Harry Prewett and the Case of Inadvertent Illegal Time Travel
Chapter Five: Familial Familiarity
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who Reviewed, Alerted and Favorited, you guys are awesome sauce! Yes, I did just say/type that! On with the story...
Harry and Dorea had everything laid out nicely on the dining room table by the time Violet stumbled in around nine thirty wearing very figure flattering plum coloured silk pyjama bottoms and a lavender camisole, her long hair in a sleep mussed ponytail, and her eyes still half-lidded.
"Good morning Violet," said Dorea looking amused as she loaded up a plate.
"Dorea," she grunted reaching blindly for her teacup.
"Morning Aunt Violet,"
"Harry, did you sleep well?"
"Yeah, out like a light," Harry assured her taking a sip of his coffee.
Violet made a polite response and reached for one of the mini-omelettes in the nearest tray. She bit in and made a surprised noise.
"Dorea, these are especially delicious, did you change your recipe?" asked Violet slurping a bit on her tea before taking another delicate bite.
"Harry made them," said Dorea proudly.
Harry ducked his head, shoving his hands in his pockets and smiling shyly, "After about a billion batches gone wrong,"
Violet's eyes went wide and she adopted a frankly impressed look.
"She let you in the kitchen?"
"Well, I let myself in, but apparently I've been doing it all wrong, so Aunt Dorea's going to teach me how to cook properly,"
"Yes, but...she let you stay in the kitchen, you haven't even been poisoned or hexed or anything,"
"Really Violet, I'm not that bad,"
"Yes, you really are, Blacks are so possessive,"
"Yes, Aunt Dorea really let me in the kitchen without maiming or threatening and graciously allowed the best of my efforts to serve as breakfast," Harry cut in rolling his eyes slightly.
"You're making up a plate for Charlus?"
"Yes,"
"Send more little omelettes," Violet advised before tucking into her second with gusto.
"Uncle Charlus isn't coming down for breakfast?"
"That man gets up at 5:30 in the morning almost every morning to open the offices and review files make sure things are running smoothly before he gets too embroiled in one particular case, I always make him up a plate, sometimes I make breakfast for the entire office," Dorea explained.
"At Christmas she barely ever leaves the kitchen during the day, turning out mass amounts of food by special order, and then she spends all night schmoozing wealthy clients and pureblood socialites with Charlus at some gala or another snacking on platters that she'd made just that afternoon,"
"Those things are as dull as dishwater, the least I can do is enjoy my hors d'oeuvres," sniffed Dorea.
"She's the Wizarding World's best kept secret," Violet said looking proud.
"That is kind of awesome," Harry said with a grin.
"Only kind of?" asked Dorea coyly.
"I'm not answering that on the grounds you might get a big head," Harry teased.
Dorea laughed and gave him a playful swat that he had plenty of time to avoid.
"Frannie!" she called.
There was a pop and an elf with a nose shaped like half a biscotti and abnormally large feet appeared.
"Mistress is having the Master's breakfast for Frannie?" peeped the elf in her cheery birdlike voice.
"Yes, there you go Frannie, thank you,"
"Mistress is being welcome," said Frannie with a short bow before popping away with the food in hand.
The family then tucked into breakfast with the earnest gusto of hungry people, only to be interrupted a moment later by the familiar tap, tap, tap of an owl at the window.
Harry plucked a smallish piece of bacon from the platter and without being asked rose and went to the window. Once Harry got the window open one of the many non-descript brown Hogwarts owls landed on the sill and held out its leg. Harry untied the familiar thick envelope addressed in loopy green handwriting from the owl's leg and held out the bit of bacon.
The owl gave an excited hoot and plucked it neatly from Harry's fingers.
"There should be some water up in the owlry, feel free to have a bit of a rest before you head out," Harry told it.
The owl hooted in response and flew away whether up to the owlry or to a quiet tree to enjoy his snack before heading back to Hogwarts Harry couldn't have guessed. He shut the window and returned to his seat with the letter.
"About time!" Violet declared, "I was expecting their owl ages ago,"
"Hn, the old coot must not have his fingers in any of the pies in the Department of Mysteries," Dorea said.
"Oh stop it Dorea, there is nothing wrong with being well-connected as you well know,"
"Power corrupts and the more of it you have the more corrupted you get, as you well know,"
"The letter, for anyone who's interested reads -" Harry said interrupting the beginning what appeared to be a long standing argument between the two women.
Dear Mr. Prewett,
In light of recent circumstances it is my pleasure to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as a transfer student from the Penruffle School. Your transcripts are all in order and you can expect to join Gryffindor house this coming year. Please inform your current guardian that your tuition for the next four years of study has been completely covered by a Ministry Scholarship. Please find enclosed a letter from your Head of House and a list of the necessary books and equipment.
Yours Sincerely
Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress
"What are you taking for electives?" asked Violet.
"Divination and Care of Magical Creatures,"
"Divination," sneered Dorea contemptuously.
"Now Dorea, don't be mean,"
"It's alright Aunt Violet, at my old school the professor that taught it was a hack and it was pretty much a slacker course, I should have taken Muggle Studies or Magical Music or something, anything else," Harry shuddered.
"Muggle Studies, Hn,"
"What did you want to do after Hogwarts?" asked Violet.
"I was thinking of being an Auror, I know there'll be demand in the field for the next few years and my best subject is Defence, I need to get my Potions marks up this year though apparently," said Harry shaking his head.
"How can you not do well in Potions? You can cook, Potions isn't that much different if you know your ingredients," Dorea said frowning.
"Really?"
"Yes, I have a book you can have with hundreds of tables of different ingredients and their properties that should help,"
"Thanks, mostly I'm not a bad Potions student, I follow the directions in the book fine and I can identify a good number of them based on taste and smell, but my professor really didn't like me and of course I had to worry about sabotage from the Slytherins,"
"Sabotage," said Violet frowning.
"Yeah, I said no to a Malfoy, he took it badly," said Harry smirking slightly.
Dorea laughed wickedly and even Violet couldn't hold in a small triumphant smile.
"Malfoy's are by their nature, obsessive and cursed with an overdeveloped sense of their own importance. Abraxus for example is not very well-liked but he has almost as extensive a network of connections as Professor Dumbledore," Violet said taking a delicate bite out of a blueberry breakfast tart.
"They are also raised from birth to be ruthless, I have a book on wards and defensive enchantments I have a feeling you'll get good use out of as well," Dorea said slyly gesturing with her fork.
"Speaking of which, since we're going to be out and about today buying Harry's books and things is there anything you'd like me to pick up?"
"That won't be necessary Violet as I'm coming with you," she said.
Violet bit her lip, and Harry wondered what the problem with that was.
"Dorea we're going to be shopping in muggle London for half the day,"
"I had assumed as much Violet, I'd thank you not to treat me like an imbecile,"
"Darling, you don't like muggles," Violet pointed out gently.
Dorea assumed the pained expression of an innately stubborn and prideful person preparing to admit to a fault.
"I haven't ever even met a muggle and apparently you cannot make judgements about things you have never tried,"
Violet managed to reign in her urge to giggle but the spasmodic twitching of her cheek was so obvious that it didn't really make a difference.
"That's very mature of you," she said once she managed to get herself under control.
Harry carefully hid his blossoming grin behind his coffee mug as Dorea gave a long suffering sigh. She sounded a bit like a precocious young child coming around to admitting she was hungry after throwing a screaming crying fit about being made to eat dinner.
"Well if we're going to get anything done today we'd best be off and about it," Violet said briskly draining the last of her tea and pulling her wand out of her pants' pocket.
"If you're cleaning up, I'll go get dressed," Dorea said standing and stretching before leaving the room.
"Are you done, Harry?" she asked indicating his mostly empty plate.
"Oh, yeah," he said shrugging and moving to start clearing the table.
"No, leave it there," Violet instructed and with a few economic flicks of her wand the plates and utensils were stacked neatly.
Another loose swish sent them over to the sideboard where they promptly disappeared.
"Cool," Harry said grinning.
Violet smiled back.
"It's a modern variation on the Charms used for the tables at Hogwarts, the House Elves all adore it since it means we don't have to fetch and carry the dishes ourselves, the dears. We'll aim to leave in a half-hour so you have a bit of time to get some exploring in. If you get lost just call for Fenn," she said before turning and moving up a narrow flight of stairs Harry hadn't noticed before.
Since Aunt Violet's advice was right in line with Harry's own naturally born curiosity he left the dining room and turned left down a previously unexplored hall.
The Potter Manor was not meant for claustrophobic people or people who were easily confused as the large and tastefully luxurious rooms made for long narrow corridors lit by warm yellow witchlights, cramped staircases tucked into dark corners and a twisty maze of doors and doorways. Most of the doors were open and the rooms behind them were inviting. There was a two story private library that Hermione would have drooled over, a solarium that overlooked a well landscaped gravel path leading to a set of greenhouses that would have had Neville swooning with delight, a locked door that Harry suspected led to Dorea's private potions lab, and finally a casual living room that managed to be exactly what Harry had always imagined a living room should look like minus the television.
The furniture was well kept but comfortably well-used and upholstered in muted browns, blues and greens. There were three cats dozing in sunny spots and a wealth of fuzzy throw blankets neatly draped over the arms of the chairs and couches. A big fireplace dominated one wall above the mantle was a large portrait of a family smiling and laughing in front of a big tree. In the portrait Dorea and Charlus kissed soundly while a rough looking young man who looked a lot like Charlus save for his hair which was wild and stuck up at odd angles as if he'd simply rolled out of bed and left it swinging a boy of about eight with an equally gravity defying crop of jet black hair around happily.
Harry felt a familiar pang of longing in his chest. More than anything else in the world Harry, who had never known the love of his family, wished that he could belong in that portrait. Ron really didn't know how lucky he had it.
"Mrow!" came the feline demand as the lithe black creature wound itself around Harry's legs.
Harry regarded it warily. He did not have good experiences with cats, but it had noticed his attention on it and reared up on its hind legs to paw at him, meowing bossily.
"Alright, alright, don't get your fur in a bunch," he muttered lifting her carefully into his arms.
"My fur is not in a bunch," snapped a female voice.
Harry started.
"You can talk?"
"Of course I can talk, foolish male, stop poking your fingers into my ribs,"
Harry adjusted his grip on the cat automatically.
"I'm sorry it's just a bit of a shock, the cats I'm used to dealing with can't talk," Harry said apologetically.
"Of course they can talk, you just can't understand them, you're not their human, you're mine," she said looking up at him with an unsettling flat feline stare.
Her eyes were green. Their eyes matched, and if he hadn't been through a complete work over as far as his appearance was concerned they would have the same colour hair. Harry couldn't stop the little half-smile that quirked his mouth.
"So you don't talk like this to everyone?"
"I'm not the problem, I talk like this all the time, but a witch may only understand his or her familiar,"
Harry gave a quick mental apology to Hermione, Filch and Mrs. Figg who he'd always assumed were just seriously whacked creepy cat loving people.
"So you're my familiar, now are you?" said Harry amused as he settled them into one of the squashy armchairs.
"Mmmhmm," purred the cat as he scratched her behind the ears, "And you're mine,"
"But I already have a familiar, Hedwig," Harry protested.
"Except that she's gone, Harry-mine, and I am here,"
Who could argue with depressingly accurate logic like that? Still he continued to stroke her and soon they were both lulled into a kind of lethargic stupor.
"So Miss. Disdain finally graces someone with her tolerance, I never thought I'd see the day,"
"The werewolf male is tolerable," commented the cat hopping off Harry's chest as he sat up and settling herself on the back of couch with a disgruntled mew at having her encroaching nap disturbed and delayed.
Aunt Violet had showered and changed into a short sleeved ivory blouse tucked into a beige silk pencil skirt that started at her ribs and ended a few inches above her knees revealing long well muscled legs and small shapely feet in flirty peep toe high heels. Topped off with a sleeveless robe in a pale lavender colour and her long red hair hanging mostly loose Harry was once again struck by how beautiful she was.
If Violet was ready to be the poster witch for functional femininity for the light minded women of the wizarding world, Dorea was ready to snap up the dark minded ones. Her dark hair was still piled atop her head but she'd traded in her sleepwear for a clingy black dress with a modest neckline, strappy green high heeled sandals and what looked like a green silk shawl with holes for arms that she was wrapping around her middle and tying off at her hip.
Harry took note of the fact that the loose free floating silk concealed the leather shoulder rig he'd caught a glimpse of while still leaving Dorea's wand accessible and Violet's hair clip was serving double duty as a wand holster. Anyone passing them in the street might think they were rich trophy wives without much sense. They would be very wrong.
"Are we going straight to Diagon Alley or do we have to stop at a photo shoot?" Harry asked cheekily.
Violet blushed.
"Flattery will get you everywhere," Dorea smirked.
"Really, does that mean we don't have to floo?"
"Smart ass," Dorea laughed swatting him lazily upside the head.
"We aren't using floo, I hate floo," Violet declared with vehemence.
"Me too, I always fall out of the fireplace," Harry said shaking his head.
"So we're apparating then are we?" asked Dorea.
"Most definitely," Violet said with a brisk nod, "I brought you your shoes Harry," she added.
Harry slipped into the shoes quickly and then the three of them walked down the wide gravel drive to the edge of the wards Dorea and Violet pointing out certain noteable features of Lionsgate along the way, like the owlry tower that used to house a cursed woman and the start of the trail in the small wood behind the estate that was apparently an offshoot from the Black Forest in Albania, brought to England by Rupert Potter when he retired from vampire hunting in 1836.
They reached the end of the drive and Harry casually linked his arm with Violet's and they disappeared with a short snap.
AN: Sorry about the long wait folks. My computer doesn't like the site maintenence and I've been unable to post anything at home. Here's hoping the absence made your hearts grow fonder.
I know I promised action a bazillion years ago and I promise it's coming! The same goes for the appearence of the Marauders themselves.
With the addition of appropriately aged males to the story coming up it's time for me to make a decision on the pairing...but I really can't. So, I plead for your opinions, send me a review or PM and convince me that your favorite male MWPP Era character is the one for Harry, defend/promote your choice with your fabulous arguments and justifications!
Also, should Harry work on becoming an animagus by himself or wait to be invited to join the Marauders?
Please review and let me know what you think! I'm always happy to hear from you guys even if it's only a few words.
Until next time!