Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

On the doorstep of Privet Drive, a basket is settled onto the ground. The basket held a very precious thing. Indeed, an infant quite loved, before his parents were felled by evil. And beloved still, by a world of humans with power at their fingertips and swirling in their chests. 

In a few hours time, humans all around the world will cheer at the revelation that the orphan boy has stopped a great evil. With the war’s end, they will call him The Boy Who Lived. 

But one such human will see that the true war is not over, not yet. For the Dark Lord will return. This old human had made plans however. Plans that involved the so called Boy Who Lived.

These plans will soon be derailed, as two creatures have noticed the basket on the doorstep and opted to take a closer look.

“Oh, poor thing.” One of the creatures said. “Left about in the cold like this. Abandoned. Forsaken—”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Sister Helen.” The other interrupted. “Humans drop off their young like this all the time.”

“But Rosetta!” Cried Helen. “It’s just been left out in the open! Any wolf or vampire can claim it right now. Another human could just snatch it up even!” 

“Or us.”

“I! Oh. Yes. Or us.” Helen turned back to the child in the basket.

“Look, Sister.” Rosetta pointed to a piece of paper stuck beside the sleeping human. Helen picked the letter up and opened it.

“Oh dear.”

“Let me see.” Rosetta looked over the shoulder of her sister. Written on the very top of the letter were the words, “This is Harry James Potter. He—” Rosetta didn’t bother to read the rest. “Ah! Foolish humans! Leaving a young unattended with their name for all to see!”

Helen looked down at the baby again. He slept soundly. There was a noticeable jagged pink wound on his forehead that would certainly scar. Around it, a darkness lingered, almost as strong as the aura of fey of the Winter Court. The baby however, sung to Helen in the way only the Summer Aligned did.

“We must take him.” Helen decided.

“Of course we’re taking him, dear sister.” Rosetta nodded. “The humans have practically left him for us. Go on.”

Helen reached over and picked up the forsaken human child. Rosetta raised her arms over the now empty basket and Called out.

“Awaken and fill this void. Appear and take your place. Hosta.” 

Another baby, an exact replica of the one Helen had Taken, appeared in the basket. His green eyes watched his Sisters redo the blanket over him and return the note by his hand.

“ Hosta. The name you have claimed is Harry James Potter. Wreck havoc, and return home when you are of age.” Rosetta said.

The changeling once named Hosta nodded.

“Goodbye, little brother.” Helen nodded. It was always a bittersweet thing, the trade. She wished H—the changeling could be raised alongside their new brother, but the Fates had dictated that swapping was fairer than simply taking.

Helen looked down at her new Brother. Harry James Potter. She could practically feel the winds changing, Destiny’s strings snapping off the longer she held him.

Helen smiled. If fey had a purpose in the universe, it would be to disrupt humankind as much as possible. With this, Helen was sure she was fulfilling that purpose. And she delighted in that thought.

What sort of chaos will this cause now? She wondered.

“Ready?” Rosetta asked.

“Ready.” Helen replied.

The two Summer fey and one very important baby vanished, leaving the changeling in the basket to close his eyes and sleep.

Chapter Text

Humans were so silly.

Well, James was sure that was more so in the You-Kay than anything else. The British humans were more susceptible to fey, what with the way they announced their full names every chance they got. Of course, he couldn’t Claim a human any time one said a name, only if he asked directly. But they were just so open, James stopped automatically collecting them at some point.

“May I have your name?” Delilah Wormwood, his neighbor.

“I forget your name. Won’t you give it to me?” Miss Anna Smith, his primary teacher.

“Call me James. May I have your name?” John Whitlock, his classmate.

It simply got boring, getting exactly what he wanted right away. 

The humans supposed to be his aunt and uncle also seemed to believe he was doing “something diabolical,” so they punished him with more chores and less meals every time they caught him Claiming. He rolled his eyes at the fact that they thought those were adequate punishments. Tending to the garden made it easier for him to fill up on sunlight. He didn’t have to eat like a human after all.

And the less said about the time he was forced to cook, the better. The Dursleys still don’t let him near the kitchen.

Despite being forced to sleep in a cupboard and wear hand me downs from a spoiled brat, it wasn’t that bad being Harry James Potter. For him at least. A human might have had some sort of breakdown, so he’s constantly grateful he’d taken his brother’s place. Being fey, he could easily mend the holes of his clothes and resize them. He didn’t have to beg for scraps, for he ate sunrays. And he was a proper charmer with the neighbors, once he actually managed to make conversation.

It may have been lonely—the schoolchildren could sense there was something… off about him—but he was sure it wouldn’t last. Even if it did, James wouldn’t be around once he turned sixteen. He would return to the Summer Court, reclaim his true name, finally meet his brother, and they would laugh at how horrible his “relatives” were while watching them burn.

Fey were very good at lying in wait.

——

The day came where Harry James Potter would be introduced to the Wizarding World.

James snickered softly. “Hogwarts?”

He had noticed a letter addressed to him in the mail pile and swiped it easily, reading it in the garden. He had had a good hunch that the original Harry was one of the wizarding types based on how his aunt and uncle reacted to even a hint of his fey nature, but he had not thought on the fact that young wixen were required to go to boarding school.

James hummed. “Shall I?” He murmured to himself. As much as he disliked the Dursleys, it would be simpler living as a…muggle, than a wizard. Less chance of being discovered.

All wixen were required to be let into the fold of the superior. Not just for their sake, but for the sake of the statue of secrecy business they had. It was honestly amusing that they thought they could control whether or not the humans with low magic knew of the hidden world. Fey were constantly letting it slip. Unicorns and vampires and merfolk. They all had their own ways untethered from the human’s society. The poor things were simply too shortsighted to notice.

James technically had no obligation to join the Wizarding World. Sure he was supposed to be a wizard, and had taken the place of Harry James Potter, but really he could go as he pleased. Run from Privet Drive and become a nomad, a wild fey, until he was allowed back home.

That wouldn’t make him a good changeling though. The fun of it was in playing the role, living the life of a stranger. Collecting as many Names and causing as much chaos as possible before disappearing without a trace. Every good fey had stories of their time as a changeling—where their inhuman nature drove their human family insane, where they tamed the local crows, and fought rogue werewolves. One of James’ cousins even Claimed a whole town in their youth.

It isn’t often that fey Snatch wixen spawn. James’ case was a novelty, he was sure of that. He needed to make sure his Stories were satisfactory just for that. 

James sighed and began thinking on the best way to steal the materials needed to write back.

——

To Whomever It May Concern,

Firstly, I would like to accept your offer to be enrolled into the school known as Hogwarts, however silly I find the name. I had indeed already inferred that something was different about me from how my aunt treated some unfortunate accidents in my youth, but it is nevertheless pleasant to know the truth.

If it wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience, I would like it if I was directed to the nearest way to obtain the school supplies I need, if any. I am also unfortunately not in a position to be paying for anything major, so would it be possible to enroll on scholarship? Or has my tuition already been taken care of? I do not personally know any witch or wizard, as I was raised by my aunt and uncle, so I have to presume it was covered by my deceased parents. I faithfully await your correspondence.

Sincerely,

Your future student

——

They sent a half giant to the house. Petunia wasn’t happy.

Of course the Dursleys knew to bite their tongues by now, even when James expressed his interest in a magic school he rightfully should’ve known nothing about. The changeling unfortunately couldn’t fib about knowing much of Harry’s parents, but Rubeus Hagrid, Groundskeeper of Hogwarts, was a trickling well of puzzle pieces James fit together.

Lily and James Potter were famous. Harry James Potter was famous. He had a Title: The Boy Who Lived. To have replaced a famous wixen… James’ Story would be magnificent!

The cons of this of course being that everyone knew his Changeling Name; He’d have to work up a reputation as simply James or he’d go mad at Hogwarts.

It didn’t take much for the Dursleys to let him run off with Hagrid. When it came down to it they were oak and not willow, easily breakable when the strong winds blew in. 

Hagrid brought James over to a pub of sorts. The Leaky Cauldron. Nosy humans gaped and awed at his presence and for once, James resisted the urge to shrink under attention.

They throw a vulnerable human child to the metaphorical wolves. I dread to think of the strife this would put my brother to, if he were here.

The changeling still smiled and shook hands. Fey were supposed to preen under the spotlight. And well, he did get a bunch of names.

Almost ten minutes later, James and Hagrid managed to escape and made their way to Gringotts, the wixen bank run by goblins.

The goblins eyed James warily. No doubt they could tell what he truly was, a lone changeling with no grown fey nearby. Goblins didn’t really care about imposters though, unless it involved fraud with their precious treasures.

In any case, the hordes knew not to mess with the courts’ business. Wixen could stand to learn their sort of respect.

James watched as Hagrid used a golden key to retrieve money from Harry’s vault and frowned. Fey usually had no need for money and Harry likely wouldn’t either, but it was still Harry’s. Moreover, he didn’t like that seemingly anyone could access Harry’s things with this key and possibly others. 

So, when Hagrid’s back was turned, James swiftly slipped the key from the giant’s open pocket and up his own sleeve. Easily, much too easily. What other sorts of things could jeopardize Harry’s, or rather, James’ way of life?

The young fey vowed to find out as much as he could concerning his new path.

After a nauseating two way cart ride, James had more than enough coin for his listed supplies and any additional things he needed. And if he didn’t, well, he could always transfigure a few leaves and sticks.

Guilt tugged at James’ heart momentarily but he shook it off. He was Harry James Potter at the moment, so of course he had a right to the coin in the vault with that very name. But it still felt an awful lot like taking what belonged to his little brother.

Of course, Fey Touched rarely needed to do things the tedious way so Harry probably wouldn’t even notice this dent in savings.

Hagrid needed to do…something, and so left James to shop on his own for a bit. Honestly, James tuned him out when he started going on about James taking too much from his vault, being responsible with money, all that. Really, like anyone had a say in what he could do. Orders were a right of his queen, ruler of the Summer Court, Her Radiant Majesty, Esteemed Sol, Helianthus.

Free of his “keeper,” James’ first stop was Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions. The titular tailor was pleased to meet The Boy Who Lived, as was every wixen in Diagon Alley. She was a bit baffled to immediately get a tall order of much more than school robes but James quickly brushed away her inquiries with a dazzling smile.

“What would people say if I walked around in muggle rags? If nothing else, I should think my parents would want me to look as respectable as possible. Don’t you agree, Madam?”

Madam Malkin nodded. “Quite right. No good for a young lad like yourself to be looking unsightly.”

“Yes, you’re right. So, a full wardrobe…”

In the end, James ordered his school robes plus some casual robes, a formal robe, and, just for fun, a dragonhide jacket. Ethically sourced, although it wouldn’t have bothered him if it wasn’t; the dragon had been Winter Aligned.

Book shopping was next and James rushed to get his list over and done with before he indulged himself in browsing the shelves. He found some good looking ones, some that seemed important enough to be on the list even, but what did he know? Perhaps An Intro to Potion Making was a staple in every wixen household and Hogwarts just assumed every student had the knowledge.

Although… A Muggleborn’s Entry to Magic and the Fantastical was probably off the list due to bias against the more ignorant humans.

The Apothecary was a treasure trove and James became a borderline hoarder before Hagrid came along and had to practically drag him out. James had never before loathed having a keeper more. Any teachers that tried to corral him on field trips had been promptly shaken off and accepted his excuses when he returned.

The half giant then brought up a major conundrum in the form of an ethereal snowy owl.

James blinked at the giant. “An owl. For… me. Harry.”

“Yup! Ain’t she pretty? She’s your birthday gift! Every wizard needs an owl.”

“Oh! Uh, how lovely.” James repressed a cringe. Another gift. A gift he couldn’t reject because it was a gift for Harry but James was Harry and also an unawakened changeling; someone like him couldn’t handle any big debts, so he avoided them entirely. 

The squashed birthday cake of the earlier morning could have been considered a mere offering, and in any case James had been full from “breakfast” (read: sunlight and stolen honey) so he could easily put it in the fridge and deal with it at a later time, away from Hagrid’s gaze.

“She is a splendid gift, Sir Hagrid.” James said demurely. “I assure you she will be loved dearly.” Just not by me.

They stop for ice cream after that, James getting a chocolate cone with two scoops of cinnamon apple and vanilla ice cream drizzled in caramel syrup. He ate it quickly and asked where the nearest loo was before excusing himself, saying that Hagrid could stay and savor his own cone.

Instead of going to a nearby pub for the loo, James glamoured himself slightly, masking his notable scar and reverting his eyes back to their softer lush green rather than the emerald ones he’d taken on, before hastily making his way to the Menagerie. He would not let some bumbling wizard tell him what familiar he would put to task.

Frogs, cats, and a whole lot of owls greeted James’ eyes the moment he entered the shop. In the corner, he could see a cage full of canaries. Unfortunately, none seemed to have the proper amount of Summer to evolve into phoenix. With how rare phoenixes were in wixen captivity, James was sure humans didn’t even know they manifested from canaries that got enough sun.

James turned away, his focus shifting to the much more common messengers of the Otherside: the corvids. They were less unruly, and so were allowed to be free of the cages, as was their right. One particular crow amongst the sea of ravens had already taken notice of the young fey. 

Clever, so clever. James needed a trustworthy ally by his side once he sent off the snowy owl to be Harry’s messenger. The crow just needed a name. Something fitting of the sun seekers, fortunate enough to be aid to one who would weave such a splendid Story.

James held out his arm and Called to it.

“Clover.”  

The bird crowed in response and flew to land on James’ awaiting arm.

“Master.”

“Ah, how nice. Good to see my corvids getting out. Just remember, they can’t carry as much as an owl can.” The shopkeeper said. “No more than three letters, lad.”

James agreed and handed over the appropriate amount of coin before leaving. He then glamored his new messenger invisible and ordered him to be still and silent before returning to the ice cream parlor, Hagrid none the wiser of his actual familiar.

Their next stop was Ollivander’s. It was a wand shop, for wixen of course. Only wixen were allowed the privilege to carry a wand. They needed to compensate for their weakness somehow.

James looked around the shop. There were plenty of wands about, and the changeling wondered which one would have been his brother’s, had he not been Taken.

James turned away. It didn’t matter now. Harry wouldn’t even need a wand, Influenced as he was now. Those of the Summer Court had probably taught him the subtleties of glamor and raw magic by now. Wixen magic would be a downgrade.

The wandmaker introduced himself as Ollivander and instantly began giving James wand after wand. Fey interacted with wands differently than wixen. That is to say, not at all. They were absolutely useless since fey magic worked from interacting with the world rather than something as limited as a magical core. However, James could still trick a wand into resonating with his power. 

He didn’t do it immediately though. None of the wands just didn’t speak to him.

That was until Ollivander held up a wand that radiated Summer. “Try this one, lad. Whitethorn wood, with a unicorn hair core.”

The moment James heard the name of the pure creature and the wood of the trees of the Otherside, he summoned his full power to the surface. Once in his hand, the wand reacted to him and settled, relenting to the power of Summer. It was his.

“Huh.” Ollivander muttered. “I was sure… Ah, never mind me. Congrats, lad.”

James nodded, observing the stick. If nothing else, it would be a nice reminder of home.