Harry Potter

and A Different Kind of Magic

A/N: Ok, so I've updated this chapter... and HOPEFULLY I caught all the misspellings and grammar errors. The spell checker I used originally wasn't worth Dragon Shit, so I hope my chapters will be more readable in the future (just my luck if I manage to misspell this message). I've also included a small section concerning Irja.
And Thank You everyone that have read and commented and what not. It makes writing ten times more fun.

A/N 2: New Update! Fixed the confusing discussion about Soul Fragments/Soul Shards/Soul Stones/Horcrux'es... at least enough for now, a more detailed explanation will be given in a later chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own ANYTING!

Chapter 0 – Prologue – A night of changes

It was almost midnight at number four Privet Drive, and a tabby cat was sitting on the sidewalk looking down the street into the darkness, not moving in the slightest. Suddenly their was a man standing in the corner of the street, where a second ago there was only empty air. Albus Dumbledore was dressed in purple robes, and a long cloak. He looked ancient with his long silvery white beard and hear, but his eyes where bright and twinkled behind his half-moon shaped glasses.

He pulled something that looked like a lighter from his robes and clicked it, causing the nearby light pole to wink out. He clicked the lighter looking device again and again, until all the lights on the street was put out.

He caught sight of the cat and chuckled. "I should have known to find you here, Professor McGonagall."

The cat morphed into an stern looking woman, dressed in the same style as Dumbledore, though hers were emerald green, her glasses square shaped, and her hair was black and tied into a knot. "Are you really sure about this Albus? I've watched these muggles all day, and they are the worst sort of people I have ever come across."

"The Dursleys are the boys only living relatives, Minerva."

McGonagall was about to reply when a sound caught her attention, the sound of a engine roaring in the distance. Both she and Dumbledore turned to watch as a headlight up in the sky approached, and as it began to decent towards the ground they could see it was a flying motorcycle. When motorcycle came to a stop in front of the elderly par they saw the enormous man that rode it had a tiny bundle in his lap.

"Evening Professor Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall" said the huge man as he turned of the motorcycle.

"Good Evening, Hagrid. I trust you had a good flight?" greeted Dumbledore.

"Yep. Little fella fell asleep soon after we took of." Hagrid said as he gently gave the bundle to Dumbledore.

"He will be famous Albus, there will be plenty of family's that would gladly take him in." said McGonagall, trying to change Dumbledore's mind.

"Which is precisely why he must stay with his relatives. He need to grow up away from his fame." responded Dumbledore. He walked up to the door and lay down the bundle on the doorsteps, and turned around at the sound of sobbing. "Don't cry Hagrid, the boy is better of with his relatives. You will see him again."

"I'know Professor" Hagrid managed to say between sobs.

Dumbledore turned back to the boy on the doorsteps and put a letter on his tiny form. He turned around and walked out of the yard. there he stopped, and looked at the boy one more time. "Good luck, Harry Potter."

With his final words he turned and walked back to were he had appeared earlier, took out the lighter looking device and the lights winked back to life, just as Hagrid began to ascend with the motorcycle into the air. He and McGonagall disappeared just as suddenly as Dumbledore had first appeared.

A raven sitting on a chimney across the street watch as Dumbledore and the other left the child at the doorsteps and then all leave. After watching the baby sleep for a few minutes it jumped of its perch and soundlessly descend down to the walkway leading up to the door. there it stood another moment to look at the boy within the blankets. Black smoke started to emerge from between its feathers and it slowly begins to float upwards from the walkway as its feather starts to extend. Once about three feet into the air the raven bird began to change form, similar to how the tabby cat had turned into McGonagall earlier, yet differently.

Once the raven had completely changed its form, a man stood in its place. He was a rather tall man, with dark brown hair that reached down to his chin. One of his eyes were a deep forest green, while the other was a shade of blue that bordered on gray. He looked like he was in his younger thirties, clean shaven and with a strong body build, but not fat in the least. The man was dressed all in black, from pants and jacket to shoes, cloak and a Fedora hat.

He walked the few remaining steppes up to the front door and gently picked up the bundle the tiny boy was wrapped in, and stuffed the letter in his pocket. After making sure he had not awakened the sleeping boy, he turned around and began to walk down the street towards the nearby park, going the opposite direction to were Dumbledore had arrived from. Once he arrived at the park, he stooped and looked around, carefully making sure no one was watching him. Then he reaches into another of his pockets and pulled out what looks like a small flat stone, with several strange symbols on it. He reached out his arm, with his hand palm up, and mumble some strange words in a odd language for nearly half a minute. After a few seconds, the symbol on the stone began to glow, and when the man finishes his mumbling he removes his hand, but the stone stays in the air where it recently lay in his hand.

A moment later the stone disintegrated into a fine powder, that began to glow a soft blue, and forms into an oval shape, approximately six feet tall and three feet wide. When the center of the shape dulled slightly once the dust had taken shape, it revealed what looks like the front of a fairly large house. The man took one more look around to make sure that still no one was watching. Then he looked down at the boy in his arms, and as a smile started to spread across his face, he stepped through the portal. Once the man was gone from Little Whinging, Surrey the portal winked out, and the dust that once made up the portalstone was soon swept away in the late Autumn wind.

In the yard outside a fairly large, modest looking house, a small blue light winked into existence. And a moment later it whirled and expanded into an oval shaped portal, with its center shoving a park in some suburban area. Once the portal was fully formed, a man stepped through with a small bundle in his arms, and as soon as he was through, the portal faded away. The man looked up at the house with a smile: the lights were on in one of the rooms on the bottom floor, meaning his dear wife was awake. He walked up to his home, and quietly opened the door, trying not to disturb anyone sleeping.

"Nick? Is that you dear?" his wife's voice could be heard from the living room. Guess every resident was awake after all.

"Yes, Honey." He replied as he took of his shoes.

He walked into the living room and found his wife sitting on the couch cross-legged, she was a beautiful woman looking to be in her mid- to late twenties, with light brown hair that had honey blond streaks through out, reaching down to her ankles when not tied up. Her eyes were colored the same light brown as her hair, and she was currently dressed in a long white sleeveless nightgown.

Beside her were a small bundle, much like the one he had in his arms. His wife looked up from their child to face her husband, she looked very tired but had a smile on her face once she looked in his eyes.

"What do you have there?" she asked once she saw him carrying the bundle.

"Someone that is in need of a better home than were he was a few minutes ago."

"And you felt you had to go get him... her?... in the middle of the night?"

"Him. And once you take a look at him, maybe you will recognize whose son this is?" he asked as he sat down on the other side of his wife than where his daughter was sleeping. He carefully gave the young boy to his wife, who held the boy in one arm and stroked the baby's face absently. After a moment of thought she tilted her head.

"No, I don't recognize who's baby this could be." she said quietly.

"You know the Potters, I presume?"

His wife snapt her head to her husband. "You kidnapped James' son?" she hissed, barely raising her voice so as to not waking their daughter.

Nick looked into her eyes with a sad expression. "No. They are dead, young Harry here was left on the doorsteps to a muggle family, who accordingly to the lady who had observed the muggle family the last day, were not suited to raise him."

Now it was his wife's turn to get a sad expression. "I take it Voldemort found them after all."

Nick didn't respond to that, just nodded. "You might want to know that it was Dumbledore who left Harry at the muggles."

His wife's expression turned into shocked surprise at the mention of Dumbledore, but it turned to an angry scowl once he finished. "And as always, he has to involve himself in everything regardless of whether its his business or not."

At that moment, her hand was stroking Harry's forehead, more specifically her finger touched the scar on his forehead. She janked her hand away with a gasp as if she had been burned.

"What?" her husband asked worryingly "What is it?"

His wife just stared at the scar on Harry's head.

"Camilla." he said more forcefully. This seemed to snap her out of whatever had happened.

"There is a Soul Fragment in his head." she said. Her eyes were wide open, and she looked a little pale.

"A Soul Shard you mean?"

"No, a Fragment. Its not a complete Shard, but..." she gently touched the scar again, and winced a little once she touched it. "... it seems like it was used to create a Soul Stone. I think you would call it a Horcrux, if memory serves."

Now it was Nick's turn to stare with wide open eyes and pale face. "Voldemort?"

Camilla bit her lip. "I never fought him personally, so I can't tell if its him or not. But if I were to guess, then... sadly yes. I'd say it's Voldemort's Horcrux."

"So he is still alive then?"

"Again, it was a long time ago I read about Horcruxes, but if they work the same way as an Soul Stone... which I must assume they do, given how this one feels... then if Voldemort were to die while anchored by a Horcrux, then he would not truly die for as long as they are active."

"This one? He has more than one? How Many?"

"I can only tell that this one is not one hundred percent completed, its kind of like he was in a hurry making this one, but it fulfills it's purpose. That tells me that he knew how to create a Horcrux before this one, so at least two besides this one, maybe more than that."

"More than three? I though you could only have one at a time?"

"That's one more difference between a Soul Stone and a Horcrux: Soul Stone is an anchor to your soul made purely by magic, and the amount of magic required to anchor a soul without a piece of your soul as a catalyst is ridiculous, thus you can only have one Soul Stone at a time. A Horcrux on the other hand uses a piece of the soul being anchored as a catalyst to keep your soul in the mortal realm, because of that, the magical requirement is drastically reduced... at a price."

"Which is?"

"For every active Horcrux, you loose a piece of yourself; you sanity, your humanity."

"And that explains why Voldemort has done some of the things hes done, I guess"

"Perhaps..." Camilla whispered. She looked back down on Harry, stroking his cheeks.

"Can it be removed?" Nick asked after a full minute of silence.

"Yes. Though it will most likely take some time, given it looks like it was made in a hurry." She looked at their daughter, then called out "Irja."

There was a small pop and their House Elf, Irja, stood in the living room across from the small table that was in front of the couch. But she was not of the "Common House Elf" variety, instead she looked more like muggle fairy tail Elves; humans with pointed elongated ears that was a foot long. In truth, she was the "Original House Elf" variety; long ago when wizard-kind first came across Elves and the mutual benefits of binding Elves to wizards and witches was discovered, it quickly became a trend to have a House Elf. Problem was that there was far to few Elves to bind with every wizard and witch that wanted an House Elf, so their species became hard pressed to breed much to fast to accommodate all wizard-kind. This lead to the "Common House Elf" variety, and though they now numbered high enough for every wizard that wanted a House Elf to have one, the Elves became to interbreed to keep their beauty, and they lost a fair portion of their power too.

Irja was six foot tall with light skin and blond hair, that was almost white. She was dressed in a gray full length skirt and a top of the same color that ended just below her ribs, showing her stomach. She was also wearing several elaborate earrings in each ear made of gold and silver, a plain golden ring on each finger, and several silver bracelets on each wrist.

"You called, Mistress?" Irja asked. But the pop had startled their daughter, and she now started crying, which in turn awoken Harry and causing him to start crying also. Irja winced once she realized she was the cause for the children crying. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to awaken Young Mistress."

"No matter, can you remove the Soul Fragment thats lodged in Harry's Head?" Camilla asked holding out Harry so Irja could take him. Then she lifted her daughter to soothe her.

Once she held Harry comfortably in her arms close to her chest, she began stroking Harry's face like Camilla had done earlier while humming softly. This caused Harry to quickly calm down, and once he was no longer crying, Irja gently touched the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. She held her index finger on the scar for a moment, then she got a smile on her face.

"What's the verdict?" Nick asked Irja curiously as to why she was smiling, she honestly didn't smile all that often, as far as he could remember.

Irja didn't move, and continued to smile for a short moment before she resumed stroking Harry's face and turned to answer her Master. "If I bind with him, the binding ritual will cleanse him of all impurities, Master."

"But he is not of Azera'n blood. You cant bind with anyone outside of their bloodline." Nick said confused.

"Indeed, Master." she said timidly, looking at Camilla, who now looked very surprised.

"You want to bring him into my Bloodline?" Camilla asked after the initial surprise passed.

"Mistress need a Heir to her Bloodline, I need a proper Bond Master, and Young Mistress Jessica will need a sibling to grow up alongside. Young Harry's parents have passed away, his Guardians are Unavailable, and the Caretakers whom he was left at are Unfit to care for any Child. If You take in Young Harry everyone wins."

Irja had a smile on her face during her entire explanation, for two reasons: the first was that it would ensure the continuation of the Azera'n Bloodline. Jessica was of the forth generation where only a single female had been born, if no male Heir was found the Azera'n Bloodline would go extinct, and an emergency solution like the one Camilla had taken could not be taken again (marrying while keeping her maiden name). The second reason was similar, but more personal for Irja: because young Jessica was a forth generation of only females (meaning Camilla was from a third generation of only females) Irja had not been able to Bond with any Azera'n Head of House, she had only had a Minor Bond with Camilla, her mother, and her grandmother ever since the last Head of House passed away almost eighty years ago. And if she did not Bond soon she would die.

After a moment of consideration Nick cleared his throat. "Well, this is quite far from what I expected when I brought Harry home with me."

"Maybe so, but I've learned long ago to trust your gut... in more than one sense." she then added as an afterthought.

"Harr, Harr." was Nick's dry response.

"So we go through with the ritual? He will be the Heir of at least five Houses, more depending on if he inherits any other titles from his birth-parents than just Potter." his wife pointed out. "Though I guess that is a moot point, its this or my Bloodline will perish."

Hearing this Irja made a small squeal of happiness.

"We should check to make sure Old Dumbledore doesn't have any schemes hiding in the shadows first though. Having the Supreme Mugwump personally drop of a child at the doorsteps of muggles smells fishy to me." Nick said.

"So we are in agreement? We take Harry in?" Camilla confirmed.

Nick threw a look at Irja, who was hopefully beaming with joy. "As long as we move carefully about it, the answer is: Yes. Most definitely."

This was exactly the answer Irja wanted, and she began to dance around the living-room all the while singing quietly in the Old Elven Tongue. Nick hugged his wife and placed a hand on Jessica's head, who were looking for where the singing came from. They all had big smiles on their faces when the big grandfather clock struck midnight.

"It would seem like you just got a Brother, My Dear Child."