Serpent's Bloodline: Legacy of the Basilisk

A man emerged from the darkness of the alleyway. The figure was shrouded in a cloak which hid his face and actually made him appear as if he truly was nothing more than a shadow - if a shadow could stand upright and had grey eyes, glowing beneath a dark hood, that is…

"You know," the shadow said slowly. "Most likely, you're going to have some trouble because of the boy's spells."

The other one - a man in his early twenties with black, unruly hair and eyes of an even lighter green than Harry's had been - shrugged.

"I may," He answered. "But even if I do, handling it will be child's play."

"Sa…"

"It is 'Harry' now," The man corrected and snatched the vanished boy's lost glasses from the ground. "You should become accustomed to it."

With that he turned the glasses in his hands to look at them from all sides with distain.

"We'll never speak in public," the shadow objected unhappily, watching the other man intensely.

The green-eyed man didn't seem to be bothered by it at all.

He just shrugged.

"Then do it for me," he said. "I will have to learn to answer to that name now."

"You will," the shadow sighed. "But I never understood why you had to vanish the boy in the first place. He's just a boy - why trouble yourself with schemes to finish him off?"

'Harry' sighed unhappily.

"It had to be that way, Reg," he replied. "He would not have survived tonight. He was never meant to survive."

"That's what you say," Reg pointed out. "Do you have visions, to know such things?"

The young looking man raised an eyebrow at that question.

"I do not," he answered, sighing. "But I learned a long time ago that some things are unchangeable. I tried. I tried to rescue the boy before - I was unable to. I did not even find the place where the boy lived - even when I knew where it was, I could not find it - and I could not rescue others I knew were about to die… Believe me, I tried! Oh! How I tried…"

Reg stayed silent after these words, a contemplating look on his face.

It was clear that he actually hadn't expected the answer he'd been given by 'Harry.'

'Harry' on the other hand turned his head and glanced at the place the vanished boy - the former Harry Potter - had been some minutes before.

"I will be Harry now," he finally said quietly and, oddly enough, sadly. "I have to be Harry now. This was my plan from the start."

He didn't look too pleased, even after claiming that it was his plan they were currently following.

Reg frowned.

"And you really can do it?" he asked the other man doubtfully. "It won't be easy, after all. You'll have to behave exactly like the boy… and… well… you're quite a bit older than him, you know?"

"That is not a problem," 'Harry' replied and closed his eyes in concentration. For a moment nothing seemed to happen, then, slowly but surely, his features and body started to change.

When the changes stopped barely a minute later, he was a little more than five years younger and several inches smaller.

"There we go," he said, while picking up the boy's wand. He gave it an experimental swish, frowned at it for a second and then shrugged.

"A bit different than the wands I normally use," he said. "But then, the craftsmanship might be a bit better than with mine."

With that he channelled his magic through the wand and sparks lit its tip - the wand bowing to the man as its new master.

'Harry' shrugged again before hiding the wand away in one of the wand-holsters he was wearing. Then he proceeded to glamour his longer hair and clothes with his own wand, before turning his gaze back to the glasses in his hand. He frowned at them unhappily again and then changed the lenses of the glasses to window glass.

"Alright," he put the glasses on with a grimace. "How do I look?"

"Like the boy," Reg answered while eyeing the other critically. "Are you sure you're able to play Harry?"

The other rolled his eyes.

"Of course I am," he said.

"Then you'll have to lose your accent," Reg concluded. "No one will believe that you're Harry when you've got a foreign accent."

'Harry' sighed.

"I will lose it," he replied and rubbed his hand over his face - nearly pulling the glasses from his nose in the process which made him frown at them again, clearly unhappy that he was forced to wear them. "I haven't spoken English in a long time. It will take some time to think in it again…"

"You…" But whatever the other one wanted to say, he was interrupted by 'Harry' before even finishing the first word.

"Go! There is someone coming!" 'Harry' said, having heard something that Reg hadn't. "You mustn't be seen!"

Reg reacted instantly. One moment he was there, the next a small black cat fled into the darkness.

Meanwhile, the other man spun around, hiding away his own wand in the process and drawing Harry's before pointing it toward the face of the newcomer.

It was Harry's old babysitter, Mrs. Figg.

Hastily, 'Harry' started to stow 'his' wand away again.

"Don't put it away, idiot boy!" she shrieked. "What if there are more of them around? Oh, I'm going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!"

So she was one of them - Dumbledore's men.

He and Reg had been lucky that she hadn't seen them together. 'Harry' had never been more thankful for the concealing charms on Reg's robes that had hidden the other man long enough that Mrs Figg hadn't noticed him.

'Harry' shook off his thoughts.

He had no time to ponder on near misses.

There were other things to consider.

He was Harry Potter right now - a fifteen-year-old, undereducated wizard. He had time to ponder everything else later, not now when he had to perform for the first time.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly.

It was time.

He had to play his part…

" W hat?" he asked, trying to sound stunned.

" H e left!" said Mrs. Figg, wringing her hands. "Left to see someone about a batch of cauldrons … "

She rambled on, but 'Harry' tuned her out. Instead he took the time to slip into his Harry-persona.

He had to be Harry now.

He had to answer to 'Harry'.

He had to think about himself as Harry.

He had to simply be Harry from now on!

It would be difficult, but there was no other way if he wanted to reach his goals…

So he let her ramble, sometimes asking questions Harry would have asked, like " This Mundungus has been following me? " and " You know Dumbledore ?"

He stood by and watched while she went to Dudley and tried to lift him up.

She stooped down, seized one of Dudley's massive arms in her wizened hands and tugged.

He saw her desperation, her fear while she tried to lift the heavy boy off the ground.

"Get up, you useless lump, get up!"

Dudley either could or would not move, so 'Harry' finally declared that he would help and heaved the boy up from where he lay on the ground.

The boy was heavy, but not as heavy as other things 'Harry' had carried.

Of course, he could not let the fact that he was stronger than the original Harry show, so he tried to look as if he was struggling greatly.

"Hurry up!" said Mrs. Figg hysterically.

She was clearly out of her depth, panicking.

'Harry' could have reassured her, but the young boy he was pretending to be would have had no clue about her terror and so 'Harry' did nothing but stand by and watch.

Instead of telling Mrs Figg that the danger had passed, 'Harry' followed her lead, let her peek around corners, aware that somewhere in the dark there was a black cat laughing at him.

"Keep your wand out !"

He did as he was told, not caring to share that the Dementors were gone and wouldn't dare to return.

Dementors might be monsters, only fixated on their own pleasure - but even they weren't dumb enough to try a stunt like that again when 'Harry' was around.

There were a lot of dangers in the world and dementors definitely were one of the worst - but even they had something they feared even more than anything else.

'Harry' was their greatest fear.

He was dementor-born - and a dementor-born like 'Harry' could kill them without a lot of trouble. They wouldn't risk angering him considering his power over them.

So he let her drag him along and tried to act like a fifteen-year-old should, even when Mundungus Fletcher finally returned and he had to fight the urge to hex the useless scum just to show the man what he thought of him.

It wasn't easy.

He had to ask Mrs. Figg if she would like to use Hedwig to send a message to Dumbledore and he had to act unoffended when she said "he wouldn't understand" when, in reality, he understood very well.

The ministry wanted to disgrace him: they were trying to expel him - well, Harry - and they'd use any excuse they could get. A Patronus, even if it wasn't fully formed, would be enough - not that they knew the Patronus charm cast by Harry's wand had never been fully formed…

Finally they reached the door to number four, Privet Drive. Playing the uninformed boy he wasn't, he asked questions about why he had been followed and shouted after her to wait - because he had still sooo many questions about her, her involvement with the magical world and Dumbledore…

Luckily for him, Mrs. Figg just went on walking and didn't stop.

When the woman was finally gone, 'Harry' hesitated for a moment, then readjusted Dudley on his shoulder and took a deep breath.

This was it.

The beginning of his life as Harry James Potter of Privet Drive No. 4, Little Whinging, Surrey.

'Harry' took another deep breath, finally putting his wand away, and prepared to meet 'his' aunt.

This would be a bloodbath…

He sighed, shook his head at his thoughts and finally opened the door and went in.

There was no sense delaying this meeting any further…

'His' aunt, of course, wasn't happy about what had happened.

She fussed over her son, crying "Diddy, Diddy, Diddy!" and 'Harry' let her. He let her fuss until the first accusations were hurled at him.

"What have you done to my son?" Uncle Vernon growled.

"Nothing," 'Harry' said, knowing perfectly well that Uncle Vernon wouldn't believe him.

"What did he do to you, Diddy?" Aunt Petunia said in a quavering voice, now sponging sick from the front of Dudley's leather jacket. "Was it - was it you-know-what, darling? Did he use - his thing?"

Slowly, tremulously, Dudley nodded.

Harry gave a token of protest - he had to keep up appearances, after all.

He had actually planned to use the developing argument to leave the house with Harry's things and find another place to stay - but that was before the first owl found its way into the Dursley's kitchen.

The letter it carried made 'his' uncle angry - and amused 'Harry' to no end…

Dear Mr Potter,

We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at twenty-three minutes past nine this evening in a Muggle-inhabitated area and in the presence of a Muggle.

The severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand.

As you have already received an official warning for a previous offence under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy, we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 a.m. on the twelfth of August.

Hoping you are well,

Yours sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

Improper Use of Magic Office

Ministry of Magic

Harry read it, and then he had to read it again.

He was sure he misunderstood it, but the context didn't change with a second and third reading. He still read the phrases "expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry" and "calling… shortly to destroy your wand". They could not, would not…

Again.

'Harry' read the letter for a fifth time before finally believing it.

They really had done it.

"Expulsion," he thought. "Calling shortly to destroy my wand."

And then he cracked.

He tried to hold it in, tried to not let it be seen by his relatives - but how he wanted to! How he really wanted to!

'Harry' wanted to laugh. He wanted to laugh until he cried.

The Ministry was eager, so eager, to expel him, to disgrace him. Oh, how eager they were, trying to destroy him while playing right into his hands!

A fifteen year old Gryffindor might've been unable to think clearly due to fear. But he was no fifteen year old - and he was no Gryffindor. He didn't fear their coming - he laughed at them, them and their eagerness to punish him for his crimes…

And then he could not stop himself anymore.

Maybe it was the stress from all the planning he had done over these last months, maybe it was the relief after confronting the dementors and being able to enact everything like he wanted it to happen or maybe it was simply the huge weight that had finally been lifted off his shoulders just half an hour earlier when the other boy had vanished, never to be seen again.

He didn't know which it was or if it was all those things together. The only thing he knew was that it finally forced its way out of his chest in the form of laughter.

He chuckled.

"What is it now, boy?" Uncle Vernon sneered.

"They are coming to destroy my wand," he answered, still chuckling.

"And you think that's funny?!" His uncle looked at him as if he had lost his mind - and maybe it really looked like that.

"Yes," he answered, not caring that his accent was back. "I really think that."

"So… destroying your… thing… doesn't that mean they threw you out?" Uncle Vernon asked suspiciously.

"Yes! Yes, it does!" 'Harry' tried to calm himself, but it was nearly an impossible task.

"So you think it funny, that they threw you out?"

'Harry' chuckled again at these words.

"You don't understand the magical world, Uncle," he answered. "And it seems you are not the only one. They cannot throw me out - even if they want to."

"So you think yourself above your own kind, too, don't you, boy?" Uncle Vernon concluded and 'Harry' chuckled again.

"I don't," he grinned at his uncle, wild and feral, adorned with gleaming green eyes and blindingly white teeth. "But they think themselves above all others." For a moment he paused, then his face darkened and his grin gained an evil edge. "They will pay for this!"

Uncle Vernon opened his mouth to reply to this, when the next owl collided with the closed kitchen window.

"OWLS!" he yelled instead while Harry opened the window and freed the owl of its burden. It was another letter.

Harry -

Dumbledore's just arrived at the Ministry and he's trying to sort it all out. DO NOT LEAVE YOUR AUNT AND UNCLE'S HOUSE. DO NOT DO ANY MORE MAGIC. DO NOT SURRENDER YOU WAND.

Arthur Weasley

This time, Harry didn't even try to suppress his laughter.

Let his relatives think him mad - 'Harry' was far too amused and swamped with other feelings to care about their thoughts.

His teeth gleamed in the kitchen light while he laughed openly at the writer of the letter.

Poor, poor old man Dumbledore!

Dumbledore was going to sort it all out? Oh, yeah, he would!

He would not lose his pawn!

Oh! Poor Dumbledore, who didn't know that his pawn had perished tonight.

Poor, poor old man Dumbledore!

'Harry' cackled like mad.

He had never liked the Headmaster of Hogwarts, so he couldn't help but feel vindictive at the thought of the old man's loss tonight.

Yes, Dumbledore would try to sort it all out!

Poor, poor old fool Dumbledore! He had long since lost his pawn…

"What does that one say ?" Uncle Vernon bellowed and 'Harry' forced himself to return to the present. His face blanked out and he looked at his uncle with oddly dead eyes that made the other man shiver just looking at them.

"A reminder to stay here," Harry said sneering. "Almighty Dumbledore is trying to 'sort it all out.'"

"And you are still not worried," Uncle Vernon observed. 'Harry' shrugged and took some deep breaths while his face turned into an even more impenetrable mask.

"I will never be," he said even more calmly than before.

"And why would you not be worried, when they come to destroy your - your thing?" Uncle Vernon asked unhappily, clearly a bit intimidated by the boy's cool gaze lingering on him. "When they do something like that, you must have done something to receive this kind of treatment!"

"Oh, I did," Harry confessed, unperturbed. "I did do magic."

"AHA!" roared Uncle Vernon, slamming his fist down on top of the fridge, which sprang open; several of Dudley's low-fat snacks toppled out and burst on the floor. "So you admit it! What did you do to Dudley?"

"Nothing." But 'Harry's objection wasn't good enough - not that he tried to truly persuade them. Dudley, now feeling safe, accused him further of doing magic and his uncle and aunt of course believed Dudley over him.

So he let Dudley describe the Dementor attack, staring at his white-faced aunt - until Dudley lacked the words to describe his feelings. Then he supplied:

"As if you'd never be happy again."

"Yes," Dudley whispered, still trembling.

And again they began to accuse him, so he calmly said, "It wasn't me. It was a couple of Dementors."

"A couple of - what's this codswallop?" asked Uncle Vernon.

"De - men - tors," 'Harry' repeated, slowly and clearly. "Two of them."

"And what the ruddy hell are Dementors?"

"They guard the wizard prison, Azkaban," said Aunt Petunia.

Two seconds of ringing silence followed these words before Aunt Petunia clapped a hand over her mouth as though she had let slip a disgusting swear word. Uncle Vernon was goggling at her.

Well, that was something that 'Harry' had not expected. His aunt knew of Azkaban?

"How d'you know that?" he asked her, astonished.

Aunt Petunia looked quite appalled with herself. She glanced at Uncle Vernon in fearful apology, then lowered her hand slightly to reveal her horsy teeth.

"I heard - that awful boy - telling her about them - years ago," she said jerkily.

And suddenly he knew from whom she had learned it. Still, he could not resist saying something that he knew as false just to see her reaction…

"If you mean my mum and dad, why don't you use their names ?"

To his disappointment she didn't answer. Instead he had to watch while Uncle Vernon confirmed the Dementor's existence with his wife - boring.

And then the next owl came. And while Uncle Vernon slammed the window shut again, Harry opened the letter.

Dear Mr Potter,

Further to our letter of approximately twenty-two minutes ago, the Ministry of Magic has revised its decision to destroy your wand forthwith. You may retain your wand until your disciplinary hearing on the twelfth of August, at which time an official decision will be taken.

Following discussions with the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Ministry has agreed that the question of your expulsion will also be decided at that time. You should therefore consider yourself suspended from school pending further enquiries.

With best wishes,

Yours sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

Improper Use of Magic Office

Ministry of Magic

This letter nearly started another burst of laughter.

So no one was coming?! He still had to consider himself expelled? The ministry really seemed eager to help him!

And then of course, there was poor almighty Dumbledore, rushing to his rescue…

Well, if 'Harry' was a well-behaved pawn, then he would be absolutely grateful to almighty Dumbledore. But he wasn't, and so he could only try to hold back another laughing fit that tickled his throat.

Yes, almighty Dumbledore had stopped the Aurors from coming and destroying his wand! How lovely of him! How grateful he must be for this unnecessary help!

Of course, he would be a well-behaved little pawn, staying here and waiting for rescue!

Almighty Dumbledore - poor Harry will grovel to your feet, licking your shoes and trying to serve you…

'Harry' forced himself not to crack up again.

Oh how he would love this game! Oh how he would love to grovel and to blow it all up in Dumbledore's face! And then the ministry…

"Well?" said Uncle Vernon, recalling 'Harry' to his surroundings.

"I've got to go to a hearing," said Harry.

"And they'll sentence you there?"

"I suppose so."

"I won't give up hope, then," said Uncle Vernon nastily.

"Well, if that's all." But of course it wasn't. It took another explanation, another letter from his godfather simply telling him to stay home, and a Howler after Uncle Vernon tried to throw him out until it was over.

And now 'Harry' was lying on his bed, sighing. What an awful day to start being Harry. He suddenly wished he had never vanished the boy - not that that had been an option…

So he was lying on his bed, after he had written letters to Ron, Hermione and Sirius, waiting for Hedwig, and repeating one sentence in his mind. One sentence that was still troubling him. But he needed to believe this sentence - his life might later depend to it. He had to get that right!

And so he lay in the darkness, repeating one sentence over and over again…

"I am Harry James Potter, Son of James and Lily Potter. I am Harry James Potter, Son of James and Lily Potter…" it sounded foreign in his own ears.

It simply sounded wrong - and it was wrong!

His name wasn't Harry James Potter - it had never been. But for now it had to be. He had vanished the other boy and taken his place - and that included taking the name…

"I am Harry James Potter. I am Harry James Potter."

Oh, how he hated that name!

Harry was an awful name for a wizard!

It definitely wasn't a proper wizarding name. It might be a good mundane name, but as a wizard all that counted was ancestry - and the name "Harry" was too young in the wizarding world to show great ancestry. There was no way that "Harry" was a proper wizard name!

And Harry's parents had known that - the only one who didn't was Harry himself…

"I am Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily Potter. I am Harry James…"

"But I am not! " This time he said it aloud, needing to hear the truth, even if it was just for a single time. "I might have to call myself that for the next months, but there is no way I ever will be a foolish Gryffindor like you! I am not Harry James Potter! And I hate being called Harry!"

It felt good to rant, even if it didn't help him at all. He'd have to get used to being called Harry - there was no way to get back the name he had left behind today.

"You have planned this for the last decade," he told himself. "You will not back out now when you have finally nearly reached your goal! Just a little bit longer and you will finally have the revenge you longed for the longest time. They will not cross you again! They will not use you again! And it will be a bitter-sweet revenge when their own pawn delivers the final blow!"

And because of that he had to endure being Harry for the time being.

It was all for the greater good after all!

He grinned like a lunatic when he reminded himself of that.

Oh! How he'd love to throw this sentence back at its owner!

In that moment Hedwig swept in and 'Harry' stopped his rambling.

"Hello, girl," he said instead and waited until Hedwig greeted him like an old friend. "I have some letters for you. Would you please carry them to Ron, Hermione and Sirius?"

She nipped his finger and took off after he had secured the letters. 'Harry' went to his window, looking out and following her flight with his eyes until he couldn't see her anymore. Then his gaze turned to the ground where a black cat was sitting, looking up at him. He winked and then stared into the night again, waiting for the black cat while it climbed up to him. When it reached the window sill, Harry started to pet it.

The cat let him caress it for a few moments, but then it tried to jump into Harry's room. 'Harry' stopped it with his hands.

"Don't turn back, Reg," he said. "I'm sure there are guards in the garden. We would not like to be seen."

The cat purred under his fingers.

"Don't worry. They will come and take me away," 'Harry' said while looking to the stars. "They will be here in a few nights. Until then we have time. And after that, I'm sure they will bring me to Grimmauld Place. You just have to stay hidden until I can let you in."

The cat rubbed its head on his hand.

"I will have to carry you in, because you won't find it alone, but that's alright. I will do it as soon as everyone is asleep on my first night there. The Fidelius might stop you from finding it and I from speaking about it, but you know where it should be and I won't have to speak about it to bring you in. Just be ready. I think you will see me arrive. Wait for me there."

The cat purred again, then it stood up and left him the same way it had slipped in. 'Harry' grinned.

The Ministry would be very sorry when he was finished with them - very, very sorry…