The Druids Apprentice

Chapter 5

The next month was spent converting a medieval castle into a somewhat modern manor house. The first week had the two druids scouring the structure looking for, and hiding, any indications of its true history. From then on came the arduous task of Placing windows, re-tiling floors, placing wood paneling on most of the walls and most importantly, running indoor plumbing. Not that they were doing all the work themselves; in fact the first day they started renovations Forester Manor, house elves began showing up on the doorstep, followed shortly followed by pixies and other magical creatures, all ready to help in the castles restoration.

During this time Harry had also become acquainted with the local country and the Weasleys. There were nine in their family all-together with seven still living at home. Arthur and Molly Weasley obviously loved their children and doted on them all. The eldest two, Bill and Charlie, no longer lived at home, after graduating Hogwarts they had both taken jobs. Bill was working at Gringots and Charlie was in Romania studying Dragons.

Next eldest was Percy, a thin, uptight teen that seemed so wrapped up in school and future career plans that he was neglecting his family. Harry felt almost compelled to remind the boy of their importance, as he'd had no family that cared about him until his grandfather had rescued him when he was five. He held his tongue, however, as he didn't want to go into his own past too deeply with them just yet.

After Percy were the twins, Fred and George. The two boys were confusing and often irritating in that they were nearly indistinguishable, even to their own family, and capitalized on it gleefully. It also turned out that they were quite enamored with Pranks and spent much of their time testing new ones on their youngest brother, Ron.

The youngest Weasley boy was Harry's age and would likely go to school the same year. Taking an instant liking to him they spent quite a lot of time talking about everything from quiddich to what candies they liked the best. It was with Ron that Harry had found out how much he loved flying. He had already flown in the forms of different birds, under the direction of his grandfather, but when he was on one of the Weasley brooms, the feeling of the speed and responsiveness he got exhilarating to say the least. His first time in the air, he had landed after several minutes of wild loops and insane dives to a paper-white Ron. "Mate... You can fly!!! I thought I was going to mess myself when you got so close to the ground that last time..." Harry had just grinned to himself and made plans to get a broom of his own next time he was in Diagon Alley.

Last of all was Ginny, youngest child of the Weasleys. She was painfully shy around Harry but also clever and funny when she could be drawn out. She talked endlessly about Harry Potter and it seemed the young girl had a crush on a boy she'd never seen. Harry found it both amusing and troubling at the same time.

The boy was deciding whether to help the elves with the grounds or to go to the Weasleys one morning when Merrill interrupted his breakfast. "Lucius Malfoy has offered to assist me in finding the proper shops to refurnish the manor... Most likely he wants to sound me out as to whether I would be sympathetic to Riddles cause. We'll be going to Diagon Alley and he'll have Draco along as well. It might be a good time to start putting the seeds of doubt in the boy's head about the lies his father's been telling him." The old man wagged his finger at his grandson, knowing full-well the boys impulsiveness. "Remember, be subtle."

Minutes later, two figures emerged from the fireplace in the leaky cauldron. A distinguished looking older wizard in brown robes stepped gracefully into the room followed by a wild haired boy who tumbled, giggling and smudged from the fireplace. "We have to do that more often grandfather! God, that's fun." The old man merely shook his head with a smile and cast scourgify on both himself and the boy who were instantly clean.

Across the room, Lucius Malfoy and his son turned towards the commotion and started over. "Ah, Mr. Forester," said the blond man, "excellent... you remember my son, Draco?" The boy, on familiar ground now, gave a self-confident smirk as he greeted his saviors from the month before with a slight nod. "We've got to stop at Gringots," Harry's grandfather said, "I've some business to attend to there before anything else. Damon, come along as I know you're dying to go exploring."

In all the time traveling and training with his grandfather he had never been inside the wizarding bank. The entry hall was imposing. Huge and dimly lit, its walls were lined with tall desks, each with a vicious looking goblin busy scribbling away on something or another. They passed all of these and proceeded to an even larger desk taking up a good portion of the far end of the hall. Sitting atop it, his hair just a fringe of forlorn white strands, sat an ancient goblin.

Standing up on its chair to see them all, the diminutive creature asked, "Your business?" Stepping forward Merrill held something in the palm of his hand that only the goblin could see clearly but Harry got the impression of a golden key with a numeral one etched on it. "My name is Merrill Forrester," putting special emphasis on the name," I've come to set up an expense account through my vault." The goblin, to its credit, barely blinked when recognizing the key and its owner, regardless of what he called himself. "This way sir."

Minutes later the old man came back carrying two rings. Slipping one on his own finger he handed the other to Harry. "Wear this, when you need to make a purchase, put the seal set in the ring on the receipt and it will be charged against our vault."

Leading Mr. Malfoy and the two boys outside he instructed Harry to enjoy himself but to meet Them back at the Leaky Cauldron at sundown. Draco, getting similar instructions from his father dragged Harry away from the adults and down the street.

Alone for the first time that day, the blond asked a question that had been nagging him since they'd met up earlier. "Forester, what's with the cane? You didn't have it the other day..." "I only need it sometimes. I hurt my leg when I was younger," the boy said, "the cane helps." Intrigued, Draco pushed him for more information, "What happened then, how did you hurt it?"

Harry shrugged, it's a long story, you wouldn't be interested." Almost mad with curiosity, the boy turned and stopped them both. "We're not going a step further until you tell me how you hurt your leg. Putting on a solemn face the brown haired boy said, "Right then, remember, you asked... My grandfather believes that wizards have become weak because they depend so heavily on magic for everything. Ever since I was a baby we lived around muggles and neither my parents nor my grandfather would do magic unless there was noting else for it." Putting just a hint of a tremor in his voice, as his grandfather had taught him, he dropped his eyes down to his shoes and continued softly.

"When I was four my parents and I were in a car crash, I was thrown from it and ended up with a broken hip, spent a month in a muggle hospital. Now I have a metal pin and a scar to show for it. That's why I carry the cane." Horrified by what he suspected, but unable to stop himself, Draco asked, "Your parents?" Harry paused, then went on with a dead voice. "They were knocked out when the car stopped, there was a fire." Harry didn't continue, simply straightened himself and started walking again, rather briskly, his limp now noticeable.

Both boys walked in silence for a time. It had been an act for Harry, carefully rehearsed by him and his grandfather for an emotional punch but he was more than a little surprised that his act had brought him dangerously close to real tears. He couldn't believe he was crying over his parents, he couldn't even remember them. When he'd acted his part out, however there were flashes and feelings he couldn't begin to understand. Harry promised himself he would ask Merrill first thing when they got back to the manor. He was broken out of his reverie by the blonds excited voice, "Quality Quiddich supplies, lets go in."

The shop had the two boys entranced. Moving from one display to another, Harry received a running monolog from the other boy about each broom, its strengths and weaknesses. As Draco rattled on it suddenly struck the brown haired boy where he'd heard all this before. The blond, gushing over a Cleansweep 6, was doing a remarkable impression of Ron Weasley. Finally relenting and buying the broom that Draco was drooling over the two boys left the shop and continued to wander the street.

Coming upon an apothecary, Harry stopped. "Lets go in." Draco, looking exasperated, asked, "Why? Its just potions ingredients and such. That's boring." Harry found such things fascinating, to imagine that such simple, natural substances had such power locked inside them, "Well I just want a look." The blond sighed in resignation, "Fine then, but we get ice cream next."

They entered the dark, musty shop; the walls were lined with jars and sacks holding all manor of items used in the brewing of potions. As Draco juggled a small, purple-hued skull he'd picked up, Harry was wrinkling his nose over an open jar. "This monkshood is worthless... its all old and dried out." The proprietor, taking note of the boys for the first time, scuttled from the counter where he had been talking with a man wrapped in a black cloak and approached the two. "Here now you kids," he said, "Get on with you now. I won't have you little knee-biters in here speaking ill of my wares..." The cloaked man, Unseen until he spoke, interrupted. "A moment if you please Mr. Trill, I would like to hear what the boy has to say." "But Professor..." the little man began before being cut off by the other. "If the 'little knee-biters,' as you call them, have nothing useful to add then we'll have wasted nothing but time." Turning back to Harry the man nodded, "Continue with what you were saying, Mr...." "Forester, sir." The boy supplied.

The man's dark eyes seemed to bore into his very soul, as if attempting to strip him of all his secrets. Harry shook his head and instinctively erected his mental shields before turning his attention back to the jar. Taking a sprig, he peered at it carefully and held it under his nose. "Like I said before, its' dried out, monkshood needs to be fresh or half of its potency is gone right there." Breathing in the scent again he continued. "This was cut from the plant, probably on a quarter moon. For it to be its best, the it should be harvested either on the new or full moon, depending on what you're using it for." Finally, studying the stem he looked up into the man's eyes. This was cut by a pair of steel snips; Wolfsbane has to be cut with a silver scythe and straight into the jar... the more it's handled the less effective it becomes. This," The boy held the herb out to Mr. Trill, "is a weed."

The hint of a smile crept across the Professor's face. "Is there anything else Mr. Forester?" Shaking his head, he replied, "Yes sir, but that's enough." The man stood motionless, his face inscrutable for several moments. "Yes I believe you're right. Mr. Trill, Hogwarts will be doing business elsewhere for its supplies from now on. Thank you and good day." Giving the little man no time to protest he hustled the two boys from the shop and into the street.

Harry looked to Draco, unsure if he should let this unknown person take charge of them but the sly grin on the other boys face held his tongue for the moment. Looking up at the man, now in the light of day, he took a closer look at him. He wasn't an overly tall or large man, with Black, slightly greasy hair, a largish nose and a definite love of the color black. It was the attitude that this un-assuming figure put forth that made you stop and almost want to step back. The man seemed to exude menace even without consciously trying. Looking back into Harry's eyes, the slight smile from the shop reappeared and he turned to Draco. "He's with you then, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco, grinning madly, replied. "He is. Damon, I'd like to present Professor Severus Snape, Potions master at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. Severus, meet Damon Forester, my friend. Taking the brown haired boys hand, the man said, "Thank you for your little speech in there Forester, That little fool will bend over backwards for months to weasel himself back into my good graces." Professor Snape escorted them to Florean Fortesque's ice cream parlor where bought each boy a cone. He sat with them for a time, listening to them about their day and questioning Harry about his knowledge. "My grandfather is very good with plants and potions, Maybe you'll get to meet him sometime." The dark man nodded, "I think I'd like that, however, for now I must be returning to Hogwarts, The new school year will be starting soon and I must be about preparing my lessons." The potions master rose and wished the boys good day, "I hope to see you both more often. When you attend Hogwarts in two years I hope to see you both in my house." Wishing the two boys good day he left.

The day was getting on so the two boys had begun to wander back towards the Leaky Cauldron when they were both roughly pulled into a side street. Their attackers, Harry counted six of them were older, sixteen or seventeen at a rough guess, dirty and looking quite desperate. The boy let himself go limp, knowing that if they thought he wouldn't fight, that they'd take less care in holding him. Draco, on the other hand, was struggling madly and yelling at the teens. "Stop! You'll be sorry! My father will have your heads!" The boys holding the blond were very large and were quickly losing their patience with the boy.

One of the boys holding Harry roughly grabbed his broom while the other took his cane. "Look Ollie, a cleansweep, fresh from the shop. We'll get twenty galleons for this alone. See what the other brats got." Draco's captor, tiring of the boys struggling, punched him in the stomach and knocking him to the ground. Harry tensed, but bided his time, he would wait for the right moment. The thug searched the blond boy as he lay on the ground moments later he came up with a few coins and a necklace from around the boys neck. Using the distraction created by the boys find, Harry concentrated on his cane and his eyes faded from blue to an emerald green. "Like my cane, do you?" the boy asked softly, "It likes you too... Big kiss." The young man holding the wooden shaft looked at Harry as if he were crazy, the boy had begun hissing like a leaky pipe and he was thinking about clotting the boy with the stick when he was distracted as the wood in his hand suddenly began to writhe and grow. Wincing, he turned not to a shaft of wood, but a writhing King Cobra, hood open in anger and ready to strike.

The girlish scream from the thugs throat created even more confusion as Harry snatched out and grabbed his broom back from the other thug, kicking him solidly in the knee to bring him down to his level then striking him hard enough across the face to knock him out. Mounting his broom he flew headlong into Draco's attackers and bowled them over. "Get on!" The blond boy jumped up behind Harry and nearly fell right back off as the serpent that had been menacing the teens had sprung up and wrapped itself around the other boys arm and shoulders. Everyone accounted for the young druid leaned forward and propelled the broom out into Diagon alley at top speed, much to the loud consternation of the local passersby.

They'd only gone a few hundred yards when Draco yelled in his ear, "Behind us! Two of them!" Risking a glance back the boy saw that two of their attackers from the alley were indeed behind them, riding brooms of their own. "Hold on!" He felt the blond boys hands grip his sides tighter as he began weaving in and out of the signs hanging from the sides of the buildings. Their zig-zag course, moving at break-neck speed soon had them approaching the end of the alley. "Hold on!" with that quick warning to Draco, the boy waited till the last second and pulled up into a tight loop that had them racing back in the opposite direction and past their confused pursuers. The blond boys grip had become crushing around Harry's waist. Shortly their attackers were back on their tail though somewhat farther back. Harry slowed the broom a little bit and began weaving through the signs again. "Why are you slowing down?" screamed Draco. Grinning to himself the boy yelled back, "I'm not done with them yet." Picking up speed, he led his pursuers on a frantic chase leaving behind shouting shoppers in their wake. After one very close call diving under a hanging sign they heard a loud 'Crack' behind them, looking they saw one of the teens tumbling to the ground among the splinters of the ruined placard. Ahead, the leaky Cauldron was growing rapidly and Harry Yelled, "Get ready to jump!" Hoping the other boy wasn't paying attention he cast a quick spell, "diorseoir." causing the door of the establishment to leap open, then close as the broom careened in "Jump!" Both boys leapt from the broom and rolled to a stop in the middle of the tavern, nearly at the feet of their guardians. The broom, having no rider leaned itself up against the wall, waiting for its master. They heard a crashing thump through the door they'd just entered by and both boys broke into laughter. Grinning madly, Harry looked up at his bemused grandfather. "We've got to come back tomorrow."