The next weeks were horrible for Harry.
Myrddin was a hard teacher. He did not like to repeat things. He was determined to teach Harry Cymráeg as thoroughly as possible before they reached Loandom. So he told Harry the words for everything he could think of. After the first week telling Harry words he started to solely speak in Cymráeg.
It was hard. The week that followed Harry nearly understood nothing of the things Myrddin also was teaching him. Mostly it was herbology and potion-theory. But Harry had to learn and soon he was able to understand Myrddin even he still struggled with answering in Cymráeg. It was his need of the language, Myrddin's dislike to repeat himself and the lack of a notebook that animated Harry to remember words and stuff soon just after hearing them one time.
When they finally reached Loandom Harry had a good enough grasp of Cymráeg to understand the most things Myrddin said and his potion and herbology knowledge had improved. He also had learned to hunt, to cook with an open fire and some other stuff needed in the wild.
"Today we will meet an old friend of mine" Myrddin said in Cymráeg. "He is a staff-maker. He will make you a new staff. This should take a few days. After that I will start to teach you fully. Until your staff is ready, I will start you on writing."
"Writing?" Harry carefully formulated. "Why do you… need me to… start… up writing?"
"On writing" Myrddin corrected absently.
"On writing" Harry repeated.
"So you do know how to write?" Myrddin finally asked.
"Yes… my… writing" Harry wasn't sure how to tell Myrddin that maybe their writing types were different, but Myrddin understood.
"I will teach you to write runes." He said. First Harry didn't understand, but when Myrddin repeated the sentence in Parseltongue he finally did.
"Runes" he repeated the word Myrddin had used, filling it in his vocabulary while thinking that he now would have to learn what he had chosen not to in third year. And there was no Hermione to help him with that. He sighted.
Well, there was nothing he could do to change that. He would have to learn what Myrddin wanted him to learn until he and Myrddin had found a way to bring him back to the future.
At least his feet weren't sore anymore and he had gotten used to walking all day.
"Here we are" Harry stopped when he heard Myrddin's voice.
" Don't forget, lad: don't tell anyone that you are from the future. We will tell them you are from a different country, nothing more - do you understand?" this time Myrddin spoke Parsel tongue to make sure that no-one would understand his words.
" Yes " Harry answered in the same language. That was also something that he had gotten used to. He could chose now to speak Parsel tongue freely without trying to imagine a snake first.
" Good" Myrddin said and then he knocked on the door frame. The door of the small cottage itself was just closed with a simple fur. The village they were in was small - Harry roughly estimated twenty to thirty small, wooden cottages. Myrddin had called the village one of the bigger ones in Britain. Harry did not want to think how big a small one was.
"Come in" a voice said, also in Cymráeg.
"You seem to know who is standing in front of your door, my friend" Myrddin said and entered, holding the fur open for Harry.
"Of course I do. I heard news of your return here and so I was pretty sure to see you in the next weeks. You never fail to knock on my door frame." The wizard who answered was an old looking man with white, bushy hair and eyes so bright that they seemed to have no iris at all.
"Ollivanneder" Myrddin greeted smiling. "Let me introduce my apprentice Harryjames. Harryjames, this is Ollivanneder. He is the best staff-maker in Britannia and my friend."
"I greet you, elder" Harry answered. It was difficult to learn all the different greetings Myrddin told him, but when he glanced at Myrddin he saw him nodding. He seemed to have chosen the right one.
"I greet you also, young one" Ollivanneder answered. "You seem not to be from here."
"I am not" Harry answered. "But my master is teaching me Cymráeg so that I will be able to communicate."
"And he does it well" Ollivanneder said smiling and then turned back to Myrddin. "I understand you need a staff for the lad?"
"I do" Myrddin answered. "I have my suspicions of his ancestry but I am not sure so you will have to test him."
"The lad is a Firbolg-born, isn't he?" Ollivanneder asked and Harry opened his mouth to ask what a Firbolg-born was just to snap it shut the next moment. This was a talk between elders - a child was not allowed to butt in. Myrddin had taught him that and Harry dared not to break this rule. The world he was in was foreign to him so it was best to behave like a child should do here.
Ollivanneder instead seemed to have seen the question in Harry's eyes because he laughed at him. "A Firbolg-born is a person born from parents who were both magical creatures like dragons and unicorns." He explained.
Harry blinked, but dared not to say that he definitely wasn't a Firbolg-born.
"He might be" Myrddin answered. "But I suspect him to be an Olde one." And with a glance at Harry he said. "That is someone whose family is descended from a Firbolg-born and whose blood is still as pure as the blood of the Firbolg-born him- or herself."
"There are just a few Olde families in the world" Ollivanneder said.
"I know."
"So you have a reason to believe something like that."
"Yes, a good one" Myrddin answered but didn't elaborate. Ollivanneder seemed content with that so Harry had to conceal his curiosity.
"So… a staff for the lad." Ollivanneder said instead and looked Harry over. "Well, then come with me, young one. Let's see what we are dealing with."
And with that he left his cottage. Harry looked hesitating at Myrddin but when Myrddin nodded, he followed the other wizard. He felt relieved when Myrddin followed him.
They left the village and entered the forest. There they walked until they reached a hill. On top of the hill was standing a stone-circle with a stone-bed in the middle.
"This is a ritual-circle" Myrddin explained to him. "It is used for healing and other things to do with the human body. You will have to lay down on the stone-bed. Ollivanneder will do the rest."
"Don't fear, my boy" Ollivanneder butted in. "this is a simple ritual. I will need a drop of your blood and a strand of your hair. That is all. The only thing that could feel a little bit odd is when I touch your mind with mine. Don't use Occlumency, just let me do it. I will not read your thoughts."
Harry wanted to ask what Occlumency was but he just nodded and laid on the stone-bed. It felt odd to lie there and to wait that something would happen. When Ollivanneder peaked his finger with a dagger - a ritual dagger - and drew a drop blood, Harry felt nothing. Ollivanneder let the drop blood fall on the ground and suddenly the earth lit up and the stone-circle looked as if it was lit with a hundreds of lamps or with the sun itself. Then Ollivanneder cut a strand of Harry's hair and let it also fall to the ground. Again the stone-circle lit. This time it was too bright to see anything except of white. Then the light dimmed.
"Well, that was powerful" Harry heard Ollivanneder murmur. "You are definitely an Olde one - and a powerful, too."
Harry looked at Ollivanneder baffled. But before he could commend on the older wizards words, sparkling white runes appeared in the sky above him.
Ollivanneder gasped.
Silence, while new runes appeared, this time they were muddy brown. Ollivanneder gasped again.
"Well, that changes everything." He said and suddenly he sounded old and very serious. "That foul thing will have to leave first…"
"Foul thing?" Harry was not sure he heard right and this time he could not stop himself from speaking.
"Yes, foul thing" Ollivanneder said. And erased with a wish of his hand the writing in the air. "Come on, lad - we will have to talk to your master."
When Ollivanneder left the stone-circle, Harry followed him confused.
Ollivanneder's face was grave.
Myrddin who had been waiting right outside the stone-circle raised an eyebrow when he saw them return.
"What happened?" He asked.
"You were right" Ollivanneder said. "The boy is an Olde one. And I mean a really Olde one. He is the heir to an Olde family and a really ancient Olde family."
"So his parents were both…?"
"Yes." Ollivanneder answered. "But that's not all."
"What else?"
"Someone seemed to have used the boy in forbidden rituals - and I mean ritual s " Ollivanneder said. "The first one hefted a foul thing on the boys soul, keeping if from fully forming and the second on was a tried line-theft. Whoever did that has to die, Myrddin. A creature like that has no right to live! Line-theft by a normal wizard is grave - by an Olde one it is beyond… beyond…"
"I understand, my friend" Myrddin interrupted. "Just tell me how to remedy it, and I will."
"The line-theft can just cured with killing this foul creature" Ollivanneder said. "But it has no effect on the lads magic itself. It is just something that should be atoned for."
"It will." Myrddin answered. "I will teach him so that he can judge the thief."
Ollivanneder nodded.
"I thought as much" he said. "The foul thing that it hefted at his soul will have to be removed. It seems like another soul - or a part of a soul. But it is twisted and evil. The problem is the hole it will leave behind. The boys soul must have lived nearly his whole life with this foul thing attached to it - just rescued by a tiny bit of powerful, ancient magic, which stands like a shield between this foul soul-part and the boys own soul. But still, the boy's soul could not build itself fully because of this foul thing."
Myrddin stayed silence, thinking. Harry looked at Myrddin, then at Ollivanneder and then back to Myrddin. He could not understand how no-one in the future had found out about the soul-piece that was attached to his soul.
Why hadn't Dumbledore found it? Or Madam Pomfrey? Or someone else? Had never someone thought about looking him over after the night his parents died - because Harry was sure it was that time Voldemort - of course it must have been Voldemort - had left some part of his soul in Harry.
"Harryjames?" Harry looked up when Myrddin addressed him. "Do you have an idea how and when this soul-piece could have entered you?"
"They tell me…" Harry started.
"Told me" Myrddin corrected.
"Yes, they told me, when I… when I toddler… my parents… die… to… rescue me." Harry finally settled for, this time Myrddin said nothing. "there was a… evil druid… my mother stopped him from… from…" Harry made a helpless gesture, as if someone was stabbing him. He dared not to use Parsel tongue in front of Ollivanneder.
"To kill you" Myrddin said calmly. "She used her own death to protect you. Your father most likely did the same. So the dark druid was unable to kill you in the end and the only thing he could do was to infect you with his soul - which was also mostly prevented from your parents' protection. I am impressed. Your parents must have been some powerful druids to stop him like that."
"So it is because of my parents… I am not… infec… infec…"
"Infected" Myrddin said and nodded. "It was very impressive magic. You should honour them for doing that for you. They must have loved you more than anything in the world."
A single tear escaped Harry's eyes when he heard that. He had often wondered about his parents. Hearing that the magic they used to protect him was powerful enough to stop Voldemort even now was… indescribable.
"I… no one ever tell… told me much… about them" Harry said. "No one I ask know… how… they die."
Myrddin didn't answer but a gentle hand found its way on Harry's shoulder and squeezed it.
"Be proud of them, Harryjames." He said. "we will fulfil their work and rescue you from this foul thing in you."
"What are you planning, Myrddin?" Ollivanneder asked.
Myrddin smiled.
"The boy has the soul of a toddler, when we erase the foul thing in him - why not doing what everyone does when wanting a child?"
Harry blinked confused at these words, but Ollivanneder also started to smile.
"As a Firbolg-born yourself you can do it" Ollivanneder said. "I would be unable, but a Firbolg-born has to give up a part of his soul to have a child. So you are willing to be his father in all - blood and soul?"
"My father?!" Harry asked surprised, forgetting that it was a talk between elders again. But Myrddin did not reprimand him, instead he ruffled his hair.
"A Firbolg-born is the son of two magical creatures who themselves have hard souls." He explained.
"Hard souls?"
"Every magical creature has a hard soul. The longer they live, the harder is their soul. A human has a soft soul. Because of that they are dying easily and don't live long. A druid is a cross between a Firbolg and a human. They have a hard part - which the Firbolg has to give willingly to even have a child - and a soft part, which is inherited by the human without his knowledge.
"Firbolg - especially the immortal ones - can change once in their life-time in a human-like creature and have a child with a human or another human-like creature. Normally they have children with a human - these are called druids - but sometimes, and this is very unlikely but has happened, they meet another human-like creature and have a child with said creature - these are called Firbolg-born.
"The Firbolg-born have one part of the hard soul of one parent and another part of the hard soul of the other parent. So they also have a hard soul and live even longer then normal druids. And then there are the Olde ones. These are the descendents of the Firbolg-born who still have a fully hard soul. These families are also nearly non-existent. I myself do know of two. One is here in Britain and one in Persia. Each family has a physical or a psychical characteristic. I am pretty sure yours are your eyes."
"My eyes?" Harry interrupted. "But… my mother… her eyes." He stuttered.
"I thought as much when Ollivanneder called her family an ancient Olde one." Myrddin answered.
Harry blinked. He knew his mother was Muggle-born so how…?
"My mother's parents… no magic" he finally said to clarify his point. "Parents' parents no magic… parents' parents' parents no magic…"
"Well, that would not surprise me" Myrddin said. "The magic of your mother's family is coupled with the green eyes - when there were no green eyes, there is no magic. I don't think even your mother's family knows why it is coupled with the eye-colour."
"Oh" Harry said while thinking of his aunt's and cousin's blue eyes. When his mother had been the only one with green eyes but the magic in her family was coupled with it… no wonder there weren't more magical family members - and no wonder Harry had inherited her eye-colour…
"So… I am Olde one?" he said.
"Yes." Myrddin answered.
"When children… I give up… soul-part."
"Yes" Myrddin answered. "Like I do. I am the son of a basilisk and a phoenix."
Now Harry stared openly at him, absolutely flabbergasted.
"It is truly like that" Myrddin chuckled. "That's why I am called a Firbolg-born. And that's why I can help you."
"How?" Harry asked while his thoughts returned to the soul-piece stuck in his head.
"We will destroy the foul soul-piece" Myrddin answered. "But we need something to replace it. So I will give you a part of my soul and my blood. Like that your soul is whole and healthy and well - I will have a son."
"But… then your soul… not whole."
Myrddin chuckled again when he heard Harry's words.
"No, that's fine" he answered. "It is different from your missing part. I will still have a whole soul. Maybe I should better call it a copying of my soul. I copy it and give it to you. It weakens me for a few months but after that I am fine - and I still have a whole soul. It's just that normally people call it 'giving' not 'copying'. Don't worry about me."
"What about… my parents?" Harry asked, fearing he would lose them when he accepted.
"They will still be your parents" Myrddin answered… "You will just have two birth-fathers instead of one, because this ritual will not count as adopting, it will count as a second birth with me as your father."
"Oh…" Harry said. "So then I… call you father?"
"You may." Myrddin answered shrugging. "I would like to be called 'father' by my son, but I won't force you."
Harry stared at the man in front of him and suddenly a single thought shot through his mind. "You could have what you always wanted. You could have a family…"
"But… when I go… away" Harry said aloud.
"It will not change anything. I will not hold you back when you find a way home" Myrddin answered. "But even if you return home - you will always be my son."
Harry smiled at hearing that. Better having a family for just a short time than never having one.
"I do it." He said. "How doing?"
Soon Harry realised this ritual was much more complicated then the last one. They returned to Ollivanneder's cottage and the next three weeks they used to prepare for the ritual. Harry was taught how to prepare it and also how to write and read runes. His Cymráeg also improved and Ollivanneder started him on Brezhoneg. Harry hated it. Now he had to change languages when he was talking to either Myrddin or Ollivanneder. But he could see that there was a difference in his ability to remember things. This time he seemed to grasp the new language faster than the last time.
And then the big day arrived, and they returned to the stone-circle in the forest. While Harry helped Myrddin drawing runes and circles in the earth, Ollivanneder soaked the stones and the stone-bed with different potions.
"So… Now I just need to know a few last things" Myrddin said. "I know you don't know your full name so we will have to do it without."
"I know my name!" Harry returned staring at Myrddin.
"Yes, the name you are called, but normally every parent and godfather does choose a name." Myrddin returned. "So Harryjames is likely just the name you mother has chosen."
"Why my mother?"
"Because she has birthed you. It is her right to chose how you are called" Myrddin answered and Harry gave up. He did not know how to tell his soon-to-be father that giving a name in his time was different then here.
"So, what do you also need to know?"
"The names of your parents and your godfather." Myrddin answered. "It is enough, when you know their first and last name. You don't have to tell me their second and third name."
Harry stared at Myrddin. He wasn't sure why Myrddin needed the names because Myrddin had kept quiet about that part of the ritual.
"My mother's name was Lily. Lily Potter, born Evans" he finally answered. "My father's James, James Potter. My godfather's name is Sirius Black."
Myrddin nodded and returned to his work without saying anything else. Harry finally did the same.
Finally they were ready.
Harry undressed himself and then laid down on the stone-bed while Myrddin cut his wrists. Taking the blood of his wrists Myrddin started writing runes on Harry's body - some on Harry's forehead, some on his chest, some on his arms and some on his feet. Then Myrddin healed his cuts and also carved some runes on his own forehead, wrists and ankles. Blood oozed from these wounds but Myrddin ignored it.
He then changed to another dagger and started to carve the runes he had written in his own blood on Harry's body in Harry's flesh. Finally he took some of the blood oozing from Harry's wounds and rewrote the runes on his own forehead.
Ollivanneder activated the circle. White light filled the hill.
And then both, he and Myrddin began to chant while Ollivanneder lit one potion soaked stone after the other with fire. The final one he lit was the stone-bed Harry was lying on.
Harry had thought that it would hurt, but when the flames reached him, they caressed him - and then them and all the other flames suddenly where sucked in him, while the chanting of Myrddin and Ollivanneder started to get louder and persistent.
And suddenly there was pain, unbelievable pain, starting from his scar and spreading through his whole body. Harry would have liked to scream or to curl himself into a small ball but he couldn't. The runes on his body and the circle-runes prevented both.
So he lay there, screaming silently with pain while he heard the chanting of Myrddin and Ollivanneder. And then, suddenly the pain from his body drew back to his scar - and a black mist oozed out of it, screaming with a high-pitched voice. It vanished as soon as the light of the stone-circle hit it.
And suddenly Harry felt empty. Empty and somehow… not fully there. Then he felt Myrddin's hands holding his head. Myrddin bowed down to his knees, invisible to Harry's vision. But Harry could feel Myrddin's lips, slightly kissing his forehead. And then he heard Myrddin speaking.
"You are my son."
The stone-circle lit this time in a blue light, blue flames dancing in the night sky.
"You are my flesh."
The runes Myrddin had written with his own blood on Harry and after that carved them in Harry's flesh started to burn. Blue fire lit them and spread beneath Harry's skin.
"You are my son."
The fire reached Harry's eyes and suddenly he couldn't see anything anymore. His eyes burned and hurt while the rest of his body also started to hurt.
"You are my soul."
Suddenly the empty feeling in Harry vanished and warmth spread through his entire body, succumbed his pain.
Myrddin swayed for a moment before he continued.
"You are my son." He said, his grip tightening.
"I give birth to you today."
The blue flames burned Harry's skin with cold fire. His eyes, teeth and ears began to hurt even more. Than his chest joint them, followed by the veins when Harry's blood decided to burn with blue fire. Finally his skin started to hurt again and his fingertips prickled.
"I name you today. You are my son, your name is Salvazsahar."
This time Ollivanneder joint in. One of his hands got hold of Harry's shoulder.
"I name you my godson. Your name is Serendu." He said.
"I name you your mother Lily's son" Myrddin said. "Your name is Harryjames."
"I name you your father James' and godfather Sirius' son" Ollivannder joint in. "May your name be what they decided for you."
"So be Emrys" Myrddin finished. "Because I named you my son. Be Potter, because your father James named you his son, be Evans because your mother Lily named you her son. Be Ollivanneder, because Ollivanneder named you his godson. Be Black, because your godfather Sirius named you his godson."
A dazzling bright light erupted form Harry's body - and then the pain stopped. His vision returned and he suddenly could see better then ever.
Myrddin let go of him and sighed. Ollivanneder also let go of his shoulder.
"You alright, Salvazsahar?" he asked Harry.
Harry sat up. The inscription on him was gone, his wounds healed and he felt better then ever, as if something in his chest finally had settled.
"Yes, I am" he answered. "I feel great."
Before he could utter another sentence he felt two arms enveloping him. "Thanks to whoever let you live through this!" He heard Myrddin's voice while he was pressed to a warm chest. "I nearly panicked when this thing oozed out of you! I feared I would lose my son before gaining him."
Harry blinked while letting Myrddin - his father - petting him.
"I… I'm fine, atr" Harry finally chocked out, still half buried in his father's tunic. "I am really fine." It felt strange to call Myrddin atr - father - but the same time it felt right.
"So… can you explain why I suddenly have a different name?" he finally asked, looking from his father to his godfather.
"You have been born again" Myrddin answered. "While you still have your old heritage, you are also my son now. As your father and the only parent alive I have the right to choose your given name - and I told you I won't have a son called Harryjames. But I also did not want to change your name so Ollivanneder and I decided to include your old name in the ritual - to be sure it would stay - and just add our chosen names in front of your old one."
"Oh…" Harry hesitated. "So… I am Salvazsahar Serendu Harryjames what ever now?"
"Yes."
"You know, you will have to show me how to write it" Harry said.
His father grinned.
"I will" he said, still petting Harry's hair. "I will, my handsome son."
Harry blinked, then his eyes suddenly.
"Do I look different?" He asked, suddenly worried.
"Not much" his father answered. "Your hair and eye colour are still the same, but now you have more locks then untameable hair. And maybe your face is a little sharper then before. It is nothing anyone would notice."
"Except of my name-change." Harry said. "People are bound to notice something like that."
"Well - you will have to live with it. I did not like the name Harryjames."
"Believe me, I noticed, atr" Harry answered dryly but also smiling. He could not even be angry with his father. A name was nothing his heart clung to.
"Well, then I am Salvazsahar now - Salvazsahar Emrys."
It sounded good to say the name, knowing there was a man who had the same last name, a man who had chosen his given name - a man who was his father.
"So, and now we return to the originally purpose for the first ritual" Ollivanneder said and took out a staff.
"I took the measurements I had from you and your father and build this. It should be perfect for you."
Harry stared at the staff. It was slender, carved with runes and symbols, lines and circles and it was bigger than himself - but it was perfect. He reached out and took it.
In that moment his hands touched the staff, a shower of sparks erupted from its carvings, bathing Harry and his father in red, green, blue and white.
The warmth Harry could feel from it was even greater then the warmth he had felt from his wand.
Harry's eyes lit with green fire.
"It is perfect" He said, still staring at the staff in his hands. "Absolutely perfect."
"It is oak with dragon-blood, elfin-hair, unicorn-blood, Dementor-blood, Grim-hair, Phoenix-tears, Thunderbird-feather and Basilisk-venom."
Harry blinked.
"Why so much?" He asked astonished.
"To tune it exactly for you" Ollivanneder answered. "These are your most important ancestors."
"Are they?"
"Yes. Your mothers had two equally important lines in her blood - two ancient Olde ones. One of the lines had as ancestors a Dementor- Unicorn couple, the other one a High Elven- Elder Dragon one. Your father James was a descendant of a Grim- Thunderbird couple and well, you know that Myrddin is the son of a Basilisk- Phoenix couple. Having the same magic as your ancestors had in your staff eases its use."
"Oh…"
"And the more of your important ancestors you add, the better is your connection to your staff."
"I understand" Harry answered, still looking at his new staff.
"You can shrink it, you know" Ollivanneder said smiling. "To transport it easier. I have a wrist-holster for your shrunken staff with me."
Harry blinked.
"Can I also use it, when it is shrunken?" He asked.
"Of course" Ollivanneder laughed. "But I would not recommend it for rituals. When your staff is shrunken, its connection with you will be less efficient. It will do no good in complicated rituals."
Harry nodded.
"How do I shrink it?"
"Just want it. Sal" his father answered chuckling. "Just want it."
Harry starred at the staff. Then he willed it to shrink - and it did.
"Wow!" he breathed and his father and godfather chuckled again. "So… now we can finally really start with teaching." His father commented, and Harry groaned. He would have to remember more stuff without being able to write it down!