Disclaimer: I am not, nor do I claim to be, affiliated with J. K. Rowling, nor do I claim to own any of her characters or the Harry Potter intellectual property.
Chapter 1 - And then they were one
"Look Harry, I'm going to be straightforward with you. Bad news, you've currently got four souls within your body. Good news, I have a plan to fix that."
It was morning of the 24th of June and Harry was, like many times before, locked in his cubby under the stairs. Only today he woke up with a voice in his head.
"What? I thought you were like just a voice in my head, I mean you appeared the day after uncle Vernon knocked me about pretty hard. Also FOUR?!" Harry spoke quietly.
"Look, I could explain everything to you now, but that would be a major waste of time. See the fix I was talking about, it's basically us empowering your soul to the point where you absorb me and my memories. Hopefully it's also going to lead to you absorbing the memories of our respective parasites."
Harry tried to remain calm. Honestly he was far calmer than a normal ten-year-old should be. But there was a reason his relatives called him a freak. All the magical stuff that kept happening around him has conditioned him to accept the weirdest things as just another thing that happened to him.
"Parasites…like soul parasites?" He questioned.
"Eh, kinda. Let me give you a very quick overview, again all questions you may have are going to be a waste of time once you have my memories. There's you, Harry James Potter, heir apparent to the Noble and Ancient house of Potter as well as heir presumptive to the Noble and Ancient house of Black. Then there's me, called Heretic Scribe by my peers, Thief of the magical Lore and Paths, dubbed Carcer Aeternus Infiniti Hominis. Then there are our respective parasites. First, a shard of the soul of one Tom Marvolo Riddle, Heir apparent to the magical house of Gaunt, better known to the magical community as the Dark Lord Voldemort, for you personally, he is the man who murdered your parents. The shard has been there since that night. Last but not least, the incarcerated soul of the Infinite Man, an ancient wizard who went by so many names the first has been lost even to Scribes and Archivists of Lore. What is known is that he has been cursed, by the literal gods of his original story, to upon his death be bound to the soul of another similarly minded man, which he eventually subsumes. Since his world has been effectively ended, humanity destroyed, abandoned by gods etc., etc. The Archivists were tasked with ending his curse or otherwise keeping him contained, never to be unleashed upon another world. Unfortunately, I in my… let's say quest for knowledge, have stumbled upon him. He isn't conscious as such, but he still eats away at my…our souls, eventually devouring us. Doesn't help that the Archivists would probably solve this by sealing us both to stop him from escaping."
Harry tried to sort through his thoughts for a while before giving up and vocalising his frustration.
"I have SO many questions right now." he finally decided to voice.
"I know. Trust me, if I was to explain more, you'd only have more questions. Best to only explain what you need to know before the ritual." the voice replied with some remorse.
"Ritual? Is that the fix?"
"Yes, it is."
"Ok, how is that going to work?"
The voice sighed before launching into another explanation.
"Basically, it is a part of the curse the Infinite Man is afflicted with. Only that one is built to empower the oldest soul at the expense of all others. The one I have in mind is going to empower the youngest of us, you the most, I am about twice your age, so I get about 2% of my personality preserved in you, Tom being around 60 to 70 or so gets between 0.002% to 0.0004% of his personality preserved in you, or that would be the case if we were dealing with his entire soul, were dealing with only a fraction of it, realistically it's going to be even less. As for the Infinite man he's somewhere in the tens of millenia old. Going with the most conservative estimate of 10000 years old I think he should only have around 10^770% that's zero point followed by over seven hundred zeroes. Or at least that's how it should be, Arithmancy can be a little finicky when dealing with large numbers."
Harry wasn't dumb, in fact he was quite intelligent. But being unable to study due to being stuck in his cupboard combined with him being only ten, the more complicated math flew over his head. And that's without mentioning his lack of Arithmancy knowledge.
"That is to say, his soul is going to get obliterated" the voice continued "but if we do the ritual just right we might be able to keep some of his knowledge."
It was then that Harry recalled a piece of information. He was unsure whether he learned it at school or heard it from the TV when it was accidentally left on a documentary. Aptly enough he couldn't remember.
"Isn't there only so much a human brain can remember?"
"You would think so, but that is only true for non magical humans. With you being a wizard your memories are also stored within your magic and your soul. It's why in wizard society reading someone's thoughts is such a big deal, you're looking directly into their soul. And that's not even speaking of altering someone's memory. But we've gone off topic. Empowering your soul should grant you something akin to eidetic memory."
Harry was unfamiliar with the term and the voice in his head (or should he now call him Scribe? Heretic?) seemed to notice it.
"Do you have any questions?"
"Quite a few. But I guess most of them are pointless if I'm going to know anyway after the ritual." Harry resigned.
"A logical assumption."
"Then is there anything you can tell me now that will prepare me for the ritual?" he asked with quite a bit of enthusiasm.
"A few things. First is the date, it would be most optimal to perform the ritual on your 11th birthday. It will provide the ritual with more stability as well as provide you with more protection."
"Ok, that's a little over a month from now. It's the 24th of June; my birthday is on the 31st of July."
"Alright, next thing, we'll need to prepare a few things and ideally have them on our person at all times. My memories of this world's future path are unreliable considering the future branches out infinitely and I've already altered your path by being in your head, but it is safe to assume that there will be interference. If your aunt and uncle hate magic quite as much as yesterday's beating might suggest I wouldn't be surprised if they somehow interfered once you get your Hogwarts letter."
"My what?" Harry interrupted with confusion.
"Ah… your letter of acceptance to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The principal is the one who brought you here after the night your parents were killed on the 31st of October 1981."
"What? Why?!" Harry exclaimed.
"Against the wishes of your parents and for his own purposes. I am not entirely sure what those are, but sufficient to say the phrase 'For the greater good.' was used excessively by him. As the saying goes 'The path to hell is paved with good intentions'."
"Except it's me he's sent to walk down that path." said Harry with more venom in his voice than he ever used before; to the surprise of both Scribe and himself.
"Sorry, I don't know what came over me."
"Don't apologise, I happen to agree with you. I simply didn't expect you to feel so strongly about this." Scribe explained his surprise.
"Scribe, I am abused daily. If this is even in part the fault of some wizard, who could have easily prevented it from happening? I have a feeling I'm not going to like him."
"Fair enough. Now, back to the ritual. We will need anchor points for it. We need 11 anchors representing you, stuff like fingernails, hair and such. Blood would do in a pinch but it would also be a representation of your bloodline, so I'd prefer we avoid that."
"I can cut my hair and keep it for the ritual. My hair always grows back to how it was overnight anyway."
"Good, that will work. Next we need 7 anchors representing memory and 7 anchors representing magic."
"Ok, any examples of what would work?"
"This stuff is incredibly symbolic. For example with memory, something like an animal part from a creature considered wise."
"Like an owl?"
"Owl feathers? That… that could work. Do you think you can get any?"
"Don't know. I can think of some alternatives and see what opportunities present themselves."
"A good approach."
"And what about magic? I have no idea what would represent magic."
"I'll admit that will be hard, normally you would use the same materials you'd use for a magical focus. Unfortunately I cannot see us finding unicorn hair or phoenix feathers in the middle of Little Whinging, let alone something like a dragon heartstring. We might have to go the route of Celtic druids and use something abundant like wood from an old oak tree or some such thing."
"So I have to get a bunch of branches?"
"Well, no… you'd likely have to get the heartwood, that's the middle part of the trunk. But if you find a suitable tree we can probably get that. I'll have to show you how to draw a ritual circle to do that, but runic magic is easier than teaching you word-magic or getting a wand to teach you wand-magic."
"Ok, so… anything else?"
"Some chalk or charcoal? Hell a bag of flour would do in a pinch if it wasn't too windy. We'll need something to draw the ritual circles with. Though that should be the easiest thing to get."
"Except for the fact that I'm locked up in here and there is little I can do about that."
"Do you realise you're a wizard Harry? I can teach you how to draw non-permanent circles that do simple things like lock and unlock things. There's little your relatives can do to keep you locked in here without having someone with magic help them."
"And there's no way they would do that even if they could."
"Quite."
The timing couldn't be better as both minds heard the heavy footsteps of the Dursley patriarch.
=O=O=O=
The morning of that day went about as well as Harry expected. Vernon opened his cupboard only to punish him for not already having breakfast prepared, despite Harry's inability to do so. Luckily he only slapped him to the point where Harry could then cook the breakfast.
Scribe only spoke to him sparingly. Just enough to assure Harry he didn't only dream of their conversation that morning. Though he did start explaining some of the simple runic rituals for when they would have to leave the house to look for the anchors.
Harry did his best to retain the information given to him. He was still a little sceptical about this being real. So far everything was inside his head. Though actually using magic would solidify this as real.
As soon as Harry finished making breakfast he was once again thrown back into his cupboard. Without getting to eat any of it of course. The Dursleys then talked about spending the Sunday out, "making it up to little Duddykins for yesterday".
To Harry that would normally mean he went hungry all day as the Dursleys were sure to eat out. They have done so a few times before as a punishment. Of course they made sure to leave him with Mrs. Figg often enough for the neighbours to think that was the case whenever they went anywhere without Harry.
This time around though, Harry could sneak out of the cupboard at least and perhaps get some food for himself. Provided what Scribe was teaching him was real of course. Though it was probably a bad idea to go outside in the broad daylight as the neighbours could mention it to the Dursleys. Actually they were incredibly likely to do so, what with the Dursleys continued attempts to portray Harry as some kind of delinquent.
"There's plenty we can do today in preparation for our nighttime outings."
Harry just nodded. He wasn't sure if Scribe could hear his thoughts, but he was pretty sure the Dursleys would hear him talking to himself. Not that they could lock him up much more than they already have, but Harry would like to avoid making himself look any more freakish, lest Vernon decide to beat it out of him. And so Harry waited patiently and quietly for his relatives to leave. Though he did some prep in that he found a short stub of a pencil that he kept in his cupboard (one of his few possessions) to draw the runes with later.
When they finally left, Harry started to draw the unfamiliar symbols onto the cupboard door. It was quite difficult, what with the lack of light and just overall making little sense to Harry. Scribe assured him that little inaccuracies just meant he had to use more magic to power it, though with Harry being a child it was safer to be as accurate as possible in order to preserve his strength.
When Scribe finally decided that it was good enough the symbols formed a loose circle, half on the door and another half on the wall. He then instructed Harry to put his middle and index finger in the middle of the two half circles. It took a while to explain to Harry how to channel his magic into the fingers, but once he managed to do it, he found the sensation to be familiar. It felt not unlike those times when something seemingly impossible happened and saved Harry from harm. Like the time he suddenly appeared on the school roof to escape Dudley and his group of bullies.
The spell, or ritual or whatever it technically was took a while. The runes started glowing as soon as Harry channelled his magic but it took over a minute for the door latch to suddenly click open and the glowing runes to disappear. When Harry opened the door and checked the circle under better light he found it gone.
"Congratulations on your first successful and intentional piece of magic." Scribe said, mirth obvious in his voice.
"It's gone?" Harry asked with confusion and more than a little disappointed seeing as he put a lot of effort into making it.
"Well, it's a single use magic circle, you'd have to use something magical in nature or just straight up carve it into the material to make it last more than one use."
"So I have to draw it again?"
"To be fair, you'd have to erase it anyway to draw the locking one so really it's better to use single use ones for this." Scribe, noticing Harry's dejection, explained.
"Right, I'd also have to erase it anyway to hide it from the Dursleys." Harry added.
"Another reason. We should draw the locking one now. It takes a bit to activate and you want it ready for when they return."
"Right…"
=O=O=O=
Harry had a pleasant day. After drawing the locking circle, which went a lot quicker thanks to the light, he made some breakfast for himself, mostly things that couldn't be easily counted, which disqualified things like eggs. But a few ham, cheese and mayo sandwiches later his hunger was sufficiently sated and the hunt for materials began.
One of the first things Harry appropriated was a better pencil and a sharpener from Dudley's school bag. Dudley hasn't so much as touched the thing since school ended on Friday and was unlikely to notice untill Monday at school at which point it was unlikely he would think Harry did it. He would still blame him and try to beat him up for it, but he wouldn't actually search for it.
Next was a stick of white chalk from Dudley's set of colourful chalks Dudley got for his birthday a few years prior and never even opened. With that the easiest part of the big ritual was acquired.
"Okay, any idea what other materials I could potentially scrounge up around here?"
"I'll be honest, money never hurts to have. Though you have to be careful not to be found out."
Harry had never gotten an allowance but he also never stole money from his relatives. As such he was a little conflicted about doing so to acquire some. Somehow it just felt more like theft when it wasn't a pencil or chalk but money. But after giving it some thought he realised that after all they've put him through the Dursleys owed him at least that much.
"I'll check Dudley's second bedroom for some. If I'm right he'll have money stashed away that he doesn't even remember having. God this room really is a mess."
Having entered the bedroom Harry realised just how much junk Dudley owned. The whole floor was pretty much covered in toys with several larger piles of them in places. Harry went through them, careful not to change the landscape of the room too much.
In one of the piles he happened upon a metal tin piggy bank shaped like a red fire truck. Harry could remember Dudley getting it on his sixth birthday and constantly bothering aunt Petunia for coins to put in it, often throwing tantrums if he found the value of the coins given to him to be too low. The flimsy padlock had a piece of gum stuck in the keyhole, but it mattered little since Dudley probably lost the key anyway.
"Hey, could I unlock it with the unlocking ritual?"
"In theory yes, but really the lock is too small to draw the runes with any accuracy. I'll show you the deconstruction runic ritual. It only has two runes you put on each side of the object. The lock looks flimsy, so it shouldn't be too much magic to unmake."
"Ok, let's do it."
A minute later Harry was again channelling his magic. It took almost three minutes for the glowing to stop and the lock to practically jump apart. Upon opening the fire truck Harry was greeted with a small fortune of 1 pound coins with a smaller amount of 50 and 20 pence coins. In its entirety Harry now had 42 pounds and 70 pence in also appropriating one of Dudley's old leather wallets (a gift he received every year for his birthday), he retired downstairs again and made himself a light lunch.
Harry used to dream of having full access to the pantry, but after years of only being given scraps to eat he has developed a lack of appetite. Though upon Scribe's insistence he stashed away a few snacks before retiring back to his cupboard to lock himself back up before the Dursleys would arrive again. Harry then stashed the wallet under his mattress and went to have a nap.
=O=O=O=
When he woke up again it was early morning sometime around 4 am. The only way Harry could tell was because of the moonlight that streamed in from the kitchen. Either he was so tired from using his magic that his relatives didn't wake him up when they arrived or they were unusually quiet this time around.
It was a school day and on school days Harry was supposed to make breakfast before the others woke up. But unsurprisingly neither Vernon nor Petunia remembered to unlock his door.
Oh well he would just unlock it himself and feign ignorance if asked. The alternative was a beating after all, regardless of if it was his fault.
And so he got to work drawing the circle again. Under even worse conditions than last time, since this time he only had the little bit of moonlight that made it through the kitchen window and through the vent on his door. Eventually though Scribe concluded it was good enough and so Harry initiated the spell. It took him almost four minutes to unlock it this time due to the inaccuracies, but unlock it he did.
After taking a ten minute breather Harry went to have a quick breakfast before he began cooking the full English his uncle and cousin demanded. Scribe went over more runes they could use for their nighttime outings. Harry worked slowly, he had time.
=O=O=O=
The Dursleys woke up late. Well, later than usual fully intending to not give the boy the time to make breakfast. When they walked down the stairs however, Harry was already serving the last of their breakfast. Dudley was already sitting at the table, having woken up on time due to his own ravenous hunger.
"How did…" Vernon whispered in disbelief.
"Maybe my Dudders let him out to cook for him?"
Vernon frowned a little at Petunia's explanation but, with some reluctance, accepted it.
"Maybe…maybe we should let it go for now. Breakfast is cooked and we do need to go to work soon."
"Hmmm… for now." Petunia agreed.
As such Harry wasn't punished, or even questioned. But then again neither was he complimented in any way, just sent to school with barely any time to eat the leftovers from the Dursleys. Of course he didn't need to for today, but in the eyes of the Dursleys he was further punished for the freakishness at the zoo.
While Dudley rode his new bike to school, Harry barely had enough time to get to school on time on foot. But on time, albeit barely, he was and soon the classes started.
Harry took pleasure in learning new things, even if most of the teachers hated him for one reason or another. Most of those reasons were in some fashion related to something one of the Dursleys did, whether it was Dudley blaming him for things or Vernon and Petunia bad mouthing him to the teachers. But if Harry learned something, that couldn't be taken away from him. Knowledge was fascinating like that.
During one of the breaks, Harry managed to talk to his science teacher, Mr. Henderson. Mr. Henderson was one of the few teachers that actually had a fairly neutral outlook on Harry.
"Old oak trees? Why do you ask?" the teacher looked away from the stack of papers on his desk.
"I saw something on TV about old trees in a Welsh nature reserve and wondered if there were any closer to us."
"Ah, well I'm not sure about oak trees but if you're just interested in old trees, there's a fairly famous old yew tree just outside of Surrey, I think it's in Wraysbury, that's about six miles from here. It's called the Ankerwycke Yew and is around two and a half thousand years old."
"A yew tree?" asked Harry, aiming his questions more so at Scribe than Mr. Henderson. While both answered Harry only really paid attention to Scribe.
"If I recall my wandlore correctly, yew is one of the woods used to craft wands, due to its age it's likely to have magic of its own. Not to mention if a wizard is buried with a yew wand it is likely to sprout a tree. It is somewhat likely that that is the case for this one too. So yes this should work."
Scribe ended his explanation at nearly the same time so Harry only caught the end of the mundane explanation "...and remember the rest of the tree including the seeds is very poisonous, so eating the berries is not a good idea."
"Thank you, Mr. Henderson, the Ankerwycke Yew sounds interesting, I'll see if I can visit it during summer break."
"Summer break is cutting it close, we should figure out if we can get there earlier than that." Scribe supplied.
=O=O=O=
It was very early morning again and Harry was once again out of his cupboard, he wasn't locked up tonight since it was Tuesday tomorrow. That didn't mean much though except that Harry had time to scheme for a few hours before anyone woke up.
"If we want to get that yew, we'll need to get there during the night and be back by morning."
"Ok, how do we do that? Can we travel by magic?"
"Possible but unfeasible. You don't have enough magic. Wizards and witches reach their first maturity at 11 and second maturity at 17. You are not old enough by wizarding standards to use a wand at all, and rune rituals while more efficient would still take a lot of power to transport you."
"Ok, so what else can we do? We'll have to travel by bus, or maybe by bike?"
"Bike sounds reasonable. There are a few runes you can put on an object to effectively hide yourself from others."
"We can sneak out early on a Friday and be back on Saturday before anyone wakes up."
"We'll have to get a few objects enchanted then, wood would be ideal, but that's why we're going on this trip. There are a few alternatives but the simplest to get would probably be bone."
"Like a beef or pork bone? I can probably get that."
"Yes, preferably before you use it for broth. The remnants of life in the bone should be enough to power it for about a night instead of it sapping you for power. Though keep in mind as it is technically sacrificial magic it is considered dark magic in magical Britain and illegal."
"I'll have to clean it properly, don't want rotting meat to alert the Dursleys. Will I have to get rid of it afterwards?"
"No, once the life in the bone is gone it will disintegrate. We'll also have to be extra careful while carving the runes. Unlike with pencil there's no undoing it if you mess up. So let's take it slow."
"I can start on that now and use the meat shavings in the scrambled eggs together with bacon bits. I doubt Dudley is going to even notice, uncle Vernon might, but is unlikely to attribute it to me. Well he'll berate me for it but you get the point."
"Hmmm… As soon as the ritual is done I recommend you find a way to get emancipated and move out of here. I'm sure it will be fairly easy with some of the knowledge I amassed."
"Probably for the best. But ritual first, then comes everything else."
"Glad you feel that way." Scribe replied happily.
"No offence but I'd rather be the sole soul in my body. Soul parasites make for very good motivators."
=O=O=O=
It was Friday and school was about to end for the week. Most students were looking forward to their weekend activities and for once Harry wasn't an exception. He was going through all the preparations he made throughout the week. He finished the bone talisman, he had food and water for the 12 mile trip prepped inside one of Dudley's old school bags he found in the spare bedroom. Additionally he made some coffee and bottled it to help him stay awake through the night. The weather was supposed to be good and it was looking like a warm early summer night.
The moment he got back to his relatives' house he was bombarded by chores like usual. Even so, Harry was patient and worked diligently, weeding the rose bushes, hoovering the carpets and so on.
Eventually he of course got locked in his cupboard again. The moment he thought he couldn't be heard he started drawing the runic circle on his door. He took a short nap to make up for some of the sleep he would be losing that night. With Scribe's assurance that he could wake Harry up once the Dursleys went to sleep he fell into the land of dreams for a few hours.
=O=O=O=
"Harry! Wake up!"
Harry's eyes opened slowly. He didn't make much noise as he woke up. He was still wearing the same clothes he wore while doing the chores, so he didn't need to change. He just pressed his fingers on the unlocking runes and channelled his magic. It opened in less than a minute; a testament to how much better he got at drawing runes over the past few days.
He took out the bone amulet from under the mattress and channelled his magic once more activating the amulet. He slipped it in his pocket and went about getting his things. The old school bag was stashed inside the spare bedroom. Harry had to try very hard not to make any sound when he packed the things there, now though he could allow himself to be a little careless since his amulet made sure he wasn't noticed.
Dudley's new bike was parked in the garage, so Harry decided to leave through there. Going out the garage door he took the key with him. He might have had magic but the mundane solution was faster and more energy efficient. And so he began the arduous ride.
Harry has never really ridden a bike before but he found it fairly easy to keep balance and keep pedalling at a steady pace. He knew the general direction he needed to go and mostly followed the way signs where he could. Of course as he was about to leave the area lit by street lamps a problem reared its head. The way forward was pitch black.
Eventually, with Scribe's help, he found the solution. Procuring a nice round pebble on the side of the road and scratching the rune for light into it with a piece of gravel he managed to make a rudimentary magic flashlight. He just had to be careful not to drop it, else he'd probably have to scratch the rune again, this time without the added help of the streetlights.
The years of living with the Dursleys meant Harry knew how to work through pain and so he took only short breaks to have a drink. So Harry rode all the way to Wraisbury pretty much in one go, though he had to slow down in the latter parts so it took him over an hour to get there.
It took Harry finding the sign pointing him either the way of the Ankerwycke Yew or the ruins of the St. Mary priory to realise he was essentially practising witchcraft. Needless to say it earned a sensible chuckle from Harry. He wasn't religious. A "God" that let children go through what he lived through… didn't deserve to be believed in.
"Heretical witchcraft all the way." mumbled Harry, much to Scribes amusement, as he turned on the path towards the ancient tree. And soon the hollow of the two and a half millennia old tree came into view.
"Now unlike with the oakwood we talked about before we won't need true hearthwood from a yew this old, especially since the true hearthwood of really old trees is often rotted away by time."
"So we just take some wood from the inside of the hollow?"
"We'll need seven pieces of the same size. Actually ideally we'd get seven rods three inches in length and a third of an inch in diameter."
"Because three is a magical number?" Harry said, recalling some of the stories they read at school.
"Most prime numbers are. Though it's mostly the symbolism. For example 11 is a master number in arithmancy, 7 signifies luck and magic, 5 signifies change, 3 signifies stability, 2 signifies a bond, 1 signifies reality and 0 signifies void."
"So how do we get those pieces."
"Take out the chalk, I'll guide you through the runes."
=O=O=O=
Harry barely remembered how he got back to number 4 Privet Drive. The saving grace being he managed to get back a few hours before he needed to wake up and cook breakfast. Dudley's bike was back in the garage, the old school bag carelessly thrown into the spare bedroom, the bone amulet disintegrated shortly after his head hit the pillow. But under Harry's mattress there now were seven sticks of ancient yew. All he had to get now were the owl feathers.
The weekend started with Harry being incredibly tired and only got worse from there. The Dursleys noticed his cupboard was unlocked in the morning and despite Harry being asleep when they found out, took it as proof of more of his "freakishness". Needless to say it netted him punishment in the form of more housework. Saturday had him washing windows and Sunday was spent by hoovering the whole house again.
The housework however did give Harry the time to think about the last anchors. In the end Harry settled on simply taking them from the school's stuffed owl that Mr. Henderson used to teach about birds of prey. The bird was old and was missing a few feathers already so how much worse could seven more feathers missing be.
The plan for this heist was fairly simple. Make another bone amulet and activate it during lunch break at school. Then Harry would unlock the supply storeroom, pluck the feathers, and lock the door on his way out.
With summer break approaching it was unlikely Mr. Henderson would be taking the owl out anytime soon. In fact Harry wasn't going back to that school after break anyway so it would be even harder to pin the blame on him. Though Harry did feel a little bad for stealing from Mr. Henderson.
Stealing from his abusive relatives was one thing, but Mr. Henderson was one of the few adults he knew that were fair to him. Of course it wasn't like it would directly hurt him and it would go a long way to help Harry. Thus it was time for yet more preparations.
=O=O=O=
Harry was honestly quite proud of himself. The plan went off without a hitch. Sure the timing was cutting it close as it was now two days before the end of school, but he had the feathers in hand and ready for his ritual.
Seven owl feathers to anchor his memories and seven yewen rods to anchor his magic, together with his hair to signify the change in him. Then the knowledge of a rather complicated runic circle to put them in and the chalk necessary to draw it. There was now very little to do other than prepare for possible complications.
One such would be the Hogwarts letter he would likely receive in the next few days. Harry, armed with the knowledge it was coming, decided to hide it from his relatives. Luckily the task of bringing the morning post to the breakfast table was his. Once the letter came, he would activate another bone amulet and deal with it in peace.
Another problem that might arise could be any distraction on the day of his birthday. To alleviate this danger Harry was advised by Scribe to perform the ritual soon after midnight as it would give him the maximum amount of time to refamiliarise himself with his mind afterwards.
=O=O=O=
A month has passed since Harry woke up with an additional voice in his head. It was Tuesday the 24th of July. And for Harry this date would hold significance for the rest of his life.
His invitation letter to Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry arrived that morning together with the rest of the post. So Harry simply activated his bone amulet and went to the spare bedroom, unnoticed by the Dursleys. Though the fact the mailman had brought it together with the rest of the post was in itself a problem.
"So basically, normally you would write a response and hand it back to the owl that delivered the damned letter. But it would appear that someone has elected to meddle with that."
"My guess would be the headmaster of Hogwarts himself. If all you've told me about his role in my life is fact, then him meddling in my life seems most likely."
"Indeed. Well I suppose we'll include a strongly worded rebuttal in your response and deliver it through magic."
"That's an option?"
"It is. Not a commonly used one, not since the celtic druids died out, but a perfectly viable one."
"Anything we need?"
"A feather of a smart bird. Owl feathers would work, but something like a crow of a raven is preferable, even a magpie would work better than an owl. Considering how difficult it was to get the owl feathers I wouldn't recommend using them anyway."
"I know of an old magpie nest. It's on the way to school in a tree. When the sun is right the shiny things collected there glitter. The birds don't live there anymore but there should be a few feathers still there."
"Good. We'll write the response now, then draw the runes on the envelope the letter came in and then take it out to the bird's nest to send it back."
"Alright, what should I write?"
Harry and Scribe took a good hour to write a reply. In the end it read as follows:
Dear Headmaster Albus Percival Brian Wolfric Dumbledore,
Dear Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall,
I am pleased to accept this offer, and I am excited to begin taking classes in Hogwarts in the fall. Thank you for this opportunity.
As I am unfamiliar with wizarding society due to the self taught nature of my magical education so far I would like to request a visit from one of the schools esteemed professors to guide me through purchasing the supplies listed in the letter as most of them are unobtainable in the mundane world.
I would further like to express my confusion at the fact that I was expected to reply to this letter via owl. As I am living in the mundane world with my mundane relatives I do not own a post owl. It is my understanding that I was supposed to send the letter back with the same owl that should have delivered your letter. However as it arrived with the rest of this household's mundane post I was forced to search out alternate means of delivering this reply.
Best regards,
Harry James Potter
Last of the Potter bloodline
"Why add the last line?"
"To hint at the fact that you are aware of your heritage without outright saying it. The proper way to address yourself in an official letter like this would be 'Harry James Potter Heir apparent to the Most Ancient and Noble house of Potter', but saying that would show you know more than you should. On the other hand, figuring out you're the last of your bloodline is possible with the kind of magic you've been using so far. If Dumbledore does his research and figures out how you sent the letter back to him he should come to the same conclusion."
"So… what? It makes me seem aware of magic and my bloodline but not of the implications it has in the wizarding world?"
"Indeed."
"Why though?"
"To make sure Dumbledore is cautious of your knowledge. If you didn't make the claim to the Potter bloodline at all, he might be outright dismissive of your reply and go on with his plans regardless. If you made the full claim, he would be pushed to investigate immediately. My hope is that this is a middle ground that will make him confused, but ultimately unable to do anything quickly enough."
"You think this will buy us a week?"
"The earliest a wizarding child can buy a wand is at 11 years old. He'll most likely either send someone or come himself on the day of your birthday. I don't see him doing anything sooner than that, since you gave him the perfect opportunity when you asked for assistance with your school shopping."
"Ah, well in that case we might as well go find the feathers. The Dursleys are getting louder. I doubt they will call the police or anything, especially considering what such an investigation might uncover. But I figure staying out of sight for the next week might be a good idea anyway."
=O=O=O=
Harry sat on top of a stone wall that surrounded the church grounds of the church that happened to be on his way to school. There was a little nook in the corner of the wall with an old bird's nest in it.
"There's a few here."
"We only need the one to send the letter but grab all of them anyway, they might be useful later. Just don't mix them up with the owl feathers, that would spell disaster."
"So how does this work anyway? I mean I'm not an expert on runes yet, but this feels… I don't know, aggressive somehow?"
"You're not far off the mark. It's sometimes called the 'Return to Sender Ritual' and was most often used to return cursed and poisoned items to whoever sent them. It's deliberately made to be a rather aggressive means of delivery. It also happens to be one of the simplest solutions to returning a letter, though it would be considered rude to use it if any other means are available."
"Of which of course I have none, thus making this just passive aggressive instead of outright rude."
"Precisely."
Harry smiled and pressed the feather against the rune covered envelope, channelling his magic into it. With a puff of black smoke and a bit of a whoosh noise the letter was gone. When Harry realised he just performed witchcraft while sitting on the border of a church his smile turned into a smirk as he chuckled to himself.
=O=O=O=
Meanwhile in the office of one Albus Dumbledore the headmaster was enjoying a cup of herbal tea while dealing with some of the paperwork that came with his duties brought about by his many positions of power. Something about an inquiry into the magical government of the Netherlands and how the ICW didn't find anything major.
Albus put away the parchment and took a moment to appreciate his genius in hoisting all of his school related duties on his Deputy. Each letter of acceptance needed to be filed and the first ones have already started coming in. He shuddered at the thought of having to do the mind numbing duty himself.
Just as he was about to pick up another parchment a small burst of magic accompanied by a whoosh noise allerted him of the need to dodge. His combat reflexes kicked in and in a few moments he was standing, wand in hand, aiming at the spot the burst came from. When nothing seemed to happen he cast a chain of diagnostic spells around the room.
The only thing he found was some sort of… aggressive inanimate object transportation spell? Albus then looked to his phoenix familiar and found Fawkes utterly unperturbed by the current events. Fawkes simply met his eyes, took a long drink from his silver bird feeder, settled into a more comfortable position and went to sleep.
Albus frowned in confusion and turned to the wall behind him to find whatever the spell had delivered to him. There on the wall was an envelope pinned to the stone wall by a greenish black feather. The emerald green ink read simply:
Mr. H. Potter
The Cupboard Under the Stairs
4, Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
=O=O=O=
When Harry returned back to the Dursleys' home, the amulet was still doing its thing. Vernon and Petunia were sitting in the living room and were discussing Harry's disappearance in hushed voices.
It seemed they had determined that they should simply wait it out for now and pretend nothing strange was happening. If any of the neighbours asked they had sent Harry to a summer camp of some sort. And if Harry returned at some point? Well the summer camp had simply sent the problem child back home.
Harry was quite happy with the arrangement for now. He still had two unused amulets left and that gave him enough time to make a few more to keep him hidden until his birthday. He had gotten quite good at carving them and could reasonably prepare one in a few hours.
=O=O=O=
It was the night of the ritual and midnight was fast approaching. Harry was currently drawing runes on the road. He really hoped everyone was asleep, but considering it would be Tuesday in a few minutes and all the adults would need to go to work in a few hours, it was a safe bet.
It was only about a minute after midnight that Harry made the last check of the runes. He then took out a pair of scissors from his pocket and cut off a bunch of his hair. After placing the hair he set about placing the anchors, the yew on the outer circle and the feathers on the innermost circle.
Harry then stood in the middle of the circle and started channelling his magic.
"Well, I suppose this is a goodbye of sorts. If you did everything right, and I am fairly sure you did, your soul will consume mine soon. For what it's worth, it was nice knowing you, Harry."
The circles were glowing now, the outermost in forest green with runes in red, the middle in gold with runes in emerald green and the innermost in bright blue with runes in pale gold.
"Thank you, Scribe. Thank you for everything."
If anyone on Privet drive was awake they might have seen a flash of emerald green lightning descend in complete silence.
As it was, the only one to see anything was a half kneazle belonging to one Mrs. Figg.
=O=O=O=
Harry had a splitting headache. The chalk and the anchors were all gone, the ritual was a success. But memories now littered his mind like a pile of paper, parchment, books, scrolls… a mess of knowledge, all in disarray. He sat on the curb of the road and closed his eyes.
Memories came and went through his mind for what seemed like minutes, maybe hours. Until finally a piece of knowledge showed itself. A memory of the thief, of Scribe, sorting through knowledge of magic, existence, lore and paths. Harry clung to it with all his might and started putting it into practice.
With a wave of willpower he put a stop to the unfiltered torrent of memories. Not a single piece of paper moved an inch. Then he willed them to separate by origin into three torrents of assorted media. He recognised what must have been the torrent of the millenia old cursed wizard as it was the one where the majority of all the knowledge went. The most damaged books seemed to congregate into a hallway of its own; a dark dusty one. The knowledge of the dark lord who killed his parents. Books and scrolls that seemingly had nothing in common congregated themselves into the last hallway. Bits and pieces of stories collected from all over.
Stacks upon stacks of books and paper littered the three hallways that branched from the main room at equidistant angles. Harry recognised he stood within a circular study, walls covered in wooden shelving, though only a few books sat there. The very prominent desk in the middle of the room had a single scroll of parchment laid on it. The scroll was titled as "Occlumency - secure mental libraries and archives", and it seemed Harry was sitting at the desk and reading it.
=O=O=O=
Author's note?
Hello! And Happy New Year to everyone reading when this came out!
Not quite what anyone expected when I promised an extra new year upload, I'm sure.
So, those of you familiar with me and my other work know I have so far stayed within the confines of the RWBY universe and fandom, and as such I'm sure you know who the Infinite Man alludes to. Those of you unfamiliar with RWBY can remain calm, this chapter contains the majority of all the references to it and all are frankly inconsequential to the story I wish to tell here.
Regarding my posting schedule, I don't see myself having enough time to post weekly as I do with my main series Arsenal of Arc. I do however have two more chapters already written so there is definitely more to come out of TLMotIM... I should have thought of a shorter title... oh well. Basically posting is going to be inconsistent until time allows otherwise.
Thank you so much for reading and thank you for getting this far. If you want to support me you can do so on P a treon . com (slash) OlympianScribe
Anyway I hope you enjoyed and are looking forward to the next chapter: Ch. 2 Gold, Magic and Lore