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_Ace_
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Little Harry Potter was born near the end of July with much expectation. A group of his parent's friends, including a band known as the Maureders, crowded around the proud parents in the hospital room on the much anticipated day.
"He looks just like James," Serious coos upon seeing the baby's wild black hair. Remus prods his side, laughing at the man's gooey tone of Voice.
"But he's got my mother's freckles," Lily giggles, kissing her son's plump cheeks.
"And my father's eyes," James chimes in kissing just above the dark colored irises.
No one mention's the ugly red splotch of skin covering the baby's chest and back.
Later after the crowd had gone and the couple had taken their new baby home, the new parents considered the birthmark together.
Lily wanted to cover it up with magic or perhaps plastic surgery before Harry got too old. James, growing up in a culture where superstition was accepted as fact, interpreted the birthmark as a good omen.
"James it looks like someone tried to rip his heart out through his chest!" she protested, but her husband remained firm.
"Birthmarks tell a lot about a person's character," he told his wife. "My grandfather Roger was born with a scar all around his neck. He always said it meant he would never lose his head in a crisis. I've never met a more carefree man, but when he was serious no one stood in his way." He smiled, "Our boy will grow up to be very brave with a big heart, I just know it!"
After a few more hushed words, Lily relented on the condition that Harry could ask to have it removed when he was older.
They never lived long enough to ask.
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Since the day he arrived on their doorstep, the Dursleys did their best to make the boy feel unwelcome in their house.
Petunia tried forcing chores on him, only to find the child nodding off in the middle of such activities a mowing the lawn, doing laundry, or cooking over an open flame. When he fell asleep while dusting a rather expensive vase, she sent him to his cupboard without any meals, before bending down to clean up the shattered mess.
Vernon took a more direct approach.
"Your parents were drunks who dies in a car crash, landing us with you! You're an ungrateful waste of space who is better off not having been born!"
"Shut up!" the usually stoic child screamed. "I don't have to apologize to you for being born- my real family is glad I exist!"
"Well where are they boy?"
Harry's mouth clamped shut and hot tears collected in his eyes. Vernon smirked in triumph.
Later, under the stairs, Harry punched his growling stomach into silence, eyes wet.
"They're out there," he whispered, unshakable conviction in his voice. "I know they're out there somewhere."
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When Harry was seven, he vanished from Privet Drive. Over a month passed before his primary school called asking why he had not been attending class. Uncle Vernon blustered something incomprehensible, before dialing the police for a long over due search.
They found the boy in a glade just outside the suburbs living contentedly in a self made tree house fending off some wild dogs with a piece of piping.
The officer charged with escorting him back to number four cringed at the boy's foul language upon seeing the house. The woman, who the officer could only assume was the boy's aunt, tearfully clutched the child to her side with a vice like grip, thanking the officer profusely for returning her poor troubled nephew to her.
As the police man walked down the path to his car, he glanced back to see the boy glaring at him through the window. It was a look he saw only on the faces of those who found themselves once again behind the bars of a maximum security prison after escaping.
He shuddered, before slamming the door of his car and speeding away.
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It is by coincidence that Harry spies some boys playing with stiff bits of colorful paper on the bus during a school field trip to the museum of natural history. It was free, so the Dursleys only grumbled a little before allowing him to go.
"What is that?" he asks the one whose closest to him, named Michael.
"Cards, of course. You dumb or something?"
Dudley had no care for games without flashing lights and explosions, so boardgames and playing cards were nonexistent in the Dursley household.
Harry scrunches up his forehead. "No, you're dumb. Can I see them?"
"No!"
Harry scratches his cheek and fishes around in his pocket. Vernon's wallet, Petunia's wallet, strange lady's necklace, watch from the corner shop...ah there it was. "I'll trade you for this video game."
The boys contemplate the gaming system Harry has stolen off Dudley's dresser that morning, and hand over the deck. "We're done playing with them anyway."
"Thanks."
He flipped through the deck quickly, before pausing on one particular card. He taps Michael on the shoulder.
"What?" the boy hisses, in the middle of defeating the first level boss.
"What's this card called?"
"That's and ace."
"Ace?" Harry blinked. "Why is it special?"
"It's higher than the king or less than a two in value, depending on what game you're playing."
"Huh," was all Harry said before settling back into his seat, eyes fixed on the ace of spades.
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"A wizard? Are you sure?" the boy's voice sounded disappointed.
"Hasn't anything strange or unusual ever happened to you?" Hagrid asked.
Harry remembered reading a book called Treasure Island for class and it bursting into flame in his hands when the name 'Blackbeard' was mentioned.
"Nothing too unusual."
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The goblin behind the counter of Gringots frowned at the boy, who bounced giddily at the sight of all the jewels being weighed around him.
"Quite a lot of treasure you guys have here!" the human child grinned.
The goblin sneered, pulling the scales away from where sticky thieving fingers might reach. "Quite."
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Year One
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The hat slid down over his large forehead, obscuring the other students from view.
"There's courage in here I see, and not a bad mind either," the hat said in his ear. "A deep sense of loyalty as well, now where to put you..."
Harry waited patiently for the hat's verdict.
"No opinion on where you want to go? You seem to be looking for something, and Hufflepuff's are great finders."
"Who has the best parties?"
The hat chuckled. "Quite the celebratory one aren't you."
"Only when it's victory being celebrated!"
"A thirst for adventure and fun...better be... Griffindor!"
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Though saving someone from a mountain troll inevitable makes them your friend, Harry truly began to appreciate Hermione when he saw her playing with fire.
"Can you teach me that spell?" He asks her, eyeing the bluebell flames dancing around her fingers with awe.
She blushes at the attention and walks him through the wand motions.
Soon the Boy Who Lived is walking around the courtyard, body covered in flickering bluebell flames. He thinks it a great joke to sneak up behind unsuspecting students and scream shrilly as though he was being burnt alive.
One such prank on a seventh year leaves him with a face full of water and a stern lecture from Professor McGonagall. He is told that he was no longer allowed to cast that spell for the remainder of his first year at Hogwarts. He also got a week's worth of detention for scaring other students.
His only regret is that the flames are blue and not orange.
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Harry tilted his head to the right.
The bird in Dumbledore's office copied his motions.
"Yoi!" croaked the haggard phoenix, before it burst into flames.
Harry leapt back, an arm raised protectively in front of his face. "What the hell?"
The fire died down abnormally quickly exposing a rumpled chick with beady eyes. "Yoi! Yoi!" it cheeped.
Laughing the boy pets a finger down the bird's downy head. "You're something, aren't you?" The chick chirps and wiggles itself into a sprawled position of his palm.
"Ah, I see you have met Fawks!" came Dumbledore's voice from behind him. Harry turned, phoenix held close to his chest.
"Fawks?" The bird's blue eyes blink up at him. "Huh, I think he looks more like a Marco."
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Harry looked into the mirror of Erised.
A gangly boy with freckled and wavy shoulder length hair parted over a large forehead stared back at him: his reflection.
Rolling waves splashed around him and the horizon melted blue against the sky.
A ship danced across the water, a grinning white face against a black flag waving merrily atop the mast. Indistinct figures waved at him from the deck, grinning like drunken lunes, inviting him to join their crew.
Near the forefront of the group a straw hat capped boy cupped his hands around his wide mouth, shouting futilely through the glass for him to come aboard.
The invisibility cloak is damp before Harry wipes his eyes with a fist.
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The aftermath of the first Quidditch match of the season found Harry passed out on the floor of the Griffondor common room clutching a tankard of the Weasley Twins' acquired butterbeer, a wide smile plastered across his face.
The next morning, Wood manhandles the team to the pitch in order to do a run down of all the failed plays of the game, and practice until they were performed flawlessly.
All the players groaned, except Harry, who mentally prepared himself to fly with hangover.
"You are being unreasonable," Katie shouted at Oliver. The other chasers nodded their agreement.
"I agree," crowed Fred (or maybe George). "Don't you Harry?"
The youngest player in a century shrugged. "He's the captain, we're his team. It's our job to support his ideas, no matter how stupid we think they are."
There was a beat of silence in which everyone glanced at him oddly.
"That's the kind of dedication I've been talking about!" Wood said tearfully, hugging the seeker like Harry was his favorite person in the world.
"Oi Captain," Harry growled, head still pounding from last night, "get off."
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"What do you think the dog's guarding," Ron asked as the trio poured over library books futilely trying to find mention of Nicolas Flammel.
"Treasure," Harry said.
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Harry looked at the tiny bottle. "There's hardly enough there for one swallow. Which one will let you go back?"
Hermione pointed at one of the medium sized bottles.
"You take that, and go for help."
One tearful goodbye later and Harry was alone in the room. "Here I come," he muttered gulping down the insides of the tiny bottle.
As the black flames tickled his skin leaving him unburnt, Harry couldn't help feeling nostalgic, but for what he did not know.
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"Aren't you going to ask me how you defeated Quirrel?"
Harry blinked. "Huh? Oh, I touched him and he burst into flame."
Dumbledore sent him a searching look. "And you don't want to ask me about that?"
"Uh," the boy frowned at his fingers. "You mean it wasn't supposed to happen?"
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Year Two
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Harry stared at the green powder handed to him by Mr. Weasley.
"Floo?"
"Traveling through fireplaces to get to Diagon Alley."
"Traveling...through fire?" A wide grin split the boy's freckled face. "Wicked!"
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Gilderoy Lockheart tried to call Harry to the front of the class to read excerpts from his books all of two times.
The first time, Harry was drooling on a book asleep and Lockheart did not see him.
The second time, the professor tried to shake him awake, and ended up with a face full of blue fire curtesy of Harry's wand. It took his hair being lit on fire for the man to learn to leave Harry alone, no matter how loud his snores became.
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A smirk curled its way onto Harry's face as he felt the massive coils of the Basilisk land on the Chamber of Secret's floor.
Fire flooded his veins as adrenaline pumped through his body, cheering for the dangerous battle of man against beast to begin. Fear never crossed his mind, even as the snake's venom spread through his blood.
"Yoi!"
Harry cracked open his eyes to catch a glimpse of fire flickering on top of one of the emerald columns.
"About time you got here Marco," he mumbles to the crying phoenix.
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Year Three
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Diagon Alley, while full of magic and wonder, failed to hold the entirety of Harry's attention for an entire summer. He found himself sneaking peaks into Knockturn Alley. Despite his disastrous first visit his second year, Harry decided the place looked too interesting to ignore. Unfortunately after the third identical shop of black magic, it too lost its luster, and he found himself sneaking past Tom the barkeeper into muggle London.
The Leaky Cauldron was situated in what would politely be called the better parts of down town London. Harry walked down the road unconcerned for his safety, it being the middle of the day.
Three blocks in, a dingy shop with dust clogged windows caught his eye. A bell jingled as he walked in.
"See something you like?" the man behind the counter asked, inked arms crossed over his chest.
Harry looked up from the display of piercings. A wall of drawings decorated the area behind the man. Harry pointed.
"Can I have that one?"
The man sized him up. "I don't think you're old enough."
Harry pouted and reached into his pocket for some gold. "Would this be enough for you to do it?"
The man smirked. "I don't know where you strange people keep getting those gold coins, but I can't say it's bad for business."
Several hours later with a bandage across his shoulder. He unwrapped it in his room at the leaky cauldron, pleased at the design.
He had contemplated getting the skull and crossed bones on his arm, but felt it too close to the dark mark for comfort. The ace of spades playing card was a good second choice.
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"The patronus charm summons a protector to fight against dememtors, but you must think of one of your happiest memories in order to summon it."
Harry frowned at his wand and the rattling trunk containing the boggart they would be using for target practice. "Any happy little thought?"
"The more wonderful the better."
Harry racked his brains, before settling on the magical weekend the twins, Ron, Hermione and himself found where Hagrid kept the little first year boats and took them out for a spin across the lake.
He let out a breath. "Alright, I'm ready."
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"Expecto Patronum!" he shouted at the group of dementors crowding the lake side. A wall of fire burst from the end of the holly wand, coalescing into a skull atop a pair of crossed bones.
It screamed wordlessly, spewing flames at the throngs of darkness. The creatures scattered, leaving two figures (Harry and his godfather) passed out on the shore.
The flaming skull drifted back to Harry, grinning widely under a crescent mustache. "The hell kind of animal are you?" he muttered, reaching out a hand to touch the jolly roger.
It vanished.
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Fourth Year
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Harry confidently walked into the enclosure. At the opposite end of the ring, the Hungarian Horntail eyes him and hissed.
The boy grinned. "It's not my first year any more!" He crowed, before lighting the air on fire. From there it was only a matter of walking through the sea of flame to the dragon's nest.
Later in the medical tent Hermione stopped crying at him long enough to ask what he though he was doing back there.
"My fire doesn't burn me," he said reassuringly, "but it distracted the dragon enough for me to get the egg. Besides, it provides nice cover in case the dragon tried to toast me. You know the stuff repels real fire?"
She smacked the back of his head for making her worry.
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The Judges looked at the fourth champion snoring by the side of the lake, the other competitors having already gone into the water.
The judges shared bewildered glances, while in the audience several acquaintances of said champion hung their heads.
The referee nudged the boy, who snorted, blearily looking around after his nap.
Ludo Bagman cleared his throat, "You better get going, don't want to be left too far behind."
Harry leaned back, one brow raised, arms crossed over his chest. He yawned. "I can't swim."
Bagman paled, thinking of all the money he was losing betting on the Boy-Who-Lived. "Have you tried a bubble head charm, like what that other Hogwarts boy did."
Harry shrugged. "What can I say; I'm an anchor. Have been ever since..." He scratched his head, "well forever I guess."
Cedric won the second task with the highest score, followed by Victor and Fleur. Harry, who spent the hour asleep, received a full round of zeros, with Karkaroff actually trying to give him a negative score.
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Fifth Year
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"I can see them too," the pale eyed girl said dreamily from beside the carriage. "Don't worry, you're just as sane as I am."
Harry looked at her, noticed the way his friends estranged her from the group, and smiled. "Thank you. You need a leg up into the carriage?"
She grinned dreamily, "No thank you Mr. Fire, I can do it myself."
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"I've been made Quidditch captain," Angelina said, sitting beside him at the breakfast table.
Harry gulped down his mouth of bacon and grinned at her. "Good for you, you worked hard for it."
She smiled hesitantly. "It was meant to be you, you know," she confided, "but Oliver said you were a bit too young."
The boy waved her off. "It's ok. You will make an excellent captain. I'm glad to follow you."
"Oh," she flushed in embarrassment. "Just don't fall asleep on your broom again, alright?"
He mock saluted her, eggs sticking to the corner of his face. "Aye aye captain!"
-and promptly toppled face first into his toast, snoring gently.
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Harry floated in the middle of the lake, fuming. What with the Ministry being stupid (governments are annoying a core part of him growled), and Umbridge taking away his broom, Harry felt that his anger was completely justified.
When he blew up at his friends, he decided to leave the common room before he did something he would really regret.
Thus here he was now, laying spread eagled in a tiny boat, glaring angrily up at the sky. Splashing echoed against the castle's stone walls, probably the giant squid. He paid it no mind, until something knocked gently against the side of his craft.
He sat up, and saw another little boat identical to his own. The pilot smiled dreamily at him.
"Hello Luna."
"Hello Mr. Fire."
He blinked. "Why are you here?"
"The sea is free to sail upon," she sang under her breath, "but I cannot see the sea. I saw a flock of wrackspurts and decided to investigate, and found you. Are you alright?"
Harry chuckled. "Well now I am." He slumped back against the stern.
"I didn't know Hagrid kept all the boats near the greenhouses, did you?" Luna's dreamy chatter fell pleasantly against Harry's ear. "But I suppose they must be kept somewhere when not ferrying first years across the lake for the sorting."
He must have dozed off, because when he opened his eyes it was nearly dark. Luna's boat knocked gently against his.
"Not to bother you," she said, "but do you happen to know how we can get back to shore? I used a banishing charm to get out here before, but I don't know if it would be strong enough for two boats."
Yawning, Harry sat up and scratched his head. "Yeah, I think I can sail us back."
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"Have you given any thought to your future career?" McGonnagal asked.
Harry scratched his cheek. "Is there a job where I can go adventuring and find lots of treasure?"
She shifted her papers. "The closest to what you're looking for is Curse Breaker, but you need top scores in ancient runes and you never took that elective."
Harry sighed.
The professor kneaded her forehead. "Why not something more suited to your extra curricular courses, say an auror..."
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Harry stares at the Veil transfixed, barely noticing Hermione tugging at his arm.
The sound of waves crashing against the bow of a ship and seagulls crying shrilly envelopes him. Muffled voices shout; Harry can make out laughter and singing between what could be mugs banging together.
Someone's crying- screaming- the mark on his chest burns.
"Ace!"
With a gasp Harry tumbles backwards. A sharp slap across his face brings the room in the Department of Mystery back into focus. "What?" He looks over to see Hermione clutching her hand, eyes frightened.
"Don't go near the Veil, it's dangerous," she scolds him.
"I know!" he grouses, allowing her to pull him from the room. He does not let himself glance back.
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Sixth Year
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Harry grinned at the full shelves of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.
"Giving you a cut of my treasure is the best decision I ever made," he says to the nearest twin.
Fred (or maybe George) glanced at the shelves as well, laughing when he caught sight of what had caught the other boys eye.
"The fire fire fruit! We actually have you and that prank you did your first year to thank for that." He pulled an orange box from the shelf, shaking the palm sized candy fruit within. "Come on baby, light a fire under your pants! Guaranteed to ignite the trousers of anyone unfortunate enough to ingest the fire fire fruit." He frowned. "Unfortunately we couldn't do anything about the awful flavor."
Harry's arms were already full. "How much are these again?"
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Seventh Year
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"I have a bounty?" Harry asked excitedly, craning his neck to see the paper over Hormones' shoulder.
"That is not a good thing Harry," she said, but the dark haired man seemed not to hear her.
"Undesirable Number One? That means I've got the highest bounty, right?" He grinned so widely his face was in danger of splitting. "I wonder what the amount for my capture would be?"
Hermione hung her head and sighed.
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"So we need to rob Bellatrix's Gringots' vault?" Harry grinned. "I've wanted to break into that place since I was eleven!"
Hermione didn't even know why she even tried to reason with him anymore.
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"Why does this feel so familiar," Harry thought facing his executioner. "I'm about to die in the middle of a battle field to protect my friends...my family...the people who are glad I exist."
Voldemort smirked expectantly and raised his wand.
"Will it hurt?" Harry fought the urge to run a hand over the angry red birthmark marring his chest. "Does it matter?"
Green flooded his vision, and Harry's body crumpled to the floor, smiling.
"No...it doesn't..."
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Bright light pushed against Harry's eyelids, and he threw an arm over his face to block it out before rolling over onto his side. Sand flooded his nostrils and he jerked up, gagging.
Something like a baby's cry gurgled against his ears, but was soon swallowed by the waves.
Harry opened his eyes.
Rolling waves lapped gently against the sandy shore, horizon melting into hazy blue. A boat with black sails bobbed in the water, just big enough for one person. Behind him two monuments rested on the crest of the tiny island. A black flag waved at the top of the larger of the two, while the smaller had what looked like a battered orange hat resting atop it.
To the right a lone palm spilt a puddle of shade, and sitting in the shade was a tall figure with white hair. Harry stood and walked over. His arms crossed casually over his bare chest and he leaned his back against the tree trunk.
Ocean spray from mighty swell dappled his face, tasting of adventure.
"This is a nice place to rest, don't you think?" the seated man said gruffly.
Harry shrugged. "More than I expected after dying."
The man laughed, mouth grinning widely below a crescent white mustache. "You lived a good life and many were saddened to see you go."
The dark haired teen shifted. "Is that your ship?"
"No, it's yours."
"Oh." A bird screamed across the sky. "If I go, where will the currents take me?"
"You're the captain, son. Though I hear if you sail to where the sun sets, a mighty fine adventure can be found." Longing laced the man's words, and Ace examined the visible side of his face.
"Why don't you go?"
The man laughed again. "I've had my time; I leave all the adventuring up to my sons now."
Wind pulled at Harry's hair, making his palms itch to hoist a sail.
"I've enjoyed talking with you Pops, but I need to get back. My friends are waiting for me."
"It's not good to keep your crew waiting," the man agreed.
Harry scratched his cheek. "We're really a crew; we don't even have a boat."
"But they're still waiting for you. Best not to linger here too long."
Nodding, Harry pushed himself from the tree to the little boat. Feet dug into wet sand as he pushed it from the dock, not paying mind to the jolly skull flag attached to the top of the mast.
The man under the palm tree watched the black sailing ship vanish out to sea, a proud smile on his lips. He glanced down to the small twisted body which had been smothered by the waves soon after appearing on the island, smile turning feral.
"I look forward to meeting the rest of you and chatting about all those times you have tried to kill my son again."
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Epilogue
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"Mommy, is Uncle Harry going to see me off on the train?" a little girl asked as she walked through King's Cross Station with her family.
The elder woman shrugged. "I don't know, he has been quite busy with his ship lately. I'm sure he will try his best to come, if he remembers." The last bit was said under her breath.
The girl's father laughed and patted her head. "No matter how much he loves the sea, I know he wouldn't miss this."
The little girl looked down tearfully. "Ok..."
Casually the family walked through the barrier between platform nine and ten. The little girl's face brightened at the sight of the red steam engine.
Fire flared beside the unconcerned family, causing the girl to squeal.
"Uncle Harry!" She threw herself at the man who appeared, hugging him tightly around the middle.
He teetered unsteadily and the large red bird on his shoulder flapped to keep them upright. "Ah! Rose! It's good to see you too!"
"You came! You came!" Rose chanted, vibrating with glee.
Harry grinned. "Of course! I promised I would, didn't I?" He looked at the girls parents. "Hey Ron, Hermione."
"Hey Harry," the red haired man chortled. "You still bumming around the Caribbean?"
"Yes! There's an island off of Tortuga with some cursed treasure-"
"Not now boys, we still have to see Rose off to Hogwarts. We can talk shop later."
Thoroughly admonished, Harry looked back to the girl hanging off his waist. "I can't give you your present if you don't let go you know."
Immediately he was released. Laughing he reached into a pocket and pulled out an orange beaded necklace. "Found it in a reck off the gulf. It's a going away present to wear at school."
Rose's eyes were practically stars. "I love it!" she shrieked, pulling it on over her head to rest against the front of her jumper.
"You spoil my daughter more than I do," Ron groaned.
Harry shrugged. "It's so she loves me better than you."
Hermione ignored the men and turned to her daughter. "Now what do we say Rose?"
"Thank you Uncle Harry!"
The whistle blew.
"Now hurry up onto the train!" Hermione said, discreetly wiping her eyes. One final round of hugs, and Rose was off to seek her own adventures at Hogwarts.
Ron patted his wife's shoulder as she composed herself.
"So now that Rose is safely at school, will you two finally join my crew?" Harry asked, grinning widely beneath his orange hat.
Hermione rolled his eyes. "You ask us that every time we meet, but some of us can't go gallivanting around the world after treasure and still put food on the table."
Harry held up his hands. "I'm quite happy that you settled down, Rose is my favorite niece. Just know the offer is always there if you want it."
Ron clasped his free shoulder. "I know mate." He glanced pleadingly at his wife. "Maybe over the summer?"
She sighed. "We'll see."
Harry laughed. "Anyway, I better get going. George wants me to check out the joke shop while I'm in town, then I need to head back to the ship before Luna decides to take the crew off chasing snorkaks. See you!"
Waving, he vanished in a whoosh of phoenix fire.
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Author's Notes
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I had a lot of fun writing this, as well as it's sister story 'Broken Laws', where Law is reincarnated...sort of... as Harry instead of Ace.
Anyway, I love reviews! and if anyone has any questions, I'll try to update and give you some answers!
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Review Replies
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In reply to Lyris's question: Is Fawkes really Marco?
Only Fawkes knows if he is Marco, and the only human he might have imparted the information to is currently trying to out race Jack Sparrow. (There was some messy business with a time turner...)
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To Sakura's question: Has Harry/Ace ever actually tried to swim?
The way I see it, because Harry/Ace believes he cannot swim, he is unable to. If he tried maybe he could, however the thought of going into water to swim is such an alien concept to him.
"Water is meant to be sailed on, not swum in!"
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