Part 9
Time Passing...
Harry opened his eyes with a blink of surprise, finding himself surrounded by darkness. It should have been frightening, his view of the world stolen, but for some reason it wasn't. It seemed a gentle light radiated out from Harry himself, creating a small area he could see around him. It did not penetrate the darkness beyond, but it kept the shadows at bay.
"I'm dreaming." Harry realised. His voice echoed through the darkness and he whipped around at the sound of a soft laugh. Even before he squinted into the dark he knew immediately what awaited him.
Death was floating just at the edge of Harry's dome of light, their shadowy featureless form hovering only barely in sight. Regardless of the lighting, their childlike frame and ominously expressionless face were unmistakable.
"You've come far." Death said smoothly, drifting slowly closer into Harry's light with a tilted head. "I'm greatly amused by how you've adapted. You're quite a resilient little thing."
"You're ruining my life, I'll have you know." Harry said accusationally.
"I'm merely keeping it interesting." Death replied, floating, knees to their chest. "You're doing well, despite the obstacles. I approve."
"Well I don't." Harry snapped, "You're making me even more of a freak than I was in my first life.”
“Not so.” Death said smoothly, “I've merely shifted the power dynamics of this world, including yours.”
“Can't you shift it back?” Harry asked, “I just want to understand my magic again!”
“Your fear is your downfall.” Death told him, “If only you learned not to fear it, you would not have to fight it.”
“I'm not afraid of my magic.”
“What a pretty little lie.” Death laughed, a bell chiming in the empty dark. “You might not have been at first, but with every failed spell you're slowly sliding into dangerous territory. To fear magic is to get lost in it - to embrace magic is to wield it to its utmost potential. It's your choice as to which one you end up falling into.”
“That's ridiculous.” Harry muttered. “This life sucks.”
“Oh?”
“Yes!” Harry snapped, “I have no control over my magic, I've the face of a Potter without actually being one, I haven't even got a last name–"
"You have a last name." Death reminded him, "Though, it is interesting nobody's said anything to you about it. I was surprised by McGonagall's choice to hide it."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry narrowed his eyes, "Is it a bad name?"
"Not in and of itself." Death said cryptically, "But it does present a unique opportunity to a course of events that even I cannot foresee."
"So you're not all powerful then." Harry said, "Get fucked."
"Don't misunderstand, I have the power to change whatever I wish, whenever I wish." Death floated closer, making Harry bristle. "I only prefer to watch passively because it tends to be much more interesting for me, whereas controlling a person's every breath becomes tedious and slow. Don't forget that, Harry Potter."
"Are you going to tell me what my last name is, then?" Harry asked quietly, leaning away as the childlike shadow leaned closer.
"No." Death said, "But I imagine you'll know soon enough. They're considering their options as of now, but their silence is unlikely to last the year. They'll reveal it when the time is right."
"Who's ‘they’?"
"McGonagall, Dumbledore, Snape." Death listed, "They who know the uncertain truth." Death reached out and brushed shadowy fingers across his cheek. Harry shuddered; it was ice on his skin. "This world is much more interesting than your last; much less certain in its course. The turn of events will unfold very differently."
"That doesn't make any sense!" Harry reined in his anger, only barely. "You said you liked me, back when I died." An awkward phrase, but a truthful one.
"I do like you." Death laughed like a bell, pulling away again. "I have given you a great gift, do you not see it?"
"If you mean my fucked up magic and lack of a real family, then yeah, I've seen it." Harry scowled, "Why are you doing this? Haven't I been through enough?"
"I do this because I found you to be laudable and humble, someone indisputably worthy of my attention and acknowledgement. Worthy of the title; Master of Death." Death told him softly, almost fond. "That's why I've woven you a story in which you can find the meaning of true happiness. If you play this right, you will find your place in this world and the chosen family you've been searching for."
"What does that mean?" Frustration bled into his tone, but Death was already fading. "Wait! Do you mean the Potters? Come back!"
"Continue the course." Death's voice echoed in his ears as they melted into shadow, "You have much still yet to learn."
He was alone in the dark for only a moment before he fell, the floor collapsing underneath him with that same spinning feeling that threw his stomach up into his throat, making him scream as he fell into the abyss. It was the worst thing he'd ever felt, just as it had been the first time Death appeared before him——
Harry woke up with a gasp, blankets tangled around his legs, chest aching and throat burning. Pressing a hand to his chest, Harry took several deep breaths - it didn't help the fluttering panic pounding in his sternum. He was sweating, skin sticky as he tried to untangle himself from the sheets.
Throwing his legs over the edge, Harry slid out of bed and shoved open the curtains to stumble into the bathroom. He leaned on the nearest sink and desperately tried to breathe. His lungs screamed.
“Fuck.” Harry clutched the edge of the sink with a white-knuckled grip. “What am I supposed to do?”
The rest of Harry's morning didn't go much better. He showered and tried to hype himself up for the day, but he didn't really succeed. His new housemates gave him funny looks but knew better than to approach him, and so Harry spent the whole of breakfast confused and tired and more than a little scared.
Fear would be his downfall, huh? With that in mind Harry was even more afraid, and like a self-fulfilling prophecy he still managed to do abysmally using practical magics.
Suffering through Transfiguration was one of the worst things, though, which Harry probably should've anticipated considering how well he knew Minerva McGonagall in his previous life, but was probably why her distrustful stare hurt more than he thought it would.
Safe to say, Harry's first Transfiguration class was an absolute disaster.
For starters, McGonagall stared at him far too often to be normal. It was less of an 'I'm getting used to a new student' kind of staring and more of an 'I've gotta watch this kid' kinda thing, which Harry really didn't appreciate. It probably also contributed to why he didn't do very well in his first class with her. It seemed frustration and anxiety weren't so good for his magic.
"Today we will begin using Vanishing Spells." McGonagall had said, "These are easier than Conjuring Spells, which you will not attempt until you reach my N.E.W.T. level class, but they are still among the most difficult magics you will be tested on in your O.W.L. exams, of which I expect each and every one of you to do well on."
Harry remembered the unit on Vanishing spells, thus he was not surprised when McGonagall passed out handfuls of snails to her students and let them just have at it. It had taken Harry weeks to be able to change the snail even a little the first time around, which paved the way for how he'd managed it to pass the Transfiguration O.W.L. exam with an EE. Now, of course, it was different.
"Why haven't you tried yet?" Malfoy leaned over to ask, nodding to where Harry's wand was sitting unused on the desk halfway through the lesson.
"... I don't want to mess up." Eh, sort of the truth. It was a bit more complicated than that, what with Death sabotaging him at every turn, but he didn't say so.
"Well you could fail, that's always a possibility." Malfoy shrugged, "But there's zero chance of success as well if you don't give it a shot at all, yeah?"
"I suppose." Harry acknowledged reluctantly, "I'm just not used to my magic, that's all. I don't want to screw it up." He wasn't used to his new magic, anyway.
"Just give it a go." Malfoy coaxed with a slight grin, "Worst case scenario? Nothing happens."
"Worst case scenario I blow up the classroom." Harry muttered, but he took a deep breath and picked up his wand with care. Pointing his wand at a snail, Harry imagined it disappearing. Vanishing. No longer existing. "Okay. Evanesco." The following reaction wasn't the worst case scenario, but it was pretty damn close.
The snail no longer existed, sure, but that was solely because it exploded into a bajillion pieces with each fragment disintegrating completely a moment after. The snail was gone, that was for sure, but not in the way it was meant to disappear. Draco's astonishment only made Harry feel worse.
"Close, but not quite." McGonagall placed another snail on his desk as she walked by, watching him with a searching look as she did. "Put less into it next time. Not everything can be solved with raw power."
"Understood, Professor." Harry set his wand back down and didn't touch it for the rest of class.
"You didn't blow up the classroom." Malfoy said gently, "Really, it's not so bad!" Harry just shook his head miserably.
From then on it was a bit of a rinse-repeat cycle as the days went by.
Potions with Slughorn was easy, Harry scoring fairly high most of the time; Defense with Snape was by far Harry's favourite class, especially considering it was mostly bookwork; Charms went completely ignored, much to Flitwick's disappointment; Transfiguration was dead end, earning him several death-stares from McGonagall; Herbology and History and Astronomy were smooth sailing, even though Harry still found them a bit boring; and Hadrian tried and failed every day to console Harry when things went wrong.
The new school year was starting to rank pretty high in Harry's list of ‘worst years at Hogwarts’ despite the fact that without Voldemort it should've been his easiest, but he never got what he wanted so why was he surprised?
Life started to become… sorta dull. Time passed like a stream over rock, slowly chipping away at Harry even though it meant well. Hogwarts was slowly smothering him, which was unimaginably strange and backwards compared to his first life. Even knowing that, Harry couldn't help how the world became muffled and he cared less and less about the problems he was facing or the oddities that came with his new life and magic. It all rushed by him meaninglessly.
Harry only noticed how far he'd buried himself in numb despair when the world woke him up again.
“Today we're changing things up, branching out into something new.” Snape announced to the class one day, “Put your books away and push your desks to the walls, we'll be learning something special today.”
“Huh?” Harry blinked, slowly putting his book away and standing. They never did practical magic in Defense.
“I wonder what we'll be doing.” Hadrian commented, standing by his side. “This is by far the longest Severus has waited to start the practical stuff. I mean, two whole months of theory before we get to the fun stuff?”
“Do you know what we'll be learning?” Malfoy nudged Nott.
“Not a clue.” Nott shrugged. It was nice to know Harry wasn't the only one baffled by the sudden change.
Snape stood at the front of the now clear classroom, eyes scanning them carefully before clearing his throat for their attention.
“Today I'd like to focus on a subsection of Magic that is often overlooked.” Snape said, “Can anyone tell me what Emotional Magic is? Yes, Miss Li.”
“Emotional Magic is a branch of practical magics fueled by extreme quantities of personal feelings, either positive or negative.” Su Li said, “The majority of spells in this branch are Restricted.”
“Correct.” Snape nodded, “Three points to Ravenclaw. Now, can anyone tell me what spells this might include?”
“The Cruciatus Curse.” Zabini said once called on.
“The Patronus Charm.” Snape nodded to Oliver.
“Fiendfyre.” Parkinson added when prompted.
“That's just to name a few.” Snape said, waving off the still raised hands. “The point of this exercise is to demonstrate the level of difficulty involved with emotion-fueled magics. Today we will be practising one such spell, one of the few that isn't Restricted. The Patronus Charm.” Harry's eyes widened in surprise.
Snape kept on giving instructions, telling them all about the power necessary to cast it and the intricacies of which memories would work and which wouldn't, but Harry barely heard him. He'd used the Patronus Charm so many times it would be as easy as breathing to cast it. Harry knew that. So why was he so afraid?
Harry already learned it from Lupin - the mentor who'd changed Harry's life by being the first person to tell him about his parents. Before then Harry had only known them by their great deeds, but Lupin, in their talks held when Harry couldn't travel to Hogsmeade with his friends, told him about the Lily and James he'd known all his life. Harry would always be grateful for what he learned for Lupin, both magical and nonmagical. Harry had enough memory of the man alone to fuel a hundred Patronuses.
The number of times Harry was saved by the Patronus Charm… he couldn't even count. Dementors were practically a staple in his previous life, showing up way too often, but after third year he was always prepared. He'd mastered the Patronus Charm before he was fourteen and he was proud of it. Every person he told was impressed, and even though pride wasn't something he often felt it definitely applied to his capabilities in Defense.
So why was he hesitating?
“This will be an individually graded exercise, but feel free to partner up.” Snape told them when the questions were answered and the instructions given, “By the end of class I want every one of you to have produced at least a small Patronus shield, that's what you'll be graded on. Don't worry about forcing a corporeal representation, that's much more advanced. You may begin.”
“You could give it a try, you know.” Hadrian nudged him. Harry said nothing.
“This is hard.” Malfoy complained, muttering the spell over and over and barely producing the faintest of sparks.
“Focus.” Nott murmured to himself, a small shield of light emanating from the top of his wand. “Focus.”
Around the classroom Ravenclaws and Slytherins chatted to their friends and tried to cast, even the most confident of them struggling. It seemed nobody could create a corporeal Patronus, which made sense considering their age and lack of training. Harry remembered seeing similar results when he first started training his friends in the DA. They could do it, sometimes, but it took months for them to get anywhere near his level. Even Hermione.
Harry looked down at the beautiful, pale, elder and thestral core wand, deep in thought.
His Patronus was a piece of him nobody could erase - he'd put in the work and earned the ability to cast it. It took weeks before he learned to properly control it, and it wasn't until he, Hermione and Sirius were all in mortal danger that he finally managed one of any real strength, but he did it. He did, nobody else. And dammit, Death was not taking that away from him. This was his line in the sand.
So Harry closed his eyes and focused. The classroom around him meant nothing.
“Expecto Patronum.”
When he opened his eyes he was met with silver, the pure representation of his happiest moments standing before him in the shape of a stag - his father's animagus form. Harry laughed at the sight of it.
He thought of Hermione, her brilliance and her tears, so emotional and so so brave; He thought of Ron, his strategies and his courage, smart and sharp in a way he only let a select few truly see; He thought of Ginny and Luna and Neville and the DA and everyone who'd supported him; He pictured Sirius and Lupin, his Sirius and Lupin, the ones who'd loved him as family before they even knew him.
As he looked at Prongs, reaching out to stroke the glowing figure, he heard their laughter, saw their smiles and felt their love for him. All wrapped in glowing silver, a luminous white that filled his vision.
Prongs lunged around the room then, galloping across the walls and showering the class in silver streaks of magic, his joy mirrored for all to see. Then Prongs ended up back at his side, brushing his muzzle across his forehead like a reminder that his past wasn't as gone as he thought, then dissolved into a sheen and left silver hanging in the air as Harry's spell faded.
It was then that he refocused and paused when he saw literally everyone was staring at him with incredulousness or awe, even Snape. Everyone knew Harry was absolutely dogshit at magic, avoiding it at all cost, and suddenly they could see his potential behind all that.
It was then that Harry understood.
“Your fear will be your downfall.”
“Harry, that was amazing!” Hadrian was the first to speak, rushing forward with a beaming smile. “Wow, you did that first try!”
“How did you do that?” Malfoy demanded.
“You've got to be fucking kidding me–”
“Who knew that guy could do magic? Not me.”
“Did you see that!? Wow…”
Harry was then overwhelmed with the mass of voices, attention thrown at him in a way he was no longer used to. He didn't mean to show off - though he realised that's exactly what he'd done just then.
“Class.” Snape's voice cut through the chatter, effectively silencing the room. “We still have ten minutes of this period, use your time wisely. Remember, your score in class today stems from your progress made with the Patronus Charm. Get back to work.” Even as he said it, he was staring at Harry with an expression Harry didn't understand.
Thankfully the class did refocus and leave him alone, and Harry was allowed space to withdraw from their gazes to the corner of the classroom. Hadrian, of course, followed him.
“I told you you could do it.” Hadrian said softly, still smiling. “You're powerful, Harry, and that's not a bad thing.”
“It's kind of a bad thing.” Harry'd thus far only been able to blow shit up. “This doesn't prove I'm suddenly good at magic.”
“You've always been good at magic.” Hadrian rolled his eyes, “That's kind of your problem. You have so much power, so much potential, you just don't know how to control it. What's holding you back is your inexperience, that's all.”
“I guess.” Harry fidgeted with his wand.
“Hey, I promise it'll get easier.” Hadrian said, “Trust me, okay? I may be your little brother but I do give good advice, you know.”
“I know.” It never failed to bring a smile to his face when Hadrian said that. “And… thanks. For not giving up on me.”
“You're welcome.” Hadrian huffed, “But in future, don't bother thanking me. I don't need to be thanked for having your back, that's what family is for. And you're part of my family now.”
“Okay.” Harry said with a laugh, “I'll keep that in mind.”
It wasn't perfect, and the weeks he spent numb and down weren't totally behind him, but maybe this was the first step. Maybe it would be okay.