Chapter one

:Parsletongue:

"Regular speech"

Notes: This is a repost of a story I took down to rework. I don't own anything. As of 12.12.15 this chapter has been rewritten completely, so if you read it before now, I highly recommend reading it again as a lot has been added. Anyways, I just felt that my Harry was kind of a useless character with no backbone, so this is me trying to fix that problem.

Harry Potter and the Runespoor's Vision

When Harry was about nine, he had taken to spending his recesses in the library. This was mostly to avoid the dreaded 'Harry Hunting' as Dudley and his gang called it, but also because it was October, and starting to get cold. Harry didn't have a proper jacket, and Uncle Vernon had told Harry several times just that very morning that Harry was lucky to even have the clothes on his back.

The best thing about the library was not the books, seeing as by now Harry had read most of them. The best thing was not the librarian either, even though sometimes she brought him hot chocolate and let him check out three books instead of two.

No, the best thing about having recess in the library was the man who came every Friday, always dressed in a threadbare sweater and pants with holes in the knees. Miss Howell told Harry that this man was her cousin, and that he came to eat lunch with her on Fridays in between classes he was taking at the University.

Usually when he was there, Harry hid in between two shelves with his meager lunch and a thick tome and listened to the man talk animatedly with Miss Howell.

So far all Harry had been able to deduce about him was that he was very poor, lived with his friend in the country, and seemed to have some kind of sickness that made people reluctant to hire him.

One Friday Harry was late coming into the library because his teacher had made him stay behind to pick up a mess he had made when Dudley had knocked him over. The man was already there, leaning against Miss Howell's desk with a look of righteous indignation on his face.

Harry hung in the door way and tried not to be seen but Miss Howell looked up and smiled at him. "Hello dear," she said. "Come to return your books?"

Harry nodded shyly and stole a sideways glance at the man. Upon closer inspection, the man was rather tall, with greying brown hair and brown almost amber eyes. He had scars on his face and down his throat, even on his hands, but they were pale with age.

He offered Harry a quick yet rather tired smile.

Miss Howell smiled at the man and then at Harry. "Why don't you tell Harrison what you've learned at the University?" she asked him. "He's a very bright boy and I'm sure he'd find it interesting. In fact, he's already read half the books in this room."

As the man looked Harry up and down, Harry decided not to protest Miss Howell's incorrect usage of his name.

"It's not very interesting," The man protested weakly. "I don't want to bore him."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Miss Howell. "Sit down."

The man did sit, at a table full of books and papers, and after an encouraging smile from his librarian, Harry sat down as well.

The man started explaining to Harry about a man named Karl Marx, about his country and what life had been like in his time. At first, Harry only listened politely, looking longingly towards the comfort of his shelves every few instances.

But as the man continued to talk, he grew more and more indignant and impassioned and Harry couldn't help but hang onto his every word. He told Harry all about conflict theory, and how the bourgeoisie used everything in their power to keep the proletariat down, so much so that the proletariat did not even realize that they were being oppressed so that the rich could remain in power.

"That's horrible," Harry found himself saying, thinking of his life with the Dursley's. "What did Marx think that they should do?"

The man's smile was rather grim and twisted. "He said that the proletariat should rise up in a bloody revolt to take back what was theirs."

Harry understood why the man looked grim. From what he knew of the man, it sounded like he and his friend were in the same spot as the proletariat of Marx's world, being beaten down by larger society and being taught that they deserved it.

"No one comes out of the womb thinking that something or someone is wrong," the man had sighed. "It's just what society has taught you."

As Harry thanked the man for sharing what he learned, it occurred to him that perhaps he was also in that position. Not that he could rise up and kill the Dursley's for his freedom, but it seemed he was indeed being oppressed.

"People deserve basic human rights," the man had cried, and Harry rather agreed with him. He went back to class feeling significantly enlightened.

That was the last time he had seen Miss Howell's cousin. Later, when he asked, she told him that "those weird police people came around looking for him. Said he was stirring up trouble, giving people ideas. If he's any kind of smart, he and that boyfriend of his will be out of the country by now."

"Boyfriend?" Harry asked.

Miss Howell shrugged. "Just some guy he was living with, Greyback or something. He was bad news, if you ask me."

It was nearly July when the Dursley's left Harry alone for the weekend. And so he was sprawled out across the floor on his stomach, chin resting on his bony hands. He was watching a snake in a glass tank several feet long. It belonged to Dudley, of course, but what the Dursley's didn't know couldn't hurt him.

It wasn't fair, he thought. Dudley got to do everything he wanted, but he had to stay locked up in the house so the neighbors wouldn't see him. And it was even worse now that he realized that he didn't deserve this. Harry sighed to himself.

:Stupid human: The snake hissed to herself, winding around a branch. :Sits around feeling sorry for itself. At least it has a nest. At least it is warm:

The boy glanced over his shoulder briefly and then back at the snake. His green eyes were so wide beneath his glasses that it was almost comical. Quickly, his hand darted out and he turned on the red heating lamp above the tank.

The snake looked at him calculatingly, if snakes could have any kind of look. :Hmm perhaps this one is worth something after all. And it does not look like a meal. Perhaps it is not completely stupid:

Harry cast another furtive glance at the snake, but kept his mouth firmly closed. Surely he was hallucinating. Snakes couldn't talk, could they?

He sat up, drawing his bony knees to his chest. Oh god, either way, he was such a freak. Then he shook his head. He had to stop with that kind of thinking. He wasn't a freak. He was a human and he deserved better than constant berating from the Dursley's. He didn't have to believe their lies.

The snake flicked her tongue at him. :Are you completely useless child?:

Harry scowled fiercely.

:Well?: The snake asked expectantly.

:Well what?: he snapped.

The snake drew herself back in surprise, then settled. :Good: she said, nodding her great head. :This is very good. You will do just fine:

:Sorry?:

:Hatchling, I require you:

The boy crossed his arms. :My aunt will be home soon, and she'll be upset if she finds me talking to a snake: he said.

:Hatchling: she said, irritably. :Those are the worries of lesser mortals. I have decided. You will be my human, and as such, you will need a name:

:I have a name!: The boy exclaimed.

:Do not be ssuch an ignorant Gryffindor. You do not have my name, stupid boy:

:What about you?:

:My name is Ethelinda, hatchling, and you will be called Aeron Samael:

:What does that mean?:

:Carnage and sslaughter. Accuser, seducer, destroyer:

The boy frowned at her. The image those words painted made him think of the bloody revolution that Miss Howell's cousin had spoken to him about. :That's awful:

:But it is true. Carnage and slaughter follow in your wake, child. And you will be all that I have called you. I have seen it:

:Seen it?: The boy didn't look as though he believed her.

:I am a Runespoor, stupid boy. The most magnificent of snakes. I see great and terrible visions. I have decided you are too impressionable to be left on your own. We will complete the bond that binds familiars to their wizards. You are mine now child:

Harry looked a combination of mutinous and bewildered. The set of his mouth proclaimed defiance, but the rest of his face appeared confused. :I don't undersstand:

:You will. Take me out of this infernal cage:

:But – :

Ethelinda snapped her great jaws at him. :Now:

Harry nearly tripped in his haste to get up. He opened the tank and picked up the great orange and black snake, which was nearly his own length. She wrapped herself around him, settling on his shoulders. :We will complete the bond now:

:What?:He lurched suddenly, swaying on his feet as a warm dark presence enveloped him.

When Harry came to, he was in his dark cupboard with a wet cool towel across his face. The small space smelled of stale sweat and he felt feverish and hot. He had no recollection of having got there.

"Ethelinda?" He asked weakly. He crouched on his knees and pushed the cupboard door open. There was a shifting sound and he opened the door to the sight of the giant snake lying on the floor as if she was guarding something.

He jerked back when he saw her. :You – you have two heads:

:Of course. I am a Runespoor. Our kind always has 3 heads:

:Three?: Harry choked in surprise. In all of his time at the library, he had never read about three headed snakes, or even talking ones for that matter.

:We bit off our other head while it slept. Too critical, alwaysss looking down on us:

:Why didn't I see it before?:

:Stupid humans. They only see what they wish to see, Aeron:

:My name is Harry: the boy said tensely. He was not sure he liked this snake, as she continued to insult him and call him by things that were not his name. Reminding him vaguely of the Dursley's.

:Don't be ridiculous. Your name is whatever I want it to be: She shook herself up. :Come, hatchling. I do not wish to stay here any longer. I have had a great deal many visions whilst you slept, and it is urgent that we find a new nest:

:My relatives -:

:Will not miss you. Come:

Harry felt a ripple of fear and delight roll through him. Leaving. This was his revolt, his freedom, he thought as he picked up his familiar, allowing her to rest on his shoulders, half curled around his throat.

:You must cast a glamour. I do not wish to be seen:

:How?:

:Stupid child. Simply imagine within yourself that I am invisible, and I will be:

Harry, half in disbelief, did as she said, pausing for a few moments.

:Good: she hissed. :You are quite powerful for a hatchling. Now take us outside:

Magic, he thought, feeling a sense of nervous dread. Magic was something that truly existed and they were leaving for good. He'd always dreamed of someone coming to take him away from the Dursley's, but his dreams had never been quite like this.

:Hold out your wand arm:

:My what?:

She flicked her tongue. :Now, child. Your wand arm: Her body tightened around his right arm.

:Oh: he said, confused. He held it out.

The last thing he was expecting was a deafening bang and a flash of blinding light. He crouched on instinct, flinching. He could feel Ethelinda's faint amusement and disgust.

:Too flashy: she hissed. :Too purple. Wizards have no class:

Harry stared at the purple clad wizard who leapt out of the Knight Bus, and he couldn't help but wonder if this was all a dream, that perhaps he was having a nightmare. People did not talk to two headed snakes, or ride magical buses that appeared out of thin air.

The wizard was staring at him expectantly and Harry blinked. "Oh, er –"

:London, tell the imbecile we wish to go to London:

Harry grudgingly did as he was told.

The wizard leered at him. "Whereabouts in London then?"

"Um – "

Ethelinda let out a sigh. :Gringotts, hatchling:

"Gringotts," Harry said awkwardly. He'd never heard of it.

"Right then. Will the Leaky Cauldron be close enough?" At Harry's hesitant nod, the man began to tell him how much it would cost to get there, but a hiss from Ethelinda disrupted his concentration.

:Imagine within yourself that you have already handed him the money. Tell him you have done so and look into his eyess. You are stronger than this weakling:

Harry felt a tightness in his stomach at doing something so obviously wrong and frowned slightly. He didn't want to lie and steal. Didn't that make him as bad as Marx's bourgeoisie?

Ethelinda did not appear to feel the same. :Now is not the time for doubts. Do as I say and have your silly human moral crisis later:

Harry scowled, but stared the man in the eyes. "I've already given you the money," he said, concentrating hard.

The man blinked. "Ah, yes," he said uncertainly. "Aye, you 'ave."

Harry's scowl deepened and he stomped to the back of the bus and sat down, nearly falling over himself as the triple decker shot off.

Ethelinda laughed at him. :Stupid humans and your delicate moral sensibilities. If it bothers you so much, think of it like this. You are not a human. You are a snake masquerading as a human. Stupid like a human too, but not hopeless:

Harry tried not to respond to her mocking.

:Not mocking, teasing:

Harry was doubting why he had ever thought this was a good idea. Sensible people did not do what snakes told them, and she made him feel stupid as well. Just like the Dursley's. He didn't feel adequate enough, couldn't feel adequate enough, when everyone talked down to him like this.

:Look at you, feeling sorry for yourself again:

Harry glared at the seat across from him as the voice tickled his ear.

:You are only a hatchling, after all. Nearly ten. I suppose it is only natural that you would be so stupid. Worry not. You will grow out of it:

The ride to London had given Harry very little time to think. Several times he toppled straight out of his seat, much to the amusement of Ethelinda.

:Get up, get up: She hissed urgently. :You look like a fool, hatchling. One would think you'd never ridden the Knight Bus before:

:I haven't!: He hissed furiously.

She flicked her tongue at him. :Stupid boy, you should have said something:

Harry nearly growled. He was quite tired of her, but the thought of sending her away filled him with such an acute sense of pain that he shoved the thought from his mind. He was stuck in a nightmare with no one for company but a bossy two headed magical snake. He wasn't hysterical, but there was a tight pressure building in his chest.

:Do calm down. They're going to notice you've left at some point and they'll be after us as quick as can be:

:I thought you said they wouldn't care: he snapped, stumbling out of bus.

:Not the filthy Muggles, stupid child. The bumbling fool and his loons:

:I don't know what that means:

:You wouldn't. Now come, quickly:

Harry hurried down a narrow passage that led into the Leaky Cauldron. The pub was tiny and grubby looking, very dark and shabby. There were several people crowded at old wooden tables holding their drinks or smoking out of long pipes.

Ethelinda hissed that the way through to Diagon Alleys was through a grimy looking wall by a trashcan that was near over flowing.

"Excuse me," Harry said to a pale young witch in dark purple robes that Ethelinda had directed him too. "I haven't got a wand yet, and I need to get through."

The witch was remarkably understanding. She walked with him over to the wall and brandished her wand with a flourish. "Three up, two across," she said cheerfully, tapping the wall three times with her wand. "Have a nice night, dearie."

Harry forcefully ignoring all of the sights and sounds. He rather thought that the snake would laugh at him if he stared around in wonder, and he had had quite enough of that. He rushed over to the towering white building that Ethelinda jabbed at with her tail and tried not to recoil at the sight of the small swarthy creature standing beside the doors. It was wearing a red and gold uniform, much to his surprise.

Aeron must not have been doing a very good job hiding his surprise, because he could feel the amusement rolling of off his snake.

:Now would be a very good time for those moral sensibilities of yours:

Aeron's eyes flicked to the sign warning against thieves. Right.

:Go up to the counter. Tell the creature you wish to speak to your account manager. Tell them you are called Harry Potter:

:I am Harry Potter: he told her.

:Not anymore: she said.

Harry cleared his throat nervously as he approached the counter with a free goblin. "Er excuse me?"

The goblin peered down at him. "Yes?"

"I wish to speak to my account manager?"

"Your name?" he asked gruffly.

"Harry Potter, sir."

Ethelinda shifted around his neck, and huffed in annoyance.

The goblin looked down his long pointed nose at Aeron. "Very well. Brasgok!"

Another goblin came out, expectant. "A Mr. Harry Potter to speak to you about his account."

Brasgok nodded sharply at him and Aeron trailed after him at Ethelinda's insistence. They walked down several long halls, twisting and turning until they got to a long oval shaped room. There was a mahogany desk at the center and Aeron sat down in the chair in front of it.

Brasgok sat down as well, crossing his spindly fingers in front of his nose. "We have been expecting you for a rather long time, Mr. Potter."

"Er, have you?"

Ethelinda rolled her four eyes simultaneously.

"You were not aware?"

"Um," he paused, but Ethelinda seemed to have decided he was on his own for this part of the conversation. Childishly, he wished he could stick out his tongue at her.

"Um, no I wasn't. I only found out about all this this morning." He gestured vaguely.

"All this?"

"Uh you know. Magic and wizards and all that."

"I see." The goblin pinched the bridge of his nose. "That does create a bit of a problem."

"It does?" Harry asked uncertainly.

Ethelinda snickered. :Tell him you want to know about your properties. Tell him you are looking for a nest:

"I just came in because I wanted to know if my parents had a nes- ahem I mean a house or something? Somewhere I can live. And er, if I'm allowed to leave my relatives to go there?"

Brasgok looked displeased. "Your parents have left you a great deal of properties, Mr. Potter. As well as a vast sum of money, numerous heirlooms, and the vast majority of the entire Potter and Black estates. Of course, most of these are being held until you are the proper age."

Harry looked blank. "I uh, I wasn't aware. And who are the Blacks?"

Brasgok's mouth thinned. "I believe Gringotts is long overdue for a talk with Albus Dumbledore."

:The bumbling fool: Ethelinda said helpfully.

"As for the Blacks, they are a very prestigious wizarding family. The last of them was your godfather. He left the majority of his possessions to you and his closest friend. By making you his heir, your full name is now Harry James Potter Black. Should you choose to accept him as your magical guardian, you will come into your inheritance at 17. Until then, you will remain heir apparent."

:Aeron Samael Harry James Potter Black: Ethelinda hissed happily. :Aeron Samael Black for short. I like the sound of that:

Harry ignored her. "Does it work the same way for what my parents have left me? And what really happened to them, and to my godfather?"

Several hours later, Harry emerged from Gringotts with a modest pouch of gold from his trust fund, the key to the wards of the Black family townhouse, and significantly more knowledge of the Wizarding World then before.

:We need a wand: Ethelinda said, as though they were one entity.

:We do?:

:Of course. We cannot walk about the Wizarding World unarmed, stupid boy. We must have a wand immediately:

Harry squared his shoulders. Alright then. She was right, really. Now that he knew who he was, what he had done as a baby…who knew who was out there?

He started to turn towards Olivanders, the wand shop Brasgok had spoken of, but Ethelinda tightened around him. :No, no. No Light wand for my wizard. I won't have it. Go to Knockturn Alley:

Harry's insides twisted. :Ethelinda: She wanted him to have a Dark wand? After what had happened to his parents?

:Now, please, child, before it gets dark:

Harry sighed in resignation and trudged towards to suspicious looking Alley. She had better not leave him there.