Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ McGill ❯ Sean Alistar Hayes Daton ( Chapter 2 )

CHAPTER TWO: Sean Alistair Hayes Daton

Harry gasped as they slowly shimmered into the back room of a store.

Carmus smiled gently, moving them to a corner. Kneeling on the ground, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. "Harry, come here. Let's wipe off your face a bit, then we can go shopping. We'll get you some new clothes for now. Tomorrow, we are going to a special place, a magical place to get stuff for your room."

"My room?" Harry whispered.

"Yes, at my house, you will have your own room. Remember, I asked you if you believed in magic?" Carmus knelt down and pulled his wand from the holster in his pocket. "I am a wizard. This is my wand. It's rowan with gryphon feather and basilisk scales. And you are a wizard. Now let's take care of that bad sunburn and get you a shirt, then we can go shopping, okay?"

Harry nodded.

Carmus smiled gently, his eyes locked on Harry's while he cast a small spell to heal the sun abused flesh before wiping Harry's face with the handkerchief. Holding it up, he waved his wand at it and it changed into a shirt. Laughing at the boy's wide eyes, he cast a cleansing charm as well as a resizing one on the shirt before handing it to him.. Smiling, he took Harry's hand again, smiling down at the young boy. Harry looked at his clean hands and tugged on his shirt.

"MAGIC?!"

"Yes, little one, magic. Now let's get some clothes that fit so we can destroy those, okay? And why not look for some toys?"

Carmus laughed as Harry almost ran into the door. Opening it, he levitated the huge stuffed tiger up the steps in front of the boy. "Follow the floating tiger, you can have a bath in the morning, when I can be sure you won't drown yourself. Just skin down to your shorts and hop into bed. Tomorrow, after breakfast, we'll go get stuff for your room. Night, Harry."

Harry grunted as he followed his stuffed animal upstairs.

Carmus laughed again and headed for the den. Sitting down in his comfortable dark blue wingback chair. The fire crackled before him. Sighing, he walked over to the table and sat down. Opening a drawer, he pulled out a bottle of fine whiskey and a glass, setting both of them on the desk. Opening the drawer above it, he pulled out a large book. He smiled as his hands caressed the thin parchment pages. Sean wasn't a total nontraditionalist. Sure enough, Sean didn't like giving cryptic prophecies in rhyme or epigrams, however, he still wrote them down on parchment.

He let his fingers run over the letters on the page. Sighing, he turned towards the inside cover and the letter placed there with a sticking charm.

Dearest Carmus,

By now, I have been dead almost five years and you are still moping. Never fear, Sean to the rescue! No, really, I do have a job for you. It's rather important. It's also why I always stepped in when your father bitched about what your granda was teaching you. I knew then and I know now, it is needed. More importantly, you enjoyed it. You were having fun learning about the underlying nature of magic.

It's why I pushed for you to go to Uni. There were many paths ahead of us. In all of them, I died. In some of them you die alone, in some of them you die fighting for a cause, but in the Prophecies that I have given you, I hope to show you a spray of middle paths. Paths that lead to you living a long happy life full of love. I hate to restrict myself but I must. I can't let you live your life through Prophecies. I want to see your way through all your problems, but I mustn't. I mustn't. So instead, the books I left you only give you some general instances. Some, I ask you to do because it's necessary. But enough of the past, now of the future. Your future.

Harry Potter.

I told you once that you would use all that education learning, even if you never sat for your teacher's cert. Now I call on it. I need you to rescue a child. He was placed in a home contrary to his parents' will. They are dead, of course. The 'one who steals and mines minds' has placed him there, you know of whom I speak. I see the reasons why the 'one who steals' claims he placed the child there. I see the 'one who steals' plans. I see the 'one who steals' authorize payment for the child's upkeep. I see the 'one who steals' as he welcomes his flames reborn. I see the 'one who steals' visiting the redheaded clan and I hear him mention the child and that he will be on the train in muggle clothes. I see the 'one who steals' visiting a beautiful child with wild brown hair and a love for learning. I see the 'one who steals' giving her a book, a history book. I hear him tell her that history is still alive at Hogwarts, that history always repeats itself and that this year a rather special figure from recent history will be there.

Already he twists and turns and knits his web. None other have been told but a scion of a proud Light family and a muggle child who sees in only two shades.

If Harry stays with his relatives, he will grow up to be older wiser and somewhat happier. He will lose his godfather, who is innocent, and he will lose his own innocence. Year after year, he will be tested in such tests that even you would quail at. The belief behind this is by tempering gradually you get the better steel. Steel shatters, Harry is not a sword, he is not a weapon, he is not a tool. However that is how he will be viewed and used. The wizarding culture will turn and turn again like worm gyres. Tortured by guilt, he will seek to prove himself a lion over and over again, risking life as if it was not precious! Lions do, because lions dare, though beaten, bravery persevere. Buying into that belief, he belittles his pain to be worthy of his house. He is loyal, he is smart, he is cunning, and he is brave. Whatever house, he should ultimately end up in; he will always be these things. I see him deny his proper house though I heard not the name, he believes it evil. I see the redheaded child whispering in his ear. I see strings of sickly grey in the children's head.

I see the school embroiled in the war, which should not be! He would make it a camp of an army. Those children will be his soldiers. They will fight and die for no reason except for their belief in him. I see children tortured in the hallways. I see our dark and beloved third, our other self, our brooding snake give into his hate. I see him allowing so much to happen just to save our Harry, giving up his joy, giving up part of his soul, allowing others to fall even if it wounds him. A choice will come whether to sacrifice his godson who he loves as his own or Harry. I do not want him to be trapped by his oaths to give up the child he loves. I see the 'one who steals' murmuring platitudes as he plans, ignoring those whose pain would block his plans.

So I close this letter with these words. Do with them what you will.

Harry James Potter resides at #4 Privet Drive.

Sean Alistair Hayes Daton

Carmus sighed and lowered his head to the desk. He would not let Severus torture himself for life and sacrifice himself over one mistake. He would not let Harry turn into a sword to fit the old man's hand. There had to be path among the thousands that could save Harry and Sev as well as allow them all to be happy, for once. There must be.

Sitting back, he poured some whiskey into the tumbler and just sipped it slowly as he watched the fire. Silently, he pulled out a sheet of pale green linen paper and leaned forward to compose yet another hard letter.