Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
AN:
Thanks to all reviewers! Your comments are what keep me going : )
I must warn you that not much happens in this chapter. But I had to mention several little things that will be relevant for the plot later on, so it had to be done.
Next chapter will be much more fast-paced and interesting, I promise.
Part I: Chapter 27
Tom and Harry finally arrived to the front steps of the orphanage.
The trip back had not been particularly pleasant.
After leaving the library, they had reached their dormitory in order to pack their things and change into muggle clothes. Tom had still been in an acerbic, moody disposition, dragging his feet as if hopping to delay them and make them miss the train. So Harry had taken matters in hand and had made use of his ample array of Charm spells to swiftly pack all their things in their trunks.
Thankfully, they were just in time to catch the last of the carriages that left from Hogwarts' entrance to take them to Hogsmeade's Station.
With much on their minds, they chose a secluded, empty compartment, all to themselves, in the Hogwarts Express. For the whole duration of the trip, Tom had not spoken a word to him, only looking out through the window, his face increasingly turning darker the closer they got to London.
Once they arrived at King's Cross Station, it had been easy, at least. One of the spells Harry had cast on their trunks was the Feather-Light Charm, so that they would have no problem pulling them around. And Tom hadn't brought Lord Horkos.
"At least I can spare him from suffering two whole weeks at the orphanage," Tom had said crisply before they left Hogwarts, when his brother was still speaking to him. "He'll be fine in the Owlery. He likes it." He had smirked at Harry, looking highly pleased. "He's always screeching, attacking, and intimidating the other owls, and already got for himself the best niche in the place."
Thus, only carrying trunks that weighted nothing, they had taken a series of double-decker buses to reach their neighborhood. The sky had already turned dark by the time they made their way to St. Jerome's, leaving tracks on the snowed streets.
At present, they were climbing up the doorsteps of the orphanage, with silence still reigning heavily between them.
For a moment, Harry paused before knocking, as he frowned, puzzled.
The house looked a mite blurry to him. He took off his eyeglasses, inspecting them, but he saw no smudges on the lenses. Releasing a sigh, he put them back on, realizing what it must mean.
As he rapped his knuckles on the door, he could hear a loud mix of voices coming from within the house, all sounding cheerful and excited, and he smiled with anticipation.
They didn't have to wait for long. The door was drawn open and Magda peered down at them, surprise painted on her face. She and another one called Karen were the two girls who had replaced the odious Mr. Jenkins as caregivers, a long while back.
"What are you doing here?" She blinked at them bemusedly. "Alice said you were staying in your boarding school."
"Evidently not," said Tom caustically, glowering up at her as if a greater fool he had never encountered, before he snapped angrily, "Are you going to let us in or not?"
"No need to get nasty," Magda huffed out, moving to a side to allow them in.
Tom shot her one last glare as he stepped inside, briskly dragging his trunk after himself, and Harry merely followed at his heels, shaking his head.
Harry was assaulted by all sorts of sounds when they entered the playroom, where all the orphanage seemed to have gathered to spend their last hours together before having to turn to bed.
The room was already decorated for Christmas. There was a rather scraggly, small pine tree at one corner, with paper decorations that seemed to have been cut out from newspapers and colored with crayons. The brick fireplace had countless of ordinary grey socks hanging from the mantelpiece, though they looked to be stuffed with candies. And the walls were given a festive touch with garlands and wreaths pinned here and there.
Moreover, the voices of children were meshed with the Christmas carols that came from the radio at one corner of the room, and the ensuing cacophony was loud.
It was Alice who saw them first. Her look at first startled at the sight of them, then beaming with happiness as she rushed up and pulled Harry into an embrace, making him drop his trunk.
"Oh, you came back home!" she gushed joyously, before she released him and gazed down at him, looking worried. "But why didn't you write to let us know? I would have waited for you at King's Cross. You didn't have any problems, did you?"
"It was a last minute decision," said Harry, smiling up at her, "so we didn't have the chance to let you know beforehand." He then rolled his eyes. "And of course we didn't have any problems. We know our way around London."
Alice didn't seem to be too mollified by that, still looking apprehensive that she hadn't been there to accompany two little boys.
"Well, I'm glad you changed your minds," she said at last, her tone warm, as she then glanced at Tom to give him a welcoming smile. She clearly knew better than to try to hug him.
It was then that his friends caught sight of Harry, bubbling with enthusiasm as they rushed up to their little group.
"I knew you would come for Christmas!" said Amy Benson, giving him a tight, lingering hug, blushing as she looked into his eyes and added tentatively, "You missed me, didn't you? Tell me you did. That's why you came, right?"
Harry heard Tom hissing something under his breath, and he glanced at his brother to see him darkly scowling, his eyes narrowed at the girl. Well, no surprise there. Tom had always hated his friends.
"Let the boy have some breathing air, Amy," said Eric Whalley, rolling his eyes, before he patted Harry on the back. "Good to have you here." Then he added in an excited rush, "You gotta tell us all about your prissy school for stuck-up rich kids. You never say much in your letters-"
"Oh, yes," breathed out Amy, her blue eyes wide with curiosity. "Did you meet the sons of Lords? Are they really very nasty? What do they wear-"
"Look what I got for my birthday!" piped in Billy Stubbs, apparently unable to contain his excitement for much longer.
The boy held up a large cat that had missing tuffs of hair and a rather vicious air about him, as evidenced by all the scratches on Billy's hands and face.
"Alice found him in the streets. He was starving, poor thing!" said Billy, looking down at his pet with a soft, adoring expression on his face.
Just then, Harry heard Alice muttering under her breath, "… more trouble than it's worth… wouldn't have brought it in if I had known…"
"I've named him Puff!" declared Billy proudly. "After Puffy the Bunny, you know-" He clamped his mouth shut, paling, as he shot Tom a terrified look, before he quickly looked away and swallowed, remaining silent.
Tom, for his part, smirked widely at the boy, the dark expression on his face vanishing to be replaced by a smug, self-satisfied look.
"Er, yes," said Harry quickly, forcing a smile to stretch on his lips. "So Puff, eh? He looks very nice, Billy." Though he made no attempt to pet the thing.
"He's a wild beast," snorted out Eric.
"No, he's not!" snapped Billy, bristling defensively. "He just needs time to get used to other people." The boy glanced down at the cat in his arms with loving, misty eyes, as he reached out a hand to pet him. "Don't you, Puff?"
As soon as they boy touched him, the cat spit out a dangerous hiss, flung out a paw to slash the boy's hand with its claws, and then jumped out of Billy's arms, dashing away.
"Puff!" cried out Billy, vanishing from their side as he scrambled after the cat.
"See what I mean?" said Eric in a suffering tone of voice as they observed their friend disappear through a crowd of children.
Abruptly, a loud wail rose above all other sounds and voices, and Harry glanced around, startled. "What's that?"
"A baby," said Amy, pointing a finger towards the other end of the room. "Karen found her two days ago at the doorsteps."
Indeed, Harry saw the caregiver with a baby in her arms. One of Amy's friends, Matilda, was with her, cooing and making faces at it.
"Mati has taken a shine to her," piped in Amy, not looking too happy that her friend had abandoned her for a baby. She huffed. "She even goes to the nursery to watch over her. So Karen allowed her to name the baby. She's called Mottie."
Harry winced. Ouch. Poor thing. His expression must have been very telling because Amy giggled, as she said, "I know. It's an awful name."
"Who cares about the baby," said Eric, rolling his eyes, before he added enthusiastically, "Tell him about all the other things that have happened!"
"Like what?" prompted Harry, intrigued.
Eric shot him a large, wide smile. "Look around. Notice anyone missing?"
Frowning, Harry scanned the room with his eyes, and then, "Where's Dennis?"
Amy giggled happily and Eric toothily grinned at him, as he said with much relish, "You should have remembered the date of his birthday. We noticed you didn't say anything in your letters so we didn't tell you. We wanted it to be a surprise." His grin widened and became so large that it seemed to occupy the entirety of his freckled face. "Dennis Bishop turned eighteen just two weeks after you left. And Jake last month. So-"
"They've left!" exclaimed Harry exultantly as the realization struck him.
He hadn't even thought about his childhood tormentor when he had been at Hogwarts. And much less about Jake, one of Dennis Bishop's friends who liked to say cruel things to the younger children and make them cry. Though the boy never bullied them physically as Dennis did, nor had he targeted Harry, surely because he was already Dennis' exclusive prey.
The news decidedly put him in a very cheerful, festive mood, and he beamed back at his friends.
"Yup," said Eric, his eyes glinting. "They're gone and good riddance to them."
"Oh, but that's not all," said Amy enthusiastically. "We've got new children-"
A group of little children came careening, bumping into her and nearly knocking her over if it wasn't for Eric's fast reflexes, who quickly grabbed Amy to steady her, as the runts took no notice and kept running and happily shrieking as they chased each other.
"Watch where you're going, you midgets!" shouted Eric angrily, as he finally released Amy's arm.
"Who are those?" said Harry, utterly gobsmacked as his gaze followed the little children around the room.
Tom and him had always been the youngest in the orphanage. Even as they grew up, St. Jerome's hadn't received any new children, because they already had a full house.
That the orphanage had taken in a baby left at their doorsteps, that was understandable, since the nursery had been empty for as long as he could remember, so they had the space for it. But having new little children?
Alice, who had thus far been content to let Harry have his reunion with his friends without budging in, was who replied, clearing her throat.
"They are John, Matthew, Anne, and Peter," she said. "They are from another orphanage that had to close due to lack of funds from the government. They sent their children to other orphanages in the country and four came to us."
She paused, looking anxious and fretful as she glanced at Tom and him.
"We didn't know you were coming for Christmas Holidays," she began, her tone apprehensive. "So we…" She sighed heavily. "Well, come and you'll see, and I'll think of something."
With that, and calling out, "Magda, will you please come along to help?", Alice made her way out of the room, with Tom and Harry following her as they pulled their trunks after them: Harry bemused, Tom looking incensed.
After climbing stairs and reaching the floor of the boys' quarters, Alice opened the door of their bedroom.
Harry gaped, releasing the handle of his trunk, at the sight. The room was an utter mess: their closet was wide open with all sorts of things sticking out; their two beds were a mass of disorderly bed sheets, blankets, and pillows; there was a new cot in the middle; and someone had drawn all over their walls with crayons - there were colorful squiggles, doodles, stick figures, suns, flowers, butterflies, other incomprehensible swirls and lines, and whatnot.
"Peter likes to draw," said Alice in a small voice, looking deeply apologetic.
"You gave our room to others?" hissed out Tom, his voice so furious, sharp, and incisive that it sounded like a whiplash.
Alice flinched, before she glanced at them beseechingly, and said softly, "We didn't have anywhere to put them." She shook her head, looking angered. "Kathy wrote, saying that we didn't have space for extra children, but they didn't care. All orphanages are in our situation. So we had no choice but to put Peter, John, and Matthew in your room. And little Anne in the one Dennis Bishop shared with Jake."
Harry sighed, before he gave her a gentle smile. "It's alright. Tom and I can just sleep in the…" He frowned uncertainly. "Um, in the…"
"What – in the kitchen?" snarled Tom, to then lower his voice and whisper poignantly in his ear, "Like house-elves?"
Harry winced, and then bit his bottom lip, saying nothing to that.
"You see? We should have never come back here," continued Tom in a venomous, furious whisper. "We're not wanted."
As if to prove his point, Tom then turned around to skewer Alice with a dark gaze as he sneered, "What were you going to do when we came back for summer holidays? Kick us to the curb?"
"Of course not!" said Alice, shocked. She gestured at their bedroom anxiously. "This is only a temporary solution. We would have restored your room to how it was before, by then." She gazed at them entreatingly. "You must understand, we didn't think it would affect you. We didn't know you would be coming for Christmas."
She shook her head, distressed, before she tapped a finger on her chin.
"Oh, I know!" she said suddenly, her eyes bright. "We'll move Peter, John, and Matthew to little Anne's room, and she can sleep with me in mine, for the time being. And so," she added, giving them a big smile, "you can have your room back."
"We better," bit out Tom acidly.
Alice engaged the help of Magda to tidy their room up, pull out the extra cot, and then move the three little boys' things from their closet. They travelled up and down the corridor, carrying things, from their room to the one that had once been Dennis Bishop's.
It didn't take that long, though all the while Tom's expression darkened like gathering clouds in a storm.
When Alice and Magda were finally done, and left them alone in their bedroom, Harry released a sigh as he plopped down on his bed.
"This is horrid," said Tom angrily as he kicked a leg of his bed. He caught sight of a bright pink and yellow butterfly with a smiley face, drawn on the wall just above his bed, amidst beaming suns and flowers, and his scowl turned even darker.
He spun around to glower at Harry, as he spit out, "Being back here is like being in prison, for life! I can't stand it. We cannot even do magic!"
Harry could do nothing but give him a sympathetic look. It did feel a mite strange to be back after having experienced Hogwarts for some months. Oh, he was happy to see Alice and his friends again, but the orphanage suddenly seemed so lackluster and grim in comparison.
And he was well aware of their limitations regarding magic. Horace Slughorn had called them into their office, during the first week at Hogwarts, to explain about the Statute of Secrecy and the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery. They had already known quite a bit about such things, from their Hogwarts letters that had also included a long list of rules they had to follow and laws they were subjected to.
To Harry's surprise, though, their Head of House had also revealed to them that when Dumbledore had visited the orphanage, he had cast a ward on the house, following Ministry Law regarding the homes of muggleborns. Apparently, if they did magic in the orphanage, the ward would instantly alert the Improper Use of Magic Office of the Ministry and they would be punished with expulsion from Hogwarts.
"Can you see it?" snapped Tom, who was now piercing him with his eyes.
Harry blinked. "See what?"
"The ward Slughorn told us about, you fool!" snapped Tom impatiently. "Is it there?"
At that, Harry glanced around, and said hesitantly, "Um… I don't really know… I see nothing, except…"
"Except what?" demanded Tom instantly.
Harry sighed wearily. "It's nothing. The walls just look a bit blurry." He gestured sadly at his eyeglasses. "I think I need new lenses."
"The walls?" said Tom frowning, to then add pointedly, "Just the walls?"
"Oh." Harry shot him a bewildered look before he glanced all around their room again. "Um, yeah, I think so. But surely it's just because my eyesight got worse. I don't see anything glowing. Nothing like what I see in Hogwarts-"
"Do your eyes hurt?" pressed on Tom insistently. "Do you feel a headache?"
"No," replied Harry frowning.
"Then it's not your eyesight," said Tom slowly, a pensive look on his face. "If you see the walls blurry, it must be the ward."
"You think?" muttered Harry, as he turned his face to inspect the wall at his side.
He peered closer at it, frowning when he thought he saw something. He couldn't quite tell. It was blurry, but for a moment something had appeared: fade, little marks that had vanished in the next second, he believed.
It disquieted him. After Dumbledore's visit to the orphanage they had had several weeks before going to Hogwarts and he hadn't seen anything blurry then – not the walls nor the orphanage from the outside.
And suddenly he could see traces of the ward now? In the months he had been at Hogwarts, his strange ability had grown?
One thing was to see Hogwarts' wards, that were known to be very powerful, or the glowing magic of the horn of the unicorn they had been shown during Care of Magical Creatures, and such, but to start seeing magic in wards that were not that powerful was another matter altogether.
What would happen later? Would he start seeing magic in every little thing of the Wizarding World? It would be very bothersome - horrible, in fact. He would only find reprieve in the Muggle World. Or perhaps he could turn it off, somehow?
Harry shook his head, casting aside such gloomy thoughts. He was making a storm in a teacup. Surely it wouldn't come to that.
"This is just great," said Tom acerbically, scowling darkly. "So Slughorn was right and Dumbledore did cast a ward on the orphanage."
Pulling out of his musings, Harry glanced at his brother, his expression quizzical. "What about outside? The Ministry of Magic can't have a way of knowing if we use magic outside the orphanage."
"They do," grumbled Tom angrily. "Because of The Trace."
"Trace?" Harry frowned, nonplussed. "What trace? Slughorn didn't say anything about any traces."
Tom scoffed loudly. "Of course he didn't. They don't tell children - especially not muggleborns, like we are supposed to be." A disgusted expression crossed his face. "Of course, halfbloods and purebloods are surely told by their parents."
"Will you just tell me what it is?" urged Harry impatiently.
Tom shot him an annoyed look. "The Trace is a charm put on underaged wizards. When any magic is performed in the vicinity of the underaged wizard –outside of Hogwarts, evidently- the Ministry of Magic is alerted to the spell that was used, the location of the caster, and the time. Once the wizard becomes of age, the charm vanishes by itself." His expression darkened considerably. "Dumbledore must have cast it on us when he came here, and we didn't notice." He then added with a sneer, "So no, we can't even use magic outside the orphanage."
Frowning, Harry shook his head. "If we have this Trace thing on us, then why did Dumbledore also cast a ward on the orphanage? It's rather pointless, isn't it? The Trace would already tell the Ministry if we used magic."
"It's because we're supposedly mudbloods," said Tom crisply. "And the Ministry likes to have a tight leash on them. They take no chances, just in the eventuality that The Trace on one of them could weaken or go faulty. I read it happened once, some years ago, when the electricity in a mudblood's house somehow interfered with the charm. So that's why the Ministry also requires that a ward is cast on mudbloods' homes."
"Oh," said Harry, his shoulders slumping.
After that, Tom went back to scowl at his surroundings -particularly at the bright doodles on the walls- and it was then when Harry suddenly noticed the absence.
Feeling a frisson of alarm and anxiousness, he turned to his brother. "Where's Nagini?"
Clearly utterly unconcerned, Tom waved a hand dismissively. "She's a smart little snake. She must have slipped out and gone back to the backyard. We'll look for her in the morning."
Nagini was not a happy little snake when they found her under the bushes of the backyard, the next day. No, she was in a decidedly tempestuous, foul mood.
After they had gone around, hissing her name, she had only replied with a waspishly hissed, "I'm here!"
Following the direction of where the hiss had come from, they had finally crouched before the shrubbery to see her yellow eyes glaring up at them from amidst the branches of a bush.
At first, she didn't seem in a disposition to come out from her hiding place, surely because she was too miffed at them.
Though, before they could speak another word, her eyes vanished, and then they saw her quickly slithering out from under the branches, to then pull herself up to her full height, supporting and balancing herself with the end of her tail, as she began ranting angrily.
"They came into my domain-" Harry didn't have to ask to know that Nagini considered their bedroom her territory "-and moved things around, making a mess, and nearly stepped on me! And then they shrieked when they saw me – as if I was the ugly, smelly one and not them!"
She let out a hiss, that somehow sounded indignant and furious to his ears, as her thin body vibrated with anger, swaying and undulating.
"You've left me alone for - for…"
Well, Tom had taught Nagini how 'humans' measured time with the positions of the sun in the sky and the passage of sunsets, and about clocks and calendars and such, but Harry could hardly expect her to have a gadget that told her how many weeks had gone by.
"Four months," he supplied helpfully.
"Four months!" she hissed accusingly. "All alone, with no one to pet me and rub my scales and tell me how beautiful and wise I am!"
She flicked the tip of her tail at him, as if to denote how lowly he had become to her eyes, by being so cruel as to not be around to cherish and pamper her like she deserved.
"I've been very cold too!" she hissed crossly, now dragging her tail across the snow, as if to make her point of all the awful things she had been subjected to. "Out here, with no warm things, and this nasty, prickly white thing that gets in between my scales-"
"Enough complaining!" hissed Tom sharply. "You're not a nestling anymore. And we'll not put up with your temper tantrums!"
Nagini let out a vibrating, angered hiss.
'Master' or not, as she called Tom, she wasn't one to cower before him. She was too spirited and temperamental for that, much to Harry's satisfaction.
"I am a nestling!" she hissed, sounding as if she had been deeply insulted and offended beyond measure. "I'm still little and small and young. I demand care and worship! And you're not a good Master. You're not worthy of me!"
And with that, she flung around and quickly slithered back to her bush.
"Then freeze out here," hissed Tom furiously, "and see if I care!"
Harry sighed as his brother rose to his feet and swiftly made his way back to the house, looking as if he had been both deeply hurt and affronted by his snake's words.
"Nagini," hissed Harry, his tone soft and cajoling, "come back with me, please-"
"No!" came from the bush.
"You don't want to stay outside for longer, surely," hissed Harry persuasively. "Let me take you back to my room, where it's warm and comfortable."
"No!"
"I'll let you sleep on my pillow," offered Harry entreatingly, "and I'll fluff it up for you, and I'll scratch your scales for as long as you want."
Yellow eyes suddenly appeared in the bush, peering out. "What else?"
Harry's lips quirked upwards in amusement, before he coaxed some more, "I'll praise you every day. I'll tell you how smart and pretty and wonderful you are, because it's the truth. And you're right and Tom is a git, but you know we adore you."
"How much you adore me?"
"We revere you," hissed Harry softly. "We treasure you, because we're yours and you're ours. And we love you, and only you."
After some more persuasions, flatteries, and promises spoken, Harry returned to their room with a Nagini under his sleeve, who would demand a whole day of constant petting and praise before she was ready to remotely begin to forgive them.
Christmas passed by in a flash, as happened with all good things and times of much fun.
Harry played around with his friends, and helped Billy Stubbs to chase after his infernal cat the many times Puff made a bid for escape from the boy's lovingly yet suffocating clutches, and he sang Christmas carols at the top of his lungs with Amy Benson, along and in tune with the radio, and he spun the wildest of lies as he answered all of Eric Whalley's questions regarding his fellow classmates of his 'boarding school' –what their names were, sons of that Lord or politician or banker or other, what they wore, how they spoke and such- and how many times he had been canned on the hands or buttocks, as was expected from a British school, and even what his subjects were –History of Magic became History of England, Charms, Transfiguration and Potions morphed into Natural Sciences, Astronomy transformed into Geography, and so on.
And he smacked his lips and licked his fingers with contentment after the feast they had for Christmas Day - roast turkey covered in bacon, with cranberry sauce and roast potatoes, and pigs-in-a-blanket with hot gravy, with a delicious fruity pudding for dessert. Harry had stuffed himself silly and reveled in the feeling of a full tummy.
Kathy Cole had become the Matron years ago, but her cooking skills were unparalleled and she still took pleasure in exercising them for Christmas Dinner, especially since she saved money during the whole year in order to give the children at least one full meal at Christmas.
Harry thought that not even Hogwarts' food could compare to her Christmas cooking, so suffused he was with the lively, festive, affectionate mood of the orphanage.
And after that, he had happily hoarded the candies from the grey sock they gave him, and he had flushed and beamed and smiled when he had been given a Christmas present, for which all the caregivers had pitched in.
Kathy Cole, Alice, and Magda had bought the balls of yarn of some pricey kind of wool which was so very warm and soft, and Karen had made use of her knitting skills and had woven a jersey for him.
"It's emerald green, see?" had said Karen proudly when Harry had joyfully put the jersey on, marveled. It was the nicest piece of clothing he had ever seen. "To match your eyes." She then handed over another brightly wrapped up box, as she added, now quietly, "Your brother's is midnight blue. Like his eyes, too. Will you give it to him?"
Harry had nodded and taken the gift, his smile wilting a bit. Indeed, the one thing that had dampened his spirits had been his brother's attitude. Tom had refused to take part of the celebrations. The boy hadn't even attended Christmas Dinner.
"Everyone here is nothing but a muggle," Tom had sneered with revolted contempt when Harry had been attempting to persuade him to leave their bedroom and come down with him, to join the rest. "They're worthless and insignificant. I have no wish to be around them. It's unbearable."
"Suit yourself," Harry bit out crisply. "Just stay here and sulk and brood while I have fun with 'the muggles', then."
"I won't be sulking," drawled Tom arrogantly. "I can't do magic but that doesn't mean I can't read magical books." He gestured at his trunk and smirked self-complacently.
Harry had merely shot him a disgusted look before he left, loudly slamming the door shut behind him.
Tom was missing from the festivities, but at least his absence had been filled by the one person outside the orphanage who had been invited to spend Christmas with them.
With much interest, Harry had closely observed Robert Hutchins. After all, that day when they had gone to King's Cross Station with Alice and Bob in order to take the Hogwarts Express, his brother had told him a load of surprising revelations.
Thus, wanting to confirm Tom's words, Harry had watched how Robert Hutchins seemed to be very attentive to Alice, solicitously refilling her glass of punch, gently touching her arm as he spoke to her, seating himself right next to her during Christmas Dinner, whispering things into her ear, gallantly asking her to dance with him when the radio played a slow-paced, mellifluous tune… and all the while, Alice blushed and looked flustered, but also beamed and smiled and softly laughed with much joy.
Was that how grown-ups who fancied each other behaved? Harry certainly wasn't an expert on the matter. He knew he was quite clueless in that regard, in fact. But perhaps Tom was right and Robert Hutchins had every intention of popping the question soon.
The other caregivers certainly seemed to believe it. Magda and Karen had kept shooting glances at Robert and Alice, whispering amongst themselves, giggling, while Kathy Cole merely sighed now and then, looking as if she had given up on the whole matter and had simply decided to allow it to happen.
It left Harry feeling exultant and deeply cheerful. If his two favorite people on the whole world got together, it would be fantastic. Especially because Tom had said that Alice and Robert wanted to adopt them after they got married. And even if they were currently trying to find their father, Harry could think of no one else he rather have as parents than Alice and Bob.
Nevertheless, even when his mind had been filled with dreamy possibilities of his life with Alice and Hutchins, he hadn't forgotten his plan.
Thus, that night, when Robert gave his farewells and went to fetch his coat and bowler hat from the hanger at the entrance of the house, Harry made his move.
"Wait!" he called out, just as the man was opening the front door.
"Yes?" said Hutchins gently, one hand on the door as he wrapped a scarf around his neck with the other. "What is it, little fellow?"
"I wanted to ask a favor from you," said Harry slowly, as he quickly thought of a way to explain his request. "Um, Tom and I have to work on an essay during the holidays. It's for our History of England class."
Hutchins quirked an eyebrow. "I see. Do you want me to help you with it?"
"Er, no," said Harry, before he sighed. "Well, yes, in a way. We need to go to a library." He shuffled his feet, nervously. "And we were hoping that you could take us to one. If it's not asking too much."
"Certainly," said Hutchins, smiling warmly at him. "I'll be glad to take you anywhere you want." He paused, a pensive expression spreading over his face. "If you need to go to a library, we could go after New Year's Eve. By then, they'll be open again." He shot him an inquisitive look. "Or do you need to go sooner-"
"No, that's perfect," said Harry beaming. "Thanks!"
"Good, then. We'll make plans in your birthday," said Hutchins, before he waved a hand in parting. "Cheerio!"
Vastly satisfied, Harry had proceeded to enjoy the following week at the fullest, particularly the day of his and Tom's birthday. As always, it was celebrated along with the end of the year, with cone paper hats and trumpets, and a huge chocolate cake that Alice had baked especially for him, knowing it was his favorite.
He had even managed to convince his brother to attend and participate. Though he knew Tom had only agreed because of the presents. Indeed, Robert Hutchins gave the boy a ton of new books, while Harry got from the man a wonderful aircraft model, of one type the Germans had invented and used in the Great War. From the caregivers, they received new second-hand clothes, which were much needed since Tom had grown up quite a bit and Harry's old clothes were too tattered from rips that had been mended too many times.
It was after a whole day of cheer, games, and fun -for Harry, that is- when he received an unexpected surprise when they were in their room, about to get ready for a night of sleep.
Tom was on his bed, with Nagini on his lap -petting her, since the snake had finally forgiven the boy just the other day- while he flipped through his new books with the other hand.
Harry, for his part, was happily playing with his airplane. So it was him who first heard and noticed something rapping against their window.
Carefully leaving his treasured new toy on the bed, he stood up to see an enormous bird impatiently tapping on the glass with its beak.
In a moment, he opened the window and the bird quickly flew inside, dropping a basket on Harry's bed. The owl looked as intimidating and vicious as Tom's Lord Horkos, and after dropping his package, he seemed to shoot his surroundings a disgusted look before swiftly flying away.
Nonplussed, Harry blinked.
"What's that?" demanded Tom, closing a book shut as his gaze zeroed in on the basket on Harry's bed.
"Haven't the foggiest," said Harry, utterly puzzled as he approached it.
He had just flicked the lid of the basket open when something dashed out from it, so fast that it was nothing but a blur to his eyes.
Then, he stared at the tiny thing crouching on his bed. It could fit in an adult's hand, and at first, it looked like a kitten, with dark grey fur and eyes of a light grey shade that seemed very familiar to him. Though, as he inspected it closer, Harry saw that it couldn't actually be a kitten. There were some differences. It had no whiskers, the tips of its tiny ears were bent down like a puppy's and its muzzle wasn't flat like a cat's but a bit protruding, like a puppy's as well.
The little creature would look very adorable and beautiful if it wasn't hissing, with its tail puffed and the hairs of its spine standing out, bristling. It looked ready to strike out at the smallest incitement.
"It's a – a…" Harry stuttered, baffled. "Um…"
"Another usurper!" hissed Nagini furiously, uncoiling herself from Tom's lap to threateningly sway from side to side, her yellow gaze fixed on the little creature on the other bed. "I will not share my humans with another beast!"
Just then, as if egged on by her hisses, the little creature seemed to morph. It arched its spine, let out a dangerous hiss that clearly wasn't like a snake's because Harry didn't understand it, and its tail hooked forwards as it changed. A series of clacking sounds issued, like metallic pieces clicking together one after the other, as the tail progressively transformed from base to tip, fur changing to hard husks that snapped together and ended with a stinger. It had become a tail of a scorpion, ready for attack.
"Holy cricket!" Harry exclaimed as he jumped backwards, so shocked they could have knocked him over with a feather.
"What the hell is that!" said Tom in alarm, instantly jumping to his feet and whipping out his wand to aim straight at the creature. His face darkened and his fingers clenched around his wand, as he spat, "It must have been sent to kill us!"
"Kill us?" mumbled Harry disbelievingly, as his surprise started to recede away. He shook his head and shot his brother a look of warning. "You can't use magic, remember!" Then he frowned as he glanced again at the bristling and hissing little creature, noticing its eyes once more.
"Is it not wanted?" hissed Nagini demandingly, her gaze flickering from Tom and him and back. Her tone turned gleeful and giddy as she added, "Can I eat it, then?"
With a sinking feeling in his chest, Harry muttered in a hiss for both Nagini and his brother, "Wait. Do nothing yet."
He inched closer to the basket on his bed, careful not to make any sudden moves. The little creature spat out a hiss and seemed to tense further, but it didn't jump at him or attempt to strike him with its stinger. Thus, Harry slowly peered into the basket. He saw a book there, but more importantly, a scroll of rolled parchment.
He slowly took it out and read it quickly.
Happy Birthday! I didn't forget, see? Oh, so many things have happened during the hols, but I'll get to the point and explain my present.
Remember that I told you Father was negotiating Dorea's marital contract with the Potters? Well, they finally reached an agreement, and Dorea and Charlus announced their engagement during our Wild Hunt Party. We were all so very happy for her. Most of us, that is. Not my vile sister, of course. Walburga got very nasty. Remember all the things I explained?
Well, 'Burga was furious because she doesn't like the Potters and she thinks it's unfair that Dorea isn't paying the Malfoys the bride-debt we owe them, so she went and told Father a bunch of things. All lies, of course!
Dorea wouldn't be so stupid as to lose her maidenhood before she was married. But 'Burga told Father that she had seen Charlus and Dorea doing stuff at Hogwarts… you know what kind of stuff I mean… and Father was very angry and alarmed, so he went and forced Dorea and Charlus to wear the Black Chastity Rings until they got married when they left Hogwarts.
I think it's pointless, because Dorea wouldn't do anything silly, but still, it's an insult, you see? It made people wonder and gossip. And that kind of thing isn't good, even when I understand that Father did it because he wanted to protect Dorea.
Anyway, it was all my sister's fault. Charlus thought the whole affair was very funny. He took a glance at the Chastity Rings and laughed, putting them on their fingers while he made a speech. It was quite good and it served to restore their good reputation, but still, Dorea was furious at Walburga.
But clearly, Aunt 'Rea couldn't do anything in retaliation to 'Burga, because if not Father would have suspected that my sister's lies were true, so I did, instead.
That night I slipped into Walburga's bedroom. She sleeps like a Mountain Troll, nothing can wake her up, so it was very easy and so much fun! I used my collection of magical, venomous beetles and let them run amok inside her bed. And I used a Balding Brew from our Potions Storage and spread it on her hair – there's no way to reverse that by magic, you know?
It was fantastic! Fifteen minutes after I left, her screams woke up the whole house. We all rushed to her bedroom and saw her covered with boils and rashes caused by the beetles that were climbing all over her, and with her head completely bald! She will have to let it grow back naturally!
She was furious, and of course that they all knew it had been me, and Walburga was quick to accuse me, but it was so worth it! I even took a picture of her. I'll show it to you when we're back at Hogwarts. You'll laugh so hard, just like I do every time I glance at it!
Anyway, Walburga wanted retribution, as I had anticipated. But I hadn't expected she would do something so vile. She had been trying to convince Mother to kill my crup for ages, and I handed over the perfect excuse. Apparently, what I did to 'Burga was the last straw, according to Mother. I knew then that they were plotting to murder my crup for real, this time.
I will miss him terribly, but I rather he's with you and alive than with me and dead. You'll love him! And you can take him with you to Hogwarts too. Walburga might suspect but he'll be different, so she'll have no evidence that he was my crup.
I just told them that I let him go. And you'll have to say that your muggle parents bought him for you, from the pet store in Knockturn Alley, Beasts & Vermin.
I've sent a book that explains everything about his kind. I severed the magical link that bound him as my familiar, so to make him yours, you just have to give him your finger. Then, you'll see what I mean about 'Burga not being able to tell if he was my crup or not.
Oh, give him a new name too!
Your best friend,
Alphard Black
Harry blinked and he shot a bewildered look at the little creature on his bed. "It's a crup, apparently."
"That's no crup!" hissed out Tom angrily, wand still pointing forward. "I've read about them and seen pictures. They look like a Jack Russell terrier with forked tail - not like a kitten with a scorpion's tail!" His dark blue eyes then narrowed on the scroll of parchment in Harry's hands, as he demanded sharply, "Who wrote to you? Who has sent this?"
"Um... well…." Harry trailed off, blanching.
Evidently, his secret friend hadn't thought about Tom when sending him the crup. Perhaps Alphard thought that his brother and him had separate bedrooms and thus that he would have the chance to tell his 'muggle parents' to lie to Tom about where the crup came from.
"Never mind about that," he finally said loftily, as he approached the creature. He was quite nervous at first, as the little thing kept bristling and spitting out hisses, its scorpion tail swinging forward from side to side.
Arming himself with valor, he bit his bottom lip as he presented a finger, just like Alphard's letter had said.
The little creature cocked its head to a side and then tentatively sniffed at it. Expecting the worse, Harry tensed, but the crup then licked his finger, and for a moment Harry thought the little creature was thinking matters over, as if trying to decide if he was worthy or not.
In the next second, Harry felt a stabbing pain and winced as the little creature sank its tiny fangs in his finger pad. It all happened in an instant: the crup's tail changed back, its dark grey fur became pitch black, its eyes went from light grey to bright green just like Harry's, and it purred loudly as it kept licking Harry's finger, looking up at him with big, glowing cat-like eyes.
"Well," said Harry sighing with relief. "He's not dangerous anymore." He chuckled happily as the crup kept purring and licking him, now looking like an innocent, cuddly little kitten. Harry smiled down at it as he tilted his head to a side. "I wonder what name I should give you."
"Give me that!"
"No – wait!" Harry shouted as Tom ripped the letter from his hand. "It's private – it's mine – you've got no right!"
He furiously attempted to get it back from his brother, but Tom was having none of it. Harry was brusquely shoved away as Tom started reading, his expression turning darker and angrier with every passing second.
"What's this?" snarled Tom the moment he finished, waving the piece of parchment in front of Harry's nose. "Alphard Black – 'your best friend'? Since when!"
"None of your bloody business," snapped Harry angrily, his eyes narrowing.
"You better start explaining, little brother," said Tom in a dangerously low tone of voice, his expression looking murderous. "I was under the impression that you didn't have any contact with him after the way he ignored you in the Hogwarts Express, when we were kicked out of their compartment!"
Harry crossed his arms over his small chest and glared. "Well, you were wrong."
"Explain!" commanded Tom harshly.
Harry gritted his teeth but in the end saw no way around it, so he fully revealed all matters regarding how he had ended up being 'secret friends' with Alphard Black.
"So," bit out Tom when Harry finished his tale, "Dorea Black persuaded you to give her nephew another chance. The Comet 180 you use during your secret Quidditch practices isn't Dorea's, as you told me, but Alphard's. And the pouch of galleons you gave me to buy potions ingredients isn't Dorea's but Alphard's as well." His eyes narrowed to slits, as he added furiously, "You've been friends with him during all these months! And you've been lying to me all this time!"
"So what?" snapped Harry crossly, as he jutted his jaw out.
Looking incensed beyond measure, Tom spat, "You're my brother! You should never lie to me!"
"That's rich coming from you!" scoffed out Harry, glowering darkly. "You keep plenty of secrets from me, I'm sure."
"That's not the point!"
It all got worse from then onwards. They shouted at each other, traded accusations and threats and old resentments, and they were both as furious with each other and as stubborn.
"Fine," said Tom poignantly, in the end, "I will tell no one about your secret little 'friendship'-" he contemptuously sneered the word out "- with Alphard Black." His eyes narrowed, as he added sharply, "But at the very least you'll make full use of it and take advantage of the boy and ask him for certain things I want-"
"I'm not going to take advantage of my friend!" shouted Harry furiously, glaring daggers at his brother.
"You had no compunction in accepting his broom and pouch of galleons," sneered Tom acidly.
Harry stiffened, feeling deeply insulted, as he spat, "That was different! They were gifts and favors from a friend. I was not ripping him off!"
"Same thing," said Tom curtly, waving a hand dismissively. "I've heard about certain books the Blacks have in their library. You'll ask Alphard to borrow them-"
"I will not," bit out Harry angrily. "If you want books, you ask him!"
"See if I don't," snapped Tom, before a devious smirk spread on his lips. "He's your so-called friend and I'm your brother. I'll ask and he'll have no choice but to comply."
Harry snorted loudly at that. "You're an idiot if you think he'll do whatever you want. He's not stupid and he doesn't like you."
"We'll see," snarled Tom, before he threw the letter back to Harry and briskly turned around to reach his bed.
Nagini, who had remained tensed and coiled as if ready to spring upon the new creature in the room, was only pacified when Tom went back to pet her. The little crup, for his part, had been contently licking its paws, clearly no longer finding any threats in the occupants of the room and wholly ignoring the snake that had been furiously hissing at it.
Thus, Harry simply placed the basket on the floor and took the book out, leaning on his pillow as his little crup climbed onto the nook between his neck and shoulder, purring loudly as he gave Harry's neck affectionate, little licks. Amused and already beginning to feel quite fond of the little animal, Harry caressed its black fur as he began to read and inform himself.
The book Alphard had sent was called 'All You Need to Know about the Magnificent Scorcrups', and it explained much and Harry's puzzlement slowly began to vanish.
'Scorcrups' were no ordinary crups but a cross of three magical creatures, especially bred by wizards: of a Crup, inheriting from that breed a deep sense of loyalty and protectiveness towards its owner, being those creatures the best and fiercest of guardians; of a Black Scorpion of the Gobi Desert, having the tail of such creature when sensing a threat or danger, along with the venom in its stinger that was of a magical kind, that could either paralyze its victim or kill in instants, depending on the Scorcrup's sense regarding the degree of danger presented to its owner; and finally, of an Egyptian Kneazle, gaining its 'sleek beauty, figure, and elegance of appearance', along with a sharp, deeply intelligent mind that could understand human mannerisms, breed as they were to be the companions of wizards and witches.
Quite fascinated, Harry went on to discover that his Scorcrup wouldn't grow any bigger. They were always small, a trait inbreed on purpose, so that they could be quick and inconspicuous when protecting its owner. Furthermore, they bonded with their owner through the taste of blood, their coloring of eyes and fur changing to mimic that of its master.
Harry peered at the cat-like eyes that were as green as his, and chuckled as he gently carded his fingers through the little creature's soft, black fur, making it purr even louder.
He then shut the book as he glanced at it again, and mused. "All you need now, to be fully mine, is a name."
He heard a snide scoff coming from Tom's side of the room and wholly ignored it as he kept gazing at his crup with deep affection.
"Oh, I know!" he said joyfully, as he brought up the crup to his face, inquisitively peering at it. "What do you think of 'Ulysses'? Like the muggle warrior of Robert Hutchins' tales. He was real, you know? I found that in a History of Magic book. The man came across all sorts of magical creatures in his travels, like Cyclops, Sirens, Lamias, a six-headed Cerberus, and even the famous sorceress Circe and the enchantress nymph Calypso!"
The little creature licked Harry's nose, and he chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes, then."
That night, he placidly slept with little Ulysses nuzzling and snuggling his neck, feeling vastly content with his new familiar. He owed Alphard Black a big one.
At first, Harry had been a bit concerned about going around the orphanage with his Scorcrup, but the book had said that the little creatures didn't do well in small enclosures and so Harry had decided it was best to take Ulysses out of his bedroom.
He had been a mite apprehensive, since if the crup suddenly decided there was a threat to him, its tail would change into a scorpion's, and how would he explain that?
Nevertheless, the book had said that Scorcrups were very intelligent and could somehow understand its owners, thus Harry had talked to Ulysses at length, giving him firm instructions of how to behave.
Tom had said nothing to that, and Harry had the inkling that his brother was gleefully expecting him to mess things up, surely because it would mean a load of trouble for him and it could end up with him having to get rid of his new pet.
His brother could be nasty and jealous just in such ways. Regardless, Harry had faith in little Ulysses and he took the chance.
The first to see them was Kathy Cole as she came out of her office. She took one glance at Harry, with Ulysses happily perched on his head, and the Matron grumbled under her breath, "… orphanage's turning into a zoo…. I'll have a word with Alice about bringing in strays all the time… I'll have to put my foot down… "
Harry had inwardly grinned at that, giving the Matron a cheery wave of the hand. It perfectly suited his purpose: that Ulysses was some stray he had found on the streets was the perfect excuse.
Furthermore, his friends had mostly loved the little 'kitten', and Ulysses had behaved admirably, allowing himself to be petted and pawed at without complain, merely purring contently and licking cheeks.
"He's so adorable!" Amy Benson gushed as she took Ulysses into her arms and snuggled her face on his soft fur.
"He's nice, I suppose," said Eric Whalley, squinting at the Scorcrup. "But he looks a bit weird, doesn't he? Must be from a cross with some strange cat, with those funny ears and no whiskers…" The boy shot Billy a glance, and added tartly, "At least he's better than Puff, that's for sure."
"Shut it," grumbled Billy Stubbs, though his voice lacked force. He looked mournful and dejected. Having given up on his unruly cat by then, the boy had stopped looking for it and had left the vicious Puff in peace. He had been sniffling and moping around for days, due to that.
Inevitably, Billy brightened in the next second and extended his arms towards Amy, as he urged, "Give it here. You had him long enough."
A brief quarrel ensued between boy and girl, which quickly ended with Billy lovingly cradling Ulysses and softly cooing at him, while Harry watched with an amused and satisfied grin on his face.
After that, he happily went around the house with Ulysses on him at all times. The little creature had a distinct preference for either sitting on his left shoulder or lying on his head. And no matter how much Harry moved around, shrugged or bobbed his head up and down, the Scorcrup seemed secured on his place of choice and effortlessly hanged on. Harry didn't know how the little creature managed that, because he was never clawed at.
"Must confuse your scarecrow's hair with a nest," Tom had remarked snidely at the sight.
The only other one who wasn't happy with the new arrangements was Nagini. She was a very possessive little snake, and after Lord Horkos, the appearance of yet another pet hadn't pleased her one bit.
Harry had tried to explain, but in the end it was Ulysses who had resolved the matter. Every time Nagini viciously hissed at the little Scorcrup and made an attempt to strike, Ulysses had been quick to change his tail into his lethal, hooked one.
He did just that: no hissing, bristling, or spitting, just the flash of a tail of a scorpion and Nagini was wise enough to clamp her maws shut and back off. Oh, she grumbled much and complained and demanded to be petted even more, yet she began to wholly ignore the 'new usurper'. She had a very developed instinct of self-preservation, that one.
It was just three days before they had to return to Hogwarts that Robert Hutchins finally turned up in his motorwagon. As they had planned in secret during New Year's Eve, Harry had been prepared for the expedition. He had warned his brother and managed to cajole him into wearing the jersey Karen had knitted for him, along with the pants they had been given for their birthday.
Harry himself was proudly wearing his green jersey and his new pair of second-hand knickerbockers, along with cap on head and Slytherin scarf around the neck – he didn't have anything nicer than that.
"You'll have to dress smartly," Hutchins had pointed out. "I'll be taking you to the best public library there is in London, and we'll all have to be in our best or we'll be kicked out."
Robert Hutchins was quite the picture himself. Harry had never seen the man with anything other than working clothes. It was quite a change to see him in suit and tie, no stubble along the jaw and with hair neatly groomed.
He had the feeling that if Alice had been there, she would have flushed at the sight of the man. Thankfully, she wasn't, because Harry had asked Bob to keep their little trip to the library a secret, because if Tom and he were successful, he knew what it would lead to and he didn't want to hurt Alice's feelings.
Hutchins hadn't pressed him about his need for secrecy. The muggle was nice and respectful in that way, and he had merely winked conspiratorially and ruffled Harry's hair.
Thus, with no observers lurking from the windows of the orphanage –Alice being too busy with taking care of the laundry- Harry was quick to pipe in excitedly as soon as his eyes landed on the motorwagon, "Can I drive?"
"Sure thing," said Hutchins, grinning like mischievous little boy himself. "Let's hop on."
And thus, they made their way to central London, with Harry beaming as he sat on Bob's lap, since he didn't reach the pedals and needed the man for that, but the wheel was all his and Hutchins aided him with making the shifts with the stick. Tom merely sat at the passenger's seat, scowling in silence as Harry fully enjoyed himself and honked all the way out of their neighborhood.
That little trip would trigger a series of events that would end by shocking him deeply, leaving him wholly unprepared for it. Harry would later look back at that day as the moment when it had all truly began for him, and he would rue it, because if he had known the consequences, he would have never gone into that thrice-be-damned library.