The white steps shimmered in the blazing summer sun, diamonds ground to dust, as they ran, laughing towards the azure sea. You turn around, grabbing - - - - - 's hand, and the two of you trip, stumbling to the white sand.
The day is bright, the sky clear and endless. You lay there, breathless with joy, sun kissing your skin, small blessings from Apollo.
You turn your head-
"Master Harry is sleeping in a very bad place," Pippy said, shaking him awake, and Harry opened his eyes, only to be greeted by the underside of a table.
He didn't even remember falling asleep. After he found out that there was a library, inside the house, all he could think about was checking out what kind of books were there. But he must have nodded off somewhere between reading about the proper way to de-gnome a garden, and how to enchant clocks.
He turned his head to the side, Pippy, and Whisper on Pippy's head, blinking down at him. He rubbed his eyes, yawning as he sat up, blinking away the quickly fading image of an unfamiliar blue sea.
The ocean...I've never been to the beach before, I wonder why I was dreaming about it? Maybe my brain's trying to tell me that I should go?
"Its fine, Pippy, I'm used to sleeping like this."
"Not good, not good," Pippy muttered to herself, distressed, large ears flopping around as she shook her head, wringing her hands together, "Master Harry is living in very, very, bad place before, but Pippy is going to take care of him now."
Whisper, now dislodged from Pippy's head shaking, stretched out in front of him, kneading the carpet with his little paws.
"It wasn't that bad after I started staying at the library," Harry said, trying to reassure her, but that just seemed to make her feel even worse. "And I told you yesterday that you could just call me Harry."
She ignored him, tugging on his arm and pulling him up from underneath the table, dusting him off even though he was clean, wearing the new (to him, since they actually belonged to his father) clothes she had given him yesterday.
"Master Harry is not knowing what is best for him," she sighed, shaking her head and bringing them all to the dining room with a snap of her fingers, "But it is breakfast time, so Pippy will let him keep thinking silly thoughts as long as he eats."
Just like last night, spread across the dining room table was enough food to feed him for an entire year, maybe longer, though this time the spread didn't include any meat, the house elves having at least listened to him about that, even if they did ignore him about how much he could actually eat. He had told them that he didn't need a lot of food, but they insisted that they needed to figure out what he liked, so he had a little of everything in front of him.
At least he was able to convince them to eat with him, otherwise, all the food would be going to waste.
He sat down at the head of the table, Whisper jumping up to claim the spot at his right, and he filled his little dish with some fish first, before he gave himself some toast and a peeled orange, adding two spoonfuls of scrambled eggs at the look Pippy gave him when she saw his plate.
Only after he started to eat did the rest of the house elves arrive in little clouds of smoke, chatting happily, first looking at him before they filled their own plates up.
He ate, looking around the room as he did, and his eyes landed on the large fireplace set into the wall, reminding him of yesterday when he used the floo.
Did that man come into the room before, or after I said where I was going? He didn't follow me yesterday, but if he heard me, then, then he could show up at any minute! He clenched his fist, not noticing as the piece of orange he was holding squeezed out and flew across the table, landing on Tam-Tam's plate, who squeaked, glaring at Glen as she flung a spoonful of applesauce at his confused face, but how did he get the key to the room anyway? Did he take it from Felix? Or maybe, maybe that was his friend, and Felix gave him the key so he could come say hi?
"Maybe I should've waited. But Felix said to leave if anyone besides him came to the room..." lost in thought, he lifted his hand to his mouth, blinking in surprise as his hand came up empty.
Harry reached for another orange piece, but he had to duck down as a pancake came at him, soaring over his head. It landed with a splat behind him, and he only realized how loud things had gotten by how quiet everything suddenly was.
He looked up, and was confronted by pure foody chaos.
Dishes of jam were knocked over on their sides, plates of food were pushed around, pieces of toast laying defeated beneath a pile of eggs. Arthur was wearing a waffle as a hat, and Casey and Blink were covered in beans and gravy, the rest of the elves frozen, eyes on him, spoons and forks full of various foods stopped mid-launch in their hands. And amidst them all, making his way cheerfully down the table, eating food as he went, was Whisper.
"Master Harry, we're so-"
"Forgive Casey, she didn't mean-"
"It was Glen who-"
"Glen did nothing! It was Tam-Tam-"
"Hey, wait, calm down, I'm not angry, I was just...surprised...and they're gone," he tried to stop them, but his voice was quickly drowned out by the house elves all speaking over each other, and the small pops as they disappeared, taking the whole mess with them, the whole thing over and done with in a matter of seconds.
Whisper came to a stop in front of him, licking his paw, and Harry looked over the empty dining room, wondering how everything had turned around so fast.
Pippy popped in soon after, hands clenched in her pillowcase dress, refusing to meet his eyes, "Pippy is so sorry for their behavior! They are still young, they didn't-!"
"Pippy! Its fine, I'm not angry. I tried to tell them, but they left before I could. They were just having fun, right? If I realized what was happening sooner, I probably would have joined in too. And they cleaned everything up, so it's like nothing ever happened."
Pippy sniffed, giving him a wide smile, "Master Harry is still very young, but he is a good master, with a kind heart."
Harry blinked at her, confused. The house elves were just playing around a little, that wasn't anything to get mad about, so why did she think he deserved to be called kind and good? He didn't even do anything.
"Does Master Harry need anything before Pippy goes?"
"I do, actually, do you think you could answer a question for me?"
"Of course!"
"You know how I came through the floo yesterday? Can anyone who knows the name of this place come through too?"
"No Master Harry, only those keyed into the wards can come to the manor house. Master Harry was brought here when he was a baby and keyed in."
"Wards? What are those?"
Pippy looked around the dining room, before walking closer to the table, "Wards are a type of magic that's like, like a bubble, or a glass bowl! Yes, a glass bowl with a keyhole, surrounding the place you put them on." She snapped her fingers, making a clear glass bowl, salt and pepper shakers, and a teacup appear.
She put the bowl over the pepper shaker on the table, and traced her finger over the side, cutting away an opening on the bowl in the same shape as the shakers. Pippy pushed the salt shaker into the opening, showing him how it fit inside, "See? Like a key in a lock. The wards on this house are ones of protection, so only those who are allowed can pass through the wards and come inside." She picked up the teacup and tried to push it through the opening, letting him see how it didn't fit.
"So I'm the salt shaker, and everyone else is the teacup? And as long as I'm inside the glass bowl, I'm safe, and no one with a different shape can come in?"
"Yes, Master Harry is the key that fits in the lock. Everyone else is the wrong key, but Master Harry can change a person's shape if he keys them into the wards, and make them fit." Pippy looked from the table to him, eyes wide and brows pinched, "Does Master Harry understand? Pippy is sorry, but she isn't the best person to ask about magic that is not house-elf magic."
"What? No, that was perfect! Thank you, Pippy. This was a great way to show me how the wards work. Do you know if anyone else is keyed into the wards, or is it just me?"
"Pippy can't tell you, but the Book can. Master Harry can also remove someone's access to the wards by striking their name from the Book. Would Master Harry like for Pippy to bring him to it?"
"Yes Pippy, thank you."
Pippy led them out of the dining room and through the huge house, until they were in an empty space directly in the middle of the house.
Directly in the center of the floor, there was a mural, showing seven golden rings that got smaller as they reached the triangle in the center, each point touching the smallest ring that it was inside of. And in the middle of the triangle was a book, the same symbol that was on the ring Griphook gave him engraved on its front.
Harry walked on the mural, and as soon as he did strange symbols came to life in the space between each ring, grouped together in sets of three, and the house hummed beneath his feet, a deep vibration that he could feel down in his bones.
"What's going on? What is this?"
"This is the point where the wards are anchored. Master Harry just needs to pick up the book."
He walked towards the center, walking through each ring, the strange symbols moving when he did, spinning slowly around like they were on a wheel. He stopped in the triangle, and tried to figure out how he was supposed to pick up a book that was a picture on the floor.
She did say that I just need to pick it up, so maybe I should just pretend that it's a normal book.
He knelt down and touched the book like he would any other, and just like that, it was, hard floor transforming into smooth leather right before his eyes, until he held in his hands a thin book. Gold threads shimmered in and out of sight, and for a second he could have sworn that he saw one of them connecting him to the book, a few others leading away from the book and through the walls, disappearing from sight.
He blinked, rubbing his eyes, and the threads winked away.
That...was odd, Harry thought, touching his chest and moving the book from side to side, expecting to feel a pull, but there was nothing. He really must not have gotten enough sleep if he was starting to see things.
He sat on the floor and opened the book. The paper was slightly yellowed, the first page, and the next few pages after it, filled with names that had a line drawn through them. It was after those first few pages that he came across the first page that had names that weren't crossed out. The page started off with his parents' names, and then his, though theirs were crossed out too.
Oh, so the lines must mean that the person whose name it's drawn through is...dead.
In the whole book, the only names that weren't crossed out were his, and three other people.
Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. None of their last names are Potter, so what are they doing in the book?
Wait, didn't that book about me say that You-Know-Who person found out where we were because one of my parents friends betrayed them?
Harry frowned, staring at the names. He didn't know if one of them was that friend, but as long as there was a chance that one of them was, he didn't want anyone, besides him, keyed into the wards.
I want to be the only salt shaker that can fit through the keyhole. They can go back to being teacups.
"Pippy, how do I remove someone's access, and will they know when I do?"
"No Master, they won't know, and all Master Harry has to do is run his finger through their name while thinking what he wants to do."
"Thank you, Pippy."
Harry ran his finger along each name, imagining the threads he had seen earlier snapping like his finger was a pair of scissors, snipping right through them. A thick black line now ran through each name, leaving him the only one still keyed into the wards.
Now no one can get in except for me.
He put the book back in the triangle, and stood up, watching as it sank back into the floor, the glow and movement of the symbols coming to a stop as it did.
"Now, Whisper, what do you say we get ready to head back to Diagon? After checking on Felix first, of course."
"Blue Moon Inn, room 307."
Harry stepped out of the fireplace, back in the room from yesterday, significantly less dusty then when he had made the trip going the opposite way.
He looked around the now feather free room. The pillows were fixed and the bed was made, looking just the way it did before he and Whisper got a little...carried away.
"So Felix isn't up here...do you think he's downstairs? If he isn't I'm not sure how..." he trailed off, freezing as the door slowly creaked open.
It stopped halfway, and Harry watched it, waiting with baited breath to see who came in.
It inched open a little further, and a, a little black head popped around the corner, looking around the room with shining red eyes, before it darted inside, quickly followed by more of whatever it was.
The first one stopped in the middle of the room, sitting with its tail curled around its paws, head cocked to the side as it looked around the area where he was standing, and Harry realized as he looked closer that it was some kind of, baby fox?
It looked like a small fox, if foxes were made out of wispy black smoke, and had red eyes.
The rest of the foxes ran around the room, almost looking like they were searching for something. One was locked in a staring match with Whisper, and as he watched them, another bumped into his leg. When it did, the rest of the foxes stopped where they were, heads swerving around to face him.
"Hello," he said, smiling as he knelt down to touch it, fingers passing right through its back, like it actually was made of smoke, "wow, what are you? And where did all of you come from?"
In response, all the foxes ran to the first one, no, not to it, Harry realized, eyes wide, but into it. They converged together, all seven of the smaller foxes, forming a mass of swirling black shadows and whirling red eyes.
Eventually, it settled, and sitting in its place was one large fox, seven fluffy looking tails waving around behind it.
"That was amazing! Wow, how did you do that?" He walked towards it, unable to believe what he had just seen, and he received an even bigger shock when it opened its mouth and spoke.
"Why thank you, it's always nice to have such an appreciative audience. Now, would you happen to be Felix's 'Red'?" The fox had a man's voice, the way he spoke making it sound like he was on the verge of laughing, amusement curling around each word.
"You're welcome," he sat on the floor in front of the fox, Whisper moving to stand in front of him, "You know Felix? Are you his friend? Is he here? How did you do that just now? And why do you have so many tails? And, oh! who are you?"
The fox chuckled, gracefully rising to his feet, slowly circling Harry as he spoke, "Curious, are you, and full of so many questions, though you have yet to answer mine. But yes, I do know Felix, and he is here. I am Augustin, though you may call me August, and I am the owner of this inn."
"Really? But, don't you need hands to do things?" He looked down at his own hands, then back up at August as his tails brushed against him, flicking in the air as he walked towards the door, "Or I guess you could use your tails...wait, you asked me something?"
"Hands might be an issue if this were my permanent state. Fortunately, I am not always the fox, though the fox is always me. And yes, I asked if you were the boy that Felix brought here yesterday, the one calling himself 'Red'."
"I am. And if you're not always a fox...then, are you like Felix? Only, you're not a wolf, so... a werefox?" he ran his hand down Whispers back, petting him as he puzzled it out, fire warm against his back. It made sense that people would be able to turn into more than just wolves, and that was a plus since it meant he had more options about the animals he was going to try and turn into.
"Not quite. Our, individual, curses manifest very differently."
Saying that, August lost his form again, but instead of turning back into the smaller foxes, the smoke grew bigger and bigger, towering over Harry, before it condensed into the vague shape of a person.
The smoke seemed to suck inside of itself, and then standing in front of Harry was a man. A man, he realized after staring at him, that he recognized from yesterday.
Harry shot to his feet, shocked. "You, you're the man from yesterday! The one that came into the room instead of Felix!"
"I am."
"But, why did you come instead of him? He told me that I had to leave if someone else came to the door, but if you came with him, then everything would have been fine."
"Yes, I know. He very...emphatically informed me after you left the reasons why he did. And I came in his stead because I was curious; he told me some things about you that I wanted to confirm for myself." He placed a hand over his heart, inclining his head as he bowed slightly to him, "But it was never my intention to frighten you away, I apologize if that was the case."
Harry thought over everything August said, nodding to himself, "That makes sense. And its fine, I wasn't scared, it was actually kind of exciting."
"You certainly are interesting. Now," August clapped his hands together, eyes intent on his face, "I hate to seem repetitive, but you are Red, correct?"
"Yes, I am."
"Really," August's eyes narrowed, before he smiled, whole face lighting up, "well! Who am I to interfere with such an interesting play? And this gives me something to tease Felix with... Regardless! We've spent enough time up here, don't you think? Are you ready to go put him out of his misery?"
"Misery?" Harry asked, following him out the room, Whisper close on his heels.
"You'll understand when you see him."
The dark smell of coffee mixed with iron, bitter, black, blacker than even August's evil little soul, with just the faintest tinge of red, the only way that Mikhail could drink it, filled the air around their table. The passive-aggressive tinkling of Mikhail's spoon tapping against the side of his cup reminded him that he had been sitting there for going on 10 minutes since he last spoke, head in his hands, and that Mikhail's patience, endless though it may seem, was not, in fact, actually endless.
Though their decade's long friendship stood as an example of the exact opposite.
"Mikhail, I'm a horrible person," he solemnly informed him, voice muffled from behind his hands.
"Ah, what a ground-breaking revelation. Truly, the only possible conclusion to your, nearly 7 minutes, spent informing me, in every way, shape, and fashion, that Augustin is a horrible person," Mikhail said, voice dry, and Felix didn't have to look to know that his eyebrow was raised, deceptively good-natured smile, in direct contrast to his words, hidden behind the rim of his cup.
He could practically hear it.
"He is! But that's not anything new," Felix moaned, now bent over the table, face smushed into the wood. "I only knew him for, what, 20, 30 minutes top? But he was so small, and alone. And I just, I don't know, I just felt like I had to protect him, watch out for him, you know, keep him safe. And now he's gone. I lost him! And do you know what kind of person manages to mess things up so badly, in such a short amount of time? A horrible person, that's who, and that makes me a horrible person."
Mikhail sighed, cup returning to its saucer with a small clink, "It, most likely, is not as bad as you are making it out to be. You do have a habit of... slightly overreacting to things."
Felix lifted his head, looking Mikhail dead in the eye, expression blank, "I basically told him that if the door opened, and it wasn't me opening it, that it was a child eating monster, out for his blood, specifically, coming into the room to get him." His head hit the table with a dull thunk as he dropped it again, "he was probably so scared. And hungry. Scared and hungry. And that's not even getting into how he must have felt after the whole thing with the hag. I only left to get him food, you know, and I didn't even manage to do that. And I can't stop thinking, is he safe? Did he manage to get home? Did someone take him? By the time I got to the room, it was a mess, and he was already gone."
"A hag," Mikhail stressed, voice flat.
"Yes. Why does everyone forget about the hag?"
"Felix, how old was this child, exactly?" The atmosphere of the table had changed, and Felix sat up slowly, wincing at the tone of Mikhail's voice, unable to meet his eyes.
"Ugh, you're going to hate me..."
"Felix."
He could feel Mikhail's eyes boring into the side of his head, and he rubbed the back of his neck, slowly inching his seat away from the table, "He was, he looked like he was maybe 9? Almost 10?"
"Felix."
Mikhail's voice was unsettling, not because of how soft he spoke, but because he managed to infuse his name with the weight of cold disappointment, and the threat of violence. He barely managed to reign in his instincts, though he couldn't stop his eyes from shifting.
"I know, I know, alright?" He rubbed his arms, looking off to the side. If there was one thing that got to Mikhail more than anything else, it was children, specifically, children being in danger, and that was even before his daughter was born.
"Do you? From the moment you decided to take on the responsibility of watching over that child, however temporary, you had a duty to ensure no harm befell him. Your intentions may have been true, I have no doubt about that, but the best of intentions mean nothing in the face of the consequences brought about by the neglect of that duty."
To all of that, Felix could say nothing, because Mikhail was right. He had-
"Oh honorable Souris, how very like you to make this seem much more serious than it is," August said, arriving at the worst possible moment, as usual. Felix turned to look at him, but he was caught in a staring match with Mikhail, distracting him.
But he managed to get Mikhail to stop focusing on me, so he's good for something, at least.
"Aoustin." Mikhail's eyes flashed a stormy blue before he rolled them, relaxing back in his seat, apparently having decided that August's sudden appearance deserved no further reaction.
August smirked, crossing his arms, "How's your little nightshade?"
"...she is well," Mikhail eventually sighed, sipping his coffee, dismissive in action if not in words, not that that ever deterred August.
"Good. But this really was just a small misunderstanding, isn't that right, Red?" August tilted his head to the side, directing his question to the empty air at his right, and Felix sat up fully, ready to call him out on his clear taunt, when, to his complete and utter shock, Red replied.
"That's-"
"Red!" Felix sprang out of his chair and rushed around the table, frantically looking him over to make sure that he wasn't hurt. He breathed a sigh of relief, all the tension that been building up since August nonchalantly told him that Red had disappeared, leaving him all at once.
"Thank the Moon," he ran a hand through his hair, crouching down so that they were eye to eye, "Are you alright? Did anyone hurt you? You don't look hurt, but that doesn't really-wait, how did you get back here?"
"He certainly isn't writhing on the floor in agony, bleeding from his eyes, so I would say that he's fine."
"I wasn't asking you," Felix glared up at August, who didn't bother looking back at him.
"And yet here I am, answering all the same," August drawled, patting Red on the shoulder, "Riveting as this all is though, I have things that I need to do. It was a pleasure to meet you Red, and remember what I said."
"I will. And thank you again!" Red said, waving goodbye to August as he walked off, who gave them a parting grin before he disappeared behind the counter.
"I really am fine though, and I got here through the fireplace," Red told him, and he breathed a sigh of relief, laughing as the last of his worry finally vanished, though a little was quick to make a reappearance when he saw Red start to frown as he looked him over.
"Are you okay? You seemed really upset before."
"Am I fine? I'm great now that I know that you're okay, and of course I was upset. Do you have any idea how worried I was after I saw that you weren't in the room? And I'm so sorry about that, by the way, I know how scared you must have been."
"Why would you be worried about me?" Red asked, perplexed, and Felix looked at him, expression hard, because what? Why would someone worrying about him confuse him? Did his family not care about him? His mind raced, thoughts crowding around each other.
They must not. Why else would he be here, again, alone? They aren't taking care of him properly. Maybe I should-
"He worried, because it is natural to worry," Mikhail said, thankfully interrupting his thoughts, which, if he had continued down the path he was heading on, would have ended up with him either finding Red's parents to confront them himself, or trying to convince Red that he would be much better off if he came to live with him in Germany.
Neither of which was appropriate, or made much sense in hindsight, but that, he knew from past experience, at the moment he was doing them, would have felt like the most logical thing in the world. So again, thankful for the interruption.
"He's right. You're a kid. Adults are supposed to worry about whether or not you're alright. This is my friend, Mikhail, by the way."
Red looked at him, clearly skeptical, and instead of saying anything in response turned to Mikhail, focusing on him.
"Really? But August called you mouse earlier."
Mikhail gave his lengthening nails and loosely curled fists a Look, and he sighed, forcing himself to relax. He just, he felt so frustrated. It was obvious that Red was just dropping it because he didn't believe him, and he didn't know if he should keep on it, or leave it alone.
Mikhail turned fully to face Red, face gentling automatically, a soft smile on his face, "Yes, it has been many years since he has last called me properly by my name. Augustin is someone who, at times, it is better to simply ignore. Would you like to sit? I can excuse myself if you would like to talk with Felix."
Mikhail stood up, without waiting for Red's answer, and he shook his head, bright eyes wide as he stepped back.
"No, no, sit back down, it's alright, I actually have to go. I have some things to do in Diagon Alley before I meet up with my friend. But thank you."
Red smiled, and Felix was struck again by the overwhelming urge to hug him, what Red had actually said taking a second to process.
"Ah, then I wish you safe-"
"Wait," Felix called out, stopping Red as he walked towards the door, "hold on, are you alone again?"
"No."
"Good, I don't want you-"
"Whisper's with me," Red said, bending down to pick up said kitten. He looked at them, tail swishing back and forth.
"Meow."
"No. That is not at all what I meant. A person, is there a person-"
Red cradled Whisper in one arm, pushing up his sleeve "Oh, look at the time!" He said, surprised, looking at a watch that wasn't there, "I'm sorry, I have to go-"
"Wait! At least let me walk you-"
"It's okay! You're with your friend, and I don't want to bother you. And like I said, I have Whisper with me, so I'm fine," Red told him, walking backward, somehow managing to maneuver his way to the front without tripping.
"You wouldn't be bothering me at all! I want-"
He waved goodbye, not even pretending to consider what he was saying, and Felix watched the door close, torn between following out and walking him to the end of Knockturn anyway, and staying where he was. Mikhail pulled on his arm, directing him back to his seat, making his decision for him.
"This is giving me flashbacks to yesterday. I'm surprised you didn't try to say anything." He leaned back, balancing the chair on its back legs, and pressed hard on his eyes, letting the starbursts distract him.
"There is only so much to be said and done for one who you hold no connection to. It is not our place to stop him, but only to wish him safety, along with the hope that Fate may smile kindly on him." Mikhail said, but when Felix looked at him, he was staring at the door, pensive, coffee still steaming but untouched, fingers tapping against the table in beats of three.
And just out of the corner of his eye, Felix could have sworn that he saw the shadow of something small, maybe the size of a mouse, follow Red out the door.
Harry opened the door to Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions and saw that besides himself, and the woman standing by a table piled high with boxes, talking to herself, that there was a boy, around his age, in the store too, standing on a platform in front of a wall of mirrors.
Whisper jumped off his shoulder as soon as they got inside, walking off to go explore, and he followed him, looking around.
"I'll be round in just a minute," she called out, riffling through a basket on the floor, and he stopped, watching her, "You can-where is that-? step up on the other platform, and I'll get to-oh Merlin." She turned around, adjusting her glasses and pulling something bright blue out of her apron. She placed it on the floor and it grew long legs, like a spider, and scuttled off further into the store.
He followed it until it passed the empty platform next to the boy, watching it disappear into a colorful pile of fabric from his new spot on top of it.
"Do forgive me. It's that time of year again, and no matter what, I always get so caught up in all these uniform orders. Are you here for a Hogwarts uniform as well-?" she looked around, blinking in confusion, before the boy on the other platform interrupted her.
"Don't forget that I was here first," the boy said, looking down his nose at her, "You have to finish up with me before you even think about starting with anyone else."
The woman rolled her eyes, walking towards them, "I am well aware Mr. Malfoy. I don't need you to remind me, again."
"I am, but would I be able to get some regular clothes too?" Harry asked looking down at himself. For all his life he had only Dudley's old cast-offs to wear, and even now he was wearing clothes that had once belonged to his father that Pippy had given him. And while it did fit a lot better, it still wasn't his, and it was about time that he had clothes that were just for him.
"Oh! I don't know how missed you," she shook her head and looked him over, ignoring the other boy, Malfoy, who was growing visibly more upset the longer that she did.
"I'm Madam Malkin. Now if you would turn around...good, good." He turned, and where there was once one of him, there were now five, four more Harry's staring back at him from each mirror pane.
Harry had honestly never really had the chance to look at himself in a mirror until yesterday, so it was a little odd to be staring back at himself like he was.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the blue spider thing from before, and he turned his head, watching as it scurried back over to them, a long, fine black cloth clutched in its back legs and trailing along the floor. Madam Malkin bent down to pick it and the cloth up, the legs retracting back inside, and slipped it back into her pocket.
"I'll deal with you in a second dear, but I'll take your measurements while you're waiting. Now, Mr. Malfoy, is this of a high enough quality for you, or would you like something different?" Madam Malkin asked, showing Malfoy the cloth. He touched it, humming to himself, but Harry's attention was focused on Madam Malkin's table.
"This will do."
Measuring tapes of all different lengths and colors and sizes floated up in the air, and zoomed over to him, a notepad with a feather, no, a quill, posed over it, tagging along, ready to write.
"That's fine," Harry told her, watching as the measuring tapes got closer and closer.
The measuring tapes twirled around him, and Harry was soon overcome by the oddly ticklish feeling the magic of the tapes gave off as they wrapped around his body, measuring everything that they could, the quill on the notepad working furiously to jot down each measurement.
Whisper, who had wandered back over, was at his feet, jumping back and forth off the stand as the measuring tape worked, batting at it whenever it was within reach.
Madam Malkin pulled another notepad out of her apron and wrote something down, the cloth flying away to go drape itself on a naked mannequin, long pins popping out of it to pin the cloth down in the vague shape of a robe.
"So you're going to Hogwarts too? What house do you think you'll be in? I'm going to be in Slytherin, which is the best house, like my parents; they're out gathering the rest of my supplies."
"House?" What did he mean house? Wasn't Hogwarts a school?
"Yes, you know, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor? Though only idiots end up there." Malfoy explained, not actually helping at all, and somehow managing to confuse him even more, all the names he had just said sounding more like magical creatures than houses.
He shrugged, "I don't know. It doesn't really matter, does it?"
Malfoy gasped, drawing back and looking personally insulted, like Harry had just slapped him, "Of course it does! Father said that the house you end up in decides what kind of person you are."
What kind of person I am? Now, what is that supposed to mean? And how does it have anything to do with a house? Does he mean if you're someone who likes to play outside or inside? But houses can't talk.
"How is a house supposed to tell me what kind of person I am? And shouldn't you know who you are if you're old enough to go to school?"
"You-! Well, actually you should, but that's what my father says, and he's always right."
"Well, that's what your father thinks. What do you think?" Malfoy stared at him, conflicted, expression a strange mix of confused anger, the finger he had been brandishing at him like an especially determined pointy stick, now hanging limp.
So that's what the problem is! It's his father. Okay, now everything is starting to make sense. His father must not know what a house is, so he was filling his head with a bunch of nonsense, like when Vernon would lecture Dudley about how to be a 'real' man.
He nodded to himself, knowing he was right. "I'm sorry, but I don't think he is."
Harry kind of felt sorry for him. It was bad enough having to live with Vernon, watching how he turned Dudley into a mini him, and he couldn't imagine what it must feel like to actually go through the transformation to become a Vernon-like person. But he had a feeling that it probably felt like how spoiled milk smelled. And having to deal with that every day would turn anyone a bit off, just look at Dudley.
"I-"
"Here you are Mr. Malfoy. The button will start to shake when your order's ready, you can come back and get it then." Madam Malkin said, cutting Malfoy off. She handed him a shiny black button, and he took it, not taking his eyes off him as he stepped off the platform.
Malfoy didn't leave though, instead choosing to straighten himself out as he walked closer to him, looking determined.
"What's your name?"
Harry looked to the side, thinking. He had already used Rapunzel and Red, and if Malfoy was going to Hogwarts, that meant that he'd find out his real name eventually, so what name would fit the best...oh! He knew what name to use.
"It's Rumpelstiltskin," Harry told him, trying his best not to laugh at the face Malfoy made when he did.
"Rumpelstiltskin? I've never heard of that family name before," Malfoy frowned, looking down as he spoke to himself, raising his voice and looking back at him as he finished speaking, "but it doesn't sound muggle. Your parents are our sort, right?"
"Our sort? What-?" Now it was Harry's turn to be confused. Again.
"Magical! A witch and a wizard. You aren't a muggleborn, are you?" Malfoy asked, face sour, like he had smelled something bad.
"No, I'm not, and they wer-, I mean, are, they are magical," Harry said, quickly correcting himself.
"Good," he said, sounding relieved, "I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, though you probably already knew. I'll see you at Hogwarts." Draco held his hand out to him, and Harry looked at it, confused. Did he want a...handshake? He had only ever seen Vernon give handshakes to the people from his job who would sometimes come to visit.
Draco shook his hand at him, impatient, and he gingerly took it, still not sure what they were supposed to be doing. Draco moved their hands up and down three times before he let go, slipping the button into his pocket as he left the store.
"It's such a pity how they've made that boy turn out, but I suppose there's nothing to be done about it. Like father like son, I suppose," Madam Malkin shook her head at the closing door, turning back to him and plucking the notepad out of the air, the measuring tapes, now finished, wrapping themselves back up into neat coils and floating over to the table.
"Now that should do it for the measurements. You said that you wanted some things besides the uniform? What are you looking for? Daily wear, formal wear, an early start on your winter wardrobe or a full wardrobe set?" Madam Malkin asked him, looking him over critically as she listed each option.
"What's in the full wardrobe set?" Harry asked.
"Well, it's everything that I just listed combined, including a winter cloak, three hats, shoes, gloves, undergarments, and sleepwear. Does this seem like something you might want? Think carefully dear, though this definitely isn't Twilfitts and Tattling's, all those things together will cost you a pretty penny. You might want to talk to your parents before making a decision," She told him, now looking a little worried, probably wondering if he would be able to afford everything, and why he was alone.
"It's fine. They want me to get anything that I think I might need." Harry told her, and as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Madam Malkin's expression relaxed.
Harry, for his part, didn't feel like he was lying, because he knew, or at least he hoped, that his parents, whether they were with him or not, would have wanted him to at least have the things that he might need.
"Wonderful! And would you like some ribbons to tie up that lovely hair of yours?"
"Sure." That would come in handy, since the one hair tie he had found was back in his backpack, at the library.
"Here you are. This is going to take a while, and I don't want to keep you cooped up in here until I'm done. The button will warm up and start shaking when it's time for you to come back, so make sure you don't lose it. And-oh! Is this little darling yours?" Madam Malkin asked, plucking the notepad and the quill out of the air with one hand, as she handed him the button with the other, bending down to look at Whisper after she did.
"He is, and thank you Madam Malkin. I'll be back as soon as everything is done. Should I pay you now?" Harry asked, pocketing the button as he stepped off the platform.
"You can pay me when you come back dear, and don't worry, you don't have to rush. I close at 9, so you have plenty of time to have a bit of fun before you come back to get your things. They'll be ready in less than an hour," Madam Malkin said, voice starting to fade as she headed further into the store, her attention focused on the bolts of fabric hopping off the walls and toddling after her.
Harry left, pocketing the button and looking around the Alley, Whisper jumping back into his arms.
Now on to my next stop, a new backpack. And maybe a real watch. Oh! and Griphook. I wonder if he'd tell me about anyone who's ever been able to almost sneak into the bank without getting caught.
I mean, that is a question, and he did say to come to him if I had any.
—-
"So, Whisper, I now know that when Griphook said to come to him if I had questions, he did not expect that type of question, but at least now I have some idea of what will make a good disguise. Now I- why is my pocket, oh, the button," Harry reached into his pocket and removed the button that he had gotten from Madam Malkin.
It was shaking, almost jumping out of the palm of his hand, just like she had said it would when his order was ready and he could come pick it up. Whisper leaned down to examine it, looking ready to pounce, and not wanting that to happen he quickly put it back in his pocket.
It didn't take him long to make it back, and when he opened the door this time it was to see Madam Malkin standing at her table again, though this time it had a marginally smaller pile of blue boxes tied with purple ribbon on it.
Whisper honed in on a bit of stray ribbon laying on the floor, pouncing on it and wiggling around on his back as he gripped one end between his sharp little teeth, the rest of it caught in his claws. He looked happy, so Harry left him to it.
"Madam Malkin? Here's your button, and I'm here to get my things." Harry told her from his place on the other side of the table, handing over the button.
"Oh! Forgive me, I didn't see you come in. Here you are, and that will be 120 galleons," Madam Malkin said, taking the button from him and dropping it back into the glass bowl with the others.
She moved her stick in the shape of a V over the boxes, and a purple light shot out from its tip, engulfing the boxes on the table. When the light faded, where the boxes once were there was now a small heap of miniature boxes, the largest no bigger than a matchbox.
Harry put all the boxes into his new messenger bag and pulled out the money pouch, paying her, before he put that away too and snapped it shut.
"Have a good day dear. Don't hesitate to drop by again if you need anything else," Madam Malkin told him as she waved him off, and Harry waved back, promising that he would.
Whisper, seeing that he was done dropped the defeated ribbon that he had torn to shreds and walked towards him triumphantly, satisfaction clear in every step he took as he nimbly jumped into his arms again.
He checked the time again after he left, and saw that he had some time before he had to meet up with Blaise, so he headed towards the Apothecary.
He wasn't sure what he'd find inside, but he hoped it was something interesting.
Blaise bit the head off the squirming chocolate frog trapped in his hand, pulling off one of its still twitching legs as it finally stopped moving. He let Dumbledore's card fall to the ground, stuffing the now empty box back into his pocket along with the others.
Diagon Alley was slightly less crowded than yesterday, but that meant absolutely nothing to his headache, which reminded him with each second that passed that there was a reason why he didn't come here more than once a month, if he was lucky, and that it was a good one.
He sighed, eating the last of the frog, and closed his eyes.
It was almost four, and if he wasn't here already, Rapunzel was sure to show up soon. He winced, rubbing his temple, contemplating eating another frog, ignoring the little voice in his head, that sounded suspiciously like his mother's, telling him that since he had the time, he might as well 'practice his breathing exercises'.
Something brushed against his leg, breaking his train of thought, and forcing him to look down. A fluffy black kitten, with a ribbon the same color as its eyes tied around its neck, was rubbing against his leg.
He pushed it away with his foot, but it stubbornly stuck near him, meowing, trying to trick him into giving up his affection, "Hey, go away, shoo-"
"Good job Whisper! You found Blaise!" Rapunzel said, appearing in front of him, bending down to pick up the cat.
"That...blue," Blaise blurted out when he saw him, unable to hide his surprise.
Wearing clothes that almost fit, especially compared to whatever it was he had had on yesterday, Rapunzel almost looked like a different person, but that probably (definitely) had more to do with his hair than anything else.
A little brighter than Royal blue, all he could think about as he looked at it was the head of his mother's white-necked Jacobin. Or really any of the brighter blue based birds in her aviary.
"What?" Rapunzel asked, head tilted to the side.
"Your hair, it's very...blue," he told him.
He was pretty sure that no one could walk around without realizing that their hair had changed color, but who knew?
"I know!" Rapunzel said, offering no further explanation.
"...why?"
Rapunzel lifted a piece up, turning it back and forth, "I'm...exploring possibilities. Do you think it's too blue?"
Blaise looked at him, considered his extremely ambiguous answer, his headache, and came to the conclusion that he needed more chocolate.
"It's fine. Let's go."
Rapunzel nodded, following him as he led the way, still considering the piece of hair he was holding.
"I don't know, I think I might go with a different color." He said, dropping it.
"If you don't like the color, why don't you change it? You're a metamorphmagus, right?" Blaise pushed the door to Fortescue's open, and they walked in, cooling charms providing an immediate reprieve from the heat.
"What's a metamorphmagus?" Rapunzel asked, eyes wide.
"They're someone who can change their appearance at will. You're not one of them?"
"No, but I wish I was, that would be so cool. I took a potion to change the color, which tasted horrible. Do all potions taste bad?" He asked, sticking out his tongue in disgust. It was just as blue as his hair, and Blaise laughed, surprised.
"I think so. I've only ever taken some when I was sick, and those definitely tasted nasty." The person on the line in front of them moved to the side, and they walked up to the counter. "Do you know what you want to get, or do you want me to choose for you? You said that you've never had ice cream before, right?"
Rapunzel pressed his hands against the glass display, happiness pouring off him, making Blaise feel like this was his first time getting to try ice cream too.
"That's right. Everything looks so good. I don't know, I think you should choose," he said, eyes darting back and forth.
"What's this? You've never had ice cream before?" Mr. Fortescue asked, leaning over to look at them, tweaking his long black mustache.
Rapunzel stepped back, his cat butting its head against his, "No, but I've always wanted to try it."
"Well then! I'm honored to welcome you to the wonderful world of frozen treats. You can get whatever you'd like, free of charge!" Mr. Fortescue clapped his hands and spread his arms wide, smile jolly.
"And would you like a special treat for your pet? I have a Kneazle of my own, and I've been working on a special salmon ice cream for her, and she absolutely loves it."
"I would, thank you!" With that, they both turned to him, expectant, and he shrugged. This wasn't what he expected, but who was he to turn down free ice cream?
"We'll take the sampler set, and the Deluxe Death by Chocolate sundae, with extra brownie pieces to stay."
"Everything will be ready in a minute," he told them, starting to get everything ready.
"You can go get us a table, I'll bring everything when it's done," Blaise said, turning to Rapunzel, but he was already gone.
Blaise sighed, rubbing at his temple again. All he could do now was hope that he had heard, and that he'd somehow be able to find someone that he couldn't see. It was actually kind of ironic that the one time he actually wanted to be around someone, he couldn't even see them. But for all of that, he found that he didn't actually mind.
At least I know the only place he can be is outside. All the tables in here already have people sitting at them, so it shouldn't be too hard to find him, he thought, taking the tray when Mr. Fortescue handed it to him.
He walked outside, and spotted Rapunzel as soon as he did, talking to, of all things, a large Eagle-Owl perched on the back of his chair.
"-thank you for coming to see me. I hope you have a safe flight!" He caught the tail end of what Rapunzel was saying, the owl hooting at him and flying off as he got closer to the table.
"Was that your owl? Or was he just delivering a package?" Blaise asked, setting the sampler set in front of him, and the weird salmon ice cream for his cat down where it was sunning itself in the third chair.
"He isn't mine," Rapunzel told him, happily picking up the small metal spoon shaped like an ice cream cone, "I freed him from a cage yesterday, and he was just stopping by to say hi, and thank you, I think."
Blaise paused, spoon halfway to his mouth, looking up to watch the quickly fading brown speck, and then back at Rapunzel. He almost said something, before he shrugged, accepting it as he continued to eat. Considering how he had reacted to the werewolf signs yesterday, it actually wasn't too surprising to hear that.
"So, do you like it?"
"I do! I understand why Du-, um, people like it so much. I really like this one," he said, pointing to the small glass cup that held a pale brown ice cream with golden syrup drizzled on it. It was nearly finished, along with the strawberry and chocolate, the mint chocolate chip, banana, and cherry sitting nearly untouched.
"That's the treacle tart one. Fortescue's makes good ice cream, but it doesn't hold a candle to the gelato from Il Massimo del Gelato in Milan. When I still lived in Italy, I would try to get some at least once a month." Just thinking about it almost made the ice cream in his mouth taste like water. Not being able to have it as often as he wanted was one of the main things he missed about living in Italy.
"What's gelato? And can you speak Italian?"
"I can, and gelato is like a better kind of ice cream. It's thicker than this and softer, and it just tastes better. You'd have to try it to understand." He explained, tapping his spoon against the sundae cup.
"I can speak Italian too!" Rapunzel told him, in Italian, excitement ramping up and zinging him like lightning, making Blaise, who had already busted out laughing at his horrible, horrible, accent, laugh even harder than he meant to.
"What happened? Did I say it wrong?"
"No, you, ha, the words aren't wrong, it's how you said them. I'm sorry, but your accent, if you can even call it that, is, just really bad. Where did you learn?" he caught his breath, grin falling away at how subdued Rapunzel now was, guilt starting to creep in.
"I learned from a book. Is it really that bad? I've never talked to anyone in Italian before..." Rapunzel said, looking thoughtful as he finished the treacle tart ice cream and moved on to the chocolate.
Blaise watched him, concentrating hard until he was able to more or less only feel Rapunzel's emotions, relaxing when he couldn't pick up any anger or sadness. The last thing he wanted to do was make him feel bad because of something he couldn't help.
"Well, that explains it. You can't just learn another language from a book, you have to be able to talk to someone too, so that you learn how the words sound. I grew up speaking English and Italian, so it's different for those, but when my mother made me learn French, I had her and a tutor help teach me."
"Oh, that makes sense, but I lived in a tower, remember? So I didn't have anyone but books to teach me." He explained, straight-faced, though Blaise could feel his amusement, popping like little bubbles, revealing a hidden laugh. Rapunzel leaned forward suddenly, like something had just occurred to him, asking, "If I talk to someone in Italian, can I fix it?"
"You should be able to," Blaise told him, eyebrow raised, catching on to what he was trying to say, which made his next words come as no surprise.
"Then can you only talk to me in Italian? And French?"
"I can, but just talking to me today won't really help. I'm going away to school in September, unfortunately, so even if we met up every day next month, I doubt it would do much. I mean, I could owl you, but that wouldn't actually help either..." he pushed the empty sundae cup to the side, thinking.
He would gladly do anything if it meant not being forced to go to Hogwarts, but considering why his mother was making him go, he very much doubted that she would accept 'staying home to help a friend learn how to speak properly' as a reason why he shouldn't go, especially when 1, she knew he didn't have any friends, and 2, she also knew, very well, that he would never voluntarily help another person unless it was on pain of death, and even then, ehh, he might just die.
"Well, a little of something is better than a lot of nothing, so even if it helps a little, that'll make it better than it is now. Are you going to Hogwarts? Because-"
"Hello darling, I was just thinking about where you might- oh, Hello, who's this?" His mother asked, appearing out of nowhere, like she knew that he was thinking about her(and he didn't put it past her, given that she knew occlumency and legilimency, the former of which he barely had a grasp on, while he completely failed at the latter), eyes on Rapunzel.
Blaise rolled his eyes skyward, thinking, not for the first time, that some god must have it out for him, the way that things he didn't want to happen always managed to, anyway. They were probably laughing at him, right now.
He hoped they choked.
"Hi." Rapunzel blinked, looking from her to him, "Are you-?"
"This is Rapunzel," Blaise cut him off. Maybe if he stopped him from speaking, he'd disappear, and she'd somehow forget he was even there to begin with. From the way she was smiling though, he knew it was already a lost cause.
She really had the worst timing.
"Really. What an interesting name. Tell me, Rapunzel, Rapunzel, for whom will you let down your hair?"
Rapunzel's eyes lit up, and he smiled wide, happier than he had felt him be today and yesterday combined, "Only for a Knight, whose heart is pure, and feels no fear."
Blaise frowned at the exchange. What was going on?
"Well, aren't you just the sweetest little thing. And your hair does do the name justice," his mother's shields were down, and he could directly feel how absolutely delighted she was from the hand she had combing through his hair. Which was unusual to say the least, since, on a scale of everyone else and him, she was closer to him in how she felt about people in general. She just hid it better.
He had some idea of how she would react to him having a friend, and even of how she would probably react to meeting Rapunzel, but this was a bit more than he expected. It was... almost like she already knew him. Was it not just him who felt that way?
"You should have told me your friend was why you wanted to come back here today, darling, I would have given you some extra money to have fun with." She kissed his cheek, the sweet smell of Jasmine filling his nose, and handed him a small silk pouch, "here, and don't worry about leaving now. Just let me know when you're ready to go. It was very nice to meet you, Rapunzel."
"It was really nice to meet you too," he said, eyes not leaving hers, watching her as she waved goodbye and walked away.
"Was that your mom? The two of you really looked alike."
"It was. Are you ready to go? I was thinking we could go to the bookstore."
The small reading area in the bookstore was thankfully empty when they got there after leaving the ice cream parlor. As soon as they got there, Rapunzel didn't waste any time, leaving only to come back with an armful of books.
They surrounded him now where he lay on his stomach next to the couch, laying on the cushions Blaise had passed him. He kicked his feet back and forth in the air, entirely focused as he read Fantastic Beasts, Whisper curled up, already asleep, in the middle of his back.
Blaise fixed his own book so that it more fully covered his eyes as he laid back on the couch, letting his leg hang off the side, foot touched Rapunzel's knee, zoning in on his emotions until they blocked out everything else.
Exploring Diagon was fun, but he preferred this, even if he was left with the odd experience of mirroring Rapunzel, making him feel intensely excited and curious about the darkness behind his closed eyelids.
Which was still better than the pure chaos of the alternative.
"Hogwarts..." Rapunzel whispered to himself, the sound of pages being turned falling silent.
"Hmm?"
"Blaise, are there any magical schools besides Hogwarts?" Rapunzel asked. Blaise shifted the book from his eyes and saw that he was looking at him, book opened to the page about centaurs.
"I wish there were, and believe me, I've looked. Are you going to Hogwarts too?"
"Yeah, but not to stay," he said, shifting Whisper off his back as he sat up, "I'm just going to stay for the first year, that's why I'm asking. Why don't you want to go? And are there really no other schools?"
"Why would I? Just thinking about being surrounded by so many people, every day, is enough to give me a headache. And, I mean there are other schools, about 9 major ones all over the world, including Hogwarts, but none that you can go to if you don't live where they accept students, or get a letter from them. So your only option is to get tutored at home, which I would be more than happy to do, if my mother wasn't making me go." He didn't bother sitting up himself, instead choosing to cover his eyes back up.
"Really? That's it? If I don't go to Hogwarts, the only other thing I can do is learn at home?" Rapunzel asked, incredulous.
Blaise shrugged. "I mean, sometimes people do set up smaller schools, but with that, even if you manage to find one that isn't overcrowded to the point that they have to turn you away, you only learn as much as the people teaching you know, and most of the time it's just regular witches and wizards, not actual teachers who are teaching."
"That doesn't make any sense."
"What can I say? That's the magical world for you."
He heard rustling and a faint meow, and he shifted the book again to see that Rapunzel was gone.
"Why not do both?" Rapunzel asked, grinning, appearing again over by the bookcases leading away from the reading area, "I'll just have to figure out where some of those other schools are, and get tutors after I leave. I'll be right back. Have you bought your school supplies yet?"
"No, I've been putting it off for as long as possible," he reached into his pocket, fishing around for another chocolate frog.
"Do you want to go get everything after we're done here?"
"I guess."
Blaise listened to his footsteps retreat until he couldn't hear them anymore, grunting when Whisper chose that moment to jump on him, landing on his stomach. They stared at each other, and for a brief moment, he thought about just pushing him off, before he sighed, leaving him where he was, using one finger to pet down his back.
As much as he still didn't want to go, maybe things wouldn't be so bad if he had Rapunzel with him.
.
.
.
Well, at least until he left.