Chapter One: Smoke and Mirrors

3rd Summer-July 30th 1993

The street was silent the evening before Harry's thirteen birthday, the preteen stopping before the empty house on Wisteria Walk that had once belonged to his babysitter.  Since that fateful summer evening when the accident occurred, none had yet moved into Number 17 Wisteria Walk, only a couple streets from Privet Drive.  It played vividly in Harry's mind, Mrs. Figg crouched into the middle of the road, arms laden with shopping bags... his voice being shrouded by a blaring horn...the screech of tires...a thud followed by silence.  Harry had been unable to move, unable to go to his babysitter's aid as she was dragged underneath the bus. Stunned at what he had witnessed, this being the first death he had seen in the muggle world, a stranger had taken the shocked child back home, informing them of what had happened.  A few days later workers from the RPSCA had come to collect the cats that Mrs. Figg had owned and found a malnourished black dog hiding in the house as well, something odd given Mrs. Figg was known as the batty old cat lady.   Still, the dog had no tags and was taken to the pound with the cats.

Shaking his head, Harry continued his walk, heading towards the park where he sat at one of the picnic tables, staring up at the starry sky before dropping his gaze to his arm, staring down at the scar there.  He was lucky to have survived to his thirteen birthday after the events of the previous year with the Basilisk and the Chamber of Secrets.  Though Fawkes tears had stopped the venom spreading and closed the wound, it had left a permanent scar.  He'd also woken up in terrible pain on the morning of the summer solstice, unable to breathe comfortably until he had started a fire in the hearth though that had gotten him in trouble with his uncle. Harry hadn't spoken of feeling like the venom was still inside him to his friends, nor how he loved fire and used to make flames dance for Dudley when he'd been small until Uncle Vernon saw it.  Ron wouldn't understand and Hermione would say he was stupid and that it was impossible from Fawkes healing tears curing the wound.

Movement appeared in his eye as he looked up, a finger tracing the scar on his arm to see an owl coming towards him with a letter in its beak. He watched the bird fly towards him and alight on the table, dropping the envelope.   Harry turned it over to see the Hogwarts Crest on the back and opened it, pulling out a letter.

Dear Mr. Potter,

It is almost time for the third year to begin and third years choose their electives for the upcoming year which will be taken until their 5th year OWLs (Ordinary Wizarding Levels).  Students may take no more than three electives. The choice of electives at Hogwarts are Divination, Muggle Studies, Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes.  Included with this letter is a permission slip to Hogsmeade that all students third years and up can attend.   You will need a guardian's signature on the slip to attend.   Please write back with the electives you wish to take and send it back with the owl so classes can be scheduled for the upcoming year.

Sincerely,

Professor Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

P.S. I am aware you know nothing about your parents so thought you might be interested in what they took.   James took Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy, and Divination while Lily took Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures.  Your mother also took Art, Music and Ancient Studies as extracurricular activities. I believe the Potters were talented with Runes and Arithmancy.

Harry smiled to himself as he read what Professor McGonagall said about his parents electives and looked in the envelope where he saw the permission slip.  Harry hoped that he could manage to get Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia to sign it.  Divination sounded like a load of hogwash to him and there was no reason for him to take Muggle Studies since he lived with Muggles.  He enjoyed animals as he did gardening so immediately decided on that class and he did enjoy drawing so maybe he'd look into taking Art as an extracurricular activity his third year.  Arithmancy sounded like an advanced form of Divination to him, and he wasn't good at math.  Deciding on Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes, Harry carefully tore off a piece of parchment from the letter and wrote that he'd be taking Creatures and Runes for his third year before sending it off with the owl. 

"Convicted of murder thirteen years ago, Black is 5'9.5" with black hair, white skin and grey eyes. Possibly wearing a gray prison outfit and carrying a gun, the public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hot line has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately."

"Hang on! You haven't even told us where he's escaped from!  He could be walking up the street right now!"

"Uncle Vernon?"

"What is it boy?"

"Third years can go to Hogsmeade on weekends but I need a permission slip signed by you or Aunt Petunia," said Harry, not daring to hope his uncle would do this for him.

"Give it here boy." Harry stared at his uncle who hadn't yet moved from his chair, hardly daring to believe he had heard right.  That was when his uncle turned his head to stare at Harry. "Well boy?!  I haven't got all night!"

Harry jumped at his uncle's tone and hurried to remove the slip and his pen, going to the couch and handing them to his uncle who then wrote Harry's name at the top and then signed and dated the permission slip before thrusting it back into Harry's hand.  "You can send that with your owl boy and tell it not to come back here.  You can meet it at that school o yours and you should know Marge is coming here tomorrow for a week."

"Aunt Marge is coming here?!"

"Yes, and she doesn't know about your... freakishness.  As far as you're concerned  boy, you go to St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. You'll be on your best behavior while Marge is here or there'll be trouble.  Now get rid of that bird and go change.  There's a couple sandwiches and some soup you can heat up in the fridge tomorrow for lunch. We're going out."  Harry hurried from his uncle's sight before the beefy man could change his mind, wondering what could have snapped in his uncle's mind.  Not only had Uncle Vernon  signed his permission slip for the upcoming school year but they were going out and he was being included.

"Hedwig, take this to Hogwarts," said Harry as he ran into his room and over to Hedwig's cage. He then went to his desk and pulled out an envelope, slipping the permission slip inside it and addressing it to Professor McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall

Hogwarts

Scotland, UK

Licking the flap and making sure it was closed, he headed back to Hedwig and held out his arm, tying the letter to a leg before carrying her to the window, the bars not having been replaced after his summer second.  "You'll have to stay at Hogwarts for the rest of the summer.  Aunt Marge is coming to spend a week here and she doesn't know I can do magic.  I'll see you on September 2nd, okay girl?"

"Hoot," said Hedwig, nipping his finger affectionately before allowing Harry to throw her into the sky, the owl heading off for Hogwarts.   He then looked through his closet, trying to find something presentable that would fit him before changing and finding he had grown a couple inches as his pants were now above his ankles, his pants no longer hanging loose either and he undid the belt that he used to keep them up, finding they suddenly fit.  When did that happen? Did I hit a growth spurt? Shrugging, he put his glasses on, only to winch as a searing pain appeared behind his eyes. Removing his glasses, Harry rubbed at his forehead as he ran a brush through his hair, missing the way his hair was beginning to change color at the roots.  Maybe the glasses are finally failing. I never got a prescription for these...or rather Aunt Petunia didn't.  Though, come to think of it, I've been having headaches since midsummer, and they seem to go away when I take off my glasses.  Can magic heal your eyesight?  He then left his room as his uncle hollered for him and ran downstairs, joining Dudley in the backseat.

"Dudley don't start," said Vernon as Dudley opened his mouth to complain about Harry coming.  "It's time you quit mollycoddling the boy Pet."  This caused a stunned silence in the backseat as Vernon started the car and drove off, the family of four traveling to London and after Dudley got hit by Uncle Vernon after Dudley punched Harry in his shoulder, they continued in silence  Harry could only wonder what had happened to Uncle Vernon to treat Harry with some modicum of respect.  The ride was otherwise okay, Harry staring out at the passing city lights as they made their way to London.  Even the dinner, where Harry was allowed to pick the restaurant and choose his own meal, was strange but lovely. Oh, how strange and quickly life could change.

---

3rd Summer-August 6th 1993

Things had been tense since Marge's arrival.  Harry would have preferred to be in his room but Aunt Marge always wanted him around mostly so she could complain about him.  He should have known his uncle being nice was an act for he went back to treating Harry like he was dirt once Marge arrived.   Harry found it harder to control his temper around the obese woman and o course she had brought along her favorite  dog, her prized stud, Ripper. The last time Ripper came, Aunt Marge let Ripper chase a terrified five-year-old Harry up a tree and did not call the dog off until after midnight.  He could remember Dudley's laughter below him, his leg bleeding from the bite wound which had scarred over and given him a fear of dogs ever since though he tried not to let it show in front of his friends and Hagrid.

"Where did you say he went to school Vernon?"

"St. Brutus's," said Vernon.  "It's a secure center for troubled youth and incurable criminals."

"Do they use the cane at St. Brutus's boy?"

Harry glanced at his uncle who nodded curtly behind Marge's back.   "Oh yes ma'am.  I get walloped loads of times," said Harry.

"I don't like that tone boy. Obviously, they aren't hitting you hard enough if you can speak of your beatings so callously.  Petunia you should write to them, tell them you expect there to be extra force with this one. I won't hear of people who are mutts not getting what for."

"Yes Marge," said Petunia.

"More brandy Marge?"

"Yes Vernon...a little more...a little more...ah, that'll do."  She then took a gulp of her drink, sloshing some down her shirt and smacking her lips when she was finished.   "What did you say his father did?"

"Didn't work.  Unemployed," said Vernon. "Same with the mother."

"And a drunk too.  Died in a car crash, didn't they?"

"My parents didn't die in a car crash! They were murdered!"

"MORE BRANDY!  Boy...go to your cup...I mean room."

"No Vernon that's alright. Let the boy stay.  Your father was a swine and lazy bum who lived of the government and then got himself drunk and your whore of a mother wasn't much better.  This one's got a mean runty look about him.  You get that with dogs. Weak. Underbred. Like I always say, bad blood will out.  Had Colonel Fubster drown one last year.  Ratty little thing it was.  Weak. Underbred.   Still, it isn't your fault Petunia but your sister was a bad egg. It all comes down to bad breeding.  If there's something wrong with the bitch, there'll be something wrong with the pup.  Personally, I would have sent the ungrateful brat to an orphanage or drow..."

But Marge couldn't finish her sentence as she began swelling up, as if she were filled with helium.  She continued swelling, her voice failing her as she struggled to speak while Dudley, Vernon and Petunia stared with wide and frightened eyes at the scene before them.  Such was Harry's anger and hatred that he didn't realize he was beginning to affect the temperature of the room, Marge's skin beginning to heat up and slowly turn red. He didn't hear his uncle telling him to stop, anger and hatred surging through his body at the insults to himself and his parents.   It was bad enough he had to hear Snape's snide comments at school but to hear his mother called filthy names...he was brought back to reality as something hot and wet landed on his face before it slid down to the table with a plop and Harry blinked as within his hazy gaze, he glimpsed blood and flesh on the walls and floor, splattering his relatives, and unknowingly him as well.  Harry, without a second thought, turned and bolted for his room.  He ripped up the loose floorboard and grabbed his wand, cloak and photo album before bolting downstairs and out the door, not stopping to get his trunk and vanished into the night.

His legs gave out and he fell bodily to the ground, hand moving to his ace and when he pulled it away, it was stained red and sticky.  Unconsciously he found himself licking the blood that clung to his fingers, grimacing and yet savoring the taste of copper on his tongue.   It was nothing like he'd had before, rich and at the same time, sweet.   Then as if realizing what he was doing, revulsion overcame him and he found his stomach lurching with only the sounds of retching and haggard breathing  permeating the air as the blood stains walls surfaced to his mind's eye, playing on repeat.   What...what did I do?  As he tried to make sense of what happened, tried to piece it together in his mind, the warm air off summer suddenly became cold and he found his breath misting before him.  Harry wiped his mouth and got to his feet, an uneasy feeling settling in his gut as he looked around him, instinct telling him to run.  

He couldn't hear anyone chasing him yet he still he ran, his feet taking him down Wisteria Walk  to the alley connecting it with Magnolia Crescent.  Turning his head, he saw a trio of cloaked figures floating towards him as they drew closer, one reached out a hand, a glistening, grayish and slimy-looking appendage that was scabbed over.  Fear filled his eyes as he stumbled back, tripping and falling backwards...one...two...three of the foul creatures coming towards him.   His wand fell from his hand, clattering away from him and was lost in the darkness, his photo album also slipping from his grasp.   "What...no...no...stay away!"  As one of the creatures drew closer, Harry desperately shouted the first spell that came to his head.

"Lumos!"  Miraculously his wand lit up, and he scrambled to his feet to get it, the wand only a few feet away...but one of the creatures was on him and Harry's eyes widened in terror as he saw a face with only a mouth.   He felt fear, unbridled fear which he'd not felt when facing down the shade of Voldemort his previous two years at Hogwarts...he struggled futilely in its grasp as it lifted him effortlessly of the ground...the other two swooping in...a mouth coming towards him...its putrid and rattling breath causing him to lose his fight for survival...and when he opened his mouth to draw breath or scream...its mouth clamped down.

---

"Ah Harry.  Welcome back.  No need to get up just yet, I'm sure it's been quite the ordeal. Terrible business it is, rogue dementors in a Muggle neighborhood and with Sirius Black at large as well."  A voice broke through the fog in his brain, the adolescent opening his eyes to find himself in some sort of office.  A fire blazed in the hearth and Harry shifted, feeling a blanket on top of him.  As his vision came into focus, he saw a portly little man with grey hair sitting in a chair.  "Would you like some tea or cocoa?"

"Ummm...cocoa please.  "I'm sorry sir but who...what..."

"Rest Harry.  Have you eaten at all?"

Numbly Harry nodded.  "Marpey!"

A house elf popped into the office, bowing before Fudge, pale blue eyes glancing briefly at Harry before turning back to the man.  "Yes, Master Fudge?"

"Two cups of cocoa and some scones with cream and jam.  And make sure nobody knows Mister Potter is here."

"Yes Master." The house elf popped out and Harry slowly sat up, shivering.  He had a sudden urge to get closer to the fire and looked around the office  which had a mahogany door opening into it and green carpet with beige walls.   Not only was there the couch and hearth but also a desk and chair with two more across from it.  In the corner was a small dining table with four chairs around it.  A green rug lay before the fireplace.  A few minutes later, Marpey popped back in, setting the tray of scones and two steaming mugs of cocoa on the table before disappearing, Fudge motioning Harry to join him at the table.   

"Thank you, sir...but I'm afraid I don't know where I am or who you are. What...what were those...those creatures?"

"My name is Cornelius Fudge and I am the Minister for Magic or the United Kingdom.  The Ministry is the governing body of our world with each country holding a ministry that all wizards, witches and creatures must obey and listen to," said Fudge.  He took a scone and spread a dollup of cream and jam upon it after cutting it in half as he watched the young boy who he'd like any witch or wizard of Britain, had heard about since the downfall of the Dark Lord.  "You are at the Ministry of Magic, specifically, my office," said Fudge.

Harry took a scone and copied the Minister, taking a bite and finding the scone melted in his mouth, being the perfect texture.  "Sir, how did I get here?"

"When you were found, one of the dementors was...it's a terrible fate reserved for the worst criminals.  It is a fate worse than death and is the fate reserved for Black when he is caught. That is what these creatures are called, Dementors.  We use them to guard the wizard prison Azkaban.  But there's really no need for guards when people are trapped within their own heads. Two hit wizards were searching for the rogue dementors when they stumbled upon them and managed to rescue you in time before your soul was taken. They dealt with the creatures and then brought you here to my office and the safety of the Ministry.  With Black on the loose, it's safer for you to be at the Ministry until the start of the school year," said Fudge.  "For your own safety, I'm afraid you cannot be allowed to wander around unsupervised without an escort nor tell any friends where you are."

Harry frowned but it wasn't like he could talk to his friends anyway with Hedwig being gone. Besides, Hermione had said she was going out of the country with her parents this summer and they'd likely expect to see him on the train on September first.   He didn't know that Ron was out of the country with the rest of his family for the remainder of the summer either.  "What about my school supplies and money?"  Harry didn't understand who Sirius Black was or what this man had to do with him remaining at the Ministry for the rest of the summer, but it was better than being on the streets nor of seeing the disgust in his friends' eyes if they found out...his stomach lurched and Harry vomited.  A wave of Fudge's wand cleaned the mess up and he slipped his wand back into its holster. 

"Now Harry, how did you come to be in that alley? The hit wizards also said you were covered in blood when you were found.  Were you attacked?" 

A shudder passed down his spine as his mind flipped back to Aunt Marge saying things about his parents and then the blood...the flesh...the fire in the heart went down and a cold wind lowed through the office, a wind that seeped through underneath the door and yet seemed to come from nowhere.   Even the Minister shivered and cast a warming charm on the pair of them, yet strangely, Harry didn't feel affected by the sudden cold.   "Harry?  I thought you wore glasses?"

Harry looked at the Minister and started to lift a hand before putting it back down with a grimace.   He hadn't noticed it, but his vision was suddenly so clear without them, as I he had been in a fog all his life, and everything had been out of focus.   "I had a headache when I put them on. Wrong prescription I guess," said Harry with a sheepish shrug.  "My aunt never got me real glasses...she just plucked mine out of a lost and found bin."   He didn't' want to tell the Minister what he had done.  What if he were thrown bin Azkaban or sent back to the Dursleys?  He was sure they wouldn't take him back and if they did, he knew he wouldn't survive the night.  Yet maybe that was what he deserved.  What kind of a...a monster was he if he had...had blown up his aunt in a bloody mess...let alone licked...savored... her blood.  Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia are right.  I really am a freak.   What would my parents think of me?

Harry might not have seen much of what happened but the after result...the horror and fear...revulsion on his relatives' faces was burned into his mind.  But the Minister was allowing him to remain here rather than return to the Dursleys though he doubted anyone knew where he lived except for the twins and Ron.  Harry shook his head but, in the end, decided to be truthful with the Minister and began telling him of Aunt Marge's visit and what had happened, ending with being attacked by the dementors.  For his part, Cornelius was silent though the man was horrified at what had occurred.   A tense silence filled the air between the adolescent and the Minister until Cornelius finally spoke.   "Well, Harry.  I'll have some people go to clean up the mess and get things sorted.  Now, why don't you get some rest and I'll see about a disused office somewhere being set up for you?" 

"Sir? Will...will I get sent to Azkaban or blowing up my aunt?"

"Due to certain circumstances, I'm sure we can let it slide," said Cornelius.  "Was it intentional to kill your aunt?"  Harry shook his head, the realization of what he had done still not hitting him until that moment.  He, the Boy-Who-Lived, had killed someone! Accidentally of course but it was something he couldn't have thought himself doing and he doubted his friends would believe him either when they heard.  No...if they hear about it and I don't plan on telling them. They'd be rightfully scared of me, and I can't...I don't want to be alone again like last year.  He was sure that Snape would believe it was further proof that he was a horrible person.   "Well, then there's nothing to worry about.  But no, we don't send children to Azkaban for a bout of accidental magic!"  He laughed but it was strained, Cornelius excusing himself after and leaving his office, locking the door behind him, and putting wards up to prevent Harry from wandering.  He then called Marpey, ordering it to watch Harry but remain unseen by him and gave it permission to do what was necessary to keep Harry confined to his office before heading off to see about a room being prepared for their young guest for the remainder of the summer.

---

3rd Summer-August 17th 1993

Fortescue's was, in Harry's mind, a wonderful place to finish up his homework.  Not only did the owner of the ice cream parlor know a lot about medieval witch burnings, he also gave Harry free sundaes every half hour.  The weather was not as hot as it had been in years past, rather the weather was dry like usual with summer but not unbearably so, the temperatures of what were known as the dog days of summer being cool.  He enjoyed being able to just relax...Hermione would be proud when she learned he'd done his homework during the summer and was taking, what she would undoubtedly call sensible classes instead of Divination like Ron was taking.  Granted, Harry had considered Divination at the end of his previous year, Ron saying it was an easy grade, but Harry wanted to know more about his parents and didn't believe in predicting the future, reading tea leaves or tarot cards.  

He'd talked Fudge into letting him go out for a bit on his own, though found Aurors and Ministry officials were always nearby, watching and keeping the teen supposedly safe from Black. Harry found it suffocating and wished he'd thought to wear his cloak more often but what harm could come to him in Diagon Alley when he was surrounded by dozens of adult witches and wizards?   As he was sitting at Fortescue's, an owl came towards him, landing on the table and knocking his milk over, clutching an envelope in its beak.  Harry removed it and the bird took off, the young boy seeing it was from Hogwarts.  He opened the envelope and pulled out a letter which he scanned, having to move the hat's bill around to the side as Fudge had insisted he wear a hat when he was going out to Diagon Alley and always stay in sight of an auror or hit wizard.

Dear Mr. Potter,

Third years will require the following items for the upcoming school year:

Replenished supply kit for Potions and Herbology

Replacement Pewter, standard size 2 Cauldron (if necessary)

Quills, ink, and parchment

Replacement glass or crystal phials for Potions

Necessary clothing consisting of muggle clothing, dragonhide gloves, robes, three winter cloaks, two summer cloaks, scarves, hats, etc.

Toiletries

The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3 by Miranda Goshawk

Intermediate Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

The Essential Defense Against the Dark Arts by Arsenius Jigger

Wizarding Cultures of the World by Amelia Fey

Advanced Wizarding Society by Augustus Prince

Wizarding History of the Isles and Continent by Julius Washington

Pertaining to your electives, you will need to add the following books:

The Monster Book of Monsters by Edwardus Lima (for Care of Magical Creatures)

Spellman's Syllabary by Rosana Amorin (for Ancient Runes)

You might find the following books helpful for Runes and I recommend purchasing them Mr. Potter.

Ancient Runes Made Easy by Laurenzoo

Rune Dictionary

Remember, the train leaves from Platform 9 ¾ at 11:00 AM sharp on September 1st.  I do not want a repeat incident of last year Mr. Potter if you are unable to get through the platform. Otherwise, I shall see you at Hogwarts at the beginning of term.

Professor Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Harry found himself grateful for the recommended books that would help him within one of his electives this year and hoped to make his parents proud.   Knowing he needed to get his textbooks and school supplies, Harry got up and packed his history of magic textbook and parchment before looking at the hit wizard who was sitting nearby. "I'm going to Gringotts to get money so I can get school supplies," he said. The man lifted his scarred face to the child and nodded curtly, watching as Harry made his way to the junction where the south side of Diagon met with the north side.  It was only as he got to Gringotts that he realized that he had forgotten to get his key which was locked within his trunk back at the Dursleys in his old cupboard, well, assuming it was still there.   However, that thought brought back what he had done, and he shuddered as he walked into the bank, passing the guards on either side with their swords at their waists.

There was nothing for it but to go ahead and try to get into his vault without his key.  He couldn't return to the Dursleys, couldn't face what he had done, and so had to hope for the best that he would be allowed access to his vault.  Entering the bank, he was glad that there weren't a lot of people.  It meant that he should hopefully be able to get in and out easily plus have time to get his school supplies before the crowds began.  None paid the teen any attention to which he found himself grateful, yet he hung back and waited for the others to complete their transactions.  Once the bank had emptied of customers, Harry made his way to a teller and coughed.  The goblin looked up from the papers he was writing and peered down at Harry.  "What it is it wizard?"

"Sir, I'd like to get into my vault please," said Harry, remembering Hagrid's words about being respectful to the goblins if one wanted things to go smoothly. 

"Do you have your key?"

Harry shook his head.  "No sir.  I forgot it at my relatives."

"Then I'm afraid I can't help you." The goblin, in Harry's opinion, didn't look sorry about the fact that he couldn't help the young wizard standing before him. 

"Please.  I need access to my vault to get money for supplies."

"No key, no access to your vault," said the goblin.  The goblin turned back to the papers he had been looking over, causing Harry to frown.

"Sir, isn't there some way I can prove who I am?"

"This is a bank wizard, not a barrister," said the goblin.   "If you wish to prove your identity, you need to go to a barrister and without access to your vault, there is no way that can happen.  "Now, leave before I need to call security," said the goblin.   Harry frowned, leaving the counter and the goblin behind his mind while he tried to figure out what to do. He didn't even know if there were any barristers in the wizarding world, Ron nor Hermione having ever brought it up. Nor had any of his professors, not that Harry had asked.  Come to think of it, nobody has brought up careers after Hogwarts, thought Harry.  He refused to ask for  money from Minister Fudge as the man had already done enough for Harry, nor did he want to return to the Dursleys to retrieve his vault key.   Yet he knew he needed money to get his school supplies for the year, lest he get in trouble for not having them for he didn't doubt that any of his professors would take pity on him for what he had done. Snape sure wouldn't, the git. 

The bank was quiet but for the scratching of quills on parchment, Harry being the only customer.  Worry gnawed at him and therefore Harry did something rather stupid or arrogant as Snape might say and ran towards where he knew the carts were to take customers down to their respective vaults.  He managed to find an empty cart and jumped into it, though it was only then that he realized he didn't know how to steer it, however managed to figure it out before the goblins could get to him, the teen tossing a stunning spell over his shoulder at the goblins chasing him.   As the cart descended into the tunnels beneath Gringotts, it opened until they were looking down into a vast cavern.  It was like being on top of a roller coaster, though Harry certainly had never been on one for the Dursleys weren't one for amusement parks, given the size of Uncle Vernon and Dudley.  

Down into the darkness beneath Gringotts the cart went, Harry randomly moving levers and hoping the cart would remain on the tracks.   The cart went not only down but also did inversions which made his stomach twist into knots as each inversion put him momentarily upside down, yet even now at thirteen he still loved the Gringotts carts. It was like an adrenaline rush, almost like flying though nothing beat flying in Harry's opinion.   Everything underground was stone now, as if he were descending deeper into a mountain though knew that to be impossible since London was nowhere near any mountains.  Taking a turn around a bend as the cart descended deeper, Harry peered down and saw a waterfall falling into the abyss below him, a waterfall which would soon spell disaster for the young third-year.  

What is that? The thought briefly crossed his mind as he turned the bend, turning to look behind him at the waterfall.  Where does the water come from, this far underground?  Harry clung to the levers as the cart hurtled down a hill and then spun before passing through the waterfall which unknowingly washed away the glamor that had been on him for the past thirteen years.  Soaked to the skin, the water being like ice, the next thing Harry knew was he was falling into the chasm below as the cart derailed off the tracks, falling to the bottom of the chasm as well, the wind rushing past Harry's ears.   The cart fell faster than Harry did, the teen not even registering that he had gone past his own vault and a surge of fear flew through him as he realized that he didn't hear the cart crash or hit the bottom.  How deep is this? Did I...no...there's no other way to get to my vault.  But I don't even know...

His thoughts were cut off as he slammed into the stone floor beneath him, a sharp crack renting the air and pain surged up his wrist and leg, Harry turning his gaze to see that his leg was bent awkwardly.  It had to be on the leg where he had a scar as well from Ripper when he was five during Aunt Marge's visit as well and Harry knew he wouldn't be walking anywhere.  He'd gotten a wrist before when Dudley had pushed him off the jungle gym at primary school, so he remembered the pain. Harry had been forced to write with his left hand, which was a struggle as he was right-handed. His relatives certainly wouldn't have let him take off school to recover and his chores had been difficult as well. When he attempted to move, a sharp pain wracked leg, causing him to cry out in pain and lay back down on the cave floor, the rough stone cool beneath him with how far underground he was.  

---

Footsteps were the first thing to bring the teen around, his head having been resting on the cold stone, but as he looked up he saw several goblins with swords and spears pointed at him.  The goblins all stared at the teenager, some emotionless, others with anger evident on their features which made the goblins look even more fearsome.  "So wizard, you aren't even the person you claim to be," said one of the goblins.  "Not only did you try to steal gold from a vault that you had no access to, let alone have somehow managed to access it in these past two years but you stole a Gringotts cart and attacked a goblin."

Harry was confused by everything the lead goblin was saying.  "Please...I think my leg..."

"That is not our concern wizard.   Such a slight on our part concerning our security will be corrected but you must face punishment for these transgressions."

Again, Harry's mind was a blank as the goblin in charge of this expedition spoke, the others remaining quiet yet in a circle, a circle that drew in as Harry attempted to move, the weapons facing inward towards him.   He knew he couldn't get far on a broken leg, nor could he hope to navigate his way back to the surface.   He had not brought his broom with him; therefore he had no way to fly out of here either.  "I don't understand," Harry said, his voice belying the confusion that he felt.  "How do I not have access to my parents' vault? I'm Harry Potter. I offered to prove it but the goblin teller I spoke to wouldn't let me."

"This is a bank wizard, not a barrister. We do not do wills or inheritance tests," said another goblin and as Harry looked, he saw it was Griphook speaking.  "Sir, I think it is time a punishment be decided. This young wizard's actions, of attacking another goblin, could have potentially started another war with wizards and goblins."

"No! That wasn't my..." But Harry fell silent as a spear stopped inches from his face, yet again he felt that strange emotion of anger boil in him at these lesser creatures daring to harm him.  He blinked, trying to swipe the anger away and yet beneath his anger was fear mixed with pain at his predicament. 

"What would you suggest Griphook?"

Griphook stared at Harry with no amount of disdain on his face before speaking.  "Throw him to the dragons and let him earn his death by fire," said Griphook.  There were murmurs around Harry before his hands and ankles were tied behind his back, his leg being bent backwards and causing a scream to echo from the adolescent before he was hogtied and then levitated behind them, this being the first time that Harry knew that Goblins could use magic.  He found that he couldn't get out of it, and struggle he did, and this only heightened his fear and anger before he felt something wash over him and he faded once more into unconsciousness.

---

There was a sharp knock on the door of Number Four, the hot blood having congealed and cooled as time passed within the house of the Dursley family.  Days passed as the family of three sat there in abject horror, none moving except for Petunia who tossed Ripper outside when the sounds of tearing flesh echoed in the room, and she noticed the dog eating the remains of Marge Dursley.  Only when the knock sounded again and louder at that did Petunia rise from the table and stumble in a daze towards the front door which she opened. There were two men, one dressed in a long robe, and one dressed in muggle clothing from the forties. Still in shock at what her nephew had done, she'd always known he was a freak like his mother, she barely registered that these must be wizards.   "Does Mrs. Dursley live here?"

Mutely she nodded, unable to find any words. It was the first time in a while that Petunia Dursley had been rendered speechless.  "We're here about your nephew, Harry Potter," said one of the Aurors.  "My name's Shacklebolt and this is Thames," he said, gesturing towards his companion. "May we come in Mrs. Dursley?"

Again, Petunia nodded, stepping aside though there was the faint tightening of mouth into a thin line as the pair of wizards entered the Dursley residence. "We never wanted the freak," she said, not denying that the boy lived there though after he had killed Marge, Petunia certainly never wanted to see her nephew again.  What kind of monster blew someone up?  "I don't know where he is but we're not taking him back...you can tell Dumbledore that as well or whoever in your lot's government.  He's gone too far this time."

Shacklebolt looked at Thames in surprise. Appointed by the Minster to check this out and sworn to unbreakable vows to mention why they were here at the Dursleys, let alone about Harry Potter being at the Ministry and even being under the Minster's protection, they were unable to say anything to anyone, not even their boss Amelia Bones, lest they lose their lives.  Both men entered the home which was the same as all the others on the exterior, as if whoever had designed this Muggle neighborhood had no creative mind other than to make cookie cutter homes divided only by house numbers, Thames shutting the door behind them.  "We understand there's been an...accident," said Thames. "Where's the body?"

"Some of it is undoubtedly in Marge's dog Ripper," said Petunia, shuddering in disgust.   "I threw the mutt out when I noticed Ripper eating what remained of his owner. Though I can't say Marge is any loss...horrible woman she is."  Petunia ignored the dried gore on her clothes and face, the woman leading them to the dining room were the two Aurors stopped in horror at what they saw.  A large beefy man and equally large son were sitting at the table, food untouched and covered in blood and visceral, blood splattering the table, floor, and walls.  Pieces of raw flesh, the blood cooled and congealed and the stench of death and rotting flesh at that as decay had set in permeated the room.  Both father and son, for there was no denying the resemblance, appeared what Muggles might call shell shocked but both wizards knew this was impossible since Muggles didn't experience such things. It was a well-known fact that wizards were superior in every way to Muggles, that they had to struggle through life and were more susceptible to disease and injury that a wizard or witch could easily cure within the span of minutes, if not hours.   Heck, they were still trapped within the thirties or forties period wise.  Oh, how wrong the British populace were concerning their vastly outnumbering mundane counterparts.

It was Kingsley who investigated both Petunia and Vernon's minds, his face twisting into a frown as he watched  Marge insulting the Potters and went further back in time to see how their young savior had been treated.  Thames went to examine the remains before turning and muttering a spell, cleaning the Dursleys of the caked-on blood and visage from their persons.   Even Vernon, who hated freaks as he called them, didn't have anything in him to say about the freaks in his house, still stunned at what his nephew had done to his sister.   Regardless, there was the unmistakable flinch from people scared of magic when Thames pointed his wand at each of the Dursleys in turn and cleaned them off before producing a camera and taking pictures of the crime scene as it were, Thames being a half-blood whose father was in law enforcement in the Muggle world knowing how important it was to preserve the scene of the crime.  He then investigated the young walrus's mind, going back further into the boy's mind to see the boy hitting Potter or getting the smaller boy in trouble and both his parents encouraging the behavior.  There were instances of the boy driving away children from Potter by bullying or threatening them, of Dudley and his gang harassing younger children and beating them up in the neighborhood, only to blame it on the Potter boy.

Both men were sick as they cast body bind curses on all three individuals and a silencing spell so they could talk in private about what to do, Kingsley producing vials from his cloak and pulling out the memories in question concerning the incident of Marge's death before pocketing them.  "The fat walrus, eh Mr. Dursley, has a fear and hatred of magic," said Kingsley to Thames.   "And the giraffe horse hybrid seems to have jealousy issues since before Harry was born, towards her sister which have been thrown onto her nephew all these years.  It seems they used to lock the boy in a cupboard until he started receiving letters from Hogwarts.  Petunia hit the boy over the head with a frying pan when he was little it seems and the boy," he gestured to Dudley, "is a spoiled brat who could do to lose a few stones. These people essentially treated the Potter boy like a house elf or a slave." 

Thames frowned at this information, understanding what Kingsley met.  "What should we do about the child?" He threw a murderous look at Dudley.

"Obliviate them of what happened which is standard procedure for magical accidents around Muggles," said Kingsley.   "After we get this mess cleaned up. But for now, we'll keep them all in body binds, so they don't cause trouble. As for the little whale of a boy, he's not much good as a slave though Muggles generally aren't kept as slaves in the UK wizarding world.   I say we obliviate him of ever having parents and the Dursleys of ever having known of Harry or having a son and ship him across the pond somewhere."

"Yeah...my dad says they have something in the states called foster care," said Thames.  "Or we just leave them in their body binds and set the house ablaze with them inside it."

"We aren't Death Eaters Markus," said Shacklebolt, addressing his partner by his first name.   "You can get a port key to somewhere in the states, right?"

"Yeah...it'll be expensive, but I'll take care of it."

"Right, I'll oblivate the parents then and get this mess cleaned up and we'll met back at the Ministry." Thames nodded and pointed his wand at Dudley before casting a memory charm, taking away memories of ever knowing of Harry Potter being his cousin and the Dursleys being his parents. It meant stripping thirteen years of memories, which was a tricky business, but Thames was proficient in it.   Once the child had been obliviated, he took Dudley by the arm and dragged the boy outside to the backyard and then disapparted when he was hidden from sight.  Kingsley muttered a few spells, waving his wand in a few complicated movements and had the mess vanished from the residence before turning to the Dursleys.

---

There was a strange sound, interspersed with the shuffling of paws on the ground as Harry came slowly back to consciousness.  He found himself lying within the middle of a pit, stone walls rising above him and as he craned his neck to look upwards, he realized he was deeper than he had been for he could hear the trickling of water as it came from somewhere down the walls, somewhere from above him.  As Harry's vision and hearing came back into focus, he could hear growling from somewhere nearby and out of the darkness of the pit, appeared a dragon wo hung back but stared sightlessly at the boy and Harry realized with a start that it was blind.  "Wizard," came a voice which echoed in the pit from above him and Harry craned his head back to look up, only just spotting the goblins several feet above him.  "With the crimes of theft from a pureblood family..."

"Halfblood sir since Mr. Potter took a Muggleborn as his wife," said another goblin.

"For the crimes of stealing from a former pureblood family, turned halfblood as a result of the former Potter head marrying a halfblood, for impersonating the child of said former pureblood house, stealing a goblin cart, attempted theft of a vault, two years of theft from said vault and attacking a goblin guard with a stunning spell...you have hereby been sentenced to death by dragon fire," said an old goblin.  "Let the crime be carried out as witnessed by some of the British colony," said the goblin.  The clankers then stopped and for a moment there was an uneasy silence broken only by intermittent growls and a tail dragging across the ground as the blind dragon walked, only for another younger dragon to appear from the shadows on Harry's left and he attempted to stand but pain jolted up his leg and with a cry Harry fell back onto the ground.   

In desperation, he began crawling, head lifted and eyes searching for any way out of the pit, but he was nowhere near fast enough to escape the shuffling footfalls of the two dragons behind him.  Some of the walls were slick with water, making an ascent impossible, even if Harry's leg wasn't broken.  There was no way he could possibly get a foothold, much less climb up the cliff.  Looking up, he could see eyes peering down at him, both dark eyes from the goblins and glittering colored eyes as well for Harry realized in horror and too late at that, that a couple younger dragons were coming out of caves built into the rock and staring down at him, one landing down in front of him and Harry had to close his eyes momentarily as a gust of wind washed over him.   When he next opened them, he saw the dragon begin to open its mouth, felt the heat of its breath and the flickers of flame appearing in its maw.  Though it was tough to see within the darkness, Harry glanced to his right to see another dragon standing beside him....and then there was only fire...fire and pain...and Harry screamed, a scream that was drowned out by the roars of the dragons as the flames consumed him.

---

5th Year-September 1, 1995

The noise was deafening as students spilled into the Great Hall and took their seats at the four house tables, chatting about what they had done over the summer as Professor McGonagall made her way to fetch the first years who would be arriving momentarily.   There were two new faces at Hogwarts this year, a plump woman who looked like a toad dressed in pink and a man with pale skin and ashen blond hair pulled back in a ponytail who was dressed in a crisp navy-blue suit, his gaunt appearance a stark contrast to the woman who sat a couple seats down from him.  Aurors had come to the Ministry to take care of the rumored ‘curse' on the DADA position at Hogwarts a couple weeks before the school year started by destroying a cursed object in a hidden room, known to the house-elves as the ‘come and go' room. The headmaster had been unable to stop both the Aurors and the Unspeakables from tearing the room apart and deciding to examine it for themselves but there was of course no way to remove an entire hidden room from Hogwarts nor any way to interfere with the magic of the castle.  The cursed object, on the other hand had been an object of myth and legend, a diadem that once belonging to Rowena Ravenclaw as foretold by the ghost Helena Ravenclaw, her descendant who was the house ghost of the smart house at Hogwarts.

After the sorting had taken place and the tables filled with food and drink of all sorts for the Welcoming Feast held every year, the headmaster stood up and looked over the student body, his face falling momentarily as he didn't find the missing student he sought.   Perhaps it was time to turn to the second prophecy child, young Mr. Longbottom.   Though the Dark Lord had not yet come back, Dumbledore knew his former student wouldn't stop at nothing to return to power. Nevertheless, Dumbledore put on a brave and warm smile for his students, the hall falling silent as faces turned towards him.  "Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts for our returning students and for our new first years, welcome to Hogwarts.  As you can see we have a returning staff member this year who will once again be taking over Care of Magical Creatures, Professor Grubbly-Plank," he said, gesturing towards the elderly witch who sat to the immediate right of Headmaster Dumbledore.  She stood and nodded briefly to the student body before once more taking her seat. 

"We also have two new professors to the staff this year and I am pleased to announce the curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position has been lifted."

"Maybe we'll actually have a competent teacher for once," said Fred.

"Professor Lupin wasn't that bad," spoke up Dean. "Better than that nutter Professor Moody last year."

"Shush," said Hermione, glaring at the two boys.

"I'd like you all to welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Dolores Umbridge."  The toad-faced woman chuckled to herself, causing Snape to turn his gaze towards her.  "I'm sure you'll all join me in wishing the professor good luck.  Our second..."

"Hem hem," came a girlish voice and Dumbledore looked around to see a woman stand up from her chair and walk around the staff table until she was standing in front of the students, holding a pink purse against her torso, a strange creature trailing along beside her, a collar around the animal's neck.  It looked like a hybrid between a fox and some type of bird, the fox's fur being light orange with white platinum markings being a white belly, white feet, a white ring around the neck, white blaze on its forehead and white muzzle.  Light blue and white feathers trailed down the fox's upper neck from the back of the head, spreading down to its shoulders and partly down its back, the rump feathers branching out into tail feathers that went a quarter of the way down its tail and then circled around both sides to continue down the underside of the tail.  Black talons adorned his digits and inside his mouth were a pair of fangs with horns adorning the creature's head. 

"Thank you, Headmaster, for those wonderful words of wisdom," said Dolores as she stopped walking, thereby causing the strange hybrid to stop as well.  "And may I say how lovely it is to see all your smiling and bright, happy faces looking up at me.  I'm sure we'll all be the very best of friends."

"Not likely," muttered Fred and George at the Gryffindor table. The Great Hall was completely silent as students of all four houses and the staff watched the spectacle before them. The majority were staring in disbelief that this woman stood there and dared interrupt the headmaster and none were smiling but Dolores appeared to ignore that or be oblivious.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance.  Although each headmaster has brought something to this historic school," and here Dolores momentarily nodded at Dumbledore who inclined his head, "progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged."  There were a few disbelieving glances from the students at this information as Dolores continued.  "Let us preserve what must be preserved, perfect what can be perfected, and prune practices that ought to be...prohibited."  She chuckled at the end of her speech before Dumbledore spoke. 

"Yes, thank you Dolores," said Dumbledore, rather relieved that the Ministry worker had shut up.  "Ah yes, why you are up here...students you will all undoubtedly see the creature by Professor Umbridge.  This creature is not to be bothered," here he looked at the Weasley twins, "by any house," he continued, his gaze then sliding over to the Slytherin table.  "This is a class five creature and belongs to Professor Umbridge." 

"So, the creature's like a pet?" A student called from the Ravenclaw table.

"No, it is a slave," said Dolores, "as are any descendants it has," said Dolores. The staff for their part ignored the gasps from the muggleborns at this comment and Dolores returned to her seat, the creature following his mistress and once more resumed his place underneath the table, curling up to try to get more comfortable.  

"Now, another notice that I imagine everyone will be pleased about is Binns has been fired from his position and forced to move on," said Dumbledore.  This brought groans from the rest of the school that depended on History of Magic being naptime.  "I am here to announce our new professor, Chervil Crow.  Professor Crow suffers from a rare skin condition and thus classes for History of Magic will be held at night for all students this year.  Again, I ask all students to wish Professor Crow good luck in his new position and trust you will all help make him feel welcome.  The Ministry is also no longer requiring no more than the first three years of astronomy.  Now, tuck in and then it's off to bed."  There was polite clapping from some of the students as the gaunt man got to his feet and bowed to the school before sitting back down, the meal and chatter beginning once again with a few glances shot towards their new professors but also to the creature underneath the table.  

Chapter Two: Kindling

3rd Summer-August 17, 1993

Fire burned away flesh and licked at the skin as an inferno of heat and pain ensnared the young adolescent's senses.   There was no escape from the inferno of fire that consumed him, no escape from his execution.  Hagrid was right...goblins really are not to be messed with, was Harry's last thought. Above him, the goblins watched the execution take place and there seemed justice for the crimes committed by a young wizard, justice for a goblin only trying to do their job.  Yet, strangely, as he was burned, he did not die.  Rather the flames began licking at his skin though not in a harmful way, yet there was still pain of a different sort, of his skin stretching and Harry found his head falling to the cavern floor, his screams echoing through the pit and renting the air, screams of pain changing to a guttural roar that shook the walls and caused a chill of fear to sweep through the goblins watching the execution.   Before anyone could contemplate what had happened, there was a pained roar and a scream from one of the dragons, the fire swirling together in a tornado as the temperature began to rise around them, at first comfortable but then it gradually grew hotter.  

Suddenly, the fire tornado vanished in a swirl of fire and ash, hot embers raining down on the pit as the dragons frantically screeched and turned to either fly or hurry quickly from sight, vanishing back into the darkness.  As the goblins stared and the fire died down, it revealed a horrific sight...a demon around five feet high with fire swirling around him, licking at his flesh which was burnt orange, blue and white feathered wings spreading from his shoulders and two horns which resembled a dragon, black as pitch and curving backward on his head with fox ears and tail. Black talons were etched on his hands and feet, clothing having burned away from the fire but what was worse was the color of the fire licking at his flesh...it wasn't orange but purple.  Heat could be felt radiating from the creature and at his feet lay the broken body of a young dragon, its head being kicked with a sweep of the creature's foot across the pit like a football.  No longer was this creature human...no it appeared to be a demon and the goblins immediately used their magic to contain the creature, the dragons briefly poking their heads out of caves before withdrawing at seeing the sight. For even a dragon, powerful and strong as it was, would dare to mess with a demon.   A young demon it might be, not even half its adult height, but still...even dragons knew a predator when they saw one.

"Alert the Ministry to a class five creature," hissed the lead goblin.  "Secure it and put it in a holding cell," came another order once the goblins had subdued the demon, a messenger taking off to inform the ministry of magic.  Goblins were a greedy and warrior race, not unlike orcs or ogres, but even they knew better than to tangle with or upset a demon and they had just done so.   This creature, this demon disguised as a human, was a young demon, not a child but still potentially dangerous and it begged the question...had the Potters hidden their demon heritage or were they even demons in the first place? Demons were classified as dark creatures and with good reason...a class five creature could never be domesticated or tamed.  While dragons were known wizard killers who ate and would harm humans, there were specialized humans able to work with them known as dragon tamers.  Such was not the case for demons who were chaotic fiends of raw physicality and rage, said to come from the abyss or in religious terms, Hell itself.  It was said even elementals were demons, albeit lesser demons while others considered elements as the ethereal embodiments of nature's aspects. 

The bright fluorescent lighting of a hospital room hit him, and green eyes slowly filtered open, blinking hazily at the lights before he slowly turned his head to first one side and then the other, trying to get the kink out of his neck.  Where was he and how did he get here? The only things he could remember were Gringotts, the wind whipping past him as he hurtled through the tunnels into the darkness and the dragons setting him on fire.  He didn't really remember the pain nor what had happened after but as he looked down at himself, he could see that he had some burns on his body that were wrapped in bandages.  He attempted to speak but his throat was hoarse and all that came out was a croak.

The subtle creak of a chair alerted him to the presence of someone within the room with him and he again turned his gaze to see an auror sitting in a chair, the man's piercing gaze turning towards Harry as the man saw that Harry was awake. Yet, there was no kind smile on the auror's face as he looked at the young teen.  Granted, the aurors didn't make friends with Harry but they were mostly friendly to him.  "Where...where am I?"

The auror stared at him in disbelief before turning back to look at his companion standing by the door.  "You're in Saint Mungo's," came another voice and Harry saw a nurse come into the room, escorted by a tall and bald black man, this being Kingsley who had been released from the Minster's office at hearing the information that the Potter boy had been taken to the hospital after the Minster received a disturbing incident about the boy. 

"St. Mungo's?"

"It's the hospital in Britain for the UK wizarding population," said the woman who was dressed in healer robes.  "You were burned pretty badly so we had to patch you up when you arrived," said the nurse.   "I'm Healer Wright.  How are your Mr. Potter?"

Harry didn't even ask how the woman knew his name because he knew why...they all seemed to know his name due to the events of Halloween and the attack on the Potters in 1981 when he'd been a mere tot.  It still baffled Harry, even today that there were so many people who knew his name in the wizarding world that now it didn't even phase him anymore.  The woman appeared middle aged with a rather brusque attitude but maybe she had to be when dealing with magical patients and maladies. 

Healer Wright walked forward and slowly peeled back the bandages to check his burns, finding the skin still red but beginning to heal.  She glanced back at Kingsley and the other two aurors in the patient's room before turning back to Harry who stared in disbelief at his chest where there was a large burn on it, red and inflamed, a burn that had white blisters on it. Healer Wright then put some burn salve on the teen's burns and then bandaged them up again with fresh bandages and gauze, putting a pain relief potion on the gauze so he would have some relief from the injuries he had sustained.   "Now, I'm going to just check your vitals and take some blood work," said Healer Wright.  "You seem slightly anemic, so I'd like to check your iron levels and hemoglobin levels and appear malnourished as well.  Tell me Mr. Potter. Have you ever been to see a doctor for your eyesight and your malnutrition?"

"No," said Harry, thinking that he didn't even know young first years were meant to get shots.  "Madam Pomfrey never gave me any shots.  The...my relatives got me some Muggle shots before primary school, but nobody ever said anything to my knowledge about the fact that I'm a bit skinny and my eyesight...I guess I get my dad's eyesight."

"Mr. Potter, you are severely underweight," said Healer Wright.   "You play Quidditch yes?"

Harry brightened.  "Yeah, I'm the youngest seeker at Hogwarts in a century.  I'm good too."

"It's not something to be proud of," said Healer Wright as she then muttered a spell and a hologram appeared over Harry which began separating itself into three different layers...skin and nerves, muscle and organs, and the skeletal system respectively.  "I can see you're suffering from malnutrition as I explained before and your bones," she moved the layer of bones to the forefront, "appear to have multiple fractures and breaks through the years, some not healing correctly," said Healer Wright as she pointed out a broken arm. To Harry's horror, he discovered these images revealed every injury he'd ever had, some words overlaying each other so that the healer had to wave her wand to separate them.     "You suffered a broken tibia at five years old?"

"What's a tibia?"

"It's your shin bone Mr. Potter," said Healer Wright.  "A bite from a dog that scarred on your leg...I'm surprised you don't have a limp with how deep it shows on the scans," she said.   "I guess the dog that bit you didn't break the bone or wasn't a big dog."

"It was my Aunt Marge's bulldog Ripper," said Harry. "He chased me up a tree when I was five and my got my leg before I managed to get up the tree. My relatives didn't call him back until sometime past midnight and I couldn't come down because he was growling and pacing around the tree like he wanted to eat me."

"A concussion at four years old with a fracture hairline in your skull at four?  Your bones vanishing from your left arm in your second year?"

"Lockhart vanished my bones, but Madam Pomfrey grew them back with Skelegrow," said Harry, not commenting on how Aunt Petunia had hit him around the head with a frying pan when he'd burned the bacon at four years old.  Healer Wright pursed her lips in a thin line, asking a few more questions and detailing more of Harry's treatment.  

"You should have been taken to the school infirmary or even St. Mungo's straight away," said Healer Wright, annoyance coloring her voice.   She then waved her wand, the injuries appearing on a scroll of parchment that soon hit the floor and she shook her head at this.  "With your malnutrition and brittle bones Mr. Potter, you shouldn't have been allowed anywhere on a broom, much less be allowed to play Quidditch for the past two years.  Any fall could have permanently injured you and required a hospital visit to St. Mungo's. What idiot could have given an eleven-year-old a broom, much less bent the rules for one child when it hasn't been in the history of Hogwarts...it probably has something to do with your savior status," she said.

Waving her wand and muttering a spell, she vanished the images and handed the parchment to Kingsley who looked it over for himself. "May I have a copy of this Healer Wright? The Minister will want to see this for himself."

"Yes, of course," said Healer Wright before she procured some vials and tubes with which to take Harry's blood.  "Now Mr. Potter, I'm going to take some blood for your blood tests.  Please make a fist," she said as she pulled out a torrent and tied it around Harry's upper arm, Harry doing as asked. Kingsley pulled out his own wand and waved it at the parchment, muttering a spell.

"Duplicare," he muttered, and a white light emitted from his wand which hit the parchment he was holding. It glowed white for a couple of minutes before an exact replica appeared in his hand and he handed the original copy back to Healer Wright who set it aside. 

"Well, Mr. Potter.  It is highly advised you do not engage in Quidditch this year and I will be recommending as such to the minister and the headmaster," said Healer Wright when she had finished with Harry's examination.   "Nor even recreational flying or any type of stunt that can cause you injury," she said.   Harry's pale face-tinged pink in embarrassment.

She sounds like she'd get along with Snape, he thought sourly.   I'm not that bad and I don't go looking for trouble.  This he told himself, despite knowing deep down it wasn't the case.  Harry had gone to rescue Hermione instead of informing a prefect or professor in his first year and he had taken Ron's idea of flying the car to Hogwarts last year instead of writing to someone at the school. He had just wanted to get to school and not locked up at the Dursleys for the entire year.   As the aurors left him alone, along with Healer Wright once she had taken his blood, he was given a sleeping draught and soon slipped into unconsciousness once more.

"...believe he's not..."

"...shut...restrain..."

"...maybe mistake..."

"Blood tests don't lie Shacklebolt."

"I can't believe..."

Voices filtered slowly around him, in and out of consciousness as he slept, and it wasn't until he felt a spell hit him that his eyes snapped open to see wands pointed at him.   Before he could ask a question, Harry found himself in magical suppression cuffs with his hands cuffed behind his back.    He then found himself hauled up by two of the aurors who moved forward and taken to a private floo area in a room for the staff.  "Ministry of Magic," said Kingsley as he tossed a pinch of floo powder into the hearth and Harry was hauled through with the two aurors following him in a woosh of flame.   Harry stumbled out of the fireplace, coughing and stumbling. He would have fallen were it not for the two aurors holding him up and didn't even get a chance to see they were back in the atrium as he was immediately led towards the lifts with the others following him.  One of the aurors had hold of Harry's wand though the teen didn't know it.  Once they had crowded into the lift, Kingsley pressed a button and Harry saw Kingsley press the level four button, the lift's gate came down and they were off. 

"Level 4, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Goblin and Centaur liaison offices, the pest advisory board, the creature divisions and the Office of Misinformation," said the voice on the speaker. Kingsley lifted the lift grate as the doors opened and they walked down the hallway, Harry confused as to why they were here on this floor.

"Where are we?"

"The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," grunted the auror on his left.   "Give me an excuse to kill you creature and I'll gladly do it."

"Rowle," snapped Kingsley.  

"Please...can't someone tell me what's..."  But his words were cut off as the auror behind him hit him in the back of his knees, Harry falling to the floor with a pained cry.  

"Dawlish that's enough! We're to take it to be registered," he said, "not abuse it and risk it attacking us."

Harry, for his part, had no idea what was being spoken of. Why would he attack them? Yet he couldn't focus as Kingsley turned and hauled him to his feet by his shirt and marching him down the hall, passing a door that said Centaur Liaison Office on his right and Office of Misinformation a couple doors down on his left.  There was even a door that said House Elves and he knew Hermione would have a field day if she saw it.  Though he couldn't imagine Hermione ever being down on Level 4 but he found himself dragged forward before he could think much further on the House Elves department, being dragged past a door that said Werewolf Registry until they stopped at another door halfway down the hall.  "Where are we?"

"Registry," spoke the man Harry now knew as Dawlish.   Kingsley opened the door and the Aurors brought him inside. 

"Ah Kingsley, another creature to register? Which category is this?" questioned the man at the desk as Harry was pushed into a chair by Kingsley.    

"I'm not a creature! Please...why am I here? I didn't do anything!"

"That's what they all say," said the man at the desk.  "They all say they won't do whatever got them revealed as a creature again or that they'll be good or are innocent.  I don't know how you managed to hide yourself for...how old is it?"

"It would have been a third year," said Dawlish.  "It's been harbored by the Minster all this time."

"The Minister had no idea he was harboring a creature," said Kingsley, glaring at Dawlish.   "If he had, he would have followed protocol."

Protocol? Harry's eyes darted nervously to each figure that he could see, trying to find a friendly face but there were none.   "Please! I'm not a creature!  I'm just...human!"  But Harry found not a soul would look at him nor respond to his pleas.  "I won't...I just wanted to get my money for school supplies and didn't have my key!"

"His key?"

"Apparently the creature attacked a goblin and stole a cart to go down to its vault," said Kingsley.  "The goblins sentenced it to death and the dragons fled after one of their number was killed by him. The goblins sensed what he was and alerted the Minister who sent Dawlish and Rowle to the bank where it was taken to St. Mungo's for treatment.   Blood tests confirmed it's a creature but to answer the earlier question...it seems to be of the beast division."

"I see.  Where is it's wand?  It probably still has the wand on it."

"I don't have it! I dropped..."

"The goblins confiscated it," said Kingsley, handing it over to the man who remained seated.  

"Hmmm.  Holly," said the man.  "Kingsley, send a patronus to Ollivander and have him come here to determine the core and length of this wand as well as answer for giving a creature a wand when he knows creatures aren't allowed access to wands."

"Alright.  Expecto Patronum," said Kingsley and a silvery lynx appeared.  "Ollivander, you're needed at the Ministry's Beast Division for a creature possessing a wand," said Kingsley.  "Level 4 of the Ministry, take the floo and be here at once," he said before the lynx dashed off to deliver the message.  

The man opposite Harry surveyed him as they waited for the lynx to deliver the message and for Ollivander to arrive to answer for his crime.  If he truly didn't know then he would be issued a fine and if he did, it could mean jail time in Azkaban.   He then got to his feet and walked around to Harry.  "I'm going to ask some questions and you're going to answer them," he said. 

Harry nodded and the questioning began.   "What is your name?"

"What?"

"Your name. Do not make me repeat myself," said the man.

"Harry Potter."

"Age and birth?"

"Thirteen.  I was born July 31st 1980," said Harry, not understanding why he was being asked these questions.

"Species?"

"I...what?"

"Species. What is your species? What type of creature are you?"

"I..." Harry looked between the man and Kingsley, hoping for some sort of help, hoping for someone to say this was a mistake.  "I'm human! My parents were James and Lily Potter!"

The man ignored him and looked at the three aurors.  ""Demon," said Dawlish.  "Not sure what kind though but the flames didn't seem to affect it aside from some burning."

The man looked sharply at Dawlish before going to the next question.  "A demon? A class five creature?! Among students of Hogwarts?! What was Dum...markings?"

"I have a scar on my forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt," said Harry as he moved his fringe up to show the man. Unfortunately, what Harry didn't realize was that his scar was no longer there, burned off due to the dragon fire unknowingly activating his dormant inheritance. The man peered at the unblemished, if slightly reddened skin. 

"There's no scar there," said the man.  "So now you're pretending to be Britain's savior as well?"

"I assure you I am Harry Potter!"

"Note the creature is pretending to be the wizarding savior," said the man to the aurors who nodded.  Meanwhile, Rowle was surprised at this information.  Had the Dark Lord made a mistake in picking his enemy?  If this boy wasn't Potter, then who exactly was he and what had happened to the Potter child? Did he really exist at all? Had the rat fed the Dark Lord the wrong information that led to his downfall?  "Is that it?"  The man in charge of registration for creatures, be they being, beast or spirit, interrupted Rowle's thoughts and he shoved them into the inner recesses of his mind.  It would not be good for anyone to realize he supported the Dark Lord in the past.

"I have...a scar on my right arm from a basilisk...and a scar on my left leg from a dog bite when I was five," said Harry in a shaky voice, confused as to why his scar had disappeared. 

"A basilisk?" questioned Dawlish in surprise. "Are you telling me there's a basilisk at Hogwarts?"

"Yeah. Well, it's dead but I killed it in last year. Stabbed it through the skull with Gryffindor's sword."

"And does the Headmaster know of this?"

"Yes," said Harry.  "He learned about it when I went to save Ginny with her brother Ron and that fraud of a man, Lockhart."

"A basilisk...are you saying this is what was petrifying students at the school last year creature?"

Before Harry could say anything, the man making note of the boy's markings on a clipboard, there was a woosh of the fireplace and Ollivander stepped through.   "You wished to see me Lucian Cobweb?"

"Mr. Ollivander, we have some disturbing information here.  It seems this creature," he pointed at Harry, "has a Holly wand and we want to know the core as well as question why you gave a wand to a creature when you know they aren't allowed access to magic."

Ollivander's gaze flickered over to the other aurors and then to Harry before speaking.  "May I see the wand in question?"

Kingsley passed the wand over and Ollivander examined it, remaining silent for a few moments.  "Yes...I remember.  Holly with a phoenix feather core, eleven inches, nice and supple.  A curious wand, give the phoenix who gave the tail feather gave just one other, a feather to a young man who would become the Dark Lord.  Holly being good for Dueling, Dueling Spells, Defense Against the Dark Arts and good for those skilled in Occlumency.  Combined with its phoenix feather core which is good for Elemental Magic involving Fire Spells, Air Spells and Metal Spells as well as being good for Evil Repelling Spells and DADA. Brother or sister wands will never fight against each other," he said.  "This wand was made for Harry Potter and was curious that he should be destined for such a wand when its brother gave him the scar on his forehead.  But I am unsure about what you mean by a creature. As far as I am aware, Peverell's and early Potter generation have creature blood, but it became diluted down the line so that they were all human by the time Mr. and Mrs. Potter were born," he said.  "Harry Potter exhibited no signs of being a creature when he came to my shop. Had I known, I wouldn't have given him a wand and would have reported it."

"My parents?"

"No, James' parents," said Ollivander. 

"Noted," said the man known now as Lucien.  "Well then Mr. Ollivander, if you'll just make yourself comfortable, one of the aurors will question you under Veritaserum and then your punishment will commence."

Ollivander nodded and took a seat, leaving Kingsley to go fetch some truth serum and contact a lawyer to get information on the creature's test results. Twenty minutes passed before the man was back and Ollivander was sent on his way after paying a fifty galleon fine for providing a wand to a creature and an oath to not speak of this to anyone barring Minister Fudge and those in the room except for necessary testimony should it be needed in court. There was no need to swear on the man's magic or life as all wandmakers kept their word, bound by magic of their own understanding.  The barrister stood by patiently before being asked to step forward.

"I understand I am here to do a test on this creature and find out what it is?"

"That's correct," said Lucien.  "Though the goblins have revealed it to be a demon," he said and explained what had happened.

"If fire didn't affect it...it might be a fire demon," said the barrister, looking through his silver-wired glasses at Harry.

"I'm not a demon!"

The man nodded to Lucien and turned pulled out two sheets of parchment as well as two vials of blood, letting three drops from each vial drop onto the first parchment and a family tree began to form, showing Mr. and Mrs. Potter's sides of the family.  Generations of both lines spread out on both sides, though the Potter side ended up branching out more into the Peverell side while the Evans family only went back four generations, showing the combined Evans-Dursley line on the Evans side as well as the combined Potter-Peverell line on the Potter side as well as other families the Potters were related to and their relations.  None spoke a word as the blood spread across the parchment like ink, detailing other families that the Potters were related to and relations, detailing relatives living and dead.   "It seems the Potters having living family branches on the continent and the old world as well as being related to the extinct Fleamont family, the Blacks, the Crabbes, the Flints and the Bulstrodes as well as a family called Riddle and the Peverell's of course," said the man, "as well as being related to the House of Gaunt."

"Gaunt?" questioned Kingsley.

"An inbred and endangered family, the last British descendants of Salazar Slytherin," spoke the barrister.  "It's a distant connection but they're both related through the Peverell line.  House Gaunt took inbreeding and blood purity too far, producing a near squib who had a son in 1926 before her death, a child named Tom Riddle Jr.  And the late Mrs. Potter appears to have been related to the Vogel family, a German pureblood family who fought on the side of Gellert Grindelwald in the war," spoke the barrister which surprised everyone there...everyone except Harry who didn't know who Gellert Grindelwald was.  However, he felt like he was going to be sick when he heard that he was related to Tom Riddle, the man who had killed his parents.  

"Yes, it seems this Tom Riddle Jr. is better known as Lord Voldemort...a half-blood of a near squib and a muggle," spoke the barrister as he examined the parchment. 

"The Dark Lord was killed!"

"No, he wasn't," said the barrister.  "Not according to this family tree that lists him as still alive," he said.    And he murmured a spell, showing the tree in holographic form before everyone as well as muttering  a spell and writing the name ‘Tom Marvolo Riddle' in fiery letters as the Dark Lord's spirit had done last year in the Chamber of Secrets before rearranging them to spell out ‘I Am Lord Voldemort.'  "Really, wizards have not an ounce of logic and don't use their brains at all," said the barrister with a shake of his head.  "But you'll notice this right here," he said, pointing his wand towards the bottom of the map, showing a line descending from James and Lily Potter nee Evans.  "There was a child born named Harry James Potter...however according to this...it seems he perished at a young age."

As the group of adults looked at each other in shock and then peered at the family tree, this being another blow to them, they saw the name Harry J. Potter July 31, 1980-December 25, 1980.  "Then...who is this creature?" Lucien questioned, "and how has he been impersonating the dead son of Mr. and Mrs. Potter?"

"Can the family tree be lying?" questioned Kingsley.

"No," said the barrister.  "When wizards are born, their blood is taken at birth and put into a vial as well as blood taken from the parents. With the case of muggleborns, their blood is taken by the witch or wizard who visits them but the majority of Mugglebeorns never seek to learn about their wizarding ancestry so any familia connections are never found unless the Muggleborn comes to a barrister as an adult," said the barrister.   "But with the majority of Muggleborns leaving back to the mundane world upon graduation due to the lack of opportunities for them in Britain at least or leaving to other more welcoming wizarding communities abroad, they never think to learn about their heritage, believing themselves to have been blessed by the Goddess Hekate when they're usually descended from a witch or wizard that married a Muggle some time ago or from a squib that was tossed out of their family into the Muggle world."

This was news to everyone, more so to Rowle who couldn't believe he had followed a half-blood all these years.   In that moment, the man decided to not follow the Dark Lord if he returned at all.  "Now let us examine our young creature, shall we?"

Harry sat there in shock, hearing that he wasn't a Potter and that the real Harry Potter had ended up dying at a young age.  If he wasn't a Potter then who was he? Were his parents still alive?   Everything he thought he knew about himself was shattering around him.    "I'm not a creature! I'm not!" In his shock, he didn't hear the spell cutting into his hand nor feel his hand being grabbed and the blood dropped onto the second parchment, spreading into words. 

Elvoriuth

Class: Class 5 Creature

Creature Type: Tribrid (Fire Demon x Ice Phoenix x Kitsune)

Blood Status: Creature Blood

Parents: Eos (mother), Serkaxuth (father)

Creature Status: Class 5 Creature; Rare Tribrid

Class of parents: Fire Demon Class 5, Ice Phoenix Class 4, Kitsune Class 4

Creature Heritage: Ice Phoenix (100%-mother)

Demon-Fire (100%)

Kitsune Ancestry (Darkness/Fire tribes-7 generations skipped from father's side)

Age: 12 Years (immortal)-Born November 25, 1980

Features: Wings, horns, tail, sharp claws, fangs

Demon form (locked)

Kitsune forms (wolf-sized fox, regular fox-locked)

"I thought demons were stuff of myth and legends," exclaimed Dawlish.

"They seem to be a thing among the Mudbloods," said Rowle, unable to help himself.  "You know they don't believe in magic yet they believe in some creatures as being myth like dragons, giants and unicorns." 

"Muggles are a strange breed," spoke Dawlish. 

Meanwhile, Lucien was correcting the information, still surprised they were facing a rare tribrid and that the Potter child had perished so early in life.  Then who was it that had stopped the Dark Lord? This creature...yes...it was a danger even then. It wasn't ‘love' like Albus Dumbledore claimed but the creature's demon blood then.  And the Dark Lord was alive?   That could be a problem.

"Did the Potters ever have a will or adopt this child?" questioned Lucien.  

"The Potters never made a will," spoke the barrister.  "And I checked my files when I got a message from Kingsley.  They never came to me with a child they wished to adopt nor to any other contacts I have in the law firm.  No child was ever adopted by the Potters nor a will ever made.  As to how this child came into the care of Mr. and Mrs. Potter, I can only imagine there were glamors of some sort on the child to hide its true appearance or perhaps its true appearance was blocked like its kitsune and demon forms are locked.  This is all I can really tell you."

"Thank you, Johnathan," spoke Lucien.  "Please don't inform Dumbledore of this.  I wonder if the old man knew about this child not being the Potters' child or if he was unaware." Johnathan nodded before leaving through the floo once more. 

---

5th Year-September 1, 1995

As the Great Hall emptied at the close of the evening, the students all full and ready for bed or to have a couple hours to catch up before turning in for the evening, the staff remained at the head table finishing their own meals or taking the time to speak to each other over their plans for the upcoming school year.   As the last of the staff finished their meals, Dumbledore rose from his chair and spoke.   "If we are all finished, I'd like to have a staff meeting with the professors.   Dolores...Chervil...if you would please follow me to the staff room.  Dolores...if you like I can have a house elf take your belongings to your quarters and have the creature fed."

Dolores looked down at the creature at her feet before nodding and got to her feet, the tribrid's eyes tracking Dolores's movement before unfolding its body and crawling out to shake its pelt as its golden-yellow eyes staring unblinkingly at the other humans, stepping up to the woman's side as other staff got to their feet.   "I suppose it deserves a reward and a meal for being obedient," said Dolores.  "Follow the house elf and remain in my quarters," spoke Dolores, the tribrid bowing his head.  "You may eat what the house elf brings you.  Adrian prefers raw meat and blood," said Dolores to the house elf that popped in as it was summoned by Dumbledore.  

"Thank you, mistress," spoke the creature, causing gasps from some of the professors. 

"It talks?" questioned Pomona.

"'Course it does," said Hagrid. "Don' know much about ‘em m'self but both kitsune an' demons talk."  Elvoriuth turned his gaze towards the hybrid and then turned, walking after the house elf that led the tribrid through the halls as the staff made their way towards the staff room on the ground floor while Elvoriuth was led to the Grand Staircase and up to Professor Umbridge's office, heading up three flights of stairs. Each shift of the tribrid's claws echoed in the area around him yet he found some students were lingering upon the stairs, students of all ages who pressed against walls. The house elf in question seemed skittish and fearful of the tribrid following it whereas the students were curious, the fox bird moving easily up the moving stairs and often overtaking the house elf, forcing the tiny creature to use its own form of apparition to keep up with the slave. 

Yet it wasn't long until they managed to arrive at the woman's office, a plain office it was and located at the end of the Serpentine Corridor, a corridor that also housed the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.  Left alone in the room with his mistress's luggage, Elvoriuth unfurled his wings and stretched them out before looking around the office. Given the cold in the room, Elvoriuth closed his eyes before opening them, the temperature slowly but steadily beginning to rise, releasing his hold on his thermal manipulation when it grew warm enough.   Padding towards empty hearth, he turned his head as a house elf popped in with a bowl of water and a bowl of meat chunks with some bread, a low warning growl in his throat.  The tiny creature squeaked in fear and disappeared with a pop, leaving Elvoriuth alone.  Turning his head back to the empty hearth for a moment, he turned and padded across the room towards the bowls and lowered his head, his salmon-colored tongue darting out to lap at the water, only to exhale and then exhale frost onto the water to cool it down, ice crystals appearing on the edges of the bowl.  The water was never cold enough without him making it cold.    

Once his thirst had been sated, he turned to the meat left for him and sniffed it, his eyes briefly scanning the room yet there was nobody within except himself.  As his jaws closed on one of the meat chunks, it didn't take long to tear it to manageable bite-sized morsels and he was soon finishing off his meal, hunger and experience driving him to consume his food before it was taken away.  He might not be at the Ministry anymore, but he remembered and he had magical tattoo to prove it, located on the inside of his left ear as well as the brand belonging to his mistress visible on his shoulder despite his feathers and fur.  One wouldn't know it by looking at the creature, but he had once been a student here, though had forgotten what it was like to be human in the years since his true heritage had been revealed and his world had come crashing down, the tribrid once known as Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived.  Not sure how long it would be before his mistress returned from the staff meeting, Elvoriuth concentrated, and his body began to lose form, instead fading to become wisps of shadow before he darted into a dark corner of the office and appeared outside the office where he then set off down the corner, his paws making no sound in his shadow form as he moved.  His hunger sated for the time being, though he wished there had been some blood to drink, Elvoriuth decided to see if Hogwarts had changed at all and see what it was human prey did when in a school without any supervision.  As he understood his mistress's appointment, they were sent here or rather his mistress was to keep an eye on the Headmaster and the students. He would suffer if he got back and his mistress was already in her office but the tribrid was restless and he couldn't escape his mistress anyway...the magic of enslavement would not allow him release nor any offspring he had. It was only that law, that bound his descendants to his mistress and her family that would keep him from being castrated when he found a female to mate with and possibly a mate found suitable by either his mistress or the Ministry.

Knowing he couldn't be tracked by the portraits in his shadow form, left him free to explore the castle at his leisure and even if he moved across the floor into the center, he would be alright unless light shone on him.   Immediately, once exposed to the darkness of the castle, his eyes adjusted and his night vision kicked in with the only downfall being he could be blinded by light and his eyes were somewhat sensitive in the day, allowing his paws to take him where they willed, however he stopped when he heard voices and lowered himself into a crouch, slinking forward until his eyes picked up two teens talking nearby.  Unintentionally he'd somehow found himself on the seventh floor and thankfully the area was dark but there were students out of their common room.  "I can't believe Harry didn't show up again this year," said a girl with bushy brown hair.  "Even the Headmaster has no idea where he is.  He's supposed to know!"

"The Headmaster's not infallible Hermione," said the boy beside her.  "You haven't met the Dursleys.  I met them once when dad took me, Fred and George with him to get Harry during fourth summer before the Quidditch World Cup.  It wouldn't surprise me if the Dursleys did something to Harry."

Hermione frowned at her friend.  In truth, Hermione and Ron weren't close friends anymore without Harry there to mediate between them.  It was with a sad and shocking realization that Hermione realized that she was only tolerated in Gryffindor because of being friends with Harry and Ron had gradually gravitated towards Dean and Seamus while Hermione found herself alone again as she had been in first year before the troll incident yet even afterwards, Hermione didn't have any friends among her peers in Gryffindor nor among the other houses. Nobody from Slytherin would be friends with a Muggleborn and she didn't really have much of a chance in class to make friends with members of Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw.  In truth, Hermione felt alone and wasn't sure whether she could continue with attending Hogwarts but what other options did she have? 

Beauxbatons was far away in France and Durmstrang didn't take Muggleborns. Where Ron had gravitated towards his dorm mates, Hermione became withdrawn and spent most of her time in her dormitory or the library, nestled in books and homework.  She had always been a bookworm and withdrawn even when a child among her peers in primary school, too smart for her own good and bullied because of it.  When she had found out magic existed, that she was special, she had wanted to prove herself to not only her parents who didn't really understand the world she had been destined for and believed that at Hogwarts was a chance to make friends. Yet she found the other students lacked any common sense and logic, found she wasn't as behind as she had feared and that others shunned her for her book smarts and intellect at Hogwarts as they had done all her life.  Now with the Ministry possibly interfering in Hogwarts, even if Ron and other students didn't realize it, she wasn't sure if she wanted to continue attending this school of magic. In fact, her parents had wanted to remove her from school at the end of second year due to her being attacked by a monster and hearing about her being attacked by a troll didn't set well with them when they had heard of it.  But Hermione had protested, saying she had friends at Hogwarts and she couldn't possibly leave them.  Was that the wrong choice?

"Earth to Hermione," said Ron. "Honestly, no wonder you don't have any friends," missing the look of hurt on Hermione's face as she heard that.  "I was saying," he emphasized with no small hint of annoyance on his face, "that I don't know what happened to Harry or why he didn't return to Hogwarts.  Maybe he's getting training from some friends of Dumbledore's.  You know Black's after him, he could have been sent somewhere secret and not allowed to contact us for his own safety so Black can't track him down and turn him over to the Dark Lord."

"But Ron, the Headmaster even asked us if we had seen Harry at all on the train after the Welcoming Feast in third year. Why would he pretend to not know where Harry was in that case and ask us if we had seen him?"

"I don't know Hermione...but I miss Harry being here.  I just hope he's alright," said Ron.  "And it isn't the Headmaster's job to tell us something, even if we are Harry's best friends."

Hermione stared at Ron in disbelief, finding it hard to believe he had come to such a conclusion on his own since Ron was usually about slacking off on his homework and playing chess instead of studying like he should be...maybe if he studied more, he would get better grades. Neither noticed the tribrid watching them from the shadows.   Elvoriuth didn't know these children, but Harry Potter had. However, he had never been Harry Potter as he had learned in his third summer.  Not only that, but he had forgotten what it was like to be human in the two years that had passed since being away from Hogwarts, those first two years at school being hazy memories at best, even if they were contained within his starball he currently wore around his neck.  They thought that Black had been after him...after Harry he had to remind himself.  Elvoriuth found his ears flattening before he turned and disappeared back into the castle, heading back for the stairs leading away from the Gryffindor Corridor, his ears twitching as he heard the bushy haired girl giving the password and the creak of the portrait opening to allow admittance to two students of the house.  

"Crucio," hissed Umbridge as Elvoriuth walked through the door of the woman's office a few hours later.   The spell hit the tribrid dead on, causing him to collapse on the ground as white-hot knives pierced his skin, causing the creature to scream in agony, his legs kicking as his body was subjected to the torture of humans.   Even though he was part demon, he could still be affected by the torture curse.  "I told you to remain in here," hissed Umbridge as she stared down at her slave.  Elvoriuth could say nothing while being punished by his mistress, not until she released the spell and he lay there panting, his head lowering as he dropped down into a submissive pose with his tail going between his legs.  It was only when the woman had put her wand away that Elvoriuth dared to speak, his voice labored as aftereffects went through him. 

"Sorry mistress," panted Elvoriuth.  He knew it would do no good to inform his mistress why he had left their room, knowing she would be upset either way.  He then lifted his head to see she had already unpacked everything, and he sat up, watching as she made her way towards the hearth.  Seeing the fire was down, Elvoriuth got to his paws and made his way to the hearth where he curled up on the logs and then burst into purple flames, warming the room, and catching the logs on fire, sighing in contentment as the fire swirled around him.  Out of his three elements, fire was his favorite, probably because it warmed him and being a fire demon though his kitsune ancestry helped as well, the part of the kitsune that came from the fire tribes.

"Have you learned anything mistress?"

"The new History of Magic professor is a vampire," spoke Umbridge.  "Hopefully he is more competent than the previous professor who was a ghost and contributed to the poor scores in History of Magic for a few decades.  That is why the students will be having History of Magic classes at night now and not only that, Dumbledore had the gall to hire a werewolf in third year! A werewolf...and harbor it as a student as well!"

Elvoriuth lifted his head, eyes turning towards his mistress as she told him this.  "Are werewolves not dangerous mistress?"

"They are required to register on the werewolf registry underneath the Beast division," said Umbridge dismissively.   "This wolf that was hired was apparently a student here at Hogwarts like yourself once, only it attended all seven years and nearly killed a student during its time here.  A class five creature being allowed among students without Ministry knowledge, let alone nearly killing a student.  They cannot be trusted, the vile beasts they are.  Even when they're human, they cannot be trusted."

Elvoriuth flicked his tail in response, not having learned about werewolves in his two years of education.   "How do you know this mistress?"

"Severus was kind enough to inform me of Dumbledore's stupidity in third year as well as the fact that the wolf nearly killed him in their fifth year and that Potter saved his life," she said. "Allowing Acromantulas so close to students and that half-breed oaf Hagrid to harbor them willingly when they're man eaters...if it were in my power, that man would be arrested and removed from his position.  Cornelius will be shocked about what is happening in this school and Dumbledore's poor hiring procedures as well as letting dangerous creatures attend school with normal students. Perhaps it is necessary to have every student submit to an inheritance test to determine if there are other hidden creatures attending the school. I shall have to suggest it to Cornelius during my report."

He wasn't sure what to think of the fact that Snape had been the one to be nearly killed by a werewolf but as to the werewolf itself, Elvoriuth found his hackles raise at the mention of the wolf. He'd learned through experience that though wolves were afraid of demons, they were dangerous against kitsune, being bigger than kitsune unless the kitsune was able to take on its wolf-fox form.Elvoriuth gave no answer as he remained within the hearth, the fire curling around him comfortingly and licking at his fur. Fire was warmth and comforting yet he also knew it could be dangerous.  He also knew he could be punished by being denied the chance to have a fire at all and when that happened, he had to rely on his own thermal manipulation to keep him warm or cool though he didn't have thermal resistance nor cold resistance.   Thus, he could end up freezing despite his feathers and fur providing thermal insulation.   Being hosed down with water could also chill him, especially if it were ice cold.   "What will I do mistress during your classes?"

"You will sit in on classes with me and patrol the room, alerting me to any mischievousness.  I plan on using you tomorrow in my first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson with all seven years. Perhaps if you do well this week, I will allow you some blood of one of the Mudblood slaves and access to the forest to hunt." Elvoriuth bowed his head, his mistress tutting to herself as she sank within a chair and Elvoriuth rested his head back down in the fire as it licked around him and cast a warmth about the otherwise cold office. 

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