Void-Touched 3
Harry sat quietly in his chair after hearing Professor McGonagall's depiction of events leading to his birth, considering her words. "So, because this Voldemort was defeated, they think I did something when I was a baby in nappies? And not my mother and father, a witch and a wizard talented enough to face down Voldemort multiple times and survive?" He paused. "Wizards and witches aren't too bright, are they?"
McGonagall's lips twitched, "Rather a blunt way to phrase things." She shook her head slowly, "Sometimes accurate, I'm sad to say. I think it was more that a lot of people didn't want to acknowledge that your mother may have had a hand in it. She was a muggle-born."
"Oh yes, you mentioned that. Magical people born from non-magical parents?" Harry frowned, considering, "That makes sense then. If there was a war, a lot of people must believe that twaddle. Better to pin it on the baby than a muggle-born."
"Too many do, yes, even among those who didn't support Voldemort," McGonagall said with a sigh.
"Well," Harry said after a moment's thought. "Screw them, then," he decided with a shrug. "So, how did my parents dying lead to me being at my aunt's? You mentioned I had family who were wizards and witches?"
"Yes, your grandmother Euphemia was a Diggory before marrying your grandfather, Fleamont."
Harry interrupted her, voice incredulous, "Euphemia I can see, but Fleamont? Seriously?"
The look McGonagall gave him was severe, before she chuckled, "Yes. Your grandfather wasn't fond of his name; he usually went by 'Monty'. He used to joke that's why he focused so much on duelling in his youth. It's hard to make fun of a man who can call for an honour duel and defeat you in less than five seconds. He was one of the few who could stand up to Voldemort. He actually drove him away once; it's too bad that he and Effie caught dragon pox," the woman said sadly.
"Wow. My grandfather sounds like he was hard as nails, and my mum and dad not far behind him," Harry said with a smile. "I like that better than 'drunks dying in a car accident," he added with a wrinkled nose.
"That still makes me want to go back there and hex them," McGonagall stated with a scowl. "Anyway, once they were dead, Dumbledore looked for a will and didn't find one. He insisted that your mother's sister was the best place for you. I disagreed but without a will, they were the closest relative to place you. Muggle-wise, anyway. I know Amos was looking for you at one point." For a brief moment, McGonagall's face was sad, "I told Dumbledore that they didn't look like a good family for you, but he said he'd watch out for you and kept insisting you were well cared for and happy."
"Amos?"
"Amos Diggory," McGonagall said. "His son would be your second cousin. He'd be your first cousin, once removed."
"Genealogy is strange sometimes," Harry observed. "So basically Dumbledore didn't find a will or said he didn't and insisted I live with Petunia and Vernon. And this Amos fellow wanted me, but was blocked by Dumbledore?"
McGonagall considered, "I'm not sure I'm comfortable saying he was blocked exactly, but I know he wanted to take care of you and Dumbledore was against it. I don't know what was decided upon or how." She added, "And what do you mean 'said he didn't'?"
"Well, look at how it appears to me," Harry said after taking a moment to think. "Everything seems to point to him really wanting me to stay with Petunia and Vernon. If a will said otherwise, would he ignore it?" Harry asked with a shrug.
"I... would like to say no, but whenever I asked he told me you were cared for and loved and that's obviously not true," McGonagall said with a frown.
Harry shrugged at her, "The question is why he was so insistent I stay with the Dursleys? Was he trying to protect me in a way? Or was there some other goal?" He grinned suddenly, "I feel like a detective in a novel. This would be fun if it weren't about me, you know?"
He was given another stern look by McGonagall, before she admitted, "I don't really like the idea, but I have to admit it's possible." She rubbed her brow, "This simply makes it more important that you and Amos get together. He's high up in the Ministry as the deputy head of the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."
"And if he's that important he has connections in case someone tries something," Harry said after a moment. "I see. Well, hopefully, your friend can get things moving."
"If I know Amelia - Madame Bones to you - she's already spoken to your Aunt and is getting the paperwork together," McGongall said with a snort. "She's nothing if not efficient, and doesn't let up for anything."
"Sounds like my kind of person," Harry said with a nod. "Good."
"Why don't I show you to the guest room?" McGonagall suggested. "I do need to return to the castle at some point to handle preparations for the school year, I'm afraid."
"All right," Harry agreed and thus followed McGonagall up the steps to his room.
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Harry spent much of the time that evening unpacking his new things into his trunk and changing his clothing. Later that evening, there was a knock at Harry's door. He was currently reading from a book on various children's tales; glancing up, he called, "Come in?"
Opening the door, McGonagall peeked her head in, looking approving of his new clothes. "Amelia's back, and wanted to speak to you."
"Of course," Harry said, closing his book and setting it on the trunk beside the bed. Following the woman down the steps, he inclined his head towards Amelia when he entered the sitting room, "Madam Bones."
"Mr Potter," greeted the redhead. "I visited your prior home and spoke to your Aunt. She'd already cleaned out the closet 'room' but forensic spells picked up your presence. She was most forthcoming from that point." Amelia did not look happy. "Abominable woman. She has agreed to not contest your fostering and has signed papers to that effect. I haven't pressed charges yet; I wanted to discuss that with you first."
"That's a relief. That she signed, I mean," Harry said with a smile. Making a face, he added, "While I'd like to see them punished, I really don't want to become a topic of gossip due to how they treated me. Worse comes to worst, I can do something petty when I'm an adult." He shrugged.
"I thought that might be the case," Amelia said with a sigh. "While I'm sure we could get the charges to stick, child abuse cases like this are difficult. We'd have to have a full trial, and that would lead to public scrutiny as you've said." She paused, "And I will ignore the latter statement."
"I wasn't talking about doing anything illegal." Mostly, he thought to himself. Harry shrugged, "So, what now?"
"With them signing away guardianship," Amelia began, "I talked to Amos. He only works two floors up, after all." She chuckled, "He was most interested actually. He's wanted to take care of you for quite some time."
"I'm glad to hear that." Harry's voice was cautious. "All right. So, er, what now?" Harry asked again, suddenly a little uncomfortable. "I mean, do I meet him here, or do I go to his place, or...?"
"Amos suggested you come by his house this evening. You can meet him, his wife, and his son at that time," Amelia said, "And then you can decide if you wish to stay or not."
Harry took a deep breath, "All right. I can do that." He was suddenly nervous. He could handle the Dursleys, but people who said they actually wanted him around? That was a new thing for him.
"It'll be fine, Harry," McGonagall assured him, accurately reading his expression. "He's been looking for you for years."
"She's right. He was really excited when I talked to him. He wanted to sign the papers immediately but I suggested you and he meet first," Amelia added.
Nodding, Harry got to his feet, "I'll go put my book away and get my trunk," he said. Heading upstairs, he did just that, sliding the shrunken chest into his pocket. Returning, he added, "So, how are we going there? This floo thing? Or that strange teleportation?"
"Apparition, not teleportation. And we'll be taking the floo," McGonagall answered. She glanced at Amelia, "When did he say we should arrive?"
"He already left work," Amelia told her, "He said we could come over any time. The Floo address is Diggory Cottage."
McGonagall quickly took some floo powder and announced, "Diggory Cottage!" Stepping through the fire, she disappeared.
After a moment, Harry stepped up and repeated the gesture, stepping through the flames. He staggered on the other end, but managed to not fall over this time, gaze slowly appraising the room.
Sitting on an ornate couch was a ruddy-skinned man with brown hair. Beside him was an attractive older woman with pale blonde hair and sitting in a nearby chair was someone a few years older than Harry with brown hair a little darker than the older man.
"Hello?" Harry offered, brushing soot off his robes nervously. Behind him, Madam Bones emerged from the floo as well.
"Harry!" said the older man, "I'm Amos. This is my wife Clarissa and my son Cedric." As he introduced them he got to his feet, "Oh, I can see some of Aunt Effie in you." He moved towards Harry, reaching out as if to hug him only to blink as Harry stiffened up.
"It's nice to meet you, sir. I'm Harry," the young man said with a slight smile, trying to be polite and smooth over the uncomfortable moment.
Placing a hand on Harry's shoulder briefly, Madam Bones said to Amos, "Perhaps we should sit and talk?"
"Please, please," Amos said, gesturing towards another couch, upon which Harry and Amelia sat. As there wasn't much room on the other couch, McGonagall gestured with a wand, conjuring a chair for herself and sat down.
"I've been looking for you for years, Harry!" Amos said to him. "I kept asking Dumbledore, but he insisted you were being taken care of by family. It rather annoyed me as he wouldn't tell me who you were placed with and I wanted to at least see you."
Harry cleared his throat, "I was living with my aunt, my mum's sister," he explained.
Amos frowned, "Well, she is a closer relative, but isn't she a muggle?" He added, "Not that there's anything wrong with muggles," He assured him, "But she wouldn't know what to tell you about the magical world."
"She's not a witch, no," Harry acknowledged. He glanced at Amelia, before saying, "I'm, well, pretty clueless about the magical world right now. I picked up some books, though. I have a lot of reading to do before school starts."
"Well, that's all right. Assuming you stay here, I and Clarissa can help you out easily enough. And my Cedric, of course," Amos said proudly, looking at his son. "He's right smart."
"I'd be glad to," Cedric said to him, offering a smile. "Most of the stuff you read in books will be fine, but there are some things that they gloss over in the books. I know because I was helping a muggle-born last year."
"Such as?" Harry asked, cautiously.
"Oh, stuff about wizarding daily life and other things. My folks don't make a big deal out of it, but they celebrate Yule, not Christmas. Each family's Yule rituals are different. The books also don't mention wizarding fiction, of which there's a lot. Stuff like that," Cedric said with a shrug. "Things the writer is so used to that they don't mention them."
"I think I'd like learning about that," Harry said after a moment.
"Good, good," Amos said, beaming. "Tell me about yourself, Harry. What do you like doing? Are you into sports? Have you heard about quidditch yet? My Cedric is on the house team..."
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After watching Harry talk to the Diggorys for a time, Amelia cleared her throat, "I hate to cut this short, but this is important. So, Harry, what do you think? Would you like to stay here?"
Harry considered, and shrugged, "I think I'd like to try. I'd prefer if I could stay a few days before making a final decision." He glanced at the Diggorys, "No offence, sir, ma'am. However, I get the feeling that's a risk with others wanting to swoop into claim guardianship." He chuckled softly, "So I'll say sure. It certainly can't be worse than where I was."
"Good! And remember, like I said call me Amos, or Uncle Amos." Beaming, Amos got to his feet. This time, Harry didn't go rigid when the man hugged him. "Well then, what do I have to sign?" Amos asked Amelia.
"These," Amelia said as she pulled a sheaf of papers from a folder at her side, "Sign here and here. I will sign as well and Minerva will witness," she explained as she produced a quill from the folder.
After the papers were signed, Clarissa rose to her feet and offered a smile, "Why don't we decide your room, Harry?" As she spoke, she turned to head up the stairs with Harry following and commented as they passed doors, "That's Cedric's room. This is my sewing room. We have a guest room here that you can take over or the one in the attic that we renovated. Which would you prefer? The attic room's bigger and more private, but the one here is by the bathroom..."
"I think the attic would work well for me if you're willing to offer it, ma'am," Harry said to her. She turned and smiled at him and gestured for him to precede her. They went up a narrow set of stairs and opened the door to the attic. Harry was astounded. It was huge, at least double the size of Petunia and Vernon's bedroom. The floor was polished hardwood and the ceiling a slope: about seven feet near the doorway and going up to fifteen or so feet in the centre of the room. There wasn't much furniture present, simply a bed, end table, and a small wardrobe.
"We will have to get more furniture of course. It works fine as a backup guest room, but you'll need a nice rug, maybe a few bookcases..." said Clarissa as she stood beside him. "We'll do that tomorrow. Also, pick you up a few more clothes and things." She paused and said dryly, "Probably a broom too. Amos is crazy for the sport, and he'll want to be sure you have one."
"Oh, you don't have to do that, ma'am," Harry told her only to have her shake her head at him.
"Don't have to, no. Want to, yes. You're family, Harry. We're glad to do so." Clarissa's voice was firm, and when she saw his eyes glisten, she slipped an arm around his shoulders. "You're welcome here. I promise."
Harry took a deep breath, nodding. "All right," he agreed. He let her hold him for a moment before he gently stepped away and bent down to put his trunk down by the bed, touching the latch to enlarge it. "Should I come downstairs?"
"If you want to. We're going to be having dinner in an hour; I'd like you to join us then. But if you want to stay up here and read until then, that's fine," Clarissa answered.
Harry considered and nodded, "I think I'd like that, ma'am. I was reading before Professor McGonagall brought me here, I'd like to finish that before dinner."
"All right," Clarissa said. "And please, don't call me ma'am. Clarissa or Aunt Clarissa is fine."
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As the days passed and September loomed, life went on. As Clarissa predicted, when they took Harry to Diagon Alley to purchase more furniture for his room, Amos insisted on buying him a Cleansweep Seven broom. Apparently, it was one of the best all-around brooms, even if not as fast as a Nimbus or manoeuvrable as a Comet. All Harry knew was that he enjoyed flying it and was planning on taking it to Hogwarts with him.
Harry soon became more comfortable with his new family, though he still felt cautious around them. He'd long ago learned that people could turn on you at a moment's notice. He tried to not let it show, however, as he knew that would hurt and upset them.
One night, however, he had another strange dream.
He found himself standing in front of a huge castle floating in the dark grey void. Or at least, part of a castle as most of it was missing. He saw the Outsider come into being as shadows flowed together. "Good evening, Harry." The black-eyed man offered a nod. "I take it things are somewhat better for you?"
"Uh, you could say that." Harry said with a shrug, "What brings you here?" He was acting unconcerned, though he was on edge. He knew how to handle people. Strange eldritch beings who may or may not be gods was something else.
"I live here, Harry," the Outsider said with a barely noticeable smirk. "You mean why are you here, right?" He chuckled, the sound oddly monotone. "I saw that you had mastered the power I gave you thus far, and even discovered a new one." He wandered down the cobblestone path, looking up at the school, "I thought to celebrate your attending Hogwarts, I'd help you learn another."
"That's Hogwarts?" Harry asked.
"Part of it," the Outsider answered. "Now. I want you to imagine the power that is inside you enveloping you. Imagine the power I've given you becoming a second skin." Harry frowned slightly but did as ordered. It was harder than it sounded, it felt like the power kept slipping out of his mental fingers. Eventually, he felt the power begin to flow. "Good," the Outsider said. "Keep it steady."
Soon, Harry looked down at himself and saw that he was covered with oddly moving shadows. "What is this?"
"You will find," the Outsider said, "That no one will be able to sense you in this state. Not through any means. There is one you will soon meet who could, though even he would find it difficult."
"Wait. So I'm invisible?" Harry asked. "That is so cool." A sudden frown. "Listen. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but why are you doing this? Giving me these abilities, helping me?"
The figure shook his head, "Suspicious, aren't you?" The Outsider leaned back, lounging against the wall of the castle, "Understandable, considering your past. Let us say that helping you makes things interesting for me. I grow rather bored here."
"Interesting?" Harry's brow rose, "So I'm basically like a show on the telly for you?"
The Outsider's lips quirked into something that may have been a smile, or a grimace, "Something like that."
"Well, let's hope I keep making things interesting then," Harry said with a snort.
He felt his body start to fade as the area around him grew dark. He heard the Outsider's voice, "I'm sure you will. You will be facing many dangers at Hogwarts. Be prepared."
With that, Harry sat up in bed, waking up.