Disclaimer: Not mine.

Harry Potter and the Ties of Blood

Chapter Four: Shopping

When Harry opened his bedroom door, he found Charles there raising a hand to knock. "Perfect timing," Charles announced brightly. "How do you like your room?"

"It's … amazing," Harry said, although the word inadequately conveyed his feelings. Charles smiled though, seeming to know exactly what Harry meant.

"I was thinking that perhaps you would appreciate a shopping trip later this afternoon?" Charles offered.

"That sounds like a brilliant idea to me," Harry said. "Dudley's things were never nice, but they make me feel really out of place here."

Charles frowned. "I find myself disliking the Dursley's more and more. You should never feel out of place in your own home," he said. "We shall remedy the situation immediately, rather than waiting for the later afternoon, I think. We shall have lunch and then leave for a shopping expedition."

Charles escorted Harry to the same room they'd eaten in the day before, where a meal was already waiting for them. They ate fairly quietly, just enjoying each other's company.

"Charles?" Harry asked part way through the meal.

"Yes Harry?"

"What relation are you to me exactly?"

Charles frowned, eating another mouthful of food while he thought it over. "Exactly, I am your sixteenth times great-grandfather," he said eventually. "I would suggest referring to me either as your Uncle or your cousin in company, though."

Harry nodded. 'Grandfather' let alone 'great grandfather' seemed extremely inappropriate considering that Charles looked to be no older than thirty. When the meal was done, shortly after, they went downstairs and out through the front doors.

As they walked down the stairs an impressive looking black car appeared around the side of the mansion and pulled up in front of them. It's windows were blackened so as not to let too much sunlight through, and Harry noticed that Charles was already looking uncomfortably after just a few seconds in the afternoon sun.

The drivers door opened and a middle aged man with graying brown hair stepped out. He was dressed in an expensive looking suit, and bowed carefully to both Charles and Harry, which made Harry feel slightly uncomfortable, though Charles seemed to take no notice of it.

"Harry, this is Wilfred, chauffeur and grounds keeper, Wilfred, this is my grandson, Harry," Charles introduced them

"Pleased to meet you Sir," Wilfred nodded politely. His accent held traces of London in it, Harry thought. Wilfred, like Lucy, didn't seem surprised to see Harry, although Harry figured that the grounds keeper and chauffeur would have been told all about him by Lucy not long after his arrival.

"Likewise," Harry said, somehow thinking that it would be inappropriate to shake this fellow's hand, since he was supposed to be a family servant of some sort; certainly Wilfred didn't offer to shake. The chauffeur opened the back door and Charles climbed in, before leading Harry around to the other side of the vehicle and letting him in as well, then going around to the front again and climbing into the driver's seat, and they were off, heading for the centre of Glasgow.

Both Charles and Wilfred evidently knew the city very well, because they went straight to a large shopping complex in the centre of town, but rather than parking there, drove around the block to park in the street adjacent. "All of my clothes are tailor made–it's the only way to dress," Charles explained calmly to Harry as Wilfred opened the doors for them. "I see no reason not to do the same for you, although of course we shall purchase some more casual clothes for you as well."

He led Harry straight into a small shop set a little back from the street front that most people seemed to overlook a little. "Mr. Elsen doesn't particularly like tending to the needs of the general populace," Charles informed Harry as they stepped into the shop, Wilfred walking a little behind them. "So most people don't tend to notice it. Regular customers bring those they believe will suit him, and he usually deigns to serve them. He serves both wizards and Muggles, although he is a wizard himself. He prefers to do things the Muggle way whenever possible, however, being Muggle born himself."

Harry nodded slightly, accepting the explanation. The shop was rather dark and more than a little unwelcoming. He unconsciously moved a little closer to Charles, for the support of knowing that there was someone there with him. A moment later an older man, dressed in an old-style suit, stepped out of the darkness and smiled faintly in greeting.

"Charles Potter, a pleasure to see you again Sir," the man said. His back was very straight and he looked every bit as imposing as Professor McGonagall did. His hair was completely grey and neatly cut but he walked with all the energy of a far younger man.

"John Elsen, likewise," Charles nodded. "I've brought my young ward, Harry, here for a new wardrobe. He lost most of his not long before he came under my care."

Mr. Elsen looked at Harry intently for a moment, "I suppose we will soon be reading reports of young Master Potter's disappearance then, Charles," he remarked, and smiled when he saw Harry's fearful look, and the way Harry's hand inched towards his wand, and smiled. "Rest assured, your secret is safe with me. You can trust on John Elsen's discretion!"

Charles smiled, "You can trust him," he reassured Harry.

"It will be an honour to provide such a renowned young gentleman with a new wardrobe," Mr. Elsen said, a ghost of a smile playing at his lips.

Out in the back, the shop was much more inviting, although the lights were harsh after the dim front. They had to be, Harry supposed, so Mr. Elsen could see properly to sew. "What sort of clothes will Master Harry be wanting?" Mr. Elsen asked Charles, rather than Harry.

"The same as me," Charles replied, and Harry smiled slightly. It would be great to have new clothes, and since Harry and Charles looked so alike, it was, he thought, fair to assume that he would look as good as Charles did when wearing the same sorts of clothes. "Perhaps also some more casual clothes, something more suitable for a teenager to wear."

"He will appreciate casual clothes more than you, I believe," Mr. Elsen agreed. "The young do like their exotic new styles. But he will look good in the same style as you. Would you prefer Muggle or Wizard styles of dress, Master Potter?" this was addressed to Harry.

"Umm … both, I think," Harry replied. Mr. Elsen nodded absently, seeming as if he had expected this response.

Harry found himself hustled up onto a low stool and measured out carefully, all the results being written down. "So I can easily make new clothes as you require them," Mr. Elsen said to Harry, who nodded slightly. Getting clothes, Harry discovered, was a long and rather boring process. Mr. Elsen measured him, then got out ready cut fabric that was around Harry's size, and got out pins, pinning everything to fit. "I always keep some fabric cut close to Charles's size in his usual favourite styles," the tailor continued, "Which means I will have a pair of clothes ready for you fairly quickly."

Harry was fairly glad to get out of the shop once Mr Elsen had finished pinning the fabric; it was a process that took several hours all told, but when they were done Harry was assured that his clothes would be ready by the next afternoon.

"In the efforts of getting you out of those revolting clothes as soon as possible, I suggest we go to the Mall and do some shopping there also," Charles announced as they stepped on to the street, leading the way forward. Harry walked beside him, while Wilfred walked several paces behind.

Wilfred's presence was making Harry slightly uncomfortable; he had never had people following him around like this before, and it was certainly not a general practice any more. Charles, and Wilfred himself, didn't seem to find it at all strange though.

In the Mall, Charles led Harry through an exhaustive collection of shops full of Muggle clothing. Here they bought jeans, trousers, t-shirts, shirts, jumpers, socks, underwear, two jackets, several pairs of shoes and two new belts. By the time Charles pronounced himself satisfied with Harry's Muggle wardrobe, the shops were about to close and Wilfred was having some trouble keeping hold of all of their purchases.

All day Charles had paid for everything and refused to allow Harry to even think of paying him back, reminding his charge that as they were both Potter's, their wealth was shared regardless. Harry still felt a little odd at having someone else pay, but he realized very quickly that he would simply have to accept it.

"We will have to make an excursion to the Magical area of Glasgow soon," Charles announced as they stepped into the car. Wilfred was loading all of their purchases into the boot. "John Elsen will make you a number of dress robes, but for buying in bulk for your stay in Hogwarts, it would be more appropriate to go elsewhere."

Harry just nodded slightly. He was exhausted from all the shopping they had done today, and very glad to be on the way back home again. Home, he repeated the word in his mind with a sense of wonder: for the first time ever he had a real home.

As they were driving back to the manor, something else occurred to Harry. "I'll be able to fly at your place!" he exclaimed suddenly, smiling widely. He was so used to being simply unable to fly that it taken him awhile to even think of it.

"Indeed you will," Charles nodded, smiling in return. "I had heard how much you enjoyed flying – youngest Seeker in over a hundred years! A love of flying is something else that has been written into the Potter genes, almost all of us have been on our House Quidditch teams at Hogwarts, and the few who weren't still flew recreationally."

When they got home, Harry went back to his room. When he arrived there he found that all of his clothes had been brought up already from the car, and that someone – presumably the House Elves – had put them all away for him.

Harry sighed; it was going to take awhile to get used to having people do all of his work for him. He looked through all of his new things and eventually picked out a pair of nice trousers and a fitted long-sleeved black shirt. Clothes chosen, he went to re-acquaint himself with the bathroom, feeling much better at being able to put on real clothes when he was done. He took great pleasure in throwing Dudley's old clothes in the bin on the way out. He would never have to wear second-hand too-big clothes again!

When he was done, Harry went into his room and looked around vaguely, wondering what to do now. His desk, he noticed, had also been set up by the servants: his homework was sitting in a neat pile on top, along with his quills and ink. For a moment, he considered making a start on it, but decided that he wasn't in the mood. He wanted to see more of his new home!

Mindful of Charles' warning to summon a servant to prevent himself from getting lost, Harry looked around to see what might be used to call said servant. He found a bell sitting on his desk, and rang it uncertainly. Immediately, there was a pop and a House Elf appeared beside him.

It –she, he realized quickly- bowed deeply to him as soon as she appeared. "Holly is being here Mast Harry Potter sir," she squeaked. "How is Holly being able to help Master Harry Potter today sir?"

"Um, could you just call me Harry?" He asked, remembering from previous House Elf experiences that this was unlikely.

Just as he thought, the elf looked positively scandalized, "That is not being proper behaviour for a house elf Master Harry Potter sir!" she squeaked indignantly at him.

"Is there any possible way to shorten the title without being improper?" Harry asked, resisting the urge to bang his head on the desk. His experiences with Dobby made him well aware that compromising with house-elves was both difficult and time consuming.

The elf actually thought about it for a long moment, "Holly is thinking that calling you Master Harry or Master Potter is not being too un-proper," she said eventually. "Which would you be preferring?"

"Master Harry," Harry said decisively, and the elf nodded.

"Master Harry it is then, Master Harry sir," she said, bowing again. Harry restrained the instinct to roll his eyes with some difficulty. "Is Master Harry needing anything else from Holly? Food, maybe?" she looked hopeful.

"No thank you Holly, I'm not hungry just yet," Harry replied, "I was hoping that you could show me around? Maybe take me to Charles?"

"Holly is afraid she cannot take Master Harry to Master Charles," Holly said sadly, "Master Charles is being with Very Important Guests as is not to be bothered by any of the servants until he is done."

"Oh right, he said that earlier," Harry remembered. "Can you take me somewhere else then?"

"Master Charles is telling Holly that she should take Master Harry to the library if he is not having anything else to do," Holly offered, after thinking for a little while again.

"OK," Harry said, not really minding where he went. The library would be as good a place as any to start exploring from, he supposed.

"If Master Harry would come with me," Holly said, and backed out of the room. Harry followed, and was led down a dizzying selection of corridors. As he walked, he did his best to note anything interesting or unusual so that he could find his way back here if he wanted to. He wanted to be able to find his own way around as soon as possible. Unfortunately most of the mansion was both interesting and unusual, and he stopped Holly several times to look at different portraits, tapestries and ornaments.

Eventually, they reached a door and Holly came to a stop. "There is being three different ways into the library Master Harry Sir," she told him. "One is for guests, it is being very large and impressive. The other two is being much smaller, on each side of the library, and is for the family only. Holly is taking Master Harry to one of these, sir."

"That's fine Holly," Harry reassured her.

"Does Master Harry want Holly to come in with him or is he prefering to poke around on his own?"

"I should be fine on my own thank you Holly," Harry said politely.

Holly nodded, "Holly is leaving Master Harry now then," she said, "If Master Harry needs anything, he can either say Holly's name and she will come, or he is being able to ring a bell and one of the others will come to help him!" she vanished with a crack and Harry was on his own.

Harry was not expecting what he found on the other side of the door. The room was gigantic, with a vaulted ceiling and it was lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves, all of which had ladders to reach the upper limits of. All the surfaces Harry could see where dark wood paneling and the carpet was the same plush red as the entrance hall.

He noticed that, much like the rest of the house, this room was lit with electric lights, hanging between the shelves and positioned so as to give the room a light, airy feel. In various places around the room, Harry could see tables and desks with chairs, as well as comfortable looking arm chairs that seemed to invite anyone in the room to pick up a book and settle down to read for awhile.

Harry was surprised at welcoming this library seemed – very different from Madam Pince's domain at Hogwarts. It wasn't nearly as stuffy, nor did he get the slightly threatening feeling that he always had at Hogwarts, as though Madam Pince was already swooping down on him for breathing on one of her precious books.

Each shelf was carefully marked, both with the general subject of the books within it, and also by author, in alphabetical order. Not only were there wizard books, on everything from Transfiguration, Charms and Potions to obscure histories, traveler accounts and much more, there were also Muggle books: histories, general school subjects, and advanced studies on just about everything Harry had ever seen and novels from all sorts of genres.

In short, Harry had never seen anything like it. It was the largest collection of books he had ever seen; even the magical section was almost twice as large as the Hogwarts library, which didn't have any Muggle books at all. He even found books both on and in foreign languages.

He lost track of the time as he wandered through the shelves, occasionally climbing a ladder out of curiosity, but mostly staying on the ground level. He occasionally picked up a book and flipped through it absent-mindedly before returning it the shelf. He could only imagine what Hermione would think if she could see this room; she would probably never leave.

For awhile he couldn't think where to actually start, until he noticed the section dedicated to the Dark Arts and Defence Against the Dark Arts. Walking through those shelves he found a lot of books he recognized from his research for DA last year, but mostly they were completely new to him.

Without much clue what was in each volume, he started picking those randomly off the shelves and looking through them. Most were much more advanced than anything Hogwarts had to offer, and, with the Prophecy very much in the for-front of his mind, Harry resolved to read as many of them as possible before he went back to Hogwarts in September.

Before he had really realized it, he had a huge collection piled up to take back to his room, just to start with. "Holly!" he called, and the elf appeared instantly beside him.

"How is Holly being able to help Master Harry?" she asked.

"Could you show me back to my room?" Harry asked, moving to pick up the books he had picked out.

"Master Harry, you is not thinking about carrying those back to your room!" Holly cried, and Harry stopped guiltily. "No no no! You is letting Holly take care of that!" she told him, and the books vanished with a crack. "They is waiting in your room Master Harry," she told him, "If you is ever needing to take books there, you is asking Holly to do it for you, it is her job!"

"Ok Holly, I won't do it again, promise," Harry said, holding up his hands in surrender.

"Good," Holly announced, oblivious to the sarcasm in his tone, and then led him back to his room. Harry once again did his best to memorise the route they took, thinking that he might need to get shown the way once more, but that he could probably get from his room to the library mostly unaided by now.

When they got back to the room, Harry found that all of the books had been placed neatly on his bookshelf in alphabetical order. "Is Master Harry needing any foods?" Holly asked him, sounding hopeful.

"Yeah ok, just a snack though," Harry said, and the elf vanished instantly. Harry picked up one of the books and flopped down on his bed to start reading. He had barely started reading when Holly returned, bearing a tray with a glass of milk, some orange juice, biscuits, miniature sandwiches and crisps.

She left the tray on his desk, so Harry got up and took his book over there to settle down. The book was fascinating; it mentioned a lot of techniques that Harry had never even considered, and he already couldn't wait to get back to Hogwarts and try some of the spells it mentioned out.

After a little while of reading, however, he started to get a little fidgety and decided to put the book down for awhile and explore his new room properly instead.

When he opened the drawers of the desk, he discovered more quills, Muggle pens, parchment and booklets of paper, along with everything else he could have thought necessary. In the bottom drawer, much to his surprise, he found a laptop with its cords set neatly beside it.

It was not the only Muggle item in the room. Harry had found a CD player and a couple of CDs, although they were all of classical music – it didn't surprise him at all to think that this would be where Charles' taste turned to – and there was a TV in one corner of the room, although it had not been plugged in.

It was the first time he had seen any real Muggle technology in a wizards house – he didn't count some of the things that Arthur Weasley had lying around – and he found his interest in old Muggle things reawakening. He hadn't even thought of using computers since he had entered the Magical World five years ago.

He briefly considered turning the TV on, or trying to use the laptop, but he ended up deciding not to investigate them just yet. It was getting quite late now, and he had a long day, with the shopping and exploring the library. He had hoped that Charles would have come to see him by now, but his 'Important Guests' must still be demanding his attention.

Harry made a brief attempt to start on his homework before he decided to call it a night. Tomorrow would be plenty early enough to start working on it.

The next morning Charles came to see Harry, and smiled contentedly when he saw the boy in his new clothes. "That is a vast improvement," he announced, and Harry smiled in return.

"Good morning," Harry greeted his new friend.

"It is indeed," Charles agreed. "I apologize for not coming to see you last night; I was rather busy with some vampire guests who were asking me to do things I would rather avoid. Thankfully, you provided the perfect excuse to stay out of things. Even they agreed that my first duty was to you as my ward."

"That's alright," Harry said, "Holly showed me to the library. It's huge, you've got a lot of books there."

"We have a lot of books in there. As the last living Potter, you own them as much as I do," Charles replied. "I hope that you make good use of them."

"I found some yesterday, they're really interesting," Harry said, waving vaguely in the direction of the bookcase. Charles glanced over his selections and his eyebrows raised slightly.

"That's rather heavy reading for a teenager," he remarked.

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. He trusted Charles – he had come to live with him, after all – but he wasn't at all sure that he wanted to discuss the Prophecy with him just yet, or his destiny. He settled on a half-truth, "I'm the Boy Who Lived, that makes me pretty much top of Voldemort's hit list. I need to be able to defend myself."

Charles gave him a look that suggested he was well aware that Harry was leaving something important out, but he didn't press the issue. "A good point, you are a very sought-after young man," he agreed. "The better you can defend yourself, the more chance we have of keeping the family alive. I thought perhaps we could have breakfast together this morning?" Charles suggested a moment later, and Harry nodded in agreement. He followed Charles to the same room they had eaten in the day before, where a full meal was already waiting for them.

While they ate, Harry asked as many questions as he could about the house and it's history, and about his ancestors. Charles seemed more than delighted to share anecdotes about almost all of Harry's family, and talk about the various other properties that the family owned. Harry was surprised to hear just how wealthy his family was; it wasn't really something he had ever considered before, beyond knowing that he was very well off.

The dishes vanished as soon as they had finished eating, and Harry immediately noted that the table had changed from the day before; it now sported a glass top with a chessboard inlaid in silver in the centre.

"Do you play?" Charles asked, looking hopeful. "I have never been able to convince Wilfred or Lucy to have a game with me … or the house elves, for that matter."

"My friend Ron is really good at it," Harry said, "We play sometimes, but he always wins." He decided not to say that he was sure Charles could run rings around Ron, considering how long he had had to hone his skills.

"Would you care to join me in a game? I am sure you are better than you think," Charles offered. Harry shrugged his agreement, and immediately the animated chess pieces appeared on the board.

"You may play white," Charles said.

Harry nodded, and made the first move. Charles played, and then Harry did. With Ron, he had never really gotten all that better at playing, because he just moved without thinking. Charles claimed a very easy victory in the first round, then reset the board and showed Harry different moves he could have made to save himself. When he felt that Harry had a better idea of what was going on, they started a second game.

Harry very quickly learned that Charles loved chess -even more than Ron- and that he wanted nothing more than someone who could provide him with a challenge. Within just a few games, Harry realized that he had probably learnt more about chess in the past hour than he had in the five years he'd been playing with Ron.

He was actually thinking moves through now, examining different possibilities before he actually made his move, and even though he didn't come close to beating Charles even once, when they stopped playing a few hours later he felt that maybe he'd be able to give Ron a run for his money when he got back to Hogwarts.

"I thought perhaps you would like to go flying today," Charles remarked when he sensed that Harry was getting bored of chess; he had stopped trying to consider every move and reverted to making the first play that seemed like it would work.

"That would be great – how far can I fly?"

"The borders of the property are clearly marked," Charles said, showing him to a window and pointing to the wall that ran around the entire property, "The area within the wall is warded so that no Muggle will see you, the wards continue upwards so you can fly as high as you like as long as you don't pass over the barrier."

"Awesome," Harry said, smiling broadly.

"Do you need me to show you back to your room?" Charles asked, and Harry nodded. He realized, when he got back to his room, that he could open a window that was more than large enough for him to fly out of. "I suggest that you leave the window open so that you know where to return once you have finished flying," Charles said, "But if you can't find it, just land anywhere on the property and call Holly, she'll be able to show you back."

Harry nodded. He changed into more casual clothes again – jeans and tshirt – and mounted his Firebolt. With Umbridge's ban having been in place for most of last year, Harry was absolutely delighted to be able to fly again. He spent hours and hours in the air soaring around, only returning to his room when he was starving.

He had a quick shower and changed clothes yet again before calling Holly and asking her to bring him lunch. While he was waiting for her to get back, he found that Hedwig had returned and was sleeping in her new cage, and that there was a letter resting on his pillows.

He went and opened it, half dreading what the Headmaster might have to say about him leaving the Dursley's.

Dear Harry,

Leaving your relatives house was very irresponsible of you. The Death Eaters are out in force, as are the Dementors of Azkaban. Two members of the Order of the Phoenix have already died all too publicly in recent times, not counting Robert, who died while trying to keep you safe. You say that you are somewhere safe, but do you really understand the protections that are over you at your aunt and uncles? Please, take heed and return.

I personally set up your protections there, and I know them better than anyone else could. Trust me when I say that you cannot possibly be as safe as you are there, wherever you are. Not even Hogwarts is quite as safe as the house of your relatives. I apologise if it seems that I am trying to run your life, but I must reinforce the lack of security across the Magical World. We have been making arrangements for you recently to try and make it safe to go to the Burrow for the rest of the summer – I know you have been restless at Privet Drive, and I am doing my best to make you more comfortable.

I am afraid that I cannot simply allow you to remain where you are without making any effort to find you. Voldemort's minions are more intelligent than I think you realise, and unless I can be certain that one has not tricked you, I cannot leave you be. The Headquarters have been moved, I feel I must also warn you, and I had greatly wished to make contact with you, as I believe that you can help us with our present difficulties.

Even if I wanted to, I could not call off the search teams at this point. An alert went out when you were discovered gone from your relatives, and Cornelius was made aware of the situation before your letter reached me. He is edgy enough at this point in time – the public are already starting to call for his resignation, and I believe that he sees finding you as being the only way that he could possibly regain their support. The longer you remain 'disappeared', the closer he will come to being forced to resign. He will not do this without protest, I warn you.

Please, Harry, send word to the Burrow and let us know where you are. We will come to you and see if your current position is defendable, and do our best to make whatever security measures necessary. If we cannot secure your current location, then I will have to ask you to return to Privet Drive, or to the Burrow, if we have finished with our current arrangements by then.

Yours truly,

Albus.

Harry frowned at the missive, trying to decide how it made him feel. It irritated him no end that Dumbledore wasn't willing to stay out of his life, but at the same time he knew that Dumbledore was just trying to do his best to look out for Harry.

He wondered how he should respond, but in the end decided to leave it and talk with Charles about it. He already knew that he would be telling Dumbledore as firmly as possible that he would under no circumstances allow the Order or the Ministry to come to him and 'make sure he was safe' but he didn't want to be rude about it.

He left the letter on his desk and ate his lunch when it arrived, then started to do some of his homework for the summer, and read some more of his new book.

Chapter edited 20 October 2008

Again, only small changes were made to this chapter in the most recent rewrite.

WolfMoon