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Harrianne Jamilynn Potter sensed the boy before she ever laid eyes on him. His power sang to her from his blood, so similar to her own yet not. Phantom sensory input left impressions in her mind as the power called to her like a siren singing through the mists, acting as a beacon. The cloying scent of rot, the delicate tremor of decay, the bittersweet taste of honey scooped out of a dying hive, and an echo of Fawkes’ final song—low and soft and sad—reached her from a great distance. She drifted closer, the buzz of awareness at the base of her skull growing in intensity until she found the source.
Still invisible to the world around her, the immortal sorceress imbued with some of Death’s powers stood watching for several moments, trying to get a clearer picture of the situation. The source appeared to be a disheveled, barefoot boy two years younger than her Teddy, so around five or so. Wavy gray-blue hair that no one had washed or brushed in several days hung limply about his face, clumping together from grease and grime. The boy looked traumatized, wearing an unwavering thousand yard stare as he glanced helplessly about him. His thin, chapped lips parted in what Harry belatedly recognized with a dawning sense of horror as silent screams. The horror only intensified when she noted the blood on him. It stained his tiny, trembling hands, streaked up his arms, and soaked his torn clothes. A few droplets had even sprayed onto his face, which bore two scars: one through the left side of his mouth, and one through his right eye from forehead to cheek.
Harry got the feeling something awful must have happened to this poor child. He looked so broken, so hopeless, so visibly distressed. He looked desperate for someone, for anyone, to come save him. She didn’t understand why no one did just that. She watched again and again as passersby would spot him, then avert their gaze or hurry past. Not a single person stopped to check on him. Not a single one asked if he needed help. They noticed, but they seemingly didn’t care, and that made her blood boil. He was a child in need. How could they so callously ignore him? Surely if they were incapable of meeting his needs, they could call for someone else who could? Why did they choose to do nothing instead of at least calling the police?
But nothing changed as the seconds ticked by, no matter how much Harry wished it would. A few people did slow for a moment or so, but they too left without doing anything of value besides some brainless muttering about heroes. One old woman assured the child that a hero would come, then scurried away just like the rest. She didn’t even stay to hold his hand or offer comfort, which he clearly needed. His state left much to be desired, since few would wish to touch him while he wandered around looking like he came from a fresh murder scene, but surely it wouldn’t kill them to sit by his side and talk to him while emergency services came.
After five minutes, Harry had enough. She couldn’t leave this child to wander around injured, traumatized, and covered in blood. She couldn’t turn a blind eye to his suffering. From one second to the next, she blinked back into visibility, startling several people nearby. The boy himself didn’t jump, but his eyes did widen a fraction of an inch. Some of the distance receded from his gaze as he turned those haunted red eyes onto her. Harry forced herself not to flinch. For the longest time, red eyes meant meeting Voldemort face to face, but not here, not now. This poor, innocent child had nothing to do with old Snake Face. Besides, Voldemort had never looked at her like that.
Like she might save him.
Harry squatted to put them on the same level. She didn’t want to startle the poor thing. The motherly part of her that reminded her fondly of Molly Weasley immediately wanted to pull the child into her arms, grime and all. Cleaning and Hygiene Charms existed for a reason, after all. Her sundress and robe wouldn’t mind being dirty for a minute or so anyway.
“Hi there, little one. My name’s Harrianne, but everyone calls me Harry. What’s your name?”
Though she had intended to speak in English, the words that came out of her mouth sounded distinctly unlike it. That turned out to be a blessing in disguise, since she realized too late that the boy might not have understood English to begin with. The haze still lingering in his eyes faded, only to be replaced by fear. The child's hands went to his neck, scratching at skin he’d already clawed bloody. Harry reached out to stop him, but he jerked away from her touch then shuffled further out of reach.
“Don’t touch me,” he whispered, finally able to vocalize but only just. His voice came out low and raspy. He sounded as if he’d gargled broken glass. Without her enhanced hearing, she might not have heard him. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” Harry promised, not moving to avoid spooking him. “My power makes me immune to yours, so you can’t hurt me with it.”
The resonance of his power—his magic?—told her as much. Whatever decay-related power he had would not affect someone so deeply saturated with Death’s power, nor would it greatly affect someone with phoenix tears in their blood or someone who had accidentally swallowed the Philosopher’s Stone in a struggle. Someone for whom all three had happened would then be covered on every conceivable basis. Despite this, her assurance did little to soothe the boy, who flinched when she gently pried his hands away from his neck. His breath quickened, and he seemed ready to have a panic attack for an entire agonizing minute until he registered the fact that, despite her holding his hands in her own, nothing had happened to her.
“You’re not hurt.”
The naked wonder and hope in his voice made her heart ache.
“No, sweetheart, I’m not. Are you?”
The child just blinked at her for a second as he processed her question, then shook his head.
“No.”
“Can I pick you up?”
He considered it for a moment before nodding. He didn’t protest when she scooped him into her arms, instead wrapping his own around her neck and his legs around her waist. Harry ignored the soiled state of his clothing as she cradled him against her body. He relaxed in her embrace, laying his cheek against her shoulder. She rubbed his back to soothe him.
“You’re safe now, darling.”
“Tenko,” he rasped by her ear. “My name’s Shimura Tenko.”
“You’re safe now, Tenko,” she amended, taking the time to hug his tiny, trembling form to her chest. “I see you. It’s okay. I’m here for you.”
A sniffle alerted her to the oncoming tears before he turned his head and buried his face into the side of her neck.
“T-thank you for s-saving me.”
“I couldn’t have ever left you like this.”
She began walking, impervious to the disapproving murmurs around her as she carried Tenko away from that horrible spot. She cast an overpowered Notice-Me-Not before hurrying toward the nearest alley. Once there, she turned into it, ran to the end, then darted down the next one where it branched into another. She took several twists and turns before emerging into a side street that she crossed at a brisk walk. She didn’t know why, but she felt watched.
At the entrance to the next alley, she ducked inside then slammed home the power of the Cloak, hiding them not just from sight but from all sensory perception. Even with that protection, she ran, weaving through mazes of side streets and alleys until she made her way toward what she recognized as a tube station. She descended the steps without bumping into anyone, using her Seeker skills to dodge between the teeming bodies. She only stopped when she reached a restroom, where she took temporary shelter. She lifted the effects of the Cloak again once she scanned the room and found it empty. An absentminded wave of her hand locked the door.
“Tenko sweetie, I need to clean you up a bit before we go on, okay?”
“…okay.”
With great reluctance, Tenko unstuck himself from her, allowing her to set him onto the counter.
“Tenko honey, I want to use my magic to get the blood off of us. Can I do that?”
He gave her a curious look, though nodded his consent anyway.
“Okay. Hold still. It won’t hurt.”
He blinked his impossibly innocent eyes up at her, the beginnings of trust visible in them.
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Okay.”
She flicked her wrist to free her holly and phoenix feather wand from its holster. She still uses it for more delicate tasks for greater control, though she no longer needed a wand now that the Elder Wand itself, along with the other Hallows, had fused with her body.
“Tergeo.”
Bit by bit she siphoned the blood and dust from his clothing first, followed by the mixture of blood, dust, and grease in his hair. His little hands went next, finger by finger, with no nail left unturned. All the while, Tenko sat patiently through it, eyes never leaving her hands as she worked. She Banished the ball of gunk to the sink furthest from them, where it landed with a faint splat against the drain.
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
The calm reply earned him a warm smile that he shakily returned.
“This is really important, Tenko. You have booboos over your lip and eye. Do you want me to heal them?”
The offer clearly appealed to him, yet he hesitated for longer than she expected.
“Please,” he eventually requested.
Harry tipped his head up by his chin with still-gentle fingers, murmuring the spell she learned from seeing Snape heal Malfoy during her Sixth Year mishap. Not one of her shining moments, but at least some good came of it in the end. Snape may have been pants at teaching one of his best subjects, but he provided adequate training in the other, especially on the spot. The healing spell still sounded like a song to her as she chanted it, trailing the tip of her wand over each wound individually. The skin knitted together without much protest, though it would definitely scar without Dittany.
Curses could never claim to be the only force in the world that left scars nothing could heal.
“Vulnera Sanentur,” she incanted one final time to heal his right eye since it appeared to have suffered some damage from whatever gave him the original gash, though his busted lip and crooked nose had her switching to a different Charm. “Episkey.”
Tenko went cross-eyed trying to stare at his nose, which no doubt felt odd. Harry remembered the hot-cold sensation. It might not be painful, but it certainly felt bloody weird. At least it lasted less than thirty seconds. A second murmur of the spell healed his lip. He otherwise seemed fine, aside from his feet. Harry chose to use the Scouring Charm on them to give them a more thorough clean once she siphoned away the blood and dirt using another Wiping Charm. She finished by using Vulnera Sanentur again, then summoning bandages to wrap them. She Summoned her travel wardrobe from within her purse to find something for him to wear. Luckily she wouldn’t need to shrink the spare clothes she had packed for Teddy all that much to fit Tenko.
“We’ll change your clothes out later unless the ones you’re wearing bother you. What you really need though are socks and shoes.”
Tenko’s wide-eyed staring went unnoticed while she stuck her entire arm into a compartment to Summon a tiny pair of red shoes. She brought them out and showed them to Tenko.
“Would you mind wearing these?”
“I don’t mind.”
She Summoned a pair of yellow socks with tiny golden snitches zooming around on them.
“What about these?”
He seemed fascinated with the socks, eyes tracking the movement of the snitches.
“They’re okay.”
The socks and shoes floated in the air for a moment as she put away her travel wardrobe, stuffing it back into her purse. The thick bandages helped to take up room in the socks and shoes, which in turn only necessitated them shrinking a fraction to fit. Harry tapped his shirt to change it from purple to a soft yellow that matched his borrowed socks. His pants received the same treatment, changing from blue to a red that matched his borrowed shoes. Maybe they’d just be his after this. It wouldn’t break her wallet to buy Teddy a new pair later. He probably wouldn’t even notice them missing. The little Metamorphmagus tended to favor his yellow shoes anyway, to the point that he’d gone through several pairs already in his short life.
“There,” she muttered, doing a few last minute repairs to his clothes to make them less ragged. She couldn’t make them look brand new, but they went from being in tatters to merely being faded and worn. If anything, it lent to the overall aesthetic of old hand-me-down clothing. It would do for now. If nothing else, it would help disguise them on camera.
Speaking of which—she touched the tip of her wand to Tenko’s hair, turning it jet black like hers for the time being. His eyes too took on her coloring. Rather than vanity, she saw it as a safety measure since even now she could feel a seeking presence in the city. She’d probably have to perform the Nuukh Suens on him if this persisted.
The presence that sought him had more than a hint of malice behind it. The Nuukh Suens was a powerful cloaking spell used specifically to conceal or shield a child from harm or evil coming for the child, but unlike most spells taught at Hogwarts, it wasn’t performed with a wand. Instead it required ingredients much like a potion: the sete ervas, or seven herbs, and a nazar, aka an evil eye charm. Even in another dimension, it shouldn’t be too difficult to source said plants, but she could just as easily call Kreature, Dobby, or Winky to her side and ask them to bring them to her.
Later, though. She could perform it later. Priorities. Tenko needed something more immediate to shield him from view. Using her holly wand, she traced the sigil for ‘hidden’ on his forehead. It shimmered into existence for one brief moment then faded into the wrinkly skin there without a trace. It would last for the next moon cycle, after which she’d have to renew it or cast another protection. It would conceal him well enough until she could perform the Nuukh Suens, which would last his entire childhood. Whoever wanted to find him obviously didn’t have good intentions at heart, and Harry was loath to leave a child in such a situation unprotected. It reminded her far too much of Voldemort’s search for her as a toddler.
“What are you doing?”
Tenko sounded more curious than upset about her precautions. That boded well. It meant he likely wouldn’t be alarmed by the results of her magic at work. Figuring he should get to see for himself, she picked him up and walked him over to the mirror.
“Just some things to clean you up and keep you safe. Is this okay?”
His eyes widened in surprise when he first caught a glance of himself. Tenko studied his reflection with a fascinated air. Special attention went into tracing the pale scars by his lip and eye, as well as his clothing. Unfortunately, he got so distracted with his new appearance that it took him a moment longer to respond to the sound of Harry’s voice when she spoke.
“Don’t worry about your hair or eye color. It’s not permanent.”
“Oh. It's not? So my hair’s not black again?”
“No, but later we can make it black again for real if you want.”
Tenko grew quiet as he contemplated the offer.
“Can I think about it?”
“Of course you can. Are you ready to go?”
Tenko glanced at her face in the mirror.
“Where are we going?”
Harry smoothed down an errant curl.
“Well, for now I think we should find a place to stay. I want to get you fed and properly bathed first, for one thing. I’d also like to put a better, stronger protection on you once I have access to the materials. Would that be all right with you?”
“Does this mean I get to stay with you?”
“If you want. If not, I can try to find someone I trust to look after you unless you have family members you would prefer to live with instead.”
The little bit of progress they’d made evaporated as the mention of family caused Tenko to shut down. The child went nonverbal, while both hands reached for his neck to scratch at the newly healed flesh. Harry turned the now squirming boy around in her arms so she could once again gently take his hands in one of hers, this time before he could gouge fresh wounds into his neck. A whimper escaped from deep in his throat as tears beaded at his eyes. Harry cuddled him as if he were her own, doing her best to soothe him for the second time.
“Shh, hey, it’s okay, Tenko. We don’t have to talk about them. I’m sorry I said anything.”
Ten minutes elapsed before the fit passed in full. Harry spent the entire time rocking the five year old as if he were a fussy newborn, murmuring soft reassurances and stroking his hair after his fingers went toward clinging onto her instead of doing harm to himself. Tears had fallen onto the collar of her robe, moistening part of it with the salty liquid. Not that it mattered. All that mattered was the terrified, traumatized child in her arms who took persistent coaxing to comfort. A heartbroken whine slipped from between his lips, preceding one of the most heartbreaking pleas she had ever heard.
“Please don’t leave me. I don’t want to be alone.”
“I won’t leave you, Tenko, I promise.”
Another five minutes passed of Harry just taking time to hold Tenko until he finally settled, going limp as if the entire ordeal exhausted him. Perhaps it had. She Summoned a blanket out of her bag, draped it over him, then waved a hand to unlock the door. She readjusted her grip, cast a Temporary Sticking Charm so that someone couldn’t just rip him away from her without a fight, and exited the restroom without a backward glance. Slipping into the crowd unnoticed proved easier than anticipated, though she still had no idea where to go. A disembodied voice announcing the next train over the intercom provided her with an answer. With nowhere better as a destination, Musutafu sounded as good as anywhere.