My thanks to those who faved/followed/reviewed the story~ Chapter Three is here! Hope you enjoy it~!
Pairings: Potential Hadria (FemHarry) x Tom Riddle, but more platonic than romantic, other pairings undecided.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
Beta: Happyfish
Chapter Three: Harriet Potter
"Aequa lege necessitas sortitur insignes et imos." Fate, by an impartial law, is allotted both to the conspicuous and the obscure. — Quintus Horatius Flaccus
"Put me down!" Harriet demanded for the fifth time that morning. "I can walk on my own!"
She was currently being carried in the arms of the strange man she met in the forest. Thankfully, it wasn't bridal style, but still. She didn't know him, sure she'd ask for his help, but this was too strange. She still didn't know who he was or what he was. He seemed to be able to do Freaky things like her, and he had a wand, like in those fairy tales (except that in fairy tales, it's usually a witch or fairy godmother that uses M... except maybe Merlin?) But she still didn't know his name or what he had been in the forest for. It didn't seem like the kind of forest anyone would go to willingly. She should have known better than to talk to strangers...
Oh no. What if he was one of those who practiced black M? Like in those TV shows? And perhaps he really did summon me and had lied or something. Maybe he's gonna sacrifice me to some higher demon? Or use my blood or my arms and legs or maybe he's gonna steal my soul! Harriet started to panic internally. Oh she should have known! This was another lesson for Harriet to learn, provided this man didn't end up selling her heart to Baba Yaga Bony-legs or some wicked stepmother witch.
Be careful for what you wish for, she thought darkly to herself.
Harriet looked around, contemplating ways to escape her predicament. They were walking around some sort of village or small town, with trees all around them and they seemed to be heading up a hill, towards a large house that could be a mansion or a manor... Harriet didn't know what the difference was. The village was quiet, as the morning was still very early, and the sun had yet to rise, the sky was a dusky indigo. There was a soft barking of dogs, and the soft footsteps of her kidnapper, who had been ignoring her since he began carrying her. Nothing else disturbed the silence. Her yelling didn't seem to help anything either.
It was just her, a scrawny five-year-old girl, against him, a young man, probably in his late twenties or early thirties. The thing was he didn't look like the sort to eat children or sacrifice them to demons in rituals. Or sell them in the black market for slaves or...
Crap. Maybe he was the owner of some large business that involved selling little kids to adults who... Harriet shuddered. Aunt Petunia had threatened her about it once, when the usual Orphanage threats didn't work. She didn't want to ever hear or think about it again.
But he looked nice. (And he had an interesting accent, very slight, but Harriet thought it sounded quite cool all the same.) That was the thing.
The man had short golden hair that shone like waves of honey under old street lamps, a little wild, certainly less messy than hers, but his looked... nice. And he had blue eyes. Like the sky, she thought. Because like the sky, his eyes seemed to change colour. First it was a silvery blue, like ice, but warmer. Then it was a deeper blue, like the sea in summer. Not that Harriet knew what the sea was like. She'd only seen them in books and magazines before. After all, the Dursley's couldn't very well bring their Freak niece along whether they went to the beach. No. Instead, she was always stuck with Mrs. Figgs and her cats.
Harriet sighed. She was going to miss those cats.
Her stomach growled softly. She sighed again. She definitely wasn't going to miss those days stuck in her cupboard without food... But what if the man decided to keep her in a cage before doing whatever he wanted with her? She dearly hoped that he'd perhaps sell her to the witch in Hansel and Gretel. At least she'd get good food to eat then, even if she was going to be eaten later. But she was a girl, so maybe she would be Gretel, and be forced to do chores. Again.
"Mister, can you at least tell me why you'r kidnappin' me?" Harriet complained. "I'd like to know if I'm gonna be eaten or somethin'? Or are you gonna sell my heart or take my soul or sacrifice me—"
"What in the name of Morgana are you talking about?" the man exclaimed. Harriet thought it was about time he talked about anything, but she didn't say that.
"Your reason," she said instead. "For kidnappin' me."
The man didn't reply immediately, humming away as he continued walking long loping strides, and just as she thought he was going to give her the silent treatment again, he said, with a slight smirk, "For some entertainment."
Harriet all but shrieked in panic, and the man did some Freaky thing with his wand and the struggling girl found that she could no longer move. Magic, he'd called it. The M-word that was a taboo to say in the house of Dursley's.
"Calm down! What's wrong with you?" he demanded. "And don't shout like that. You're yelling into my ear."
"You're a horrible horrible person!" Harriet snapped at the suddenly annoyed and bewildered man. "Aunt Petunia said so! Only bad men like you will kidnap little children like me for entanter… entertainment!"
The man rearranged her in his arms and she found herself staring right into blue eyes wide with shock? Surprise? Disgust? She couldn't tell. All she saw was a glimpse of summer sky... She blinked and shook her head, and realized that his magic had released her and her body was responding to her commands again.
"You thought..." the man started, spluttered, stopped. And said, in a tone that Aunt used when gossiping about some neighbor or about the Freak (scandalised, a long word, Harriet was proud to remember), "I didn't mean that kind of entertainment! And even then, I was only kidding! I seriously have no idea what to do with you. I don't even know why I took you with me."
The man sounded frustrated by the end of it, and Harriet felt quite contrite. Her face was burning with the mistake she made. If the man was indeed a good man who was as nice as he looked, then she probably ruined whatever chances she had with him, if she had any in the first place. Accusing people like that after jumping conclusions! What had she been thinking? And the poor guy had no idea what to do with her. Even though he was evidently a Freak like her.
Aunt Petunia was right, Harriet mused, If even a fellow Freak doesn't want me.
He had made it quite clear before she asked him to take her home earlier. Yet he had kidnapped her. Though perhaps kidnap wasn't the right word, if he was kind enough to take her with him to wherever he was going. She couldn't understand why he would do it though.
Conscience, perhaps? Harriet wondered. The strange Annoying Voice that tells you to do things you don't want to do, or not to do things you want to do?
Her conscience had become softer over the months since she discovered it. She wasn't too worried. But this man's conscience must be quite loud if it could convince him to bring along an extra person along with him for something she was quite sure she'd only be a burden for. No one ever brought her out of the country after all. Not even out of town.
"Henrietta, are you crying?"
Harriet stared at the man whose expression seemed torn between concern and aghast. She blinked owlishly.
"No... Why would I be cryin'? Cryin's for babies. I'm five," she said, confused. Where did he get such an idea from? Because crying would also imply sadness or pain. Or maybe happiness. Harriet was quite sure she saw Mrs.-Number-Two cry and laugh at the same time when Mr.-Number-Two came home one day with flowers for her, after disappearing to who knows where for a year. In any case, Harriet thought she would know if she were feeling sad or in pain or happy.
"Five? Yes, you must be five... I thought you were four, you know. You're too small and skinny," the man commented tonelessly. He paused. "So you're not crying. That's... good. But you're upset. You know, I'm really not going to use you as entertainment."
"I know. I think...? An' I'm not upset," Harriet protested. She thought about Dudley. When Dudley was upset, he threw tantrums. She was quite sure she wasn't acting like him. She didn't like the idea of that. She was above feeling upset, thank you very much.
"An' my name's Harriet. Not Heri… Hanri… Henrietta," Harriet added, recalling what the man had called earlier.
The man sighed. "You're upset. Why do you insist otherwise? Your expression says it all. And I know you are Harriet. But I don't like that name. It's too boring."
"I'm not upset!" Harriet exclaimed petulantly. "An' how d'you knows my name? I dun think I've intru… introduced myself before! An' you haven' told me your name. You… You dun have the right to make my name longer jus' 'cuz it's boring!"
"Yes, you are. You're being childish about it. And I know your name because... because of magic," the man said almost carefully. "You can call me Gerwald. Gerwald Grinsen. What would you like me to call you?"
"You're arguin' with a five-year-old, Mister Gerwald. Who's childish?" Harriet retorted with the intellect one develops when there is nothing more exciting to do in the house than listening to women gossiping over tea. "You can call me anythin' you want but it must be a short name that's easy to say."
The man fell silent, a scowl on his handsome face. Then he said, "Hadria. You can be Hadria. Now tell me what's upsetting you."
"I forgot," Harriet said dismissively. Hadria. She liked it. It sounded more interesting than Harriet, but wasn't a mouthful to say. It would be nice if she could just change her name like that.
Then her stomach grumbled louder than before. Harriet flushed and Gerwald looked at her oddly.
"Hungry? We're reaching," he said as he walked up to a pair of black iron-wrought gates that looked rather intimidating with its spikes and celtic knots, surrounded by high walls covered in ivy.
The heavy gates swung opened by themselves the moment Gerwald drew near. Behind the gates was the mansion Harriet saw earlier. It was quite a grand building with brick walls of cream and red, and white pillars, and tiled roofs of smoky gray-blue. There were gargoyles and statues, and gardens with fountains. Gerwald must either be very rich or have very rich friends, Harriet thought her eyes wide with awe.
"What would you like to eat, Hadria?" Gerwald asked while carrying her through the front gardens towards the stairs leading up to the main doors.
"What...? I... dunno?" Harriet replied with a slight frown.
"What do you usually have for breakfast then?"
"... Um. Bread?"
"Please be more specific. French toast? Sourdough with jam? Rolls and butter? Bagels with cream cheese? Or even sliced toast with eggs and bacon?"
Harriet mumbled something barely audible and Gerwald halted in his steps, turning to frown at her. She wasn't meeting his eyes.
"Pardon?"
"Burn' toast?" Harriet tried again. The man's face was expressionless as he turned away and muttered something under his breath.
"Kochy," Gerwald called out and a funny little creature appeared before them with a loud pop. It had big bat-like ears and large tennis-ball eyes. Its small spindly body was covered in what looked like a tiny winding sheet. Alarmed, Harriet scrambled in Gerwald's arms to create as much distance as she could from that thing. Spiders? They were cute. Snakes? Wonderful to chat with. Centipedes? Nasty creatures to be killed. But what was this?
"Master! Master is home! What can Kochy do for Master?" The Thing said, and Harriet could only think, It spoke!
"Kochy," Gerwald was saying. "Prepare breakfast for us. Ham, sausages, omelet fried with cheese, onions and tomatoes, buttered toast and rolls, with some coffee and cocoa."
Kochy the Thing bowed and disappeared with a pop.
"That was a house elf," Gerwald explained to Harriet. "He's not the only one around here. Their usual job is to clean the place, do the laundry, prepare meals, and tend the gardens... Whatever their master requires of them. They have their own magic to help them do their chores."
It only made Harriet panic internally: If this man who could use magic and other Freaky stuff, had servants who could do any chores with magic, then... it means my only use will be gone! I'm useless compared to these creatures! So... what will he do with me?
Good person. He's a good person. A good person, Harriet chanted to herself, trying to keep herself from imagining the worst things he could use her for.
"Mädchy, prepare the Second bedroom for Hadria. She'll be staying with us for the week," Gerwald was addressing another house elf that he had called. The little creature stared at Harriet before grinning widely and clapping her hands.
"Has Master finally brought home an Heiress? Mädchy is glad. Very glad. Mädchy will prepare Second bedroom for Miss Hadria!"
The house elf clapped again and disappeared. Harriet stared at the spot the elf had vacated, confused.
"Mister Gerwald?"
"I've decided to adopt you. Unless you object?" Gerwald calmly said and she gaped.
"Adopt?"
"Yes. Adopt. Of course, we could just treat this as a kidnapping, and save a lot of paperwork to be done, but if Dumbledore finds out that his Girl-Who-Lived has disappeared, and he probably will, he will start a manhunt for you. Then when you finally turn eleven, going to Hogwarts would be too troublesome and I might just send you to Durmstrang instead. But I think you should go Hogwarts instead. Not sure what'll happen otherwise..."
"Won't that make me your kid?" Harriet couldn't really understand most of what he said, and the parts she did understand made little sense. This was becoming too good to be true. After all, parents don't sacrifice their children to demons in rituals... Right?
"Yes. And while I'm hardly one for any form of parenting, and I would never imagine myself as a father, the safest way to go about this is for me to legally adopt you. We'll treat me as your guardian, or mentor, if the whole father-and-daughter thing becomes too much for either of us to stomach."
"THANK YOU!" Harriet exclaimed and hugged the strange man.
It did occur to her that this was very odd and typically wouldn't happen to anyone else. And if she had been a little older, a little more pampered or a little more aware of the Wizarding world, she would have been more wary and reluctant to simply accept this strange man she met in the woods as her new guardian. But it was also her birthday, and Harriet was feeling more optimistic than usual.
She didn't think about ulterior motives more subtle than those her imagination had supplied earlier, she didn't think he could be much worse than the Dursley's. Later on, she would also realize that it wasn't like she could do anything to stop him anyway.
Two hours later, Gerwald had sent for the paperwork needed to be done to adopt Harriet, with as little fuss as possible, with the help of some German Ministry wizards, a few goblins and a bit of gold.
"We're going to visit the Dursleys," Gerwald announced as he filed the papers he had finished signing, and looked up to see Harriet openly staring at him.
She was seated on a tall chair at the desk on the opposite side of him, swinging her short legs every now and then, but careful not to kick the desk. Before her was a mess of scrap paper, all of them filled with scrawly loopy words and ink blotches. She had tried to create a signature for herself, but failed miserably and gave up half-an-hour ago, and had decided to observe the strange man before her instead.
"We'll need to teach you calligraphy someday," Gerwald said absently, as he looked over her horrible writing, though that may be because it was her first time using a quill.
"Okay," Harriet agreed obligingly.
Gerwald then took her hand and helped her off the tall chair. He carried her, ignoring her protests, out of the manor and beyond the gates, and Harriet felt that uncomfortable squeezing sensation before her dizzy vision cleared.
She found herself staring at the neat rows of houses in Little Whinging.
"What was that?" Harriet asked, now that her mind was quite sure there wasn't anything else more urgent than figuring out this strange jumping to ordinarily-unreachable-by-jumping places thing.
"Apparition. It's a magical form of transportation that involves disappearing from one place and appearing in another in the span of a second," Gerwald explained.
"Can you apperite anywhere then?" It sounded very useful to Harriet.
"Apparate. Not apperite. And no. Some places have wards—magical protections—that prevent apparition. My-Our manor is one such place," Gerwald said as he brought them into Privet Drive.
"Then why didn't you uh apparate to the manor? Outside the manor. Earlier. When you first kidnapped me. It'd have saved all the walking."
"Oh. I needed the time I spent carrying you and walking to figure out what to do with you. Now, why don't you ring the doorbell?"
They had reached, and were standing at the doorstep of Number Four. The car was not there, so it could be assumed that Uncle Vernon was at work. Harriet hesitated.
"You sure this is a good idea? Aunt Petunia can be very scary when she's angry."
Gerwald grinned, amused. "I'm a wizard, Hadria. That means I practice magic and I'm quite good at it. Your Muggle—non-magical—relatives can't hurt me."
Harriet reluctantly rang the doorbell.
There was a loud thumping of heavy footsteps, and unintelligible voices shouting before the door swung open. Standing before them was a short boy—short, but still evidently taller than Harriet—who looked quite fat. Dudley scowled when he saw Harriet.
"MOMMY! Freaky's back!" Dudley hollered over his shoulder and Aunt Petunia came into view as she came down the stairs and into the hallway.
"Oh," she said when she saw Harriet and Gerwald, her face turning a funny patchy shade of purple and red. "Harriet! Oh, I'm so sorry. Did you find her? She must have run away in the night. So sorry to have inconvenienced you. Thanks for retur—"
"Petunia Dursley, I'm not here to return Hadria," Gerwald interrupted coldly and passed her a file. "I'm adopting her. These are the papers you need to sign to pass the guardianship over to me. Sign them, and we'll be on our way. You won't need to bother about her anymore."
Harriet noted that Aunt Petunia paled rapidly, as she stared at the papers in the file. Her hands were shaking.
"But… But that old wizard—Dumbel-something, he… I promised—"
"And what did Dumbledore say?"
Harriet turned to look at Gerwald, startled by the odd combination of venom and honey in his voice. His face was blank, expressionless, but his eyes looked like they had frozen blue flames. And for the first time since she met him, she felt fear.
Not the same kind of high-alarm or freeze-don't-move-don't-attract-attention feeling she got when Uncle Vernon was in a horribly bad mood. Not the same kind of panicky feeling she got when wondering if he was going to sell her, eat her or sacrifice her. No, this was a strange and almost irrational fear. The feeling of wanting to run far far away without looking back, to scream in an attempt to release the emotion in her chest-the emotion that made her heart crash too loudly against a ribcage that suddenly felt too fragile, all without really knowing why, except that he felt dangerous. He hadn't even done anything yet, he wasn't even frowning.
But Aunt Petunia must have felt it too, because she stammered incoherently and for a while she looked like she desperately wanted to slam the door shut and hide in her room, before she finally said, "H-he left her. On the do-doorstep. Wi-with a l-letter. That's all. I-it was four y-years ago. N-never seen h-him since. W-wait here."
Then she left, scrambled away like a frightened colt, skinny and awkward and nearly tripping up the stairs, leaving a very white and paralyzed Dudley at the door. She was back soon, clutching a crumpled piece of paper along with the file of documents that Gerwald had given her.
"Here," she whispered and thrust the crumpled paper at them. Gerwald took the paper with one hand and read the cursive writing on it. Harriet tried to read it too, but she couldn't distinguish the curly joint-up letters into words. Whatever it was though, it seemed to make Gerwald even angrier, the arm carrying Harriet tightening uncomfortably.
"So. He left Hadria on your doorstep on a cold November morning, with nothing but this letter?"
"Wra-wrapped and b-bundled in a blanket. Y-yes."
"Not even a basket?" Soft words edged with mild prickles of static electricity, the breeze heralding thunder.
Aunt Petunia nodded a jerky motion. "N-no basket."
Gerwald seemed to consider this for a moment, and smiled almost jovially, eyes still cold and bright as a winter sunrise, his voice lilting, "Well, it's too late for you to take her back now. Hadria no longer considers this place as 'home'. The blood wards have fallen. Best for you to just sign the papers. I doubt Albus will harm you just because you decided to rid yourself of the burden he dumped onto you. He's gone quite soft... Not that he ever had much of a stomach for cruelty."
Aunt Petunia, accepting what he said, and instinctively understanding that the wizard before her was very very dangerous, signed the documents quickly, barely reading what they contained. She hesitated, just before she handed the papers back to Gerwald.
"Y-you won't h-harm her. Will y-you?" she asked tentatively. Harriet's eyes widened. It was the first time her aunt seemed to show and sign of true concern for her.
"No. And I most certainly will be treating her far better than what you have managed," Gerwald replied, his previously almost non-existent accent thickening with his displeasure. Aunt Petunia gulped, nodded and gave him the signed documents. She made another robotic motion, a bit like a bow, muttered a quick "Have a good day" and closed the door.
There was a short moment of silence, as Gerwald and Harriet stared at the closed door.
"Would you like to magically change your name?" Gerwald asked casually, breaking the silence. Harriet started, a little put off-balanced by his sudden change in mood. His blue eyes had warmed considerably.
"I'd like that," she replied shyly. Gerwald smiled at her. It was a comfortable quirk of the lips that was so different yet scarily similar compared to his earlier smile.
"We'll be keeping your surname though. Unless I adopt you magically. But I'm not sure if that's a good idea at this point in time," he said, and carried her away to a point beyond Little Whinging, out of sight of the people there.
"Okay," Harriet said, not really minding it either ways. Gerwald observed her carefully.
"You'll be safe with me and from me, I promise," he said a little awkwardly, when he guessed the reason for her constant fidgeting and the wary look that was still on her face.
Harriet ducked her head ruefully, then looked up and gave him a blinding grin. "Thank you. Again."
Gerwald smirked back and ruffled her hair affectionately. "You're welcome, lil' brat."
((Oh dear, he thought to himself, slightly alarmed. Don't tell me I'm becoming soft as well.))
So how was it?
Gellert Grindelwald/Gerwald Grinsen has now adopted Harriet/Hadria, legally—not magically—and well, things won't be easy for them of course, considering the people involved, but I'll most likely be skimming over the next few years with some 'flashbacks' here and there in the following chapters.
Constructive criticisms are welcome, and supportive reviews are greatly appreciated! You may PM me or leave a message in a review if you have any questions too~ I'll try my best to answer them (unless the answer includes big spoilers).
Next update: By Sunday