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_Law_
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Harry was a very serious baby.
"It's because he thinks about things too hard," Lily would chuckle after James failed once again to make his son laugh.
"He must get that from you," the Potter patriarch would sigh, wrapping his arms around his wife.
She would giggle, and shove him off muttering "Not in front of Harry!"
The baby in question would blink without giving away his expression, and chew on the ear of his stuffed brown stag.
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"Don't give me orders," the five year old boy growled at his aunt as she tried to shove a list of shores at him.
Petunia smacked him across the face, leaving an angry red welt. "Don't you talk back to me! Not get out there and weed the garden!"
Harry did not speak, did not even visibly react. A plan formed in his mind, and he gave up the battle to wage a later war.
The school library was a great resource, and so were the quick glances of television he caught between chores.
He planned to have the Dursley family put in jail and himself put into a nice orphanage. The ones closest to his address and capable of taking more cases seemed better suited to the care of small children than a space under the stairs.
Starting small, Harry let slip a few incriminating facts about his personal life to the school councilor, only for the man to seemingly forget the next day.
Next, he spoke back to his uncle, gaining a brace of bruises plainly visible against the pale skin of his arms. This time the nurse and the school principle were replaced after being found wondering the back alleys of Surrey confused about their identities.
Harry frowned and rethought his mode of attack.
He listened to his aunt complain about the neighbors, Misses Number-Six sneaking out with that no good ruffian at night, while Miss Number-Three got an ugly new carpet in her front room that just looked awful!
That winter holiday he stayed outside of the house an hour past when he was meant to prepare diner. Petunia hollered for him out the back door promising the walloping he would receive if he did not return this instant and begin cooking.
Harry remained still under the holly bush for a few minutes after she had closed the door. He heard the lock click under her hands. Perfect.
Checking that there were no eyes peaking through the curtains, Harry stumbled down the sidewalk, exaggerating a limp given to him by Vernon the day before.
Quietly knocking on the door of 'Misses Number-Seven' Harry waited.
'Misses Number-Seven' was not well liked by Petunia, however the old widow held more power of the neighborhood gossip circles that Harry's aunt did. For this reason, Petunia pretended to like Misses Number-Seven and vice versa.
The door opened, and after a moment's hesitation (during which Harry wobbled his lower lip and sniffed), the boy was ushered inside.
Misses Number-Seven had of course heard the shouting (everyone this side of London had heard), and with what she considers a few subtle questions Harry haltingly explains to her about his home life, being careful to be seen trying to cover the bruises on his body.
He knows her calls to social services were not responded to, and he is forced to return to the Dursleys the next day. The gossip backlash, however, is enough for Petunia to convince her husband to put the boy into the smallest bedroom, lest the neighbors continue to comment.
A few more such discreet visits to Misses Number-Seven gives Harry trips to the second hand store to pick out less grubby clothing.
Harry smirks the next time his aunt tries to order him around. He is sitting outside with a book, and Mr. Number-Three is watching their interaction over his lawn mower.
He might not be as physically strong as his caretakers just yet, but he knew their weakness and planned to exploit it accordingly.
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Miss Sandy, librarian of the Stonewall elementary school, loved children. She loved the questions they asked, the earnest way they tried to understand the world, and above all just how cute they were.
If only her boyfriend would propose...
Anyway, she loved the children under her care, but among those, one boy would forever remain vivid in her memory.
He was small for his age with messy black hair that stuck up around the back of his head. Dark circles ringed around his green eyes (from reading too late into the night she suspected) and a he carried a calm collected manner as naturally as a stack of books under his arm.
She wanted her children to be exactly like him: cute and voracious learners.
Miss Sandy first noticed him in the library during the first year's obligatory tour of the premises. He lags behind his fellows, more interested in a book entitled 'How It Works' than the picture books captivating his class mates.
A corner table near the back window section is unofficially claimed by the boy as he systematically pages his way through all the texts on engineering. There is no joy in his gaze as he reads, though when he reaches the end of the shelf a law book sparks some interest.
He read the entire section on law and courtroom policy in one week. When she asked if he needed any help after the last cover was closed, he shook his head almost sadly.
"It is not the kind of 'Law' I was expecting."
"What were you expecting?"
"Malpractice law sounded funny," he says instead.
"Do you like medicine?"
He shrugs. "I like taking things apart to see how they work."
She pulls a book on brain surgery from the shelf. "Well, try reading this. It's about people who do just that!"
There is something hungry in his gaze and an almost smile pulls the corner of his mouth.
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Hagrid tapped the side of the little boat with a pink umbrella, and it began to sail away from the lonely house of the rock with the Dursleys inside.
Harry's gaze intensified. "How did you do that?"
The game keeper chuckled. "Magic."
The boy shook his head. "I mean, what is the process by which the results are achieved? Are you consciously manipulating energy or is it a one time release of potential energy to get the boat to move?"
"Er, well, you say the spell, and, er, wave your wand..." the man trailed off uncertainly. "Then you have to think of what you want to happen, and er, all the parts add up to, er, magic..."
"A collection of parts to make a cohesive whole then. So can spells be dissected and split back into their base components?" Hagrid felt uncomfortable under the small boy's intensive gaze.
"That's some advanced stuff Harry. You should ask your teachers when you get to school." The eleven year old frowned and looked to the floor of the little boat, evidentially not pleased that his first source of information about the magical world had already run dry.
Hagrid tried not to sigh in relief.
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Year One
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"Plenty of ambition I see and what a thirst for knowledge! You are quite ruthless in pursuit of your goals. You would do well in Slitherin."
"I like taking things apart to see how they work," the boy deadpanned. "Incidentally, what kind of spells are holding you together?"
The hat shuddered. "Knowledge for the sake of sating bottomless curiosity...better be...Ravenclaw!"
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The class Harry most looked forward to was Herbology, however when he discovered that they would only be learning how to tend to the various magical plants instead of learning how they compared to normal mundane plants, he grew despondent.
"Do we at least look into properties of plants that alter the consumer?" he asked Sprout after the first week. "Like that fruit tree in the tropics that makes the eater grow donkey ears. Are there any studies into fruits like that?"
The professor shook her head. "There are few plants with transfigorative properties, the Assifelt you mentioned as well as Gillyweed are among them, however we do not begin our study of water plants till well into your fifth year. Magic tends to be somewhat temper mental around water."
The boy did not leave in a sulk, however the stacks of books around his favorite library table expanded to include titles such as 'Beneath the Depths', 'The Island Bound Wand', and 'A Complete Theory of the Conductive Properties of Water in Regards to Magical Practices'.
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Harry frowned, looking over the top of his book (Magical Water Plants, A Comprehensive Guide) trying to find the source of his distraction. Carefully saving his place, he stood up and crept to where the sniffs and whimpers sounded.
A girl with bushy brown hair and a red tie sat curled against the back of one of the armchairs in the corner. Her eyes were red and puffy with unattractive wet streaks down her cheeks. He recognized her from a few of his classes; she always had such informed answers to the teacher's questions.
"Are you all right?" Harry asked, because it was the thing one did in situations like this despite already knowing the answer.
She started and looked up at him miserably.
"Sorry, was I bothering you?" the front of her robes were wet where she had wiped her face.
"Yes, but that's all right. Why are you here instead of at the Halloween feast?"
She mumbled something about the bathroom being too full, before sniffing again. "Well, why are you?"
"I'm trying to find out how Gillyweed works."
She sniffed again, but her voice gained strength. "That's the stuff that allows you to breathe under water, right?"
Harry nodded. "From what I understand I gives the eater qualities similar to amphibians, but none of these books seem to know how exactly it alters the body. Like, does it replace the lungs? Is it a flow through system of respiration? How does it compensate for the concentration gradients of various gasses in the blood?"
Her eyes brightened. "That sounds fascinating!"
"It is," he agreed. "It is quieter in here when everyone else is eating, so I prefer to read at those times." He wrinkled his nose, "Besides everything at feasts have bread in it."
"Bread is ok, but I don't really like to eat candy very much. My parent's are dentists."
Harry hummed, and offered her a hand. "Do you want to come and sit with me? There are some reference books I could use the help going through. I hate how magical books don't seem to have an index."
"You are muggleborn then?" she asked as they walked together back to Harry's table.
"I was raised by muggles, yes. I miss the libraries there, but magic is interesting too." His voice trailed off.
Later the frantic teachers would find the two children sitting close together on a bench pouring over a dusty tome, completely unaware of the chaos caused by a troll running loose in the castle.
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Harry blinked at the card taped to the side of his very first christmas present.
"You are always humming this song, so I asked my father if he could part with one of his collector's items. Lots of Love, Hermione"
Curious, he ripped through the brown paper and pulled out a black shirt with the name of a famous muggle band printed on the back. He stars at the vehicle illustrated on the front and smiles genuinely. He hopes Hermione appreciates the book on comparing respiratory systems of different animals he sent her.
Pulling the shirt on over his head, Harry hums loudly as he heads down to breakfast.
"We all live in a yellow submarine..."
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Hermione started as her reading partner practically slammed the book he was reading shut. The reprimand on the tip of her tongue stuck as she saw the murderous expression on his face.
"Necromancy," he spat under his breath. "Anything remotely related to surgery and other such mundane medical procedure is considered necromancy, and therefore illegal."
The girl frowned over her own tome 'A Guide to Self Reflection: Occlumency for Beginners'. "What about healing? I know Madam Pomfrey can can fix any type of injury..."
Harry snarled. "Trial and error with potions, as well a rudimentary knowledge of flesh wounds. Hyppocratus did much more intensive studies healing gladiators. No, the healing wizards use is to fix mistakes made by magic." The dusty leather cover under his fingers creaked. "Nowhere do they experiment or try to discover how the things they are fixing are put together. They don't even have a concept of anatomy!"
Hermione frowned as well; science might not have been her favorite class in primary school, but to have such a gaping void in the knowledge of an entire culture...it was practically insulting.
"Well," she began tentatively, a carefully planted idea taking root, "we could do some extra curricular study. I know the restricted section has some books on organs in potions use...we could ask Professor Snape about it?"
"I've looked in those," the boy sneered. "They can't even mention unicorn blood properties without getting squeamish. But you are correct, Professor Snape might have more informed literature."
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"If the ice caps completely melt," Hermione tells him one day in the library, "The world will be almost entirely covered in water. According to this book, some water recovered near the sea bed reacts strangely with areas of highly concentrated magic. It hypothesizes that Atlantis sank because of its high magic levels and its close proximity to the sea, becoming volatile when the ocean rose a few feet."
"That is fascinating." the boy breathes. "Is it only sea water, or does fresh water have the same effect?"
"The book doesn't say." She sounded personally offended on behalf of all bound manuscripts everywhere.
A smirk pulled Harry's lips. "There is a lake on the castle grounds, we should experiment."
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The surface of the mirror of erised did not reflect the room in which he stood, which Harry though odd. He could feel Quirrel's breath on the back of his neck, but saw no sign that he existed.
The room shown by the mirror was dark with deeply stained tables and meticulously sterilized medical equipment. The wall was lined with books, a few Harry recognized from his brief foray into the libraries limited collection of books on spell creation.
A tall lanky man hunched over the shadowed desk in the foreground, back to the observer. His shirt was yellow, his favorite color Harry noted idly, with black sleeves.
The man in the mirror turned, locked eyes with Harry and winked. The boy had to refrain from gasping. Why would his future self grow sideburns? Admittedly they did look cool...
A smirk graced future Harry's lips as though knowing exactly what his younger counterpart was thinking. He motioned to the books on the desk, and Harry noticed the titles (ranging from an analysis of comparative anatomies, to the base components to spell craft) were penned in his own hand.
The older man winked again, and pulled a blood red stone off the desk, where it had been sitting as a paper weight. He tossed it a few times into the air, and snapped his fingers.
Harry felt a slight weight in his real pocket.
"Well boy, what do you see?" Quirrel's irritating voice broke the spell.
Harry the elder rolled his eyes and vanished.
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Year Two
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"I found an odd magical creature in my house the other day," Harry casually mentions to Hermione over the phone. The summer heat beat against the windows of Number Four, so the Boy-Who-Lived sought shelter in the much cooler interior.
"What kind?" she gasps.
"It said it was a house elf. Do you know anything about them?"
She hums a negative. "I'll be in Diagon Alley next week though. I'll try to find a book on the subject for you."
"Thanks."
"What did you end up doing with it?"
Harry lounged on the couch. "I caught it and put it in the shed out back. It seemed deranged and kept harming itself."
"That poor thing!" the girl coos. "Well, I'm glad you took care of it."
He idly spun a bone between his fingers. "It shouldn't be causing any more problems."
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'...in fact one of the main arguments during the Goblin War of 1817 concerned whether goblins fell under the sentient species act, which grants protection against bodily desecration...'
-Snap-
'...such necromancers found practicing with the corpses of sentient creatures were immediately...'
-Snap- Snap-
'...the discovery of the scanning charm prevented such atrocities from being committed when...'
-Snap-Snap-Snap-
Hermionie's eye twitched as she looked at her study partner.
Oblivious to her wrath, he pulled at the rubber band on his wrist.
-Snap-
Her hand lashed out, breaking the piece of rubber messily in two.
Harry frowned at her.
"I don't know why you find that so amusing," her tone could have cut diamonds.
He looked back at his hands (fingers covered with ink as usual), bemused. "Maybe I just enjoy annoying you," he said. In truth he did not know why toying with the rubber band brought him so much entertainment either.
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"Ancient runes, arithmancy, and care of magical creatures?" Terry Boot read the elective sheet over Harry's shoulder with a bemused expression. "You considering a career as a curse breaker or something?"
The boy who lived shrugged, more interested in his scrambled eggs that the other boy. "I'm more interested in how spells work. Magical creatures looks interesting as well. Do you know if we dissect any?"
"Uh, no," the Ravenclaw said, looking a bit green.
"Pity."
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Draco waved his want before Lockheart had finished counting. With a bang and the smell of burning tires, a black snake blossomed from the end of his wand, landing on the stage floor with an angry hiss.
Harry looked at the snake, amused by its creative profanity.
Professor Snape opened his mouth to say something, probably along the lines of 'Don't move I'll take care of it', but Harry beat him to the punch.
With a deft flick, the snake and the wand in Draco's hand switched places.
A small smile tugged the corner of Harry's mouth at the blonde's shrill screech.
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Whispers followed the Boy-Who-Lived as he walked through the halls between classes.
"Did you see what he did using only a switching spell?" the attendees of the one Dueling Club meeting hissed in awe.
"He's so handsome!" the girls chittered, eyes glinting as he passed. "Why does he only hang around with that Granger girl? She's not that pretty!"
"He's a stuck up jerk," the boys growl, avoiding Harry's piercing green eyes in terror.
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Harry stood alone in the chamber, save for the unconscious red headed girl, obnoxious phoenix, dead snake, and gently bleeding diary.
Twirling his wand through his fingers, Harry considered the Basilisk. Such a waste to leave such a rare and little known creature to rot on the chamber floor.
But the hide was spell resistant...
He hefted the sword in his fist, testing its weight. "Not as fine as a scalpel," he sighed, brushing sticky drying blood off the edge, "but beggars can't be choosers I suppose."
A frightening grin crawled over his face. "I wonder how your skeletal structure withstands the surface are to weight ratio of your muscles..."
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Later, after some discreet calls and bribes, Harry came into possession of a brand new black seemingly leather coat.
It hung loosely off his small frame. "Room to grow," he would smirk, "With more fabric along the seams that can be let out."
When asked, he claimed the floor brushing material to be dragon hide, however anyone familiar with dragons knew that they didn't have such snake like scales.
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Year Three
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"Expecto Patronum!" Harry shouts. Something big and furry bursts from the end of his wand.
A large silver tiger, shoulders wider than a man was tall, barreled into the dementors, slashing with it's foot long fangs. The creatures fled, leaving two figures lying still by the lake.
Satisfied that the enemies were gone, the tiger bounded back to its master. Harry frowned and jabbed a finger at the patronus' striped head.
"I prefer spots," he mumbled, as the guardian vanished into a swirl of sparks.
The boy shook his head and walked back to where Hermionie hid behind the bushes. He wanted another look at her time turner.
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"It says here that the sand from time turners is actually found in a grotto up in the antarctic. It is speculated that its properties and ability to act as a conduit for time magic is due to its interaction with the moon and its effect on the tides."
Harry looked over at her while copying the runes inscribed on the tiny hour glass. "Is that all?"
She shook her head. "It mentions something unique about the underwater caves connected to the grotto, but no followup investigations were performed. Something about spells spontaneously failing and the wizards drowning."
The boy hummed thoughtfully, before returning to his work.
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Harry discreetly closed the dungeon door behind him, careful to cast the newly learned silencing charm on the hollow stone room. He didn't want to be interrupted on the last weekend of term after all.
Taking a small wire cage from his bag, he placed it on the table next to the sharpened cutting knives from his potion's kit. Sitting on a nearby chair, the boy rested his chin on folded hands, contemplating the prisoner within.
"I don't particularly care that you betrayed my parents. I don't even care that you framed my godfather," he said evenly, expression politely bored. "I'm telling you this so that you don't think what I'm about to do is personal."
The rat thrashed against the unbreakable bars as the boy's face twisted into a grin.
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Year Four
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"You could just go talk to her."
Victor Crum looked down at the dark haired boy calmly observing him watch the bushy haired girl from behind a bookshelf. The older boy flushed, embarrassed at being caught.
"I do not know what you are saying," the quidditch player muttered, inwardly wincing at his broken English. Such an educated girl would no doubt find his ineloquent sentences insulting.
"Of course." The boy smirked, green eyes glinting. "How rude of me, I'm Harry Potter," the boy offered a hand. Crum hesitated, before offering his own. "Victor Crum."
"Yes, Hermionie and I heard about you during the Quidditch World Cup," the boy gestured at the girl, still reading in an armchair, oblivious to her love struck stalker.
"That is her name?" Victor rolled the sounds over his tongue, testing them against his accent. If only he spent more time on those damn international lessons, then maybe he would have the correct words to say to her. He would serenade her with poetry (he would have to look up something suitable) sing her songs about the sea and snow.
Suddenly he recognized the boy. "You are the fourth champion, yes?"
The boy nodded. "Please don't let that hinder our becoming friends though."
"Why would I want that?" Too many already clung to his fame like limpets, he did not need another.
The boy's grin turned feral. "Well, we are both famous in our own right, so us becoming friends would excite the press more than us being enemies. Also, I can introduce you to my friend over there."
The older boy's heart skipped a beat. His eyes narrowed. "It would be..." he sought for the correct word, "...profit giving for us both, yes, but me more than you I think."
Harry chuckled. "Nonsense, I always enjoy meeting new friends." He motioned for the older boy to follow him to the cluster of chairs. The girl, Hermionie, looked up from her book, seemingly confused at her friend's new acquaintance.
Victor felt his face glow red, but followed.
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Harry Potter was a nice, if intensely curious boy, Crum decided. After introducing the Bulgarian seeker to his dream girl, the youngest champion seemed to believe it was his duty to chaperone all their library meetings. Victor would be more suspicious, but such things were to be expected around a lady of Miss Hermionie's upbringing.
Crum was intensely grateful to Harry for always trying to make him seem more knowledgable by asking him question only he could answer.
"How do you manage to sail your boat under water?"
"Durmstrang encourages experimentation in areas outside of the basic curriculum, right?"
"Is it true you have classes of necromancy for your healers?"
"Do you have polar bears where your school is?"
Victor would try to smile (prompting what appeared to be a pained twitch of his face) look deep into Hermionie's face, alight with interest, and try to answer as best he could in halting English.
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Harry noted with interest that instead of shooting sparks at the grindylows, his wand fired a jet of boiling water.
"A spell designed to take the properties water has on magic into account. How interesting; I'll have to talk to Hermionie about this when I get her out of this lake."
Mind buzzing pleasantly with theories, the fourth champion swam away towards the singing.
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Through the uncharasteric panic clouding his mind, Harry could not help but ogle the magic being performed before him to resurrect the Dark Lord.
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That summer, Harry received an owl from Hermionie. Taped to the envelope's inside was a picture of her standing beside a hesitantly smiling Victor Crum, clad entirely in a white fur lined coat.
Little round bear ears perched atop her fluffy white hood.
Harry stared at the picture, and impulsively decided to buy the girl a book on martial arts for her birthday.
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Year Five
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Something forced its way over the top of his head, disturbing his reading.
"Hermione!" he spluttered, nearly falling off the train's seat.
"You expressed such pleasure over my hat in your letter over the summer, I decided to bring you back a gift." The girl looked too smug.
Harry frowned at the furry spotted cap.
"No, no," she mocked, "Don't thank me! The backlash from your little missive prompted Victor to call me all sorts of," her lips thinned, "cute little nicknames."
It was not out of spite that Harry wore the hat everywhere, but if his best friend took it that way he would not dissway her thinking.
The matching spotted pants were just sparks near the powder keg.
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"So Mr. Potter have you given much thought as to what career you would like to pursue after you time here at Hogwarts?"
Harry slumped in his chair, elbows resting comfortably on his knees. "I'm going to be a doctor."
"Doctor?" Flitwick shuffled his papers. "That is a kind of muggle healer, correct?"
The boy nodded.
"Well, your grades are certainly up to snuff. You would, however, need to apply for an apprenticeship at or some equivalent establishment..."
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"Yes, Miss, uh, Bones?" the toad like woman croaked. Harry wondered if her insides looked just as amphibian like as her outsides.
"I notice that no where in your course goals do you mention anything about using defensive spells."
Umbridge smiled, and Harry resisted the urge to vomit by focusing completely on his book.
"Yes, one of your class mates in Griffondor mentioned something along the same lines in my last lesson, and as I explained to her..."
Harry tuned her out. He resolved to prevent himself further discomfort by never setting foot in this classroom again.
It proved to be a popular strategy, especially when the other Ravenclaws realized that self study provided better results than the proscribed classwork.
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Hermionie swore vehemently in various languages, slamming her bag against the library bench.
Harry looked with raised brows at her over the top of his book. "Victor will be glad to hear you practicing your Russian."
She shot him a poisonous look. "That Weasley boy is being a complete cow! When I put the poster for S.P.E.W up in the Griffondor common room, he starts laughing and gets all the other boys to join in!"
"The twins's younger brother, Ralph or something, right?" He turned a page and continued reading. "Did you curse him?"
"Obviously," she huffs, sitting down beside him.
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"Fabulous work," Professor Flitwik crowed from atop his stack of books. "An excellent modification of the switching spell. What have you decided to call it?"
Harry looked at the destroyed classroom around him and smirked. "Shambles."
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Hermionie slapped Harry's quill, causing a long black line to trail down his hand from his fingers where he had been doodling. "Stop drawing on your hands with ink," she scolded.
"Don't order me around," Harry growled, defiantly outlining the letter on his thumb more darkly.
"Umbridge is just waiting for an excuse to punish you! Writing 'DEATH' across your hand is just the excuse she is looking for!"
"So? We don't have that class for another half hour."
The girl sighed exasperatedly at her friend. "Despite popular belief, I don't actually like to see you get into trouble, and she works for the Ministry. She can cause big problems."
Thoughtfully he put away his quill. "You're right. We should do something."
The girl's eyes sparked. "I've been meaning to talk to you about that, see I had this idea..."
Harry listened, and smiled.
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The larger than average group of teenagers milled around a back table in the Three Broomsticks, laughing between bursts of chatter.
Harry lounged in the corner booth, arms stretched over the back of the seat contentedly.
When Hermionie had explained her idea of a group tutoring group in defense against the dark arts, Harry had asked to see her list.
"The people we choose are going to be breaking the law with us," he explained to her. "It is not just about education, it is about making a stand."
After a thorough round of editing, the select few was whittled down to Terry Boot and some other Ravenclaws Harry was familiar with, one or two Hufflepuffs including a girl named Susan Bones, Neville and the Weasley Twins with their friend Lee Jordan.
Hermionie tried to protest the lack of her own house's representation, but Harry held firm. "You lions are the ones she will suspect first," he told her. "I need those I know won't break to be apart of this crew."
He also protested the idea of meeting in the Hog's Head. "That is where people who are in some kind of trouble meet, and we are trying to distance ourselves from suspicion."
What he did not tell her was that this first meeting would be a sort of interview. He planned to cut the list down significantly before the end of the day. That girl Cho and her friend Marietta would be the first to go, he decided.
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"What about the Defense Association," someone called out.
"Too formal. This is an act of aggression against an unjust law," Terry Boot said, to the murmured assent of the other Ravenclaws. "It needs to have more heart in it."
"Nah, it needs to be something cool, right? Like Harry said, we're outlaws now," crowed Fred.
"Bandits," his twin chimed in.
"Rogues."
"Desperadoes."
"Marauders."
"Pirates," Harry's quiet voice cut the tennis match of words.
The red heads grinned widely. "Pirates, yeah!" There seemed to be some sense of agreement in the group. "Proud and Imperious Passionate Pirates!"
"Pirates with Heart?" Hermionie's quill remained poised over the list of names. "You know, because we all showed not only courage, but determination and thoughtfulness before deciding to go against Umbridge."
"The Heart Pirates," Harry said, tracing a circle over the back of his hand with a quill. "I like it."
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Harry carefully sent an encoded message across the gold coins to the Heart Pirates.
'Search and rescue team needed by forest. Need interference run on frog loyal parties.'
They responded en-mass, demanding more details and adding opinions of their own to the pot. Harry efficiently split them into task oriented teams, face impassive as he planned how best to invade the ministry of magic.
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Harry resolved, that when this was all over, he would return to the Department of Mysteries. It would make for an enjoyable vacation.
He lingered in the room with cabinets full of time turners and the giant hourglass containing a hummingbird's egg long enough to notice a map hastily shoved in one of the drawers.
It found its way into his pocket before he even thought of touching it. He would perform a more thorough examination later; right now he had a fight to win.
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The ghostly image of the divination professor sank back into the pensive, leaving a ringing silence in the wake of her words.
Harry frowned slightly, fingers steepled under his chin. He politely nodded at appropriate moments during Dumbledore's inadequate explanation, before bidding him a good summer and returning to his dorm.
A power the dark lord knew not? While Harry intrinsically understood the power emotions held, love between a mother and child did not seem to be enough to block a curse. After all, many children were murdered before their weeping parents, and love did not save them from the dark lord's wrath.
The only logical answer was settled nicely between his ears, turning out plans faster than they could be executed.
He would need to learn more about his enemy in order to not only defeat him, but destroy the very foundations of his power network.
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Year Six
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"Interesting," Harry mutters, watching the scenes unfold in front of him in Dumbledore's pensive. "Splitting souls and moving them around, hu?" a smile crept across his face. "Sounds like fun."
Plans of how to track down bits of soul danced through his head.
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Later, after having returned to Number Four, Harry picked up the phone and dialed his second in command.
"Hermionie, are you still in contact with Crum?"
"You know I am," the girl yawned. "It's nearly midnight, why are you calling?"
"Well, in this time zone it is not. When you both are properly dressed, could you pop by with the submarine boat? You mentioned he made himself a smaller version of the Durmstrang ship, didn't you?"
"Harry what is this about?"
"I think it's about time we took a more hands on approach with our research."
The girl sighed. "Aye aye captain. I'll let him know after we've had breakfast."
"Also, I need you to contact some of the Heart Pirates..."
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Year Seven
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Harry caught train to a little town near the shore where he spent a week eating shaved ice until Hermionie arrived, touting a bemused Victor. She sat in the seat across from him, arms crossed over her chest.
He grinned at the hat pulled low over Victor's eyes. The blocky letters across the front spelled out 'PENGUIN'.
"So will you tell me why you had me come here, ruining a rather marvelous vacation in the tundra?"
Harry took pleasure in her tone for a moment, before pulling a file from his bag. "Remember that project we did learning about time turners?" He pulled out a map. "We need to go here," he pointed to a spot in the middle of the ocean.
The young woman massaged her templed. Victor put a comforting arm over her shoulder, still not looking quite sure what was going on. "Why?"
"I have apparently been signed up to fight a war," he admitted, "One which I intend to win. Normally I detest being given orders, however this fight is of a personal matter. Are you with me?"
She sighed, and muttered something under her breath in Russian that made her boyfriend smile. "Of course I am you idiot."
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"Why are we looking for this place," Hermionie complained for what felt like the thousandths time. Fish flickered overhead, the spelled bubble around the ship protecting its passengers.
Harry glanced over from his perusal of the ocean floor, brow raised. "Killing Voldemort in conventional ways appears not to work, thus more unconventional means are necessary. What is best at killing people than time? If we get lucky, we may even find something capable of banishing a soul."
"Why not use something like fiend fire, or heck even basilisk venom should be powerful enough to work!"
"You have access to those things?" He looked prepared to be surprised.
She waved her hand dismissively. "That's not the point."
Harry stretched. "Well, it's not the end goal that is important, it's the journey that matters. This sure beats spending months in a tent, right?"
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The ship's next stop was by a cliffside near Dover, a place called Green Bit, where a group of teenagers stood shivering in the early morning mist. A few of them looked surprised as a ship emerged from beneath the waves, but the looks vanished when they saw who was on board.
"You said it was a matter of life and death," Terry Boot, ever the spokesperson, said. "Why did you call us?"
Harry smoothed a crease from his long black coat before he answered. "Our enemy has a foothold and will soon overrun England. I felt it prudent for us to make contingency plans."
The Ravenclaw rolled his eyes, used to over five years of his dorm mate's antics. "So what have you decided?" To the other boy's knowledge, not even Ron Weasley had managed to beat Harry in chess yet.
The Boy-Who-Lived cocked his eyebrow in amusement. "I need one or two of you to come with me on an expedition. Some of you should stay at Hogwarts to keep us informed. I would recommend the majority find some place to lay low until the fighting starts."
"What makes you think there will be fighting?" Susan Bones spoke up.
Harry met her eyes. "This is a war." The girl's mouth clicked shut with a shudder.
"So the Hogwarts team is going to have me on it I recon," Terry sighed.
"I planned to have you in charge of the informants."
Terry frowned. "They'll be watching the owls."
"We've got that covered," chirped one of the Weasley twins, pulling out a bag. "Presenting Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes newest product!" He whipped a hand out of the bag with a flourish. "The snail felly-tone!"
The large pastel snail snoozed gently in the wizard's palm. The others looked at in bemused.
"A telephone? How does it work?" Hermionie asked. This was all news to her too.
"Fred will demonstrate!" George said, tossing the insect to his brother across the beach. His twin scampered out of earshot as George pulled out another snail.
Suddenly the creature in George's hand opened it's eyes and spoke.
"Hello Heart Pirates! This is your fabulous inventor Fred calling you via snail phone!"
The teenagers gasped.
Harry smiled. "Terry, I don't want you putting yourself out there and getting into trouble, that is going to be Neville's job," the mentioned boy squeaked. Harry turned to him. "Neville, I'm counting on you to be in charge of running interference. If something bad happens, you are in charge of making sure all our pirates come out alright. Do you understand?"
A light flared in the Griffondor's eye. He saluted smartly. "Yes captain!"
"Good. Luna and one of the twins are coming with me on the ship." The dreamy eyed girl drifts over. The Weasley twins do a quick round of rock/paper/scissors, before Fred cheers and joins them.
"Hang on," Terry grumbled. "We're off risking our lives here, so what will you be doing?"
"I would like to tell you, but I can't risk you breaking under torture. The human body can only take so much." Harry holds out a hand to the his crew. "Take care, all of you. I'll be in touch."
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"The water eats magic!" Hermionie's eyes were alight with excitement. "The closer we get to the site, the higher the concentration of ambient magic in the currents."
"Why?" Harry humored her.
"I don't know yet, but something appears to absorb and store the energy needed to perform spells and using it to multiply or grow in some way."
"Is it volatile?"
She shook her head. "No, it seems to be inert when diluted in water. That's the only reason why there aren't random bouts of impossibility occurring the deeper we go."
"Huh," Harry leaned against the deck's railing. "Will it cause any problems for the spells on the ship?"
The girl shook her head. "I asked Victor. He said the spells are used to create a membrane of some kind of resin around the boat. It is more transfiguration than charm work. The compound in the sea should not effect it." She giggled. "Usually wizards use bubble charms when going under water~ but my Victor knows better than to trust shoddy spell work."
Harry ignored her as she expounded how cleaver and manly her boyfriend was, instead preferring to look at the view spread out before him.
Broken ships littered the sea floor and little creatures had turned them into sufficient homes. Schools of fish darted overhead, making Harry feel slightly nostalgic.
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"Hogwarts has been taken over by death eaters! We have to go back and help!"
"No," Harry's quiet voice cut through the arguing like a scaple. "We keep going."
"Our friends and family are fighting for their lives, and you are worried about some little science project?"
His voice remained calm. "This 'little project' has the potential to turn the tides of the war. If we go help them now, we will all die."
"They need our help!"
"We have to trust them to hold out so we can help everyone."
"This isn't your choice to make!" the red head snarled.
"I am captain; I make the decisions on this ship."
Disgusted, Fred stormed from the cabin, slamming the door. Hermionie made a move to follow him, but Crum laid an arm around her shoulders.
"Doctor, would you like me to get something for your hand?" Luna said softly, seemingly unaffected by the huge blowup.
Something sticky dripped to the floor as Harry unclenched his fists. Blunt nails were caked with red where they had pierced the skin of his palms. "I'll be in my cabin," was all he said before leaving.
Later, they received a message that the Order of the Phoenix and several senior members of the Heart Pirates were forced to flee the castle and go into hiding.
Fred refused to meet his captain's eye for a few days, but eventually the tension faded and he was back to his exhuberant self.
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The ship emerges into an underwater pocket of clean air. Harry leaps from the boat and immediately running his hands through the glittering gold sand.
"This is the right place," he confirms. The rest of the crew warily clambers onto the shore after their over eager captain.
Hermionie runs a hand across the stone walls is satisfaction. "Volcanic rock, this place is made up of old lava tubes."
Victor kissed the top of her head. "Just like you thought it would be being."
Wands alight, the little party squeezed through a corridor. Harry felt his brows vanish into his hairline at the sight at the end.
"Trees?" Fred mutters.
"Fruit trees," Harry amends, carefully examining the strange swirling patterns on the fruit skins. No two trees were alike, and no two bore more than one fruit at a time. Something nagged in the corner of his mind. "We should not eat these." He tells the others.
The former international quidditch star shudders. "Fruit trees that be growing without sunlight...they are of the devil."
Harry let this idea roll around his mind, before he continued down into the earth.
"It looks like they are absorbing the magic contained in the water and stones of this place," Hermionie breathes in awe. Research mode activated she snaps at the rest of the crew. "Go bring some of these back to the ship, I want to examine them some more."
The others scurried off to obey, leaving Hermionie and Crum to follow the captain.
The next room flowed faintly from conglomerates of opaque blue rocks imbedded in the wall. The glow made Harry feel like he should be uncomfortable, which left him feeling disgruntled instead.
Their wands sputtered, causing the light to flicker. Crum pulled out a pair of oil lamps from his bag and lit them.
"The sea is not always a friend of magic," he said at Harry's questioning gaze.
"You two go on ahead," Hermionie muttered, captivated, "I want to examine these rock formations. I've never seen a mineral like this before...it looks almost like compressed water..."
The men communicate through a shared glance in which they agree that Harry would benefit more if he went on alone. Bidding the couple farewell, the Boy-Who-Lived ventured into the next passage.
Light flared, momentarily blinding him. Blinking the spots from his retina, Harry shaded his eyes with a hand and squinted at what lay beyond.
He grinned. Now that was exactly what he was looking for. He stepped forward. His foot sunk into the floor with a soft 'click'.
The cave rumbled.
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Once, the thing that Harry found was called 'The Treasure at the End of the Sea' and 'The Prize at the End of the Grand Line.'
Once it was even called 'One Piece'.
Now it was being used to change the world~ again that is.
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Hermionie raised an eyebrow as her captain rocketed past her down the tunnel. "Time to go back to the ship!" He calls over his shoulder.
She wants to shout that she is not done examining the strange sea stones, when she hears the rushing sound of water. Next thing she knows, Crum has flung her over his shoulder and dashed after Harry.
The girl watched as the fruit trees were engulfed, their fruits pulled free from the branches to be carried along with the waves.
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"What were you thinking?"
"Luna could you be a dear and bring me something to eat? All this adventuring has left me famished."
The blonde smiles pleasantly at him. "Right away doctor. There's some nice peaches still in the fridge. I'll just go get them."
"Don't you ignore me!" the Griffondor shrieks.
Rolling his eyes, Harry leans back against the railing, and grabs a piece of fruit from the barrel. The second his teeth break through the skin, he gags.
"You idiot!" Hermionie runs to his side, "That was one of the fruits from the cave! Quick spit it out, it could be poison!"
The bitten fruit drops to the deck as Harry scrubs at his tongue with his fingers. "That tasted horrible!"
The girl was in a near panic flitting around her captain, previous rage forgotten. "That fruit has a seriously high concentration of that sea stone element that eats magic in it. It could have serious consequences on your magical core!"
"The sea does not like to share her treasure," Luna sing songed as she brought a tray of real fruit from the galley. She offered the delicacies to Harry. "Here you are doctor."
He gratefully took a bite, letting the juices wash over his tongue. "I'm fine Hermionie. I can just do an examination of myself in the medical bay. Trust me," he said taking another bite of peach, "I'm a doctor."
She smacks the back of his head. "Not yet you aren't."
Harry's eye twitched. "Get off! To breathe I need some room!"
Blue light flared under his hand. The crew fell silent watching apprehensively.
"What was that?" Fred asked. Hermionie looked on the verge of having kittens.
The captain smirked. "Interesting."
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"Your magical core is shrinking," Hermionie said softly. "Most likely from the seastone mineral built up inside of that fruit you ate."
"Yet I can do this," Harry waved his hand vaguely through a circle of blue light. "And are you sure it was the fruit? Why not from the water in the cave itself?"
The girl pondered this. "I don't think casual contact with the mineral dissolved in water is enough to cause this much damage to your magic in such a short amount of time. You would have to drink gallons for enough of sea stone to build up in your system Not because it takes a large amount to eat magic, but because it is so dilute."
She shook her head. "No, even if you breathed in the gas phase water naturally in the air from that cave, your condition is too far progressed. The shrinking of your core is in an exponential manner, and tracing the curve back mathematically puts the beginning exposure amount as very hight."
Harry hummed. "I notice you have no explanation for what I've gained by eating that fruit as well."
She threw a mug at him. "Thats because it shouldn't be possible without your magic!"
He laughed.
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"Where did all the water from the cave come from?" Hermionie chewed her lip.
Harry shrugged. "I think I activated a trap or something. I could see something just beyond the tunnel's edge just before it flooded."
"I'm just worried that such a large amount of water thrown into the sea like this might have serious ecological consequences...not to mention what would happen if any of that sea stone makes its way to a magically populated area...the results could be catastrophic!"
"Oh stop panicking," Fred yawned from his resting place against the mast. "What's the worst that could happen?"
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"Right, I'll let him know. Remember, constant vigilance!" Fred hung up the snail phone and walked to the unofficial medical room. "Oi, captain!"
Harry looked up from his examination table where a long nosed shark with prehensile teeth lay. Blue light segmented the still living creature into pieces under the boy's careful watch. Fred would be disgusted normally at such a cruel display, but having been taken apart a few times himself, desensitization set in.
The weird powers Harry gained in place of magic after eating that fruit were frightening, but the older boy preferred if he was in control of them. Hence all the 'practice'.
The captain had had an unfortunate accident in the kitchen with some pepper a few days prior. Every time he sneezed a blue dome would envelope the ship, plunging the crew into a nightmarish trip where gravity reversed itself and objects randomly switched places (sometimes with your limbs. If Fred heard a 'so you've lost your head' joke one more time...).
Even one of the Weasley Twins (tm) had an insanity limit before just giving up all hope of reason.
A living heart encased in blue beat in the palm of Harry's hand. "What do you want?" he said to his communication's officer.
Fred ignored the dangerous tone in his voice. "I just got a call from Boot. He says there has been excessive movement of Voldemort's forces through the castle, like they're preparing for something. He also needs to talk to you personally about the 'extra credit project' you assigned him to."
The brunette sighed and took off his plastic gloves. "I guess it's time to return to England then."
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Breaking into Hogwarts was not as difficult as it at first appeared to be, considering all the death eater's guarding the premises.
He simply borrowed Fred's map of the castle grounds and used one of the secret passages located in the basement of Honeyduke's sweet shop.
The exploration party swam beneath the lake near the castle, waiting.
Creeping unseen through the halls, Harry made his way towards the meeting point with the other members of his crew.
Stepping into the library, he made towards a familiar corner. He didn't have to wait long.
"I used the information you sent me to do a thorough search of the castle," Terry said quietly, not facing the stretch of wall Harry stood beside. "We found a 'piece' in an old junk room attached to the room of requirement. One of my Slitherin informants mentioned hearing that you-know-who recently bestowed an 'honor' on Belatrix."
Footsteps echoed down the hall, causing the Ravenclaw to hunch further over his books. Harry moved his hand, unseen under the invisibility cloak. One of Terry's buttons was replaced with a scrap of paper.
The boy blinked in surprise, face forced to remain impassive. Unfolding the paper, he glanced at the writing and gave a tiny nod.
Harry smirked.
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Hermionie produces a spray bottle from his pocket and calmly squirts the golden cup with water collected from the bottom of the sea. The horcrux screams, emitting a black cloud, before falling silent.
She pulls a notepad from his pocket and crosses off a line. "And that's the last one on the list." A tiny slug appears in her hand. "What's next captain?"
The snail blinks sleepily. "Regroup at Hogwarts. It's time to end this."
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"Room."
A light, wavering like a pane of glass, spread to encompass the battlefield in a dome of light blue.
Voldemort hissed. "You should be dead Potter!"
Harry calmly strode forward, one hand tucked in the pocket of his long coat, the other holding a long sword over his shoulder. It was the same sword he pulled from the sorting hat all those years ago to defeat the Basilisk. "Funny thing about the killing curse," he says conversationally. "It reverses the impulses in the nodes of the heart; the backlash causes the brain to seize. Instant death." He smirked. "Luckily I entrusted my heart to someone else today."
He struck.
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Much later, after all the horcruxes were destroyed and the battle ground stilled, Harry snuck through the castle grounds away from the celebrations.
Skirting the edges of the forbidden forest, he approached the lake, where a small party of individuals clustered around the water's edge.
He smirked. "So is this to be the last meeting of the Heart Pirates?"
Terry Boot snarled something under his breath, and Susan Bones looked sheepish. The boy spoke for the assembled crowd. "We played spy and black market for you during Voldemort's take over, why would we keep fighting after the war is done?"
Susan glanced hesitantly at the Ravenclaw. "We just came to say thanks, but we don't want to be apart of it all anymore."
The group of assembled students shuffled off, none of them meeting their former captain's eyes.
"Why indeed," Harry breathed.
"I'll sail with you doctor," a dreamy voice spoke up from behind one of the trees.
Harry blinked. "Thank you Luna, but I think I'll need a few more people to properly manage a ship."
"Hey captain, you aren't going to forget us, I mean me, are you?" A tired grin topped with red hair emerged around the castle wall.
"Fred, don't you have a joke shop to run?" a smile tinged the edges of Harry's words.
The no-longer-a-twin shrugged. "Lee can look after things till I get back, and I've been due for a vacation." He joined the duo by the water. "By the way, where are we going?"
Harry stroked his chin (he should really try growing a beard) and shot sparks over the water with his wand. A medium sized ship rose from the depths, revealing a young woman wearing a white fur coat entwined around a man with a hat that said PENGUIN.
"Hermionie, where did you want to go again?"
The girl scowled at him interrupting her christening of Crum's new ship. "We are going to see the glaciers, and if you side track us before we get there, so help me I will use your hide for a rug!"
Harry chuckled and glanced at the speechless ginger and unfazed blonde. "Fred, we should get you a nice hat for the cold weather. Something with earflaps or maybe you could grow out your hair..."
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Epilogue
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The world did not change much one hundred years after the death of Harry Potter.
Muggles complain about the rising sea levels and subsequent strange weather patterns. Oceanographers rave over shifting currents and geographers will panic over moving tectonic plates.
The wizards lament the rising number of squibs born to pureblood families, but after another three hundred years (when magic has become swallowed by the sea) it does not matter all that much.
Eventually the world turns significantly more blue, and people (human and other) set sail across the new frontier.
Some history is written, some is erased, even more is created.
In the ocean to the North, just before the great age of piracy is about to begin, a stoic little boy with black hair is born.
"He's such a serious child," his mother coos.
"Probably gets that from your side of the family," his father sighs, failing once again to make his son laugh by tickling his feet. He wrapped his arms around his wife. "I always found that cute about you."
"Not in front of Law!" she giggles.
The baby in question blinks without giving away his expression, and chews on the ear of his stuffed white bear.
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Author blah
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I wanted to write this even while I was writing Light My Fire, my other OPxHP crossover where Ace is reincarnated s Harry instead of Law like in this fic. There HP cannon does not change very much, because Ace, I believe, would react similarly to cannon!Harry in key circumstances. Here...well, Law destroys the world while trying to see how it works.
It is difficult to get a firm gauge on Law's mental state: is he always so ambitious with his plans, or is it just for the arc he is in now? Who knows. I tried to play off his reputation as the Surgeon of Death, but made it more of a 'I wonder what this does' feeling than 'I am enjoying your screams right now.' Well, most of the time anyway.
As for Hermionie's behavior...her best friend is a sadist whose greatest joy is getting a rise out of her. Can you blame the poor girl for picking up some attitude?
I 3 reviews!
Who do you think I should do next?
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Bonus: Alternate Scenes
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"Expecto Patronum!" Harry shouts. Something big and furry bursts from the end of his wand.
A silver polar bear, taller than a man, barrels into the dementors causing them to scatter across the lake side. Harry blinked; was that kung fu it was using?
Satisfied that the enemies were gone, the bear jogged back to its master. Rearing up onto its hind legs, it wrapped its arms around Harry in a joyful hug, before vanishing.
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As it turns out, returning to the sea floor to mess with 'the power the dark lord knows not' is not a good idea.
Hermione is angry, despite his ernest pleas that he was bored, and what did she expect him to do on a friday night? After all, it didn't change their lives all that much, and the ship survived intact.
She counts backwards from one thousand twice before asking him how exactly he managed to rearrange the continents to form a ring of land around the now water covered earth.
"I understand how the sands of time in the cave could speed up the ice caps melting, but how did you manage all the rest?"
Harry smirks. "Magic."
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