Harry
Summer 1988
Harry winced as pain radiated through his fingers, dropping the heavy gardening shears with a thud as he hurried to put his wounded fingers in his mouth. Blood filled his mouth with copper and salt, and his fingers throbbed and stung as his tongue laved over the deep cuts. The bitter taste made his stomach curl up, but quenched some of the dehydrated dryness.
He took his small bony fingers out of his mouth, and grimaced. The wound was deep, it leaked in dark crimson rivers down the index finger of his left hand. It was a curved V-shaped gash from knuckle to tip that broke through the nail, the fatty tissues and bone visible under the gore.
Harry's hand shook with a throbbing raw soreness. The blood had begun to drip down and form a small a merlot colored puddle at his feet. The shears were laying by his feet, the blade still wet and ruby tinged, and his hand throbbed with a sharp vicious sort of pain that had spread up his whole arm.
The Dursleys' wouldn't be happy about this. It was his fault for being careless. Harry had only just gotten out of a three day stay in his cupboard for turning his teachers hair blue with his freakishness. He wasn't looking forward to being sent back to the cupboard, because his stomach was already in knots from the lack of food, and his mouth was already bone dry from what little water he'd been able sneak during his once a day bathroom privileges.
Harry had gotten dizzy from the scorching summer heat, his ears ringing and head full of cotton as his vision darkened. He'd swooned and lost control of the shears, cutting himself instead of the hedge. The pain had drawn him back out of the fainting spell, but now, with his finger bleeding, he felt betrayed by his body. He should be used to the long periods without food, Harry was always in trouble. He couldn't believe he'd been so stupid.
"You okay?"
Harry startled at the sound of a voice, and glanced over the white fence to see a man who looked much like him. Harry would have wondered if this was his father, had he not been so young.
The stranger had the same starmap of dark moles splattered on his warm bronze colored skin. His hair was longer than Harry's, but just as black, and the messy bun he had it in was just as wild as Harry's mop of raven curls. Though his face was not as soft and babyish as Harry's, they had the same thin, narrow, fox-like face. The same high cheekbones, slim straight nose, and large almond shaped jewel green eyes. He wore glasses, but unlike Harry's large round taped glasses, he wore stylish black-framed ones with round rectangular lenses.
They could be twins if they were the same age. They even both had scars on their forehead, though Harry's was a little slanted Z, and the stranger had jagged silvery mauve lines of lightning that cut down over the bridge of his nose.
"Here, let me help."
The stranger placed his briefcase on the ground and reached over the hedge unceremoniously. He grabbed Harry's hand, and started to gently clean the blood up with a soft black cloth. It stung something fierce.
He had very nice hands, callused and rough, and he was careful with Harry's wound. His nails reminded Harry of the nails he'd seen on some of Uncle Vernon's work friends' wifes, long, sharp, and painted black. He had several scars - one on his left finger exactly like Harry's wound, several small nicks on his fingers and knuckles, and a very odd one on the back of one hand that read 'I will not tell lies' in spidery loopy writing that looked familiar.
The stranger let go of his hand and reached down for his briefcase. He pulled out a small black case, then held out his hand. Harry hesitantly gave him back his hand. Harry winced as the stranger poured some odd smelling liquid on the cut that numbed his finger, then glanced up as the stranger began to wrap Harry's finger tightly.
He wore nice clothes too, Harry observed silently. He wore a crisp black vest with golden buttons over a dark green dress shirt. His thin black tie had a faint vine-like pattern embroidered in green thread that was so dark it was almost invisible. He wore several thin golden bracelets on his wrists, and on the lapels of his vest he wore a pair of clips shaped like small luna moths, the wings made of pale jade, connected by three golden chains. It all looked expensive, like nothing Harry had ever seen.
None of Uncle Vernon's work associates ever wore anything so luxurious. Actually, his style, though elegant, was exactly the kind of clothes he was certain his uncle would treat with disdain. He looked like the kind of man his uncle would call nasty slurs if they'd crossed paths.
Befuddled, Harry finally found his voice as the stranger let go of his hand, "Umm, are you here to see the Dursleys?" He asked dubiously, slightly unnerved by the uncanny familiarity of the well-dressed and handsome stranger. "Uncle Vernon isn't home, but I could fetch Aunt Petunia for you."
Dudley was at a friend's birthday party, luckily, so Harry hadn't had to deal with him. He didn't expect the stranger was here for his cousin anyways.
The man shook his head. "Actually, dear, I'm here for you."
Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Me?" he asked.
He was suddenly nervous that the social services people had been called again. That was never good for Harry. Vernon and Petunia could talk their way out of trouble expertly, and it always ended in far more pain for Harry than it was worth.
"Yes." The stranger gave him a warm charming smile. "May I come in?"
Harry hesitated for a moment. He could get into serious trouble if he let a social worker onto the property, but there was something about the man that made Harry want to trust him. Besides, no social worker had ever come so well dressed before, so he could reasonably guess the stranger was here for something else. He nodded stiffly.
The stranger came through the front gate and gestured to the porch. "Come sit with me, Harry."
He walked to the porch and sat on the front steps, patting expectantly next to him. Harry stared indecisively at the steps. He was exhausted, but he was caught slacking on his chores he would be punished. He warily crossed the path and sat rigidly by the familiar stranger.
"Who are you?" Harry asked, then before he could crush the hope or stop the words he blurted, "Are you my brother?"
"Not quite." he answered, "My name is Lycoris, and I'm your cousin."
"My cousin?" Harry exclaimed, jerking back with wide eyes.
"Yes, on your father's side." Lycoris smiled, "I apologize for taking so long to meet you. I was only a child when your parents died, and by the time I was old enough to take you in I had to fight to find you again."
Harry didn't say anything, still a little flabbergasted. He fought against the rising hope that the man was here to take him away. Harry had wished often for a relative of his to come and take him away, or even a kind stranger. He had given up on those wishes when he was six, when his aunt told him she was his only living relative. Lycoris looked very much like him, enough that he doubted that his aunt was truthful about that, but honestly Harry would walk away with the devil himself if it got him away from the Dursley's.
"My aunt told me all of my other relatives were dead." Harry stated carefully.
Lycoris sighed bitterly. "Petunia never made any effort to get to know anyone on James's side of the family, and she barely spoke to Lily after she left to go to school. They were never close, and after she left their relationship only got worse."
Harry tried not to show how greedy he was for information. He hadn't even known his parent's names. James and Lily, he put the names in his heart, and vowed to remember their names forever.
"Harry, I'm here because I want you to come live with me." Lycoris solemnly stated.
"Yes!" Harry blurted out urgently, "I would love to leave here. Please let me live with you, I promise I'll be good and do the chores and everything."
"Absolutely, but you don't need to sell yourself. I would have accepted you even if the Dursleys were spoiling you rotten." Lycoris stood and held out a hand, helping Harry to his feet. "I'm not going to pretend I'm your best choice, I'm too young to promise I'll be a perfect caretaker. But, I can promise to care for you better than the Dursley's do, at least."
Harry nodded, then jumped back startled when Lycoris knocked on the door. He bit his lip but stayed silent. He was curious, certainly, but he'd already asked many questions of his newly discovered relative and he did not wish to anger him so much he changed his mind about absconding with Harry. There was muffled footsteps, and then Petunia opened the door with a sour face. She glanced at Harry, then Lycoris and then sneered.
"What has the little delinquent done now?" She asked crossly.
Harry bit back the denial on his tongue as Lycoris spoke, "Mrs. Dursley, I am Lycoris Reynard and I am here to adopt Harry."
Petunia turned purple and her face soured further. "I can't." She said, sniffing. "The boy has to stay."
Harry's heart plummeted. His aunt ushered him inside, grabbing his arm and yanking, and then tried to shut the door.
Lycoris stuck his heeled black boot in the door so she could not close it and when she glared he only grinned. "May I come in?" he asked, "This is not a conversation for prying ears."
His aunt hesitated, but she opened the door wider and let him in. She shot Harry a glare and pointed to the couch, where he sat stiffly. Lycoris sat down next to him and his aunt bustled into the kitchen. She came out several minutes later with a tea tray.
"It's Earl grey." She said. "Do you want milk or sugar?"
"No." Lycoris waved his hand, "Just black for me thank you."
His stomach growled hungrily and Lycoris frowned. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an orange, which he then handed to Harry. Harry decided rather quickly that he did not care if the fruit was poisoned, and he peeled it open. It was sweet and warm as if plucked straight from a sun-soaked tree. Harry forced himself to savor each piece, not knowing how long it would be before he ate again.
Lycoris gave Petunia a venomous look, and his aunt begrudgingly made Harry a cup too. Harry graciously accepted the offered cup. Without prompting, Lycoris added three lumps of sugar and enough cream to turn his tea pale, exactly how Harry liked it. He took a sip and closed his eyes as the warm sweet liquid filled his almost empty belly.
"Mrs. Dursley," Lycoris started, "I'm aware of the circumstances surrounding Harry's placement here, but I am here to inform you that when Harry was left on your doorstep, Dumbledore wasn't aware that he had other relatives who could take him in. I am Harry's first cousin, once removed, on his father's side."
Petunia's face did a complicated fascinating sort of twitching and the emotions that passed over her face were unfamiliar to Harry. "You're one of his lot, are you?"
Harry wondered what exactly she meant, and why it made her look so disgusted. Lycoris simply raised an unimpressed eyebrow and set his teacup down. "Yes, I am." He stated.
His aunt hesitated and then begrudgingly nodded. "Take him." She said.
Harry felt all at once felt elated and sad. Finally, he was free, but had he meant so little to her? He naively expected more resistance.
"You are certain he won't have an issue with Harry leaving?" Petunia asked warily as Lycoris started pulling some paperwork from his briefcase.
"He will." Lycoris tipped his head to the side, "in face, I imagine Dumbledore will be rather persistent in getting Harry back to your," here he paused considering, then sneered, "care, shall we say. Regardless, Albus Dumbledore doesn't have the authority to prevent me from leaving with Harry, so long as you consent to him leaving. You will not have to worry about Harry returning to you at all, but I will need a few things from you."
He awkwardly stood, wondering about who exactly Dumbledore was, and shuffled closer to the hall. "I'll just go get my things."
Lycoris turned to him and smiled. "Take only what you don't wish to leave behind, Harry. I'll replace everything else," he said. "Money is no issue."
Harry stood with his hand on the hallway door before dropping it to his side. "I don't have anything I really want to keep." He said, sadly, returning to the sofa. A part of him was worried, what if Lycoris did not buy replacements after all, but he fought against the feeling. Lycoris poured him another glass of tea.
"What do you need?" Petunia prompted, setting her teacup on the cork board coster.
"Memories." Lycoris' smile was cruel and dangerous. Petunia reared back as if she had been slapped. Harry was confused how his aunt was expected to provide such information. "You will provide me with every memory you have of Harry's living here - his living arrangements, every memory of your abuse and neglect of my cousin - and you will sign these custody papers. I will take care of everything from my end."
His aunt nodded stiffly. "How?"
Lycoris pulled a long thin stick from the sleeve of his shirt, the bangles jangling. It was bone white and polished, with teeth marks in the wood. For some reason it made his aunt look extremely wary and sour. He pulled a small container from the briefcase, like a perfume bottle. It was long and crystalline, the stopper was a silver and pointed.
"Just remember." Lycoris instructed, standing and moving carefully over to her. Petunia trembled but nodded stiffly and closed her eyes.
Lycoris moved the stick to his aunt's temple, then as he pulled it away there was a wispy silver light trailing from her head. Harry gasped and watched, entranced, as his cousin poured the cloudy silvery light into the bottle. A few moments later, the silvery light stopped, and Lycoris put the stopper on the vial, and placed it in the briefcase.
"Thank you for your cooperation." Lycoris said as he sat down again next to Harry. Petunia took a shaky sip of tea.
It was at that moment that the door opened, and Uncle Vernon came in. He took one look at Harry, Petunia, and Lycoris and fixed Harry with a poisonous look.
"Who's this then?" he grunted, dropping his keys into the dish by the door.
"Mr. Reynard is a relative of the boy's." His aunt said simply. She opened her mouth, perhaps to explain that he was taking Harry away, but Vernon beat her to it.
"I'll not have another freak in my home." He shouted. "I won't stand for it!"
He stepped forward as if to take a swing, and Harry flinched, but his fist never reached Lycoris.
To Harry's great amazement, his uncle was raised up into the air, as if pulled by invisible strings, and he watched as Lycoris stood and moved the stick in a complicated sort of movement. Petunia screamed, rushing at his uncle, and she joined him in the air. Another movement of the stick and they reacted as if they were drowning, everything from their hair to clothes moving in the air as if through water, to the way they seemed to choke on the very air. Harry watched in morbid fascination, shaking and horrified, unable to look away.
"Shall I kill them, Harry?" Lycoris asked, startling Harry. There was no malice on his face, only curiosity and patience. "Shall I kill them for what they did to you?"
For the smallest fraction of a moment, Harry almost entertained the idea. "No." He said after the smallest pause of contemplation. It wouldn't be right to orphan Dudley, just because he gated them.
"Pity." Instantly they dropped to the floor, gasping for air. Lycoris snapped and a set of papers appeared in his hand.
"Sign." He told Petunia, offering her an old fountain pen.
His aunt grabbed the pen with trembling fingers. She looked at Harry. "Is this truly what you want?"
Harry glanced at his aunt and uncle, and then at Lycoris. His cruel hateful relatives, or the mysterious stranger who could do impossible and deadly things.
He nodded. "I do."
His aunt signed and initialed where Lycoris pointed, while Vernon stayed back suspiciously silent and purple-faced. Harry wondered if Lycoris had done something else to prevent him from moving.
"A pleasure." Lycoris waved his hand and the papers disappeared. He offered Harry his hand.
Harry took it and asked, "Where are we going?"
"Home." his strange dangerous cousin responded, and then the world spun around like a top and Harry closed his eyes.
When the spinning stopped Harry took a moment to stop feeling dizzy before he opened his eyes, and instantly he blinked with disbelief. They were standing on a street in London when they had only moments before been standing in the Dursley's living room. He stared wide-eyed, unbelieving then turned to Lycoris with an astonished expression. He meant to ask how they were in London, but, "Are you magic?" he found himself asking instead.
Lycoris laughed, not boisterous or teasing, just quietly amused, and he nodded. "I'm a wix." He said, and Harry felt a fresh wave of astonishment, but it was nothing compared to the disbelief when he continued with, "As are you, Harry."
"I'm a what?" he gasped. If it hadn't been for the proof and if Harry hadn’t known that the Dursleys had no sense of humor, he might have thought this was some cruel joke on the Dursley's part; yet somehow, Harry couldn’t help trusting him.
“A wix dear. We are wixen." He was answered, and he struggled to keep up with Lycoris's fast-paced stride, "Witch or wizard if you'd prefer. You'll find those that feel witch is a term for a female magic-user and wizard is for males, but any of the words are gender-neutral. Use whichever you like. I prefer wix."
"But how can I be a wix?" Harry asked, he stumbled over the unfamiliar word.
He followed his cousin down the street, not even glancing at the shops to determine where they were going.
"You have magic, darling." Lycoris stopped and Harry nearly ran into him. "I know you have questions, and I shall answer all of them in due time, but right now we are in far too public a place to get into such things. I need you to stick close to me dear and try not to draw too much attention to yourself. I am afraid it is a rather difficult conversation that should wait until we are home."
Harry was curious, he wanted to ask so many questions, but he also had only just left with the man. It was better if he did not scare his only relative besides the Dursley's off. He imagined if he annoyed the man too much he could always probably erase their memories and drop Harry back off with the Dursleys again.
"This is it,” said Lycoris, gesturing across the street, "the Leaky Cauldron."
It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub and if Lycoris hadn’t pointed it out, Harry wouldn’t have noticed it was there at all. The people hurrying by didn’t glance at it; their eyes slid from the book shop on one side, to the record shop on the other, as if they couldn’t see the Leaky Cauldron at all. In fact, Harry had the most peculiar feeling that only he and Lycoris could even see it. Before he could mention this, his new-found cousin had steered him inside. Harry was a tiny bit disappointed. It was very dark and shabby inside. There were no customers despite it being a pub, but it was only three o'clock in the afternoon. Frow behind the bar the bartender waved.
"Good evening." he greeted.
"Yes," Lycoris said, "Quite. Is Margrave in?"
He nodded and pointed to the stairs. "Room 17. Want me to bring you anything? Tea, something stronger?"
"Just tea, thank you." Lycoris dismissed as he steered Harry to the stairs.
Once they were out of earshot, Lycoris sighed, "I don't know what it is about that man always offering alcohol to people with children." At Harry's confused look he explained, "He offered the man taking me here for the first time a drink as well. He was a regular, mind, but Tom really ought to learn to read the situation better."
Harry stayed silent as they ascended the stairs to Room 17, contemplating everything he had heard. Magic, and secrets, and a family he'd never known. Everything was so overwhelming. They reached the room and Lycoris knocked on the door. It was opened by a tall elderly man with one ear.
"Cory!" He greeted, and Harry briefly looked around, wondering if they'd been joined by someone else.
Lycoris gave a disgruntled tsk. "I've told you to stop calling me that, Margrave." He said brusquely.
"This is Harry Potter." He introduced and Harry gave an awkward wave as the man stared openly at him.
"What the fuck did you do?" Margrave gasped, staring at Harry in horror
Lycoris laughed darkly, then said, "Well clearly I've stolen my cousin from his abusive relatives, as I warned you this meeting was about through our last missive."
The man gave an impression of a fish with how he opened and shut his mouth several times before rushing them inside with paranoid glances up and down the hall. He slammed the door behind them and whirled around, pointing accusingly.
"When you said you were planning to kidnap your cousin and illegally adopt him I didn't think you meant the bloody boy who lived." Margrave hissed in a hushed slightly hysterical tone, "Are you fucking insane, Reynard? Do you know the kind of heat this will get? What do you plan to do when the ministry starts digging around and realizes you've stolen the bloody vanquisher of the fucking dark lord?!"
Harry gaped at the two of them, confused and overwhelmed. Had he really defeated a dark lord? When? How? And what did Margrave mean by the boy who lived? What kind of ominous title was that? Of course, Harry did not voice any of his many questions out loud, knowing Lycoris planned to explain things when they got to wherever home was, so instead he just watched his cousin to check his reaction.
Lycoris calmly waved off his concerns, "I got the bitch to sign the adoption papers, and I've got her memories to prove they are unfit guardians. You have nothing to worry about. I'm didn't have to use much violence or coerce her into giving him away. She was more than happy to send him away, so just hold up on your side of the bargain and push his adoption through by the end of tonight without Dumbledore's knowledge."
That name again. Harry was really curious exactly who Albus Dumbledore was.
"Fine, don't get your knickers in a twist you great bloody twat." Margrave grumbled, "But I hope you know what you're doing, declaring war on Albus Dumbledore like this. The man has far too much power to be taken lightly."
Lycoris smiled a vicious smile and looked towards the window, where a magpie was singing on a tree branch. "I know exactly what I am doing Margrave." He looked over to Harry with intense eyes. "Everything is going exactly how I want it to."
For some strange reason, Harry got the feeling Lycoris Reynard was a lot more complicated than he let on, and he wondered, for the first of many times, if he'd made the right decision leaving the Dursley's after all.