Not sure if I'll continue this or not. It's not even begun on where I want to take it, but I am running out of steam to prosecute it, and I am a bad boy about abandoning stories when I've lost my interest in them.
I think I'll just call it good with this and consider that my contribution for the year.
Reflections Through Time
Chapter Three
by Lionheart
AuthorÆs Rant:
Time travel is really my favorite Harry Potter genre. However I get so annoyed by so many authors who send him back and fail to make any substantive use out of all those many glorious opportunities he had in the years before Hogwarts, glossing over them with a quick ôOh, and he had a childhood,ö or dropping him at the start of some school year.
In my opinion, it is the NON-school periods that have the most potential use. The times when he didnÆt do anything are the perfect moments to use for something else, even if it is just to get ahead on his schoolwork.
And frankly, letÆs be honest about it, Harry is way underpowered for the type of threats he typically faces. He canÆt depend upon luck or a last minute save forever. The sooner he starts adjusting his power level upward the happier heÆll be. However, I favor time travel fics mostly because in the official series, itÆs already far too late.
At last I came to the conclusion that if I wanted a story done up the way IÆd really like there was no alternative but for me to write it. IÆd tried to go only halfway by suggesting ideas to some of my favorite authors, but they had their own ideas and used only a couple of mine. However, some of the things you will see in this fic you may have seen before in other stories, despite the fact that they were mine to begin with.
Disclaimer: If you want to find the owner of the copyrighted material herein, you wonÆt do it on a fansite. They get paid for their work.
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His parents were still students, Harry learned. Not long out of Hogwarts themselves, both had elected to continue their education, James as a curse-breaker, of all things, and Lily as a Healer. Though, in the end, it made little enough of a difference, as both helped each other with studies every evening once the summer break was over, and so consequently were learning each otherÆs materials as well as their own.
Sirius was in auror training, and most nights he stopped by to join this study group, adding his material and picking up theirs as they traded homework assignments back and forth, with anecdotes and notes from the various lectures.
In shouldering this triple load of course work, they proved they were geniuses, as the child and ghosts silently observing them sometimes had trouble following the work, and Harry had two years plus a month or so of auror training himself.
Another owl-order, and Hermione had secreted auto-notes quills around the room to record these study sessions, taking notes on everything said so they could catch up during the day on this advanced material all of them were curious about.
Remus also stopped in, but not as often. Apparently it was not widely known that he was a werewolf yet. That it had stayed a secret this long surprised Harry, whoÆd thought more or less everyone knew. But evidently that was not the case, and the third Marauder was also in an auror training program, this one designed for producing a quick supply of cut-rate troops to throw into the war, replacing losses as fast as possible.
The ghosts and Harry were shocked, just shocked, to learn that Remus had grades that trailed behind his friends significantly, and couldnÆt qualify for the full-auror course that Sirius had undertaken.
Ginny and Hermione had both sputtered over learning that their best DADA teacher had the poorest grades of any of the adults in the room, until Luna had quietly mentioned in her distracted way that he had less time to study each month.
One of these early visits Peter stopped by, and from comments overheard the unobtrusive listeners concluded that Pettigrew had scored a low paying job as a clerk with the Ministry and was apparently satisfied with his lot in life.
Appearances can be deceiving.
Lingering on after one of these visits, Peter went to a cupboard where Hermione had secreted one of her note-taking pens. ôAha,ö the man proclaimed, drawing out the stack of papers. ôLittle Lily has been taking notes on her own lectures, has she? Interesting. How fortunate for Peter that he overheard you scratching, my little friend.ö Making a copy of those notes, the traitor returned them to their cupboard, closing the door. As he was stuffing those copies into his jacket, on his way to the floo where James and Lily were presently seeing the others off, they heard the rat man mutter to himself, ôI must see if Severus is still in the market for James and LilyÆs notes. He paid quite well for them before.ö
Stunned, simply stunned, Harry was unable to respond. It wasnÆt until HermioneÆs speculation, ôWell, we knew he was a traitor. People rarely do that in one great big step. They tend to do lots of little things before committing the big mistake that damns them.ö
Luna had tugged those notes out of PeterÆs pocket as heÆd disappeared into the fire, and the pages settled onto the wood after the horrible man had vanished, crisping up into balls of flaky ash as the fire stopped being green.
On future visits, theyÆd piece together enough comments, from everyone else and from Peter, to learn some surprising things (in between stopping Peter from stealing from the Potters). Snape had passed Potions with a LOWER grade than any of the Marauders, sans Pettigrew, who had equaled his Acceptable.
From listening to Peter and piecing together what he said, they could only conclude that SnapeÆs æresearchÆ recorded in those Half-Blood Prince memoirs was actually stolen bit by bit, a compiled record of secrets heÆd bought or copied during school.
Somehow, none of them could bring themselves to be surprised.
ôYou know, it makes sense in a way,ö Ginny speculated. ôHarry told us that book was just another old textbook shoved in the back under an old counter. If it had really been that precious it wouldÆve been in SnapeÆs room, or if heÆd really been working out of it he wouldnÆt have left it behind in that classroom when Slughorn took over Potions and Snape moved over to teaching DADA. But if it was just a compiled copy of other peopleÆs notes, then he could very easily have compiled those again, possibly with other stolen notes, into a larger empty book to use every day. ThatÆs the only way I could see the original getting shoved in some odd, forgotten corner, the way it was found.ö
None of them had a better theory, so for the moment just shrugged, accepting hers. And so they went on learning. Harry had a brilliant mind that the Dursleys had done everything they could to squash, and because of an ingrained fear of displaying too much intelligence at school (lest in his æshowing offÆ he outperform Dudley and get punished) heÆd never excelled at Hogwarts, doing all he could to try and fit in.
Well, look where that had gotten him, locked up in Azkaban.
As The Boy Who Lived, blending in was impossible. Worse, by trying heÆd left himself open to attacks that used his fame against him, like that reporter woman, Snape and assorted Ministers.
HarryÆd been so ignorant and trusting, way back then.
Of course, he was far from the only one practicing. Hermione beat Luna out on discovering their next æghost trickÆ by reading an account of a ghost that could create strange lights, and had promptly copied that power. After a brief sucking of HarryÆs suddenly cold and runny nose Hermione began experimenting with this very flexible radiance. At first, sheÆd intended merely to use it to read by, the light was quite bright, and the ones the Potters used were all magically controlled, turned on or off by wand flicks. So this could enable them to read to Harry when he woke up at night, or to catch up on their favorite subjects themselves while the rest of the household was sleeping.
However, the phosphorescence was far more adaptable than sheÆd at first realized. As the other two copied her new ability they experimented and discovered they could create a full range of colors, but only one at a time, and that they could shape the light into just about anything roughly man size or smaller. Those images were far from realistic, appearing as transparent, luminous figures that wouldnÆt fool anyone into thinking they were real, but not long after theyÆd discovered this art Lily burst into the room and caught them playing around with the new power.
Ginny had formed a golden glow into a petite lion, curled around the snoozing Harry. Hermione had been playing around with a phoenix, trying to get a mix of colors where she could make it seem aflame, but presently it was only orange. Luna, on the other hand, had formed a shockingly green copy of Matilda Marchbanks at lifesize and was experimenting with trying to get her laugh-lines precisely right.
Lily had been on her way to feed Harry when sheÆd spotted a distinct glow from the crack below the door to the nursery, and had burst in expecting trouble. She had in no way expected to be intruding upon so surreal a scene, and the lights vanished instantly upon her arrival, granting her only a glimpse of them before they snuffed out in shock.
Grabbing Harry, the mother of the infant rushed back to the master bedroom and woke her husband. ôJames! I just saw something in HarryÆs room!ö
ôWhat was it?ö
The man burst instantly to his feet, wand in hand. Lily could never understand how her beloved hubby could actually hear and comprehend her when he was asleep, but he could snore through a boring lesson and quote the whole thing at the end. It once drove their teachers batty, but it had gotten him passed History of Magic with the best grade in the school. Now it served him as an early alarm system, always alert for trouble even when asleep.
And, those few times sheÆd laid awake at night, confiding her troubles to her sleeping man, heÆd done his best to address those the next day. SheÆd been a whole year figuring that out before at last getting him to confess via a few faked tears.
ôThree forms,ö Lily gasped, she didnÆt startle easily and gave a decent description of what sheÆd seen. ôThree glowing creatures, all ghostly and transparent: a phoenix, a golden lion, and a woman we know, Matilda Marchbanks, only she was glowing green. They vanished the moment I entered the room.ö
ôWhat kind of green?ö James glanced down to make certain Harry was ok, and other than an abrupt awakening and feelings of hunger, he was just fine.
ôKilling curse green,ö Lily responded heavily.
Dressing in a single gesture, James strode downstairs and threw a handful of floo powder into the fireplace, bending over to duck beneath the mantle as he stepped into the green flames, declaring firmly, ôThe Marching Banks!ö
Lily waited an anxious half-hour for her husband to return, nursing Harry and fretting the entire time. When he did return, James had a fresh cut on his sleeve and a trickle of blood on that arm coming from a barely dodged curse. He was perky, and immediately went to hold his wife and explain what had occurred. He started out with the important stuff, as usual, ôNobody died, on our side that is, though Henry and his two oldest kids are going to St. MungoÆs, they did it on their feet and should recover fast. I went there to ask what was going on, but nothing seemed at all out of place at first. I felt awful for rolling the family out of bed like that, but they were nice about it, and didnÆt know anything about why HenryÆs wife would have been floating as a ghostly green image in HarryÆs room. I was about to put it all down to a prank, as their kids were already doing, when Henry did a routine check of the wards, seeing as how he was already up.ö
The Marauder swallowed, stroking his wifeÆs hair as he held her tight. ôThere were big gaps, holes cut out of their wards that didnÆt respond. At that point everyone grabbed their wands and started getting prepared, kids hunkering down behind furniture in the living room. Ghoul Grenades started coming in the windows of a few bedrooms. If theyÆd been asleep that wouldÆve been the end of them. The Death Eaters came in the front doors next, behind a wave of zombies. I kept turning the zombies into random junk; socks, discarded bottles, stuff like that, while animating the chairs and tables to fight in our defense.ö
Lily nodded wordlessly, not interrupting. James was a genius at Transfiguration, and using that imaginatively in battle was one of his specialties. Zombies could take enormous punishment from spell damage and keep on coming. One of the swiftest ways to stop them was to transform them into objects that couldnÆt move on their own, and random junk had an added difficulty for the Death Eaters following behind the first wave, in that they didnÆt know which of the objects laying around on the floor to transfigure back into their assault force.
Animated furniture was another specialty of her husbandÆs, and served most of the same purpose on the defensive as zombies did on offense: they were fairly hard to kill and every action spent stopping them from bludgeoning you to death was less attention you could spare to trading spells with the opposing wizards. James had also perfected the trick of getting his animated objects to leap in front of Killing Curses and the like, a trick that some members of the Order (including Dumbledore!) were trying to copy.
Some battles, the animated objects and zombies would get in each otherÆs way and more or less cancel out. But she could just see her husband removing the zombie threat as it passed through the front door, transformation spells taking them down as they entered in single file. Death Eaters relied on their zombies to take more punishment than that, and stood behind them as cover for protection while they sent off their own volleys of spells.
So going in without that advantage had probably been bad for them.
Even suffering post-battle stress, James had to grin, as if reading her thoughts. ôOne Prick-Eater even got caught in my animated welcome mat, just stepping right onto it and falling face-down in front of a potbellied stove that just stomped on his head. His skull turned to goo in one blow. It was sweet, IÆm going to have to recommend that to the others. I didnÆt even have to waste a spell on finishing that guy off.ö
James settled down off of the adrenalin rush and started to get into this story. ôSo, while the stove blew smoke in their eyes and crushed feet, breaking ankles because itÆs legs couldnÆt reach very high, the rug swarmed up one Prick-EaterÆs face and wrapped itself tight around his head. He couldnÆt speak to get a spell off, and the curtain rods tripped him up so he fell and the stove got a second kill. Can we get ourselves a stove, honey?ö
Lily didnÆt bother suppressing a giggle. ôSure, dear. WeÆll pick one up in the morning.ö
James nodded, feeling better. ôAnyway, while the curtains were blowing out in the way of their curses and the enemy were trying to spread out and get more room - stepping in my transfigured bear traps, by the way, Henry and I dropped two more of the first rank. Matilda summoned half of her kitchen utensils into the room, then banished them back out the front door, spearing forks and knives into the bad guys - too shallow to reach vital organs, but they decided to pop back out at that point, triggering portkeys. All told they lost half the raiding party in the first few seconds before spooking. I wish more battles could go that way. The survivors on their side will be too busy healing up to raid for another day or so, and a couple should take even longer. One got a fork stuck in his eye, and another left a foot behind in one of my bear traps. I was trying to convince Henry to get it turned into an umbrella stand, but his wife wouldnÆt stand for it, IÆm sure.ö
Lily sighed with relief, letting go of tension. The Marchbanks were good friends of the Longbottoms, and while not as close, still friends of the Potters and firm allies on the side of Light. It would have been a grievous blow to lose that family. Leaning her head against his shoulder, she began rubbing his chest. ôI wish I couldÆve been there. Matilda was probably frantic.ö
His cheery grin didnÆt conceal an intense stare. ôLily, you are the first witch IÆd choose to have at my side in any fight, but I was glad youÆd stayed behind here with Harry. If you were there our attackers wouldÆve have lost another two or three of their members, maybe none of that force wouldÆve gone home. You drop æem pretty quick, and I already know that youÆd have no trouble setting up an anti-portkey ward, so they probably all wouldÆve died, if we didnÆt take one or two for questioning. But you know what? I donÆt care. WeÆll get them anyway. And this way I donÆt have any nightmares about a curse that barely missed you.ö He made a face. ôIt just wouldnÆt be the same kissing you if you had frog lips or anything.ö
ôAre the Marchbanks going to be alright?ö Lily continued her rubbing of his chest.
James nodded firmly. ôYes, no problems. They didnÆt even really get scared. Ernie, their youngest? When theyÆd vanished his head popped from behind the couch where he and his sisters had been watching through the cracks, and the first thing out of his mouth was, ôThatÆs it? ThatÆs all there was?ö
Lily grimaced. Most battles lasted only seconds, with clear advantage obvious from the start. But that was no excuse to be a thrill seeker. That boy wouldÆve been singing a different tune if it had been their attackers winning the fight.
She spoke softly. ôIt wouldÆve been different if you hadnÆt been there, or if Henry hadnÆt chosen to check his wards.ö
There was a grim reality to the truth of her words. Even if the ghoul grenades hadnÆt gotten them all in their beds, there was a world of difference between walking into a ready (if hasty) defense and just storming a sleepy house. And her husbandÆs wand counted extra, more than most. Henry was a good man and a competent wizard, but while James hadnÆt said it, he hadnÆt had to. They both knew the man, and heÆd probably spent the entire time dueling in a more traditional manner, blocking spells and using counterspells, not dropping one opponent the entire time. Bless her heart, but his wife was the same. The house was surely more intact for them having blocked their fair share of incoming damage via counterspells, but James had been the one to drop their opponents and force them to flee in defeat and confusion.
ôEight wands in the attacking force, plus zombies and a leading wave of costly ghoul grenades, all arriving in the middle of a night against two adult wands for the defenders. That was supposed to be a slaughter,ö she whispered, musing on why so much got sent.
ôIt was!ö James agreed, enthusiastically, his energy undepleted by having woken up in the middle of the night and just having fought a battle. ôThe Pricks barely had anybody standing by the time they left, another two seconds and none of them wouldÆve made it out. And yes, I know you meant it was supposed to go the other way, or so theyÆd thought.ö
He shrugged and leaned further into his wife, musing aloud. ôTheir two oldest kids are Hogwarts students, and made a pretty good attempt at helping out, but the best they were throwing were Jelly Legs jinxes. When is Albus going to start getting a decent teacher to fill the DADA spot?ö
Lily shrugged, confirming in her mind that without James there their friends wouldÆve died, even if theyÆd had a warning. Aside from that volley of silverware at the end - most probably inspired by seeing James duel, the Marchbanks just werenÆt doing any damage to their foes by his report. In her estimate, if James hadnÆt been there four effective wand arms, plus a sheltering group of zombies, wouldÆve been sufficient for VoldemortÆs crew to take that house and slay the family without losses or using up expensive grenades.
SheÆd need to stop by and give them some instruction, but also see why the foe had used so much excessive force on a not terribly threatening family. Perhaps Matilda would know a good reason for the enemy to want her family dead so badly.
Dumbledore would surely want to know why theyÆd been targeted.
Harry and his ghostly friends, who had been listening in this whole time, conversing via telepathy to discuss things or clarify points, saw his parents had done sharing the details and were now moving on to necking, Harry allowed Ginny to slip him away to his crib, asking at the same time, ôWhat are ghoul grenades?ö
ôPotions derived from the foul essence of undead.ö Hermione answered with a grimace. ôWhen the vials shatter they spread forth a noxious cloud of fog, that doesnÆt last very long but destroys living flesh on touch. Getting caught in a blast will leave you looking like a dried out corpse in an instant of contact. TheyÆre very nasty weapons, but between his zombies and vampire followers, Voldemort has a steady supply of the key ingredients. They still wouldÆve cost him a small fortune to create, though. He didnÆt use too many during the second war. But then, he didnÆt really need to.ö
ôStill, it sounds like a way heÆd enjoy watching people die.ö
ôTrue, but they are very difficult to brew, and temperamental, so they require more time per potion than others that are also useful to him. So they are something of a luxury weapon. The expense probably wouldnÆt matter to him, but he had fewer potion masters during his second rise. Potion grades average much higher now than they do in the future.ö
ôSnape, no doubt.ö Harry groused.
ôI wouldnÆt be surprised.ö Ginny agreed with him.
ôI would have to agree, it does seem likely.ö Hermione conceded, watching HarryÆs face turn ever so slightly purple. While Ron was a tough subject for her, Snape was one for Harry, and for a multitude of reasons.
Meanwhile, HarryÆs thoughts were turning once more to that bastard of a teacher. It still hurt realizing that the guy could read minds, and so he KNEW that Harry wasnÆt seeking attention or glory for himself, that heÆd never been coddled or sought favoritism. That bastard knew, and didnÆt care. HeÆd said those things because theyÆd hurt Harry, and they were an excuse for the horrible teacher to bully him that other people could generally credit because in some quiet corner of their minds theyÆd fully expected Harry to be spoiled, as most magical families wouldÆve pampered him to death.
Most couldnÆt conceive of hurting him intentionally.
That he was willing to do so, to lie to hurt a child heÆd never met before, one innocent of any desire to harm him (until after substantial provocation), all because Snape hated a man whoÆd once saved his life, and a man whom Snape himself had done a significant part of sending to his and his wifeÆs death, and to KEEP doing it! To keep lying to hurt Harry, and hurt him just as much as he could get away with, over years and years...
That said more about the greasy haired manÆs character than anything else couldÆve.
Shaking himself free of those thoughts and resolving to think on happier things, the child turned his attention back to his friends and family whoÆd moved on to other topics of conversation, and inwardly made a choice.
As a baby looking back on his betrayal into Azkaban, and all of the mistakes and people that had led him there, Harry at last quietly concluded that being smart was the only thing that could save him. People like Voldemort and Dumbledore had other sorts of power only because they knew so much - all of their prestige and followers came later, after theyÆd proven they could do stuff alone, just with the knowledge in their heads and a few wand flicks.
He snickered at the thought of Hermione as a potential dark lord, deciding to tease her about it for a few weeks, but better her way than Ron WeasleyÆs. Being stupid and lazy was just asking to be a target: set up, used up, framed and discarded.
Like before.
Thus, Harry doubled his resolve to learn these subjects. Snape wasnÆt going to catch him unawares this time around. With a bit of luck, Harry thought he could even teach himself Potions and skip out on that murdering Death EaterÆs classes entirely. Luck was with him in one way, in that his parents both excelled at that subject and had lots of books on it.
And, as always, tomorrow came.
ôHoney, do you want to hear the latest?ö Lily asked as she came down to breakfast. ôDumbledore thinks that the raid last night was to acquire a hostage. Griselda Marchbanks is a formidable opponent and stark upright, preventing Voldemort from getting much influence in the Ministry. SheÆs HenryÆs great-great grandmother, or something. The lady gave Albus his NEWT tests, if you want an idea how old she is. Anyway, he feels this attack was not so much against Henry and Matilda as it was to weaken Griselda by their deaths, and possibly take the youngest hostage to see if blackmail could sway her should more threats fail to.ö
ôThat sounds like a move heÆd make,ö James agreed, sitting down to breakfast. ôAnd even if she didnÆt budge, or break with grief, some of those who saw what sheÆd gone through resisting Voldemort mightÆve buckled under similar pressure if he made threats to them, rather than suffer the same thing to befall their families.ö
What everyone in the room knew, even Harry, was that threatening families was a standard tactic of VoldemortÆs people, who used it at every opportunity.
ôHeÆs also coming over sometime tomorrow to see if he can discover why we saw her image in HarryÆs room at midnight, just before the attack.ö Lily concluded.
Three ghosts looked at each other, resolving to be elsewhere over that visit. They had too many unanswered questions about the Headmaster to relish a prospect of discovery by him, and he was far to canny about discovering faint magical traces not to recognize some ghosts, even invisible ones. Seeing the invisible had never stopped him before.
ôWhy did you choose to form that womanÆs image, anyway?ö Hermione pressed.
ôI was celebrating the anniversary of my great-auntÆs death with a picture balloon in her honor,ö said Luna, who was reading from a cookbook upside down.
Not the book, the ghost was upside down, standing on the ceiling. SheÆd taken to doing that alot of late.
Ginny elaborated for her. ôLunaÆs mother was Matilda MarchbankÆs sister. That was one of the lines nearly wiped out by VoldemortÆs first rise to power.ö
Hermione frowned, alert to incorrect grammar. ôI thought a great-aunt described a relationship meaning a person was your grandmotherÆs sister. A motherÆs sister would simply be an ordinary aunt.ö
ôShe weighed close to 400 pounds.ö Luna answered, playing with LilyÆs bangs. ôBut I think mother called her great because of her excellent Leprechaun and turtle soup.ö
ôShe cooked leprechauns?!?ö Hermione cried out in horror.
Lovegood fixed her with an odd gaze. ôNo, she fed her soup to Leprechauns and turtles.ö
Heedless of this invisible (and to them, inaudible) conversation, Lily went on, ôSo, have you got a babysitter for tonight?ö
James exuded confidence as he nodded. ôPeter will be handling it.ö
Lily grinned, unaware of the look of horror appearing on the faces of three ghosts and one baby. Harry, in desperation, started bawling at once and refused to be comforted. But his parents, though puzzled, had been planning this outing for weeks and when Peter arrived he assured them both that he would be alright and everything would be fine. The baby was just being colicky. It happened.
They should just enjoy the night out together theyÆd planned.
The moment they were out the door Peter threw a silencing charm on the terrified baby, banishing him off to his crib. Then, after feasting himself on what he could raid from the kitchen, came in to HarryÆs room and picked the boy up by the back of his shirt. ôSo, youÆre the little runt that James has been bragging about. He says you can fly.ö
Harry didnÆt like the awful grin that appeared in the ratÆs eyes as Peter waved him about, then opened the bedroom window.
They were two stories up.
ôLetÆs see, shall we?ö Peter dangled Harry outside the window into the dark night. In his baby body Harry was sure such a fall would kill him. He didnÆt have the bones or muscle structure to survive such an impact.
Thankfully, his ghosts would save him.
That was when their panic penetrated his own, and they communicated that theyÆd been bouncing off some kind of field around Peter, trying and failing to get to Harry all this time the rat had been upstairs.
ôHarry! Be careful! We canÆt get close to you!ö Hermione yelled.
The babyÆs eyes widened in fright as he examined his captor, noting the cheap, junk jewelry, realizing suddenly that Peter was surrounded by every kind of protective amulet and warding charm that he could beg, borrow, or (most likely) steal. Most of those were old, theyÆd never seen him without them, but some were new and one or more of those new ones must give protection against ghosts.
That meant his friends couldnÆt use their powers anywhere near the amazing rat man.
That meant he was going to die!
ôHarry, be calm!ö Hermione ordered, instructing him, ôMore than once youÆve almost blasted yourself off into space using bursts of accidental magic. You can do this!ö
It was do it or die, Harry realized, as his captor began tossing him up one handed to catch him again, arm stuck way out the window. At once Harry realized that Peter was drunk, that heÆd apparently found some booze in the kitchen and was even less competent than usual. Sooner or later he was going to miss a catch, and Harry would fall.
Sooner than he could think about it, Peter missed a hold and the baby went tumbling out of the traitorÆs grasp. Time stretched into a endless instant as he could see the panic in the rat manÆs eyes, to furtively grasp about for his wand (only to realize heÆd left it in the kitchen), and slowly get cut off from view by the windowframe as Harry descended.
Maybe, just maybe, Harry thought as he made his long descent, this could work out. Neville was dropped by his uncle out a window and he just bounced, proving that he had magic and wasnÆt a squib after all.
Then again, Hermione wasnÆt wrong. Harry HAD flung himself into the sky once or twice on bursts of accidental magic. HeÆd done it when he was sunbathing beside his mom. HeÆd even done it in his first life to get to a school roof and away from DudleyÆs gang!
On that instant, he decided to do it.
Though Harry didnÆt know this, magical tradition held that a new life force carried with it enormous magical potential left over from its creation. That was only a theory of course, but one based on the observation that young creatures, particularly immature witches and wizards, often achieved feats that no seasoned and educated adult would attempt.
However, it could also mean that their educational system sucked, but that wasnÆt a theory that made it into many textbooks.
HarryÆs panic was running high, and his body WAS flush with magic, and he had flown before, albeit briefly and in short bursts. Belief was also a major factor in magic, and already hundreds of witches and wizards on both sides had heard that young Harry could fly. James had been particularly proud of that fact and spread it far and wide.
Regardless, whatever embers may have been there, strewn by whatever means, got fanned into full flame by the emotional charge of HarryÆs approaching demise, and unlike most magical children who would have used such a burst to achieve momentary safety and release it, Harry, who had been concentrating on this effect, memorized the sensation of how he had achieved it, and his adult mind gave him control of it.
After flying clear of the wards on the house, he apparated to London, flew into the magical opera house past amazed security guards, and plunked himself down in his momÆs lap, interrupting the performance as cast and audience both stopped to stare at him.
There would be a Daily Prophet article, complete with photographs, the next day.
For once, Harry didnÆt mind.
After about fifteen minutes, the show resumed and Harry got treated to the last half of his very first opera, magical or not. His ghosts joined him fifteen minutes after his own arrival, so caught the same parts he did. TheyÆd apparently discovered they were able to sense him over long distances, and followed those sensations until they found him.
Luna also informed him that, as theyÆd been listening to his thoughts at the moment of his discovery, his ghostly girlfriends had also experienced the same sensations he had, and thus also knew how to fly.
She demonstrated, lifting herself up off the floor, but as she was a ghost this was hardly conclusive, seeing as how they could do that anyway.
Harry was a model infant for the remainder of the show, never making a fuss or misbehaving at all.
Once again, tomorrow came, and with it Dumbledore inspecting the house. The ghosts had carefully erased what signs of their presence they could, then left to visit a park for the day (or until Harry told them it was safe to return). Harry was on a leash, while James was laughing about the event to his buddies, unaware of how Pettigrew had endangered his sonÆs life, and simply thinking that his boy had missed his mother.
Upon his arrival, Dumbledore, eyes a twinkling, set about the house sniffing for clues in that old grandfatherly way he had. Baby Harry, who had only just achieved the most tenuous occlumency shields, shut his eyes and feigned sleep the whole time. Thankfully his mother carried him around in her arms, so he was able to hear what they said, and transmit that directly to his ghostly friends so they could overhear also.
Unfortunately, not much was said. Dumbledore chatted about the war news, asked for the opinions of HarryÆs parents on a topic or two, and for their take on certain people. It was far from the Master/Slave approach the Headmaster had used with Harry, but then he always sugarcoated that so even that didnÆt seem like that at the time.
Once he was done poking around for a few minutes, Dumbledore said the words they had been dreading, ôMy friends, are you aware that you are being haunted?ö
Instant, crushing despair struck Harry and his ghosts.
ôNo, Albus. What makes you say that?ö Lily pressed Harry closer to her bosom.
Though he could not see, Harry could easily imagine the twinkling grin on his old HeadmasterÆs face. ôOh, you see, it has an unusual touch, but the signs are really quite unmistakable that you have at least one ghost in residence.ö
ôWell, there are always books out, laying open,ö James mused.
ôAh,ö this time he could *hear* the twinkle! ôA most unusual ghost indeed. Very few are able to move objects. Indeed, Peeves is the only other one I know of. However, I mistrust a spirit that is unwilling to allow itself to be seen. More disturbing still is the fact that it has apparently absented itself, perhaps fearing my visit. Those two facts do not speak well of its intentions. Together, IÆm afraid this ghost might not be friendly to you. Voldemort is not above using the dead to spy for him. Therefore, with your permission, I will expand the wards around your home to protect you.ö
HarryÆs heart sunk down clear out of his chest as he heard his parents give that permission. His trio of ghostly girls started crying. He heard them over the link.
Ginny tried to perk them up by sharing that in one of her historical romance books there was a ghost that could create various illusions. Now illusions were some of the rarest of all forms of magic, being practically unknown and unheard of today, but Ginny had gotten the ability to create some a ghostly power.
But ever copying her on that didnÆt ease this tremendous blow. The ghosts were here for Harry, and being cut off from him was awful, worse than a return to Azkaban. But, no sooner did it happen than Hermione and Luna both stumbled over each other trying to suggest ways they could still be near him, read to him and help him.
It was at that awful moment that a television screen in a nearby muggle shop window flared to brilliant life and a familiar goddess stepped out of it.
ôUrd!ö all three ghost girls cried, flying over to her, their tears now mingled with relief.
To everyoneÆs surprise she smiled brilliantly back at them.
That stopped the spirit maidens short. ôUm, werenÆt you, like, upset last time?ö Ginny asked.
The goddess gave a negligent shrug, then casually explained. ôAs one of the Norns Fate is one of my areas of responsibility, and young Harry was, how was it that Thor put it?ö she touched her chin in thought, then snapped her fingers. ôFateÆs whipping boy! ThatÆs how he put it. Occasionally we get a glitch where that happens, and I was feeling guilty just being around the boy. But so far you three have done a nice job at reversing that, which leads me to why I am here.ö
Assuming a more formal pose, she gave the trio a half-bow. ôHermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, you have been deemed worthy due to your pure hearts, manifested in your selfless dedication to serving others. I am very pleased to inform you that I am here to grant you each one wish.ö
ôPure what?ö Luna asked.
Her answer was a curiously lifted eyebrow.
ôOur hearts are pure what?ö Luna repeated. During the interval since the goddess had last seen her, Lovegood had arranged her ghostly intestines into a turban she was now wearing.
Urd laughed, then leaned forward teasing, ôIf you want to know the specifics, that will be your wish. Otherwise youÆll have to deal with the summary, which is: pure goodness.ö
ôIs it sticky?ö Luna continued asking.
ôNo,ö Urd paused thoughtfully. ôThough sometimes I wish it were so.ö
ôWish for us to be able to rejoin Harry!ö Ginny blurted, unable to restrain herself.
Hermione shook her head, furiously scribbling on a scrap of paper with a half a pencil that had been lying around, lip bit between her teeth as she thought hard and fast.
ôHow did Harry become FateÆs whipping boy?ö Lovegood asked of the goddess.
Urd shrugged, her present happiness undimmed by the question as there was no hint of blame in the mind of the girl asking it. ôYggdrassil, the World Tree System that runs the universe, often gets bugs in it. They cause things that arenÆt supposed to happen, like electing a moron for an American President, or assigning way too much grief and pain for one mortal to receive. Trials and tribulations are part of the whole mortal setup, without them youÆd stagnate and wouldnÆt achieve the purpose you were created for. But Harry got, here let me check the figures,ö the goddess opened a small device and read the screen. ôHere it is, Harry got about thirty times more adversity in his life than normal maximums permit. ItÆs a real tribute to the innate beauty of his spirit that he didnÆt crack, to be honest.ö
Watching the goddess close her device and stow it, Luna nodded as if agreeing. ôAnd how are these bugs resolved?ö
Urd blinked at her twice, suspecting something, and sprouted a large smile. ôThatÆs a nice thing to ask. YouÆre about to wish for the bug causing HarryÆs life to go insane with trials and problems to be removed, arenÆt you? ThatÆs sweet. ThatÆs the kind of thing a girl with a pure heart does wish for, and about the only thing that makes this job worthwhile. Okay, my sisters and I, the Norns, are system debuggers. WeÆve got powers that enable us to seek out and destroy system bugs, correcting their detrimental effects on Yggdrassil. But things have been kind of hectic of late, and bugs have been running out of control. So, you want me to go find the one thatÆs been heaping bad luck on the boy you love?ö
Urd began rolling up her sleeves, until Luna shook her head no.
ôI wish for the Norns to have perfect control of all of their goddess powers from this moment forward and for all eternity.ö Luna continued calmly.
Urd had a moment to look stunned before her head threw itself back and the energy beam of a divine data transmission got sent out to interface with HeavenÆs secure system.
ôWish... approved,ö Urd squeaked out, sinking down to her knees in shock.
Luna began to braid the goddessÆ hair for her, and explained. ôYou see, this way I believe the suffering of the whole world will reduce, as well as HarryÆs. Since you three will be able to control the bugs more readily than you have done.ö
Urd opened and closed her jaw several times, acting out a fair impression of a koi.
ôSo... HarryÆs life will get better now?ö Ginny ventured to guess.
ôItÆs still going to take a while to reduce the backlog,ö Urd dazedly muttered, before an excited Hermione thrust her scrap of paper into her face.
ôHere! This is what I wish for?ö
ôA sale at Nordstroms?ö Urd read the flyer.
ôNo!ö panicking, the ghost turned the sheet over to where the goddess could read her tightly packed tracks composed of thin lines of pencil writing.
ôNew bodies? Are you sure?ö The platinum haired beauty raised her eyes from skimming the wish to glance at the wish receiver.
ôI want all of us to be alive.ö Hermione explained, panting in her excitement. ôAnd I wouldnÆt mind being prettier... Oh! ItÆs all spelled out in there! IÆve been working on what IÆd wish for for months and months in case this ever happened to me.ö
ôI hate to be the one to break this to you, kiddo, but Heaven and lawyers donÆt mix very well. Trying to cover everything in ultra-specific detail is often worse than the most careless off the cuff wish.ö Urd glanced up over the flyer, having started reading.
ôPlease,ö Hermione pled, ôbe kind to me. Things didnÆt go too well the first time and I wound myself all up in knots over how IÆd do it if I had a wish of my own. IÆve thought for months over just how to put it, and memorized it so much that I could recite it in my sleep, if I ever slept anymore. I want to be HarryÆs age, and more beautiful, but above all I want my friends and I to be alive again, with new bodies and in perfect health. I just... I wrote it all down in case I ran out of breath or something.ö
Nodding, Urd went back to reading HermioneÆs wish. Upon reaching the end, her head got thrown back by the force of the light beam erupting from her forehead, and just as quickly it was over.
Hermione was panicking and close to freaking out. ôWhy arenÆt we alive?!?!ö
ôCalm yourself,ö Urd soothed, gently stroking the girlÆs hair. ôYou will be. This was just so complicated a wish it was deemed better to have me guide you through each step of the way than flash it all to completion.ö
All three ghosts let out metaphorical breaths they hadnÆt known theyÆd been holding.
I think I'll just call it good with this and consider that my contribution for the year.
Reflections Through Time
Chapter Three
by Lionheart
AuthorÆs Rant:
Time travel is really my favorite Harry Potter genre. However I get so annoyed by so many authors who send him back and fail to make any substantive use out of all those many glorious opportunities he had in the years before Hogwarts, glossing over them with a quick ôOh, and he had a childhood,ö or dropping him at the start of some school year.
In my opinion, it is the NON-school periods that have the most potential use. The times when he didnÆt do anything are the perfect moments to use for something else, even if it is just to get ahead on his schoolwork.
And frankly, letÆs be honest about it, Harry is way underpowered for the type of threats he typically faces. He canÆt depend upon luck or a last minute save forever. The sooner he starts adjusting his power level upward the happier heÆll be. However, I favor time travel fics mostly because in the official series, itÆs already far too late.
At last I came to the conclusion that if I wanted a story done up the way IÆd really like there was no alternative but for me to write it. IÆd tried to go only halfway by suggesting ideas to some of my favorite authors, but they had their own ideas and used only a couple of mine. However, some of the things you will see in this fic you may have seen before in other stories, despite the fact that they were mine to begin with.
Disclaimer: If you want to find the owner of the copyrighted material herein, you wonÆt do it on a fansite. They get paid for their work.
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His parents were still students, Harry learned. Not long out of Hogwarts themselves, both had elected to continue their education, James as a curse-breaker, of all things, and Lily as a Healer. Though, in the end, it made little enough of a difference, as both helped each other with studies every evening once the summer break was over, and so consequently were learning each otherÆs materials as well as their own.
Sirius was in auror training, and most nights he stopped by to join this study group, adding his material and picking up theirs as they traded homework assignments back and forth, with anecdotes and notes from the various lectures.
In shouldering this triple load of course work, they proved they were geniuses, as the child and ghosts silently observing them sometimes had trouble following the work, and Harry had two years plus a month or so of auror training himself.
Another owl-order, and Hermione had secreted auto-notes quills around the room to record these study sessions, taking notes on everything said so they could catch up during the day on this advanced material all of them were curious about.
Remus also stopped in, but not as often. Apparently it was not widely known that he was a werewolf yet. That it had stayed a secret this long surprised Harry, whoÆd thought more or less everyone knew. But evidently that was not the case, and the third Marauder was also in an auror training program, this one designed for producing a quick supply of cut-rate troops to throw into the war, replacing losses as fast as possible.
The ghosts and Harry were shocked, just shocked, to learn that Remus had grades that trailed behind his friends significantly, and couldnÆt qualify for the full-auror course that Sirius had undertaken.
Ginny and Hermione had both sputtered over learning that their best DADA teacher had the poorest grades of any of the adults in the room, until Luna had quietly mentioned in her distracted way that he had less time to study each month.
One of these early visits Peter stopped by, and from comments overheard the unobtrusive listeners concluded that Pettigrew had scored a low paying job as a clerk with the Ministry and was apparently satisfied with his lot in life.
Appearances can be deceiving.
Lingering on after one of these visits, Peter went to a cupboard where Hermione had secreted one of her note-taking pens. ôAha,ö the man proclaimed, drawing out the stack of papers. ôLittle Lily has been taking notes on her own lectures, has she? Interesting. How fortunate for Peter that he overheard you scratching, my little friend.ö Making a copy of those notes, the traitor returned them to their cupboard, closing the door. As he was stuffing those copies into his jacket, on his way to the floo where James and Lily were presently seeing the others off, they heard the rat man mutter to himself, ôI must see if Severus is still in the market for James and LilyÆs notes. He paid quite well for them before.ö
Stunned, simply stunned, Harry was unable to respond. It wasnÆt until HermioneÆs speculation, ôWell, we knew he was a traitor. People rarely do that in one great big step. They tend to do lots of little things before committing the big mistake that damns them.ö
Luna had tugged those notes out of PeterÆs pocket as heÆd disappeared into the fire, and the pages settled onto the wood after the horrible man had vanished, crisping up into balls of flaky ash as the fire stopped being green.
On future visits, theyÆd piece together enough comments, from everyone else and from Peter, to learn some surprising things (in between stopping Peter from stealing from the Potters). Snape had passed Potions with a LOWER grade than any of the Marauders, sans Pettigrew, who had equaled his Acceptable.
From listening to Peter and piecing together what he said, they could only conclude that SnapeÆs æresearchÆ recorded in those Half-Blood Prince memoirs was actually stolen bit by bit, a compiled record of secrets heÆd bought or copied during school.
Somehow, none of them could bring themselves to be surprised.
ôYou know, it makes sense in a way,ö Ginny speculated. ôHarry told us that book was just another old textbook shoved in the back under an old counter. If it had really been that precious it wouldÆve been in SnapeÆs room, or if heÆd really been working out of it he wouldnÆt have left it behind in that classroom when Slughorn took over Potions and Snape moved over to teaching DADA. But if it was just a compiled copy of other peopleÆs notes, then he could very easily have compiled those again, possibly with other stolen notes, into a larger empty book to use every day. ThatÆs the only way I could see the original getting shoved in some odd, forgotten corner, the way it was found.ö
None of them had a better theory, so for the moment just shrugged, accepting hers. And so they went on learning. Harry had a brilliant mind that the Dursleys had done everything they could to squash, and because of an ingrained fear of displaying too much intelligence at school (lest in his æshowing offÆ he outperform Dudley and get punished) heÆd never excelled at Hogwarts, doing all he could to try and fit in.
Well, look where that had gotten him, locked up in Azkaban.
As The Boy Who Lived, blending in was impossible. Worse, by trying heÆd left himself open to attacks that used his fame against him, like that reporter woman, Snape and assorted Ministers.
HarryÆd been so ignorant and trusting, way back then.
Of course, he was far from the only one practicing. Hermione beat Luna out on discovering their next æghost trickÆ by reading an account of a ghost that could create strange lights, and had promptly copied that power. After a brief sucking of HarryÆs suddenly cold and runny nose Hermione began experimenting with this very flexible radiance. At first, sheÆd intended merely to use it to read by, the light was quite bright, and the ones the Potters used were all magically controlled, turned on or off by wand flicks. So this could enable them to read to Harry when he woke up at night, or to catch up on their favorite subjects themselves while the rest of the household was sleeping.
However, the phosphorescence was far more adaptable than sheÆd at first realized. As the other two copied her new ability they experimented and discovered they could create a full range of colors, but only one at a time, and that they could shape the light into just about anything roughly man size or smaller. Those images were far from realistic, appearing as transparent, luminous figures that wouldnÆt fool anyone into thinking they were real, but not long after theyÆd discovered this art Lily burst into the room and caught them playing around with the new power.
Ginny had formed a golden glow into a petite lion, curled around the snoozing Harry. Hermione had been playing around with a phoenix, trying to get a mix of colors where she could make it seem aflame, but presently it was only orange. Luna, on the other hand, had formed a shockingly green copy of Matilda Marchbanks at lifesize and was experimenting with trying to get her laugh-lines precisely right.
Lily had been on her way to feed Harry when sheÆd spotted a distinct glow from the crack below the door to the nursery, and had burst in expecting trouble. She had in no way expected to be intruding upon so surreal a scene, and the lights vanished instantly upon her arrival, granting her only a glimpse of them before they snuffed out in shock.
Grabbing Harry, the mother of the infant rushed back to the master bedroom and woke her husband. ôJames! I just saw something in HarryÆs room!ö
ôWhat was it?ö
The man burst instantly to his feet, wand in hand. Lily could never understand how her beloved hubby could actually hear and comprehend her when he was asleep, but he could snore through a boring lesson and quote the whole thing at the end. It once drove their teachers batty, but it had gotten him passed History of Magic with the best grade in the school. Now it served him as an early alarm system, always alert for trouble even when asleep.
And, those few times sheÆd laid awake at night, confiding her troubles to her sleeping man, heÆd done his best to address those the next day. SheÆd been a whole year figuring that out before at last getting him to confess via a few faked tears.
ôThree forms,ö Lily gasped, she didnÆt startle easily and gave a decent description of what sheÆd seen. ôThree glowing creatures, all ghostly and transparent: a phoenix, a golden lion, and a woman we know, Matilda Marchbanks, only she was glowing green. They vanished the moment I entered the room.ö
ôWhat kind of green?ö James glanced down to make certain Harry was ok, and other than an abrupt awakening and feelings of hunger, he was just fine.
ôKilling curse green,ö Lily responded heavily.
Dressing in a single gesture, James strode downstairs and threw a handful of floo powder into the fireplace, bending over to duck beneath the mantle as he stepped into the green flames, declaring firmly, ôThe Marching Banks!ö
Lily waited an anxious half-hour for her husband to return, nursing Harry and fretting the entire time. When he did return, James had a fresh cut on his sleeve and a trickle of blood on that arm coming from a barely dodged curse. He was perky, and immediately went to hold his wife and explain what had occurred. He started out with the important stuff, as usual, ôNobody died, on our side that is, though Henry and his two oldest kids are going to St. MungoÆs, they did it on their feet and should recover fast. I went there to ask what was going on, but nothing seemed at all out of place at first. I felt awful for rolling the family out of bed like that, but they were nice about it, and didnÆt know anything about why HenryÆs wife would have been floating as a ghostly green image in HarryÆs room. I was about to put it all down to a prank, as their kids were already doing, when Henry did a routine check of the wards, seeing as how he was already up.ö
The Marauder swallowed, stroking his wifeÆs hair as he held her tight. ôThere were big gaps, holes cut out of their wards that didnÆt respond. At that point everyone grabbed their wands and started getting prepared, kids hunkering down behind furniture in the living room. Ghoul Grenades started coming in the windows of a few bedrooms. If theyÆd been asleep that wouldÆve been the end of them. The Death Eaters came in the front doors next, behind a wave of zombies. I kept turning the zombies into random junk; socks, discarded bottles, stuff like that, while animating the chairs and tables to fight in our defense.ö
Lily nodded wordlessly, not interrupting. James was a genius at Transfiguration, and using that imaginatively in battle was one of his specialties. Zombies could take enormous punishment from spell damage and keep on coming. One of the swiftest ways to stop them was to transform them into objects that couldnÆt move on their own, and random junk had an added difficulty for the Death Eaters following behind the first wave, in that they didnÆt know which of the objects laying around on the floor to transfigure back into their assault force.
Animated furniture was another specialty of her husbandÆs, and served most of the same purpose on the defensive as zombies did on offense: they were fairly hard to kill and every action spent stopping them from bludgeoning you to death was less attention you could spare to trading spells with the opposing wizards. James had also perfected the trick of getting his animated objects to leap in front of Killing Curses and the like, a trick that some members of the Order (including Dumbledore!) were trying to copy.
Some battles, the animated objects and zombies would get in each otherÆs way and more or less cancel out. But she could just see her husband removing the zombie threat as it passed through the front door, transformation spells taking them down as they entered in single file. Death Eaters relied on their zombies to take more punishment than that, and stood behind them as cover for protection while they sent off their own volleys of spells.
So going in without that advantage had probably been bad for them.
Even suffering post-battle stress, James had to grin, as if reading her thoughts. ôOne Prick-Eater even got caught in my animated welcome mat, just stepping right onto it and falling face-down in front of a potbellied stove that just stomped on his head. His skull turned to goo in one blow. It was sweet, IÆm going to have to recommend that to the others. I didnÆt even have to waste a spell on finishing that guy off.ö
James settled down off of the adrenalin rush and started to get into this story. ôSo, while the stove blew smoke in their eyes and crushed feet, breaking ankles because itÆs legs couldnÆt reach very high, the rug swarmed up one Prick-EaterÆs face and wrapped itself tight around his head. He couldnÆt speak to get a spell off, and the curtain rods tripped him up so he fell and the stove got a second kill. Can we get ourselves a stove, honey?ö
Lily didnÆt bother suppressing a giggle. ôSure, dear. WeÆll pick one up in the morning.ö
James nodded, feeling better. ôAnyway, while the curtains were blowing out in the way of their curses and the enemy were trying to spread out and get more room - stepping in my transfigured bear traps, by the way, Henry and I dropped two more of the first rank. Matilda summoned half of her kitchen utensils into the room, then banished them back out the front door, spearing forks and knives into the bad guys - too shallow to reach vital organs, but they decided to pop back out at that point, triggering portkeys. All told they lost half the raiding party in the first few seconds before spooking. I wish more battles could go that way. The survivors on their side will be too busy healing up to raid for another day or so, and a couple should take even longer. One got a fork stuck in his eye, and another left a foot behind in one of my bear traps. I was trying to convince Henry to get it turned into an umbrella stand, but his wife wouldnÆt stand for it, IÆm sure.ö
Lily sighed with relief, letting go of tension. The Marchbanks were good friends of the Longbottoms, and while not as close, still friends of the Potters and firm allies on the side of Light. It would have been a grievous blow to lose that family. Leaning her head against his shoulder, she began rubbing his chest. ôI wish I couldÆve been there. Matilda was probably frantic.ö
His cheery grin didnÆt conceal an intense stare. ôLily, you are the first witch IÆd choose to have at my side in any fight, but I was glad youÆd stayed behind here with Harry. If you were there our attackers wouldÆve have lost another two or three of their members, maybe none of that force wouldÆve gone home. You drop æem pretty quick, and I already know that youÆd have no trouble setting up an anti-portkey ward, so they probably all wouldÆve died, if we didnÆt take one or two for questioning. But you know what? I donÆt care. WeÆll get them anyway. And this way I donÆt have any nightmares about a curse that barely missed you.ö He made a face. ôIt just wouldnÆt be the same kissing you if you had frog lips or anything.ö
ôAre the Marchbanks going to be alright?ö Lily continued her rubbing of his chest.
James nodded firmly. ôYes, no problems. They didnÆt even really get scared. Ernie, their youngest? When theyÆd vanished his head popped from behind the couch where he and his sisters had been watching through the cracks, and the first thing out of his mouth was, ôThatÆs it? ThatÆs all there was?ö
Lily grimaced. Most battles lasted only seconds, with clear advantage obvious from the start. But that was no excuse to be a thrill seeker. That boy wouldÆve been singing a different tune if it had been their attackers winning the fight.
She spoke softly. ôIt wouldÆve been different if you hadnÆt been there, or if Henry hadnÆt chosen to check his wards.ö
There was a grim reality to the truth of her words. Even if the ghoul grenades hadnÆt gotten them all in their beds, there was a world of difference between walking into a ready (if hasty) defense and just storming a sleepy house. And her husbandÆs wand counted extra, more than most. Henry was a good man and a competent wizard, but while James hadnÆt said it, he hadnÆt had to. They both knew the man, and heÆd probably spent the entire time dueling in a more traditional manner, blocking spells and using counterspells, not dropping one opponent the entire time. Bless her heart, but his wife was the same. The house was surely more intact for them having blocked their fair share of incoming damage via counterspells, but James had been the one to drop their opponents and force them to flee in defeat and confusion.
ôEight wands in the attacking force, plus zombies and a leading wave of costly ghoul grenades, all arriving in the middle of a night against two adult wands for the defenders. That was supposed to be a slaughter,ö she whispered, musing on why so much got sent.
ôIt was!ö James agreed, enthusiastically, his energy undepleted by having woken up in the middle of the night and just having fought a battle. ôThe Pricks barely had anybody standing by the time they left, another two seconds and none of them wouldÆve made it out. And yes, I know you meant it was supposed to go the other way, or so theyÆd thought.ö
He shrugged and leaned further into his wife, musing aloud. ôTheir two oldest kids are Hogwarts students, and made a pretty good attempt at helping out, but the best they were throwing were Jelly Legs jinxes. When is Albus going to start getting a decent teacher to fill the DADA spot?ö
Lily shrugged, confirming in her mind that without James there their friends wouldÆve died, even if theyÆd had a warning. Aside from that volley of silverware at the end - most probably inspired by seeing James duel, the Marchbanks just werenÆt doing any damage to their foes by his report. In her estimate, if James hadnÆt been there four effective wand arms, plus a sheltering group of zombies, wouldÆve been sufficient for VoldemortÆs crew to take that house and slay the family without losses or using up expensive grenades.
SheÆd need to stop by and give them some instruction, but also see why the foe had used so much excessive force on a not terribly threatening family. Perhaps Matilda would know a good reason for the enemy to want her family dead so badly.
Dumbledore would surely want to know why theyÆd been targeted.
Harry and his ghostly friends, who had been listening in this whole time, conversing via telepathy to discuss things or clarify points, saw his parents had done sharing the details and were now moving on to necking, Harry allowed Ginny to slip him away to his crib, asking at the same time, ôWhat are ghoul grenades?ö
ôPotions derived from the foul essence of undead.ö Hermione answered with a grimace. ôWhen the vials shatter they spread forth a noxious cloud of fog, that doesnÆt last very long but destroys living flesh on touch. Getting caught in a blast will leave you looking like a dried out corpse in an instant of contact. TheyÆre very nasty weapons, but between his zombies and vampire followers, Voldemort has a steady supply of the key ingredients. They still wouldÆve cost him a small fortune to create, though. He didnÆt use too many during the second war. But then, he didnÆt really need to.ö
ôStill, it sounds like a way heÆd enjoy watching people die.ö
ôTrue, but they are very difficult to brew, and temperamental, so they require more time per potion than others that are also useful to him. So they are something of a luxury weapon. The expense probably wouldnÆt matter to him, but he had fewer potion masters during his second rise. Potion grades average much higher now than they do in the future.ö
ôSnape, no doubt.ö Harry groused.
ôI wouldnÆt be surprised.ö Ginny agreed with him.
ôI would have to agree, it does seem likely.ö Hermione conceded, watching HarryÆs face turn ever so slightly purple. While Ron was a tough subject for her, Snape was one for Harry, and for a multitude of reasons.
Meanwhile, HarryÆs thoughts were turning once more to that bastard of a teacher. It still hurt realizing that the guy could read minds, and so he KNEW that Harry wasnÆt seeking attention or glory for himself, that heÆd never been coddled or sought favoritism. That bastard knew, and didnÆt care. HeÆd said those things because theyÆd hurt Harry, and they were an excuse for the horrible teacher to bully him that other people could generally credit because in some quiet corner of their minds theyÆd fully expected Harry to be spoiled, as most magical families wouldÆve pampered him to death.
Most couldnÆt conceive of hurting him intentionally.
That he was willing to do so, to lie to hurt a child heÆd never met before, one innocent of any desire to harm him (until after substantial provocation), all because Snape hated a man whoÆd once saved his life, and a man whom Snape himself had done a significant part of sending to his and his wifeÆs death, and to KEEP doing it! To keep lying to hurt Harry, and hurt him just as much as he could get away with, over years and years...
That said more about the greasy haired manÆs character than anything else couldÆve.
Shaking himself free of those thoughts and resolving to think on happier things, the child turned his attention back to his friends and family whoÆd moved on to other topics of conversation, and inwardly made a choice.
As a baby looking back on his betrayal into Azkaban, and all of the mistakes and people that had led him there, Harry at last quietly concluded that being smart was the only thing that could save him. People like Voldemort and Dumbledore had other sorts of power only because they knew so much - all of their prestige and followers came later, after theyÆd proven they could do stuff alone, just with the knowledge in their heads and a few wand flicks.
He snickered at the thought of Hermione as a potential dark lord, deciding to tease her about it for a few weeks, but better her way than Ron WeasleyÆs. Being stupid and lazy was just asking to be a target: set up, used up, framed and discarded.
Like before.
Thus, Harry doubled his resolve to learn these subjects. Snape wasnÆt going to catch him unawares this time around. With a bit of luck, Harry thought he could even teach himself Potions and skip out on that murdering Death EaterÆs classes entirely. Luck was with him in one way, in that his parents both excelled at that subject and had lots of books on it.
And, as always, tomorrow came.
ôHoney, do you want to hear the latest?ö Lily asked as she came down to breakfast. ôDumbledore thinks that the raid last night was to acquire a hostage. Griselda Marchbanks is a formidable opponent and stark upright, preventing Voldemort from getting much influence in the Ministry. SheÆs HenryÆs great-great grandmother, or something. The lady gave Albus his NEWT tests, if you want an idea how old she is. Anyway, he feels this attack was not so much against Henry and Matilda as it was to weaken Griselda by their deaths, and possibly take the youngest hostage to see if blackmail could sway her should more threats fail to.ö
ôThat sounds like a move heÆd make,ö James agreed, sitting down to breakfast. ôAnd even if she didnÆt budge, or break with grief, some of those who saw what sheÆd gone through resisting Voldemort mightÆve buckled under similar pressure if he made threats to them, rather than suffer the same thing to befall their families.ö
What everyone in the room knew, even Harry, was that threatening families was a standard tactic of VoldemortÆs people, who used it at every opportunity.
ôHeÆs also coming over sometime tomorrow to see if he can discover why we saw her image in HarryÆs room at midnight, just before the attack.ö Lily concluded.
Three ghosts looked at each other, resolving to be elsewhere over that visit. They had too many unanswered questions about the Headmaster to relish a prospect of discovery by him, and he was far to canny about discovering faint magical traces not to recognize some ghosts, even invisible ones. Seeing the invisible had never stopped him before.
ôWhy did you choose to form that womanÆs image, anyway?ö Hermione pressed.
ôI was celebrating the anniversary of my great-auntÆs death with a picture balloon in her honor,ö said Luna, who was reading from a cookbook upside down.
Not the book, the ghost was upside down, standing on the ceiling. SheÆd taken to doing that alot of late.
Ginny elaborated for her. ôLunaÆs mother was Matilda MarchbankÆs sister. That was one of the lines nearly wiped out by VoldemortÆs first rise to power.ö
Hermione frowned, alert to incorrect grammar. ôI thought a great-aunt described a relationship meaning a person was your grandmotherÆs sister. A motherÆs sister would simply be an ordinary aunt.ö
ôShe weighed close to 400 pounds.ö Luna answered, playing with LilyÆs bangs. ôBut I think mother called her great because of her excellent Leprechaun and turtle soup.ö
ôShe cooked leprechauns?!?ö Hermione cried out in horror.
Lovegood fixed her with an odd gaze. ôNo, she fed her soup to Leprechauns and turtles.ö
Heedless of this invisible (and to them, inaudible) conversation, Lily went on, ôSo, have you got a babysitter for tonight?ö
James exuded confidence as he nodded. ôPeter will be handling it.ö
Lily grinned, unaware of the look of horror appearing on the faces of three ghosts and one baby. Harry, in desperation, started bawling at once and refused to be comforted. But his parents, though puzzled, had been planning this outing for weeks and when Peter arrived he assured them both that he would be alright and everything would be fine. The baby was just being colicky. It happened.
They should just enjoy the night out together theyÆd planned.
The moment they were out the door Peter threw a silencing charm on the terrified baby, banishing him off to his crib. Then, after feasting himself on what he could raid from the kitchen, came in to HarryÆs room and picked the boy up by the back of his shirt. ôSo, youÆre the little runt that James has been bragging about. He says you can fly.ö
Harry didnÆt like the awful grin that appeared in the ratÆs eyes as Peter waved him about, then opened the bedroom window.
They were two stories up.
ôLetÆs see, shall we?ö Peter dangled Harry outside the window into the dark night. In his baby body Harry was sure such a fall would kill him. He didnÆt have the bones or muscle structure to survive such an impact.
Thankfully, his ghosts would save him.
That was when their panic penetrated his own, and they communicated that theyÆd been bouncing off some kind of field around Peter, trying and failing to get to Harry all this time the rat had been upstairs.
ôHarry! Be careful! We canÆt get close to you!ö Hermione yelled.
The babyÆs eyes widened in fright as he examined his captor, noting the cheap, junk jewelry, realizing suddenly that Peter was surrounded by every kind of protective amulet and warding charm that he could beg, borrow, or (most likely) steal. Most of those were old, theyÆd never seen him without them, but some were new and one or more of those new ones must give protection against ghosts.
That meant his friends couldnÆt use their powers anywhere near the amazing rat man.
That meant he was going to die!
ôHarry, be calm!ö Hermione ordered, instructing him, ôMore than once youÆve almost blasted yourself off into space using bursts of accidental magic. You can do this!ö
It was do it or die, Harry realized, as his captor began tossing him up one handed to catch him again, arm stuck way out the window. At once Harry realized that Peter was drunk, that heÆd apparently found some booze in the kitchen and was even less competent than usual. Sooner or later he was going to miss a catch, and Harry would fall.
Sooner than he could think about it, Peter missed a hold and the baby went tumbling out of the traitorÆs grasp. Time stretched into a endless instant as he could see the panic in the rat manÆs eyes, to furtively grasp about for his wand (only to realize heÆd left it in the kitchen), and slowly get cut off from view by the windowframe as Harry descended.
Maybe, just maybe, Harry thought as he made his long descent, this could work out. Neville was dropped by his uncle out a window and he just bounced, proving that he had magic and wasnÆt a squib after all.
Then again, Hermione wasnÆt wrong. Harry HAD flung himself into the sky once or twice on bursts of accidental magic. HeÆd done it when he was sunbathing beside his mom. HeÆd even done it in his first life to get to a school roof and away from DudleyÆs gang!
On that instant, he decided to do it.
Though Harry didnÆt know this, magical tradition held that a new life force carried with it enormous magical potential left over from its creation. That was only a theory of course, but one based on the observation that young creatures, particularly immature witches and wizards, often achieved feats that no seasoned and educated adult would attempt.
However, it could also mean that their educational system sucked, but that wasnÆt a theory that made it into many textbooks.
HarryÆs panic was running high, and his body WAS flush with magic, and he had flown before, albeit briefly and in short bursts. Belief was also a major factor in magic, and already hundreds of witches and wizards on both sides had heard that young Harry could fly. James had been particularly proud of that fact and spread it far and wide.
Regardless, whatever embers may have been there, strewn by whatever means, got fanned into full flame by the emotional charge of HarryÆs approaching demise, and unlike most magical children who would have used such a burst to achieve momentary safety and release it, Harry, who had been concentrating on this effect, memorized the sensation of how he had achieved it, and his adult mind gave him control of it.
After flying clear of the wards on the house, he apparated to London, flew into the magical opera house past amazed security guards, and plunked himself down in his momÆs lap, interrupting the performance as cast and audience both stopped to stare at him.
There would be a Daily Prophet article, complete with photographs, the next day.
For once, Harry didnÆt mind.
After about fifteen minutes, the show resumed and Harry got treated to the last half of his very first opera, magical or not. His ghosts joined him fifteen minutes after his own arrival, so caught the same parts he did. TheyÆd apparently discovered they were able to sense him over long distances, and followed those sensations until they found him.
Luna also informed him that, as theyÆd been listening to his thoughts at the moment of his discovery, his ghostly girlfriends had also experienced the same sensations he had, and thus also knew how to fly.
She demonstrated, lifting herself up off the floor, but as she was a ghost this was hardly conclusive, seeing as how they could do that anyway.
Harry was a model infant for the remainder of the show, never making a fuss or misbehaving at all.
Once again, tomorrow came, and with it Dumbledore inspecting the house. The ghosts had carefully erased what signs of their presence they could, then left to visit a park for the day (or until Harry told them it was safe to return). Harry was on a leash, while James was laughing about the event to his buddies, unaware of how Pettigrew had endangered his sonÆs life, and simply thinking that his boy had missed his mother.
Upon his arrival, Dumbledore, eyes a twinkling, set about the house sniffing for clues in that old grandfatherly way he had. Baby Harry, who had only just achieved the most tenuous occlumency shields, shut his eyes and feigned sleep the whole time. Thankfully his mother carried him around in her arms, so he was able to hear what they said, and transmit that directly to his ghostly friends so they could overhear also.
Unfortunately, not much was said. Dumbledore chatted about the war news, asked for the opinions of HarryÆs parents on a topic or two, and for their take on certain people. It was far from the Master/Slave approach the Headmaster had used with Harry, but then he always sugarcoated that so even that didnÆt seem like that at the time.
Once he was done poking around for a few minutes, Dumbledore said the words they had been dreading, ôMy friends, are you aware that you are being haunted?ö
Instant, crushing despair struck Harry and his ghosts.
ôNo, Albus. What makes you say that?ö Lily pressed Harry closer to her bosom.
Though he could not see, Harry could easily imagine the twinkling grin on his old HeadmasterÆs face. ôOh, you see, it has an unusual touch, but the signs are really quite unmistakable that you have at least one ghost in residence.ö
ôWell, there are always books out, laying open,ö James mused.
ôAh,ö this time he could *hear* the twinkle! ôA most unusual ghost indeed. Very few are able to move objects. Indeed, Peeves is the only other one I know of. However, I mistrust a spirit that is unwilling to allow itself to be seen. More disturbing still is the fact that it has apparently absented itself, perhaps fearing my visit. Those two facts do not speak well of its intentions. Together, IÆm afraid this ghost might not be friendly to you. Voldemort is not above using the dead to spy for him. Therefore, with your permission, I will expand the wards around your home to protect you.ö
HarryÆs heart sunk down clear out of his chest as he heard his parents give that permission. His trio of ghostly girls started crying. He heard them over the link.
Ginny tried to perk them up by sharing that in one of her historical romance books there was a ghost that could create various illusions. Now illusions were some of the rarest of all forms of magic, being practically unknown and unheard of today, but Ginny had gotten the ability to create some a ghostly power.
But ever copying her on that didnÆt ease this tremendous blow. The ghosts were here for Harry, and being cut off from him was awful, worse than a return to Azkaban. But, no sooner did it happen than Hermione and Luna both stumbled over each other trying to suggest ways they could still be near him, read to him and help him.
It was at that awful moment that a television screen in a nearby muggle shop window flared to brilliant life and a familiar goddess stepped out of it.
ôUrd!ö all three ghost girls cried, flying over to her, their tears now mingled with relief.
To everyoneÆs surprise she smiled brilliantly back at them.
That stopped the spirit maidens short. ôUm, werenÆt you, like, upset last time?ö Ginny asked.
The goddess gave a negligent shrug, then casually explained. ôAs one of the Norns Fate is one of my areas of responsibility, and young Harry was, how was it that Thor put it?ö she touched her chin in thought, then snapped her fingers. ôFateÆs whipping boy! ThatÆs how he put it. Occasionally we get a glitch where that happens, and I was feeling guilty just being around the boy. But so far you three have done a nice job at reversing that, which leads me to why I am here.ö
Assuming a more formal pose, she gave the trio a half-bow. ôHermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, you have been deemed worthy due to your pure hearts, manifested in your selfless dedication to serving others. I am very pleased to inform you that I am here to grant you each one wish.ö
ôPure what?ö Luna asked.
Her answer was a curiously lifted eyebrow.
ôOur hearts are pure what?ö Luna repeated. During the interval since the goddess had last seen her, Lovegood had arranged her ghostly intestines into a turban she was now wearing.
Urd laughed, then leaned forward teasing, ôIf you want to know the specifics, that will be your wish. Otherwise youÆll have to deal with the summary, which is: pure goodness.ö
ôIs it sticky?ö Luna continued asking.
ôNo,ö Urd paused thoughtfully. ôThough sometimes I wish it were so.ö
ôWish for us to be able to rejoin Harry!ö Ginny blurted, unable to restrain herself.
Hermione shook her head, furiously scribbling on a scrap of paper with a half a pencil that had been lying around, lip bit between her teeth as she thought hard and fast.
ôHow did Harry become FateÆs whipping boy?ö Lovegood asked of the goddess.
Urd shrugged, her present happiness undimmed by the question as there was no hint of blame in the mind of the girl asking it. ôYggdrassil, the World Tree System that runs the universe, often gets bugs in it. They cause things that arenÆt supposed to happen, like electing a moron for an American President, or assigning way too much grief and pain for one mortal to receive. Trials and tribulations are part of the whole mortal setup, without them youÆd stagnate and wouldnÆt achieve the purpose you were created for. But Harry got, here let me check the figures,ö the goddess opened a small device and read the screen. ôHere it is, Harry got about thirty times more adversity in his life than normal maximums permit. ItÆs a real tribute to the innate beauty of his spirit that he didnÆt crack, to be honest.ö
Watching the goddess close her device and stow it, Luna nodded as if agreeing. ôAnd how are these bugs resolved?ö
Urd blinked at her twice, suspecting something, and sprouted a large smile. ôThatÆs a nice thing to ask. YouÆre about to wish for the bug causing HarryÆs life to go insane with trials and problems to be removed, arenÆt you? ThatÆs sweet. ThatÆs the kind of thing a girl with a pure heart does wish for, and about the only thing that makes this job worthwhile. Okay, my sisters and I, the Norns, are system debuggers. WeÆve got powers that enable us to seek out and destroy system bugs, correcting their detrimental effects on Yggdrassil. But things have been kind of hectic of late, and bugs have been running out of control. So, you want me to go find the one thatÆs been heaping bad luck on the boy you love?ö
Urd began rolling up her sleeves, until Luna shook her head no.
ôI wish for the Norns to have perfect control of all of their goddess powers from this moment forward and for all eternity.ö Luna continued calmly.
Urd had a moment to look stunned before her head threw itself back and the energy beam of a divine data transmission got sent out to interface with HeavenÆs secure system.
ôWish... approved,ö Urd squeaked out, sinking down to her knees in shock.
Luna began to braid the goddessÆ hair for her, and explained. ôYou see, this way I believe the suffering of the whole world will reduce, as well as HarryÆs. Since you three will be able to control the bugs more readily than you have done.ö
Urd opened and closed her jaw several times, acting out a fair impression of a koi.
ôSo... HarryÆs life will get better now?ö Ginny ventured to guess.
ôItÆs still going to take a while to reduce the backlog,ö Urd dazedly muttered, before an excited Hermione thrust her scrap of paper into her face.
ôHere! This is what I wish for?ö
ôA sale at Nordstroms?ö Urd read the flyer.
ôNo!ö panicking, the ghost turned the sheet over to where the goddess could read her tightly packed tracks composed of thin lines of pencil writing.
ôNew bodies? Are you sure?ö The platinum haired beauty raised her eyes from skimming the wish to glance at the wish receiver.
ôI want all of us to be alive.ö Hermione explained, panting in her excitement. ôAnd I wouldnÆt mind being prettier... Oh! ItÆs all spelled out in there! IÆve been working on what IÆd wish for for months and months in case this ever happened to me.ö
ôI hate to be the one to break this to you, kiddo, but Heaven and lawyers donÆt mix very well. Trying to cover everything in ultra-specific detail is often worse than the most careless off the cuff wish.ö Urd glanced up over the flyer, having started reading.
ôPlease,ö Hermione pled, ôbe kind to me. Things didnÆt go too well the first time and I wound myself all up in knots over how IÆd do it if I had a wish of my own. IÆve thought for months over just how to put it, and memorized it so much that I could recite it in my sleep, if I ever slept anymore. I want to be HarryÆs age, and more beautiful, but above all I want my friends and I to be alive again, with new bodies and in perfect health. I just... I wrote it all down in case I ran out of breath or something.ö
Nodding, Urd went back to reading HermioneÆs wish. Upon reaching the end, her head got thrown back by the force of the light beam erupting from her forehead, and just as quickly it was over.
Hermione was panicking and close to freaking out. ôWhy arenÆt we alive?!?!ö
ôCalm yourself,ö Urd soothed, gently stroking the girlÆs hair. ôYou will be. This was just so complicated a wish it was deemed better to have me guide you through each step of the way than flash it all to completion.ö
All three ghosts let out metaphorical breaths they hadnÆt known theyÆd been holding.
This was good too. You've got everything fixed except for what you will do about Wormtail and Tommy boy.