Au Revoir

So here\'s the next chapter. I know I said I would have it out earlier but I read it over and was like "oh hell no, what is this shit?" and scrapped the whole thing. I fought with it for three days before I was suddenly like what if I write some of it in another POV and bam! It was like magic. So here it is and please enjoy!

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His father wanted to talk to him.



His dead father wanted to talk to him.



Harry could barely hear his name being called over the sound of all his blood rushing to his head. Everyone was worried but he needed a minute or two to wrap his mind around the fact his dead father wanted to talk to him from beyond the grave. How amazing (and creepy) was that?



This was his father, the man he\'d never gotten a chance to speak to properly. He could only recall faintly the deep, soothing baritone that use to lull him to sleep. But those warm brown eyes -- he\'d never forgotten them. The joy and security that shone in them would flash through his mind and calmed him whenever the rest of the world was too much.



How many sleepless nights had he cried, longed for the safety of his mother\'s arms? How many times had he craved the comfort of his father\'s voice? The reassurance that someone, anyone, had ever loved him and put his well being first?



Too many.



He always wondered if his parents were watching over him as he grew. Would they be proud of him or ashamed? He never fought back against any of his bullies, muggle or magical, even with all his power. He would be mortified to have himself as a son if he were in their shoes.



Purple, yellow, and green still decorated his torso and legs from his relatives\'s tender love and care from over the past summer. Day after day, numerous bones were broken then mended themselves, albeit incorrectly, overnight. Scars, old and new, littered his skin from knives, belts, and whatever else Vernon, and Dudley when he let him join in, got his hands on. His only food was old bread crusts and maybe a glass of water when his aunt actually remembered or felt like feeding him. Any time he didn\'t do his chores the way Petunia and Vernon wanted them done (or, you know, breathed) he was thrown right back underneath that tiny fuckin cupboard-- one of the main culprits for his stunted growth. That damage didn\'t include all the little adventures he got into while at Hogwarts.



Thinking of which, the school, while still a reprieve from his relatives, wasn\'t the home it used to be. Not after all the bullying and pretending to be someone else just so he fit in, the attacks on his life over the years, the swift and thorough betrayal of his first friends, and the realization man he use to see as a pseudo grandfather saw him as nothing more than a pawn. And he loved Sirius, he really did, but the wizard didn\'t break out of Azkaban for Harry. He did for revenge against Peter Pettigrew, not because of a desire to see his godson after almost thirteen years.



So no, there was no justification for his parents to be proud of him. His mother and father were a powerful witch and wizard who fought for what they believed was right, even when their conviction put their lives on the line. Harry was nothing more than a coward and a stain on their esteemed names, and now, he was too afraid and wracked with guilt to face either of them. He didn\'t deserve to be called their son.



At the same time, there were so many things he wanted to say them. So many questions he needed answered so badly it was a physical ache. They knew Voldemort targeted Harry, and in turn, themselves. It was the reason all of them had gone into hiding. How could they leave him with people like the Dursleys? Didn\'t they love him? Why had they no plans for him in case they didn\'t survive but Harry did?



Or, said a treacherous voice acidically, did the two expect to survive while Harry died?



That voice was wrong and Harry refused to acknowledge it. He took that thought and shoved into the darkest, most remote place in his mind. Even if he wasn\'t always sure they loved him, he was certain both of them cared about him.



... Right?



******



"Your father would like to talk to you, Harry."



Harry\'s emerald eyes widened and his jaw dropped open. He seemed to stopped breathing as he stared at Sèraphin in shock. After a minute or two and there still no other reaction from Harry, Sèraphin frowned. The twins, Luna, Rèmy, and Draco gazed at their friend with varying degrees of concern written on their faces. Aurèle, on the other hand, wasn\'t surprised by his brother\'s words nor Harry\'s reaction. As a soul Seer, the second oldest triplet knew many things.



For example, Severus Snape loved the smell of lilacs, cherry blossoms, and almonds. He loathed his abusive father just as much as he still loved him. He liked to whistle muggle show tunes when he showered and attended the theatre as often as his schedule allowed. His favorite color was gold, he loved sweets, and he cared and worried about more people than he would admit, even to himself. According to some fancy secret guild he was a member of (and he\'d hidden the name, even from himself, as a precaution), he was the strongest Occlumens and Legilimens in the world. He also wore a complicated glamour to hide the fact he was the King of vampyres (and how cool was that?). Most important of all, the Dark Lord was one his best friend and he pretended to be under Dumblefuck\'s control as a favor to him.



(Aurèle finds the man fascinating for reasons he\'s not ready to admit, alright? Don\'t judge him, it\'s not very nice.)



So yes, Aurèle knew many, many secrets and it was for that very reason, he made sure his mind was absolutely impenetrable. Not even Snape could snoop in his head. (He\'d tried and failed and it still irritated the man.)



It wasn\'t like Aurèle unearthed secrets on purpose. When his gift was first thrust upon him, souls and auras were all he could see until he was almost eleven. There was no other choice but to suffer the debilitating headaches, body aches, fevers, and nausea that came from glancing at a something as mundane as a wall and have a sudden influx of knowledge thrust upon him. (Let it be known, there was certain info about his mother and father he did NOT need to know, especially at nine.) He despised himself for not having the strength to withstand the constant assault on his mind and despised the gift for giving him no other options, and he continued to feel that way for months-- until his attack.



In the aftermath of that incident, not only did Aurèle find himself to be stronger than he thought, but he also learned to be thankful and think of his ability as a gift. That jump started his control over it and he now used it as a measure to keep his loved ones and himself safe, briefly peering into the souls of those they initially meet without remorse.



He did the same to Harry to make sure the Boy-Who-Lived wasn\'t a threat to his baby brother. It took every bit of Aurèle\'s self control not to brawl like a newborn baby. That was the first and only time he ever regretted Touching a soul. Not because Harry was perverse or twisted like so many of the people he Touched.



No, the underlying sadness and the boy\'s need for love was absolutely overwhelming. Aurèle needed to wrap the boy up in his arms; to defend him against all those who wished to do him harm; to show him that someone cared about him and wouldn\'t turn on him the way Granger, Dumblefuck, and Weasley had. So, that\'s precisely what he did.



It wasn\'t easy. Harry reminded him of a rabbit-- small, cute, and excessively skittish. Each brother noticed how hard Harry flinched and tensed from a pat on the back or a hug or any sudden movement really. Hell, Aurèle wasn\'t sure the younger boy even realized he was doing it.



Aurèle refused to give up and kept at it, regardless of what Sèraphin told him because he knew Harry had no choice but to learn to accept simple contact. It couldn\'t be helped with his image as the beloved Boy-Who-Lived. And the first time Harry was able to accept a hug without a flinch or stiffening up, Aurèle beamed like a damned lunatic.



The amount of abuse Harry went through was clear for all to see, and yet, the sheep remained willingly blind. Even though he knew who was responsible and really, really, really wanted them to pay, Aurèle restrained himself. He wanted Harry to trust him and confronting him about it when their friendship was new wouldn\'t be wise. Thankfully, it wasn\'t sexual (and he could tell since Harry was missing the large jagged cracks in his soul it would\'ve caused) or else he would\'ve acted, no matter how much Harry possibly would\'ve hated him in the end. So Aurèle refused to invade his privacy again and resolved himself to waiting for Harry to do it himself.



(But Merlin did he have so many plans for his relatives. So many excruciating and horrific plans that would be carried out for the same amount of time as Harry\'s abuse. Really, having Daddy as a father was extremely beneficial.)



No matter how kind Aurèle pretended to be, he wasn\'t a nice person. At almost fifteen, he was bitter and jaded but with his gift, who could blame him? He only cared about those he deemed worthy and everyone else could eat shit and/or die. His family fell under his protection and now so did Harry, Luna, Draco, Fred, and George (and Snape and Malfoy Sr but he\'ll be ready to deal with that in another year or two). And that\'s the exact reason he wanted Dumblefuck to go down in a blaze of fiery torture.



That, that...thing was not human and would never fool him, Rèmy, or Sèraphin. Dumbledore was a sick and twisted fuck, and as long as he and his Bond lived, the magical world would continue to deteriorate until the people were nothing more than zombies under their rule. Aurèle knew lot of what Dumblefuck had done to ruin the lives of Harry and many others but he\'d covered his tracks so well, there was no proof of any of his misdeeds. Yet.



(Not all, because the man was old as shit and that was years and years of info to sift through when he could only Touch him for two minutes at a time, each week, or he\'d become violently ill for a few days and that wasn\'t a situation he wanted to experience again. The man\'s soul--if the shriveled up and shredded thing could even be called that-- was that perverse and evil. He actually competed with demons, how fucked up is that?)



He befriended Harry and showed the boy just enough affection to get him to trust him unconditionally before ripping it away. Dumblefuck literally gave him first friends ever and a pseudo family and waited until the perfect time for them to betray him. He let the students and staff abuse him, secretly encouraging it with compulsion spells, trying to mold the boy into the perfect weapon/mouthpiece. And Harry would\'ve broken eventually.... if Rèmy hadn\'t Seen it first.



Harry was a huge part of Dumblefuck\'s plans. As the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry was well-known as the savior who defeated Voldemort at only fifteen months old. To the majority of the sheep in the wizarding world, where he lead, they would follow because the people were just that stupid and gullible. For Aurèle and his family, that was complete and utter rubbish. No matter the size of Harry\'s magical core (and it was freakin huge), there way for him to defeat Voldemort as an infant. Not only because he was a full-grown wizard and the strongest, and darkest, Dark Lord in history. But the man was alive and kicking and in his own damn body, no matter what Dumblefuck proclaimed to the rest of the world. And once Harry learned just how much Dumblefuck lied to him, he would be lost to the old man. Without the younger boy, all his plans for world domination went to shit and the man would have to start from scratch.



Really, Aurèle was ecstatic the fucker believed himself to be some kind of God because that same assurance in his infallibility would bring about his downfall. And that would be a marvelous day.



Aurèle\'s only concern would be Harry and what this would do to him. The younger boy was a fighter, filled with an inner strength most would never possess. Over and over, he was knocked down and pushed around but continued to persevere. But he was only fourteen, no matter how mature he seemed. Harry didn\'t understand that, not only did he deserve love and affection, he was worth so much more than the Boy-Who-Lived and a worthless, friendless freak. He had friends who loved and cherished him for who was, not who he pretended to be. Emotional scars ran deep. It would take more than a few months and some pretty words to demonstrate it to him but eventually Harry would see it for himself.





Only another minute or two had passed by now and Harry was still frozen, gazing at Sèraphin\'s empty chair. His brother was crouched down in front of him, calling his name and shaking him to no avail. Aurèle knew exactly what kind of thoughts were currently running through the younger teen\'s mind and he would put a stop to it.



It was nothing more than one of Dumblefuck\'s schemes.



******



He struggled to pull himself together. He heard his name being called but the sound was faint, almost nonexistent. The more he tried to brush off his self-loathing, the more he seemed to sink deeper into his own despair. Why didn\'t his parents love him? Why didn\'t they care about him? How could they leave--?Harry gasped and blinked when a rush of coolness suddenly hit his face, forcibly jerking him out of his misery.



He looked around to find Aurèle with his wand pointed in his direction and a slim brown raised, no small amount of worry in his gold eyes. Sèraphin was crouched down in front of him, upturned nose wrinkled cutely and his lips pursed into a tight line as he looked up at him with concern. The rest of their friends also gazed at him with various degrees of concern, even Draco who wasn\'t trying to hide it like he normally would. It warmed his heart that they were so clearly worried about him and also highly embarrassing.



"I\'m sorry," he told them, with a small smile. "I was a little shocked I guess."



"A little shocked?" Draco repeated incredulously, voice shriller than usual. "You\'ve been out of it for over five minutes."



"Aw, was Drakey-Poo worried about me?" he cooed. He batted his lashes at the blonde and laughed when an angry red blush covered the boy\'s cheeks.



"Ow!"



Harry pouted at Sèraphin, who had exchanged his concerned frown for a blistering glare, and rubbed the side of his head. "I was only joking, you know."



"It was funny, Harry," Rèmy told him seriously. "You really had us worried."



"Sèraphin called your name loads of times and shook you like a rag doll but you wouldn\'t respond," said George.



"It was almost like you were under the Imperius Curse," Fred told him thoughtfully.



Harry briefly noticed the way Aurèle\'s eyes narrowed at Fred\'s words but was bothered more by the twins. The fact that the brothers weren\'t using their normal twin talk showed the younger wizard just how unnerved the two were by Harry\'s behavior. He truly felt bad for worrying all of his friends and that was the only reason he tried to joke with Draco. Obviously, none of them appreciated his ill-timed humor and that made him feel worse.



"I really am sorry for worrying all of you but I\'m fine now. Sèra just caught me off guard. I mean it\'s not every day you\'re told your dead father wants to talk to you. I\'m fine now. Really," he added at their skeptical looks.



It wasn\'t like he was lying. He really did feel loads better, like he had never been drowning in a sea of his own despair. Harry wondered why for a second but put the thought aside. He would figure it out later.



He patiently withstood seven scrutinizing inspections before everyone relaxed and Sèraphin returned to his chair. As soon as the teen sat down, pearly teeth dug into a soft pink lip as he gave his attention to someone they could neither hear or see. Sèraphin scowled then jerked his head once and faced the redhead closest to Harry.



"You and Aurèle need to change seats."



George paused then shrugged his broad shoulders. He and Rèl stood up and switched chairs, easily getting comfortable again. Now George sat between the two remaining triplets while Rèl sat on Harry\'s left, in the last seat of the semicircle. Sèra offered them all a brief smile.



"Guiding James to this plane will be simple. I\'ll say a little chant, briefly release the hold on my magic, and boom, I\'m done."



Once everyone acknowledged the words in some way, Sèraphin began.

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Sorry, another cliffie! I promise the next chapter will be Harry\'s talk with James and will probably be from James\'s point of view (because I had so fun writing from Aurèle\'s.)



I decided to write from Aurèle\'s POV for many reasons, the main one being he seemed too nice. I was just like the boy almost seems like a damn saint and ain\'t no Slytherin no saint. I wasn\'t expecting the potty mouth but he wanted to curse like a sailor so I said why not? Did you like it or no?



Also it occurred to me this came across as Voldie being the triplets father but nope he isn\'t (wouldn\'t it be cool though?). You\'ll find out how Aurèle knows Voldie is alive in the next chapter but the triplets parents won\'t be revealed until the sequel, sorry.



Until next time, folks.