Harry was dreaming, and in the dream he was remembering.
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He was five, hiding from his father, Orion. His mother's screeching voice filled his ears as he ducked into the library. Cousin Andromeda was there, and he held his index finger to his lips, eyes begging her to not give him away. Her gray eyes were lit up like silver clouds in a thunderstorm, more importantly they were laughing, and she nodded. Later she snuck him biscuits from the kitchen. He truly loved his cousin Andy...
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He was protecting his pond, herding the younger fish away from the shallow water, away from the nets. Tadpoles were abundant this time of year, and very delicious. The sun was warm on the water...
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He was a girl this time, and boy was that confusing. Summers were spent in France, and his parents were incredibly supportive in everything he attempted. Crookshanks was a fine animal and wonderful companion; the partial kneazle had been a lifesaver. He ran for Minister of Magic and won, and though he wasn't the first female, he was one of the few witches who reached such a position. Her birth as a muggleborn and her role as one of the Golden Trio aided her, and she petitioned for equality, changing many laws about the treatment of magical creatures.
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He died in battle, young and with his twin, Fabian. He only wished there was more time to watch his little sister get married. She was the last of the Prewetts, and the line would end with her when her name changed. Somehow he didn't think he'd make it to the wedding. Bleeding out, he smiled as tears joined the red stains; he couldn't bear to think of her crying...
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He had been born into a hidden colony of High Elves. After the war with the Dark Elves, the High Elves had captured and converted their darker counterparts; they had been cursed to become lesser beings, a parasite. Intelligence diminished, forms twisted and warped, slaves to magic itself. Like symbiosis, they formed a dependent relationship with lesser magical beings, in exchange for servitude. Over time the magicals, formerly mages, lost a great deal of their power. Their descendants became witches and wizards, andthestory of house elves faded to obscurity. Harry lived long enough to watch the last of their kind die.
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He married Ginny, had three kids, and became the head of the Auror Department. Hermione was his sister in law, and they spent Sundays at the Burrow. He watched his children, and then his grandchildren grow up. Life was good without war, if a bit quiet.
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He was born in a dragon sanctuary, to a breed of Eastern Dragons with manes, feathers, and golden scales. Harry's mother was the matriarch of the clan, the largest and strongest. Led by such a strong Queen, it was expected that her children would be the best. Harry was born small, sleek with lithe muscles, and quick. His scales had been blue as he hatched, with a green tint to them. But over several months, Harry's scales hardened, sharpened, and turned a rich green, though various metallic golds and bronze scales made up some of his markings. The handlers at the sanctuary feared for his safety; dragons didn't accept differences. In a clan of giant behemoths, all of which were various shades of yellow, gold, orange, brown, or red--- Harry stood out as a small, slim, green dragon. But his venom was stronger than any other members of his clan, so he held his own. His bite caused paralysis, muscle spasms and death, though some of this was his saliva and some was due to the large venom sacks at the back of this throat. A warrior with a skill, he was respected but outcasted; he never mated.
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He was Severus' familiar, an albino raven. His parents had pushed him from the nest when he had hatched, white feathers, a pale beak, and red eyes. Severus found him beneath an old tree, cold and dying. He had found him, cared for him, raised him, trained him. He lived in Spinners End, watched young Severus grow. They were closer than ever after they formed the familiar bond. His years at Hogwarts were wonderful; he died in his master's fifth year, taking a curse meant for the future potions master. Severus never recovered, and the Death Eaters recruited him not long after.
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He was so very tired. Darkness all around him.
[["Surprised to see you so soon, Master,"]] rang a deep, raspy voice. [["Your corpreal form is not fully tied to your essence, or soul. The resonance needs to be higher to fully accept your abilities. Because of this, I have further altered your form, mixing in the strands of your past; this will help. But now a warning, Beloved of Death; you have the option to use the abilites of My domain and three others. However, if your resonance is too low, your body will die. Be at peace and know We are watching."]]
Darkness spun around him and the world fell away.
He awoke two days from the incident. His hair had grown down to his chin, and feathers framed his elongated ears, mixed in strangely with the long black strands. The nails on his fingers and toes were sharp and black, more like talons than nails; his teeth became sharp points, resembling something ferocious, beastly, and possibly canine.
Harry was also missing the last two of his fingers on his left hand, and part of the smallest finger on his right. Bandages covered his hands and part of his chest. This was all because of the teleportation incident with the tiger.
Harry was conflicted overall. How was he supposed to fit into the timeline when he stood out so badly? The original timeline called for Hogwarts and friendship before a battle to the death. How could he possibly fit in looking as he did? He didn't ever recall seeing a magical looking as he did now, and Harry had lifetimes of experience to say that he honestly knew that with confidence.
Petunia was tightly attached now, and even Vernon's complaints couldn't sway her devotion.
"For heaven's sake, Vernon, the boy is my nephew! If I had been more attentive, this never would have happened! I will be his guardian and he is family. That is final!"
Vernon blustered and begged, but Petunia would not be budged.
Harry didn't attend primary school due to his abnormal appearance, and Petunia took to homeschooling like a fish to water. Dudley was developing nicely this time; without his parents spoiling and intently focused on showering him with gifts and food, Dudley was a kinder cousin, and quite a bit smaller. Harry inwardly wondered if having Petunia and Vernon give him a sibling would have helped in the original timeline...
Harry and Dudley were raised as virtual siblings, and without his father to instigate and approve of his bullying and violence, Dudley was a lot more tolerable. In fact, with Petunia's hands-on teaching, he made pretty good grades. Dudley was a child who learned best through both visual demonstrations as well as hands on. The difference between Dudders the Bully and Dudley the brother was like night and day.
Harry didn't go out often unless it was past sundown. His appearance was too strange and he stood out like a sore thumb. To try and increase his exposure to fresh air and his peers, Petunia bought him an overly large pullover jumper with a hood. Though it covered both his hands past his fingertips and nearly reached his knees, Harry was grateful; at least it was a new sweater, not a castoff.
With his jumper and baggy pants, most of his appearance was hidden. Petunia had hidden his face with a scarf and black sunglasses. Though this camouflaged him well, it was a slightly suspicious outfit, even on a young boy.
Harry was slightly frustrated, but there wasn't much he could do. He wanted to lay low till his Hogwarts years, but had little way of doing this. If he had any magical tools he could craft jewelry with runes to hide his appearance. But at this time, Diagon Alley was inaccessible. So he bore with the discomfort and the hiding.
It wouldn't be too much longer till Harry was eleven and his Hogwarts letter arrived; he'd figure out what to do when the time came. For now, Harry tried to live a simple life on Privet Drive.