Stormseeker: Borrowed Destiny

"Professor, Mr. Ollivander knew I wasn't who I claimed to be," I tell Dumbledore.

"Ah," Dumbledore replies. "I should have expected this. Well, no matter. I would not worry overly much about it. Ollivander is very focused upon his work, and pays little heed to what his wands do once they leave his shop."

I nod. "I see. That's reassuring."

"However," Dumbledore says. "I've been observing your progress with Occlumency. I do not believe your skill with it will be sufficient by the time September arrives. So I will be bringing another into our little conspiracy."

"Who is it?" I ask.

"Professor Snape," Dumbledore says. "He's the Potions teacher here at Hogwarts. He's also a skilled Legilimens and Occlumens. I'll ask him to continue to tutor you throughout the year."

"Alright," I say, nodding. "When do I get to meet him?"

"He should be stopping by tomorrow," Dumbledore says. "I will need to explain the situation to him. Delicately." He makes a face.

"You didn't want to have to do this, did you," I say gently.

"Go get some rest, my boy," Dumbledore says, avoiding the question. "You've had a busy day."

Professor Snape is a black-haired man with a hawk-like nose. When he seems me in the Headmaster's office, he looks at me in such a way that I can practically feel my skin crawling. That's uncomfortable. I have to look away.

"Headmaster, is... this what you wished to speak with me regarding?" Snape says to Dumbledore.

"Yes, Severus," Dumbledore says. "Please, have a seat. This will probably take a while."

"Very well," Snape says, sitting down across from him. "And I'll assume that there's some reason why young Mr. Potter is present as well?"

"This matter directly concerns him," Dumbledore says. "However, this is not, in fact, Harry Potter. Let me explain."

"I thought there was something strange about him..." Snape says thoughtfully. "Do go on."

"You see... Harry Potter was sent to live with Petunia and Vernon Dursley after his parents were killed," Dumbledore says. "However, when he was five years old... there was an accident. He fell down the stairs. Broke his neck and died instantly..."

"Accident, you say," Snape says, giving a low growl. "Are you certain that there was no foul play involved there?"

"I cannot be certain," Dumbledore says. "And they were Obliviated shortly afterward to make them forget that Harry ever lived with them."

"So, how many people know about Potter's death, then?" Snape asks.

"They're all here in this room," Dumbledore says. "Mr. Ollivander may realize it as well."

"You've covered this up very well," Snape says. "And now you have brought in an imposter to take his place? What are you playing at, Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore pauses for a few moments before responding, "It's for the greater good, I believe. The people will have their symbol to rally around, and when Voldemort returns, we may be ready."

"He's not even the one spoken of in the prophecy," Snape points out.

"No, he is not," Dumbledore says. "Not that prophecy. There was another one, however."

"What?" Snape says. "You never told me about that."

"The only ones who know about this particular prophecy are myself, the boy here, Gabriel Truman, and Nymphadora Tonks," Dumbledore says dryly.

"Why do they know about it?" Snape asks.

"They were serving detention with Professor Trelawny when she spoke it," Dumbledore says.

"Fine, let's hear it."

"The Stormseeker approaches. Born of the blood of the dragon, born of a galaxy far, far away. He comes seeking the power to fight the shadow and the dark night. Deaths beyond number mark his path, but he bears the hope of a thousand worlds."

Snape stares at him in silence for a long moment when he's done speaking. "And this, I presume, is this Stormseeker, then?"

"Indeed so," Dumbledore says.

"And you think he has a chance of defeating the Dark Lord?" Snape says.

"Indeed I do," Dumbledore says.

"You have an awful lot of confidence in an eleven year old boy," Snape says.

"Technically, I'm still ten," I say quietly.

"You aren't helping your case, 'Stormseeker'," Snape comments.

"I never claimed I'd be ready for it overnight," I say. "But if anyone can do it, I can. And I will not give up until Voldemort is gone for good, I swear it."

"What makes you think you would be capable of doing what any number of skilled adult wizards cannot?" Snape asks.

I take a deep breath. I hadn't explicitly explained this to Dumbledore, but I'm pretty sure he figured it out from looking at my mind. Either way, he should know. I've got to trust him. And if he trusts Snape with this, I've got to trust Snape as well.

"I'm immortal," I say.

"What?" Snape says. Whatever he might have expected, that was not it.

"He has some... unique circumstances," Dumbledore says.

I nod in agreement. "You see, whenever I die, I wake up again on the morning of the day that I died. With full memory of what happened that day."

"What?" Snape says. "That's preposterous. I've never heard of such an ability before."

"Neither had I," Dumbledore says. "But look through his mind for yourself. Even the people in his own universe hadn't seen this sort of ability before."

"Fine," Snape says, staring at me. I meet him in the eye and don't bother with my rudimentary Occlumency abilities, allowing him to see everything that happened to me on the day before coming here. He frowns deeply and his brow furrows as he delves deeply into my thoughts. "That's... there's no way a ten-year-old could have faked these memories. Nor that someone would go to the trouble of crafting memory of an entire other universe when there are much more believable lies."

"Indeed," Dumbledore says.

"I already died once while in this universe, too," I point out. "And I learned my lesson from that foolishness as well."

Snape frowns again. "You ran off to Knockturn Alley the first chance you got and grabbed a random artifact? You're lucky you do have this ability."

"Yeah, I know," I say. "To be fair, Borgin was surprised at what happened too. The dagger wasn't supposed to be cursed or anything."

"What happened?" Dumbledore says, looking at me as well. "Ah. Ah, I see. A dragonslaying dagger named Frozen Viper? I believe I have heard of that. I have no idea how Borgin got his hands on it. No, it definitely should not have done that. It's only dangerous to dragons."

"Didn't that prophecy about him mention something about dragons?" Snape says.

"There's a legend that my family is descended from dragons," I say. "But it's just a legend. The alternative would be... awfully squicky."

"All the same, I'd like to examine a bit of your blood," Snape says.

"Alright," I say.

Dumbledore provides a vial, and I prick my thumb again to allow a little bit of blood to run into the container. "That'll be enough, I think. Episkey." With a wave of his wand, the small cut closes up again.

Snape takes the vial from him and examines it closely, analyzing it, smelling it, tasting it. "If I hadn't just seen this run out of a boy's thumb, I'd think someone was trying to trick me. This is dragon blood."

"What?" I say.

"I didn't really think to examine it before," Dumbledore says, taking the vial back and examining the blood himself to confirm Snape's words. "I didn't think the prophecy meant it that literally. You're right, this is dragon blood..."

"I still think this is a terrible idea, mind you," Snape says. "But I will concede that the boy's unique circumstances will give him an advantage. If nothing else, he can use his foreknowledge to warn a more capable wizard of what's to come."

"Indeed," Dumbledore says.

"I still do not agree with covering up Potter's death and putting a substitute in his place, however," Snape says, folding his arms across his chest. "But I will go along with this fool scheme on one condition." He looks to me pointedly. "I want a steady supply of dragon blood."

"Okay," I say.

"Lexen?" Dumbledore says.

"What?" I say, raising an eyebrow. "It seems a small enough price to pay. I really don't mind."

"Very well," Dumbledore says. "Dragon blood can be a very useful oven cleaner."

"I still cannot believe that you would use dragon blood as an oven cleaner," Snape says. "Such a waste."

"Also, Severus," Dumbledore says. "Would you be willing to tutor young Lexen here in Occlumency, as well?"

"I suppose it would be necessary for him to keep a secret like this," Snape says reluctantly. "But he had better not be a dunderhead."

"I'll try not to disappoint you, sir," I say.

"However, it would no doubt prove suspicious to the other students if you were being given private lessons," Snape says. "We will need to call it detention, instead."

"Alright," I say.

Professor Snape takes over my Occlumency lessons from then on, and I see Dumbledore less and less, despite still staying in the Headmaster's guest quarters. I suppose he has a lot of things to do, and doesn't have time to personally hold my hand all the time.

"I suppose I should not have expected much from a child," Snape mutters.

"Have I done something wrong, sir?" I ask.

"No," Snape replies. "You are making progress. Slowly. Very slowly. You're still a very long way away from being able to control your thoughts and emotions."

"I will keep at it, sir," I say. "I've been doing the exercises you told me to do every day."

Snape pulls out a potion from his desk and passes it over to me. "Here, drink this."

I take it from him and drink it down. "What is it?"

"You ask what it is after drinking it?" Snape says, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Well, you said to drink it," I say, shrugging. "I trust you, I was just curious."

"It's a potion to increase your blood production," Snape says. "Now, give me your arm."

"Alright," I say, lifting my arm and pulling back the sleeve.

Snape pricks my skin and fills up another bottle with blood, then mutters, "Episkey."

I feel a little light-headed, staring at the now-full bottle. That much blood came out of me? Well, I hope he's happy about it, at any rate.

"Your compensation for my time," Snape says, setting it aside on a nearby shelf. "Keep up your exercises. Perhaps you will accomplish something with them in few lifetimes."

"Yes, sir," I say.

"Headmaster, I must object to this situation," says the elderly witch with glasses who had come to see Dumbledore.

"Minerva?" Dumbledore says. "Is there a problem?"

Ah. This must be Professor Minerva McGonagall, the Transfiguration teacher. I've looked over the staff list, but I haven't actually met most of these people yet.

"It's bad enough that you led me to believe that we were to leave the boy with his Muggle aunt and uncle," McGonagall says. "And then actually sending him off to the States instead. But it is entirely inappropriate for you to be keeping a young boy in your quarters like this!"

"Minerva--" Dumbledore begins.

"No, listen to me," McGonagall interrupts. "It's bad enough that you felt the need to lie to me and did not trust me with his true whereabouts."

"Very few people actually knew the truth," Dumbledore says. "I had to ensure that no one would be able to discern his location. They could have gotten that knowledge from you against your will."

"You said that it was the best place for him," McGonagall says. "You went to a good deal of trouble convincing me of that, against my reservations! You said he would be protected there."

"Yes, well, I apologize for the deception, but it was necessary..." Dumbledore says.

"And now you're keeping an eleven-year-old boy in your room!" McGonagall says. "Do you have any idea how this looks?"

I stare at her, listening to the conversation with a puzzled frown. Well, it's not like it's exactly eavesdropping when they're yelling about it in front of me, forgetting that I'm even there.

"Minerva, the only ones who even know that he is here are Hogwarts staff members," Dumbledore tries to assure her.

"Still, for the sake of appearances, I must ask that he be moved somewhere else," McGonagall says. "I don't see why he needs to stay at the castle during the summer at all, but if he absolutely must stay here for the time being, I insist that he be placed in one of the dormitories instead. The current situation is simply unacceptable!"

"Very well," Dumbledore says graciously. "I will see about making suitable arrangements. Harry, please go collect your belongings."

"Yes, sir," I say, taking that as clear a dismissal as any.

I head up to the room I'm apparently being evicted from and start gathering up my things. I don't really have much beyond my school supplies, but I hadn't really expected to be going anywhere until September, so they're scattered about the room.

After several minutes, Professor McGonagall comes into the room. "Are you ready to go, Mr. Potter? I'm going to take you to the Gryffindor dormitory."

"Couldn't I go to the Slytherin dormitory instead?" I ask.

She looks at me in surprise. "Why would you want to go there?"

"Professor Snape has been very nice to me," I say sheepishly. "In his own way, I suppose. He has... kind of taken me under his wing as though I were his own son..."

McGonagall's expression softens a bit. "I... must admit that I did not expect that of him. But perhaps I should not be all that surprised. Although he was antagonistic toward your father, he and your mother were good friends for a while."

"He hasn't mentioned my parents much," I say quietly.

"Is your trunk packed?" McGonagall says. "I'll have it brought down once you're settled in. Come, let us go see Professor Snape."

"Yes, ma'am," I say, going to follow after her as she turns to leave the room.

I follow her out of the Headmaster's office and down to the dungeons. Really, I'd suggested this primarily for the convenience of continuing Snape's Occlumency lessons without McGonagall asking anymore undue questions. I do hope that Snape will back me up and go along with it, however.

We arrive at Professor Snape's office. "Severus," McGonagall says. "Do you mind if Mr. Potter here stays in your dormitory for the next month?"

"Was there a problem with his previous arrangements?" Snape asks, raising an eyebrow and looking up from the cauldron he was brewing at. Unless I miss my guess, it looks like he's doing something with my blood. I wonder what dragon blood is actually used for, besides cleaning ovens?

"They were completely inappropriate," McGonagall says in a huff.

"As you say," Snape says, looking a little exasperated. "Fine, put him in the Slytherin dormitory." He returns his attention to the cauldron, carefully stirring it a bit. Clearly, he would rather be allowed to get back to what he was doing than stand here and argue about it.

McGonagall leaves, and I follow her out of the office. She directs me toward a hidden part of the dungeon. I have to wonder why it has to be hidden, but I keep my mouth shut. The Slytherin common room is large and luxuriously furnished, decorated primarily in green and black. It's entirely too dark and dim for my tastes, honestly, but it'll suffice, I suppose.

"I don't know if you're actually going to be in Slytherin house once the term starts, but here you go," McGonagall says. "Make yourself comfortable, for now. Your trunk will be along shortly. How long have you been staying at Hogwarts?"

"Since the beginning of July," I admit.

"And you've been in the Headmaster's guest quarters that entire time?" McGonagall says disapprovingly.

"Yes, ma'am," I say. "I don't understand why it's a problem..."

"You're too young to understand that, and be glad for it," McGonagall says. "But I haven't even seen you until yesterday. What have you been doing cooped up in there for a month?"

"Studying," I reply honestly. "I've already read through Magical Theory and The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, and have gotten a fair bit into The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 and A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration."

"I see," McGonagall says. "Well, in that case, perhaps you'll wind up in Ravenclaw instead. Carry on, then."

Professor McGonagall turns and leaves the common room, and I go to explore the dormitories. It feels weird having all this space to myself. Hmm, maybe I can take advantage of this to practice some of the spells I've been learning, now that I actually have my own wand. I've been spending so much time reading about theory, and haven't actually tested anything out yet. Well, part of that was not having access to a wand until a few days ago.

Well, let's start simple. A basic light spell. Harmless enough, and it's pretty dim in here anyway. I don't have the book in front of me at the moment, but I believe I remember the incantation and wand movements.

I pull out my pine wand from my robes, and say, "Lumos." The wand flickers and sputters a little, but the light doesn't stay on like it's supposed to. I must not have it quite right yet. "Lumos!" I say more insistantly. This time, the pine wand flashes and blinks for a few seconds before going out. Well, at least it's doing something, I suppose. I was a little concerned at first that this form of magic wasn't going to work for me at all, but that was just paranoia talking, I think.

I go back to the dorms, and realize that my trunk has appeared near one of the beds. Strange, I was in the common room and didn't see anyone pass me. They must have just teleported the trunk directly in here, or something. But Dumbledore said that teleportation didn't work in Hogwarts. I scratch my head and set aside that mystery for the moment in favor of digging out The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 and examining its description of the Wand-Lighting Charm some more to see what I'm doing wrong.

During the next few weeks, I spend a lot of time reading, practicing, and meditating, in between my Occlumency lessons. And I'm not particularly good at the meditating part.

Practicing simple spells might have been a better idea had I not decided to try out the Fire-Making Charm. Okay, that was probably a bad idea. Well, at least I only got myself killed in the subsequent conflagration. At least that'll save me the trouble of having to explain what happened to the common room. Maybe I shouldn't mention this one to Snape and Dumbledore.

I also keep up reading the Daily Prophet. Gringotts was apparently broken into on the day I went to Diagon Alley. Someone tried to rob a high security vault, but nothing was stolen, because the vault had already been emptied. Was it the same vault that Hagrid and I visited? I'd forgotten all about the package Hagrid picked up for Dumbledore. Well, if it's for Dumbledore and someone tried to steal it, I imagine it's probably something important. It's not really my business, though. I trust Dumbledore, after all. I have to.

I ease off on the practicing spells a bit after that and stick to reading. It's dangerous, and I'd rather not die more than necessary. Burning to death hurt. I'm eager for school to start, so the real learning can begin.