Chapter Four: Harry's awakening
A mop of untameable black hair obscuring bright green eyes and a tiny blonde with a cheeky smile greeted Xander when he returned to the windowless room the four now called home. It had probably been a cellar at some point as it was sunken into the ground, and wooden double doors guarded the entry way, but it was long since abandoned, which suited the four men – children – elves – pixies? – whatever they were now – just fine.
“Xander!” The two small figures started talking and shouting at once, and the blonde tackled him, before attaching his small body to Xander’s like a limpet.
“One at a time guys,” Xander grinned “please. I can’t understand either of you when you both speak over the top of each other. Now,” he pointed at Harry “Green-Eyes here can go first,” he then turned his head to look at the tiny whisker-marked face of Naruto, who had attached himself to Xander’s back, stick-like arms and legs wrapped around his neck and waist, “then you can have your turn, alright Sunshine?”
Naruto nodded furiously “Hai, Xander-nii.”
“Good. Now, what’s up Green-Eyes?” Xander smiled down at his second littlest brother. Harry was only an inch taller than Naruto, and his bright green eyes seemed to dominate his face. He’d undergone the same transformation as the other three, and now had delicate points gracing the tips of his ears, which peeped through the unruly mop of black hair that topped his head.
“It’s back! Xander, my magic’s come back!” The joy on his little brother’s face was infectious, and Xander found his own grin widening.
Harry had been unable to feel or access his magic since the day he had awoken in his brand new body to the sound of Xander’s screaming. At first he’d thought that he’d merely been disarmed, the now baggy thigh holster empty of his familiar wand of phoenix and holly, but he’d realised soon after that his magic just…wasn’t there anymore.
Harry knew how to exist without using magic – hell, until his eleventh birthday he’d fervently believed that the stuff didn’t exist – but he’d never been without his magic. He didn’t have to wield it, it just was. It had always been there, humming underneath his skin. He’d never paid that much attention to it before, there was no reason to.
And all of a sudden, he’d been, well, empty.
The most essential part of him, the part that made him Harry, was suddenly gone. Not locked away, or even bound buzzing beneath the surface, but gone.
It had been a heart breaking discovery.
He’d swiftly added to Xander’s horrified screams with deep, heart wrenching sobs. Harry felt like he was dying all over again. This was worse than Dumbledore’s manipulations and lies. Worse even than the horrible confrontation with his friends that had resulted in his death.
His magic was gone. Harry had been so distraught, that he hadn’t noticed the screams come to a halt, or the arms that crept around him from behind. It wasn’t until someone began singing in stilted, broken English as they rocked him that Harry became aware once again that he was not alone in this strange stone room.
He’d looked up through eyes that no longer needed glasses and saw a slender brown-haired boy cradling a smaller one with hair the colour of sunshine.
Then the brunette lifted his gaze from the tiny figure in his lap and had looked at him.
Harry had abruptly realised that he wasn’t human. Couldn’t be, not with such uncommonly beautiful features – even the missing eye and scars didn’t detract from the fact that he was more stunning that Fleur had ever been. Of course, the pointed ears the boy sported were another indication that the boy, who looked to be about twelve, wasn’t entirely human.
The small figure in the other boy’s lap had shifted and fixed Harry caught only a glimpse of delicate scars on each cheek and brilliant blue eyes before the blonde had burrowed even deeper into the brunette’s embrace.
“Little-small one? Are alright?” The question had come from the person who was rocking him. Harry had been unable to do more than shake his head, sobs beginning to take over him once again.
“Shh…It will OK, Small-little one. Must you go sleep now. Sort out fix it later, hai?”
Harry had nodded. Sleep had sounded like an excellent idea. He had lain there, in the arms of a stranger, taking comfort in the warmth of another, as the stranger had resumed his sad, soothing song in his strange, stilted English.
“Thank you.” He’d whispered, to the purple eyes he’d glimpsed when the stranger had adjusted his hold on Harry. “Thank you.”
“Sleep, Little-small one, just sleep.”
Harry had smiled then, just a tiny curl of the lip, but it had been his first true smile in a long, long time.
And he’d fallen asleep.