Author's Note: Hey so, Author Notes stop here, just like usual.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Previously: If only he knew how long that would last, he would have reveled in her kindness for as long as he could.
Parseltongue
"talking"
'thinking'
Letters/articles/books/etc.
Now, onto the story!
Malakai grew up in the orphanage as well as one would when constantly ridiculed and mocked. The nun who had taken him in that night disappeared five years later and was replaced by another. This one, Sister Maria, was cold and unkind in the face of the children yet warm and loving in front of the adults. Her words were harsh and her ruler painful. The chores were all done by the children. 'To cultivate a strong work ethic,' she said but the young boy didn't believe her. He still remembered his true mother, as monstrous as she was, and wondered what he had done to be ditched at this place.
His voice never came back since that night, his vocal cords had been cut by his mother's shaky hands. Sister Maria would usually keep him away from the others. 'No one wants a mute,' she said. He wondered if that was true but time and time again, when people came to the orphanage, he was never chosen. The children with pretty blond hair or kind eyes or the ones that could speak all got chosen but not him. Not him with his strange black and white hair and sharp, calculating gaze. Over time, the rejection didn't hurt as bad, not nearly as badly as Sister Maria's punishment stick. The bruises would turn an ugly shade of purple that wouldn't go away for days.
When not doing chores or cleaning up after the other children, Malakai took time to sit in the gardens outside and read. It was the only place that looked well kept. He could see where the donation money went. It was all a facade. Just like Sister Maria. The parents would get lured in by the lush gardens and Sister Maria's kind expression but the children would suffer from her strict hand and cold beds.
Nine years had passed since he had been dumped at the orphanage and the young boy had grown thin, his body lithe and small. His black hair was a mess of waves around his face and down his back with two thick white stripes framing his face, he could never get it to sit right so he let it go. His sharp blue eyes sat in a pretty face, high cheekbones, and a feminine jawline with a cute nose, a cupid's bow shaped his pouty lips. Some parents mistook him for a girl before Sister Maria corrected them but she would mock him behind closed doors for his features. He couldn't change that so, he let it go. Better to let things go than let his resentment build.
He was a voracious reader. What he couldn't understand, he would find the book that held the answers. It was the only thing he found solace in and he felt remorse at the lack of books in the orphanage. He read between chores and meals, stockpiling books in his room until they were spilling over in tall towers. He was smarter than other children at his age and he only had his books to blame. He carried a small notepad, one that he had snuck out of Sister Maria's office along with a few pens, and if he ever needed to communicate, he would use the paper and pen to speak for him.
The pretty young child sat on a bench outside in the gardens, flipping through a book he had read over a dozen times. Tales of witches and monsters, princesses and moral codes. Part of him wished he could escape into the book, make it swallow him whole until nothing was left, but he feared that if he wished too hard, it would come true. Many odd things happened around him when he was overcome with emotions.
One time, when Sister Maria was hitting him with the stick of punishment, the pain was so unbearable that he wished it was softer and on the next hit, the stick had turned into a balloon. Another was when he had been doing his chores and some children ran by, knocking over his mop bucket and ruining the floors. He had been so upset at the idea of Sister Maria punishing him over it that he cried into his hands but when he looked up, the muddy water had vanished and the floors sparkled like diamonds.
He knew he had a power that no one else did so, he hid it. He couldn't tell anyone about it anyway, he didn't have the words. He was already freakish enough, he didn't need this added onto it.
As he flipped through the pages of his worn-out, old book, a dark shadow settled over him and made him look up. Sharp blue eyes met black and he jumped a little at the intimidating figure. He was tall but walked with a slight slouch and had greasy black hair that was slicked back on his head, hateful beady eyes stared down at the child. His unhealthy, sallow skin almost glowed in the sunlight as his scowl deepened. He wore a plain black suit with a black button-up shirt and a deep green tie, his leather shoes a little wet from the freshly watered grass.
The man's voice had a subtle droll to it as he spoke, "Mr. Malakai Venora, I presume?"
All of the orphans took on the last name of the orphanage if they didn't have one and when Malakai had been dropped off, all his mother had given was his first name. The young boy nodded in answer and noted that the man's beady eyes dropped down before looking back at him, widening a little. He knew that the adult had seen the scar across his neck and he didn't try to hide it. It was the easiest way to explain why he couldn't speak.
He pulled out his notepad and pen and scribbled his answer on it before holding it out to the greasy-haired man, :I am. Who's asking?:
The man seemed to pull an envelope from somewhere in his jacket before offering it up to the young boy. Malakai looked at it for a moment before taking it in hand and reading it over.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Venora,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
The second page read,
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
UNIFORM
First-year students will require:
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
4. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.
COURSE BOOKS
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
OTHER EQUIPMENT
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set brass scales
Students may also bring if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS
ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK
Yours sincerely,
Lucinda Thomsonicle
Malakai's deep blue eyes widened at the words written on the paper, his jaw-dropping a bit as the well-dressed man sneered, "I am Professor Snape. I am here to explain our world to you, what it entails, and the school you will be going to now that you have knowledge of your magic. You are a wizard.
A wizard. His eyes widened as all the explainable events seemed to click in his head. He was a wizard. Was that why his mother abandoned him? Did she know?
He reached for his notebook and started scribbling furiously before handing the paper over to Professor Snape who obliged him and took it, reading it over, :If I'm a wizard, then does that mean I get to leave here?:
Snape raised a brow curiously at his question before looking back at the decrepit orphanage, "Unfortunately, Mr. Venora, no. However, you will be escorted to Hogwarts, a teaching institute for young wizards to hone their skills. It shall be your home away from this place for eight months out of the year if that is any solace to you."
Well, that made things a little easier. He breathed a small sigh of relief but a small part of him was still a little suspicious of this professor. He didn't look like a professor. All the professors he had ever seen wore thick-knitted sweaters and jackets with patches on the elbows. He went to scribble something else and Snape couldn't help pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation, there must be a faster way to do this.
:So, as a wizard, can I do the things the witches do in my books? Cast spells, incantations, rituals to revive the dead? Or are there limits to magic?: The young boy of eleven handed his questions over to the professor who had decided that sitting next to the boy on the bench would be better than standing, looking over his small handwriting and smirking a little at his curiosity, "No, there are no rituals to revive the dead. There are limits but most things can be accomplished if you have a well placed mind. Anything can be learned with determination. Now that I have given you your letter to Hogwarts, you shall join your peers and we professors will teach you to control your magic and use it to your benefit. Mainly, we teach spell casting, potion making, and other such subjects which will benefit you greatly in life," Severus droned on with the rehearsed speech that all teachers were made to say, his tone bored, "As for what I do, I am supposed to guide you in your purchasing of materials and explain to your matron where you shall be going."
Malakai couldn't help pouting a little at that and looked down, scratching something out before showing the professor his notepad, :No rituals?:
"No," Professor Snape shook his head, a little surprised by his disappointment.
The older man stood and dusted himself off, drawing Malakai's eye to him as he watched him stand. Was he leaving already? A small frown tugged at the corners of his mouth as he looked back down at his book before Snape cleared his throat, "Come along. We don't have all day. We must go get your things for the start of the semester."
Malakai brightened at his words and got up off the bench, making sure to grab his book and notepad. A wizard. He couldn't contain the smile that spread across his face for the first time in his life as he followed Professor Snape from the orphanage.
The journey from the orphanage to London was longer than he had anticipated. Professor Snape had somehow convinced Sister Maria to let the young boy go with him into the city and he had dressed in his nicest clothes, a plain blue t-shirt and some forest green shorts. Malakai turned a little red when he saw himself next to Professor Snape, he didn't look nice at all by comparison.
The two had reached a pub called the Leaky Cauldron but to Malakai's amazement, no one seemed to notice the building. People walked by it without a glance and he couldn't help thinking it was like it was hidden in plain sight. Quite ingenious if he said so himself, especially since wizards seemed more like the secretive type. He had given Professor Snape a number of scraps of papers with questions on them and the man had explained each one with a tight lip, making the young orphan believe he had annoyed him so, he stopped.
Inside, the pub was loud with chatter and laughter, his blue eyes flitting around the room to take it all in. How interesting. He had never been to a place like this before but quickly pressed himself closer to Professor Snape, not wanting to get left behind as they seemed to seamlessly maneuver around the other pub patrons. They took the back door out and came to a little bricked-in area before Professor Snape took out a thin bit of wood, tapping the bricks in a certain sequence before stepping back.
Malakai's eyes widened in awe as the bricks began to shift and move until an elegant arch appeared, leading into a bustling alleyway. Shops were shoved together tightly on the sides of the street, people coming and going from them. As they passed, Malakai couldn't stop his eyes from darting around to look at the stores; some sold robes, others sold telescopes and strange silver instruments, one's windows were stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes while another had tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment.
Malakai easily kept up with Professor Snape, not wanting to get left behind by the fleet-footed man, and soon the two approached the tallest building in the alley with leaning columns. They walked up a set of brilliant white stairs that led up to a set of burnished bronze doors, a pair of short little creatures in scarlet and gold uniforms on either side of the doorway. Malakai didn't stare, he knew how it felt to be under observation, but he did pause to read the writing on the next set of doors, now made of beautiful silver:
Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.
A small worried look crossed his face as he wondered at the dangers deep under the building, this must have been Gringotts, the wizard's bank that Snape had explained to him on the train. He had asked all sorts of questions about wizards and where they got their money and how it differed to muggle money. He refocused once they passed the silver doors and into the vast marble hall with long counters stretching along the length of the walls, pairs of doors leading off to the vault passageways with around a hundred little creatures sitting near them. He hesitated before reaching for Severus' sleeve, gently tugging on it to get his attention.
Professor Snape sighed but he turned anyway, looking down at Malakai, "Yes?"
The young boy just pointed at the short creatures with an expectant look as the taller man led them to a line before Professor Snape glanced at the creatures, "Goblins. They guard the vaults and are the only magical creatures that wizards trust with money."
A look of understanding crossed Malakai's face as they moved up in line and let go of the professor's sleeve to look around the bank a little more. There was so much to look at but he tried not to stare. Nothing good came from making your attention known to the person you were watching, he knew that from experience.
When Professor Snape stepped up to the counter, Malakai was on his heels and peered up at the goblin who didn't even spare him a glance. Bogrod was written on the little plaque on the counter as Snape cleared his throat, "Hello, Bogrod. I am here to open an account for Mr. Malakai Venora and to move funds from the Hogwarts account for the duration of his schooling."
The goblin nodded and shuffled a few papers around, his voice reminding Malakai of oil covered rocks rolling down a hillside, "Of course. All new accounts must go through the bank manager. One moment, please."
Malakai watched as the small goblin tottered off away from the two and it was only another moment before he came back and gestured sweepingly behind the counter, "Come this way."
Professor Snape looked down at Malakai and he glanced between the professor and Bogrod before ducking behind the counter, the older man following suit and the three made their way to the bank manager's office.