LAST SPELL, by Louis IX
Disclaimer: Check first chapter for full disclaimer and other warnings – I don't own anything relative to Harry Potter or X-Men.
9 – Family Man
posted March 9th, 2008
Harry's first years in his new life were strange. At some point, he had thought he'd die of boredom, but he soon realized that the amount of games, toys, and books available to him were much more numerous than the usual things people owned in the previous millennia.
However, he had to be careful not to display too much intelligence too early. That's why he liked when his godfather was taking care of him. Sirius played with him most of the time, but, when he wasn't... he wasn't. And Harry could read whatever he wanted, especially recent and not-so-recent History recounts, undisturbed for long stretches of time – especially when Sirius was bringing a young woman home.
Harry was much more careful around Remus, and around his mother as well. He knew that, when either of them left him alone, they used to cast spells to monitor him remotely. Thinking about it, Harry reflected that the earlier millennia's models of education, while less "secure" and thus having a higher mortality rate, were also more tolerant for the children's activities. Here and now, he felt as though he was surrounded by raw cotton: it was pleasant, it was warm and soft... but he couldn't do much.
That's why he seemed to like his godfather so much.
He didn't dislike anyone, of course. His parents were marvellous, their friends were nice, and even his godmother – Alice Longbottom – was pleasant. She often brought little Neville for the two of them to play together. But, when everyone was there, Harry preferred to walk to the adults' table to hear about the world's state rather than pile colourful cubes of softened wood.
That was how he learnt about Dumbledore's initial mistakes, and how the Potters were working on destabilizing the man. And how Lucius Malfoy's machinations were often counterbalancing them.
One year later...
Harry had enough of pretending. He had spent the last two years sneaking behind his guardians' back to read and to exercise his magic, and he honestly thought that some gifted children were actually able to read at age three. He had prepared his parents by asking to be read from actual books, and had just had a pile of "just" children's picture books for Christmas.
In front of the somewhat stunned family and their friends, he proceeded in reading the few words that appeared in the story.
"Well... that was unexpected." James commented.
Lily frowned. "Not completely. He has always shown an interest in books and reading. I know that some muggles push for their children to be able to read even earlier than that – some of them to the extent of shunning physical activity."
"I don't want my children to shun physical activity!" James exclaimed. "They have to be fit to play Quidditch, after all."
Lily, who had smiled at the first sentence, half-raised to smack the back of his head, but her swollen belly prevented her.
"Easy, Lils." James said gently. "We don't want to rush our babies, do we?"
"Of course not!" She sighed. "I thought I was ready to give birth earlier, though. They are pretty... heavy."
"With twins, it's often twice the usual payload." Sirius commented, earning himself a smack up the head from Remus.
"Thanks, Remus." Lily said.
"I didn't want you to move too suddenly and give birth on the sofa." he replied.
"Actually..." she winced.
"What? What?" "Are they coming?" "What should I do?" the three men exclaimed, running to her side.
She smiled, and relaxed. "Nothing, guys. I just wanted to make you sweat a bit."
They looked at each other and rolled their eyes, each of them having the same thought: 'As soon as it is finished, this means war...'
A week later...
The prank war ended before it even started. Lily had some difficulties in delivering the children to the world, and had to suffer the magical equivalent of a caesarean section. It was a little less painful and involved lots of foul-smelling potions, but she was still confined, with the twin girls, to the maternity ward of St Mungo. James was able to spend his nights and most of his days at the hospital, helping his bedridden wife to take care of the two toddlers. Remus and Sirius moved incessantly between the hospital and Potter Manor – where James and Lily had moved soon after Voldemort was defeated.
That confusion around Harry, involving "parental figures" less attentive to his every move, meant something for him: freedom!
Now that he knew more about the magical arts and their latest achievements, he was actually ready to try to heal Marie. He started by complaining to Sirius that he was tired, and went upstairs for a nap. After an hour of relaxing meditation to prepare for the upcoming night's activity, he stood up and warded his door, before switching to his older self and Summoning his staff.
First stop: Diagon Alley's apothecary.
After paying for the Mandrake cure – with some Galleons he had shamelessly taken from the empty pasta pot on the high shelf – and returning home, he stashed the bottle in the bottom of his toy chest. He then morphed back to his younger self, cancelled the ward, and went to sleep – for real, this time.
After that nap, he was quite fresh despite the nearing evening, but he hid it well. And, as soon as he was certain that Sirius wouldn't come into his room for the night, he changed into the shape he was in when posing as Wolverine, opened his window and headed towards the Forbidden Forest.
Towards the grave containing the pieces from Marie's statue.
When said statue had been smashed to bits, he wasn't aware of his magic yet, and he had grabbed the largest pieces that he could recognize – involving a shapely rear end. Now that he had the power and the knowledge to do better, he was ready to do so.
He waved his staff around the grave to excavate it, and, with the floating rocks in tow, he returned to the destroyed chamber – temporarily Stunning a bear on his way. Once again, he moved his staff in a particular fashion, and several rocks rose in the air while others didn't.
Not that he had the pieces, he smiled. Puzzles were a common game among kids "his" age.
His staff rotated in a circular way, and all the floating pieces began to move in the air in the same manner. Soon, blocks found neighbouring blocks that could fit beside them. And, a few minutes afterwards, a whole statue was looking back at Harry.
"Marie..." he whispered. He hoped that she would be all right after this, but the books about the cure had been very vague on the subject. Some people had lost their mind, while others had been fine as soon as they had awoken. But there was no clear-cut study about it. None knew anything about the place where their souls stayed, or if they could be considered dead or not. He almost snorted. Wizards had shunned the non-wizards so forcefully that very few of them knew about the thing known as scientific method – and even fewer applied it to the world around them.
Using his staff, he made the statue approach him horizontally, as if he was standing beside an invisible bed. When she was locked into place, he extracted the cure and began to liberally coat her with it – the insides of the bottle had been magically enlarged, so that it contained enough solution to coat one mid-sized human.
It took him a while, but nothing came to disturb him – not even an alarm from the proximity wards he had cast around the cave and around his room, back home. Once his task was finished, he looked around. Marie wasn't out of the woods immediately, though – figuratively and literally. Remembering the instructions, Harry thought that she would spend at least a week for her body to retrieve its normal tinge. However, she had something he had almost forgotten: he mutant power. As he was distractedly caressing her cheek, looking at the cave and imagining the remodelling he could do for her, he felt something tug at his power.
He recognized the feeling: he had felt it before. And, if she was siphoning his power... that meant that she'd heal much faster, too. Carefully, he bent forward, grabbed her hand, and kissed her lips. The draw was larger this time, but, contrarily to the previous times, it slowed without them separating.
"What is it?" he asked aloud, standing and looking at her in confusion – he was still holding her hand, but it seemed that it didn't have the usual effect.
"It? Am I an object for you, now?" a voice sounded. It was soft and raspy at the same time, but he'd recognize it anywhere.
"Hey! You're awake."
"And with a kiss, no less. Sleeping Beauty thanks you, Prince Charming."
He smiled at her and leaned to give her another kiss. It was only then that she realized that he was still holding her hand. The kiss ended abruptly. "Hey! What's this?"
"Precisely what I was asking earlier, beauty." he said with a smile, but turned serious quickly. "Has your mutant power... vanished?"
"I don't think so." she said, frowning and looking down. "It's more... it's like it was wild, before, you know? Now... I feel..." she looked up and found his eyes looking at her pensively. "I feel in control. I can control it! It's great!" she exclaimed, standing suddenly and jumping around in delight.
He smiled widely at her discovery and at her joy, but he didn't say anything. Something was disturbing him. He switched to Mage Sight and discovered it quickly enough. He snorted once, twice, before laughing outright. "I should have known!"
"Do you know the date?" he asked.
"Er... no. Why?"
"You didn't sleep a century like Sleeping Beauty. But you still slept for several years. I'm sorry... I could have come earlier, but..."
"Shh..." she whispered, putting a finger on his lips. "What did you want to say, earlier? About something you should have known."
He looked at her. This could change everything. Or not. "I found my identity."
"Oh." A pause. "And what is it? Who are you, I mean?"
"Harry Potter. I'm a wizard. Magic exists, and there are some people – whom you could call mutants, by the way – who hide from the non-magical world."
"Wow." Another pause. She was surprised, but, as a mutant who regularly met people with strange abilities, the piece of news wasn't that surprising. Still... "That's something."
"I think that's why you stopped leeching my power, earlier. I think you took enough to jump-start a magical ability, and it allowed you to control yourself."
"You sure of that?" she asked.
He Summoned his staff and presented it to her. "Take this."
Despite her surprise at seeing the immobile bit of wood jump from its resting place against the wall into his hand, she obeyed and grasped it. And immediately felt something coming from it in waves. Power. A power so great that she could get intoxicated quite quickly if she allowed herself to be drawn to it. Now that she was in control, she didn't want to be intoxicated. At all. She extended her arm, intending to give it back to Harry, when the staff buckled under her hand, sending a ray of light toward him.
He moved quickly to the side, and, dashing forward, he took the staff from her hand.
"I don't want it." she said, her lower lip quivering. "It was... it was too much. I want my control."
"All right. Come here." he said, opening his arms to soothe her. "But you know what?"
"This just proved what I said. You can do magic, now. You're a witch."
"It's just a gender distinction, not an insult. I'm a wizard, you're a witch."
"And where have you learnt to control that... that power?"
He looked at her fixedly, and she suddenly remembered his age. Or, rather, what she knew of his age. Which was enough, for her.
"Oh. Right. You learnt it before."
He nodded. "I don't know how it came, but I started to learn it ages ago. It was difficult, and hazardous, but fun at the same time. Nowadays, there are schools around the world, for children to learn this in a controlled environment."
She looked at him in wonder, before shaking her head. "I'm too old for school."
"I could teach you, you know." he said offhandedly.
"Hmm... tempting, but no." she replied. "Not today, at least."
"Why not today?"
"Well... we have some time before us, I think. And I also think that years of sleep had been enough for me to want something." she said, her eyes staring at him.
He looked down. "Well... I'd like to... but there's this other thing..."
"What? You got remarried?"
"No!" he immediately exclaimed, reassuring her somewhat. "It's just that... I learnt a bit more than my name and got more than this staff." He sat down, his legs crossed. "It's complicated, in fact."
He started to explain his findings and continued by retelling his current living arrangements. It took some time, and, when he finished, the sun was almost up and Marie's mouth was wide open.
"Fermet' book utin neyy vaker ed'din." he said, smiling.
He blushed. "Sorry. I meant to say that you were going to catch flies, and all..."
"And it came out in Elvish, right?"
Surprised, he looked at her for a second, before nodding.
After a thoughtful moment, she looked at him and smiled. "I might have a way for us to meet and for you to be freed of your state of infancy for a few hours a day."
"Two birds with a stone? Do tell."
Her smile became a wide smirk. "I can babysit you."
He snorted, before laughing outright, quickly followed by Marie. When they were calmed, he looked at her. "And you think you could have your wicked way with your little charge, too?"
She huffed playfully. "Let's not say this. I think that you are the one robbing the cradle, here, old man."
"Old man?" he asked innocently. "And here I thought you said Prince Charming, earlier... I'll show you what this old man can do!" he exclaimed, before jumping towards her. The chase that resulted was only finished when he had trapped her against a wall. "Who's the old man?" he growled devilishly.
"Oh, no! Please, someone help me from the evil wizard!" she called softly.
"Speaking of wizards... I think I have to return home." he said. "My godfather is moving around, and he'll "wake me up" soon."
She groaned. "You're evil."
"Of course." he smiled. "You just said so." A pause. "Seriously... I'm sorry I have to leave. Can you get by on your own for the day?"
"Of course not! I can travel with you and drop you in London, for instance. Or anywhere in the world. But, until you learn to teleport like I do, you won't be able to pass as my babysitter if I leave you too far away. Xavier's school is out of the question, for now."
She was thoughtful for a few seconds, before agreeing. "All right. London it is. Lead the way, good sir."
And, taking her hand in his, he did just that.
On his way to the kitchen, Sirius paused at his godson's bedroom door and smiled. He reached the doorknob and tried to turn it, but it wouldn't budge. After a couple tries, his smile vanished and he was shaking the door, his mind full of scenarios where vengeful Death Eaters were kidnapping or torturing Harry.
After a particularly violent shake, the door opened and he rushed inside... only to find the three-year-old boy sitting in his bed and rubbing his eyes sleepily.
"Wha' is it, Pa'foot?" Harry asked tiredly – after his nightly activities, he was a little bit fatigued.
The canine Animagus looked around the room and tested the window twice before turning toward the bed with a forced smile. "Nothing, pup. Just checking on you." He then returned to the door. "Breakfast will be ready in a couple minutes."
After a last look around, Sirius left the room and Harry smiled. 'Just in time.' he thought.
With Marie there to "take care" of him, Harry could spend even more time as his older self. The two of them arranged for the young woman to build herself a flat in a nearby building, and they spent their time together in various endeavours.
One of them was to discover their bodies once more. Since Harry – and now Marie – had some shape-shifting abilities, it led to interesting scenarios, but all of them were executed in good spirit. Harry even succeeded in "borrowing" a Time Turner that his dad had filched from the Auror school. Once in its possession, it was child's play to return it "just after" having taken it.
The problem with having a healthy sex life with a beautiful and willing woman with close to no birth control was... the kids. When Harry was nearing his fifth birthday, Marie found herself pregnant. As soon as he learnt about it, he decided to keep the Time Turner for himself, replacing it with a non-working copy, transfigured from a real hourglass. From that moment, he spent a day with Marie for each day passed with his parents and their friends. Nine months later, a little boy was born, whom they named Ryan Louis Potter.
This new responsibility caused some problems in Harry's "regular" life, one of them becoming evident when Lily indulged in James' request to draw a magical Family Tree. As the local Charm expert, she was the only one knowing the spell, after all. The enchanted quill drew James' ancestors and Lily's as well, before writing down Harry's. And it stopped.
The two Potters looked at each other, then at their children playing nearby. Weren't the twins Potter too? Looking closer, James remarked that the quill wasn't inactive. Far from it.
The writing instrument was drawing lines over Harry's name. Incessantly.
They dismissed the event and tried again, but it produced the same results again and again. Lily knew her spell theory quite well, but even that knowledge wouldn't have been able to explain exactly what was going on: the quill tried to draw lines between ancestors and descendants, but the names' position was directly relative to their date of birth. And most of Harry's direct children were dead millennia ago.
Thankfully, the quill always tried to write the first children before going to the next. And Harry had had so many children that the Potter always interrupted the spell way before Ryan's name came forward.
It would have been creepy, otherwise: how could a four-year-old become a father?
Harry still had his ongoing quest, and one of his recurrent task was to round up all registered werewolves in Britain to heal them. With the help from the thankful Lycans, he ferreted out the ones that weren't registered – either in fear from the magical government or because they preferred to cause havoc – and healed them as well. Those who were inherently evil were tipped off to the Ministry afterwards and sent to the wizarding prison.
Concerning the vampires, his search was more difficult because the blood-sucking anomalies didn't have a registry in the Ministry of Magic. It was only by finding one and exploring all its contact that he was able to remove them from the surface of the Earth – at least Britain. In this hunt, he even had some help from several particularly grateful Lycans, one of them being Remus himself. They proved invaluable, as experience told him – repeatedly – that immortality wasn't the same as invulnerability.
These two pursuits went well in England, but the Continental werewolves and vampires quickly noticed that their brethren were healed and destroyed – respectively. And they sent reinforcements. When they noticed this, Harry and Remus took a different approach.
They first identified all the contacts a particular werewolf or vampire had, using Legilimency or Veritaserum as needed. In that network, they tried to find the most active individuals, and pruned the hierarchy by removing these ones first, followed by its underlings, and so on.
It was a long process, and Harry knew that it wasn't finished when, years later, he received his acceptance letter.
Harry was still spending two days for each rotation of the Earth. The second one was spent at Xavier's school, where, posing as a new teacher, he spent his days with his lawfully married wife and their son.
Little Ryan wasn't developing fast for his age, but the tests done in the school's medical wing showed that his DNA was a mutant's. He proved this several times, when he found himself in a scuffle – something he liked very much... a little too much for Marie's peace of mind. His scratches healed quite quickly, and his bones were exceptionally hard. Harry witnessed him joking with friends that they wouldn't be able to break his leg with a baseball bat. The bat broke in two.
Harry was happy to have a healthy son, but he also knew the dangers of overconfidence. However, kids being kids, Ryan continued to rush into danger as soon as he found it. Each time he witnessed it or heard about it, Harry sighed, hoping that the years would appease his son's impetuousness.
During the same period, Harry's parents hadn't been inactive in their own struggle, either. In order to defend himself from their accusations, Dumbledore had pulled many strings. His first move had been to push the Ministry to outlaw James' relatively brutal purchase of the Daily Prophet. That allowed him to control the paper once again, and he made good use of it to slander the Potters and their close friends – successfully pushing their other friends away. After a few years, the remaining group of friends was limited to the Potters and the Longbottoms, as well as Sirius and Remus. They had additional friends in the muggle village they lived in, but close to no other among the wizards and witches. The only exception was Minerva McGonagall, but the older witch was under Dumbledore's scrutiny because of that friendship, and she couldn't do much.
Among them, all of them had lost their job at some point, mostly because of Dumbledore's machinations. Truth be told, Sirius' particular way of life had had some impact in his resignation from the Auror forces. The man's joyous nature had made him completely ignore the Statute of Secrecy when he flew his broom over London. He tried to play Quidditch professionally afterwards, but his career in sports was even shorter – for the same reasons.
Sirius' family was still considering him persona non grata. Even when his mother died, during Harry's "fifth" year, he wasn't invited to the funeral. He only learnt of this when he received a letter from Gringotts inviting him to a private meeting. Apparently, the crazy old woman who had been his mother hadn't thought of making a will, believing that the family tapestry was enough to determine who was inheriting the massive wealth of the Black family. Thankfully for Sirius, it wasn't, and, as the oldest male of the next generation, he received it all. Unfortunately, he didn't have the knowledge of the political prestige that was linked to it, and, even if he had, he was too lazy to use it properly.
The man was still young and easy-going, and he had many run-ins with women of the same age, whether it was in the village near the Potter's manor or other towns. Unbeknownst to him, in one of these circumstances, he forgot to use a couple of Charms – due both to him drinking too much and James pranking his wand – and the young lady found herself expecting – and having – a baby boy afterwards. Since he hadn't taken care of leaving a card when Apparating away, she didn't know how to reach him. Only the Goblins would be able to tell Sirius about his son, but it would be years later – when the boy would reach his eleventh year and receive an invitation to the nearest magical school.
Despite their difficulties, the group of friends had never had any problem with the Goblins – perhaps because of the three families' fortune. Their only trouble was to reach the bank when they wanted: since Dumbledore's mishaps and subsequent intrigues, Aurors had been sent to patrol Diagon Alley every day. And some of these Aurors had been brainwashed by the old man into believing the Potters guilty of an imaginary crime: Dumbledore's political weight had allowed him to pass a law prosecuting anyone "turning Dark" with the proviso that he was the only one able to declare that a given individual was guilty of this... without proof.
Of course, their Floo access was blocked, and their use of official portkeys severely restricted. However, the Potters and Lord Black knew something that even Dumbledore didn't: the goblins knew about muggle technology, and the diminutive creatures had several phone lines already – although it was in offices where humans didn't go. Some of Gringotts' customers were muggleborn, after all. Since some of them had a bit of money to invest and were open-minded enough to do so on muggle enterprises. Because of this, the bank had needed to stay in contact with the muggle world – and what was better than phones to do so? Once the stranded friends had the bank's number, it was child's play to talk to a Goblin. And, since the Goblins weren't limited by the restrictions the Potters were under, they were able to magically travel to Potter Manor at any time to discuss monetary arrangements.
For a nominal fee, the goblin warders even helped to protect the Manor against magical detection. And, at some point during Harry's "seventh" year, the Longbottoms and Remus had taken advantage of this and had come to inhabit the large dwelling.
However, the group of friends was seriously considering relocating to another country, in order to give Neville and Harry a magical education far from the scheming Headmaster. They were discussing about it when the solution presented itself with fracas. A glass-shattering fracas, in fact.
An owl flew through a window with an acceptance letter in its claws.
Or, rather, the body of the owl did. Its mind was clearly not there, and the Potters watched, shocked, as the brown avian started to leak blood on their carpet. Another sound came from the window, but they barely noticed that another bird had entered the house as well, although with more caution.
Generally, the group of friends didn't receive much mail, and owl mail even less due to the protective wards cast around the house. When they opened the letter, their surprise reached another level.
It was an acceptance letter, for Harry and Neville, in the prestigious magical school up north. The one they had come from. The one the Headmaster of which was their current opponent in the life-sized chess game they were playing. Hogwarts.
"How dare he!" Lily shrieked. "How dare Dumb-and-bore try to extend his reach over our children! Isn't the rest of wizarding Britain enough?"
The others were quite shocked by her outburst, but even more when the other bird opened its beak and uttered a very distinctive cry.
Lily jumped in fright, while James and Sirius had paled even before turning around. In front of them, now preening its dark feathers, was an augurey – also called an Irish Phoenix.
"It's bad omen..." James muttered to Sirius, who nodded.
After her first surprise, Lily was calmer, though, and she looked at the two men in turn. "What do you mean? It's just a bird!"
"Augurey's cries mean death." James said sombrely, not letting the bird out of his eyesight. Sirius merely nodded.
Lily put her hands to her hips. "And what about a Grim, Sirius?" she asked. "Should we fear for our lives when you transform?"
The addressed man forgot about the bird and turned around to look at her, a smirk in place. "Of course, you should. I'm the king of pranks, after all!"
"Which put you only in second place in this house." James commented, smirking as well. "Since I am the emperor of pranks."
"Boys!" Lily huffed, before going to the regal bird. Only then did she notice something: the augurey had blood on its talons. And feathers. "James!"
"Yes, dear? Oh, dear!"
"Drop the "dear", dear." she admonished him. "Do you think he killed that owl?"
Before James could utter the first word of "I don't know", the augurey had lifted its left leg, on which a parchment was tied. It read:
Dhraoithe an Éiru
(Irish school of magic)
Dear MM. Potter and Longbottom,
Word of your situation has come to our ears, and we would like to extend a hand of friendship in these dire times. We fondly remember the interactions our countries had before the uprising of the menace that was Voldemort, and Dumbledore's subsequent takeover.
We are pleased to inform you that you have both been accepted to enter our humble place of education, should you so choose. Know that, if you do, you'll share learnings with people from various places and races. Leprechauns, centaurs, goblins, even house-elves have come to our institution before, and continue to do so to this day. We take heed of the positions your respective family is in to know that this particular fact doesn't detract from our proposal.
What follows is the Scoil's program...
What followed was a 6-page pamphlet detailing every and all aspects of the school: the courses, year by year, with clearly identified goals. All members from the school's staff, including the teachers and the caretakers, were listed, with a short résumé showing their previous activities – and it shocked them to see Filius Flitwick there.
The school itself was situated to the north of the island, right at the end of the Giant's Causeway – the name of which was in fact accurate. The day-to-day life was presented as well, with references to the magical hamlet nearby – it wasn't that these wizards were wary of muggles, but the sheer number of people from non-human races was still making it difficult to mingle with muggles. Consequently, the school and the hamlet were hidden from prying eyes – which made the aforementioned causeway seem to go to nowhere.
Following the description of the hamlet were a series of suggestion for the parents of new students, depending on their proximity to the school. They could either put their children in school for morning and afternoon classes, for the whole day, for the week, or for the year. The doting parents could even rent a small house in the nearby village and stay close to their offspring that way.
Compared to the short missives from Hogwarts, it was very thorough... and the group of friends was greatly tempted to accept. A short discussion with their financial advisor – a goblin named Toothpick, who happened to have followed two years of the Scoil's program – was enough to tilt the scales in the favour of the Irish school.
Lily and Alice were quite happy for the children's well-being, too. The leaflet indicated that the course levels were very precise, and that students outranking their peers in a topic could take the following level – and it went in both directions. Since the school offered courses in several subjects, without placing limits to the number of topics studied, the students could spend from one to ten years in school. Some courses had prerequisites, though, such as each Advanced subject with their subject itself.
Of course, they also had "packages" which included common matters and often-used topics. One of these packages was labelled "pureblood angle-ish wizardry" and took only four years to complete. Upon close inspection, the Hogwarts alumni found out with surprise that it contained the most-often chosen courses of Hogwarts' curriculum.
Finally, they asked the two boys, who accepted readily – although it was for different reasons. Neville wanted to study everything related to plants, and, with his mother behind him, he selected only the courses he wanted, which would eventually allow him a Mastery in Herbology at the young age of 20 – he still had to learn the basics of Potions and Alchemy to know how herbs could be used and their properties therein.
Harry's first thoughts were about the house-elves' history. During the previous years, he had tried to discuss with some of them, but the discussion was always short-lived and frustrating. Perhaps, with house-elves in attendance, he could learn more about them. His second point of interest was the forest near the Scoil – which was, like the school and the village, hidden from the muggles.
Were there Elves in here?
Whether there were or not, he decided that he'd take advantage of the school system to learn everything that he had missed in his reintroduction to the wizarding world. And perhaps find new skills.
To be continued in next chapter: Overrated Education...
Author's Notes: for those of you who speak Ch'timi, that wasn't Elvish spoken here, of course (winks). Thank you for the reviews. As you might have noticed, I decided to split the chapter in two. The next one will include Harry's first years in school, as well as snapshots of what is happening in Hogwarts.