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Reborn As A Squib In Harry potter

Many dream of a second chance in another world, but not every dream unfolds the way you’d hope. Reborn into the Harry Potter universe as a squib, Edward begins at the lowest rung in a society that looks down on non-magical individuals. Yet, Edward is determined not to be defined by this. Refusing to stay powerless, he sets out to prove that magic is more than just a wand's wave.

Mystic_Verse · Derivados de obras
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42 Chs

Gifts of the Heart

"Do you really think the school is going to stay open today after that just now?" I replied, gesturing towards the police car as it sped away. "Odds are the administration is going to be scrambling to figure stuff out and shift blame away from themselves, so they'll let us out early."

Sam nodded slowly, recognizing my point, and we hurried off into the crowd of students as it dispersed. We found Harry waiting for us in the library, years of learning to avoid attention having led Harry to stay away from large groups.

Spotting Harry, I walked up to him, and tossed him a package wrapped up nicely in green and red wrapping paper and ribbons.

"Merry Christmas, Harry," I said with a smile. "I know it's early, but I thought you two might like 'em."

"Wow," Harry breathed out. "I've never gotten a present before!"

I hid my emotions at that, but Sam winced and reached out, jostling Harry's black hair fondly.

"Open it," Sam suggested, and Harry did so, carefully and neatly taking apart the wrapping paper.

His gift was three-fold. First was a nice, warm sweater and a beanie hat. Rather plain looking as both were just a dark blue color with a few orange and red highlights, but I had woven several runes into the items, making them both durable, able to deflect a knife or Stunning spell, and able to grow with Harry. The runes worked by absorbing Harry's own magic to work. The gifts would protect him, hopefully.

The second gift was a pair of black frame eyeglasses. These too were rune-inscribed, the rims of the frame carefully etched with magical sigils that made the glass of the lens nearly unbreakable, weather-proof (like the charm Hermione had used on them, once) and self-correcting.

The third and final gift was actually a couple of things bundled together. They were some bus and train vouchers for travel fare. If he was ever in danger at home, he could use the muggle transit system to get away safely.

"There's something else I had planned, but that can wait until Christmas itself," I told Harry.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Your parents used to live in a place called Godrick's Hollow," I said quietly. "Their graves are there. I thought you might want to go visit them this holiday season."

Harry teared up, unable to say anything, and he immediately hugged me. I froze, taken aback at the affection I was receiving, but after a moment (and a slap upside the head from Sam to shake me out of my silence) I returned the hug.

Sam quietly took the gifts I'd made for him (magical acne cream and a forest green rune-woven sweater of his own) and left the two of us alone for the moment.

It was a sweet moment, and I felt good about what I'd done here today.

"Hey, Harry. Merry Christmas," I called out to the young black-haired boy as he stepped off the bus early in the morning on December 25th.

"Hi, Edward," Harry replied softly. "Merry Christmas."

"Come on, it's not too far," I said, leading Harry down the snowy streets towards Godrick's Hollow. "Did you have any trouble leaving the house?"

"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon have been rather quiet recently. They didn't say anything against it when I asked to leave. Though I think they just didn't want me around to spoil Dudley's present opening."

"Quiet, eh? Do you think they got scared by the vice-principal's arrest the other day?" I wondered, thinking back to what had happened last week. A lot of the more 'opinionated' parents who'd previously loudly claimed that their babies couldn't possibly be bullies had gone suspiciously silent when news that Mr. Birch had been arrested for a bunch of crimes had spread. I couldn't help but wonder if he'd somehow been accepting bribes from those parents, and they were waiting for the other shoe to drop on them.

"Maybe," Harry said with a shrug.

"Well, whatever the reason, I'm glad you're safe," I said with a smile, giving him a shoulder-hug. He smiled back up at me shyly.

A few minutes later we reached Godrick's Hollow. It was a magical neighborhood, one of many that dotted the edges of London's environs. It had a few Notice-Me-Not charms here and there, and a weak Muggle repelling one that kept non-magicals away unless they had business there, like delivering the mail, milk, or the like. Plus a ward to keep any magical activity invisible to outside eyes.

It was a fairly standard set-up, honestly, and as I led Harry through the minor wards, his eyes lit up as he saw the magical Christmas decorations all over. Floating orbs of lights, glowing snowflakes, and animated snowmen were all visible in the front yards of several homes.

We soon came to a certain building near the center, and stopped to look.

"This was my parent's house?" he whispered as he looked at the exploded ruins of his childhood home.

"Yeah, the Ministry 'preserved' it as a historic monument or something," I replied. "I have no idea how legal that is. When you turn eleven and someone takes you to Diagon Alley for school shopping, be sure to ask the goblins what the status of your properties are."

"Right. Goblins are the ones who run the banks, correct?" Harry asked, recalling one of my lessons.

"Yup. A dumb decision on the Ministry's part, in my opinion. Why give control of your wealth to your enemies?" I said with a shake of my head. "But I suppose the wizards didn't have a lot of choices. This was one of the conditions they had to give up in order to get the goblin nations to sign the Statue of Secrecy."

I then looked down at Harry. "Want to see the graveyard, now?"

He nodded silently, and I led him to where his parents had been buried. He stared up at the monument to his family, and one of his fingers traced the words carved into their tombstone.

"My family," he whispered softly. "Did… do you think they loved me?"

"Yes," I assured him. "You were loved. And you still are. You've got me and Sam. And, someday in the near future, you'll make lots of friends and have tons of fun at Hogwarts. You won't be alone ever again, Harry."

He choked back a sob, but nodded, and continued to stare at the headstones, even as new snow began to fall.

Half an hour later, I shook his shoulder gently. "Hey. It's getting late. Let's get a nice, hot lunch. Maybe some hot chocolate as well?"

Harry bobbed his head slowly. "Okay," he said in a whisper.

Then, as we left Godrick's Hollow, he grabbed my hand and in a quiet voice said, "Thank you, Ed."

I just patted his head fondly.

....

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