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Books » Harry Potter Rated: M, English, Adventure & Romance, [Harry P., Fleur D.] Bellatrix L., Hedwig, Words: 198k+, Favs: 8k+, Follows: 10k+, Published: May 26, 2021 Updated: Aug 53,934Chapter 6 - Just a Windy Spell

AN: Enjoy!

Chapter 6 - Just a Windy Spell

Dumbledore's unexpected offer had made Harry fall into deep thought. He had not expected that he would be adopted and he had certainly not seen it coming that it would be Bellatrix Black of all people.

'Is she batshit crazy in this world too?'

He had not looked up information on her before, he had only assumed that she was locked in Azkaban and that even when she would be broken out by Voldemort he would have nothing to do with her since if things went his way, he would be far away from the war.

'What about Fleur?' he asked himself.

His first thought was to confront her but then he felt like slapping himself upside the head.

'She's neck-deep into the war before the actual war even started.'

Would he not be looking for needless troubles if he tried to speak to her face to face? If her recent actions were anything to go by, she was not going to stop at only Snape, Fudge, and the Malfoys. Harry's 'saving people thing' (as Hermione used to call it) had never gone away even after decades of war and killings. Because of that, he had to remind himself and tell himself every day that he would not get involved with the war again.

'It's unheard of for one to get a second chance at life, a life where they could be anything they wanted. I can't screw up this time. I won't.'

After reminding himself of his resolution once again, he decided: he would not involve himself with the girl. But he started smirking when an evil thought popped up in his mind. He could not simply ignore this thing altogether now, could he? A small prank, a bit of harmless fun was always welcome. He grabbed a quill and piece of parchment and wrote two lines on it.

'She's going to die from anxiety.' He thought as he grinned mischievously. Tapping the piece of parchment with the tip of his wand, it transformed into an origami aeroplane and flew towards the girls' dorm, particularly towards the fourth year girls' room.

⁂

Fleur Delacour was packing her things in her trunk with the help of magic, preparing herself to leave. The express did not leave from Hogsmeade until half a day later but she liked to have everything ready with time to spare. She was absentmindedly levitating her clothes into her suitcase with her wand when someone knocked on the door. One of her roommates went to see who it was, only for the origami aeroplane to quickly fly through the opened door, directly to Fleur.

"Another admirer of yours?" her roommate said snarkily.

Fleur did not even deign to give her an answer, merely glancing at her indifferently before taking the floating origami plane in her hand. She was still very young, only 14 years old, so her charm/allure had yet to truly kick in. It was when she reached the peak of her puberty around the age of 15 or 16 that her nature as a Veela could no longer be hidden. Her unnatural beauty and allure would give away her identity at a glance. If other girls were envious now, it would get twice as bad next year.

'Beauxbatons or Hogwarts, French or English, it looks like it doesn't matter. Petty and narrow-minded people are the same everywhere.'

She still remembered that even her mother-in-law and her sister-in-law used to call her "Phlegm" for years when they thought she was not around to hear them. Putting that thought aside, she unfurled the piece of parchment and read its contents.

You were wearing a fresh, spring-scented perfume when you passed by me on the third-floor corridor. I watched you on Halloween night too.

Your invisibility cloak can't hide you. I know what you did.

Her already pale white face drained of all colour when she read that. A wave of panic came over her and the hand holding the piece of parchment started to tremble.

'How?! How was I found out?!'

She was almost hyperventilating. She had no illusions as to what would happen to her if she were to get caught. She was, after all, a bona fide serial killer. She had killed a professor, an eleven-year-old boy, an influential figure and the head of a Noble and Ancient House and she had even killed the Minister of Magic. There would be no lenience for her whatsoever. Even a life sentence to Azkaban would be considered a mercy... No, she would be sentenced to a Dementor's Kiss.

Even worse was that she could not understand how she had slipped up. She had no friends at all and she had made an image for herself as a bookworm too so nobody would find her absences strange. People would think that she was just in the library or in some empty class, studying. Furthermore, she had spent fours years being an exemplary student, never getting caught breaking any rules, just silently preparing for what was about to come. In addition, whenever she went on her "adventures" she would cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself and also wear the invisibility cloak on top of it. Even more, she always tied her long silvery hair up in a bun with a special charm that would make it impossible for her to leave a strand of hair behind by mistake. She truly did not understand how she had been caught.

'No way for just discovering the scent of my perfume to be enough to catch me!'

She could not accept that something as trivial and banal as that had thrown such a wedge in her carefully planned out actions. Closing her eyes, she breathed in and out a few times. It took some effort and a few good minutes, but with the help of her Occlumency, she managed to clear her mind and rid herself of her anxiety and panic.

'Whoever sent this note could have turned me in to Dumbledore. It would have been over for me. But they didn't...clearly, they want something from me. Trying to blackmail me?'

A murderous expression appeared on her face. If someone thought she would play to their tunes and let them take advantage of her, they had another thing coming for them. Her eyes flashed when she looked at the crumpled piece of parchment in her hand as an idea came to her. The note may have been unsigned but it had been sent using magic. And it had happened only a few minutes ago.

Every witch and wizard had an area of expertise, something that they excelled at. Some were better at duelling, some at Transfiguration, some at Potions, while others were better at Charms. Fleur Delacour was more than proficient when it came to charms. With a few muttered incantations, she tapped the piece of parchment and transformed into an origami bird which started flying ahead of her. She had charmed the note to return to the sender. All she had to now was follow it from behind.

With a silent Summoning Charm, a fluid-like silvery cloak flew from the trunk into her hand. Ignoring the strange looks her roommates were throwing at her, she left the dorm and followed the flying origami into the common room and then through the entrance, outside the Ravenclaw tower, on the corridors of the castle.

⁂

As a young boy, Harry did not have many things to pack. His clothes and shoes were stuffed into his trunk with a mere swish of his wand and his school items (books, quills, ink, parchment and so on) were packed easily with another household charm too. His Nimbus 2000 was always in his trunk when he did not fly with it at night so he had nothing else to do except for telling Hedwig that they were leaving. With that thought in mind, he left the Ravenclaw Tower and headed towards the Owlery.

He was close to arriving at the top of the West Tower (where the Owlery was located) when a piece of parchment that looked like a bird cut his way.

'Did she send me a reply?'

Curious about what she had written, he started unfurling the piece of parchment. However, it looked like the origami bird had been glued in that form with a spell because he could not open it up. As he was tinkering with it and thinking about ways to see its contents without destroying it (Finite Incantatem had not worked when he tried it), a red beam of light shot at him out of nowhere. It was only thanks to his instincts and sense of danger that he had honed after more than a decade spent on the battlefield that he managed to dodge it.

Another red beam of light followed up but after throwing himself to the side, he turned around smoothly with his wand in his hand and easily batted away the Stunning Charm with the tip of his wand. A master-class deflection.

Hogwarts' corridors were rather spacious but it was still only one way from which the two spells could have come. Even if the attacker appeared to be invisible, the moment they cast the next spell, he would be able to see their position easily.

However, now that he had turned around, his assailant was no longer casting any spells either. It looked like they did not want to give away their position.

Harry Potter grinned. It was a smile that looked rather evil on a childish face like his. Still trying to play the part of an 11-year-old boy (and conveniently forgetting that even among 6th-year students very few were capable of deflecting spells properly) he cast a Windy Spell by saying its incantation out loud instead of casting it nonverbally:

"Ventus Duo!"

⁂

Fleur Delacour cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself and also hid under her invisibility cloak the very moment she left the Ravenclaw common room. Then, she had to start jogging in order to keep up with the origami bird. She was mentally preparing herself for the confrontation ahead. While she did not put in her eyes the skill with a wand of any student in the school she still decided to be cautious instead of overconfident.

'Whoever managed to find my secret is probably very intelligent. They wouldn't dare to blackmail a serial killer without having the means and the confidence to protect themselves. They should know that they could become my next target.'

She had no intention of actually killing the one that had discovered her. But she would definitely Obliviate them of any memory that was related to her.

Running after the origami bird on the stairs and corridors would have been strenuous for an ordinary girl of her age but she had not been idle all these years. She had trained not only her mind but her body as well. At the very least, running out of stamina would not happen any time soon. By the time she reached the top floor of the West Tower, the origami bird just arrived in front of its original sender too.

'A firstie? That's what I've been sick with worry about? A little boy?!'

She had never been a mild-tempered person. Right now she felt as if she had been played like a fiddle. She really wanted to shoot a few very painful Stinging Hexes at him just to get her annoyance out of her system. But her Occlumency proved its usefulness once again and she managed to get her ire under control. Sticking the tip of her wand out of her invisibility cloak, she cast a Stunning Charm.

The boy jumped and rolled to the side as if he had a third eye in the back of his head. If that had only surprised her, the way that he almost lazily deflected the second Stunner she had cast at him downright shocked her. Momentarily, she stopped casting any spells.

'Is that really a first-year student?!' was her first thought.

When she saw the mean and confident smirk that crept up on his face she got a bad feeling.

"Ventus Duo!"

It was an advanced, slightly more powerful version of the Windy Spell. However, what came out of the boy's wand was definitely not a Windy Spell!

⁂

"Ventus Duo!" Harry said the incantation out loud.

He had cast that charm in order to create a gale of wind that would throw off the invisibility cloak of the person hiding underneath it if they were not holding onto it properly. And even if they had a good grip on it, the fluctuations it would create in the air would be enough to show him their location.

That had been his intention but what had come out of his wand was not a gale of wind... ...it was a goddamned hurricane!

A vortex of wind burst forth like out of an air cannon. Everything on the corridor was swept away violently and the windows were shattered too by the powerful wind. When the effect of the spell ended, the entire corridor looked like a tornado had passed through it. Suits of armour, shards of glass and paintings from the walls were all jumbled together towards the end of the corridor in a messy pile of junk. Half buried beneath a suit of armour was also a blonde-haired girl with parts of her body covered by an invisibility cloak. She was unconscious and bleeding from a gash on her temple. (1)

Harry's jaw almost hit the floor.

"The hell just happened?!" he said in disbelief.

He knew he was a very powerful wizard even despite his young age but this outcome was downright ridiculous. He had wanted to create a mere gale of wind to make her cloak flutter, not to almost kill her and wreck an entire corridor with a thrice-damned tornado! It was just a bloody banal Windy Spell!

"How did it turn out like this?"

When he took another look at the destroyed corridor, realization dawned on him: Dumbledore was going to be there at any moment.

"Fuck!"

AN:

(1) her Disillusionment Charm was cancelled when she lost consciousness.

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Chapter 7 - Bellatrix Black

After his insightful conversation with Harry Potter, the old headmaster grabbed a handful of Floo powder and threw it into the fireplace. Kneeling in front of the fire, he called out:

"12 Grimmauld Place."

The fireplace that connected Grimmauld Place to the Floo Network was the one from the kitchen. What greeted his call was a House Elf.

"I wish to speak to Sirius Black," Dumbledore said.

"Master Sirius cannot talk now." the elf replied but Dumbledore was undaunted by his refusal.

"It is very important that I speak to him as soon as possible. It is in the interest of the House of Black as well."

The elf looked like he was in a dilemma and grabbed with his gnarly fingers at the few strands of hair poking from his mostly bald head.

"Master forbid Kreacher from disturbing him today. Master be fooling around with his mistresses every day but master should also care for the House of Black, no? Ahh, what should Kreacher do? This lazy master... ah, poor Kreacher!"

Dumbledore smiled in amusement at the elf's antics. Though slightly senile and often rude to those of less than noble origins, Kreacher was fiercely loyal to his master and the members of the House of Black. As proof of that, he started banging his head against a chair for having badmouthed his master.

"If Mr Black is indisposed at the moment, can you contact Miss Bellatrix for me? She's the one I actually have business with."

The elf's large ears flapped as he shook his head in negative.

"The house of Mistress Bellatrix be protected by strong spells. Even House Elves can't pass through."

"Figured so," Dumbledore said in slight disappointment. He stood up from the fireplace and terminated the Floo call.

Dumbledore knew that Bellatrix Black was an Unspeakable, working in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. Despite that it had been a time of peace in Great Britain for the past 10 years, her house was still unplottable. She had never removed the protections that she had installed during the war. Her home was still hidden by a Fidelius Charm and warded against Apparition, Portkeys, and even against House Eleves' means of transportation - she knew better than to underestimate the potential of these little creatures. Only her cousin, Sirius Black, and her older sister, Andromeda Tonks, knew how to contact her. As for calling Andromeda... ...Dumbledore preferred not to. The two of them were not on speaking terms.

There was only one other way to send a message to someone who lived in such a tightly protected and well-hidden place but it was considered rather rude. After all, said person had warded their home that heavily because they did not want to be disturbed. But he was left with no other option. Taking out his wand, he chanted:

"Expecto Patronum!"

⁂

Bellatrix had just woken up an hour before and now she was having breakfast - a rather sumptuous one for a single lady - while reading the newspaper with undisguised interest.

'That snivelling coward and his offspring got killed in one night? Whoever did them in should be given an Order of Merlin class III or II.' she thought and let out an unladylike snort. She hated Lucius Malfoy with a passion. Draco Malfoy being a carbon copy of his father had not won him any brownie points with her either, quite the opposite. She despised Malfoy and his spawn - it was because of Lucius Malfoy that she and her younger sister had broken off all contact more than 10 years ago.

Regarding the news of Cornelius Fudge's assassination, she did not show much of a reaction. She had never cared about the portly man and she could not care less about politics either. Bellatrix was content with studying the mysteries of magic and keeping herself busy with her job. She loved her work in the Department of Mysteries to the point that it did not even feel like work for her but more like leisure time.

It was while she was amusing herself with reading the various speculations made by reporters as to why had Lucius Malfoy killed the Minister (each one of them wilder and more outlandish than the other) that a silvery-white phantom in the shape of a phoenix flew through the wall of her kitchen and stopped in front of her. An old and wizened voice came from the Phoenix Patronus:

"Miss Black, it is of utmost importance that we met and talked. I have a proposition for you. Should you agree to meet me, you have my permission to Floo directly to Hogwarts in one hour."

Her good mood gave way to a feeling of annoyance when she heard that voice. She truly disliked being disturbed in her own home. Unfortunately, there were no wards - to her knowledge - capable of blocking out a pure spell such as the Patronus Charm.

⁂

One hour later, the fireplace in the headmaster's office at Hogwarts flared green and a woman stepped inside. Wearing black high heels with red soles, a long and elegant black dress and a chic black hat with a birdcage veil and a red rose - Bellatrix Black was the perfect example of how a sophisticated woman from a wealthy and noble wizarding family looked like.

"Miss Black, I'm overjoyed by your visit," Dumbledore said politely, attempting to ease the scowl on her face.

"Wish I could say the same. You know very well, Dumbledore, that I very much enjoy the privacy of my own home, especially in the morning. Whatever it is that you had called me on such short notice for, it better be crucial or I will be greatly displeased."

"Ever the thorny rose, aren't you?" he said with a chuckle and invited her to sit by pulling the chair in front of his desk for her, as a gentleman would.

Bellatrix nodded imperceptibly in appreciation at his show of good manners and smoothened her long black dress before sitting down. After he sat down behind the desk too, she raised a supple eyebrow at him as if to tell him to start talking. Dumbledore did not mind her rather brusque manner; her attitude was like a breath of fresh air compared to the majority of people who always had a fawning look on their faces whenever they interacted with him. His meetings with her, though rare, were always entertaining. Knowing for a fact that there was mutual respect between the two of them also cut the edge of her behaviour.

"I won't beat around the bush," he began. "I have discovered an exceptional young boy, one whose talent may even rival that of the likes of Voldemort."

Saying that, he pushed across the desk a few papers with Harry Potter's results in class a file with the professors' reviews of him. But the fact that he had gotten straight O on every single quiz in every class did not impress her.

"Be that as it may, my grades weren't much different from his when I was his age. Many other wizards and witches had similar results in their first year at Hogwarts too, especially those children coming from respectable pureblood families. As the saying goes, brilliant at 11, quite smart at 15, just average at 20."

"But that wasn't the case for you, was it? Miss future chief Unspeakable?"

Bellatrix revealed a small smile but she shook her head. "I know my worth. But I also know what would happen if I had to fight you or Voldemort head-on... to claim that an 11-year-old boy might be as talented as you, aren't you a bit presumptuous?"

"You can't ask a snake to fly, just like you can't ask a monkey to swim. Our talents lie in different fields. For example, I could never hope to match your expertise in warding and Dark Arts." Dumbledore said but Bellatrix just sniffed. She highly doubted that someone who had defeated the worst dark lord in history - Gellert Grindelwald - was not a master of Dark Arts too. One needed to know the Dark Arts in order to properly defend against them.

"In regards to young Mr Potter though, he learned how to cast a Disillusionment Charm after only 1 month of school, just so he could sneak out at night to fly on his broom. A boy that grew up in a Muggle orphanage, never having heard of magic before managed to learn an OWL-level charm all by himself, without a teacher's help. What does that tell you about his talent?"

Hearing Dumbledore's words made even the proud Bellatrix become silent. After a while, she said:

"Very well. Your high opinion of his potential is not unwarranted. But how is that related to me in any way?"

Dumbledore put his hands together on the desk and interlocked his fingers before saying: "It's not a secret that you've always wanted a child. Would you be willing to take care of him?"

Momentarily, she looked at him stunned, as if she could not believe what he had just asked her.

"You- want me to adopt him...?" she said slowly before bursting: "Surely you're jesting!"

Dumbledore winced at her sharp refusal but he could not say he had not expected it. Adopting a child was not something trivial. People would generally ponder carefully over such an important matter for at least half a year and make multiple visits, spending a lot of time with the child they wanted to adopt in order to make sure they were good for each other. It was not something that could be done willy nilly.

"You don't need to adopt him. Just letting him spend the summers with you would suffice. I wish he was given the resemblance of a family, to understand what it means for someone to love him."

Bellatrix appeared to be mollified by his explanation but she asked:

"What are you not telling me?"

For a moment, he looked like he was debating whether to tell her the truth or not.

"Both exceptionally brilliant. Both orphans. Both raised by Muggles, in an orphanage. Both showing a talent in magic that I have never seen in anyone else before... Harry Potter shows an uncanny similarity to Voldemort when he was young."

"Are you afraid of history repeating itself?" she asked.

Dumbledore seemed like he did not want to voice it out but his face told her the answer to her question.

"Unlike the young Voldemort, Harry has not shown any questionable tendencies at all. He's never been a bully and he's never fought against anyone. According to my sources, he's only been genial and helpful towards his peers. However, I do not want to leave it up to chance. Not again." After making a small pause, he continued: "My first thought was to send him to the Weasleys."

Bellatrix wrinkled her nose.

"Don't they already have 7 children? Everyone knows they're as poor as dirt. You were planning on giving them an additional burden?"

Dumbledore chuckled to hide his embarrassment.

"What's so funny?"

"That's exactly what Harry told me when I suggested him to go there," he explained.

"Quite the sensible and considerable young boy, isn't he?" she said in approval.

"Indeed. I dare say you will like him. He's rather quiet and polite, he will not inconvenience you. All I'm asking of you is to take him until January. I suspect that by that time the school year will resume. If you're against taking him once again in the summer, I won't insist anymore."

"Why me? Why not to one of those so-called 'light' families that worship the ground you walk on?" she finally asked.

He chuckled a bit at the expressions she used.

"He is distantly related to you through his father, James Potter-" Dumbledore began but she rolled her eyes at him and said: "Every pureblood family out here is related to the Blacks in one way or another."

"It's because I trust you, Bellatrix," Dumbledore admitted, his twinkling blue eyes peering deeply into her violet ones. "There is no-one I trust more than you to give young Harry an unbiased and correct education. If you decide to take him in I am also convinced that you will not neglect him."

Any further talk was interrupted, however, when loud and quick footsteps came from outside the office. A flush and out of breath Minerva McGonagall burst in through the door.

"Albus! There's been another attack!"

⁂

Harry's mind was racing. He had blown up the whole corridor.

'No doubt the portraits I've just wrecked have already told other portraits in the castle about what happened. Dumbledore will be here in a matter of minutes. The portraits saw me. I can't hide this.'

As difficult as the current situation seemed, it was nothing compared to some instances from the previous three wars he had gone through. He was a decisive man - the wars had made sure of that. Once he put his mind to something, he would not waste time second-guessing himself.

He ran towards the unconscious Fleur Delacour and pointed his wand at her.

"Enervate!"

The girl woke up with a start, her eyes wide in disbelief as the last scene she had seen was the vortex of air razing everything in its path. Her hastily cast Shielding Charm had not been enough to fully protect her. When she came about herself, the first thing she saw were two bright green eyes and a wand pointed at her head.

"Episkey!" she heard him mutter and a prickling sensation came from her temple where her cut flesh was mended. "Dumbledore is going to be here in less than two minutes. Take your invisibility cloak and run!"

The girl looked at him as if she thought he was messing with her.

"The portraits saw me, I can't sweep this under the rug. But they haven't seen you, you were hidden by your cloak. They only saw me getting attacked. Get lost already, damn it, you wanna get caught?"

Fleur scrambled up to her feet and covered herself with the invisibility cloak.

"Climb down two floors and then turn right. You will see a stone statue of a one-armed knight. Rub its elbow and a passage will open up for you in the wall. It will take you somewhere close to the Gryffindor Tower. Do that so you won't stumble upon the professors." he fired one instruction after another.

"We'll talk on the train." Fleur said and, before turning to leave, she added: "Thank you."

Then, she ran away. She recognized a dangerous and urgent situation when she saw one. There was no time for an explanation as to why he was suddenly helping her. While she was still confused and wary of him, she would not look at a gift horse in the mouth.

After the French girl disappeared, Harry sat down on the floor, with his back against the wall of the corridor and schooled his face into a distraught expression.

'I better get a bloody Oscar when this shite is over.'

Barely five minutes later, four people rushed into the devasted corridor. Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick gasped in horror when they saw the scene of destruction in front of them and the downed body of Harry Potter. Flashbacks of Draco Malfoy lying in a pool of his blood played at the front of their minds. Strangled with emotion, they sprinted towards the boy. Albus Dumbledore and Bellatrix Black were not far behind then, also running after them but not quite as fast - Dumbledore due to his old age and Bellatrix due to her 3 inch tall high heels.

All four of them released a collective sigh of relief when they heard Harry speak in a weak and scared voice.

"Professors?"

"Mr Potter! What happened here? Are you alright?" McGonagall asked in a voice tinged with panic as she knelt right next to him.

"Minerva, let the boy breathe, you're not doing him any good by acting like that," Dumbledore said and Professor Flitwick took the initiative to take the emotional woman aside.

"Can you talk to us about what happened? Don't worry, now that we are here, you are safe. No one can hurt you." Dumbledore said calmly.

Harry swallowed a node in his throat before saying:

"I-, I don't know. I was going to the Owlery to tell Hedwig that we're leaving when someone suddenly attacked me from behind."

"Did you see who it was?"

Harry shook his head.

"They were invisible. A Disilussionment Charm I think but better than mine."

That got raised eyebrows from the other two professors there but it was not the right time to discuss that at the moment.

"I'm lucky they missed the first spell. It was a red one, I don't know what it was. I hid behind a suit of armour while they fired spells at me continuously."

"Was the corridor destroyed by your attacker?" Dumbledore asked, seemingly not suspecting the veracity of his words.

Harry purposely winced and he did not even have to fake it.

"I did it."

Now it was Bellatrix's time to look at him stunned too, not just the two professors.

"I cast the advanced Windy Spell. I wanted to make him or her stumble so I could get some time to run away. I didn't think it would blow up everything. I'm sorry."

None of the adults there could bring themselves to blame him for the propriety damage that he had caused. His scrawny body huddled up against the wall and still clutching his wand in fear had filled them with feelings of pity. In the first place, the professors were enormously glad that he had not ended up dying just like Draco Malfoy the evening before.

"As I told you, you have nothing to worry about," Dumbledore said kindly and patted him on the shoulder once. "Fortunately, we have magic. Everything can be fixed as long as it's still here. All that matters is that you are safe."

To prove what he said, he waved his wand and the shards of glass magically returned to their place and were moulded back together in one piece, the windows looking as good as new. The jumbled up paintings and armour suits also flew back to their respective places. In no time, the entire corridor returned to its previous pristine appearance.

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AN: Another treat for you, enjoy!

Chapter 8 - Harry and Fleur

Four years passed since the Weasley family's assassination at the hands of Voldemort and his followers. Gone were his exhausting but happy days as a professional Quidditch player. Gone were the days when he had actually started to enjoy his fame as a Quidditch superstar. There was only a grim and gritty man left, a fierce and merciless Hit-Wizard with dozens of kills on his name. Just a man obsessed with vengeance.

Four years of spearheading a bitter war between the Ministry of Magic and the Death Eaters... Four years of chasing after an elusive Dark Lord that always ran away at the mere sight of him... He could not understand why the Dark Lord was avoiding him like the plague. There were rumours that Voldemort was afraid of him but Harry was not that full of himself as to believe them. Nevertheless, emboldened by the Dark Lord avoidance of a head-on confrontation against him, Harry threw himself against his followers even more viciously than before. He lost count of how many Death Eaters had fallen under his wand.

But after four years, he had finally managed to corner Voldemort. With spells and jinxes that had been cast in place beforehand by a capable squad of Aurors, the Dark Lord was unable to Apparte or portkey himself away.

They fought to the death - Harry Potter, Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, and Kingsley Shacklebolt against Voldemort. There were no more magical protections, no secret gimmicks, no old magics cast by a dying mother to give him an unfair advantage. There were no more rebellious wands against Voldemort to offer Harry victory on a platter like before either. It was a pure, all-out magical battle between four of the most skilled wand users in Great Britain and Voldemort, one of the most terrible Dark Lords in modern history.

It was then that Harry truly realized the gulf between the level of knowledge and skill he possessed and Voldemort. Though outnumbered 4 to 1 by four admittedly very powerful and capable wizards, Voldemort was the one that had held the initiative throughout most of the duel. A Duelling Champion, a Transfiguration Mistress, the strongest ex-Auror since Alastor Moody's death (Kingsley), and a magically powerful and skilled hit-wizard (Harry Potter), all four of them had been forced on the backfoot by the Dark Lord.

They had clutched the victory in the end, only by chance, thanks to Kingsley who had cast an overpowered version of the Lumos Charm and momentarily blinded Voldemort (his comrades had been signalled beforehand to close their eyes).

"I won...but at what cost?" came a hoarse voice through his cracked lips.

It was a pyrrhic victory. There was not one bit left of the tiny Charms Professor as he had been turned into ash by Voldemort's skilful use of Fiendfyre at the start of the fight, a Killing Curse impacted Kingsley the very moment that Voldemort recovered his sight from the blinding Lumos spell while Minerva McGonagall died a painful death, vomiting her innards due to a dark curse from Voldemort.

Harry Potter himself had not escaped unscathed. Just as his Gouging Charm (a spell normally used for digging into rocks and cliffs) had blasted Voldemort's entire torso to bits, the Dark Lord fired a dark cutting curse, at the very last second. Harry's wand arm, his right arm, fell on the ground cut from the shoulder. The Elder Wand was still clutched in the rigid grip of his severed limb, on the floor. Even magic was unable to fix the damage caused by dark curses. He would remain a one-armed cripple for the rest of his life.

Although they won - Voldemort died for the third time - he could not find an ounce of joy in himself. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick and the ex-Auror and Minister of Magic Kingsley died just to give him an opening to capitalize on. He had lost an arm too and many other selfless wizards and witches had lost their lives during the war, fighting for the good cause, against the Dark Lord's tyranny. Furthermore, adding insult to injury, Harry knew that it was far from over. He knew that Voldemort would be back. He had seen his wraith rising from his destroyed body and he had heard his maniacal laughter and filled with rage words:

"I will be back, Harry Potter!"

"Wait for me! I will be back and I will take away everything from you once more!"

⁂

"I should've asked for a Dreamless Sleeping Potion." Harry groaned when he was jolted awake at the end of his nightmare. Involuntarily, his left hand came up to feel up his right shoulder and arm, as if to make sure it was still there.

After 'rescuing' him from the destroyed corridor of the West Tower, the professors escorted Harry to the Hospital Wing. Once she made sure he was unharmed, Madam Pomfrey gave him a simple Sleeping Draught rather than a Dreamless Sleeping Potion because the latter induced a much longer sleep (something that Harry could not afford at the moment seeing as there were only a few hours left until the Express left from Hogsmeade).

By the time he woke up, it was already lunchtime. With Madam Pomfrey's permission, he was discharged and went to have lunch. When he entered through the large doors of the Great Hall, a feeling of deja vu washed over him.

'It's like I'm the Boy-Who-Lived all over again.'

With nothing else to do for the rest of their eternal existence, the ghosts and the portraits in the castle were the biggest gossipers Hogwarts had ever seen. Only a few hours from the 'attack on the West Tower' the entire school had become aware of what had transpired: that someone had attacked Harry Potter and that he had managed to survive until Dumbledore and the rest of the professors came to his rescue.

Not three seconds after he sat at the Ravenclaw table, three boys jumped at him, awe written all over their faces.

"Blimey, Harry! You're a hero!"

"They say you blew up an entire corridor!"

"Peeves swore he saw how you killed your attacker with your bare hands!"

Terry, Anthony, and Michael were exuberant. The rest of the students at Ravenclaw table were also ogling at him without even trying to be discreet about it. Harry managed to smile at them but he was not in the mood to entertain their curiosity. All of a sudden, however, the three misfits became silent. When he looked up from his plate to see what was the reason they suddenly shut up (it was completely unlike them), he was greeted by the clearest and bluest pair of eyes he had ever seen. Fleur Delacour had taken her plate and cutlery in her hands from her previous seat and came to sit right next to him.

Terry and Anthony stared mouth agape, like dead fish. Michael looked at him with a mixture of amazement and envy on his face.

"Dayum, mate, how did you land her of all the people?" Terry whispered but not quietly enough seeing the withering glare Fleur threw at him.

When the three boys voluntarily made themselves scarce, Harry looked at her strangely.

"What's with you? What are you doing here? I thought we were going to talk on the train."

"Just making sure you won't disappear on me," she said in a matter-of-fact kind of voice.

He snorted. To think that someone who had battled the worst Dark Lord in history his entire life would run away from a little witch was laughable.

"Are you going to follow me to the toilet too?"

"Of course."

"You know that if I wanted to rat you out you'd already be on your way to Azkaban by now, right?"

At his words, she looked around quickly, afraid that someone had heard what he said. She glared at him furiously, not knowing that Harry had already cast a nonverbal Muffliato on themselves. The ones around them could only hear some muffled voices, they were unable to understand what they were talking about.

"What are you playing at?" she hissed at him.

He did not reply right away, busying himself with cutting his piece of steak with his knife and fork in a manner unlike that of someone his age.

"Answer me!" she demanded and grabbed him by the forearm.

"I'm not playing at anything," he said eventually.

"You expect me to believe that? Why dangle the information in front of me if not to ask for something in return?"

He sighed and put his knife and fork down.

"Look, I only had some harmless fun in mind when I sent you that note. I didn't expect you to find me right away."

"HARMLESS FUN?!" she shouted at him and grabbed him from the collar of his shirt. It was only thanks to the Muffliato that he had cast earlier that her shout did not make dozens of heads turn to them. She felt like strangling him right then and there. So many sleepless nights spent planning, so much stress and insomnia, so much fear and incertitude... Yet there he was, having some 'harmless fun' at her expense.

⁂ Other students' POV ⁂

"Wow, she really is chewing him out, no joke."

"She must've been worried sick about him when she heard he almost got killed."

"Merlin, why don't I have a fit babe worry about me like that too?"

"How enviable!"

"Lucky sod, how did he land someone like her? She's waaay out of his league!"

"Wait, when did they even get that close? I thought she was single!"

"Damned nerds. Who cares about them."

⁂

In reality, worry and concern for Harry were far from what Fleur felt at that moment. She was trembling with anger.

"I think you should let go of me." Harry whispered conspiratorily after they heard a shout of "NOW KISS!" from one of the first-year boys at the table. "These guys think we're having a lovers' quarrel or something."

Her pale face flushed briefly and pushed him away as she let go of him.

"As if!" she scoffed. "You're just 11, three years younger than me! What would I do with a pipsqueak like you?"

"Don't worry, I share your feelings. You're not exactly the type of girl I'd go for either."

If the French girl had been a dragon, probably there would have been fire coming out of her nostrils when she heard his words. She looked positively murderous.

"Oh come on, turn into a big and fugly bird already!" he said and sniggered.

Fleur snapped her head back at him in shock, her anger forgotten for now and replaced by renewed feelings of wariness and anxiety.

"You know even this too?!"

She thought that cornering him in the middle of the Great Hall and pressuring him like that would serve to intimidate him but the reality was completely different. She was like a lamb that had delivered itself straight into the jaws of the lion. He seemed to know everything about her. And she knew nothing about him. She was so on edge that she lost her appetite completely. She was still lost in thought by the time Harry finished eating and stood up from his seat.

"Talk to you on the train," he said and patted her on the head before leaving the Great Hall with a swagger in his step.

A boy three years younger than her was treating her as if she was some sort of lost little girl... Fleur was left in a daze. Most of the students at the Ravenclaw table were also flummoxed by the scene that had just happened between them.

⁂

"You can see them too?" Fleur asked when she saw Harry watching intently the normally invisible creatures that were pulling the carriages towards Hogsmeade.

"I do," he said quietly, not teasing her as he did in the Great Hall.

The other two students that shared the same carriage as them were looking at each other with a strange expression on their faces.

"You mean something is pulling the carriage? I thought they were just charmed to walk by themselves." one of them said.

"Non. They are pulled by a pair of Thestrals. Winged, skinny, and ugly black 'orses. They are invisible to people that 'ave not witnessed and understood death." Fleur explained.

"I think they are beautiful," Harry muttered.

The rest of the trip was spent in silence. When the carriage finally reached Hogsmeade, the two students quickly disappeared. The previous conversation had creeped them out and they did not want to spend a second more than necessary with Harry and Fleur.

⁂

With only the two of them in a compartment, Harry and Fleur sat across each other silently for a while. Harry was watching his fellow students bidding their friends goodbye and making promises to keep in touch and write each other letters. As for Fleur, she was staring at his face.

'Who is this boy?' Fleur asked herself, a frown marring her beautiful face. 'I didn't study at Hogwarts before but if someone like him existed the first time around, Neville and the Weasleys wouldn't have spoken of Hermione as the brightest in her year because this boy is in a different league altogether. It's not possible for someone like him to have gone under the radar for six years straight.'

Eventually, a loud whistle was heard and the train started moving.

"Well, what did you want us to talk about?" Harry broke the ice between them and said.

Fleur continued studying his face for a few seconds before replying: "Why didn't you turn me in to Dumbledore? You would 'ave been a 'ero. Maybe you'd even receive an Order of Merlin for catching the killer of the Minister of Magic."

"Now why would I do that? If I'm ever gonna get famous for something, I wanna be famous because of my talent in Quidditch," he said lightly.

"You don't get to joke! Not now!" she suddenly yelled at him, all the frustration she had accumulated that day blowing up at that moment. "Tell me what do you want from me!" she spat, her wand pointed straight at his face.

"I told you, I don't need anything from you. I made a bad joke, at the wrong moment. Add to that a freak accident with a Windy Spell and now here we are." he said calmly.

Fleur Delacour was seething inside but she felt helpless about how to deal with the boy in front of her. Why was he so good at pushing all the wrong buttons and pissing her off? At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to see that in-control and confident attitude of his break. He was eleven for Merlin's sake, a boy his age was not supposed to be so mature! But she did not want to hurt him either, or worse, kill him. As far as she knew, he was innocent, both in the present and in the future. She would never kill an innocent person.

"I killed four people. Why are you not scared of me? Why aren't you afraid? I'm not above killing even children like you." she said almost in a whisper.

Harry sighed at her words. If there was anyone who understood what it meant to carry the weight on the world on his shoulders, it was him. He understood her better than anyone else.

"Lucius Malfoy - a former Death Eater, guilty of murder, arson, torture with the Cruciatus Curse, bribery, and blackmail. He claimed that he was Imperiused and got away scot-free. Severus Snape - Death Eater scum that caused the deaths of my parents. Snivelling piece of shit wormed his way into Dumbledore's graces and managed to somehow fool the old man into thinking that he was actually working for him as a spy, not the other way around." (1)

"Draco Malfoy, a miniature version of his scumbag father. Spewing racial slurs and bullying everyone that as much as looked at him the wrong way. Pretty sure he wouldn't turn any different from his cunt of a father after a few years. And Cornelius Fudge - a greedy and corrupt politician at the beck and call of Lucius Malfoy. Now you tell me, why should I be afraid of you when you've only been clearing out the trash so far? I don't fit the pattern of your victims."

Fleur was dead silent, looking as if she was experiencing great inner turmoil. She had never imagined even in her dreams that there would be someone who would accept what she was doing and even view it in a good light. Someone that would not look at her like she was a monster. Momentarily, she was overwhelmed.

"As I told you, I want nothing from you. It was just a string of unfortunate incidents: a bad joke at the wrong time and a freak accident... go ahead and Obliviate me, I won't resist. Not like it helps me with anything to know about your plans anyway." he said and put his wand on the small table in front of them, under the window between their seats.

Not for the first time that day, Fleur was shocked by him. To say that Obliviating him had never crossed her mind would be a lie. It was what she had been secretly planning to do too.

However, she found herself inexplicably hesitating.

She had just found someone who knew who she was, who knew what she was, and looked like he could not care less. He knew something about her that she had not been able to tell anyone else, not even her parents. It did not make sense to her why an 11-year-old boy knew so much about her but she knew that she should be glad at the chance of putting him behind her and continue with her plans unhindered. However... it was probably her only chance at ever making a real friend in her current life. Would she ever find someone like that again?

Nonetheless, eventually, her mind won the battle against her heart. She would put her loneliness and need for companionship aside. The fewer people knew a secret, the more secure it was.

'Who am I kidding? There is no space for friendship or love in this life. Not while I still plan on following this path.'

She was going to stop at nothing from preventing the future of her past. Friendship, love, joy, happiness... they would have to wait for when everything was over. If she was still alive at that time, only then would she allow herself to pursue them.

Her hand was shaking when she raised her wand and pointed it at his forehead.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He just nodded in understanding. "Don't worry. You do what you gotta do."

His readiness to comply only made her hesitate more. She bit her lower lip as a last-second indecisiveness almost swayed her from going through with her decision. But, in the end, her face took on a calm expression as she occluded her unnecessary feelings and thoughts away.

"Obliviate!"

⁂

Only moments after she cast the Memory Charm on Harry, Fleur Delacour grabbed her luggage and quickly left his compartment. He noticed that her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. He sighed. He felt bad and regretful for the stress that he had carelessly caused the girl while she had been carrying such a heavy burden on her shoulders.

'Is she from this world's future? It would make sense because she didn't recognize me until the end... if that's the case, what happened to my previous self in this world? Did this world's true Harry Potter really die when he fell from the second floor and cracked his head? To die in such a mundane way...sheesh.'

The Memory Charm that Fleur had cast on him had had absolutely no effect on him. It was not that she had botched the spell or due to her lack of skill. No, it was that depending on one's level of skill in Occlumency, they could weaken or even completely negate the effects of spells and potions that altered the mind. That is how Death Eaters like Lucius Malfoy could get away with everything they had done when things like Veritaserum existed: an accomplished Occlumens could ignore the effects of the Serum of Truth. It was the same when it came to Memory Charms and even Love Potions too: an accomplished Occlumens could become completely immune to them. As for whether the Imperius Curse could be resisted by the masters of Occlumency or not, that was a controversial topic where the Wizarding World had conveniently never reached a consensus.

With that being said, now Fleur believed that Harry had forgotten everything about her so he achieved his purpose: he had given her back her sense of security, making her think that nobody knew her secret and he had also managed to distance himself from her, avoiding the situation where he would get pulled into the war and all the mess that was about to come if he was close to her.

"I'll just go on with my life as I have decided. In this life, I'm just Harry. The upcoming war is Neville's cross to bear." he said out loud as if to convince himself.

But he grimaced in the next moment. The fact that Fleur Delcour had come back from this world's future and that she was on a bloody quest to kill all the future Death Eaters before Voldemort's actual return was proof enough that something had gone terribly wrong with the future of this world.

'Did Neville fail to kill Voldemort in the future? Or maybe he never found out about the Horcrux in his head? And what happened to Fleur? Was she always a cold-blooded killer in this world? If not, what happened to twist her into what she had become?'

He spent the entire trip back to London, several good hours, thinking about this world's future and about Fleur too. The more he thought about it, the more he realized, much to his ire, that he might not be able to stay away from the war despite that he wanted nothing to do with it.

'Should I just leave Great Britain?'

It was the most logical course of action. However, when the time came and the war started, would he really be able to just sit on the sidelines and watch indifferently how the alternate versions of the people he used to love died helplessly? Would he be able to watch the alternate version of his most faithful friend, Hermione, get tortured and killed? Or the Weasleys, or Tonks, or Remus, Or Sirius?

'They're not the same people that I used to know.' he told himself stubbornly.

He was too tired. He could not imagine going through something similar to his past life all over again. All he wanted was to have a normal life, like everyone else. No more wars, no more killings. There was another Chosen One to take care of things over here.

⁂

Harry was distracted from his thoughts when the train stopped at King's Cross. Although there were hundreds of parents waiting on the platform for their children, Harry spotted Bellatrix Black in the crowd right away. She was hardly a forgettable figure. She was wearing a knee-length black overcoat, stylish high-heeled leather ankle boots, and a rather elegant black bowler hat with a black rose on its side, her long and thick black hair falling in waves over her back and reaching her waist.

'Merlin, she's beautiful.' was his honest thought.

She was completely different from the gaunt and sickly woman with rotten teeth and messy and dirty grey hair in his past life. Classy, elegant, sophisticated...beautiful. If he could not find any interest in the girls at Hogwarts as they were just children in his eyes, Bellatrix Black was another matter altogether. When he stepped into the Veil in his past life, he had been in his 40s. Bellatrix happened to be around that age too in the present (though she looked younger due to her good genes and due to being a witch).

Mixed feelings appeared in his heart.

'In my world, she was a fanatical Death Eater. She killed Sirius, Dobby, and tortured Hermione too. But in this world, she seems to be one of Dumbledore's most trusted friends, enough that he's okay with her raising me. I have to live with this person from now on.'

The 'attack' on him had given Dumbledore the perfect excuse to all but force him into accepting his suggestion to live with a magical guardian that would protect him, no longer allowing him one week to reconsider his offer.

Harry was reminded almost on a weekly basis just how different this world was from his own. In spite of his thoughts, he smiled slightly as he got down from the train. But just as he was about to strain himself with pulling his heavy trunk, the woman in question had already reached his side and pointed with his wand at it, making it levitate.

"Hello, Miss Black. Thank you for taking me in." Harry greeted her and said politely.

Bellatrix gave him a warm smile and patted his head.

"Call me Bella, no need to be that formal with me from now on."

"Is that really ok?"

"Of course it is, dear. Or am I perhaps too old?" she said in mock annoyance and put her hands on her hips.

Feeling a bit mischievous, he made use of the supposed innocence of a child as he said:

"No, I think you are very beautiful."

"Oh my, what a charmer!" Bellatrix covered her mouth and giggled. Harry could even see a tint of pink in her pale white cheeks. She looked especially charming.

He looked at her in surprise when she grabbed his hand in hers and started pulling him gently after her to get out of the crowd, his large trunk following them faithfully from behind. They had only just met (that morning at Hogwarts not counting seeing as they had not talked) and Harry was already surprised at how warm and genial she seemed to be. He could find nothing in common between her and the woman he used to know.

Getting to know this world's Bellatrix and living with her was going to be...interesting. Very interesting.

AN: If it feels like Harry's thoughts about him not getting involved in the war are getting repetitive, I'm doing it on purpose. It's showing his inner struggle with his decision and his attempt at convincing himself that whatever happens, it's none of his business. However, whether he will be successful in staying away from the war or not, that remains to be seen.

(1) As the summary of the story says, Harry never got to see Snape's memories, that's why he is so biased against him.

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Back? Not Really by grumpywolf

AN: Enjoy!

Chapter 9 - Living with Bellatrix

Walking on the narrow cobblestone streets surrounded by two to four floors tall old buildings made of bricks, Harry felt as if he had travelled a century back in time. It was an old neighbourhood inspiring a sort of vintage classiness. Dean Village district of Edinburgh was exactly the kind of place where Harry imagined that someone like Bellatrix Black would live: old, quiet, quaint.

"Read this," she said and handed him over a small piece of paper.

She looked at him with eagerness, anticipating the awe on his face after witnessing the effects of the Fidelius Charm for the first time.

"Wow...!"

Bellatrix laughed in delight, very satisfied with his reaction. However, Harry's amazement was directed not at the fact that a house with its own courtyard had sprouted seemingly out of nowhere but at the building itself.

"A castle?! Miss Black, you must be filthy rich!" he exclaimed, trying to emulate an ordinary boy of his age.

"It's Bella to you, not 'Miss Black'. Don't make me twist your ears." she chided him. "But yes, my family has always been wealthy. This mansion was left to me by my late aunt Cassiopeia."

It was not an exceedingly large building as it had only two floors (the ground floor included) but its French gothic architecture made it give off an imposing feeling. A washed-off brick facade, tall and narrow windows, pointed arches above entrance doors and a tall roof as well. To a young boy, it looked almost like a small castle. (1)

"Well then, go on, go on." she encouraged him and pushed him from behind.

When he made the first step through the large gothic wrought iron gates into the courtyard, he could clearly sense the numerous warding spells that had been placed on the propriety.

'With how heavily warded this place is I think even someone like Dumbledore would not dare step in lightly.' he mused. 'Is this Bellatrix paranoid? No normal people would make a fortress out of their home.'

He realized that he knew nothing about this version of Bellatrix. What made her the person she was nowadays? How come she had become one of Dumbledore's trusted friends? How was she not crazy like in his previous world? Why was her name 'Black' instead of 'Lestrange', did she never marry?

"Give me your wand for a moment please."

Harry involuntarily looked at her sharply and took a step away from her. He realized that he made a mistake by overreacting but it was a done deal. Bellatrix studied him carefully and the expression on her face softened.

"You have nothing to worry about, dear," she said in a gentle voice. "Nobody will harm you here. My home is the safest place in Europe. Nothing short of a nuke would threaten this place. I only need your wand to key you into the wards."

She thought that the reason for his jumpiness was the attack on his person earlier that morning. She had no way of knowing that Harry was still rather vexed at the thought that he was going to live with an alternate version of the woman who had murdered his godfather. But then again, the other Bellatrix would probably not know what a 'nuke' was. Nor would she speak to him in such a gentle voice. But when he handed her his fir wand, Bellatrix let out a yelp of pain and dropped it on the floor.

"This nasty little thing!" she cussed. "Looks like your wand took quite the liking to you. Wouldn't let me even hold it, let alone cast any spells with it."

She winced as another shock travelled through her arm when she picked up the wand again but she withstood the pricking sensation and quickly muttered a few incantations. She looked relieved when she was finally done with it and gave it back to him.

A flood of warmth coursed through his body when the wand came back into his possession, not unlike the first time when he bought it from Ollivander's shop.

⁂

The interior of the house reminded Harry a bit of Grimmauld Place but nowhere near as gloomy or as dank. If anything, it was rather similar to the Slytherin common room with its old, vintage furniture. However, it was not dark, more than enough light came through the tall windows and from the numerous gas lamps on the wall and chandeliers hanging from the tall ceiling.

Bellatrix eagerly gave him a tour of the house. Although he was not a big fan of this old style - especially since he was coming from a world 30 years in the future - he could recognize high quality and taste when he saw it. The Blackthorn (Belatrix's house) looked like what Grimmauld Place could have looked like without decapitated heads of House Elves, mold, dankness, gloom, and darkness.

However, when she opened the door to his bedroom, Harry was caught completely off-guard by the contrast between how his room looked and the rest of the house. Blue wallpaper on the walls, a large window with bronze curtains, a dark blue carpet on the wooden floor, and a rather large bed with dark blue canopies. To the right of the bedroom, there was a brown wardrobe with dark blue edges and a desk with a lamp and a chair with blue cushions on the left.

"You made this for me today?" he said visibly surprised.

"Do you like it?" she asked with a smile.

If someone told Harry that Bellatrix had been initially reluctant to take him in, he would not believe them. She had prepared a room just for him. She had changed the furniture, the curtains, the wallpaper and decorated the entire room in the colours of the Ravenclaw House - all of that in less than a day!

"It's brilliant. I love it, thank you!" he said sincerely. For her to put in so much effort for his sake, a stranger, Harry could not help but be moved by her dedication.

"I'm relieved that you like it," she said half-serious half-joking. "It's the first time I decorated a room for a boy your age, I wasn't sure if an old woman like me would get it right. Alright, you can go ahead and take a shower and get changed. Once you're ready, come to the kitchen for dinner."

When she left the room and closed the door after her, Harry let himself fall on the bed on his back and groaned tiredly. Maybe because of his young and tender body, or maybe because of all the excitement that day and because of the nightmare, Harry was both physically and mentally exhausted.

Half an hour later, Bellatrix came to check up on him and knocked on his door. Not receiving an answer, she entered his room. Her sharp face became gentler at the sight of the scrawny boy deeply asleep. He had not even taken off his glasses.

She sat at the edge of the bed and took off his glasses and put them on the nightstand next to the bed. She also untied his shoes and took them off. Then, she levitated him briefly with her wand, just enough to pull the covers from underneath his body. Lastly, she covered him with the blanket, tucking him in.

Bellatrix had been reticent when she heard Dumbledore's proposition but after meeting the boy, she found herself wanting to protect him. The pitiful sight of him after he had been attacked coupled with the fact that he was an orphan sparked a feeling of sympathy for him in her. The fact that a child as young as him was also so polite and considerate was like icing on the cake. She raised her hand and brushed his tender cheek gently. Thoughts of adoption were too early and may never happen but she resolved herself to at least take care of this boy as well as she could.

⁂

Living together with Bellatrix Black had been much more relaxing than Harry had initially thought. A female House Elf named Niki took care of all the chores and cooking around the house and Bellatrix herself was working six days a week, leaving for her job at 9 in the morning and returning at 5 in the evening, like clockwork. However, Bellatrix made time every day one hour to talk with him. It had been very awkward for Harry when she had tried to make small talk with him for the first time. Mentally, they were of the same age but Harry had to pretend that he was 11. It was hard for them to find a common ground. However, when Harry expressed his interest in warding techniques and spells - as a proper nerd would - their conversations significantly improved.

"Playing fetch with your owl again? Only you'd teach your owl such weird tricks." Bellatrix's teasing voice came from behind, startling the boy and the owl who had been playing together.

"It's not fetch, it's hunting! She's not a dog, Hedwig is much smarter!" he retorted and the owl hooted at her too seemingly offended.

It was December. After living together for two months, Harry and Bellatrix had gotten much more familiar and comfortable around each other.

She smiled as she watched how Harry was using his wand to levitate a fluorescent ball of fabric at high speeds through the air and the snowy owl did her best to catch it. When he abruptly changed the flight course of the ball to the opposite direction, Hedwig barked at him irritated. His laughter made her even angrier and the owl dived down towards him. Harry burst into delighted laughter, just like any other eleven-year-old boy, as he started running away from the owl who was trying to hunt him now instead of the ball. Hedwig always got angry when they played this game and he changed the flight pattern of the ball unnaturally, in a way that other birds would be unable to replicate in reality.

Soon, Harry stumbled and fell in the snow and had to curl up to protect himself when Hedwig landed on him and started nipping at every inch of exposed skin that his thick winter clothes left. But he suddenly turned around and caught the owl in his arms and pushed her into the snow with him too.

"Haha, caught you!" he laughed while Hedwig flapped her wings and struggled to escape.

After teasing her a bit more, he let her go and Hedwig flew away from him in an instant. She landed on a nearby tree and started preening her feathers and shake herself to throw off all the snow on her.

Had he been in his original body, with his mental age, Harry would never engage in such childish plays with an owl. But he had missed Hedwig a lot after how she had died to save him from Voldemort's Killing Curse. He loved the owl to death. Furthermore, being in the body of an 11-year-old boy had influenced his behaviour significantly. His Occlumency was not quite as good as it had once been due to all the hormones going wild during puberty - hence also the reason why he occasionally had dreams of his past life - and he felt more mischievous than he had ever felt in the past, even as a child. No Voldemort to weigh on his mind this time around, no Dursleys and no hunger, no deadly threats to his life, and no prophecy pressuring him. For the first time in his life, he felt free, with no care in the world. Nowadays he found joy even in the smallest things in his everyday life: like playing with his owl, or eating a delicious pie, or flying on his broom, or even listening to some piano music played by Bellatrix once in a while. He was content.

When Bellatrix came to pull him up to his feet, Harry grinned evilly. An unexpected Trip Jinx made the elegantly dressed woman all of a sudden fall face-first on the ground.

"Bwahaha!"

Lifting herself up, her hat had fallen off her head and there was snow all over her face, head and neck.

"You cheeky bugger, you'll pay for this!" she yelled, even more irritated at how he was laughing his ass off at her rather than at the fact that she got pranked.

Harry rolled aside and jumped up to his feet when a snowball even larger than his own body had almost buried him beneath, courtesy to a flick of Bellatrix's wand.

"To slow! Age catching up with you, auntie?" he said teasingly, wand ready in his hand too.

"Auntie? You call this drop-dead gorgeous lady an auntie? You little runt!" she said and all the snow six feet around her was levitated in the air above her.

There was no way to outrun or dodge something like that.

"Partis Temporum!" he shouted and the large mass of snow flying at him was parted in two as if cut by the slash of a sword.

"I see, ickle baby Potter knows how to play," she said in a baby voice to mock him.

When he had first heard her talk like that to him about a month ago he had been creeped out, remembering the scene from the Ministry from 30 years before but now it had become a daily routine for them to poke fun at the other's age. He was laughing at her that she was old (she was in her 40s) and she was laughing at him that he was a little runt and using a mock baby voice to annoy him.

"The future is now, old hag. Watch and learn!"

With a swish of his wand, 10 snowballs levitated from the blanket of snow on the ground and he started shooting them at her in quick succession, like bullets, not allowing her to drop her Shielding Charm and retaliate.

Half an hour later, wet, tired, and with their sides hurting from too much laughter, the boy and the woman finally stopped their snowball fight and went inside. A few minutes later, wearing fresh, dry clothes the two of them were nursing mugs of hot chocolate in front of the fireplace in the living room, basking in its warmth as they sat huddled together on the sofa. Curiously enough, Hedwig was also inside, nestled on a perch that Bellatrix had specifically ordered for her and installed it in front of the fireplace.

Due to his mental age, Harry would never be able to call Bellatrix 'mum' but he would be lying to himself if he said she had not grown on him during the past two months. It was hard not to start liking her when he could see how much effort she was putting into accomodating his needs and taking care of him. Despite her job, she took time every day to spend with him. Sometimes they were chatting, sometimes she took him to Scottish Highlands to fly on his broom, away from Muggles, while other times she would play the piano for him. Furthermore, she also insisted that he did not spend even one knut from his own money but ask her to buy for him anything he might need. Frankly, he did not really understand why she was dedicated to him.

Bellatrix had won Harry over completely. It's because of that that when she put her arm around his back and embraced him on the sofa at that moment that he did not recoil at her physical intimacy. Inwardly, Bellatrix felt like jumping with joy. It was the first time that she had initiated a hug and she was beyond glad that he had not rejected her gesture of affection. Ever since she had taken him in, she had noticed that there was a kind of wall around him. It was not until that wall was melted that she was finally able to close the gap between the two of them.

Harry involuntarily sighed and slightly leaned in the embrace of the physically older woman. He had not been close like that to someone in many, many years.

'Strange how life works. To think that Bellatrix of all people would be the first after all these years...'

But that moment did not last for too long. After a while, Bellatrix removed her arm from around his back and sat up from the sofa.

"I'm going to play the piano. Would you like to listen?" she asked.

There was something in her voice, a sort of vulnerability that Harry had not heard from her until then.

"Of course," he replied and followed her into an adjacent room.

Harry remembered that even at Grimmauld Place there had been a piano. From Bellatrix's words, it seemed like many among the Blacks were taught how to play the piano when they were young. It was a tradition, one which Bellatrix did not dislike; quite the opposite.

The room where Bellatrix played the piano was sound-proof (a measure that she had added right before she had taken Harry in) and rather spacious as well. There were other pieces of furniture and some other musical instruments too but one's eyes would immediately be attracted by the elegant and beautiful grand piano when they first entered the room.

Bellatrix sat on the piano stool and lifted the fallboard. She closed her eyes for a few moments to concentrate and then her long and pale white fingers started dancing on the keyboard. Harry recognized the song right away - it was one of Bellatrix's favourites because she played it very often. It was a slow melody, melancholic even. It was Tchaikovsky's Valse Sentimentale.

Harry had never been a big fan of music but ever since he started living with Bellatrix he began to understand what Dumbledore had once said: that music was a type of magic beyond what wizards did. Proof of that was also that the Blacks, a family that was all about pureblood supremacy, did not reject the musical masterpieces created by great muggle composers.

That evening, the way that Bellatrix played it sounded more melancholic than usual. Almost sad. He was not an expert but he could feel the notes tugging at his heartstrings. When the song ended a few minutes later, Bellatrix quickly wiped the glistening corners of her eyes before she turned her head to smile at him.

"Thank you for listening to my song, Harry."

"Thank you for playing it for me," he said sincerely.

She rose from the piano stool and came in front of him. Then, she unexpectedly knelt in front of him and took him in her arms. It was a long hug, long enough to make him both perplexed and uncomfortable. Before that evening, Bellatrix had never tried to initiate any kind of physical contact with him yet she hugged him two times now already.

'What happened to her?'

A few moments later, he brought his hands around her and hugged her too, though hesitantly. Apparently, the fact that he had reciprocated the hug had been enough for her to tear up. She was not making any sounds but he felt one of her tears falling from her cheek onto his nape. Thoroughly confused, Harry could do nothing but rub her back soothingly and wonder if he was perhaps to blame for her sudden change of mood.

AN:

(1) If you're curious, google up "The Elms Scotland mansion". That's the building that I had in mind when I thought of Bellatrix's house.

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Back? Not Really by grumpywolf

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Chapter 10 - A Black Christmas

It was Christmas Eve. Bellatrix was not working during the winter holidays and the Blackthorn had been decorated with great enthusiasm by her and her House Elf, Niki. Harry had not been idle either and he had helped them by levitating various ornaments on demand and even applying Sticking Charms too when instructed to do so. It looked rather amusing that a building with such gothic architecture and old-fashioned furniture and chandeliers could exhibit such warmth and colour during Christmas. The only caveat was that they could not show it off to their neighbours because the entire place was hidden by a Fidelius Charm.

The scene that happened a few days ago was never mentioned again by Bellatrix and Harry had enough tact to not bring it up himself. He was just glad that she had returned to her energetic and slightly sarcastic self. While he was curious about what had made her so emotional, he was not going to push her into talking about it.

Now, the two of them were having dinner together at the light of numerous candles floating above their heads. All kinds of delicious dishes were spread over the long table in the kitchen: turkey, chicken, several types of salad, soup, pumpkin and apple pies, jello and a chocolate cake too. There was enough food to feed eight people, not only two.

It felt so domestic and peaceful. Harry could not remember the last time he had spent Christmas in such a chill and laid-back atmosphere.

'Last Christmas I was torturing information out of four Vampires in Hungary with the Cruciatus...'

After dying for the third time at the hands of Harry Potter, Voldemort chose not to reincarnate in England again. Instead, he came back to life in Albania and set his base of operations in the Balkan Mountains. Whereas Grindelwald had attracted wizards and witches of all kinds by promising them victory over Muggles and coming out of hiding, Voldemort changed his strategy from attracting purebloods to his cause to attracting all kinds of magical creatures unhappy with the status quo. The addition of Vampires to his already dangerous faction consisting of pureblood wizards, Werewolves, and Giants, had shaken the entire Europe. The community of Vampires from Transylvania was old, powerful, numerous, and bloodthirsty. They had tipped the scales into Voldemort's favour heavily.

'Even Goblins were debating whether to join his cause or not towards the end of the war...' Harry reminisced.

But he shook his head and willed that line of thought away. He did not want to think about the terrible war from the past.

'I'm making new memories now. Happy, peaceful memories, in a different world, with a lovely witch.'

It was just him, Bellatrix, and Niki. And a swarm of tiny Fairies that were arguing over the best spots in the large Christmas tree outside, in the courtyard. A flutter of wings and a hooting sound reminded Harry of the other inhabitant of the house: Hedwig had her own perch in the kitchen too. It looked like Bellatrix had fallen prey to her charms as well, not just Harry. A perch had been installed for her in the living room next to the fireplace, one in Harry's bedroom, and one in the kitchen. Hedwig had become a part of their impromptu family too.

"Would you like to come with me to Grimmauld Place tomorrow? Grimmauld Place is Sirius' home, my cousin. My sister, Andromeda, will be there as well together with her husband and her daughter. We're planning on having lunch together, on Christmas."

"Can you tell me more about them, about your family?" he asked and he made sure to keep his face straight and not betray his excitement. Inwardly, he could not wait to see Tonks and Sirius again. He realized that they could be completely different from how they used to be back in his previous life but he wanted to at least see them once.

"Well, the Black family motto is - was - "Toujours pur". It means 'always pure' in French. They valued one's ancestry a lot." Bellatrix said and Harry paid close attention to her words.

"So they were like Draco Malfoy? Calling muggleborn people mudbloods and such?"

Bellatrix made a small grimace.

"Pretty much, yes. My relationship with my family used to be very good...until I graduated from Hogwarts and received an internship offer at the Department of Mysteries as an Unspeakable assistant. After that, everything changed."

Her expression became cloudy and hard to decipher emotions flashed in her black eyes.

"There was a huge argument. My aunt Walburga did something unforgivable and I made sure she paid in full for it... But I ended up being burnt off from the family tree and broke off all contact with them. The only one from the family that helped me back then was aunt Cassiopeia. She never married and she had no children either. Seeing as I was her favourite niece, she helped me financially when I had nothing. After she passed away, she left me everything in her will: this house and her vault at Gringotts too."

Though Bellatrix had brushed over her conflict with her family succinctly Harry thought that whatever happened back then must have not been as simple as she made it out to be.

'Was it her broken relationship with her family the reason why she turned out to be a completely different person from my past life?' he mused. 'Peter Pettigrew is an honest man working a full-time job in Diagon Alley, Bella of all people was forced out from the Black family and Sirius ended up in Slytherin and he didn't run away from home, acting instead as a filial son...oh, and Fleur is a serial killer. This world really is upside down. Sheesh'

"I'm sorry, it's Christmas Eve and here I am, bringing our mood down with the sob story of my dysfunctional family," Bellatrix said apologetically.

"It's alright. I'm the one who asked. But if it's so bad why do you want us to go there tomorrow?" he said.

"Well, the old and bigoted generation died out. Nowadays, Sirius, Andromeda, and I are the only ones left from the Black family. There's Narcissa Malfoy too but she's got her head so far up her husband's pureblood arse that we haven't spoken in more than a decade."

Harry chuckled a little at her colourful language.

⁂

Christmas with the Blacks was not quite what Harry had expected.

'When I heard Sirius was a 'respectable' member of society I thought he'd be something like Lucius Malfoy. A proud and elegant man with his nose in the clouds... not this slob...'

Harry and Bellatrix arrived at Grimmauld Place at noon yet Sirius Black was already too drunk to differentiate between his own House Elf, Kreacher, and the young Harry Potter.

Bellatrix was embarrassed on his behalf but there was nothing she could do about it. Apparently, Sirius was a drunkard and a half whenever he did not need to attend Wizengamot meetings.

'How disappointing. After 12 years in Azkaban with the Dementors, my Sirius still had more life in him than this guy. How did this Sirius end up like this?' Harry said to himself.

"What about your sister? Is she not coming?" he asked.

"Kreacher said that the Tonks have already been here earlier in the morning," Bellatrix said.

If Harry was disappointed, it was nothing compared to how bummed out Bellatrix herself was. She had wanted to introduce Harry to the rest of her family and have a nice time together with them but her sister had come earlier than established and her cousin was too drunk to count to 10.

⁂

Once they left Grimmauld Place, the two of them returned to the Blackthorn, Bellatrix's home.

"Bottoms up!" she cheered and downed her glass of gin in a quite unladylike fashion.

In front of Harry, a foaming pint of butterbeer lay. However, he looked like he had no intention of touching it even with a stick.

"Um, I don't like butterbeer. I'd rather have some apple juice or pumpkin juice."

Bellatrix looked at him curiously because the pint of butterbeer was clearly untouched.

"Are you sure? Give it a taste at least. Trust me, it's very sweet, you'll love it." she tried to tempt him but Harry shook his head stubbornly.

His petulant refusal of even taking a small sip from the drink actually relieved Bellatrix because she was seeing him acting his age. Sometimes she was weirded out by how mature he was.

Niki, the House Elf, popped up in the next moment with a glass of apple juice and served it to Harry. His ears became red in embarrassment because of the look of amusement on Bellatrix's face and her giggles but he drank it nonetheless.

Ever since the Weasleys were killed at the end of 2004 until 2020 when he stepped into the Veil of Death, Harry had not taken even a sip of any kind of alcoholic drink. He had never forgotten how he had failed to Apparate on the first try on that fateful night because he had been too drunk on Firewhisky. Although on a mental level he knew that arriving 10 seconds earlier would not have changed anything, in his heart, he was still blaming himself that maybe he could have saved at least one of them if he had arrived a few seconds earlier...

His embarrassment at being made fun of by Bellatrix was now forgotten as the scene of the Burrow in flames played at the front of his mind. The fire, the Dark Mark, and the dead bodies of his family. He had never forgiven himself for refusing the Weasleys' invitation that night. He had never forgiven himself for getting too drunk to Apparate to their home instantly after getting that vision.

As he had had the chance to notice on multiple occasions before, his mastery over Occlumency was no longer as good as it used to be in his past life. Due to this young body, he had a hard time controlling his emotions sometimes. It was one of those moments in the present as well. Feeling his mask slipping up, he quickly stood up from the table.

"I'm sorry. I'd need to use the loo," he said, forcing himself to keep a steady voice.

Then, he left a befuddled Bellatrix alone at the table as he all but ran out from the kitchen.

"Maybe I shouldn't have laughed at him?" she thought out loud when she saw his uncomfortable-looking face and the way he almost ran away. But she shrugged her shoulders and giggled a bit. This was considered nothing compared to how they teased each other sometimes. She thought he would get over his embarrassment soon and come back.

However, even after six more glasses of gin, Harry did not return. More than a bit tipsy now, Bellatrix wobbled to the living room and fell asleep on her favourite sofa in front of the fireplace.

⁂

Harry went outside the house and the chilly air of the snowy Christmas night did wonders in helping him reign in his turbulent emotions. He took long and deep gulps of air and exhaled slowly, focusing on his breathing. It was a popular method of emptying one's mind because it was simple and it could be done anywhere, anytime. Nevertheless, he knew that shutting down his emotions completely was not healthy and that bottling them up could lead to them exploding even worse after some time. So he closed his eyes and started thinking about the happy memories he had made in his past life with the Weasleys, trying to drown the agonizing memory of their deaths with the happy ones.

His first time meeting Ron on the train... he and Ron saving Hermione from the Troll... Ron and the twins coming to rescue him from the Dursleys with their flying car in the summer before his second year... Hermione sticking up to him while the entire school shunned him in his fourth year... Dumbledore's army in the fifth year... Fleur and Bill's wedding... Ron and Hermione helping him in their Horcrux hunt... Fleur and Bill sheltering them at Shell Cottage after escaping from the Malfoy Manor... Ron and Hermione's big wedding after the war...

He drew out his fir and dragon heartstring wand and chanted:

"Expecto Patronum!"

However, the corporeal Patronus he had been expecting to see did not come out. Right when he spoke the incantation, the image of the Burrow in flames and the burning corpses of his loved ones appeared at the front of his mind. From the tip of his wand, only a few wisps of mist came out and they too dissipated rapidly.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he brandished his wand again and shouted as he focused his will harder than before on the happy memories.

But it was all for nought. This time, even the protective mist did not come out. Outside of his control, his eyes glistened and tears started rolling down his cheeks. Even his Occlumency could not stop the torrent of emotions boiling in his heart. It could not push away the tragic scene from the front of his mind anymore. He could not even empty his mind of thoughts like before. For the first time since he had woken up in this new world, Harry cried.

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