Lost and Found
Lost and Found:
For centuries, he had wandered the earth. He did not know how many centuries. But considering how much the human race had developed since he had begun his wanderings, he doubted it had only been a few decades.
Still, it was hard for him to tell how long it had been since he had begun his self imposed exile. When you were immortal, the years just tended to blend together.
He stayed on the fringes of society at first. Being around others was just too hard.
Because he knew he shouldn't have been there.
He was supposed to be dead. All the old prophecies said so. During the great battle, the twilight of the gods, he was meant to die. He should not be alive.
And yet he was. Why?
Because his wife, his beautiful, strong, loyal wife, had saved him.
She had thrown herself between him and the one who he was supposed to kill, and who was supposed to kill him.
Upon seeing her body in his arms, the light leave her eyes, he had been possessed by an uncontrollable rage. Next he knew, the one who had killed his wife was dead, and yet he still lived.
He was not meant to live. He was supposed to die. He knew that if what remained of the gods discovered his survival, he would surely be killed. And he could not let that happen. He could not let her sacrifice go to waist.
The death of his wife had changed him. He knew now that he had become so wrapped up in his own self pity, his desire for revenge, his hatred of the gods, that he had been blind to what he had had. He was hated by all, except for her. No matter what he did, she always stood by him.
Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the cave again. Centuries upon centuries of bondage. Bound by chains forged from his own son. A son whom had also been hers.
It had been his fault their son had been savagely murdered, and yet she was still not angry at him. She stood by him in that cave. She held a bowl over his head, so that he may have some relief from that blasted snake.
He would often ask her why, but she would always give the same answer.
"Because, I love you, regardless of your floors." She would say. "You may have committed horrible acts, but they are no more horrible than what the gods have done."
He had not seen what he truly had, until he lost her.
She had not been the only loss.
Unlike him, the rest of his children had not been saved from their horrible fates. He was only thankful that they had been able to kill the gods they were foretold to kill. At least their deaths were not completely pointless.
He found it ironic. The old fool had tried so hard to prevent his fate, fearing what was foretold. All the gods had.
Except for him. He had known of his fate, and had excepted it. He did not try to prevent the future. Instead, he lived in the moment, embracing what he could not control.
And yet, all who had feared their destinies had died as they had been foretold, while he, who had accepted his fate, was the only one who's destiny had been changed.
It was a bittersweet victory, as he was hopelessly alone. His wife, dead. Most of his children, dead.
All that remained of his brood were one of his five sons and his daughter. They were now together in his daughter's realm.
He was thankful for this. At least part of his family was finally together.
His children often asked for him to join them. But no, he could not. It was too much of a risk. He feared that, if he revealed himself, then what remained of the gods would attempt to attack his daughter's realm. While his daughter was powerful, her forces had been significantly weakened after the battle.
And he would not risk losing what remained of his family.
It was nearing winter now. The days were becoming shorter, and the temperature was becoming colder. For some reason, he was drawn to a random street in the middle of the suburbs. He did not know why. All these houses looked almost identical, clean, neat, organised. Dreadfully boring. Why anyone would want to live here was beyond him.
In any case, for some reason, he was drawn to this boring street. He kept to the shadows, feeling as if there was someone close. Someone who he did not want to be spotted by.
He took on the form of a fly, and waited for something to happen.
It did not take long. There was a loud crack at the end of the street. He looked to see an old man with a very bizarre fashion sense. He watched as this man took out a small object, and clicked it. One by one, the streetlights went dark. It was only thanks to his supernatural eyesight that he was able to see what the man was up to.
He watched as the man walked to one of the houses, and began talking to a cat. The cat, however, was soon revealed not to be an ordinary feline.
She soon turned into a stern looking middle-aged woman. They were obviously part of the magical community of this land. While he had not paid much attention as of late to the happenings of the wizards of this country, he did know they had had some trouble with a supposedly powerful, dark wizard.
But now, they were discussing the defeat of this wizard. And by whom?
A child. A baby girl.
He was intrigued. How powerful could this child be exactly, to have defeated a fully grown wizard? And where was this girl?
His second question was soon answered, as a loud roaring came from above, and then a giant of a man came down on a flying motorcycle. In one massive hand, he held a bundle.
After a few more minutes, and a lot more tears from the giant, the three left, and he was alone.
Well, except for the child.
He turned into his regular, male human form, and approached the house. He was aghast that they would just leave such a fragile little thing on a cold doorstep, in the middle of the night, when winter was drawing ever closer.
Despite his reputation, he despised those whom harmed children. He might have been capable of many things, but he would never harm a child.
Not like the gods.
He approached the small bundle and knelt down. The child was asleep. She was small, pale, and dark haired.
Wait. He remembered that hair. He remembered that face. That nose, that structure, those lips.
Though she was now in the form of an infant, he still recognised them.
It was her.
The one he thought he had lost so long ago.
Oh, how fate was cruel. To find her, only to know he would have to wait for her to become older.
If only he had met her when she was a woman grown, and not when she was a child.
He remembered what the old man and the cat woman had discussed. The woman seemed to think that the girl would not be treated well here.
And this would never do. He would have to take her, and find her a suitable home where she would be safe. Safe until he was able to come to her.
He knelt down and was about to take her into his arms, when he was interrupted by a voice he had not heard outside of his dreams in centuries.
"I would not do that."
He turned to see his daughter standing not five feet from him, her face only just visible under the hood of her cloak.
"What are you here for?" He asked. "It could be dangerous for the two of us to be in the same location. The gods may sense our presence."
"It does not matter." His daughter replied. "I have come here to stop you from what you were about to do Father."
He frowned.
"I am trying to protect her." He said, gesturing towards the child. "Do you know who she is?"
His daughter cocked her head.
"Yes, I recognise her soul." She said.
"Then you know why I must take her." He continued. "From what I have heard, she will not be treated right here."
His daughter shook her head.
"No, she will not." She began. "However, you cannot take her."
"And why not?" He asked, becoming impatient.
His daughter sighed.
"Look at her." She said. "Look at the magic surrounding her."
He did so. There were very powerful enchantments surrounding her, binding her, cloaking her.
"What is this?" He asked.
His daughter stared at the girl sadly.
"Her mother sacrificed her own life to save her." She began. "Such ancient, powerful magic, fueled by a force as powerful as love, it creates some very powerful protections."
His daughter stared straight into his eyes.
"There are many who would seek to see her dead, both mortal and immortal." She said. "Unfortunately, the only way for her to be truly safe for now, is if she stays here. The only place where her mother's blood still resides."
He frowned.
"Are you telling me that I should just leave her here daughter?" He demanded.
His daughter shook her head.
"No, not at all." She replied. "I can see she will not have a good childhood. Though she will be protected against threats from without, she will have no protection against the threats from within."
"Then explain what good these wards are?" He demanded.
"Patience Father." His daughter replied. "I said you could not take her. I said nothing of you not protecting her from afar."
He pondered this for a minute.
"Will I be able to enter the house?" He asked.
His daughter shook her head.
"No, not until you are invited. The wards prevent any unwelcome supernatural from entering, even someone as powerful as you."
His frowned deepened.
"Then how do you propose I go about being invited?"
His daughter smirked.
"I am sure you will find a way."
She walked closer to the girl and knelt, brushing aside the dark fringe.
He could feel his entire body freeze as he saw the scar on the babe's forehead.
At such an early age, she had already been marked. And by the symbol of that overgrown, brain-dead, musclebound oaf.
"Who...?" He managed through gritted teeth.
His daughter shook her head.
"By the dark wizard whom killed her parents in this life. The one who wished to kill her."
He narrowed his eyes.
"Where is this fool?" He asked in a chillingly calm tone.
"He is little more than a wraith at this point." His daughter replied, placing a hand on the girl's forehead.
"What are you doing?" He asked.
"Removing a parasite." His daughter replied.
She lifted her hand from the girl's forehead, and a dark, corrupt mist followed. She held the dark mist in her hand and looked at it in disgust.
"What is that?" He asked, his stomach turning in disgust. "And why was it in her forehead?"
His daughter glared at the mist.
"It is the fragment of a corrupt soul." She said. "The monster whom tried to kill her was desperate for immortality. So desperate, that he split his own soul."
He felt as if he was going to be sick.
"Again I ask, where, is, he?"
His daughter closed her eyes and sighed.
"I do not know." She began. "But I hope to use this fragment to find him, and the rest of his torn soul."
His daughter stood.
"I must leave now." She said. "Be careful Father."
He nodded.
"I will." He replied. "Give your brother my regards."
She smiled.
"I will." She replied. "Father, you must come and see us some time."
He shook her head.
"No, not yet."
She smirked.
"You do realise that, when she does remember her past with you, she will insist upon visiting us."
He laughed dryly.
"Yes, if she ever forgives me."
His daughter smiled sadly and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"She will forgive you, I know it." She said. "Father, she always loved you, no matter what you did."
She looked down, and he could have sworn he saw tears in her eyes.
"She was kind enough to even accept my brothers and I. If she is even half as kind, and as loyal, as she had been in her previous life, then you have nothing to be concerned for."
He wrapped an arm around his daughter.
"Thank you." He said gently. "It was truly good to see you again."
His daughter nodded.
"We both miss you deeply." She said quietly.
He smiled softly, an expression that was reserved for his family alone.
"How about this, once she regains her memories, we have a little holiday in this realm, just the four of us."
His daughter smiled.
"And who knows? By the end of it, it may be the five of us."
He chuckled.
"We will just have to wait and see." He said. "Now, you must go."
His daughter nodded.
"Good luck Father." She said, soon vanishing into the shadows.
He sighed and turned back to the infant on the doorstep. He could not do much at the moment, but he at least wished to do something.
He knelt down. As the god of fire, he had some control over heat. He manipulated the temperature of the doorstep, making it warmer. Soon, it was at an appropriate temperature for a small child. At least she would not be getting sick from the cold.
He stood.
"I am sorry I could not do more." He began softly. "But I will do the best I can to protect you. I will stand my vigil, as you once stood yours."
He stared at the child for a few more minutes, before deciding it was time to leave. At least for now, he would leave.
For years, he watched the house in various forms. He saw the three occupants of the house.
A giant troll like man, who believe he was better than everyone. As arrogant as the gods, it seemed.
Then, there was a horse-faced woman with an extremely long neck. She just loved to gossip to the other women on the street. Her high voice was quite annoying.
And then, there was the little... Thing, that was always screaming for sweets. He did not know if it was meant to be a child, as it resembled more of a small pig than anything else. It was a spoilt brat, and it did not seem that his parents did much to discipline him.
But throughout these years, he never once saw the girl. Not once did she leave the house. He tried to look for her through the windows, but he saw nothing.
Where had they put her?
He yearned to enter the house and look for her, but he couldn't. Not with those wards.
So he waited.
And, eventually, his patience paid off.
When he estimated she was around five, the horse-woman and the little pig left the house for the car. They were followed by a very small child, caring two bags, one looking like it was about to fall apart, the other as if it were brand new.
He had to hold back his anger as the horse barked orders at the girl as if the child were a thrall. The poor girl put the bags into the car and scurried in, shoved up against the door by the size of the boy and the larger, newer bag.
He followed the car until they reached a strange building full of little children of varying ages. He supposed this was what the mortals called "a school". A place for learning.
He caught the tale end of a threat from the horse woman to the girl, and then the woman left. The boy ran off to join some other children, and the girl was left to carrying both bags to what appeared to be a classroom.
As the rest of the class gathered when the bell went, he compared the girl to the rest of the children. She was small, her hair more unkept, and her clothes more ragged. They were also too large for her.
He knew right away which name was hers when the teacher called it out. It was so similar to her original name, and it made his heart skip a beat to here it.
However, she did not appear to know it. She only stared off blankly.
Eventually, when the rest of the names had been called out, and the teacher saw that there was one child left, she came to the logical conclusion that the absent student was in fact this one leftover girl. The teacher promptly scolded her for not paying attention when her name was called.
"B... But miss," The girl said hesitantly. "T... That's not my name."
"Then what is it?" The teacher demanded.
The girl muttered something not even he could hear.
"What was that?" The teacher asked.
She muttered again, but the small pig shouted what she had obviously been trying not to say.
"Her name is freak!"
The entire class laughed, and his blood boiled. Out of all the things... Out of all the insults...
Freak. Monster. Abomination.
All words which had been used to describe his children. And now one of them was being used to insult his...
The teacher frowned.
"Now that was not very nice." She scolded.
"But mum and dad call her that all the time." The pig argued.
The teacher's eyes narrowed.
"I will not tolerate name-calling in my class."
And with that, she continued with the lesson. He feared this was the end of it, but thankfully, it wasn't.
When the children went out to play, the teacher went to the principal himself. Evidently, she wished to investigate the girl's home situation. This filled him with satisfaction. He knew of this thing called "Child services". He wished they had been around for his own children. Then maybe at least they would have been safer. And if not Child services, then perhaps this other thing called "Witness protection".
But in any case, he hoped that this would at least help with the girl and her home situation.
He left the teacher to find the girl.
She was sitting under a tree, watching the other children playing with longing in her eyes. He knew that it would look strange, if a fully grown man were to speak with a child. It was unfortunate that he was unable to disguise himself as a student here, but he felt he would not be able to tolerate having to pretend to be so small and naive.
So he settled for pretending to be an animal. He turned himself into a sparrow, and flew down to perch on her knee.
"Oh, hello." She said shyly.
He chirped and she giggled. Just hearing her laugh was like listening to music.
"You're so pretty." She cooed softly. "Do you have any friends?"
He chirped again and shook his head.
"That's okay." She replied. "I don't have any either."
She sighed.
"It's okay. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon say that freaks don't deserve friends."
He fluttered onto her shoulder and nuzzled her cheek. She giggled and stroked his back.
"Thanks." She said softly. "Do you... Do you think we could be friends?"
He chirped happily, which caused her to chuckle again.
"Thanks." She said.
For the rest of the break, she continued to talk to him about various things. It was good, to here her voice again.
Eventually, at the end of the day, he fluttered down onto her shoulder. She giggled quietly.
"Do you want to come home with me?" She asked.
He chirped excited. She chuckled again.
"Okay, but I'll have to hide you. I don't want Uncle Vernon to hurt you." She said before stuffing him into her large shirt.
When he was eventually released, it was to discover something truly horrifying.
She lived in a dam cupboard.
A cold, dark, spider infested cupboard. She had a threadbare mattress for a bed, and an old blanket to protect her from the cold.
It was from this moment on that he learnt of her treatment at the hands of her relatives, whom he soon learnt were called "the Dursleys". He soon learnt to despise them, just as much as he despised the gods.
Not much came of the teacher's intervention. Just as it seemed that she would be free of the Dursleys, the idiots with sticks appeared and wiped up the entire thing. She remained with her tormenters, and he was angry. A few more names to add to his list.
He decided that if he couldn't save her, he could at least make her tormenters lives a living hell.
He started with the troll, Vernon Dursley. He wanted to begin slow, just to ease into it.
The fun part was visiting all of the restaurants and eating all that spicy food. Thanks to him being the god of fire, he had quite the tolerance for spicy food. Thankfully, with enough food, his bowels will still have the same reaction as regular mortals. He did not know why, but he would not question it. It served his purposes, and he was not about to complain.
He spent all night working on it. He was surprised that so much could come out of him in his sparrow form, but he chocked it up to his shapeshifter nature.
The next morning, Vernon Dursley woke to discover that his shiny car had been painted a rather smelly colour of white. He had been amused to see the man go through varying colours, finally resulting in purple. The mortal was mad, and this brought him an inordinate amount of pleasure. Even she was giggling at the site.
Unfortunately, the girl's amusement did not last long.
First, she was forced to clean the car, which took a long time. He did his best to entertain her and help her through the hard work. He was used to cleaning up his own messes during his time among the gods, even if it was never this literal.
They figured out a method where she would spray the car down with a hose and he would slide around on a sponge. It was actually quite fun, regardless of how wet he got. Hey, she was laughing by the end of it, so he would consider it a win.
Unfortunately, she was blamed for the mess. So the Dursleys decided to lock her in the dark cupboard, with little to no food.
Fortunately, he was able to unlock the door when the Dursleys were asleep and sneak her food. He would have to leave the house to get it, as he did not wish for the Dursleys to suspect she was stealing from them. But at least she began to eat more than she appeared to be used to. Soon, she would have a proper bodyweight for her age and height. This would make her stronger, he hoped.
He decided to increase the scale of his next attack against Vernon Dursley. He observed his day to day life. A comfortable office job at a place that made drills. An idea struck him, and he cackled. This was going to be fun.
In the coming weeks, grunnings saw a steady decline in production. Equipment kept breaking, people kept getting injured, and sales were decreasing. The steady flow of money was becoming less and less, and no one was happy, Especially not one Vernon Dursley.
Well, no one except for him. He took great glee in seeing Vernon Dursley's face every time something went wrong.
That was, until she had to pay for it. Why that idiot would blame the poor child was beyond him, but it was something that could not be stopped. The best he could do was help alleviate her pain, just as she had done for him so long ago.
After this, he decided to take a little break from Vernon and turn his attentions to Petunia.
The woman's outward appearance was only a fraction of her ugliness within. He would say she had the face of a horse, only his son was much, much more attractive than this wench. She had an extremely long and skinny neck, which seemed to be compensating for her husband's lack of one. And her voice was just so annoying, especially when she was spreading gossip. The worst part was that her favourite thing to spread rumours about was her.
She would call her a little troublemaker, ungrateful for what the wench and her husband did for her.
Oh, he knew exactly how to deal with this one. And first off, he would start with the only somewhat attractive part of her.
It was an old trick, but it was a classic. And it was just so easy to find the kitchen scissors and sneak up the stairs into their room.
The next morning, Petunia Dursley woke to find that every single last hair on her head had been cut off. Her screaming had practically woken up the entire street, and he loved it.
Yet again, she was blamed for it. The wench decided to take her punishment into her own hands.
She dragged the girl into the bathroom, and proceeded to hack off every single strand of ebony hair until the poor girl was almost as bald as the woman, excluding a clump of hair on her forehead, to apparently cover up the scar.
This angered him. How dare that woman cut off her hair in some twisted form of revenge. In the cupboard, the girl was now in tears. As she slept, he used his power to restore her hair to the lushes locks it had once been. He even took it upon himself to brush the wild curls out. Her hair was now cleaner than it had been in years, and this only served to enhance the girl's beauty. She now looked less of a trouble maker.
The only thing were the clothes, which he was disgusted to learn once belonged to the little pig. However, they would be dealt with in time.
Petunia began to ware a wig to cover up her bald head. She even had the audacity to pretend it was her natural hair in a new style.
He would have none of it.
So as a bird, he swooped down upon the woman and snatched up the wig, revealing the bald head beneath.
He was pleased to see her splutter, red-faced in her humiliation. However, she was quick to blame the girl for her lack of hair.
And they were willing to accept that.
Thanks to Petunia and Vernon, she had a very bad reputation before she had even been seen in public. This caused her to be hated by the people of this area.
He would change this. And he would do it by playing the Dursley's own game.
It was all too easy. He took on the form of many people, both male and female. A word hear, an implication there. Even after centuries of exile, his silver tongue had still not lost it's charms.
Soon, rumours began to spread about the truth of what occurred in the Dursley household. Unfortunately, thanks to the idiots with sticks, another investigation was not launched.
But rumours still spread, and now looks that were once scornful were now sympathetic. People who had shunned her were now kind. And the Dursleys' social standing decreased as steadily as the production rate at grunnings.
One day, when she was eight, she was sitting on a swing and he was on her shoulder.
"You know," She began. "I don't think I've ever given you a name."
He cocked his head.
"I'm sorry about that." She continued. "I just... Never thought about it. It's just... In my mind, I think of you as my guardian angel or something."
He could not help but feel amused at this. He was many things. An angel was most definitely not one of them. But she was correct in saying that he was like her guardian.
"Yeah, I know, silly." She said. "But ever since you came along, things have been... Well, I wouldn't say better, but they've been easier to handle."
He nuzzled her face, and she giggled.
"Thanks." She said. "But still... I think you need a name. Everyone deserves a name."
She adopted a thoughtful expression, and began to bite! her thumbnail, an adorable little trait which had been passed on from her first life.
He thought about it as well. What did he want her to call him?
Then, he decided. He gently sent a thought into her mind. Her eyes lit up immediately.
"Ikol." She said, smiling. "How about that?"
He chirped in agreement.
"Okay, Ikol it is." She said, smiling.
There conversation was interrupted by several jeering laughs. They both looked up to see the pig and his gang.
"Talking to yourself again freak!" The boy sneered, his friends laughing cruelly.
She covered him with her hair protectively.
"No." She said defiantly. "I am talking to my friend Ikol."
The pig and his gang laughed.
"What, you're so much of a freak you can't find any real friends, so you have to make them up?" The pig jeered.
"At least I have enough of an imagination to make friends up." She retorted.
The pig clenched his fists.
"Why you..." The boy began.
He knew what was coming next. It always happened, and he could do little to stop it.
He hated this child. He preyed upon those who were smaller and weaker than him, especially her. He was as dumb as a ton of bricks, large, arrogant, and loved throwing his wait around. Just like that musclebound oaf.
Normally, he did not like harming children. But he would make an exception for this one, and his followers.
As the boy approached, he conjured a wall of fire. The pig jumped back in fear, unfortunately not even slightly chard. However, he could still smell the distinct cent which indicated the boy and his little friends had lost control of their bladders. They ran away screaming, and he let the firewall fall.
"Did you do that?" She asked.
He chirped in amusement.
"Well, thanks." She continued. "But I don't think Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia will be too happy."
He nuzzled her face comfortingly.
"Thank you." She said softly. "Ikol, I... I love you."
He knew she did not mean the kind of love they had once shared. She was still too young.
But at least it was something.
Just before she was to turn nine, he was suddenly pulled away. He soon found himself in the middle of what looked like a ruffly drawn circle.
He knew of what it was. Though, he had rarely been called upon for his power. Very few were willing to summon him.
He soon heard the voices of what appeared to be small children.
"George, it worked!"
"Yeah, I know Fred. I can't believe it!"
He turned to see two red-haired twins looking at him in... Adoration? Well, this was interesting.
He cleared his throat.
"Well, this is an interesting predicament." He began.
The twins instantly began bowing to him. It was honestly amusing.
"Oh great God of Mischief." They began in unison. "We ask for your blessing so that we may spread chaos and trickery. We are your humble servants of mischief."
He had to hold back his laughter. He had rarely been called upon. He was not exactly the most popular.
And yet, these boys were throwing themselves at him. The sight of these boys reminded him all too well of his own twins. He had to stop himself from crying at the thought.
No, it would not do to cry in front of his willing worshippers.
He lifted a hand.
"Please, you may rise." He began.
They instantly stood upright, staring at him in joy and adoration.
"This is very unexpected." He continued. "May I ask why you would ask for my blessing?"
"You are the God of Mischief." One twin began.
"The bringer of chaos, both good and bad." The second continued.
"We want to be like you." The first continued.
"Bring joy and amusement through pranks."
"And punish those who deserve it with just as much mischief."
He looked from one twin to the other. An idea occurred to him.
"Tell me," He began. "Will the two of you be attending the school known as Hogwarts?"
"Yes great one." They both replied. "This year will be our first."
His lips spread in a wide smirk.
"Good. I know just how you can serve me." He said. "I will give you the blessing of mischief. However, I have a specific target in mind. You may use my blessing against whomever you wish, but do remember to make this person your main target."
"Who?" They both asked excitedly.
His smirk widened.
"Someone who has made me quite angry. I wish to teach him what happens when you cross the God of Mischief."
"Tell us who you wish for us to target."
His smirk turned deadly.
"Albus Dumbledore."
Later that year, Vernon Dursley's... Sister? Was this what passed for a woman? Well, anyway, this large "woman", decided to come for a visit.
This thing passing for a female treated the girl just as bad as the rest of the Dursleys. And the worst part, she had a dog with her.
Normally, he loved canines. They reminded him of his son. But this one... It was savage, brutal, feral, and the woman he came to know as Marge did not try to tame him.
This was bad, as it terrified the girl. She feared the dog, which angered him.
In her previous life, she had adored his wolf son. She was the only one who did not fear the little pup.
But now, she could not go anywhere near the brute of a dog without shaking in fear.
One day, she was chased up a tree, the dog barking up at her.
And the Dursleys laughed.
He could not take this.
He turned into a large wolf and walked up to the feral dog.
As the father of wolves, he had some dominance over canines of all kinds. He exerted this dominance over this savage beast. He growled, and within seconds, the mutt was a quivering mess.
"Ripper!" Marge Dursley screamed as she ran towards her dog.
He growled at her, and she stepped back in terror. No longer will this excuse for a woman torment her with savage dogs.
That night was hard. She appeared to have a nightmare.
She tossed and turned, tears escaping past her closed lids.
But it was what she muttered that truly horrified him.
Two names, only two. But they were the names of their sons. Their sons, who had been brutally murdered in front of their eyes.
Her only children, one forced to slaughter the other, right in front of her.
He could not turn into his full form, as the cupboard was too small. And in any case, it would have been inappropriate.
So he took on the form of a child and held her close, giving her warmth from his own body. Keeping her comfortable. Keeping her safe.
Just before she was to turn eleven, he discovered something very interesting. In this life, she had the ability to speak to snakes.
He was quite ambivalent when it came to snakes. On one hand, his son had been a snake, and he missed all of his lost children. But on the other hand, he had spent centuries imprisoned with a snake dripping poison into his face. This had left him somewhat traumatised, even after all this time.
But still, he did find it very interesting that she should have this power. It may even come in useful. Snakes could be very good spies.
He knew she would be going to Hogwarts this year. His little acolytes had been causing quite a lot of mischief in his name, and he was glad. He had given them further orders to help protect the girl, and they were all too happy to help.
But he would also be joining her. It was time he was a more active presence in her life.
He made the proper arrangements. It wasn't too hard to sneak into the school and add an extra name to the student list for this year. And soon, he had a letter in green ink addressed to his new identity.
Now all he needed to do was wait for her to get her letter.
He did not have to wait long. Only about a week before her eleventh birthday, she found a letter addressed to her while collecting the mail. Unfortunately, it was quickly taken from her and destroyed.
But it appeared these wizards were determined.
Letters began appearing in the strangest places, and it brought him no small amount of amusement to watch the Dursleys becoming more and more desperate.
He was especially amused to watch the family being attacked by letters in their living room.
And oh, the road trip was just incredible. The Dursleys were slowly going mad, and he loved it.
Eventually, they were all on a rock in the middle of an ocean, and were cornered by the giant who had taken her to the Dursleys so long ago. And oh, was she angry when she learnt the truth of her mortal heritage. He loved watching the fools who had tormented her for so long finally being put in their place.
And the tail. He mustn't forget about the tail.
One month later, he was walking down the large train, dragging a trunk along. He was not used to being so short, but his eleven year old form was necessary.
He briefly saw his acolytes and winked at them. The twins exchanged a look and grinned right back at him.
Soon, he found who he was looking for.
"Excuse me." He began. "Do you mind some company?"
She looked up.
"Umm... Sure." She said hesitantly.
He smiled and hoisted his trunk into the luggage racks above, before sitting down.
"Is this your first year too?" He asked.
"Umm, yes." She replied.
He smiled and extended a hand.
"I'm Floki Liesmith." He said.
Her lips twitched in a small smile as she took his hand.
"I'm Signy." She said quietly. "Signy Potter."
His smile widened.
"It is a pleasure to meet you Signy." He said dramatically, going as far as to kiss the back of her hand.
She giggled.
"It's nice to meet you to." She said, smiling.
He smiled in return. Now, he could build a proper relationship with her. And this time, he would not take what he had for granted. He would give her all the love and affection she deserved.
This time, he would treat her right. She would come first, before any of his own desires.
And he would protect her. Even if he had to fight the gods themselves. He had lost her. He had found her.
And he would never lose her again.