Disclaimer: Still not the owner of Harry Potter sadly. JK Rowling is.
Wrixel: Thank you for the review ! Glad to know you find it interesting, and I hope that you'll keep reading to know what's coming next.
Johnmonty: Again ?! Oh well, let's get down to it. First, here's the chapter of the rituals. In the end of it, you'll be able to have a hint whether they worked or not. Let's hope they do. About wandless magic, I mean, if he trained he would probably be able to. You already saw him and know that he is able to transfer spells on his other hand. So technically he can, just never really needed to use it before as he was almost never beaten enough to loose his wand. But I agree that your idea would be really cool. I really love that thing that Dark Lord or bad guys in general do when they think they won: talk to themselves for an hour. Like, I don't know why, but instead of being scared of them, I always find it funny the way they gloat and everything, while telling ALL their plans and secrets to their worst ennemy. I also liked the scene with the carpet. That poor woman... Even though I'll admit I laughed a lot writing that scene back then. When it comes to golem, older Harry never really used that, generally using his elemental powers and his raw power to destroy his enemies. So you won't see him fight that way a lot. Young Harry though... Nah I won't spoil you, you'll see in time due. Then, about House Elves, I won't really talk a lot about them, but as you know yourself, they are quite powerful. And Manor Potter has a lot of them. I won't developp much, but just remember that information, you could find it interesting in around 16 chapters. Finally, Harry will be leaving Egypt... Now. And, he will travel. I won't always give a lot of details, sometimes just mentionning where he went and why, but he will travel. I like the way I wrote both Harrys later in the story, with one taking care of Hogwarts and growing up to be like the oldest, while the older one tries to take care of the world to prevent what happened in his time. For the rest... You'll see ! Thanks for the review, and good day to you !
Darthdylan: Thanks for the review. That really warms my heart to know people like my story. That's my first real fanfiction, and it's more of a training for me to see if I can write something consistent that I myself would enjoy to read. And with that kind of comments, I remember that I'm not writing a shitty story that has no sense, but something people can appreciate. So thanks, and I hope you'll like this chapters (and the next ones !).
That being said, that's the last chapter of "Harry trying to heal himself". After that, he'll start changing things. Again, you might (in fact i'm sure you will) find mistakes, as that is a translation of my story in French, and I'm far from being the best translator out here. But, as long as you understand what I'm trying to say, and can forget what's happening outside for even 5 minutes (if that's what it takes you to read my chapter) then, I won my bet. Thank you, everyone, for reading my story. Take care, and stay safe. Good chapter !
11/17/1991, 21H43, Asyut, Egypt:
A tired Harry let himself fall heavily onto his bed. He managed to entirely read the book on ancient rituals, and had retained three that had caught his attention.
The first, of course, was the one that would allow him to heal his core. To perform it, he would need a certain amount of blood from the magical creature of his choice. Of course, the more powerful the magic of the animal, the more effective the ritual would be.
He would also need his own blood to draw different runes on the ground. This wasn't an ingredient he was really worried about. After all, he had plenty of it. No, the one he was most worried about was the last one, the "sacrifice". He would have to sacrifice... his own core. Entirely.
What did that mean? It meant that if the ritual failed for any reason, he would permanently turn into a Muggle. This possibility terrified him more than he wanted to admit it. As a Muggle, he could do nothing but watch the wizarding world slowly drift towards its doom. At best, he could prepare his younger self for war. But that would not be enough. Evil had to be destroyed at its roots. And only he could do that.
Well, actually, any gifted wizard could do it. But from what he had seen in his timeline, no one was there to do so. And then, no one but himself could quench his thirst for vengeance. No, he was the only one who could do it.
The second ritual he had retained was a rather simple but useful ritual, and could be performed at the same time as the first. It allowed him to acquire "magical sight". This power was innate in some powerful witches and wizards, but unfortunately for Harry, he did not have this gift.
To obtain it, he simply had to draw certain runes on his body with the blood of a beast possessing the ability, then chant the words of the ritual until he fainted. This ritual could be performed at the same time as the first ritual for his core. So, having nothing to lose, he was not going to miss out.
The last one he had retained was a ritual offering the equivalent of a sixth sense. Alone, this power was of very little use, just like a magical sight in reality. But together, it would allow him to predict the spells that were about to be cast on him.
This would give him a considerable advantage in combat, as he would be able to predict the attacks aimed at him and retaliate accordingly. To perform this ritual, he would need, on a full moon night, to draw runes with his blood around him in a circular shape, then cast a spell three times in an ancient language.
This one was a little harder to set up than the second one, but he wanted to do it at the same time as the first two. Mainly to save time, but also because he didn't want to open his veins every week or keep bottles of his blood in his room for too long.
The other rituals didn't interest him. Either there were too many sacrifices to be made, or the reward was not worth the effort. He blew his nose as he remembered a ritual that would have allowed him to... tan. Nothing more.
"Okay, let's recap. I need blood from a magical beast that has magical sight, my own blood, learn a spell longer than my future, find out the date of the next full moon and learn the lyrics of the songs corresponding to each ritual... well, fuck me !" he grumbled as he sat down.
The first thing to do was to collect his blood and put it under a stasis spell. So he conjured up a bottle and enlarged it. He then summoned a funnel and placed his forearm, from which he had rolled up his sleeve, over the bottle. "Okay... Here goes nothing," he muttered as he cast a light cutting spell on his forearm.
11/18/1991, 08H12, Asyut, Egypt:
It was in situations like the one he was in the night before that Harry was very happy to have hundreds of potions of all kinds on him. This time, he was grateful to have a stock of blood replenishment potions.
In total, he had filled ten bottles of about one liter each. That should normally be enough for the three rituals. The second ritual leading him to faint, he would have to do the chant at the very end.
His goal for the day now was to gather information. The best magical beast for him would be the Basilisk. However, he did not have access to it. He would then have to fall back on a Dragon. It was the only other accessible species that possessed both powerful magic and the ability he was looking for.
But where could he find Dragons? He could buy blood, but finding a good seller would take too long. He would need to access a dragon himself, and the only place he knew of was the Romanian reserve where Ron's brother, Charlie Weasley, worked.
"It seems that a letter from the new Lord Potter is in order," he chuckled as he stood up. He deftly grabbed his civilian clothes and headed to the bathroom. Even if he could wash himself with spells, nothing beat the bliss of a real shower. It was on this thought that he stepped into the shower and cast a wandless spell to make the water flow.
He was proficient in the basics of wandless magic. It was a very difficult type of magic to master. So far, Harry had found it easier to cast spells with a wand. However, the ability to transfer spells, like Fiendyre, on his other hand, had saved his life more than once.
The man soaped himself, body and hair, and took the time to let his body rest. He knew he would have to put it to the test in the next few days. Rituals oblige. Even so, he hoped it wouldn't leave him lethargic for too long. None of the rituals he had chosen mentioned such a side effect. But as old Alastor used to say, "Constant Vigilance!".
Laughing as he remembered the old Auror's catchphrase, he got out of the shower and dried himself off. Then, grabbing his wand from the sink in front of him, he cast a cleaning spell on his clothes, put them on, and returned to his room.
Back in his room, he went to a small desk next to his bed, took a piece of parchment and a quill out of his bag, and began to write:
Dear Mr. Weasley,
My name is Hadrian Potter, and I am the new Lord Potter. Following complications in America, I have migrated here to England. I learned about young Harry's story here, and was able to connect with him after my arrival. I learned a lot of things, including the fact that his best friend's older brother worked at the Dragon Reserve in Romania. I would like to know if you would mind showing me around the reserve in the next few days (I am a big fan of magical beasts, and just behind hippogriffs, dragons are my favorite magical animals).
I look forward to hearing from you. If possible, keep my request to yourself. I have some problems to deal with on my side, and I would prefer to do so before revealing my presence to the public. If you don't believe my story, check with Gringotts, they can confirm it.
Sincerely,
Lord Potter
PS: If you are looking for me, I will be at the Leaky Cauldron. But, if you want to avoid the trip, just send your reply by owl.
Harry signed the letter and folded it. Once done, he walked around the room to gather his belongings and left the hotel, satisfied with his stay.
11/18/1991, 22H27, London, England:
"Whew! Finally back!" Harry exclaimed as he put his belongings down in his new room. He was back in England. This time, he would be temporarily residing at the Leaky Cauldron. The return had been much easier. With his trusty rug to take him everywhere, he had been able to return to the airport quickly. Once there, luck was on his side and he found a flight back the same day.
Once he arrived in his native country, he immediately went to Gringotts to inquire about the Potter properties. Apparently, he owned a manor. However, this one had been destroyed during the first war against Voldemort. Fortunately, with his vault overflowing with gold from the Potters' initial wealth, his investments, and Bellatrix's money, he could afford the renovations.
According to Griphook, these would take about a week, which was huge considering they lived in a magical world. On his way to the Leaky Cauldron, he took advantage of the fact that he was in Diagon Alley to do some shopping.
First, he had bought himself a broomstick. Flying had been an escape for him when things were going wrong. The wind in his hair, the feeling of freedom, the exhilarating speed... he was sincerely nostalgic for the forgotten sensations that flying gave him.
Above all, it would be useful for him to travel. He had also taken the opportunity to buy an owl. It was a magnificent half-brown, half-white owl with blue eyes. He had named her Hecate, in reference to the goddess of magic.
Once in his possession, he had sent Hecate on her first trip to carry his message to Charlie Weasley.
He only had one thing left to do, and that was to find out about the lunar cycle. He was able to obtain the information quite easily at Flourish and Blotts thanks to the book "The Cycles of the Moon and How to Recognize Them".
According to the book, the next full moon would be on November 21st. That was perfect. All he needed now was Charlie's invitation to visit him, and he would be ready.
Suddenly, as he was about to take the potions that allowed him to heal his core, he saw his new friend, Hecate, enter through the window with a carefully folded letter in her beak. She landed on the small perch next to his desk, and laid the letter down.
Harry quickly swallowed the potions and sat down at the desk. He gently stroked the animal: "Thank you, my dear. You were quick. I'll never understand how an owl can go all the way to Romania and then back to England in a matter of hours, but…Well anyway", he said smiling at the owl who raised her head haughtily, as if to say "You'll never know!".
Taking his eyes off the beautiful animal, he grabbed the letter, unfolded it and read aloud:
Dear Lord Potter,
You can't imagine how surprised I was when I saw your owl arrive. I understand the political ramifications of your arrival in Great Britain, and considering that I no longer reside in the country myself, it would be inappropriate to cause a scene.
I would be delighted to welcome you to the reserve tomorrow at 3 p.m. to show you around. Sharing my passion with others will never be a problem for me.
I remain at your disposal in case of unavailability. Otherwise, we will see each other tomorrow at 3 p.m. at the reserve. This letter will serve as a Portkey and will activate immediately at the indicated time, so you will only need to have it on you.
Sincerely,
Charlie Weasley
Harry gently placed the letter on the desk, sincerely happy with the man's response. He knew that he would probably have to make him forget about his visit, or at least use a confundus charm on him while he retrieved the dragon's blood. But, deep down, he was reassured to see that his goals were becoming more and more achievable.
He had his blood, learned the runes, the necessary spell and the chant on the plane, "Thank you Occlumency!", he thought. He had found the date of the full moon. Tomorrow he would retrieve the dragon's blood. He would only have to find a good location for the rituals, but he had an idea: the Shrieking Shack.
No one would find him there, and even if strange noises were heard, the villagers would associate this with the fact that the cabin was haunted.
"Good night Hecate," Harry whispered as he lay down, a part of him dreading the next day.
11/19/1991, 15H01, Dragon reserve, Romania:
"Hello ! Welcome to Romania!" exclaimed the second eldest Weasley as Harry landed.
"Thank you Mr. Weasley, it's a pleasure to meet you!" Harry replied warmly as he shook the ginger's hand. He was genuinely happy to see the man again.
It was the first real contact with someone he knew from his time, so Harry couldn't help but feel the nostalgia that washed over him at the sight of the redhead.
Even if, at the time, he had broken off all ties with the Weasleys, he had cherished his friendship with them. Charlie, in particular, had helped him and Ginny a lot, both for the wedding and to take care of the children. The other Weasleys, being themselves, either married and busy, or, for Fred, deceased, he was the only one they could count on.
"Come, let's start the tour!" Charlie declared before turning and heading down a sloping path. "You mentioned in your letter that you love dragons. Are you a magizoologist Lord Potter?"
"Don't feel the need to be too formal with me, Charlie. Your younger brother and little Harry seem to get along well from what he told me, so I don't mind," Harry lied. He knew that if Charlie told Ron about him, then his whole plan would be compromised, but he was counting on the boy's discretion.
"Are you sure? In that case Hadrian, are you a magizoologist?" repeated the Weasley. He had to admit, the man in front of him terrified him more than the dragons he took care of. Even if his magical aura was quite weak, his posture, his gaze, everything about him screamed "dangerous".
"No, my interest is purely personal," Harry said. "I was more like a bounty hunter in America. Still, I've always had an interest in fantastic beasts, and especially dragons. I guess their majestic presence, their size, and their beauty have always attracted me in a certain way. So when I heard that I could meet some, I jumped at the chance."
Harry almost wanted to congratulate himself on his acting. He was starting to believe it himself. Now, he would have to stay cordial with Charlie until he reached his goal: the Hungarian Horntail.
The duo delved deeper into the reserve and found themselves in a dense forest. The silence was almost total, only the birdsong could be heard. The visit had begun.
11/19/1991, 16H20, Dragon Reserve, Romania:
"And here is the last dragon in the reserve, as well as one of the most dangerous in the world: the Hungarian Horntail. This one is a female. Fortunately, she is asleep, otherwise we could not even dream of getting this close without getting attacked," Charlie explained.
Harry had played the game to the end. Throughout the visit, he had taken notes, acting as if he was interested. His acting was so good that he was starting to think that the Weasley would let him take the blood samples without even asking questions. They apparated several times, thus avoiding taking too long for the visit. The best part about it? Charlie had apparated him with him, which meant Harry's reserves were still at their maximum.
The dragon in front of him exuded the same aura as the one he had met in his fourth year. In fact, he was sure it was the same dragon.
Its black scales shimmered in the sun. He could still remember, even sixteen years later, the terror he had felt when he looked into those yellow eyes. Even now, as she slept peacefully, he felt a kind of latent fear.
The duo watched the dragon in silence, fascinated by its beauty and power. Charlie Weasley had taken the time to explain to Harry the routine of each dragon in the reserve. He had talked about their eating habits, their breeding methods, and their peculiarities. Harry had to admit that he had learned a lot today, even though he had no idea if any of this knowledge would ever be useful to him.
Concluding his notes, Harry put them in his pocket and looked up. "Thank you so much for everything Charlie. It was really fascinating. Can I ask you a favor? I would like to study dragon blood. I am far from being the greatest intellect on the subject, as you may have seen today. However, I recently read Albus Dumbledore's work and I was fascinated by the properties of their blood. Would you mind if I took a few samples from the Hungarian Horntail?"
Charlie took some time to think, scratching his head. "That depends. It's rather dangerous, and I wouldn't want to endanger the animal..." he explained calmly.
"Oh don't worry about that, I don't mean that in an arrogant way, but I'm pretty good at magic. And then, I'll only need a few liters, nothing more," Harry clarified, his hand slowly approaching his wand.
A Hungarian Horntail was immense, so a few liters represented almost nothing. Charlie lit up at the clarification of his new dragon-loving friend, and agreed: "If you can help me immobilize it, that should do it. Knowing the different uses of dragon blood, I thought you wanted a large amount, that's why I was worried."
Harry nodded, showing his understanding. "Don't worry. I wouldn't want to hurt the animal either. I'll deposit a thousand galleons in your vault as a thank you. And before you refuse, you don't have to keep it all. Use them to improve the living conditions of the dragons in the reserve if you wish."
The Weasley turned around, surprised by the new Lord Potter. He didn't really know the man. He had just been surprised to meet someone who shared the same last name as his youngest brother's best friend and his passion for dragons.
He first thought about rejecting the man's offered gift, before considering the proposal the man had made him. For sure, if he could use this budget for the reserve, that would be great.
Weighing the pros and cons, he finally accepted, thanking Harry profusely. The green-eyed wizard himself was satisfied. Even if he had to play a role, his enthusiasm was real. Simply, instead of being happy to see the dragons, he was happy to spend time with his old friend.
The fact that his mission had been a success was just a bonus.
11/19/1991, 19H10, Shrieking Shack, Hogsmeade:
Harry was very satisfied with his recent progress. In a short span of time, he had managed to gather all the information and objects necessary for his healing.
In total, he had collected seven liters of dragon blood. According to his calculations, this would be enough to draw all the runes. However, he had no room for error.
When he returned from the reserve, he stopped by Gringotts to request the transfer of galleons, then took a walk in Diagon Alley to restock his wardrobe. He really liked his military outfit, and it was very useful. However, it had its limits. On the days he would spend in the Muggle world, or when he would go to meetings with other Lords, he would not be able to wear this outfit. He had therefore bought a large quantity of clothes of various types, to the delight of the shopkeepers whose day he had just made.
Finally ready to set up the ritual, he transported everything to the Shrieking Shack. He knew that no one would come here before Sirius during Harry's third year. "Besides, I'll have to get him out of Azkaban. I suppose that as Lord Potter, I should be able to have the will's seal removed. That should reveal Pettigrew's guilt..." he growled. "Well, one thing at a time, first, tidying up."
The shack was still in the same dilapidated state as he remembered. The broken window panes let in the whistling wind, the furniture showed claw marks, and the floor creaked with every step, as if the ground was constantly about to collapse. Everything about the old house made him feel uneasy. The memories associated with it didn't help either.
He slowly entered the room, his wand raised in front of him. From his cloak, he took out the different bottles of shrunken blood, and placed them on the bedside table. It was the largest room, and once the destroyed piano was removed, he could start drawing the runes. Not right away, though. He had to wait for the next full moon. "Only two days left, or even one if you don't count today. Almost there!" he thought to himself.
11/21/1991, 23H32, Shrieking Shack, Hogsmeade:
A naked man, covered in runes drawn on his body with blood, sat in the middle of a runic circle. These runes were also made of the same substance. The moonlight reflected on his body, as he sang in an unknown language.
Harry had to admit that he would now be unable to tell the difference between dragon blood and his own on his body. Due to his desire to perform all three rituals at the same time, he found himself with many, many more runes to draw. But he didn't regret it for a second. Once he had finished preparing everything, he sat down in a meditation position in the middle of the circle, his wand resting on his legs, and began the recitation.
The day before, Harry had taken some rest. Since his return, he had been doing everything he could to heal. Once the preparation was complete, there was nothing left to do but wait.
He had taken advantage of this time to recharge his batteries, to revisit several places that had been destroyed during the war, and especially to send a letter to little Harry.
He knew anyway that his presence had probably reached the ears of the Ministry and Dumbledore. It was only a matter of time before he was summoned to the Wizengamot, if only to ask him to present himself and to know if he would be ready to assume his role as a Lord.
Harry didn't want that. He had thought about it, and he much preferred to be in the field than in the political seat. That's why he had contacted Harry. Once this concern was settled, he could take the three weeks before the holidays to form alliances and find a good person to play the role of regent.
In his letter to his younger self, he had written:
Dear Harry,
My name is Hadrian Potter, a Potter who, until recently, lived in America. Following certain attacks, we lost many members of our family, and I found myself in a situation similar to yours. I was looking for a place to settle down when I learned about your story, and especially the loneliness it has led to.
The Potter family in England had almost no contact with the one in America, so I only learned about your parents' death too late.
Upon arriving here, and following a magical test by the goblins, I was recognized as Lord Potter. Therefore, I am now your magical guardian.
That is why I would like to know if you would be interested in coming to live with me outside of school. If so, know that my door is open this winter. We will reside in your family's ancestral manor (yes, we are very rich Harry. You will see, I will show you around).
If you have any questions, please do not hesitate. I'm sorry that you've had to live this far thinking you were alone. If you give me the chance, I'll try to change that for you.
If you would like to talk to me before making your decision, then I would be happy to come to Hogwarts for a weekend in order to meet you. If necessary, specify it in a letter and we will find a day.
Take care of yourself Harry, I look forward to hearing from you!
Hadrian Potter
PS: Headmaster Dumbledore will probably try to dissuade you from coming with me. Don't let yourself be fooled. You will be safe, I can promise you. The manor's protections are almost unbreakable, and I'm pretty good with a wand, so you don't have to worry.
PPS: Please send me your reply with Hecate, my wonderful owl. She will know where to find me.
He hoped that his younger self would agree to come with him. But, knowing himself, he knew he was worrying unnecessarily. The boy, if he was like him, would do absolutely anything to leave the Dursleys' house.
Hecate had left immediately with the letter to Hogwarts. The next time he would see her, he should be back to his original power. At least, he hoped so.
The ritual was going well so far. With his blood flowing from his bruised fingers, he had drawn the runes for the last ritual, the one that would give him a "sixth sense". He grabbed his wand and began to chant the spell, pointing it at himself.
After a while, a blue light shot out of his wand and hit him in the chest. He had a strange feeling. He felt like he could hear magic, as if it had a voice.
He had felt this in the past, and more recently in Djara's Cave. But it had required great concentration, whereas here, everything seemed natural.
He repeated the process two more times, feeling his connection to the ambient magic grow with each time. Once the last spell was cast, he felt like he was one with the magic. He could feel its movements around him without even seeing them.
Taking this as a good sign, he moved on to the second and most dangerous ritual: the one that was supposed to repair his core.
He put his wand down and began to chant in the same ancient language as before. Only, this time, he was also compressing his cracked core, being careful not to make it explode.
A small pressure began to appear around him. It was very weak, and even if an adult wizard felt it, it would have little effect on him.
Pursuing his efforts, he continued his action until he felt his core was completely empty. He then moved on to the sacrifice part of the ritual.
Gritting his teeth in advance, he violently crushed his core, creating a strong shock wave that shook the shack. That's it. He couldn't go back now. His core had imploded for good.
He had no room for error. He resumed his chant, so worried about failing that he didn't even feel any pain.
After a few minutes, he began to feel something. Thanks to his new ability, he felt the ambient magic of the bloody runes converging towards him. "This is it!". He waited until he had gathered enough and began to shape his new core.
Dragon blood was very magical, especially since it came from a Hungarian Horntail. A small black sun began to form by accretion in the hollow of his stomach. He could feel the magic accumulating, and made sure to shape it properly.
The whole thing was actually like a sculptor's work. He had a decent amount of the initial material, and he had to carve it to get it to the desired shape.
He persevered in his efforts until the core's size exceeded that of his original core. "That makes sense," he thought. After all, a dragon's magic far exceeded that of a human's. He wondered what his limit would be.
Using his new ability to constantly check the stability of his body, he continued his sculpting work for nearly an hour. His core was now twice its original size. But unfortunately, he seemed to have reached his limit. He feared that if he continued, everything could become dangerous, even for him.
Harry, as excited as he was about his success, felt very tired. He had achieved almost all of his goals.
That's why, confident in his success, he decided to move on to the last step, and began to chant the words of the last ritual. He would have to do this until he fainted, which he thought wouldn't take long.
However, as he lost himself in the ancient chant, he felt the magic of his new core moving towards his eyes. He supposed that made sense, but he didn't remember that detail from the book. It could be a problem. Not having yet learned to fully master this new magical core, it could be... dangerous.
And unfortunately, he was right. He began to feel a horrible pain coming from inside his pupil. Even with his eyes closed, he felt like he could see everything that was happening around him.
Doing his best not to panic, he continued the chant, his body trembling. He was scared. The book had not indicated any pain for this ritual. The only painful ritual was normally the one to create the new core.
He tried to cut off the flow of magic, but could do nothing but slow it down. His head was spinning, his eyes were in excruciating pain, and he was losing control of his core.
Suddenly, his body tensed, and he opened his eyes abruptly. His senses were burning him, and, in pain, he slightly compressed his core. This usually allowed him to form a thin layer of magic around him to protect himself. However, his lack of control led him to make a mistake.
Everything around him turned white, his ears were ringing, and he felt like blood was running from his eyes.
"What in the burning hell is going on!" he shouted before the overload of his five senses caused him to lose consciousness.