Remnant Reincarnation Chapter 1
Hello everybody! It is I, Iskander Mandoraekon!
In this story, we find Harry Potter's fate changed dramatically during the events of his trial at the start of the Order of the Phoenix, where instead of Dumbledore arriving on time and getting Harry off of the bullshit charges with his influence, Dumbledore was confused by Fudge's attempt to change the hearing times. Harry ends up in Azkaban, where he is eventually murdered. The End?
No.
Harry receives the KonoSuba treatment from the ever lovely Manannán Mac Lir, who takes the form of Bazett Fraga McRemitz from Fate, and is sent off to fight the never ending war against Salem in Remnant.
I hope you guys enjoy the story.
I do not own Harry Potter or RWBY. Nay, those belong solely to the geniuses J.K. Rowling and Monyreak "Monty" Oum (may he rest in peace without worrying about what his successors did to his beloved series).
-Azkaban Prison; October 12, 1996-
Bundled in thick wool to ward against the cold, one of Azkaban's few guards pushed the slop bucket down the hall, delivering meals to the minimum-security block's prisoners.
"Up and at them!" The guard called out cheerfully, clanging his spoon against the bucket as he passed each door. "It's lunch time! Get your bowls ready for some grub!"
Eventually he arrived at the tenth door at the end of the block. The door that led to the cell holding the most infamous prisoner to be admitted in the last four years. Infamous in the fact that he was famous, yet he didn't deserve to be incarcerated here like the rest of Azkaban's inmates.
Using his foot, he opened the small slot in the base of the door and readied a large helping of the slop they fed prisoners, he fingered the pair of muggle chocolate bars he'd smuggled in his pocket to give the young prisoner. It was his, and several of his fellow guards, way of helping the kid against the despair-inducing aura of the Dementors.
The guard frowned when no bowl was placed at the door, nor did he hear any movement in the cell to suggest the sixteen-year-old was bringing his bowl to the door. "I need your bowl, Potter."
Still no answer.
In the growing silence, the guard couldn't help but shiver in the face of growing unease. "Potter, answer me if you can." Ignoring prison regulations, he fished his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door before opening it slightly to check on the usually polite prisoner. He'd never believed the bull shit the Ministry printed in the Daily Prophet about the boy even if he had been skeptical about the boy's warning that the Dark Lord was returning.
Who wouldn't be? Nobody was eager to entertain the idea that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was still alive.
"Oh gods…!" He swore, eyes widening as he stared into the cell. He paled to a ghostly white as his blood fled from his features, the reason why Harry failed to answer the lunch call became apparent.
The Boy-Who-Lived was hanging from the rafters.
Ratty bedsheets were wrapped tightly around the sixteen-year-old's neck and his feet were suspended a good two feet off the ground. The usually friendly if haunted green eyes of the last Potter were closed as he swayed on the end of the makeshift noose.
"MEDIC!" The guard screamed as he rushed to the boy and grabbed hold of his legs, frantically trying to lift the teenager up in order to get the pressure off his neck. "MEDIC! SOMEBODY BRING THE GODDAMNED MEDIC!"
It didn't take long for help to arrive, but to the distraught guard it felt like an eternity.
By the time his fellow guards charged into the cell in answer to his desperate call, it was too late.
The Boy-Who-Lived was dead.
It all started with the farce of a trial that Harry had been called to attend after saving his cousin from a Dementor in Little Whinging.
Harry's spirit had initially been high despite Minister Fudge's accusation in the belief that Dumbledore would be able to get him out of this predicament. Everything would be alright.
That is what he told himself. That is what he believed when he was led to the same chair, he'd seen Igor Karkaroff seated in from Dumbledore's memories by an Auror. It is what he continued to believe right up until the moment Fudge accused and sentenced him to Azkaban not just for the initial charges of underaged magic and breaking the Statute of Secrecy, but for sedition against the Ministry.
When Dumbledore finally arrived, it was at the sight of Harry being cuffed and escorted from the courtroom by a pair of Aurors, each holding an arm.
The moment they reached the entrance of the Ministry, Harry barely had time to watch his beloved wand be snapped before the Auror's side-apparated him away to a misty dock and he was loaded into a small, rickety boat.
A small ride later and he stepped foot in Azkaban for the first time in his life.
It was no longer just a place that had been vaguely mentioned by his godfather and the sods that branded Sirius as a deranged mass murderer. It was very real.
Even from the shore, Harry could feel the chill and despair caused by the Dementors.
An Auror holding each arm, Harry marched numbly down the corridor towards his new cell wondering where everything had gone wrong. Dumbledore had arrived to save the day… but had been too late to do anything. The boy's entire world collapsed when the Minister announced his punishment. Solitary confinement in Azkaban's minimum security.
"We're here." The Auror on the left, a balding middle-aged man with a grimace, said as he unlocked the cell door. "Try to keep your spirits up, kid. I'm sure this will all be cleared up in no time."
"You won't be here long." The other auror, a young woman just a few years older than Harry, agreed with her partner, pressing a chocolate frog into the boy's palm. "Dementors don't come down here as much as the rest of the prison so it shouldn't be too bad. Fudge will come to his senses…"
She didn't seem to fully believe her own words…
"Just try to keep your spirits up." The man advised again as the cell door slid shut.
Harry collapsed on his bed and buried his face in his hands. How had everything come to this?
Dumbledore grimaced as his gaze swept over the gathered Order. This day had not been good in the slightest and the boy that everything hinged upon had just been sentenced to Hell on Earth.
"I'm afraid that I come bearing terrible news." He started grimly as he looked around at everybody that had believed in his and Harry's words about Voldemort's return. "Due to Minister Fudge's trickery, I wasn't successful in helping Harry. Harry has been sent to Azkaban for sedition against the Ministry of Magic."
"WHAT?!" Sirius roared, surging to his feet in a clear rage, his fists slamming down on the table.
"No…" Molly moaned out.
"Harry…" Hermione's eyes teared up as she covered her mouth in shock.
Even Severus couldn't maintain his dour expression and was shocked for all to see.
"All is not lost." Dumbledore said, his voice gaining a bit of forced warmth as he tried to see the positive side of this horrible mess. "I've managed to get the Minister to agree to keep him in Minimum security rather than in the general population wing. He won't be bothered by the Dementors as much as the rest of the prisoners. I am working with Andromeda Tonks to overturn the Minister's verdict; we should be able to set Harry free soon."
Hope reappeared on many faces with the exception of the Marauders and Snape, with Sirius storming off, cursing anything related to Dumbledore and Cornelius Fudge. In his rage, he had no qualms blasting his mother's portrait with every dangerous curse he knew despite the risk of collapsing the house.
-Present Time-
Warden Alden McIntyre stood horrified as he joined the circle of guards around the body of their most famous prisoner.
This couldn't be happening! "Were there any indications that he was going to commit suicide?!" He demanded as he finally looked away from Harry Potter's corpse towards the guard that had been delivering that day's meal. They were going to be experiencing a shitstorm from the wide magical community for the death of Harry Potter.
They'd be lucky to have jobs at the end of this, especially if it was discovered that someone had taken the Boy-Who-Lived's life.
"Fuck suicide!" A guard that was squatting and examining the corpse snorted in disgust as he spit off to the side. "Look at the lad's wrists. What kind of person can tie his arms behind his back so tightly that his wrists bruise before he offs himself? And what kind removes the ropes after they're dead?"
The warden and guards grimaced. It was a good thing that the island only had one way on and one way off, and the shift change wasn't expected for another week. They had time to search the island for the killer.
"Send a message to Director Bones now." McIntyre ordered as he rubbed at his stubble. "And keep the island locked down until she gets here. No one leaves. Anyone caught trying is to be detained on the spot with extreme force if necessary."
A harrowing hour later, Amelia Bones ignored the sounds of Auror Tonks swearing while she examined the crime scene.
"Lad should never have been here in the first place." Rufus Scrimgeour scowled beside her as he examined the cooling corpse on the bed. He used his wand to move the boy's hands, taking note of the bloodied knuckles. "Looks like Potter got a few good shots in before he was hung. The bastard that did this is likely injured. We'll need to check all the guards' wands for healing spells."
"Dumbledore and his bloody games." She agreed without hesitation as she chanced a glance over at the celebrity's body, grimacing at his young age. He was in the same year as her niece Susan. For a moment she even saw her sixteen-year-old niece's image interposed over the dead Potter. "Fudge won't be remaining in office much longer once this gets out." Amelia turned when Auror Shacklebolt entered the room, a grim look dominating his usually jovial features. "Were you able to find anything?"
"There are faint portkey traces on the shoreline just outside the wards." The huge man replied with a scowl, his hands tightening into tight fists in his barely restrained anger. He had met the victim, even if for a short time, last year when he'd helped relocate Harry to Grimmauld Place. "Binks is working on tracing it though he's having difficulty."
"Why?"
"Whoever is responsible for this activated three dozen different portkeys at the same time to obscure their trail. Each one leads into a different direction, there are even some that Binks is sure are international from the magical residue."
"Inform me the moment you get a plausible lead." Amelia commanded with a scowl, Shacklebolt nodded and left the room. Pinching her nose, Amelia's eyes hardened as she rounded on Warden McIntyre. "How in the bloody hell did you let this happen?!"
"It shouldn't be possible." McIntyre growled; his fists clenched tightly at his sides. They'd never had a murder on the island before. Dementor-related deaths sure, even suicides, but never a murder. "Not without inside help."
"And that means you and the entire guard force will need to be investigated." Amelia scowled. "Auror Tonks! Quit swearing and round all the guards up for interrogation!"
"Yes mum!"
-Six hours later-
Amelia frowned as she considered the information she'd been given. They'd finally managed to trace most of the portkeys:
One arrived at Hogwarts.
Three arrived at the Ministry itself.
Seven arrived at various spots in the middle of nowhere.
A dozen portkeys to different spots in Diagon Alley.
One arrived at Malfoy Manor.
Two went to Godric's Hollow.
One portkey arrived at the Shrieking Shack.
One arrived in Edinburgh.
Five arrived in New York City.
Two arrived in Paris.
Three appeared in Berlin.
One went to Turin, Italy.
The two locations that most definitely stood out were Hogwarts and Malfoy manor. Even the Shrieking Shack which her team discovered had a secret tunnel that led out onto the Hogwarts grounds by the Whomping Willow. It'd be nice to have a bit more information before launching a raid, but she'd worked with less in the past. She put out the alert to get the tactical team together, this wasn't the time to take any chances.
Amelia watched with a satisfied smile as her team breached and tore down the wards around Malfoy Manor while setting up anti-apparition and anti-Floo wards, and stormed the house, emerging a few minutes later with the restrained and enraged Lucius Malfoy.
The Malfoy head had quite a few bruises around his face and the remains of what looked like his wand embedded in his hand, likely from her aurors seeking to disable him with extreme prejudice.
"You'll pay for this, Bones!" The Slytherin Alumni roared as he struggled against his bonds, veins popping on his forehead and his purple face giving his bruises an interesting new color. "I'll see you sacked and broken for this!"
"I have no doubt that the Minister will rush to your aid as soon as he finds out you've been arrested," Amelia agreed calmly, her level stare doing more to unnerve Lucius than if she had snapped back at him. "One of the many reasons we're keeping this quiet." She enjoyed the flash of shock and fear on the man's face just before her men slid am uncomfortably scratchy sack over his head. "Search the whole bloody place, tear the manor down if you have to!"
"Yes mum!" Her subordinates chorused before turning their attention back upon the manor.
If Director Bones had her way, this eyesore would be torn down and purged by the end of the week.
-Three hours later-
Amelia felt sick as she looked over the report of Lucius Malfoy's interrogation. The man had spilled everything under the personal attention of Alastor Moody and Scrimgeour; names, account numbers, and a list of crimes longer than she was tall all the way back to his time as a student at Hogwarts. Chief among them was the fact that Harry Potter had been telling the truth and Voldemort was still around, currently being based at the Nott family manor.
However, while the Dark Lord's return terrified her, it was the most recent among Lucius's crimes that had her attention, the crime of the bribe he'd paid to an off-duty guard at Azkaban and the Minister of Magic for the assassination of the imprisoned Boy-Who-Lived.
"I want Auror Willowby in irons!" Her subordinates scrambled to fulfill her order the moment she stepped into the room and roared her command.
"Willowby hasn't reported in for work." Her assistant reported nervously. "Not since yesterday, and he clocked out early."
"Did I ask for excuses?" Amelia asked, a dark gleam appearing in her eye that promised pain and suffering for any who failed her at this crucial time. "Or did I ask for results?"
"Right away, Madame Bones!"
Director Bones looked over at Scrimgeour and Shacklebolt. "The two of you are with me…"
It was certainly a sight to see when Amelia Bones stormed into the Minister's office with Rufus Scrimgeour and Kingsley Shacklebolt at her back, dragging the screaming and kicking forms of Minister Cornelius Fudge and his Undersecretary Delores Umbridge out into the Ministry forum.
Even more so, when she brushed aside the Minister's threats of sacking her and the politician found himself clapped in irons with his crime of being complicit in the murder of Harry Potter being declared loud and clear for everyone at the Ministry to hear.
Perhaps not her wisest move considering the already severely divided public opinion on the trial and imprisonment of the Potter heir that had been steadily growing more chaotic over the last year with the mass escape of Death Eaters from Azkaban last year and the growing attacks on half-bloods and muggleborns. The three Aurors had to struggle long and hard to get the Minister into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and into his cell before he could be ripped apart by the enraged mob that had begun demanding his head the moment his crime was known.
Harry Potter had been a national hero who had sacrificed much of his life and happiness for the Magical World since he was a year old. Fudge was just an up-jumped politician. One that had been making increasingly more and more poor choices.
Umbridge hadn't been so lucky, and Bones doubted she'd be able to find the trio of men that had smashed the self-entitled woman's head against the marble floor into a gory mess with how amped up the mob had been.
-Number 12, Grimmauld Place-
Dumbledore didn't say a word as the members of the Order filed into the room one by one. It had been so hard to get them to agree to come back after the debacle last year with that farce of a trial and his failure to save Harry over the following months.
He sighed when he saw that Ms. Granger and a few others had still refused his call. The young muggleborn witch had refused to have anything to do with the Order or Dumbledore since Harry's imprisonment and Dumbledore's continued failure to save her best friend. In fact, he was quite sure that Ms. Granger was planning to follow through with her threat of leaving Britain with her parents that she made at the end of year feast last year when it became quite apparent that Dumbledore hadn't saved Harry yet.
"What's this meeting about?" Remus asked coldly, after everyone had taken their seats. The werewolf had been one of the hardest to recall, especially after Sirius had left the country on a rampage to hunt down any connections the Dark Lord had.
The title of mass murderer was something Sirius could claim now with the amount of bodies he was leaving in his wake.
"Harry Potter is dead." Moody growled before Dumbledore could speak. "He was murdered yesterday by Auror Archibald Willowby at Azkaban."
Everybody gasped, hands flying to their mouths.
Dumbledore didn't question how the grizzled ex-Auror knew already. Anyone who'd been at the Ministry would have known by now.
"Early in the morning, yesterday. Auror Archibald Willowby, under the employ of Lucius Malfoy and Minister Cornelius Fudge, attacked and murdered Harry in his cell." Dumbledore informed the gathered Order members; his voice was deceptively calm while his knuckles were pale white from the pressure his hands were placing on his chair showed his true mood. "Director Bones has arrested both Lucius Malfoy and Minister Fudge for their part in Harry's assassination. She also attempted to arrest Delores Umbridge, but she was prevented by the mob that formed at the news of Harry's murder and Umbridge was murdered by members of the mob that tried to get a hold of the Minister."
"As of three hours ago, a full-scale riot has consumed the Ministry of Magic." Molly gasped at that news. Arthur and Percy were at the Ministry!
-Azkaban-
Harry looked up when the cell door banged open and he shivered at the look on the guard's face, this wasn't one of the usual guards.
"Got a message for you." The guard said cheerfully. Too cheerfully.
"What?" Harry asked nervously.
"The Malfoy family sends their regards." The man punctuated his statement with a punch to the boy's jaw and another to the nose. Every guard was forced to check their wand in when they arrived on the island and the wards ensured that they didn't bring a spare, meaning he had to do things the hard way. He didn't mind.
Weak arms rose to try warding off the blows reigning down on him and Harry swung blindly at his assailant, getting a growl of pain and annoyance before the man bashed the teenager's skull against the stone wall of the cell.
Daze and confused, Harry wasn't able to do much in his stunned state while his attacker grabbed the sheets from Harry's bed and began making a makeshift noose that he promptly wrapped around Harry's neck. Before the boy could fully fight back, his wrists were bound painfully behind his back by a length of rope.
The Auror sneered as he pulled tightly on the sheet, depriving Harry of oxygen. When Harry's struggles grew weaker, he yanked the boy up to his feet before throwing the other end of the sheets over the rafters and yanking at the other end, yanking the boy into the air.
Dead.
Harry was pretty sure that he had died. Talk about bad luck…
How did he die?
He was attacked and beaten in his cell by an Auror just ten minutes before the first meal of the day was supposed to happen. He'd put up a fight, managed to break his assailant's nose and he was pretty sure he heard a crack when he'd kicked the bastard's knee. But it had been for naught when the bastard bound his hands and hung him from the rotting rafters of his cell.
"Welcome… I am the Goddess Manannán mac Lir, it is both a pleasure and a sorrow to meet you, Harry Potter." A beautiful woman seated on a throne made of coral and shells across from him stated. Long red hair fell from her head to her feet that matched the crimson of her eyes, and she was dressed in a long, flowing white & blue dress that rippled like ocean waves. She had the aura of divinity to be sure, and she held a look of sorrow in her eyes as she looked at the recently murdered wizard.
His life was filled with too much bad luck.
"I am the ruler of Tuatha dé Danann, and the one who guides the souls of humans who died in the Celtic lands-"
"-are there other goddesses who control other regions, like France or Germany, or America?" Harry blurted out before he could stop himself, before shrugging off his embarrassment. He was already dead. He might as well see what the afterlife was going to be like for him.
Manannán nodded to his inquiry, not at all aggrieved by his interruption. She had ferried many souls to the afterlife, and she wasn't as vain as someone like her counterpart in Japan, Aqua. "Yes, there are. Those in the British Isles are subject to my domain, just as those born in Greece would be subject to Melinoe, and Freyja or Hel in the Norse lands."
"Anyway," okay maybe she was a little annoyed… "I'm sure you don't want to be dead-"
"Actually, I'm fine with being dead and going to the afterlife." Harry shrugged with a rueful smile. "My life wasn't all that gre-"
"Wait now, before you decide!" Manannán panicked a little as she reached out towards him, nearly jumping out of her seat, starting to sweat. "You are prime material for being sent to another world! Tall, handsome, heroic, so you really shouldn't do something so boring like going to the afterlife straight off the bat!"
Harry merely stared at the panicking goddess.
...
"Explain. Now."
"…I am also partially in charge of another world with humans. In that world, there is a terrible sorceress that is trying to annihilate all life after a mistake was caused by the two Gods supposed to be overseeing that world. We can't have humanity dying out there, so we decided that people like you need to be sent there to fight… since the people in that world refuse to be reborn out of trauma." Manannán explained, and after that she pointed at Harry. "There are weapons and magic and abilities in that world-"
"So… are my parents in the afterlife?"
"Gaaaaaah! Please, don't go into the afterlife, I have quotas to meet!" Manannán rushed from her seat towards Harry and grabbed his shoulders with tears in her eyes, lightly shaking the recently deceased boy. "Please don't go to the afterlife! So many people have been choosing to go to the afterlife! I'm sinking to the same level as that dunce Aqua!"
Harry just stared at her. "You do realize I'm just a normal person, right? Sure, I'm a wizard, but I wasn't really all that good at it…"
Manannán stopped crying and stared at him in a distinct deadpan. "…You've had a maniacal Dark Lord after your life since before you were even born, and you overcame or outright escaped several situations that would have killed a normal wizard of your world."
"…"
"You killed a thousand-year-old basilisk that Salazar Slytherin originally intended to act as a guard against muggle armies by yourself when you were twelve." Manannán started laying out, raising her fingers with each thing. "You overcame a horde of soul-eating Dementors, and a werewolf while protecting Sirius Black and others at thirteen. Solved a mystery that had been plaguing Hogwarts for a thousand years when you discovered the Chamber of Secrets. Defeated your Defense Professor who was possessed by Voldemort in your first year after fighting through and outwitting traps and challenges set by the brightest minds in Hogwarts to protect the Philosopher's Stone. Participated in a tournament at fourteen that had killed those older and more prepared than you, and even managed to achieve victory over those that should have had more experience than you."
Harry remained silent.
Manannán pointed at him, her eyes tearful. "That's why you have to do this, you're a natural born hero! And when you get reborn in other worlds you get to keep your body, and you can even pick a perk to take with you into the next life!" Before he could even speak, Manannán pulled out a catalog of different things that he could pick from to take with him, shoving it frantically in front of his face.
Skills.
Weapons.
Abilities.
When it seemed like he wasn't going to answer, the goddess got on her knees in a begging pose. "Don't you want a special ability and to be a Hero?! Save a world?! Riches, fame, glory, women…! You could have it-!"
"I don't care about any of that."
Manannán pouted silently at th-this aggravating wizard. She missed the old days where the warriors of old would have been more than happy to take her offer in order to help the gods. After a moment she decided to pull out her trump card. "…Your parents decided to get reborn into the world I'm trying to send you to."
"Sign me up." There was no hesitation in his answer. The afterlife meant nothing to him if his loved ones weren't there waiting for him. The catalogue was snatched from the goddess's hands before she could blink and Harry started leafing through it, looking at all the different equipment, abilities and skills that he could pick from.
After a moment passed, Harry tapped the picture of an armored figure. "I pick this one here."
Manannán blinked as she read the description. Huh, she didn't think the Blood Armor of Fafnir had been in there…
"Okay then… now then my beloved hero." Harry deadpanned when the goddess adopted a regal tone as she stood and spread her arms wide, little orbs of azure light beginning to dance around her. "It is time to begin your journey to defeat the Evil Witch."
The recently deceased wizard jumped in surprise when a magical circle appeared beneath his feet.
"It may take time for you to acclimate to your new world but stay true to your path and you shall obtain victory!"
Harry vanished.
Manannán smiled in victory as she proudly placed her hands on her hips. "There! Now I'm not in danger of falling to Aqua's pitiful level~!"
It was then that she looked down at a console attached to her throne and her jaw dropped.
…
Apparently, she forgot to change the settings from the last time she'd sent someone to another world…
Harry wouldn't arrive in that world with his body fully grown… but as a newborn…
W-Well… it was an understandable mistake… Manannán hadn't been able to send anybody through in over a decade…
Well. At least it will give him time to acclimate to the world of Remnant.
-Undisclosed Location; Remnant-
The pained grunts of a mother rang out in Harry's ears when he first started becoming aware of his surroundings, muffled yet close-by.
He could hear muffled words of assurance from wherever he was. Then as the tight feeling around his body was relieved, the cries of a newborn baby rang out. 'What the hell? Did that Goddess drop me in a hospital or something?' The cries die down as his eyes open to see a confusing sight. 'What. The. Hell?!'
When green eyes opened, Harry found himself looking up at a gilded ceiling and the face of a woman. She was gigantic in Harry's eyes and wore an outfit similar to a nurse. Oh? She was speaking, though not to him. Odd.
Odder still was when this giant picked him up. He couldn't bring himself to do more than squirm slightly in her grip. She didn't seem like she was going to eat him.
That was when the woman turned him, and he found himself looking at two other people. A man and a woman.
The man was tall and rather muscular, towering over both the woman on the bed and the nurse holding Harry. His skin was a deep tan, and he had strong, aristocratic facial features. Silver-grey hair tumbled down his back in spiky waves and yellow eyes peered out from behind his bangs. Oddly enough, there was a pair of animal ears sticking out the top of his hair. Wolf ears.
The woman, who was slick with sweat and dressed in a hospital gown, was rather beautiful. She had bright green eyes that were obscured by a pair of glasses and her blonde hair looked like it had been sprinkled with gold dust. She was well-endowed in the chest area as well. The woman was looking at him with love and happiness.
He then remembered hearing the cries of an infant before he'd opened his eyes. 'Where's the baby?' The wizard wondered as he tried looking around but found it hard to do when his head remained in place by whatever was wrapped around him. When Harry decided to finally speak up and ask these giants where he was, the babble of a baby was heard, and the Boy-Who-Lived froze in an instant.
T-That G-Goddess…
S-She didn't…!
'Am I the baby?!'
What the HELL?! Didn't she say that he'd arrive in his own body?! Why was he a baby, then?!
The adults started looking concerned when they noticed the baby seemingly beginning to hyperventilate and squirm in its blanket. They seemed to be worried, the woman asking the nurse if something was wrong with him.
Why was he a baby?!
If he was a newborn, then how was he even conscious?!
Was he supposed to be acting like a baby?! How does one act like a baby?!
Most of all! Where. The. Hell. Was. Manannán?!
The blonde woman that Harry assumed was his new mother took him into her arms, cradling him with the all the care one would expect a mother to their child. The situation was so confusing to be treated as a mere babe after sixteen years of life. 'What the Hell…?'
Harry conked out, his tiny eyelids sliding closed while the man cupped his head with his large palm, both new parents worried but happy for the newborn.
And that's a wrap.
For your information, yes Harry's chosen ability, the Blood Armor of Fafnr, is the Noble Phantasm of Siegfried from Fate/Apocrypha.
His parents will be introduced properly in the next chapter.
Until next time, Iskander Mandoraekon signing off!