Form of the Soul

Chapter I


From Start to Finish

In a rich neighbourhood near the Cornish cost of England, a silver BMW car pulled up outside a beautiful white cottage with a lovely if a little overgrown front garden.

The passenger side door of the car opened and a skinny, bony blonde haired woman stepped out carrying a small bundle of white blankets, which contained a sleeping baby boy. He had a messy mop of black hair that made the woman want to turn her nose up at the sight, and if he were awake and had his eyes open, you would see a striking emerald green.

However, the most remarkable thing about this child of just fifteen months would be the lightning bolt scar on the right side of his forehead that had barely began healing.

The woman glared down at the child in distaste before looking back into the car, seeing a plump baby in the back seat fast asleep in his baby car seat; she gave him a loving slime. She then turned her attention to the driver: a huge beefy man with greying hair and a twitching thick moustache with beady eyes that glared at the baby in her arms before looking up at her.

"Just give me a minute," she said quickly. "Just let me ditch the freak and we'll be out of here and back to our normal, perfect happy lives, freak free," she declared with a smug look on her bony face.

He gave her a short nod of satisfaction. "Good! I don't want some freak living under my roof," he thundered as quietly as possible, which wasn't very quiet but at least neither child woke. "And I don't want any of them near my family again if I can help it."

She nodded once more before turning to look at the cottage. She took a few steadying breaths to still her nerves since it has been so long since she has seen these people after the falling out a few years back. The fresh coastal air did wonders and she immediately made towards the cottage, opening the small white wooden gate she walked through and up the path.

Her nerves got worse the closer to the powder blue front door she got. She had even just contemplated leaving the child on the doorstep with the letter she had received. However, she would not be so foolish as to dump a child on a doorstep like those freaks did with her; it was just not polite, and anyone who did something like that had no common sense, especially at such a late hour as ten in the evening, and in the winter.

She finally reached the front door and came to a stop. It took her a few moments for her to gain the courage to actually ring the doorbell. She waited a few more moments when the hallway light came on and the door was pulled open.

"Petunia!" the old woman who opened the door declared in shock. She had long greying red hair and sapphire blue eyes wearing a flowered dress. "What are you doing here?" she asked as her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I though you wanted nothing to do with us because we're proud of…" she trailed off in surprise as she noticed the small child. "What in heaven's name are you doing with, Harry?" she demanded, angry.

"Martha, dear, is everything all right?" asked a old man with grey hair with a few steaks of blonde and emerald green eyes wearing a blue suit. He reached the front door looking out he almost gasped. "Petunia, what are you doing here?" he asked in confusion.

Petunia just glared at them both before shoving the child roughly into Martha's arms where the older woman quickly took the child and held him protectively to her chest.

"He's all yours," she said with a hiss of disgust she pulled out the letter that was left with the boy and passed it to the man who took it looking confused and worried. "Those freaks thought I would take it in, but I won't have one of those things living under my roof," she hissed out angrily before turning and walking away back towards the car before stopping and turning back. "Oh, I almost forgot, Lily and her freak husband are dead," she smirked before turning her back on them and walking away.

Martha just stared after her daughter in shock and horror as she felt her blood run cold. It didn't take long for the screeching of tires to break her out of her shock, and she found her husband leading her gently into the lounge where he pulled her to sit on the sofa.

He sat next to her as she stared down at little Harry's peaceful face and began to silently cry for her grandson and his mother and father as they would never see them again.

Harry would never know his mothers and fathers love, and would never get to live a childhood surrounded by wonderful magic's. She didn't know what they were going to do, but she knew she and her husband were going to make sure young Harry had the best they could offer, and knew all about his parents and the world he will someday return to and be part of.

"W-what does t-the letter say, K-Kevin?" she asked as she looked up at her husband with red puffy eyes. He looked fairly OK considering, but she could see moisture in his eyes and knew he was holding back right now, being all brave and noble for her sake.

Kevin took a shaky steadying breath and opened the envelope, pulling out a sheet of folded parchment he un-folded it and looked it over reading it to himself carefully. His expression became grimmer the more he read before looking at Harry with a sad expression.

"It says that Voldemort… he-he killed them," he said tiredly. "He tried to kill Harry too, but something happened and the curse backfired and killed him instead leaving only that scar. Harry is going to be famous apparently and that Dumbledore bloke says that it would be best for Harry to be raised away from all of that. It says he erected some kind of blood protections around Petunia's house to keep the remaining Death Eaters or anyone else from getting to him."

"That, Dumbledore!" hissed Martha in annoyance. "You know how Lily felt about that fool meddling with everybody's lives; I bet he knows full well that that ungrateful little bitch Petunia would never have treated Harry right, which is why he never brought Harry straight to us."

"Probably," agreed Kevin in annoyance. "Expected little Harry to be brought up hated and downtrodden making it easy to swoop in as the heroic grandfather figure. I doubt he would have even found out we're actually alive if Petunia didn't bring him to us. So what do we do? We have to keep Harry away from these people. The wards Lily had those goblins put up around our house won't keep him safe for long. We were never worth that kind of effort, but Harry offed their master so they might rip our wards down."

"And we've got to keep Harry safe from Dumbledore too," she agreed sadly, her tears temporarily forgotten, as she has to protect her grandson first and grieve second. "We could sell up and leave the country?" she suggested. "I don't what our grandson going to Hogwart's; we can send him to a different magical school from whatever country we move too."

Her husband nodded deep in thought he could think of a few places they could possible go to, but all of them seemed too obvious as they have English as a first language, but he still thought a country outside of Europe would be the best place to hide. However, he felt he may actually have to make contact with their magical community to have Harry's family name magically reverted to theirs, as Evans would be best since Potter is now famous.

"I'm not sure where we should go," he finally spoke his thoughts. "But I don't think we should choose any English speaking country coz it will be too obvious."

"Of course," she agreed looking down at little Harry she stroked his cheek gently before getting a good look at his scar. "Does that letter say he's gotten any medical attention for his wound?"

Kevin frowned as he looked back over at the letter scanning it carefully before he slowly shook his head, angry and annoyed.

"No it doesn't. I think we should get him a visit with one of those medical witches or wizards as soon as we're out of the country. I also think we should leave as soon as possible, just encase that old fool finds out and tries to take Harry back to that jealous daughter of ours," he sighed sadly with a shake of his head.

"Of course, dear," she agreed readily. "Oh, could you go and fish out Lily's old crib and set it up so I can put him down?" she asked him quietly.

"Of course sweet heart," he answered as he stood up; he leaned down and gave her a kiss on the forehead before leaving the room.

Martha looked at Harry sadly with a small amount of pity for his loss, the same pity she felt at her own loss. However, she made a silent vow to her grandson that he would live a happy life free of his fame, and free of worry. He will live a life where he knows who he is, and will choose his own path. He will make friends who will be friends with him for him and not the fame of his parents' murder, and she will do everything in her power to make sure he has a happy life, and lives it for those he loves, and those who love him as a normal boy does.

Form of the Soul Form of the Soul Form of the Soul

It had been two weeks since they had received Harry and two days since they moved into their large apartment in Tokyo Japan. They had chosen the country because it is far from the UK and has a great culture to experience, which shall be a bonus for Harry, and them both. They had decided to eventually receive lessons in the language for themselves so they can get around easily and breech the language barrier.

However, all things considered they were having a good time with their grandson. Though they had not yet found out how to get into the magical world within this strange and wondrous new city. They had not lived within a city for many year, and remembered London always being a mess and sometimes a little creepy.

However, Tokyo was very different as the few people they have met such as at the local supermarket were all very nice and cheerful and unlike London, they showed no hostility to foreigners who can't speak the language. It was actually quite nice.

Their apartment was more of a penthouse on the twentieth floor and very peaceful with four bedrooms and three bathrooms with large living area open onto the kitchen.

It actually seemed a crime that they had not visited this city before on vacation. It would have been lovely, but British people tend to head for coastal areas for the beach and sun, and they were amongst them.

It was a nice day and Martha with Kevin were pushing Harry in his brand-new stroller towards a small park the doorman of their apartment block had told them about. It was lucky the kind young man had taken English as a second language at High School so could communicate with them well, something he was eager to do so he could perhaps pick up on some of the slang of their language that is not taught.

Harry was smiling happily, as they moved towards where the small children played in the play park with parents watching them intently. Harry had a soft blue headband around his head to hide his scar just encase they ran into a witch or wizard they did not want them realising who he is just yet.

They soon entered the park and Martha pulled Harry out of his buggy while he giggled happily saying, 'ganma, ganma!', which caused her to grin as she took him over to an empty baby swing next to a little girl about the same age being pushed by her mother.

Martha began gently pushing Harry and he giggled in joy while she smiled at him when she startled as the little girl's mother spoke to her, but she did not understand so gave an apologetic look as she continued pushing her grandson.

"Sorry, I don't speak Japanese," she said trying to get her to understand. "We've just moved here with our grandson, and… augh," she groaned. "You don't have a clue what I'm saying."

The woman laughed at her in amusement as she continued pushing her daughter.

"Hi, my names Yami Hereisho, and this is my daughter Miyuki," the woman suddenly said in English, startling Martha. "I asked whether you are tourists."

"Oh," she chuckled in reply with a light blush. "Sorry, no… we've just moved here, though it's a little hard with the language barrier, my husband and I plan on learning as quickly as our aged minds allow. And I'm Martha Evans by the way, and this is my grandson, Harry."

"Well it's nice to meet you," she replied. "It's always nice to meet new and interesting people; we don't often go to mu… uh this play park."

Martha started as the woman seemed to have stopped herself from saying something and she thought she might know, but that seemed too good to be true. Yami looked a little nervous as Martha's eyes searched her clothing, they seemed normal enough but she spotted a small bit of wood sticking out of her pocket, her eyes widened before she grinned widely. She glanced her husband sitting and reading an English translation of the city newspaper on a near bench before she looked back.

"You're a witch," she whispered getting a frightened gasp as the woman stopped pushing her giggling daughter. "Don't worry my grandsons a wizard, but I need to know how to get into the wizarding side of Tokyo."

"But you're a muggle," she answered. "Then what happened to his parents?"

Martha thought about lying for a moment as the thought brought sadness to her heart, so decided on a half-truth.

"Voldemort," was the only word she needed as the woman grimaced in shock with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry I asked," she answered sadly. "It's no wonder you fled the country after all of that trouble. If only the British just slaughtered the murderer's, children would not have lost their parents."

"I agreed on that, but I have to get Harry to a medial witch or wizard as soon as I can."

"Is he ill?" she asked looking at the happy boy both worried and confused since he did not look ill.

"No," she shook her head. "It's just we need to get him a… check up. Please I would rather not tell you why."

"OK," she nodded with a smile. "But the way your acting, it's like you've taken Harry Potter from the British Wizarding World or something intent on keeping him from the morons," she laughed expected Martha to laugh as well, not pale. "Oh, you did, well that make more sense," she grinned. "Don't worry I'm not going to tell anyone. He is your grandson and you have every right to take him from them. Hmm, I'm sure Miyuki could use a friend, we don't get out much because of my work, though I would feel much better if you allowed me to ward up your home. I can also help him with his Japanese."

Martha smiled in relief. "Thank you so much," she sighed. "But please I don't want even little Miyuki to know of the whole fame thing. I just want him to have a normal life. Uh, your medics do have a code of conduct where they keep things like this secret, right?"

"Yes," she agreed. "But what's wrong with him, he seems happy and fit to me?"

"That old fool Dumbledore had never gotten him seen by anyone," she answered. "He was hit by the killing curse after all, and I hope to get that stupid scar healed over."

"He never," she replied in disgust. "Well we best get him to the hospital immediately."

"Thank you – and he's supposed to be the greatest wizard of our age."

"Ha, that's just the British who think that," she retorted with a smirk as they both laughed.

Form of the Soul Form of the Soul Form of the Soul

Martha and Kevin walked into the doctors' office while Yami waited in the waiting room with Miyuki. The doctor, a short and cheerful man smiled at them and gestured them to sit. So taking Harry out of his buggy Martha sat with him on her lap while her husband sat next to her.

"So how may I help you?" he asked, as he looked them over. They were just thankful they had a few doctors, or medi-wizard's who spoke English.

"We need to know for sure that you won't mention this to anyone first," said Martha nervously.

"Of course not Mrs. Evens," he replied proudly. "It would mean my licence if I did, and I did not spend five years training in medicine to lose it now."

Martha nodded before she removed Harry's headband.

"My grandson was hit by a killing curse just over two weeks ago."

The medi-wizard's eyes widened in shock as he took in the scar that is already famous around the world. He felt honoured to actually be the medic to check on the only person to survive such a curse and make sure everything is perfectly fine.

"We want the scar healed after you've checked for anything wrong with it," added Kevin hopefully.

"Of course Mr. Evans," he agreed. "The British would have most likely left it as this scar is just as famous as young Harry, here, but this type of scar should be removed for the peace of the child. We have a different mindset to them and their traditional pureblood crap. If they bothered to open their pathetic eyes they would have realised nearly all of the worlds magical communities are made up of mixed blood mages or muggle-borns."

He smiled assuring as he stood up and pulled out his wand waving it over Harry's forehead several times while chanting under his breath before retaking his seat and looking worried.

"I'm afraid it won't be as simple as healing," he said after a moment of thought worrying Harry's grandparents. "The flesh behind the scar contains some seriously dark magic. The scar is diseased and the only way I can see to remove the scar is to cut it out, and regenerate it after. It will only take a few hours, and you can take him home after since. It is just an easy operation."

"W-what if he keeps it?" asked Kevin nervously.

"He'll be dead before he reaches his nineteenth birthday," answered the medi-wizard straight to the point.

"Then of course you'll be doing it," demanded Martha in horror. "And that foolish old man left him with that. I bet the ass knew about this too."

"If you're talking of Albus Dumbledore, I have no doubt he knew about this," he agreed in annoyance. "It is probably because of the scars psychic properties. It has some kind of connection, most likely with Voldemort. It would have caused Harry immense pain if he ever came into contact with Voldemort, and stung when they were near each other. This connection is worrying because it would not exist if Voldemort were actually dead. He may not be fully alive but I do not believe he is dead."

"S-so Voldemort might come back?" asked Martha in horror holding Harry a little tighter. "H-he might come back and try to get my baby's baby again?"

"I'm afraid it appears so," he agreed sadly. "But he will be looking for Harry Potter, but this boy is clearly Harry Evans, a Japanese citizen, not British, and nobody in this country will ever allow him harm. The Boy-Who-Lived doesn't exist."

"Thank you," they both replied in relief.

Form of the Soul Form of the Soul Form of the Soul

Albus Dumbledore, old headmaster of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry returned to his office and slumped down in his seat behind his desk. Just this morning he had realised the wards around Harry's house were not working so he had gone to check on them, and to his horror discovered, Harry was not in the house.

He had been angry when he knocked on their door, and after some arguing with Petunia Dursley, she had told him that she had taken the 'freak' to her mothers in Cornwall. Now he could not have any of that so he went to fetch the boy so he could force the Dursley's to take him in so he can be the downtrodden little tool he needs to be.

However, to his horror he found that their house had been deserted and they had a 'for sale' sign up outside. They had not even taken any furniture so he believed they might have ditched the country since he knew Lily had not fully trusted him, and she may have said as much to her parents.

In addition, Martha and Kevin may have figured ulterior motives when Petunia delivered the boy with the letter he had left. Now he had to search several English-speaking countries for the blasted boy, and if they manage to find the magical world of said countries, it will be near impossible to get the boy back since all of said countries give muggle families their rights when it comes to their magical children.

He is not stupid like most in the British magical world and knows most countries do not have any form of blood purity, and most of the world is mixed blood or muggle-borns.

It was something even Voldemort neglected to realise, and if he and his Death Eaters had ever spread out into the US or Russia, or even further he and his Death Eaters would have been brought to a halt with deadly force.

Albus knew the further from the British Isles you travel the more blood purity disappears – the less people can say they are pure-blooded witches or wizards. It is also fact that laws on magical creatures are greatly different as they actually have rights.

This only means one thing to Albus Dumbledore and that is 'trouble', maybe a lot of it because there is a chance he'll not be able to find the boy, and even if he does he may not get him back. He also had to worry about Harry never attending Hogwart's since he is no longer in the country all of the charms he used to prevent other schools inviting him are null and void. Also, what if someone discovered what Harry's scar meant and removed it, Harry would lose the connection and would just be an ordinary brat, and he couldn't have that, but where to begin looking?

To Be Continued…