HP: Fairborn Adventures

July 13th, 1976

The sweet sounds of bird tweets echoed through the warm air of what promised to be a beautiful summer day. Marlene's long golden locks sparkled in the bright sunlight as Harry led her away from Potter Manor along a small cobblestone road. A peal of soft laughter broke from her pink lips when Harry helped her jump over a large puddle of water on the ground. She beamed up at him with large blue eyes, and their fingers found each other once more.

The blonde girl next to him had taken a leap of faith several months ago and decided to trust Harry, even though she knew he'd be unable to share his entire past with her from the very beginning. She had shown immense patience and willingness during their countless hours of occlumency practice. All so she could support him even better in the future and keep his secrets safe.

It was time to show her how much he valued that.

"Are we going on a picnic?" Marlene smiled in excitement while leaping over a particularly large snug on the road.

"I like the idea." Harry grinned. "We can add the picnic once I am done with what I have planned for you."

"Are you not going to tell me until we're there?" A cute pout crept up on her lips. One Harry had gotten used to resisting over the last few months.

"We are almost there already." Harry chuckled. He felt the edge of the ward lines around Potter Manor a few feet ahead of him. Soon they would cross them: "Hold on tightly to my hand!"

Marlene did as she was told, yet looked up at him with large curious eyes: "What are you...?"

Harry tightened his grip and pictured his destination, then the world swirled. A soft snap echoed over a flower-covered field the couple found themselves standing in the subsequent second. Next to him, Marlene stumbled ever so slightly and clung to his shoulder as not to lose balance.

Piercing blue eyes narrowed and she slapped him on his chest: "Three things, Harry Ignotus Peverell!"

She poked his chest, hard: "A warning would have been appreciated!"

She poked him again: "How in Morgana's name are you able to apparate already?"

She poked him a final time: "Do you even know that you just did magic outside of school? What were you thinking, you prat?!"

"Relax." Harry laughed. He kissed the small angry wrinkle on her forehead and brought her hands in his own: "I will give you a fair warning next time, I promise you. Now, don't tell me you are actually surprised that I have learned to apparate already. And lastly, I am an emancipated minor and the Lord to Britain's oldest House." He flashed the thick Peverell ring on his finger: "Besides, the moment anyone would even try to apply the Trace on me, I would simply dispel it."

"I did not even know that was possible." Marlene frowned. She took a look around: "Pray tell, where have you brought me?"

"Only a few miles north from Potter Manor to the beautiful village of Godric's Hollow." Harry's fingers found hers once more and he guided her to the edge of the field.

That seems to spike Marlene's interest: "Lots of students at Hogwarts either have or had family in this village at some point. Back when its entire population was magical, before 1849, it used to be similar to Hogsmeade."

"I wish Binns taught that kind of history at Hogwarts." Harry mused: "I might not drop his class if he did."

They took the narrow path down to the small village and soon reached the square, where Harry paused briefly.

"What are you looking at?" Marlene asked beside him in confusion. Harry's eyes glanced over the war memorial once more, yet it remained an obelisk covered in names. It did not change into a statue of three people, as Harry had almost anticipated. The obelisk remained what it was. There was no man with untidy hair and glasses, no woman with long hair and a kind, pretty face, and certainly no baby boy sitting in his mother's arms.

There won't be a need to honor them with a statue this time. He would make sure of that. His fingernails dug into the skin of his own palm so deeply, they almost drew blood.

"Harry!" Marlene inhaled sharply when his grip tightened painfully around her fingers.

"I am sorry." Harry was shaken out of his trance: "It's nothing."

He continued heading towards the church, not missing the way Marlene was shooting him slightly confused and worried looks every so often. No mass was held this time around, but just as he remembered, there was a kissing gate at the entrance to the graveyard.

"A graveyard?" Marlene frowned.

"It will all make sense soon." Harry gave his girlfriend's hand a small squeeze and gestured for her to follow him.

He pushed the kissing gate open and they both edged through it. Images of the very same scene but with a path covered in snow danced before his eyes, yet Harry pushed them aside. He would not see their graves this time. Behind the church, row upon row of tombstones covered the entire stretch, with the occasional empty slot.

"An Abbott..." Marlene mused as they passed the first grave: "Definitely a relative of Tobias and Edward Abbot. They graduated two years ago."

'Hannah's father and uncle.' He fought down the sharp stab of pain that surged through him. This time around, Hannah would not be turned into an orphan during her sixth year.

They waded deeper and deeper into the graveyard when Marlene suddenly tugged on his hand. Harry turned around, already having a strong suspicion of what she must have spotted.

"Kendra Dumbledore?" Marlene asked bewildered as she stared down onto the tombstone.

"The headmaster's mother." Harry nodded: "Together with his sister Ariana."

"Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." He whispered. Harry did not even have to look down onto the lichen-spotted granite to repeat the words.

Marlene opened her mouth in confusion and would have undoubtedly asked further questions if Harry had not cupped her cheek and shook his head ever so slightly: "The headmaster's many secrets are not the reason I have brought you here today. It's a story for a different time."

She frowned at him yet nodded her understanding. Harry continued to lead her all the way into the back of the cemetery, where most of the oldest graves had not been replaced yet. Then, he finally spotted the crumbling, mossy stone he had been looking for.

The Elder Wand slid into his palm and with a small flick, the majority of the moss vanished. Harry bent low and scraped away whatever his charm had failed to clean after one millennium of exposure to nature. Soon, the name of his ancestor was revealed and easily readably.

"Ignotus Claudius Peverell." Marlene whispered as her fingers traced each of the engraved roman letters: "The person you have been named after?"

Harry gave her a short nod.

She continued with a raised eyebrow: "But this grave looks incredibly old, Harry. Why have you been named after a person that must have been dead for several centuries already?"

"What do you know about my family, Marlene?" Harry cupped her cheek gently and lifted her head until her eyes met his: "I am sure you have done your research on me after our encounter on the express."

A small blush crept up on her cheeks, but she did not deny the accusation. Instead, she held his gaze: "I could not really find that much, so I asked my father about you. Apparently, the Peverells were an old aristocratic Roman family that migrated to Britain during the expansion of the Roman empire under Hadrian."

She smirked: "Just like you, they have always been rather secretive but magically powerful. That combination made them one of the few families who held their influence over the British Isles for centuries until they eventually died out."

"Supposedly." She added with a kiss to his cheek.

Harry nodded approvingly: "That's the version Binns could tell me about, but not really the one I am interested in. Tell me what they whisper about my family... Tell me what, up until a few generations ago, pureblood parents told their children as bedtime stories..."

Marlene gulped and Harry could almost feel the slight shiver run down her spine: "They say the warlords of your family were ruthless on the battlefield and caused the extinction of dozens of other pureblood families to secure their hold and power."

Her voice changed into a whisper: "They say that the Peverells gathered their unfair advantage via a pact with Death itself. Powerful magic in exchange for delivering souls to the afterlife."

A grin spread from one side of her face to the other: "But I am afraid none of those stories impressed me. Scary anecdotes did not terrify me as a child and they certainly do not now." She pressed her lips up to his in a soft kiss: "Besides, I was a lot more curious about the Peverell in my time than any tales about those that came before him."

"What if there was some truth to what they whisper about me?" Harry's breath hitched ever so slightly. He was about to reveal a secret. Perhaps not his biggest, but a dangerous one nevertheless: "Some truth about that supposed deal with Death?"

"Is there?" Marlene raised a delicate eyebrow, obviously unable to tell whether he was teasing her or not.

Harry gestured to the tombstone: "Ignotus had two older brothers... Antioch and Cadmus... They both died before him."

Marlene frowned at him, so Harry simply continued and reached inside his robes: "I have shown you this one before..."

He placed the soft, silvery material of his invisibility cloak into her open arms. Harry had given it to her on a few occasions at Hogwarts, back when her disillusionment charm was not perfect yet and they intended to meet in private.

"You have." Marlene nodded, her finger trailing over the smooth silken material: "It works better than any cloak I have heard of."

"It's far from a normal cloak." He gestured for the grave: "What if I told you it belonged to Ignotus at one point?"

Marlene frowned: "Harry, the average invisibility cloak works perhaps for five years... There is no way that..."

She stopped abruptly; her mouth remained open. Harry could almost see the wheels turning in that Ravenclaw brain of hers. She gaped from Harry to the cloak in her arms and then to the name carved into the grave next to her.

"He was the youngest of three brothers?" She gulped heavily.

"Yes, he was." Harry smiled, knowing that she was on the right track: "And he survived both of them by a very wide margin."

"And you say he owned this cloak at one point?" Marlene asked very slowly while holding his gaze.

"Actually..." Harry smirked: "...It was gifted to him until he passed it on to his son."

"A deal with Death, you said..." Marlene whispered: "Or a gift from Death?"

Her eyes darted down to the cloak once more before she stared up at him with an intensity Harry had hardly seen before in them.

"Beedle the Bard" She whispered so faintly that Harry only recognized the words based on her lip movements: "The Tale of the Three Brothers..."

"... Has some truth to it." Harry finished for her.

"You own one of the three legendary items from Death... A cloak that is said to be Death's personal invisibility Cloak." Marlene stuttered disbelievingly, shaking her head ever so slightly.

Harry decided to go for the overkill: "Actually..." He flicked his wand into his palm once more and flashed the Peverell Ring: "...Three items were gifted to my family... And three items have been reunited by the last Peverell."

Marlene looked about ready to faint...

July 27th, 1976

"What about this other Parselmouth? Voldemort?" Aurelius' voice echoed from the ancient tome: "Has he made any public appearances yet?"

The scratching of the quill on parchment paused as Harry raised the tip and placed it next to the almost finished essay: "No... Which is unlike the last timeline if I am not mistaken. Neither are there any raids on Muggle villages or attacks by his Death Eaters. I am not sure when exactly Voldemort started the war in my original timeline, but it must have been at this point already."

His eyes glanced over the essay on human to inhuman transfiguration he was currently finishing for McGonagall. Harry had decided to get most of his schoolwork for the summer done today, so he could use the remaining weeks more effectively. A small smile crept on his lips: 'Meaning either spending them with Marlene, the Potters, or learning magic from his Ancestors."

The shadow of black ink twisted on the pale parchment of the tome: "I think you underestimate the consequences of your actions in this timeline, Harry. If this Malfoy family is as prosperous as you claim and if the acting Lord lost his only heir already, then Voldemort will miss their financial support quite dearly."

Harry merely hummed in agreement.

"In addition, while I might have never been the greatest politician myself, even I can conclude that you taking action in the Wizengamot must have dampened this Dark Lord's efforts to reach the more conservative pureblood families. By doing rather little you still managed to delay his rise to power."

"I don't think I am doing enough." Harry frowned as closed the book on transfiguration: "It will only be a matter of time before the muggle papers will be full of weird gas leaks and hurricanes, while wizards and witches disappear and dementors spread fear and hopelessness in every magical settlement."

"Dementors?" Aurelius' bust shifted.

"Yeah." Harry groaned: "He used them before and they will undoubtedly join him again, along with a bunch of other dark creatures."

"What is your defense against them?"

Harry raised an eyebrow: "The Patronus Charm, of course. As far as I am aware, there is no better way to repel them."

A low chuckle escaped the tome: "The statement might be true, but why would you want to repel them if you can eradicate them forever?"

"How is that possible?" Harry frowned.

"Do you know the origins of the Dementors?" Aurelius inquired.

Harry shrugged: "Was it not some twisted necromancy experiment gone wrong?"

"Yes and no, in a sense." Aurelius' bust contorted as the black ink spread out over the opened pages, drawing pictures to accompany his story: "Millenia ago, a Babylonian tyrant enslaved the entire population of the countries he conquered and worked them to death under inhuman conditions."

Harry watched as the black ink showed a cruel face, a battlefield, a magnificent city, and the rope of a whip scoring deep gashes into the bony backs of slaves.

"He knew that the only emotion powerful enough to overcome the fear he created, was hope. In an effort to eradicate any form of hope from his prisoners, he ordered his sorcerers and necromancers to work on a spell that permanently embodies the very emotions he created by physical means so far."

"He intended for fear, despair, and hopelessness to take on a material form so they could harass his prisoners even better?" Harry asked in disbelief. That tyrant was certainly a cruel man.

"He did... And he cursed humanity with his endeavors for eternity... " Aurelius whispered from the tome and the images drawn in black ink shifted. Harry watched the sorcerers' attempt at experimental necromantic rituals, which ended with a tall skeleton-like, cloaked figure rising from a rune-covered ground.

"Dementors are an abomination, never meant to roam on this side of the realm. They are mankind's attempt at harvesting some of Death's powers for themselves, perverting them to do their own bidding."

"I am certainly not fond of them either." Harry chuckled: "In my third year, they seemed to harass me more than anyone else. Back then, my Dark Arts professor presumed it was because I had bottled up far stronger negative memories and emotions inside me than any of my peers. I later theorized it might have also been due to the Horcrux inside me. Perhaps the dementors felt that there was something wrong with my soul..."

"The second option is far more likely, but still not the reason why the dementors targeted you and will always continue doing so." The ink twisted back into the form Aurelius bust: "You could have grown up with the happiest childhood and the purest soul and any dementor would still seek you out among any other prey..."

"Why is that?" Harry inquired.

"Because of your blood, Harry. Peverell blood. Our family's association with Death reaches far deeper than the Hallows. The dementors target you because they fear you. They can sense Death's touch on you. It is something they fear even more than us humans since they know what punishment awaits them back on their side of the realm for corrupting Death's might in such a perverted way."

"You make it sound like I have the power to send them back there..." Harry frowned.

"That's because you do, my descendant." The ink shadow dipped its head ever so slightly: "And I will teach you how to do it. But first, what shape does your Patronus usually take?"

"A stag." Harry answered almost automatically: "It used to always be a stag."

"Used to?"

"Well, I have not had the need to conjure one ever since being sent back to the past." Harry slipped his wand into his palm: "Let's see then..."

He pictured the one thing that made him the happiest for the last few months. Marlene's soft smile danced in his thoughts, accompanied by her soothing peals of laughter. Harry could almost taste her sweet lips and smell her fresh, strawberry scent deep in his nostril:

"Expecto Patronum!"

At first, Harry thought nothing had changed when a four-legged creature erupted from the tip of his wand in a thick cloud of silvery smoke. However, its hooves were too thin, to a point where one could see the bones. Its fur did not look as fluffy as a stag's should; it was leathery and slightly wrinkled. Regardless, the largest difference was the missing antlers on the creature's skeleton-like head. Instead, a large pair of thin wings were stretched to each side of its torso.

A Thestral

"Well... It's not a stag anymore." Harry whispered as he held out his hand to the ethereal creature's beak: "It's a Thestral now."

"A common occurrence in our family and further proof that you are a Peverell. It is our clan's totem after all." Aurelius' voice echoed from the tome with a touch of pride: "Mine changed from a fox into a Thestral after uniting all three Hallows and Ignotus' Patronus was said to take the same shape."

"So how does this relate to the piece of magic we talked about earlier?" Harry asked while vanishing the creature with a flick of his wand: "The one that is supposed to be able to destroy a dementor?"

"It is a similar piece of magic, yet the foundation is completely different. A Patronus is a guardian... a protective angel, called to your help. Its conjuration requires little power, simply the ability to recall a positive memory and focus on it. It barely has its own consciousness, let alone shows any desire to follow anyone's will but its master's."

Harry nodded his understanding.

"In contrast, the charm you shall use from now on against the dementors is a spell invented by our family. The ability to cast it was passed down in our blood, making it family magic. We call it the Carnifex Charm."

A small chuckle escaped Harry's lips. His proficiency in the Latin language might not be flawless, but the name of the charm still rang a bell: "The Butcher?"

"Well, it's certainly not a guardian." The shadow of ink flickered: "It's a derivative of Fiendfyre, one of the most dangerous spells ever created by humankind. A spell you have encountered already if I am not mistaken. The Carnifex is more aggressive than a Patronus could ever be. Its ultimate goal is not to simply provide protection to its caster, but to be continuously fueled by the caster's desire to defend himself. Hopefully up not up to a point where the Carnifex is strong enough to turn on whoever created it."

"Just like the Fiendfyre turned on Crabbe and killed him." Harry murmured: "Why would I want to conjure something that might turn against me? That sounds like a very unstable spell to mess with. How do you keep it in check and stop it from turning against you?"

"By simply maintaining the upper hand in the constant battle of wills against your own creation. Allow the charm to grow only to the capacity you set for it and not an inch further. Direct it with strong intent and don't let it slip from your grasp for even a split second! The consequences might be severe."

"Somehow I doubt that this spell will be fueled by a positive memory like one does a Patronus." Harry cringed.

Aurelius chuckled: "You are right of course. Though the memory can still be a positive one. Yet, more important are the sentiments, emotions, and the intent that memory or feeling evokes in you. It can be desperation over trying to save a loved one, utter hatred or loathing towards a foe, the visualization of a distant dream coming true. It doesn't really matter what fuels the spell. All that matters is that you let the feeling fully consume you and that it is powerful enough."

"What's the full incantation?" Harry wondered: "Shall I give it a try?"

"Certainly not in here!" The shadow's head twisted from side to side: "You're well versed in the mind arts, which will help you control it, but the first time you cast such a spell should be either outdoors, or in a large enough room that is heavily protected by wards."

"That makes sense. We can use the Chamber of Secrets at Hogwarts. It's large, empty and no one else can get in there besides me." Harry mused, remembering the nature of the spell. "Is there anything else you can teach me until then?"

"I have knowledge in abundance to share, but much of it will have to wait until you go back to school." Came the voice out of the tome: "Securing the future of our blood and protecting the Hallows is important, Harry. Just don't forget to live your life. Remember the goals you have set for yourself when you came back here."

"You're right." Harry chuckled and closed the thick tome with a grin before Aurelius could protest.

'I miss my blond girlfriend.'

August 10th, 1976

"You know I am able to eat by myself just fine, don't you?" Harry rolled his eyes but nevertheless dutifully opened his mouth.

A spoonful of vanilla ice cream swept past his lips, its sweet flavor clung to the inside of Harry's mouth even after he swallowed it down.

"But it's so much cuter this way, don't you agree?" Marlene teased him with a smirk. She withdrew the silver spoon and prepared another small portion for him.

"You only prefer this method since you can control how much I can eat of it." Harry's lips curled upwards: "You want to keep as much for yourself as possible, my greedy little girlfriend..."

The next spoonful of ice cream changed direction just before meeting Harry's lips and darted towards Marlene's mouth instead. Her blue ice sparkled with amusement upon seeing the pout on his slightly parted lips: "You are right. Vanilla is my favorite."

"I could have just gotten us two separate cones then," Harry stated.

"Two cones are less romantic to share, Harry." She leaned back into her chair, closed her eyes, and swept her long ponytail over one shoulder. The warm summer sun danced in her golden hair, making it look like a waterfall of liquid honey.

Every single table at Fortescue's cafe was occupied with chatting customers, enjoying a hot day of shopping in Diagon Alley. Marlene and Harry had decided to do their back-to-school shopping a bit earlier together and finish off the date with some ice cream.

Marlene opened her large blue eyes and caught him staring at her: "Something wrong with my face?"

"Certainly not." Harry grinned: "It's the most beautiful face I have ever seen."

"Flattery will get you nowhere with me, Mr. Peverell." Marlene raised a delicate eyebrow: "I have heard it all before."

"It was worth a try." Harry's hand reached over the table to take her smaller ones in his own. He leaned forward and kissed her ever so slightly: "I like the taste of vanilla on your lips. It's a small comfort after barely having any ice cream for myself..."

"This summer has been amazing." Marlene sent him a soft smile and sighed contently before her eyes suddenly darted over his shoulder. Her fingers tensed in his hand.

"What's wrong?" Harry turned around abruptly, his senses on high alert.

Three dark-robed figures strode up the alley. A young beautiful woman with long black curls, flanked by two young men with short brown hair. Visitors and shoppers hastily dashed to the side to make room for them. The trio glared at the passing families, witches, and wizards with ugly sneers and looks of superiority.

Harry's eyes narrowed. A heat bubbled up inside him. The Lestranges walked up the cobblestone road of Diagon Alley. All three of them. Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan.

"It's okay, Harry." He felt Marlene's soft fingers cup his cheek and turn his face back around to hers: "They are not going to start trouble with us. Not today. Not here in the middle of Diagon Alley. They wouldn't dare the political repercussions."

"You are right. They are not going to be the ones to start trouble today." Harry's entire body suddenly tensed: "I will."

"Harry?" Marlene's voice faded away into the distant background.

Harry was too distracted watching the small wooden box Bellatrix was clutching protectively with both hands. Her eyes darted down to it every so often, as if it was of utmost importance. The box was partly hidden under her long cloak, a rather unusual attire for such a warm day...

Harry's eyes narrowed further when the trio headed straight for Gringotts Bank. Could this be the day? The chance might be slim, but he will certainly not let it slip through his fingers.

"I will be right back with you, Marlene" Harry whispered to her as he rose from his seat.

"What are you going to do?" Marlene tried to cling to his fingers, but to no avail: "Harry, please don't do anything stupid!"

"I will explain everything later, I am sorry." Harry shot her one last apologetic look. His chair was pushed back and Harry vanished into the crowd of shoppers. Within the mass of people, no one paid attention to him. The Elder Wand slid into his palm once more and with the tiniest flick, Harry disillusioned himself and vanished from sight.

He carefully dodged the incoming crowd. His height allowed him to keep an eye on the Lestranges, who were only a few shops away from reaching the Bank. Once they were inside, trying anything was too foolish and could perhaps start a war with Goblin nation. It had to be done now.

His hand slipped into an inside pocket of his robes. He felt his fingers curl around a little present from the future that he made sure to always carry with him. Especially when he went somewhere public and might need a distraction.

Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder from Fred and George.

Harry closed the remaining distance to the trio until he was only a few meters away. He carefully slipped past them so that he was ahead. Harry pulled out the small sack of powder, opened it, and closed his fingers around a handful. Then, he threw it right in front of the Lestranges and followed it up with a tripping jinx at Bellatrix's feet.

High, frightened shrieks boomed through the alley as a massive cloud of thick black smoke shot towards the blue summer sky. It spread rapidly, not only covering the Lestrange trio but the entire passage and nearby shops.

"Bellatrix!" He heard Rodolphus growl in anger and desperation: "Bellatrix, do you still have it?"

It was definitely worth a try. Harry aimed his wand at where the voices sounded from and spoke the incantation silently: 'Accio wooden box!'

"NO!" A high female voice screamed desperately. Unable to see anything, Harry tried to prepare himself as well as possible for the incoming item. Suddenly, something small, angular, and unmistakably wooden surged through the thick black fog and connected with his torso. Harry buckled over with a small howl of pain. At least he had not been hit in the head.

"Get it back!" He heard Bellatrix scream through the fog.

Harry pushed his magic through the thin piece of wood in his palm and charmed the box un-summonable. He knew too well that the item inside it had the same charm applied to it already. Yet it was something the Lestranges had overlooked. Luckily it was not Harry that had to admit this mistake to their master later this day.

"Accio box!" All three of them tried to no avail.

'Time to get the hell out of here. The Aurors must be on their way.' Harry crawled over the cobblestone road away from them as quickly as possible. The cloud of black smoke can't have spread too far...

"Stupefy!" A flash of red light missed him by an inch.

"STOP HIM!" Bellatrix screamed: "STOP HIM!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

Shrieks of panic and terror echoed through the alley as the first unforgivable was cast. Harry threw himself flat to the ground, knowing that the mad witch was undoubtedly aiming roughly in the direction the box had been summoned to.

Apparating inside of Diagon Alley was certainly not an easy feat. It would get him in all sorts of trouble if he was caught, but Harry preferred it to the alternative. He had to get out of here. He pictured the bright red umbrellas in front of Fortescue's Cafe, where hopefully, Marlene would still be waiting for him before he vanished with a soft snap.

Perhaps there was a chance she won't be too angry. A very small chance.