So, I wonder, how many people thought that the cavalcade of negative reviews on the original version of Scathach's second chapter had me run away. Well, to quote a certain character, "Run away? Who's running? Running where?...

...ШĦƔ ШØЏĿÐ Į ЯЏŊ?!"

Now that I've gotten some of the anger and the meme off my chest, allow me to elucidate.

I knew that the second chapter of the original version of Scathach would be controversial, but for different reasons to the near-absolute shitstorm that followed. I had thought Harry would be called out on being too harsh and antagonistic towards Lily. Instead, I get pilloried for Lily being neglectful and Harry's rant being apparently justified, and Alpha supposedly guilted Harry into coming back. The former criticism was, I will admit, a relatively valid one from some viewpoints, but Alpha wasn't trying to guilt Harry deliberately, so that argument was full of shit.

However, criticism, whether it be valid or not, well-intentioned or not, is too often a creativity killer, and despite an attempt to revise Scathach's second chapter to make it less controversial...I realised it was dead. Just as dead as (almost) anything hit by the Gae Bolg.

But spite and anger can be surprisingly motivating.

After considerable thought, and a dark ritual to summon the spirit of Truck-kun (cranberry juice is so hard to get out of carpet), I had an answer, one that would help cut down on certain elements that caused problems before. I still had to jump through a LOT of hoops to get this to work...but I think this will turn out to be a better work.

So, here it is. The first chapter of the new Scathach.

SCATHACH (REVISED)

CHAPTER 1:

FAMILY REUNION

The warmth was all-pervasive. Had she been capable of coherent thought in her current state, she would have compared it to what could have been the primal warmth of the womb. It was certainly a far more comfortable state than the one she had suffered before now, of constant, unceasing agony, her body warped and bloated and shifting beyond all recognition.

At times, she dreamed. Of her once-happy childhood. The friendship she had with another of her people. And then, the dreams took an unhappy turn, with the death of her mother. The signs of Demon Possession on her flesh, and that of her friend. Her being forced into exile by those she once thought to be trustworthy. Capture by bandits, who wished to sell her, though to where, she did not know, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

And yet, in the depths of her agony and despair, even as her body had warped beyond all recognition, a small glimmer of hope had come. Someone in a hooded cloak had come, and wiped out the bandits. That someone came across her, and for a moment, she thought they were about to attack.

And then, something else happened, as emerald eyes met her own. It felt like her very life had flashed before her eyes, and yet, she somehow knew this wasn't the prelude to death. The presence was gentle, maternal even, a warmth she hadn't felt for an age.

She knew she was safe.

This eternity of dreaming receded, and she felt the warmth draining away. She was suddenly tipped out of the warm womb she had been, and began hacking up the warmth. It took her too long to realise she had arms and legs again, that her body had been restored to normal. Instead, she lay there, hacking up liquid like a landed fish, spasming and twitching as her lungs acclimatised to breathing too-cold air again.

But she was bundled into something warm. "It's okay," said a girl's voice. Despite sounding about her age, the voice held all the warmth of a mother. "It's okay. I have you. You're safe, more or less. You can hear me? Don't try to speak for now, just nod."

She nodded her head. "You'll be fine in just a moment. I put you into what is basically an improvised life-support chamber until I could fix that. Breathing liquid is a bitch, though, at least when it comes to the transitions. In any case, welcome back to the world, Esther(1)."

Esther…a name she hadn't been called for an age. But also the name of the girl who was cruelly exiled from her home. Still, her eyes flickered open, only to squeeze shut. Too bright! Eventually, though, she rasped, "How…do you know…that name?"

"Legilimency. Short version? When I saw you in that cage, I…ended up reading your mind. I did the same thing to that bandit leader…only, that monster was no bandit at all. A royal guard, turned cultist…people like him make me sick. I'm not sure whether the Death Eaters are worse than the Cult of Diablos. But never mind about that. When I saw your past…I thought nobody deserved that. We'll look for your friend Elizabeth(2), but later. Anyway, let's get you clothed. This'll do for now. Don't freak out when you feel something on your body."

The girl shivered when she felt something warm, like living tar, envelop her body from the waist down. And yet, once it was finished, she felt comfortable in it, like it was a second skin. "What is this?"

"A special bodysuit derived from a local slime monster. Protects against injury, can be morphed into any shape, and it can be a handy concealed weapon. I used it on those bandits. I've set it to a default defensive state for now, no concealed weapons for you. Anyway, congratulations, you're the first person on this world, that I know of, to be cured of so-called 'Demon Possession'. How are you feeling?"

"…Great. Better than great," she said, opening her eyes and finally beholding her saviour, a girl about her age with black hair and crimson eyes. But those eyes seemed old, too old, the eyes of a mother. "How did you cure me?"

"…It's a rather complicated process, though I think I can simplify it when we find your friend. She was showing the first signs of 'Possession' too. From what I can gather, it seemed to be both an excess of magical energy combined with some sort of foreign cell. I've kept samples. Long story short, I managed to fix that. And if I did it correctly, you won't have to worry about that again. Anyway, introductions are in order. I'm Belladonna Kagenou, witch, researcher, and royally angry towards the Cult of Diablos. And you're…"

"Don't call me Esther," she said to her saviour. She cringed inwardly at interrupting her saviour, but she needed to make the point. "I…I don't want to be called that name anymore. Please."

"Huh? Okay, well, what name do you want to be called?"

The girl formerly known as Esther considered it, her thoughts too old for her mere ten years of age, much like the eyes of her saviour. "If I am the first to be cured…there's a letter from an ancient tongue. The first letter of that tongue. I…I wish to be known as Alpha…"

In a way, Harry Potter was grateful when he was shaken awake, gently but urgently. His dreams had been fairly unpleasant, a replay of the row he had gotten into with his father and his twin. Not that he viewed them as family anymore. The Tonks family had proven to be more of his family than those two. But the dream had warped and twisted into his few friends denouncing as Voldemort reborn, just as James and Charles did, and even his mother, now a rotting revenant, coming back from the grave and dragging him into Hell.

Of course, the whole lead-up to the Quidditch World Cup gave him more than a little unease. He felt like he was being watched at the campsite. He was probably being paranoid, but after his expulsion, all for the crime of saving Buckbeak, he wasn't in the best of moods, and hadn't been for the best part of two months now. Even the Tonks' attempts to give him support only went so far. They did their best, Andromeda, Ted, 'Don't Call Me Nymphadora', but there was only so much they could do, even after they gained custody of him.

He wasn't sure exactly why Dumbledore helped them do so. The old man seemed to take a hands-off attitude to a lot of things normally, and yet, at the end of Harry's first year, Dumbledore had had a blazing row with James Potter. What about, Harry didn't know exactly, though he suspected it had to do with how James had been treating Harry ever since he learned he was a Parselmouth….and his mother had died.

Even now, Harry only remembered flashes of what happened. The row at Regent's Park Zoo after he had talked to a snake. Harry fleeing his arguing parents as his twin brother looked smugly on. The beeping of a lorry's horn. The screech of brakes. The sudden sensation of being thrown through the air…but not by a lorry hitting him at speed.

No…it was by a mother whose last act on this world was to save her child.

He remembered her broken body too vividly, though. All the blood, the broken Time-Turner, some of its sand soaking into her blood, before the instrument vanished thanks to Unspeakable protocols. The pained smile she gave him, trying to reassure him, before the light faded from her eyes.

What was meant to be one of the happiest days of his life, his eleventh birthday, had turned into his worst. And as far as his brother and father were concerned (as did Snape when Harry finally met the odious man), it was his fault. And in some parts of his mind, Harry agreed. It took the Tonks, his friends, as well as the teachers of Hogwarts, too long to alleviate this guilt. And then, there was only so much they could do.

Still, he had a happy enough home with the Tonks family. And after his expulsion, they'd consoled him, and they even bought tickets to the Quidditch World Cup to help him cheer up, as a birthday present. And while that meant an unfortunate run-in with his ex-family, he'd enjoyed watching the match between Bulgaria and Ireland. For all that he was cheering on the Irish to win, he enjoyed watching Krum's use of the Wronski Feint.

He'd gone to sleep, trying to shut out the noise of the drunken revellers outside. But now, here he was, being woken up. And he knew something was wrong.

He blinked as he recognised the concerned features of Nymphadora in the dim light, her hair shifting between different colours. And then, he heard the noises outside their tent. "…Dora?" he asked.

"Harry, you need to find shelter, away from here. There's some woodland nearby."

"What do you mean?"

"So-called former Death Eaters are having a drunken riot, fucking around with the Muggle caretakers and blowing up tents. Mum and Dad have already gone to stop them, and I guess I'm back on duty," she said. "Harry, make for the woods. Don't stop running until you're well in. We'll come for you, okay? If you see your friends, bring them with you."

Harry nodded, before he headed out of the tent. Panicking people everywhere, hooded and masked wizards, no doubt Death Eaters (or at least wannabes), laughing as they levitated a Muggle family over sixty feet into the air. They were also firing spells at the tents, setting them on fire or blowing them up.

A surge of anger flushed through his veins. Harry wanted nothing more than to fight them, to save those poor Muggles, to put an end to these bastards who were still free when they'd faked being brainwashed by Voldemort. But for now, there were plenty of other wizards trying to stop them.

Besides, where did heroism ever get him?

He was about to make for the woods as instructed, only for a stray spell to explode near him, and send him flying. He must've blacked out, because the next thing he knew, a masked Death Eater was standing over him, a wand pointed at him. Harry was dazed, unable to move much.

"Here you are, you interfering brat," sneered a too-familiar voice, the voice of Walden Macnair. "I was going to kill that damned Hippogriff…but I guess I'll be glad to take your life instead. Harry Potter, trampled by a panicking mob. How does that sound?"

Before Harry could retort or even try to defend himself, though, a sword seemed to sprout from the man's chest, spraying blood all over Harry's face. And then, a hooded and cloaked figure behind him said, in the voice of a girl about his age, "It sounds atrocious. But what can I expect from an inbred pustule who gets off on hurting the powerless?" The blade was yanked from Macnair's chest, and as the Death Eater turned, his rescuer said, "Here's a better one. Walden Macnair died losing his head." A flash of light heralded Macnair's head flying off his body, borne aloft by a fountain of blood.

Harry stared at his saviour, her face invisible behind her hood. Some sort of Privacy Charm or something? He knew the Unspeakables could conceal their faces if need be, something his mother let slip. He got the impression she was staring at him, though. Even as his vision swam, he couldn't help but stare in horror…and not a little relief, even joy, seeing Macnair die. He was looking all too pleased at the prospect of executing Buckbeak, and he was going to kill him too.

The figure gently kneeled down in front of him, and waved a hand, casting a spell. "…Concussion," she said. "Dammit, where's Andy? I was told by Saul that she was looking after you, and…never mind. Stay there for now, Harry. I need to finish up." She then yelled, "DELTA! THE CIVILIANS IN THE AIR! FETCH! ALPHA, BETA! CLEAN UP THE TRASH IN THE NAME OF DUN SCAITH!"

The lupine howl that answered her heralded a dark shape leaping into the air and grabbing the poor Muggle family out of the air. Harry stared, wondering if his concussed mind had hallucinated someone leaping sixty feet up, and not once, but twice in quick succession, each time grabbing two of the Muggles, landing near his saviour.

After she laid the Muggles down on the ground, the hooded figure (no cloak, so her rather buxom figure was on display) asked, in a raucous, rasping voice, again of a girl about his age, "Can Delta hunt now, Boss?"

After a moment, his saviour said, "Only the ones with masks like this one." She indicated Macnair's head.

A rasping chuckle came from the one called 'Delta', and she charged in. Harry only consciously realised now that he could hear screams of pain, the whipcrack noises of Apparition, and the like coming from the Death Eaters. But his vision, indeed, every one of his senses were fading, unconsciousness eating away at him.

The last thing he saw and heard before everything went black was his saviour gently kneeling down next to him. "Don't worry," she said, her tones familiar somehow, even if her voice was not. "I won't let them tear us apart ever again…"

When he came back to consciousness, he was back in the tent, listening to an argument. "…See what the problem is, Crouch. Harry was concussed, his memory of these events scrambled," Andromeda Tonks said. "Saul even looked through those memories for you. He only caught glimpses of Dun Scaith, he was nearly murdered by Macnair, and he certainly did not see who cast the Dark Mark."

The harsh tones of what had to be Barty Crouch Senior rang out. "I'll be the judge of that."

"You're no longer the head of the DMLE, Crouch, and given how you nearly sent my cousin to Azkaban without even a token kangaroo court, even with the Potters giving evidence, not to mention what you did to your own son…you're an overzealous dried-up turd in a suit(3), and you shouldn't have even been shuffled sideways into International Magical Cooperation. Even being promoted sideways is too good for you."

"That's rich coming from a Black. Once a Black, always a Black. Bellatrix was a murderous lunatic whore, and Narcissa is an accomplice to that husband of hers. You're yet another snake in the grass like your whole misbegotten line."

Then, the rasping tones of Saul Croaker rang out, Harry having met him on occasion both before and after his mother's death. "And you are an overzealous fanatic and a hypocrite, detesting the Dark Arts, and yet authorising Aurors to use the Unforgivables against Voldemort. Lethal force is one thing, I can understand that, but mind-control, torture? The only difference between you and your son is that you never once showed any remorse, genuine or not."

An indrawn hiss of breath, before Crouch snarled, "Slanderous scum. I think I will have Umbridge perform a surprise inspection of the Department of Mysteries. Let's see if you spout such calumny then. I would say good day to you, but that would be a lie."

Soon after Crouch left, Andromeda said, "Harry, it's safe to open your eyes now. I could tell you regained consciousness. Breathing patterns are very distinctive."

Harry opened his eyes, and sat up gingerly. Andromeda, Nymphadora, and Croaker were there. "Where's Ted?" Harry asked. "Oh, and the Muggles, the Roberts, are they all right?"

"Ted's all right, he's helping with the wounded," Andromeda said. "And the Roberts family are fine, even if the patriarch's a bit befuddled from the multiple Obliviations he underwent." The woman shook her head. "Christ, what a clusterfuck. In any case, I'm bringing you home. Dora's still off-duty, so she'll be coming with you. I've got to head back here to check on the others."

"…My concussion is gone?" Harry asked.

Andromeda nodded. "It wasn't that bad, thankfully, a special healing spell and a potion spelled into your gullet cured it. I've seen worse concussions on Quidditch players, like that punch-drunk idiot Bagman. Croaker will be going home with you."

"Why?" Harry asked. "And that girl in black…no, those girls…the ones who saved me…"

"Right, Scathach and Dun Scaith, they called themselves, all dramatic-like," Nymphadora said. "They saved the Roberts and you, but they really went to town on the Death Eaters. Apparently Fudge is on the warpath, and if you overheard that, so's Barty Crouch, wanting the Aurors to track down the murderers of so-called 'innocent, upstanding Purebloods'. They buggered off not long after the Death Eaters did."

"…Macnair was going to kill me," Harry said quietly, shuddering. "In revenge for freeing Buckbeak."

"We know, Harry," Croaker said gently. "Let's get you back home. Then, explanations can follow…"

Although Andromeda had been banished from the Black family, Sirius becoming friend of the family ensured that he was able to restore her, and she, along with her family, were now situated in one of the less grim Black properties. It was here that Harry now made his home. It was a fairly stately home, perhaps a bit darker and macabre than Potter Manor…but it felt more like home than that place became.

Yet the moment they walked in the foyer, Harry knew something was wrong. Because there were a quartet of figures who didn't belong. Girls, all about his age, in figure-hugging black suits with gold highlights. Harry tensed, though he realised that Andromeda and Nymphadora were wary, but otherwise not on guard, while Croaker seemed absolutely at ease.

"Everything all right?" asked one of the girls, who had burgundy-coloured hair and crimson eyes. He recognised the name of the one who saved him.

Croaker scoffed. "Crouch seemed to think Harry knew more than he did. Then again, he's had a vendetta against James Potter for years, never mind Sirius Black. Stupid bastard thinks he's still head of the DMLE. He even dismissed his House-Elf for supposedly casting the Dark Mark with young Ronald Weasley's wand." Then, to Harry's shock, Croaker walked forward, and gently hugged the young woman. "…It's good to have you back," he said, with unmistakeable paternal warmth in his voice.

"…It's good to be back, Croaker," the girl said, smiling as well.

"…Okay, what's going on?" Harry asked. "Who is this girl? How do you know her, Croaker?"

"Harry," Andromeda said quietly. As he turned to face her, she said, "When she shows you who she is…I promise you, it's her. It really is her. She's told me things that only a very few people would know, and Croaker has vouched for her too. He wouldn't dare do so otherwise."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, before his attention was drawn to the girl walking towards him.

Only, she began to change. Her body grew taller, her figure, still clad in the skintight black bodysuit, filled out more. Her hair lightened in colour, changing from the darker burgundy colour to a more familiar bright red, while her crimson eyes became emerald…just like his own. Her face changed, and instead of appearing to be in her mid-teens, she was now in her late twenties.

It was impossible. An impossible face, the face of a dead woman. And yet, here she was, standing in front of him, smiling sadly.

"Hello, Harry," someone wearing the face of Lily Potter said in her voice. "I'm back…"

CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:

Whaaaaat?!

So, for those of you with any familiarity with the original story's initial chapters in the Cauldron, you'll notice a lot of changes. Lily, instead of being ordered by the Unspeakables to go to the Eminence of Shadow world, has had a date with Truck-kun. And before you say, "Oh, she could have used magic to get Harry away from the truck," leaving aside the Statute of Secrecy, she was a mother, fresh off a VERY acrimonious and stressful argument with her husband, possibly influenced by outside forces, panicking because her son was about to get run over in his own oblivious flight, and only barely pushed him away in time.

I also decided to add a time-travel element. Her body didn't travel back in time, but her soul did, courtesy of the broken Time-Turner interacting with her magic. And yes, I am aware, thanks to the wiki for The Eminence in Shadow, that in canon, time passes five times more quickly in that world than it does on Earth. But this is not The Eminence in Shadow canon. She had been searching for a way back home, and only found it very recently, thus cutting out a possible criticism for Lily in the original.

So, what does Lily look like as 'Scathach'? Well, I was thinking a bit like a younger Claire Kagenou (Claire having a younger sister rather than Cid as a younger brother), but I realised the dark hair and crimson eyes reminded me of another character. Serendipitously, I decided that 'Scathach', aka Belladonna Kagenou, looks like the Nasuverse version of Scathach, but as a teenager. She even has a similar bodysuit. I chose 'Rose' initially, before remembering that, not only did I use 'Belladonna' in the flashback (D'oh!), but there was Rose Oriana, and while that could have led to some humorous scenes of confusion, well…

And Shadow Garden is now known as 'Dun Scaith', aka Scathach's famous kingdom.

Now, I was wondering about a theme for Dun Scaith and Scathach. I'm actually torn between a few pieces of music. There's Magus' battle theme from Chrono Trigger, and then there's A Dramatic Irony, a remixed version of Vivaldi's Winter and Summer used for the character trailer for Kafka from Honkai: Star Rail. I can see Lily, in her more chuuni moments, using some of Kafka's lines, like "The silk's too fragile to be a threat…unless you're more fragile than the silk!"

1. I debated with myself long and hard what name to give Alpha, especially as her canon birthname hasn't been given. As 'Sarah' and 'Lilim' (Delta and Zeta respectively) are names of Hebrew origin, I decided to use those. I debated with myself what name to give Alpha, before deciding on 'Esther', which, while seemingly similar to 'Estella' or 'star', is also said to come from Hebrew letters 'to remain hidden'. Fitting for a Shadow, no?

2. For Beta, I chose Elizabeth, because Elizabeth is the long version of 'Betty', which is not far from 'Beta'.

3. Andromeda's insult towards Crouch is one I've used before, and was taken from Liquid possessed by Big Boss' ghost's insult towards Colonel Campbell in the Metal Gear Solid parody webcomic The Last Days of FoxHOUND. Strip 215, if you want to know.