New Friends

During his first year at the School of Alexandria, Harry went through a number of changes.

The first changes were his eating habits. He'd never been a big eater and oft times had to be force to do so. However, about two weeks into his first term, he found himself noticeably hungry and eating more than he ever had. His diet also changed. He was too hungry to protest any lack of meat or the far too many beans and greens he ate. That it all tasted good helped a lot.

"You're the healthiest, most well-regulated kid I know," Charlus mused as Harry ate Al-Mujadara. "Cleanest, too."

Harry also found his sleeping habits changed. Charlus and Euphemia use to have to force him to bed. However, since his afternoons were full of physical activity he was exhausted in the evenings. Not only did he go to bed on his own, he, to his dissatisfaction, went to bed early.

Harry also took to bathing like the Egyptians. That took a little more time to develop and was less organic. At first it was tedious and a lot of work. He'd known to wash his hands, but had had to make a concreted effort to remember to do so before lunch at school. Though he woke early, he'd had to force himself to get up and shower. At some point in October, he began washing his arms and neck, too, before a meal. At home, he would change his shirt.

By the time June arrived, the School of Alexandria had accomplished its goal. Harry had a sense of order and responsibility. As such, Mr. Crouch was pleased with the six year old he met that August.

Camping had been an interesting experience and an overall pleasant one. Being six and having spent a year moving almost non-stop, Harry did not appreciate the stillness and near solitude camping in the Irati Forest provided. Mr. Crouch allowed him to be wild, within reason, so he did enjoy himself.

There was one incident that made the experience interesting. They'd just returned from a hunt. Mr. Crouch had done the hunting while Harry had sat in a tree drawing. Harry was coloring in his trees, flowers, and bugs while sitting on the ground. Mr. Crouch sat on a rock roasting a rabbit.

Mr. Crouch was a thin, typically well-dressed man who had a fondness for neatness. Even now, as they sat in a forest, his black hair was pushed away from his face and not a strand was out of place. No hair in his eyebrows or toothbrush mustache was out of place either. Neither his T-shirt nor his cargo shorts sported a wrinkle.

The pair sat in somewhat of a clearing. There was a little more dirt than grass and fir trees stood tall all around them. Their tent was open and just behind them.

'There he is.'

Harry looked up with a frown. No one was coming. Maybe Mr. Crouch was talking about the rabbit being done, but that didn't make complete sense, though.

'Took my food…'

He stood up when he heard a rustling noise. Then he saw the grass move a little. His eyes widened when a snake raised its head very near Mr. Crouch.

'Go away,' Harry commanded.

The snake paused and turned its head to Harry. Mr. Crouch, too, whipped his head around to Harry. He looked around and spotted the snake then shot to his feet, his wand seemingly jumped onto his hand of its own accord.

'Shut up, human.'

Before the snake could strike, Mr. Crouch waved his wand. In a blink, it vanished and Mr. Crouch turned back to Harry.

Harry grinned and pointed at him. "Don't take food that doesn't belong to you."

Mr. Crouch raised his eyebrows. "Is that the reason I was almost killed?"

"Yeah, you didn't hear him?"

"No, I, unfortunately, am not a parselmouth."

Harry frowned. "A what?"

"A parselmouth; a person who can speak parseltongue. You can speak to and can understand snakes."

"Oh."

Mr. Crouch sat down. "Keep that to yourself. Gellert Grindelwald would love to add Harry Potter to his collection of half-blood parselmouths." He exhaled. "Your mind is an open-book and you have the audacity of a seasoned man ten times your age."

Harry retook his seat. "What's that mean?"

"The eyes are windows to the soul and to the mind. Through your eyes, I can posses your soul. Do you understand what that means?"

Harry frowned. "Possession? Like the reason we have to be careful in the pyramids? I thought you could only do that if you're dead?"

"That is a different kind of possession and a discussion we will delay for many years. Do not go home and ask Charlus for he will not answer and only grow irate we touched the subject at all."

Harry shrugged. "Fine."

"Through your eyes, I can, should I choose to, also feel your emotions, hear your thoughts, and see your memories."

"Mind reading?"

Mr. Crouch shook his head. "No, the mind isn't a book. You can liken Legilimency to a muggle movie. Have you ever seen one of those?"

Harry nodded. "Uncle Charlie took me to see The Goonies."

"As I said, I can feel your emotions, hear your thoughts, and see your memories, but much like a piece of art the interpretation is often left up to the viewer. Now most don't enter the mind to see any and everything. They enter with the goal of seeing one to a handful of memories. A master legilimens can induce an emotion to make the specific memories easier to find."

Harry sat up. This was magical theory and the most anyone had discussed magic with him. This wasn't baby stuff either. It was real, hard magic.

"We've digressed. Your problem – and mine – is that you aren't afraid of people. You meet my eye in a way men and women in their fifties and sixties cannot. I don't imagine you would shy away from Grindelwald and Dumbledore. In fact, I think you would force yourself to look at them, which presents a very big problem," Mr. Crouch said. "I will have you next to them in less than forty-eight hours."

Harry tilted his head. "Because they'll do the legacy?"

"Legilimency and Grindelwald maybe. Not too big of a problem yet, but a future one Charlus and your grandmother will have to solve in the meantime," Mr. Crouch said.

"How will they solve it?"

Mr. Crouch took the rabbit off the fire. "By teaching you occlumency. Start meditating on the weekends and at night, too."

"I already do."

"Of course, Henry's son would make you do that…"

Harry stretched his legs. "Can you tell me more theory?"

Mr. Crouch nodded as he mixed greens and fungi in the rabbit fat. "Occlumency is the direct counter to legilimency and other forms of mind arts, but it was specifically created to counter legilimency. As your eponym stated over and over again, the best mind is a clear, calm mind brimming with knowledge and sense…"

Harry spent the night listening to Mr. Crouch explain all sorts of defensive magic to him. He allowed Harry to ask him all sorts of questions and answered them. Some answers were 'too much for a child.'

"I won't explain such Dark magic to a six year old." Mr. Crouch hummed. "Have you begun to read theory?"

Harry shook his head. "I just read adventure books and comics. Uncle Charlie said we'll start that soon 'cause Henry started him at six."

Mr. Crouch nodded. "I can lend a hand, I suppose. You've shown interest in my area of expertise, but that might be because it's just magic. What else are you curious about?"

"Plants and animagi. And creatures. Snakes."

Mr. Crouch nodded. "Everything then. I think your guardians and I can do something extraordinary in the next five years."

He sounded giddy.

They remained in the wild for the next twenty-four hours. By the time night had fallen the next day, they were in a cabin with running water and access to far better food. Despite how much Harry enjoyed his time outside, he, who had spent almost a year bathing two to three times everyday, was happy to be able to shower thoroughly.

The next day, they took a port-key away from the cabin. They landed inside an empty queue which was on pavement in some sort of park. Harry spied skyscrapers, but when he craned his neck at eye level, he only saw rows of queues, many of which were empty. Two persons dressed in lavender or deep purple with gold masks stood just behind each queue. Opposite them were trash cans.

Mr. Crouch tossed the old boot that had brought them there in the nearest can.

Harry stood on his toes to see the inside. He watched as the boot hit the bottom then disapppeared.

"Brilliant trick, but why?"

"While muggles are in the know, that doesn't mean we want them to be participants. If they get their hands on a port-key that didn't die immediately on arrival they can and will join us."

They walked away from the queues and down the wide pavement lined with trees. A few minutes after arriving at the street, a black, town car pulled up to take them to a hotel.

They entered a grand lobby with cream-colored walls and a sleek, marble floor the color of café. The space was littered with people dressed in robes.

"Would you like some breakfast?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, please."

So Harry was treated to a burrito stuffed with eggs, black beans, chorizo, and cheese and a cup of strawberry mint agua fresca.

After, Mr. Crouch brought him to Charlus.

A young woman opened the door a few moments after Mr. Crouch knocked. She was beautiful with curly, ash brown hair that fell down her back and big, blue eyes. Harry recalled Albert's eyes and knew he looked up at his stepmother.

She smiled at Mr. Crouch, but her face grew strained when she looked down at Harry. Mr. Crouch had brought her attention to him by placing his hand on Harry's head.

"Good morning, Mrs. Potter. Is Charlus here?"

She hesitated then nodded and, with an air of disappointment, stepped aside. Mr. Crouch led Harry inside and they found a small group in the living room. Most were people Harry didn't know, but he knew Charlus and bounded over to sit in his lap once he spotted him.

"Good morning," Mr. Crouch said.

The rest of the room greeted him half-heartedly. They were too busy looking between Harry, James, and Mr. Crouch or Harry, Charlus, and Mr. Crouch to greet him with more enthusiasm.

Harry waved at Sirius, who grinned at him as he took a seat in corner. From that point he could see everyone's face.

A barrel-chested man with a sharp face and long, silver hair leaned forward. "Good morning, Bartemius. What brings you by?"

Mr. Crouch looked at Charlus, who smiled. "I needed to deliver Charlus his package." He waved his hand and a note floated to Charlus. "Please, read it."

"Something you wish to share with the room?" Maynard said.

Charlus held the note up with a frown. He stared at it for a few moments before looking at Harry.

"I wouldn't have sent a note if I did now would I, Maynard?"

Charlus tapped the note with his wand. The Latin alphabet became the Arabic abjad.

Maynard looked at James. "I'm sure his father would like to know."

Charlus waved his wand then the note smacked another old man in the face. "Read it, you old, stupid fuck."

Mr. Crouch had stepped further into the room and now almost towered over Maynard. Maynard sat back and looked surprised at the action.

"I see why people don't like to ask you questions. That's not a nice face. You should try to be more welcoming," Harry said.

Mr. Crouch stepped back then winked at Harry. "I make that face to discourage."

"I'm encouraged now."

"Of course, you are," Mr. Crouch held up his hand. "Please, excuse me, but I must be off. Do enjoy the rest of your day," To Harry he said, "I'll see you at half past noon."

Harry waved. "Bye." He turned to Charlus. "I have problems."

"You have no idea," Charlus said. He burned the note. "You're so very lucky your wife is as underhanded and proud as her father and yours. We might be in a dark place otherwise."

James cleared his throat. "What are you talking about?"

"James, I'm not about to answer your questions. Least of all in present company. Please don't get any ideas that I'll answer them in private," Charlus said.

Harry poked him in his chest. "Who are these people?" he mumbled.

Charlus sighed and pointed to the brown-haired woman. "This woman here is your stepmother, Cordelia. That old, stupid swine sitting on the sofa quiet as a mouse is your grandfather, Fleamont."

He pointed to a man and woman off to the side. That was when Harry noticed them. The man was beefy with wavy, black hair and gray eyes. He was broad with a thick neck and wide body. The woman was slender and blonde with heavy-lidded, green eyes.

Harry turned to Charlus. "Uhh…"

"Oh, yeah. That's Taurus and his wife, Stephanie. Formally Rosier. Everyone, this is Harry. James. Potter."

"Oh. Hello," Harry said to the room.

His eyes lingered on Maynard, but, in the end, didn't question why Charlus didn't introduce him or the people beside him.

Maynard, however, cleared his throat. He looked at Taurus then asked, "Well, boy, how is it that you've come to know Barty Crouch?"

Harry stared at Charlus, who looked to the ceiling. Sirius' grin stretched further and further as the seconds went by.

"Harry," James called. "I don't know what Charlus allows in his house – "

Charlus stiffened and lowered his face.

"But when you're around me, you're to show respect to everyone."

"Did that make you feel like a man?" Charlus asked. "Did you feel your stones drop a little bit?"

Taurus made a noise in the corner. Harry looked at him and he didn't attempt to mask his amusement.

"Charlus demands dignity and discernment in his house. To begin, Maynard is a stranger to Harry. Harry was told not to speak to strangers. This stranger wouldn't allow him a seat at his table therefore he isn't owed an answer," Charlus drawled. "Furthermore, Maynard failed to address him by his name. I will never encourage respect in the face of disrespect."

Sirius cleared his throat. "How was your camping trip…Harry. James. Potter?"

Harry shook his head then sighed. "It was fine. He didn't let me hunt, though, and I like to shower now, so that wasn't fun."

"You're too young to hunt," Sirius said.

"I learned how to fish," Harry said, "and I think I can take one apart to cook."

Sirius scrunched his face and Charlus made a noise of disgust.

"That is disgusting," Charlus said. "Obviously, I didn't raise you well enough. Such barbarism won't be tolerated in Charlus' house."

Harry leaned back. "You cut off the head then you stick your hand in and pull out – "

Harry's mouth continued to move until he realized he made no sound. He pouted up at Charlus, who smirked down at him. Sirius laughed in the corner.

Someone cleared their throat. "You know…Maynard posed a good question," Taurus said as he walked over to stand behind the sofa Maynard sat in.

He was huge; Charlus' size with more height.

"It took this long for Stephanie to needle you? You're losing your touch, Rosier," Sirius said.

Taurus ignored him. "How do you know Barty Crouch, Harry. James. Potter?"

Harry, again, looked at Charlus, who looked up at his son with distaste.

Sirius waved his wand as he mouthed 'answer him.'

Harry shrugged. "My nanny. Miss Jones? She knows him and he would speak to her when we were in the park, so he learned my name."

"Miss Jones?" Stephanie said. "The governess Narcissa and Camille wanted for Draco and Diomedes?" She narrowed her eyes at her father-in-law. "They refused to match the offer." To Taurus, she said, "It was a lot. Too much for a – uhh…"

"Half-blood?" Sirius supplied.

Taurus cleared his throat and stared Charlus down.

"Yes?" Charlus said. "How may I help you, son?" He leaned back. "Do you feel like a man? Do you feel as big as your cousin did five minutes ago?"

Taurus twitched.

"Tell me he's not your cousin, so I can ask you why you are concerned about what a Potter does with his money."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "He's not a Potter?"

"He is," Sirius said softly.

Harry started and wondered if Sirius had jumped over.

"But he desperately wants to be a Black. Pity given Bartemius Crouch is about to have you in the playrooms of all the children of his dignitary friends." He stepped back then spoke up. "And also, to be clear, Harry is Crouch's guest. The rest of you leave when you intended."

Charlus pointed at Sirius. "Yes, yes, yes. Yes, he does. Excellent thinking."

"It's sickening seeing you united," Fleamont said.

"Wait until your wife and I join forces in front of you. You'll take to your bed then," Charlus said. "He leaves here alone."

And he did.

Stephanie and Cordelia attempted to needle James and Taurus, but Sirius and Charlus weren't moved. Cordelia even looked to Maynard and Fleamont.

"I'm a grown man with my own fortune and home. I didn't bow to the Blacks when I was a frightened man of five and twenty and I'll fuck up your grandfather today," Charlus announced.

When Mr. Crouch came up collect him, Charlus walked him to the door and blocked the exit.

"Enjoy your afternoon," Charlus said as Mr. Crouch laughed.

A slender woman with big, straw-colored hair looked at him in surprise. "Bartemius?"

Mr. Crouch looked at her then looked down at Harry. "Sarah, this is Harry and I'm sure you remember Charlus? Harry, this is my wife, Sarah."

Harry waved. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Crouch."

Mrs. Crouch smiled at Harry then turned to Charlus to greet him.

"Try to enjoy yourself," Charlus said to Harry. "Remember to smile."

Harry made a face. "Enjoy Maynard and your old cousin. Don't forget to smile."

"Go to hell, you little brat," Charlus said before shutting the door.

Harry looked at Mr. Crouch. "What did I say?"

Mr. Crouch smirked at him.

The trio moved to the elevator. Mrs. Crouch didn't say much as Harry interrogated Mr. Crouch on information about 'Maynard.' Apparently, his name was Yaxley and he was Head of International Magical Cooperation.

"Oh, so they are coming?"

"Most likely," Mr. Crouch said.

Harry frowned. "So why's it matter I left with you alone and not as a group?"

"Because no one cares about Maynard Yaxley outside Britain."

Harry's frown slowly became a grin. In turn, Mr. Crouch brought himself up to his full height to tower over Harry. Harry just giggled.

"Ask it. I dare you," Mr. Crouch said.

Harry licked his lip, but, in the end, rephrased his question. "How come you have friends outside Britain?"

Mr. Crouch stepped back. "Because I have better access to them. International Magical Cooperation has no prestige. That honor goes to Council members. The only people above me in Britain are Dumbledore and Bagnold, but I have free reign in the Ministry."

Their conversation was brought to a close when others joined them in the elevator. Harry still had a number of questions about Maynard, though. Chief among them was who did Maynard have access to, to make Fleamont marry James to his granddaughter.

The question fell to the wayside when they entered a grand ball room. It was packed with witches, wizards, and a few of their children. All of them were well dressed.

Harry felt a wave of magic wash over him. "What's that?"

"Translation Charm," Mr. Crouch said. "So you make speak whatever language you want and everyone will understand you."

Mr. Crouch dragged them through the throng, introducing him to people. Per usual, most were amused by his name.

"You look like Henry," Basilius Greengrass said. He was a thin, very old man with dark eyes and white hair that framed his face. "And I mean as a child. Identical to the boy I met in Charms. How…strange these Potter genes are."

He held out a hand then introduced Harry to his grandchildren.

Everything went fine. Up until his last ten minutes in the room.

Harry, who had grown very bored, had taken to staring at everything and yet nothing in particular. That was until his eyes locked with a set of blue ones.

Albus Dumbledore held his gaze. Harry, uncertain as to what he was supposed to do, maintained their eye contact. When Mr. Ogden, a Wizengamot warlock Harry had only spoken to minutes before, stepped into his line of vision, Harry exhaled.

"Thank you."

Mr. Ogden raised his eyebrows then turned to Mr. Crouch, who was looking between them. He stepped closer to Mr. Crouch, putting Harry in Dumbledore's direct line of vision once more.

However, Harry turned away from all three, intent on walking out of sight. As he did so, someone rammed right into his shoulder and Harry hit the floor.

"Ow!"

"Watch where you're going, Potter."

Harry looked up and into face of a handsome boy of about nine or ten. He had golden, wavy hair and cold, ice blue eyes. There was a flush to his face and a smile on his lips.

There was also a chain connecting his shoulder to Harry's. It was a golden chain made up of light. Harry watched as it crumbled; broke into pieces and those pieces disappeared when they hit the floor.

"What the hell was that?" Mr. Crouch said.

Note: Three more chapters in part one and I'll probably post them in the next few days just to get it over with.

Thanks for reading!