Chapter Text
John Reborn I began my lives as Harry Potter, abused Savior of the Wizarding World; it was in this life that I acquired the curse 'Master of Death'. I lived a good full life, married Ginny my longtime girl-friend directly after our war. We had three wonderful children. I died the day after Ginny at the age of 143.
My magical control as Harriet Black-Potter was zilch. I couldn't even hold on too a wand properly, or at least not without my core trying to destroy it. As such I failed every class except Potions and DADA. (Snape was trilled). In my fifth year at Hogwarts I was lured to the Department of Mysteries under the pretense that my only family, my God-Father, was there being tortured. That night I ended up destroying even god forsaken prophesy in the Ministry after Bellatrix killed him. Needless to say she lives no longer. In my seventh year I was abandoned by my school-mates and spent every moment in the Library trying to find the reason my core malfunction. Granger was ignoring my existence as was Weasley. In fact the only person to not find my presence intolerable was my Luna. (And Snape surprisingly. Though that was most likely pity.)
At the end of the year Riddle attacked the school. He had sent his Eaters of Death to kill or capture the student population, but unfortunately for him the moment he stepped on Hogwarts grounds he was vaporized (oops). I died a quick painless (ish) death in a small town in Sweden a year into my lonely hermitage after the Battle of Hogwarts. An Eater of Death sniped me in the back; I turned his heart to stone. Sounds even to me.
Life as Tony Stark was painful, practically abandoned by my parents, brought up by the man who later betrayed me, and I later discovered had my parent arranged to be killed. I was continually fighting for causes no one really believed in my entire life. I married Pepper Potts, never had the time to have kids (wouldn't have known what to do with 'em anyhow). All of the members of my team were either dead or no longer wanting to fight for lost causes by the time I started getting Dementia. Pepper died soon after I forgot her. Rodey, one of my only friends in the universe, pulled my life-support (crying) after my lung collapsed.
I was Sargent Grey Wemp stationed in Afghanistan. I was a military brat, born and raised to serve my country. I was 24 when I met Mr. Stark, the man who's weapons had saved my father and brother, not to mention the genius who's gun design I had cradled. I died, shot in the heart, 27 minutes after I met him, protecting this man.
As Bruce Wayne my story was... shit. Parents shot in front of me. Tried my hand at revenge, got there 30 seconds too late to kill the man. I trained with a man I grew to view as my father, only to betray and be betrayed after learning his true goals. I served as Batman protector of Gotham and eventually the world, until my death as Bruce Wayne, by Joker who was taunting Batman to come out of hiding. (And he wondered why I died smiling)
I was Alice Pleasance. I worked with (my friend), Jervis Tetch, in Nano-Neuro-Technology until he was driven insane. I died at 23 years old, assaulted and killed by the man known as the Mad-Hatter.
John Watson was an average and unfortunately dull creature for the majority of my life. My father was an alcoholic who beat both me and my sister Harry. We each had different coping methods, she turned to drink and I went away to the military. 'Captain' Watson I was. I was shot while securing a man's leg that had been blown off. Sent home, unable to serve, I met Sherlock Holmes. He was an oddball who solved violent crimes for fun. He jumped off a roof after the world accused him of being a fake. Sherlock was my only friend. I killed myself on his grave. All these lives were separate, unconnected without remembering each-other.
I am Clary Watson, I remember every birth, every death, and every moment leading up to them. I am all of them, but none are me.
JnRbrn
Bruce-Batman bolded
Tony- IronMan Italics
Grey-Sarge Italics and Underlined
Alice- AP Wonderland
Harry- HP Potter
Harriet- Magic Underlined
Now, reasoning on why Clary is the way she is. All the lives shes lived are all in her head so when she was born all the personalities put all their knowledge into her, creating Clary. She is not just all the lives play thing however, she has her own soul, if you will, her own mind. So she'll way mature for any age, she was 143. :) 'Course she's also got Stark in her head so maybe it'll even out.
I was born screaming. Memory of lives I had not placed in the correct spots ground against each other. Pain circumvented every crevasse of my small mind. Pain laced every cry from my infant lips. Suddenly everything clicked, my tears stopped and only watery tracks remained.
Gruff hands lifted me from the warm cocoon of blankets. John's memories of these hands and pain are crushed by the mantra, "Do not show your enemy your fear."
A small voice calls for attention, "Daddy, I wanna see her!"
"Harriet, not now!"
I am blind to the world cannot see to confirm in who's hands I am cradled in.
"What are you naming her, Mr. Watson?" asked a small fluttery female voice.
A deeps bass answers, "Clary Hamish Watson. Is't what Janey would 'av wanted." His voice wavered wildly.
So that's why he hated John. We killed mother.
The gruff man laid me back in the cradle of warm and left. The tension in the air disappeared along with his presence.
"You're a strange one you are." The nurse tells me.
Gruff-Hands bought me to a familiar place after 28 days of confirmation that my optic nerves have some sort of block in them. The doctors had to disinfect my eyes for an unknown bacterial infection. At least that's what Gruff-Hands and the doctors are blaming for my 'freakish' eyes (Gruff-Hands words not mine)
I was for all purposes blind. Harry, from the first time she saw me whispered how beautiful they were, my eyes. In the 12 days that I've been here, she has told me how they change. They've gone from the Watson blue to Grey's ironic grey then to Bruce's black. Gruff-Hands called them 'Devil Eyes' Harry ruined Bruce's man moment by saying they were pretty. (He was sulking for days)
Harry tells me today that my eyes have turned a "yummy brown" color (Tony). "Like chocolate!" she exclaims while tickling my sides. I just need the Potters' killer green and I'll have all the pretty colors.
3 months
Gruff-Hands doesn't seem to like me anymore than he liked John. He yells profanities that even Tony is interested (horrified) to learn. Harry hovers over me afterward; she always cries after he leaves.
6 Months
At six months old I can finally relate to Dare-Devil of all people.
Poor Guy
He always said he could "'See' the Sounds"
And I thought he was 'Loki'
AP Not funny!
Sorry blondie
Hey!
I can see peoples souls.
Aura, It's called an aura.
What he said; sounds less creepy!
It's like magical cores, only on Muggles.
Harry's is a nice forestey green with gold sparks when she laughs and blue when she cries. Gruff-Hands has a strange mucusey yellow orange. He occasionally has patches of a dark blue when he is somewhat less drunk.
Harry said my eyes have been green all month.
7 Months
I'm going to kill him.
Harry's aura has more splotches of red than I've even seen on her before. The majority are placed around her head area, her torso and her back like she curled into a ball while being kicked. Nothing has a internal bleeding red through just varying shades of the lighter red.
So Gruff-Hands wasn't as drunk as he could have been.
Small tears land on me from what I know are sad sky blue eyes. The red circling, what I assume is an eye, grows larger and a slightly darker shade of red. Harry rocks me back and forth slowly humming a lullaby she remembers from her Mum.
I don't know it but my eyes swirls into a kaleidoscope of angry colors as I think of all the different ways to kill James Watson.
"Daddy apologized this time; said he didn't mean to. He's going to get ice-cream right now!"
If my mouth would form comprehensible words I would tell her that her father is not getting ice-cream. That he was probably going to get more clobbered to forget what he'd done to Harry. I wasn't forgetting, not ever.
Harry slides a rubber teat between my lips and I suck at it greedily, father forgot to feed me today.
12 Months
I can toddle around the house with Harry leading me around obstacles. She was trying to convince Gruff-Hands to get me a seeing eye dog, but we both know it probably won't happen as Harry learned they were very expensive.
If I was to ever get a dog I could force my magic to 'see' through the dog. But as Brucey had training for the whole 'fight blindfolded' he was showing me how to survive. Tony was busy trying to overpass the nerve with a possible replacement eye.
Contacts, I got an Idea for CONTACTS!
4 years
I am four years of age before I can convince a Viviparous Lizard to stay on my shoulder. Surprisingly Lizard dialect is only slightly differing from Parseltongue. I only scare off a few before they realize I'm not going to eat them. The male I've acquired is a youngling recently big enough to be viewed as not-eggling. He says as long as he can have a ride I can use his eyes. I slowly push my magic toward the small bit of light orange on my shoulder.
The world is bright and colorful not quite as bright as my memories but still, I can see.
Kid, breath.
Find the computer
*Go on my head pleassssse* I hiss to my friend. I want to be able to turn my head and see. The tiny claws find purchase in the frizz of my ponytail. The colors surrounding me are vibrant blues and greens spread across the walls of Harry and I's room. The red of my 'cute' sweater looks more like dried blood.
AP I think its darling.
Like you've bathed in the blood of your enemies.
My nose crinkles. That is gross!
Laptop
I can hear the man's wet wheezing in the room with squishy seats. The thin (If you aren't a computer genius) gray box that held within its depths, connections. Both the simplicities of the early internet and the very hackable British government opens before my poor-light-abused-lizard-eyes. I know the only reason he, Gruff-Hands, left the (work) laptop within the grasps of a 4 year old is that he is stoned as all hell, but it's the little things in a life.
I looked for the Holmes'es first (He was my only friend) but they lived outside London.
Another time.
Moriarty then.
Surprisingly something nearby shows on the poorly graphicted screen.
Ooh look there's a park nearby.
We can have the playdate there!
Shh!
Yes sir.
I shut down what should be an untraceable hack into the government's system.
Good job, kiddo!
'I would hope so. I was you; I would take horrible offense if it wasn't good!'
Some of my lives have left my head. Harry went onto the greener pastures of the afterlife to see his family. Alice went to wait, probably in Hell, for Jervis so she can kill him again. Bruce is considering leaving to see Rachael, Alfred, and his parents but decided to wait until I know what I'm doing. Grey and Harriet don't have anyone they want to go back to, and Huffelpuffs are fiercely loyal besides.
John argues that James, Lily, and Sirius will miss her but we all argued that they have waited all this time, a little longer won't hurt them (they're dead). John merely wants to live without having to kill ourselves again. Tony's only argument was that Pepper was used to waiting for him, he'll go when he's bored.
I meticulously clear the computer of any sign I've been there, as pure Bruce's instructions. I flee the room, leaving my drunkard of a caretaker in a puddle of his drool and vomit. (His nose was out. He won't die now... probably)
"Harry!" I whisper shout as I run silently along memorized paths (Batman skills, I'm also really good with capes) through the house, just to be sure that she won't crash my party. She should be at a friend's house, some girl she met at school, and is supposed to be back at seven but its always a good idea to check.
I scrawl a quick note as badly as I would do blind. It reads,
Harry m gon tu the pak arond the conr.
-Clary
I stick it as far up the door to our room as I can so she'll find it before leaving the building.
JnRbrn