Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. This version of Aleister Crowley, along with 1,083,092,867 others, was created by Kamachi Kazuma.
"Magic is the science and art of causing change to occur in conformity with Will."
–Magick in Theory and Practice, Aleister Crowley
Chapter 01: Getting to Know You
Part 1
"Hello, Elly," the boy said shyly. "You're very pretty. Have you come to take me away?"
"Take you away?" Elly repeated the boy's words, on autopilot, as she tried to buy time to think.
Clearly, we aren't in a physical place. She looked around. Composite scenery from vastly different places made up the landscape. Between a magical location, or a metaphysical one, I suppose the latter is a better fit. She looked back at the boy: small and skinny, a thin face, knobbly knees. He looks half-starved.
But before Harry could reply, a shrill voice pierced the air, and the landscape began to fade rapidly. Harry himself froze, like a deer in the headlights, and his previously hopeful expression turned into a mix of horror and despair, before he, too, vanished.
And the question of "if this is a dream, who is the dreamer" has been answered. Elly shook her head. Perhaps this is for the best. I still need to consolidate the information I received from absorbing the shade, and it would be better if I didn't need to deal with so many elements at once.
Although, it does bring into question what such an entity was doing in a young boy's mind. Experimentation? But…
A quick sift through the received memories showed no reference to Academy City.
A different form of magic. Espers apparently nonexistent. I am currently trapped in a mindscape, but I suspect that this is different to when Othinus remade the world through manipulating the phases. Elly mused to herself. Yes, this might be another world altogether. Isn't this the genre that my social media analytics concluded was popular among the youth? Mildly ironic, that.
A screen appeared in the white void, and Elly began to see through the eyes of her dreamer.
~~[a]~~
Aleister Crowley had never been the type to take action himself. Like a man of science performing an experiment, he preferred to coldly analyse the variables, then carefully alter the conditions in accordance to a greater plan.
It was so, that Elly did not say a single thing throughout the day.
But playing the game changes the rules, and by the time evening came, she was not very happy.
I suppose that's what being a father makes you. Or is it mother? No, definitely father. If someone had dared to treat Lilith this way…
But, an additional voice came from within her, you were responsible for worse, weren't you? The Child Errors were convenient test subjects. The Level Six Shift had you create twenty thousand sentient beings solely for the sake of–
Shut up. Elly told herself. And focus on what is at hand. She could deal with her conscience and internal consistency later. What was important now was her survival, or more accurately, the survival of her host.
From the screen she saw the boy silently stagger into the cupboard under the stairs, and saw him tumble into his own cot.
This time, she asserted control. After all, she had decorated the space to her leisure.
When Harry dreamed he now ended up in a room resembling a cozy Victorian study. There was a solid, polished mahogany desk, along with sturdy chairs and a sofa and a rug. Wooden shelves lined every surface of the walls, except for two spaces: an ever-burning fireplace to the side, and a section directly facing where Elly sat, which had numerous screens and displays familiar to one who had seen his room in the Windowless Building.
While Elly did not have perfect recall, unlike a certain grimoire library, the contents of the books did not fade. She chalked it up to the magic of this world being much more convenient, and resolved to investigate later.
"Who're you? Where am I? Is this a–"
"Yes, this is a dream, but that doesn't mean it isn't real." Elly said gently. "Hello, Harry Potter. Do you want to sit down?"
Harry sat down on the squashy sofa, and Elly sat down next to him. Staring into the boy's striking green eyes, Elly found herself at a loss on how to even begin. A memory that was not hers came to her: Tom Riddle's first interaction with Albus Dumbledore, and she resolved to not be as condescending as the old man was.
"Do you know what magic is, Harry?"
Harry nodded, but he said, "The Dursleys don't like to talk about freakish things like that. But I know."
"Good." Elly said approvingly. "So let me tell you: you can do magic."
"No." Harry's head drooped slightly. "No way."
"I know what you're thinking." Elly continued. "Your aunt and uncle bully you and push you around, and your cousin picks on you, and yet, if you have all of these hidden powers, why haven't you been able to fight back?"
Harry did not meet Elly's eyes, but he nodded.
"Well, that's because you don't know how to use them yet. And I can teach you."
Slowly, Harry's head began to rise. "Teach me?"
"Of course." Elly flashed a smile. She reached out a hand, and a ballpoint pen soared over from the desk and landed in her grip. Opening her palm, she made the item float and do a twirl.
It was a simple act, but the young boy was already hooked.
"Now you try." She handed it over, and Harry's face began to scrunch up in concentration.
I need time to go through all of Tom's memories, and see how much magic differs here. It seems to be powered mainly by incantations and thought, though ritual also exists. In any case, I doubt that there'll be any interference even if he does develop an Esper ability… Elly glanced back at Harry, and saw that he was on the verge of giving up. No, I need to step in now and reinforce his belief, though rightfully it should work regardless.
Reaching forward, Elly held both of Harry's hands with her own, hers underneath his. "You can do this. Here, since it's your first time, I'll give you a little help. Now, try again. Focus…" As soon as she saw Harry's face twist again, she applied a little magic of her own.
The pen began to tilt, one end off the surface of a skyward-facing palm.
"See, you're doing it already."
Harry's eyes opened, and the pen disappeared.
"I am! I–eh, where did it go?"
Elly smiled. "Look up."
The pen had embedded itself in the ceiling. With a little help from me, Elly added to herself.
"Good, now go and practice. There's several other things I can teach you, but you should become somewhat proficient with this first."
Harry quirked his head. "Proficient?"
"It means 'skilled at'." Elly answered patiently. "I want to talk to you more, but there's things I need to deal with first, especially if I'm to help you. So don't disturb me for a while, okay?"
"Okay."
~~[a]~~
The night passed, and morning came once more.
Harry, which was physically sleeping in his cupboard under the stairs, but metaphysically snoozing on a couch in Elly's study, jumped awake at the sound of Aunt Petunia's voice.
"HARRY! The breakfast!"
"Wait a minute." Elly said, noticing the child's distress. "Remember that whatever happens, I will be here. You understand that?"
Harry nodded, and appeared to calm down. "Thanks…uh…"
"Elly." The magician said, giving a pat to Harry on the head.
"…Elly." Harry finished, before vanishing.
On cue, Elly's biggest screen lit up, displaying visual input from Harry's eyes. From the speakers she could also hear what Harry heard.
Looking away, she went back to the several diaries strewn over her desk, the metaphysical representation of Tom Riddle's memories, which she had spent the night poring over.
(She hadn't felt the need to sleep, and supposed that she didn't need to.)
Human memory was complicated. All memories are of two kinds. The first is declarative memory: memories of facts and events, and that which can be put into words. Facts such as "the incantation of the Killing Curse is Avada Kedavra" and events such as "I made my first Horcrux with the death of Myrtle Warren" fell under this category.
The second is procedural memory: the things that you remember how to do that can't really be put into words, such as your ability to cast a spell or dodge curses in battle efficiently. In other words, the skills that came with practice.
Tom Riddle had left both types of memories behind. The first was a wealth of knowledge, and the second would probably be useful for Harry, given that he was apparently a subject of a prophecy, with his destined foe still not fully dead.
I don't believe in fate. Elly thought to herself. Nor destiny. But I highly doubt that it matters at this point, given what I've seen Tom's personality. He will definitely come after the boy again, at one point or another, and then–
"Elly?" Harry himself had not reappeared, but Elly could hear his voice clearly, like he was speaking while standing at her shoulder.
"Still here, Harry." She reassured him.
She went back to looking at magical theory, as understood by Tom Riddle, before a loud male voice roared.
"YOU'VE BURNT THE BACON, YOU IDIOT BOY!"
Elly's head instantly snapped upward, back towards the screen. There were a few moments of Harry's panicked apologies, before she felt pain blossom on her left upper arm.
Vernon had hit Harry with the frying pan.
To Elly the physical sensation was far-removed and distant. But Harry's anguish was clear and vivid, and she felt her own anger burn.
In an instant she stepped forward, becoming the main consciousness of the body. Small numbers like sparks scattered from her–from Harry's too-small palm, and then the fat man that looked like a walrus stepped back and roared in pain.
Spiritual Tripping – Frying Pan.
"You FREAK! How dare you!" In the background there was a frightened squeak from Aunt Petunia, mirrored by Dudley, but Vernon was closing in yet again.
More numbers scattered like sparks, and Elly held up Harry's hand, which now appeared to grip an invisible–
Spiritual Tripping – Clothing Iron.
Vernon recoiled backwards, clutching his hand as if it had been burnt, which of course, it had. There was another roar of anger.
"Elly! No!"
Harry?
There was a moment of disorientation as both consciousnesses grappled for control, and that was when Vernon struck.
Suddenly thrust back in her room, Elly swore as the screen cut to black. "Curse it."
She might have made things a lot more worse for her host, and she hoped that the magic of this world would be able to heal Harry's body.
There was a flicker of distortion, and then Harry's form appeared again, though with some haziness.
"Harry!" She immediately dashed over to him, looking him up and down. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
"I–I'm sorry, Elly." Harry's voice trembled slightly. "I know you were t–trying to help, but i–it's just–"
"If you fought back, you would be punished. Yes, I understand." She wrapped her ward in a tight hug, then stepped back. "Right, now we wait until you wake up again, and hope you're not too badly hurt. Then…then we'll figure a way out of this," Elly said firmly.
"They're going to lock me in the cupboard again." Harry said sadly.
"Then you'll just have to teleport out." Apparation had been one of magics known to Tom Riddle, and was apparently a common skill for wizards in this world. "And we can teach you how, if you don't know."
Elly's sheer certainty that everything could be resolved seemed to have calmed Harry down somewhat. "You know, I found myself on the roof once. After Dudley's gang was chasing me. I jumped, and then found myself besides the chimney of the school."
"Hmm, can you show me? I think I'll be able to see it if you just think about it at me."
Harry thought for a moment, and the memory appeared on the screen, though very much blurred. Through his eyes, Elly saw Harry duck behind a building, head towards a set of bins and a dead end, and then jump–which somehow cut to him looking over what Elly assumed to be a school compound.
"I thought it was the wind catching me mid-jump, but maybe it was magic?" Harry said hopefully.
"It probably was," Elly conceded. Now, how to approach this…
She did not know how to Apparate, though that was probably the method best for Harry. Teleportation–the Esper way–was theoretically possible, though she didn't want to force Harry's Personal Reality (if such a thing even existed in any familiar form) into any particular shape. And both of these methods had the risk of Harry teleporting into a wall, or leaving body parts behind.
The last, of course, drew on her prior knowledge of Kabbalah. Kefitzat Haderech, shortening the path. She really didn't want to have to resort to that, not while grappling with her own existence in an unfamiliar body.
"But it's still too risky. No, if you get locked up we'll pick the lock." Elly eventually concluded.
As she finished a ping seemed to echo through both their consciousnesses, and they both instinctively looked up and to the right. "Seems you can wake up now," Elly said.
"I'll do that."
As Harry came to he found himself back in his cupboard. There was dull, throbbing pain in his skull, which stemmed from a particularly nasty bruise.
We don't even know how long it has been.
Trying the door, Harry found it to be locked, and rattled it around.
"Try Alohomora," said Elly. "That's the Unlocking Charm."
"Huh?"
"Just tap your finger on it and say the word."
Harry did so, and nothing happened.
"Right, so it wasn't going to be that easy." Elly felt some despair seep in from her host, and stepped in to support him. "Right, so you remember the pen from last night."
She received a reply of affirmation, the mental equivalent of a nod.
"Now, you believed that you could lift it. You believed that you could do magic. You focused and you could do magic. Now, step back into that state…"
Another tap of the finger, another muttered incantation…and another, and another, and another…
"With time it becomes easier. But now, believe in me. Believe in yourself."
Was it her, or were the bookshelves rattling slightly?
Believe that you have the power to escape this hell. Believe that you can take destiny into your own hands.
"You have magic in you, Harry. All you need to do is–"
–call on it, and it will come.
"Alohomora." Harry's quiet voice seemed to be absorbed by the darkness of the cupboard, but the lock opened with a click and a soft grinding noise.
"I did it!" Harry immediately shouted, then clamped his hand over his mouth. "I did it, Elly!"
"That you did, Harry. That you did."
Throughout the process, Elly had been listening through Harry's ears, and found the house to be quiet. When she found the outside was dark as well, she surmised that another day had passed, and the occupants of the house were in bed.
Dumped in here without a care. Not that I expected anything less.
"Now what?" Harry whispered to himself.
"Now you close the cupboard door, and get yourself some food from the kitchen. Oh, and grab some paper from the printer and write this down–"
"What are these squiggly letters for?"
"To make sure the Dursleys won't suddenly wake up. Can you see them? Good, write them down. Then, think very hard about how you don't want people to come near here, and channel your magic into the paper."
The corner of the paper began to smoke, and Harry hurriedly patted it down.
"Right, that should work."
Five Hebrew letters, written in Harry's messy but legible penmanship.
Mem-Vav-Kaf-Lamed-Tau.
Malkuth, the tenth of the ten Sephirot, representing the Kingdom. Similar to Stiyl Magnus' use of the Othila rune back in Elly's old world, it could also be appropriated in a people-clearing field.
"Okay, now what?" When that was done, Harry made himself a sizeable ham sandwich (with extra ham and vegetables) and sat himself down at the dining table. Outside, the streetlamps lit the road in hues of orange.
"Now…well, it's up to you." Elly sighed to herself. "You can continue staying here. Or you could run away."
"But where would I go?"
"I imagine you could go to the police. With that bruise on your head and that mark on your arm, it's clear that you've been abused."
In Academy City, many students lived independently, so there was virtually no cases of domestic abuse, in terms of how Harry had experienced it. But with the children that had been abandoned and dumped in the city, or with those that had not conformed to the system, or with that had special powers that had been simply more convenient to be experimented on…
And you did nothing. Crowley's conscience seemed to eat at her. You let it happen, to foster a city full of darkness and battles to cultivate Imagine Breaker–
–Shut up. Shut up. Not now.
"Yeah, and I could show them how Uncle Vernon whips me with his belt, too." Harry added, almost too nonchalantly. "Elly?"
"Sorry." Elly replied. Though distracted, she caught the casual way in which Harry spoke, and although she had not had the most normal upbringing, she recognized dysfunction when she saw it. "Yes, I imagine Child Services, or whatever they're called, would take you under their protection."
And if not, she could learn how to do the Confundus Charm quickly, or manipulate another people-clearing field.
"So we're going to the police." Harry munched. "Okay."
"It's probably unwise of me to ask, but are you sure you're okay with this decision?"
"Yep. It'll be okay since you said so, right?"
"Harry…" Elly sighed to herself again. Well, at least they had magic. That had to count for something in their survival rate.
"Right?"
"I…I don't know, Harry. Not for sure."
"But you'll be here, so I'm sure it'll be fine."
Heavens forbid, Elly thought to herself. Not even a day and he's already this attached to me. I better find a way to make sure this doesn't backfire…somehow.
Harry finished his ham sandwich, and stood. Out of habit, he washed the plate and stacked it up to dry, before drying his hands. "Okay, let's go."
Well, here goes nothing. I should suggest he take some of his belongings…but it'll probably be less suspicious if he shows up as he is now.
And that was how Harry stepped out into the night air, into his new life.
Well, at least until he reached the edge of the garden, and a throbbing, crimson pulse went through the both of them, causing Harry to stumble in disorientation.
"What…I can't…"
Inside Harry's head, Elly began swearing under her breath.
Blood magic protection, right here, right now, somehow. Because Aleister Crowley never first succeeds without failure, right?
Welcome to the new Chapter 1. If you've been following (somehow) since last year, you'll probably have noticed that I uploaded and then removed a chapter. This was done because I wanted to focus more on Harry's life before he enters Hogwarts, and his early days with Elly.
Well, here goes nothing.
Review please!