This chapter's suggestion: Magical Relations by evansentranced. This is an AU story describing Harry's experiences if Dudley had also been a wizard.
-Since I'm all caught up on my own reading, does anyone have a well-written story suggestion for me to check out?
Update 1/1/19 – Mostly only small changes to the layout in this chapter.
On the Wrong Side of Sanity
Chapter 15: The Noble House Mystery
A lie can travel half way around the world while the truth is still putting on its shoes.
-Charles Spurgeon
When I arrived in Salem, I was somewhat happy to note that I was already surrounded by other magicals, meaning that it likely wouldn't be as difficult to find the magical section of the city as it was in Tokyo. Therefore, I was delighted when I actually stepped out of the reception area to find that I was already in the magical section. I could tell by a few darkened store windows through which I could see the outlines of cauldrons and other various apothecary necessities. A sigh of relief left me almost involuntarily at the knowledge that I wouldn't have to figure out how to get here.
Once again, I had arrived when it was dark. It was hard to tell whether it was late night or early morning and I was completely unfamiliar with the time differences. There was no moon out, and so only the surprisingly bright light of the stars and the lamps lit around the road provided any light. The night was chill, and I couldn't be more grateful for my new coat. I was glad that I had taken the time to find one before leaving Japan.
I watched as the other magicals that had arrived at around the same time as me dispersed, quickly making their way to various houses in order to get out of the cold. Some apparated away instead, but all left me behind, staring out at the world around me. I'd really have to learn how to do it myself sometime.
It was a slightly less than pleasant three hours that I had to wait before any of the shops even began to open up. I spent the time mostly strolling around the area, occasionally stopping at benches to sit down and survey my surroundings. The buildings were all dark and had an old feel to them. Many shops were similar to those in Diagon Alley with their large windows allowing passersby to see what each place sold. However, the magical part of Salem felt larger and less cramped than its British counterpart. The stores here did not all flow from one into the other without break like they did in Diagon Alley. Instead, there was space in between most stores. Sometimes it was simply a small and dark alley, but others had entire courtyards in between, including nice benches and sometimes well-tended winter-blooming flowers and bushes. There were some less-than-savory people, sometimes wizards, witches, or even Hags, going about their likely illegal activities, but they left me pretty much alone. It was, all in all, rather nice.
As the light of the sun finally began creeping in and dispersing the gloom of the night, so the streets and surrounding shops began showing signs of life. It was a relief for the night to finally be over so that I could stop having to try so hard to keep my eyes from sliding closed against my will purely from boredom.
A groan of my own stomach prompted me to go in search of a place to finally eat. I found one place that opened rather early selling coffee and sweetbreads. I happily ordered and sat down for a small breakfast. The pastry was exceedingly sweet, and I could only imagine the sugar-high that someone could get from eating like this. Still, it was all very good, and I couldn't be happier that galleons were accepted here. I knew that I'd likely have to stop by another bank to exchange my remaining yen into the local currency. It took a moment to remember that they used dollars here instead of pounds. A sip of the coffee that I had ordered nearly caused me to spit it out over the table, but I was thankfully able to stop myself. I poured in an excess amount of both cream and sugar before trying another sip. It still caused me to grimace, and so I set the beverage down again. It just wasn't my cup of tea.
…
A pop of displaced air sounded right next to me, making me jump in surprise. A glance around showed nothing…until I looked down.
Standing by my feet with a pathetically hopeful look on its wrinkled face and rough, dirty cloth covering its body was a House Elf.
"Master has come! Does Master need something of Dippy?"
I looked at the old creature in confusion. "I'm not…I don't…Who are you?"
"Dippy, Master. Head House Elf of Elm House." Then, the House Elf's ears drooped. "Only House Elf of Elm House." I felt bad for the poor thing, but I had no idea why it had been so excited to see me. I certainly didn't own any property over here. The poor creature was probably suffering from memory issues.
"Dippy," I started, "I'm not from here. I don't own any property here at all, so I can't be your master." Not that I'd want to be, anyway. House Elves just don't think the same way as wizards. I had learned that from Dobby. The last thing that I needed was some other strange House Elf trying to keep me safe. I had a moment to wonder where Dobby was now with a small shudder.
"Oh, no, Master! Blacks own many properties! Ancient and Noble Houses are owning many places!" he exclaimed.
"I'm not a Black!" I responded, feeling exasperated. I had come here to get away from the insanity that was my life. How come it followed me everywhere?
The elf finally stopped bouncing in excitement and looked at me in obvious confusion from my response.
"Of course you is a Black. The magic calls. House elves answer."
Well, all that time ago, I had been able to command Kreacher, hadn't I? And it was quite against his will, too. But I wasn't born a Black. How could I have gotten everything? How was it that magic itself claimed that I was a Black, at least according to the House Elf. It was possible that the old thing was wrong, at least partly.
"Is Elm House nearby?" I asked in curiosity, finally becoming interested in a house that I may or may not own. An entire house, and one outside of Britain, to boot.
"Of course!" exclaimed the House Elf. "Is Dippy taking Master to Elm House?"
"Yes, please," I responded, still uncomfortable with being called 'Master', but already having an understanding about how difficult it was to make a House Elf stop using the title.
…
The house that I came to look upon honestly deserved more than the name given to it. The idea that came with the word invoked thoughts of quaint, homey, well-lived spaces meant for families. What I saw looked more like an old museum; clean, but cold. The outside was something like you might expect with trimmed bushes, an abundance of trees, and the occasional flower trying to block one's view of the darkened wood siding. It almost seemed like the house was trying to hide itself among the nature surrounding it. Once inside, though, you could once more imagine the house belonging to the Blacks.
The entrance area stretched up to the roof, making the house seem larger than it truly was. A dark staircase led up to an interior balcony, from which two closed doors could be seen. Just ahead was what had to be a small formal dining room done, unsurprisingly, in darker tones. A small yet still impressive chandelier hung low over a table with six straight-backed and uncomfortable looking seats. This certainly was no Burrow, as it lacked the warm, worn-in feel. Still, I was impressed, as well as grateful not to see any mounted elf heads. Perhaps that was only a tradition in the main residence.
I looked at the House Elf standing near me who was looking up at me hopefully, obviously looking for my approval. I smiled at him as I wondered just how many houses one family could own and if all Ancient and Noble Families had so many properties.
As I sedately gazed around at the large house, I allowed my mind to wander. Looking at all of the various rooms in the building made me wish that I could have escaped to a place like this much, much sooner. It would have been wonderful to have such an option so many years ago. Suddenly, I stopped while staring into a kitchen area.
There was something that I had just thought of, and I almost desperately needed the answer to.
"Is Potter an Ancient and Noble House?" I asked with a tinge of steel in my voice. It wasn't anger at the elf that I had to hold back. He hadn't done anything to me; he didn't even really know me.
No, there was someone else that I would be…upset with if I had a legacy that had been withheld from me.
"No, Master. The Potter House is only a Noble House," Dippy answered, obviously delighted to be able to help.
I couldn't tell what that meant, in all honesty. Was being a Noble House impressive? Did I have duties that I didn't know about? Or properties, even? There were just so many questions that I didn't know the answers to. And why hadn't I been told about this before? I could only hope it was simply because people assumed that I already knew. I decided then and there that I would have to figure this out before continuing my admittedly leisurely journey around the magical world.
I looked through a few more areas in the house before growing bored and deciding to go back out into magical Salem. It wasn't difficult since my new elf, who had essentially been following my every move through the house, simply popped me back over. It was already late morning and once more my stomach was pleading for food, so I made my way into what looked like a rather run down pub just off of the main street.
After eating at the surprisingly homey-feeling pub, I wandered around the magical shopping district a little more. It was nice to see how few people took note of me even while it seemed everything else was quite similar to Britain. Still, nothing held too much interest to me after the thought that I could possibly have property and duties that I had never known about. It bothered me so much that, after only an hour of checking out the shopping district, I once more found myself heading back to the travelling shop. I couldn't help but ruefully consider how much money I might be throwing away by taking such an expensive trip for only a day and wish that I had learned how to apparate, or at least how to create my own portkey. Still, I felt the need to talk with Hermione and at least try to get her opinion on what I had found, as well as my concerns. If it took a bit of money, well, I had some to spare.
A quick transaction with the wizard behind the counter and I had a set time for my portkey back to Britain. A careful question to the employee let me know that I wouldn't be getting the portkey to myself, which was uncomfortable, but not entirely unexpected.
The trip back was about as uncomfortable as any of the others. I was pulled along by a golden watch with another shadily dressed wizard. The landing was jarring, and it took a few moments for my head to clear from all of the spinning. Going through the shop and out once more into the busy shopping area that was Diagon Alley, I found myself wishing once more that I had a better disguise. No one paid me too much mind, but I was getting some odd looks.
In the feeble light of the dreary british evening, I made my way to a flooing area while hoping that I was remembering the address Ron had once told me correctly. My first priority was to find Hermione, who would likely be able to find the answers to most of my questions. I could only hope that, with our long friendship, she wouldn't be as inclined to turn me in to the Headmaster as she once was.
A shout of 'Waverly Place' and then I was spinning through the floo system, praying that I had the correct address and that I had said it clearly enough not to arrive at some unexpected location. As I finally finished the dizzying journey through household chimneys, I found myself in an unlit, homey living area that had just enough light from the dreary outdoors that I could see some of the pictures hung in the room. And the bookcases.
Oh yes, this was the right place.
The first step that I took away from the Floo was odd, if nothing else. It felt like trying to pass through syrup, but went away quickly enough. I shook off the feeling and ventured into a kitchen, hoping that someone was home and that I didn't startle them too badly. With Ron in Auror Training, I was likely to get a curse to the face before he realized that I was a friendly.
Down a short hallway passed the kitchen, there was an open door with the light on. In relief, I hurried over to the door and stepped inside, bumping the door loudly as I did.
The noise startled a very bushy-haired woman sitting at a lone desk surrounded by texts so badly that she literally jump in the air in fright. She quickly turned around, with one hand on her chest and the other near her wand. When she had a second to calm down and truly look at me, I could see the change in her attitude clearly.
"Oh, Harry! Why…why on Earth did you come back? It's not safe here! Haven't you heard?" Hermione exclaimed when she saw me. She stared at me for a second more and shook her head.
"Oh, the things you get yourself into…" she complained in exasperation. I looked at her in both confusion and worry.
What had I done this time?
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