Chapter 1: The Visit
*I own nothing except Nolan.
Most of this work consists of raw chapters, suggestions and thoughts welcome!
"Words are powerful, Harrison. The most powerful weapon you will ever have. With words you can change lives, and end wars, create masterpieces or spin webs of lies. Words can destroy a man's life or lead them to salvation. Words, Harrison, can do great damage and bring great healing."
The young boy-who looked no more than four, but was in reality six years old-stared into the eyes of his mentor, confused, but hopeful in the way only a child learning a new concept can, before growing suspicious. "But how can something like a word do all that? You're fibbing jus' like my p'fessors!"
"Oh, but that is the power in words, Harrison," the man said calmly. "They are what you make of them! A man's intelligence is judged on his ability to speak, and speak well. Whom would you prefer to teach you the art of our esteemed language: a man who speaks with eloquence and a dignified manner," he said with an air of royalty. "Or one a mit slowah and who migh'n ge' ou' all de syll'bles 'e ough'n, eh?"
Harrison looked at the man solemnly,truly giving it thought. "The first man, but that don't mean the other man wasn't smart too! I don't talk too good, but you always tell me I'm smart, Father MacDara!"
The Priest laughed, and ruffled the already messy locks of his charge. "Right you are, Harrison, and a good lesson to keep in mind! Just because a man speaks better than you does not mean he is smarter, nor necessarily that he is better, only that God has gifted him with eloquence. 'Do not judge a book by its cover' they say, for the tattiest coverings may hide beneath a gleaming wealth of knowledge below."
The young boy looked down at his knees, pressed close to his chest from sitting on the floor next to his companion. He picked at the hole in the borrowed charity jeans he wore, a thoughtful look upon his face.
"How do I learn to speak better, Father?"
"Ah, dear boy! It is no secret. One learns to speak by first learning to read!"
Harrison groaned, burying his face in his knees. He spoke into the knobby joints, but Father MacDara understood him just fine.
"Yes, yes. No one knows how to read when the are but wee sprouts! We must all learn to read first letters, then words, then sentences. What are books but sentences strung together. We will start slow, dear boy and make a learned man of you yet!"
Harry his head on his knees. "Can we at least start tomorrow? I still gots some cleaning to do for Sister Mary Catherine in the 'fessorals."
"Yes, dear boy, we can begin tomorrow. Wouldn't want to get the sisters' buns in a tighter twist, now would we?" He asked with a wink.
Harry tucked his latest book away as Sister Maria called for him. It had taken few years of tutelage under the direction of Father MacDara, but he could read, and well. His vocabulary was that of his peers two and three years ahead, though his math wasn't quite up to the same boastful levels.
He just couldn't understand why he needed to know how to multiply 5 and 9 when he could be reading another passage in his science textbook! Science and Reading were his favorite subjects each day.
Harry dusted his pants off from where he had been sitting on the floor, knowing better than to appear unkempt inside the cathedral. He'd lived with the Father and Sisters since his other family had tired of him, and here he was never disciplined more than once for something. He was a quiet and helpful child, and never ungrateful. He was never quite sure why he lived there, instead of the orphanage like some of his classmates, and he never wanted to bring it up with his minders in case he seem like he didn't want to stay with them. He never wanted to go back to his first family.
He tossed his head and moved the hair from his eyes as he turned the corner, coming to stand in front of the sister and two guests curiously. It wasn't strange for the church to have guests, but there was a man too old to still be alive and kid around his age standing next to the uncomfortable looking Sister Maria-in dresses! He knew Father MacDara sometimes wore long robes for ceremonies, but these people wore nothing like that! The man's were a fluorescent purple with bright blue moons on them and the boy had on a deep grey like the tile floors in the bathrooms.
Harry regained his tongue at the harshly cleared throat. "Yes, Sister?"
"This man is Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of a very prominent school in Scotland."
Harry looked the odd man over as he took over the conversation. "Yes! Yes. I am here, Harry because I would like to invite you to our boarding school for this coming academic year."
Harry gaped, then spluttered. "What? Me? I...I'm just an orphan, Mr. Dum...um, Mister. I can't go off for school!"
"Oh? And why ever not, my boy?"
Harry looked between him and Sister Maria, who looked exasperatedly at the man, hoping she could help him in making this fruity old man understand. When she finally met his gaze she simply lifted an eyebrow.
"Why not? I...well, I'm an orphan for one! I haven't any money!" He said, hoping to make the man see his line of thought, and wondering how the man couldn't understand the station and finances of a child without parents.
"No money, nonsense. Your parents left you plenty of funds in trust. Now, if that has eased your initial worries I was wondering if I might have a few words with you in private, Mr. Potter, concerning the fields of study offered at our school? No worries, Sister Maria, we shall stay within the building."
The woman sniffed and gave a solemn nod, leaving their presence in order to alert Father MacDara of their visitors.
"Now, Mr. Potter, I would like to introduce my companion. This," he gestured to the silent young boy at his side, "is Nolan Odom. He will be your fighter at Hogwarts this coming year. Already paid for by your late parents, of course!"
"Hogwarts? What is a Hogwarts? Sounds like a pig disease," he said with a look of distaste.
The older man laughed. "It does, doesn't it. I'm quite partial to it myself. However, Hogwarts is the shortened name for the school I head. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Harry's eyes widened and he took off running around the weird people, screaming, "Father MacDara! Father! Help! Hel-oof!" He grabbed onto the solid body as he slammed into the middle aged man. He looked up into his keepers eyes. "Father MacDara, you gotta send those loonies away. The man! He's talkin' crazy! Witches and Pigfarts and fighters! Magic! He's gonna try to kidnap me!"
Father MacDara sighed, pulling the young boy to his chest, running his fingers through the dark hair. "Shush, young Harrison. He's not crazy, merely a bad conversationalist. You are not the first magic user to be left at our doorstep, nor will you be the last. What he speaks of, it is true. Magic is real. Your parents were magic users, though that is all I know of them. The letter I told you about, that was left with you on our doorstep? It told us as much, though we always told you it contained only your name and date of birth. We were waiting on a letter to be delivered to you as all the others have."
Harry could hear his heartbeat in his chest, feel the scratchy wool of the vest beneath his cheek, the fingers running through his hair. In that one moment Harry felt as if his entire world was crashing down around him.
Magic.
Magic was real?
A masculine voice sounded behind him. "Ah! Padraigh! So it is you still running the magical orphanage! I had wondered when Sister Maria, was it? Yes, she was most kind in gaining your attention."
"Yes, Albus. I still keep tabs where I can. How ill thought of you, leaving the boy with such people. It was only by chance I came to have him. Found him on the steps one winter morn. You claim to have left him with family, but no family would throw away a child so blessed if they had even a tolerance for magic. You miscalculated, Albus."
Harry moved from the embrace of Father MacDara as he spoke, having never heard such anger in his voice. Especially not on his account. He watched the two adults and the other child quietly, waiting and gathering more information.
Albus simply waved the reprimand off with a laugh, though it never reached his eyes. "A simple mistake, Padraigh. One can never be sure of the reactions of muggles, and as you can imagine they ensuing days and weeks were very busy for us in the Wizarding world. You wouldn't understand the pressure I was under to place young Harry in a home safe from ill intended grasps."
Harry glared at the man, taking a measure of confidence as his hand bunched in the pants leg of Father MacDara. "But who are you? Why did you get to decide who was safe for me? They hurt me and didn't even feed me properly!" He hissed with an old resentment born of living five years in abuse, and only learning it was wrong when he was abandoned to a life of being the only child among children-less adults.
"Mere misunderstanding, I'm sure, my boy. I left you with family. Your Mother's only sister and her family. I may have been hasty in leaving without speaking to them-"
Everyone's eyes widened, save Nolan who was silent, unmoving.
"But I felt it to be in your best interest, my boy. Your parents were newly deceased, and your godfather nowhere to be found...I had to leave you with blood relatives in order to enact various magical protections. I left you with best intentions."
"I...I don't know what you want me to say, Mister," Harry said solemnly.
Albus' eyes gleamed, but with what he could not say. He just knew he didn't quite like it. "There's nothing to say, dear boy. Everything has been arranged for you. I just came to congratulate you on your acceptance and have you meet Nolan, your new partner when you begin learning magic at our esteemed school."
"What if I don't want to go to your Pigwarts School?!" Harry demanded with a glare. This old man didn't get to come in here and bully him into something so logically wrong!
"Not go to Hogwarts? Preposterous. It is the elite school of Magic. You cannot afford to turn this down. You are far too powerful, Mr. Potter. If you do not learn to harness your gift you are likely to harm those you love and those around you. I have left your letter with Padraigh, please send your response as soon as possible. Come along, Nolan."
With that last comment, and thinking it was the best impression to leave for young Harry, Albus left. Nolan waved once with an opening and closing of his fingers, the he was gone. Albus disapparated after grabbing Nolan's shoulder, giving a good show of magic.
Harry wasn't sure if he was staring or glaring, but he knew his eyes never left the spot where the visitors had just stood. He was speechless from both the nerve of the man and his warning.
"He...I...what was that? Hurt you? I COULD HURT YOU AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME?!" He yelled at his caregiver, but stopped when Father MacDara again simply pulled him into a hug. It was the easiest way to calm his little firecracker. Harry just sighed, and wrapped his arms around the solid body holding him. His breathing was ragged as he fought tears before finally whispering, "How can I leave you and the Sisters? But I can't stay, can I? I can't risk hurting you all."
Father MacDara simply sighed and rubbed his large hand up and down Harry's back. The boy was small for his age, no doubt born of the neglect of his early years, but growing into himself little by little. He'd be an appropriate size by summer's end.
"Let's get your chores done, and tomorrow we'll make a special trip for your school supplies." And with that he pulled the letter from his pocket and handed it over.
To: Harrison James Potter
The Fourth Bedroom on the Right
The Oratory
Brompton Rd, London
