Harry and the Magic Factory
A/N: Thank you for reading along. Hopefully you'll enjoy the upcoming chapters: there will be a lot of explanation, a lot of fun, and not a few dastardly pranks a la Roald Dahl.
Chapter 4
X-c-X-c-X-c-X
The visit to the Confections Division went poorly. Colin and Blaise were both nearly green from eating too much chocolate. Cormac McLaggen spooned whipped cream and mint chips onto Lisa Turpin's face and attempted to lick them off. And then Fenecule Moody accidentally fell inside one of the large chocolate mixing vats. By accidentally, it means that Blaise and Bracus Snape sort of helped him in.
After the Oompahs pulled Fenecule out of the chocolate, Harry left Fenecule there to recover, it's not easy to remove chocolate from inside one's lungs, and portaled the rest of the group to the Crabbe Estate and Potter's Haberdashery.
The continually shrinking group was met by a rakish rogue of a man, with healthy features, long black hair, and a perpetual smile etched into his features. Harry introduced him as, "Sirius Black, Master of Pranks and Duelling, Head of our Haberdashery Division and a few other things…"
The man, Sirius, bowed deeply toward Harry and then pursed his lips in amusement. "How have the Chosen enjoyed their tour?"
"I don't know, Uncle, we've been so busy seeing the sights that I haven't asked anyone what they thought…"
This unleashed the floodgates. "Animagery Toffee…" "I'd like to try the Gift Potion…" "How do you grow a plant that produces chocolate fruit?" "Why do you need a monster-sized pot to stir chocolate inside?"
The Chosen were definitely a curious bunch.
But Harry Potter and Sirius Black just smiled. "Apparently they're enjoying themselves," Sirius said. "So, let's be off to look at what we do at the Haberdashery…"
At this, the Chosen sort of groaned. Clothing certainly wasn't as interesting as Pranks or Confections. But Sirius could make anything fun.
He led everyone into the large ballroom of the estate's manor. But it wasn't configured for a party. No, a dozen witches and wizards were inside using their magic to unravel and unfurl hundreds of yards of cloth, while scissors and shears carefully cut out the necessary portions. Hundreds of needles were in motion all over the room.
Sirius let everyone take in the scene for a few moments before he ushered them out and toward another door. "That was the cloth room, pretty standard fare in there really. Here is the silk room, spider silk, acromantula silk, all varieties…"
Next came the denim room – "mainly for our Muggle-based businesses, you see" – and then the unmentionables room. The boys were all blushing a bit as they took in the see-through laces that made up the production of the room.
Susan Bones hissed, "Only a guy could come up with designs like these. Women would never think up something that painful to wear…"
Sirius, of course, overheard it. Then he began filling in Susan with his vast knowledge of exactly which women he'd known who'd worn things very much like these. It seemed Sirius had quite a reputation in certain parts of Muggle London.
Bracus Snape and Blaise Zabini were getting bored looking at clothes by this point. But the insane man in front of them had some sort of Mastery in Duelling, so they thought it best not to annoy the man. Instead, they tried to turn the conversation away from haberdashery and back onto this bizarre world they were ensconced within.
"So, Potter," Snape said, "where exactly did all these estates come from? Different names like Lestrange, Crabbe, and Goyle…"
Harry turned around from showing off a dressing dummy and looked at Bracus Snape. "Not a very interesting question, is it? Discussing the differences between Muggle and magical fashion is part of the purpose we're here now. Please get in the spirit…"
Bracus wasn't having it. "No, how did you steal all these estates? Most of them disappeared years ago…"
Harry flashed a slight look of annoyance. "I assure you, my boy, that I've stolen nothing. All these lands we'll see, plus much more, rightfully belong to the Potter Estate."
Blaise smirked. "I don't believe this either. I've read up on what happened during the Death Eater War. All these estates came from people who were Death Eaters…"
Harry nodded, glad for an intelligent fellow. "Exactly right. Formerly Death Eater estates, now and forever Potter's. Very simple, just like that." Harry turned back to the dressing dummy, but all of the other Chosen were now interested in this topic.
Lisa Turpin joined the conversation. "Kind of a big switch there, right? Care to fill in the intervening steps? No one just gives up their estates…"
Harry rolled his eyes for a second and let the piece of fabric in his hand drop. He looked like he was preparing to address very disobedient seven-year-old children. "I suspect you don't know much about Wizarding law or tradition?"
He hadn't expected a response, but Blaise, Bracus, and Cormac McLaggen all attempted to defend their honor.
"Bah! Let me give you a quick lesson in Lordships under the wizarding law. Unlike the Muggles, where Lords come from the Queen's goodwill, a wizard lord comes from his strength and ability to convince other wizards to follow him. So, this Lord Tom Riddle person assembled a crew of vassals, called Death Eaters, and began attacking people…"
No one could say anything to Harry's irreverent use of the name Tom Riddle. In the old days, parents reminded their children, speaking the name Tom Riddle was the equivalent of a death sentence. But no one killed Harry, so he kept on speaking.
"…then came my parents. They'd hidden because of some ridiculous prophecy and were betrayed by a friend. This Tom Riddle person killed my father, then my mother, then he attempted to kill me. Let's just say it didn't work…."
"You couldn't have killed him," Bracus Snape shouted.
"I didn't say I had. I did defeat him, though…"
No one had ever heard this version of the downfall of the Dark Lord. The description printed years ago in the wizarding papers, and then reprinted in text books and the like, had never spelled all this out.
"It's all lies," Snape shouted again. "So how did you steal these places from them, oh great conqueror?"
"…if you knew anything about laws and traditions, any person who defeats a Lord in combat earns the perpetual right to all that Lord's possessions, including all of his vassals and all of his vassals' belongings. That pesky little Dark Mark they all wore is more than enough to establish them as vassals, so we seized all our spoils of war. It's actually all on record in your Ministry of Magic, you know… But no one ever bothers to look in a lot of those dusty tomes."
The remaining Chosen all seemed a bit shocked that this crazy-seeming young man had just said something so profound about the wizard world they hadn't known.
"…but, enough of this tosh, let me show you to the custom fabrication room. That's where truly exciting things happen in men's fashions…"
The slightly stunned group followed along. It wasn't until they got to the dragon hide rooms – for armor and other protective devices – that Bracus Snape recovered his poise.
"I suppose you murdered all the Death Eaters, then, since the Dark Lord killed your parents?"
At this, the tall, shaggy haired man laughed. "Oh, that's rich…"
Harry looked sour again. "No, I've never murdered any of them. At first, Sirius and Remus kept them locked up in a dungeon, but eventually we discovered how to make all of them vassals to me in a magical sense. Once we did the ritual, we let them go…"
"That's got to be a lie. If they're 'free,' then why has no one seen them in years?"
Harry pointed to one of the witches in the dragon hide room. "Bellatrix Lestrange." At that command, the woman stood up. "Tell everyone what you've been doing for the last dozen-plus years…"
The unattractive woman looked confused for a second then she started to talk. "I was apprehended in 1981, imprisoned for five years, and since then I've been working here or at another part of the Potter Estates, as best benefits my lord." She raised up her left sleeve. "The mark my previous lord gave me disappeared and a lot of my sanity has returned since then. You sound skeptical, young Snape, but I actually enjoy my work. And I enjoy a pain-free life."
Harry nodded at the woman and she sat back down and resumed her work, humming the entire time.
Bracus Snape was in shock. This most feared Death Eater was humming while using her magic to sew. It had to be a lie.
"Where's Lucius Malfoy, then?"
Bracus had had personal lessons from his father on the Death Eaters. He knew every name.
Sirius responded to the question. "Lucius died a few years back…"
"…because you killed him…" Bracus attempted to shout.
"…we think because of the lasting effect of the Cruciatus Curse. He always refused treatment for it. Narcissa is currently at one of the estates in North America, but perhaps you'll meet Draco or his younger brother Tertullian. They should both still be in school by the time you arrive there."
The murmuring started again. "They have a school here?" "They're keeping slaves, these vassals?" "There are kids here?"
Harry was beginning to collect his Chosen together when he noticed something odd. Cormac McLaggen had used the argument to hide over in a corner near where some of the completed items were stored. It looked like Cormac was just now rearranging his clothes. And he looked bulkier now for some reason.
Harry decided to make a lesson out of the young man. He nodded to Sirius, then pointed to the suspected thief. Sirius brought up his wand and began banishing portions of Cormac's clothing. His shirt was gone, revealing expensive dragon hide armor underneath. Sirius banished the lad's pants to discover that he had also stolen dragon hide breeches. How he'd had time to steal the clothing and dress himself in it, no one knew. He'd been nearly naked just ten feet away from everyone else.
"That's a practiced maneuver. I'd expect a lot of your fancy clothes have been purloined the same way," Sirius said.
The Oompas entered the room and restrained Cormanc. Harry ushered everyone else out before the Oompahs decided to unceremoniously strip Cormac McLaggen of everything he wore. The boy obviously didn't have many talents, save stealing, and Harry was sure he didn't want to scare his remaining Chosen with Cormac's meager physical assets.
"Oh, dear," Harry said. "If the Oompas detest anything it's liars and thieves. I fear they will not go easy on that young man. Oh well, we all still have much to see and do, I think. Shall we continue on?"
The Chosen were ready to move on and distance themselves from one of their thieving brethren. But Sirius wanted to hand out gifts first. Every remaining Chosen received a dragon hide wand holster.
A princely gift.
"Come, come, everyone. We're shrinking in number rapidly," Harry said, without a single care in his voice. As if he had expected just this kind of situation. "But there is still so very much to see, so much to explain."
That part of Harry's spiel was new: the promise to explain. He'd only really been hinting about what had happened to Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Would he really explain it all in detail? Any one of the Chosen could use such information in a dozen different ways. And everyone of the Chosen had another hundred questions they wanted to ask about what they had seen in this place.
Harry brought them all back outside, then he opened another portal. When they arrived at, "Potter's Necromantics, on the Malfoy Estate," more than one Chosen screamed. Because there was a very peculiar lifeform that came out to greet Harry and his Chosen. A massive specter moved out of the Manor and came down toward the group. Harry got excited and ran toward – who in their right mind runs toward a ghost, by the way? – the ghost. He babbled rapidly with the ghost for a few moments before Harry turned around again.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is my father, James Potter."