Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Bloody Skies	By : TokiMirage Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 44832 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: JKRowling owns Harry Potter. Everything else is mine. I do not make any money writing this fic.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Bloody Skies
oOo
Chapter Four:
oOo
“Come on, Potter! There must be something you can do besides stand there! Think!”
Harry glared. “I don’t know what to do! You’ve been throwing that bloody spell at me for the past two weeks! Nothing’s changed!”
Snape glared right back. “Don’t yell at me because of your own incompetence.”
Harry bit his tongue to the point it bled. Snape was just so… so… infuriating! ‘I can yell at you, but you can’t yell at me, and I can get frustrated with you, but you have to sit back and take my ridicule!’
Harry gripped at his hair, just about ready to rip it out. He hated Occlumency. He loathed it. Why couldn’t it come as easily to him as wandless magic had? If it had, he wouldn’t be in this same situation, the situation he was always in! Harry sucks; Snape yells.
He closed his eyes and just tried to relax. The breath he took in was far shakier than he would have liked. He felt his magic’s flow, and let it lull him into a more relaxed state.
“Explain your concept to me again. Use different words, or something. Just explain it in a different way. You’re not that great at explaining things, Snape! Is that why you just leave your students alone to figure it out instead of teaching them how potions work?” When Snape looked ready to bite his head off, he bit back a hasty apology. It wasn’t like he was wrong.
Snape poured himself another full glass of wine (or it could be blood) into his goblet. He took a swig and fell rather gracefully into his armchair. Pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off a headache, he glared up at Harry. He gave his words a moment of thought.
“Our minds can be whatever we imagine them to be. My mind is like Hogwarts. It is incredibly large and complex, and it is easy to get lost in the multiple corridors, changing hallways, and moving rooms. Like Hogwarts, my mind has wards. I perceive them like a shield, or a wall, that surrounds my mind and protects it from attacks. If it is Voldemort reading my mind, as he does with all of his servants, then I do not aim to defend, I aim to hide. I hide memories that I do not wish for him to witness in rooms that cannot be found, or I create false memories so that Voldemort sees what he wants to see. Our minds are not unlike… a chess board. We have the advantage of home ground, but if you are against an enemy who has stronger knights or bishops than you, or has a mind more attune to strategy than yours, that advantage is lost.”
Green eyes squinted at him in thought. “So you’re saying… make my mind like an impenetrable fortress.”
Snape nodded. “Except that it does not need to be a castle to be a fortress.” Harry frowned. “Do you understand?”
Lips quirked in a small grin. “I think, maybe I do.”
“Good.” Snape stood from his chair and floated his goblet onto a side table. “Then let us continue.”
“No.”
The vampire ceased his movement. His eyebrow twitched. “And what exactly do you mean by that, Potter?”
Harry just smiled and headed upstairs to his room. “I’m gonna go build me a fortress.”
oOo
It wasn’t nearly as easy as it sounded, to be completely honest. How does one build a fortress in one’s own mind? Wave a wand and say “Abra Cadabra”? Okay, that was a bad joke.
Lying back on his bed, he took a deep breath and let himself plummet into his magic. He zipped through the now-familiar pathway to his mind and slipped into the complicated webbing. He imagined his mindscape and smiled when the graveyard fleshed out before his eyes instead of the confusing maze of lines. He blinked. What a brilliant idea! Closing his eyes, he imagined the graveyard turning into a gigantic maze, above and below ground, taking advantage of the tombs and creating an underground labyrinth of the dead; booby traps and everything.
He opened his eyes and frowned. It didn’t look any different. His eyebrow twitched.
Okay, perhaps imagining doesn’t work… What happened to all that ‘power of the mind’ crap? He scowled and threw a reducto curse at the nearest headstone. It blew up spectacularly, and he collapsed to the ground in pain. Cursing, he gripped his head and trembled on the cold and dirty ground. That hurt more than when Snape attacked him. He forced the illusion of the graveyard to fall away and reveal the structure, the webbing from which it was composed, and gaped at the damage. The web was made up of several intricate lines, and often those lines came together and formed a knot.
He’d blown one of those things up. Holy shit. Quickly funneling magic to the damaged webbing, he aimed to heal what felt like a hole in his mind. The magic pulsed and glowed, growing the ends of the web and attaching them together again. He examined the knot and the ones around it. From what he could tell, memories were stored in each one, and whatever had been in that one was lost forever. Hopefully it wasn’t anything too important.
Was that why it was so easy for Snape to look at his memories? They were quite obviously in the open, and all he had to do was cruise from one to the next to get a good show. Holy… If that was true, then he needed to find a way to hide his whole mind web.
Floating outside the web of his mind, he surveyed the view and wondered how he was going to go about hiding this gigantic thing in a maze. ‘Hmm… size is relative in the non-physical world, isn’t it?’ He willed his mind to shrink to the size of small rock.
It was slow going, the web just didn’t want to obey him, but eventually he retracted the plentiful web until it was the size of a small boulder. Then, with a shred of deviousness, he sunk the thing into his core. Snape said that when he fell into his magic, it was like his mind disappeared. So they’d never be able to read his memories.
With a grin, he returned to the real world.
oOo
Remus came home with a bright smile and a bag of food. Harry quickly forgot Snape existed and snatched the bag, taking it into the kitchen to make supper. There was nothing in the house but bread and peanut butter, so he was still hungry from his rather unsatisfying lunch. And it was a good excuse to escape the vampire’s wrath.
Remus smiled and started to prepare a pot of coffee. “So, how did training go today?” he asked in an attempt to crack the tension in the room.
Snape grudgingly sat down at the table. “Potter has been getting closer.”
Harry turned around and glared. “Close? You haven’t even tried to read my mind today! I told you I figured out how to keep you out, but you were completely focused on your potions experiment.”
Snape twitched. “Very well. Let’s test your shields now, shall we?” Without further ado, he muttered the spell. Harry stared into the dark eyes and blinked when nothing happened. Two black eyebrows furrowed. “There is nothing there. The last time that occurred, you were comatose.”
Harry grinned. “See? It works.”
Snape’s lip twitched. “Congratulations Potter. You can go outside now.”
Harry turned back to the dinner he was preparing. “Does this mean we can start looking for a school for me to go to next fall?”
“I already have you enrolled.”
Harry nearly cut his finger off when his knife slipped. He turned around and barely held himself back from gaping at the smug look on Snape’s face. “S-since when?”
“Since the day you walked out on our Occlumency lesson with that smug little grin on your face. I knew it wouldn’t be long before you figured something out.” Snape smirked.
Harry stared. “Which school?”
Snape sipped on a glass of wine that Harry just realized had been sitting on the table. He didn’t know when the vampire had went and got it, but he supposed it didn’t really matter. It was just a way that Snape could prolong the agony and suspense by sipping away at it. Argh!
“The school is called Shikaan. I left Hogwarts to go there for my sixth year, but found it not to my liking, so I returned for my seventh.”
Harry leaned back against the counter. “So why do you think I’ll like it?”
Snape examined him with his eyes, and Harry couldn’t say he liked how Snape just seemed to know. “You will like it there. It will not be easy, but you have the power, and the will, to carve yourself a niche at that school. I had neither.”
Harry stared at him incredulously. “No power? No will? You seem to have plenty to me.”
Snape shook his head. “You don’t understand. This school is a multi-racial institution. Vampires and werewolves make up the majority, and humans are among the minority. It was a lot different for me as a vampire there, because I was never a natural Occlumens, and the vampire society is all about power in the hierarchy, and being stuck at the bottom is something you never want.” Snape stared down into his wine, refusing to meet Harry’s eyes. “Among humans you may think my Occlumency is strong, and my power great, but among vampires… I would have never been able to get past first year.”
A thoughtful silence ensued. Harry balked at the thought that Snape wasn’t strong enough. The vampire was in Voldemort’s inner circle. His knowledge of potions was as legendary as his hatred of children. He could cast all of the Unforgivables, and knew a slew of other dark spells that Harry would probably never learn. He wasn’t powerful enough? “What kind of power are we talking about?”
Snape looked up at the question, and his eyes widened imperceptibly at the cunning look he had never seen on Harry’s face before, but had suspected the boy was capable of. He suppressed a relieved sigh. The Potter that he had known at Hogwarts would never have survived a day at Shikaan, but the Harry that he had gotten to know the past couple months… He would survive. In fact, Snape was certain he would thrive. His lips turned upwards the slightest bit, before narrowing sternly. “There are many kinds of power. At Shikaan, the ones that matter most are the power you hold over others and over yourself: your power of influence, your mental abilities, and your magical power. My strengths do not fall in any of these categories.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “And you think I have these?”
“In spades.” When Harry looked taken aback, Snape smirked. “You have been molded into becoming a leader since you were eleven, Potter. And although at first you showed no aptitude for it, you have adapted, as proven by your Defense Association last year. You have never been strong at the mental arts, but in the past month you have worked around your inability to defend your mind and instead hid it, while distracting interlopers with a cleverly designed and indestructible maze. And finally, your magic. You learned how to cast a corporeal Patronus when you were thirteen, something most adults never learn, and yet you struggled to figure out a simple Accio charm two years later. And I know no one has ever explained why this is to you. You have a strong aptitude for near impossible spells because of the power requirements for them, and the reason it takes you so long to learn the simple spells is because you put too much magic into them.”
Harry stared. Had Snape just bestowed upon him the biggest compliment ever? Mental system crash. Reboot. Huh? “Huh.” He really didn’t know what to say to all of that.
Remus smiled at the gob smacked looked on Harry’s face, and the hidden pride in Snape’s. The two were really starting to get along.
“It will be difficult for you at Shikaan, but I am in full confidence that you will adapt. Now that you have a method of Occlumency learned, we can begin shopping for your supplies.”
Harry snapped out of his stupor. “Wait. Shopping already? Isn’t it too late to start school this year?”
Snape shook his head. “I have already been in contact with the Headmistress. She will be ready to accept you whenever.”
“But how?”
Snape gave him a weird look. “She’s the Headmistress.” He said it like it explained everything.
Harry frowned. Maybe it did?
oOo
“First things first, you need a disguise. You can’t go to Diagon Alley looking like Harry Potter or people might start harassing you for autographs,” Remus joked, a bright smile on his rather haggard-looking face. Harry didn’t laugh. “You’ll need a new identity, as well. Have you given much thought to what you want to change your name to?”
Harry blinked. Oh. You know, he hadn’t even considered that. ‘Duh. Harry Potter is a little obvious,’ he scolded himself. Now, he needed a name… a name… James? Nah, too obvious. No family connections…
“Cyrus Obsidian.”
Both Remus and Harry turned to Snape in surprise. “You’ve thought of this?”
Snape looked offended. “Of course. He can’t very well go around calling himself Harry Potter. The Order would kidnap him in an instant, or worse, the Death Eaters would kill him.”
“Why Cyrus Obsidian?” Harry asked, curious.
“My great grandfather, Cyrus Snape, was the only neutral wizard in the Snape family in the past three centuries. He studied both Dark Arts, and Light Arts, and was partial to neither. And Obsidian is… in respect to the mutt.” And with that said, Snape turned around and left the room.
Remus smiled. “How thoughtful.”
Harry blinked and stared after the vampire. “Yeah…”
“Do you like it, Harry?”
Harry watched Snape pause in the doorway to his office. He smiled. “Yeah.” The door closed, and Harry grinned. “Cyrus Obsidian. I could get used to the sound of that.”
“Now that you have a new name, you need a new look. I’ve always wondered what you’d look like with blond hair.”
Cyrus stared at Remus in horror. “No… anything but Malfoy hair.”
The werewolf laughed. “Not platinum blond, but dirty blond. It’s more natural-looking anyway.”
Cyrus pouted. “Why the hair?”
“It’s either that or the eyes. Would you rather keep your black hair, or your mother’s eyes?” Remus smiled gently at the look on Cyrus’s face. “See? Blond it is. We also have to move your scar into your hairline. That’s going to be a tricky bit of magic. Severus will be doing that after I change your hair. After that, we’re going shopping.”
Cyrus raised an eyebrow. “Shopping? For my school supplies?”
“No, Severus is going to take you to get those once you pick your courses.”
“What? Why?”
“Because we don’t want you going into Gemini Square alone until you can defend yourself. We’re going to Diagon Alley to get clothes for you, a new wand, books that you want to study from, a hair cut, earrings, tattoos, whatever you want. We need to get rid of your glasses, too. He’ll probably take you to an eye healer.” Remus smiled. “I know you’ve never had the chance to go shopping for the sake of shopping, so that’s what we’re going to do today. There, all done.”
Cyrus blinked. “Huh?”
Remus smiled innocently. “Your hair. You’re now a natural blond.”
Cyrus’s hands jumped to his hair and pulled a couple strands out. Blond. Very blond. He wanted to cry.
“Maybe we should give you a tan, too.”
“What?!”
“It’s all to make you less recognizable, Har- Cyrus. We’re going to teach you these spells before you go to school, too.”
“How come we never learned these at Hogwarts?”
Remus grinned mischievously. “Because the Ministry considers them Dark, even though there’s nothing Dark about them. They just don’t want people making it impossible for the Ministry to identify them, so they’ve been labeled to be ‘evil’. Most disguises are just illusions to change looks, but what we’re doing is actually changing your physical body to something else. And… there. Now you’re tan.”
Cyrus held his hands up and stared at them. They looked like someone else’s. But he supposed that was the point. He just wasn’t used to it yet.
“Severus!”
Cyrus snapped out of his thoughts. Next was the scar. “Is this going to hurt?”
Remus smiled. “Of course not.”
Of course, Cyrus should have realized that since Remus wasn’t actually casting the spell, he had no idea. But he didn’t realize. So when Snape finally stopped his archaic chanting and put his wand to Cyrus’s forehead, he was completely unprepared for the agony that ripped through his forehead for what felt like hours before finally stopping. Remus caught him before he hit the ground.
“Bastard…” Cyrus grumbled, almost passing out from all the endorphins and adrenaline running through his system.
Snape chuckled. “It’s called dark magic for a reason, Po- Obsidian. It was worth it, wasn’t it?” He held up a mirror, and Cyrus couldn’t help but stare at his new face. He was completely unrecognizable, except for the eyes. The eyes of Harry Potter stared back at him, the new Cyrus Obsidian. He grinned.
“Time to go shopping.”
oOo
The first stop was, of course, Gringotts. You needed money to spend money. The goblin that he went to didn’t believe he was Harry Potter, because of the physical changes and the glasses he had taken off before entering Diagon Alley, so he had to provide a blood sample to prove he was of the Potter bloodline. Remus’s silencing spell kept their dealings secret. He didn’t know what happened to his key, but it probably got melted in the fire that burned all of his other belongings.
“Out of curiosity, can someone other than a Potter get into my vault if they have my key?” Cyrus asked the goblin, trying to be polite.
The goblin didn’t take the question very well. “Goblins keep wizards’ gold safe, Mr. Potter,” it growled, a scowl flashing long teeth and devious eyes. “It was stated specifically in the will of Mr. and Mrs. Potter that only their child had access to their vaults and upon his death or the creation of his own will it was to be divided according to their wishes.”
Cyrus did a double take. “Wait. What? Vaults? As in plural? As in having more than one?”
He couldn’t see very well, but a blind man couldn’t have missed the snide look the goblin sent him. “The caretaker of the key, one Albus Dumbledore was obligated to inform you of your family vaults, Mr. Potter. The trust was set aside for you until you reached majority, upon which time you will have full access.”
“Full access… Does that mean I have partial access now?”
The goblin grinned approvingly, flashing vicious teeth. “Yes. The gold is to remain in the vaults until your majority, but you are authorized to remove whatever other items as you please.”
Cyrus grinned back at Remus. “What do you think is in there?”
Remus smiled. “Knowing your parents, there’s furniture, portraits, books, weapons, jewels, and more books.”
“Perfect.” He turned back to the goblin. “I’d like to be taken to all of my vaults today, the trust first.”
“Of course, Mr. Potter.” With a snap of the wrist, the goblin dismantled Remus’s silencing ward like it was child’s play. “Goblebrook!”
A stocky little goblin appeared out of nowhere, a scowl on his face and a limp to his steps. The goblin at the counter handed him a newly made key. “All vaults, trust first.”
Goblebrook nodded and limped off, nary a look behind him. Cyrus and Remus followed the slow pace without comment.
oOo
At his trust vault, Cyrus put his glasses back on and filled three never-ending pouches, supplied by the goblins, with each of the coins. The trip to the family vaults, however, was much longer, much deeper, and god forbid the cart moved even faster. Was that a dragon?
If it weren’t for all the flying he’d done playing Quidditch, he might have puked like Remus. Luckily he was used to a couple Gs. It was a close call though.
“There are three family vaults. One has gold, one has furniture, jewels, and portraits, and the other has books. Which would you like to visit first?” the little goblin asked, his nasal voice grating on even the most resistant eardrums.
“Furniture.” Remus raised an eyebrow at him. “What?” he asked defensively. “I’m hoping there’s a trunk to put all my stuff in.”
“Ah.”
It turned out there was a trunk. Or twenty. Most of them were already full. One of the smaller ones was actually full of filing folders concerning properties that the Potter families owned. He had his own cabin on the coast of the Caribbean! How cool was that?
The one he ended up picking was old. Very old. And the only unadorned trunk in the room. It would have been sketchy to go around carrying a traditional Potter trunk with family shield and gold embossment. It was completely black, except for steel hinges and a flat panel on the front. Curiously, he touched the panel, wondering how it opened. As soon as his finger touched it, his entire hand was yanked down to lay flat on the surface. He felt a sharp prick, and the trunk opened. He yanked his hand back and kicked the lid open in revenge. Feeling foolish, he peered over the edge and gaped at the gigantic hole in the ground. Wow. How deep did the thing go?
Holding his hand over the hole, he called up a glowing ball of light and sent it slowly floating down. The light revealed a ladder, and a drop of about ten feet. “Hey Remus,” he called, getting the werewolf’s attention from where he was looking at portraits and the other odds and ends of the room. “I’m going to check out the trunk, kay?” He didn’t wait for a response before climbing over the edge and down the ladder.
The light was waiting for him at the bottom, but it wasn’t strong enough to light more than a few feet in front of him. Feeding it a little magic, it grew until lit the room wall to wall. It was a huge… empty space. Stone floor, stone walls… stone nothingness. He figured he could probably put bookcases and other stuff in here. Did trunks have limited supplies of air? Or did he just need to leave the lid open? What happened if someone closed the lid on him in here?
“Hey Remus!”
“Cyrus? Are you okay down there?”
“Close the lid!”
“Are you sure that’s safe?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
Reluctantly, Remus pulled the lid shut. It closed and then banged back open again, nearly smacking the werewolf in the face. “Interesting,” he muttered to himself. He closed it again and used his werewolf strength to hold it shut. It stayed closed for less than a second before snapping open again and throwing him a few feet away. As Remus dusted his sore bottom, he leaned over the side and called, “I think it’s safe.”
Cyrus grinned mischievously up at him. “I think so too. Thanks.” He climbed out and gently shut the lid. It stayed closed. “I think it likes me,” he said cheekily. Remus just glared.
“Does it have a shrinking feature?”
“Huh?”
“Most trunks with special features, like huge underground rooms, are also given a shrinking feature.”
Cyrus stared curiously at the trunk. He walked a full circle around it and didn’t see any obvious buttons labeled ‘shrink’. Cautiously, he put his hand on the panel. Nothing happened. “Open.” It opened. Huh. He closed it. Put his hand on it. “Shrink.” It shrank. “An idiot-proof trunk. I think I like it.”
Remus just laughed.
oOo
After spending close to three hours piling his trunk full of the books from the other vault, with the help of Remus, who had to transfigure quite a few bookshelves, they finally escaped to the surface again. The first stop they made was the eye healers. The man didn’t recognize him without his scar and glasses, and after paying 20 galleons they went on to Ollivander’s.
Cyrus had to admit he didn’t miss the weight on his nose.
“Good evening, gentleman,” the old man spooked them, appearing out of nowhere.
Remus smiled. “Hello again, Ollivander.”
“Hello Remus. Eleven inches, pine, and hair of a unicorn. Quite stiff handling. How is the handling?”
“Good as ever, sir. This here is Cyrus Obsidian. His last wand was…” Remus frowned. “What did they do your wand? He never did tell me.”
Cyrus looked away. Images of Hedwig and the pile of ash flickered through his head. “They burned it.”
“Oh my.” Ollivander looked absolutely beside himself. With sorrow or anger Cyrus wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “What was the core? Depending on its qualities, it could have survived intact.”
Green eyes widened. It couldn’t be… “Phoenix tail feather.”
“A phoenix is only susceptible to its own flame. You should have found the feather in the ash of the wood.”
“But…” Blood flashed across his vision. “There was so much ash… I didn’t look…” He looked to Remus. “Do you think… he found the feather? And kept it?”
Remus wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t know. He never said anything about ash. What ash?”
“They… He… burned all of my school supplies and killed my owl.”
Tawny eyes widened and met his own. “The old coot never mentioned that. I thought you’d kept your wand and Hedwig, and everything else had been put in a safe place.”
Ollivander interrupted the awkward silence that really needed interrupting. “If you brought me the feather, I could fashion a new wand for you quite easily enough. In the meantime, did you want a replacement?”
Cyrus was furious with himself. Why didn’t he think to check? Now Dumbledore had the bloody thing and he would never give it back unless Harry came crawling back to him. Argh! He’d have to steal it from the old goat. How was he going to find where it was hidden?
“Cyrus?” Remus placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get it back. No matter how long it takes. But you need a wand.”
The blonde suppressed frustrated tears and nodded his head, not trusting himself to speak.
Ollivander took this as his cue and started pulling down boxes. Cyrus had a bad feeling that this was going to go the same way it did last time, except this time without the lucky break of a phoenix feather at the end. He picked up the first with his right hand, and it felt wrong. Really wrong. The wand nearly exploded in his hand, it jumped out so fast.
“Oh dear.” The three of them stared at the hole in the ceiling that had been a wand. “Very well. No standard wands for you. And use your left hand.”
Cyrus blinked. “What?”
Ollivander snatched back the next wand before he could grab it. “Left hand. Your right hand is highly attuned to a specific wand. It may be easier to find something compatible with the left.”
“Oh.” Cyrus despondently lowered his right and seized the wand with his left. It didn’t explode, but it wasn’t very happy to be there. The counter lit on fire.
“No good. You may be one of the trickiest customers, Mr. Obsidian. I wonder…” Ollivander trailed off in thought.
“Wonder what?”
“Will you break Harry Potter’s record of most disagreeable?”
Cyrus laughed nervously. Considering who he was, he figured it was inevitable. “I hope not.”
They got through the entire stock without a single hit. Some of the wands would rather combust than be in Cyrus’s hand, and so scorch marks blemished almost every surface.
“It is as I feared.”
Cyrus’s mind started filling in the blanks. You can never have another wand. There will never been another match for you. I’m sorry for your lo-
“I’ll have to custom-make one.”
Green eyes blinked. “Really?” Did he just hear a hopeful squeak in his voice? He hoped not.
Ollivander got a gleam of devious interest. “I’m intrigued as to what your wand will be. Follow me to the back.” It was a short walk. Ollivander held the door open and Cyrus walked past. “Grab whatever feels right, and knock on the door when you’re done.” And with that said, he closed the door in the blonde’s face.
Cyrus turned around and stared around the room. It was rather large for a storage room. A table sat in the middle with many strange tools sitting on top. Many strange jars lined the shelves of the room to the left, sticks sat against the wall on the right, and right across from him was a mixture of both. Huh. Curiously, he walked the circumference of the room, and nothing really popped out at him. Well, a few of the sticks were kind of cool looking oh who was he kidding? He didn’t know what he was looking for. With a sigh, he leaned against the table and relaxed, taking a couple breaths. He felt his magic spread warily past his skin and blinked in surprise. It was… feeling up the ingredients? Huh.
It pulled him towards the left shelf, and his eyes alighted on a jar of dark liquid, unlabeled. He reached for it and snapped his hand back when the jar stung it. Then he remembered. Lowering his right hand, his dominant hand, he reached for the jar with his left, and flinched expectantly when he touched the jar. Nothing happened. With a relieved breath, he plucked it from the shelf and returned to the table. He let himself relax again, holding the jar, and felt his magic lead him towards the sticks. His eyes were drawn to a long stick of a dark wood, though he couldn’t name it if he tried. He picked it up with his left hand, which was quite awkward considering he was still holding the jar. He managed, and they felt right in his hand. Smiling, he walked back to the door and knocked.
Ollivander came bustling into the room with an excited look on his face. “What did you pick? What did you pick?”
Cyrus held out his left hand and the wand maker gently took them from him. He held up the jar to the light and his eyebrows climbed into his hairline. “Dementor’s blood and ebony. My, you are tricky.” He smiled brightly and got out his measuring tape. It was measuring him in all the strange places while Ollivander examined the stick intensely. “Curious… Very curious, indeed.”
Cyrus got an annoying sense of déjà vu. “What’s curious?”
Ollivander smiled at him, and it was creepy. “Dementor’s blood indicates that you have close ties with death, and ebony embodies pure, unadulterated power. You will one day be very adept at death magic, Mr. Obsidian.”
Cyrus paled. “As in the Avada Kedavra curse?”
Ollivander laughed. “Oh dear no. Death magic, Mr. Obsidian. Contact with the dead. If I may suggest, it would be best that you take Necromancy at the school you’re going to. If you don’t learn to control this wand, it will control you some day.” Before Cyrus could respond, he continued. “Now! Why don’t you come back in an hour so I can put this wand together for you?” And with that said, he bustled them right out of his shop and flipped the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’.
Remus and Cyrus shared a look. “Well, what would you like to do first? Clothes and a haircut? Books? Quidditch supplies?”
“Haircut… I think.”
Remus nodded and led him down the street to a store that Cyrus had never noticed before. Of course, he’d never been in Diagon Alley before just for sightseeing. It was always about the school supplies. He felt kind of relieved to not have to worry about that this year.
The hair salon they walked into was small. There were only two chairs, and one of them was occupied. The girl blowing bubbles at the counter waved happily at them. It popped. “Whatcha in for today?” she asked around the gum, trying to get it all back in her mouth.
“J-just a cut.” Cyrus had never been in a salon before. Whenever Petunia had tried to cut his hair, she had always destroyed it, and then it would be back to normal the next day. If he actually liked the cut, would it stay? Or would it grow back to the length he seemed to be cursed with?
She popped another bubble. “Simon’ll be done in another coupla minutes. You wanna wait over there?” she gestured at the short lineup of stools along the wall. Harry spotted a couple magazines sitting on a small table between them. He picked up the one on top and started flipping through it. Did girls really have so many options open to them? Bloody hell. He picked up the only mag with a guy’s face and started flipping through it. Short cut, short cut, semi-long cut… Did he want it longer than he already had it, or shorter? He figured at a magic hair salon they probably had hair growth potions. So he could do whatever he wanted, couldn’t he? Hm…
“Alright, hop on up, sugar,” the stylist cooed with a wink. Cyrus blanched.
Cyrus took the long way around to get to the chair, dodging the gay-vibes American hair stylist. Gingerly sitting down in the chair, he watched the guy in the mirror with hawk eyes.
“How ya doing today, love? What kinda cut did ya want?”
Cyrus stared. “Shorter.”
Simon gave him a funny look. “Shorter? Have anything particular in mind?”
Cyrus gave him a weird look. “You’re the hair stylist.”
The lanky man grinned. “Oh my, the words tha’ stole ma heart!” he cooed. “Beware sugar; I am taken, though I could be convinced.” He gave a saucy wink.
If Cyrus had hackles… ‘Can we get this over with?’ he pleaded to whatever gods were out there. “Shorter, please.”
“Right ta business, are we? Weeeell.” And with that, the stylist did a little wand waving to get his hair clean and wet then did the rest of his voodoo with scissors. Cyrus stared forlornly at the bits of blond hair that landed on the floor. He closed his eyes.
“Oh dear.”
His eyes flashed open. “What?!” Had he fucked up already?!
“Dear, if ya don’t trust someone ta cut ya hair, don’t come to a hair stylist. How c’n I cut ya hair if you jus’ grow it back?!” Simon complained dramatically, making it sound as if Cyrus had done him a personal injustice by coming here.
Cyrus stared at his hair in the mirror. His hair looked the same as before. Oh, that was the problem. He sighed, and prepared to get off the chair.
“Now you jus’ wait a mo’, sugar.” Lanky hands clamped down on his shoulders and held him in place. Serious blue eyes met his in the mirror. “I c’n understand why ya nervous, but gettin’ ya hair cut ain’t a scary thing. Did yo’ ma cut it ta bits when ya were a kid?”
Cyrus twitched. “Something like that.”
“How ‘bout we try this one mo’ time? You close yo’ eyes. Relax. I’ll tell ya when I’m done. If ya don’ like it, it’ll jus’ grow itself back. No harm, no foul.” His hands gently kneaded Cyrus’s shoulders, and the endearing look on the man’s face relaxed him a bit. He wasn’t some evil devil here to cut all his hair off, he was just trying to get laid – er, paid. The mental joke cheered him up.
“Okay.”
He kept his eyes clenched shut, wincing with each snip, but not looking, not hoping to god that it’d grow back. He had to see it first. Had to decide if it sucked or not. Oh god why did he come here? This really wasn’t his thing, what if the guy cut off too much? What if he had a bald spot he’d never known was there?
What if-
“Done.”
Cyrus peeked open one eye, slowly. Then they both snapped open, and he couldn’t help but stare. The stylist had turned his crow-nest hair into a stylish mess. A stylish short mess. He turned his head from side to side, ran his hair through the inch-long spikes on top. He smiled. It looked good. Really good.
“Now that has got to be the sexiest, rumpled, just-got-out-of-bed look I’ve ever seen,” the girl at the counter stared at him. “Can I get your floo?”
Cyrus turned to Remus, a hopeful expression on his face. The tawny-haired werewolf grinned at him. “Looking great, cub.” He ruffled the stylish blond mess. Cyrus beamed.
Simon leaned woozily against the wall. “The love fills this room,” he sighed contently. “Another masterpiece.” He kissed the air. “Ya lucky, kid. Ya don’ even hafta put potions in to get tha’ look. I know people whoda kill for tha’ hair.”
Cyrus smiled. “How much do I owe you?”
“A night at ma place.”
Cyrus blanched.
Simon sighed. “It was worth a try. Pay Cindy-baby there 12 sickles.”
Cyrus divvied out the dough and beat it out of there. He ran a hand through his short locks and smiled. It would be much easier to deal with this short. Longer on top and short on the sides… He liked it. It hadn’t been as bad as Petunia’s attempts. Aside from the creepy gay dude. He had nice blue eyes, but he was just so… out there. “Was that about an hour?”
Remus laughed. “Want your new wand? I think we still have half an hour to kill. How about we get you some new clothes? And Severus told me I had to take you for a fitting at this place in Knockturn before the day ends. Which do you want to do first?”
Cyrus frowned. “A fitting? What for?”
“Body armor.”
Green eyes flew wide open. “Armor? Why would I need armor?”
Remus smiled sadly. “You’re going to Shikaan, Cyrus. This isn’t going to be a walk in the park. You’re going to need protection.”
“Let’s go for the fitting.”
oOo
Knockturn Alley was a dark and dreary as Cyrus remembered it from second year, when he’d accidentally popped into a store that dealt in… questionable items. With Remus beside him, the leers and creepy old ladies weren’t so creepy though. Ha! I have a werewolf! Try and attack me now, weirdos!
The quaint little shop Remus led him to, didn’t seem like anything special, but then again the whole alley was that way. The inside was certainly more inviting. Metal-plated armor lined the walls, along with some weird full-body suits.
“Evening, gentleman. What can I do for you?”
“We’re here for a fitting.” Remus stepped in front of Cyrus slightly.
The man standing in the middle of the room chuckled. “Really now. You have an appointment?”
“Yes, in fact I do.”
The man looked surprised. “Who told you to come here?”
“Severus Snape.”
Recognition flashed in beady little eyes. “Ah, Snape. Right, come this way please.” He led them into the back. “Snape said that he was sending in a project for us. Full body armor, designed to stretch for growth, made of an as-yet undetermined material. So, first things first, what do you want it made of? Dragon skin, basilisk skin, acromantula silk, thestral skin?”
Cyrus blinked. “You have all of those?”
The man laughed. “God no. All our customers provide their own supplies. Snape said that you had a real gem for us to work with.” The man got a gleam in his black eyes.
Cyrus frowned. “Now what would he have…” His eyes widened. No. How would Snape have known about that? Then again, he had been rifling around in Cyrus’s mind for the past two months. How could he not know about it? “Right… it’ll be basilisk.”
The man grinned. “What breed?”
Cyrus frowned. “I don’t know, actually. I’ll have to come back with the skin… I’m not sure how I’m going to skin it…”
Two sets of eyebrows rose. “What? You have a fully intact basilisk?”
Cyrus laughed nervously. “Long story. Snape will take care of it. Now, we’re here for a fitting? Where are the measuring tapes?”
The man frowned. “Flander doesn’t do measuring tape. I’ll be taking a full body statue carving of you. This way it will perfectly fit the contours of your body.”
“Flander? Are you Flander?”
The man laughed. “God no. I just man the little lady’s shop. People don’t like to buy weapons or armor from girls. For some reason they think it’s of lower quality than that of a man’s, which is complete bollocks. Flander’s the best in Britain, perhaps even the world. She’s worth every galleon.” He got a dreamy look in his eyes. Cyrus figured he had just a teensy weensy crush.
The full-body casting didn’t take much time at all, it was a quick spell. Next all he had to do was choose the design.
“Do you know what kind of weapons you’re fighting with, or going to fight with?”
Cyrus blinked. “Er… no.”
The man wrote something down. “You may have to come back for a specially designed sheath or attachment, then. Otherwise standard designs for dagger sheaths and other hidden pockets for hidden surprises apply. Flander likes to design her armor to best suit her customer’s needs and fighting style, so if you know any more when you drop off the skin, be sure to mention it.”
Cyrus nodded, paid the man a down payment for the designs and commitment, and left.
“It’s been an hour, right?”
Remus had trouble containing his mirth all the way back to Ollivander's.
There were two people inside when Remus and Cyrus showed up, but Ollivander was quick to excuse himself and rush to their side. He pulled a slim, long wand case from his vest with a strange glint in his eyes. “Mr. Obsidian. I think you will be very happy with your new wand.” He lifted the cover off the case and Cyrus couldn’t help but stare at the sheer length of the thing. “I had to make a custom case to fit this wand. It’s a grand total of fifteen inches, the longest wand that I have ever made. It refused to be shortened to even the standard thirteen, so I’m afraid you will have to get used to the odd handling of a wand longer than it should be designed to be.”
Cyrus stared at the black, carefully crafted shaft and shakily reached out a hand to grasp it. As soon as his left hand met the wand, the light in the room flickered, and shadows grew from the floor for just a moment, before receding and settling. He waved it experimentally, and rather awkwardly, considering he wasn’t used to casting with his left hand. Red, purple, and black fireworks burst from the tip, and he could have sworn it purred under his fingers.
Ollivander sighed dreamily in content, seeing wand and master bond successfully.
“It’s perfect. How much do I owe you?”
“It’s 20 galleons for the ingredients. I won’t charge you for the labor. I thoroughly enjoyed myself.” Ollivander literally beamed at them. “Thank you for your business, Mr.… Obsidian.” He winked.
Cyrus stared. “Um… Can I get two wand hostlers on top of that?”
“Leg or arm?”
“One of each.”
Cyrus happily paid him, ignoring the stares of the two other customers, and left the shop.
“What do you want to do now?” Remus asked.
Cyrus grinned. “Screw clothes. I want to go cast some magic.”
oOo
Cyrus wanted to look for his phoenix feather when he and Snape went to the Chamber of Secrets for the basilisk, but the vampire absolutely refused. “I can’t dismantle Dumbledore’s wards undetected, what makes you think you can, Po- Obsidian? Perhaps if you study hard enough this year you could dent them.”
This was, of course, extremely disheartening, but he didn’t really have a choice. And in the meantime, he had another wand, even though he had to get used to doing all the motions backwards. He blew up a chair with a failed Wingardium Leviosa. Snape had sent him to practice in his room after that. It took him a couple days to relearn all of the spells he could remember from school, but after all the trouble he felt much better for it. He wasn’t a sitting duck anymore. It was a good feeling.
The day after they dropped off the basilisk skin for Flander, Snape had Cyrus picking out his courses for the coming year.
To the student in question:
The Shikaan Institute is a vigorous and difficult school. A variety of courses are offered and a few are mandatory, but for the most part students are allowed to go in whichever academic direction they so choose. It is recommended not to take more than four courses aside from the core, and not all courses listed are available to first years. Please note that humans are not the majority at this facility and as such students may have difficulties keeping up with their classmates. If you are interested, please indicate which courses you would like to take and sign the bottom of the page with your signature and a drop of your blood. Please note that the name you write is the name that will be on your graduation certificate.
Headmistress Kyranes
Mandatory courses:
Charms
Dark Arts and Their Defense
Weapons and Battle
Other courses:
Ancient History
Animagus Lessons (1) Yes
Arithmancy
Astronomy
Caring for Magical Creatures
Elemental Magic (2)
Healing Yes
Herbology
History of Magic
Interracial Relations
Metalsmithing
Necromancy (2) Yes
Potions
Ritual Magic (3)
Runes Yes
Spell Crafting (4)
Study of Ancient Magic
Transfiguration
Wandless Magic Yes
1 – Please note this is a part time course taken only as long as the student requires
2 – Please note that only those with the aptitude may take this course
3 – Please note that first year Potions is a prerequisite for Ritual Magic
4 – Please note that first and second year Runes is a prerequisite for Spell Crafting
Thank you for choosing the Shikaan Institute.
So many courses. It was so hard to choose what not to do. Though he figured he could always pick up another course in a couple years. He couldn’t wait to start! Maybe that Runes course would help him with that weird sight of his? And Necromancy… he wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but Ollivander was an old and experienced wizard. What reason would he have to steer Cyrus wrong?
The next day Snape took him to Shikaan so they could submit his course selection and get the list of supplies they would need for those courses. He side-along apparated them, and the squeezing sensation was greater than Cyrus had ever experienced before. When they finally landed, nearly knocking Cyrus off his feet, he couldn’t help but stare at the sight in front of him.
Shikaan was huge. They had landed in the middle of a field leading up to the gates, and beyond that a huge black-marble mansion sat. It wasn’t as big as Hogwarts, but Hogwarts had a lot of rooms that were never used. Shikaan, however, was no less magnificent.
Snape led him through the gates and up to the school. The halls were mostly empty, as classes were probably in session. The Headmistress’s office wasn’t too far from the entrance, and it certainly wasn’t up a rotating staircase. It was a normal door, in a normal-looking hallway, and except for the prevailing black marble, he could have been in a normal, muggle private school. The floating lights at the ceiling were a giveaway, though.
The vampire knocked once, and the door immediately swung open. Cyrus followed him into the room.
“Good afternoon, Severus.” The voice, though soft, carried easily to them. Snape twitched. “You have our new student, yes?”
It took a moment for Cyrus to figure out where the voice was coming from, as the Headmistress was so still she blended into the lilac curtains. He stared. Her hair… it nearly reached the floor, and it was the same color as the curtains. Was it natural? Probably not. She turned around, and Cyrus almost let loose a gasp. Red eyes bore into his own.
“Good afternoon, Cyrus Obsidian. I am Kyranes, Headmistress of this Institution.”
“G-good afternoon, Headmistress.” Was that a wobble in his voice? There was no way she was human. What was she exactly? And how did she already know his name?
She smiled, and a petite fang peeked through her small lips. “You have chosen your courses?”
Snape held up the course selection form from the day before. She summoned it to her with an absent gesture, and it landed smoothly in her hands.
“You have chosen five courses outside the core? Are you sure you are prepared for the weight?”
Cyrus laughed nervously. “I’m not sure of anything, but I’m going to do my best.”
Kyranes smiled, and it sent shivers up his spine. “Very good. A little humility will serve you well here, where you will discover most of your classmates outclass you. Since Mr. Snape came to us before the start of school in September, everything has been prepared for your departure. You will take this with you when you go back to September.” She floated the sheet of parchment back to Cyrus.
Cyrus stared. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. When I go back to September?”
She slipped a dainty hand into the folds of her elaborate white robes and pulled out a small golden object. Cyrus’s eyes widened at the sight of it. “You are familiar with a time turner?”
“Isn’t that a little… too convenient?”
Kyranes chuckled. “How is it convenient if it is not taken advantage of? I am the Headmistress, and you wish to be enrolled for classes this year. It is a simple matter.”
“I thought time turners could only go back hours or days at most?”
Kyranes smiled. “The time turner that you are familiar with is one of those created for the Ministries of the human realm. It was not humans who made them. A time turner is only limited by the power of the wizard using it, and the quality of the materials from which it was crafted. A faulty wand will only kill the caster, after all.”
“So the time turners at the Ministry were faulty?”
She smiled. “Not faulty, merely less effective. To go back a month you will need to turn this one 30 times. I will entrust it to you until you have acquired your school supplies and gone back to September. I expect it back when you return.” She waved her hand at a filing folder sitting along the wall and it opened and ejected some papers. “These are the supplies needed for your courses. You will also be required to choose a weapon for your Weapons and Battle course. Choose carefully.”
Cyrus took the papers out of the air and started looking over them. He needed a lot of books for Runes, and salt, herbs, and a dagger for Necromancy. All in all, it wasn’t a lot of stuff to get, as he wasn’t taking Potions this year. Thank god for that.
“Thank you, Headmistress,” Snape interjected for Cyrus, who was engrossed in reading his lists.
Kyranes acknowledged his thanks with a slight tilting of the head. “The rest will be explained upon your arrival, such as dormitories.” She floated the time turner over to Snape, and he gingerly took it out of the air.
Cyrus smiled. “Thank you.”
“It is best that we leave to get Cyrus’s supplies. Thank you for accepting him so late in the year,” Snape bowed slightly, something Cyrus had never seen before. Was he supposed to bow too? He didn’t know. Snape put a hand on his shoulder and led him out of the room. They apparated straight home just as a bell rang signaling the end of class. Cyrus caught sight of himself coming out of a nearby door and smiled. ‘I look comfortable enough,’ he thought to himself before they vanished.
Remus greeted them upon their return. “How did it go?”
Cyrus grinned. “I think everything just might work out.”
-Toki Mirage-
Chapter four finally up! Just under 10,000 words. I was very happy with how this chapter turned out. Spent 15 hours working on it, all in one day. Well, not including betaing, which prolonged the update two weeks because of shifty emailing. I swear hotmail wasn't working just to spite me... Well, it's out now. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! Thanks for sticking around!
Edit 13/07/09 – Fixed a giant inconsistency that no one has noticed or mentioned, so I won’t draw your attention to it. :P
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