Pale in the Shadows
Part II Unfortunate Spell – Chapter 11 A Step and Understanding
About: Just because you seem like a good person, doesn't mean you are. Sometimes the best way to forget is to move on. The best way to understand is to pay attention to details.
Things were not going quite as planned, the old man realized as he drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. He had moved the rocking chair over to the window and was staring out at the sunset in its rosy reds and vibrant oranges. Everything had been carefully laid out for nearly thirty years and already he could start to see his careful work unraveling. It was too late to realize his mistake when the school governors sent him an owl about having found Hagrid in a drunken state and Harry Potter nowhere in sight.
And my luck has him discovered by Misses Malfoy, he thought, pausing. His eyes roamed up in apprehension to the portrait of an old headmaster who was snoring lazily in his frame. All headmasters had to cast a memory of themselves into enchanted paper and remain as watchers and guides for the current headmaster. The particular headmaster he stared at was a now deceased member of the House of Black. He couldn't help but remember the last two members of that house and sighed.
A chirping brought his attention to the phoenix who perched on the limb of his dragon tree. 'Fawks, surely I haven't done this wrong?' he finally asked, but the creature only blinked at him and turned his attention to the window.
Dumbledore would never admit that he was feeling a sense of worry. I will just have to bend some things otherwise everything will be for naught. Certainly Severus's loyalty to me will help keep young Harry on the path he was destined to be on.
He leaned back, closing his eyes, feeling the magick he had weaved around the protective barrier of Hogwarts, and checked to make sure that Harry was indeed in the castle, tucked into Severus's private quarters. A hiss of magick snapped at him as he tried to get closer to the boy causing the man to jerk in surprise. He wasn't sure whose magick it was, but someone was trying to hide the child.
No matter. I will see to Harry soon enough.
Severus numbly toyed with the letter from Petunia staring blankly at his potions cabinet. He had spent a better part of the night weaving and reweaving barrier spells with Narcissa trying to keep Harry's magick under control and in order to hide the obvious power behind it. The boy had caught him by surprise especially being able to sense and deflect his occlumency with subtle ease.
I knew that he would be strong from what Vince had told me, but I hadn't quite anticipated magick that..sings. With a sigh, he sat the letter down and stretched up towards the ceiling. He knew he would have to go and speak with the boy, who had fallen asleep shortly after arriving at Hogwarts. But I'm unsure if I can separate Evans and Potter from their son.
The better part of his morning had been spent going over the childhood he had shared with the Evans sisters and James Potter. The falling out he had had with the sisters had made him nearly forget Petunia and aside from the war, he had hardly any dealings with Lily. And then there's Potter. He almost growled outright remember the golden boy of Gryffindor.
If ever I have hated a teacher's pet, he bitterly thought, rising and heading for his rooms. James Potter had been far from the strong and witty jock he appeared to be. Teachers lavished him because his parents had passed when he was quite young. They had let him get away with the pranks he pulled and destruction he caused with his friends, and when it had come down to his and the oldest Black's expulsion, Dumbledore had failed me.
Harry felt well rested after collapsing in exhaustion on the bed that the professor had prepared for him. At one point during his sleep, he thought he had heard Narcissa and the deep voice of Severus Snape talking, but he couldn't tell if it was real or in his imagination. Lost in thought as he stared up at the ceiling in the early morning light, he was surprised when something banged on the window of the room.
Glancing over, he stared in awe at a snowy owl that looked familiar from the day before. There's no way, he thought, rising and unlatching the window. The white bird flapped over to the bedpost and hooted at him; tucked in her mouth was a cylinder which Harry took from the affectionate creature who in turn nipped at his fingers.
He undid the tube and pulled out a letter, which had been hastily scrawled. He also found a charm bracelet with a strange rune etched on it.
Dear Harry:
I hope you like your present! I'm sure you're surprised, but Mother told me your birthday is next week—I couldn't wait though. You can name her as you wish. The only way to contact me at the mansion is by owl post, so she's just as much for my sake as yours. Mother wants you to write at least once a week about how Professor Snape is treating you and says we'll visit a week before school starts! The owl knows the manor so just tell her where to take any post and she'll fly there. Yesterday was fun! (Except for a certain ginger prat. :C) Hear from you soon, Harry!
-Draco Malfoy
PS Wear the bracelet. It's my REAL present to you. Happy birthday!
Fastening the bracelet to his wrist, Harry couldn't help but smile as he remembered the rest of the day in Diagon Alley. After the fight with the red haired boy, Narcissa, Misses Weasley, and Professor McGonagall had explained to him about the procedure of Hogwarts and how he would go to stay with Severus Snape for the rest of the holiday. Everyone had been sickeningly nice to him as they talked except for Narcissa, who had looked calculating the whole time, and Draco, who afterward grumbled about Weasley being a stupid prig.
After a long day of shopping they had ended the day by going Otte's Owls & Other Fowl and looking at the various kinds of birds from harmless looking owls to fierce cockatrice chicks. Harry had found himself staring longingly at the very bird who had made herself comfortable on the bedpost. He had never seen owls aside from pictures in books and the one that had given him his letter, and the snowy owl before him had given him a feeling of strength and freedom he has never before imagined.
'Thank you,' he muttered, feeling the first honest emotion since his relative's house.
A knock on the door startled him, and he wasn't prepared for the door to simply open, quickly rubbing at his eyes for tears that had started to fall. Before him stood the wizard from the night before in a dark suit that reminded Harry of a church priest. Again he felt a twinge of animosity from the man who glared at him behind bangs, which he pushed back running his long spindly fingers through his dark hair.
'Good morning, Harry Potter.'
Severus noticed that the boy hadn't changed his clothes from the night before and barely glanced at the owl who puffed up her chest feathers and let out a hiss much like a cat would. 'Surely you know where the owlery is? Off with you.' The snowy owl took her time spreading her wings and casting off, almost knocking into the man as she swooped around the room and out the open window.
'Good morning, sir,' Harry said, his eyes on the floor, posture defensive.
'We will see about that,' Severus muttered, closing the door behind him and leaning against the solidness. 'Take a seat, Potter. We have things we should discuss about your being here.'
He watched the boy slump onto the bed, still not looking up as he crossed his arms around himself and stared at the ground. 'Your school things are arranged on that shelf at least until term starts. By that time you will be sorted into a school house and will move there to live with the other students. Now, I don't believe in idleness. Even though term hasn't started you might as well start learning. On the desk over there,' he pointed to the oak counter he had arranged for the boy, 'I have set up some work that I expect you to present to me every night.'
'Yes, sir.'
'I also expect you to follow my requests. If I tell you to clean the bathroom, I expect you to do it. Now, if you leave my suite I expect you to notify me where you will be going, though I suggest you don't wander about because the castle is huge and you will get lost. Do not bother me unless it's something dire such as you accidently chopping off a limp. Food will be brought to you by house elf. Place your laundry and trash into the labeled baskets by your bed. The shower is located just before my rooms. You. Will. Not. Enter. My. Chambers. Understood?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Then get to work, Potter,' Severus snapped, quickly leaving the room and letting the door bang shut behind him. He wanted to kick himself. He shouldn't have let himself get carried away.
While talking to the boy he had found himself looking for the Potter and Evans that he felt surely had to be there. Harry had the same tousled black hair of James Potter and even sported glasses just like father had; however, that's where the similarities ended. He is neither arrogant nor does he have the build of his father. Even the green eyes, despite being similar to Lily's own, were wider and almost chilling. Like staring into a storm.
Severus found himself in his personal chambers, lit by a single lamp and the only window covered with a dark curtain. He collapsed into the sofa with relief, the tension in his body drifting away. Narcissa had been right about the boy, he realized. If anything Harry Potter was how he himself had been as a boy. Malnourished. Untrusting. Obedient to a point.
If I am to train and care for this boy, I am going to have to forgive, Severus realized bitterly as he relaxed into his thoughts, remembering moments and times he wished he could erase. He had dealt with the poison of Potter and Evans for nearly twenty years, something that he was finding hard to forget.
Harry was relieved that night as he finished pouring over the reading and written work that Snape had assigned to him. In a way, it was refreshing that the professor had given him work to do. Work that explains things to me. Magick, potions, wizards, spells—it was all becoming somewhat normal in his mind and the growing pressure he had felt was slowly abating. The only thing he hadn't brought himself was use his wand. He stared at it feeling chill at the memory of visiting the store where he had bought it.
Harry had found himself marveling again at how peculiar Diagon Alley was. The sun was already high in the sky; however, some people were still wearing heavy cloaks that billowed out as they walked. There were folk in simple jeans and shirts, and others in leathers and fur. Narcissa led them to a side street that went uphill, which with little effort the three climbed until they reached a small shop called, "Ollivander's".
Narcissa held the door open as they stepped in and Harry nearly jumped as his skin tingled. His eyes grew wide as some part of him realized that entire shop was soaked in magick, which practically sang to his very depth.
'Welcome, Narcissa Black Malfoy. Draco Black Malfoy,' came a rich bass from behind a counter. Harry found himself staring at a chalk white man with glowing gold eyes, his pockmarked face drawn into a predatory grin. 'And Harry Evans Potter. The song has begun and already soldiers have come to your side, young lord.'
The boy shivered as the man spoke. Something about the shop and the being before him made him want to run away, just as much as the deep hum of magick made him want to stay.
'You speak in riddles well, wand maker,' Narcissa cut in, waking Harry from his stupor. 'As usual your twisted tongue plunges into waters better untraveled at the moment.'
Bowing his head in mockery, the wand maker muttered, 'Forgive me, cousin. I merely see what you do.'
Draco leaned close to Harry and muttered, 'He's not really a cousin. Usually purebloods refer to each other as 'cousins' especially if they're of the same alliance—a dark wizard or a light wizard.'
Wanting to ask more, Harry couldn't because the wand maker had stepped around the counter, holding out a hand for him to shake. Hesitantly he took the hand, and was intoxicated with the magic that was sunk into the man. He stared up wide-eyed, startled at the magicks he felt.
'Ollivander, Mister Potter,' the shock-white man nearly purred, as his eyes crinkled into a grin. 'Yes. Your wand has been waiting your hand for these past few years. It told me you would come for it, unknowing and not yet seeing. It didn't tell me the promise you are. You will do great things, Little Potter, as you uncoil and roar into this world so too shall you slay and save it.'
Harry jerked his hand free, but it throbbed with warmth from the creature he had just encounter. I don't know how I know it, but whatever Ollivander is, he isn't human. He glanced over to Draco but he had wandered over to glance over wands on display; Narcissa, though, was watching both the wand maker and Harry like a hawk, calculating yet protective. A man with golden eyes who knows your name with a glance is a man I want little to do with, he thought shivering.
'Sir?' the boy's voice was so hesitant Severus barely heard it.
Somehow he had convinced both himself and the boy that they should try to at least have dinner together in the living area, a small table set up by the fireplace where they at roasted chicken, green leaf salad, and a sauté. 'Yes, Potter? What is it?' He raised an eyebrow waiting for some silly question regarding the workload or a complaint at the lack of sweets.
'Why do wizards use wands?'
He stopped chewing his food and stared. 'Excuse me?'
Potter made eye contact with him and Severus was taken aback. There was an intelligence and insightfulness there he had missed. Again the man was reminded he wasn't dealing with a mere boy, nor was he dealing with the boy's parents. It was unsettling to realize that he, a grown man and expert in the mind had somehow fallen into an uncomfortable pattern of surprise and underestimation in regards to Harry Potter.
'Well, I haven't used a wand, but somehow I have used magick. I read that because of my age they're called accidentals and that many children from non-wizard families have a hard time understanding what exactly magick is; however, I-I've been willing using it.'
'Potter.' The boy cringed as though he were going to be struck. 'Keep what you have said to yourself. Light wizards do not practice wandless magick and in this day and age to use wandless magick volitionally is damning yourself to the stigma of being a dark wizard. You are hardly wrong in what you are doing or what you are asking.'
He could teach the boy. The realization was warming and nearly erased the bitterness he still had towards the child's parents. Harry Potter was moldable just like all of the children Severus had taught. And I will teach this child who is already world weary. As they made their way through their dinner, Severus proceeded to explain the history behind wizards and their wands.