Back In Time
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/18079844.
Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: Underage
Category: M/M
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Relationship: Harry Potter/Voldemort
Character: Harry Potter, Voldemort (Harry Potter), Hedwig (Harry Potter), Death Eaters - Character, Yaxley (Harry Potter), Lestrange Sr. (Harry Potter), Rabastan Lestrange, Remus Lupin, Horace Slughorn, Albus
Dumbledore, Knights of Walpurgis - Character, Augustus Rookwood, Fenrir Greyback, Severus Snape, Marauders (Harry Potter), James Potter, Yaxley's house elf, Harry and Voldemort's child
Additional Tags: Hedwig (Harry Potter) Lives, Hedwig is a cat, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Time Travel, Male Slash, Slash, Adoption, change of name, Past Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Self-Esteem Issues, Harry Potter has low Self-Esteem, Panic Attacks, Mpreg Harry, Magic Sentient, Time-jump into the past doesn't end in the exact same day of the year Harry was in the present, Harry is forced to have a new
birthdate thanks to that, (really Voldemort? you could've choose any date and you choose that one?), Professor voldemort, Wizardry World War, Heir of Slytherin Harry Potter, Mind Games, Magic Food is bad for your health, Parselmouth Harry Potter, magic words, Muggle Trivia as a courtship devise, Magic Oath, Werewolf Idiomlogy, Soulmates - kinda, Bullying, Moonstone, Werewolf Pack claim, Slytherin Ranking, Severus and Lily's fall apart, First Kiss - Harry's still underage, Falling In Love, James' maturing as he grows older, Potters demise, Time Skips, Magic Talking, Minister for Magic Tom Riddle, Writer isn't a Native English Speaker, Don't copy to another site
Series: Part 52 of Harrymort/Tomarry, Part 2 of Magic Sentient, Part 73 of Complete fics, Part 6 of Being Slowly Updated Into Wattpad, Part 6 of Needs a Cover
Stats: Published: 2019-03-12 Completed: 2019-12-16 Chapters: 8/8 Words: 18122
Back In Time
by Isys Luna Skeeter (IsysSkeeter) Summary
When Voldemort regains his body he recognizes Harry as someone from the 70s. He gives Harry the ability to go with the promise of meeting his parents but being unable to change the past. Harry takes it. Little did he know how the Marauders and Lily were as teenagers. And lets not forget… the winning feelings for a monster
Back In Time
Summary: When Voldemort regains his body he recognizes Harry as someone from the 70s. He gives Harry the ability to go with the promise of meeting his parents but being unable to change the past. Harry takes it. Little did he know how the Marauders and Lily were as teenagers. And lets not forget… the winning feelings for a monster
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies, they belong to J. K. Rowling. I also do not make any money from the writing of this story. Beta: none
Pairing: Harry Potter/Voldemort
Warnings: Writer isn't a Native English Speaker, Hedwig (Harry Potter) Lives, Hedwig is a cat, Alternate Universe - time-travel, time-travel, Male Slash, Slash, Adoption, change of name, Past Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Self-Esteem Issues, Harry Potter has low Self-Esteem, Panic Attacks, Mpreg Harry, Magic Sentient, Time-jump into the past doesn't end in the exact same day of the year Harry was in the present Harry is forced to have a new birthdate thanks to that (really Voldemort? you could've choose any date and you choose that one?), Professor Voldemort, Wizardry World War, Heir of Slytherin Harry Potter, Mind Games, Magic Food is bad for your health, Parselmouth Harry Potter, magic words, Muggle Trivia as a courtship devise, Magic Oath, Werewolf Idiomlogy, Soulmates - kinda, Bullying, Moonstone, Werewolf Pack claim, Slytherin Ranking, Severus and Lily's fall apart, First Kiss - Harry's still underage, Falling In Love, James' maturing as he grows older, Potters demise, Time Skips, Magic Talking, Minister of Magic Tom Riddle
Prologue
Chapter Notes
Ner words: 896 "Talking" 'Thinking'
{Talking on the fireplace} –Parseltongue–
Thinking in 3rd person POV/Dream/Memory/Flashback/Others Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper
Time change/Date of time
Change of POV
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Prologue Saturday, 24 June 1995
LV's POV
Voldemort walked out the cauldron and let Wormtail dress him up and give him back his own wand. Voldemort tasted the feeling of his old wand in his hand and then he caught sight of Harry Potter out of the corner of his eyes. Voldemort frowned and turned fully towards the lad. Really taking his features into account. It could not be…
Ignoring the snivelling Wizard by his side, Voldemort approached the Young Wizard tied up against the headstone. Slowly, he raised his hand to the lad's face who shrieked in pain. Voldemort looked at his own hand and then towards Harry.
"You are raised by…?"
"Muggles." Came the gasping breath.
Voldemort nodded and stood up. He glanced at Harry's broken leg and wounded arm – he would have Wormtail at wand point for that one later – before he pointed his wand at the leg and slowly started healing the teenager. The lad gasped in pain but no scream left his mouth. He really was raised to support pain. Voldemort glanced at the lad's forehead when he was done with the leg and did a quick check-up spell as Harry tentatively tested his leg, confused, on his tied-up position. Horcrux. So, that is what is causing the pain torment. Leaning down and on his own heels, Voldemort faced Harry and gave him a look to stay still before he started chanting.
Miraculously, Harry did stay still through the whole incantation. Only daring to speak once Voldemort stood and went to check on the quivering Wizard that he had stopped to hear whimpering. Still alive, barely but still breathing.
"Not that I'm not thankful for my broken leg and the stop of forehead pain, but: what the hell are you doing? You've been trying to off me since before I was a bloody toddler!"
"Remember that I told you that I could give you back your parents?" Voldemort asked instead as he gave Wormtail a metal hand and forced a blood potion down his throat.
The Wizard had passed out at lack of blood after all.
"Yeah?" Voldemort glared at the lad, who immediately amended: "Yes, I remember. Still, you were just saying whatever to make me help you out."
"I can not revive them without the philosopher stone." Voldemort agreed. "Yet, I can give you something else." Harry frowned puzzled. The Dark Lord smiled at it. Some things never change. "It was not until I regained my body and really looked at you that I recognised you. From the '70s."
Harry's eyes grew, hopefully.
"You mean travel back in time? Meet my parents in school?"
"You will not be able to change their future." Voldemort argued at the too hopeful look. "But I can meet them." Harry argued with a frown.
"Yes. You cannot go as Harry James Potter. Just as some obvious Potter features that you have need to be tuned down. Not to mention that we need to wait for Spring Solstice so Magic allows me to do it and for me to have all the paperwork ready to send you."
Harry's frown deepened as he thought about it. "It'll hurt like a bitch, won't it?"
"Both the body change and the time-travel." Voldemort agreed while glaring at the lad for the wording.
"Spring? That's almost a year away."
Voldemort smiled amused and did a quick Tempus – which ironically he had once learned thanks to past Harry.
"8 months, 29 days and… 33 minutes, I would say."
Harry just succumbed back unto the tombstone wide-eyed as it really clicked that Voldemort wasn't jesting him.
"How long am I meant to spend back in time?"
"I do not know, to tell you the truth." Harry's eyes grew. "When I went after the Potters you were still in the past." Voldemort explained.
"First: I want you to agree to this." Harry glared up at Voldemort.
"Only if I'm allowed to return to Hogwarts. I want to say my goodbyes. In case you haven't noticed, I won't see friends-like-family for decades."
Voldemort nodded and Harry then gave his verbal agreement. The Dark Lord wondered if he should have warned the lad about his parents' personalities…
Voldemort released Harry who tentatively tested his leg, before he stood. "So… I see you in winter?"
Voldemort hummed as he thought about it. It would give him enough time for Harry's features changes before the time-travel.
"Agreed. And Harry?" Harry stopped to look back from where he was retrieving his own wand from Wormtail's slack human hand. "I want the Muggles' full address."
"Why?"
"Do you think I am doing this out of the goodness of my own heart?" The lad blushed.
"That's your payment? My relatives' exact location?" "Indeed."
Harry hummed at that.
"Then I'll tell you exactly one minute before the Spring Solstice."
Voldemort smiled amused as the lad approached the dead body of his fellow Champion. Harry summoned the cup and Voldemort reactivated the Portkey to send him back to Hogwarts. Only once Harry was out of earshot did Voldemort allow his laugh.
So, this was what his young lover looked like before he entered Hogwarts in the past? (TBC)
Chapter End Notes
Next chapter: Jerry ~Isys
Chapter I –Jerry–
Chapter Notes
Ner words: 3,114 "Talking"
'Thinking'
{Talking on the fireplace} –Parseltongue–
Thinking in 3rd person POV/Dream/Memory/Flashback/Others Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper
Time change/Date of time
Change of POV
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Chapter I –Jerry–
Wednesday, 20 March 1996
HJP's POV
Harry glanced at Voldemort as the man set up the last things for the ritual. Harry passed a hand through his hair with a sigh. To never see his friends as Harry Potter ever again…
"It's almost 8 am. Are you ready?" Voldemort asked.
Harry huffed. Did he really have a choice in the matter? For Voldemort it really had already happened. Harry stepped into the middle of the ritual platform that Voldemort had drawn on the floor.
"Surrey. 4 Privet Drive. Vernon and Petunia Dursley."
Harry shivered at the accomplished look in Voldemort's face as Hedwig flew into Harry's chest. Harry hugged her as Voldemort started the incantation. Harry glanced at the clock by the side of the room. 08:03 a.m. exactly.
He closed his eyes as the pain attacked.
Friday, 20 June 1975
Harry woke up in the middle of nowhere with his own trunk at his feet and Hedwig on his arms. He glanced down at his owl and sister only to find a white cat with yellow eyes in her location. Right… Voldemort could've explained what the effects of the ritual would have on a pet. He quickly looked through his school trunk until he found his paperwork in a small folder. With it was a letter from Voldemort.
On the moment you'll have found this you'll be in the past. So from now on you need to take a ride from wherever you were sent to towards Gringotts. I've added a small package in your trunk where your personal vault is inside Harry's eyes grew, staring at the package in question. Give them your paperwork as well. From then on they'll do all the work of re-entering you into society. Officially you are the only child of a family who always home taught their children who got themselves blown up by the Muggle War. Your name and birthdate is on the paperwork. Before you ask about the date it's not the same day in there as it is here. You aren't in Spring Solstice but from what my counting's tell me you are couple days before the Summer Solstice itself. You are the exact same number of days between your today and your new birthdate. Which means that you will enrol at Hogwarts as a fifth-year.
Harry grabbed his ID parchment and gaped as he looked at the birthdate. Birthdate: 31 October 1959
Harry took a deep breath to calm himself down. Once he'd return back he was so making Voldemort pay for this!
Name: Damon Gerald Peverell
That's it! Harry was definitely making Voldemort pay once this was all done. Harry picked some coins – enough for a bus drive – then closed the trunk and called the Knight Bus.
–BiT–
Harry glanced up as the Aurors spoke with the Goblins by the side. Dead by Muggle War meant that there was no Auror involved with the case and so whatever Harry said was accepted as truth. Sometimes the Wizardry World could be really blind!
"Peverell!" Harry glanced up at the Auror with a raised eyebrow. "Any known biological family still alive?"
Harry shook his head. Not like he could tell «the Potters» after all.
"It was just me and my relatives." Harry argued before looking away again. "Relatives? Not parents?"
"Parents died when I was 15-month-old. Now I'm 15-year-old and I lose my mother's Sister and Brother-in-law. Irony how my life works."
"Goblin, may you look up blood relatives alive?"
The Goblin nodded and approached Harry. He podded Harry's fingertip with a needle and then let the blood drop to a parchment. The Goblin passed his hand twice over the parchment to activate the blood inheritance. When it was done Harry glanced at it and scanned through it, only to check that no Potter appeared. Now it made sense the second pass of hand. Finally the Goblin read the names.
"He has several names."
"Very well. Then contact the first that looks reasonable. I'm going to fill the report of the relatives' death." The Auror huffed and left.
"With the war a Offspring that lost his family isn't considered an issue." Griphook put in. "Offsprings should always be first place."
Harry smiled sadly back as the Goblin firecalled someone. A mid-forties man left the fireplace while cleaning the cinder from his robes.
"In what may I be of use to a Goblin this fine afternoon?"
"Adoption." The newcomer frowned, accepted the blood test result and looked at the name that Griphook pointed out. "If you agree that is."
Harry tried to recall the names but he really had only looked at any surname started with a P… "It'll be my pleasure. May I know the name of the child I'm acquiring?"
"Damon Gerald Peverell." Harry offered unwillingly.
"Pleasure, I am Corban Yaxley. Do you prefer Damon or Gerald?" "Neither." He grumbled.
Mr Yaxley smiled at that.
"If I do recall Jerry is an acceptable diminutive of any names started with Jer or Ger." Griphook put in and Mr Yaxley looked back with a raised eyebrow. "He got his name from the relatives from the Mother's side. 14 years and he still doesn't like that his name was changed."
"From Jerry?"
"From Harry." Harry argued. Mr Yaxley hummed.
"I'll go by Jerry. It would create too many questions as to why the other name and they sound remarkably alike."
Harry nodded thankfully. "Thank you, Mr Yaxley." "When did the Peverells die?" "My parents? I was 15-month-old."
"31 January 1961." Griphook supplied. "Young Peverell is born on the Samhain." "Samhain?" Harry asked confused.
Mr Yaxley narrowed his eyes. "Taught around Muggle costumes?"
Harry glanced at Griphook who nodded.
"Aunt and Uncle were Muggles. I learnt from tutors. And only because my relatives were too scared of the magic to refuse. First who introduced me to magic was a Werewolf. He used to be my Father's best friend."
"Did something happen for him to stop teaching you?"
"Aurors/Werewolf fight." Griphook put in. "After that there was another tutor. This one not as nice even if he got the job done."
Harry raised an eyebrow and Griphook pointed at Harry's back of the hand. Immediately, Mr Yaxley approached and picked it up.
"What happened to this tutor?" He asked harshly.
Harry glanced up at Griphook who looked back from the paperwork he was taking care of with the adoption.
"Officially, Mr Peverell's family died in a bomb blast by the Muggle War." Griphook put in. "Truthfully, his tutor and his family pushed him a notch too far."
Harry blushed and lowered his head.
"He wouldn't stop going on about how my Mum was like a dog bitch. Sometimes, some need to be killed because they birth sick."
An ink bottle exploded and Harry's wrists were grabbed by Mr Yaxley immediately.
"Something he must have said for months?" Harry nodded deep red, it had been Aunt Marge actually, but Snape had also said some really nasty stuff. Not to mention Umbridge and the blood quills. "Plus the relatives themselves mistreatment it's completely normal the decontrol. Although we'll have to look this up." Mr Yaxley didn't release the wrists as he turned his attention towards Griphook. "Any valuable object broken?"
"Only the black ink."
Slowly, Mr Yaxley released Harry who, immediately, massaged his own wrists to bring back the blood flowing. Mr Yaxley approached the trunk, opened and looked through the mess before picking an ink bottle still new and gave the Goblin who accepted it.
"You'll need a magical trunk to store your things. Although with the threat after your accidental magic decontrol, I understand that you limited to push everything you owned into the nearest bag." Mr Yaxley glanced at Hedwig climbing the trunk and pawing at the owl biscuits. "You give your cat owl food?"
"Funny thing… before 8 am today and the whole incident… she was an owl." Mr Yaxley's eyes grew and he turned towards Griphook.
"I looked into it. It can't be undone." The Goblin agreed. Mr Yaxley glanced at Harry surprised.
Harry lowered his head, because no, he was no such thing. –BiT–
Friday, 1 September 1975
Harry sat on the train as he looked out the window. To restart his fifth-year and to be forced to stay out in the darkness wouldn't be easy. Though needed if he wanted to be allowed to meet his parents. Mr Yaxley had persuaded him that he needed to attend Wizardry Customs class instead of Divination – which would've be taught by the man himself as it was mandatory. Harry glanced at the door direction as a group of teens passed by.
"I hear we'll have a transfer this year." "Heard that as well. Yaxley's bastard."
Harry huffed and tuned off the rest of the conversation. It wasn't worth to explain himself.
The train passed by quickly and in no time they were at Hogsmeade station. Harry got out of the carriage and glanced around uncertain only for an older student with a HB pin on his robe to approach.
"The Yaxley's boy?" Harry nodded, uncertain. "I'm the Head Boy. Come, Professor Slughorn asked to find you. You are to go with him. Too old for the first-years boat ride to the school. I'm Rabastan. Our parents went to school together."
"Mr Yaxley isn't my father. Blood test and one of the names made him accept to take me in." Rabastan looked back.
"Not an usual occurrence. Usually only actual blood does it. Still whoever you are an Heir to is powerful or important enough for him to accept the adoption. From now on just say that he used to be your parents' best friend."
Harry nodded thankfully and they arrived a carriage where a blond man was waiting. Harry immediately stepped back. Blond, check. Fat, double check.
"Ah! Mr Yaxley."
There was no way. Uncle Vernon was not in this timeline. He would never step into a magical town. It couldn't be…
–BiT–
CY's POV
Corban walked fast out of the Ministry of Magic, Jeremiah at his side. "That lad is driving your name through the mud, Corban."
"Do you want to know which name showed up on the lad's blood test results for family inheritance?" Corban retorted harshly and Jeremiah nodded uncertain. "«Tom Marvolo Riddle»." Jeremiah's eyes grew before he snorted.
"Do you really believe that I would care about a little mud, Jeremy?" Jeremiah shared an amused look back.
"I do not believe any Knight ever would have." He agreed before they arrived the exits and apparated to Hogsmeade. "Rabastan stated in his own two-way mirror that His magic is out of control completely."
Corban nodded. The two approached the train station and the carriage where Professor Slughorn was before a, obviously having a panic attack, Jerry. Corban hurried towards the lad and grabbed his wrists, completely locking his magic. The Dark Lord used to be more controlled over his magic back as a teenager. Then again, Jerry had been mistreated and neglected by almost everyone he knew.
"Corban."
Corban ignored Professor Slughorn for now as he noticed the lad's eyes were blank. "Who am I?" He asked the lad.
"Uncle Vernon." The answer was detached, emotionlessly.
Corban took a deep breath through his nose, only to let it all out through his mouth.
"I am sorry, Professor Slughorn. My recently acquired ward was raised by an animal who apparently looked remarkably like you do right now; enough for him to go into full panic attack mode in fear of the usual punishment."
"Oh my…"
Jeremiah raised an eyebrow but his expressions stayed blank. Corban shared a look back before he concentrated on the lad again. Even with the lock, his magic was still flowing through and out of control.
"I will go contact someone to better help restrain his magic decontrol." Jeremiah stated. "Those Muggles probably taught Young Yaxley to ignore his magic instead of acquainting with it."
"Some Muggles do, yes." Professor Slughorn agreed coldly, before Jeremiah left. "Rabastan, go ahead and inform Professor Flitwick that I am held up and can not perform the sorting tonight." The students around nodded and entered the carriage, heading towards Hogwarts. Professor Slughorn then lead Corban and Jerry to a private room in the Three Broomsticks. By the time Jerry was starting to overpower Corban, Jeremiah entered with the Dark Lord who, obviously, was under some heavy glamours to look like how he should've look-like right now. The Dark Lord did not even think twice, he just stepped forward and took hold of the lad's magic.
"Thank you for coming."
"You really believe I would leave you on the hand, Corban?" The Dark Lord retorted, before he nodded at Professor Slughorn. "Professor."
"Always a pleasure to meet you again, Tom. You have aged well."
The Dark Wizard smiled at an inside joke, which both Corban and Jeremiah had to stop themselves from reacting to.
"Thank you, Sir. You look fine yourself." The Dark Lord took hold of Jerry's wrists for Corban and then breathed through his nose. "This one has too much uncontrolled magic that he can not fully understand."
"How strong?" Professor Slughorn asked with his obvious thirst for power.
There is a moment where the Dark Lord seems to have not heard the question, then Jerry gasped and passed out.
"In magical level? Basically; mine."
Corban tensed and so did Jeremiah, both sharing a look. Their Lord would not make such a claim if it was untrue.
"And you are one of the highest levels I have ever met." Professor Slughorn agreed impressed. "Corban, I know you applied your ward for Wizardry Customs classes with you. Can we trade them with magical classes with Tom and pass yours to the weekends?"
Corban glanced at his Lord with a questioning look, who nodded. "Won't the Headmaster refuse it?" Corban asked instead.
"If he argues too much I myself will sign the slip so Young Yaxley comes to Hogsmeade for his classes."
The Dark Lord smiled.
"He will have a heart attack. He refuses to have me near his students." Professor Slughorn huffed.
"I will go take care of the paperwork right away."
As soon as the Potions Professor left; the Dark Lord's glamour dropped and the Wizard huffed. "Explain, Corban."
"Damon Gerald Peverell. Parents died as a toddler. Raised by Muggles. I believe Mother to be a Muggleborn as he calls the Muggles who raised him by Aunt and Uncle. Tutored first by a Werewolf who was best friend with the Peverells. Then, when the Werewolf was murdered by Aurors in an anti-Werewolf campaign, he was tutored by a Wizard who hated the ground he walked on." Corban showed the lad's back of the hand and the Dark Lord sneered at the tell-tale-scar of a blood quill. "He killed them when he lost control."
"He is decontrolled enough." Was the only agreement.
"The Auror ordered then the Goblin to do a blood test for family relatives. Seeing your former name I was contacted."
"Which was the blood connection we shared?"
"That's the thing, my Lord. He is a Parselmouth through being poisoned by Basilisk's poison and saved by Phoenix's tears."
"Does he realize what he is?"
"Exactly no. He has the worst Light Mentality I have ever met. Which I believe is why the Goblin chose me instead of Jeremy or Abraxas as both have children close to his age."
"Are you telling me that he has no idea that you are Dark?" Corban nodded. "It will be definitely interesting to see him mould. After all, the reason he has so much power is because he is a Sentient – most likely a side-effect of the poisoning."
"He should be able to tell Corban's Magical Core then." Jeremiah argued.
"Not if he was never taught how and what he is. Actually, he looks like someone who refused his magic as he grew up. He probably only uses the amount of magic he is made to use by the tutors. A Werewolf would not be able to tell what he is and the other sounds like he suppressed him knowing exactly what he was suppressing."
The Dark Lord's glamours returned and then the lad woke up. He glanced up at the Dark Lord puzzled, only for his eyes to grow and immediately got hold unto his wand like a lifesaver.
"Jerry, this is your Magical Core Tutor." Jerry's eyes turned onto Corban, wide-eyed.
"Sir?" Corban raised an eyebrow in return. With his hand trembling like mad, the lad lowered his wand and bowed his head towards the Dark Lord. "Voldemort."
The Dark Lord chuckled.
"Still doubting his Sentiency, Jeremy?"
"Trust me, my Lord, I have learned years ago to never doubt you." Jerry raised his head confused.
"I did not introduce myself, Young Peverell."
The lad's cheeks went deep red just before a knock was heard and then Professor Slughorn and Professor Dumbledore entered.
"Professors." Corban nodded before he set a hand on the lad's shoulder. "Jerry, these are Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Slughorn. Professor Slughorn is the Potions Professor and Head House of Slytherin."
Obediently, Jerry nodded at both.
"Feeling better, my Boy?" Professor Slughorn wondered.
"I'm sorry, Sir, earlier for a moment I couldn't rationalize. The only resemblances you may share with my deceased Uncle is that you're both blond and…" Jerry glanced at Corban uncertain on how to word it.
"Fat?" Professor Slughorn offered amused and Jerry nodded, deep red. "Do not worry. It's nothing to be ashamed about. I believe you've met your new Magical Tutor?"
And with that the boy stole both the three Dark Wizards in the room – as well as Professor Dumbledore –'s breath away. Someone supposedly with no control, just passed from a shivering ashamed mass to a manipulative calm person. Could it be because the Dark Lord had to fully take over his magic earlier that he had been able to read so much of the Dark Lord's persona?
(TBC)
Chapter End Notes
Next chapter: Paradox ~Isys
Chapter II –Paradox–
Chapter Notes
Ner words: 3,395 "Talking"
'Thinking'
{Talking on the fireplace} –Parseltongue–
Thinking in 3rd person POV/Dream/Memory/Flashback/Others Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper
Time change/Date of time
Change of POV
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Chapter II –Paradox–
Friday, 1 September 1975
LV's POV
“That’s great.” Professor Slughorn turned towards Corban. “I have paperwork that needs signing.” Corban released his ward’s shoulder and approached the Professor and the table. Mid-glare contest between himself and Professor Dumbledore, Voldemort took hold of the lad’s shoulder whose freak out was hidden behind a puzzled innocent facade. His own Heir and Equal indeed.
“Damon, you have named Corban your Guardian instead of Father, why is that?” Professor Dumbledore asked without looking away from Voldemort once.
“Because he’s my magical version of a Godfather, Professor. My Father has been dead for a decade and half. As well as my Mother.”
“Magical version... do you have a Muggle version?”
“I was baptized, Sir.” Young Peverell glanced back at Corban and then up towards Voldemort. “I’ve no idea how to explain why a Werewolf is acceptable to Muggles but not to Wizards, Professor.” The lad stated as he asked, obviously, for the Dark Lord’s explanation. As a student would ask his tutor.
“Baptism is the ritual where religious Muggles give their children their name with the deity’s approval. To a baptism Muggles won’t check if the person is a Werewolf or hunt by law. All they need is to supposedly be religious to which nothing but an enchanted parchment as proof would be enough for the Priest.” Voldemort explained, slipping into lecture mode. “It would make sense that even though Mr Peverell followed his wife’s upbringing he also decided to follow his own upbringing since, in the Wizardry World, it is forbidden for a Werewolf to take a child in that he/she has not birth him/herself.”
“And still instead of being sent to me he was sent to his Mother’s relatives. Which from his reaction at the very idea of meeting his Uncle in the Wizardry World is enough to make him have a panic attack, tell us just how Parent Material those two were. It is a good thing that they were killed by the Muggle War by accident.” Corban intercepted which provoked for the lad’s fake show of control to start to slip.
–BiT–
HP’s POV
Harry felt Voldemort’s hand tighten on his shoulder and then the man leaned down to whisper to him.
–Control your breaths. You are losing your control on your magic again.– Harry obeyed to the best of his abilities.
–I’m trying. Yet…–
Voldemort finally looked away from Dumbledore and stared directly into Harry’s eyes. Harry felt himself relax against his own control and, when he felt the Dark Lord look away, his body shivered at being under his own control again.
“Corban, your ward needs a hot cocoa and a good night sleep.” Voldemort stated before he looked at Harry again. –Corban calls you Jerry. Is that the name you prefer?–
–My biological name was changed. Jerry was the closest sound to my name.– Harry agreed and let his anger slip into his voice. Because this was all the man in front of him own fault. –Harry.– Voldemort hummed and straightened himself as the waitress entered with Harry’s hot drink.
“Damon.” Dumbledore called and Harry looked at him, unwilling to answer to the name – he could feel Voldemort’s amusement at it. “You need to be sorted before you go to the school and to your new dormitory.”
Harry nodded and set the mug down on the table before approaching the Headmaster who was with the sorting hat.
–For your own safety stay out of Dumbledore’s claws.–
Harry froze. Why was Voldemort speaking about it so openly where Dumbledore could hear him? “Now now, Tom. There is no need to hiss in uncertainty. Damon looks to me to be a perfect Slytherin.”
Hiss… bloody hell! Harry had outed himself as a Parselmouth! Not to mention the knowledge of Voldemort’s real person!
Dumbledore set the hat on Harry’s head.
‘Quite the dilemma we have here, don’t we, Mr Potter?’
It was either fight Voldemort and join the Gryffindors and barely expect to pass the year thanks to the Dark’s wrath. Or fight Dumbledore and stay under Voldemort’s manipulative control.
Harry glanced at Mr Yaxley.
‘Incognito is long gone.’ The Sorting Hat agreed. Harry didn’t need to reply to the previous question: the Hat knew. “Slytherin!”
The accomplished smirk in Voldemort almost made Harry shiver.
“Drink your drink, Jerry.” And the way the older said it almost sounded like his real name instead. “It will get cold.”
Harry sat down by the table and picked his mug. –BiT–
LV’s POV
Voldemort smirked as the Professors finally left with his Heir. The lad was a paradox. “My Lord?”
“Jeremy, warn your son. Young Peverell is my Heir even if unclaimed.” Jeremy nodded and picked his two-way mirror. Glancing at it, Voldemort turned towards Corban. “We should acquire a mirror for Harry himself as well.”
“I will work on it, Sir.” He agreed.
“Make certain that the Goblins will back you up on the god/majparent claims.” Corban agreed and with a bow of head he left.
“My son said your Heir has just entered into Slytherin’s dormitories. He was put in the top rank bedrooms.”
“Good.”
“My Lord, is it not dangerous to have your own Heir so close to Professor Dumbledore’s manipulation?”
“It may be.” Voldemort agreed. “Still, Dumbledore is not an active Professor any longer. Although, if he dares to call Harry out of school reasons to his office; I will love to see his face as he loses his own job.”
Jeremy smiled back.
–BiT–
Saturday, 2 September 1975
Harry sat down at breakfast besides Rabastan. His eyes were on the other side of the Great Hall where the Marauders were sitting, while talking and laughing between themselves.
“Trouble makers.” Rabastan spoke, bringing Harry’s attention back. “Your school year, so be careful around them. They live to pick on our house.”
Harry nodded thankfully. It was his family even so. “Timetables.” A voice claimed from over them.
Before Harry could even look up, his knee was grabbed under the table as a reassurance. It was hard not to blush. Slughorn looked through his heap of parchment and gave one to Harry and another to Rabastan with a smile.
“Thank you, Sir.”
Slughorn nodded and walked down the table. Harry opened his timetable. Every week day after 5 pm until 7 pm he’d have the culture classes with Mr Yaxley. On the weekends he’d have classes at Hogsmeade with Voldemort.
“Tempus.” Harry stood after looking the time, while his housemates looked back confused at seeing his spell for some reason. “I need to go change. I’ve class in less than a hour to which I have a wardrobe requirement and not to mention the walk towards Hogsmeade.”
Rabastan got out of whatever sputter before he nodded and signalled towards two classmates, who stood and left with Harry. They arrived the Common Room and only then did the others speak. “Is it true that you are the Heir of Slytherin? Of the Dark Lord?”
Harry glanced back from the clothes’ list Voldemort had set up for him, that he’d probably written on a parchment last night and given Slughorn.
“Yes.” He agreed, because why else had Voldemort been so insistent on having Harry in Slytherin? “For some reason I’m also a Parselmouth.”
The two nodded and Harry entered his bedroom, he put on his old Muggle clothes that were manageable enough. Finally he put on the school black robe and went out. The two accompanied him all the way to the school gates where Harry gave the slip that also had been included in his timetable. Mr Filch read it and with a sneer allowed Harry passageway. Voldemort was waiting for him and guided him down the road.
–Have you slept well?–
–The usual.– Harry shrugged and Voldemort raised an eyebrow. –I’m used to nightmares.– –How usual?–
–Every night.–
Voldemort hummed and opened the door to a house, letting Harry in.
–We’ll look up on that.– The Dark Wizard agreed before following Harry inside. –This will be our classroom from now on.–
“What will you teach me exactly?”
“First: how to tell the difference between English and Parseltongue.” Harry went deep red. “Second: how to fully get in touch with your full magic. And third: how to use it.”
“For your war? No, thank you.”
Voldemort smirked amused, going to sit on an armchair. “I’m not telling you to be my pawn.”
“Telling? No. That’s what you’re manipulating me to become.”
“Stop me.” Harry frowned. “You’re a Magical Sentient. That means you feel magic itself as if it was an entity by itself.
“Most of us only have five senses, you have a sixth sense. You see you hear you smell you taste magic. You can tell when it happens, when it doesn’t and how it happens. With training you can feel a Magical Core from another person, which in a way means that you can ‘listen’ to what they are thinking. People like me and Dumbledore have learnt to use Magic Words and a simple touch on the shoulder to manipulate people without their notice. Yet, you can tell when I do it even if you can’t fight it.”
“That’s false. I can fight the Imperius.”
Voldemort looked back with narrowed eyes and Harry tensed, facing himself for the Cruciatus Curse.
“Besides for blood quills, Basilisk’s poison and Imperius. Just how much more illegal stuff was used on you?”
Harry shrugged tense.
“Why are you pretending to care anyway? I am just an adopted child of a Ministry Member… which is your Death Eater?” Harry ended in a questioning tone as he wasn’t certain.
“Corban adopted you because my name appears on your blood test results. You are my Heir, since the Basilisk’s poison makes you a Parselmouth.” Harry hummed. “And Corban is one of my first Death Eaters. They call themselves the Knights of Walpurgis. The Elite.”
Voldemort signalled the couch before him and Harry sat down uncertain.
“I got the Parseltongue when my parents died. It wasn’t Professor Sn…” He shrugged, interrupting himself.
“The one who killed your parents?” Harry nodded, still tense. “I’m not mad at you nor am I going to curse you.”
The teenager froze and looked at the red eyes staring right back. “That’s what everyone says at first.”
The adult huffed amused.
“Funny. All my lifetime I was never allowed to be a child and now that I’m 15-year-old everyone is trying to impinge on me to be a child.”
The man before him leaned forward interested. “Then tell me, Harry. Who Are You?”
Harry frowned only to turn towards the Dark Lord with a raised eyebrow.
“Alice in Wonderland’s line? Really?” Voldemort limited to smirk. “I’m Harry. Just Harry.” “In the book this would’ve be the time where I’d ask you if you really are Harry.” Harry glared back at the amusement. “If I remember exactly by the end of the book you accept to be more than Just Harry.”
Voldemort stood and Harry huffed, crossing his arms. When the older returned from wherever he’d gone to, he’d brought a tray with a plate of cookies and a mug of tea. He set them on the tea-table between the couch and the armchair and sat again.
“Seriously?”
Voldemort smiled back as Harry glared at the cookies that Voldemort had spelled to have the words Eat Me on top. Not to mention the Drink Me on the mug. With a sigh Harry grabbed a cookie and nipped on it.
“I could’ve poisoned it.” Voldemort pinpointed.
“I was poisoned by Basilisk. There’s worst ways to die.” Voldemort hummed.
“I will inform Corban to test you for poisoning side-effects.” Harry nodded and set down the half-eaten cookie. “What is it?”
“Who baked these?”
“Bought them at the bakery next door before you came.” Harry hummed.
“I guess I’m just used to Muggle cookies then.”
Voldemort leaned forward and picked one cookie and tried it out.
“Magic baking.” Voldemort frowned as he looked at Harry then he stood. “Follow me.”
Harry followed the man to the kitchen who magically pulled all the ingredients to the kitchen counter. Harry didn’t need further encouragement and quickly set up the dough as he turned on the oven and when it was hot he set the cookies inside.
“Do you have a timer?” “Don’t you have a watch?” “It fell into the lake.”
“How do you tell the time?” “Can I perform magic?”
“As long as it’s inside this house and isn’t the Three Unforgivables.” Harry nodded and picked his wand.
“Tempus.”
Voldemort frowned as he watched the spell take effect for some reason. Then he summoned a clock from another room and set it on the counter.
“How old were you?”
“5.” Harry shrugged, popping unto the table. “My aunt and uncle had a son who was the triple of me. Most of my clothes were donated from him. Some of my 11-child-self’s clothes that were too big back then are now finally starting to look like they fit.”
“You cooked and baked for them?”
“Gardened. Ironed. Mopped the floor. Cleaned the rooms. Did the beds. The laundry…” Harry popped out the counter to check on the cookies.
“Would they still be alive they’d wish they weren’t.” Voldemort promised. Harry tensed. Now he understood why Voldemort wanted the address so much.
“I need to learn to think before I speak. This is common knowledge to me so I assume it to be the usual way.”
“And I need to learn it to teach you otherwise.” Voldemort agreed.
Harry took out the first batch of cookies and put on a new one. Then passed the cookies to a plate. Slowly, while blowing on it to cold it down, Voldemort picked one and tried it out. Harry glanced back as he looked up from the clock.
“Did I forget the right measurements? It’s been almost a year…”
“It’s good. Not great as that would mean a lot more work than this simple kitchen can offer. Still, it’s good.” Harry smiled only to tense at who he was smiling at… “And no, I’m not using Magic Words.”
–BiT–
LV’s POV
Voldemort kept nipping on the hot cookie as the lad before him obviously had trouble between his eagerness at being congratulated and the fact that the one doing it was Voldemort himself.
“Was it a Dark Wizard who killed your parents?” A nod was all he got. Voldemort hummed, it would be a hard job to deal with. “Usually I would say that you were too young to remember. That is not the case, is it? Your own magic remembers them, does it not?”
why my wolffather taught me how to perform a Patronus when I was 13-year-old.” Voldemort hummed.
“How good is it?”
“Expecto Patronum!” Harry stated without thinking twice and a stag left his wand, only to gallop around Harry like a puppy. Harry smiled sadly, before he took the cookies and closed the oven. “Done.”
The lad looked up as he set the tray on the sink to find Voldemort staring at the Corporeal Patronus.
“You could perform this at 13?”
“Actually my first Corporeal Patronus was two months before my fourteenth birthday. I was attacked by the Dementors. Coming September was the new tutor so you can guess why I was fighting Dementors.”
Voldemort hissed under his breath angrily at the Aurors.
“Coming September… you spent two years with the manipulative tutor?” Harry nodded as he picked the plate of cookies to move back to the living room. “Why a stag?”
“Father. He is an illegal Animagus.” The lad frowned. “Was.”
Voldemort did not comment on the wording. Many orphans back at the orphanage did it all the time without even realising. It was an instinct to be able to withhold the orphanage, to pretend family is alive and will come to pick them up from the orphanage eventually.
“So let’s talk about your ability to kill ‘Jabberwock’ or do we speak about the ‘Red Queen’ instead?”
The lad huffed.
“You do realise I wasn’t allowed to read at the relatives and at the school, even if I did hide in the library from the bullies, I didn’t swallow every single book. I don’t have the emotionality for it. I get bored.”
Voldemort nodded amused.
“And you can still guess what I am talking about.”
“I may not have a mind palace like a certain highly functioning sociopath, but I still remember some things.”
Voldemort could not help it and laughed.
“Maybe you should get a police box. It would give you all the time in the world to read and organize a mind palace.”
“I may have a wand but it isn’t sonic.” The child teased back. Voldemort smiled. So the child knew his Classics.
“Don’t worry, for that we have you.”
Voldemort found himself laughing again. It was a strange feeling, principally considering how controlled he was. He glanced at Harry and knew that it would be the right approach with the youngest. He could not treat him like a Death Eater, most of them were Purebloods raised in a do-not-show-your-emotions upbringing. Still, Harry was still a British and was here showing all his emotions on his face as if he did not care that it could be used against him instead.
“Did you know that there is a Muggle cartoon called Tom and Jerry with a cat and a mouse?” Voldemort tried to remember the few cartoons he did watch on the shops’ TVs.
“One with a cat chasing a mouse and the mouse doing pranks back?” A nod. “I was already at Hogwarts at the time it came out. But I did hear the other orphans comment about it.”
Harry hummed.
“There is a dog as well. Jerry sometimes hides behind the massive bulldog for safety. I remember this one scene where Jerry hit the sleeping Spike who woke up to find Tom.”
Voldemort hummed, leaning forward and looking at the child in the eyes. “Are you threatening me of using Dumbledore against me?”
“Am I?” Was the reply, before Harry started sipping from his tea.
Oh yes. Harry was the perfect paradox. Emotions on his sleeves like a Gryffindor? Yes. Yet it hid his real self. The calculating one that watched Voldemort’s every move and took in the information for better process later.
He was a child with the mind of an adult and with the mask of a child to fool everyone who wouldn’t look at him twice. Still, Voldemort was watching. He was looking. He was waiting for the real Harry to show himself. Until now all he’d been allowed to meet was Jerry unless when Harry had been baking. He’d been forced to don’t think and by so his answer hadn’t been thought twice about it. Harry said that it was an usual occurrence, yet he had to know that it wasn’t. Abused children usually learnt to hide the abuse. To pretend it wasn’t happening. They quickly learn to lie to the authorities that no, they didn’t live in precarious situations. That they weren’t mistreated and neglected.
Voldemort would have to use the Muggle tricks to make his way into Harry’s real self. It would’ve be an interesting and amusing job. To win Harry’s trust without magical persuasion. While teaching him to control his full magic. To fully understand his abilities. To accept that he was anything but Just.
(TBC)
Chapter End Notes
Next chapter: Idiomlogy ~Isys
Chapter III –Idiomlogy–
Chapter Notes
Ner words: 2,260 "Talking"
'Thinking'
{Talking on the fireplace} –Parseltongue–
Thinking in 3rd person POV/Dream/Memory/Flashback/Others Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper
Time change/Date of time
Change of POV
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Chapter III –Idiomlogy–
Monday, 4 September 1975
HP's POV
Harry smiled as he finally found his own mother. Dark-red hair, petite figure and bright-green eyes.
“Don’t even go there.” Rabastan retorted. Harry raised an eyebrow in response, not looking away from his mother. “Muggleborn.”
“My Mum was a Muggleborn.” Harry argued.
“She’s the kind of Muggleborn that refuses the difference between Wizardry World customs and Muggle World ones.”
Harry sighed and pushed the Head Boy into a classroom. He locked the door and signalled the other for Silence Wards.
“I want your Magical Vow that what I’m about to tell you will stay between you and me.” Rabastan’s eyes narrowed.
“Then I won’t trust you with a secret.” Harry argued pointedly. “Dark Lord’s card, really?”
“Only reason I’m even telling you is because of that.” Rabastan huffed.
“That Gryffindor persona of yours that you use around like a layer really fools people into believing that you only entered Slytherin by family right.” Harry smirked back in return and the 17-year-old stared back surprised at the reaction. Then he picked his wand again. “I, Rabastan Jeremiah Lestrange, solemnly swear on my magic that the secret I’m about to be informed won’t be told in any type of way to anyone else but to the person telling me the secret until the person releases me from the secrecy. So be it!”
Harry watched fascinated as the magic left his wand and surrounded him and his heart. Rabastan signalled him to tell the secret.
“I’m from the future. Lily is my mother and James Potter is my father. Sirius Black is my godfather and Remus Lupin is the Werewolf. Severus Snape is the one I’m impersonating as the hating tutor as that was what he was, even if he never actually cursed me, just badmouthed me and breathed down my neck as I brew potions, making me mess up.”
Rabastan gaped and then gasped as the spell linked him to Harry’s own Magical Core before the light disappeared. Rabastan sneered.
“Talk about the secret of the decade!” “You don’t want it?” Harry asked amused. Rabastan huffed and stored his own wand.
“That’s not what I said.” He argued. “You didn’t said, but the one who kills your parents…?” “Voldemort.” Harry agreed. “Then, he accidentally passed some powers unto me… a memory of sorts. Which is how he must have made me his Heir, even I don’t know everything.”
Rabastan stared back as Harry approached the window and looked outside. “How are you here?”
“Voldemort recognized me and offered me the ability to meet my parents in the past since he can’t do it in the future.” Harry leaned his forehead on the glass. “My best friend in the future is also a Muggleborn. She also had trouble with changes. Then again we are just thrown from a Muggle environment into this one with no one to teach us. I have Mr Yaxley now, I guess.”
Harry could hear the older sigh.
“An argument for another day, I believe. Now there’s more pending facts; like your parents.” Harry raised his head and smiled back sadly. “You look nothing like a Potter.”
“Voldemort. I suppose he knew exactly how to shape me to stop looking so twin-like to my father.” Rabastan snorted.
There was a knock on the door and then they heard Rookwood’s voice – “Dumbledore” – from the other side. Rabastan undid the silence spells as he gave Harry the look that they’d talk later. They left the classroom and leaned against the door bored as Professor Dumbledore passed through their group. The elder man glanced back uncertain before continuing down the corridor.
“That was a close call.” Rookwood pointed out.
Rabastan didn’t reply. Harry could feel his stare on Harry, who instead was staring at his own mother passing through as she spoke and joked around with her friends.
–BiT–
RJL’s POV
Rabastan arrived his room at the end of the day and picked the two-way mirror. Father was waiting for him on the other side already.
{Long day, Father.} {Nothing serious, I hope.}
{Peverell made me make a Magic Oath and then told me a secret. That’s about as much as I am allowed to mention.}
His father hummed as he took in the news. {Can you handle the secret?}
{It’s… disconcerting but not unbearable.} Father nodded as he thought. {Father, what would’ve you do if you were told life changing events?}
{I was told life changing events when I was your age myself.} Father replied uncertain.
{Future that is yet to pass but you know as set in stone?} Rabastan asked only to grab unto his chest robe. That hurt!
{I’d accept it and would do my best to help out where I’m allowed.} Father replied and Rabastan nodded, not trusting his own voice. {I’m sending you a tea with a calming potion. Drink it all, then sleep. We won’t speak about this again until you are released from the oath. Still, I’ll tell you this much: It’s a privilege that you have been chosen so make certain that you deserve said privilege.} {Thank you, Father.} Father nodded sadly and closed the conversation. Didn’t take long for the family house elf to pop in. “Prepare a hot cocoa and give Heir Peverell.” He ordered and the Creature bowed before popping out.
Merlin’s beard! Barely the mention of a possible Seer had been enough for this much pain. Rabastan didn’t want to fandom how it would be if something really happened and he was forced to step back in fear of the pain.
–BiT–
LV’s POV
“Something out of the ordinary in the usual report?”
A curt nod was the only answer until Jeremiah approached and sat down before him.
“Young Heir made Rabastan take a Magical Oath in trade for a secret. It has something to do with future and that even if Rabastan would like to change it has already happened. Just the mention of this was enough to give him a heart attack on his Magical Core.”
Voldemort frowned.
“Sentients are not Seers. Still they can sometimes tell by touching more than one person when one will die because of one thinking of killing the other…”
“It sounded like the future was set in stone and couldn’t be changed.” “Which is what troubles me. Did your son sound scared of the future?” “No. He said it was disconcerting yet bearable.”
“Whatever it may be; I am certain that this will not be the first time he will feel the after-effects. Tell him to grab his chest and look back pointedly every time we are close to make him lose his magic.”
Jeremiah nodded thankfully. Voldemort frowned as he looked down at his paperwork. What could Harry really know to cause this?
“Rabastan ordered our house elf to serve Young Heir a mug of hot cocoa.” Jeremiah added. Voldemort snorted.
“He will get addicted if he continues swallowing chocolate this way.” –BiT–
Mid September 1975
HP’s POV
Harry glanced at Remus Lupin, who was sitting at his side by the lake close to the tree that lead to the Shrieking Shack.
“So…” Harry smiled as Lupin signalled his own nose instead of saying anything else. “I was wondering if you’d be able to sniff it out on me or not.”
“Should I tell James?”
Harry glanced at his father by the side.
“We can’t.” He argued. “I came to watch from afar. Not to interfere.” “What about me?”
Harry shrugged.
Lupin sighed.
“I won’t like it, will I?” Harry shook his head. “Give my Sire as your tutor’s Sire.” The teenager offered. “He’ll understand who is the Omega Werewolf.”
“Omega?”
“Packless.” Lupin replied and leaned back on his hands as he looked up to the sky. “What should I do?”
“Enjoy every minute you get with your human Pack. It’ll all be worth it in two decades to come.” “I will.” He agreed.
–BiT–
Saturday, early October 1975
Harry entered the house and looked around. Voldemort wasn’t there yet. Harry set up breakfast as he usually did on the dining room. When he was finally done – even finished with the cookies for the day – the front door opened. Harry left the kitchen and went to the living room where Voldemort was entering. Voldemort looked back at Harry as he cleaned his hands in the kitchen rag.
“Should I say: Honey, I am home?”
“If you want to get cursed.” Harry retorted harshly. “Breakfast’s set.” “Put an extra plate on the table.”
Harry glanced back, puzzled. Still, he nodded and went to finish cleaning his hands before he set up another seat. Voldemort entered with a man behind him. Harry glanced at the other, uncertain. “You mentioned that your Werewolf tutor used to be Greyback’s Omega turned Cub. Fenrir made a request to meet you.”
Harry bowed his head and showed his neck at Greyback just like Lupin had taught him to do. Greyback approached and sniffed the back of Harry’s neck before he straightened.
“Pup indeed.” He agreed.
“You can straighten and sit down.” Voldemort offered.
Harry was fast to obey. He served everyone and, at Voldemort’s nod, he started eating. He was starving, after all, since Voldemort insisted on breakfast together.
“Thank you, Pup.” Harry nodded back.
“How much do you know of Werewolf culture?”
“My parents were the Human Pack of Moony. I was their only Pup. My Father was the Alpha according to what Moony told me. When he died Moony gets a little lost.”
“How much do you know of your Cub?” Voldemort asked. Greyback sneered and Harry snorted.
“Ever heard the term Light Domesticated Wolf?” Greyback asked back.
“A Werewolf who refuses anything remarkably Dark and is pro-antiwerewolf.” Voldemort agreed. “Not an usual occurrence.”
“Happens when the parents’ closed minded mind-set interfere.” Greyback argued, looking directly at Harry. “Not completely unheard of since Pup has already met another Cub in the same mentality.”
Voldemort turned on Harry at once. “Why was I not informed?”
“Of what? Someone else’s wish to stay in the background?” Harry asked. “Of hiding his real self so he can coexist in the world? Want to speak of fake layers? Fine; let’s start with the Riddle persona!”
“Persona?” Voldemort asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Tom Marvolo Riddle may be your biological name. Still, this isn’t your real you. Not anymore. Snake-shaped nose. Red cat-shaped eyes. White deathlike skin…” And just like that Voldemort’s body started to shape returning to his ‘original’ body. “Yeah, that’s the one.”
“He is one of a kind as you mentioned, Darkest Lord.” Greyback laughed as he drank his tea. Voldemort was looking at Harry intrigued.
“Even after all these weeks the knowledge he can absorb from a single person by just a touch of magic still astonishes me myself, Fenrir.”
“What else would’ve you expect from a Heir and One?” Greyback cracked.
Harry felt a shiver at the way Voldemort immediately turned his full attention on Greyback with a narrowed look.
–BiT–
“You wanted to talk?” Lupin asked as he joined Harry in the library that night.
“Greyback paid me a visit today at Hogsmeade. He recognized me as Pup.” Lupin nodded, both looking through the bookcases. “Do you know what is a One? I can’t find the term anywhere.” Lupin looked at the books Harry was reading and pushed him down a series of bookcases, before he grabbed a tome about Werewolf Idiomlogy. He opened it, with Harry glancing around to make certain they weren’t sighted, and stopped at a page after some fast reading and passing pages. “One: Werewolf term used for destined lovers. Werewolves believe that the Moon picks someone out of a million to be their destined one and that no one else would ever feel right.”
Harry stared at Lupin, who looked up from the book.
“Looks like it.” Lupin agreed as he stored the tome back. “He isn’t fully right in the head, anyway.”
The two froze at hearing the Librarian chiding James, Sirius and Peter up. Lupin nodded back before he disappeared down a corridor. Harry approached the entrance through a different corridor of bookcases and saw his father pass an arm over Lupin’s shoulders.
“Come on, Moony, it’s a Saturday. Give it a rest!”
A hand grabbed Harry by the back of his shoulder and pulled him out of the Marauders’ sight. Harry turned to glare at Rabastan, yet found Snape-fifteen-self instead.
“Are you trying to start a fight between Slytherins and Gryffindors?” Snape snapped soundlessly. Harry tried to release himself but Snape-Jr didn’t seem to get the memo, who then was grabbed by the back of the neck harshly and strongly. Young Snape released Harry and Rabastan pushed him back by the neck into a group of other Slytherins in there. Rabastan raised an eyebrow at Harry in question who shook his head in return.
“I’m walking Jerry back to the Common Room.” Rabastan told the others, who Harry noticed were manhandling Snape-teenage-self. “Take care of this?”
The others nodded and Snape was pulled into the back of the library. Harry was guided out of the library and downstairs to the dungeons.
“Thanks.”
“I could feel your magic seek mine in fear. As soon as I saw Snape I understood what was going on… why was he holding you back? He knows better than to make direct contact with you.”
“I was watching the Marauders passing through. He thought I was calling for trouble.” Rabastan huffed.
“May I be allowed to claim your former Mentor as a Prince to my father?” Harry frowned confused. “Snape’s maternal Grandfather is a Prince.”
“How… how should I phrase it?”
Rabastan glanced back, before ahead again. “I’ll teach you once we are inside.”
–BiT– mid October 1975
LV’s POV
Voldemort listened to Jeremiah as he gave Rabastan’s report. Apparently the Princes knew the Peverells and now the Halfblood Prince was in the same year as Harry.
“Sir, while telling about Snape there were moments where Rabastan grabbed his chest. Principally on the part where it is not the first time it happens.”
“I did and he answered that he asked the Dark Heir’s wording of explicit permission to speak about it.”
Voldemort narrowed his eyes.
“That means that whatever secret Rabastan is forced to stay quiet about involves the Young Snape somehow. Look him up. See what would be the reason for said thing.”
“Rabastan also said that he was given permission to speak about it with the Alpha fully without holdbacks as long as he keeps the secret himself.”
“I will warn Fenrir then.”
Jeremiah bowed his head and left. Voldemort threw his glass at the other side of the room, against a wall and breaking it. He would make Harry trust him even if it was the last thing he did. He was his Lord and yet he was ready to tell a Creature his secret instead?
(TBC)
Chapter End Notes
Next chapter: Sweet Sixteen ~Isys
Chapter IV –Sweet Sixteen–
Chapter Notes
Ner words: 2,398 "Talking"
'Thinking'
{Talking on the fireplace} –Parseltongue–
Thinking in 3rd person POV/Dream/Memory/Flashback/Others Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper
Time change/Date of time
Change of POV
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Chapter IV – Sweet Sixteen – Thursday, 30 October 1975
HP's POV
Harry sat in the Common Room waiting. From time to time he’d check Rabastan’s – by his side – watch. He knew he was driving everyone else insane but it was a ritual of his and even if in another date it was still this night. Then midnight. 31st. Harry closed his eyes. In his timeline he’d be at the Dursleys and it was 31 of July instead. Harry opened his eyes at the pop and saw the Yaxley’s house elf with a gift box and a letter.
“Young Master Jerry Sir. Master Corban Sir certain make Minty now birthday present deliver. Merry Sixteen, Young Master Jerry Sir.”
Harry chucked. Of course Mr Yaxley would’ve remember that Harry had the at midnight receive gifts ritual.
“Thanks, Minty.”
There’s a long silence as Harry accepted the gift and his letter, only to then he remember he wasn’t alone. Harry looked up suddenly very pale. Bloody Hell!
“It’s just a day like any other. There’s no reason to tell everyone. I was 11 when I first got my birthday gift. It was just past midnight like now. If I remember correctly there was even a cake?” Harry shrugged at his trail of thought. “All I ever did was gifts at midnight. There’s no need for anything further.”
“Does your Lord even knows your birthdate?” Rookwood asked.
Harry frowned, only to realize the tables were being cleaned and Rabastan and the Prefect had left the Common Room.
“He never asked.”
“He never asked.” Several classmates parroted horrified. “Who has two-way mirrors?” Several arms appeared in the air mid-cleaning. “With parents with connections to the Lord?”
A couple of students run to the dormitories as Rookwood reminded Harry of his letter and gift. Not really understanding the big deal, Harry opened the letter first.
–BiT–
LV’s POV
Voldemort looked up as both Jeremiah and several other Death Eaters entered his office uninvited. “Today is the Dark Heir’s birthday.” They all claimed before he could grab his wand and curse them. “Apparently he was taught not to celebrate it.”
Voldemort massaged his eyebrows. He would have a long chat with the child next Saturday. “Did anyone know at all?”
“Corban.” Jeremy put in.
Who obviously had thought that Harry had told everyone when he would make 16.
“Go on, then. Neither of your children is prepared for a birthday party.” He dispensed them and in no time he was alone. He stood and grabbed a set of books he had been meaning to give Harry for a while and set them in a package before getting it under his arm. He approached the fireplace and floocalled Professor Slughorn. {Professor.}
{Ah, Tom. Came to give your agreement for tomorrow’s dinner party?}
{I am afraid that your invitation must have lost it’s way, Sir.} Voldemort argued and Professor Slughorn frowned, sadly. {Maybe it will be best to send the invitations through Jerry from now on.}
{Of course. I just didn’t wish him to think I was treating him like an owl.} Voldemort smiled back.
{Though, I am contacting for another reason. Right now, at midnight, Jerry has turned 16-year-old. As tomorrow is a wizardry holiday I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to a small gathering at Slytherin Common Room to celebrate it.}
{Of course. Come on in. I’m afraid I’m short-handed on gifts right now. But 16? If the Lord agrees for a first try at Fire Whiskey?}
Voldemort nodded and then walked forth, before taking the ashes away from his person. Professor Slughorn walked around as he picked one of his bottles and set up the wrapping.
“Jerry himself thought it was not worth the effort of warning anyone. Luckily I already had a set of books I intended to give him myself.”
“Corban?”
“Sent a gift through his house elf and, by so, outed Jerry out.”
Professor Slughorn nodded and grabbed the gift, ready. The two left the room and went down to the dungeons and Slytherin Common Rooms. Harry was reading a letter on the couches before the fireplace. A gift box by his side. The students were setting up the tables with a quick makeshift party.
–Jerry.– He called and Harry looked up, going deeply pale as a table by the side started to fill up with gifts that the students’ house elves were bringing. –Why did I have to find out by my own men?–
–I don’t celebrate it. I don’t really understand the point of that.– The lad argued, signalling the tables being set up. –It’s quite frightening actually.–
Voldemort sighed and approached his Heir. It was not like he did not understand where he come from.
“Open your majfather’s gift.”
Harry nodded and picked the box, opening it. Inside was a wristwatch with the Yaxley’s insignia on the visor, a snake on one of the bands and a wolf on the other. A family watch for the lad. Harry took out his old one – which Voldemort was going to incinerate – and set up the new one.
“Is that for me, Sir?”
Voldemort offered the box with the books, sitting down on his former armchair. “Happy birthday.”
Harry accepted embarrassed and opened it only for his eyes to grow as he read the titles of the books.
“Is this…?”
“The entire collection.” Voldemort agreed. “Of each one.” Harry smiled ear-to-ear amused at the joke.
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Do not thank me I will expect a complete essay on each book by the time you end them.” “A reading response essay?” Harry teased back. “What am I? 9?”
Voldemort smirked amused.
Harry shook his head and hugged the books’ package close. “There’s no need.” The lad argued worried.
Then again, he had a good reason to be worried. Voldemort stood. “Come on, you have a birthday party going on.”
Uncertain, Harry set his books package down with the letter and went to his classmates to celebrate his own birthdate. Voldemort glanced over the students and his eyes landed on Snape by the side. He had not even risen from his lower rank seat and his face was in a book. Harry’s white cat mewled at it’s owner who immediately leaned down and picked it up.
“Hey there, big Sister. I know. It’s a little crowded this year’s celebration, isn’t it?”
Harry humanized the pet? It would die eventually considering it’s own age. It would be best for him not to.
–BiT–
Friday, 31 October 1975
HP’s POV
Harry looked up tiredly as Lupin approached him with a smile. “We’re in the middle of the Great Hall.” He pointed out. Lupin nodded amused and set a simple box before Harry. “Happy birthday.”
“How did You find out?”
“I’m a Perfect. It’s on your school file.”
Harry smiled. In other words, Lupin had bothered looked it up, unlike everyone else. He opened his gift and found a necklace with a crescent moon with a small ball like precious stone.
“Thanks.”
Harry set it on and Lupin smiled back before he returned to his table. Harry could feel the stare of the Marauders and Dumbledore. Rabastan huffed.
“You and me; talk after brunch.”
Harry nodded without argument. By the time they were alone Harry was left gaping. Moonstone. A Werewolf Pack claim. Lupin had just claimed him before the entire school without anyone realizing what he was really doing…
–BiT–
Saturday, 1 November 1975
