Unofficial Portkey Archive

Last Son Of Krypton

A Harry Potter/ Superman/Smallville/ crossover/fusion/whatever

By Dragonlord

Author's notes:

1) This goes (again) for to the people at the Portkey Chat, meaning (author takes a big breath): Bristar, Max, Aurora, Darkstar, Hallie, Misstake, Babygrrl, Thelvyn, Sky is Blue, XxKkAnGxX, Ryoko Blue, Heaven, Lady Slytherin, Countess (aka 714), Hermione QoH, Evil Hermione, Tuxedo Kamen, Mola and all the others.

To all of you, thank you for those wonderful days and nights of friendship and laughter that will never be forgotten.

YOU ARE THE BEST!! X2!!!

And of course special thanks for Nappa and Dauphin that made this possible. From the heart, thank you both!

2) Well I wanted to post more but as I'm off to Paris in three hours it will not be possible. This said I hope to be able to post the rest soon, even if I don't have the slightest idea how I'm gonna do it ^_^;

3) Thanks a lot to those who reviewed (!!!) I will answer each review when I post next part. Sadly I'm not able to do so now but, fear not, I will be able to do it next time. I promise it!

And with this said on with the show!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the sole property of J.K.Rowling. Superman is born out of the minds of Joe Shuster and Jerry Spiegel and all rights are recognized, so if you want to sue me go ahead!

Lose you time.

Otherwise C&C welcome! (and don't forget to review ^_^)

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Chapter two: Summer of discoveries

Part 1.2.

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Dumbledore departed the next morning, a summons from the Ministry having forced him to leave Harry and the rest of the clan at the manor.

Fawkes the Phoenix remained with Harry, the result of one of the strangest moments of Harry's life.

Albus had moved outside the manor, the whole family following him as Fawkes stayed perched upon Harry's shoulder, still releasing from time to time notes that could only be magical. Then, once they were out of the boundary of the wards protecting the home (in the glade where he and Amanda had first appeared), Dumbledore had turned and faced the group gathered there, raising his arm to signal for Fawkes to come to him.

In that moment Fawkes pronounced a note, a single flawless note that hung in the air like the sound of a crystal bell, beautiful and haunting.

It was like an explanation.

An excuse.

Albus remained silent for a while, a small sad smile gracing his lips as the morning sun made his hair seem like living silver, both the sun and the smile on his face making him look like a King of times long gone. He nodded once and barely whispered "I understand" before he apparated away, the usual "Pop!" following the rushing of the air in the spot where the old wizard had been standing.

From that day on, Fawkes never left Harry's side, not even for a few moments.

You could always find the two of them together, moving through the house or going to meals. When Harry mounted his broom and flew, a streak of gold and red easily matching Harry in speed raced with him in the lake and around grounds of the manor. It was indeed a sight to behold.

Even when Harry went to sleep, the magical songbird remained with him, the teenager lulled to sleep each night by the soft notes the bird produced as he could feel those two tiny, mysterious black eyes look at him, protectively.

Life in the manor continued as if nothing strange had happened. Fawkes remaining with Harry was barely discussed, though Anya was a notable exception, but even the girl who was blunt to a fault let the subject drop quickly.

The same could be said about Harry's incorporation into the headmaster's family. It just happened, and soon everyone in the house (but Harry) acted as if it had always been so.

But still it was a strange situation. At least, to Harry.

The women (except Danielle, Gabrielle and Anya, of course), led by Rowan, as the mothers and care-givers in the clan had taken it as a personal task to dote on him, looking after him in every way, complaining endlessly about the fact that he was underweight, shouting hysterically when the way the Dursleys had treated him the past fourteen years had been discovered and a hundred more things that they swore to correct before he left with Dumbledore.

The men, in other words, the husbands and male relatives of said women, wisely remained out of it.

To Aberforth and company, it was a way of keeping themselves in the good graces of the females. It was even beyond that - an integrated way of life that was the key to success. At least that was what they explained to him.

Harry quite wisely chose to keep his mouth shut.

Then, when Harry had had some free time away from the mothers of the Dumbledore clan, it was their turn to take a keen interest in him, acting as the women did, thinking of him as another member of the family, like a lost son who had finally found his way back to them. They all wanted to teach him something or to talk with him about this and that...

Harry patiently gave them the time to show him with his usual education, not unlike what he had done in the summer before the second year, indulging Mr. Weasley's love for Muggles and their fascinating inventions.

Then of course were the younger generations within the family - Angel, Richie, Gabrielle, Danielle, Liam and the others. More than once, Harry was dragged by them to play games of Quidditch which never seemed to end. A mini league was quickly formed, the adults taking the opportunity to observe the youngsters play and simply be happy... before rushing and taking part in the game.

The only "trouble" occurred when it was time to form the groups.

Each team wanted him as their seeker. In Harry's opinion his skills had been greatly exaggerated, his status as a seeker almost legendary and it was a blushing emerald-eyed teen who had to listen to himself being compared with some of the world's best players.

In the end Harry had agreed to play Seeker for each team in turns, and the debate over the topic (that had seemed about to be reduced to a family fistfight more than once) was ended.

This continued for some days, Harry not seeing Dumbledore often. When he asked Rowan or one of the others he was told not to mind about 'the old fool' too much and enjoy his time before he had to make his trip with the Headmaster.

And if for some reason or another he asked the same question again, said woman (or any of the others, for they all seemed fixated on the same thing) would look at him with narrowed eyes and drag him to the kitchen, muttering that he needed more fat and flesh upon his bones.

And so passed the first week at Black Lake manor.

It was the first afternoon of the second week at Dumbledore's and Harry was in the library, reading a book about the great wizards in history, commenting on it from time to time to Fawkes, perched in his usual spot upon Harry's right shoulder. The bird was looking at the book with the same interest Harry displayed. When consulted the phoenix would remain still for a moment before bobbing his head to show his agreement or otherwise with what Harry was telling him.

This time the book he and Fawkes were reading was interesting, at least more so than the last one, a dusty tome about a hundred ways to cultivate rutabaga in the Bermudas.

It was interesting (Fawkes had agreed with him) but most of the information about old wizards was scarce or had evolved from myths and legends, thus lacking in any information that could be proven true.

What was so curious about it was that if this book was correct, most of the information the wizarding world had about mythical figures like Merlin or the Founders were inaccurate or false, born out of misconceptions and half-truths.

Even the paintings were done using the image accepted as valid by most of the wizarding world, no matter how hardly accurate that conception was. Sometimes those images were used by the very Ministry of Magic as a means of control, not unlike the religions and their church did with the images of their saints and gods.

Misconceptions used to gain more power.

Still Harry was so engrossed in one of the myths regarding the Emrys' life (and supposed death) that he wasn't aware of the figure appearing, shimmering softly in the air as it gained definition and mass, just in front of him.

Rowan looked attentively at the young man reading with the phoenix that had once been her brother's comfortably perched upon his shoulder.

She had been living too many years to be fooled by his apparent child-like size. She had heard, along with everyone else in the house, the praises Albus gave him. Although she had been surprised by his physical appearance at their first meeting, she had soon seen hints of the hero lurking under such a defenseless image, the fact that Fawkes had remained with him definitively hammering that concept deeper into her mind.

It was exceedingly rare for a phoenix to choose a human as its partner, but even rarer for that phoenix, once bonded, to pass to another if its previous master was still alive. Albus's tales about Harry's adventures had been so wild, and she had been ready to dismiss most of them as pure fantasy...

Until that morning when Fawkes made his choice. Since then she had believed that the phoenix had cried for him, something not unheard of but so rare that it was considered miraculous. Only for those worthy enough would a phoenix shed its tears and those were always men and women with a great destiny ahead of them.

But despite being blessed with such gifts, fate had been harsh on him, and the results were clear when you knew where to look.

Even when he was having fun, like in one of the numerous Quidditch matches he had taken part in since arriving, there was always some place in his eyes where joy couldn't penetrate totally, or the barely noticeable flinch and tensing of his body whenever he heard a suspicious sound.

In addition to that, the mother in her recognized also the love-starved child who was buried under the weight of the duty thrown upon him and his self-inflicted culpability. That was why she and the other women of the household had taken pains to pamper him, despite his protests... and yet, even with all their effort, something in Harry wasn't ready to give in to their unconditional love.

She only hoped that Albus could do something about that.

"Harry, dear?" she asked gently, almost laughing as the boy nearly sprang from his seat, a startled expression crossing his face. His eyes darted wildly around before focusing on the source of the voice. Fawkes' reaction wasn't any better - his wings spreading wide due to Harry's surprised jump. The phoenix hovered a moment before settling back on his human perch and throwing her a dark look.

Rowan chuckled, making Harry even more confused. It was clear he wasn't used to being startled or surprised. She supposed that years of fighting the dark forces had somehow instilled some sort of danger-sense - self-preservation - in him. She sighed inwardly, content. They must be doing a good work to for him to relax to that point.

"Sorry to interrupt you, dear..." she excused herself. "But Albus is back from the Ministry and needs to see you."

"He's back?" asked Harry as Fawkes trilled happily.

Rowan smiled, petting the phoenix gently, a gesture the bird returned eagerly, rubbing its head against that hand.

"Yes, he's back, even if we wonder why the Ministry needed him for so many days."

Harry frowned. "Well, I suppose that if there had been any problem he would have told us sooner."

Rowan nodded. "You're right. Now come with me - we must not make my brother wait."

Harry nodded and took her hand, the room fading for a minute as they reappeared in front of a dark door. Rowan then moved and without bothering to knock at the door, opened it, revealing the smiling face of Dumbledore.

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Once Rowan had exchanged some words with her brother, she left, muttering something about making lunch.

Once she was out of the room, Harry faced the old headmaster, who gestured to him to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk. As for Fawkes…The phoenix jumped happily from Harry's shoulder and landed upon the desk near Dumbledore who started to pet him, clearly pleasing the bird.

As he sat, Harry reflected that it was the first time that he had ever entered into Albus's personal chambers. Now, finally within it, Harry found that it had a more than marked resemblance with the headmaster's office back at Hogwarts, which wasn't surprising taking in consideration Dumbledore's feelings towards the magical school.

This room wasn't circular, but was clearly bigger, the paintings of past headmasters and headmistresses missing from the walls. Instead, decorating them were Muggle paintings with such skill and realism exhibited in them that he concluded that they could only be the most expensive of all masterpieces. He could even recognize some of the names in the paintings, which was enough to make him hold his breath, in fear of damaging them.

Van Gogh, Picasso, Velazquez, Leonardo Da Vinci, Michelangelo, Sezanne and many, many others.

Priceless.

Books and foreign machines whose function he couldn't even begin to guess, astronomical charts, even some crystal cases containing strange items, most looking as if they had come out of some archeological discovery site were scattered around the room. Masks of what he supposed were African tribesmen displayed curious motifs upon their black surface.

But what really filled the room were the multitude of CD cases and the more than impressive sound system installed in the room. From what Harry could see, almost every sort of music was represented (Jim would have been drooling) but the one that was clearly enough Dumbledore's favorite was chamber music, something that his chocolate frog card had already advertised.

The familiar fireplace had several seats and couches near it and a door, near the desk, connected with what he supposed was his sleeping quarters. Four windows, one of them near the desk, allowed the light of the day to stream upon the polished surface of the desk.

It was more like entering a museum than some living chambers, but contrary from what could be felt in those temple of the human art Dumbledore's personal room had a feeling of vitality even if, by what harry knew, Dumbledore rarely stepped in the manor and even less in this room.

"Before we begin..." Albus's voice drew Harry's attention back to him. Then the headmaster presented a folder, but instead of handing it to the teenager, he left it resting on the desk. Harry looked from the folder to Dumbledore, not sure of what to do or say. "I wish to excuse myself. I wasn't here the past few days as was my intention... Still I have the documents concerning the adoption ready. I only need a signature from you and we can have the issue concluded quickly."

"Only a... signature? That's all you need?" he asked, suddenly feeling uneasy.

Dumbledore nodded and looked him straight in the eyes. "Before you sign, Harry, I want to ask you a question. And I need an honest answer: do you really want to become a part of this family?"

Harry was about to say yes but then remembered something, or rather yet someone.

Dumbledore, with his whole attention focused on Harry, noticed that right away. "What is it, Harry?"

Harry looked at his hands before looking up, the emerald pools troubled. "Sirius."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair even as Fawkes threw a questioning look at Harry.

"I see." was the simple comment Albus gave and Harry felt compelled to explain himself

"I mean he wanted me to go and live with him when he was cleared of his guilt at least... he looked so happy when I told him that I would love to, just before Wormtail escaped, and now..."

"And now you feel like you are betraying him?" concluded the headmaster.

Harry nodded. "More or less... I wish I could tell him though."

Dumbledore nodded, his lips turning up in a smile. "I believe that can be arranged. " Then he turned towards the door adjacent to the room. "You may come in."

The door opened and a man stepped through it.

Tall, with long dark hair and a goatee, and black eyes that sometimes showed what twelve years in Azkaban could do to a human being - even if he was innocent - Sirius Black stood like a wolf among sheep.

With a cry of pure joy Harry flung himself into his godfather's waiting arms, appearances be damned. The last time they had seen each other was the night that had followed the disaster known as the Third Task and while Sirius had promised to see him later, that had been impossible...

Until now.

They broke their embrace soon enough and looked at each other. Harry knew how he looked, as though he was still trapped in the body of his fourteen-year-old body when soon he would be celebrating his sixteenth birthday, but Sirius looked very different.

For starters, he looked healthy, more so than in the few times they had seen each other during the fourth year. As if to emphasise his healthy condition, Sirius's skin was a tanned brown and while hugging him, Harry could feel the muscles hidden by his dark robes. His dark brown eyes now gleamed, new youth flowing in them along with another set of worries, worries that Harry knew had much to do with him.

"You look good, Harry." said Sirius, giving him a toothy grin and making Harry laugh.

Harry mock-scowled at him. "Don't lie, Sirius. I know how I look." Then he lightly patted his godfather on the arm as he smiled. "You, on the other hand, look good!"

Sirius looked embarrassed. "Well, Remus convinced me that I had to let go of my convict looks and start taking care of myself. Bloody Moony couldn't keep his long nose out of it."

Harry laughed. "Well, he did the right thing." Then he sobered a little. "I missed you, Sirius. Letters aren't enough."

"I know, Harry," he said as he ruffled his godson's wild midnight hair

"Professor, could you?" he asked, looking at the headmaster.

Dumbledore smiled. "Of course. I think you will be comfortable in the room." He gestured to the room where Sirius had been waiting in. "I have to see to some details, so take your time."

Sirus nodded, grateful. "Thank you," he said.

Then with his hand upon one of his godson's shoulders, they moved into the adjoining room.

Harry turned and gestured to Fawkes, that was by now moving past the table, looking at some things that he found interesting. But as soon as Harry had made the gesture, Fawkes moved through the air, his wings taking him easily to Harry's shoulders, head rubbing the boy's cheek as it trilled a cheery tune.

Harry laughed (an expression shared by Dumbledore) but Sirius looked surprised. Noticing this, Dumbledore gestured to the pair.

"Your godson has a new companion, Sirius. I suggest that you get used to it as they seem glued to each other." Then he paused, his face growing thoughtful. "Brings back old memories. Doesn't it, Sirius?"

Sirius nodded. "Yes, it does." He said, his voice thick.

Dumbledore smiled kindly.

"Take all the time you need."

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Once inside of the room, they stopped and faced each other.

"What did he mean just now? Why does it bring back old memories?" asked Harry as he rubbed a spot on Fawkes' plumage.

Sirius swallowed. "Exactly what he said. Old memories. You can't remember that, but when you were still a baby you used to play with this phoenix."

"Really?" asked Harry as he looked at the gold and crimson bird with naked surprise in his emerald eyes.

His godfather nodded. "Yes. You two were always playing together when I visited your parents. It was the day that I convinced them about switching Secret Keepers."

With those words Sirius looked down, that cursed knowledge burning clearly in his eyes. Harry remained silent but patted his godfather's arm in a gesture of understanding. Fawkes, sensing the somber mood, let out a string of hope-lifting tunes that made the two humans smile.

Harry looked at his godfather. "I know that I can't do much about all the guilt you have because of what happened with my parents but I'm sure they never blamed you."

Sirius looked at him, an unreadable expression in his dark eyes.

"And I know that if they were able to tell you, they would say that they are proud of what you are doing and happy that you are here to look after me."

"Thanks." said Sirius, a small smile forming on his face.

"So," Harry began, "What are you doing here? I thought that you were on one of those missions for Dumbledore. Why are you here now?"

Sirius nodded. "You're right I was on one of those errands. I..." he paused as if considering something. "My main role is to work as a link between the different members of the Order. We have to stand united when Voldemort attacks."

"But so far... there has been nothing, right?"

Sirius nodded ruefully. "And it scares me, Harry. It's been more than a year since his Rising and so far there's been nothing, not even a trace of detected movement amongst those that we know are Death Eaters..."

"Like Lucius Malfoy."

"Yeah, like Malfoy." Sirius conceded, the name pronounced with pure venom. "There has been nothing but that stunt he tried concerning you, but even that was significant. Believing that Voldemort will keep quiet is a good way to end up dead... or worse."

Harry couldn't agree more.

"And yet," said Sirius, "I would thank him for that, if only because his offering prompted Dumbledore to adopt you."

Harry looked away, before returning his eyes to his godfather.

"About that, Sirius, I..."

He would have continued but the older man stopped him with a gesture and an easygoing smile. "Don't worry about that, Harry. In fact I couldn't be more happy about it. To know that you are under Dumbledore's tutelage... to know that he offers you a new family pleases me immensely. I could ask for no better choice."

"But Sirius! What about..." Harry tried to protest

"I heard your conversation with Dumbledore." That shut Harry's mouth up. "And while I understand your hesitation, I want you to know that you are not betraying me."

He paused, his smile widening. "This doesn't mean that one day we couldn't live together as I wanted... it just means that you will have two families who will love and care for you." Again there was a pause - this one longer than the previous one. "You do like Dumbledore's family, right?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I like them. Sometimes I'm amazed at how they accepted me so quickly, as if I had always been a part of the family." His face broke into a grin. "I've already been invited to go to France and Holland after I return from my trip with Dumbledore."

Sirius nodded, smiling in answer to Harry. "I know I shouldn't say this but I'm glad the Dursleys kicked you out of that place. I would go and hug Petunia if only to thank her for sparing you from their company from now on."

Harry nodded. "That's a relief. I wasn't looking forward to another summer of imposed diet as Dudley tries to lose weight."

Sirius laughed. "I remember you telling me that. I still find it difficult to believe that someone related to Lily can be so... unlike her."

"You know I often wondered about that..." said Harry firmly. "And to me they can't be related to mom. It's not possible... What I'm trying to say is that if I had been able to chose I would have you as my sole living relative. You're like a father to me Sirius, never forget that."

Sirius nodded, his eyes shining with unshed tears, his face flushed. "I know. I feel likewise and I know that I couldn't be more proud of you even if you had been my own son."

He paused, a moment he took to compose himself again and taking hold upon his emotions. "Harry, my time here is limited. Albus sort of guessed that you would have second thoughts about his offer and called me here. You becoming part of this family does not change anything, not even how I feel towards you. When Albus told me that he was thinking of adopting you, the first thing I felt was relief."

Once again, Sirius paused, looking at his godson intently.

"Harry... Voldemort wants you dead. I don't know why - I only know that something in you poses a threat to him and Voldemort will stop at nothing until he has killed you. I know the extent of your courage better than most but I also know that you aren't ready to face him. That's why I felt so relieved that Dumbledore is going to become your legal guardian."

"But..." Harry tried to protest but was stalled by Sirius, a gentle squeeze of his shoulder silencing him. Sirius' dark eyes were almost luminous in the dim room.

"You may not be ready to face the Dark Lord now, but one day you will be. Until then it's my mission, mine and everybody's else, to do what it takes to allow you to grow in your power, to be able to take on Voldemort and win. But this is not the moment. Live, grow stronger and fight another day. That must be your priority."

"Make the love people give you your strength. That's the one thing Voldemort can't fight; the bonds love gives us. Learn from those that love you, Harry, learn from Dumbledore. Accept his proposal. I will feel safer if I know that you are his charge and under his direct protection."

Sirius let out a sad sigh. "Sometimes I wish I had changed your parents' mind and asked Dumbledore to act as the Secret Keeper. I know they would still be among us if that had been so."

With another sigh (this one longer) Sirius's face split into a grin that took years from his face, making Harry remember that his godfather had once been a Marauder, just as the older man ruffled his already wild hair once again.

"Now, tell me, how did your year go?"

It was with a big smile that Harry started to tell his tale.

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"What do I have to do?"

Dumbledore nodded as he handed Harry a handful of papers that both Sirius and the teenage boy looked at immediately, Sirius peeking over Harry's shoulder.

"Nothing much, Harry," was Dumbledore's answer. "You can think of it as a Muggle contract where you only have to sign after reading the fine print. Of course for this kind of document we don't use ink as our Muggle friends do; instead, you have to sign with your wand."

Harry's eyes rose from looking at the text to fixate on Albus' blue ones. "My wand? How?"

Dumbledore smiled thinly. "First end your reading, Harry. Then I and Sirius will answer your questions."

Harry nodded and did as he was told, his eyes reading the small spider-like calligraphy quickly, taking in the whole text in a short time. Once that was done he looked up, Sirius moving to one side of the table placed between Harry and Dumbledore.

"Do you have any doubt about it, Harry?"

Said teenager shook his head, a clear sign that it wasn't so. Still something seemed odd in the last paragraphs of the text. Knowing that the old wizard would like to know whatever doubt he had, the young wizard spoke.

"I don't have any doubt, sir..." he started, faltering as he searched for the right words to say.

"But?" was the gentle prodding.

Harry's eyes quickly moved back to the parts that puzzled him.

"It's just that…in some places it seems almost as if the person who wrote this wanted to - I may be wrong - scare me?"

Sirius blinked before nodding in approval and shooting a questioning glance at the headmaster.

Dumbledore's smile widened slightly. "Good, good. Very perceptive of you, Harry. And yes, you are right. This document was purposely written to make you doubt your decision. You can thank our dear Minister Fudge for that detail."

"What? What does Fudge have to do with this?" asked Sirius, alarmed.

"Much. As I suppose Harry has told you about the days I have been delayed at the Ministry. The reason was that once there one of my contacts warned me that Fudge could be preparing something to prevent Harry from becoming part of my family and I his direct guardian."

"What did he do?" asked Harry, a dangerous glint in his green eyes.

"Ah, I think the question would be what he tried to do. You see, Fudge had promised Lucius Malfoy your custody. That was before I interfered and presented myself as a possible candidate and as such foiled the plans of our minister."

Sirius's knuckles popped due to the pressure in his fist. Looking at him, Harry knew that if he had been in his animagus form, Snuffle's hackles would have risen and he would be growling. Anyway Sirius looked like if he was ready to chew nails and spit out clips.

"How can he do it? Doesn't he know that Lucius is a Death Eater!?"

Dumbleore's smile faded as if he was sharing Sirius's anger. Harry swallowed, made uncomfortable by the palpable anger in and between the two adults. If looks could kill, Fudge, had he been present, would already be six feet underground.

"Oh, he knows that very well, Sirius. Fudge is a good example of how the Ministry is, corrupted and rotten, ready to look away when it suits the needs of those in power. Fudge will forget everything dark in Lucius as long as he gives him money to finance his political career, at the same time gaining followers amongst the pure blooded families... many of those under Voldemort's shadow."

Dumbledore sighed, suddenly looking very old and frail, even if his eyes still exuded an inner strength that many would want to have

"It took me this long to win my battle with Fudge and those on his side. It was a rather close shave but I managed it. Still it didn't bring me any joy, not even knowing what a loss it will be to Fudge's public image. It was a shameful moment in the history of the Ministry of Magic and I fear that we are seeing the end of it if we don't manage to chase Cornelius from his position."

A pregnant pause followed that announcement, the great wizard's frustration evident. "Fudge did not even bother to hide that he was following Lucius' orders, or that, if he was so stubborn, it was only because it would grant him the favor of those influential enough to help him keep the Ministry's power. This can lead us to our doom if the corruption in the British Ministry of Magic spreads... And with Voldemort working in the shadows we can but suppose that it may already be so."

Dumbledore closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "Tom's silence is what really bothers me. His eyes opened and he looked at Harry. "Did you have any dream this year? Any pain in your scar? Anything at all?"

Harry denied those questions with a small shake of his head. "No, professor. Nothing. I would have told you if there was." He paused. "And to be honest, sometimes that bothers me."

Dumbledore nodded. "I had thought as much..." his eyes narrowed. Both Harry and his godfather realized that something must be on the older wizard's mind. For a moment it seemed that Albus was about to say something but in the end it was clear that whatever the old wizard was thinking about would remain secret.

For now.

A smile reappearing upon his aged face, Dumbledore gestured towards the white papers in Harry's hands. "Now, why don't we end this? I think you will like to know that Fudge will be informed of it the second after your signature is put upon it. Highly unpleasant for him, I would say."

Grinning, (an expression shared by the older wizard) Harry simply said; "What do I have to do?"

"Look at the end of the last page." was the simple instruction that Harry followed, immediately finding an empty space that he had ignored in his previous reading; a simple single golden line where he supposed his signature was to be.

Harry looked at Dumbledore and Sirius, waiting for further instructions. "Now take your wand and move its tip on the golden line thinking about your name, about who you are, anything that concerns you."

Harry nodded and gathering his thoughts, drew the wand from one of his pockets. With barely a shaking hand Harry touched the left extreme of the line and slowly moved its tip upon its whole length.

It was a strange sensation, almost as if he could feel his thoughts flowing through his wand and projected onto the paper alongside its magic. For a moment he pondered if that was what you felt when you used a pensieve.

As he considered it, red lines of light flew from the wand, softly spinning and etching themselves in the paper, almost as if the red light was becoming a part of it, forming letters that contrasted with the blue ink used in it.

There, like words made of fire, shifting between red, yellow and orange, were the two words that composed his name

Harry Potter

As the last letter settled in, the white pages burst into a white light before the letters on the few pages that composed it started fading. Under Harry's eyes the words disappeared totally, leaving but empty pages in his hands.

And then, to increase his astonishment the pages themselves started to loose cohesion, slipping through his fingers in a cloud of white shimmering dots that too, soon enough, disappeared into the air.

If that wasn't enough a burning sensation came to life on the back of his right hand, drawing his attention immediately to that spot.

Upon his skin Harry could see a circle forming, roughly the size of a galleon, blue neon light moving as if it was liquid.

Once the circle was completed it filled with a darker kind of blue as seven silvery stars appeared in the background, following the limits marked by the shimmering circle.

Then in a flash, blue flames erupted, surrounding his hand in blue flames that faded as quickly as they appeared. Once they were gone, Harry looked at his hand and, amongst the seven star-shaped dots, a blue fire could be seen, the color flaring between silvery white to almost black blue and all the shades in between.

Harry was still reeling from the appearance of the strange symbol on his hand when Fawkes let out a note of pure triumph, a sound so powerful that for a moment Harry expected the room to be filled with a thousand threads of golden light, just like the time he had dueled Voldemort with their brother wands.

As if to answer Fawkes' call the tattoo glowed brightly for a moment more, literally exploding, and creating a true blue flame that tainted everything in Harry's sight a silvery blue, his whole body encompassed within the flame before it faded, the tattoo following suit however, with a slower pace, allowing the teenager to see the lines lighten before disappearing completely.

Once it was gone, there was nothing to indicate that barely seconds before a glowing sign of a blue fire surrounded with seven stars had been present, free of any hiding to those looking. Nor that it had exploded in cobalt fires that had turned him into a living torch of blue light.

Shaking slightly, his fingers touched the spot where just moments before the sign had been present, his sense of touch telling him nothing. To his senses only normal skin could be found.

Harry's eyes snapped towards Dumbledore, who was smiling - a huge smile that showed his teeth, white as pearls. In any other time that would have made Harry smile back, but right then his mind was too focused on its anger and confusion for not having been told what would happen, making him glare at the older wizard.

A quick glance told him what he suspected. Sirius didn't seem too concerned, rather only surprised as hell and even a little pale, but not too much. Still he took care to notice that Sirius didn't seem angry or even alarmed, so it was safe to guess that nothing "wrong" had happened.

But was it too much to ask to be warned if such a thing was to happen? He was really getting tired of being left in the dark.

"Okay. Out with it. What. Was. That?" he asked, his voice tight with anger and a large dose of frustration.

"Nothing that you have to worry about, Harry," said Dumbledore, the smoldering look that Harry threw him hint enough that he had better keep talking. "It was just the physical manifestation of your addition to the family."

"Is it too much to ask for a complete explanation?" pressed Harry. His eyes moved to his godfather. "Is it too much?"

Sirius shook his head. "No, Harry, it's just..." he sighed. "I didn't know it was going to happen like that but it's something that I knew about."

Harry snorted, his patience clearly drawing thin. " What was that? What was all that light about?"

Sirius barely glanced at Dumbledore before speaking. "It's a sign of belonging, a way for you to prove that you are a part of your family. Nothing more."

Harry blinked, his eyes resting for a moment on the spot the mark had been minutes ago. "A little more information?"

Sirius shrugged. "Nowadays it only appears for the oldest of the families in the wizarding world. And when I say old, I mean really old. What we know of those marks are but from legend and myths. Millenniums ago almost all families -clans- used them, making its appearance very common, but now it's very rare, a sign of prestige, more even than all that purity of the blood rubbish."

"When you say old, just how old are you talking about?" asked Harry, now interested even if still somewhat peeved by being in the dark about the appearance of the light.

"I think I can answer that, Sirius." replied Dumbledore's calm voice, two sets of eyes moving to him. "When Sirius said old, he means that not even the line of the Founders, if it existed still, would have it appear. Tom Riddle for instance, even as the Heir of Slytherin doesn't have such an identification... something that he always resented."

Harry swallowed even as Dumbledore continued. "As Sirius said, eons ago, when the world was still young and magic was as in another level altogether, that is as alien to us as regular magic is to Muggles now, it was very common, a sign openly showed to prove your allegiance to your family, clan, army, and so on."

Albus sighed. "Now few among our kind have it, as not many Bloodlines have continued unbroken from that age. What information we have right now is hardly reliable, in some cases nothing more than myths and legends. Still one of the few proprieties that we know of are that they appear each time that a new member is included in those families that still have them, be it through marriage or adoption, as long as the bonds are true."

Then Albus looked at the phoenix that kept staring at Harry, the curiosity clear in his twinkling blue eyes. "Now what I don't understand is why Fawkes sang, or why the sign reacted in such a fashion... Perhaps we will never know."

Looking at Harry, Dumbledore started to stroke his beard. "As for what exactly happened, that I can answer, if you really want to know about that."

Harry nodded, making Dumbledore smile slightly. "Very well. The parchment used in the document you just signed was coded to react to any imprint of magic alien to its own. When you projected your thought and emotions about yourself through your own wand, the magic within those papers reacted. Among the numerous charms integrated in it, the more important are three."

"Sparing you from the details, I will say that the first one identifies the magic of the user and compares it with the records at the Ministry of Magic. It's impossible to mistake it for something else as the magic we cast carries its own signature. That, coupled with our wands' unique cores prevents any falsification of the signature, proving that it is you who are agreeing with what the document says."

"The second, and probably the most important, is the one that checks the truthfulness of the signature. In other words, it proves that you have come to your decision by your own free will, that what you are signing for is a decision you have come to by yourself with your mind and will free of any tampering"

"Tampering... you mean, like the Imperius?"

Dumbledore nodded, obviously pleased by Harry's question. "Quite correct, Harry. The charm ingrained in that sort of parchment is powerful enough to detect the traces of the Imperius and other mind-controlling magic

"The third spell is the most simple, even if this is relatively speaking..."

That caught Harry's attention "What do you mean by 'relatively'?"

"Well, this type of parchment, treated with all those spells, is quite rare and expensive, not only because of the complexity of the charms used when it was created but also because it is a special type of paper. It takes time to craft it and make sure that all the types of magic used in the process are in harmony. I would say that this parchment is as rare and expensive as invisibility cloaks, if not more."

Harry blinked, surprised that a mere three pages could be so precious. "Are all the Ministry documents made with this paper?"

Dumbledore laughed, obviously amused. "Oh no! Not at all." He paused, his laughter receding to a mad twinkle in his blue eyes. "It's one of the ways our dear Minister wastes valuable resources. He thought that it was a way to turn the tide to his favor and prove that I had brainwashed you or some nonsense like that... sadly to him, this way has proved beyond a doubt that it's you and you alone who have decided this outcome."

He paused, considering. "This will definitely be another blow to Fudge's credibility... something that can do nothing but help us in the end. It will be up to us to use that to our gain."

"You were talking about a third charm..." Sirius's voice suddenly cut through the silence that followed after that, enticing startled looks from both Harry and Albus. Albus looked sharply at the escaped Azkaban fugitive and then nodded.

"You're right, Sirius," he paused. "The third charm is the one that links the parchment's reactions to the Ministry's archives. As soon as the first and second charms react to your own input of magic, the third one is set off, sending what information is gleaned from them to the ministry, the data becoming known to the whole of it. That of course prevents any outside tampering to occur, guaranteeing its veracity."

Sirius rubbed his chin, deep in thought. "Then, by now, the Ministry will have received that information. Is that wise?"

Dumbledore nodded, conceding Sirius's logic. "Indeed. But that's something that can't be helped. Even before Harry signed the parchment, that information was well known within the circles of the Ministry. Without a doubt, that information must have already reached Voldemort, so there is nothing much we can do for that."

There was another pause, this one more significant as Albus's blue eyes gained a strange glow. "Even so, I have taken steps to prevent Voldemort from using any information to his gain. As long as the summer lasts he will not be able to harm Harry or even find him."

Sirius's eyes narrowed. "You performed the Fidelius." It wasn't a question, but rather an affirmation.

Albus nodded, his gaze holding Sirius even as he leaned back in his chair. "That I did, as soon as Harry stepped onto the Hogwarts Express on his way back to King's Cross." His eyes shifted to Harry. "I'm sorry I didn't consult you but this was also part of the defenses I had thought up concerning you the day I left you under the Dursleys' care... I hope you don't mind."

Harry negated, "I don't. I would have liked it if you had done so but I know that you did it thinking about what was best for me. I would like it, though, if you could keep chances of that happening again as minimal as possible."

Albus nodded. "Sounds fair, and while I understand that need for knowledge you have, I want you to understand that sometimes I will have to keep some of that information you seek from you. What I can say is that when I do it, it will be for your own good." He sighed. "Returning to what concerns the here and now, the security around you will be enhanced and no one but I will know who is your Secret-Keeper. The charm will last until September the First, when you return for your sixth year."

"What until then?" asked Sirius, arms crossed upon his chest, in his 'all-protective godfather mode'.

"Well, what I had already told Harry about. The staff at Hogwarts wanted me to have a full summer out of the walls of the school and I agreed. They have organized a vacation in Brazil, in Rio de Janeiro to be exact, and they want us - Harry and I - to be there for the whole length of the summer, beginning as soon as the legal paperwork was done... what we have just finished with."

"Brazil?" asked Harry, eagerness clear in his voice.

"That's right, Harry," said Dumbledore, answering the boy's smile with one of his own. "The two of us will be alone there for two months and half, more or less. I can foresee that this will be a most interesting trip. I know that you will find it interesting. It will be a new experience for you, entering in contact with a different culture, especially one as lively as the Brazilian one."

He looked at Sirius. "I think you can tell your godson the tales of your adventures in Brazil…don't you think so, Sirius? After all, it was quite an interesting tale."

Harry looked at Sirius who for some unknown reason looked quite embarrassed and extremely flustered.

"You've been to Brazil, Sirius?" Harry's eyes shone with enthusiasm as he started bombarding his godfather with questions. "What is it like? When did you go? What did you see? How are the people there? And...why are you blushing?"

Sirius swallowed nervously under the stare of his godson. "Well, in order…it's... nice, yeah that's it - nice. Before your fourth year. Saw many... things. People are, uh, most welcoming and lastly none of your bloody business!"

Harry laughed, followed by Dumbledore's dry chuckle and humor-laced magical notes coming from Fawkes, all of that making Sirius blush even further. Harry then decided not to ask his godfather about his adventures in Brazil.

Who knows, it could be traumatic for him.

Dumbledore looked at Harry, Sirius and Fawkes and his expression turned mildly serious. "As much as I would want us to continue with this light hearted discussion we have some details concerning the trip that must be resolved."

"Like what?" asked Sirius, feeling better now that the attention had been diverted from him.

"Like security." was the short answer. "I know this will may annoy you, Harry, but will you give me your wand?"

"Um, sure." said the young Gryffindor, pulling it from one of the pockets of his clothing and handing it to the old wizard. "Here."

Dumbledore took it reverently, testing it and its weight, twirling it slowly between his fingers as he examined it. He even moved it through the air and white doves came out of it before they faded quietly in front of a startled Fawkes.

And yet, when Harry expected Dumbledore to give him his wand back, the venerable wizard made it disappear into the depths of his crimson robes.

Harry's eyes widened, his hand rising in reflex. "But Professor---" he started to say but was interrupted.

The headmaster's voice was soft but brook no defiance. "I'm sorry, Harry, but I must keep your wand, at least until September."

"What? Why?"

Albus sighed. "As you know both your wand and Voldemort's have the same core, brother feathers coming from Fawkes. As such they have a link to each other. It's due to that link that Prori Incantatem happens."

"I know that but why can't I have my wand? Why do you have to keep it?"

"Because brother wands react to each other. When you perform magic with it, the magic used unleashes a resonance of sorts that its brother wand reacts to. Now a wizard, one with the knowledge and talent of say, Voldemort, can extract information from that, information such as where that magic had been cast."

"This resonance will bypass the Fidelius charm, making your location easy for Voldemort to trace. Our efforts would be wasted if I allow you to even hold your wand, as simply holding it would produce this resonance, even if on a smaller scale than if you cast spells with it."

"Even holding it causes this signal? How?" was the rushed questions from Harry, clearly a way to deal with the fact that Voldemort could find him even with only holding his wand.

"Tell me Harry, what do you feel when you take hold of your wand? You feel a connection, a surge of warmth and power, right?"

Harry nodded.

"Think of it like the embers of a fire." He started after a moment of searching for an apt comparison. "Left alone, its feeble heat, the magic of the wand, is meaningless. Now, when you hold your wand those embers return to life, bursting into flames fuelled by your own magic. That spark that you feel each time you touch your wand, that comforting sensation is the embers returning to life."

"You feel the heat of the flames, the magic of the wand that is awakened. This fire roars to life each time you cast a spell, making its heat burst free. This is easy to notice with the correct senses. You see it with your eyes, you hear it with your ears and in some years you may even taste the magic that is cast by the wand."

"But the interesting thing about brother wands is that when one comes to life the other feels it... if you know what to look and search for. I don't have a doubt that in the years Tom Riddle passed learning the Dark Arts before he emerged as Lord Voldemort that skill was amongst those he mastered."

Albus looked gravely at Harry before resuming his speech. "Do you understand why I have to keep you away from your wand? I do not do this because of some unfounded whim I have. I assure you that this is only for your own good and I need you to trust me in this."

Sirius nodded, clearly following the headmaster's logic. "I would feel better if I know that Voldemort has one less means to find you."

Harry sighed, clearly annoyed but understanding the worry of the adults. "Oh, all right... I know this is something I can't win."

Sirius chuckled before addressing Dumbledore. "What about the costs of the trip? I want to be sure that Harry will lack nothing that money can buy."

Albus's smile widened slightly, appreciating Sirius's way to divert the conversation to more pleasant matters. "I assure you, Sirius, that Harry will have everything he needs and some more. As part of Harry entering the family register he has been designated the heir of my personal fortune and to part of the Clan's. Even if Harry didn't have his own money he would have mine."

His smile widened "And I suppose that yours too, am I wrong, Sirius?"

"Sirius?" asked Harry, humbled and somewhat embarrassed to know that he was Dumbledore's heir. If that wasn't enough now he had discovered that he was also heir to Sirius' fortune.

Harry wasn't the only one embarrassed - Sirius's flushed face was proof enough. "Well, that is, it's not as if I have a use for my money... and I've ensured that at least Harry would have that if something happens."

Harry's eyes gleamed dangerously. "That will never happen! I won't allow it!"

Sirius waved his hands, palms in defensive position. "Whoa, easy, tiger! I know that... and be sure that I will do my best to prevent that. But to be prepared for everything is hardly foolish or dim-witted. It's... something that must be done."

Harry breathed deeply, controlling the anger that had rushed through his system at the thought that something could happen to Sirius. His godfather was right, he knew… that and the fact that his cry that he would not allow any harm to happen to Sirius was an empty vow.

He had no control of that, it was like wanting to change the course of rivers... impossible.

But that didn't mean that he had to like it.

Sighing, Harry turned to Dumbledore, putting the tidbit that he was the heir of the two older men aside in a dark corner of his mind where he would forget about it. Hopefully.

"Is there anything else we have to discuss? Anything I should know concerning the trip?"

Dumbledore's silence lasted a short moment "Only details of unimportance. We depart from here at eleven o'clock tomorrow, taking the flight at twelve past thirty at the airport of Heathrow. That should give us time enough to bid farewell to the rest of the family."

"Why use the Muggle transport?" asked Sirius, not too surprised by that. "Wouldn't it be easier, not to say more comfortable and quicker, to use wizarding ways of travel?"

Dumbledore nodded curtly. "It may be so, but it's easier to blend into Muggles, giving us another way to make things difficult for Tom. We will not enter into contact with the wizarding community in Rio; we're aiming for discretion while having a good time. Merlin knows that it's been a long time since the last time I had some free time."

His gaze softened as his attention shifted to Harry. "You don't need to pack anything, Harry, that will be taken care of once we reach Rio. Just take what you think you will need..."

"What about Fawkes?" asked Harry as he looked at his winged friend "I don't know if he is going to come with me, or even want to."

The Hogwarts headmaster chuckled at that, his fingers caressing the firebird, which purred in obvious pleasure when the old wizard touched a particular spot between its feathers.

"If he wants to come with us, nothing will stop Fawkes, Harry. Still a little charm to disguise him from Muggles will be enough, should he decide to do so. As for the transport that's something that he will take care of himself. So don't worry about it. Worry about enjoying this to the fullest."

Dumbledore stopped, as if suddenly remembering something, the twinkle in his eyes lessening.

"Oh dear," he muttered as he stroked his beard. "I think that Rowan is not going to be pleased..."

Dread filled Harry, his heart missing a beat even as Sirius threw the two of them a doubtful look. "What? Why?"

With his face straight and looking as though if the world had come to an end, Dumbledore answered, shivering.

"We're late for lunch."

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Forty-eight hours later...

Rio de Janeiro

The old man with the long silvery beard and the teenager with wild black hair entered the lobby of the Copacabana Palace Hotel, immediately moving towards the reception counter where one of the receptionists immediately greeted them.

The man in charge of the staff at the reception of the hotel looked at the duo facing him. It was strange to see a man so old there (even if they were used to elderly customers) but something was strange about the silver bearded man.

He had drawn the attention of several people, men and women of all ages and races, as soon as he had came in through the main entrance, and crossed the lobby in the company of the younger boy who, also strangely, held a green feathered parrot in a cage, handling it with care. The bird seemed quite pleased, its head moving continuously as if taking in the sights.

Despite his apparent age the old man had moved with the same decision and energy a much younger man would display, as well as giving off something that made all those that looked at him feel good within.

"Yes, sir?" asked the deeply tanned man with all the respect he could muster, eliciting a benevolent smile from the elderly gentleman that somehow made the man feel a pleasant warmth spread through his body.

"Hello, young man. I think I have a deluxe room reserved for me and my grandson."

"Under which name, sir?" asked the man, his fingers moving quickly across the keyboard as he accessed the reservation menu.

"Oh, you will find my reservation under the name of Albus Dumbledore."

The man quickly pulled out the data and in a few moments the desired information was downloaded.

"Yes, reservations for a deluxe room with two beds. Duration: three months. I will need an identity card or any other document that could identify you, sir."

Dumbledore's smile grew, his hand moving towards one of his pockets. "But of course. Here you are." And with those simple words, he presented his British passport. The man quickly checked it and typed more information before giving it back.

"All seems to be in order sir." He gestured to the bellboy in waiting that moved immediately and, with expertise born out of habit, grabbed the few suitcases the pair had with them before awaiting further orders.

"Lead this gentlemen to the room 185." The young man in the hotel's uniform nodded, awaiting for the clients to finish with his boss.

Said man returned his attention to his customers. "I wish you a enjoyable stay at our hotel. In case you need anything our staff is at your disposition twenty-four hours a day. This said, enjoy your time in our charming city!"

The old man nodded as he took the keys offered by the receptionist, his smile never leaving his wrinkled face and the man was once again assaulted by the feeling of goodness that this old man seemed to exude.

He continued to look at the old man and his grandson (and their bird) as they followed the bellboy and entered the elevator, the closing doors hiding them from view.

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Shortly after, Harry, Dumbledore and Fawkes found themselves in their room, the old wizard leaving Harry the time to admire the suite before unpacking and moving on to the planned journey for the day. With a smile he left Harry behind, moving to the balcony and taking Fawkes with him, giving Harry time to get used to the new environment.

Said teen wasn't really aware of that as he couldn't stop looking at the room, easily one of the most luxurious places he had ever seen. The only one that could compare to it (and even surpass it) was the one at the manor.

Sure, the rooms in Gryffindor Tower were a big improvement from the cupboard under the stairs at Privet Drive, but this was something else, clearly more stylish and opulent.

The room was spacious with twin beds covered with a soft material that seemed to be made of silk. Dark crimson and golden carpets of exquisite taste, some paintings here and there to contrast with the white walls decorated the room, and the high ceilings made him feel as though he was back in a smaller and more private version of the Great Hall. Tasteful curtains led to the balcony with (from what he could see from within the room) a view of the nearby beach of white sands and many more details that screamed "expensive as hell".

In fact, since they had arrived in Rio, Harry had found himself captivated by everything he saw, so different from the sights of Britain and Scotland he was so used to.

The sun seemed everywhere, the temperature high but not unpleasant even if he wasn't used to it, the sea of a thousand shades of blue that matched the cloudless sky. The vegetation was alluring to him, unfamiliar and calling to him with a thousand unknown fragrances. The sound of the city, the laughter and distant sound of drums, never stopped.

Even as he and Dumbledore alighted from the cab, his eyes wandered hungrily around him, taking in everything new and, amongst which was the near-perfection of forms in the men and women... their bodies well toned and tanned to the point that it was hard to tell them apart from the people with darker skin (as if he cared about that to start with!).

The way they moved and spoke the exotic Portuguese was alluring.

Everywhere he looked, everything he saw, all he perceived seemed to be a witness to sensuality, a calling for the delectation of all the senses in the human body... even the caress of the wind upon his pale skin was pleasant, sensual in its feather-like quality.

He was called back from his reverie by Dumbledore's voice. "Harry! Come here!"

Harry rushed to the balcony, noticing how spacious it was. Made entirely of marble and white stone, a couple of chairs and a table occupied part of the space - without a doubt for those who wished to take breakfast, lunch or dinner with a view of the city and the always lively beaches of Copacabana.

"Enjoying the view, Harry?" asked Dumbledore, a teasing smile addressed to the young boy who blushed slightly.

"Yes, sir," he answered, noticing that Fawkes was now out of his cage and also enjoying the view. The illusion of the parrot was keyed to anyone looking at the magical bird... anyone but him and the headmaster.

"Harry..." said Dumbledore, his voice mockingly serious. "I have told you that you don't have to call me that way anymore."

Harry sighed, even as he smiled, embarrassed. "I know. But I can't help it. I'm too used to calling you so, professor."

Dumbledore fingered his long beard. "Mmm...very well then. Just remember that now you are a part of my family, so there is no need to be so formal, my boy. You seem to be interested in what you have seen so far, so I take it that you are liking Brazil?"

Harry nodded, smiling. "Very much! It would be difficult not to, professor."

Albus laughed. "Good, very good. Well then, we will have to be sure that you get to like it more. But first of all - I did promise Rowan, Lila, Amanda, Aberforth and the others that I would buy you some clothes. I wouldn't see the end of it if I didn't do as promised. So why don't we get some rest and then some Muggle clothing? Heavens knows that I need some myself."

Harry grinned. Then an unpleasant notion crossed his mind.

"Sir..."

"Um?"

"Have you ever bought Muggle clothes?" he asked with some apprehension, memories of his one time at the Quidditch World Cup popping up in his mind and how, and what wizards considered proper clothing to pass unseen among common humans.

It wasn't pretty.

Knowing Dumbledore's tastes for weird socks and even weirder motifs on them it could be a new sort of (unwanted) experience to go out with the old wizard through the streets of Rio de Janeiro.

As if reading his mind, Dumbledore laughed. "Don't worry, Harry, I will not embarrass you with my taste for bright socks. I have also orders not to embarrass you with my tastes, under the threat of bloody harm from the female part of the family."

"Umm... I'm sorry to hear that, professor... said Harry sheepishly.

Albus waved off his concerns. "As I said, there's nothing to worry about my boy. I assure you!" The he sighed sadly. "Though I wanted to try my new trunks!"

"New... trunks?" asked Harry, not really knowing if asking was a good idea.

Dumbledore sighed again even if his eyes were twinkling. "Yes... Red with green ducks and violet dots. I really wanted to try them on. Oh well... I will have to excuse myself to Dobby and Winky when we return to Hogwarts."

Harry blinked "Uh... Dobby and Winky?

Uh-oh.

"Of course!" said Dumbledore, grinning. "I find the taste of the House elves refreshing. Don't you?"

Harry grimaced. "With all due respect, I think I will pass from answering."

That made Albus laugh again. "Very well. Now let's unpack what little things we've got and see what this city has to offer us. Sound good?"

"It does," agreed Harry fervently.

"I'm glad."

Fawkes sang in agreement.

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Dumbledore kept his word and in the days that followed they discovered all the delights and activities Rio had to offer them.

To start, Dumbledore, following the orders he had, bought Harry enough clothing to make up for the rag tag of hand-me-downs he had had all these years under the Dursleys' "care".

This embarrassed Harry to no end. He felt that the old headmaster was doing too much for him. First of all, providing him a new family, then taking him on his well-deserved vacation... and to top it all, buying him new clothes and paying for everything they did in Rio.

Concerning the clothes, it wasn't the clashing of colors that he had expected. Indeed Dumbledore not only listened to advice from the numerous shop keepers but also seemed to switch from wizard to mere human, behaving as he had always lived amongst Muggles with an ease that Harry had trouble following, thanks again to the marvelous care from his once relatives.

Albus helped him with that as he did with everything else, taking all the time Harry needed to feel comfortable and at ease. Sometimes it really was as if Dumbledore was his grandfather and Harry's admiration and care towards the venerable wizard did nothing but grow.

Still, for the time being, they left the Hotel (after letting Fawkes fly free and having lunch in one of the hotel's two restaurants) and hit the stores of the Ipanemian avenue of Visconde de Piraja. Hours later they made their way back to the hotel loaded with bags full of clothes. Mostly it was clothes for Harry, from underwear to casual Muggle clothing, not neglecting the badly needed swimming trunks, a dark green - almost black - that Harry liked.

By the time they were out of the commercial part of the cosmopolitan zone of Rio, both Harry and Dumbledore looked extremely different from the way they looked when in Hogwarts.

Strangely, they had chosen similar clothing to roam the streets of Rio in. Both were clothed in thin white cotton pants, short sleeved white shirts and brown leather sandals. After a small stop in one of the several hairstyling shops in the avenue, they had a slightly different look that went beyond the clothing.

Dumbledore had opted to have his beard slightly trimmed and his long mane of white hair twisted into a braid. As for Harry (following Dumbledore's gentle prodding and the not-so-gentle one of the Brazilian heat), he had chosen to have his hair cut short, the wild mass of midnight dark hair stylish for once. It was now short from behind and at the sides, but still wild enough to have some character left, represented by the natural way his hair (now short) spiked.

His lightning-shaped scar now stood clearly in the middle of his brow, free from concealment by his fringe... which at first bothered Harry slightly. Still after some thinking he came to the conclusion that even with his long hair hiding the scar, people recognized him anyway.

To finish the change in styles, Dumbledore decided that some proper protection against the light of the sun would be welcome and, in no time at all, they were both seen wearing dark sunglasses that amused the old headmaster of Hogwarts terribly. Harry had to stop his laughter each time Dumbledore stopped in front of a mirror to admire himself, all the while telling himself that he looked cool.

They passed briefly by the hotel, just for some time to leave their packages and bags before plunging into the world of Rio de Janeiro, Fawkes having seemingly disappeared.

To Harry's surprise, Dumbledore seemed well-versed in the ways of the city, its inhabitants and history, pointing to Harry all the things he should be wary of or what was worthy of his attention, giving him all the little pieces of information that left Harry always wanting to know more of what had passed, who lived or who had died and what had happened to the people of the city and of Brazil as a whole.

Such was the start of Harry's holidays in Rio de Janeiro in Dumbledore's company.

There were too many things to see or to experience in Rio but under the expert guide of the Headmaster, Harry discovered them all, even if in Harry's opinion, Dumbledore wanted to make him see them all only for a short while, so as to later, depending on Harry's interest, return for a more thorough visit.

There was the Pao de Acucar and its magnificent view of the city, the Cocovado mountain with the impressive statue of the Christ the Redeemer -Cristo Redentor- as it is called by the cariocas and wanderers from afar, the Igreja de Nossa Senhora de Gloria do Outeiro, the music and delights of the Lagoa Rodrigo de Freitas, a natural lagoon in the middle of the Zona Zul, where they passed more than one night enjoying the scenery and the softness of the Brazilian night...

As if that wasn't enough, Harry, again under Albus' guidance, discovered some of the sports that he could enjoy in Rio, specially those which were water-related, like scuba diving and others. He also learned to enjoy swimming, something that had been one of those things that he had lacked interest in while living with the Dursleys. Harry had no fond memory of his few times in the swimming pool when he had been younger.

Not that they went to the pool too much.

Dudley, having a natural aversion towards anything that implied physical exercise, tried everything he could to prevent that, but the few times when he wasn't able to, he found great delight in dunking Harry in the water all the times it was possible, his "friends" joining in the fun.

That made Harry (whose instinct of survival had always been extremely keen) distrust the water. Not because he didn't like to swim the few times he had been able to do so undisturbed, but because in it he was an easier, and more importantly slower, prey to his cousin and his friends, all as stupid and cruel as the former.

But now, with Dudley and his pseudo friends only a bad memory, he had discovered that he liked to swim, unable to resist the power the turquoise and cobalt water seemed to have over him (and any rational being that was looking for a way to lessen the heat and humidity of Rio), enjoying it, rolling within the waves that crashed against the shores of all the beaches that he and Dumbledore visited.

Along with this pleasure was the surprise (even if it was but an anecdote) to discover that Dumbledore was surprisingly fit for someone who was nearly 150 years old.

Even if his skin was wrinkled here and there, Harry couldn't help but see willowy muscles shifting with strength under that skin which tanned as fast as his. Clad in his swimming trunks, Dumbledore was a sight of good health. As he had noticed before, the wrinkles on his face and the white hair (those on his chest more gray than white) seemed to be the only signs of his grand age.

To Harry's greatest shock, some of the garotas - young women - seemed to look at the Hogwarts headmaster with "appreciation". Those looks reminded him of the ogling looks that the male students at Hogwarts sent to Fleur, the veela girl from Beauxbatons with great unease.

All of that was surprise enough to make him forget Dumbledore's swimming trunks that, while weren't as bad as those he had described, which the House Elves had given him, were as weird or more so than the red one with duck shapes.

For some unknown reason Dumbledore seemed really proud of them.

When the old professor put them on (which was rather common) or the former weird behavior in the younger women repeated itself, Harry would wisely look to another direction, hiding his rolling eyes under his dark glasses, savoring the warmth of the sun upon his skin.

That was what he enjoyed the most, strangely - the ever-present light of the sun, the heat of the light that was ever with him, soaking his skin, remaining there like a blanket of nothingness but sensation. The heat remained, even when the night came and the soft breezes coming from the distant Caribbean sea filled the air.

During days he reveled under the light of the Sun, bathing in its rays, watching how it slowly turned his skin first red and burnt and soon, to golden-deep caramel that drew the shade of his eyes forth. And those days his eyes seemed to gleam more strongly and seem more alive.

For maybe the first time of his life Harry allowed himself to enjoy time as it passed, not minding the past nor the future if not to miss his friends. But soon his attention would shift to the present, to enjoy it to its fullest like the juice of a wonderful fruit that was ripe for the taking.

When Harry focused on the present, time would either pass in a rush when he was taking part in some sport or activity, no matter how simple it was... Or slowly when he was laying there letting the heat of the ever-present light dry him after hours of swimming, when his body was pleasantly , tired... numb even. Then he would sigh and let himself go, entering into a well-deserved slumber under the ever-vigilant eyes of Dumbledore.

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Two weeks had passed since Harry and Albus arrived and while each day they both enjoyed all of what the Brazilian city had to offer, a small change was starting to become frequent in Harry's behavior.

Harry seemed to spend more time sleeping under the sun with each passing day.

Dumbledore could pinpoint the exact day Harry started to pass more and more time lying down - the ninth day after their arrival.

At first he had supposed that it was just normal lassitude coming out of all they were doing (magic knows he was feeling tired trying to keep up with Harry!) but as the days flowed, one after the other, he would notice that the time Harry passed doing nothing but sleeping increased.

It didn't worry him too much, but still he couldn't help but feel curious. Something was about to happen and he had no idea what it was, but his intuition told him that it would be significant, and that nothing he could do would stop it.

So the old wizard settled for doing nothing.

He and Harry continued enjoying their stay in the city as if nothing strange was going on, from time to time making excursions to the nearby parts of the Amazon rain forest. Harry was delighted by the sheer diversity of flora and fauna, all the while careful, however, to stay out of the magical community in Rio and in the emerald jungle.

And each day Harry would sleep more.

Harry himself didn't find that too strange and in fact it was more than welcome. Never before had he enjoyed the sun in such a fashion and the heat of the reigning star always made him sleepy, his mind slowing until the darkness that was a restless slumber claimed him.

Still despite how strange it was to always feel like sleeping Harry paid it no second thought and had no suspicion that something could be wrong with that. Each time he felt sleep creep upon him it was after some strenuous exercise or simply because it was time to sleep or after some delicious food when the oxygen in the bloodstream directed to the brain would lessen in favor to other body parts more needing the life fluid.

So Harry continued sleeping, sometimes through whole afternoons until the time came to do something else and he would follow Dumbledore to some new spot or unknown attraction that the old wizard came up with in order to amuse him and spend a good time.

But as the days passed Harry found himself sleeping more hours than the time he spent awake.

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Today was one of those days...

For some reason or another, Dumbledore had some business that needed his attention.

While that had surprised Harry, he wasn't against having some time alone. Since his last days at Hogwarts he had had scarce time alone with himself. Always there was someone with him and strangely enough he found himself missing, even if it was but slightly, the solitude granted by the disdain the Dursleys had towards him.

After some verbal exchanges Dumbledore had departed, promising that he would be back by midday, before they spent the rest of the day together. Harry agreed and took more time enjoying the morning, and taking pleasure in a slow-paced breakfast

After that Harry gathered his things and, leaving a note for Dumbledore telling him where he would be - headed towards the beach. That was one of the things that he found more convenient about this hotel; the beach was but some minutes away. So Harry rushed as fast as his short legs could carry him and soon found himself crashing against the blue and white waves of the Atlantic, laughing as he tried to keep the salty water out of his eyes.

For a while Harry enjoyed the simple pleasure of swimming, the water crashing against him as he ducked in it, moving through the liquid element with ease finding joy in that his child-like size, light as it was, was constantly rolled back and forth by the moving mass of water.

Finally tired of fighting the currents of the sea, Harry crashed onto his towel, breathing deeply and soundly, chest heaving as he fought to regain his breath. He remained like that, not moving more than necessary, enjoying the sensation of burning that his muscles was experiencing.

Yet soon that feeling disappeared, leaving place to the burning of the sun, his mind remembering that the weather forecast had showed that today would be an extremely hot day. Yet after three weeks of constant exposure to the rays of the sun his skin had tanned to the point that it could withstand the force of the sun.

For a while he lay there until he started to feel the already familiar need to surrender to sleep and regain his strength.

So he did that, letting the time pass, while from time to time a soft breeze would cut through the strength of the smothering star...

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Red...

Red light, burning, shifting with darkness under closed eyelids.

That was all he could see as the sun hammered against his bare skin.

The heat around him was incredible, just a notch under what could be considered unbearable, soaking his skin and the sand under the towel he was resting upon. Harry could feel how the sweat was condensing upon his bare skin and with a hand brushed it away in a lazy gesture.

He was feeling strange, light-headed with an unexpected consciousness of his body even as his mind became more and more muddled, slow in its inner processing...

And strangely enough, it grew strong too, as if his body was growing stronger but that impression was reaching him barely above a whisper, a weak echo that couldn't be interpreted by his almost comatose mind.

Yet as the heat increased all coherent thought was slowly lost as his mind sank into sleepiness and with a yawn Harry fell asleep.

Some hours later Dumbledore came, as he had said he would, after checking at reception and following the instructions in the message that Harry had left him.

It didn't surprise the old wizard to find Harry on the beach, for that had become his favorite pastime and favorite spot since the first few days of their vacation. Harry passed as much time as he could there, often spending hours on end at the beach.

He found the boy in deep slumber, lying under the light of the sun.

His first impulse was to wake him up, but he was prevented by the look of peace that was etched upon Harry's face.

From what he knew Harry had had terrible dreams ever since the summer following the terrible events of the Tri-Wizard Tournament and even when he was back in the relative safety of Hogwarts, those nightmares remained, disappearing at a worryingly slow rate.

Shaking his head, Dumbledore decided to leave the boy there, to that small haven of peace. If what he suspected about Voldemort was true, peace would be something that the world would lack soon enough.

Soon Harry would lack that peace that he seemed to be discovering at long last.

Quietly he kneeled by Harry's side and, like the real grandfather of the boy would do, Dumbledore gently laid a hand upon the boy's brow in a gentle caress.

Strangely enough his brow was ice cold.

As quietly as before, he rose up and departed to prepare for the night's activities, his mind working through things to do with his young charge, tucking that strange information away for later use.

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Had Dumbledore remained but some minutes more he would have seen something really interesting.

The scar in Harry's forehead, the mark of the Killing Curse, started to glow softly, gaining strength and brilliance by the second. First it glowed green and soon enough red, gold and silver, one after the other in rapid succession. At the same time Harry's body started to glow faintly, a sheen of pale green that seemed to struggle for a moment but that soon enough dissolved into nothingness.

Eradicated.

Then, unseen to all in the beach, a trail of pale gray smoke surged from Harry's body, a face forming within its mists, a face full of hate that seemed to hold on by sheer malice. Yet despite hate and will it was soon send to oblivion, a strong wind dispelling it away..

For a moment more, as the body basked under the light of the sun, nothing else happened.

What followed next would have called anyone's attention but once again it followed its course, unseen to all.

Unnoticed.

The scar continued glowing before starting to move like liquid light, red and golden mingled with the flow of light as the scar disappeared for a moment. The lines coming from it formed a strange shape, like a shield, where within a stylized "S" could be seen, it taking up part of the forehead.

The lines glowed red and the shield golden for a moment before shifting to silver, the whole symbol flashing before disappearing.

Then, as Harry's body continued to be exposed to the mighty rays of the sun, an amazing transformation started to happen. As though they were alive, the muscles of his body started to shift, full out and gain definition as they continued to drink the energy granted by the sunlight.

In other circumstances his cells would have been storing that sort of radiation but all was converted to allow the body to reach its correct shape.

Once that was done the body would return to normal and keep the power collected from the sun within each of his body's cells, powering them. Now that the alien obstruction was gone, finally vanquished by the very sun that bathed it, the body could work on reshaping itself; correcting all that was to be corrected, from his underweight and small height to his eye's deteriorated sight, passing by broken bones that not even magic could have healed due to its age, everything slowly corrected to set the body at long last into normality.

Normality for a Kryptonian living under a yellow sun.

He would need more exposure to the sun's rays to reach the level he should be at, taking in consideration his biological age. Luckily he was in a place were sunlight was not only common but almost omnipresent.

Harry remained asleep through everything, asleep even as his body shifted and reshaped itself, the alterations taking place without him being the wiser of it. Sleep prevented him from having to pass through the most of the evolution.

But hours later, once he awakened, he was in for the shock of his life.

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Some hours later

Harry blinked as he felt the wind blow on his skin, carrying the scent of the distant Caribbean sea.

He blinked when he realized that the sun was setting in the west, creating a glorious view with gold and purples alongside pink and royal blue colors.

The white sand under his skin was still warm, comforting, but he could feel it cooling now that the sun was setting and the night was coming.

Still there was something weird... He didn't know why he had thought of that, but his instincts were telling him that something was wrong and that had been so since he had woken up.

<What could it be?>

Still thinking he reached for his glasses, finding them where he had left them before: by his side on one corner of the blanket he had taken with him to the beach.

<Something is not right...> was the only thought that could cross his still sleepy mind.

That was until he tried to put on his glasses and found that he couldn't.

Blinking, he looked at them and tried again, not sure whether he should believe what his senses were telling him. He tried to put them on again but it was too difficult because somehow, he noticed with some shock, the glasses were too small.

<What the...?>

He tried to push them on with a little bit more of force but almost immediately he could feel the glasses strain. There wasn't any discomfort coming from his skin as the glasses rubbed against it. He pushed a little more and was startled when the glasses broke in two with a snapping sound.

"What the hell?" he muttered, turning the two pieces in his hands.

His hands.

Now Harry could be oblivious to many things and more than once he had been accused of being nothing more than a dense git. But having Hogwarts' record of visits to the Hospital Wing of the school went with knowing what was wrong with his body.

He even believed that he knew even more about the anatomy of the human body than anyone save Madam Pomfrey, which would be an empty boast coming from anyone else. As such he had memorized each part of his body through countless examinations to see if everything was in its right place.

And right now things were downright weird.

He dropped the glasses as his attention focused on his hands.

His way bigger hands.

Then as if of their own accord, his eyes traveled to his arms, freaking him out even more as he took a first look at his body.

"Um... now that's something else."

Where before no muscle tone had existed, now he was almost bursting in comparison. His biceps and triceps were like those of "David" made by Michelangelo, strong and lean, graceful in their proportion, the veins carefully marked against the steel-like mass. He flexed his arms and the muscles sprang into action.

Swallowing, his eyes traveled to his shoulders, which were much more broader, something that he had always lacked despite all the Quidditch he had played or trained for. His bigger hands trailed upon his flesh testing the stone-like quality. It was the same for his chest, now powerful and full. His lower abdominal muscles were sculpted, tensing with uncanny strength, the full six pack a wonder to him who had always lacked any volume in his muscles.

"Holy gods..." he whispered.

That's when he noticed that once again the wind blew and that he could feel it upon every inch of his skin.

His bare skin!

Quickly, praying that he was wrong, his eyes moved to his groin and, to his horror he discovered that the swimming trunks had burst open, not able to resist the growth of his body and was now lying torn apart upon the towel...

Leaving him nude.

With a yelp and his cheeks in flames, Harry was up, his hand flashing, taking up the towel which he used to cover his waist.

He was assaulted by a feeling of vertigo as he realized that he had grown considerably in some short hours. He was now dwarfing his previous form. By how much he couldn't be sure, but one thing was clear: Neither Ron nor Malfoy would be able to call him midget anymore.

It was too much.

"Something's wrong here, something is very wrong!"

He blinked and his hand rose up to his neck, touching his Adam's Apple. His voice hadn't sounded anywhere near what he remembered how his voice was supposed to sound like. It had deepened considerably. No one would recognize his voice - that was for sure!

Panic seized him and he did the first thing that came to his mind.

He blasted off, seeking refuge; meaning he had to return to the hotel even if it was ten minutes away.

He started running and soon realized, with growing awe and panic, that he was running way faster than any time he could remember and it had nothing to do with being taller and having grown longer legs in one single afternoon.

From around him he could hear people making noises, laughter and catcalls from nearby women, all centered around the fact that he had only a towel wrapped around his now more muscular body.

Luckily he soon reached the hotel, but that was when Harry took full measure of how he must be looking, all wrapped up with a sand-infested towel that hid little of his body. Added to that was the fact that it was more than probable that no one could associate him with the weak-looking teenager that had come with Albus it was very unlikely that a hotel of the category and standing as the one they were booked in would allow him to enter.

His mind in a rush, Harry tried to come up with a possible solution, his mind racing to give him an answer, recalling times in the past, more importantly this last year at Hogwarts, when the pressure coming from the events in the fourth year had forced him to get far from the spot light.

Still, back then he had had his wand and magic at his disposal and when that wasn't possible he had had the invisibility cloak of his father to help him. But now he had none of those, not even the wand that Dumbledore had convinced him to leave in his care.

Line point: magic was cut off from him.

Then suddenly his eyes lit up as he saw the perfect opportunity to pass through the gates of the hotel as a veritable horde of Japanese tourists alighted from a bus that had stopped in front of the door of the hotel.

Harry waited a moment more, up to the point when he believed that he would be able to pass without calling anyone's attention. Once within the hotel he would blast towards the stairs and reach his room. With luck, Dumbledore would be there preparing himself for their nightly excursion.

Dumbledore would know what to do.

Said and done.

Harry soon found himself using the tourists as a shield, trying to make himself as unnoticeable as possible. With his heart pounding in his ears, he quickly ducked the group he was in (who believed what he was doing to be a charming local custom), reached the stairs and with the same speed as if Voldemort was on his tail started to ascend through the hotel. After ten levels he was still running, trying to remember where his room was, strangely not feeling winded in the slightest.

Harry's main thought was to reach Dumbledore, but not being seen was a close second.

For once luck seemed to be with him as he reached the door after turning and turning again through the corridors of the hotel without being seen. Unfortunately his desperation grew when he realized that the door was closed.

Frantic, he tried to push the door, a movement born of desperation that he knew wouldn't work...

So it was surprising when the door opened with a sound like thunder, Harry's push almost tearing it from its sockets, crashing and taking him with it. The teen landed on the ground violently and the ground vibrated because of the strength behind his shove.

His mind, not even fazed by that string of events, halted, startled, coming quickly to a conclusion:

Something like that should have hurt like hell.

Something like that would have broken his nose and knocked up some teeth.

And yet, nothing.

No pain. Not even a sensation of discomfort.

Harry shook his head and scrambling rose up, his eyes growing wide as he took in the damage a single, simple shove had caused. With returning panic Harry lifted the massive door effortlessly, the same door he thought not so long ago would hold off a platoon of Death Eaters if need be.

And he had torn it from the door frame as if it had been made of wet paper!

Not knowing what to do, Harry moved it back to the door frame, putting its downed part back where it belonged clumsily. Not getting the results he wanted, Harry pushed a little more, wincing at the sound when the metal of the door twisted as he pressed it to the frame and by force alone forced it back to its previous state... more or less. It collapsed slightly with a metallic complain.

Backing, he looked mindlessly at the door for a moment, noticing dumbly that without a near look no one would notice the damage. Still that was quickly swept away by his fear, turmoil and a thousand different thoughts.

Silently he crashed on the ground, the towel that until now had hung on his waist untying without Harry caring about it. Without a sound he gathered his knees to his chest and buried his head in his hands, foreign sensations welling in him, coming from his senses, from this body that was not his.

Soon darkness filled the room but Harry could care less as his mind emptied itself from complex thoughts, leaving to give place to more primeval feelings.

He couldn't have told anyone how much time had passed, but suddenly a sound of wings drew his attention from inwards and it was with flooring relief that he saw Fawkes land in front of him, its body giving off a sweet golden light that chased the darkness away.

The phoenix head bobbed back and forth as it crooned sweet notes, making Harry smile tentatively as he saw Fawkes' clear intent to cheer him up. His new alien-feeling hand moved slowly to pet the magical bird, a way for the young wizard to demonstrate his gratitude to it. Awkward as it could be, Fawkes seemed to enjoy it, his purring quite obvious in the darkening room.

Harry soon closed his eyes, closing them to the world, his only contact with his surroundings his hearing and his touch on the phoenix. Finally in the darkness, with Fawkes as his only companion, Harry let go.

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