Stormseeker: Borrowed Destiny

There it is. Hogwarts. I'm really back here, on a warm summer day, not a cloud in the sky.

I sit on the edge of the lake, gazing off at the sprawling magical castle that houses a school for witches and wizards. It's reassuring to see it again. For a moment there, a nagging thought in the back of my mind was almost afraid that the past two years had simply been just a dream. After all I've been through, after dying so many times, I really should be over that by now. No, it was no dream. It all really happened. And if I have any say in it, the worst of it will not happen again.

I had hoped to be able to go back again, but never expected it to be like this. I'd hoped that I might one day learn to be able to control my power, and return to a specific day, or something. Perhaps I still might. But this will suffice. Sure, it'll take a lot of time, work, and patience to be able to get back to where I was, but that's alright. It's time that I can spend studying and learning, after all. I still have a lot to learn.

In hindsight, I really needn't have been quite so quick to leave Torn Elkandu. After all, the attack won't take place for six hours. But, I suppose, I was eager to be back here and see it again with my own eyes.

Why did I come back this far, this time? What happened differently from all those other times I died? Was it because of where I died, or the means by which I died? Come to think, I never died by the basilisk's gaze before, only its venom. Is there something special about its gaze that drove my power into knocking me so far back in time? I don't know that I really care to test it again, even if I could get back into the Chamber of Secrets in the first place. I just know that I certainly didn't do anything myself to change where it might send me. I don't know, but now I know that it's possible. And for now, that's enough.

My mind spins, thinking back on everything that went wrong, all the mistakes I made along the way, everything that I could do differently this time around... It's enough to bring tears to my eyes.

After relaxing for a bit, I stand up and stretch. Dumbledore didn't run into me at the lakeside until after the attack would have happened in Torn Elkandu, so I still have several hours before he's in that spot, if he even goes there. But I'm not Harry Potter right now, so perhaps it would be best if fewer people saw me. Not that the lack of a scar on my forehead would be all that hard to hide or anything, anyway, though.

I'm overthinking things. It doesn't matter. I should just take a break, maybe take a nap, relax. It's a beautiful day. I've been through hell lately. I let out a deep sigh and sprawl out in the grass by the lake, and let my eyes slide shut. I'm so defenseless out here like this. What if someone comes along and kills me? Hah, what does it matter? At this moment in time, I have absolutely nothing to lose.

The day drifts by, and I doze lightly, more peaceful and contented than I have been in a long time. After some time, I stir at the shifting breeze, and notice that Dumbledore is sitting in the grass nearby.

"Enjoy your nap?" Dumbledore asks.

"Ah, yes, sir," I reply.

"It's a lovely day, isn't it?" Dumbledore says.

"Yeah..." I say. "Dumbledore... I was hoping to speak with you."

"Oh?" Dumbledore says. "Hmm, you look to be about the age to be starting at Hogwarts. Will you be joining us this coming year?"

"Dumbledore, if I may, I'd like to speak with you in private, in your office, please," I say.

Dumbledore looks into my eyes, and says, "Do you, now?" I can feel a light thrust of Legilimency tap against my shields, like a bug hitting a window.

"Yes, sir," I say. "It's important."

Dumbledore says, "Very well."

He stands, and I follow him off into the nearby tavern, where we use the Floo to go straight to the Headmaster's office. Once on the other side, Dumbledore waves his wand at me, and suddenly, ropes spring out of nowhere and bind me in place.

"Wait, what?" I say. "What are you doing?"

"It's strange to see an Occlumens so young," Dumbledore says, looking at me pointedly. "Even I cannot penetrate your barriers. This could only mean one of two things. Either you have a natural talent for Occlumency, or you are not what you appear to be."

"Wait, I can explain!" I say.

"Who are you?" Dumbledore demands, pointing his wand at me.

"My full name is Lexenmilot Skywalker Majere Renneck Chelseer," I reply. "I am the heir of the house known as the Children of the Dragon's Blood. My title is the Stormseeker." He opens his mouth to respond to that, but I interrupt him. "I know about the prophecy already. I'm a time traveler."

"I see," Dumbledore says. "You'll forgive me if I don't take your words at face value right away. Why should I trust you?"

I sigh. "I don't know what I can tell you to prove what I say. I could try to let down my barriers to let you in."

Dumbledore shakes his head. "I do not know that you are not a skilled enough Occlumens to produce falsified thoughts for me to read. However, a Pensieve is more difficult to trick."

"A Pensieve?" I repeat.

"A device used for viewing memories," Dumbledore says, indicating a nearby basin. "They're very rare, but I have one available here. I find them most useful."

"Alright," I say. "What do you want me to do?"

Dumbledore puts his wand against my forehead. It's a rather uncomfortable feeling, really. "Focus on a memory that you want me to see. I will take it from your mind and put it into the Pensieve."

"Um," I say. "Just to check, but will this just make a copy of the memory, or actually make me forget something?"

"Just a copy," Dumbledore assures me. "You won't forget anything."

"Alright, then," I say. I focus upon my first encounter with Dumbledore, there on the shore of the lake, two years ago. How he told me about the prophecy, about Harry Potter, and our scheme for me to take Harry's place. About discussing where I'm from, and my unique ability. We did actually discuss that, didn't we? Hopefully it'll be enough.

Dumbledore pulls his wand away from my head, and a thin strand of silver appears between his wand and my skin, as though he's pulling something out. "Very well," Dumbledore says, dropping the silvery object into the basin. "Remain here. I will view this and return momentarily."

"That's easy for you to say," I mutter. "I'm still tied up."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkle at me, and he puts his face into the basin and seems to... fall into it, and disappear.

I guess when I came back, I just sort of assumed that Dumbledore would trust me right away again. It had slipped my mind that I had become rather good at Occlumency in the meantime. The barriers have just become so natural that I tend to forget about them now.

After several long minutes of uncomfortable waiting, Dumbledore emerges from the Pensieve. "The memories appear genuine," he says. "I can understand my reasoning for doing as I did. However, I would like to see more of your memories before I do anything."

"Of course," I say. "What would you like to see?"

"Show me this world of yours," Dumbledore says. "And that attack you mentioned, about that Sedder fellow. And show me something from the future you experienced."

"Alright," I say. First I focus on the memory of Sedder's attack so he can withdraw that, and then I give him the memory of speaking with him in front of the mirror of Erised. "Could you untie me, perhaps?"

"Not just yet, I think," Dumbledore says. "Forgive me, but I would like you to remain there for at least an hour, in case you're using Polyjuice." Dumbledore vanishes into the Pensieve again to view the memories.

Why did I bring up that memory, I wonder? I could tell him about any number of critical future events, and that's the first thing that comes to mind? Ah, well. Maybe it'll help him to trust me, at least. And untie me. These ropes are starting to chafe.

It must be at least half an hour of waiting later before Dumbledore comes out again this time. "Very well," Dumbledore says. "I think I shall have to believe you. There were things in there that you could not have faked or known about otherwise."

"So will you release me now?" I ask.

"Five more minutes, boy," Dumbledore says. "Tell me, how far in the future did you see?"

"Two years," I reply. Hmm, since I died in April, that means my temporal birthday will be in May now, rather than March.

"I see," Dumbledore says. "And what are your intentions here?"

"Well, I didn't exactly plan to come back," I say. "I want to learn more about magic, for one thing. I didn't even manage to complete second year, after all. But I'd also like to try to avert some of the bad things that happened along the way, if I can."

"Messing with the course of history could be a dangerous business," Dumbledore says.

I make a face, and say, "I know! Merlin, I know..." I sigh heavily.

Dumbledore examines my expression, and says, "I see. Well, if you understand the risks involved, I shall not attempt to dissuade you from that course of action. I will also not ask for any future information beyond that which you see fit to share with me. Much as a part of me would like to know everything, I understand that there may be things which I should not know yet for whatever reason." Dumbledore glances at the clock, and waves his wand at me, and the ropes restraining me vanish. "My apologies for that. I think I held you there a little longer than was strictly necessary, but I had to be certain."

"I understand," I say, stretching a little. "So, are we going to be doing the same thing again? Do you want me to be Harry Potter, or attend school as myself?"

"You spent two years as Harry Potter," Dumbledore says. "Did anyone ever suspect that you were not who you claimed to be?"

"There were two people who realized it just from looking at me, and not because of anything I did," I say. "Ollivander, and Luna Lovegood. Neither of them compromised my cover. Luna proved to be a valuable ally, in fact."

"I suppose I cannot argue with that mad plan working, then," Dumbledore says thoughtfully. "Are you willing to do it again, Lexen?"

I give a nod. "Of course. I've spent the last two years being Harry Potter, after all."

"I have to wonder what such long-term imitation of another would do to a young man's psyche," Dumbledore muses.

"It's not like anyone actually knew Harry Potter," I say. "What his personality would have been like or anything. I just behaved like myself and answered to a different name. It really wasn't a big deal."

"This is true," Dumbledore says. "Very well. If you are certain of this, I shall make the necessary arrangements. But first, I'll need to duplicate that scar again. If you have any doubts about this, tell me now, because once I do this, you will be locked into this course for the remainder of your time in this world."

"I'm certain," I say. "Go ahead."

"Brace yourself, then," Dumbledore says.

He aims his wand at me, and fires off a curse at my forehead. Burning agony rips through my body, and it feels like my head is about to split open and spill blood all over. I clench my teeth to try to keep from screaming. Did it hurt this much before?

"Lexen?" Dumbledore says. "Are you alright?"

I nod a little, and wish I hadn't. My head is spinning. "I'll be fine," I say.

"I'm surprised that you didn't cry out," Dumbledore says. "Dark curses like that are usually quite painful."

"Do you have any idea how many times I've died?" I say.

"Ah, I see your point," Dumbledore says. "I'm sorry that one so young has to go through such things, though."

"I'm used to it," I say. "I'll survive. I always do. One way or another."

"I must go make the necessary arrangements now," Dumbledore says. "I'll need a bit of your blood for that, of course." I let him take a small amount of blood in a vial. "Feel free to look at the course books on that bookshelf, although I would request that you do not touch anything else in the room. Some of the things in here may be dangerous to the untrained hand."

"Of course, sir," I say. "I'll just take a look at the third year course books."

Dumbledore steps into the Floo and exits the office, leaving me alone with his phoenix and a stack of books. I don't really have time to go into detailed study of them right now, but I can get started with skimming the material and making note of what I might want to read further in depth in the near future.

I'll be ahead in subject matter from the rest of my class, but will still need to attend classes and hold back a bit in some areas so that that does not become too obvious. I should be able to do the homework pretty quickly, though, so I ought to pick a field or two to read ahead in. Although, all things considered, that will probably have to be Defense. Even with Remus's tutoring and my own self-study, I'm still behind in that one from where I feel like I ought to be.

All I have are my memories and skills. Knowledge of the future that I might be able to use in some way. In a way, I've really lost everything. And yet, considering how things fell into the Abyss, it doesn't really feel like a loss. Still, I must start over. I need to rebuild friendships all over again. But that's alright. I'd be a fool to complain about having a second chance.

It's rather late before Dumbledore returns. I can't imagine what sort of arrangements must be necessary to make the magical community at large recognize me as Harry Potter, especially the vaults at Gringotts. I wonder if he tricked the goblins, bribed them, or merely came to an understanding about it.

"Well, that went smoothly enough," Dumbledore says after stepping out of the Floo. "Magically, you are now recognized as being Harry Potter, and will have access to the Potter vaults. I trust that you will not abuse that privelege?"

"Of course not," I reply. "Thank you, sir." I wonder if, one of these lifetimes, I can find out just what arrangements needed to be made, and be able to do them myself, so that I do not need to rely on Dumbledore for this. And then, of course, I'd have to Obliviate Dumbledore, too. Ah, a silly train of thought, although it amuses me.

"Where will you be staying for the summer?" Dumbledore asks.

"Hmm," I say. "Perhaps I should rent a room in Diagon Alley or something. It would be nice to have access to the resources there."

"Yes, you could stay at the Leaky Cauldron," Dumbledore says. "Good idea."

I look at him thoughtfully. He's very good at masking his emotions, but there's still an undertone that I can't mistake. "You don't really trust me fully yet, do you," I say.

"I trust you because I must," Dumbledore says. "I have little choice in the matter."

"There are always choices," I say.

"Still, even if you are not truly Harry Potter, I trust that you will be able to play his part as well as he would," Dumbledore says. "And even if not... better still than having him not present at all."

I give a nod. "If that's everything, then I suppose I'll get out of your hair and make arrangements with the Leaky Cauldron, then."

"Very well," Dumbledore says. "Be certain to notify me if there are any issues or you have any questions. My office will always be open to you."

"Thank you, sir," I say. I put the books I was looking at away, and step up to the fireplace. "The Leaky Cauldron!" I say, tossing in a bit of powder, and step into the green flames.

I tumble head over heels out of the fireplace at the far end. I never did get used to Floo travel. But at least I got the right stop. I head over to the bar.

The bartender takes a good look at me, his eyes resting on the curse scar on my forehead. "Well, I'll be. Is it really Harry Potter?"

"That's right," I say. "I'm looking to stay here over the summer. Have you a room I can rent?"

"Certainly," the bartender says. "It's ten sickles per night, or ten galleons per month, and it includes meals."

"Alright," I say. "I need to make a quit stop to Gringotts, and I'll be back shortly."

"Right then," the bartender says. "I'll have your room ready by the time you return."

I head out to Diagon Alley, and make my way over to the bank. There's some other things I'd like to take care of here, but that can wait for tomorrow. Right now, I just want to get some pocket money. I head down to the Potter vault and withdraw around a hundred galleons, not even making a dent in the stacks of gold. That counts as pocket money, right?

I return to the Leaky Cauldron, and count twenty galleons out to the bartender. He fishes around a bit, and pulls out a key and hands it to me. "Here you go. You're in room number nine. Let me know if you need anything. It's an honor to have you here, Mr. Potter."

"Thanks," I say. I take the key from him and head upstairs.

It's a comfortable room, more spacious than I would have expected. There's probably charms all over the place to make things bigger on the inside than they could possibly actually fit into the building. Even though I had a nap earlier, I'm still pretty tired. Worn out from everything, I suppose. I'll just get cleaned up, get something to eat, and then head for bed. I have a lot I want to do before school starts, and I aim to get started first thing in the morning.

I wake to light streaming in through the window. It's morning in London, on my first full day back on Wizarding Earth. This will take a bit of adjusting, but all in all, my spirits are high.

First, I go into a store that sells bags and luggage. These galleons are awfully heavy, and I'd rather not accidentally spill them or have someone steal them. I buy a bag that's enchanted to hold a large number of objects and reduce their weight. It's a bit expensive, but well worth the investment, I think. I've always wanted a bag of holding, but there are few Elkandu who can make them.

My next stop today is Ollivander's. I'll feel a lot better once I have a wand in my hand again. I brush my hair across my forehead to hide the scar a bit.

"Good day to you," Ollivander says. "And who might you be, young man?"

"I'm Lexen Chelseer," I say. "I'll be attending Hogwarts this year."

"Chelseer, hmm," Ollivander says. "I'm not familiar with that family. Are you Muggleborn?"

"No, sir," I say. "Just foreign."

"I see," Ollivander says. "Well, let's see if we can match you up with a suitable wand then, shall we?"

I really don't want to go through this process again. "Pine and dragon heartstring, thirteen inches," I tell him.

Ollivander raises an eyebrow at me. "Oh?" He shrugs and goes to pull out a box. "Let's try this one, then."

That's my wand. I hold it in my left hand and give it a wave, and its magic seems to hum and click into place as a cascade of green sparks erupts from the end of the wand. It feels good to have my wand again. I dislike being unarmed.

"A fine match for you," Ollivander says. "How did you know which wand would be the right one?"

"I'm from the future," I say offhandedly, passing nine galleons over toward him.

"I... see," Ollivander says. "Well, in that case, enjoy your new old wand, then..."

"Thank you, sir," I say. "Do please keep that quiet, though, if you would."

"Of course," Ollivander says.

Next, I stop by the Eeylops Owl Emporium to pick up Solomon. The great gray owl is still there, as if waiting for me to come along. I take him back to my room so that I don't need to carry him around.

I then make my way over to Gringotts. I approach one of the goblins on duty, who says, "What do you need?"

"Just need to ask a few questions," I say. "About the laws regarding house-elves."

The goblin looks at me distastefully. "What about them? Are you looking to buy one?"

I shake my head. "Not at all. I'm hoping to help one who has been forced into servitude against his will."

"There's nothing we can do about elves who have been born into slavery," the goblin replies. "The contracts entered into by their ancestors centuries ago sealed their fate."

"This one was born free, however," I say. "And if any contract was made, it was done under duress, however he did not mention any sort of contract to me. He told me that he had been captured and bound against his will by wizards."

"Is that so?" the goblin says, raising an eyebrow at me. "I don't see why a wizard is concerned about the welfare of elves, but if what you say is true, a great crime has been committed. Do you know where this elf is now?"

"I believe he is currently in the custody of the Parkinson family," I say. "The elf's name is Rispy."

"I'll send someone to look into the matter," the goblin says. "Wizards might let something like this slide without comment, but we goblins will not tolerate this sort of injustice."

"That's why I came to you," I say. "I did not think wizards would be sympathetic to my concerns."

"What's your name?" the goblin says. "I'll notify you with whatever comes of this."

"Harry Potter," I reply. "I hope it goes well."

A good start on today, but I'm not done yet. I head over to the bookstore next. I think I'll just buy a set of every book currently in use as course books at Hogwarts.

"First year at Hogwarts?" says the young woman working in the bookstore at the moment. "I didn't think this year's book list had been released yet. And I don't think you'll need all of these right away, either."

"That's alright," I say. "I like to read ahead."

"Suit yourself," she says. "It's not like they're restricted or anything. The required course books sometimes change from year to year, though."

"Yeah, I know," I say. "But the previous books might still have valuable information in them."

"True enough, I suppose," she says. "Some of these are a bit pricey. You got enough on hand to cover them?"

"Probably," I say. "If not, I'll just make another stop at my vault."

I do have enough, so I pull out the galleons and count them out for her, and shove the entire set of books into my bag. That is so convenient. I can't believe I didn't get one of these before. I wonder what the limit on it might be?

Now, clothes. I'm not going to go two months without a change of clothes. I don't need to bother with school robes yet, but getting some different clothes to wear, and pajamas, would be a good idea. Once that's taken care of, I head back to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch. I can't help but think I'm forgetting about something important, however.

In the Leaky Cauldron, I literally run into Quirrell.

Oh, right. I had been so focused on the disastrous basilisk incident, and then getting myself set up in this world again, that I entirely forgot about him momentarily. I really ought to warn Dumbledore about him.

"Harry P-Potter?" Quirrell says. "It's an honor to meet you--"

"Hello," I say. "I'm sure it is, but I'm about to get lunch, as I'm hungry."

"I'm P-Professor Quirrell. I'm looking to teach D-Defense Against the Dark Arts this year. I'll be your t-teacher."

How could I forget how much I hated listening to him stutter? "You're welcome to join me for lunch if you like, but do try to relax," I say. "I'm not so terrifying that you need to stutter constantly in my presence, am I?"

"S-Sorry," Quirrell says.

I wonder if he's actually possessed by the Dark Lord just yet. Although I'm not exceptionally eager to go out of my way to save him, I wonder just how complicit in this all Quirrell really was. One way or another, however, I do not want to spend the entire year hearing him stutter again. Once was enough. I'd rather have Lockhart again than that. But if I tip my hand too soon, the Dark Lord will realize that I know things that I really should not know. I have to be very, very careful how I use my future knowledge.

So for now, I eat my lunch and give Quirrell no hint that I know anything is up. I will, however, need to speak with Dumbledore about this immediately. If he does the sensible thing, Quirrell won't be teaching this year at all.

After lunch, once Quirrell leaves, I head over to the Floo. "Hogwarts, Headmaster's office!"

Dumbledore, for all his niggling distrust, really did mean it when he said his office was open to me. I can't imagine that just anyone could waltz in there, and yet the Floo has no problem letting me through. "Stormseeker," Dumbledore says upon my arrival. "Is there a problem?"

"Dumbledore," I say. "I need to speak with you regarding your plans for this year. Are you aware of Quirrell's... change in allegience?"

"I strongly suspected," Dumbledore says.

"And why are you intending to keep the Philosopher's Stone at school?" I ask.

"I should have expected that you would know about that," Dumbledore says, sighing. "Very well. Allow me to explain. The Philosopher's Stone is something that Voldemort will value highly. Hence, I hoped to use it to draw him out. I meant to lay a trap for him, if you would."

"I see," I say. "The Dark Lord will be possessing Quirrell, though."

"And he used that position to strike at the Stone, I take it?" Dumbledore asks. "I suppose that's one quick way into the castle."

"He didn't try for the Stone until after exams at the end of the year," I say.

"Really now?" Dumbledore says. "Most curious. This could work for me as well, however. If he is possessing Quirrell for the entire year, he isn't off causing trouble elsewhere or forming schemes that are more likely to help him."

"But that'll mean that, for the entire year, we'll have an inept, useless teacher," I say.

"Voldemort didn't fully possess him and teach the class himself?" Dumbledore says, raising an eyebrow. "How strange. Considering he applied for the position twice, I would have thought that he had some aspiration toward that himself."

"If he was controlling Quirrell the whole time, he was stuttering just as much and being less than brilliant the entire time," I say dryly. "A good cover, perhaps, but not a very good teacher."

"We have had poor Defense teachers for many years now," Dumbledore says. "I would not expect that to change this year, or at all, until Voldemort is defeated."

"Right..." I mutter. "He still managed to be better than Lockhart... but never mind that. So, let me get this straight. We're going to allow the Dark Lord to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, just to prevent him from getting into worse trouble in the meantime?"

"Indeed," Dumbledore says.

I sigh. "Alright, fine, I can work with this, I suppose..."

I feel like this is going to be a long year.