Chapter- 8
Summary- A man and a child go shopping. Guess who is which?
Harry huffed a bit while clutching his Hogwarts letter. And put a finger on one side of the nose to exhale the rest of the ash clogging his nostril.
It fell right on the shoe of another person who came trotting out the floo.
Harry got a nasty glare and that man got an unsympathetic shrug.
Dramatic snobs really.
Harry turned his head away to look around, biting his cheek in minor consternation.
He got jarred on his shoulder when another person came via the floo and landed almost on top of him.
"Ah, sorry!" but the lady had already trotted off with a sniff at him.
He better move away from the floo gate, hm?
Harry searched the pub again, but there was no flash of silver-red that would guide him to his future professor.
He looked through the pub without particular attention at anybody.
After all, he didn't want any particular attention on him either.
The chatter was grating. The forced company even more so.
Why, he grumbled to himself again, why should the headmaster care now?
The boy that had been the eleven-year-old Tom Riddle had a pouch of coins and Hogwarts list shoved at him and sent on his merry way. Tom was an orphan- knowing nary a thing of the Magical World. And eleven!
Why was a twent-twelve…almost thirteen-year pureblood needed his hand held? He was not going to be a hazard in the completely Magical district!
Harry straightened out the crumpled envelope of the Hogwarts letter carefully.
"What do you need, lad?"
Harry grimaced when a man near him belched and fixed their ruddy eyes on him.
"I am just waiting for someone, sir."
The man hollered (Harry promptly winced) ," Tom!"
On second thoughts, it was well that the man had taken an interest in him.
Because the headmaster was not waiting in the pub. He wasn't late either.
He had been waiting in a room upstairs. Tom had promptly shoved him inside- promising to return with a piping hot lemon pie.
Harry would never admit exhaling in relief from being away from that curious crowd- that smell of breath and food combined, chatter that was less of hum and more of a screech on his tired person.
He almost wanted to thank the headmaster for being somehow considerate.
"I hope you did not mind the extra stairs, my dear boy! I could not stay when I saw the minister's owl headed my way! I do hope it did not see me. I am fairly optimistic!"
Harry sighed again.
"You could always give me an excuse. I am sure the minister wouldn't mind." The minister would froth- that a child's Diagon alley visit was more important than him.
Albus Dumbledore looked down at the sullen child.
He said nothing to the other of the familiarity the boy took up with him.
But slotted away that fraction of puzzle in his mind.
A slice of lemon pie and tap of the wand just to the right brick( three up and two across) and...
"Welcome to Diagon Alley."
(Mind you, it was the tap that led to the alley and not the pie. There had been one or two who had tried that- though they were pretty gone on the firewhiskey too).
The surprise was lost upon Harry, even the surprise that had been of very familiar place years far into the past. After all, he had already been here- after he had apparated with the help of Mippy, desperate to understand the mess he had found himself in. Many pureblood children must have been to the Diagon Alley before their Hogwarts letter- or so Harry hoped.
His inability to act was a reason to despair.
At any rate- if Dumbledore was expecting him to crane his head and watch the hub-bub with bug-eyed wonder and ignore the rush of witches and wizards crushing his tiny body away with their girth- he would let the man wallow in disappointment.
Who asked him to be his guide anyway!
"Albus! Curious I see you here!"
It was the start of a very long day.
-x-
Despite his hesitation, Dumbledore was unexpectedly helpful in shopping for his Hogwarts supplies. They had gone straight to Madam Malkins', the headmaster found himself very interested in a display of oddest Wizarding hats Harry had ever seen even on the eccentric man.
"What do you think of this, my boy?"
It was purple with cauldrons floating down the brim. "It will be fantastic on a potions master." He suggested very seriously
Dumbledore nodded at the sage advice and Harry turned away from the giggles that threatened him when he thought of Snape with the purple hat.
But Severus Snape was not the potions master at Hogwarts. In the other time, he had been dead for years. But then so had been Dumbledore.
Harry shut himself against the flood of memories that suffocated him, confused his present with the past.
His head was starting to throb.
"Are you alright?" Harry looked at the kind brown eyes of the assistant that was pinning his clothes and smiled before politely refusing the offer of a wide-brimmed blue Wizarding hat.
The headmaster had controlled himself acutely in the Flourish and Botts' bookstore. He pointed out the shelves of alchemy and advanced charms, asked the shop-keep if there were any new magazines to be published but they were not there for more than half an hour.
Well, if truth be told the professor was more enthusiastic about their shopping than the new Hogwarts student was.
By himself, he would have found it annoying, but the older man by his side kept his attention diverted.
"It is well and good for everything you need. But for advanced courses, you might want to try Penn. There is quite some time for that now."
"Gold cauldron is best for the brews that have a tendency to err.. explode. Best not to go for that, hmm."
"You do not want a second-hand trunk, my boy! Why there was one student whose charms failed and he had to be rescued from the mounds of books he had stored in there!"
"Personally, I prefer cats. Now if only they could grow wings…"
"Of course, owls are perfectly fine too. Dogs – Mrs. Norris would be in a quite ditzy. Flich would be insufferable for the entire time. But it is alright!"
"Ohh no. Mrs. Norris is the cat- not Flich! Well- thank you nonetheless- for making my year a bit more peaceful."
What did make the day not so enjoyable were
"Professor Dumbledore- an absolute honor!"
"Blessed be my heart, I never imagined-
"Gloria, have you seen who is around our-
"Professor is far too kind- why in my days-
"A Hogwarts student? Oh-
"We are delighted! Oh, absolutel-
"Please stay awhile, Professor! Rolf would be-
"My dear Sir, this is not at all-
He did not quite remember Dumbledore being quite so revered in his time. Respected, feared, and sometimes loathed as well- but
Then again, he did not think he ever saw the man out in a public place either.
He remembered the wonder at the faces of those who met the great Albus Dumbledore and the shops that welcomed them warmly.
"Ollivander is the best when it comes to wands. Why I remember when I had my first wand. Come to think of it, I don't think I have ever seen the man as young."
Harry mostly had drifted out of the oddly verbose headmaster. He did not know why the man did not seem dissuaded by his taciturn behaviour.
Maybe the exhaustion of the day was getting to him- because the headache had spread to his skull now.
And the idiotic chatter. Wouldn't. Stop.
For a moment or two- Harry happily imagined setting the beard on fire.
But that would just invite more wails and shrieks, wouldn't it?
"Ah, here we are."
Ollivander's was as old and..creepy as he remembered. The windows outside were covered by stray advertisements- and the wandmaker had not bothered taking them off. Scant light reached inside the shop- lit only by dull blue lights.
The dark shelves had intimidated one eleven year old once upon a time.
The thirteen-year-old boy instead frowned at the gentle hums and strange sighs he could almost feel vibrate in the air.
"What do we have here?"
Harry cursed himself for jumping, again, and Ollivander for taking his amusement out of young children,
"A rather late entrant into Hogwarts. His parents had not accepted the admission letter. However, it seems that young Silvan does not have a choice anymore if he wishes to continue his education."
Large, soulful eyes turned to him, dripping sympathy, "My condolences, young heir."
Blue eyes averted themselves from penetrating gaze, "I thank you, Mr. Ollivander."
"Now then, give me your dominant hand, Mr. Silvan."
Harry gingerly raised his right, noting with some curiosity that the measuring tape had not made an appearance.
Harry was curious. His Magic was boiling and freezing inside of him. It was as untrained as it could be for a thirteen-year-old wizard- ordinary wizard (he was sure Dumbledore and Riddle had their magic as obedient as a unicorn on the first try.)
His body was too fragile to take on the strain of wandless magic- not to mention the added assimilation it accepted after the ritual.
His magic had become a stranger to him.
Ah- how he had mourned.
He was not particularly eager to accept this strange body- but he was curious, what kind of wand would favour Adrien- or rather Hadrien Silvan now. (it was not the magic that had once belonged to young Adrien either.)
After all, it was the wand that chooses the wizard, was it not?
"Hmm, how curious." Ollivander blinked at him again, before disappearing within the selves. Harry almost rolled his eyes, the man had a set of lines he spoke, it seemed.
Honestly, it did not at all seem any different than his first visit to Ollivander's.
"Try this one."
Harry gingerly took it.
The light coloured wand exploded in his hand when the small fingers had only grazed it and- and – what
What was this
What
why
..was happening
-Harry sank to his knees, dazed and shivering.
sandpaper scratches against his veins
Clogging his mouth and nose
Harry heaved.
Stomach coiling and his organs screaming.
-ngh-
Too tight skin.
It wanted to get out
-en! Are you alright?"
Out
out
hah.
Ahhaha
So this is how it feels when magic rejects you.
Hah!
Harry giggled a bit hysterically.
"Hadrien!"
"Ow! -hy?" Harry abruptly regained his senses.
The man who had slapped him for no reason was not looking guilty at all- but concerned.
"Calm yourself down, my boy."
Ah. He was on the verge of a breakdown.
"Oh. 'm fine."His eyes fleeted away- betraying the forced serenity in his voice-"din- didn't 'xpect.. hah."
"You are not fine."
No, he wasn't. But, everyone else was outsiders-
no one could know the truth of it.
A hand squeezed his shoulder.
And that is when he realized he was in the headmaster's lap.
!
The headmaster didn't look amused at all, "I have you now, Hadrien."
Harry couldn't rebuff the support even if he was embarrassed.
The old hands held him up well; dark spots were dominant beneath in his eyelids and he gritted his teeth so as not to sink to the floor in a dead faint.
"It is as I suspected." The words were coming from too deep an abyss and even as Harry unconsciously clutched at the orange sleeves of his headmaster, he could not stop his knees from trembling. "Your magic is far too unstable. It is a wonder that it has not burned itself and you from inside. Nonetheless, I am afraid, you cannot use a wand."
No. Wait.
He was drifting in and out still- mind and soul trembling alike- but he held on stubbornly.
Harry couldn't accept it like that.
"It is my body- tha's weak." He dribbled out pathetically- pushing through the lethargic muscles. He glared up at the faded man. He knew his body was too fragile as of yet. He knew his magic was rebellious at best.
This could not be happening.
"The wand is suppos' to be a guide!" He bit out.
Ollivander stopped from where he had already retreated back to the counter- ready to dismiss one not of his domain anymore. But he turned with a sparkle of interest to the boy- the strange boy-who spoke far beyond the knowledge of its peers.
"Yes indeed." So very few gave their wands the respect it deserved. So very few understood what a wand was meant for. He was pleased. "But your magic is not settled, not like one your age should have by now. A toddler might direct their magic better than you. A wand is not meant as a cane to the blind."
Harry understood what he meant.
"I am not blind to magic. I am not a squib." He sneered at Ollivander.
Dumbledore spasmed a bit behind him. He was left ignored by the two who were glaring at each other.
"No, indeed not." The wandmaker inclined his head. "Nonetheless, unless your magic has settled down, this one can do nothing for you."
Harry gritted his teeth, but he had a final question to ask.
"My magic though- it is not actually rejecting me?"
Because, weak body? He could enhance it via potions and training.
Overwhelming magic- he could drain the residues via rituals and runes.
Magic rejection?
There was nothing to be done.
Ollivander stopped from where he was putting away the wand to its box, "No. There is no rejection."
But his brows were furrowed in thought.
-x-
Harry had not rejected Dumbledore's gentle nudge into the ice cream parlor.
At this moment, they were sitting in the outdoors ( mint flavoured for the older man and triple chocolate layered for Harry.
"You knew about what Ollivander was talking about, didn't you? You were ah...upset, but hardly surprised."
Harry hid a small shiver, even engulfed as he was in his cloak, and answered in a whisper, "I suspected, yes. But I had hoped maybe, a wand would guide my magic better."
Dumbledore waited for him to speak more than in terms of vague Ollivander terms- but well Harry was struggling to understand it himself.
Oh, he knew the causes and the effects- but what it all ultimately meant-he was stranded still at that point.
"I have certainly never heard of such things happening." Dumbledore hummed.
Both of them took a bit of the frozen treat, one thoughtful and the other downtrodden.
"Does this mean I can't attend Hogwarts anymore?"
Albus tapped his spoon against his glass thoughtfully. "We are a primarily a magical institution, yes. Have you heard of some courses offered to the ah..magically impaired?"
Harry knew precisely what was being asked and he leaped from the chair, gathering his wilting strength.
"Did I not say it already? I am not a squib, professor! I have magic, Granted, it is not... I can not use it without knocking myself out, But I am not any less of a wizard! It is fine if Hogwarts won't have me, but you will not look at me with the pitying eyes... stop it!" Harry shrieked.
"Of course, my boy. Please sit down. People are staring." Wide-eyed in his vulnerability, Harry looked around to see, indeed they were. A small sound escaped him and Harry slumped into the chair.
Moments passed before the silence was broken and in the aftermath of his rant, Harry pushed around the still-frozen ice cream in his bowl, his appetite lost.
Even Mr. Ollivander could not say anything much about it. There is no knowing when the magic flowing in his core would be his again.
"There are some courses in Hogwarts that wouldn't need the active participation of the wand. Potions, arithmancy, ancient runes, astronomy, divination, History, and Care of Magical Creatures. They will accept your inner magic. Of course, you have to attend the transfiguration, charms, and defence against dark arts. I am afraid, they are compulsory subjects up to owl years."
Harry was watching stupefied at the nonchalant headmaster who had taken out a parchment and started scribbling on it.
"We have to inform all the professors concerned, make sure that they don't demand a practical demonstration from you. Horace will be helpful. I am sure if a little disappointed.
A small hand wrapped around the wrinkled one, the gesture bold and imbued with old memories.
"Professor, thank you."
"No need to thank me, my boy. Hogwarts would not turn away one who needs it
It was as he was leaving him, that the guilt nudged Hadrien.
"I have nothing against squibs, professor. Just so you know." He said awkwardly.
They took a while more- discussing his options and potential repercussions.
Seeing as how his magic was volatile, Harry couldn't take part in the practical lessons- they couldn't be sure that the magic wouldn't adversely interact with another.
There were some safe areas where he didn't need to use his magic explicitly- such as divination, care of magical creatures, astronomy, and history of magic and arithmancy.
They pondered on it-
"Ollivander spoke of your body being too weak." The professor started.
"I am fine!" Was his automatic response. "It is a past issue." Harry stroked the spoon with his thumb and peered at the professor under his lashes. The professor remained silent. His hand moved back to smoothen the wrinkles on his robes, "Anyway, my elf is taking care of it."
The professor replied after taking a pause, "I will have Madam Pomfrey have a look at you." The old man's face was more wrinkled than his robes.
Harry snorted and looked away.
"I am not weak."
The professor patted his hand, "Of course not."
It felt distinctly patronizing.
-x-
The day after the wand debacle, Harry left the manor. Mippy fussed about him- but Harry dismissed her concern.
His hands were trembling- his entire body felt as if being walked over by a colony of ants.
He needed to-
Needed-
But his Lord had denied him entry to his realm for the moment.
With a growl, he had snatched up a travelling cloak and hadn't bothered changing to better attire.
He walked around mindlessly, watched the creatures he was rearing, watched the plants he cultivated nourishing.
He needed-
The Aztec scriptures were left abandoned on the desk- open at the prose that called upon the deity of death. Of course, it held no true power, not unless he willed it so (But the prose was beautiful in essence. He remembered the first time he had read it, overwhelmed and overcome.
The first time he had perused it-embarrassment had kept him from doing more than going back. It had taken some time before he had let his words soar and reach his magic.
Clarity came to all in different forms. It was to him as Death was- faithful and absolute.
And now, he could only remember those times. He could only read the beautiful scriptures and let them be lay cold in his mouth.
He could meditate still-
-if he took care to keep the words empty and divorced from his magic. He could not let them intertwine with each other- flowing through his body so beloved.
So he could- and he must keep calm and he must not let his magic rise. He must not feel it in his veins.
Simply empty words-
He wandered through- the silence slowly bearing down on him- and the thoughts became louder in his head.
Instead of letting Mippy apparate him or floo to the Diagon Alley- he decided to take a cab to central London.
He roamed in central London for a while. The streets were not so thronged with human clamour. He kept his outer coat folded in his arms- the warm weather sticking to his skin.
His eyes passed over the streets and the signs. A bakery there. A coffee shop over on that side. A building rising high and the formally dressed people rushing within.
A street that would open up to a row of houses.
Harry observed apathetically at the muggle world.
Everything was so mundane. Their excitement over mundane things, the rigidity, and discipline that ruled their lives.
Their motors drove slow and steady on the roads- meekly down par the drivers' intentions.
The books lay limp and frozen on the shelves.
The windows only let the aroma of fresh bread being baked.
Everyone was so very neat and tidy- hats sitting in proper places, limbs shuffling in a proper manner.
They looked at the strange child who was standing on the road and observing them- and looked away.
As was proper.
Shells of flesh and bones.
So very mundane,
Even the muffin he was holding onto. Harry stared at it in slight disgust.
What was he doing here?
He handed over five pence to the woman behind the counter. She had a stiff lip to his forced smile. Mayhaps she saw his less than appreciative reaction to her precious creation.
If the muggle world was pathetic. The Diagon alley was suffocating.
Every brush of skin and clothes made his overworked nerves screech.
Every delighted scream of children-
Every chatter was so close to his ears-
Harry strode promptly to the left and entered the notorious Knockturn Alley.
Numbly he walked on- uncaring eyes taking on the leering faces that pooped out from the corners, a particularly rancid smell coming out of a shop, the furtive trading among a group with a guy pushing in something with squirming inside a bag.
The sun was on the decline. A shadow fell to his left.
"Have you not had enough of this place, boy?"
The rank odour and the hoarse tone told him of his companion without him having to confirm it.
Today though, Harry did not care for chatter- nothing that would burden his already laden thoughts.
"Have you not had enough of my company?" He muttered back.
"I will not have your folk come asking after me when you reappear in bits and pieces."
"I will leave behind the proof of your innocence in my diary."
"Much gratitude to your kindness, young master." The older man replied in the same snarky tone.
Harry flicked his blue eyes but for a moment to the other person. He was perhaps a bit more dishevelled and coated with grime and dirt than he remembered the last time.
"Where is your bedroll? Have you left your corner to snuggle with the gutter?"
"Am I being offensive to the little princess' senses?"
Harry nodded.
Scabier scoffed and moved away- far enough for the distance to keep an eye, but not enough to distort the boy's delicate senses.
The boy was blunt- not caring should he sting one's pride- typical of the privileged as they stomp their way through life in that passive cruel ways.
The tense shoulders had relaxed as he had moved away, Scabier had scoffed to himself (and he had surreptitiously taken a sniff at himself- it was not as horrid as the boy made it out to be. Really.)
Scabier kept on musing on his decision to keep the boy in his sight- he had no particular wish to keep getting reminded of his status in society thank you very much.
The older man had come to the conclusion that he was kinder than he had thought- and that was not a very nice thing either. Not when the boy- the subject of his kindness- kept looking down him with the snotty nose in the air and the rest of the alley sneered at him, called him a pureblood's drooling pet...
Scabier did not feel like being kind today- but his legs had dragged him up and away when he had seen the boy scroll down the alley thoughtlessly.
Yes, he was kinder than he knew- and he deeply resented that.
The boy was a stiffer than usual today though. He did not seem to have come here with an actual reason either! He gave that thought a couple of moments before he decided there was no need to turn his kindness to meddling. And another stomp of a snub.
That brought him back to the mind- why was he still following the boy?
Did he really like being stomped on so much?
His ears reddened and Scabier firmly thumped his own head. Griselda- that stupid hag was putting strange ideas in his mind.
Scabier hissed out at the boy, pulling away from the shadows that had been hiding him, "You do not want to take that turn, boy."
The boy in question looked back at him with glazed eyes, before looking back to the street they had both came.
Apparently, they had been both a little lost in their thoughts to mind where their steps were taking them. They had taken a turn and now they were near tail-end to one of the branches of the Knockturn alley. Not the belly of the monster really- but isolated and well- not very safe.
Not for the delicate, prissy princess at least.
"Really?" The boy asked sceptically, looking in front of him.
And well, maybe that which was in front of them did not look particularly dangerous. It proudly said "Fang's den" hanging from the wooden board. One wild mongoose was twined around it, hiding the 'd' behind the bushy tail. They could hear faint laughter and voices from inside already. But the windows were boarded up- not letting them peer inside.
That did not stop the smell of roasted meat from wafting out.
It might seem more inviting to go inside the warmth than stay anymore near where there was a stench of vomit and dirty rags lying around.
Scabier curled his lips in disgust.
"I am hungry." It occurred to the boy. That stupid- stupid boy. Scabier wanted to hold to that thin shoulder and shake them rather violently.
But the boy looked so fragile- he did not want that petite head to accidentally fall off.
"I will take you back to the leaky cauldron," Scabier assured him.
The boy was not listening to him, but was staring at that place in fascination, "I never saw it before."
"Two visits did not make you the king, brat." Scabier gritted out, his fingers were itching already.
Maybe he could thump him instead?
Real gentle like- no holes anywhere on the boy.
He did not resist that particular impulse, when the boy took another step forward, "No."
The boy didn't even wince- but looked at him with annoyance, looking nothing more than a petulant and spoiled brat.
The boy did not even rub his head.
Well then. The boy could take a shake or two.
"You are not going in there. Do you know what they would do to little boy wizards like you? Chew you up and spat you out. Are you listening to me, you stupid annoying .."
The boy was pointing to the shadows of the shop. Scabier turned with a snarl.
"So that is the brat and his mutt I have been hearing about, eh?"
Harry said nothing in favour of taking in the other's ripped appearance and the disgusting habit of licking his lips obscenely.
His companion had frozen- from anger or fear- what Harry couldn't know.
The man tsked when neither answered him -hence he gave another murky smile.
"But the young master wanted to come inside, didn't he?"
Harry nodded. "I am hungry." He said simply.
The other's dark eyes brightened, "And who are we to keep you from being sated. Do come inside, young lord."
-x-
author's note-
Happy.. whichever holiday you lot are enjoying at your communities! Even winter is something I can wish to the northern hemisphere..
Anyway- the pace and the style of chapter will be different from here on out. We will have multiple people- multiple personalities. In the marauder era, not many people are known - I don't have a set base-line for people and I have had to establish multiple OC's. Am I nervous as heck? Yup. This is a gamble- this story- and let's us all hope this works out.
I am trying to direct the story in one way and it meanders in another- makes me go all QAQ. Well.. we'll find out how it goes out eventually, eh?
Comment what you like about the story and also what you don't! I love every reader's opinions! Thank you to my lovely supporters and diligent readers. Even when I sometimes get discouraged- it is you words that make me strive forward! Love to all my sweet ones! See you next chapter.