Welcome one and Welcome all to a short (Maybe) one-shot called "The Boy Who Vanished"
This is for all the boys and girls who had liked my "What if" shorts during "A Midsummer Hunt", for fans of that, I do plan on posting a second chapter this week, it will be one of the shorter ones. But this one shot is about Harry Potter, the Son of Persephone Despoina, The Queen of The Dead.
On with the show!
"Are you sure about this?" A woman asks the small boy in front of her, "You can still go to Ilvermorny, it wouldn't be a problem getting you in as a late enrollment," she sounded worried, if not a bit scared. the woman was of average height, and slim build, she wore a dark brown shirt with a flower blooming from a white skull over her modest chest and dark black denim jeans hugging her wide hips. Her skin was in the middle of turning from a light tan to a pale color, her dark brown eyes are almost black. But the oddest thing about her was her hair, her long black inky hair that went down to her mid-back was turning a bone white from the roots to just above her ear as she stood on the edge of the small town right outside of the school near an old abandoned house.
The boy looks into her almost black eyes with his stunning emerald eyes, "for the tenth time, I'm sure mom, besides after all the trouble Melinoë went through stealing the letter, and the shopping trip, she'd kill me if I backed out at the last minute," the boy says with a smile thinking of one of his "Older Sisters". He, like the older woman, was wearing dark clothes, a black t-shirt with a red spider lily and a calla lily growing entwined and the words " Live for the Dead" underneath them, black jeans with a hole in the right knee, a pair of black trainers, and a baseball cap with a metal plate that read "DOA records" and a leather bomber jacket that seemed to be a size or three too big for him.
"I don't know why I let you two go off by yourselves, all you two do is cause trouble wherever you go," the woman says with a stern look but a fond smile.
"Oh, come on," the boy says with a scoff, "we're not that bad," but the woman gives him a pointed look.
"Camp Half-Blood, three weeks ago," she says as if it explained everything.
"Hey! That wasn't our fault," the boy says defending himself and his older sister, "the Ares cabin started that, we were just helping out the Hermes cabin," the boy says with a cheeky grin.
The woman rolls her eyes, "I'm sure they did," she says with a sigh, before her face shifts to worry once more, "Do you have everything? Trunk? Wand? The Despoina?" The woman asks.
"Trunks shrunk and in my pocket," He says as he pats said pocket of his jacket before pointing at his wrist, "wand is in the holster, and the Despoina is clipped on the back of my belt like always," he tells her with a soft smile, "I've got everything,"
"But we arrived too early, I can't just leave you here," she says looking around the road that leads to the village up the way.
"Mom, it's fine, I want to explore the village anyway, it will be fine," the boy says with a roll of his eyes before looking back at the woman, "I'll change into my robes when the train gets here and slip in with the first year's, they'll never know,"
"And what are you planning to tell them when the 31st rolls around?" She asks
"Nothing, I'll pretend to be sick in bed until I wake up, it will be fine mom," the boy says with a smile, "you're worrying too much, again,"
"I can't help it, you're finally going to school, I'm allowed to worry dear," the woman says, bending down and enveloping the boy into a hug, the boy hugs her back with a smile.
"I know," he mumbles into the crook of her neck, "but I'll be fine, you'll see," the boy says as he breaks from the embrace.
"You know they're all going to freak when they find out, right?" The woman says with a smile.
"Yup!" The boy says with a smile, popping his lips at the end, "it's gonna be great,"
The woman sighs before shaking her head, "Don't forget you own an owl and write to me if you need anything, understand?" She says and the boy nods before she just gives him a nod, and the boy turns and starts running towards the village, "And no mischief young man!" She yells after him as the boy starts to laugh.
"No promises!" He calls back and the woman shakes her head once again.
"Oh, Lily, what am I going to do with that boy of ours," she says quietly with a sigh before scattering into flower petals and disappearing in the wind.
Excerpt from The Daily Prophet, December 27th, 1981
The Boy Who Vanished!
By senior reporter, Hugh Oriest.
We all know the story by now, that a little over a month ago the reign of death and terror brought onto us was ended on the night of October 31st, the how still remains a mystery all we know is that She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named went to the quiet village of Godric's Hollow intent on killing a small Family of three, Auror James Potter, Lily Evans, and Harry Potter, she had succeeded in ending the life of James Potter and Lily Evans, but somehow was felled by there child, Harry Potter. Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore, using both the wartime authority of his position and being the executor of the Potter estate granted to him by the now deceased James Potter, had placed Harry Potter in what he had dubbed a "safe place with relatives" but as to who he wouldn't say. After the events of that night the secret keeper, Peter Pettigrew, was arrested and would later escape Auror custody, and two of James Potter's close friends (Sirius Black and Remus Lupin) would comment that had no idea where the Chief Warlock had place the young savior of the Wixen Islands. As the last month went by in trials and imperious victims came forward to point fingers and name names, and lest we forget, the horrifying attacks on the Longbottom family, everyone seemed to forget about the boy whom we all raised a glass to on November 1st. But late last night an emergency meeting of the Wizengamot was called, the reason? Harry Potter has gone missing.
Apparently, the Chief Warlock had placed young Harry Potter with relatives of his Mother, Lily Evans, to hide him from the remnants of the Dark Lady's forces under a powerful protective ward but when Albus Dumbledore went to check-in on our young savior, he found the Harry Potter missing. New information is still forthcoming, such as what The Wizengamot's reaction to this will be and what will the Wixen Islands do to find our missing Boy Who Lived!
But we here at the Daily Prophet can't help but to ask the hard questions, why was Harry Potter put with Muggles? If he was behind such a powerful ward, how was he taken? Who has taken him? A deranged fan? Death Eaters still at large? And for what purpose? Will this be the last we hear of our savior? We, at the Daily Prophet, intend to keep our readers up to date on all these questions and more!
But as the days turned to months that turned to years, no new information came forth, the boy who lived had vanished the night of the winter solstice and was not seen in England again after that.
Sirius Black offered a 100,000 Galleon reward for either the safe return or information that led to the safe return of Harry Potter after a year of the boy going missing, the reward would remain unclaimed for the next ten years.
Remus Lupin would scour Europe to find the missing boy, but always came back more beaten down and empty-handed.
Albus Dumbledore would use his position as Supreme Mugwump to ask the other nations for help, but most just offered their sympathy and moved on with their own lives in their own nations.
Severus Snape would spend his time out of the school he now taught at helping Albus search for the boy he had sworn to protect on the gave of the woman he once loved and still did, he dug into every dark corner of the world to find even a hit of the boy, but found nothing.
And after seven years of no signs of life, Harry Potter was proclaimed dead, and the whole of the Wixen Islands mourned the loss of the last Potter, but still, the four men never stopped looking for the boy, the Potter vaults remained sealed, his name never leaving the Book Of Names that held every living student or student to be in it at Hogwarts.
Hogwarts, Severus Snape.
Severus Snape isn't what one would call polite, nice, well-adjusted, or anything remotely good. He was a man haunted by the ghosts of past regrets that he could not exercise, and he hated the fact that he couldn't, but as he walked the ancient halls of the place that, where once he was a student, now a teacher, he honestly wished he could rid himself of those ghosts. He couldn't help but to remember what day it was, September 1st, if all had gone to plan Lily's son would have been on the train arriving at Hogsmeade station in only a few short hours. But, like everything in his life, nothing had gone to plan, Severus himself was not completely convinced that the boy was dead, when he had disappeared from Tuney's home before the front door was even open, Severus had hit up every contact in the Death Eaters that had escaped Azkaban if that had a hand in it, but the answer was always the same.
"I wish I had," they had all said in one way or another, it had sickened Severus that he had ever listened to any of them when he was a schoolboy, Noble Movement his arse.
Then he had dug deep into the seedy underbelly of the Wixen world looking for any hint, any sighting of the boy while the wolf had searched the whole of Europe, and still nothing, the boy had vanished without a trace. He had failed what he had promised on Lily's grave, and he hated himself even more for it. He had gone back over the years to look under stones he had turned over years before and still nothing, he had gone so far as the states and Japan in hopes to find anything, but it was like he was chasing ghosts. If the boy was dead, whoever had done it had done a very good job of erasing all evidence of it and would die a very slow death if Severus ever found out who had done it.
"Ah, there's tall, goth, and creepy," says a voice from behind Severus as he is leaving the dungeons, he doesn't even begin to hold back the aggravated sigh that escapes his mouth.
"What do you want, Twist?" He says as he spins around to look at the second most aggravating woman he had ever met in his life.
Olivia Twist was shorter than him, with piercing blue eyes and short blonde hair that stopped just above her ears, and a tan complexion. Her voice was grating because of the thick New York accent that escapes her mouth every time she opened it to speak, the navy and cranberry trimmed men's dressed coat she wore clashed like an eyesore with the green and gold trimmed vest underneath it with a black blouse and dress pants. She moved like the trained Auror she was for sixteen years, her eyes sparkled with amusement when Severus looked into them.
"Oh, why so dour Severus, you and the rest of the staff are acting like someone died or something," she says, lips quirking into a smile.
Severus' scowl deepens as he glares at the woman who has been working at the castle for the last two years, going on three, "I know it may have escaped your obviously short-sighted view of the ongoing of this nation, Twist, but this is the year the Potter boy was to attend Hogwarts, the boy's mother and father was good friends or former pupils of a few on staff," Severus tells Olivia, all the woman does is quirk an eyebrow, as if she was a bit surprised.
"That was this year, my, how sad," she says, not at all sounding it.
"What do you want, Twist?" Severus says, voice close to anger.
"Jeez, calm down, Sev," Olivia says, the smirk never leaving her face.
"Do not call me that!" Severus snaps at her, "You are to either call me Snape or Professor, not Sev," he says the last word in a horrible back New York accent.
"Well, so~rry Professor," Olivia says with a chuckle and mocking gesture as Severus fumes, "The old man sent me to collect you for the last staff meeting before the students get here, I drew the short straw to come find your creepy ass,"
"I was just on my way," Severus tells her through clenched teeth, "and I am not creepy, Twist," he says as he brushes past her on his way to the staff room.
"Sure, whatever you say, stalker," Olivia says as she follows behind him.
"And stop telling people I stalked you!" Severus yells as he storms through the corridors with Olivia Twist Laughing behind him.
Albus Dumbledore, Staff Room.
Albus looks toward the door as it swings open, the last remaining professors joining them, Severus and Olivia, the former's face etched in rage and anger, while the latter had amusement dancing in her eyes. Albus sighs at this, he did wish his teachers would get along better, but it seemed that those two would remain bitter rivals till one of them tries to curse the other, his gold was on Severus firing the first spell.
"Ah, excellent, we are all here so now we can begin with the last staff meeting before the students get here," Albus says with a clap and a smile as Olivia and Severus take the seats as far away as possible from each other. "Is everything prepared for the school year? Does anyone need any last-minute items?" Albus asks his teachers as most shake their heads before Severus looks over at him.
"While not an immediate concern, the stock of dried Lion's Mane is low and won't last the term, lucky, I've already brewed the infirmaries stock of potions for the foreseeable year," the Potion Master says before Minerva makes a not on a piece of parchment.
Albus nods, "I'll see to it you have a fresh stock by the week's end, Severus," he says before asking another question, "Heads of Houses, how are the wards? Have you noticed any problems that need a quick fix?" Albus asks, and it was Pomona who was the one to speak.
"While not in Hufflepuff, the wards around the greenhouses aren't functioning properly," the roton Professor says, "just this morning I found some Grippersnaps in my potting soil, I checked them but I couldn't find a problem with them," Pomona explains and Albus nods again, but is cut off before he could speak.
"Oh, Professor, do ya mind if I swing by the greenhouse and grab them?" Asks Hagrid, "They make a mighty fine treat for the thestral," the jolly half-giant asks.
"Hagrid, if you can get them before the students get here, they're all yours," Pomona says and Hagrid nods happily.
"Excellent, and don't worry Pomona, I'll check the wards personally after our meeting," Albus says as Pomona thanks him, "anything else?" The headmaster asks his staff, and he sees Minerva open and closes her mouth, her lips pressed into a thin line.
"Minerva?" Dumbledore asks, "is there something that you think I should know?" He asks one of the teachers with the longest tenure that had taught at the school.
Minerva sighs before turning to him, "I check the list of students this morning Albus, He's still on it," she says in a soft voice, and the mood in the room immediately changes. Hagrid sinks into his chair with a sigh, Flitwick's face twists into a deep sadness, and Severus' face goes blank. "What do you want me to do when I get to it tonight?" Minerva asks with her own heartbroken tone of voice, and Albus sighs sadly.
"Perhaps," Albus says slowly, "Perhaps we skip his name tonight, we need not soil a festive day with such a sad memory," his voice is solemn and soft as Minerva nods sadly.
Not quite a dead soul, but not quite living either, Hogwarts.
She didn't know what the old goat was thinking when he had told the Islands that the boy was still alive, it had confused her when she had found out that almost three years ago. Why try and kindle a dead hope? Why keep it alive? Propaganda against her? To keep her followers that had escaped Azkaban scared? She had no clue and was convinced Albus had lost the last of his marbles.
After all, she was there that night, she saw her magic carve the wand movement into the boy's forehead, she had seen the light leave his eyes, and the body begin to collapse before Lily Potter's last spell had taken effect and robbed her of her corporeal form.
No, Harry Potter was dead, she had killed him herself while the boy was still in the crib, when he wasn't a threat, he had died that night with his parents. Whatever game Dumbledore was playing with the long-dead body of a one-year-old, she had no clue, but was going to enjoy it when it blew up in his face.
Hermione Granger, Hogwarts, the Black Lake.
To put it in words on how Hermione Granger felt right now, jubilant would be an understatement, excited wouldn't cover it, and ecstatic just didn't sum it up. The excitement that buzzed under her skin ever since a year ago when Professor McGonagall had shown up at her home and explained to her and her parents that she was a witch and how she was accepted into a school for witches and wizards had yet to fade. She had practiced the charms and cantrips that wouldn't set off the trace and devoured every book she could get her hands on about the history of the world she had now found herself in, and the fascinating theory behind magic and where it had comes from. While some of the things she had read had shocked and disgusted her for a culture almost 200 years behind the muggle world, the magic and the ability to do it still fascinated her that not even the ugly truth of the Wizen world could bother her.
So, when September 1st had finally come, she was awake bright and early to rush her parents out the door and to Kings Cross to get aboard the Hogwarts Express an hour early to start her school year. She had met a few kids aboard it as well, the quiet, but kind Neville Longbottom whom she helped to try and find his toad, the rude but oddly funny Ron Weasley whom she had lost three games of chess too surprisingly enough, the Suave but distance Blaise Zabini, the kind, and polite Susan Bones, and a rude little cockroach by the name of Draco Malfoy. Hermione, like her parents, had hoped that this school wasn't like the last three she had gone to, she wasn't the most, …social of children, it also didn't help that the last three schools had immature bullies that had harassed her into leaving. No, Hermione had hoped that this year, she would finally make some friends. So as she stepped off the train and followed the voice of the frighteningly tall man over to the docks she had not expected to meet one more person that night.
As she went to go sit in one of the boats, she stops as a voice had called out just before she had sat on them, "Oi, watch out," the voice had said, causing Hermione to jump and spin to see a body that she was sure wasn't there a moment ago.
"Oh, I beg your pardon, I didn't see you there," Hermione says to the voice that sounded like a boy, but wore the same plain black robes she, herself, wore and a witches hat pulled low over his face, they wave it off speaking again, yup definitely a guy.
"It's all good, you stopped before we got to the awkward part," the boy says with a shrug, "No harm, no foul," as Hermione sits down in the empty seat next to him, the boy shifts over, keeping the witches hat over his eyes, but she could see the pale flesh of the boy's jaw. He has an American accent, which throws Hermione off for a moment. She had thought that Hogwarts only accepted children born on the Wixen Islands.
"I'm sorry if this seems a bit rude, but are you from England?" Hermione asks the boy, and he nods.
"Yeah, I was born here, I just grew up across the pond," he says with a shrug before leaning back as the boats begin to move forward.
"Oh, where are my manners," Hermione says before offering her hand, "Hermione, Hermione Granger, it's nice to meet you, were you on the train?" She asks after introducing herself.
"Hm, oh!" The boy says as he takes her hand and shakes it, "Nice to meet you, Hermione, fair warning I suck at remembering names, I'll remember your face just not your name, so just remind me, but no, I live in the village, so no train for me," he says with a roguish grin.
Hermione waits a moment as the boy looks around, waiting for the boy to introduce himself, but he never does, as she opens her mouth to ask his name and berate him for being rude, his grin turns into a full-blown smile "Wicked," he whispers looking forward and as Hermione turns to see what he was looking at, all thoughts of the boy bleed away as the lights from the castle of Hogwarts illuminate the black lake, Hermione wasn't the only one who gasps at the sheer majesty of the castle, and she was sure she wouldn't be the last. The awe, sadly, did not last long as the boats made it to their final destination, a little cove hidden beneath the castle, as the self-rowing boats made landfall, the children quickly climb out and follow the tall man to the door before he turns, checking if everyone was still with him before he hands Neville the toad that the boy lost and knocking on the door.
The door opens to a stern-faced Professor in emerald robes as the tall man speaks up, "first year's Professor McGonagall," before the Professor thanks the man, whose name is Hagrid. Hermione notices the boy who she had shared a boat with dips his head to avoid the Professor's gaze, Hermione narrows her eyes as he does before following the crowd inside, when, after a short speech from Professor McGonagall, they were left on their own for a short moment.
The boy in the witches hat leans against the wall with his hands in his pockets, his foot tapping rapidly on the ground as if he was impatient about something, but had decided to wait it out, Hermione's eyes narrow at him once more, the boy was up to no good, she was sure of it.
"Why are you wearing a witches hat?" Asks a blonde girl with purple eyes to the boy.
The boy just smirks before saying, "because I can pull it off," before adjusting it a bit, the blonde girl rolls her eyes as a girl next to her who was wearing a beanie, snorts out a laugh before saying a simple "Nice," before Hermione could make her own comment about the odd boy, a yell from the front of the hall catches her Attention.
"And I said he's not dead!" She hears Ron's voice yell out before the snide voice of the cockroach answers back.
"Come off it Weasley, is your head as empty as your vaults," Malfoy says and a few boys laugh, "Harry Potter is dead, he's been dead, it's more likely that he died that night with his parents when the Dark Lady paid them a visit and Dumbledore was just covering it up," Hermione could easily hear the mocking face in Malfoys tone of voice. But the name he had said, Harry Potter, she knew, he was mentioned in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and History of the Blood War it was commonly accepted that the boy who lived had ended the war, but Hermione was skeptical of that fact, but none could deny the tragedy that had befallen the poor boy afterward, he had disappeared without a trace, thought to be dead.
Hermione turns away from the yelling match back to the boy, but is surprised to find him gone, she turns back and forth looking for him, but finds no trace, and before she can ask the other girls what happened to him, another scream comes from the front, one of fear. She turns and sees something that makes her heart stop, ghosts, tens of them, floating overhead talking about someone named Peeves before noticing the students and telling them that they hoped to see them in their respective houses. But as two approach where Hermione is, they stop before she sees their eyes widen in fear as they begin to look around in fear.
"N-Nick, do, do you feel that?" The roton man in priest robes whispers in fear.
"I do, come, Friar, let's move on," the other ghost says, fear lacing his voice.
"B-but it's o-one o-o-of them," the priest says before the other ghost answers.
"If it is, we do not want to be here, so come," Nick the ghost says as he quickly floats away.
As much as Hermione wants to ask what they meant by that, Professor McGonagall returns for them, ordered into a single file line the group heads off, being led off to through the Great Hall. It wasn't until they were halfway to the stage that the voice of the boy speaks from behind her.
"The ghosts were pretty cool, weren't they?" He whispers, and Hermione has to stop herself from jumping out of her skin.
"Don't do that!" Hermione hisses, but all the boy does is chuckle before they make it up upon a small stage right in front of the high table in front of all the Professors, as they line up to face the school, Professor McGonagall places a short stool with an old ratty hat on it, Hermione was confused until it started to sing, then she was just baffled.
The boy next to her chuckles after the hat had stopped singing, "Neat," he says with a smile as he politely claps with everyone else. Hermione leans over close enough to whisper to the boy as Professor McGonagall begins to call out names.
"What are you up to?" Hermione demands to know from the boy, he was acting too suspicious to not be up to no good.
"Who? Me?" He whispers back, his tone is filled with surprise but Hermione could see the faint grin on his lips, "Nothing at all," he says as the grin morphs into the rogue-like one he had on the boat.
"Lair," Hermione hisses softly back to him, and the odd boy chuckles just as softly.
"Okay, fine, I'm just playing a harmless prank," he whispers back, and for the first time since meeting her tilts his head back to look her in the eyes, his striking emerald eyes sparkle with mischief untold that, when matched with his roguish grin, makes her blush.
"Granger, Hermione!" Professor McGonagall calls out.
The boy winks at her, "Good Luck," he says as he tilts his head back down.
The weirdest thing about Ghosts, is how often they are forgotten about. Most mortals, Wixen, Demigods, and mundane tend to be happy about forgetting about the dead after a while, they would no longer mourn their loss like they used to, nor would they celebrate the dead's life as they should do, they simply…forget. Which the boy found odd because the dead never forget about the living. They clunge to the living via strong feelings of regret, love, or revenge, they want to be seen but are so often overlooked by the living, some didn't mind, like the man standing next to McGonagall whose eyes are filled with love and patience to wait for her to pass on so they could go together.
Some, like the small girl sitting on the arm of the chair of the old man with a long silver beard and wearing Magenta robes, just wanted to comfort those left behind, like how she would lean in and whisper into the old man's ear like she was telling him a secret and the old man would smile just so.
Some wanted bloody vengeance, like the writhing mass of souls numbering in the hundreds if not thousands that clung to the woman in the clashing outfit, all the ghosts try to rip and tear at her, trying to punch, kick, pluck out her eyes or choke her, only one young looking female ghost stood apart from the twisting mass of hate, looking on to the woman with an equal measure of pride and horror in the eyes of the female ghost.
And some ghosts, the living cling to, like the man with the hook nose being weighed down by ghostly chains that would drag him to his death if he wasn't careful.
But the boy paid no mind to the dead, because as long as you paid them no mind, the dead would leave you alone, and that's what the boy needed right now. Not to be invisible, just ignored. So after watching the bushy-headed girl walk over to the stool with the neat singing hat, he digs into himself and feels the cold feeling of death spread through his body as he pulls on his mother's divine domain of the dead and became like the ghosts around him, ignored by all, oh, if they had a strong mind they could see past the ability, but if they didn't, they would just forget he was there when they looked away, and that's just what he needed.
So, he stood there, tapping his foot as McGonagall went down the list, he was waiting for the P's to pop up, and when they do a set of twins go before him, Patil if heard correctly but as the last one is sent to the Gryffindor table, the boy prepares himself for his entrance. But the Professor pauses at the next name, and with a sad look in her eyes and lips pressed together in a thin line, she checks off the next name without saying it aloud.
Did she really just…?
But as she says "Rivers, Oliver" the boy almost loses it, this was better than what he had originally planned for, so with renewed patience, the boy waited. As a rule of thumb, the boy hated being the center of attention, he got enough of that about who his mom was, and he hated it. His original plan was to wait till his name was called and then walk forward as if nothing had happened to him, but one had to roll with the punches when they got hit, so he was perfectly fine waiting it out, bit bigger than planned, but whatever.
So as the last name, Zabini, Blaise, was called, the boy dropped the Ghost ability. Not that it had worked all that well from the three pairs of eyes he felt on him, but as the Hat called out Slytherin for Zabini, the boy fought down his grin as he watched Professor McGonagall put the hat on the stool before picking both up and turning to walk his way before stopping as she sees him, the confusion etched on her face was worth all the waiting alone.
"Excuse me, Ma'am," the boy says as innocent and confused as possible, turning his head toward her, "You didn't call my name," the boy says as the Professor openly gapes at him before she side-eyed the old man with the beard.
She slowly looks back to the boy in the witch's hat, blocking her view of his eyes, "And, …" the Professor swallows the lump that had formed in her throat, "And your name, young man?" She asks, as something like a cruel hope begins to blossom in the Professor's eyes.
The boy walks toward her, taking slow and deliberate steps before stopping just before tilting his head up to look her in the eyes, watching her gasp and taking a step back, dropping the stool and hat while placing a hand over her heart as the boy tilts his head and pulls the witches hat off his head, letting the charcoal gray hair fall free as he smiled up at her.
"Harry, Ma'am," the boy said, "Harry Potter,"
The reaction wasn't instant, it started small, like all things, whispers at first but slowly and surely they begin to pick up until it was a cacophony of chaos and sound that defend out all other sounds as the student body begin to almost riot about the reveal, but it ends as quickly as it begone. The old guy with the beard stands before lifting his wand in the air and a sound like a cannon goes off and the student body quiets down before he turns to Professor McGonagall and speaks.
"Minerva," he says, loud enough for everyone to hear him, "it appears that we still have a student to sort, so if you be so kind," before nodding his head slightly.
Professor McGonagall finally snaps out of her shock, as she looks between Harry and the old guy, her mouth opens to say something, but closes her mouth before nodding, "Of course Headmaster," she says.
"Oh, so that's Dumbledore," Harry thinks to himself as he watches as Professor McGonagall sets up the stool again, before taking a seat himself, and before the sorting hat covers his eyes, he sees Hermione looking at him with wide eyes, he winks at her before darkness overtakes over vision.
A wraith in a rotting body.
The boy was alive? No.
No, absolutely not, this was a trick, this had to be a trick. She had killed the boy, she knew she had, it was her last clear memory from that night was the boy falling down dead. But against all logic, the boy was sitting under the hat getting sorted. No, this was a trick, Dumbledore was pulling something, this was all too convenient to her, this was Dumbledore setting up some figurehead, it had to be!
"SLYTHERIN!" Yelled the hat, making the Great Hall fall into absolute silence as the boy took off the hat and hand it back to McGonagall before thanking her, before he starts to walk across the stage, every eye in the Great Hall looking at him, but it was Her that he turns to look at, his head tilts while doing so, as if he was inspecting her, so she does the same, tilting her head as she looks at the same emerald eyes that Lily Potter had, the same that the baby in the crib had and she sees the most damning evidence.
He had the scar, the scar she had given him, carved with her own magic, she would never forget that scar.
And as she looks at the impossible boy looking at her for what felt like hours, he grins at her, and the only one thought that crossed her mind.
"Impossible, only I can live forever…"
Harry slips into his seat at the end of the Slytherin table, chuckling inwardly at the shocked looks on all their faces, he shakes his head. He'd give it a day before he was dragged off to be questioned about where he has been for the past ten years, and he was gonna have fun with it all for as long as he can while trying to learn all this magic stuff. He was dying in two months, he should be allowed to have some fun before he kicks the bucket.
But as Dumbledore calls the school's attention to begin the feast with a few words (Tuck in, Harry had cackled at that,) Harry snorts out a laugh, a school full of kids who could use some good fun, a castle full of ghosts and secrets, and a wraith possessing a corpse?
"Melinoë was wrong," Harry says with a grin as he serves himself some food, "This place is gonna be anything but boring," he tells himself before taking a bite of his roasted chicken.
This was fun to write.
So, in case some of you readers are new to my works, welcome! I'm Kingsaxcul, and welcome to my cringe-ass fanfiction! In this story, we have a rare one, a Son of Persephone, and no, it wasn't James knocking up Persephone, if you want (inserting shameless self-promotion here) go read the last two chapters of my other Fic called "A Midsummer Hunt" they have the set up for this, kinda.
Anyway, like I said this is kinda a one-shot, depending if I feel like continuing it later on because I do want to finish a midsummer hunt first.
Before y'all ask, yes Harry would be kinda OP in this, just not with magic.
Yes, this is a Harry/Female Voldemort story, sue me, I like it.
Yes, I went out of my way to avoid saying Harry's middle name for a reason as it would spoil some things.
yes, I have his powers thought out, they are kinda busted but that's what I'm going for so, meh.
Did I make Harry a bit too arrogant? I wanted to make him confident but not arrogant. He knows what he is, he knows what he can do, and he wasn't left at the Dursleys in this one. So I want to make him into this fun-loving kid who loves to pull a few pranks for the shocked looks he would get to see.