
"To say that I did it," she shrugged, "And the irony of introducing myself as Jean Granger. I might even be able to make someone think I was who the character was based on."
"Unlikely, she was created before either of us were born," Harry pointed out.
"And that right there, would be the punchline," she snickered.
Harry sighed and shrugged. "Still wouldn't call you Jean," he grinned. "Not quite right."
"Well you're not calling me Hermy," she told him with no small amount of finality.
"Very well, but like I said. I will find it before the end of the year," Harry replied with confidence before he kissed her one more time fiercely and then just stood pinning her to the wall.
"I reserve the right to veto your ideas," she warned him. She was NOT about to get stuck with some stupid nickname.
"Worry not Lady," Harry grinned tossing out the first nickname of many to come. "I won't call you anything you really dislike."
"Good boy," she said, patting him on the head, "Now, as much as I like this position," 'What's up with that anyway?' "I'd like to sit down if you don't mind."
Harry swatted her hand away, a single brow reaching toward his hairline at her bold statement. Then, with a dramatic bow accompanied by a great deal of exaggerated and unnecessary flourishing hand gestures, he took a step back, allowing her to to take her seat before sitting down himself. "Go right on ahead. Might want to run to the girl's bathroom though, gotta change into the school robes and you don't want to get stuck in the rush, unless of course you want to do it with lil old me in the same room."
"I think I'll pass," she said, rolling her eyes, "How long was I asleep anyway?"
"About three hours," Harry replied with a shrug. He had no idea how she'd stayed out that long purely from shock. Perhaps she had been up late studying? Nah, that couldn't be it, what kind of self respecting eleven year old would study that hard before even getting to school?
All across the multiverse, the various incarnations of Harry Potter suddenly burst out laughing.
"Really?" she asked, astonished that she had slept so long.
"Really," Harry confirmed. "No Idea how though."
"Guess I was more tired than I thought," she said with a frown.
"You passed out just moments after laying eyes on my impressive figure. I'm not quite sure, but I have the sneaking suspicion that it didn't have anything to do with being tired," Harry shrugged, teased. Watching the blood rush to his friend's face with no small amount of satisfaction. "Why did you think I wasn't real anyway?"
"Cause it made no sense," Hermione replied, shrugging. "I'm a normal girl coming home from the library when I see a cute boy coughing up blood. Then some crazy man comes out of nowhere like he's going to blow me to pieces only for the dying boy to come to my rescue? That sounds like something you'd hear at the funny farm to me... Well, if you don't know about magic that is, but it still sounds very unlikely."
"A fair point I suppose," Harry conceded with a shrug. "Well, now's as good a time as any. Why don't you go get dressed before the lunch trolley comes," he said unsealing the door.
"There's a lunch trolley?" Hermione asked, if she'd known that, she wouldn't have packed a lunch.
"Yeah, but it's mostly snacks and sweets," Harry told her.
"Oh, alright then," she replied, pulling a set of robes from her trunk and ducking out of the compartment when a thought hit her. Harry was already in his robes but had been wearing simple jeans and a jacket when he'd first shown up. 'Did he change in the compartment while I was asleep?' she wondered as she locked the door of the loo. The thought made her blush. Yet somehow made he disappointed that she hadn't gotten a look in...
What on earth had gotten into her today?
Chapter 4: Hogwarts Express Part 2
Harry chuckled as Hermione left the compartment. Turning, he looked up at his owl and smiled at the beautiful white bird. "Think she'll realize why she wanted me to kiss her again?" he asked the snow owl.
"Prek," replied Hedwig as she shook her head at him.
"Yea you're probably right."
The glare she gave him clearly stated that of course she was right and how dare he insinuate otherwise.
"Whoa!" a voice cried from the door.
Turning around, Harry found a red haired boy a little older than him standing in the door staring at Hedwig.
"George! Get your arse over here and have a look at this owl!" he called.
A moment later another boy, completely identical to the other showed up. "Bloody hell! She's channeling mum!"
"That's just scary."
Hedwig preened at the attention, entirely pleased with herself and satisfied that these silly humans understood her greatness.
"Great, you've just gone and inflated her already massive ego. Oh the joy of having an egotistical, insanely intelligent, bacon addicted owl," Harry quipped.
Hedwig whipped around staring at him intently.
"Lemme guess. I mentioned it so you need to get your bacon or I get bit?"
She hopped closer to him, somehow managing to look incredibly menacing.
Menacing as she may have seemed to Fred and George, Harry just rolled his eyes and gave her a piece of bacon. "Bacon Addict," he muttered.
"Is she just a regular post owl or some special breed?" George asked, or was if Fred?
"To my knowledge? Just a normal owl. To be honest though, she's abnormal as hell in every other way," Harry shrugged not really caring which twin it was.
For a moment Hedwig looked incensed, hopping up onto Harry's shoulder and taking a vicious nip at his ear.
"Well, she's wicked, wouldn't you say George?" Ok so it was Fred.
"She is indeed, brother mine," the other twin agreed. "A bit violent though."
"Definitely violent," Harry muttered glaring at his owl who glared right back.
"Who's violent?" Hermione asked as she came back from the loo.
"Hedwig here," Harry responded pointing at his owl.
"Well, she's much cuter than the other owls I've seen," Hermione admitted.
Hedwig puffed herself up again, giving Harry a smug look.
"Gah, not again! Why does everyone feed my owl's ego!"
"Because it's true?" Hermione tried.
Hedwig suddenly started making a gagging noise that worried the children until they realized that she was laughing.
"Yea, but she takes it to extremes. I swear she'd attack another bird if I ever tried to send out mail with them," Harry muttered.
Suddenly, Hedwig stopped laughing and gave him a very dangerous look.
"See what I mean?" Harry said.
"I don't know Harry," Hermione giggled, "I think she might just take the letter then bite you."
Hedwig bobbed her head.
"After killing the owl I gave it to before her," Harry added.
Hedwig started releasing a high pitched nose as she refused to meet their gazes.
"Mate... is your owl whistling Dixie?" one of the twins asked.
"I think she might be... Where the bloody hell did she learn that?" Harry questioned stunned at his owl.
"Best-" Fred started, or was it George?
"Owl-" George (Fred?) continued.
"Ever!" they finished together.
"...You're those kinds of twins aren't you," Hermione mused, inspecting the two red heads.
"They are," Harry confirmed with an amused look back on his face.
"I'm... not sure how to feel about this," Hermione decided.
"Torn between laughing at them, or ripping their heads off? Yea, I'd wager they make a lot of people feel that way, on purpose too," Harry remarked.
"Well, I can see where-Hedwig was it?-gets her violent tendencies from," George mused. "Wouldn't you agree George?" Damn so it was Fred.
"Why yes George, I would," George agre-wait, what? Stupid twins confusing the author and causing rips in the fourth wall.
"I never said that I want to rip your heads off, you amuse me far too much for that," Harry replied with a grin while making the mental note to make sure they were telling him the truth and plant a tracker on them both so he could identify them.
"But you did-"
"Think of it," the twins pointed out.
"Only in the capacity that a person thinks about how someone may want to murder the minister. Doesn't mean they want to do it themselves now does it?" Harry retorted.
"Harry, be nice," Hermione ordered.
"Yes Harry be-wait a tic! Harry? As in Potter? The Boy-Who-Lived? The one that's been missing for years? That Harry?" George (I think?) asked, getting very excited.
"Nope. I'm Harry Plopper," Harry replied cheekily. "Of course I'm Harry Potter you dolt! How many other Harry's with black hair, green eyes, and enough sarcasm bottled up to sink the Titanic do you think there are?" he sarcastically replied with a grin signifying he really was only messing with them.
"At least two," Fred answered without missing a beat.
"Oh met my own evil twin have you? Yea, he's like that," Harry quipped back.
"Interesting bloke though," George said.
"Oh definitely, odd how he decides he has to kill me just because I'm the good twin though," Harry mused continuing to play along.
"Indeed, that's why we both agreed to be bad twins," Fred explained.
"Ah, damn. Why didn't we think of that? Oh yea, the whole one of us must be the good twin because of the Dark Lord thing..." Harry trailed off.
"Why not just be the next Dark Lords and kill off the competition?" Hermione asked innocently.
"That's what he wants to do when I get done with the current one. He's decided that twins battling each other would be so much more of an epic storyline than Moldyshorts ever could be." Harry replied with a shrug as if his evil twin couldn't be helped.
"Mate, you are either fearless-" George deadpaned.
"Or completely mental," Fred added.
"We salute you!" they finished together.
"Thank you my good men," Harry saluted back.
"Boy's are weird," Hermione muttered, finding her seat and pulling out one of her books.
Hedwig hooted in agreement.
Harry and the twins shared a look before the three of them responded in unison, "And girls have cooties!"
"I do not have head lice!" Hermione cried indignantly.
An awkward silence filled the compartment. "Erm... We never said you did," one of the twins responded after a long pause.
"Cooties is slang for head lice," Hermione pointed out.
"Right... Yea we weren't talking about those," Harry said slowly.
"Oh," Hermione responded blushing in embarrassment.
"Anyway, which twin is which for sure?" Harry asked trying to know so he could mark the twins so he knew.
"Well, I'm Gred, and this is my lesser half Forge," one of the twins explained.
"... Real names please?" Harry questioned again. Couldn't label them like that, they'd get confused too easily.
"Curses, foiled again!" one of the twins cried dramatically.
"Stop being such a drama queen Fred," his brother told him.
"Wait, I thought I was George."
"No, you're Fred, I'm George."
"Are you sure you aren't Fred."
"Not entirely."
"We're not going to get a straight answer out of you... are we," Hermione muttered.
"Nope!" the twins chirped happily.
Harry grinned and marked the one who had called the other as Fred. The twin had lied when he called the other Fred which would make himself Fred. "I win," he snickered.
"Well in that case, you," she said, pointing to Fred, "are Thing 1, and you," she continued, now pointing to George, "are Thing 2."
"Ah, but if you can't tell us apart how can you know which one of us is supposed to be Thing 1 or Thing 2?" George questioned.
"Oh, I already have a plan for that," Hermione told him a little too sweetly.
"And I already can tell you apart," Harry quipped.
"Balls to that!" George cried.
"Our own mother can't tell us apart!" Fred agreed.
"But I can. She's just never gotten clever about it," Harry replied with his signature cheeky grin.
"What are you on about?" Fred asked. Clever about it? What could he have done?
"Nothing Fredrick my boy, nothing at all," Harry smarmed. It would be immensely amusing to keep them guessing for a while, at least until he knew they were the type to keep his abilities a secret... until they were ready to be let out anyway.
"How did you..." Fred wondered.
"That's for me to know, and you to agonize over while you try to figure it out," Harry teased. "I'm not telling you, not anytime soon anyway," he added.
"Did he just challenge us?" George asked turning to his brother.
"I do believe he did brother mine," Fred answered.
Harry just grinned at them. Even they wouldn't be able to figure out the cause for it when he was the first and only of his kind.
"Harry, you're not playing fair," Hermione chided as the twins left with a solemn vow of thwarting Harry and his evil plot to unravel their Confusing Twins Routine.
"Meh, I'll tell them eventually once I get to know them better. I just know you won't tell anyone. Can't explain it," Harry shrugged in reply.
A few moments of companionable silence later and a sad almost haunted face appeared in the doorway. Draco Malfoy, or Black as he now was since his mother had been absorbed back into the Black Family, opened the door and saw Harry. "So it's true. My mother said you might be on the train despite your disappearance..." Draco offered as explanation.
"Um, not to be rude, but who are you?" Hermione asked, getting an unpleasant vibe from the boy.
"Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," he responded, managing a sort of tired grace, "And you are?"
"Hermione Granger," she answered.
"Granger..." Draco repeated softly, his eyes narrowing almost imperceptively.
"What of it?" Hermione questioned her eyebrow raising in annoyance just from the way he said her name.
"Nothing, I just have never heard the name before," Draco deflected.
'In other words, she's not from a pureblood line,' Harry translated, it seemed Draco had retained more of his father than he had hoped.
"So, where have you been?" Draco inquired, turning back to Harry.
"Around," Harry dodged. He too had heard Draco's tone and didn't like it. "Have you gotten to meet your new Lord of House yet?" Harry asked trying to change the subject.
For a moment Draco said nothing as he stared at Harry. "No, as of yet I have not," he said, his tone slow and deliberate before turning to leave, "A good day to you both, I'm sure we'll be seeing a great deal of each other."
"That was... unsettling," Hermione decided.
"Indeed it was Mio," Harry responded tossing out another nickname. "I think it would be best if he never found out about my abilities or my lordship, at least, not yet."
"Did you just call me Mio?" Hermione asked, not at all impressed.
"Why yes, yes I did," Harry grinned. This would be fun.
With that, the train pulled into Hogsmeade and it was time to disembark.
Chapter 5: Hogwarts
"...Could you repeat that please?" Severus asked, poking his wand in his ear and casting a quick cleaning charm.
'Poor Severus,' Dumbledore thought. The young Potions Master had never been the same since Harry had "died" and the last living piece of Lilly Potter along with him. "Harry Potter, is coming to Hogwarts," he repeated.
"Pomona..." the young professor started.
"No, I didn't spike your breakfast... this time," she replied, muttering the chaser under her breath.
Severus nodded slowly. "Ok... I'll believe you for now... How long have you known this?" he asked the Merlin look-alike.
"About two weeks or so ago I received a letter. It was Mr. Potter's acceptance of the invitation wesent him, and before you ask, no, I didn't know about the invitation pen writing one out for him. The enchantments used in its detection net are very old and drastically different from the ones we used in the search. If we checked the outgoing letters like we used to before the ministry cut our funds and forced me to fire mine and Minerva's secretaries I'd have told you then." Dumbledore informed the, for once, lively potions master.
No one would ever accuse Severus Tobias Snape of being "soft," "weak hearted," or any other such things. In fact, most would say that he was one of the most hardened, gutsy, and dangerous men they had ever had the pleasure, or displeasure, of meeting. But after the murder of Lilly Potter and the disappearance of Harry Potter the man had acted as if he had nothing to live for. Ever since his horrible mistakes in joining Tom then reporting the prophecy which led to James, who contrary to public knowledge had in fact grown to tolerate Snape after the Slytherin Alumni crawled to Lily's ankles and begged forgiveness, and Lily's death as well as the presumed death of little Harry the once neigh unshackable man had been a shell of his former self.
Now however...
"Leave it to a Potter to convince the entire world he was dead then make a grand entrance," Snape sneered with the barest hint of... was that approval?
"...Are you smiling Severus?" Minerva asked. She could have sworn... YES! There it was again! The edges of his lips were twitching!
All signs of mirth vanished from Snape's face as one of his brows arched toward his hairline. "No, perhaps you are feeling your age Minerva?"
"Nope. You smiled, I saw it. You can't lie to me," The transfiguration professor replied looking like the cat that caught the canary, which considering her animagus form was entirely possible.
"Perhaps I should brew that Dementia Draught that Poppy has been asking for," Snape mused as though he hadn't heard her.
Minerva however simply ignored him continuing to grin like... well, like the Cheshire Cat.
"Yes, well, anyway, we are going to have to organize security for Harry. It's evident by the man who found his house in the first place that he isn't safe as anticipated at the Dursleys." Dumbledore spoke.
"And whatever hole he crawled into isn't?" Septima snorted. "Honestly Albus, the boy has been impossible to find for years. Evading all manner of scrying, tracking charm, location ritual, and every other obscure method you used in your crusade to find him."
"Everyone assumed him dead. That gave him protection by the simple fact that no one knew for a fact he WAS out in the world. I'm not saying we force him into a gilded cage and hide him, simply that we offer the protection in addition to letting him stay wherever it is he has been living all these years. That is, of course, assuming that it's still safe for him now that the rest of the world will be aware of his continued existence," the old Headmaster explained. Honestly, what did they take him for? Some overbearing control freak with a deep seated need to play Puppet Master with the rest of the world?
Suddenly, all across the multi-verse, many alternate forms of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore sneeze as they watch their carefully laid plans fall apart.
"I think we are going about this the entirely wrong way," Imrial Borehink, the new muggle studies teacher, interjected.
"How do you mean my dear?" Albus asked, genuinely curious. What could possibly be wrong with offering the boy additional protections?
"Shouldn't we meet him first?"
She was met by a deafening silence, as crickets chirped off in the distance.
Why hadn't they thought of that?
Meanwhile,on the platform at Hogsmeade Station...
"Firs' Years, this way!"
Harry, who had been stealthily resting his hand on Hermione's hip moved it to avoid direct suspicion. He didn't really feel like letting go of her but he'd rather avoid as many awkward questions as he could as long has he could. After-all, he was dead, right?
Nodding at the twins as they walked past and up the path for the other years, he followed the large groundskeeper away from the platform. After a short walk they found themselves at the lakeside where a small fleet of boats sat waiting.
"No more'n four to a boat!"
"Hope you packed your sea legs," Harry teased as he and Hermione got into one of the boats further down the line.
"You sure you won't dissolve if you fall in?" she shot back.
"Everyone in?" Hagrid called, making sure that the last of the students had made it to one of the boats before calling, "Forward!"
The ride to the castle was fairly uneventful. Harry saved one boy, a Neville Longbottom, from falling in when he stood up in shock after a giant squid bumped their boat.
"Ok, now that is an impressive castle," Harry said, giving a low whistle as the towering form of Hogwarts Castle came into view on the cliffs above the lake.
"Wow..." Hermione whispered, her eyes raking the many towers reaching up into the sky above thick walls of heavy stone as they drew closer.
Reaching the far bank the group disembarked from their boats and headed inside following Hagrid to an entrance chamber which, if the noise coming from the other side was anything to go by, lead to the main hall.
"Ye lot wait here, I'll go tell the Deputy Headmistress yer here and she'll be along shortly," Hagrid informed the group leaving through the large door.
"I like him," Harry mused, staring after the very large man.
"You know, for someone who was afraid of facing a lynch mob, you're making a lot of friends today," Hermione mused. After what he'd told her, she hadn't expected him to be so... social.
Harry shrugged. "Can't really explain it. He just feels like a kindred spirit, y'know?"
Hermione raised her right eyebrow in an expression stereotypically found on urban black women in America.
"Not right now, tell you later, the Deputy Headmistress is here," Harry responded to the unvoiced question and not five seconds later the doors swung open.
"How'd he do that?" a boy near them asked his friend as a severe looking woman walked up to them.
"Great ears," Harry whispered after leaning over next to the kid's head knowing full well that most people couldn't have heard the boy.
For some reason the severe woman cracked a small grin before she straightened her face back out and announced herself as one Professor McGonagall. "Welcome to Hogwarts," she said. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of you house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."
"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."
"Sounds like a bribe for good behavior if you ask me," Harry whispered in Hermione's ear.
McGonagall's lip twitched. "Now, the Sorting will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting," she finished, her eyes lingering on several of the new students whose robes where out of sorts.
"How exactly do they sort the houses?" one of the children asked.
"That, my dear children, is a surprise," Mcgonagall replied before slipping back into the Great Hall.
"I heard they make you fight a troll," a boy told Neville.
"...You wouldn't happen to have a twin brothers would you?" Harry asked as he eyed the boy's flaming red hair.
"You know Fred and George?" the boy asked, surprised.
"Yep. They wouldn't happen to be the ones that mentioned the troll would they?"
"Yeah, they told me..." Suddenly the boy's eyes went wide with understanding, "Those wankers were probably having me on!"
"Language Mr. Weasley!" the Professor McGonagall called as returned. "We're ready for you, follow me please."
"It really is a silly thought. A troll in Hogwarts? Honestly!" Hermione ranted under her breath.
Harry had the sudden urge to smack his new friend but couldn't explain why...
End Notes
And there you have it, with the addition of some proof reading.
Anyway, the idea was for Harry to essentially play the shadow master as the mysterious, anonymous, and "omnipotent" Lord Black as he furthered a political agenda to drag the Wizarding World into the 20th century kicking and screaming while spending most of his time screwing around in the most entertaining fashion we could think of until 4th year. Once the tourney rolled around the plan was... completely undefined. Frankly we were torn between Harry saying "Fuck it!" and roflstomping the tourney and McV at the end or continuing his ninja act. Not that it really matters at this point but there you go.
Again, anyone interested in adopting this or creating a modified version of it please contact either myself of Selo via PM.
-Delta