Hedwig and the broken chick
Prologue
Her mother had been one of the fae; her father called himself Lord Voldemort, but the name Tom M Riddle was what appeared on her heritance sheet.
What he called himself didn't matter when he decided to take possession of his infant daughter, killing her mother without thought. Whether he meant to rear her, or use her for potion ingredients, the child had no idea, but accidental magic made sure he did neither.
There was one small problem.
She was stuck in her form as a Snowy Owl.
Thirteen years later she found herself in Eeylops Owl Emporium wondering how much more trouble she had to cause in order to be released, when a gigantic man came in with a small boy. She thought he was small enough to be the big man's lunch; and then their eyes met.
She felt the glow and tingle as a soul bond formed.
This one belonged to her.
In the beginning
Hedwig was a suitable name; battle-strife. Hedwig had almost forgotten the name her mother called her, but it was a child's name. She was a warrior, and like her kind had knowledge through her blood from her ancestors as well as anything she might have learned in the meantime by reading over the shoulders of others. She was also a fair legilimens. And between that and the fact that little Harry talked to her the way he talked to nobody else she knew all about him.
Dumbledore was so dead if she ever got her own form back. And she would see what she could do to crap in his food in the meantime. The muggles Harry lived with were unsuitable, and her fae senses told her that the wards set up about the place were not functioning correctly. Her Wizard needed somewhere else to live, but Hedwig had the whole school year to think about this. If she had only known before they left Diagon Alley she might have tried to contact her uncle through the goblins. Jareth did not take much notice of affairs above ground, but he was not without some influence.
Hedwig was in two minds when Harry suggested she should fly to school to wait for him. She might go to Gringotts, but she wanted to be with her helpless chick of a wizard. In fact, she could help him find the platform he was having trouble over, and she flew off and through the barrier.
She waited a moment and then returned to bark at him encouragingly.
Harry followed, and was on the train before a family of redheads arrived, unaware that their mother was busy breaking the statute of secrecy on Dumbledore's orders.
When the uncouth redhead wanted to see Harry's scar, Hedwig hissed at him, hovering protectively. She pushed the concept into her wizard's mind that anyone who cared for the scar was not going to care for the boy.
Harry quietly got down his trunk and moved out of the compartment, which meant that he was able to see for himself that the boy's claim that all other compartments were full was a lie. Hedwig firmly found a compartment with two nice-feeling girls, one strawberry blonde and one blonde, and soon Harry was chatting to Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott, and asking Susan what she meant by a family alliance.
Susan was able to fill Harry in on who he was, and would be writing to her aunt to find out why the Potter Heir had not been given his heir's ring in Gringotts nor told of his responsibilities. Susan was too sensible a girl to try to romance the Boy-Who-Lived, and was accepting of his lack of knowledge, if incensed by it, and ready to make up for his ignorance. Hedwig felt she could safely nap. She would go to Gringotts while her chick ... her mate-to-be ... slept.
The one with the turban had two souls in him and the baddest soul Hedwig had ever seen was part of the spare soul bit in her broken chick. Maybe there was a way to use the turbaned one as a magnet to draw it out. She suddenly knew where she had felt it before; the man who had sired her! She made an effort not to hiss and fly at the other soul's eyes. The dark one had the evil connection on his arm, but he also had a blood-debt connection to her chick. And many spells on him. Why was he glaring at her chick whom he should be cherishing and nurturing? Hedwig had a sudden thought. She could use him to get quicker to Gringotts.
The children left the feast, the first years stumbling in weariness.
Hedwig waited for the dark protector to get up, and she flew at him, into his face. He jerked and began to raise his wand.
Her eyes bored into his as she hovered.
The owl was not attacking as he had thought. Severus Snape held out an arm for her to land on.
"What is it? Do you have a message for me? Did you lose it?" he asked.
She gave an impatient bark and stared at him willing him to listen to her.
"You want me to use legilimensy?" he asked. He could have sworn she nodded her head. "In my quarters," he said.
She rode along on his wrist. Several Slytherin stared to see Snape with a beautiful white owl on his wrist; he ignored them. He wondered to whom she belonged. She was plainly out of the ordinary.
In his quarters, he held his wrist for her to get onto the back of a high-backed chair.
"You know, I feel a right twazzock casting legilimensy on an owl," he said. "Oh hush!" as she barked impatiently. "legilimens!" he cast the spell.
He found himself tumbling into rapid memories she was pushing at him; her accidental assumption of animagus form; the greenest eyes in the world; the lumbering walrus and the horse-faced woman he knew pushing about the wizard she had chosen ... wait, wasn't Harry Potter a pampered prince?
No you idiotic man he isn't and I am fae and I can see spells on you, Hedwig pushed a coherent thought at him. I need to go to Gringotts. You wizards use floos. I need Jareth to help me; he is my uncle and you have no idea who he is. Dammit! Just get rid of the compulsions and then we can talk.
"I'm supposed to give my welcoming speech to my new little snakes," said Severus. "I'm talking to an owl? But if you aren't an owl and are a fae ...life just got very strange. Stay here; I will be back in a quarter of an hour."
Hedwig settled down. That would do; it would take hours to fly to London, even slip-sliding along ley lines as any good postal owl or fae knew how to do. She could not reach fae-space in this form, it was tied too closely to the physical world. She knew Jareth could do so in owl form, but Jareth was ancient and wise in the ways of magic beyond anything she could imagine.
Severus returned.
"Well, that's another crop of damaged children," he said. "Draco's father expects too much of him, Pansy's father touches her up, Blaise's mother touches him up, Theo Nott is beaten for having opinions and Millie Bulstrode's mother makes it quite plain that she is disappointed that her daughter takes after her father and sneers at the child. Crabbe and Goyle are just ordinary abused children, and I swear Daphne Greengrasse is hiding something, and as a half-blood, Tracey Davis will not have it easy. So, Hedwig, let me cast some spells on myself. A diagnostic first ..."
Two minutes later, Severus started repeating himself in the torrent of swearing which had begun as soon as he had cast the diagnostic.
"Well, Hedwig, you appear to be correct," he said, having cast a selection of spells on himself. "And are there any spells on Pot ... on Harry?"
Hedwig nodded, sadly.
"I can help with that," said Severus, his black eyes glittering. "And let us now go to Gringotts."
.
.
The teller scowled.
"May gold flow into your hands as blood flows out of your enemies," said Severus, who had taken the trouble to know how to talk to goblins.
"May you prosper and defeat all your foes," said the teller. "What can I help you with?"
"I have a need to contact Jareth," said Severus, hoping not to be laughed at.
The goblin's ears went up and his eyes narrowed.
"And why do you need to contact Jareth?" he almost hissed.
"Because his niece here is stuck in her alternate form and she needs his aid," said Severus.
"Come with me," said the goblin.
Soon Severus was sitting in a comfortable waiting room in a part of the bank he had never visited before, drinking coffee with a plate of cakes and pastries at his side, and Hedwig had a welcome bowl of water and plate of owl treats.
They waited for half an hour.
And then suddenly a tall, athletic figure with messy blond hair materialised in the middle of the room. Severus managed to put down the cup of coffee before leaping to his feet to bow.
"You know who I am; how amusing. I thought all the wizards had forgotten about me," said Jareth.
"We have, your majesty, but Hedwig told me enough to enable me to bring her to you," said Severus.
"I don't recall a niece called Hedwig," said Jareth.
Hedwig hooted, barked and hissed at him, beating her wings at him.
He regarded her critically.
"Well you certainly bear all the marks of a relative of mine," he said. "Get on the chair."
Hedwig settled on the other chair and Jareth made a few passes with his hand. Suddenly a naked teenage girl was sitting there.
Severus averted his gaze and took off his robe, passing it to her.
"He's a gentleman!" said Hedwig, in a rather raspy voice. "Oh! It's so hard to talk!"
"It will be," said Jareth. "You are surely Aeranthe, who vanished."
"Yes, but it's a child's name and my wizard named me, and he's my chick and he will be my mate," said Hedwig. "He chose the name of a warrior."
Jareth frowned.
"You surely don't mean to be involved in the wars of wizards, do you?" he said. "Aren't you coming back with me, to be my heir?"
"No, Uncle Jareth, I have my wizard to take care of," said Hedwig. "We soul-bonded. And if you don't involve yourself with the affairs of wizards you'll end up losing all the goblins who will either be subverted and then killed or just killed. You're out of touch. Tell him, Severus!"
"I've been promoted from dark defender to Severus, have I?" said Severus, who had picked out her thoughts of him.
"Bird thoughts," she said, waving a hand.
"Well, my Lord Prince, as you have ignored everything about your inheritance, why should I listen to you?" asked Jareth.
"I'm not Lord Prince; that's my grandfather," said Severus.
"Your grandfather is dead and so is your uncle," said Jareth. "You are Lord Prince ... surely you got the notification?"
"I never received ... mail wards. I took off mail wards along with compulsions. That manipulative, mind-bending duplicitous old goat!"
"Dumbledore?" asked Jareth.
"Even so," said Severus.
"Well, well," said Jareth. "I don't like having death eaters near my relatives."
"Draco Malfoy is your relative and his father is one," said Hedwig.
"Oh? I may have to have words with Lucius," said Jareth. "You are ashamed of being a death eater."
"Of course I am," said Severus. "It was a stupid decision. And I regretted it very quickly. Especially when he targeted the woman I loved, and her husband and son."
"Roll up your sleeve," said Jareth. Severus did so.
A pass of Jareth's hand had a crystal ball in it; and he lightly touched it to the dark mark. Severus cried out as the evil tattoo flowed into the crystal, and Jareth tossed it into the air and it burst, like a soap bubble.
"Oh Uncle Jareth! Can you do that to the soul fragment in my wizard?"
Jareth froze. So did Severus.
"Soul fragment?" they both said together.
"Yes, and it belongs to the second soul on the back of the teacher with the turban," said Hedwig. "What?" as they both stared at her.
"Now you know how I felt when an owl accosted me and demanded I use legilimensy on her," said Severus, to Jareth.
Jareth laughed ruefully.
"I appreciate that you took notice of her," he said.
"I need to get back to Hogwarts," said Severus. "I am head of the house of Slytherin, and a fine crop of unhappy children I have."
"And I need to learn to get in and out of owl; Harry will be crushed if I disappear," said Hedwig. "He needs someone to look after him, and I can only do that if I can be his owl."
Jareth frowned.
"Who is his magical guardian?" he asked.
"Dumbledore, I imagine," said Severus.
"We will see about that," said Jareth. "My mother was mother of the three Peverell brothers when she ran off with a wizard, before she married my father when her husband died. That makes me his uncle."
"He has your hair, Uncle Jareth, only black," said Hedwig.
The goblin king grinned, and Severus saw with a shock some resemblance to James Potter. He drew back.
"Be tranquil, Severus Snape; you have done me a signal service," said Jareth. "I can be cruel but not without reason. If my kindred have the cruel streak without the training to temper it, I need then to train my nephew. And my other nephew, Lucius. Well, well, it appears that I will not be bored by this development. My niece, you may transform and return with Lord Prince. I will make sure that Chief Ragnok knows who to blame for your apparent rudeness, Lord Prince. Now I wonder if Lord Potter is also subject to mail wards?"
"He is," said Hedwig. "He knows nothing about who he is."
"Well, well," said Jareth. "Time for a prank war on the old goat."
Harry settled in
Harry woke up excited, and suddenly realised that he had room to stretch if he wanted because he was in a real bed, a comfortable one, in a dormitory with Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchly and Neville Longbottom, who had been introduced to him by Susan and Hannah. Ernie Macmillan was also in a family who was a member of the alliance, but Harry found Ernie rather hectoring and ebullient. Yesterday his only friend had been Hedwig; today he had several friends in Hufflepuff House, and possibly the bushy-haired girl in Ravenclaw who had been nice to Neville, and who had scared him at first by asking pushy questions. Susan had been brilliant with her, telling her how rude she was being, and asking if she'd talk to the muggle Prince William the way she was to the magical world's equivalent.
Harry had protested that he was not a prince, and Susan had told him a few things which left him, and Hermetica or whatever her name was gasping. Susan had pointed out that the wizarding world was a different culture and should be treated as different not worse and not better.
"My aunt is head of the DMLE, Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Sue had explained. "She has to deal with muggles so I know more about muggles than most. And yes, muggles do things wizards can't and wizards do things muggles can't. But neither is right and neither is wrong so please stop sounding as though you are accusing us of being quaint or you won't make friends."
Herm – whatever it was – had gone red and swallowed hard, blinked a few times, and Harry was glad he had smiled at her, and said,
"I don't know much about either world because my relatives wanted me to stay out of the way so I've never been to the cinema or eaten pizza or anything any more than I've never written with a quill."
"But didn't you get the orientation pack?" Hermithingy had asked.
It was something of a revelation to Harry how much more Hermi knew about the wizarding world than he did, having been given an orientation pack.
It was early, so he thought he would sneak up to the owl loft and see Hedwig.
Hedwig woke up when she felt her wizard near.
"Hello, girl," said Harry. "I have some other friends now, as well as you, but I'm scared I won't be good enough for them. You accept me as I am."
Hedwig barked at him, and nestled.
Have I got a story to tell you, she said in his head. Now my magic has been unlocked. Oh my darling Harry, I hope you won't mind!
"Mind what?" asked Harry.
Hedwig transfigured into her fae form.
Harry gaped. Suddenly his owl was a beautiful, petite girl with pale skin, white-blonde hair like Malfoy's, and big golden eyes.
He stumbled back.
"You ... you were playing a trick on me? And now you're going to laugh," he was almost sobbing.
Hedwig flung herself into his arms.
"Didn't you feel us bond?" she said "I am yours and you are mine. And I am free of the enchantment because I was able to get to see my uncle. Your enemy is my enemy. V...Voldemort is my father and he killed my mother. I ... I wanted to tell you so I was not living a lie."
Harry sat down on the floor in shock, and Hedwig was glad that he was out of the area of guano. She sat on his lap.
"Hedwig ... is it still you? What is your real name?"
"You gave me an adult name; I am Hedwig, a warrior to stand at your side," said Hedwig. "But not until you are ready. I found out lots, but ... but it's a bit much to give you all at once."
"I'm finding this a bit much all at once," said Harry.
"Well, I shall be an owl most of the time," said Hedwig. "I can look after you better that way. And I want to learn to be invisible, so I can be with you in classes as well."
"That ... that would be neat," said Harry. "Oh Hedwig! Everything is so very muddled, but I'm glad I'm here."
"Yes, and you have some good friends," said Hedwig. "It'll be harder for Hermione on her own in Ravenclaw, but she'll be glad of you being nice to her. The girls in the year above are bullies."
"Oh no," said Harry. "How do you know?"
"Owls gossip like old women," said Hedwig.
Meanwhile
Jareth was having the time of his life. He was allowed into any vault he felt like and he went looking for a will dealing with Harry James Potter. Or as he was named according to proper Peverell tradition, Hendricus Iacobus Peverell Potter. According to custom the true name was hidden to anyone but a relative with benign intent, but only the true name signed was legally binding. Another thing Harry would not know. A few things leaped out at Jareth, who was going to be spending a lot of time at the ministry. As soon as he had filed for custody for his nephew, he went to see Amelia Bones.
"About my nephew, known to your people as Harry Potter," he said. "Why wasn't his sworn godfather given a trial when falsely accused of being the Potter secret keeper? It's all in James's and Lily's wills, you know."
"The wills were sealed," said Amelia. "And who the devil are you?"
"Devil? Devil. I like that," said Jareth. "I'm Jareth. Do you know who that is?"
"Oh fuck," said Amelia.
"A lady who knows what she likes," smirked Jareth.
"Knock it off; it was a comment, not a suggestion," said Amelia, wishing he didn't make her damp in uncomfortable places. "Yes, Your Majesty, I know who you are. I had no idea Harry Potter was a connection of yours or I might just have popped into Gringotts when he disappeared."
"Ah? I think I like you," said Jareth. "Sirius Black was named guardian in the wills; and Peter Pettigrew as the secret keeper. Look who signed that will."
"Albus Dumbledore. He knew." Amelia was furious. "I can't bring that home to him, you know; best that will happen is a censure for carelessness in not reading what he signed."
"Oh, leave Albus Dumbledore to me," said Jareth. "I resent my nephew growing up starved and beaten and treated like a house elf and denied any mail and any knowledge of his heritage. The old meddler is about to be living in interesting times."
Hogwarts.
Hermione Granger turned up at breakfast without any shoes.
Harry noticed and frowned.
"Sue," he said, "You know about laws and rules; someone is bullying er, Hermione. What can we do about it?"
"Go over to her table and tell the Ravenclaws that her property better be back in their right places and stay there or you'll invoke heir's rights to sanction their families because she is under protection of House Potter," said Sue. "I'll come with you."
"Me too, and put her under protection of the alliance," said Neville.
Harry quaked approaching so many people, most of them bigger than him.
Hedwig ghosted down from a rafter and sat on his shoulder. He stood taller.
"You Ravenclaws," said Harry, clearly, "Hermione is under the protection of House Potter and the Potter Alliance. Her things had better be back where they belong before she even finishes breakfast or as heir I will place the houses of those I suspect under sanctions."
He knew enough to recognise shifting and twitches of guilt, and even more the smirks of the guilty.
"And you were still sitting here why, when you have goods to return?" barked Sue.
Hedwig silently left Harry's shoulder and flew into three faces in turn.
They looked shocked; he really did know.
"We're going," said the Asian girl.
"So I should hope," said Sue. "Theft is a nasty word and as you're over eleven you are subject to the full rigour of the law as well as your families being under sanction."
The three girls fled.
"Thank you," said Hermione. "Oh Harry! I could have sworn you wouldn't remember my name."
"Hedwig reminded me," said Harry, and flushed as he had a firm and bushy-haired hug. "I think you ought to move into Hufflepuff with us. I don't like bullies and if Ravenclaw has bullies like Gryffindor seems to, and like Malfoy wants to be in Slytherin, it's the only place to be safe."
"But the hat ..."
"Stuff the hat," said Harry, forcibly. "I'm coming up when you've finished breakfast to help collect your things. We have most of our classes with Ravenclaw, and I'm sure Madam Sprout can sort it out."
Hermione giggled.
"Oh, boys can't get into girls' dorms," she said.
"Really?" said Harry.
"We get given more trust in the Sett," said Sue. "Don't worry, Hermione; Hannah and I will help you."
.
.
Hermione moved in with the Badgers, and Madam Sprout was called upon.
"It's in the charter," said Sue. "You can ask to be re-hatted if you feel unsafe in your house or dead miserable."
"Yes, I know," said Pomona, dryly. "The headmaster wants you to try re-sorting, Mr. Potter; he said he thought you were in the wrong house."
Harry looked terrified.
"I don't want to go into Slytherin!" he said.
Pomona gaped.
"Slytherin?" she asked.
"Yes, the hat said I would do well in Slytherin but I don't want to share a dorm with Malfoy and his gorillas," said Harry.
"Well, well," said Pomona. "The headmaster was certain the hat was going to urge you to be a Gryffindor."
"I wouldn't want to be with those thugs either," said Harry.
"I will pass on your objections," said Pomona. "And explain I have a request for a house transfer and re-hatting. Dear me, I will do that first and then explain your reservations after the headmaster has let me have the hat for Miss Granger."
"How very Slytherin of you, Madam Sprout," teased Susan.
.
.
.
The first lesson the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had was Potions, and Hermione was hissed by the first year Ravenclaws.
"Go speak parseltongue on your own time," said Sue.
"What's parseltongue?" asked Harry.
"Speaking to snakes; someone who can do that is called a parselmouth," said Sue.
"Oh, I thought it was something wizards do. I can talk to snakes," said Harry. "I got in dreadful trouble because I accidentally helped one to escape."
Sue stared.
"Oh!" she said. "Well ... Paracelsus was a parselmouth; so not all of them are dark wizards."
"Sue, he's eleven; how can he be a dark wizard?" said Hermione. "Perhaps if people make a fuss about it, it's driven people who are parselmouths to become dark wizards because people are unkind to them."
"It's a fair point," said Sue.
The door crashed open and Severus Snape swept to the front of the classroom like a bat out of hell, robes billowing, and Hedwig preening on his shoulder, which made Harry relax a bit.
Snape glared around the class, and gave his speech. He glowered at Harry, who was busy with his pen.
"Mr. Potter, what are you writing?"
"I'm trying to get it all down sir, but I am not good at writing fast with a quill yet," said Harry.
Severus swept up to peer at what he was writing, flicked a finger, and finished the sentence for the boy.
To think he would have assumed he was doodling with all those compulsions on him.
"Who can tell me where I would find a bezoar?" he snapped before Harry could stammer thanks.
Hermione's hand went up.
"And you are?" asked Severus.
"Hermione Granger, professor, and you find it in the stomach of a goat."
"True, but in my class please remember that even if you want to grow your arms to the length of an orang-utan, there are no skyhooks to stretch it on, and jiggling about like that is potentially dangerous. You've answered your question for the term, you read ahead, I don't need to see your arm again before Christmas; if nobody else knows an answer I will call on you. Let us try the other side of the room; what is the difference between wolfsbane and monkshood? Nobody? Ah a Hufflepuff hand? Mr. Longbottom, I believe."
"Sir, they are the same plant, aconite, but the different terms are applied according to which part of the plant you use," said Neville, feeling brave in having friends.
Severus smiled.
"A full answer," he said. "We will probably make a potioneer of you; whatever people say, potioneering is more about aptitude than power."
Neville perked up.
As a consequence, he was not nervous, and did not make a single mistake.
Harry toiled on as best he might.
"Mr. Potter," said Severus, "Can you actually read what is on the board?"
"No, sir," said Harry. The Ravenclaws tittered.
"Your former guardians have been lax in seeing to your eyesight," said Severus. "But don't worry, it will be sorted out. For now you may leave your desk to come and look at the board, and copy it down to take back to your desk; you have time to start again. You also need a book on techniques; it should be on the muggleborn orientation list, Miss Granger! Did you obtain one hundred useful preparation techniques?"
"No, sir, it was not on the list," said Hermione.
"Purebloods are taught at home how best to prepare ingredients; it should have been on the list."
"P..please, sir, my Gran wouldn't allow me to learn before coming to school," said Neville. "I haven't learned either."
"Very well, there is a copy in the bookcase over there which you Puffs may borrow," said Severus. There was no fun in winding up Hufflepuffs, who usually made decent potioneers anyway. "Let me have it back when you have obtained your own copies."
"Some of us haven't done any brewing before either," said one of the Ravenclaw boys.
"Well, none of you have yet made a good enough showing to make much difference," said Severus, not entirely fairly.
Ravenclaws rose almost as well as Gryffindors after all.
.
.
.
"Mr. Potter, stay, please, and you don't need the loyal badger bodyguard; I have enough potion ingredients, I don't need any more errant eleven year old spleen," said Severus as the others hovered.
Harry giggled.
"You're awfully droll, sir," he said.
"I have to have a black sense of humour or I would be permanently in despair," said Severus. It had been Terry Boot who had left his cauldron on the heat when he added porcupine quills. "Mr. Potter; it has come to my attention that you have been placed in an inappropriate environment and have a number of spells on you, which I purpose to remove. When you get your heir ring, it will automatically protect you from the same, but you may as well have me check what is affecting you now."
"Yes, sir, if you say so. Who would cast spells on me?"
"Probably the same person who cast spells on me, to make me dislike your father's son more than a little," said Severus. "Never meet the Headmaster's eyes; he is a legilimens. Can perceive your thoughts."
"Oh!" said Harry.
"I am also a legilimens and so is Hedwig," said Severus. "Yes, I know who she is, and that she is a distant cousin of yours, and that you have an uncle who is not in the least like that walrus you have been living with. I ... will be here for you and offer an alliance between House Prince, such as it is these days and House Potter."
"I think that would be good," said Harry. "Life is very confusing right now."
"Yes, I wager it is," said Severus, looking over his diagnostics. "Merlin's toenails! Mail redirect I expected, trace charms, but to bind down your core and prevent you being a metamorphmagus? I need to see your Uncle Jareth. It's beyond me to deal with other than getting rid of the mail redirect. And that's illegal as it's blocking mail from Gringotts."
"It's because I'm a freak, I suppose," sighed Harry.
"Harry James Potter, you are not a freak," said Severus. "The headmaster is a freak, for his unnatural interest in you. Now don't you and your friends even dare considering seeing what's on the third corridor because if you do, I'll spank you all myself."
"No, sir; we decided it was something to prank the Weasley twins, because the staff are so sick of their pranks they decided to prank them back."
"Good grief!" said Severus. "Found out by a bunch of firsties? Of course you know we do NOT admit to it."
"Of course not, sir," said Harry.
He tripped away happily.
"And at that, it's a damned good reason to let slip," muttered Severus to himself.
.
.
.
The hat quickly agreed to put Hermione into Hufflepuff, and the trim on her robes changed. Pomona took the sorting hat back to Dumbledore's office.
"Ah, excellent, did we have a change of house?" he asked, rubbing his hands in anticipation.
"Yes, Miss Granger is now in Hufflepuff, away from the bullying," said Pomona.
The headmaster's mouth fell open.
"But ... I told you Harry would need re-sorting, I assumed ..."
"I can't help what you assumed, Headmaster," said Pomona. "Miss Granger asked to be resorted; and Mr. Potter asked not to be re-sorted in case the hat went with its original idea to put him in Slytherin. He has taken a firm dislike to Slytherin House. Indeed, he said that the other three houses all have bullies in, why would he take the chance the Hat was going to move him when he was happy in Hufflepuff. He fits in very well; a friendly boy, seems hard working, and of course he needs all the support he can get, poor boy."
"Why on earth should he think there are bullies in Gryffindor house?" asked Dumbledore.
"He met Ronald Weasley," said Pomona, dryly. "He also advanced the theory that the faculty set up whatever is on the third floor corridor to prank the Weasley twins in revenge. I wish I'd thought of doing that, but you don't need to worry about Mr. Potter and his friends being stupid enough to try to get past that dratted dog."
"Well, well, when he has settled down I'm sure he will be more high spirited," said Dumbledore.
"Not if I have anything to do with it," said Pomona. "I sent a report of his school medical to the DMLE as well; the old injuries on that child's body are disgraceful. I hope that they throw the book at whoever has been his magical guardian; they've abrogated their responsibility badly in letting those dratted muggle relatives of his abuse him so thoroughly. Severus told me that he will have to go to Diagon Alley for new glasses as he can't read what is on the board. Disgraceful!"
"You sent it to the DMLE without consulting me?" Dumbledore was dismayed.
"I sent you a copy," said Pomona. "You didn't say anything, but then, you never help out Severus when his little snakes come back from holiday abused, Minerva doesn't care how badly her lions are hurt, and Filius is too academic to notice. But my badgers will be protected."
Dumbledore nodded automatically. What was done was done, and he could no longer do anything save hope to browbeat Amelia Bones.
Fat lot of hope that was.
.
.
.
"Mr. Potter, could you come to my office please?" asked Madam Sprout.
"Do I need what Professor Snape calls my Badger Bodyguard?" asked Harry.
"I don't think so. You have a new guardian who is going to take you out of school for the weekend. Professor Snape has vouched for him and all the paperwork is in order," said Madam Sprout.
Harry went with her and looked with awe upon the tall, blonde man in his rather ... figure-hugging ... clothing.
"Hello Hendricus," said Jareth.
"Please, sir, my name is Harry," said Harry.
"No, you are called Harry. In your parents' will, you are named Hendricus, or Henry in modern parlance. It's a family tradition and you will learn your secret name for signing documents. It is important that you think of that name when signing any contracts, to make sure that you are not entered illegally into contracts you don't want."
"Aren't I a little young to enter into contracts?"
"Not if someone decides to land a betrothal contract on you," said Jareth. "Now so far as I'm concerned, the bond you made with my niece, now named Hedwig means that any other contracts should have crumbled into dust as Magic made her choice."
"If you say so, sir," said Harry. "So much is very confusing."
"Oh, once you acknowledge that, you stand at the threshold of true wisdom," said Jareth. "You may call me Jareth; I'm a great uncle with a few extra greats, but we shan't argue over that. I'm essentially the current Lord Peverell because that little git Tom Riddle, who calls himself Voldemort, is so far down the line of succession that he might as well claim to be King of Spain. Shall we go?"
"Er, yes, sir, if you wish," said Harry. "Will I live with you in the long holidays?"
"And the short ones if you like," said Jareth. "In fact I think I insist on it; your education on your place in society has been sadly neglected."
"Er, yes, sir, so Sue told me," said Harry.
"And she doesn't know the half," said Jareth.
.
.
Hoggle was a very good gardener, but Jareth had a number of other fae servants at his disposal. His personal valet was a part house-elf, part fae, part goblin named Glassi, who could use fae travel and pop like a house-elf. Glassi was pale green with solid dark green eyes slit like a cat's, and he was currently inside Dumbledore's wardrobe, carving runes on the inside of the door to curse the headmaster's robes to be entirely devoid of colour; any colour you like so long as it is black, grey or white, Jareth had misquoted Henry Ford. The headmaster might cast finite incantatem until he was as grey in the face as his robes, but the curse was on the cupboard, not the robes. Glassi was chortling to himself. Runes of super-sticking on the toilet seat would be a neat addition too. Jareth had said he might have a free hand torturing the human and Glassi planned to take full advantage of that.
The hairbrush was another target. Glassi had been exposed to the muggle world, and had been horribly fascinated by the Teasy-Weasy hairstyle of Madam Thatcher. He was wondering how to apply it to Dumbledore's beard.
.
.
"Right, old son, we need to sort a few things out before Diagon Alley," said Jareth. "First of all that scar. It's going to hurt a bit, I'm afraid."
"Can you get rid of it, then, sir?" said Harry, hopefully. "I thought it was cool when I was little, but it makes people stare rudely in the Wizarding world."
"Oh, not a problem," said Jareth. "I am Jareth, and I am a master of the darkness." A globe appeared in his hand, and he pressed it to Harry's scar. As with Snape's mark, the darkness boiled out, and Jareth smiled approval on Harry for not screaming. A pass of the hand over the ugly thing made it turn into something akin to a golden snitch, but with a compass rose and a delicate pointer on the top of it. The pointer spun round a few times, and numbers appeared on the compass rose.
"He made how many? The fellow must have been demented," said Jareth. "Well I suppose he is now, if he wasn't before."
"How many what, sir?" asked Harry.
"It's Jareth," said Jareth. "Some unpleasant artefacts which your scar will help me track; not for you to worry about, it's a job for grown ups."
"Good," said Harry.
"Next, your eyes," Said Jareth. "The scar wasn't helping. But my family's descendents are supposed to be owl sighted; not quite sure what happened to your father." He passed a hand over Harry's eyes, having removed the glasses. Harry gasped in brief agony, then blinked as he looked around without glasses.
Harry was not one for physical contact, but he flung himself on Jareth.
"There now," said Jareth, disconcerted. "No, you are not used to grown ups being much use, are you? Well, the next thing I want to do is to take out the block on your core; but we'll go to my palace for that because you'll be exploding things a little bit as your body adjusts. My goblins and fae won't mind, and there I can tinker with time to start giving you the lessons you should have been having in the last ten years."
.
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Underground
To say that Harry was blown away by Jareth's kingdom under Gringotts was an understatement. He was now wearing his heir rings, which Jareth had insisted upon, and his magic kept escaping now that Jareth had unbound his core. Fortunately it mostly diverted into his appearance changing wildly with the unlocked metamorphmagus abilities.
Jareth was amazed that Harry took on the appearance of everyone he met, high and low fae, goblin, house elf and even the hag in the junk pile. Jareth hypothesised that half of it was Harry's own fae blood, and the rest was a lack of expectations of what he could do, fuelled by a suddenly much stronger core. He had no plans to limit Harry, and told Hedwig firmly that she was not to tell Harry that he was doing the impossible.
"How would I know?" said Hedwig. "I've been a bird for thirteen years; keeping abreast of current affairs and learning to read and write have been enough. If he can do it, it isn't impossible."
Jareth shrugged.
"I'll live with that," he said, watching Harry assume the appearance of Ludo, who was a ... well nobody knew quite what Ludo was. "Just keep him out of trouble but let him wander about and get to know the way round for a while."
"How long have we got?" asked Hedwig.
"As long as we need," said Jareth. "I was compressing a week into an hour for the time being. He needs nutrient potions, and I need to explain to him that he also has a godfather who is in gaol and who should not be there, and to give him the whole pure-blood skillset. Pity I couldn't steal Lord Prince to do the brewing, but that's the way it is, he has his own small persons to look after. I need to do something nice for him, though, for taking good care of you."
"I like Severus," said Hedwig. "He was kind to me, and he is kind to his own house. I think he would have been dying inside being made to be cruel to everyone else, especially Harry."
"I think you are right, and he would have become more and more bitter," said Jareth. "I will send him a refilling chest of potion ingredients only available here in the underground and an amulet to talk to birds and other reptiles."
"Other reptiles, uncle?" asked Hedwig with something of a snap.
"Well, maybe dinosaurs aren't quite reptiles, but they are closely related to them, and the only dinosaurs left today are birds. Just because the idiot wizards don't understand evolution doesn't mean I don't; the fae predate dinosaurs. Took us ages to breed mammalian beings enough like us to be of any use. You should be able to work with Harry on his parselmouth and teach him to speak to dragons and dinosaurs ... birds."
Hedwig rolled her eyes. Being part owl they rolled further than most teenagers could manage.
Harry turned into an owl, and Hedwig purred.
Back in Hogwarts
"Pomona, where is Harry Potter?" demanded Dumbledore, who was most put out that all the tracking charms had failed.
"Undergoing much needed medical check ups, having his eyesight corrected and having that scar seen to by his uncle," said Pomona Sprout.
"His Uncle?" Dumbledore was puzzled.
"Oh, not the abusive one; I wouldn't let him go with that fellow, don't you worry," said Pomona. "He's with a real uncle by blood, who is a member of the Peverell line. Much more suitable. I hope when Amelia finds out who was claiming to be his magical guardian she hexes his bollocks off; letting a child be in that situation is unforgiveable."
"Come, now Pomona, the boy has exaggerated; his relatives love him really," said Dumbledore.
"If you think starving a child and leaving him with broken bones is loving, you have a damned funny idea of love," said Pomona. "Mr. Potter hasn't said anything; but the medical spoke for itself. Poppy is of the opinion that he is lucky to have survived long enough to get to school, especially as his guardian was lax enough to leave a binding on his core and that scar leaching his magic. He was close to ending up an obscurus."
"Well, the school is his guardian as a default, but it would have been Sirius Black who obviously is not available," said Dumbledore, shocked and not a little frightened by that possibility. Surely not! "I signed any documents, of course, but one cannot forever be checking on orphans when they have blood relatives."
"Oh, you are in for an uncomfortable time with Amelia," said Pomona. "I like your new style, by the way; much more dignified than your previous eye-wrenching choices. Not so sure about the, er, hairstyle."
Albus scowled. He did not like his new style. As to the Teasy-Weasy beard he disliked it intensely.
"I did not give permission for Harry to be out of the castle," he said.
"You don't have to; it's a matter for his head of house," said Pomona. "And Lord Peverell wants to make sure that Mr. Potter knows his place in society."
"That would be a mistake; he needs to grow up humble and giving," said Dumbledore .
"Humble! I'll give you humble, you old fool!" cried Pomona. "Humble? Beaten and starved, you don't get a lot more humble than that, and he came close to offending all the members of the Potter alliance, if Susan had not taken him under her wing, he would have found himself sanctioned by all the other members, and then where would he be?"
"Less trouble than James Potter who knew exactly how to mess about with political connections," almost snarled Dumbledore.
"Oh, I don't think he's much like James at all," said Pomona. "A gentle and caring lad; and using his political affiliations in the right way, like putting Miss Granger under the protection of the Potter alliance and using it to stop those nasty pieces of work in the second year in Ravenclaw. I was so glad he turned out to have another relative."
"Well what has this other relative been doing all these years?" snarked Dumbledore.
"Unaware that his nephew existed because of some fool hiding him," said Pomona, who knew fine well which old fool it was. "I am very glad that Severus was able to sort it out; his loyalty to Lily and her son is very touching."
"Severus did this? How could he?" Dumbledore was horrified.
"He did the right thing," snapped Pomona.
Dumbledore went to find Severus.
.
"Severus, my boy, I am most disappointed in you," said Dumbledore.
Severus looked up.
"What is it now?" he asked.
"Really, Severus! finding some relative of Harry's?" said Dumbledore. He went white. "Severus, you have not delivered the boy to Voldemort, have you?"
"Are you insane, Albus?" asked Severus. "Of course I haven't. Lord Peverell despises the little dunderhead, and rightly so."
"Who ... who is Lord Peverell?" asked Dumbledore, absently casting some stronger compulsion and loyalty charms.
He flew back, with a headache as the Prince family ring repelled his spells.
"Dear me, Albus, being of a lesser line, I see you are unaware of the power of the house ring of a lord of an ancient and noble line," said Severus. "Or is that why you tried to deny it to me? The goblins were put out by thinking I was being rude to them. However that little misunderstanding has been cleared up, and I have an excellent family alliance with their king. You have heard of Jareth, haven't you?"
Dumbledore paled.
He had heard of Jareth.
"You will regret throwing in your lot with someone like that, Severus," said Dumbledore, shaking his head sadly, "I fear if you do not sever such ties, I will have to ask Amelia Bones to look at your left arm."
"She can look at my left arm all she wishes," said Severus. "Nothing there any more to look at. The Goblins have magic you can't even comprehend."
"Severus, you are being foolish. Harry Potter cannot know his inheritance, or he will have something to live for. He has to die in order to make Voldemort mortal."
"Old man," said Severus, levelly, "you must be insane if you think you can make me violate my oath to protect Lily's son. Indeed, I think my oath demands that I should consider you a risk to the boy. Be very careful. I am the world's pre-eminent potioneer and I am capable of making sure that you are very ill whilst eating the same food which is harmless to everyone else. Leave Harry Potter alone."
"I do not understand why everyone so misunderstands me," said Dumbledore mournfully.
"Perhaps some of us are learning to understand you only too well."
Back in the underground
Harry was discovering flying as an owl with Hedwig and some guidance from Jareth, and he was in love with it.
"I wish I could stay here for ever and ever," he said.
"Oh, you will, my boy, but we have some pranking to do of the one responsible for leaving you with those ... people ... and who did not seek a way to remove your scar," said Jareth. "And you also want to help your friends, including Lord Prince, I expect."
"I do," said Harry. "I'd have been lost without them, even with Hedwig."
"We fae always pay our debts, of whatever kind they are," said Jareth. "And Dumbledore let you down so badly you may as well spend the seven years of schooling letting him regret that. Only a portion of the time you spent being ill-treated, but I am sure you and Hedwig will be ... very creative."
Harry beamed.
"Some misdirecting moss in the wall outside his study perhaps," he said.
"That's my boy!" said Jareth.
.
.
Harry was also practising the wandless magic Jareth considered to be essential, and was excited that the wandmaking goblin of the underground was crafting a wand just for him.
"It's as different to the off-the-shelf wands Olivander makes as flying a racing broom is to sticking a flying charm on a kitchen broom," Jareth had told him. "Olivander does better than most because that family has a touch of the seer to them. And he knows exactly which wand suits which customer, but he will mess about with the mystique making you try others. It solves some useful purpose in letting you see something about which wands work for you and which don't; and nine out of ten of his victims – uh, customers – fail to take the lesson away with them. That wand you carry is the brother of the one Tommy owns, and that means they cannot attack each other. Now there are times where that might be useful, but having a focus which responds to you like it is part of your core will work better yet. And a wise man changes his wand after every life-changing experience."
Harry nodded.
"Finding out about you and Hedwig was certainly life changing; and that has affected my magic which is why twin cores of one of her feathers and one of yours responds best."
"Well done, you remembered. You are a parseltongue as well so soaking them in basilisk venom touches your Peverell and Slytherin ancestors."
"And Rowan and Elder woods are tricky for most wizards to use but will ensure that my wand is no more than a stick in the hands of most people," said Harry. "I thought Rowan trees repel magic? Weren't they planted to repel witches?"
"Hedge witches of the level of most of the magical community of Britain, yes," said Jareth, contemptuously. "Rowan, luis in Celtic, reynir in old Norse, sorbus in Latin, also known as Mountain Ash and Thor's Tree of Deliverance is only useable by those of us with fae blood. It has a strength and resilience which give it properties able to mimic those of the oak for strength and the willow for adaptability. For the Celts it was the tree of life, symbolising courage, wisdom and protection; it even has a pentogram at the base of every berry. It is even more protective than the yew and has its cunning female side as well as base courage. As I understand it, a Hufflepuff could have been in any other house, and chose loyalty and protection over showy ambition, courage or intellectual pursuit. Only a true Hufflepuff, I suspect, could wield a rowan wand. I have rarely seen one able to do so; and now I am having two made, one for you and one for Hedwig."
"And hers is allied with willow which bends without breaking, with feathers of yours and of my owl form in it," said Harry.
"And hers has a tourmaline crystal embedded in the end for her healing ability; and yours has adamant for your iron will," said Jareth. "And as we have no need to stick to traditional wand shapes the wooden carved amulets of owls will be overlooked."
Harry smiled to himself, as he considered his uncle's words. He no longer felt helpless.
Learning Jareth's art of the sort of prestidigitation even muggles could do was good as well; Jareth had said that magical folk expect magic and surprising them with juggling and clever fingers could achieve things that magic could not, because if an item was warded against the summoning spell, unless someone thought to make it theft-proof, one could still pick pockets. Harry had found some very surprising things so far in the headmaster's robe pockets and had returned all the vault keys to Gringotts to be given back to their proper owners.
It appeared that the headmaster was using the vaults of lines which could only be claimed by the descendents of squibs, and Hermione was most surprised to get a letter from the bank and a key to the Dagworth-Granger vault which the headmaster had claimed in her name using blood collected when she had unaccountably tripped over once and cut her knee on the pavement. Justin was equally surprised to be the recipient of the frozen Derwent vault, proving him to be descended from a former headmistress and famous healer. Other muggleborn were getting equal surprises.
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"Harry," said Hedwig, "Did you know that the Polish form of Hedwig is Jadwiga?" she had done her research and pronounced it correctly as 'Yadveega'
"That's sort of ... rather nice, and softer, but still the name of a warrior," said Harry.
"Good; I will be Hedwig as an owl, and to hide that I am me, I will be Jadwiga as a girl," said Hedwig. "We don't need people to know."
"No," said Harry. "How clever you are!"
.
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.
Harry was the first person to meet a beautiful young woman with a lad a year or so his junior, who appeared at the edge of the maze.
"Hello," said Harry. "Were you looking for Jareth?"
"I... yes," said the woman. "My name is Sarah; I don't know if he's mentioned me?"
"He has a painting of you in his private chambers, in a white sparkly ballgown," said Harry. "I asked who that was and he sighed, and said he preferred not to talk about lost love and mismanaged matters."
Sarah blushed.
"He... he still cares? Then perhaps he will give succour to Toby and me. Toby does... odd things, and his parents, my father and stepmother, are divorcing, and there's an awful battle over who gets custody, so Toby and I wished ourselves here... is Hoggle still here?"
"Oh, yes, Hoggle's a friend of mine," said Harry. "Jareth is my uncle. I'm Harry, and my best friend is Jadwiga who is technically his niece too. I expect Toby will be going to Hogwarts, where I'm at school, where we're supposed to be taught to control our magic."
"Oh, wicked!" said Toby. "I remember a room with some wild stairs."
"Yes, negotiating them is one of my lessons," said Harry. "C'mon; we'll take the short cut."
Sarah stared as Harry took the short cut.
"But I was warned not to go that way!" she said.
"By Kindly Katerpillar? Yeah, well, it leads direct to the castle and a lot of people don't want to go there," said Harry.
Because of the way the labyrinth worked, Sarah's arrival was known before they reached the castle, and soon she was surrounded by old friends, hugging her, and greeting her.
"Wow," said Toby.
"Oh, if you're going to be like my foster brother, you'll get to know them too," said Harry.
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.
.
Jadwiga sighed in romantic delight when Jareth turned up, and Sarah turned to him, no eyes for anyone else, and walked into his arms.
"Sarah!" said Jareth.
"I was too young, before," said Sarah.
"Now you are the perfect age, and will be young with me forever," said Jareth. "I have, however, made Harry my heir; on him the fate of the wizarding world depends."
"Love me, fear me, obey me, and I will be your slave," said Sarah.
"Have you learned now that if we both have a little of that – fear is an old word for respect of a ruler, you know – then we shall have mutual respect, as soul mates?" said Jareth. "I recognised you when I first saw you, but I was selfish and impatient."
"And I was childish and selfish," said Sarah. "You are of the fae..."
"We have our own rules," said Jareth. "But if you are my bonded bride, you will be protected for life."
"But not protected from you."
"I cannot hurt you," said Jareth. "I... feel you. You have been unhappy but I kept my promise and stayed away."
"Dad and Stepmother have been fighting. Part of it has been over Toby doing odd things – the boy Harry said it was magic. Did you change him?"
"Only perhaps in bringing it more to the surface. I believe someone bound your magic – perhaps a magical relative. But we can unbind it and you can learn with the children. And Toby can go to school next year."
"I just want him to be happy, and he is hating being in a tug-of-love situation."
"I never thought a lot of your father and his wife," said Jareth. "Welcome home, Sarah."
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Harry back in Hogwarts
The Harry Potter who had returned to Hogwarts after, ostensibly, a weekend away, was fitter, taller, and more self-confident than the boy who had left.
He was also joined by the young girl called Jadwiga Peverell, who was supposedly coming late to school, owing to an indisposition.
It had not caused Jareth any trouble to put her name in the book of all people. Dumbledore might cavil, but there were precedents, and Jadwiga was duly, and quietly, hatted into Hufflepuff as soon as she arrived. Here she joined Sue, Hannah, and Hermione in their dormitory, and took Hermione under her wing.
.
.
Dumbledore was getting frustrated. He knew the way to the dining room but he always seemed to take the wrong direction and it took him far longer to get there than he ought to. He sent for Harry, who turned up with Professor Sprout.
"Ah, Pomona, no need for you to stay," said Dumbledore, genially
"Please, Professor, it says in the Hogwarts charter that I am entitled to have my head of house with me," said Harry. "If I am ever called to the headmaster's office I am entitled to a parent-figure which is what a head of house is supposed to be."
"Quite right, Albus, surely you have not forgotten that?" asked Pomona.
"Well, I only wanted to see how you were settling in, my boy," said Dumbledore. "And to warn you that you should be wary of Jareth, even if he calls himself your uncle."
"Oh, he is, we did a blood test," said Harry. "He's the closest relative I have in blood in the world, though it turns out I am related to lots of other people as well. Which is really nice since I've never known any real relatives before, because it's not much fun living with my mother's adoptive sister who didn't want me."
"Adoptive?" Dumbledore's voice went up in a most falsetto register.
"Oh, yes sir; didn't you know?" said Harry. Jareth had planted false records to this effect too, in case Dumbledore checked up. "Well, thank you for seeing how I am settling in, it's lovely, but a bit unsettling to be called to your office when you haven't been doing it in alphabetical order. I will warn the rest of the sett that you will be calling them to welcome them too so they know they are not in trouble."
"Thank you," said Dumbledore, who now had to welcome every new Badger, with a cynically grinning Pomona present, or be found out by Harry that his interest was more pointed. He bit one of his lemon sweeties clean in half and chipped a tooth doing so.
He had no idea that Glassi had cast a stone-hard curse on them.
He was also to be very frustrated the next day which he used to see boring little badgers, all full of earnest desires to work hard, only to get up the next day to find the calendar still set on Tuesday and an appointment schedule seeing the badgers over again. The groundhog curse on his bedroom door frame lasted eight upspeeded days before it wore off, the apparitions of the badger children constructed by the curse and all quite unaffected by legilimency.
On Wednesday the headmaster looked remarkably drawn and tired.
.
"Are you related to Draco Malfoy?" asked Hermione, looking on Jadwiga's pale looks and pointed chin.
"Oh, yes, but not very closely," said Jadwiga. "As closely as I am related to Harry. We share an uncle, well, there's a few qualifications but uncle is close enough."
"Oh!" said Hermione. "And you met him while he was out of school?"
"We got to know each other pretty well over the weekend," said Jadwiga, which was not really a lie.
"I ... I had the feeling he wasn't treated well at home..." said Hermione.
"Yes, that's why Uncle Jareth has stepped in, now Harry isn't being hidden any more by the idiot who is his supposed magical guardian," said Jadwiga. "The one who gave him to abusive guardians and never checked on him."
"Oh, dear!" said Hermione, wringing her hands. "Some grown ups are less reliable than I always thought."
"Well, if you realise that, you're armoured against the idiots," said Jadwiga.
She and Harry had returned with sundry toys to let the headmaster know that he was in trouble; misdirecting moss being only a part of it. Harry had taken to learning runes like a duck takes to water, and a midnight excursion on the part of Harry and Jadwiga soon had runes drawn on the underside of Dumbledore's throne at the high table which would emit a farting noise the moment weight was put on the seat.
Madam Sprout had noted the bounds-breaking, but as the bounds-breakers went no further than the Great Hall, she made no issue of it. And when the chair farted loudly at breakfast, she hid a grin.
"Dear me, Albus, do you need me to brew you a stomach settler?" asked Severus.
"It wasn't... finite incantatum" cast Albus.
"And much that will help him against runes," said Harry.
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.
.
As Harry and his friends exited Defence Against the Dark Arts, no pain from the scar he no longer had, Professor Snape, robes billowing, was heading in the other direction, a white owl on his shoulder. Those used to seeing Hedwig perched on his shoulder did not turn a hair; but this was not Hedwig, but Jareth.
Both Severus and Quirrel had a free period, and Jareth wanted words with the parasite on Quirrel's head. Most of the words constituted magical chants to dislodge him.
Quirrel looked nervous as Severus swept in.
"S... S... Severus... w-w-what can I d-d-do for you?" he asked. He jumped as the door locked and wards went up.
Jareth lifted off Severus's shoulder and changed elegantly in mid air, to be at exactly the right distance not to even stumble as his booted feet touched the flagstones.
"I want to talk to Tom Marvolo Riddle," said Jareth. "I am Jareth; his overlord as head of House Peverell. He is in my face for attacking my heir."
"Let me deal with thisss" hissed the face under the turban. "I do not acknowledge you, whoever you are, I am Lord Voldemort, Heir of Slytherin." Quirrel quickly unwrapped the turban, and Voldemort sneered out at the pair.
He did not expect to get a slow handclap.
"You're right, Lord Prince, irretrievable," said Jareth. He started chanting in his own tongue whilst rolling a glass ball. Voldemort, not sure what was going on, started to say 'Avada...' but screamed halfway through the killing curse as his spirit was jerked out of the host body and into the glass globe.
"Are you going to dissipate it like with the other piece?" asked Severus.
"I am not sure I would not release it if I did," said Jareth. "There's a stupid prophecy about Harry. I need to collect all the pieces of him into here, and then Harry can make decisions when he's older."
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.
.
Jadwiga liked being herself with her wizard, but she also had plans both for Dumbledore and for the Dursleys.
She had been chatting with Hermione, who confessed to still liking some children's books like '101 Dalmations,' and she happened to mention The Twilight Barking, by which means dogs passed information from one to another.
As Hedwig, Jadwiga glided out that night to round up post owls and wild owls to involve them in a twilight Hooting to pass on some suggestions.
In the morning, every post owl was going to leave the Great Hall only after having crapped on the headmaster's breakfast; and in Surrey, the Dursleys were to be pursued by owls just staring at them.1 And as owls produce owl pellets, suitable enough for irritating Dumbledore, but not that messy, the owls enlisted crows and jackdaws to 'adorn' Vernon's car, whilst all the birds pecked the blooms off Petunia's prize dahlias and any other flowers still blooming so late in the season. An enthusiastic post owl who diverted his deliveries to join in the fun enlisted Mrs Figg's kneazles to dig up things and leave surprise parcels there.
The Dursleys were howling in anguish.
And Dumbledore frowned in confusion over why he should be 'gifted' with little parcels of bone and fur.
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.
.
Jareth, meanwhile, was using ritual to summon the other parts of Voldemort's soul to join with the main part in the crystal ball. Then he enchanted the crystal to be elastic so he could bounce it around his oubliette.
Jareth could have given lessons to Voldemort in cruelty if anyone went out of their way to make his crueller side awaken. And raping his sister, trying to control his niece, and otherwise interfering with his relatives came under the reasons to let his fae side out. The spirit in the crystal was perfectly well aware of what was going on, and howled in anguish to be told that he was going to get his wish of immortality.
In a crystal prison.
And considering how Merlin had been sealed in a crystal cave by Niniane, Jareth thought there was some symmetry there.
He felt the dark lord trying to activate the dark mark, and laughed. He should not be able to, but just in case, Jareth enacted plan B, summoning Lucius Malfoy to the bank.
Naturally, Lucius complied; one did not annoy the goblins of Gringotts.
He was not expecting to be confronted by Jareth.
"You've been a naughty boy, Lucius," said Jareth. "Taking the dark mark! My descendents bow to nobody but me; didn't you realise that? I'm afraid you'll have to take trial by labyrinth to get rid of it."
Lucius opened his mouth to retort, but had little opportunity so to do, as he found himself measuring his length in the dirt.
"Oops," said Jareth, summoning his clock of nowhere. "Thirteen hours to negotiate the maze and I might let you live."
Of course, it would have been easy enough to remove the dark mark as he had for Severus; but Severus was a friend and Lucius was a very naughty boy in a way which was considerably out of the league of Brian of Nazareth. Just because Jareth was of the fae did not mean that he was unaware of such classics as Monty Python.
He liked rock music too.
His amusement in watching Lucius run the labyrinth was, however, was appealing to his baser, fae instincts, and he had every intention of making his many times great grandson suffer.
Seeing Lucius's perfect hair tangled as he rested by a flock of importunate fairies was delightful. And seeing the expensive acromantula silk robe get grubby and torn was a sheer delight. Bruised, battered, tousled and incandescent with fury to find that his wand only whimpered, quivered, and fell over limply in the labyrinth frightened Lucius more than anything else; like most wizards, he relied on his wand.
Had he tried wandless magic, he would have found himself rewarded by being able to use it, but he did not think of it.
And so, he was in the position any muggle might have been.
Jareth thought it highly amusing.
His delight was enhanced when Lucius, too paranoid to apparate over the Bog of Eternal Stench, slipped on one of the stepping stones and fell, breaking a couple of ribs on the next stone and soaking the hems of his robes in the vile and loathesome contents of the bog. Lucius cut away as much of the robe as he could; being a traditionalist, he did not wear anything under his robes.
"Behold, the full moon," said Jareth, to Sarah.
Sarah had been filled in on what Lucius was capable of, so she did not waste her breathe in sympathy. Jareth could be cruel; but she knew this, and accepted him as he was.
Meanwhile, Severus, perceiving that Quirrel was still breathing, cast mobilocorpus on him to take him to the hospital, where Poppy Pomfrey cried out in surprised horror to have an unconscious professor. Severus postulated core exhaustion as he had been going to visit Quirrel and had overheard what sounded like an argument and struggle, only to find Quirrel unconscious. Quirrel had half roused on the way, and Severus had demanded if he had been willingly possessed. Quirrel's reply had been in the form of a quote.
"' 'No!Never!' or maybe it was 'verily, my lord, I come,''" he moaned.
Being familiar with 'Lord of the Rings,' as well as having been the Dark Lord's servant, Severus could sympathise with the sentiment.
"But I don't understand," said Pomfrey.
"I have been coming to the conclusion that poor Quirinius has been possessed, as he has been displaying two different personalities," said Severus. "I believe he has had the strength of will to throw off the possession, and retrieve himself."
And such would Quirrel confirm, since Severus had skilfully manipulated his memory to that end.
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"Severus, I'm so disappointed in you; what have you done to Quirinius?" demanded Dumbledore, sweeping in.
"I brought him to Poppy; what was I supposed to do, leave him on the floor?" said Severus.
"What do you mean, Severus? Didn't you cause this situation?"
"I don't like the way you assume that I go around attacking my colleagues for no reason, Albus," said Severus, coldly. "Are you losing your grip? You may have a more tasteful wardrobe these days, but your beard looks positively... way out, as if you've been combing it when on something mind-altering."
"You... you found Quirinius as he is now?" asked Dumbledore.
"I came upon him as he collapsed after a wave of magic and having heard a lot of shouting. I believe he may have become possessed by something in Albania, and was managing to cast it out. His core is depleted if I'm reading Poppy's wand waving correctly, he exhausted himself getting free."
"Most... commendable of him," said Albus. "Are you sure you didn't help him?"
"I wouldn't know what to do," said Severus.
Albus was confused.
There should be no way that a weak wizard like Quirinius should be able to evict Tom Riddle from possessing him. It was incomprehensible!
"Well, well, hopefully Quirinius will be able to tell me all about it when he has recovered," said Dumbledore.
"I hope so," said Severus.
Dumbledore actually felt a moment's twinge of guilt for assuming that Severus had had anything to do with Quirrel's condition. He did not, however, appreciate the comments on his horrible dull robes and the travesty of the Teasy-weezy beard.
And the spirit of Voldemort was now free and loose, and all his traps were for nothing!
Dumbledore stomped back to his bedroom to try to make his beard flow as it should in dignified length, rather than dividing in the middle and curling back on itself. As the enchantment to do this was on his brush, his efforts were in vain.
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Lucius gazed in horror at the MC Escher room of stairs. Jareth wandered along the corridor beneath him and swung over to confront him.
"No more... please..." groaned Lucius. "What have I done to rouse your ire? I have never defaulted on any payment."
"You let yourself be branded like any herdbeast," said Jareth. "I consider this an insult to my blood."
"I am not of goblin blood!" cried Lucius.
"Your family is part fae," said Jareth. "And goblins are just one small part of the fae, you know. No, you don't know, do you?"
"We have Veela blood," groaned Lucius.
"And house elf blood, when your great-grandfather transfigured an elf into a larger form in order to renew fae blood, and passed the ensuing child off as his barren wife's child," said Jareth. "He could just have asked for a fae wife; one would have been found who would have been faithful for the short time you mortals live. But now your core has been sorely tried I can easily usurp your brand to remove them from all the other sheeple who follow Tommy Riddle without needing to summon them here."
The pull on Lucius's arm was like nothing he had ever felt before, even under the dark lord's torture, and he screamed. Darkness was flowing into his arm from... somewhere, and it swelled, and blackened. And then Jareth laid some kind of globe on it, and the blackness was flying into that, and his arm reduced in size, and gradually the blackness went. He screamed once again as his own dark mark flowed out.
"You are cleansed," said Jareth. "However, you are also ignorant. You will remain here until you have learned; you are supposed to be good at ancient runes, you shall have books. And a clean robe; you stink."
He waved his hand, lazily, and Lucius found himself in an oubliette, in a clean, but somewhat scratchy woollen robe like that of monks, in a sparse but basically furnished room, with a narrow cot for sleeping and a big desk piled with books in scripts he was only just familiar with.
He groaned.
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Meanwhile, Sirius Black had been retrieved from Azkhaban, and had been questioned under Veritaserum, and was about to be tried. Dumbledore had no desire for this to happen, but every time he approached his flue to floo to the Ministry, he remembered that he needed the toilet first.
Glassi had been very busy with his runes.
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.A free Sirius Black was also summoned to Gringotts and found himself a guest of Jareth's, with healing provided. And he would stay there until he was ready to accept that Harry had been helped by his childhood rival.
Jareth did not mistake compassion for being soft.
"But it's Snivellus! He's greasy and evil,"whined Sirius.
"I think you're making some assumptions on a little boy who was too poor to be well-dressed, abused, unable to buy decent hair care and cleansing products, refused treatment by St Mungo's for greasy scalp and bad teeth because he was half-bred," said Jareth. "You pure-breds! You're just like Lucius Malfoy!"
Sirius got angry.
"Now, look here!" he said, getting up, pugnaciously.
"No, little boy, you look here," said Jareth. "Lord Prince did me a signal service in both helping to rescue my niece, and your godson, who is, via less direct means, my nephew. My family owes him two life debts. You, as godfather, have the right to see your godson but I will not have you upsetting someone I call friend. Who now has straight teeth, and the skin problem sorted out, if you are so superficial as to go on physical appearances," he added, having made sure that such things happened for Severus, through goblin healing. "What's more, Harry has a soul-bond with my niece, so you'll have to accept her, too, or he will reject you."
"At his age?" scoffed Sirius.
"She's older than him, and it initiated when she first saw him," said Jareth. "She was stuck in the instinctive animagus form as a post owl – it's a form our family takes readily – and she initiated contact with Severus to get aid for both of them, seeing how he was beaten and treated like some people treat their house elves." He fixed Sirius with a piercing gaze. "Usually the older pure bloods."
"Oh, some of them are disgraceful," said Sirius. "The measure of a man is in how he treats his underlings." He scowled at Jareth.
"Yes, I'm rude to Hoggle," said Jareth. "We grew up together; he's been one of the closest people I have to having a friend, you humans are so transient. I'm a fool to make a friend of Severus, I shall lose him in a hundred years or so."
Sirius gaped.
What Jareth was suddenly started coming home to him.
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Dumbledore was getting ready to weep. His bladder was not so strong these days and he had hurried away from the great hall and the horribly farting chair, which did not respond to any kind of finishing spell, though a ritual had reduced the noise. He could have sworn there were male toilets on the way to his office, where he had his own bathroom suite... but none were visible, and he could not find his way back to his tower. He had no idea that there were specific repelling charms on the toilet doors targeting anyone who included the names 'Albus, Percival, Brian, Wulfric' in their persona names. He kept walking past the entrance to his office, because of the illusory wall covering the gargoyles which guarded it, which merged back into the real wall. It was a clever piece of maze magic which Harry was vindictive enough to have enacted after the headmaster had left his office – he had a crystal scrying ball to see where Dumbledore was – to surreptitiously clear the throne of enchantments. He had almost added diuretics to Dumbledore's tea; but that would have been too much.
Watching, he took pity on the old man, and permitted him to catch a glimpse of the gargoyles as though down a passageway.
He did not want the headmaster to wet himself; that was too much.
Dumbledore, replete in the satisfaction of having gained the haven of his own bathroom would have told him it was a damned close run thing, had he been familiar with the idiom of the illustrious Duke of Wellington. As he was not, his thoughts ran more to 'thank Merlin, that was close.'
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1 Thanks, JannaKalderash!