Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Chapter 35
Hermione and Ron sat uneasily in a back corner of the library, surrounded by potions books and manuals. They had slowly gathered the materials over the past few days and had begun the process of digging through the information in an effort to find anything at all about potions which could permanently change someone’s looks. They had only managed to make it through a few books each, but now found themselves with an entire extra period in which to research as potions class had been cancelled yet again.

“Do you think he’s ok?” Ron whispered as he picked up a small manual and flipped through it lazily. Most of the smaller manuals they had found on potions which changed one’s appearance had been geared towards women looking to enhance their looks, however these potions were rarely long acting and had some rather nasty side effects including dying the user’s skin varying colors.

“He may just be in their rooms,” Hermione whispered back as she scribbled down some notes before grabbing a second book to cross reference a piece of newly found information. “Or maybe he got sick from someone.”

“You think?” Ron said, looking up worriedly.

“You never know,” Hermione said, setting the second book down with a sigh and scribbling out several paragraphs of notes. It was a crapshoot that any of the books in the library had any information on what potion Harry had been on, or was still on, which had changed his appearance so drastically. “Have you managed to talk to Professor Lupin?”

Ron shook his head and put down the manual in his pile of useless information. “I haven’t even seen him here since the day all of the Slytherin’s were acting weird and Elias went missing.”

Hermione worried her lip as she set down her book once more. No one had seen Elias in days and the Slytherins were refusing to say what happened. No announcement had been made in the Great Hall, so she could only assume he was alive at the very least. But she had also overheard an upper year Slytherin whispering about how he ‘couldn’t believe he was dead.’ Even Snape had seemed more on edge over the past few days.

It made sense that Professor Lupin wasn’t there anymore if Elias was gone. He was only there to tutor the boy anyways. It was just unfortunate that they hadn’t figured out who Elias really was sooner.

“Do you think he’s alive?” Hermione sniffled. “Even if Elias isn’t Harry, do you think Harry’s alive?”

Ron swallowed and looked down at his stack of books. This was not what he wanted to be doing during his fifth year. He wanted to be wandering the corridors with his best friend, laughing about some ridiculous fortune they had made up for Divination. He wanted to be flying around the pitch with Harry, feeling the wind in his hair and knowing that there was no way he would ever be able to catch the other boy on the Cleansweep he had borrowed from the school. He wanted to be commiserating with his friend about how awful Umbridge was.

He didn’t want to spend hours of his life pouring over tomes trying to find a possible potion which could explain why Harry looked different in every single respect. This wasn’t what teenagers did in their spare time.

“I don’t know, Hermione,” Ron snapped. “I don’t want to think about it either.”

“What other reason could there be for even Hedwig to not be able to find him?” Hermione pondered, wiping her eyes quickly so as not to let the tears fall onto the fragile parchment of the book in her hands.. “The only thing I found when I was trying to figure that out was that post-owls will return undeliverable mail if the recipient’s magical signature is different.”

Ron stopped for a moment before frowning. Were they going about this wrong? Was it possible it was more complicated than just appearance? If it weren’t for the fact it was Harry, he would have wondered why someone would think to hide their magical signature. As it was, however, Harry hiding even his magical signature was allowing him to stay farther away from You-Know-Who even though they now shared blood.

“‘Mione,” Ron said quietly. “Is there a way to cross reference books on hiding someone’s magical signature and long term appearance potions?”

“Morning, Louise,” Remus said with a small smile as he entered Ward 34. “How’re you doing?”

The ward matron frowned at the thin man as he strode towards the curtained off corner of the room. He wasn’t family of the poor lad, but he was helpful so they couldn’t rightly kick him out, especially since the lad’s father had to work. “If you put up another silencing charm on those curtains, I’ll have you removed permanently.”

“Understood,” Remus said sheepishly, though his smile widened. He and Snape had been discussing plans for Elias’s future the last time he had come to visit Elias’s bedside and the discussion got rather… heated. They had put a silencing charm on the curtains as had become their standard when discussing the boy, but were unaware of the number of monitoring spells the bed contained. Apparently their ‘discussion’ was loud enough to cause Elias some distress and next thing they knew the curtains were thrown open, the healers in the ward were swarming around the boy, and a rather harried guard found himself trying to escort a known werewolf and a former Death Eater away from the ward.

They were eventually allowed to come back though they were under no illusions that such behavior would be allowed again.

“Oh, Mr. Lupin,” one of the other healers called from across the ward as she saw him approach the curtained off corner. “One moment please!”

Remus paused, hand on the curtain, uncertain as to what the healer would want to speak with him about. He was certainly not the decision maker in Elias’s care, so there was really no reason for the healers to speak with him other than to give him updates on the boy’s status. Even then, they greatly preferred to give updates when Severus was around so they wouldn’t have to repeat themselves.

It wasn’t like there was much to update on anyways. Elias had had a rough couple of days when he first came to St. Mungo’s. A multitude of tests involving a variety of magical disciplines were completed over the course of the first twenty-four hours, some of which were so borderline dark Remus was shocked they were allowed. Then Elias had some sort of reaction to one of the runic wards placed on him and had several seizures throughout the day.

The healers were initially extremely concerned, however a quick consult to the healers in charge of long-term spell damage showed this was likely a result of the dark magic embedded in the boy’s system from the Cruciatus. That was their working theory, however Severus was concerned it was possibly something more sinister. There wasn’t a good way to covertly ask the healer if it was actually caused by a connection to You-Know-Who without revealing who Elias actually was.

After the tests were complete and the runic ward removed, there was little change in his status. The decision had been made to keep him in a healing sleep for a bit longer to allow his body and core to recuperate and rest more, but outside of that little had been done. The spell which had been breathing for him had been removed a few days ago and he was doing well maintaining his own airway, though the healers did note he snored slightly when lying on his back.

“Sorry,” the healer apologized as she quickly washed her hands and approached Remus. “This is going to be a strange question, but you are his tutor, correct?”

“Yes,” Remus said, raising an eyebrow and looking at her curiously. “I just started working with him this year, however, so I don’t think I could answer any questions about...”

“Oh, no, no!” the healer interrupted with a laugh. “No questions about his mental capabilities. Had he ordered any books from America? We received a package for him the other day and it just contained books.”

Remus blinked in confusion before nodding. With everything going on, he had honestly forgotten about the request to Ilvermorny that Elias had sent nearly a month ago. It wasn’t surprising that it had taken as long as it had to receive the books, it was just a pity they arrived when they did. “He requested them about a month ago.”

“Oh, good,” the healer said, turning to a locked cabinet and opening it with a flick of her wand before pulling out a rather sizable box. “There’s only three books in here, but I still need you to sign for it. Just policy, you know.”

Remus nodded, accepting the box and signing the accompanying parchment. Three books? That was more than Hogwarts and Durmstrang had on the topic combined. It was a pity Elias wasn’t awake to revel in this knowledge.

The Durmstrang book had been interesting, however it left a lot of questions in Remus’s mind. He had allowed Elias to struggle through it first, however he found himself wondering about its contents and couldn’t help but borrow it from the boy once he was admitted to the hospital. Elias’s passion for the project was catching, even when he himself was unable to work on it. With Elias unable to work on it, Remus found himself subconsciously thinking about the questions Elias was trying to answer more frequently than he cared to admit.

He needed answers and if Elias wasn’t going to be able to work on the project, he felt drawn to work on it himself.

The muggle world was a bit of a mystery to him despite having lived in it briefly several times throughout his life. He had never tried to live as a muggle, however. There was no point. Why would he feel the need to use some of their devices when magic could do the same thing but faster? It seemed this was rapidly changing, however, and muggle studies was simply not keeping up despite the interaction between magic and electricity showing no signs of abating.

If the books from Ilvermorny were able to shed any light on this interaction, it could possibly lead to the breakthrough they needed to begin to understand what was going on.

Entering the curtains with the box, Remus quickly sat on the chair closest to the sleeping boy’s head and placed the box on the bedside table.

“Good morning, Elias. Your books from Ilvermorny finally arrived,” Remus said softly to the sleeping boy, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to respond even if he wanted to. “Let’s see what they sent you.”

Pulling the first book out of the box, Remus was rather dismayed to find it was old. Extremely old and rather weathered, its pages yellowed and fragile, its spine cracking ominously when it opened. Remus’s heart sank as he read the title page and found the book to have come out the same year as Elias’s much read “Muggle Magic.” In fact, the title was very nearly the same, however the term muggle had been replaced with ‘No-Maj.’ Flipping through the book, he found it to be nearly the exact same as the book Elias had obsessed over for nearly two weeks only Americanized.

“Sorry, Elias,” Remus muttered sadly, setting the first book to the side in frustration. “This doesn’t look overly promising. The first book in the box was just an American copy of your ‘Muggle Magic’ book.”

Pulling the next book out of the box, Remus immediately let out a sigh of relief. This looked more promising. The cover of the book looked much more up to date, however the binding material looked slightly different from any of the magically produced books made in Europe. It was a minor detail, he knew, but he couldn’t help but notice the binding felt odd.

But the book was relatively up to date, and that was what mattered in a research project of this magnitude.

“This one looks promising,” Remus muttered, more to himself than to Elias.

Opening it, he found it to be about the growth of the American muggle city and the industrial revolution. Flipping through it, he was enthralled with the few pictures he found. Muggle machinery taking up entire floors of buildings, poles covered in wires which stretched to every building and seemingly every corner of the Earth, even a town in a desert covered in bright lights of every color. It may not have any explanation for the interaction between electricity and magic, but it seemed to be an interesting read no matter what.

“I think you’ll like that one,” Remus said, gently placing the book on top of the first book and looking sadly at Elias who had pulled his knees closer to his chest and wrapped one hand over his head as though he were trying to protect it.

While there hadn’t been any evidence of physical abuse at the Dursley’s, both Remus and Snape had come to the agreement that there was a very high possibility that there had been some sort of harassment the boy had had to deal with while growing up. Even the healers had been concerned when they saw the way he would try to protect himself even while in a healing sleep. The spell would keep him asleep after all, but he would be able to turn himself a bit should he be uncomfortable. The fact he instinctively chose to ball himself up spoke volumes.

Remus sighed and ran his fingers through his hair before reaching into the box and pulling the final book from the depths of the box. A children’s book?

“The Legend of Thunder Boy?” Remus read, opening the simplistically illustrated book and revelling in the artwork. It seemed to be a native story about why the people of a particular tribe did not fear the thunder which came with the spring rains. But why would this book get sent with other books which were obviously about electricity? “Well, Elias, I guess I’ve found what I’ll read to you today.”

Opening the book to the first page, Remus cleared his throat and looked down at the boy as though he were paying attention.

“Long, long ago a man and his wife and their daughter lived alone on an island in the country of the Ha… hau-den-o-saunee,” Remus frowned at the name, struggling to pronounce the unfamiliar word. He may have been used to struggling through the Latin texts of the magical world, but American Indian words were a beast in and of themselves. “The family raised corn, beans and squash in their large garden. One day, as the family toiled outside, the sky grew very dark. Clouds blocked the sun as they gathered swiftly overhead.

“The father yelled to his wife and daughter telling them to seek shelter in their longhouse before the heavy downpour ensued. The mother also yelled for her daughter, telling her to quit her work and come into the house.

“After issuing their warning the parents fled to their home. Before they could make it half way home heavy rain began to fall. Lightning illuminated the sky and thunder rumbled above them. When they reached their home they waited for their daughter. The couple believed their child was following behind. When she did not arrive they thought she had sought shelter in the forest to escape the storm.”

Remus took a moment to watch as the illustrations in the book fled from the black clouds rolling in, bringing with them flashes of lightning and rain. He had heard tales of how the storms in America were extremely violent, rivalling the worst storms whipped up by the North Sea, but with destruction that was horrifying in its intensity. He could only imagine how terrifying such a storm would be to be caught out in.

“As the rain abated,” he continued, flipping to the next page. “The parents returned to the field to look for their child. But, the search was in vain. Their calls went unanswered. With heavy hearts, they went back to their home. ‘The Thunder People have taken her away from us,’ said the mother, as she wiped away her tears.

“The mother’s fears were not unfounded. Before the storm hit the island, the daughter was indeed working in the field. She heard her parents’ cries to stop her work and come home. She dropped her hoe and started to follow them.

“But her flight was impeded. Without any warning a sudden heavy mist surrounded her, and she became very dizzy. Suddenly, she felt herself being lifted up into the sky. Dazed and unable to resist, she was carried far up above the earth. The girl eventually found herself in a strange land. Upon being placed back on the ground, she saw a little man – the one who had brought her to this strange place.”

Remus frowned as he tried to figure out what species the ‘little man’ could have been. An elf, possibly? Or maybe a goblin? Though surely the girl would have been more afraid to be taken in by a goblin. Or perhaps these were the original beings who tended to the great American thunderbird?

“The little man took her by the hand and led her to a long council house. Upon entering the house, the girl saw many other little men, all of whom stared at her unabashedly. At the far end of the house, the chief of the little people sat. The little chief appeared to be very angry when he saw the girl and her escort.

“‘Son,” said the chief, ‘Why would you bring an earth person to our country?’

“‘Father,’ replied the son, ‘I saw her working in the field and fell instantly in love with her. I had to have her for my own, so I brought her to our country.’

“The chief’s anger remained. He told his son that the girl should stay upon the earth, that her ways were very different. ‘She cannot eat snails, bugs and worms as we do,’ said the chief. ‘But if you insist on keeping her with you, you must return to earth and bring back food for her. Remember, the ways of the Thunder People are different from the ways of the Earth People.’”

These ‘small men’ certainly sounded more like elves, possibly related to the Veela, though Remus resigned himself to being left in the dark as to what species they were. He was still quite confused, however, as to how this story tied into the request for electricity. Even the Thunderbird did not require electricity to generate its tell-tale thunderclap, only a pulse of its intrinsic magic.

“The son loved the girl, and agreed to provide her with food. Every day he would travel down to earth to secure food for the girl who had become his wife.

“For one year the earth girl lived in the country of the Thunder People. Her husband doted upon her, fulfilling her every wish. She was very happy. Even though she missed her parents she never felt lonesome.

“Then one day, the chief came to the girl telling her she would soon give birth to a son. ‘You must return to your island home, as your son should not be born in this land. Before you go, there is one thing I must warn you. After the boy is born, you must guard him well, warning everyone never to strike him. If someone should strike the boy you will lose him forever.’

“Immediately following the chief’s warning the girl was once again surrounded by a heavy mist. Again she became dazed and found herself traveling at great speed back toward earth. In just a short period of time, she opened her eyes to find herself back in her homeland in front of her parents’ house. The girl’s parents were elated. They thought they had lost their child forever. The girl shared her strange experience with her parents, informing them that she would soon give birth to a son.

“The prediction of the Thunder People’s chief came true. The girl did have a son. The boy was smaller than an earth child and many of his habits were different from an ordinary boy’s.” Remus read, nodding his head. This child certainly sounded like some sort of half-magical creature. “Sometimes the boy’s behavior perplexed his family. For instance, whenever a thunderstorm approached the island the boy would become very excited. He would run outdoors and laugh and play about in the storm. As he romped in the rain, the thunder seemed to roar louder and more frequently. Lightning flashes accompanied the thunder brightening up the sky.

“The boy’s grandmother did not like his preoccupation with the storm. She did not like him running out into the inclement weather. Whenever a storm approached, she would attempt to shut the boy up in the house. Her efforts were to no avail, however, as he always managed to escape.

“One day as a storm threatened, the grandmother locked the boy inside the house. She scolded the boy and forbade him to go outside. The boy became very angry. He ran around the house breaking everything in his path. The grandmother warned him to control his temper, but this only made him angrier.”

Remus smirked at the idea. Surely the child was magical, he did seem to have creature blood after all. The grandmother seemed to be setting herself up for a bout of accidental magic, something he doubted very much she would be prepared for.

“A strange thing happened when the boy became angry. Faint sounds, reminiscent of distant thunder, came from his body. The angrier he became, the louder the sound. His grandmother insisted he stop the noise and his tantrum. The boy ignored her, and continued to wreak havoc upon the house.

“The grandmother was enraged. She took a stick and struck the boy across his legs. Instantly, there was a blinding flash of lightning followed by deafening thunder. A heavy mist consumed the room. The grandmother was terrified and fled to a corner to wait out the disturbance. When the mist cleared the boy was gone. Far off in the distance she heard a faint roll of thunder...”

Remus felt his eyes grow wide as a realization of what he had read sunk in, the book falling from his hands. They had been thinking about this the wrong way entirely. There were obviously some questions which he would not be able to answer without proper testing and research, but … how had they missed this?

Remus quickly picked the book up from where it had fallen and reread the last paragraph, his mind flashing to the analogy of the Thunderbird. How did the Thunderbird make thunder? A pulse of magic. How did lightning make thunder? A pulse of electricity. Magic could be channeled through metal, so could electricity. Magic would cause muggle electronics to malfunction, but it was routinely noted that wizards could ‘sense’ the electricity in the air when in muggle population centers. Surely they weren’t the same… They couldn’t possibly be the same thing, could they?

He knew where he needed to go next. He needed to find a book on elemental magic, possibly even dipping his toe into the Dark Arts. He needed to know more about the conjuring of lightning and the beginnings of magic. He needed to know and he needed answers he doubted very much the library of Hogwarts had.

He needed to visit Sirius.

“Alright, sir,” Healer Marquath said determinedly, pulling her wand from its holster on her left wrist. “When we wake him, he may be rather confused at first. He certainly will not know where he is, and, hopefully, he won’t remember what brought him here in the first place.”

Severus nodded, firmly grasping Elias’s cool hand in preparation for him to awaken for the first time in nearly a week. “Will he be able to move?”

“He has been on several strong antispasmodics for nearly a week,” Healer Marquath calmly stated. “He may be able to move, but we are not expecting great dexterity from him, nor are we expecting him to be able to tolerate sitting up for long periods of time. The bigger concern will be his state of mind when he awakens.”

Severus nodded. That was what he was worried about too. Elias hadn’t been very coherent when he and Madam Pomfrey were rushing him to St Mungo’s, so it was hard to gage if there had been any damage to his brain when he had his… episode. It was terrifying to think of the amount of potential damage, but there was really no way to tell how bad it was without waking him up.

And today was the day they would be doing just that.

“Ready?” Healer Marquath said softly, wand hovering over Elias’s heart.

Severus nodded and steeled himself for the possibility of Elias waking up screaming once more.

The healer chanted out the lengthy spell to free Elias from the grasp of the healing sleep and waited on bated breath as well. There was a distinct possibility that the teen would need some sort of calming draught as he woke, but the hope was that wouldn’t be necessary. A calming draught may make it necessary for the boy to require the respiration spell be placed back on him to stabilize his breathing once more. It was a fine balancing act and one she vehemently disliked when it came to waking patients.

Elias stirred and took a deep breath, weakly struggling against Severus’s hand as he struggled to open his eyes for the first time in nearly a week. His mind felt quite fuzzy, but that didn’t matter. Nothing much mattered. He didn’t feel like he was floating anymore, but where was he? And how had he gotten here?

“Elias? Da’s here,” a deep voice said next to him as his eyes fluttered open. Was he dead?

“Mmm?” Elias tried to say, his mouth dry and voice hoarse from disuse. “Mmmmh?”

“Here, have him suck on this,” another voice said. “He’s probably quite dry.”

A wet cloth was suddenly pressed against his mouth. What was he supposed to do with it? It was cold and moist and felt good but why was it against his mouth? Was someone trying to kill him? He knew someone was, but he couldn’t put two and two together and figure out who it was. Was this how they were planning to kill him?

Well, he wasn’t going to have any of that.

“Elias, open your mouth,” the deep voice said, continuing to press the cloth against the boy’s mouth. “Good lad.”

Elias felt the cloth being forced into his mouth and tried to swat at the offending cloth. He wanted water, but not poison. Why else would a cloth be placed into his mouth? He didn’t want poison. The hand holding the cloth was insistant, however, and he couldn’t seem to muster the strength to physically grab the cloth and remove it.

So he did the next best thing.

“Elias, please let go of my finger,” the deep voice said, gently prying his finger out from between the boy’s teeth.

“Ah!” Elias said as the cool cloth was removed from his mouth. “Mmmm!”

“Did he have a nickname growing up?” the other voice said. “Sometimes people respond better to their nicknames than their real name.”

“He didn’t live with me as he grew up. If he had a nickname, I am unaware as to what it may be.”

Elias moaned as memories slowly started filtering into his thoughts. He was … a wizard? That sounded right. And his name was … was…

“Elly? Elly, can you open your eyes for us?” the other voice said again. That's right, his name was Elly Potter…

That didn’t seem right at all. Elias Potter sounded wrong. Harry Potter, that sounded right. Elias Snape sounded right too. But which was his name? Was he both? People were only supposed to have one name, and his was… Elias Snape.

“Come on, Elly,” the deep voice said, repeating what the other voice said. “Open your eyes for us.”

Elias weakly opened his eyes only to allow them to slide shut once more. Why were there four people in the room with him, and why were they all sets of twins. One set was a lady in maroon clothing with a white cap and the other was a dark haired man in black who was sitting on a chair next to the bed. Both of the dark men were holding two of his four hands.

Four hands? Oh. Something wasn’t right here.

Slowly blinking, he felt his eyes move slowly as the images coalesced into one which made more sense. The dark man felt familiar but the other person he was sure he had never seen before in his life. In fact he was fairly sure he had never been to where ever he was now. The bed felt different, not uncomfortable, but different. And there were short rails along the side of the bed as if to keep him from climbing out.

“Elly? Can you tell me your name?” the person in maroon said as she waved a stick… no, wand… over his head. Maybe she would let him borrow it? He didn’t know where his was, but he was sure his wasn’t wherever here was. Weakly, he reached up towards the wand, seemingly unaware that he wasn’t moving his arms very much.

“Elias, focus,” the dark man said. “Tell the healer what your name is.”

Elias thought about it for a moment before finally registering he was being told what to do by the man… his father! That’s who he was! That was his father!

“Da?” Elias slurred, confusedly. “Wher’m I?”

Severus let out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding. Elias remembered him as his father. He didn’t have to go through that explanation. “You’re at St. Mungo’s. You stopped breathing.”

“Sto’ bweefin’?” Elias said confusedly before the memory of that terrifying night flashed through his head. “Da, I sto’ bweefin!”

“I know Elias,” Severus said calmly. “Now, I need you to focus on answering the healer’s questions. Can you do that?”

Elias nodded slightly. He would try to be good. He would really try, but something didn’t feel right and he wasn’t sure what it was. It was really hard to focus on any one thing at a time.

“Alright, can you tell me your name?” the healer asked, putting her wand away for the time being. Elias’s focus seemed to constantly wander to the object and he seemed as though he really wanted to play around with it.

“‘Lees Snae,” Elias slurred, trying to keep his eyes focused on the healer. She wasn’t Madam Pomfrey, so who was she? Where did she come from? Had she been there when he stopped breathing? If so, why was he not in the Hospital Wing?

“Alright, Elias. When is your birthday?” the healer asked.

Elias paused for a long while as he thought. He knew his birthday wasn’t his birthday anymore but it was his birthday day and he didn’t know when that day was going to be but it was his birthday and he was turning… sixteen? Fifteen sounded more right, but wasn’t he already fifteen?

“Um…” Elias muttered, turning to his father before answering. His breath quickened as he struggled to remember the right date. Had they even set a date? He wasn’t sure. “Um…”

“His relatives may not have ever celebrated it when he was growing up,” Severus quietly covered for him.

The healer nodded, her face falling sympathetically as she looked at the confused teen in the bed. He was obviously trying to remember, but he was struggling to come up with the right words. “It’s ok, Elly. Sometimes it's hard to remember things like that, isn’t it?”

Elias nodded, frown still on his face as he continued trying to remember what they were talking about. It felt like it was important, but what was it? The healer had been asking him things, but he couldn’t remember what it was she had said.

“I sto’ bweefin?” Elias asked, clutching his hands over his chest.

“You did indeed,” Severus said sadly, running his fingers through his son’s fringe before turning to the healer. “Do you have any further questions for him?”

“Not at the moment,” the healer said with a small smile. “I’ll give him a few hours to wake up before I do any more in depth testing.”

Severus nodded and turned back to Elias, sighing as his son stared at the curtains as though they were made of gold. He hoped that all that it was was a reaction to the healing sleep, but the concern that it was not burnt in his heart painfully. It hurt to think that Lily’s son… his son… was back in the hospital again and the possibility of him not coming home was high.

“Da?” Elias said, pulling Severus from his thoughts. “I sto’ bweefin’?”

Severus sighed. It looked like he would be having a very long day of answering the same question multiple times.
Chapter End Notes:
Couple of housekeeping things for this chapter:

1: The Native American tale is actually a real tale that I found while researching stuff for this story. I am shamelessly borrowing it because it fits too well into this story. It is an Oneida tale and their historical lands were not too terribly far from the canonical location of Ilvermorny. Like I said: fit's too well to not be included.

Here's the link to the original story: https://www.oneidaindiannation.com/the-legend-of-thunder-boy/

2: What happened to Elias's stutter? His stutter is caused by the muscles in his throat twitching. He's currently on enough muscle relaxers that that isn't happening, but instead he is slurring.

3: I'm acutely aware of how the vast majority of you have been reading his name in your head (if you are primarily English speakers). In the spirit of Levi-Oh-sa vs. Levio-SAh, Elias's name is actually pronounced El-ee-ahs (not Eel-eye-as) which is a far more common continental European pronunciation. I actually went to school with an exchange student from Austria named Elias. He tried to get everyone to call him 'Elly' because that's what he was used to everyone calling him, but had to settle for 'Eli' because no one ever thought to pronounce his name the right way.

Don't dwell too much on that last bit though, it's just semantics and is the reason they're calling him "Elly."

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