The chapter where the author thinks- can I drag Harry any more from his comfort zone? *Unbeta'ed
Chapter-7
Summary- Delegation is advisable when you have tiny hands- take note.
t-m-h-r
Harry ignored his sweltering brows as he planted the seeds apart by 2 feet -no need to let them turn cannibals.
It was not hot per se, just dreadfully humid. Even the soft, satin tunic was sandpaper-friendly on his skin.
The Silvan owned land was not vast. There was a bit of space cleared in the front and just around the manor, but the rest of the land had been allowed to grow chase their own tails.
Rebellious and wild were not enough to note the disaster that was the Manor land.
Well, it had been before Harry had scrutinized it and ordered his elves for a cruel massacre of the ferns and bushes. The reanimated elves- inferi-elves(?)- elvish dolls(yes!)- were slow in their task, but Harry had not waited to start the restructure until they were absolutely done.
The animals were shifted to the south corner from their former place- a compromise between acceptable distance from his home and his field.
He did not want to hear their bleats day and night and he did not want them to chew on his laboriously cultivated plants only to drop dead anyway.
The seeds were expensive! And the merry bunching before stone-cold rigor mortis would have him salvage nothing from the foolish animals. Even their meats would have been too poisonous then for the dinner.
And he would lost both the plants and the animals because of a casual oversight. So.
The little land was cleared by his dolls and that was where he was at that moment- some strides away from the house and being cooked inside first from this heat.
Harry shook his head as he pushed another seed delicately. A small indent around it and Harry filled it with the diluted nutrient potion.
"Master!"
Harry grunted back.
"Young Master is having a guest."
His hand jerked a bit and the seed was doused with the potion. But Harry was not looking at it anymore, "What?" He asked in confusion. The heat was getting to him apparently.
Or maybe it was getting to the poor elf.
He should shift the outdoors work to his dolls and let Mippy be in the manor.
"Master is having a guest, young master. Guest is wanting to see master."
"What do you mean, guest?" Harry asked, completely incredulous. "I can't have guests!"
Mippy was wringing her hands. "But.. young master is.."
"Right." The potion doused seed was already starting to swell. Ugh. Of course, it was. "Who is he, did you ask?"
Mippy shook her head, "Mippy is not knowing."
Harry shrugged it off, digging out the stupid thing before roots started coming out of it. "Never mind. Just get rid of him. I don't want to see anyone."
Mippy popped away.
Harry looked back at the last seed and tsked. It was utterly ruined. The potion was to make the soil more fertile, more nutritious for the plants. Since he didn't have a wand and his wandless magic was as obedient as a Kraken poked with a stinging hex, he had had to rely on potions.
Times like these, he wished he was a tad more proficient in Magic other than defensive and offensive alone.
Well, there was nothing to be done for the seed now.
Should he throw it away? Or maybe just keep it… to see what would happen?
He couldn't take it back to the manor… who would know what might happen? The seed might grow to a tree the next time he woke from a nap; he might have an actual tree instead of simple wood for pillars.
He contemplated the idea of a gently swaying plant- with possible carnivorous tendencies in the middle of his house- for ridiculously serious minutes. Perhaps his mind was getting idler than he wanted- if it was leaning from mischievous to downright self-destructive…
"I see I was right in my concern."
Harry jumped at the voice. Was he really so bored that his mind was beginning to have its own personality? Why must it take up such a familiar voice though- that annoyingly familiar voice...
Harry turned around. His mind was taking up the face of that annoying person too.
"Really?" Harry crossed his arms in grumption. It was not the first time either his subconscious mind had thought to pair up with his old professor's face.
Old….
But this person in front of him- looking down with clear blue notice was not old, was he? Not the old headmaster with long, snowy beard tucked into his belt- not the one with age counted in the wrinkle in that wise face.
This person was not the one his mind would conjure- from fatigue or lunacy.
Bewildered Harry wiped the sweat dripping from his eyes.
The man kept staring at him most concernedly.
"Professor Dumbledore."
Albus Dumbledore, the bane of his existence- past and present smiled down at his dumb-founded face.
"How.. why are you here? Wait. You are the guest?!"
He much preferred the thought that his mind had started to melt from the heat.
"I became worried when you did not reply to my letter." The man looked at him with that solemn concern- that what?
That could not be the reason the most powerful man in recent history had sought out a scrawny twelve-year-old orphan in his home. Harry was not obliged to answer for his existence to any crooked noses- genial or otherwise.
His indignation did not stop him from feeling the weight that expectant professors tended to bring out in their wayward students.
"I was going to!" The man looked at him most skeptically and Harry insisted. "I was. The owl is still around here, I think."
Albus Dumbledore continued to look at him with those disappointed blue eyes.
He wilted just slightly.
Well, it was a bit rude toward him.
He could not think how he could have replied to that letter without that rudeness dripping in every syllable, though.
Something was scratching at his palm. The seed had apparently seeded. He rolled it slightly, not giving it a chance to poke in and find his body fluids acceptable manure.
Harry cleared his thought and stood up. "Look, professor. It is very kind of you, but I don't want to go back to Hogwarts. Sorry to disappoint you when you came all this way for me.
"You were there for no more than an hour. Surely you don't find the whole of Hogwarts lacking based on that?"
Harry looked at him in confusion first, at the sentence that seemed to come out of nowhere.
What hour was he…
Oh.
Harry had put that time of mistaken identity out of his mind. It was more of the years that he had…
Harry retraced what he had spoken of last and mentally cursed himself.
This was the second time he had referred to his past life. Another misstep and he might well land himself either in the Mind-healing ward of St. Mungo's or the experiment desk of the unspeakable.
Or maybe he would be obliviated and serve in the loving arms of dementors- rotting away in the Azkaban prison. He would never even know what he did to deserve this fate.
Or whatever really happened to those who played with time.
While Harry was finding his mind back from the linear timeline he had lived and asking his mind to stick to the last six months' knowledge, Albus Dumbledore was scrutinizing him.
Harry was careful in keeping his eyes completely averted.
Not that it would matter any.
Looking at those shades of blue he had become so intimate with- well, his mind blanked out promptly every time their eyes met.
"I understand, after your life of solitude you have become accustomed to it, child. But this life cannot sustain you for long."
Sure it can. He thought stubbornly. It had before and he was not a child.
He was not going to say that to the headmaster though.
Instead, he let annoyance flood his voice, "maybe. Maybe not. But don't you think you are overstepping, headmaster? Entering another wizard's house willy-nilly and what- I will take whatever you say?"
Dumbledore smiled faintly, "But who was I going to speak on your behalf? Your guardian? The ministry perhaps? They are not aware of the lack of your guardians, but surely you can be adopted as their ward."
Harry stilled at the threat coated with cinnamon care, "How would you know? They could be just out… for work."
So did the lies he tried- out to work and failing miserably.
"Fire-call them then. I will apologize for my overture and talk to them of your schooling."
Harry glared at him. Dumbledore smiled at him unrepentantly.
The man was like a leech. Try to pull him off and he would stick even more ' oooh, I see your struggle. Maybe there is an even more delicious secret underneath this. '
Harry opened his mouth … and all his annoyance, confidence, every bristling spine on the young body crumbled promptly.
"Let's… let's go back to the house? I can't take this heat anymore." He said in a slightly higher tone.
Dumbledore looked taken aback at the sudden request but followed him back to the house.
Harry kept his peripherals fixed on his dolls- his reanimated, death magic saturated and obviously dead with peeling skin and flesh dolls- busy with their weeding and not far from them.
-t-m-h-r
The boy was anxious. Albus Dumbledore kept a smile and a sharp eye on him.
The Silvans had been a recent addition under the British Ministry of Magic. After Dorian Silvan had severed his ties with the France based legacy, the small family had taken shelter in the isle. There had not been any close friends to speak of.
Why, before this he had not been aware of a Silvan family! They had to have been very much isolated. From friendly and hostile eyes alike. There was not much to know beyond what he had found from the ministry acquaintances in the past weeks.
Of the family Silvan, he came to know via this child that was sitting in front of him- sickly in appearance- the light shade of eyes and hair making the pale skin look even more helpless.
Yet, there was nothing vulnerable or weak about the stubborn light in the child's eyes. The childish tone did not distract him from the maturity that the Silvan boy displayed.
There had been moments of amusement too- when the boy refused to cower before two stern adults. The boy had not bowed out, had continued to defend himself intelligently, completely in contrast to the pale face that depended on potions to stop trembling.
He had not given the headmaster an inch more than he must.
The boy had wrapped his sarcastic defense around him like a cloak- refusing to let anyone get close to him.
The more Albus had made a forward attempt, the more the child had shuffled back in askance.
He had to wonder, was it the death of his parents that had prompted this sudden acerbity.
He thanked the elf for the tea and crackers.
"You think you will be satisfied with this life? Your elf and you?"
The child shrugged. Stubborn boy.
Well, If gentle words did not reach him...
"You understand, without proper education, you will not be allowed to perform any magic."
The boy stopped tapping his cracker on the plate and looked at him askance.
The boy had seemed so assured all the time, he had not quite expected for him to be stumped in this way.
Or well. Silvan had been assured- had stood looking at him resentfully. Until...
Something had shaken that.
Poorly supported bravado or not, he was just a boy after all. Dumbledore mused, happily munching through his plate of crackers.
He hummed while enjoying his tea. It was rather bland, and he dumped three more lumps of sugar in there.
He ignored the disgusted looks of his young companion. The boy's reluctance had been curious at first- but now… he wondered at the poorly contained anxiety in front of him.
Fear?
The boy had not been afraid of him when they had first met. He had not been afraid mere five minutes ago.
But now, small toes kept knocking the table. The boy was absolutely unaware of how obvious he was.
-t-m-h-r-
Harry kept his mind focused on the redheaded and red-bearded man in front of him- well he hoped he did.
One of his dolls turned to look at him beyond the window and Harry could feel the tug at their bond- expectant for an order, because Master kept thinking of them.
Harry did not whimper out loud, he did let out a yell though.
"MONEY!"
Albus Dumbledore looked a bit startled at his abrupt screech. Harry dove headfirst into the agony that had been his financial situation. He let his thoughts, his every anxiety be suffused with that sole cause.
Leaving no space for any other thought- especially the walking catastrophe-no no-no.
The professor looked bemused at the frantic child in front of him. The boy looked ready to pull at his hair. He kept twisting his forefinger almost violently.
Very much in contrast with the sullen and serious child he had been but a while ago.
Puberty did strange things to different people, he mused.
He did not reach out to gentle the other's flusters- the boy would give into his flight first instinct no doubt.
"We, at Hogwarts, have a provision for providing in these kinds of situations. You need not worry child."
None of the tension vanished from the thin shoulders.
"Right. Right, Tha's good. Uhm... I will give it more thought then."
Dumbledore pursed his lips in faint displeasure.
The man could frown all he wanted, Harry did not give a doxy's arse.
"Surely you could not have any more reservations?"
"Look, Professor Dumbledore. This is not a very good time for me. I need to rest." He hopped down in emphasis. Mippy was looking at him most worriedly, either in confusion because Harry never admitted his weakness- until it dragged him to the floor or fear because Harry never admitted his weakness and hence her master must be in dire state indeed!
You know what?
He dropped the seed in the hot tea before making a half-step from his destination- the soft blanket trailing behind him- and gave a closed-lip smile.
"You are right, professor. I will attend Hogwarts."
Albus Dumbledore looked perplexedly on the eyes that were narrowed at him- void of any sparkle, at the mouth that was grimacing a moment ago but now kept beaming at him.
Harry did not give him time to recover from the personality shock.
"Yes. You managed to convince me! I have been such a fool!" Harry tsked at himself.
What was the man still dawdling around for?
Spoon-fed creatures these people! Drain the subtlety and guide them out by hand!
Or the blinking blue eyes would start a discourse on whys and hows...
So Harry walked up to the wizard, thankfully the height not such a sore when Dumbledore was seated and patted his arm.
Guileless blue- mirroring the crystal white of his mentor- blinked up, "I am thankful that you made such an effort on my behalf, professor. I am sorry I can't keep you for longer." He gave a tremulous smile. "I hope you will forgive me."
He did not wait to hear any "Of course." Or "wait, My boy." But turned to Mippy ."Please guide the professor out and hurry back. I need you."
He did not stay to let Dumbledore see his thankful posture but trotted away from them.
However might he be worried that Mippy might not get rid of him properly, the more he stayed- the more there was the possibility that his dolls would wander in and stare at him-
He sighed at the shuffling sound.
Timely riddance of that pest.
With another sigh, he collapsed on the ground- the adrenaline had drained much of his strength away.
He wanted to pet their heads, but the maggots had not finished their feeding yet.
They stood docile, harmless, and sweet. But was anyone going to accept it as he did?
Was Dumbledore going to pat their bony fingers or feel the pride at being their creator? Harry snorted.
The punishment for necromancy- the darkest of all Magics- was harsher than any other. In a life he had left behind- his friends had whispered to him worriedly- of the trial-less execution.
A necromancer would not even be fed to the dementor's- no, the ministry had feared long ago that the soul-ess monsters (necromancers in this context, not dementors) must have a fail-safe to escape. To rise in another body and continue their life.
His friends had talked about eternal imprisonment- subjected to the dubious mercy of the ministry. Opportunity for the unspeakable to be armed against any other future abominations.
Harry shuddered again at the hissed warnings.
"No one is going to appreciate you guys," Harry said mournfully to his dolls.
They agreed in their silence.
"Master!"
Mippy hopped around him in distress when she saw his master collapsed on the ground and her master joined in her lament at the unfairness of it all.
-t-m-h-r
Mippy had not been happy with his decisions- either of them. She did not want Master Adr-Harry to go away from home. Who would be there to mind his potions and sleep? Who would be there to remind the young master of his meals? Surely without her, Master Harry would be set back his recovery with how carelessly he treated himself. She just knew it.
Harry had been mite peeved at how she had reduced him to a toddler with least self-awareness. Anyhow…
Harry did not say anything about the potions master in Hogwarts or the hospital wing. Well, firstly he had not had much faith in their sincere care, and secondly, it would break the poor elf's heart.
She had been particularly protesting of his decision to leave her behind. She was not fond of new places at all but at least, she could be sure of one reliable care-taker for her young master. No. She did not like this at all.
But Harry needed her in the manor. If no one were to stay back to look after this thing- he did not want to think of the living and non-living parasites that might take refuge there.
He did not want to spend his next break cleaning after the critters and ghouls that might have slunk in there. And it was not like his magic would be of any help in that. He thought to himself in slight disgust.
Most importantly, he needed his elf to stay and look after the plants and herbs that he had left seeded. To reach their full potential, they might need his delicate and attentive care, but to abandon them to the glee of nature… His heart whimpered at the callous waste of both money and the way his future plans would have to be postponed to another year… He shook his head stridently.
He was taking no chance.
The feeding of the farm animals was least prioritized in his mind. He had bought them in a whim so that the sacrifices would be close, should he need them.
He did not want to go chasing after one like he had done it the last time.
Not that Mippy knew that particular purpose of the roosters and goats. And he was not going to enlighten her.
His two successful experiments- ahem.. darling dolls.. would have to be led to sleep. For now.
Harry dearly lamented saying good-bye to the decaying bodies. They had been so very helpful in preparing the land around the manor, leading him to the nooks of the manor that he could not have known about and being very good sentries,
And well, a nice boost to a fallen necromancer's pride.
But he could not accept the risk of their teeter getting loose.
So long as he stayed in the manor, their leash was controlled and seen. Should he leave for Hogwarts that was all the way in Scotland though-
They might do nothing more than a stroll to the nearest village- and this was the most benign possibility. Of course- the consequences were not so benign.
Harry figured the consequences would be nigh unmanageable should they pop in the great hall of Hogwarts in the middle of dinner- because they missed their master. Yes, that was one of the worst possibilities that occurred to him.
It would be so very fun though for the nearby muggle village left to the mercy of rotten corpses…
He could hardly see the fruits of labor anyway. Harry hung his disappointment.
And so he had gently let them dig back to their graves.
And sat there throughout the entire process- mourning already. (His forefinger was empty every time he touched it.)
So, he might be a tad biased for the adorable helpers that were first in this life! He deserved it!
He had stayed for the afternoon, sighing after them, his fingers clutching the craving knife that had finished etching a few more runes on the graves. By the time he returned for the short days of easter (or Christmas, whichever he could get away with), their bodies should be completely decayed, leaving only the dry bones.
There would no splotches of skin and flesh in the corridors and no stench that even the completely besotted necromancer could tolerate.
He did not tell it all to his elf. There would be absolute rebellion.
And the emotional manipulations he had tried on her had not been quite enough.
That was alright- he had had a month to wear off her anxieties.
(And Harry did not want to tell her, but the promise of meals in Hogwarts was a huge factor behind his decision.)
-t-m-h-r
Albus Dumbledore nodded at Tom, the barman of Leaky Cauldron. He had reserved a room upstairs- for a wee while. Now, he waited while cutting into the piping hot omelet.
They could talk here of course- but well, there had been plenty of friends dropping on the empty seat beside him ever since he had sat down.
The boy was likely to look at the crowd, and turn right around.
He smiled a bit, thinking of the sulky face that was often carried. Such a small child with the burden of his health and his family- he wondered when he had started to craft the haughty defense.
The loyalty of Dorian and Mallory Silvan was not known- he had no idea if they had chosen to follow Tom. (Ah, but he chose to go by Voldemort now, didn't he? Cutting off all his roots as if those were not the ones that had made him.)
Adrien Silvan had plenty of the distrust and suspicious personality that might remind him of another.
But for all the defense and barbs of sarcasm- the boy was absolutely naked in his emotions.
He had been whimsical, annoyed, exasperated- the spectrum of emotions lighting up the small face. ( He had been appreciative and happy too- it had been unexpected. It had taken the professor by surprise and he would not admit of his intrigue to that.)
It had been curious. It had been interesting.
And Albus Dumbledore was not a man like any other- weak to his curiosities.
He had been most curious about the dark magic that had clung to the boy though.
So young and yet that instrument had twisted and turned for hours in his office.
"Another cuppa, professor?"
t-m-h-r
A/N-
Don't think too hard about the flora and fauna I might be dumping on your head! They are all scrambled nonsense and have pitiful life in this story. This story is the first one I will be juggling a lot of characters at the same time and for a long time. My head is a busy, dizzy place. I don't want them to bleed into each other. I don't want me to bleed into any of them. Gah. *tizzy dizzy fuzzy
Can I ask my lovely readers to keep an eye out anyway? Just anytime anyone seems to have become a schizophrenic maniac with multiple personality disorder...
Is the upload rate okay? Or would you like more time in between? I understand now that things are getting picked up, some people are having to pull a lot more hours than before..
Now then, you people know the works. Thoughts and comments please! .