A trip down memory lane
Mr Pleasant leaned in close so only Harry could hear him. “You’re a wizard, Harry.”
He was a wizard. He was magic. He had powers and that’s why his aunt and uncle hated him. They must have known. Maybe his mum and dad where magic too? He wasn’t sure if he should feel bad for proving his aunt and uncle right, that he WAS a freak, or if he should be happy because there were other people like him. That was later Harry's problem, he decided.
“So what's the difference between a wizard and a sorcerer?” Harry asked.
“That” Mr Pleasant started. Harry was sure that if he had eyes, he would have been blinking. “Is a very good question.”
“Don’t you even know how your magic works?” Doctor Grouse snapped at Mr Pleasant.
Mr Pleasant crossed is arms and tilted his head to the side, as if he was thinking really hard. “I know I was told once, but I was alive and drunk at the time. The only part I remember is that the more magic we use, the slower we age as the magic rejuvenates us. Oh! And something about channels, then it goes a bit fuzzy”
Doctor Grouse scoffed, “While not inaccurate, there’s a lot more to it. Sorcerers, Elemental and Adept alike act as a sort of conductor. Anyone born with the ability to use magic are born with a sort of magical nervous system. This system will have a form of magical draw to it. Think of a magnet. The positive end, being the sorcerer, attracts the negative end, being magic that makes up the foundation of the universe. These aren’t active from birth, however. The initial training for all sorcerers, whether they realise it or not, is opening these pathways to use whichever branch of magic they have decided on. As they continue to train, these pathways get so used to being open that they naturally draw in the surrounding magic and the sorcerers body begins to store the unused magic, like a car tank filling with petrol. The more training continues, the bigger this tank becomes. Eventually, the tank reaches a point where it causes the sorcerers body to adapt to the branch of magic they have selected for themselves and locks them to it. This is called the surge. Once the surge occurs, the sorcerer’s body will begin to siphon off a small amount of the stored magic to keep the body young and healthy, whist also allowing the pathways to continuously draw in magic to top up the tank, as it were. This is why, those that use larger amounts of magic more regularly, stay young and healthy for longer. Take myself for example, my magic takes a decent amount of magic regularly, thus I look older than those who use a large amount of magic more often.”
“If it’s ok, can I ask how old you are? Harry asked, timidly. He didn’t want to be rude, but this was all so interesting!
Doctor Grouse chuckled, “I don’t mind at all young man, questions are always good to ask.” This got a nod from Mr Pleasant as well. “As for my age, I was born 19th of February in the year 1400. I am now 601 years old and still not close to dying of old age.” Doctor Grouse said with amusement, clear in his voice.
Mr Pleasant snorted, “keep telling yourself that. I give you 10 years at best”
Doctor Grouse levelled a glare at the skeleton, but both of them missed the confusion on the young boy’s face. “That can’t be right” Harry started slowly.
Doctor Grouse looked back to Harry, face softening instantly. “Young man, I promise you that I am not joking” he started, but Harry cut him off.
“No, sir. I believe that you’re telling the truth. You don’t seem mean enough to lie. I mean it doesn’t add up. You should only be 587, right?”
“587? Young man, what was the date when you left your dimension?” Doctor Grouse asked softly, as if not to cause the boy to panic.
It didn’t work.
“It’s the 1st of June 1987, right? I haven’t travelled through time as well. Right?” Harry asked rapidly. This was all starting to get a bit much for him!
Mr Pleasant knelt down and spoke much softer than a skeleton had any right to. “ Kind of, but not really. Some dimensions run at slightly staggered time flows as other. We aren’t quite sure why this is. If you ever want to go back, you will enter that dimension relative to the amount of time here.”
Harry started to calm down as he processed this information. “So if I stay here for a year, only a year will have passed there?”
Mr Pleasant waved his hand in so-so motion. “Sort of. Shunters are our only way of travelling between dimensions reliably. They can carry a few people with them to dimensions but that kind of screws with when you land. We don’t know if that is a Shunter problem or a problem with dimension hopping in general. It’s not exactly something that can be researched easily.”
“Are you going to send me back?” Harry asked, curling in on himself. He didn’t want to leave. These people had been so nice to him. Nicer than he can remember anyone being. And he wanted to learn magic! He didn’t know if there was anywhere to learn where he was from!
“That’s up to you kid. Honestly, no-one could make you. And even if they could, they would have to find a Shunter willing to transport a child. There are only 2 known Shunters in Ireland at the moment. One powering a rather ingenious prison, of which, he is a prisoner. The second, is supposedly travelling the dimensions they can access, documenting everything they can.”
Hope bloomed in his chest. It was a nice feeling, he decided. “So I can stay? I can learn magic? Or would I have to go to normal school first?”
“You could do both at the same time, if you wanted. Again, no-one can force you to do anything. But we will have to register you at the Irish Sanctuary, our magic government. If only to give you a legal identity.” Mr Pleasant said as he stood.
Doctor Grouse chimed in, fiddling with a new metal stick, this one a sort of brown colour. “Only after one last test. Since you have a different type of magic, I need to run a more in depth scan to see if there are any issues or problems from crossing dimensions.”
Harry nodded happily. More tests sounded safe. And if he could learn anything else about his magic, then maybe he could use it sooner!
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After another 2 hours of testing, Harry was exhausted. It wasn’t that he was bored, in fact, he was fascinated. After 10 minutes, Doctor Grouse had declared his pathways perfectly healthy, if abnormally strong for his age and lack of training. Harry also appeared to have a build up of magic already stored inside him. Grouse hypothesised that this build up was the magic that wizards used to fuel their spells, as the magical signature was specific to Harry, and not keyed to any branch of magic used by sorcerers. The doctor had picked up a small amount of dark magic lodged in his scar and spent a solid hour running tests on that alone. It seemed to puzzle him, until Harry mentioned a nightmare he had occasionally of a woman screaming and a flash of green light. Doctor Grouse explained that this was a repressed memory that Harry remembered subconsciously, and that he could view the full thing with Harry’s permission.
Harry instantly consented, too curious about the process to deny his request.
As it turned out, it was a very bittersweet moment for Harry.
Doctor Grouse explained that he was going to view the memory with a device he invented to allow greater access to someone’s subconscious. This then transmitted the memory to a flat crystal, roughly the size of a bathroom mirror. It even processed sound, for better or worse on this occasion.
The memory started from a baby Harry’s perspective, looking up at a smiling man with black, unruly hair and glasses. He looked like an adult Harry in all honesty. It didn’t take him long to realise this was his father. The man was rocking Harry softly, babbling soft noises to him with such love and care that Harry couldn’t stop himself from crying.
After a minute or 2, he was handed off to a woman with vibrant red hair and Harry’s green eyes. Harry had always loved his eye colour. Now he knew why. His mother had such bright eyes and a beautiful smile. “Thank you, James. I’m going to take him to bed now, if he’ll let me” His mother said softly. She had an incredibly soft voice. It was somehow new to Harry but he felt like he had heard it a million times.
Harry’s father nodded with a smile and went into another room. Harry’s mother then carried Harry up the stairs and into a room, smiling softly the whole way. His room he realised. Before she could lower Harry into his cot, there was a loud explosion coming from down the stairs.
“Lily!” Harry’s father shouted. “It’s him! Take Harry and run! I’ll hold him off!” Harry saw his mother looked terrified. She seemed to be trying to do something, but whatever it was, it wasn’t working.
There was a high pitch laugh from another room in the house and multiple flashes of light, but all this was somehow faded in the background as his mother started talking lovingly to Harry.
“Mama loves you. Dada loves you, Harry. You are so, so loved” There was green flash of light in the background, followed by a meaty thud. “You are such a special boy Harry. Mama won’t let anything happen to you.” His mother was crying, but still she smiled with so much love that it physically hurt something in Harry’s chest.
Foot steps sounded from the stairs, slowly approaching, as if savouring the moment. Harry’s mother finally stood and turned to face the door, hiding Harry behind her back. “Move aside girl. I’m only here for the boy.” The high voice said from the doorway.
“Take me! Not Harry, he’s just a baby!” his mother pleaded, spreading her arms, as if to shield Harry further.
“Stand aside and you may live. You can always breed another filthy spawn.” The high voice said, with clear distain in his voice.
“Not Harry! I’ll never abandon my son!” Harry’s mother retorted defiantly. But Harry could hear the fear in her voice.
“Last chance. Stand aside and you will live” the high pitch voice sounded frustrated now.
“Never.” And then Harry’s mother threw herself at the man. Unfortunately, before she could even reach the person, a green flash shot through the room, and his mother dropped dead instantly.
Harry finally got a good look at the thing that killed his parents. He had a bald white head, his face was sunken to the point of looking barely more than a skull, cold red eyes and a flat nose with slits for nostrils. He had the audacity to shrug at his mother’s corpse before turning his attention to Harry.
“Harry Potter. Son of those who thrice defied me. You will not live another day.” He said, as if he was gloating. He stepped over his mother’s corpse, to stand just in front of Harry. The man slowly raised a white stick at Harry and roared “AVADA KEDAVRA!” and a green light shot towards Harry. Before the light could reach him, 2 black disks formed, one in front of Harry and one behind the man. Most of the light was absorbed by the disk in front of Harry, before the rest of the light collided with Harry’s forehead. As Harry’s vision began to fade, he saw a green light shoot out of the second disk, hitting the man in the back and he exploded with a massive shockwave, finally knocking baby Harry out and ending the memory.
When the memory ended, the room was silent of all noise other than Harry’s soft sniffing. Harry had silently cried through the whole memory, but now he was barely holding back his anguish. Doctor Grouse turned to Harry, looking heartbroken for him. He gently removed the device from Harry’s head, looked Harry directly in the eyes and softly uttered a painfully sombre “I’m so sorry.”
Harry could only shake his head and shrug. If he spoke now, he would break. He would not break in front of the kind doctor, who had given him such a bittersweet gift. It may have been his parent’s death, but now he knew he had been loved and what they looked like.
Doctor Grouse, merely smiled hollowly at him. The doctor then turned to Mr Pleasant, nodded, and walked slowly out of the room. Mr Pleasant turned to look at Harry and opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Harry lunging at him and hugging him as tight as his small arms could. Finally, Harry broke. He wailed before he could stop himself and he body shuddered uncontrollably. He cried for love he had felt and the pain of losing his parents. They were so young and they were murdered because they protected him. He promised, in that moment, on those tears that flowed so freely that he would not let them down and not let their sacrifice go to waste.
As his body finally started to settle and his tears slowed, he realised Mr Pleasant had be returning the hold, comforting him as best as he could. Before Harry could pull away, Mr Pleasant spoke. “I lost my family due to very similar circumstances. There was a war and we were winning. I was a big part of that. So the other side set a trap for me and my family. The funny thing about a good trap, is you don’t see it until it is sprung. My wife and child were captured and killed in front of me by a monster named Serpine. He had a magic that could kill instantly too. He killed them in front of me and then I was lost in rage. I grabbed a dagger that was near me and then I was paralysed. It was poisoned and I would have noticed if I wasn’t blinded by rage. I was then strung up and burned alive publicly. I woke up a few days later as a bag of bones in a river and was still lost to rage.”
Mr Pleasant paused as he moved back to look Harry directly in the eyes. “I’m not telling you this for pity, or even to show you that I understand, even though I do. I’m telling you this for one big reason.” He paused again, making sure Harry was listening. “Don’t be me. Don’t lose yourself to rage or revenge. Learn from this and grow stronger.”
Harry let the words sink in and then nodded. He had already promised to make his parents proud, maybe he could make Mr Pleasant proud too.
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After taking a few moments to calm down and compose himself, Harry and Mr Pleasant left the room to track down Doctor Grouse. After only a few minutes of searching, they found the doctor looking over some notes in a small office. Harry knocked on the door frame and gave the doctor a strained smile when he looked up.
Before the doctor could speak, Harry squared his shoulders and said as sincerely as he could, “thank you. It might not have been happy or pretty, but you let me see my parents. I couldn’t remember what they looked or sounded like before today and I got to see what strong, brave people they were.”
Doctor Grouse looked at him for a moment, as if taking in the honesty of his words. “It was an honour, Harry.” Harry barely managed to hold back a wince when his name was said. “I promise that anything I learnt today will be kept between us 3, unless I have your express permission to share it.”
Harry stared into the doctor’s eyes, weighing the honesty in the man’s words. After a moment, Harry inclined his head with a soft “thank you.” Before anyone else could speak, Harry continued, “Now what did we learn? We watched my memory to learn about the magic in my scar.”
Doctor Grouse looked slightly surprised by the quick change in subject but quickly shook it off. “The magic that man used was clearly death magic.” He began and Harry quickly jumped in.
“But because I didn’t take the full force of it, my magic blocked it, and began to absorb it slowly. Is that right?” Harry asked, confidently.
The doctor slowly nodded, eyes wide with surprise. “Yes. How did you figure it out?”
“Well, my potential in necromancy is apparently massive. I just, guessed that it was enough to absorb small amounts of death magic. And Mr Pleasant said I arrived through a shadow travel portal. That must have been my magic bringing me here away from, uh, well...” Harry trailed off, not wanting to share about what he went through at the Dursley’s. He already told Mr Pleasant accidentally. That was enough for now.
Doctor Grouse studied him for a moment, before flicking his eyes to Mr Pleasant briefly. “Yes, one can assume that you are correct. Very well thought out.”
Mr Pleasant ruffled his hair. When Harry looked over to him, he was sure that if he had a face, Mr Pleasant would be grinning. “We also now know that your parents were definitely wizards.” The skeleton said.
“How do you know? I only thought they were because they didn’t seem surprised by the man using magic to attack them.” Harry said, slightly confused.
Mr Pleasant inclined his head, “While there is that, after you were handed to your mother, your father pulled out what I can only assume was a focus, or a wand specifically, to summon a book to himself. I believe that most wizards can’t access their magic very well without it. Otherwise, the person who attacked your family wouldn’t have been relying on something made of wood. Someone so sure of their power, as he clearly was, would never rely on a crutch so easily broken to channel their power.”
Harry thought about that for a minute, before agreeing that he couldn’t think of a reason why he would use something to help channel magic, if he could do it himself. “Does that mean, I won’t be able to use my magic without a wand either?”
“Not at all. You have already used magic a few times since I met you. You just haven’t noticed. You obviously travelled here under your own power, wizard magic and sorcery combined as I could see from your readings when testing you magic” Doctor Grouse chimed in. “Earlier, you had drained your built up magic, as it was quite low when I first tested your health. But after only an hour, there was a significant increase in those reserves. The drain on that dark magic from your scar is what has been making your reserves build so quickly. That spell was powerful. You took much less than half the spell, and it has taken years for your magic to safely absorb as much power as it has. The more you use your own magic, the quicker that drain will take place, unless you learn to manually open your own pathways and draw the magic in from outside your body.”
“Do you think I will have my own version of a surge? I’d hate to learn magic, only be stuck as a small child” Harry asked. It wouldn’t stop him using magic, but he wouldn’t want to be 6 forever.
“I believe so. When reading your reserves, it appeared to have had a few surges already. If it had only been the one, I would have been worried for your growth. But it still felt young, for lack of a better word. I believe wizards have their reserves grow with their bodies naturally, as well as with practise. Otherwise, you would be stuck with very small reserves until your late teens at least.” Doctor Grouse said, reassuringly.
“Well I believe that covers everything” Mr Pleasant said whilst standing. He turned to Harry “We need to get you registered at the Sanctuary.”
Harry stood before looking at Doctor Grouse. “Thank you for everything, doctor.”
Doctor Grouse remained seated but smiled, “think nothing of it, Harry. There’s a small package waiting for you near the entrance. Please take it with you. There’s a dinner, because I know this one will forget you need to eat” he grumbled, glaring at Mr Pleasant. “There’s also a book on animal magic. It’s all I have on the subject and other than healing, there’s not anything I could teach you. You don’t have a big aptitude for the branch, but it might be a nice place to start.”
“Thank you, I’ll bring it back when I’m finished with it.”
“Bah. Keep it. I don’t need it. I read through it when I was younger, trying to recreate something that didn’t work. Let me know if you have any luck.”
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Harry was quiet on the way to the Irish Sanctuary. He had made the mistake of asking just one question. One very important question, that had lead to a fifteen minute long monologue from the skeleton. “That’s a cool car. What is it?” He had asked, in his childlike innocence.
“That, Harry, is one of only 208 1954 Bentley R-type continentals ever made.” From there, Mr Pleasant had waffled on about everything he could about the car. Harry translated it to “I’ve updated it over the years”. He had tuned Mr Pleasant out very quickly. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about the car, he just didn’t understand most what was being said.
“You’re not listening, are you?” Mr Pleasant asked Suddenly.
“I stopped after you said that you have updated it over the years.”
Mr Pleasant scoffed good naturedly. “Well it has been a long day. It’s about to get longer. The council of Elders are a pain in the arse to deal with.”
“Why? Are they not nice?”
“It’s more that they don’t like change. They were in charge during the 300 year war, but, it’s peacetime now. Anything that risks changing that scares them. And so it should. War isn’t nice. It’s bloody and dirty and deadly. So they bury their head and pretend nothing bad is happening.”
“Is there something bad happening?”
“Something bad is always happening. I just need to find proof.”
“But aren’t there people for that?”
“I am people for that.”
“...what?”
“I’m a detective, mostly freelance but I do work for the Sanctuary when they have a case for me.”
“Oh, that’s pretty cool. So you figure out what the bad guys are doing and stop them?”
“That is exactly what I do.”
The rest of the drive was done in silence, with Harry eating his dinner and giving the book he was given a brief look over. It wasn’t a published book, with a title or a blurb on the back, rather a collection of detailed notes. Harry didn’t get a chance to read much further than the first two pages before they reached a wax museum building. Luckily, those first two pages explained that anyone with potential in druid magic could speak to, and understand a minimum of one type of animal and could also transform into at least one animal. For those with very small potential, like Harry, he would have one form that resonated with him as a person. Finding out his animal form wouldn’t be easy though. The book stated that it would only be possible to find his form through meditation and understanding himself, recognising all of his desires and flaws and accepting himself. The book then went on to say that though people change over time and are affected by outside influences, who someone is at their core, never fully changes, so neither does their form.
The book also went on to explain that those with higher potential in druid magic would still have that first initial form, but would be able to transform into other animals as they progressed with their training, along with learning some healing magic, which is why Harry thought Doctor Grouse had the book in the first place.
Placing the book on the seat next to him, Harry and Mr Pleasant climbed out of the car and walked up to the front doors. As they entered, Mr Pleasant, with his disguise of a scarf, massive sunglasses, wig and hat in place, spoke up. “Not going to ask why we’re here?”
“First rule of magic, nothing is as it seems” Harry said, repeating his earlier impromptu lesson back to the detective. “I’m guessing we need to find some kind of hidden door?”
“Exactly” the skeleton said cheerfully. “I’ll make a detective out of you yet” he continued, as the walked swiftly through the corridors. They eventually came to a room with wax replicas of some celebrities Harry vaguely recognised. It surprised him that he would recognise any of them but maybe things weren’t so different from his own dimension.
Mr Pleasant then walked up to one of the walls and began tapping his knuckle along it. “I really wish they wouldn’t keep moving it” he muttered, until he finally stopped and pressed a seemingly normal brick, further into the wall. A section of the wall, next to where the brick was pressed, shimmered slightly, before fading away, revealing a stone stairway leading downwards. As they walked down, Harry heard the wall seal behind them. Torches lining the wall lit their way, and seemed to get brighter as they neared the bottom. When they finally reached the end of the stairs, Harry was surprised to see the place didn’t resemble a medieval dungeon, like the stairs would suggest, but a brightly lit foyer with the walls, floors and ceiling made of marble and decorative pieces made of varnished wood lined the walls.
There were two tall guards either side of a door at the far end of the room. They were dressed in long, grey coats and had grey helmets on that completely hid their faces. Strapped to their backs, were long poles with a long , sharp curved blade at one end. Honestly, they really unnerved Harry, with the way they seemed to radiate the feeling of danger.
A slight man in a suit approached Mr Pleasant, snapping Harry out of his thoughts. “Detective” the man began with a frown. “We don’t have you down for a meeting today.”
“I’ve come in to bring my personal report on the power readings I was sent to investigate.” Mr Pleasant replied.
“Ah, well, let me just send them a message and they will see you when they are ready.” The slight man said, before scampering away.
The pair didn’t have to wait long. Barely 5 minutes had passed, when the guarded doors opened and someone walked dressed in a black cloak walked out. Harry couldn’t see their face, as with the hood up, their face was shrouded in shadow perfectly. Even walking past the torches, the shadows didn’t shift.
“Detective” the person started. The voice was clearly feminine, but with an aged quality. “I’m afraid the rest of the council are busy at the moment, so you’ll have to settle with me.” Harry could feel the woman’s eye drift to him. “And who is this young man?”
“I haven’t taken a name yet ma’am, but it’s nice to meet you” Harry said, holding his hand out. The woman hesitated for a moment before taking his hand and giving it a surprisingly firm shake.
“Morwenna Crow, Necromancer Elder of the Elder court.” She said. She then turned back to Mr Pleasant. “I trust this is to do with your report?”
“He is the report. He shadow travelled from a different dimension accidentally. Where he’s from, instead of sorcerers, there are wizards that, from what I can tell, rely on foci, namely wands, to use their magic.”
“I believe I read about that one. Our only free Shunter is on an expedition in every dimension he can access, detailing as much as he can as he does. That dimension seems to be the only one accessible to him that contains these wand bearing wizards. That will make it easier to send you back young man.” Harry tensed at this. He didn’t want to go back. “However,” she continued, “we aren’t expecting another report for another year or 2. It takes him time to build a report on each dimension and he usually visits 2 or 3 between reports.” This caused Harry to relax, this gave him time to convince them to let him stay at least.
“Um, I would rather stay please ma’am. My home life wasn’t exactly...nice” he said quietly.
Mrs Crow looked at him for a moment, before nodding. “How about this, I train you in your necromancy magic, as you clearly have quiet the natural talent. Then, when I deem you ready to travel back, we can discuss this again then. I would hate to send you back, only to have an accident because you couldn’t control your magic.”
“Yes please. But, where will I stay? I’m happy to work to earn my keep.”
“I’m sure Detective Pleasant can host you. He earns plenty of money for a man who doesn’t need to eat.” Mrs Crow said, amusement clear in her voice. Harry looked at Mr Pleasant, who nodded slowly. “I’m glad you agree Detective. I’m afraid I am a busy woman, but I’ll make sure to give you a lesson at least once a month. As for registering you, young man, you will have to pick a name before we can make anything official. We wouldn’t want anyone using your given name to control you now, would we?”
“No ma’am. But how do you know what to pick?” Harry asked and looked at Mr Pleasant when he spoke.
“You’ll know what’s right when the words suit you. Never look for words that seem cool. I once met a short, very fat man called Razor, for example.”
“Right.” Morwenna said, sound bemused. “Well if that is everything gentlemen, I will see you sometime next week. As a form of homework, young man, see if you can form shadows in or around your hand.” And with that, she turned around and walked briskly out of the doors she entered through.
Harry jolted when he felt a bony hand gently touch his shoulder. “Come on kid. Let’s get you home”
Home. Yeah, that sounded good.