Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. Harry Potter, most characters and the magical world as depicted belong to J. K. Rowling.
Chapter 10:
Maybe as some compensation for his disappointment, Hermione and Ginny gave Harry permission to apparate again, and he could make some visits, although he still had strict orders that he was not be away for more than two hours at the most. He was not to overtire himself. And he was still forbidden to resume his spell-breaking work.
He was a long time preparing in the bathroom, as he rubbed the temporary grey dye into his black hair, concealed the forehead scar with make-up, and carefully applied the long and straggly beard. He used a pair of glasses with colourless frames, and donned an old brown robe. He picked up his cane, and was ready to face Diagon Alley. Ginny gave a peal of laughter at his appearance, and his own eyes were sparkling with merriment. He looked about eighty, and when, on her suggestion, he bent his back, and took shorter steps, he could have passed for ninety.
Harry Potter wandered the fascinating shops of Diagon Alley for a while, even braving Fred and George's Joke shop to see whether he would be recognised. George was absent at the time, but when Fred failed to recognise him, Harry felt totally safe. This was a better disguise than 'Bellamy' ever was! A bit of a shame that it was mostly due to his own ill health, of course, but there's always a silver lining...
He wandered into the bookshop, and noticed that his fame appeared to have died, there were few books about him, but he noticed a new one there, and purchased it. He liked to know what people were saying about him, just in case.
Alvin Blotts took no notice of him, as he paid for the book, but staggered him as he was about to leave by asking, "Would you like it delivered, Mr. Potter?"
Harry turned back to him, his mouth open in surprise. No-one else was in the shop, and he protested, "Alvin, I'm supposed to be in disguise."
Alvin was pleased at catching him out, and explained, "My daughter saw you a couple of months ago at Hogwarts. She said that you now had long hair and looked very thin, so I was a bit prepared. I wasn't sure, though, if that's a help!"
Harry laughed. It wasn't life or death. If a stunner caught him now, he might even survive, although he preferred not to find out. As suggested, he arranged to have the book delivered. He always preferred to have his hands free.
Harry was taking note of what Ginny had said, two hours at the most, and anyway, he was getting tired. But how could he go to Diagon Alley and not visit Florean Fortescues Ice-Cream Parlour? He had never outgrown his liking for ice-cream. He ordered his chocolate nut double ice-cream, and sat in the sunshine, back to the wall, enjoying it. No aurors had appeared, which was a good indication that the Ministry had not been informed that he was out.
Draco Malfoy strolled by, noticed him there, and without hesitation, joined him at the table, and said, but quietly, "Hello, Harry."
Harry laughed. "I thought I had such a good disguise, but you're the second one. How did you guess?"
Malfoy pointed out that only Harry Potter would disguise himself as an old man, and then sit out in public and have an ice-cream just like a kid!
There was actually a little more to it than that. When they were in the same year at school, Malfoy used to spend a lot of time aware of, and hating Potter. And no surface disguise would stop him knowing instantly who he was now.
Malfoy was tempted to rib Harry about his not fulfilling expectations by dying, but he was suddenly struck by pity. Harry was his own age, and yet looked so old, and it was not just the grey hair. So he merely gossiped for a bit about mutual acquaintances, and congratulated him on his invitation to join the Wizemgamot, which was not public knowledge, but Draco always seemed to know these things.
Harry thought he'd best be leaving. He didn't want Ginny to forbid him to go out again, so he took his leave, slipped out of sight, and silently disapparated, reappearing in the house, not too tired, and within his time limit. He was feeling happier, too. It may have been his own home, but he had begun to feel confined within its borders lately.
He visited his secretary when he got home, although Ginny usually managed anything to do with money or correspondence. He'd started to wonder about money. He hadn't worked now for nearly a year, and the expenses of his home and staff were heavy. His question to Margaret was still casual, "Have I still got enough money?"
Margaret assured him that he had, adding the information that she had organised some further sales of various of his inventions, although he should treat some more of his backscratchers soon, stocks had run short world wide, and she'd been getting complaints from the distributors. It seemed that thousands were stocked up in the factory waiting for him.
It was not a big problem for the factory. Harry's backscratcher was only one of dozens of items they manufactured. While he was sure that he was healthy enough to do the job quite easily, he wanted to keep his new disguise for a while. He enjoyed the novelty of being out in public, and yet anonymous. He asked Margaret to let the factory know that he would be a few weeks yet, and thanked her for her services to him. She really was a help. Between Margaret Brown, and Bill Forrester, the farm manager, Harry seldom had to intervene in the affairs of his estate.
Now that he was allowed out, Harry was feeling a lot more contented. While he still played with his horses the desperate restlessness was gone. Hermione continued to check him every couple of weeks, but he never asked about her readings, and she didn't offer him the information. His progress was still very slow, and he remained extremely thin, but he thought he was getting stronger, and no-one contradicted him.
Adam left for Hogwarts for the first time at the beginning of September, and Julia commenced her fourth year. Adam was Sorted into Ravenclaw, and Harry thought that the Sorting Hat really did know its business.
He made a few more visits in disguise, including a trip to see a Quidditch game. But that was a mistake. He became far too wrapped up in the game, entirely forgot to be cautious, and was finally nudged by a young man behind him, who said, "Excuse me, Mr. Potter, but you're not acting much like an old man!"
Harry recognised a former student, laughed and said, "You're quite right. I think I'd best go home and be good." But he had been out for twice the time Ginny allowed him, arrived home thoroughly worn out, and was in trouble with Ginny.
The following day, he was feeling lethargic, and suddenly became tired of the facial hair that may have disguised the cheek scar, but was really very ugly. He ran his hands over his face, his attempted beard vanished, and his whole family was relieved.
It took a couple of days to recover from his trip to watch Quidditch. Harry may have been irked sometimes by the restrictions placed on him by Ginny and Hermione, but he knew within himself that they were often better judges of his capabilities than he was himself.
Now that he had given up his disguise, he went and did the magic that meant a few thousand more of his backscratchers went on the market, and promised to make regular trips from then on. No-one rebuked him, his appearance was too obvious an indicator of a severe illness.
He raised the subject of his spell-breaking work with Hermione again, pointing out that it was very seldom the slightest bit difficult. The problem here was keeping it limited to just a few patients each time, but Hermione was adamant that he did not do too much. She knew that while most of his patients were effortless for him, on occasion he struck one that he had to work at. There had even been a very few that had defeated him entirely, although Harry kept a record of those - he always hoped to find a way.
Years ago, he had combed the libraries of Hogwarts and of the Ministry, trying to find any works on breaking these types of spells. But either nobody had ever done it, or nobody had ever written about it. He found no help.
It was over a year since Harry had done any of this spell-breaking work, and Hermione's secretary had a long list of clients needing the service. But Hermione said that she could only book in five patients that Wednesday, and Harry was not to be allowed to do a session more than once a week unless he became a great deal stronger.
Harry was happy to turn up at Hermione's that Wednesday. They had stuck to the same time as he had always used, and he enjoyed the feeling that he was getting back to normal. He greeted Bedwin a bit ruefully, though, saying that he had hoped that the Ministry might have decided to stop spying on him after all this time.
Bedwin, looking slightly shamefaced, said "Afraid not, Harry, and anyway, I'm as much a bodyguard as anything else."
Harry shrugged, and turned back to Hermione, who gave him the usual brief history of her first patient, before calling him in. Harry worked his magic, waving his wand, and repeating the words, which he mostly did because the patients seemed to appreciate some ceremony when he broke the spells that had plagued them.
The same routine followed for the next four, the only difficulty, as always, was shaking off the grateful patients afterward. The last one was an middle-aged lady who had been thoroughly cursed by her sister-in-law, and by the time she had hugged him several times, raved about his powers, and moaned about his illness and haggard looks, Harry was very tempted to re-curse the woman!
When he finally got rid of her, he turned to Bedwin, and suggested that from now on, he make himself of some use, and defend him against such a person. Bedwin was amused, but next time when Harry was afflicted by too much gratitude, he did in fact, intervene, and put a stop to it. Harry finally got some use out of the observers whom he regarded as such an imposition.
In the past, Harry had rarely been seen without one of his children with him. But although he was perfectly confident that he could apparate himself as he chose, the moment he thought of taking a child as a passenger, he suddenly perceived all the dangers of apparating when not fully fit. He had used to enjoy having a child with him, and it gave each of his children some special time with him, too, which is very important to a child. But now that was not possible, and he was generally alone unless he could persuade Ginny to come, which usually meant that the baby came too.
Ginny may have been happy to visit her parents with Harry, also Fred and George, and Bill and his wife, she refused to consider going along to see Harry's uncle and aunt, or his cousin Dudley. Harry really only went to see his uncle and aunt because they were getting old. They never appreciated these visits, they had never liked Harry, and this time Harry decided that he was being a fool. His uncle and aunt were not worth wasting any more time on. But Dudley was his cousin, and he regarded Dudley's children as nephews and nieces, especially the little redhead, Gemme.
Harry's appearance had been a shock to Dudley. His strange cousin was the same age as himself, and yet here he was, except for his overly long black hair, looking quite old. It made Dudley, himself, think that he, too, must be getting old.
Dudley and Harry had never had much in common, often making up for lack of conversation by a session in Dudley's gym. Dudley didn't even suggest it this time. Instead they talked about Dudley's children, and while Dudley raved about the various qualities of Mark and Simon, he was suspiciously quiet about Gemme, now seven.
Harry finally asked about her directly. Dudley, looking a little sad and distinctly worried, admitted that strange things happened about Gemme, and he related a couple of inexplicable incidents.
Harry said softly, "Do you want to know whether she's a witch?" Dudley admitted that maybe it would be as well to know.
Dudley could not find Gemme around the house, and finally asked Celia, who was working in her studio, where she was. But Celia only said that she was probably with her friends. But as she spoke, a mob of shrieking girls burst through the doors and ran out the other side into the backyard, where Harry and Dudley had been sitting. Bemused, the men followed them out.
Five girls were racing round and round the back yard, in some sort of chasing game. Gemme was apparently a leader, because when she spotted Harry, and stopped her run, the others did, too. Gemme stared at Harry, and finally asked, showing a scant regard for courtesy, "Who are you?"
Harry had to answer that he was her Uncle Harry. Poor Harry was getting a bit tired of comments on his changed appearance, and the novelty of being unrecognised had begun to pall weeks before.
Gemme continued to regard him solemnly, saying suddenly, "Your hair is awfully long."
Harry agreed, saying that he'd have it cut as soon as he got around to it. The other girls were staring at him in fascination also, and he finally said, "You know, I've got something I want to try with some girls like you."
He picked up the little kitbag he usually carried with him, especially when he was in muggle areas, and rummaged inside it, conjuring five little dolls. He didn't want any scenes with any of these children wanting to keep his wand.
"I have a little present for anyone who can make this light work. But the light is mine, of course, and no-one can have it. All you have to do is to say the word, 'Lumos,' and he demonstrated, as he had done with Rachel's children some years before.
He handed it to a little girl at random. The round faced child said the word, and to Harry's astonishment, the wand immediately lit up.
"Wow, that's one," he said, and the wand was handed on. The next three girls failed, but Gemme waited, allowing her friends to have their turn. Gemme somehow looked as if she knew what was coming. She took her turn last, concentrated, and took two goes before the wand flickered. She tried again and again before she managed to keep a good steady light.
"Well done," said Harry again, making little of it, and delving in his bag for the little dolls to hand to the girls.
Gemme gave back his wand with discernible reluctance, staring at him as if he had secrets of vast import to divulge, and, for her, he had. The girls were still gathered around him. They seemed to feel he was a person of vast interest, but Harry was particularly interested in the little witch with the round face. So he asked their names. The little girl was called Catherine Longbottom, and he said, "I might know your father. Is he called Neville?"
She agreed that he was called Neville.
"I went to school with your father. Do you live nearby? I'd like to see him again."
So Harry took his leave from Dudley, leaving any further discussion about Gemme for a later date. Dudley, of course, knew what his trick with the wand meant.
Neville and his wife Bess, to Harry's relief, knew him immediately, and were very happy to see him again. This pair had the tact not to comment on his changed appearance, for which he was grateful. He was beginning to be self-conscious now that he was going about again, the comments on his thinness were becoming so predictable, and he hated the pity that he saw. It hadn't mattered when only his family and close friends had seen him, they were accustomed to it, and never mentioned it these days.
Harry didn't stay long with Neville; he was getting to the end of the two hour limit Ginny still insisted on, so took his leave, disapparating the moment he was out of sight.
He went back for a longer visit to see Neville a week or so later, renewing his acquaintance with their daughter Catherine, and getting to know Neville's wife, Bess, a little better. Bess seemed even more vague and forgetful than Neville, going off to make coffee, and being discovered twenty minutes later working in the garden.
Harry naughtily wondered if her forgetfulness was part of the reason for their large family, as Catherine already had six brothers and sisters, and Bess appeared to be pregnant again. Maybe she routinely forgot to work the anti-conception spell. Or maybe they just liked having a large family. Neville, like himself, had lost his parents to Voldemort, and appeared to have few other relatives. Even the grandmother who had raised him was now dead. And Neville appeared very proud of every one of his large family. Bess and Neville obviously had a good understanding, content together. There appeared to be a nanny, luckily, who looked after the younger children, as Bess didn't seem capable of keeping her mind long enough on reality to do much of a job.
Harry reminded Neville about his cousin Dudley, and told him that he lived nearby, and that their daughter was a witch. Neville knew of Dudley - at school Harry used to talk about him sometimes. But for some reason, he never connected the family of Catherine's friend Gemme, who was often around the house, with that Dudley that Harry used to talk about.
Harry had been thinking that Neville would be a help when it came time for Gemme to know about the wizarding world, but it seemed that this was only a temporary home for Neville's family. Their own home had burned down when Neville forgot she was cooking, according to Bess, and when Bess forgot that she was cooking, according to Neville.
Harry casually mentioned that Catherine seemed very talented, and Bess forgot her abstraction for a moment, to say proudly that all her children were very talented. And the two oldest ones were both in Gryffindor.
Neville forgot his tact then, and asked Harry when he would be teaching again, but was sorry when a shadow crossed his face, and he said that he didn't know.
Reminded of his restrictions, Harry rose to leave.
"I have my own nursery, now," said Neville proudly, "Would you like to see?"
Harry agreed that he would be very interested, but could not do it today. The young nanny was nearby, carrying a baby. Harry recognised a student of just a couple of years before, but she took no notice of him.
After he left, Neville asked Bess if she thought that he had really wanted to see the nursery, that maybe he was just making excuses. The nanny put in then, "That old man you're talking about? He was looking very tired, didn't you see? He's probably gone home to bed!"
Harry hadn't forgotten Gemme. He spoke to Ginny about her, another spirited little redhead, just the same age as their own girls. They'd be going to Hogwarts together. And with his usual concern for muggle-borns, he spoke of giving little Gemme a chance to get to know their girls, and maybe in couple of years, see a little of the wizarding world before it was time for her to join it.
Ginny was immediately curious, and readily agreed to come herself, and to bring one of the twins when next Harry visited Dudley's family.
Out of habit, and for security reasons, Harry hardly ever gave people any warning that he was about to visit. Luckily he was usually such good value, and popular enough that he was almost always welcome, with the exception only of his uncle and aunt. But this time he wanted to make sure that Gemme would be available, so used the dusty telephone to ring ahead the following weekend.
Dudley had never told Celia that Harry was a wizard, but now, of course, with evidence that their daughter was a witch, things had changed. Harry was rather disconcerted when Celia appeared suddenly so nervous of him, she'd known him a long time, and she looked at Ginny with a great deal of suspicion, too. Ginny had brought Victoria with her, after consulting the children's roster to see whose turn it was for the treat.
Victoria and Gemme soon broke the ice. At first they just stared at each other, then went outside. But just five minutes later, screams broke out, Gemme and Vicky were rolling over and over in the mud fighting as hard as they could. The various parents pulled them apart, and the mud stained girls were asked to account for themselves.
"She called me a witch!"
"She said Daddy was an old man!"
"She said my Dad was too fat!"
"She said magic is only stupid tricks!"
Ginny and Celia took their daughters and cleaned them both up. The two redheads glared at each other, as their clothes were brushed reasonably clean.
Ginny whispered to Celia, "Do you mind if I just use a little magic to get the mud out - I didn't bring a change of clothes for her."
Celia was suddenly just another over-worked mother, and said, "Please."
So Ginny produced her wand, muttered her spell, and Victoria's dress was clean and dry, a tear magically mended.
Celia shrugged, "Well, why not? How about you do Gemme as well?"
So Gemme, now silenced, was clean and dry again, and two well behaved little girls presented themselves for inspection to their respective fathers.
Gemme was staring at Victoria, and now asked, "Do you want to see my Barbie Dolls?" The mothers looked at each other, and Celia shrugged and nodded, and the girls were not seen again for some time.
Harry said, "Well, I was not going to suggest that you tell her anything for a year or two yet, but it seems Vicky may have jumped the gun!"
He was right. Upstairs, Victoria was telling Gemme all about a different world than she knew. Gemme knew not to talk about magic to muggles, but she had heard her parents say that Gemme was a witch, and had not realised that the restriction should have applied here too.
As the secret was out, Harry suggested that Gemme start visiting them now and then, and get to know a little of his world before the Hogwarts letter arrived. Celia and Dudley agreed. Dudley knew that there was no way that magic could be squashed out of Gemme, as he'd witnessed his parents ill treating Harry when Harry had been small. And that had certainly not worked. And anyway, this was Gemme, his daughter, whom he loved. Gemme would be helped, not hindered, as she grew to be a witch.
***chapter end***