Last Son of Krypton

Dragonlord

Rating: R
Genres: Romance, Action & Adventure
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 02/02/2003
Last Updated: 29/08/2003
Status: paused

What happens when you discover a truth so different from what you believe in that everything changes? That's what happens to Harry in the summer of his fifth year at Hogwarts; a truth that had been hidden since the days of James and Lily, a truth that only Dumbledore knows... Until now.

Chapters

1. From beyond the stars

2. Summer of Discoveries (Part 1.1)

3. Summer of Discoveries (Part 1.2.)

4. Summer of Discoveries (Part 1.3)

1. From beyond the stars

Last Son of Krypton

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

By Dragonlord

C&C welcome!

E-mail: valheru_2002@yahoo.es

Consults, chats, all kinds of advice and banter: yahoo messenger valheru_2002

Disclaimer: It’s easy. You recognize something it’s not mine. Still if you want it all, Harry Potter and character related are the propriety of JK Rowling. Superman created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, D.C. Comics.

Author’s Note: a big thanks for Nappa and Dauphin, for their help and kind words. Thanks to Nappa that didn’t stop pestering me to finish this in a way that is only his. Thanks to Dauphin for everything, for using some of her precious time in this little fic of mine...

This is for you two, because without you this (and what is to come) wouldn’t be possible.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

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Chapter One: From beyond the stars

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James Potter was a lucky man.

No one could say anything against that, as it was true.

The only thing that could be seen against that belief was the tragic demise of his parents when he was in his sixth year at Hogwarts. That had been a hard blow to the leader of the so called Marauders, but with the support of his best friends (said pranksters) and his love interest, Lily Evans, the young man had overcome it and, in opinion of those that knew him, like Hogwarts’ headmaster Albus Dumbledore, became stronger from the ordeal.

James had everything a young wizard would want.

He was well off - his family being one of the most influential amongst the pure-blooded families of Britain, though few were able to claim as much nobility as the Potter family could, giving James a large amount of respect in the wizarding world.

Along with that he was without a doubt one of Hogwarts’ most brilliant students, almost as intelligent as Tom Riddle who was by far the most intelligent and clever student to ever grace the halls of the millennia old school. And that was no mean feat, made greater by the fact that Riddle was a direct descendant of one of the Hogwarts Four, maybe the more powerful of the four founders; Salazar Slytherin.

If that wasn’t enough he was popular amongst his peers, and would be so even without his exceptional Quidditch skills as a chaser. Through the years his popularity did nothing but increase, especially after he was selected to play for the England national team of said sport, helping significantly in their victories during the single World Cup he took part in.

He had no problem in matters of the heart, for girls simply adored him. Being dashing, with raven black hair that seemed to have a will of its own or had never met a brush, only served to make him appear more adorable amongst the girls at Hogwarts.

He could have easily been a womanizer, like his friend Sirius was (that still left to be proven) but he was so in love with Lily Evans that no other woman had crossed his mind (to the enormous indignation of his female admirers - the wailing was horrible, I tell you!) ever since he had discovered the difference between boys and girls. Since that moment Lily was the one for him and, as things would be, his feelings were reciprocated.

In fact it was a love so great and so pure that, to those that knew the Potters, it was enough to brighten those dark times, with You-Know-Who on the rampage, his mad quest for the extermination of the Muggle-born wizards and witches what would grant him the total dominion of the world swiftly blossoming to fruition.

Not minding the dark times they were in, James and Lily married a couple of years after finishing Hogwarts, and for their honeymoon they chose to visit the United States, their first destination being Hawaii where they would spend the first part of their time as newlyweds. From there they would move through the states of the union to reach Canada before moving back to England where James would start working as an Auror while Lily would work in the field in which she excelled at Hogwarts; ancient languages, both magical and Muggle for the Ministry of Magic as one of their foremost experts.

The trip had been a blast and that had brought them to his current situation, some years later.

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“You’re doing it again?” asked Sirius as he helped his best friend prepare his luggage. James was good in many things but in others he was helpless. Normally Lily would be helping him, but as she was busy with a late project that she had to finish before her holidays with James, she had entrusted the task to him.

She had done so... even if she continually suspected that Sirius Black, known prankster and all in all unreliable man, was about to pull one of his so infamous pranks, like when he had somehow managed to take James to a Veela stripping contest in Bulgaria.

How he had managed that particular task was still beyond Lily. As far as she was able to put things together it had demanded a lot of Butterbeer and some underhanded tricks which, of course, were Sirius’ specialty.

James would say nothing and when she pressed the issue her husband would turn as red as her hair which, in her book, was extremely suspicious.

James sighed as he looked, annoyed at his best friend, nay, his brother-in-pranks.

“How many times do I have to tell you that? Of course we are doing it. Why would I be preparing my baggage if I wasn’t going?”

Sirius laughed “Come on, Prongs, don’t get so sour... it’s just that there are many other things more amusing than crossing a country so huge in a Muggle car, of all things, when you and Lils could be doing something better. You should just leave it to me...”

James backed away from Sirius, worry starting to creep trough his system.

“Oh no. I know you Padfoot, old man, and I know that your idea of fun isn’t at all like Lily’s. You would get away from it but I would be forced to sleep on the couch again for a week instead of being in my comfortable bed with my loving wife.”

Sirius snorted “That’s just because you don’t know how to deal with Lily. Take it from someone that has seen you at your worst regarding our pretty friend. You’re helpless and that’s the truth, while I could guarantee you to see a stripping Lily swearing and drinking like a Muggle sailor. *That* would be real fun.”

James threw his friend a warming look. “You stay away from Lily, her food and her things.”

Sirius waved his hand in an dismissing notion, his face solemn. “Of course. I would never even dream of doing something to Lily’s... things.” A grin split his face. “I would make Moony do it of course.”

“Get serious, will you?”

“Serious? My name’s Sirius. Honestly, James after all these years and you still make that mistake, tsk, tsk...”

“Whatever. And don’t you dare use Remus in your hare-brained schemes...”

Sirius sighed dramatically. “Okay, okay…bloody hell, Prongs! You take all the fun from an old man like me...”

“Old man? Ahem…As if! Mangy flea-infested dog now that...”

“Hahaha... very funny! All right, no Remus... I’ll use Peter then!”

“Sirius Asdrubal Black! You...”

Sirius winced, shooting his best friend an annoyed look. “Cut it James! You know I hate it when you call me by my full name!” At seeing James’s triumphant grin, he relented, “Oh fine, if you want to go then do it... you will come begging for my help once you realize what you have missed.”

“Sure... and that will be the day Snape comes here confessing his love for you. I can see it…Sirius come here, you stuffed muffin! Let’s do the horizontal!”

“Ugh! Don’t even joke about that!”

“Then stop being a git and help me pack!”

“You’re no fun.”

“Bite me.”

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Far away from there...

The small ship coursed trough the void of space, surrounded by what could only be asteroids or fragments of some planet.

The journey had been long, very long, crossing galaxies and solar systems and yet the craft had resisted everything to bring its passenger to its destination. His aging had been slowed from its natural curse, the body feed by the energy reserves of the ship as it educated and formed the last son of a now long gone world as it was his programming.

Soon they would reach the third planet of the small star system, where its passenger would meet his destiny.

Soon...

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Three weeks later

United States,

Kansas

James and Lily had followed their plan despite Sirius whining that they would be better off with him in good old England. They were currently moving from state to state, enjoying their free time and not really caring about their destination as long as they were together.

From time to time they changed cars, James leaving the driving to Lily. He may have been a genius when it came to racing brooms but he had no illusion about his skill behind a wheel. The ruddy contraption was already intimidating enough for him to not risk trying to move it.

On the contrary, Lily had a natural talent for driving and the pleasure she took from driving at high speeds was comparable to the one her husband had mounting his beloved broom. She couldn’t stand flying on what for years she believed to be no more than a cleaning tool, but behind the wheel of a car with her gleaming red hair whipped by the wind, the sun making it sparkle like living fire, she felt powerful and free.

“Will you slow down, you bloody maniac?!” yelled James as his grip on the safety belt and other life-saving items had tightened considerably. “I don’t fancy dying young!”

Lily’s bell-like laughter was the only answer, clear even with the wind roaring in their ears. James looked to his wife, to her sparkling emerald green eyes that blazed in the sun and automatically relaxed.

Gods, how he loved her!

“Where is your sense of adventure, James? Where is the Marauder?” she teased him.

“My sense of adventure is all right, thank you! As for the location of the Marauder, he is currently drafting his will because at this rate he is going to die from a heart attack and not from crashing in this infernal creation!” he shouted back laughing.

Lily grinned. “Well we wouldn’t want that right?” she said as she decreased the car’s speed.

That saved their lives.

As soon as her foot rose from the gas pedal, blinding light filled the couple’s eyes as something huge streaked just before them, impacting with the road; tearing it apart, the sound pure chaos that left them deaf. The shockwave slammed against the front of the car as all sorts of debris hurtled against them at the same time, sending the car flying, then spinning madly in the air and crashing into the now-smoking crater formed by the collision even as all around other meteorites impacted in the country side, raising walls of dust and burning fields, taking lives in the cities nearby.

No sound came from the wrecked car.

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The first thing he was aware was of the pain coursing through his body and how difficult it was to breathe. Opening his eyes was something that James regretted immediately as the light hurt considerably.

<Okay... not one of your best ideas, Prongs, old friend.)

Feeling his face and head, he could feel a hot liquid slipping through his fingers. It hurt like hell so he supposed that it was blood coming from some open wound, maybe in his face or scalp.

His mental scan reported that his whole body hurt, but... something was missing, something important.

James fought with his muddled mind, trying to remember what was missing; what was that important to him.

Suddenly it hit him like a ton of bricks, clearing his mind from everything else.

“LILY!”

With a jolt James was back to his senses, his body sending an overpowering message, the one of pain, not unlike the Cruciatus.

But that wasn’t enough to stop him, not by a long shot, not when Lily needed him.

Groaning, he tried to rise only to find his body failing and sending him crashing onto the dirt. Letting go of some swear words that would have made Sirius proud, James tried it again, using all his mental strength and Auror training to keep back the painful sensations of his body’s injuries.

Bit by bit he moved, his eyes blinking furiously to chase the dirt that was making his already failing vision worsen away. Once that was achieved he started looking around him, taking in the devastation he was currently surrounded by.

Smoke filled the air, burning his lungs and the trench in the ground added more to the pandemonium in which he had found himself in. Snapping out of the trance of looking at such devastation he started looking for any signs of his wife, trying not to pay any attention to the pain coming from his legs.

Fortunately he had not long to search as he soon found that the car wasn’t that far away. Without a doubt he had been propelled from his seat through the top of the roofless car, the violence of the accident enough to snap the restrain of his security belt.

Rushing to the car he started looking for Lily like a maddened man.

His madness bore fruits as he found her soon enough...

And almost wished that he hadn’t.

Somehow in the car crash Lily had been thrown from the car, but to James’s horror the Muggle machine had crashed upon her. The only thing that had prevented his wife from being cut in two was the trench the meteor had made in its impact. Somehow it had lessened the force of the crashing car upon his wife.

Still it wasn’t pretty, with more than half of Lily’s body trapped under the wrecked car and her blood running freely from a deep cut in her brow... for all he knew she could be dead.

Kneeling near her he reached to find her pulse and it was with relief that he found it, even if it was faint, very weak. Taking sight of her body James chose to think the worst, but not giving up on hope as long as she lived still... she could have internal trauma or some other wound that he wasn’t aware off, not with her body partially hidden.

<I have to move her from that thing... and fast!>

With only that driving necessity in his mind James tried to move the wreck that was the rest of the sport’s car but soon found that to be near impossible. Maybe if he had his wand he could do it but it was in the baggage he had Lily had stored in the car and with the it’s actual state (not to mention the one of their belongings) finding something was as difficult as moving the car by strength alone.

Still James refused to surrender, forcing his body as much as he could in his own wounded state. He wasn’t sure but it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe and a dull pain was rising from his chest. If he wasn’t mistaken, he would guess that one (or many) of his ribs had broken and one of them was damaging one of his lungs.

Grunting, his perspiration mingling with his own blood, James pushed all he could, knowing very well that it would hurt him even more, but thinking nothing of it. Lily was the only one thing in his mind, compared to her, his suffering was nothing.

Lily.

She was his world, a million memories without her would be meaningless, dull, incomplete.

How the light of the sun played with her flame like hair, gleaming like the embers of a still, living fire. How her unmatched green eyes looked at everything around her, and when they looked at him. Each time they crossed their eyes a thousand caresses were exchanged, him finding the perfect match for the fire that burned within his heart, body and soul that was his love for her.

To him she was perfection even with all her faults and qualities.

From her temper to her compassion, feeling nothing more than pure adoration towards her and each of her little gestures... as when her small nose moved, wrinkled, in distaste when she discovered something that she didn’t like but chose to say nothing for his sake; how the delicate features of her gorgeous face always lit up when she gave him one of her breathtaking smiles...

How those pink, perfect lips felt upon his, the feeling of completion that assaulted him each time that they closed the distance separating each other only to disappear when the contact was broken, leaving him shaking and breathing hard... but craving, needing more of that feeling than the very air his body required and as such kissing with a growing passion that could never been satiated, only demanding more.

For her, for his very life he struggled with all the might he could muster...

Pushing...

Grunting...

Cursing...

Swearing...

He couldn’t know how many time had passed since he started trying what he now knew to be impossible without magic, even after switching positions that allowed him to use more of his waning energy. But in the end, with his vision blacking in and out he collapsed, his back supported by the car.

Weakly his right hand reached to one of Lily’s, its stillness breaking his heart. Someone as full of life as Lily couldn’t be that lifeless.

It was a sin, an aberration, a mockery of the light in her marvelous emerald-like eyes.

Rising it, James pressed the limp hand to his cheek, now wet with tears and his own blood as he quietly sobbed. The only comfort was the knowledge that he wouldn’t survive much longer than her. He knew very well that if he didn’t get any medical help soon he would die, and yet, right now, he couldn’t find the strength to care about it.

He was about to close his eyes when the car shook, the sound of protesting metal filled the air as the car was lifted by an unknown force. The surprise was enough to make James fall, his back no longer supported by the rests of the car crashed in the ground.

With a reaction based purely on instincts he looked from his downed position and what he saw was enough to make his mouth open and blink in disbelief.

There, holding the car in the air was a boy, barely an infant that couldn’t have more than four or five years of age. His black hair was in disarray, not unlike his own some part of James’ brain supplied him. The young boy was grinning and his deep blue eyes, shining like sapphires under the light of the sun, twinkled with some repressed laughter.

And from what James could see had no problem in keeping the car up in the air.

The impossibility of the situation almost froze James but at that moment Lily groaned slightly. That was enough to snap him back to his senses. Yet before he turned to his wife something else caught his eyes, something that made his heart swell with hope.

It was a shiny little red suitcase, rather simple in its appearance but to James it was one of the most beautiful things he had seen in his life. He knew it was where they had put their magical belongings; from wands to his ever present special Portkey, and inventions of his own that today could make the difference between life and death.

He moved to reach it just when the boy threw the car away before dropping on all fours and crawling towards Lily. For a moment James looked as the infant reached his wife and gazed at her with something that the young man believed to be concern in the small child’s big blue eyes.

Then the toddler looked at him with imploring eyes and James could only smile a little, even that small act hurting. “ I know, little guy, I know...”

He literally tore open the suitcase that opposed with but scant resistance to his frantic efforts and it was with a growing desperation that his hand reached his wand. The connection with it, the familiar warmth to be again connected to his magic was like a phoenix song, filling his being with mad hope.

His hand flashed and magical light streamed from the core of his wand, enrobing the crashed car with ribbons of crimson energy, transfiguring it into a stretcher. Then with the same expertise he applied to all his acts, his wand moved to point at his comatose wife.

“Mobilicorpus.” white light flashed, the boy giggling as he witnessed the whole show of light with a glee that in other circumstances James would have found endearing. Lily’s motionless body rose and, with James controlling the flow of magic, was laid on the stretcher.

Panting, James tucked his wand in his belt and took another item from the crimson suitcase. It was at first sight nothing more than an Muggle identity card that hung from a golden chain, but in reality it was a Portkey that James had created with the help of Lily and some members of the Order of the Phoenix.

Different from other Portkeys, this one could switch destinations to suit its user’s needs and registered all sorts of data from both the user’s status, the point of departure and so on. Yet, what was more useful to James in his present situation was that the magical item had a feature that allowed transcontinental displacement.

Taking his wand he pointed it to the magical object and with a command started to infuse the Portkey with more energy. The image in the identity card faded living only a blank, dark, area upon which red letters formed, conveying James’ mental orders transmitted through his wand. Numbers started to appear as well, counting down the seconds as James put it on, his neck passing easily through the loop of the chain, the Portkey bouncing against his chest.

Without losing more time, James rushed as fast as he could towards Lily and put himself upon the stretcher, quickly grabbing the infant that seemed to found everything extremely funny. With his free hand reached to take Lily’s hand on his, making sure to be in contact with them both.

Suddenly James felt like a hook had slammed against his middle and soon found himself, his wife and the mysterious boy taken at high speeds towards the only place James could feel totally safe.

Hogwarts.

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James groaned as he slowly opened his eyes.

Blinking, he rose up, his body responding normally even if he was feeling quite tired and stiff. He blinked as a familiar scent reached his senses. It was one that he knew very well and at the same time, filled him with contentment and dread as he tried to pierce the haze that prevented him from understanding what he was doing in Hogwarts’ hospital wing.

As he turned, he noticed that he wasn’t alone.

Albus Dumbledore looked at the young man, his eyes twinkling but James could feel that they weren’t twinkling as much as they used to do and that bothered him. Not even in those dark times, with Voldemort gathering followers by the dozen with each passing day, had Dumbledore lost that particular light that kept those around him going on.

Still Dumbledore smiled, rising to put a restraining hand upon the younger man’s shoulder.

“Easy, James. You took quite a beating before you reached us. Madame Pomfrey has patched you up but she is adamant that you take it easy.”

James nodded, sinking back in the soft bed. He knew that the Hogwarts nurse was right but keeping quiet and unmoving had never been his forte.

“Sir... what happened? I’m not too sure... it’s like if my mind is full of cotton wool.”

Dumbledore’s face grew serious. “You don’t remember anything? Anything at all?”

James closed his eyes trying to gather his stray thoughts “I... I... no sir. I’m not able to.”

Albus nodded as if he had expected something like that. “Madame Pomfrey told me that it could be a possibility. It seems that besides three broken ribs, one leg and arm broken, a perforated lung and numerous cuts of different consideration you had a nasty contusion in your head. She was impressed that you had been able to perform magic at all...”

“Sir do you know what happened? Wh-where is Lily?”

Dumbledore’s silence filled James with fear.

“What happened to Lily?”

Dumbledore sighed heavily. “Lily is as well as she could be... taking in consideration the circumstances. As for what happened I have some clues. Normally I would wait to Pomfrey’s advice but this is something that cannot wait.”

“Sir? Was it You-Know-Who?”

Dumbledore’s lips thinned as he considered his words - what was about to freak James out. “No James, it wasn’t Voldemort’s job - even if I expect him to be happy about the news if he ever learned about what happened – which is a situation I will do all within my power to prevent.”

He paused.

“I have but some ideas of what exactly happened on a whole, but what I know for sure is that you suffered from a rather nasty car wreck while you were in your holidays.”

Suddenly everything cleared in James’s mind. All that happened, the light, the car crash, him waking up and struggling to save Lily, the mysterious boy that somehow saved them, the Portkey...

Opening his eyes he noticed that Dumbledore was looking at him intently with those eyes that always seemed to know what you were thinking.

“I assume you have remembered it all, isn’t it James?”

James nodded “How is Lily? Was I fast enough? I...”

Rising a hand, the old wizard stalled him. James stopped speaking but it was clear that he was dying to know what happened.

“First of, yes, you were fast enough to save her life...”

“Thank Merlin!” said James, relaxing, feeling like if a heavy weight had been lifted from his heart.

“However...”

James’s eyes snapped back towards the school’s headmaster. “However what?”

Dumbledore’s eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and pity. “However, we were unable to heal some of the internal damage that she suffered from the crash. In that you were much more lucky than Lily...”

James face had turned ashen. “What sort of damage?” he asked, his voice sick with worry.

“Lily will be able to live normally but the accident has left her barren. James... She will never be able to have children.”

James felt as if the world had ended. Considering how he was feeling he would have been surprised to know that it hadn’t. For a long time he was speechless, unable of any coherent thought as his heart shattered, not only for him but more for Lily.

“Oh gods...” James buried his face in his hands, hot tears falling from his closed eyes as sobs wrecked his body. He was aware of Dumbledore moving and gathering him in a fatherly hug, sharing whatever comfort the old wizard was able to give to the younger man. James clutched the robes of the headmaster, weeping unashamedly within Albus’s embrace.

After a while James was able to compose himself enough to feel embarrassed by his breakdown.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of, James.” The young man looked up to the old wizard’s unfathomable eyes and gentle smile. “It a terrible thing I know... and to both you and Lily hard times are ahead.”

He paused.

“But no matter how difficult things are, or how terrible this moment seems to you, never lose hope, James.”

James laughed, a terrible sound full of sadness and bitterness. “Hope? How can I hold on to hope when I feel like if some part of me is dead? How, when I will have to face Lily and break her dreams? How?” new tears crossed his cheeks as he contemplated that grim future.

Dumbledore stood silent as he watched the young man’s prayer of despair, a young man that for many others was a sign of hope in those dark times...

“Do you want to see her?” he asked gently, a hand offering comfort and support trough the simple contact.

Silently James nodded.

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Some hours later....

Dumbledore entered the room to find Lily and James in a desperate embrace, the young couple offering each other the strength they so needed. Lily’s head was pressed against James’ chest and tears fell from her closed eyes.

From time to time she shivered even with the charms keeping the room warm, making James embrace her more tightly as his hand carefully caressed her hair that in the dim light of the room had lost some of its inner brightness. Such a simple gesture indeed, but so full of love that looking at it, at the silent communication going trough the two of them, Dumbledore could feel his heart swell.

“Excuse me?” he asked softly, somewhat reluctant to interrupt the moment of intimacy between the younger couple, but that was something that needed to be done.

Startled, both looked up, their eyes full of sorrow - only asking to be left alone. Yet as they continued to look at him without speaking, Albus took the liberty to enter the room. Sitting down in a nearby chair, the school’s headmaster looked at them, his face cast in a thoughtful expression.

Then he spoke softly and slowly, silent respect for their grief intertwined in his first, few words “First of all I want to excuse myself from disturbing you both. Believe me I would not have done so if it was unimportant...”

Lily moved slightly away from James in order to face Dumbledore better, but her hands remained within James’s. He could do little but squeeze her hand more strongly, giving her his full support with such small gestures.

She smiled slightly. That was one of the things Lily loved about her husband.

When it came to her each and all of James’s gestures were a proof of his love for her. She knew that James would prefer that Dumbledore kept away from them for the moment but Lily wasn’t one of Hogwarts’ smartest witches for nothing. She knew Dumbledore and she had never seen him inflict pain to someone if there wasn’t an option left.

If he needed to speak to them then it was important.

“What can we do for you, Professor?”

Albus paused a moment before talking.

“To begin, I would like to know how you are feeling, my dear Lily...”

“How I feel? I’m not feeling too great right now, Professor.” As much as she respected her old headmaster, she couldn’t help the huge load of sarcasm in her statement. As soon as those words were out she realized to *who* she was speaking with and paled.

To her surprise Dumbledore laughed and the sound of that laughter was like warm Butterbeer, warming her from inside out. Still she could not help but blush in embarrassment.

“So-sorry, Professor…I...”

Albus’ smile grew wider. “There is nothing to be sorry about, dear child. I understand that my question has been, let’s say, hmm... misunderstood?” He asked with a slight chuckle before speaking again “So I’ll ask again; do you feel well enough to follow me? There is something... or rather yet, someone that you should meet.”

“Who?” Asked James. “It’s not Sirius, right?”

Dumbledore chuckled, clearly amused. “No it’s not Mr. Black. In fact I doubt he even knows who he is. Now if you’ll be so kind as to follow me...”

That said he exited the room. Exchanging a glance James and Lily rose from the bed and hurriedly followed the headmaster.

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“Damn it James! Leave me alone!”

“But, uh... dear,”

“Don’t “dear” me! I will not break down nor will I drop down exhausted! But I swear if you continue acting like if I am made of glass it will be you that will need to walk out of here in a wheelchair! Got it?!”

“Got it!” James nodded furiously, eyes wide.

“Good.” That said, Lily turned towards Dumbledore who was acting as a silent and quite amused witness of the antics of the couple. His humor would be greater if he didn’t understand that it was a way to take their minds off the consequences of the car crash.

Shaking his head slightly, but still with a smile upon his lips, he proceeded to guide them trough the maze of corridors of Hogwarts’ less known sectors. The place they were going wasn’t too far away but for security’s sake a string of charms and other less known protection spells had been placed to prevent anyone but he and Pomfrey from accessing the room.

The trio made some more twists and turns arriving soon enough at a dark blue door with a silver handle on it. Dumbledore’s hand reached for it and as he touched the metallic handle, the door glowed, turning pale blue. Dumbledore opened it and entered the room, closely followed by James and Lily.

The room was not that big, in fact it seemed pretty ordinary as far as rooms go, but there were details that set it apart.

Mostly it was a sense of relaxation and peace that seemed to flow from the walls. The roof was painted a deep blue and from time to time dots of silvery light appeared, as if the roof was trying to copy a starry night. Each wall was of one color representing each of the houses of Hogwarts. Upon each of the walls paintings of people and wild nature could be seen, moving as if they were alive, as the pictures in the wizarding world did. As for the floor it was covered with all sorts of pillows, each of a different color as if they were transfigured Bertie Bott’s All-Flavor Beans spilled on the ground.

Stuffed animals and toys lay on the ground in haphazard positions as if a twister had been unleashed upon the room, leaving a chaos of colors in its wake.

And in its middle, clad in soft blue was a young boy that couldn’t have more than five years, maybe even three or four at all, his short dark hair wild, deep blue eyes shinning in glee as he pushed a stuffed ball back and forth only to go after it.

Then, as if he had just noticed them, he looked up at the trio as if he had just noticed them and waved his small arms playfully, looking at them as if he wanted them to play with him. That look was enough to make Lily go near him and take the infant in her arms, her green eyes shining with a strange light.

The baby reached to take one of Lily’s red tresses as though he wanted to pull them, but instead started caressing it, as if its color fascinated him. Then he looked up, smiled and reached up to Lily’s face, all the time making sounds of happiness that could only but make Lily laugh... she couldn’t help it - he was simply too adorable.

Albus beamed and James looked at the couple with a look that wasn’t that different from Lily’s, a look of tender wonder.

The old wizard gestured for the younger man to go to his wife and the child. Once James had joined Lily, Dumbledore indicated an empty space in the corner of the room.

“Let’s sit,” he proposed making his wand appear.

With a wave of his wand, three cushions morphed to take the form of three red-leather bound chairs, big enough to mold themselves to the three adults’ body. Lily and James’s chairs were side by side while Albus’ was in front of theirs’. Once they were comfortably seated, he started speaking.

“I suppose that right now you are asking yourselves why I have taken you two to this room and who is our young friend here.” He said as he pointed to the boy that was resting comfortably against Lily.

“Very Well. Yet before I speak I would want to ask you, James, what happened after the crash. I believe that with the stress of bearing those terrible news to Lily you may have forgotten part of what happened, something totally understandable of course.”

Nodding James closed his eyes, summoning his memories.

“I remember a bright light just before the crash, then darkness. I remember awakening and feel pain... then I realized that I was out of the car. As soon as I realized that Lily wasn’t there I started searching for her but with all the smoke it was difficult and yet I found her. I...” he turned to face his wife and the young boy that was now asleep. “I found you under the car. I believed you to be dead but I couldn’t accept it. I just couldn’t have lost you.”

Lily smiled sadly as her hand reached to her husband’s, giving him her support.

“But you found me and you saved me. That’s all that maters.”

James looked at Lily, his eyes shinning. “But that’s it. I wasn’t able to save you. I couldn’t. I-I didn’t have my wand. ”

Lily threw him a puzzled look. “But then, how? You wouldn’t have been able to lift the car by yourself in your state.”

James gaze moved from his wife to the toddler in her arms. “I couldn’t... and yet he could.”

Lily eyes grew wide as she looked at the boy resting against her chest. “That’s not possible. You must have seen things James. Maybe in your desperation you willed it with some emotion based magic. It couldn’t have been him. it’s simply not possible for a baby to lift a car.”

James reached to the boy’s head and carefully ruffled his hair.

“Not in that state. I was too weak, feeling too much pain and anguish. I remember that I had given up... I could even feel how life was slowly leaving me. I sat next to you and took one of your hands, telling me that at least we would die together. My back was resting against the car when...”

“When what?”

James hand moved to the boy’s cheek, caressing it softly with the back of his fingers. “When he lifted it.”

Lily’s face paled, moving, looking between her husband and the boy resting against her chest “James that’s not... possible”

“I’m afraid that in this case it’s very possible.” Said Dumbledore quietly, making the couple look at him.

Lily looked at him in surprise “How? It’s just an infant and he is so young...”

Dumbledore nodded. “Yes he is very young... and he is not human.”

James and Lily were speechless for a long time. Then James spoke. “No disrespect meant, professor but, are you sure? He looks very human to me. And if he is not human then what is he? Some sort of magical manifestation? An evolved magical creature?”

Dumbledore seemed terribly amused, looking at both James and Lily’s face and growing more by James suppositions.

“Oh no, nothing that far fetched. I think that you being a pure blooded wizard has limited some of your imagination for all that is not magical. Lily, you are my last hope to broaden your husband, let’s say limited views...”

Lily looked for a long time at the young boy before shaking her head. “I’m afraid that I’m no more able than James to give you an answer. He seems so... normal to me.”

Dumbledore seemed slightly disappointed. “Ah, maybe some corrections to our teachings could be integrated in the Hogwarts curriculum.” Then as if noticing for the first time the strange looks James and Lily were giving him, he smiled, his amusement still there. “But I digress. Let me put it this way - the reason why he was able to do what he did was because he’s not from here.”

“Not from here? You mean another dimension?” asked James.

“No, not an alternate dimension. Something more simple.” answered Dumbledore

Lily’s eyes shone as she worked around what Dumbledore was trying to tell them. Then an idea crossed her mind.

Not from here.

“It’s not possible...” she repeated more to herself than to the other two adults in the room. She looked at Dumbledore, who was now grinning.

“Indeed Lily... Our little friend here was able to do that because he is not human - not from this planet. In short, for James to understand, we have here a full blooded alien; an extra-terrestrial being.”

“From another planet? But Professor, that’s impossible... and even if it was what chances are there that we came across one of those?” asked James; not so sure if he understood or whether he had heard correctly.

Dumbledore nodded. “The chances are greater than you think. I know that wizards in general have a hard time believing in other forms of life from outside of our solar system. But when they don’t automatically close their minds to that possibility.... As you do, James…”

“That’s not fair, professor!” said James, blushing and sounding like a little school-going boy who had been scolded by his teacher for not finishing his homework.

Still Dumbledore’s smile was nothing but one full of understanding. “Of course. But the fact still stands that, to wizards, life, in all its limitless magnificence, is bound to this green earth and other dimensions that are connected to this world. Silly as that sounds it’s how things stand in our beliefs.”

“In that Muggles have showed more wisdom than us. Life is not confined to this small planet, lost in the infinite extension of the universe. We wizards grow complacent with our magic, with our abilities, so much so that considering the possibility of something even more vast and mysterious than our power is seen almost as blasphemous, as unnatural, as was the concept of wizards and witches to those that put Europe trough fire and death in this world’s Dark Ages.”

His face grew suddenly serious.

“We don’t know very much about our young friend here. And yet I fear to think what someone with evil intentions could do with him.”

James’ eyes narrowed. “Are you referring to You-Know-Who, professor?”

Dumbledore sighed, sinking into his leather chair, looking old for perhaps the first time in Lily and James’ life. “Sadly, nowadays, there is little not connected with Tom in some way or another. Let me tell you what happened after you reached Hogwarts.”

“As you know, you both arrived here with our young friend through James’ special portkey. Now what you don’t know due to your unconscious state was that as soon as you arrived I led some of the Order’s operatives along with some Aurors to the coordinates your Portkey was displaying, believing that you had fallen in some Death Eater ambush.”

“What we found wasn’t the result of some Death Eater attack - no wizards could inflict that much damage. As soon as the lack of dark magic was discovered we gathered your things in order to make a hasty retreat before any Muggle authorities popped up to make any queries. We were about to Apparate back to Hogwarts when something caught the eye of one of the Aurors in our group.”

“At first I believed it to be one of those Muggle contraptions... what’s its name... ah yes! Satellite, but soon I was pulled out of my mistake. As unbelievable as it was, I had to acknowledge the evidence that proved that whatever that metallic object was, it was not of human manufacture.”

“Indeed as soon as we returned I connected to the Muggle news channels to find some information about what had happened, and that gave me the missing piece of the puzzle. It seems that Kansas, where you two were passing by, had been earlier under a meteorite shower causing in their wake the death of an untold amount of bystanders and great deals of destruction, especially in a little town nearby from where you had your accident that goes by the name of Smallville.”

Dumbledore paused, sighing and James and Lily understood perfectly that it was out of sorrow that he had done so. The old wizard knew the terrible price of the loss of any human life and it was something hard to him, no matter the reasons or the victims.

“Sadly that is something that the inhabitants of that town and the authorities of the United States will have to deal with. If it was up to me I would send some wizards to help but we are already stretched in our means. Voldemort is increasing his strength and attacks grow more frequent even as we speak. Already there have been outbreaks of dark energy that we haven’t have been able to prevent.”

“Still that isn’t related to our little story. Returning to what happened we removed all evidence of our young friend’s arrival. Once back to Hogwarts I had to take the necessary measures to prevent Tom from learning of this boy’s existence.”

“Why?” Lily asked the Headmaster. “I mean, I understand the necessity of keeping this secret but what would You-Know-Who do with him? He is so small, he couldn’t possibly be a threat to him...”

Dumbledore shook his head.

“I’m afraid that it is the contrary. This boy is the most direct threat to Voldemort and his plans. We may not know what abilities or gifts this young boy may have but one day they may represent the difference between our victory or the one of the Dark Side.”

This time it was James who interrupted Dumbledore once he believed it was the right time. As an Auror he knew very well the powers of the Dark Lord and his ever-growing number of supporters. The dark side was spreading like a seemingly unstoppable black plague all around the world. For those reasons and more it was rather difficult for him to see this seemingly innocent child as something even more terrible than the dark wizard that was turning the world into a gory battlefield.

“How do you know that professor? What makes you believe that this boy could be so important, so... dangerous?”

Dumbledore stroked his beard, his eyes shining. “If the little feat of strength you mentioned wasn’t enough, the day you arrived, bleeding and unconscious on the brink of death, Cassandra had also just popped in for a visit.”

“Cassandra? Who is she?” asked Lily quickly, her natural curiosity overcoming her. “I’m don’t remember anyone with that name from the Order or the ministry, as I doubt you are speaking of the Cassandra of Illion.” she added with a slight smile.

Dumbledore smiled. “No, Lily she’s not that Cassandra, although it would be interesting to know what such a woman could tell us with her gift of foresight granted by the gods.”

Lily snorted. “A gift that in the end was a curse. She refused to give herself to the god Apollo as the price of such power, and for that refusal the god cursed her, making those who heard her disbelieve her visions, which in the end meant the destruction of Troy.”

James snorted, mimicking his wife mindlessly. “Can we forget about people who have been dead for three thousand years and more, please? And like Lils here, I don’t remember any woman by the name of Cassandra.”

Dumbledore laughed and Lily shot an annoyed look at her husband. She would have snapped at him if Dumbledore had not begun speaking again.

“Cassandra is an old friend of mine who, of course is not related to Priam, the last king of Illion.” He paused his face gaining an introspective cast. “We met, let me think... more than seventy-five years ago in North America as I was studying transfiguration with the shamans of several of the native American tribes. Cassandra was also there, but seeking to learn from the Wise Women of the remaining tribes. Her presence was a step of her journey to find a way to heal all around her, to cure what is rotten and decayed, what is sick and weak, what hurts and saddens. In fact that’s her self-imposed mission; to heal the world.”

“Heal the world?” asked Lily.

Dumbledore nodded and for a moment Lily believed she had seen a flicker of sadness in the famous blue eyes, but it was gone too fast for her to be sure of it. Then he spoke and nothing in his words or tone of voice betrayed that he had some hidden issue that made him upset.

“That’s what she does. Cassandra has an extremely developed gift of empathy and through it , she feels those things more acutely than other men or women, magical or not. With that ability she is able to connect with the very world. Still that sort of skill is rare and she has never been able to harness it totally. Still, to what interest us, that highlighted sensibility allows her to feel someone destiny’s and true potential, not unlike reading one’s future even if that is an incorrect use of words to express it.”

James remained silent for a moment before speaking. “So, if I understand correctly, this friend of yours saw the kid’s potential.”

Dumbledore nodded a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You can understand it in such a, and I apologize for expressing it this way, James, crude fashion, (Lily couldn’t help but laugh) but basically you are right.”

He paused, his face reflecting the wonder he was feeling within. “I have never seen such happiness in Cassandra’s face, never have I see her eyes light up with such hope and wonder. She looked at me as if she was holding the very epitome of the Light Side in her arms. She looked at me and spoke words that will forever be etched in my mind -

“This is hope made flesh, Albus. This is salvation given to mankind. This is the light of the future brought to us.”

She refused to say more as she departed but what she said is enough for me.”

“Of course, I asked Madame Pomfrey to run a basic set of tests on our young fellow. She hadn’t found anything like him in her whole career. As human as he appears to be he is radically different from any other living thing in the world. Still she was able to determine that the differences between him and us will become more apparent as he grows and matures. Already he has displayed super human strength and his reflexes are also way beyond those of a child his age. As for that part our dear nurse believes him to be around three years old and yet he seems older.”

He paused, sighing, all signs of his smile gone.

“And now we have a problem. What to do with this boy. No one must be allowed to know the truth of his origins, as shadowed by our ignorance as they may be. No one must know. No one.” His blue eyes flashed and some of his enormous power radiated from him. It was quite rare to see Albus Dumbledore so worked up as to display his vaunted power, those near him knowing well enough that when he chose to do so it was only in extreme situations.

James and Lily understood it quite clearly. No one had to know, not even their best friends or family.

No one, as Dumbledore had said.

Still James believed that he had to speak on their behalf in this... matter. If the situation was that critical he knew that old wizard would be open to all suggestions.

“But sir, what about those Aurors and order members who took part in rescuing us and that ship? With that many people there the news of our little friend’s arrival will reach the Dark Lord one way or another...”

Albus nodded. “Measures have been taken, measures that apply also to Poppy.”

“What sort of measures, sir?” asked Lily as she embraced the sleeping infant tighter as if protecting him, something that Albus didn’t miss. That made him smile slightly.

“Obliviate spells. Of the strongest magnitude. The tests conducted here have been deleted and all samples have been eradicated.”

“But what about him? How do we explain his presence? As you implied we can’t leave him with the first wizard to present himself and with what you did to Pomfrey you seem to have excluded the Hogwarts staff.”

Albus nodded, pleased of the young woman’s quick thinking “You are quite correct my dear Lily. To put to rest your concern for good Poppy, I will tell you that those obliviated agreed when they realized the seriousness of our present situation. Pomfrey helped me to destroy all proof of his presence at Hogwarts while the Aurors and members of the order have hidden the spaceship before the charm was applied on them.”

“As for what doing with him...” his blue eyes bored into James and Lily. “How do you feel about our little friend?”

James and Lily looked at each other, not really sure of what to say. Both had known what the headmaster had been implying with a sudden flash of hindsight, even if they were not able to explain how they knew it.

What he asked of them... they didn’t know if they could do it.

James was at a loss, and that wasn’t normal to him, being naturally quick-witted. Even if he was able to discern the true reason of his doubts stemmed from the fact that Lily would never carry their child, their own flesh and blood, and yet here their once-headmaster asked if they would take care of him.

Could he do that much?

His suffering, the same force that seemed to shatter his soul when Dumbledore told him the bad news concerning Lily demanded a refusal. It denied with mad ferocity to even accept the possibility Albus gave them.

Why should he care about someone –something- that wasn’t even human?

Then something came to his mind.

The first time he saw the small boy, standing on his small legs, holding the car that until then trapped his wife, smiling at him even as he performed something that was so beyond humanity that it was mind-boggling.

Ashamed, he realized that despite their situation, despite their sadness they were still alive... alive when he had given up on hope, a hope this boy had given back to him.

James would have been surprised to know that his wife’s mind was going over almost-identical lines but in a more powerful and basic level.

Lily looked down at the child that was snuggling closer to her, a feeling of peace and contentment seeming to radiate from his small body, those feelings stirring something deep within her, a sense of protectiveness that hid something deeper that she couldn’t name.

Still, could she care about another’s child when not even two hours ago she had been told that she would never have children of her own? Could she care about someone that close to the reason why she was barren? Could she care about the one who was indirectly responsible for her own misfortune? Care for something not even human?

Care for a freak...

For a moment her mind was blank. That was what Petunia had liked to call her ever since her first year at Hogwarts and that pain remained raw within her each time she thought about her sister. Those words, taunting her and hurting her, were something that made her defend those who were picked on or those who were called names by those who believed they had the rights to do so.

She remembered her pain when Lucius Malfoy first called her mudblood, another synonym of that thrice damned word. She remembered when tears had threatened to fall when she had been called in that way by the Malfoy heir and his cronies of Slytherin....

Until a kind hearted, dark haired and kind hearted boy jumped to her defense along with his three best friends and quite clearly told Lucius and his goons to go stuff it or they would curse them all into next week.

Like the coward that he was, Lucius backed off.

She would never forget what James Potter had told her that day, as it was the first time she would realize that she felt something more for the boy.

“Ignore them.”

“But...”

“Malfoy and his lackeys can only call you names because they know that they are too pathetic to do anything else. For them, if they see you hurt calling you things that aren’t true, it’s enough... They hate anything that they see different or that they find threatening. They will lash out, calling you freak, calling you anything their sick mind will come with because they are too stupid to know that they are the ones with the problem.”

“But he called me mudblood...” she had said, her eyes watery.

James’ face had flushed red but even so his voice was even, more for her sake than anything else.

“Only a git would use those words... We all have our differences, yeah, but underneath it all we are the same. We have the same blood under our skins, behind our differences. No one deserves to be called that, no one deserves that pain but no one should believe them either.”

“Still...”

“Still nothing! Words like those are meaningless unless you believe them yourself. You are not a freak, no one is. It’s just a rotten idea someone scared came up with. And those who use them…Well, they are as pathetic as the one who thought of it in the first place.”

“Like Malfoy.”

“Like Malfoy,” he nodded. “He’s nothing more than a slimy Slytherin git. Don’t mind him, and if he ever says something like that hex him, make him lose his hair or something like that...

That had been pretty deep for a fourteen year old.

And she had just done that, to an innocent boy who was seeking comfort between her arms, trusting her with his life.

A rush of shame crossed her soul, searing it.

She knew that it was her pain speaking but that didn’t excuse her. She had no excuse for thinking in that way. And, to make it worse, as far as she knew this little boy was all alone. What had happened to make his parents send him to the immensity of space? And what would happen to him once he grew and developed whatever abilities he may have? Would he be left alone, seen by all as a freak if his true nature was discovered?

And what about the fact that he saved her life and James’? If what her husband told her was true, if Albus was right then she –they- owed him their lives...

Her cheeks flared crimson in embarrassment and renewed shame, new tears falling down her rosy cheeks. How could she have thought that way? She didn’t know, but even now she had trouble in burying the part of her that screamed in pain for her loss.

She once again looked at the sleeping boy. It seemed that they were made for one another, both having lost something that couldn’t be taken back.

She closed her eyes trying to calm her mind and raging feelings, drawing the strength and tenderness she needed so desperately from the feeling of the boy in her arms even as pristine tears continued to fall even from closed eyelids.

Then she suddenly felt small hands reach to her, making her eyes open in surprise only to see a pair of small blue eyes looking at her in wonder and something like sadness in them. She noticed how some of her hot tears had fallen down on his raven locks, some remaining there gleaming like diamonds while others continued rolling down to his face, giving the illusion that the cherubic boy had been crying with her.

Lily looked up, not able to keep staring into those blue orbs, only to find herself gazing into another pair of deep blue eyes, those over half moon glasses, which looked at her sadly but also so full of love and tenderness, mingled with profound wisdom.

“Dear, dear Lily...” his voice was so full of compassion and understanding that it warmed her up and paradoxically made her cry even harder, to the great ill ease of her husband and of the boy in her arms that each in their clumsy ways tried to cheer her up.

Dumbledore could only smile sadly at this, seeing how James had closed his arms around her and the young boy between them stroking her cheeks and from time to time pulling her hair slightly.

He would have said something or continued with what he was planning to say, perhaps display some kind of gesture of comfort but somehow he knew that his words would never reach Lily as much as what those two were doing - giving her love, a love so pure that it filled Albus Dumbledore with contentment.

He was looking at one of the most beautiful and breathtaking sights he knew.

He was looking at a family.

---------------------------------------

Once again the three adults sat, the young boy once again asleep after they had been able to calm Lily enough.

Now Dumbledore was looking at the three of them, deep in thought. “I guess that you both know the question I was going to ask you. So, can you give me an answer? Of course if you need more time to consider...”

James shook his head “No, professor, we don’t need more time.” He looked at Lily who nodded and spoke, her voice soft and caring. Yet, all could hear the sadness barely hidden behind her words. “We will take care of him. We will raise him as if he was our biological son.”

Dumbledore nodded, a wide smile on his face. “Fantastic! I knew I couldn’t expect more from you both.” His smile faded away as he grew suddenly serious, locking his blue eyes with a set of emerald green “Now let’s change the subject. Lily, I know how hard it was for you to hear that you could never bear a child of your own...”

Wordlessly, her face as white as chalk, she nodded.

“Now that is true... but there is a way for you to bear a child, this child.”

If it was possible, Lily’s face turned even whiter, her eyes wide as if she was about to faint on a moment’s notice. James wasn’t faring much better, his brown eyes moving from the old wizard to his wife, the knuckles on his hand turning white as he closed and opened his fist.

In a weak voice, he spoke. “Why are you asking this of us, Albus? Isn’t it what we have agreed to enough? Haven’t we suffered enough?”

Dumbledore looked tenderly at the young man in front of him before speaking, his voice gentle. “James, I ask this precisely for your and Lily’s sake. On your own you will never have children - something that I know you both desired immensely; that you wanted more than anything else. The child being your shared love made flesh to raise and care about with your love and kindness.”

“Life has dealt you both a terrible blow, but at the same time given you the way to overcome it and become even stronger in your love, raising someone who will always be alone without the love of a father and a mother. If what we suspect is revealed to be true, his differences will set him apart from us mere mortals. He will be alone and he will suffer from it, always wondering why and how he came to be, wondering about his very identity, questions that we will not be able to answer and that will hurt him.”

Dumbledore moved and neared Lily, who was holding the boy. His aged hand moved to brush the infant’s cheek. “As you may have noticed, he is a very loving boy, with a heart bigger than his destiny. What I am proposing to you is to make the bonds that are already between you tangible.”

He looked at Lily. “I am offering you the chance to know what is now denied to you dear one, the feeling of a life being a part of you, of your love. Please, for your sake and his, consider it.”

Lily remained silent for a long moment, her eyes staring into nothingness. James remained as silent as his wife but for different reasons. He didn’t know what to feel or to think, but he knew that it was Lily’s decision, not his. He had long known that Lily’s wishes were orders to him. He may have bickered and complained as a kid but whatever Lily wanted or desired was to be supplied, fulfilled. She was his life and for her he would do anything.

Finally Lily blinked and her eyes met Dumbledore’s.

Then she spoke, her voice tired and soft. “You are asking me to be his mother in all ways possible, aren’t you?”

Abus silently nodded. This was followed by another long moment of silence. And then she spoke again, as quietly as before.

“I will do it.”

Dumbledore rose and softly kissed her brow as tears fell from her closed eyes, a gesture that was more fatherly than anything else only to move away from her gently. As James saw this he moved to hug her, but he was stalled by an imperious gesture from the older wizard that kept him from moving.

Even if he burned in desire to offer his support to Lily, James did as he was bidden. He knew that the headmaster was about to summon powers that were totally unknown to him and as such moving, or doing anything but staying immobile could mean dangerous consequences.

Under his watchful eyes Albus moved backwards, his wand appearing in his hand in a swift movement that betrayed his mastery in each aspect of his magic. Then he started chanting softly, his voice low, almost like a lullaby, in a language that was unknown to James but filled him with soft, aching sadness.

Lullaby indeed.

Soft.

Tender.

Comforting.

Beautiful.

Haunting.

Ethereal.

As Dumbledore’s words filled the air, the tip of his wand started to glow silver. The glow grew before it spilled from the tip of the wand, moving like a ghostly cord, reaching towards the sleeping boy, and warping around him gently forming a misty sphere, all while Albus’ chant continued as the magic was at play.

Lily released the boy who rose in the air, still asleep before his clothes were stripped from him. Then his eyes opened and, looking at Lily, smiled a last time before returning to sleep.

The magic then moved around him, forming a cocoon as he curled into a ball. Under the eyes of Lily, James and Dumbledore the boy started to grow younger and younger as well as smaller, the silvery light that surrounded him grew brighter until he disappeared from their view.

The silver-like mass hung in the air still connected to the wizard’s wand, before moving gently towards Lily, the glowing ball reducing its size. For a moment it hovered in front of Lily’s lower abdomen before sinking into her.

The chanting voice dropped and the light streaming from his wand dissipated. Breathing deeply, Lily’s hand reached to her abdomen even as James gathered her between his arms, hugging her fiercely. The old wizard looked at the young woman, gazing into her green eyes and, as he hoped, found suffering recede slightly leaving place to something else, something that he knew would help her.

It was pure wonder, and that sort of feeling after all that had happened was a sign of hope.

Silently Albus exited the room, leaving behind the couple. They would speak again and, hopefully soon their lives would return to normality.

But for now the old wizard knew that it was time to give them some well earned solitude.

---------------------------------------

The next months passed in a rush with Lily becoming happier every day as her “pregnancy” followed a normal course... which was what sometimes put James on the edge as Lily was passing by all the hormonal changes that marked pregnancies.

It was quite funny to see James rushing from one side to the other as Lily’s whims grew more and more strange and exotic.

Still even with all that and the changes Lily’s state brought to their lives the couple could honestly say that they had never been happier.

Lily’s love for the child growing in her womb was stronger each day as she could feel that wonderful life growing with her, within her, and James was not only sharing her happiness but seemed to have forgotten that the baby wasn’t his. In fact his brown eyes glowed with a pride that his best friends found sometimes downright scary when it wasn’t testing their patience with James and Lily’s antics.

Still as happy as the couple was the situation in the magical world was becoming more dangerous by the day. Voldemort and his followers were creating havoc and mayhem on a planetary scale with raids in the five continents, the dark mark appearing in every magical community throughout the world almost daily.

Soon enough, few places through the world were said to be safe. Hogwarts was recognized as one of them, being guarded by Albus Dumbledore himself.

But the old wizard was but one and the forces arrayed behind Voldemort’s many and numerous. Aurors in Britain (and in the rest of the world) soon had to use the Unforgivable to stall the advance of the darkness and to keep it from spreading to the Muggle world, something that was becoming increasingly difficult.

To the memory of the wizarding world, never before had the Dark Side been so powerful and the future seemed so helpless.

But for the Potters, and even with James working as an Auror, thus putting him in contact with the international situation in a more direct fashion, life was sheer bliss.

Until one day, near the end of Lily’s pregnancy, when Dumbledore paid them a visit – he had simply appeared at the door, a grave expression on his face. James had known something was wrong.

The Hogwarts Headmaster was quickly led to the house’s dining room and forcibly sat down for lunch with the couple. The food was provided by the house elves who as always prepared a feast worthy of a king. Soon it was all pleasant chatter around the food, followed by the dessert that was served along with the tea, or in Dumbledore’s case hot chocolate of a Muggle brand that Lily favored.

After the lunch the couple and their old friend moved to the study where they sat, James and Lily on the sofa while Dumbledore chose a high chair which faced them.

The study had the clear mark of belonging to a Gryffindor, the all red and gold decoration along with a touch of blue and other minor colors showing lion courage. The fire in the heart gave the room a cozy feeling, the flames giving off a dancing light that turned Dumbledore’s silvery hair golden and his blue eyes an arresting shade of purple.

For a moment they continued talking about anything but the reason why Dumbledore was in the house, all from Quidditch to the new professors who would arrive at Hogwarts for the new scholar term.

Yet soon those matters were spent and Dumbledore moved to the reason of his presence, his voice unusually grave, but definitely apologetic.

“As I said before I am sorry to intrude in your lives, but some disturbing news reached me through my net of spies, something that was important enough to command my immediate attention.”

He paused. “I fear that somehow Tom may have learned about the existence of our young friend and now he is seeking him.”

“But professor, how could he?” asked James his face betraying his concern “If what you told us is true, then those who took part in the events that day were Oblivated.”

Dumbledore nodded. “True, James. But if we can say something good about Tom, he is one of the most intelligent beings to walk upon this land. That coupled with his cunning and determination puts few things beyond his reach.”

“He may not know of the details of that day, but he may have monitored the displacements of Aurors stationed in the continent and found that some of them had taken part in something that they don’t remember. Something that someone, that is me, wants to keep hidden. That would be enough to draw his attention and have connected that speck of information with other pieces of the mystery and that in turn with other unusual happenings.

“Happenings like the meteor shower that came with our young friend. It could have granted his attention simply with the cost of so many Muggles’ lives, something that would fill his dark heart with pleasure.”

Dumbledore shook his head. “Anyway, he knows something and already his Death Eaters are moving through the world gathering information and bringing him anything they believe would keep them safe from his wrath, a more than powerful source of motivation I might add.”

Lily swallowed her hands resting upon her swollen belly as if to protect her unborn child “Wh-what does he know?”

Dumbledore sighed. “Thankfully, not much. We have to be grateful to the fact that few people knew the secret to begin with. Still as we knew thanks to Cassandra that our friend’s destiny is going to be important for the world then so does Voldemort through some still unknown source.”

“What can be deduced from the information he may have is enough to make him furious as he would draw the conclusion that someone more powerful than him is bound to appear sometime in the near future. In Tom’s mind no one can be stronger or more powerful than him. He would drown the world in blood before allowing anything to rise and challenge him for dominion.”

“Still as mighty as he is and even with all the recourses he has at his disposition we have a large lead that he doesn’t have. That give us the time we need to plan some counter to his moves.”

“What do you have in mind, Professor?”

Albus stroked his gleaming beard. “For starters, let things remain as they are. As long as we act normally Tom may not suspect the truth. Still, once your son is born we will take more drastic measures... personally I would use the Fidelius charm but you must find a worthy secret-keeper.”

James and Lily nodded before James spoke. “I would trust Sirius with my life and I know he would do the same... I can’t think of anyone better for our secret-keeper but I would only ask him if You-Know-Who is really after us.”

Dumbledore nodded. “Of course. Still I will take some precautions just in case. As Muggles say - better safe than sorry and that’s something I intend to follow. As for now I will strengthen the charms around the house and the land around it. I will ask Arabella to assist us in this task as soon as tomorrow. We will just have to be ready if ever Tom finds the truth. With some chance this will be later than sooner.”

For a while the room was plunged into silence as darkness fell outside. In the house only the flames gave any sound.

---------------------------------------

In those dark times even the most innocent thought soon found a darker reflection bound into reality.

As Dumbledore feared, soon Voldemort had his attention fixated on the Potters.

All of the Order’s spies were sure of this, without a doubt. It was as if the Dark Lord had become obsessed with the young couple and their newly born son, Harry.

He commanded his Death Eaters to search for the hiding trio, the Dark Lord’s men and women not leaving anything without having checked it thrice. When one of those evil wizards checked some place you knew that another would check it again just in case.

Still, thanks to the Order of the Phoenix the couple and their baby were always out of Voldemort’s grasp which enraged the Dark Lord beyond belief. But as the weeks passed by the attempts had come too close for Dumbledore’s liking.

In his office at Hogwarts, and under the gaze of all past headmasters that looked at him worriedly, Dumbledore sat, writing in a parchment with his green ink to the Potters. It was time to use the Fidelius charm if only to gain more time to come up with new ways to sabotage Voldemort’s plans concerning the young family.

He quickly finished the letter before sealing it with red wax and affixing the seal of Hogwarts. Then he motioned to Fawkes to come to him, the golden and red bird flying from his perch only to land on the wizard’s shoulder.

Dumbledore petted the magnificent bird that purred sounds of aching perfection.

“Ah Fawkes, what would I do without you? Ready to make a little trip to the Potters? I need you to send them this letter.”

The magical fire eagle bobbed its head up and down in agreement even as it sang soft tunes that filled the room. Albus could do nothing but smile, Fawkes’ fondness for the Potters, especially for little Harry, never ceased to amaze him.

“Good. I know I could count on you. Now take this and be careful.”

The phoenix reached the rolled parchment with a golden claw before taking off with incredible speed.

Dumbledore remained looking at the window until the phoenix was but a speck of gold in the dark sky. Then he turned his attention to the flames in the heart, letting the mesmerizing dance sooth him.

---------------------------------------

A few hours later Sirius Black Apparated into the house of his best friend’s family.

He was one of the few beings who were allowed there, part of the defenses the Order had put up to guarantee the protection of the young family.

Sirius as one of the Order’s operatives within the hit wizards corps knew very well the danger James, Lily and young Harry were exposed to... even if he couldn’t understand the reason behind Voldemort’s obsession for the Potters. Of course having James out of the way would be something positive for the Dark Order but that was also true for a good dozen of families, families way more involved in the war against the Dark Side.

Sirius called at the door and soon enough the oak door opened, James meeting him in a hug that he returned. It was common in those times to display your feelings in any way you could as no one knew when you would lose the people you care about.

They exchanged some words and more greetings before entering the house and moving towards the living room. There Sirius was greeted by Lily who hugged him tenderly, a hug that Sirius returned eagerly... it was like hugging a younger sister, someone that you loved but that you couldn’t help making fun of, as was the case when they had been at Hogwarts.

Then Sirius turned to see a quite strange view.

There, sitting upon a blanket was Harry, his godson, and playing with him was Dumbledore’s red-golden phoenix that seemed immensely happy to share its time with the baby. From time to time young Harry giggled, his blue eyes seemingly shooting sparks, all the while the phoenix hummed some tunes that somehow the baby found even more amusing, his laughter following the magical notes of the red bird.

“Now that’s something...” said Sirius with wonder in his voice. He had never seen a magical animal, more so a phoenix, that taken with a human. A good sign if he ever saw one.

Lily noticing the curious look in the boy’s godfather eyes laughed softly.

“Here you have your godson with his inseparable friend...”

Just then Fawkes jumped and landed on the boy’s shoulder, but the weight of the magical bird was too much, sending the two of them rolling in a tangle of golden wings, legs, beak and black hair, only to make Harry finish face first in the blanket, covered by the wings of the phoenix which was shaking its head, without a doubt trying to regain its bearing. Young Harry slowly managed to get up even if it was to sit and look at his magical friend before laughing. Fawkes seeming to share the fun, its head moved to press itself against Harry’s cheek, causing the boy to throw his little arms around the bigger bird and hug it with uncanny gentleness.

Laughing, Sirius turned just as Lily gestured for him to follow her. They departed silently, leaving the two friends behind and moved towards the study. James was already awaiting them, his eyes gazing in the flames that heated the room. Still his eyes turned to his best friend and his wife once they entered the room.

As one they sat, Sirius looking at Lily take James’ hand and how each one returned the gesture, as if to give each other support and strength. Finally James took a deep breath and started speaking.

“As you know the Dark Lord is after us...”

Sirius nodded.

“What you may not know is how near he has been to getting us. One of his spies has found the information about us that he needed and would have delivered it if it wasn’t for one of Dumbledore’ undercover agents. From what Albus tells us, You-Know-Who’s fury about that failure was so great that those agents had to be moved out of the Dead Eaters’ ranks or else they would be dead by now. That of course presents another problem.”

Sirius nodded. “I can see. Without those spies we lose vital information, information we need to keep you and others safe.”

“That’s it. We are blind to the Dark Lord’s movements and that, in our case, may prove fatal.”

Sirius once again nodded even if a light of interest flickered in his brown eyes. “Still one must wonder why old snake face wants to see you dead so much. Sorry to say it, Prongs, old man but even as mighty a wizard you are, you are no match for him.”

James glanced at Lily, his wife closing her hand slightly. James sighed as his eyes returned to his friend.

“Who knows? He doesn’t need any reason to do evil that’s for sure.”

Sirirus nodded as if he had accepted James’ explanation. Still he knew that they were keeping something from him and a small part of him felt slightly hurt.

<Get a grip on yourself, Padfoot. They must have their reasons for not telling you the truth.>

“Right. But apart from that charming situation why do you need me here?”

Silence

“Out with it James. You were always too bloody obvious when you wanted to ask something that you didn’t really want to. If not ask the pretty lady here. She will say that you are hopeless.”

“Am not!”

Giggles.

James threw an annoyed gaze to his wife. “Are you making fun of me?”

Smiling she patted his head. “But of course dear. That’s my job that I fulfill with the help of that shady character we know as Sirius Black, man when he wants, dog when he needs.”

James snorted even as his best friend snickered. Then, with a weariness that Sirius had rarely seen before in his friend, James looked at him, his soft brown eyes troubled, holding all the fear he refused to feel, keeping it away from Lily and young Harry. But it was clear, by the way James held Lily’s hand, that he knew that his wife knew of his fear.

That was one of the things that humbled Sirius even after all those years in contact with the couple.

The love that they shared that, if it was possible, grew day after day, awe-inspiring even. When younger, he had taken some pleasure in teasing James about what he thought was but a crush that his best friend had since the end of the fourth year, a crush that was born out of a single, simple gesture from Lily.

She kissed him on the cheek.

That was before running away, her laughter silvery music. James had stood there, under the rain with a hand on his cheek, eyes lost even as a monstrous blush settled upon his cheeks. He had remained there for a while, unresponsive to the outside world even as rain pelted and drenched his clothes.

After that everything was said and done for the de facto leader of the marauders.

Sirius kept in check the grin that was coming a mile away. That had been a day to remember and years after, when the girls at Hogwarts finally understood what was keeping James away from their tender mercies... well it wasn’t a pretty, nor quiet, picture. Not to forget the few dozen blokes that had the beautiful Lily Evans as their yet so far away paramour...

That had been one of the few, if not the only one time both Lily and James had been hated each by their gender group.

Well that had been also a good time for him, with all those lonely witches to comfort...

As the years progressed and the feelings between James and Lily grew stronger and stronger Sirius slowly understood that that kind of love was reserved to a few. He had met and intimately knew dozen of women, magical or not, but he had still some hope to find the one girl that would complete him, like his friend had found.

Maybe it was a lost cause, maybe that wasn’t what was in store to him and sometimes, rarely, mind you, he had felt some bangs of sadness at that thought. Still those bouts of emotion were rare, with the world they were in sucking all time for him to think of a possible stable love life. Indeed a war was one of those things that through their horror was able to snuff out the flame of love and heartfelt romance.

But he knew that as long as his friends continued living, as long as they continued loving each other, and now with young Harry to make that love even more complete, Sirius would always keep hope for a better future, a future free of the shadow of Voldemort.

Blinking Sirius looked at his two friends, noticing how they had started to look at each other in that unique fashion of those sharing true love and politely coughed, drawing their attention back to him.

Smile teasing, Sirius couldn’t help it. “Seriously you two, responsible adults and all and you *still* act like love-struck teenagers... tut tut... how embarrassingly gushing! Have you two no shame?”

Lily’s green eyes blazed and Sirius swallowed. The only time she had spoken with fire in her eyes, Lucius Malfoy had had to stay in the hospital wing for a straight week. The only thing that prevented him in hitting the ground and beg for his sad life or even running away as if the very Dark Lord was after him was the teasing smile upon her lips.

James’ smile helped some too, but who cared about that? No one paid any attention when Lily’s eyes were upon oneself... no mater if you were a friend or a foe, Lily’s eyes were arresting in their intensity.

“Uh... that’s... ah...” he tried to say but those damn eyes kept him from it.

Lily’s stiff finger poked him in the ribs, making him back off slightly. “Nice going, mangy mutt... one would wonder where you come from with such expressive words.”

Sirius blinked “Who are you calling “mutt”?”

Lily sighed dramatically before looking exaggeratedly around her “Is there any other flea-infested dog Animagi around here?” She looked at James, eyes wide. “Do you see another half-witted wizard that would become a dog around here James?”

James grinned, shaking his head. “Nope. No one would be that dumb.”

Sirius threw him an exasperated mock glare “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

James’ grin grew wider. “More than you would believe.”

Sirius snorted, a sound so like the ones he did in his dog persona that both James and Lily laughed. Unable to hold it back, Sirius soon joined them. But soon the laughter died and seriousness settled down again, the three adults realizing that it was time to speak about Sirius’s summoning.

Not of those to beat about the bush, Sirius leaned back on his chair, his dark brown eyes in full Auror mode.

“All right, what’s the reason why you wanted me here? I know it wasn’t to speak about my fleas.” The last comment was aiming to relax the situation but it failed.

James threw a last look at Lily before speaking. “Dumbledore believes that things are starting to become too dangerous for us, even with the actual protections, to remain in the open. The last time it had been a really close call. Too close. We were lucky but you know that such luck is not going to repeat itself.”

Sirius nodded, face grim. “Lightning never strikes twice in the same spot.”

James nodded. “Let’s face it, Padfoot, we all knew that this had been a blessing. We knew that sooner or later we would have to go into hiding or face the fate of some many others... You-Know-Who doesn’t forgive those that have meddled in his plans. Nor does he forget.”

The Lost Ones, those that had opposed the Dark Lord and had paid with their lives their desire to live in peace, to defend what was right, all what the Light represented. Many of them had been friends and comrades at Hogwarts and even beyond its walls.

Sarah and Paul McKinnon, both close friends of Lily and their two daughters, Clara and Michelle who used to play with baby Harry... the image of their mangled, tortured bodies, found only few days after that moment of happiness was still fresh in their minds, their home burning as the Morsmordre filled the sky. They remembered it as if it had been yesterday, that horror forever etched in their minds.

Four names to be included in the thousands of deaths all around the world, claimed by Voldemort and his followers’ desire to rule above all forms of life even if they had to purge the world of life to achieve that mad end.

Sirius was the first to come back from their memory trip, both through the bad and good memories.

“We all know that the dark bastard would drown the world in blood to have it,” his voice was hard and cold but James and Lily could feel the cold fury hidden behind the words. “I swear that monster is going to pay someday...”

James nodded.

That was a feeling that he could understand perfectly. Voldemort wanted his son more than anything else in the world, but that wasn’t going to happen as long as he breathed air. It did not matter if Harry wasn’t really his. It mattered not that he wasn’t human. Those concepts had no real meaning in his mind. He loved him as if he was his own flesh and blood since the first time he saw him resting within the loving comfort of Lily’s arms.

And if Dumbledore was right, if the key to defeat the Dark Lord was really within his son he would give his life before harm touched even a single strand of his raven dark hair.

But that wasn’t it

Sometimes the sheer intensity of the feelings he had for his “son” left him winded, almost afraid, as if he couldn’t understand how he could love someone as much as he loved Lily. But it was enough looking at them both, at his family to understand why, even if it was in an abstracted fashion.

James sighed. He would sacrifice his life if needed. He knew it, as he knew that he loved Lily and Harry, but he also knew that it would be in vain, a fool’s hope to stop someone –something- that could not be stopped.

He wasn’t powerful enough.

No one was except Dumbledore and, if the situation presented itself, he knew that the old wizard wouldn’t be there to protect what he loved the most.

He spoke aloud, putting his fears into words “If things continue this way he will find us.”

Sirius’s eyes narrowed, his mind quickly catching on with his best friend’s. “That will not happen. If I know Dumbledore he must have some crazy plan up in his sleeve. Am I right?”

James nodded, drawing comfort from Lily’s silent presence. “Yes. He proposes that we use the Fidelius charm.”

Sirius nodded. That was common practice in those dark times, but it had the downside of putting the secretkeeper in danger if this one was known... and as things were no secret was kept from the dark for a long time, not with a being like Voldemort tracking you. “That’s a good plan, the best option really. Where is the problem? It can’t be the charm itself. It may be complicated but with someone as Dumbledore helping...”

Lily nodded. “That isn’t the problem. Dumbledore offered to be our secret keeper but we feel that there is already so many things that he is doing that adding this to his burden would be too much.”

James continued. “We can’t ask or even allow Albus to take this burden too... Merlin knows that You-Know-Who would have won a long time ago if it wasn’t for Albus. Between his work at Hogwarts, leading the order, coordinating the efforts of half the ministries around the world and a dozen other things... he may be the most powerful wizard in the world, he may be the only wizard You-Know-Who fears, he may be the wisest wizard since Merlin but one thing Dumbledore isn’t is young.”

Sirius chuckled, clearly amused. “Right... but I’m sure that he will outlive us all, Prongs.”

James allowed himself to smile slightly. “Maybe. But the point is we can’t ask him to also be our secret keeper. Even if all we said about him wasn’t true he has done too much for us to ask him anything else.”

Sirius frowned. He didn’t like it but his friends had made a good point about Dumbledore. He also knew enough about the eccentric Hogwarts headmaster to know that he wouldn’t try to change James and Lily’s decision... even if he thought it to be unwise.

James looked at Lily a moment before looking back at Sirius. He had never seen such seriousness in his friend’s brown eyes. He knew that what came next would be deathly important. “Lily and I, after thinking about it would like you to be our secret keeper.”

“What?”

But James continued, not relenting, paying no heed to his friend’s surprised outburst. “If you don’t then we will ask Remus. We couldn’t decide who to ask... you two are our closest friends, our family... both Lily and I would trust you with our lives but we also know that it would put you in great danger.”

“Whoa, whoa, James, boy, slow down.” Once he was sure he had their undivided attention he resumed. “You know that I wouldn’t refuse you anything... but what are you not saying to me?”

James’ eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?” Sirius smiled slightly teasingly. “I know you and I know the way you think. Ditto for you Lils. If I was to guess I would say that something is going on with old Moony. If not why call me and not him too?”

James swallowed and his hand closed more tightly around Lily’s. In a broken voice he spoke and his words shook Sirius to the core. “For some time both Dumbledore and the ministry have believed that someone near us is feeding information to the Death Eaters, working as a double agent for the Dark Lord. Some of the Ministry’s intelligence corps believe that Remus is working for You-Know-Who.

“James, that’s bull! Remus would never betray us!”

James’ eyes glowed for a moment, his anger clear. “Don’t you think that I know it? Don’t you think that I was ready to hex the first person that said such a thing?”

Lily’s tone was as harsh as James’. “And you know why he didn’t Apparate in the Ministry and blast the one who said it into next week? Because he was restraining me! I will believe that Remus is the betrayer the day the Dark Mark is branded in my skin - as if that is going to happen!”

Sirius rubbed his temple. What he had just heard wasn’t possible. Remus Lupin, a Death Eater? That would be the day Voldemort decided to work for global peace and use pink robes with fluffy lace as his uniform. “What does Dumbledore think about this? I know you must have asked him about that...”

James and Lily relaxed as one, but still seemed unhappy about the whole deal. Lily spoke this time, her voice tainted with slight bitterness. “He believes in Remus too, but while he doesn’t like to, he reminds us that he is a werewolf, so he is ultimately a dark creature.”

James nodded, his eyes boiling with badly repressed anger. At what, Sirius could only guess. “To make things worst, reports have reached him through his spy net that some of the wizards working for You-Know-Who have found a way to control all kind of dark creatures...Werewolves lose their will once a month. They will be directly under his control on that night.”

“That sucks.”

Sighing, James spoke, eyes closed. “It’s too mild a way to speak of it Sirius. We can’t do anything about that and Dumbledore himself can’t do anything about that. So there you have it, we can’t trust Remus... something that I wish never happened.”

Sirius nodded, his face showing the sadness he felt. “I know that... I mean, I never believed that something like that would happen one day. I would never doubt you two, or Remus or even Peter. It would be like not trusting my family...”

“We know,” said Lily. “It’s something that no one should go through but it’s how things are. Still as much as we refuse to think of Remus as a... traitor, I will never risk Harry’s life.” she looked away from Sirius’ dark chocolate brown eyes. “Sirius... what we didn’t tell you but I think you deserve to know is...”

“Sirius,” continued James. “The dark Lord is not after us, but after Harry.”

Sirius’ eyes widened. “What? But...”

“Please, Sirius, don’t ask us why that is so, but trust us. The Dark Lord wants Harry, not Lily or me. We are but the bonus should he discover our whereabouts... Harry must be protected until he is old enough... at all costs, even if the price is our lives.”

“Now James,” Sirius’ voice had a steely edge to it. “You know that I love Harry like if he was my own son but never say that again. Don’t even joke about that. Harry will live until he is old and toothless if I have anything to say, but *never* ask me to choose him over you and Lily.”

James’ eyes flashed, his free hand turning into a fist. “Damn it, Sirius! He is our son! If we have to give our lives to ensure that he will live then we will do so! And if you’re my friend – my brother - then you will do as I ask you to do!”

“That was low, James.” Sirius said in a quiet voice.

That seemed to calm James somewhat. “I know. But I didn’t say it to hurt you but to make you understand how things are, what Lily and I feel. We want you to be prepared for the worst, Sirius, for your own good as much as ours.”

Sirius sighed deeply. “All right, I got it... but that doesn’t mean that I have to like it.”

Gently, Lily looked at Sirius and once again, as many others, he was left breathless by the life one could find in those emerald like eyes. “We know that, Sirius, and that’s why we want to ask you to be our secret keeper.”

For a moment Sirius remained silent, pondering... until he spoke.

“Who knows that I’m going to be your secret keeper? Does anybody know yet?”

Relief in their faces, the couple looked at each other before James answered his best friend. “No one but Dumbledore...” He frowned. “But it will be known in the ministry - that I’m sure of.”

Sirius nodded. “Good. The more people know, the better it will be.”

Blinking in confusion, Lily and James exchanged concerned looks.

“What do you mean?” Lily asked.

Sirius gave them a half smile. “As we mentioned before, James, the information will leak somehow, making easier for You-Know-Who or one of his spies to learn about the Fidelius. That’s what I want. We make everybody, even Dumbledore, to believe that I’m the secret keeper. That will make You-Know-Who’s attention shift to me, thus hiding the true secret keeper, making you impossible to find.”

James almost jumped from his seat, whole body tensed in rebellion only restrained by Lily’s hand on him. “No, Sirius, that would be too dangerous! I will not allow you to sacrifice your life in such a way...”

“Look, James, the cold fact is that whether I’m the secret keeper or not I’m also on You-Know-Who’s list. I’m also hunted by the Dark Side... a dead man walking. Me being the secret keeper or not being will change nothing but it will buy you time. For you, Lily, and Harry. Even if in the end I get but days before the truth is out it will be worth it.”

“I don’t like it, Sirius...” James spat.

Sirius nodded. “Maybe. But you don’t have to like it... you only have to go along with my plan.”

“Oh? And who will be the Secretkeeper, wise arse? Got that covered too?”

Sirius smiled thinly. “Oh yeah... in fact it will be the one person that no one would ever suspect. Peter.”

James’ eyes widened in disbelief. “Peter? You have got to kidding me!”

“Not in the slightest. I’m dead serious here, James. Peter adores you both and no one would think that he would be your secret keeper, there are too many more powerful wizards who would be asked instead. That will make Peter pretty invisible. He would be the perfect man for that.”

“I still think that a bludger hit your head too many times. There is no way I am going to agree to this. Peter may have been a Marauder; he may have kept Remus’ secret; All three of us may have been Animagi, but I don’t trust him with this.”

Sirius looked at Lily and could see that his idea had interested her. She nodded as he sent a silent plea to her.

“But don’t you see it, James?” she said, drawing her husband’s attention away from his friend. “Precisely because you wouldn’t choose him is what would make Peter such a good secret keeper. Think about it. Sirius is too obvious and we know that we can’t trust Remus. Why don’t you trust Peter? He’s our friend, a part of the family.”

James remained silent, his brown eyes gleaming, dark by his emotions. Both Lily and Sirius knew that his mind was in a storm, thinking and rethinking, battling with his emotions, weighting each possibility in the coldest mind he could achieve even with his blood pounding in his ears and heart.

Finally he sighed, lying back against his chair. “Very well. You win. I don’t even know why I bother. I can’t refuse anything you ask me when it’s the two of you. And when you make sense of course... we will owl Peter first thing in the morning.”

What he didn’t say was that something hadn’t felt right, that when Sirius proposed Peter as their secret keeper his heart had stopped for a moment, frozen in dread... and that feeling of disaster looming above them did nothing to help.

And still he couldn’t find fault in their reasoning, for all they said made sense... The plan despite its simplicity was a good one and after the horrible possibility of Voldemort controlling Remus even against his will, the rush of distrust against Peter was disturbing, so unlike his usual feelings towards the little man.

So he surrendered putting aside his fears that he hoped were unfounded. They would do as they he said, owling Peter as soon as possible. Right now James only wanted to go and hold Harry in his arms, as strongly as he could, feeling his paradise with him in his arms and Lily by his side.

As long as he could.

As long as the world outside his house allowed it.

What no one could know, what wouldn’t be known until it was too late, was that they had already been betrayed.

And that betrayal would shatter James’ paradise.

---------------------------------------

She landed softly, her death soundless.

No cry of pain, nothing.

From her now lifeless eyes tears still streamed even as the one-year-old boy pushed her with his little arms, searching for some comforting sign from that source of warmth and the love and comfort she usually offered. His mind, still young, had to realize what had happened but that was impossible for now. He would understand it years later and then he would realize that what happened was evil, wasn’t meant to be, that it was something that should have been prevented.

But as for now the mind couldn’t name it, couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong with his mother but his instinct was screaming that something had gone awry, that something really bad had happened.

And the tall man in dark robes was the source of that wrong.

His young mind was still free of the concepts of good or evil but it could, in an abstract fashion, recognize that figure as something that had taken from him something needed, something... something that he had already lost before... something that the mind knew was now lost forever. It determined that it was angry at that figure, at the source of that sense of wrong.

Very angry.

As that was happening in the mind of one Harry Potter Voldemort admired the scene in front of him.

Potter was dead, something that wasn’t that important - one more death that would show the futility of opposing him and his might. It would make people realize that no one was safe from him, not even under the protection of that fool Dumbledore. The Potters’ death would be a mighty blow against the hopes of the wizarding world and that would but hasten the day of his victory.

The girl, that mudblood was of little importance, her death was but one out of thousands. One of thousands. Her death at this point was nothing he cared about, something that to him was now as natural as breath yet those that believed that Lord Voldemort killed thoughtlessly were wrong.

Death was final. Deliverance from the suffering he alone was allowed to impart. He preferred to see his enemies wither away under the Cruciatus curse than a relatively painless death caused by the Avada Kedavra. Where was the point of showing kindness to his enemies when he wanted them to suffer beyond the limits of their bodies, beyond the limits of the mind to keep itself whole?

He would have preferred to have her living, knowing that her husband’s sacrifice had been a waste with her living on as the main witness of the way he transformed an innocent child - her son - into a mindless weapon. He would have preferred that torment than ending her life.

And yet, with a glance he had known that she would have never released her son, her love preventing it. She would have never let her son go, not even under the Imperius curse or any other form of torture. That would have been but a loss of time.

Of his precious time.

Voldemort snorted, something that he *never* did in front of his followers.

The woman, even in her death, refused to let go of her son.

With a kick he shoved her body away and even if there wasn’t much strength behind the movement, it was enough to make her turn, making her lifeless eyes look at the roof of the room, her arms sprawled, her body in a position like that of a cross.

The baby’s hand lost contact with his mother’s and slowly, silently the infant’s head rose until his wide blue eyes locked with Voldemort’s green ones.

The older man, a being who was feared all throughout the world, a being whose name people not even dared to say, stepped back under the force of that stare, suddenly feeling something that he had almost forgotten, something that he believed to be beyond since a long time.

Fear.

Pure, unadulterated fear.

Up to that point he had planned to take the boy and discover what was so important about him. He knew that the boy was special. He knew that Dumbledore’s efforts were more for protecting that boy than the parents themselves. He knew that the boy was a key to powers untold; that only his mind could find a way to utilize them to their full potential; a potential that he would use to his gain.

Up to that point he had believed that he could tame those powers, that he could use them to reach sovereignty in the world. He would have distilled that power for himself or had the boy turned into one of his followers, raising him, brainwashing him to have only him, Voldemort, as master and lord... turned him into a perfect, mindless Dead Eater as his own followers were doing with their sons and daughters.

But those deep blue eyes held a totally different message.

Hate.

Hate burned into them, or at least what passed as hate in a seemingly one-year-old boy. That and something that Voldemort couldn’t name but could understand perfectly. It was a feeling of challenge, a taunt to him, a way the boy had to tell him that he would never serve him, at least not willingly. A feeling that was mocking him, telling him that he would never tame him no matter how hard he tried.

Voldemort soon had a grip on himself again, his ego giving him the boost he needed to crush down the feeling of fear that had been born in his dark heart. Muttering, he looked at the boy who hadn’t made a sound, not even when he killed his mother.

“So this is what you feel when you have a mortal enemy..” he mumbled silently.

But as much as the boy was his enemy, as much as he felt that this toddler was a danger to him, the boy was defenseless.

Stealthily, he pointed his wand towards the boy, aiming at his head as he summoned his full power, the darkness in the house becoming alive. The tip of his black wand glowed emerald green and kept growing until Voldemort, the Dark Lord, the most feared wizard in a century shouted two words that meant immediate death.

“Avada Kedavra!”

That was a mistake that Voldemort would learn to regret in the years to come because with those two words he lost it all.

Green light blasted from the wand and connected with the boy’s forehead but instead of killing the boy upon contact as was normal, the skin split open with a loud “crack”, blood flowing freely even as a chain reaction started building with explosive results.

The Avada Kedavra, also known as the Killing Curse, was a terrible weapon, rightly feared by the magic community world wide. It killed upon contact and so far no counter curse had been found. It mattered little if the victim was human or animal, Muggle or magical. To the ones hearing those two words it was the end of the road, their bodies not showing any mark but empty eyes, where all light of life had been snuffed out.

Still as powerful as this curse was it had never encountered anything like what it was trying to kill.

Harry Potter, Kal-el of the now gone planet of Krypton, was far beyond humanity even in the early levels of his maturation and the curse, had it some sort of intelligence, would have been driven insane as it fought something that in all its centuries of existence it had never encountered.

Not only the physiology of the Kryptonian was totally alien to the forces at work in the casting of the curse but that wasn’t the only thing at work to prevent the destruction of the life of the last member of an almost extinct race.

Kal-el had been bathed in the radiation of the yellow sun as soon as he had entered our solar system and, even with the magic at work that regressed him to allow Lily to carry him, he had continued to store the energy that one day would make him something almost god-like.

And if that wasn’t enough there were other forces even more powerful than Harry’s that were protecting him.

In years to come Harry would believe that it was Lily’s love that had shielded him from the Dark Lord’s curse that fateful night and it was true...

But it wasn’t the *whole* truth.

What Harry wouldn’t discover until a long time later was that his true parents, his Kryptonian parents, Jor-el and Lara, had also loved him; loved him enough to save him from a dying planet; loved him enough to give him a chance to have a future even if they would not live to see it. That love that was already within Harry had been joined by Lily’s.

Against all that, the curse didn’t stand a chance in fulfilling its original purpose. But such a powerful spell would leave some aftereffects that would shape Harry’s life in the years to come.

Even as it was rejected, the curse was sent back towards its caster who had been watching with growing fear how the boy’s little body glowed bright green for a moment when the curse touched him. Then a bolt of emerald energy shoot from the boy’s bleeding scar to impact against him, searing pain shooting through his chest, where the reflected curse hit him.

Voldemort could feel the curse cutting through the threads that held him connected with his own body, he could feel how life was slowly stripped from him, how he started to lose the connection to the mortal plane and he could feel how for a timeless moment he was connected to the boy, but even that came to an end as his body’s life force waned, even as a pain even worse than the Cruciatus overcame him.

Anyone else would have died or turned crazy by the sheer suffering that was rending asunder his body and soul but Voldemort had his own dark magic trying to fight back the power of his Avada Kedavra along with a willpower made of tempered steel, a will that had plunged the world into shadows for more than a full decade

For years he had searched all around the world for a mean to defeat death itself and, even if he hadn’t found the way to achieve that much, he had enough knowledge extracted from his experiments to prevent death from taking him totally.

He sunk to his knees and his body was consumed to ashes, as the world around him and the boy started to shake due to the power being unleashed from his decaying body. He could feel his sprit escape from death’s cold fingers, his drive to survive this struggle more powerful than even the pull he was feeling in his spirit’s core, in the deepest depths of his dark soul.

The last thing he was aware of before the house exploded and he was propelled away by his own magical power unleashed was the baby screaming in pain and his eyes following him as he fled. Once again he was able to admire those eyes and he knew that one day they would face each other again... and when the time came he had all intentions of getting his revenge.

It was but a matter of time really.

Still those two eyes, those two eyes which now shone like gleaming emeralds due to the Avada Kedavra, promised him the same thing.

The house crashed around them and only darkness reigned around them.

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The wailing of a baby was what directed the big man through the rubble of the Potter house at Godric’s hollow.

All around him was blackened, wood turned to charcoal, still flaming. A scene of despair and the man could feel the tears falling from his eyes into his beard. He would have dropped to his knees and joined the wailing if it wasn’t because he had a mission to fulfil. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and gamekeeper at Hogwarts, preferred kissing a Dementor before failing a task given to him by the school’s headmaster.

The cry was coming from a section of the house that had collapsed, bearing the same signs of destruction as the rest of the house. With barely any effort the giant lifted the piece of the house only to take a step back at the scene in front of him, more tears falling from his eyes as he felt his heart break.

There, lying unmoving, was the body of Lily Potter. The unique vibrancy that had set her apart was gone as her empty eyes looked at the starry sky without really seeing anything. That was enough to bring forth another round of tears to Hagrid’s dark eyes. The sight of Lily’s body was almost a joke to him, a sick joke that seemed to mock the young girl who had always been so full of life, with a desire to enjoy it to its fullest.

Slowly, as if to not disturb her, Hagrid’s big fingers reached Lily’s eyes and with a gentleness that belied his size closed her eyes. Like that she seemed to be only asleep, no mark marring her beauty and even between his tears, Hagrid almost had the impression that she was smiling lightly.

Passing his hands roughly upon his face to wipe away his tears, Hagrid turned to look at Harry.

The boy had stopped crying once he saw Hagrid tend to his mother and was looking at him, his eyes wide.

It wasn’t the first time that Hagrid had seen the boy but he couldn’t help but inhale sharply as he took in for the first time the boy’s face.

Gone were his deep blue eyes and now they seemed to be a set of gleaming emeralds, identical to his mother’s in an uncanny way that Hagrid found disconcerting.

But it was the wound on the boy’s forehead that demanded all his attention, despite the fact that it was covered with what could only be blood.

From one of his numerous pockets, Hagrid produced a grubby handkerchief and tenderly washed away the dried substance from the boy’s face leaving the forming scar free.

As a being who was part-giant as well as wizard, Hagrid recognized things that most wizards generally overlook and right now one of those was the power that was leaking from the strange scar, not unlike the blood that had flown from it before. The magical energy had a clear dark signature that was fading but that Hagrid found rather disturbing as he *knew* what had produced that wound... and if that was true then it was impossible that the young boy remained alive.

And yet...

Shaking his head, Hagrid produced a clean blanket and with the same care as he had closed the eyes of the infant’s mother wrapped it around the small baby. The boy looked up at him with those now green eyes, those eyes that seemed to hold something that was older than his young frame, eyes that seemed to ask him what would come next.

Hagrid sighed as new tears threatened to fall from his eyes.

“All will be fine, lad... all will be fine...I swear... all will be fine...”

And under the darkness of the night the scar glowed, it too promising something.

Something ominous.

2. Summer of Discoveries (Part 1.1)

Last Son of Krypton

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

By Dragonlord

Author�s notes:

1/To those smart readers out there, a game. I have purposely put some references to other shows in the fic. It�s up to you to find them... You know the drill; Gotta catch them all!

2/ For the Kryptonian background I have decided to make a fusion between several sources, mainly the post-Crisis Superman, the first Superman movie, the Animates Series and, of course, the Smallville show that is the main reason why I have started this fic. In other words this version of Superman will be vastly different from those sources but having elements of all. This said, any contribution to the back ground, especially old Krypton, Jor-El, Kem-L and the House of El is more than welcome.

3/ As you may notice this chapter is split in two. Next part should be ready for next week.

4/ This goes 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, Amber, 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!!

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

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 your time. Otherwise C&C welcome! (and don�t forget to review ^_^)

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Chapter two: Summer of discoveries

Part 1.1

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"Normal? Normal! I would give anything to be normal!"

Clark Kent, Smallville

The sun�s light streamed through the hand-carved windows of Assim�s home.

He was an old man, a very old man whose skin had been perpetually darkened by the exposure to the life-giving star.

Old skin - dry and wrinkled like the bark of an old tree. Hair and beard white - nearly yellow with the grace of time. Dark tired eyes that had seen their share of tragic events in this land forgotten by the gods a long time ago.

A land forgotten by the race of men, none of them remaining willingly in this corner of the world.

But not Assim. He had chosen freely to remain, even when everything else had turned to dust and joined the sand of the desert, carried by an uncaring wind.

There was no bitterness in that decision. It was simply the way his life had passed, unfolding with the coming and going of the days.

Still, years ago he could have done so, moved out of this cursed place, but now age failed him.

Too old to search for a new place for himself. Too old to really care. He had lost everything to the many wars waged for the possession of the liquid of life, the so very precious water. Wars that had spilled red blood upon scorching ground.

The blood of his family for instance, while he had survived bearing the suffering that such events brought to his heart.

When that had happened, when he had awakened with his body screaming in pain from the bullet wound that had nearly cut the thread of his life, the emotional pain that came from looking at his slaughtered family had almost succeeded where the weapons of men had failed.

Wars had chased the few men and women that remained still in this forgotten land away and the very wars led those waging them away from what was now a wasteland.

Wars had come and gone, while the sun�s heat descended violently against the dry land like a merciless hammer, pitting itself against a cold so intense that through the night the only sound crossing the landscape was of those stones that split open from the inside, due to the action of those two opposed but mighty forces

So Assim continued living there, as well as he could, living on the mountainside in a man-made cave where he passed his days in meditation and searching his mind for the keys of the mysteries of the world, of the ways of men and gods.

His home was bare to the most basic of elements. Stone walls, stone bed, stone kitchen... a single hole in this rising rib of the earth that sufficed to cater to his needs, his body not needing much at this point of his life.

He needed little, after all, to guard what had been entrusted to him by his father, as his father had been by Assim�s grandfather.

It was a task that began from events that no one recalled anymore - a task that had been entrusted to Assim�s family since the dawn of time, or so said his father when Assim was still a young boy, sitting upon the knees of that beloved figure, gazing attentively into those two dark eyes that burned with warmth and some personal wisdom.

Each time that Assim looked at it, at the object he guarded, he could feel a sort of comfort fill him. And when he touched it, the sensation felt like all the good memories of his life had come back to him, soothing his aching soul.

Like when he had first looked upon his wife, or when he had held his first child in his arms... moments of incredible joy and perfect simplicity, of righteousness. Hundreds of those moments of happiness coursing through him, sometimes making tears of contentment flow down his wrinkled cheeks.

When he had been a child and his father had let him touch it, he would feel the same way. When he had asked his father why it was so, his father would smile mysteriously and tell him that it was the gods who embraced him, all that was good and worthwhile in this world and those beyond.

Assim soon found that it was a comforting thought, and a truth as valid as any other explanation.

The old man always kept it in the same place, hanging from the wall, in a special niche carved in the living stone. There it rested, but even so it always seemed to glow softly and hum slightly when he was near it, as if answering to his presence... what Assim believed to be greetings from the artifact.

Each time Assim looked at it he was amazed by the skill that had been used in its crafting.

A perfect disc, barely a foot in diameter.

It wasn�t made of stone or of metal, but it had the smooth touch of both when they have been handles by the hands of master crafters, its surface unblemished by the pass of time, intact and seemingly indestructible by physical violence.

Its edge was black, dark flames reaching towards the center but barely crossing an inch from the border. The flames contained strange designs and unknown signs that could be found on both sides of the disc. Still the most interesting part was the center of it, the space that started from the point where the flames ended to its very center.

In that inner space a large symbol could be seen, its ebony black color a contrast to the curves and lines of gleaming cobalt blue and ruby red that could be found behind it on a second plane. Even if those signs, lines and symbols had any meaning or some secret purpose, Assim simply ignored it despite what it could be.

He only knew that it was an object that needed to be protected at all costs - what sometimes bothered him. He had no ill illusion that he could protect it�he knew he couldn�t. He was too weak for that, an old man waiting for death to finally come to him.

Still sometimes when he held the disc, visions would come to him. Some, he knew as a man knows his own name, where from the future, his future.

Others, the most common, of far away lands were a mystery to him. He would see men and women doing things that he couldn�t understand but supposed that they held some importance. Still, if those visions were of the past, of the present or concerning the future it was impossible for him to know.

Lately when Assim touched the disc a single vision would come to him. During the last three weeks it had been the same and he knew that what he was looking at would happen, no matter what. He knew he should be feeling something other than resignation, but strangely it wasn�t the case.

Some sadness... yes, there was some of that. Of course. But at the same time there was a feeling of anticipation, as though what was about to happen would give him something that he had sought without knowing - really knowing.

A measure of peace.

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It was a morning like any other and Assim was kneeling as he prayed, his back turned to the door and windows through which the light of the sun came, carrier of the usual heat.

Assim had his eyes closed, as ever in those moments when he prayed to the few gods he knew and still believed in.

Then suddenly, Assim knew that he was no longer alone. He didn�t need the knowledge the visions gave him to know that. After decades of solitude such intrusion was easily noticed.

With unearthly calm, Assim rose, dusted the front of his trousers and turned to face the intruder.

He was tall and male - that much, Assim could tell from his form and overall shape, but he was clothed entirely in black robes, the hood pulled up to hide the features of the man.

One thing aroused Assim�s interest. The man seemed to radiate cold, as though the sun shunned him. The sun and anything that came in contact with him, that was, and it wasn�t hard to believe that this being was repudiated by anything that was natural. Even the very air seemed to recoil from that frame, sickened by the contact.

"I have come for the Seal, old man."

Assim sighed and nodded. But even so he remained there, between the stranger and the softly glowing disc.

"You dare to oppose me?" asked the voice, cold and full of contempt.

"I do not. This has been the mission of my line and yet I know that nothing I can say or do will steer you from your path."

The voice, coming from the unfathomable deeps of the hood, snickered.

"A fool�s errand, old man. The Seal is mine."

Assim sadly shook his head. "You call me a fool but you are an even greater one. Claiming the Seal with violence leads only to destruction. That much, I know."

The tall man laughed, a sound that seemed the very opposite to what laughter should be; a negation of joy born out of innocent happiness; that was the only kind of laughter this aberration could give.

"You know nothing, old man. You and your line of pathetic worms have guarded it without really knowing what it was - maggots guarding a key by some obscure twist of fate. Even your touch soils its very essence," Then he started to move. "And your blood will wash that filth away."

Assim saw how the man produced a dagger, its slender blade gleaming coldly as the light of the sun reflected off it.

He did nothing to defend himself. He didn�t move when the man raised it high in the air; did nothing as the blade flashed and bit into his flesh, sinking easily into it, parting wrinkled skin, feeble muscles and thin bones in its path, the dagger sinking to the hilt in his body. And yet he remained silent even when the blood hit his mouth and drenched his killer�s robes and hand with it.

Silently, Assim fell backwards, death already claiming him softly and gently. He wasn�t even aware of his body hitting the ground of his home. But he did see the robed man move aside as he advanced, sidestepping past his body, no longer thinking about him as he moved to claim the legacy of Assim�s forefathers.

The last image to reach Assim�s eyes, as life slowly left his mortal body, was the bloodied hands of the aberration taking the Seal, his own blood soiling it. For one last moment the old man could feel the sadness that came from the softly glowing disc, as if it knew the tragic fate of its guardian.

For one last irrational moment of his life, the dying man had wanted to comfort it, to tell his old companion that everything was right at last.

But then, to him, to Assim ibn Kassem, born two hundred and sixty-four years ago in a desolated land, those things lost his interest as the dreamless sleep of death finally claimed him.

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Far away,

Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry

Paintings of past headmasters, men and women of all ages and appearances, spoke among themselves about the latest gossip going around the paintings while others were engrossed in books dealing with some obscure (and generally useless) facet of magic.

On each wall a bookshelf could be found, filled till it almost burst with dusty tomes that, as every book in this thousand-year-old school did, dealt with magic or the world that used it. They were dusty as few knew of their existence and even fewer sought the knowledge that could be found on those yellowing pages.

Along with the books, various gadgets and other rare items were on display, each making a noise of its own as the magically-powered mechanics moved from side to side, up and down, in and out and so on as they had since the day Albus Dumbledore had taken his position as Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

To some, all those strange items were but a faint reflection of their owner�s personality. Many would call it eccentric, while others would see them as another sign that something wasn�t right with the old wizard�s mind, not withstanding the fact that he was considered by many one of the world�s more powerful magic users.

On the upper level of the room, where the desk of the headmaster was situated, one could find a fireplace. The strange thing was, throughout the year, even in summer, a fire burned in it, its flames dancing gently and giving off part of the heat that made the room so welcoming, another facet that could be attributed to its current owner.

To further the surprise, a gold-and crimson-feathered phoenix could be found perched on a golden stand beside the desk, what in itself was a sign of the more than declared light side of its owner. Said phoenix was softly humming tunes which spread through the room - sounds that would have filled anyone hearing them with happiness, courage and sheer well-being as if warm sweet honey had been infused into the very corners of the listener.

But that day Fawkes� ethereal music couldn�t penetrate the boredom the tedious task of paperwork that claimed Dumbledore every year brought to the old wizard�s mind.

Had it been up to him, Albus would have gladly exchanged his discovery about the twelve uses of dragon�s blood for a way to be free of paperwork... truly a curse for both the magical and muggle worlds.

The headmaster was still pondering how to get out of the fix he was now in (again), when a knock made Albus look up from his desk where at least half a dozen files were open and pages and parchments lay scattered upon the large desk.

Putting the quill back in the ink bottle, Dumbledore spoke, his voice clear and strong.

"Come in."

The door opened and Harry Potter entered the room.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Harry asked, the tone of his voice even - yet Dumbledore knew that the boy was intrigued by his summons to the headmaster�s sanctum.

Smiling slightly, the old wizard gestured for Harry to sit in the chair in front of his desk. The young man complied immediately, his small frame sinking into the huge chair that made even the most mature wizard feel somewhat childlike.

Albus took the time to observe Harry attentively.

At fifteen years old, Harry was small for his age (even some of the younger students were taller than him), and if that wasn�t enough he was rather skinny and offered an image of being, at best, underfed even though the food provided at Hogwarts was enough to keep any student from that state of health.

His hair was still the same mass of untamed locks, wild black hair that seemed to have been styled during a Quidditch match, looking as though it had never met a brush. His skin was pale - not something too unusual in good old Britain but still...

Round glasses, the same year after year, looked battered and ready to break despite the restorative effects of the reparo charm and could barely hide his gleaming green eyes, that day by day seemed to shine more and more.

And of course the ever present scar that under the light that streamed through the windows appeared in all its glory, the jagged line seeming to give off a light of its own.

And if one looked at his aura...

Thanks the Heavens that it was a rare skill.

"Sir? You wanted to see me? If it�s about the OWLs..."

Sighing, Dumbledore shook his head

"Nothing about that, dear boy... the reason I asked Minerva to tell you to meet me is because a certain situation, which has presented itself, concerns you directly. Nothing too serious, I assure you but that puts me and the Ministry at odds in some way..."

Then he smiled. "Nothing new, I�m afraid." Pause. "Still it is something that will lead to you making an important decision."

Dumbledore lay back in his own chair, his eyes never wavering from Harry�s face, taking in all his expressions. "You see, Harry, a few days ago I got a letter from your legal guardians, the Dursleys. They communicated to whomever was responsible for you within the wizarding world that they refused adamantly to let you return to their house for the summer and, as things stand right now, for the next two years until your legal adulthood. In short they cut all links with you and your mother."

From his slack jaw and wide eyes Dumbledore knew that this bit of news had taken the teenager totally by surprise.

"What? But... I�m... well�I�m confused about this, sir. It�s kind of unexpected even if the Dursleys have all my life made what they thought of me very clear."

Harry paused, searching for the right words. This was so unexpected that it had taken him by surprise - perhaps even shock.

"Despite the fact that we didn�t get along, I felt that they would always be there. Or at least as long as I�m underage. I always told myself that I didn�t care about them, that I would be better off without them in my life but they are, or were, part of my family. And now... I don�t know what to think or feel."

Dumbledore nodded wisely, stroking his silvery white beard. "Perfectly understandable, Harry. Still this leaves us in a delicate situation. A situation that I must now describe to you."

Harry nodded, signaling for the older wizard to continue.

"As you know, ancient magic has been summoned to your protection as long as you lived with those who shared the same blood with you, namely your aunt and your cousin. This demanded special measures to be taken by the Ministry in the times that followed Voldemort�s first downfall. Back then, Bartemius Crouch Senior, along with many others, knew that your safety was paramount to anything else."

Dumbledore stopped, his eyes alight with a strange glow and suddenly Harry�s mind wandered back a year ago when he had stumbled across the headmaster�s Pensieve. The old wizard had showed him how it worked - when he had too many thoughts in his head, he removed them with his wand before sending them into the magical object.

Now he had the same expression on his face, his eyes reflecting those hidden thoughts and memories. Memories that Harry couldn�t even begin to imagine.

Dumbledore�s voice returned and Harry had the impression of a hidden bitterness in it. "At that time we had the full support of the Ministry. Now the situation has changed and not all of it is good. Even with the rise of the Dark Arts across the globe and almost daily Death Eater attacks, Fudge refuses to acknowledge Voldemort�s return. This put us in a situation that is very dangerous, as the Ministry refuses to find some ways to protect you until the time you are of age as they insist there is nothing to worry about."

"As such they are pressuring me for a solution to your lack of guardians. If I can�t find a way to protect you without their help they will place you into a foster home where they expect you to be taken care of. Already some wizards have volunteered for that position and of those, the one that has the best chance of becoming your guardian through wizarding laws is Lucius Mafoy."

Harry�s eyes bulged as his face paled even more.

"But that would be like giving me to Voldemort himself!"

Dumbledore nodded. "We both know that. But to Fudge it makes sense. Not only does he refuse to even admit that Voldemort is back, he sees this as an opportunity to not only be in Lucius�s good graces but also as a way to smooth things over by giving your custody to a wizard who despite his notorious past as a follower of Voldemort is now, and I quote our dear minister here - "

Clearing his voice, Dumbledore started reading from one of the many pages upon the desk, his voice denuded of emotion but his blue eyes seemed made entirely of ice as the words spilled from his mouth.

"One of our magical world�s most revered citizens, who works for the greater good of our society, donating huge amounts of money to charitable organizations worldwide, a natural-born leader who, through his actions, gives us a better lifestyle. Personally I feel that we could not ask for a better role model for our young friend who, I must say again, has not got the best track record for a citizen with such fame like his."

"Shall I continue?"

Harry waved off Dumbledore�s offer, all the while looking ready to tear something apart.

"I�m going to be sick" was the only thing that he said but his green eyes burned with an inner fire that the old wizard found in some way comforting. That was the way Harry had taken challenges ever since his terrible ordeal during his fourth year of schooling, looking as if he was ready to shake the pillars of the world.

Chuckling and eyes twinkling, Dumbledore continued. "I share your feelings, Harry, but this is not the moment to go on a rampage. As with many things we have to make the best of it. This situation has forced us to act. The Dursleys� decision may be unexpected and it may give us some problems, but we have lost nothing. Instead I will have to put in motion some of the dispositions I prepared once, when I left you more than fourteen years ago on the Dursleys� porch."

"You see, dear Minerva told me it was a mistake leaving you in the Dursleys� care many years ago. However, even if I regret that you grew up without love, I could never regret the way you are now, or how those years shaped you to be the young man that I know would have made your parents very proud."

"Returning to the matters at hand, back then, I took some time to come up with some alternatives in case something like this happened. As it didn�t, you continued living with your aunt and uncle, none the wiser of it."

Harry swallowed. "But, sir, with all due respect, didn�t you find it strange that I asked time and time again to go and spend summers with Ron�s family? Why did you keep forcing me to live with people who hate anything that is not what they think it should be? Who hate me only because I am a wizard?"

Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment before answering bluntly.

"Because I preferred to see you unhappy rather than see you dead, Harry. Voldemort may have found his demise when the Killing Curse backfired, but even so he had fanatically faithful followers, Death Eaters who would have done anything to be able to kill you in the mad hope that they could return their master back from whatever state he was in."

"Think about the Longbottoms, Harry, it is true that they were tortured by the Lestranges and other Death Eaters as they searched for a way to find Voldemort and bring him back to power... But it was after they searched for you. Unable to bypass the magic that could only be summoned through the blood link you had with your aunt they started to search for their Dark Lord, knowing that someone of his might couldn�t be defeated that easily."

For a moment Harry remained silent before speaking and Dumbledore knew that Harry was blaming himself.

"I wasn�t aware of that, professor. Sorry."

Dumbledore waved his hand, dismissing Harry�s excuse, but his face was grave, the usual twinkle missing from his eyes.

"I know, and I apologize for being too blunt. But you must understand that generally I have a reason behind doing something... even when it pains me to do so."

The old wizard sighed and suddenly the twinkle in his eyes was back. Clearing his throat, Dumbledore continued. "But the present situation demands for me to use those measures. It is quite simple, but if not for that lacking quality. The most simple option would be to find you a new home amongst your fellow classmates here at Hogwarts."

"The situation demands for a magical family or, if not possible, one with strong ties to you. If it was possible, I would entrust your security to Sirius or Remus but, for obvious reasons, that is not possible even if it would have been perfect. That option being closed to us, I would have requested for the Ministry to let you stay with the Weasleys or if it wasn�t possible, at your friend Hermione�s home."

Harry�s eyes shone with mad hope which made Dumbledore sigh ruefully.

"Sadly, both alternatives have but scant chance of being accepted by our dear Minister Fudge. For starters, Lucius will point out Arthur�s economic situation that, as sad as it sounds, is barely enough to sustain his own family. As for the Grangers, it is even worse as he would express his outrage at the Boy Who Lived himself being taken in by a Muggle family. I am sure you know the Ministry�s stand on issues of blood."

Silently Harry nodded, clearly not pleased.

"In short, if I present your friends families as options to your guardianship, Lucius will find a way to bypass that and would soon be elected as your legal guardian with the blessings of the Ministry. Without a doubt the other pureblooded families under Voldemort�s command will support him."

"Then what can we do?" asked Harry in a voice that reminded the older wizard of the eleven-year-old kid who had just faced Voldemort for the first time; lost but willing to go on.

Dumbledore smiled.

"Well, that depends... would you fancy some tropical vacations, Harry?"

Harry blinked. "Uh? Excuse me, professor - I don�t get you."

Dumbledore laughed.

"It�s quite easy, dear boy. I�m going on a sabbatical this summer far from Hogwarts and the staff has already agreed to take me far away from here by force if need be. So I have three full months in some still unknown place in the tropics. White sand, clear water, glorious sunsets... what I am asking you is if you would like to share that time with me."

"But what does that have to do with what we were talking about before, Professor?"

"It�s rather simple, Harry. I�m willing to propose that the Ministry shift your custody to me and introduce you to the Dumbledore clan registry, thus becoming related to me by magical law. As you may not know, my family is rather old by wizarding standards and, pardon me if I sound boastful, is better seen than Lucius�s with a blood that has been always pure even if we as a whole scoff at the division."

"With immediate effect, your introduction into my family would officially make me your legal guardian, at least until we are able to clear Sirius�s name... but until then you will stay with me during the summers and have a home at my ancestral house."

Suddenly Dumbledore looked unsure, as though he had discovered a flaw to his plan.

"That is unless you are against this solution. It is your choice, but know that even if you don�t accept it, it may be asked of you to remain here at Hogwarts for the next two summers... after that we shall see, but once you have reached your legal age and graduated from here, remember that you will always be welcome, if not at this school, then at my own home."

Harry was in a daze, not believing what the headmaster was offering him.

"Now I know it is an important decision to make, so if you wish to, I can leave you here alone for a short period of time while I speak with some of the heads of houses about this year�s examination results..."

Still, Harry had yet to say or do something but what the old wizard had told him was almost too much for him to deal with.

It wasn�t only the offer of becoming a member of Dumbledore�s family. With those few words the old wizard had made some of Harry�s most desired wishes a reality. But even beyond that, it was the fact that he would be able to remain in Hogwarts for the summer whether he accepted or did not accept Dumbledore�s offer...

Being able to remain at Hogwarts, at his real home, for the summer, away from the scorn and the Dursleys� psychological abuse, away from the privation they enjoyed inflicting upon him, was his greatest desire since he first realized that he wasn�t staying at the place he belonged, five years ago on the train back to King�s Cross, when he had gazed back at Hogwarts which was closing for the summer.

"Is everything alright, Harry?" asked Dumbledore, his old gentle voice reaching him even through his memories of his first year at the school of wizardry.

Said Gryffindor student was jolted from his deep thought as a blush spread upon his cheeks.

"NO!" Then realizing that he had shouted at the current Headmaster (which was reason enough for some of the past Headmasters in the walls to shake their heads at him in disapproval) he shook his head before speaking again. "Ah. No... I�m sorry, Professor, but yes, I�m alright..."

"I�m happy to hear that..." began Dumbledore before being cut off by a now ecstatic fifth-year.

"And it will be an honor, sir," Harry said quickly. "If you want me, then I�m more than happy to remain under your custody and be a part of your family. I�ve no need to take time to think that over."

"Good!" Dumbledore smiled, his blue eyes twinkling with joy. "Then once classes end we will start planning our little trip. I�m sure that Miss Granger will be more than willing to help us out with this little task." He paused his expression still merry. "That is, if the staff hadn�t arranged it all by now. Even so I�m sure we could use miss Granger�s help. Don�t you think so Harry?"

Harry nodded even if his gesture was slightly hesitant, something which Dumbledore picked up immediately, a concerned expression appearing on his wrinkled face.

"Is there a problem between you and miss Granger, Harry?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer before pausing, blinking and shutting his mouth again. Still it only took Dumbledore one look at Harry�s eyes for this one defenses to crumble down. As things were, Harry suspected that the old wizard already knew about it.

Back in first year he had told Ron and Hermione that he believed that Dumbledore knew most of what happened within Hogwarts�s walls. Now, four years later, he knew that wasn�t true but it was damned near the truth as long as it didn�t concern Voldemort directly.

The question was, how much of the truth did Dumbledore know?

"If you don�t mind, sir, I�d rather not talk about that."

Dumbledore�s eyes clouded more, probably in concern, Harry guessed.

The younger wizard sighed.

"It�s nothing... important, Professor, and there�s not a thing that you or anyone else can do."

The old wizard sighed, his eyes looking suddenly old and terribly sad. Abruptly, Harry simply realized that Dumbledore knew what was going on. And yet what he said was true: no one could do anything about that.

For a moment the only sound that filled the air was of the fire in the hearth of the room, of the burning wood that crackled from time to time. Both wizards were deep in thought and even Fawkes was silent, no longer humming his enchanted notes. Finally Harry looked up at the headmaster.

"If that�s all, may I return to the common room?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Of course, Harry. But keep in mind that I may summon you to arrange some of the details of our trip and, as sad as it sounds, paperwork that the ministry may request. Still, until then you may go."

He paused as if considering before speaking softly, knowing that Harry, who was already half way to the door may not hear him.

"Have faith, Harry."

The boy gave no indication that he had heard the old sage as he closed the door behind him and Dumbledore once again sighed, wondering when life would give a break to the young wizard...

Something unlikely in all accounts.

Harry�s life was about to change dramatically once again, as if things weren�t already complicated to him with his two friends� relationship.

As if that wasn�t enough Dumbledore could only think about what he had seen in Harry�s aura with divided feelings.

On one hand he was thrilled that the seal of the Avada Kedavra was breaking at last but the unfathomable changes that would happen after it finally broke would risk erecting more and more barriers between Harry and those he loved.

That was without bringing in the truth about Harry, the same truth he had asked for after his encounter with Voldemort in the entire debacle concerning the Philosopher�s Stone in first year.

The truth�

It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution.

How true, he thought. How very true.

"Things are never easy..." he muttered, looking at his companion who nodded, before returning to his work, an eagle-feather quill in his hand, the scratching noise mingling with the sound of the fire and Fawkes� soft tunes.

---------------------------------------

"You�re what?" Ron Weasley exclaimed just as Harry finished speaking.

Harry winced, his eyes darting around to see if someone had noticed Ron�s outburst.

Thankfully, for once in the entire year no one paid attention to the younger male Weasley, as everybody was still discussing the final exams that had come to an end but a couple of days ago. Soon the grades would be announced and the anxiety that was the natural aftermath to such a brutal period of time was overshadowing everything else.

There were but two people not really bothered about the OWLs in the whole Hogwarts fifth year - Hermione Granger and Harry Potter.

Hermione�s lack of worry about the results was due, in all simplicity, to the knowledge that she had aced her tests.

She had gone through the hellish week of examinations with ease and had worked well under the strain, feeling in her element, sure of her answers, of her movements as she used her wand to cast spells, charms and hexes. The only thing that was left to know was if she would pulverize the previous record of the most number of OWLs that Lily Evans and Tom Riddle had established years ago.

For Harry it was quite different.

Anything he did was overshadowed by the knowledge that Voldemort wanted his head on a pike and would not rest until he had managed that. The Boy Who Lived had been a thorn in the Dark Lord�s side for far too long and needed to be removed as painfully as possible.

Harry knew it as well as he knew how to fly on a broom. He could even say that few knew Voldemort better than he did, and it would not be a lie, for the scar that resided on his forehead was a daily reminder of the link that united them.

In such a situation, the terror of any typical student was but a minor detail in the tapestry of Harry�s life. He had no parents to make proud with his marks. Sirius, the only one who was most likely to serve in that aspect was of the same point of view, survival putting to shame the importance the OWLs had in his mind.

The anxiety that reigned over the whole student body didn�t touch him - couldn�t touch him.

How could it?

It was nothing compared to the feeling he had had when preparing to face Voldemort alone in first year, or knowing that he had almost no possibility of winning against the basilisk in his second year. What was a post exam period compared to the danger of facing a hundred Dementors ready to suck his soul out of his body? What was a grade worth when he had dueled against a reborn Voldemort, knowing that death was but a heartbeat away, that scant chance of survival already impossible for his fellow student?

No exams; OWLs or NEWTs, were significant enough to be worthy of his anxiety.

Ron and Hermione... well that was something else.

Right now Harry couldn�t figure out why Ron was reacting with such disbelief expressed in one sentence, in a single look of blazing... what? Anger? And, he could be wrong of course, but some measure of jealousy?

Good God, he hoped not!

But he knew Ron Weasley well enough to know that it had been there, even if it was only for a split second.

Hermione, who had been seated beside Ron, as it was expected, had missed the glimmer in Ron�s eyes when Harry had told them about how he would be spending his summer with Dumbledore instead of with the Dursleys and the offer from the old wizard to be his legal guardian until he was of age.

Still she felt the veiled anger that shook Ron and placing a hand upon his shoulder, spoke.

"Ron, what�s the matter? You should be happy that Harry is at least free of his relatives."

Ron�s hand rose to cover hers, turning and smiling, as he nodded.

"You�re right. Still, living with Dumbledore? That�s wicked, Harry!" Harry found himself returning Ron�s grin.

He nodded before biting into a piece of pumpkin pie. "I know... and to think that I could have ended up living with Malfoy."

Ron nodded back as he swallowed some of the juice in his goblet. "Horrible. Fudge wanting to put you under Lucius�s �care��I tell you that man is daft! He should be removed from his position - that�s for sure."

That elicited a sigh from the female part of the trio, along with an annoyed glare. "Honestly, don�t you two get bored of talking about that? As long as You-Know-Who doesn�t do anything, Fudge will not be removed. You two have been talking about that since the beginning of the year!"

That comment earned her a glare from Ron. "Come on, Hermione! How can you say that? That git almost gave Harry into You-Know-Who�s grasp! He�s a bloody menace!"

Harry swallowed nervously as soon as he saw the telltale signs of Hermione�s temper appearing.

"But it didn�t happen!" he blurted out, sighing inwardly as he saw the eyes of his two best friends returning to him, their shouting match forgotten.

For now.

Hastily, he elaborated, anxious to pull their attention to him and not the confrontation. "What I mean is, it�s kinda weird that Voldemort used a trick like that. He must have known that it wouldn�t work."

"I don�t know, Harry," said Hermione tentatively, her brown eyes showing she was deep in thought. "Maybe it wasn�t You-Know-Who who prepared that plan. It could have been Lucius Malfoy who tried it. After all, any Death Eater who gives you to the Dark Lord will gain his favor, right?"

Harry sighed, his mind wandering back to the times he had faced Voldemort, searching for any information that could help. He turned up nothing that could help.

Looking back at his best friends, he spoke, his voice low so as to not draw the attention of the other Gryffindors. "It may be that. Some of what you say... is true. But I don�t think so. In the third task he wanted to be the one to make me suffer. He forbade Malfoy, Nott and the others from doing anything until things went crazy."

"Went crazy?" snorted Ron as he attacked another pie at hand. "The whole night was straight from Trelawney�s mind, I tell you. I don�t know, Harry, but from what Dad, Bill and Charlie say, You-Know-Who is more subtle than that. At least when he wants to be. All this stuff with Malfoy sounds too blunt to be from someone as cunning as he is. It�s as you said, it was too bloody obvious that it wouldn�t work."

Harry nodded, what Ron said made sense... another thing that had changed in his friend.

The summer after the tragic events of fourth year had agreed with Ron. He had had a massive growth spurt - no doubt from eating so much. He was paradoxically still thin despite the huge quantities of food he devoured and the exercise he did while at the Burrow had helped to tone up his growing muscles.

Days working in the garden of the Weasley�s home at Ottery Saint Catchpole, de-gnoming the lawn and with more than his fair share of Quidditch matches between the Weasley boys (not forgetting Ginny) gathered at the Burrow and the numerous acquaintances who came to visit had had a good effect on the lanky youth.

The tanned complexion he had gained working under the sun, the golden freckles and the flame red hair had turned his fair share of heads of the female part of the Hogwarts students.

But it wasn�t only his body and voice that had changed in the summer and the rest of the year at Hogwarts. There was a sense of maturity that hadn�t been there before, that actually made him look more adult... when his fiery temper didn�t get the better out of him. When that happened (generally during shouting matches with Hermione) any illusion of maturity was shattered.

Apart from his entrance into the Gryffindor Quidditch team as the keeper, his later appointment as the co-captain along with Alicia Spinnet had helped to erase most of his insecurities.

Ron excelled in tactics, without a doubt a skill developed through countless hours of Wizard�s Chess (and the muggle variety. Once Ron confessed to Harry his preference for it, something related to the tact and lack of shouting from his pieces). That analytical skill, when used on the strategies of the Quidditch team granted the team an almost endless string of victories, to the great joy of Professor McGonagall and displeasure of Professor Snape.

Another thing that had helped in Ron�s growth was the fact that, to the surprise of everyone, he had been named the other Gryffindor prefect.

No one could really explain the reasons behind that decision as McGonagall remained liplocked. Most had expected Harry to be the one named, but McGonagall maintained her policy of silence on the matter. On the other hand, Harry was relieved that he had not been chosen. If that made Ron happier (and Harry knew that it did) then all the better... There were less possible sources of jealousy for Ron.

Still with changes and all, it was the same Ron, the same boy who looked with disgust at his homework, cursed Professor Snape each time they had double potions with the Slytherins, idolized the Chudley Cannons with a passion and loathed the name of Draco Malfoy.

Looking at his other best friend, Harry sighed, not without a dose of envy.

Hermione too had changed, and also it was all for the better.

As she had not been allowed to go to Bulgaria to visit Viktor Krum in the summer after their fourth year, to compensate for it, her parents had taken her for a tour of the Mediterranean parts of Europe; Spain, Italy, Greece and Turkey before moving on to France and Germany.

The trip had turned her skin a rich golden from long hours of sunbathing on the beaches of those countries. Healthy food, healthy exercise and hours under the sun had helped with the maturing of her body. Each day Hermione became more like the woman she would be in time, surprising more than one with her physical changes.

And him?

Harry had to resist the urge to sigh again as there had been no change in his body since fourth year.

No growth, no increased height, no change in his already broken voice. It was as though his body was in stasis - fourteen forever. He remained skinny, bony, endowed with only a slight bit of muscle that hid a considerable strength borne out of his own Quidditch training.

Compared to his friends, he was like a child trapped between blossoming teenagers and that was another source for joking and taunting, mainly from Draco Malfoy (and his brainless goons, Crabbe and Goyle) who having also begun his first stages of puberty towered above him, looking smug with all his pureblooded "I�m-the-best-and-the-rest-of-the-world-is-crap" attitude.

Harry wouldn�t have minded those changes in his two friends if not for a single crucial detail.

Somewhere between the end of his fourth year and the beginning of the fifth Ron and Hermione had become an item. When the news had reached him, in one of those rare letters that got to him during that dreadful summer when he had had to pull himself together, his mind had been numb for a couple of hours, his body working in automation to a point that even the Dursleys - who usually ignored him - noticed it.

In those endless summer days, after he had learned about it, Harry had often wondered if there would be some change in the relationship between the three of them with this new development.

A part of him told him that it wouldn�t be that way, that he should be happy that his best friends had finally overcome their differences and had begun something that should make him happy by being their friend and sharing their joy...

But as Harry soon discovered, once he had returned to the familiar Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters, things didn�t turn out as he had expected them to.

He had moved to the platform, passing through the barrier in the brick wall. He had started moving through the crowd, not finding his friends even after searching for a good quarter of an hour. It was when desperation was starting to settle in, when he had started thinking that something must have happened to them which had made them late that he had found them.

Found them making out carelessly, not caring about anything and anyone else... him for example.

Their greetings had been forced, their minds clearly somewhere else, almost as if he had been a stranger.

Suddenly Harry felt more alone and colder than when he had faced Voldemort in the duel, surrounded by a good dozen of Death Eaters - when all hope had been lost.

And just as suddenly as that impression had come to his mind, it was gone and the trio reunited even if his lack of physical growth had made Harry the butt of many harmless jokes, particularly from Ron and Ginny, who, too, was taller than he was.

Still even through the laughter and hugs a small part of Harry kept thinking about what had happened and prayed that it would not happen again.

His prayers weren�t answered.

All throughout the year the situation that had taken place in the platform repeated itself, Hermione forsaking him time after time in favor of Ron and vice versa. Harry was left more than once speechless, in doubt about what to say or do, beyond offering his understanding as it was expected of him for being their friend, sorry looks coming from his Gryffindor fellow students.

One day after detention with Filch for something or another Harry�s sadness shifted to anger.

It was well past midterm when it happened.

They had agreed to meet after Harry was done with his detention to study for a test on Potions courtesy of Snape, who had demonstrated sadism to the point of being a form of art that year. Harry had come to the library, bone-weary but ready to give his all because of Hermione�s nagging the previous night about how important the test was... only to find it empty, with no sign of his best friends anywhere.

Slightly concerned, Harry started to search the huge Hogwarts library, before Madam Prince asked him to leave.

On a whim Harry asked her if she had seen Hermione. Not surprisingly, the head librarian told him that indeed she had seen her, only to ask her to get out of the library because she was disturbing the other students with Ron and her kissing away.

"Quite steamy, it was," were her shocking words.

Harry had just stood there, not really knowing what to feel or to think. Instincts screaming at him, he blasted his way towards the Gryffindor common room, not even pausing to give the password to the Fat Lady who nevertheless opened the door to let him in, her shocked expression barely registered by his senses as he entered the tower.

And once he was in, his worst suspicions were proven true.

Because there, kissing as though there was no tomorrow were Ron and Hermione. She was sitting in his lap, arms around his neck while his were around her waist, occupying one of the comfortable love seats in the common room.

Looking at them, knowing that they had forgotten him without second consideration made the blood in his veins freeze over, before turning into molten metal, his anger igniting like raging hellfire.

All attention was on him. Fred, George, Ginny, Neville, Lavender... from the seventh years to the newly arrived first years - they were all focused on him, faces pale, the fear thick in the room, almost as tangible as the heat from the hearth�s fire.

A fear that only increased when a palpable sheen of power surrounded Harry. The fear nearly turned to panic when the walls started to shake and all the crystal in the tower (and, as it was discovered later in most of Hogwarts) exploded violently.

That was enough to pull Ron and Hermione out of their little world as they quickly untangled themselves to find everyone in the room looking at Harry whose eyes shone like stars. It wasn�t hard to realize that Harry was seriously pissed off, any consideration about his size forgotten when the very air seemed to crackle with power, nor when he moved towards his room, black robes billowing with an unseen wind, leaving a quarter of the Hogwarts population stunned and maybe for the first time realizing just why Voldemort feared Harry.

Once Harry was out of the room and everything seemed to have returned to normality (despite a strong scent of ozone emanating from where Harry had been standing) the whole group turned towards the blushing couple, eyes accusing them.

It was soon discovered that Harry wasn�t in any part of the Gryffindor tower and after a short search by those courageous enough (a rather limited group) proved impossible to be found.

The only thing that they were sure of was that Harry didn�t sleep in the boy�s dormitories that night.

By the next morning all the witnesses to the little exchange expected the trio�s friendship to be over and broken beyond repair by the actions of both Ron and Hermione.

Surprisingly enough, the next morning Harry was back to his usual self, as if nothing had happened, forcing the other two parts of the trio to behave as if nothing was wrong even if it was clear that the couple was walking on eggshells around Harry, looking for the right occasion to excuse themselves.

The occasion never presented itself.

To Harry that pseudo-fight was a turning point with things returning to normality even if Ron and Hermione still acted like a couple.

Most of the time.

When they weren�t fighting, that was.

That was something that Harry honestly couldn�t understand, no matter how hard he thought about it.

Ron and Hermione, despite the show of affection that was thought proper of a couple kept shouting at each other more often than not, disagreeing on most topics and from time to time being really nasty and mean towards each other.

Sans the time Harry had lost his temper, he had been clearly trying to support his friends in this, (which explained why the whole of Gryffindor had taken his side in the midterm accident) playing the role of peacemaker even when anyone else would have snapped under the pressure of an almost constant act of balancing words with emotions, all the while trying to sound impartial, not really favoring one or the other.

Not that he was particularly successful when he did put himself between the verbal crossfire.

Still, his duty as their friend compelled him to try his best. Harry had to try to reconcile them, if not to prevent himself from being used as a shouting board after the actual fight was over and done with...Somehow, the situation always repeated itself.

And yet, once he was done comforting Hermione or calming down Ron�s temper, a single question came to his mind, time and time again

Why are they doing this?

It was as though they were the only ones who didn�t realize that it was a relationship doomed from the first fight. Harry hoped, both for their sanity and his own, that they realized it before any real damage was done.

Now the year was coming to an end and so far things remained as they had been the entire year, as if his two best friends were trapped within a rut of imagined love and bickering, with some peaceful moments in between.

Blinking, now back to the present, Harry looked at Ron. He had asked something that he had missed in his daze.

"What?" he asked back, blushing slightly from his embarrassment.

Ron sighed. "You�ve been out of it for the last five minutes, mate. Where are you going to spend your vacations? Mom wanted you to come to the Burrow with us but with Dumbledore adopting you..."

Harry blinked. "Now that you mention it, Dumbledore didn�t say much about that. Something about the tropics, I think. Knowing him, it could be anywhere."

Hermione smiled. "Taking in account that you have never been out of Britain I�m sure that Dumbledore has something special planned."

Harry nodded, still doubtful. "Probably." He paused before giving his two friends an impish smile. "Once I tried imagining how Dumbledore spent his summers from Hogwarts�Probably sitting on a beach somewhere rubbing oil onto his crooked nose�"

Ron and Hermione laughed, Harry joining them quickly. When she stopped laughing, Hermione looked at Harry warmly. "It�s quite ironic, isn�t it? I wonder what the Dursleys thought would happen to you when they disowned you. Nothing like this, I�m sure."

Ron laughed again. "Yeah, that�s right! I�m sure they�ll be disappointed to know that they�ve done you a favor."

Harry smiled. He was about to answer Ron when a familiar sound drew his attention and that of all those present in the Great Hall.

Owl post had arrived, birds flying everywhere, parcels and letters landing here and there, for example, Hermione�s copy of the Daily Prophet which she snatched quickly from the air before it fell into her milk.

"You should think about being a seeker, Hermione," teased Harry after he had checked the crowd of birds for any moving white dot and found none.

"Hush!" she said as she unfolded the parchment and quickly skimmed the headlines.

Suddenly her eyes widened. "Holy crickets!" she gasped before literally devouring the text she was reading. You could tell that by the speed her eyes moved across the paper.

Exchanging a curious glance, Ron and Harry leaned towards her. "What?"

"Look at this!" and with those words she shoved the newspaper to Ron who glanced at it for a moment before snorting and handing it to Harry. He took it and, after smoothing it over, started reading.

The New Gringotts Tower:

A Reality, or a Dream?

By Otto Fireplump

Daily Prophet Special Courier

The wizarding community of the city of London is awed by the new project of the magi-architects hired by the goblin-operated bank of Gringotts - to design and direct the expansion of the Diagon Alley branch of the magical world�s oldest financial institution.

The project, already accepted by the ruling council of goblins of said millennia-old organization, will be the greatest change in the design of Diagon Alley since the times of the actual building of the bank. Such change will, without a doubt, change the way wizards and witches perceive our famous alley where Britain�s oldest and most-visited stores such as O

3. Summer of Discoveries (Part 1.2.)

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 ^_^)

---------------------------------------

Chapter two: Summer of discoveries

Part 1.2.

---------------------------------------

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.

---------------------------------------

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."

---------------------------------------

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.

---------------------------------------

"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.

---------------------------------------

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.

---------------------------------------

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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4. Summer of Discoveries (Part 1.3)

Last Son Of Krypton

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

By Dragonlord

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.

Still if you want to contact me, my e-mail for my time in France is

askani_2003@yahoo.fr

Author's notes:

First I want to apologize for the time it took me to post this, quite simply I don't have much free time here in Paris and the time in which I can work with a computer is quite rare. This, coupled with one of the worst heat wave in years to cross Europe, didn't make things more easy…

Anyway, this goes ( once again, I know) to the people at the Portkey Chat, meaning 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.

And of course special thanks for Nappa and Dauphin.

Dauphin, because I know that she's a very busy girl and I keep pestering her about the beta. By this time ythis is as much her story as it is mine so, once again thank you very much!!

And Nappa, what can I say? Mate, I promise I will send you what I owe you, maybe sooner than what you can think. Till then enjoy this as I know you will ^_^

To you two, there aren't any words that can convey what I fell about you both. Thanks for all the support you have given me since the beginning, they have keepen me going on.

Yet, before going on with the show, the reviews of all those valliant enough to read my story!

Chapter 1

E.C.R. Potter: I think I answered your review with an e-mail… but I want to thank you once again for your review, one of the first to be posted.

Msscribe: coming from you that means a lot… I'm ready to die an happy man… sigh.

Alex: I don't understand you.

Sky is Blue: I'm going red… please don't continue or I will start to look like a tomato!

Ranma: using the words of Mr Robert Jordan, I'll stop writing the day they nail my coffin shut.

Of course thanks to Jeremiah, Nikki Cameron, Lordanhur, Chang, Julian Smith, fopalup, Serendipity and Clair…

Reviews for Chapter 2

XxKkAnGxX: this is also freaken long (lol) but I'm sure you will read it as fast as ever, if you enjoy it as much as the previous part… which I hope you do.

Silverleaf: my oh my, you sure are a cleaver girl! Some of what you said is true and indeed it will happen but Harry will not be disguising himself as you think… one thing I can say is that his glases are to stay.

As for Ron, well after the events of the OotP everything is possible even him fulfilling his erised dream… ugh (!!)

CryHope: lol One of my beliefs is that fanfiction should be recognized as a valid form of writing, even if I don't feel that mine is of such level. Anyway I'm happy that you like so much my little tale. I hope this update pleases you as well.

Thelvyn: I'm glad that you liked the way I portrayed Albus' family. Be ready to see them later in future chapters. And see you at the chat one of these days.

Ryoko Blue: even if the review was short I loved it. I think it's due to the admiration I have for you and your work, that goes beyond words. I hope you enjoy this part as much as the previous.

Liedral: now, that's a secret! I will only tell you that there are six other like the one Voldemort took from Assim. Notice that he was the one to do the dirty work, not one of his lackeys, so think about that.

Dark Golo: glad that I keep pleasing you with my work. As for Harry being told the truth about Albus' past too soon you have to think that for the members of Dumbledore's family Harry is not a stranger. Albus is rarely at the manor and if he is there and talks all the time about Harry it's bound to be taken in count by those that know him, don't you think?

Peter: thanks for your more than flattering review, I simply try to do the best I can with a not so little help from my beta Dauphin. I'm happy to know that this story didn't disappoint you. Enjoy this please.

Clair: yes this is a H/Hr (as if it could be anything else at Portkey) but it will take some time to come to that, without forgetting a romance triangle in the way (and no, I'm not talking of the R/H/Hr thing). As for Harry's new family sorry that you have lost yourself… you better check it again as they will have a role in the future quite important.

Lilytiger20: thanks for your kind words. As for me being original I bet you could be too. You only need an idea, some time and a bunch of questions that you think you can answer… after all I'm like you a fan, nothing more to it.

Monday Morning: it seems there are many fans of the man of steel around here and so far it seems that they all like my way of blending the worlds of HP and Superman. Of course, I'm pleased to met you Amanda and I know I would like to be a friend of yours, that's clear enough, but till now I haven't have the pleasure of knowing the states. One day, who knows?

Still, and being honest, I'm surprised by what you're telling me. The ideas for Dumbledore family, I mean concerning most of the characters that you find in it (like Amanda), are taken from series like Highlander, Sliders, BTVS and Angel coupled by high doses of my own crazy imagination, so I'm surprised and quite pleased to know that I can describe so well a piece of the “real” world unknown to me.

Bloodlust Vampire: I'm glad that you liked my story so much and that you find some source of entertainment in it while at the army ( did I understood it right?). Sorry for your bad day, even if I'm more than late to tell that… But, hell, that's the sort of stuff we laugh about, months and years later when we look back in time. I hope this piece of chapter two pleases you as much as the others, thank you for your kind words and more than encouraging review.

Tristan: As I think I said somewhere I try to be original, something quite rare in the HP fanon I think, even if there are brilliant stories that use known (and more than too used) ideas.

RedPhoenix: I'm happy that you think so, but much of that is due to my beta, Dauphin that smooths things enough to allow you all to read the story. I don't know how I would do it without her… As for your suspitions you will have to tell me as this time what you see is what is, no double intention from the old man… but that can and will change in the future.

TimGold: I'm unable to do short things, anyone that knows my stories is aware of that. Anyway I'm preparing another story in which I'm making efforts to do short chapters, look forward to Tainted Souls, you may even like it.

As for the Hr/R I see it as a needed evil, and believe me I'm the first to dislike having to make them a couple… writing those parts nearly made me feel sick. Anyway that time is now gone… well more or less.

Clasic Cowboy: He's not yet the man of steel but he will get there. As for the reaction from Ron and Hermione, not to forget the rest of Hogwarts… well I'm not telling but I'm sure it will be fun.

And let's not forget Lordanhur, Soulshine, Franco, Joe, Megan, NymphGirl, Sandra, levaithan, Jedi Mage, Rhiannon_woods, J.T.J., Scott… thanks guys!

Reviews for Chapter 3

Kelly: I am of those that think that some R/Hr is needed if only to show how wrong that ship is. As for the presence of that ship in the OotP I found it pretty non-existent (he he he)

Fusion Blaster: wouldn't it be cool if we could introduce music in our fics?

Tristan: the link is not broken, it's still there to both Harry and Tom's displeasure… what is gone is the influence of the Avada Kedavra.

E.C.R Potter: your words sound like fine music to my ears. As for going “Smallville”… yes and no as you will soon discover reading this chapter. I tell you this much, he will be using the “Clark Kent” disguise. I'm trying to introduce more concepts from the comics and everything Superman related, namely a known amazon princess, red and green pieces of Kal-El's birthplanet and much, much more.

As for the Hogwarts gang Harry will not be the only one to pass by changes, some other students will too.

Will: expect some humor now and then.

Dark Golo: I'm glad that you liked the chapter so much. I only hope this one keeps pleasing you as much as the previous ones. As for the speed in posting it depends greatly on my free time and the one of my beta and sometimes it takes too much time for my and anyone else liking. Sorry.

Nathan: you will have to wait a little before that happens, sorry.

Liedral: yeah I know, this part for example is more or less 35odd pages long and some 17000 words long. Quite a bit I think.

Rhiannon_woods: I'm glad that I was up to your expectations. I hope this chapter too keeps up with them but please, please don't die on me.

Cry Hope: thank you for your well wishes, it sure is an experience to be fifteen months far from home and my computer. Makes things interesting.

Miles militis ab perditio: this chapers as you will see will answer many of your questions, none of Harry's abilities have changed. What happened was that the contamination due to the killing curse was vanished by Harry's Kryptonian physilogy. If you like, think of it as a oil upon water, tainting it and currupting it or as a variant of kryptonite keeping Harry weak and unable to reach his full potential.

Michelline: I have come to the conclution that it's impossible for me to write short chapters. In fact I wrote summer of discoveries in one go, not planing to divide it in parts but it was getting too big. I hope you like this parts as much as the others.

Cole: thank you for your praises. Knowing the level of the works here at Portkey, that's saying something.

Nick: well, I hope you find this as interesting as what is already posted.

Leothelion: I aim to be original. Still this only started with the crazy idea that Tom Welling could be a very great older Harry, and from there to this.

Calestina: a greek god? Lol, yeah you could say that, his change will lead to some interesting reactions that's for sure. It will be fun.

Xavien: you can say that, you only have to wait and see. By the way, the background is about to get a little more complicated.

Kaiser Dragon: well I'm not planing in stopping it, quite the contrary. I may even do an alternate version for snogwarts once its online so keep looking out for this story. Oh and yeah we will reach the reasons for the R rating, just be patient.

Aztec: there you have it, sorry for the waiting. I hope you continue to enjoy the story.

Fopalup: I hope this chapter and those following keep up with your expectations, and yeah now things are going to be fun… sadly Harry may not think so!

Jezebel: I try to not make those parts that long, but I'm a lost case, I'm damned to write long pieces.

And also thanks to Levaithan, Tim Gold, Afiz, Franco, mina, Bloodlust, Badxander, Flaming Aussie, Clair, Satoshi, Morto, Merlin and MrKlortho for their kind reviews, be sure that they are apreciated, and a lot.

This done on with the story!

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Chapter two: Summer of discoveries

Part 1.3.

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When Dumbledore reached the suite he shared with his adopted grandson the first thing he saw was the door, broken by what he could judge was nothing more than physical force.

That was enough to make him pause.

The hotel may have been Muggle but he had been sure of its security, on both Muggle and magical sides before departing towards it. Nothing was left to hazard in this. He even went to lengths to choose a second secret keeper to keep his own location hidden and steer away Voldemort and his forces.

His senses told him nothing of danger and that relaxed him somehow. Anyway he wouldn't be able to move the door because whoever had broken it had, after blowing up the door, slammed it back with equal strength.

With physical means he would gain nothing.

Looking around and assuring himself that no one would see him he summoned his wand, whipping it with an expert flick of his wrist before muttering the reparo charm. Soft white light surrounded the door and repaired the damage caused.

Then with another burst of magic the door opened to reveal darkness, a darkness cut by the lights coming from the windows of the room from where the nightly ilumination of Rio could be seen, thousands of stars shimmering in the night.

Still there was someone here and it could be only one person...

“Harry?”

The old wizard knew that Harry was within the dark room but the sounds coming from the

streets and beaches nearby drowned almost all sounds, forcing Albus to strain his hearing.

His efforts were reward by the sound of a slight breathing accompanied by a soft purring that Albus recognized immediately. By that point his eyes had already started to get used to the lack of a major

source of light, but still he moved towards the light's switch and with a gesture turned it on, chasing the darkness away and allowing him to see his young friend.

Immediately Albus was able to see what was wrong and it was, well surprising.

“Harry, please look at me.” He said gently as he neared the young man who was sitting with his back turned towards him… his wider, muscular back. Under his sight muscles tensed and relaxed - an answer to some unknown struggle.

Finally Harry rose from his sitting position and turned to face the headmaster.

The thing that drew his attention first was the fact that Fawkes was asleep between Harry's arms, the phoenix purring contently as it slept, its crimson and gold body lined by a soft glow.

His attention, however, immediately turned to Harry.

The teenager having turned to face him, it allowed the old wizard to see the boy's features for the first time and he had to contain a startled gasp as he fully took in the changes in his young charge.

The green eyes were still there, maybe even more luminous but his face had changed, matured to his proper age and maybe even more.

Yet Harry, who had always been compared to a younger James, looked little like before, a face of his own that due to the new cast had turned from pleasant to downright good-looking. His scar was still there, unchanged even if it seemed to glow slightly within its depths. His hair was still a shiny silky black but looked less wild, more tamed and stylish.

His attention returned to the boy's eyes, those wonderful pools of emerald.

As amazing as they always were, there was such doubt, fear and suffering in them that it literally took his breath away. It was clear that this change was affecting Harry deeply and he would be damned if he did not do something to lighten this new burden.

Dumbledore, tenderly reached to Harry and, with uncanny gentleness, put a hand upon his shoulder.

Harry trembled slightly at the contact and Dumbledore could feel the muscles shift under the tanned skin.

They had the feel of steel.

“Harry, tell me what happened. You don't have to do this alone.” He said, his voice gentle but coaxing. Slowly Harry nodded. Gesturing for Dumbledore to move aside, Harry moved to the balcony still holding Fawkes in his arms. Once he was outside, he remained unmoving, like a statue of human

perfection.

Dumbledore looked at Harry's body, his eyes moving upon the newly developed muscle groups that from time to time tensed and relaxed. Harry's musculature wasn't bulging, unlike Muggle weight lifters but it was still impressive - lean and perfectly marked.

Comparing that to his body from some hours before it was easy to understand how Harry could have freaked out, no matter what phenomenal self control the teenager had, so radical had the change was.

Acting on a hunch Dumbledore shifted his vision to his magical one, the one that allowed him to see the aura of magic spells and the very auras of all living things. What Dumbledore saw nearly left him blind and even then he had to resist the urge to gape because of the meaning of his vision.

Until then if one looked at Harry's aura he would see it shrouded in green light. Ever since the first time Dumbledore saw him after the death of James and Lily, Harry had a coating of green light upon every inch of his body. But through the years Albus had seen it pale, weakening to the point that one could almost see it flickering but still hiding Harry's true aura.

Albus had dubbed it the Kedavra Seal.

It was gone and now Harry pulsated, sending waves of dim golden light and, even if the aura seemed almost drained, the lines in Harry's body seemed to be made of light.

What he had been expecting for nearly seventeen years had finally happened.

And he knew what was tormenting Harry and that the moment to tell him the truth about his origins, about himself had come at last.

Truth was a beautiful yet terrible thing, indeed. He had said that once, a long time ago and how he loathed to be so right about this.

Using his wand Dumbledore made some clothes appear upon Harry, sweat pants with sandals and a sleeveless T-shirt that fit perfectly on Harry's new frame. All his clothes were black but enchanted to keep up with the ambient temperature.

“Thanks,” said Harry quietly and even his voice had suffered alterations as Dumbledore could notice. It was low and sensual in its modulation… quite pleasant, almost captivating in its intonation. With a slight smile in his lips Albus pointed to two chairs and moved towards them.

Gesturing for Harry to sit, Albus did likewise, noticing how Harry seemed to be treating everything as if it was made of crystal, coupled with a sense of unfamiliarity with his bigger body, which clashed with the usual actions of the well-coordinated Gryffindor.

Harry sat and lightly tapping Fawkes' body woke the sleeping phoenix. It looked at Harry, then at the headmaster and moved onto the table, taking a spot between the teenager and the ancient man. Fawkes remained silent, looking one moment at his former companion and then to his new one.

His hands free, Harry simply put them in his lap, gazing at them for a moment before looking back at Dumbledore, holding those eyes with a look of his own.

“Harry, I don't presume to understand how you must feel right now, but I assure you that you may relax. This is, if I'm right, natural for you. There is nothing to worry about.”

Harry snorted, a very un-Harry Potter sound, taking in consideration the anger one could feel in such derisory sound, all of it directed to Albus' little speech.

“Natural? With all due respect, sir, how can this be natural?” he gestured to his body, his voice thick with sarcasm, barely hiding his nervousness.

Dumbledore sighed. “To answer that, Harry, I will have to give you the answer to a question you asked me a long time ago. Back then I knew that you were not ready for the weight that will come with the answer, and even now I'm wondering if you are ready.”

He paused even as Harry's eyes widened. It was clear that he had realized which question Albus was speaking of.

“S-sir?”

“Still this is but idle thinking. What happened has changed everything and now, ready or not, I must give you the answer you so desired. But before I do, I must ask you if you really want to know the truth. Think about it, Harry - this truth will change everything in your life, maybe forever.”

Harry thought. Here was Dumbledore, offering him the key to the reason why his life was as it was, the reason for so many things that made no sense, or at one time had caused him no end of trouble and turmoil.

Still Harry knew he had better to think about it. Dumbledore's words, softly said, held a sense of warning. As though that secret was so huge that it would shake the pillars of his world... but then that was something he was used to.

For a moment he debated whether to ask or not but in the end there was but one possible outcome.

He opened his mouth and two words came out, simple words which held a world of meanings.

“Tell me.”

Dumbledore sighed.

“Very well. But I only ask you to think about what I am to say carefully, without letting your emotions cloud your mind.” Harry nodded, bracing himself for the truth. “Let's start from what I know and the reason why you... changed.”

Harry nodded, butterflies dancing in his stomach. He could feel his pulse race.

“The reason stems from the Killing Curse that Voldemort cast on you. And from surviving it.”

“Uh? What do you mean? Wasn't it the love of my mother that protected me?”

Dumbledore shook his head. “That protection sent back the curse, but only because you couldn't be affected by it, regardless of the protection left by your mother's sacrifice.”

“And why that? Why is this - ” he gestured to his body, “…change related to it?”

Dumbledore's blue eyes locked softly with Harry's green eyes. “The curse couldn't kill you and that is a fact. It cannot, still. But the moment the curse touched you it tried to fulfill its purpose - killing you. Unable to do so, it wrecked your body in ways that I still cannot understand. The effects of that contact have lingered on your body until today, I think.”

“Even having survived it, you had the mark of the Killing Curse upon your body. However, your body fought its effects. For the last fourteen years it has tried to purge itself of the remaining energies of the Avadra Kedavra. It makes sense to believe that your body has finally defeated it and cleansed you of the remainings of the Killing Curse. Once that was done, your body sought to reach its proper state, the state you would have been in if you had grown without exposure to Voldemort's dark magic.”

Harry opened his mouth but closed it quickly before his look shifted to the ground or to his hands that were clenching and unclenching slowly.

Dumbledore smiled gently. “Yes, Harry? Please speak freely. I know the question you wanted to ask and I will answer it but I would prefer you to ask it.”

Harry looked at him a slight blush on his cheeks, barely noticeable under the tan.

“Am I that transparent?”

Dumbledore chuckled. “No, Harry, you are not. Most of the time I cannot guess what is going through your mind. But it is easy to know what question is burning on the tip of your tongue. So I ask you again to say it out loud.”

Harry remained silent for a moment before sighing.

“Why didn't the curse work on me?”

Dumbledore sighed and at last revealed the truth.

“Because the Killing Curse is designed to erradicate all the forms of life that walks upon this land, like humans for example but you, Harry, aren't human.”

Harry blanched, if that was possible considering his new tan, before shaking his head in negation.

“No. That…that can't be right. I'm human! I'm---” he closed his eyes before opening them again.

Harry remained silent for a while before speaking in a weak voice.

“If I'm not human, then what am I?” his hands moved to his hair, fingers digging in his scalp in an act of controlled desperation, enticing a sad sound from Fawkes, who shared Dumbledore's concern for his new companion.

Dumbledore gave him one of the gentlest looks he had ever seen. Not even Molly Weasley had ever looked at him in such a fashion, as if he was something so precious and loved.

“I believe that you are familiar with the idea of extraterrestrial life, Harry?”

Harry's jaw almost crashed against the floor and his eyes widened so much that they gave the impression of being about to pop out of his sockets.

Immediately Harry blinked and closed his mouth, swallowing soundly even though he felt as if the Sahara desert had been transported to his mouth, so dry it was.

What Dumbledore had said was too much for him. Harry could feel darkness creeping into his sight. Still he fought the urge to lose consciousness, blinking furiously.

“I... please, professor, please - tell me this is a joke, an error, anything else...”

Albus sighed actually feeling the distress that was emanating from Harry.

“I'm afraid that I cannot do that, Harry. It is not something easy to bear nor to accept but it is the truth. It is how things are.”

For a long time they said nothing. Even Fawkes remained silent - the only sound coming to them were of the waves crashing into the shore, drowning with their might the sobs that came from Harry.

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The sea crashed around and upon him, the waves splashing apart against the jagged rocks upon which he was standing. He had lost the notion of time, of how many hours he had been there - his senses overloaded by the powerful presence of the ocean.

He was soaked from head to toe, his hair dripping water upon his face, now free of glasses, even as the sun battered against him with equal fury.

And yet he remained there, feeling the force of the elements; respecting it even as he resisted it, feeling stronger each passing moment.

Dumbledore was right, he was forced to admit. The change was feeling more natural with each passing moment - as if this was how he should have been.

Again, if Dumbledore was right, then the sensation of strangeness and wrong that assaulted him from time to time during his fifth year had been from the rising struggle from his body to purge the dark magic that had weakened it.

Now that the seal was broken his body was catching up and the sensation of unease was fading fast, like snow melting under the sun.

Thinking back to the moment of his awakening Harry realized that his panic was due in great part to his shock due to the radical change to his body.

Once Albus had explained what was going on to him, that panic had lessened, eclipsed by the truth that Dumbledore had kept from him, revealed at last.

Still it was strange to feel his body changing. Awake now, he was aware of how he was strengthening, how his muscles were growing in size, power and definition by the moment. He even had the notion that if he looked at himself in a mirror he would see his body grow and strengthen.

But that was the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

He wasn't human.

That was enough to put everything aside, enough to make him ignore even the dark clouds that hung on the horizon - the dark war Voldemort was ready to unleash upon an unprepared wizarding world.

He wasn't human and that was enough to make him ask a thousand questions which were without answers.

Could he die? How long was his life span? Could he father children? Would his magic work? Could he return to Hogwarts? Where was he from? Did his parents, his true biological parents, love him, care about him? Were they still alive? If so, did they think about him? Where was his home? Why

did they send him away?

So many questions but so few answers.

So many questions that needed answers.

The sounds of steps from behind him reached his ears and Harry wondered how he could have done that. He only knew that the sound had come clearly to him, even with the sea roaring around him. He immediately knew who it was, as there was but one person who could come here.

He turned just as another big wave fell upon him, crashing against his bare back with enough strength to make any human fall against the sharp volcanic rocks upon where he was standing. But somehow he was able to withstand it. A magical shield deflected the water some three feet away from Dumbledore and yet it let the ambient moisture pass, producing a funny image - The long silvery beard of the Grand Mugwump was dripping wet, his clothes soaked.

“I knew you would be here, Harry...” Harry nodded in reply to Dumbledore's statement, brushing some wet hair away from his forehead as Dumbledore pursed his lips for a moment. “How are you feeling?”

Harry laughed bitterly.

“As if my whole life has been turned upside down. I don't know what to feel or think or even believe. It's as though everything has lost its meaning, as if I'm... lost and can't find my way home.”

Dumbledore nodded. “I understand.”

He paused as another wave crashed around them before speaking again

“But you see, Harry, whether you are human or not, your species does not define who you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“It is our actions that define our persons. Tom Riddle was as human as anyone, magic or not, but his acts and decisions have stripped him of any shred of humanity. He has become the monster we are fighting today. Look at Hagrid - a person who is loved and who has a heart bigger than his own body. But he is not fully human, Harry. You may be an alien but your actions have proved more than once that you are a magnificent human being.”

“Think about it, Harry. Thanks to you, Lily could know the joy of having a life growing within her, a life that for a while was part of her. Thanks to you, she and James had the chance of having a family, of having someone that they loved more than their lives. Thanks to you, to what you are, entire generations have known peace and possessed a chance for love and happiness.”

“Without your courage, your dedication to others or your love, the world would have been cast in shadows time and time again. Not being human cannot take away the love and affection Ron and Hermione have given to you, nor the love and admiration that Sirius, Remus, Minerva, Hagrid and even Snape have for you, which many others share, me amongst them.”

It was as though someone had pulled the stone he was standing on from under him and he crashed upon his knees, the sheer emotion and truth in the old headmaster's words slamming into Harry like a speeding train. Those words brought thousands of images, emotions and sensations back to Harry's

mind, each validating the words that still hung in the air along with the sounds of the ocean.

“How could I have been that stupid?” he asked aloud, feeling suddenly ashamed.

Dumbledore gave him a warm smile as he put a wrinkled hand upon Harry's head and ruffled his damp hair before helping the younger man to his feet.

“You aren't stupid, Harry. The feelings and questions you have are quite understandable. In my opinion, you have done an admirable job of managing them so far. But still this means that we are going to have to cut our vacation short, at least for now.”

“What do you mean, professor?” he asked, straightening, ignoring the waves crashing upon his body.

“We have to return to Hogwarts. Even though you have started to accept the changes you are experimenting, there are many things that we must know and many more that we have to prepare for.”

Harry nodded. Dumbledore was right as he usually was.

They needed to be ready, to be prepared.

To Hogwarts then, he thought grimly.

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A few hours later both Dumbledore and Harry were walking towards Hogwarts, the old wizard easily keeping up with Harry's stride. Fawkes led the way a few meters in front of them.

Contrary to what Harry had assumed when Albus had told him that they were returning to Hogwarts, they hadn't cancelled the reservations they had at the hotel, valid for another two and a half months. Dumbledore had told the receptionist that they would return in less than 48 hours.

Harry hadn't the slightest idea how that could be possible but he trusted the old wizard enough to not ask any questions.

For now he was busied with keeping up with the accentuating changes to his body...

Despite the hot weather that had descended upon the United Kingdom, Dumbledore had insisted that he wear a thick cloak that would mask his identity even to the Hogwarts staff if they ever happened to meet them. What really bothered Harry was the fact that even with the thick cape and the sun warming it, he could feel no discomfort at all.

In fact ever since that fateful afternoon he had been able to feel the temperatures, hot and cold, but could feel no discomfort from them. It was as if his body and skin had been modulated to adapt to his surroundings or to suit his needs. He couldn't know for sure but that was as good a theory as any other.

Until they had time to do some tests, everything was possible and it wasn't doing any good to Harry's nerves.

Soon enough they reached the outer walls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but instead of using the main entrance as did all students coming for a year of learning and tutoring, Dumbledore led Harry far from it, walking along one of the imposing walls. After some minutes they reached a portion of the wall that looked like any other, but Albus smiled and drew his wand before touching the wall lightly.

Lines of light spread from the point where the wand had made contact with the stone, revealing an hidden door that opened to let the Headmaster enter.

Harry followed immediately and the walls closed just after he had entered.

Fawkes was by now riding on Harry's shoulder and seemed to be delighted to be back at the school, piping notes from time to time.

Harry found himself in a well-illuminated corridor that soon enough led to some stone stairs that brought them to a spacious round room. The room was illuminated by a dozen torches and on the walls Harry could see several doors, each presenting a shield upon which Harry could see some signs

of unknown origin. Dumbledore seemed to know them well, as he, without a doubt, redirected himself to one of the doors on his left.

Reaching it, the symbol gave off a soft red light before opening. Harry followed Dumbledore in and was surprised to find himself in the headmaster's office, the door hidden behind one of the bookshelves closing behind them once they had entered the room.

“Take a seat, Harry. And you can take off the cloak now.”

Harry did so, pausing for a moment to allow Fawkes to fly to his usual perch in the headmaster's office. Moving, he took a seat in front of the headmaster's desk, an action shared by Dumbledore who also sat down.

Then he looked at Harry intently for a while before speaking.

“First of all, Harry - I want you to understand that I'm as clueless as you are to your change and its properties, so we are making this trip unto the unknown together. This said, don't worry too much about that. These changes, as surprising as they are, are natural to you so one would expect that

you have the means to control them inside of you. All clear?”

Harry nodded, not feeling very confident. “Um, yeah. I think so.”

Albus smiled. “Good. From now on we are going to examine the limits of your body and if the lifting of the seal has produced some alterations in your magic. That is the part that I think will be more easy to identify than the other, as the most physical ones depends without a doubt on the maturity of your body.”

“To test that, we will move to one of the rooms that are connected to the doors you saw before. Each of them has been prepared to test you in some way. Before you ask, the quarters of the Order are located there as well but separated from the space we will be using. This is for several reasons but most of all you have to understand that your change must be kept secret, as is your origin. This means keeping it secret from everybody. This includes Miss Granger and Mister Weasley, as well as Sirius and Remus.”

“It will be difficult to do so once school starts again, professor. It's impossible to miss something like this.” Harry pointed, gesturing to his new body.

Dumbledore nodded. “I know Harry. But if we have one thing on our side, it is time.”

Then he rose form his chair and moved towards the bookshelf on one side of the round room. Pulling a worn book from the shelf, the wall behind moved, the shelf dividing into two and moving aside, allowing Dumbledore to enter a small abode that had been previously hidden.

There was a little shrine there and Dumbledore took a little black box from it. It was barely two feet in length. With one move of his hand, the walls and the shelf returned to their previous positions, nothing remaining to tell of the secret behind the books.

Albus moved back and sitting down again, presented the box to Harry.

“This is yours, Harry. Within, you will find some things that were found on your spaceship. I suppose your biological parents put them there.”

Swallowing, Harry took the box from Dumbledore's hands and opened it with infinite care.

Within it were only two things but Harry knew that they were unique to the world.

One was a long, thin shard of crystal that hummed softly, its color an emerald green with core of pale green-almost white-, remembering Harry of the movie Star Wars, in which its hero used a lightsaber of the same emerald color.

Holding it, Harry could feel it warming to his touch and its shine grew in strength until the whole room was bathed in green light, even affecting the flames in the fireplace of the room - the red flames that burned the whole year long now seemed made of emerald fire.

Gently Harry put the crystal aside, knowing without cognitive reason that it was not the time to use it. So after placing it back in the box he pulled out the other item.

It was a piece of cloth that was neatly folded and with the same care that he had handled the crystal with, he unfolded it.

When that was done, Harry realized that the piece of tissue was a shield in which a stylized “S” could be seen.

With some amusement, Harry realized that they were cast in Gryffindor's colors, the S and the outer lines of the shield in red while the rest were golden yellow. The fabric was soft and yet Harry could feel the strength of it, different from all tissues he had ever held or touched.

He wondered if his true mother had woven it, placing it with him when he was but a baby,

born and sent away from wherever he had come from.

Sadness crept within him as he realized that he had lost not only one set of parents, James and Lily but also his biological ones. However, differently from the case of James and Lily, no one was there to tell him anything about the ones who had given him life. No moving image, no declaration of

friendship from old friends...

Only these two things - a crystal and a shield. How readily would he have exchanged them for a memory of a caress, for the memory of a lullaby, for soft laughter as he was hugged, protected and loved.

A tear traveled from his eye and Harry let it fall. Folding the shield with the same care as before he closed the box. Looking up to meet the gleaming eyes of the headmaster Harry breathed deeply before speaking.

“When do we start?”

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Once again Harry found himself in the company of Dumbledore in one of the rooms the old wizard had mentioned before. This time they were alone as Fawkes had chosen to remain in the office, enjoying the warmth of the fire.

The room he was currently in was kind of strange to be a part of a place like Hogwarts as it looked as though it had been taken from a Muggle gym, as it was full of weights and other machines designed for the development of the body. Some of them were downright strange to Harry, who knew nearly

nothing about weightlifting, something that was almost as verbotten as magic at the Dursleys' house.

Harry turned his attention to Dumbledore, who was sitting on some nearby mats that were lying on the floor, no doubt placed there for any work that had to be done on the floor. Silently he sat in front of Dumbledore who was likewise sitting with his long legs crossed.

Deep blue eyes looked at him through half moon glasses, observing him intently before Dumbledore spoke.

“Now, Harry, I want you to tell me how you feel. How your body feels to you, and better yet if you can recall how you felt when you awoke.”

Harry scratched his chin thoughtfully.

“How I feel? Uh, well I.... Way more stronger, I think... yes, stronger is the word. Let's see... ah, light…as though I could start flying by myself. I think that my senses are better too. For one thing I don't need my glasses and my hearing seems sharper.”

Dumbledore stroked his beard as his thoughtful, gleaming eyes showed his mind racing through thoughts Harry knew nothing of.

“Stronger…umm... well, we can check that easily here.”

Producing his wand he pointed it at the rows of weights and with a flick summoned them, words of magic rolling off Dumbledore's tongue.

Twin weights landed in front of Harry, who took them under Albus' close look, lifting them up without a problem.

His muscles tensed and relaxed but Harry couldn't feel the weight of the metal. It was as though his body had no trouble lifting it. Puzzled, Harry used some strength and lifted the weights once again.

WHOOOSH!

BOOOM!

Harry recoiled as the weights were sent flying upwards, the impulse freeing it from Harry's hand before crashing on the ceiling and disappearing into the sturdy stone, some pieces of it falling down.

Harry swallowed hard, his sight fixated on the damaged roof before slowly looking back at Dumbledore who was staring at him with blinking eyes, not unlike a owl.

“Ah, that was, um, interesting, Harry.”

Said boy could only nod dumbly before asking about something that had come to his mind immediately, as soon as it had overcome the shock.

“What was the weight?”

Dumbledore blinked again. “The weight? I believe that it was around a hundred and fifty pounds.”

“A hundred and fifty? But...”

“But why did I start with such a weight? Without you knowing of it? I did that simply to see how you reacted to it without your mind interfering.”

“What do you mean?”

“It is quite simple, Harry. Our minds focus our reality and state our limitations. If you had told yourself that you could not do it, then you would have unconsciously prevented yourself from doing it. But if I had remained silent... Never doubt the powers of the mind. In your case this could

be more important than what we think.”

He paused, brushing off the dust that had fallen upon his blue robes before rising.

“I believe that another approach to this is needed, Harry. Please follow me.”

Harry sighed but after a last look at the damage that he had done (that was already being repaired by magic) followed the older wizard. Harry found himself following Dumbledore through so many corridors that soon he lost whatever sense of orientation he had.

After some time they reached another door that led to a huge circular room, easily rivaling a Quidditch pitch in its size.

The ground was painted with red lines interconnecting with each other within a circle covered by signs of magical origin. There was light in there but no source for it, only a dim light that looked like the light given off by fire. Yet the only thing Harry knew for sure was that they were quite deep under Hogwarts - far away from any source of luminosity.

Dumbledore gestured for Harry to move and enter the circle. Harry took his place obediently within the circle before looking at the old wizard expectantly.

“Only I and some selected witches and wizards know what I am about to tell you, Harry, so keep this to yourself. The truth is that long before Hogwarts was a school, it was a training facility that came to be led by those who we now know as the Four Founders. Here, and since at least three thousand years, wizards and other creatures were trained in the art of war. I will spare you the history of how Hogwarts became a school but I will tell you that in the end, with the coming of peace, Hogwarts became the pleace you are familiar with. Before that time this was a place where all knowledge was turned into a weapon and a mean of destruction, as it was the way of things, even in the times of mighty Atlantis and long lost Avalon, times maybe more civilizared than those we are living now.”

“Back in those times of war this room was designed for those magical beings, like giants and dragons with strength greater than those of normal humans. In this room their might and power were tested, challenged. Of course a thousand years ago dragonkin and giantfolk were different from how we know them now, so the use of this room was soon a secret only known by the headmaster and those he decided to trust.”

“Ever since the days of the Founders, this chamber and others, designed for more war-like purposes, have been closed and sealed. Now with the rise of Voldemort and the possibility of many dark creatures falling under his control, I have considered the need of restoring them to their true

nature. Long have I pondered if it was wise to do so, but I fear that now, if the Order is not able to stall the advance of the dark, I may be forced to do something that has been, with good reasons, forbidden.”

Dumbledore sighed

“Anyway, this is not important right now. What interests us is that this room offers us the way to test you without further, um, damages to the school property, things that I suspect would displease Minerva quite a fair bit.”

Shaking his head slightly before grinning, he spoke. “But that's not why we are here. Let us see what you can do!”

Harry couldn't help but grin like an idiot as he nodded.

“How does this work, professor?” he gestured to the cross-lined ground.

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling as always. “Ah, good question, Harry. You see, this room will help us immensely. Not only one can increase the gravity - making things in the room and oneself more heavy, but the room grants us also the means to read the energy levels of both magic and life-force. This will give us a good idea of where to start. But without much further ado... ready, Harry?”

Said teenager nodded as he saw Dumbledore move towards a small circle made of gold where he took his position. As soon as Dumbledore stepped upon the golden surface all the lines in the room came to life in a dazzling display of light. Harry looked at the ground, and then at Dumbledore, noticing

how the walls and ceiling now glowed with light, lines previously hidden now easily seen to the eye. .

Despite the impressive show, Harry felt nothing. He looked at Dumbledore and made a big mistake.

He spoke. “That's it? I expected something more...”

He had just enough time to see Dumbledore grin and tap into a panel that hung in the air. Formerly, nothing had happened, but suddenly Harry dropped to his knees, surprised by the sudden attraction the ground was exercising upon his body.

Still he was able, after testing his body, to rise and stay up. His hair was plastered against his scalp and his clothes, that now seemed made of lead, were hanging from his body, threatening to tear in order to join the other things on the ground.

Harry looked at Dumbledore, surprised to see an expression akin to wonder on his aged face.

“Something wrong, professor?” He asked, pulling Dumbledore out of his amazement. The old wizard shook his head before tapping again on the translucent panel of light, quickly reading something before turning his attention to Harry

“No, nothing wrong, Harry.” Yet he was using a tone of voice that Harry had never heard before from the wise wizard. It was as though Dumbledore didn't know what to do. “Ah, ready to raise the level, Harry?”

Harry nodded. “I'm ready, professor.”

Dumbledore nodded. He looked back at Harry, his fingers stopping short of touching the panel. “Harry, are you sure everything is fine?”

“Yes, sir.”

“No feeling of discomfort?” he inquired.

“None but my hair being pressed to my head and my clothes feel like they are about to rip themselves off my body...”

“Good, good...” mumbled the older wizard before speaking more clearly.

“Let's try this, Harry. I will order the chamber to increase the gravity in an exponential fashion. With each passing minute the level of gravity in the chamber will increase. Once you find that the gravity is too much to bear, I will stop it.”

“Sounds fine, sir.”

Dumbledore smiled . “Very well, Harry. Prepare yourself - I am initiating the command.” And with those words he touched the glyph that glowed, acknowledging the order. At once the room started to hum as the old magic was once again summoned to fulfil its purpose.

At first Harry felt nothing different from before. The only reason he had been brought to his knees was that the room's magic took him by surprise.

This time he was prepared for the increasing pressure and attraction coming from the room.

It was quite some time before he started to feel the strain upon his muscles, his body weighing more and more and he had to actually force himself to remain standing. He couldn't understand how his clothing managed to remain whole but that was the least of his problems as his body, with each passing minute, became heavier.

Finally Harry couldn't resist much more and, even as he was fighting with everything he had he was forced to kneel. But he wouldn't surrender. That wasn't a part of him... even in the direst situations, even surrounded by Death Eaters and Voldemort himself he would not surrender or go down

without a fight.

But the decision wasn't his...

He was still being forced to kneel, his knees about to touch the ground when suddenly the increased gravitation field was lifted.

Startled, Harry couldn't compensate for it and immediately found himself racing towards the walls, everything around him a blur for less than half a second - the time it took him to smash against the wall.

WHAMM!

For a moment, before the actual contact, panic rushed through his veins.

Harry fully expected to be reduced to a smear against the very solid-looking wall.

It soon faded to leave place to panic as he felt his body easily carve a way trough the stone, the stone parting as if it was made of semi-solid clay that his body went through with little trouble. Still, he could feel the vibrations due to the impact spread through the wall but couldn't feel the pain that should have followed.

Soon enough Harry found that the kinetic charge he had built had finally been absorbed by the stone and found himself trapped within it. Cursing loudly he extracted himself from the stone that had molded itself to his body before making his way out the newly opened tunnel.

He was still cursing when he noticed that this time his clothing had been torn apart, huge tears turning his pant and shirt into nothing more than shredded material. Dumbledore soon joined him, a concerned expression on his face, not unlike the kind a grandfather would have for an endangered grandson.

“Harry, are you all right?” he asked, concerned and was a little surprised by the look of anger that was enveloping Harry's eyes, making the green orbs look as if they were on fire.

And then he felt it. It was impossible to not do so.

The magic, pulsing, bursting wildly through Harry's frame, almost a visible thing with such sheer power that for a moment Dumbledore felt awed and slightly fearful.

Then Harry started shouting, his anger apparent even as the magic receded.

“No! I'm not alright! I know that I'm not human but this is ridiculous! Look at my clothes! Look at the wall and the -oh so new- corridor I created! And look at my blasted face! Not a single scratch, not even a single bruise! I should have had all my bones broken into splinters, my body turned into

a bloodied piece of raw meat, but there is nothing wrong, nothing broken at all!”

He started pacing, his voice still high but with a note of desperation that didn't escape Dumbledore's attuned ears.

“Why? Why does this always happen to me? I never wanted any of this, I just wanted to be normal! Normal! But oh no, Harry Bloody Boy-Who-Lived Potter...” he looked at Dumbledore and the old wizard was stricken to see the raw helplessness that seemed to dull those two pieces of gleaming

emerald.

“What did I do to deserve that? What did I do to be the one singled out...”

He paused, breathing deeply before exhaling as softly. “When I was a boy, the Dursleys would always treat me as if I was a decease, something that would be better dead. I often asked myself why it was so, what had I done to deserve that shunning. They supplied me with enough answers. Because I

was a freak. Because I was abnormal. Because something was wrong in me and it shamed them.”

“Then Hagrid came and told me I was a wizard and suddenly I was normal... I belonged to a place where everybody was equal and finally I knew the reason why the Dursleys hated me.”

“And then the whole Boy Who Lived business started. And I was special again. Set apart by something that I couldn't even remember. And how I cursed that difference! But I could find some solace knowing that I was like everybody else and not the celebrity people saw in me. And now I find that I'm not even human, that I'm an alien with powers that set me apart from

everybody I know, from all of what I care about.”

He paused.

“It's not fair.”

Dumbledore looked at Harry and nodded, but his voice was soft when he

spoke.

“You can't change who you are, Harry, not the life that is yours.”

Harry snorted.

“Yeah. Right.”

---------------------------------------

The afternoon found Harry and Dumbledore back in one of the training rooms, this one bare of anything but some weird writing on the walls; something similar to Arabic, red curving letters upon blue walls.

After the debacle in the gravity room Dumbledore gave Harry some time to be by himself, a time that Harry had spent thinking about things. Now he was standing in the middle of the room and, while Dumbledore had no idea of what had happened to him, Harry's bearing was more focused, the look of

desperation gone, his green eyes shining again, fresh with a new purpose.

Without further ado Dumbledore attacked the other part of the problem - Harry's magic.

“It is clear after the session in the gravity room that your physical strength has increased significantly. As such we can guess that your running speed is also beyond human and animal levels. The fact that you are apparently immune to physical damage is also something that we will have to follow up with. For those things I have already taken measures in view of the lack of control that you have displayed.”

“That is something that we will have to deal with, not only for your own good, but also for the that of those around you. Still, I wish to assure you that I have prepared something that will grant you the control you need.”

“But for now, let's focus on your magic. For that purpose, I want you to have this back.”

And with those words Albus put a hand in one of the pockets of his robes, producing a wand that Harry recognized as his own. Taking it Harry looked back at the wizard, a part of him desiring the comfort the magical connection between him and his wand would bring him.

Still...

“But, professor, haven't you said that Voldemort would be able to sense when I use my wand and find where I am? Even when I hold it?” he asked, slightly worried, his right hand still upon the offered wand but not taking it.

Dumbledore nodded. “Yes, he would be able to do so. But that would be in a normal situation. In any other place but this. You see, Harry, this room was designed with the very purpose to block all magical signatures from reaching the outside world. While you are here the Dark Lord will not be able to feel you. For all purposes he is magically blind to the spells cast with your wand.”

Harry nodded, somewhat relieved. His hand closed upon the long shiny piece of wood, immediately feeling the connection, like a spark of happiness running through his body. He was feeling more than happy to be able to hold his wand again. It was warm between his fingers, the polished surface

of the wand feeling like silk to him.

“What do I have to do?”

Dumbledore blinked before laughing “Well, to be honest, I hadn't thought about that.” he paused, his blue eyes looking intently at Harry. “I suppose we should start simple... what about the Wingardium Leviosa charm? Pretty basic.”

“Leviosa... right...” he looked around. “Problem is, I have nothing to levitate, professor.”

Dumbledore looked sheepish even as he slapped his forehead. “Silly me, must be getting on years...” His hand moved to one of his pockets and withdrew a lemon drop candy from it. He carefully set it on the ground and pointed his own wand at it, transmuting it to a small chair.

“There, all set and ready. Try to levitate it Harry.”

Harry nodded and pointing his wand towards the small wooden chair said the incantation clearly as he had heard Hermione explain so long ago.

“Wingardium Leviosa!”

Answering to the command the chair shone silver for a moment before levitating as it was expected.

Dumbledore seemed to be relieved by that and neared the floating piece of furniture “Well, it seems that...”

Suddenly the chair started to tremble and vibrate, the silvery glow reappearing and expanding.

Dumbledore quickly looked at Harry who was holding the wand, seemingly unable to move. Then, all at once, the chair exploded into hundreds of shards just as Harry wrenched his wand aside, the tip of it leaving a trail of white light on its passage.

Albus, who had dived to the ground as soon as he realized what was happening, quickly reached Harry's prone form, his worry fading immediately as he saw Harry rise up.

“Harry, what happened?”

Harry looked at his wand before facing Dumbledore.

“I-I don't know. First everything seemed fine enough, but when I wanted to stop the charm I found it nearly impossible... it was as though the Priori Incantatem had occurred again, my wand vibrating and I unable to do anything about it. I don't understand it.”

Still his green eyes looked at the old headmaster with a silent question that Dumbledore was unable to forsake.

“I have some theories - vague ideas, really. Harry, I would ask you to perform other spells but keep in mind that they could damage your wand, maybe too much. The decision is yours.” He paused. “But if it would calm you, I can already tell you that your magic is there, yours and unmovable and yet... changed.”

“What do you mean, professor?”

“As I have told you, Lily agreed to bear you. Now, any magic that could be within you before was undetectable. In fact there was a reasonable possibility that your race had no magic power to speak of. But then magic interfered. I don't know what happened, but it can very well be that the months that you passed within Lily awoke the possibility of magic in you.”

“Who knows? Magic is a force that we can use to give form to our whims but we do not know explicitly that it doesn't lack some consciousness of its own... Lily and James refused to have you magically tested as it is standard with every child born in a house of wizards, so we can only

guess. But something happened that must have tipped the odds to your favor...”

With a sudden clarity that was alien to Harry, he understood what Dumbledore was referring to, his green eyes lit with understanding.

“Voldemort!”

Albus nodded. “Indeed the transfer of his abilities when he tried to kill you must have made you awake to the wonder of magic. But with the Killing Curse wrecking havoc in your body, its power was relative to your own focus. But now as your body becomes stronger your magic is also becoming

stronger.”

“How much stronger?” asked Harry in an unsteady voice.

Dumbledore sighed. “I really don't know, Harry. Remember this is but a theory, and as such can be wrong. We will need to discover it with time, but I suspect that your body will allow you to perform magic without the need of a wand. The real question is if you will be able to continue using a

wand as you did until now.”

“Why? I mean, you need a wand to perform most magic, right?”

“That's true but it's not the whole truth. Magic without a wand can be done, of course, but seems to lack real power or cohesion. Also the magic tends to grow unstable in its wandless form so if one was to cast a spell without a wand, if he could cast it to start with, the effects could go from nothing at all to results quite different from what we expect.”

“To make it work, one would need a will of steel to shape the raw magic that would fight to go wild. That without forgetting the possible damage the body risks in such a task. Now there's a level of magic that can be done without the support of a wand, but compared to the complexity of most potent

charms it leaves something to be desired.”

“Now as you know, there are magical creatures that can produce effects not unlike the spells, charms and curses that we use. Take the tears of the phoenix for instance. They can heal with astonishing strength and not even the most skilled master brewers such as Severus can come up with a

potion that can emulate the effects of the tears... They can make some potions of similar restorative power, yes, but they would be dangerous, lacking the safety the phoenix tears has by nature.”

“Phoenixes, like our friend Fawkes, and other mystical creatures of our small world are able to “use” magic without needing a wand... it is more than likely that their bodies are somehow conditioned to serve as channels for the energy, the primeval force, that is magic. As such it is a part of them, not unlike wizards but to a more greater degree.”

“But, as interesting as this is, sir,”-and it was- Harry had been engrossed by Dumbledore's dissertation and not for the first time wished to have the headmaster as a professor. “Why do you think that I will be able to do wandless magic?”

Dumbledore stroked his beard, his face pensive. “Several things induce me to think so, Harry. For one, your magic's strength has grown to the point that I can feel it when you are feeling powerful emotions, like anger. Then your body is proving to be way more resilient than that of any wizard or Muggle.”

“Finally I know the potential of your mind, of its power - which allowed you to perform a Patronus. That, for a student of third year, is quite an achievement. I have known older wizards who had trouble performing the charm, being barely able to form a silvery mist.”

Dumbledore clapped his hands together.

“Still, before we try that, let's see if you can still use the wand. Previously, we spoke of the Patronus, Harry. It is a powerful enough charm to see if the wand can hold down the surge of magic coming from you.” he paused, doubtful. “That is if you want to do it, Harry.”

Harry looked at the wand in his now bigger hands. So many adventures with it, so many close calls that he wouldn't have survived if not for those eleven inches of wood and a single phoenix feather. He would feel incomplete without it, that was for sure, but...

But Harry had come to an understanding within himself, a sort of epiphany that left him with a bittersweet taste in his mind. He was at a turning point of his life and he couldn't afford to be distracted - neither by what hadn't a solution, like his change, nor by what had a solution, like

the possible loss of his wand... He was starting to see the events of the last days beyond the troubles it brought him but instead in the advantages it could bring him.

That didn't mean he was happy about it. Quite the contrary. It still made his blood boil and enraged his mind knowing that he would forever be set apart from the rest of humanity - that along with a dozen more reasons that he preferred to not contemplate.

He wasn't ready to do so.

Not yet.

As for now, he had been asked to perform something that may cost him his one of his most precious possessions - what had made him a wizard nearly five years ago.

Breathing deeply he looked at Dumbledore.

There was no question.

“I'll do it.”

The look of proud affection that Dumbledre bestowed upon him was almost enough for Harry to forget that he was risking his wand.

Dumbledore's affection was priceless.

“Expecto Patronum!”

From the wand a blast of silvery light came forth, more powerful than ever, easily dwarfing the Patronus that had driven off all those Dementors back in his third year. Scorching the ground with its power it impacted against the wall, a stream of unending light and raging ferocity.

Harry gritted his teeth, feeling the power summoned by his charm go wild, the room filling with ethereal light even as his wand vibrated crazily. Harry could feel it warming and see the smoke that was starting to rise from its wooden parts.

But what was infinitely worse was the sound of cracking wood that reached his ears even with the Patronus racing from the wand.

Harry dropped the wand as he dove for cover. It remained there, in mid air, instead of falling to the ground even as the web of cracks grew in number, letting rays of silver light free, chasing the shadows from the room.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity, but were mere seconds, the wand exploded, silver turning to red and expanding in an all-encompassing circle as the wood disintegrated, not leaving even splinters.

A single, gleaming phoenix feather remained for Harry and Dumbledore to see. It slowly descended, floating like an autumn leaf, falling softly before touching the ground where it remained shining gently, its red and gold colors seeming so alive, more with the air filled of the remaining of

Harry's Patronus, dots of silvery light descending gently like pure, pure snow.

At first Harry felt only shock. His mind was having problems accepting what had happened. He looked up at Dumbledore in search of something, something he wasn't sure of... but found what he was searching for missing. The old wizard seemed as much in shock as he was but Harry doubted it was due to the same reason.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he neared the golden-red plume and, with a care so reverent that it was as if the feather was about to fade, Harry picked it up, cradling it between his hands. He knew he should be crying for the loss, that he should be shouting in a mindless roar but somehow, holding the magic element that was the core of his wand made him feel better. Not alone, not as if he had lost something precious in a pointless demonstration.

It was with gratitude that he felt Dumbledore's wand press softly against the back of his head, just before a soft voice spoke and he was sent into an oblivious sleep state, the warmth coming from the feather never leaving him, even in the darkness.

---------------------------------------

Harry slowly blinked as he returned to consciousness.

His hand tightened upon the blanket that was covering him as he took in his surroundings.

He was back in Dumbledore's office and was lying on one of the sofas in the room, the fire moving gently as it warmed the room. Dumbledore was writing something with a golden quill, his attention fixated on his work, not noticing that Harry was awake until he made a significant noise which drew the headmaster's gaze to him.

Kindly, Dumbledore smiled. “How are you feeling, Harry?”

Harry looked at his hands, an expression of sadness upon his face. It was with slight surprise that he felt a weight settle upon his legs. A quick look told him what he suspected; Fawkes had chosen him as a pillow once again. The magical bird was looking at him, its small dark eyes filed with sadness.

“Sorry, Fawkes.” He muttered softly. Then he turned to look back at the headmaster and gave the only answer he could give.

“Lousy.” A single word conveying a hundred meanings.

Dumbledore nodded. “I see.”

Those simple words said, Albus paused, wondering if he was right to do what he was about to propose to the young wizard. Most wizards wouldn't. And yet Harry had demonstrated time and time again that he wasn't a normal wizard.

Placing his papers into one of his desk's drawers, Dumbledore spoke a single word that was enough to rouse the boy out of his brooding mood.

“Harry.”

Said teenager looked up at Dumbledore, his expression dark. Sighing, Albus drew from one of the numerous drawers of his desk a middle sized box, the sides of it made of black wood decorated with thin lines of gold.

Opening it, he drew forth three rings of the same size, less than a foot in diameter, made of a dark metal that Harry didn't recognize. It didn't reflect the light of the room and in fact seemed to be drinking in any illumination around it.

Carefully Dumbledore placed them on his desk, one near the others, each touching the other, their dark color easily spotted even against the deep brown wood of the headmaster's desk.

Harry's attention was aroused. He neared the desk after setting the blanket aside and allowing Fawkes to return to its perch. His eyes took in the dark rings, before looking back at the headmaster.

Dumbledore spoke without hearing the question in Harry's mind, his blue eyes looking at the young wizard carefully, waiting for the reaction that was to come.

“After what happened with your wand, Harry, it's clear that you are way too powerful. Too powerful to use a normal wand. During their lives, and especially in their puberty, most wizards pass through such growths of magical power and abilities but never to the point of making a wand explode.”

Sighing tiredly, Dumbledore closed his eyes. “That can only mean that your magic has grown to such levels that we have to use extreme caution, at least until you manage to control it. To complicate things, if your abilities are still growing; if you are becoming stronger and stronger, then it's

reasonable to believe that your magic is becoming stronger too.”

“How much time does this... magic growth take?” Harry's voice was soft, but at least it didn't sound as bitter as before. Opening his eyes, Albus noticed that Harry was still looking at the rings.

“The magical growth lasts several years but you can think of it as a mountain, starting about when the wizard is ten years old and stretching until he or she reaches the mid twenties, sometime later depending on the wizard or witch.”

“The magical growing spur reaches its peaks just as when the teenager wizard is between sixteen and eighteen years old. Later on, through studying, rituals or exercise, he can see his powers grow.”

Still looking at the rings Harry spoke, almost too low for Dumbledore to hear. “Will it be the same with me? How does my magic work?”

The headmaster's voice was soft and compassionate... but still harsh with the truth. “I don't know, Harry. But what I do know is that, sadly enough, without you being able to control that growth in your magical powers you can become even more dangerous to those around you than you already are.”

Finally Harry looked at the older wizard, the expression on his face unreadable. “ Now what?”

Leaning back in his seat, Dumbledore gestured towards the rings, Harry's attention moved, shifting back to the trio of rings.

“The only thing we can do. Those rings that you are looking at are made of a special metal that blocks the magic of any wizard or witch that wears them. Before the Dementors were used to guard Azkaban, these rings were used as a way to control the prisoners. But as they kept their mind and cunning

the Ministry soon used other means to control those who were too dangerous... Thus they started using those soul sucking monsters that no wizard should trust.”

Picking one of the rings up Harry looked at it closely, noticing the seams in the metal.

“How do they work?”

Smiling thinly, Dumbledore shook his head. “That would take too much time to explain... It would suffice to say that it prevents the external use of magic, all the while lowering the magical defenses one has, making it easier to control those who wear them.”

“Magic defense?”

The headmaster nodded. “That's it, Harry. While normally not powerful enough to block or negate the effects of charms and curses, each magically sensitive being has a certain level of defense against magic, but as raising those defenses take a respectable amount of time, most wizards forsake them.”

“That makes sense, I suppose.” said Harry, looking dubious at best. Why wouldn't people want to raise their defenses?

“Returning to the rings, one is worn around the neck and the other two on the wrists, but no sane wizard would want to wear them, as it is seen as a sign of shame. Most would see this as choosing to become Muggle. No wizard can stand wearing them too long as the desire to summon the magic that

they feel, but are unable to use, is ever present.”

Harry's eyes narrowed. “You want me to wear them. Is that it?”

The old wizard nodded. “It's the only way, I'm afraid, Harry. With your power being so vast, there is no other way. But it's still your decision to put them on. I will not force it on you.”

Harry raised the ring up to eye level, looking at it intently as his fingers moved upon its smooth length.

Then with a shuddering breath, he pulled the seams apart, being careful not to break it as he felt he could do without any problem. He moved it to his neck and closing his eyes, put it upon his neck.

With a dry click the ring closed. His fingers hooked around it, as it was still loose enough for that, and gave a slight pull, testing the feeling of the magic-inhibiting metal against the over-sensitive skin of his neck. It was a rather pleasant feeling so far and still he could feel the increase in his heart rate.

Swallowing, his hand moved towards the second ring and with the same care as with the first, he snapped it around his left wrist. That done, he moved on to the third and last and with a deep breath, closed it.

As one the dark metal of the three rings shone, gaining color until it was bright red. The metal started to vibrate even as it reduced in size, tightening around his neck and wrists. For a while more the metal

glowed and vibrated, fighting to seal off Harry's power.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the rings lost their gleam and stopped moving.

As soon as that happened, Harry felt as if something was restricting him, or a part of him, limiting it. He could feel his magic still, maybe even stronger and more clearly than before, and what's more, ever-growing...

But he could also feel the binds that had been placed upon his power, restraining it. Somehow, that filled him with regret and sadness.

Harry looked at Dumbledore, the old wizard seemed older somehow but that impression soon disappeared. The sadness that he could feel in those blue eyes remained, however.

“How are you feeling, Harry?” he asked quietly.

Harry remained as quiet as he gave the headmaster of his school a blank stare. “How do you think I'm feeling?”

Then he cracked an empty grin. “Lousy of course…what else?”

Dumbledore's lips twitched and he smiled slightly at Harry. “That may be so, Harry but I promise that soon I will take them off and you will be free.”

Harry nodded. Then a thought came to his mind. He looked briefly at Fawkes.

“Sir, what happened to the feather of my wand?”

“Ah, that...” he answered while giving a smile to the young man. “Well, I have sent it to Ollivander. He will prepare a new wand for you. But it will be different. Yes, immensely so.”

“Different in what way?” asked Harry, curious, trying to get his mind off the strange sensation that was the feeling of having his power sealed or the rings upon his skin.

“Mr Ollivander, like all good craftmen, is continually trying to ameliorate his wands. Lately he has been complaining about the lack of challenges. So I presented one to him that I hope will be able to stimulate his brilliant mind. It should be ready by the time we return.”

Rising from the chair, Albus moved close to Harry. Harry looked at him with slightly inquiring emerald eyes.

“Return from where?”

Dumbledore mussed up his beard, a gesture that Harry had grown to associate with some deep thinking. The headmaster's deep blue eyes weren't twinkling but the intensity behind them was breathtaking.

“I believe, Harry, that the question should be return from when.”

Harry blinked.

That could only mean one thing.

“We're travelling in time?”

Dumbledore nodded.

“For a number of reasons.” he paused as if considering something.

Finally he spoke, having reached a decision. “I must be honest with you. Ever since you... changed, you have looked up to me, in search of guidance and confidence, trusting me to find the right answers to help you through this difficult time. I am more than honored that you hold me in such high

esteem, but to be honest with you, I recognize that I'm not the best man to help you.”

“But…but…Professor, you're the world's greatest wizard!”

Dumbledore smiled wistfully. “I would like to believe that, Harry. But the truth is that I'm not that great. I'm nothing more than an old man who wishes for some things that may never be, all the while fighting to preserve what we have. I am but a man who has been given much time on this

little planet we call home, but that doesn't mean that I'm able to deal with things that remind me how little my knowledge really is and how limited is my strength.”

Albus's smile widened. “I don't feel bad about that, Harry, and neither should you. Much has been asked of me but also much has been given. You remind me of myself when I was younger and the world seemed to rest upon my shoulders.” He added with a slight smile.

All the while, Harry blushed slightly, embarrassed to be compared with a wizard, let alone one as great as Dumbledore, his mind travelling back to the time when Aberforth had said something similar.

“A great man, Dumbledore” Hagrid had said not so long ago and Harry could only agree.

Unknowing (or not), Albus continued “Back in that time I had help, help from people more wise and kind than me, people that sadly enough are long gone from this plane of existence. It's those men and women that we are going to see. With them I am sure that you will be able to rise to this challenge life has imposed upon you... as you always have.”

“Eh... thanks,” said Harry, a hand trailing through his midnight locks, messing it up more than it already was.

“When do we go?” he asked after a moment.

“Soon enough. Before we have to take care of some details, most of them concerning the languages you will need. The rest you will learn in the place we will travel to.”

“Excuse me, sir, but what do you mean by languages?”

Dumbledore chuckled. “We aren't remaining in England, Harry. The first part of our trip will take us to the orient; India, China, Japan, Korea, Thailand... next, let me see, ah, yes, Italy, France, Greece, Turkey, yes, and maybe one or two more countries before we return to Brazil.”

Harry swallowed. “That's... uh, a lot of countries, professor.”

Dumbledore smiled. “Yes, Harry, it is needed. Before facing the problem of the languages, do you have any other question?”

Harry hesitated for a moment before asking. He knew that this issue had already been dealt with but he couldn't help it.

“Um ,sir, could I owl Hermione or Ron?” he paused before rushing, as he saw Dumbledore starting to speak. “Not to tell them what is happening, of course. Just to see how they're doing?”

Albus sighed, hating what he was about to say once again, but knowing that it was a necessity. Dumbledore knew Voldemort well enough to know that any contact between Harry and his two friends would be noticed, despite the apparent lack of action from the Dark Lord.

Voldemort wanted Harry beyond anything else, wanting to destroy him and the hope he represented. What in common men (and not to say wizards) was dangerous, all that rage and hate, in a being such as Voldemort was something even worse because he had enough control, enough cold blood, to use his emotions, not the other way around.

Even his seemingly random burst of anger upon his followers, all those uses of the Cruciatus Curse upon them were but a display, a controlled means to turn fear into terror even in the heart of his most devoted Death Eaters.

Voldemort would get a hold of any communication between the trio and dissect it with cold, ruthless logic, picking up scraps of information that he would store for further use. And sooner or later he would use that information to find a way to destroy Harry.

The summer between fourth and fifth year, Dumbledore wasn't that concerned about intercepted communications between the trio. He knew Voldemort would instead get a firm hold on all his followers, restoring the control he had nearly sixteen years ago before moving on other things he needed to do before he decided to go after the Boy Who Lived.

But now...

Dumbledore sighed. “ I'm afraid that I can't allow that, Harry. You know my reasons and you know that Sirius, not to say Remus, think likewise. This is not for your security but also, right now, any contact between you and Miss Granger, or Mister Weasley, would put them in danger and I believe that you are the one who knows that better than anyone else.”

Harry looked to the ground before nodding, even if the reluctance was there.

Dumbledore sighed. “I promise you will see them soon enough, Harry, but in the meantime we have to address our language problem.”

Harry nodded, all thoughts concerning his friends apparently gone. “I'm not that good at foreign idioms, professor...” he said, feeling slightly embarrassed.

Dumbledore laughed that heart-warming laughter of his. “Ah yes. I suppose the Dursleys weren't too inclined to teach you foreign languages, right?”

Harry nodded, not knowing what to say. It seemed wrong somehow to speak ill about the Dursleys like he would do with Ron... and then there were the glimpses of the guilt that Dumbledore had sometimes looking at him.

It was right within the twinkle of his deep blue eyes, as if he regretted leaving him at the Dursleys' once he discovered how unloved Harry had been, but knowing that it had been the only way to ensure his safety. If it had happened otherwise, the repercussions could have been dire.

Harry quickly chased those thoughts out of his mind. He wasn't sure if Dumbledore could read minds but even so it wasn't good to think about what was in the past.

Dumbledore was once again stroking his beard, even as a slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Now about languages and the spells concerning their learning...” he started shifting into professor mode, which attracted Harry's undivided attention, even as his mind shifted to one of his best friends...

<Hermione should be here. She would enjoy this.>

“As you know, most languages are classified by their origins. Some have the same roots while others belong to other groups with totally different characteristics. Generally those root languages change through time and contact with other cultures. I would like to say that those contacts between culture were always pacific but that would be a lie. On the contrary, most of those contacts originated in some sort of armed conflict, the culture and lifestyle being absorbed by the dominant group.”

“So through time those primal languages, due to the contact with other cultures evolved, forming the ones that we use today, right?” asked Harry.

Dumbledore's smile widened. “That's right. Through that contact they evolved and that evolution continued as time passed. Each culture, as they appeared and disappeared through the centuries, collaborated somewhat in that change. It's likely that if we took someone of this day and age and moved him through time, let's say nine hundred years back, he would have his fair share of problems trying to be understood by the people of that chronological period.”

“Now on the learning itself, there are several spells and charms that can work to that end. Generally the spells are divided into two kinds depending on the source of the language that can be inanimate, like books, or animate, the knowledge shared by two or more wizards.”

“What's the difference?”

“Well, inanimate ones are those most used by wizards and witches. It produces less strain to the mind but they lack the `something' that makes one fluent in the chosen language. It is, to put it in terms that you will understand, like knowing all the rules of Quidditch, all the possible moves, all the league's teams and its players, being able to speak of it for hours but not being able to play it. You will play some but you will never be good at it.”

That he could understand. “And the animate one?”

“The effects are more intense, not to say complete, than the other type. You gain the skills the source had of that language, it becoming a part of your own knowledge. Differently from the other kind, the knowledge once gained is kept and you can work on it with time, becoming better at it as if it

was yours to start with. For all purposes this is the best option.”

“But the knowledge isn't gained without cost. The human mind is continuously sorting the information it gets through the senses, protecting the brain from an amount of data too great to be handled without danger. This is why, amongst other things, we have to give repose to the mind and body when we are studying. The spell is dangerous because of the sheer volume of knowledge that can be taken from the source and downloaded in one go. It can be too much for the brain to handle at once.”

“What happens then?”

“The brain can suffer a shock that plunges the wizard receiving the knowledge into a coma, its depth depending on the size of the information assimilated. The fact that the one receiving the knowledge doesn't get only the language skills, but also the impressions the mind links to the learning process is dangerous for your core personality. When that happens for a moment they lose focus on who they are, swept away by the emotions that the source had linked to the time he or she spend learning the language shared.”

“It's not a pleasant feeling. I have known wizards that have cracked under the pressure the spell brought to them, the alien emotions overriding their own each time they used that artificially obtained tongue. All of those risks are enough for most wizards to forsake the possibility to add a lifetime

worth of language skills to their own.”

For a moment Harry remained silent, thinking about what he had heard, considering the information Dumbledore just gave him.

“What do you propose, sir?” he asked to the old wizard that was looking at him with his intense eyes.

“For you to benefit of our travels to its full extent, you need to have language skills as complete as possible.” he said gravely. “I know that you are concerned by what I told you about the animate language charm but remember that your physiology is different from humans. The magic will

fulfill its bidding but how you will absorb that knowledge will be different from how a human would do it.”

Harry nodded reluctantly. The determination was clear on his face. “I understand, sir. Do it.”

“Good boy,” said Dumbledore, obviously once again pleased with Harry.

He then rose from his seat and moved towards the fireplace. In front of it were two chairs, facing each other, a short distance apart. Harry followed suit and sat in the chair opposite of Dumbledore's, feeling the warmth of the fire through his clothing, heating his skin.

Dumbledore drew his wand, holding it loosely between his fingers.

“As you already have an education in Latin, we will start with that.”

“That... makes sense.” agreed Harry.

Latin was imparted as part of the curriculum at Hogwarts, as many spells and charms depended on the old language to work. As such Harry had quite a good grasp of it, but there wasn't a doubt that Dumbleodre's skills and knowledge on it were far greater than his.

“Ready, Harry?” Dumbledore asked softly.

Breathing deeply, Harry slowly nodded.

“Ad voluntatis, cun lingua trasmuto...”

With a flicker the point of his wand was touching his left temple.

“Latinae cognitio divido...”

A small ball of dark red light appeared on the tip, growing with the wizard's words.

“Et libere donum in perpetuum.”

The wand moved through the empty space separating them, leaving behind a trail of crimson semi-solid light before gently touching the scar in the middle of Harry's brow. The scar glowed red as it started absorbing the magic.

Harry's whole body trembled as he felt the knowledge being crammed into his brain, new concepts assaulting his mind, unknown sensations and foreign emotions turning, twisting within his mind with the violence of a thousand storms.

It was agony.

It was liberation!

Crash!

Harry found himself sprawled on the ground, what remained of the chair lying all around him. He was breathing hard, and trying to blink out the sweat that covered his face, drops falling upon his neck.

He saw how the thin stream of red light dissipated to nothingness and slowly he drew his hand to his forehead, feeling the lingering sensation of magic still there.

Slowly he shook his head as he threw his first glance at Dumbledore.

The old wizard was clearly tired but looked way better than how Harry felt, not that he could complain of that to Dumbledore. After all it was the headmaster who had performed the charm. He just had to hold on against the rush of information.

Still with incredible agility for someone his age the older wizard knelt near Harry, a hand moving to steady the younger wizard who was still slightly shaking.

“How are you, Harry?”

Said teenager blinked and shook his head before looking at the professor.

Slowly a grin spread upon his face.

“Apart from feeling my head rattle as though it was a bell? Wonderful, sir!”

Dumbledore blinked, obviously surprised by Harry's answer. There was no sarcasm and Albus could feel that Harry wasn't lying. He was indeed feeling wonderful.

That wasn't supposed to happen.

“You're sure of that, Harry?”

Harry nodded before straightening up, followed by Dumbledore who was taller than him, but not by much.

“Yeah... it's as though I...” he paused, searching for words. “As though I was awake for the first time and all my thoughts are now so... clear.” He laughed, feeling joyous for some reason. The sound was so honest that Dumbledore couldn't help but chuckle, Fawkes also crooning some happy tunes as he flapped his wings.

When Fawkes rejoiced with his exuberance Dumbledore looked at the young man in front of him with puzzlement. From what he could see the boy was perfectly fine. His eyes seemed cleared from something, as if the mind and the soul behind them was free at least.

“Why my boy, you are proving to be a well of surprises. What you are feeling is like nothing I have knowledge of. In fact you should be feeling downright nauseous. Didn't you feel slightly, um, unsteady?”

Harry looked at him with his green eyes so focused that Dumbledore couldn't help but marvel.

“No, professor.” Then his expression shifted and he spoke, but this time in perfectly fluent Latin. “At first I felt what you told me I would but then...” He paused. “Then it was as though something that had been... trapped was suddenly free. And now I feel like never before.”

Then he smiled. “And I can speak in Latin, professor.” Again he shifted language, returning to English. “The spell worked, sir.”

Dumbledore nodded, not quite sure what to do about this development.

<Maybe this will cause some slight changes to our travelling plans.>

With a flick of his wrist the chair was repaired but this time Dumbledore made sure the chair would be able to withstand the pressure.

Well, he hoped so.

“If all is alright for you, let's continue then. Are you ready for more, Harry?”

Harry's grin was answer enough.

--------------------------------------

Three hours later, Dumbledore passed a hand against his tired eyes.

The spell wasn't too taxing on the caster but after several hours of doing so even Albus was starting to find his mind slowing down. It was only due to his skills and experience that his mind wasn't feeling like it had been put through a blender.

On the contrary Harry seemed to have been possessed by his friend Hermione. He kept asking Dumbledore to share his knowledge of languages, not needing much time to deal with the effects of the language transfer.

Right now Harry had mastered almost all the mortal languages Dumbledore knew.

Latin, French, Spanish Arabic, Japanese, Korean, Chinese, Thai, Dutch, Gaelic languages, Armaic, Greek and so many more. With each new dose of knowledge Harry seemed to be more awake, more focused, astonishing the old mage. During one of the pauses, Dumbledore had Harry shift from one tongue to another non stop, asking questions in Classic Greek demanding to be answered in one of

the so many variants of Chinese.

Harry was reading an old text about transfiguration, another test to see if he was able to deal with the massive download of information. He wasn't only reading but actually he was translating the text, that was in Old French, into Japanese at the same time.

What Harry didn't know was that Dumbledore, despite being the source of his knowledge, wasn't able to do what the teenager was doing so effortlessly. He was able to do it but not directly, translating it from text to spoken words without a pause.

“That's enough, Harry,” the young man looked up, blinking like an owl, startled into stopping his task. “Well done, very well done. I think we are ready for our trip.”

That said, he drew from one of the desk's drawers an item that Harry had trouble recognising. Still if they were going to travel through time it could be only one thing, even if it was radically different from the one he had once seen in Hermione's possession.

A time-turner.

“Is that a time turner? I thought all time turners were monitored by the Ministry of Magic, sir.”

Dumbledore smiled as he caressed the magical device.

It was a small shield upon which Harry could see what seemed to be the entire solar system. The object made of gold looked particularly old, and still the planets shone brightly, each a different color as they moved upon the surface of the item.

“That's right Harry. But this time turner is a personal gift from a friend of mine, gone since many long years. It had been crafted a long time ago and my friend had kept it through the years.”

“You see, Harry, there are many wizards that would be labeled dark by institutions such as the Ministry of Magic of their country, not concerned that they are not. The reason for that is that, as much good a Ministry can do, there are also many other things that they can do wrong, our dear

Minister Fudge being a clear example of that.”

Harry nodded, feeling his temper rise at the mention of Fudge.

Albus gave him a lopsided smile, as he noticed the change in his young charge's emotions once the name of the Minister was said. “This friend of mine, Karshan of Tulse, that while now dead, I hope you will know soon enough, gave this to me as a present decades ago. A great defender of

the Light, he was killed protecting his magically-hidden town from a plague unleashed by a dark wizard doing Grindelwald's bidding.”

“This Time-Turner, one of the many magical objectc collected and protected by Karshan and his family, has the particularity that it can move the users years backwards in time instead of hours like most Time-Turners do. That's what we are going to use for our little trip trough time.”

Harry nodded, still feeling unsure of what to say or to think about this journey Dumbledore was taking him on. Still, it would be incredible; all the places he would see, all the things he would learn...

Wait a second…

Learn?

<Oh my god! I'm starting to think like Hermione!>

The weirdest thing was that he found that perspective exciting!

Maybe he did have some head problems after all.

“I want you to understand one thing, Harry...”

Harry looked at Dumbledore, whose blue eyes were shining strangely.

“You are not going on a pleasure trip, but to learn about yourself. You will be training with many people and that will demand a lot from you. But you must understand that what you are going to learn is necessary. With a power like the one you are starting to discover you need knowledge in order to not become a danger like Voldemort only a thousand times more dangerous.”

Harry nodded, slightly intimidated... not only by Dumbledore's words but also because they were enough to make him remember the power, vastly unchecked, that was now his. A power that he had no idea how to control.

But somehow the fear he was feeling slowly was changing, tuning more into expectation, into his well-known curiosity.

What could he really do?

“Now, Harry, if you are ready...”

That startled Harry. This wasn't what he was expecting. He supposed that Dumbledore would at least have taken some items with him - some clothes or something like that. But as far as he could see, the old wizard was only taking his wand with him. Dumbledore's attention seemed totally focused

on the magna Time-Turner

“Um, sir?”

“Yes, Harry?” Dumbledore said, not taking his sight off the magical instrument.

“It may sounds…dumb, but aren't we talking anything with us? Like the things that we left in Brazil?”

Without looking, Dumbledore spoke “We are taking something with us, Harry.”

Harry blinked. “We are?”

“Of course.” Dumbledore nodded as his fingers moved upon the smooth surface.

“We are wearing our clothes, aren't we?”

Pause.

“Apart that, what else, sir?”

Finally looking up, Dumbledore motioned Harry to get nearer. “Don't worry, my boy. We have all we need and what we don't we can get them where we are going. Now are you ready?”

“I think so...” his eyes moved around the room. Who knew when he would see it again? When would he step back into the corridors of Hogwarts along with his friends? Then his eyes stopped upon something, or rather someone else.

“Sir, what about Fawkes? Are we leaving him here?”

Albus smiled. “I'm afraid that we can't take him with us. The magic of this Time-Turner would kill him. Don't worry. We will be back -relatively speaking- in the next second or so, as it would be with any ordinary Time-Turner.”

Harry nodded, accepting the old wizard's words. He could not resist taking a last look at the singing bird.

Nodding to himself, Dumbledore extended his hand and with his wand pointed it towards the shining object. Releasing it, Harry was astonished to find it floating, free of the aged hand that had sustained it until moments ago.

In a powerful voice, Dumbledore touched the object with his wand.

“Deslagrate...”

The time turner exploded into a net of light that expanded with amazing speed, covering the walls with lines of gold before retracting with the same speed, slicing through both he and Dumbledore, leaving trails of light upon each square inch of them.

The Time-Turner seemed to have turned into a star, shining brightly with soft golden light. Dumbledore's wand impacted against the mass of light that unleashed golden flames. Once again the old wizard's powerful voice resounded in the room... making the world shake...

“…murit tempiet.... INTERVALLIA!!”

And shatter.

---------------------------------------

Next part: India

Coming soon...

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Author's words, (second take):

Well with this ends the first part of Summer of Discoveries.

When I started writing this chapter my idea was to make only one chapter that would be composed by parts 1.1, 1.2, 1.3. Along with those now three posted sub-chapters, Summer of Discoveries would have many others covering the countries Harry and Dumbledore would travel and stay.

So Summer of discoveries 2.1 would be India, the next one 2.2 China and so on…

All in all, time-wise, Summer of Discoveries would cover three years of adventures and travels trough foreign countries, Harry (re)discovering himelf and his legacy as the last son of Krypton under the guide of Dumbledore and a legion of new characters, some real historical beings, others created by me and some non humans characters added in the mix .

But now, looking at the three parts posted, considering the time it took me to have them ready I realize that posting the remaining parts of SoD would take time, time in wich the rest of the characters of the Harry Potter books would be missing.

As I know that many of you are awaiting the introduction of the new Harry to the rest of the cast, such as Hermione, Ron, Draco and the others I am considering changing my original idea.

Personaly I have no problem in following as I have till now, that is following a chronological line, following Harry day by day even in the past and reach Hogwarts and the sixth year in its due time.

But as I know that many await that moment with impatience I am considering in leaving aside Harry and Albus adventures in the past and jump to the start of the sixth year…

Up to this point I leave the decision to the readers:

Please tell me what you think in the review and if there is a majority asking me to jump to the sixth year I will do so. If not I will continue as I wanted in the first place and the next chapter to be posted would be Harry in India, the start of his training and everything that will happen there.

This said, once again thanks for taking time to read my story.

Till next time

Lu

Dragonlord