AN: Largely a time-skip. Sorry for the long absence.
Chapter six - The final month before school
Minerva McGonagall was an accomplished woman with a fearsome reputation. Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Head of the Transfiguration Department at the school and professor of the same. Known at both the school and in Magical Britain at large as a stern witch with supreme capabilities whom it'd be exceedingly stupid to cross.
As such, it would not be an exaggeration to say that if anyone claimed to see her collapse into a chair with a defeated sigh, they would be laughed out of wherever they were. And yet, that was exactly what Minerva did as she returned to her office.
It was 20 minutes to 11 at night, and she had just gotten back from the Cauldron and the young boy who stayed there. Minerva couldn't believe what she'd seen when she picked him up two days prior, let alone what she'd heard today. If she wasn't intimately familiar with the consequences of such actions, she would have done far worse to the Dursleys than some muggle-baiting.
Muggle-baiting was usually punished lightly, but the use of transfiguration could have far-reaching psychological consequences, even after obliviation, and was thus punished more harshly. As it was, she's only gotten away with a slap on the wrist because of her past in the DMLE, as well as the… surrounding situation involving the Boy-Who-Lived.
Minerva scowled. The boy had been abused, horribly. How Lily Potter, who'd been such a gentle soul and a brilliant witch, had a sister as horrid as Petunia Dursley was beyond Minerva's comprehension. How anyone could sleep at night while treating a child as Harry had been treated…
She let out a slow breath and tried to calm down, aware that her anger had been perilously close to causing an uncontrolled burst of magic. She needed to regain control of herself, she still had to talk to Albus before she could turn in for the night.
She had sent him a note, in his capacity as Chief Warlock, when she had removed Harry from his relatives. He had been sceptical then, but had done as she asked and arranged for her to talk to the DMCP. Now, she was going to tell him the Dursleys had been exactly the kind of muggles she had warned him they were.
She was well aware that Albus had a propensity for secrets and manipulation. She had tolerated it because of who he was and what he had accomplished, despite the fact that many problems in his life could have been rectified by a simple explanation. But this was a step too far, way way too far, for her to tolerate.
If she discovered that any of the abuse Harry had endured, had been planned by Albus…
Albus Dumbledore wasn't so arrogant that he couldn't admit when he had made a mistake. His life was rife with them. His youth with Grindelwald, most of what had happened to his family, Tom Riddle and now, seemingly, the youth of Harry Potter.
He had been somewhat bemused when Minerva had entered his office, straight backed and clearly unhappy with him. She only ever pursed her lips and fiddled with her wand the way she had when she entered, when she was very unhappy with someone but couldn't clearly express it.
Horror, shame and disgust had filled him, as he listened to what Harry had told Minerva earlier today, and was confirmed to Minerva by the oathsworn official from the DMCP. He had known that Petunia disliked the magical world, but he had also known that deep down, she loved and longed for her sister.
He had thought that love would mean that, while Harry would not be loved the same as his cousin, Petunia would do right by her sister's son. As it turned out, he had been horribly wrong.
"This is my fault." The admission hurt him, but nothing else could be true. "I thought Petunia's love for her sister would ensure a proper childhood for Harry, away from his fame and the dangers of Voldemort's remaining followers. It seems I simply placed him in another danger."
Minerva had stopped fiddling with her wand, but neither her lips nor her back relaxed.
"I simply don't understand how you could have missed this, Albus. You told me Harry would be both protected from harm and properly supervised, how could this kind of abuse go unnoticed?"
Albus frowned and steepled his fingers.
"Indeed. I arranged for Arabella Figg to live across from Harry's relatives, but she has told me nothing more worrying than Harry being a little small for his age. I know she can be somewhat flighty, but I impressed upon her the importance of her task and she has taken it seriously. Rest assured I will investigate how she missed this. My main concern, however, is how my wards, linked through Lily's blood-protection, missed this. They should have alerted me to any kind of danger and certainly have prevented this kind of harm from befaling young Harry."
As he spoke, Albus rose and approached a shelf to the direct left of his desk. A multitude of small and intricate silver instruments whirred, bobbed and oscillated as they periodically let out small streams of gleaming golden mist.
Albus considered his instruments carefully, even as Minerva glared lightly at his back. Harry's protection originated from his mothers sacrifice, turned into an incredibly potent magical shield and obscuring effect through an intricate ritual. He, in turn, had utilised the fact that the protection was centred in Harry's blood, to spread that effect to Petunia and her family, in return for them raising Harry. Any who meant harm to Harry, in any form, shouldn't even have been able to approach him, so how had his relativ-
Albus hid his face in his hand. The answer lied in his own actions, again. Because he had spread the protection to the Dursleys, he had created a blind spot in the effect that safeguarded Harry. The protections couldn't cover both Harry and his relatives, while also shielding them from each other, so they would be able to harm Harry, and Harry them, without suffering any of the punishments others would have. He simply hadn't considered the Dursleys a threat, and so it had never occurred to him.
"You've discovered how your wards failed." Minerva was observant as always. Albus turned to her and gave her a grave nod.
"The fault once again lies with me. Because I spread the magic to the entire household, a blind spot in the protections occurred. Harry and his relatives can freely harm one another without repercussions from the blood-protections. Without even considering his abuse, number 4 Privet Drive is not safe simply because the Dursleys can be magically compelled to harm the boy."
Minerva clutched her wand tightly in her hands, her glare growing more intense the more Dumbledore spoke.
"This is unacceptable, Albus. I told you that the Dursleys were the worst kinds of muggles, and you placed him there anyway. Now you tell me the only reason they were able to harm Harry at all, is because you included them in the magic that should have protected him?!"
Albus lowered his head, deeply ashamed. Minerva was entirely right. It had been his decision to leave Harry with the Dursleys, it was his decision to extend the protections to the Dursleys and it was him who had failed to properly check up on Harry.
"You're entirely correct, Minerva. My foolhardiness and arrogance has resulted in Harry living his childhood in abuse. I've failed Lily and James." Albus collapsed into his chair, staring despondently at his hands. How many times must he fail those around him? How many times must he ruin the lives of those he cared about? Those he wished to protect?
On his perch beside the desk, Fawks thrilled quietly, gently lifting the mood of both Albus and Minerva. Truly, he was a blessing Albus did not deserve.
"Albus… I'm not sure what to tell you. You've failed people before, and you will likely fail people again, but this…" Minerva trailed off, but Albus understood. It was difficult to forgive a person who had so failed and endangered a child, regardless of their intentions or past deeds.
"You need not say anything, Minerva. I fully realise how much I have failed young Harry, and every person who trusted me to keep him safe. But I can assure you that I will do everything in my power to ensure that he remains happy and safe from here. Who did you say was nominated by the DMCP to adopt him?"
Minerva still appeared ready to turn him into a mosquito and then squash him, but she acquiesced to his change of topic. Waving her wand, two letters appeared and floated down onto his desk. Albus picked them up, recognising the seal from the Department of Magical Child Protection emblazoned on the front.
"The DMCP found blood relation to Andromeda Tonks and Narcissa Malfoy, through the Black family. The department is arranging for two separate meetings during the first month of school, and one meeting with all three the following month. The DMCP have all but stated that it will be his own choice, and he will be able to freely arrange additional meetings.
He will need to make his choice no later than two weeks before the end of the school year. Personally, I would much prefer he chooses Andromeda. She's a competent witch with good morals and has already raised one child, Nymphadora Tonks, who graduated this summer."
Albus nodded along, agreeing wholeheartedly with Minerva's opinion.
"The boy going to the Malfoy family would be a catastrophe. Lucius Malfoy was all but confirmed to be a willing death eater, despite his claim of the imperious, and I dare not imagine what would befall the boy should he decide on the Malfoy family."
Minerva nodded her agreement, and Albus was about to continue when she interrupted him.
"We cannot force him, Albus, we must not. Harry has no true family in his life, and though I agree that letting him go to the Malfoys would be disastrous, we cannot deprive him of a familial connection. I have something of a rapport with the boy, I will help him make his decision."
Albus looked at her over his half moon glasses, considering her carefully.
"I would never suggest we force Harry one way or another, but we cannot allow the Malfoys to gain custody of him. I fear to imagine what Lucius would subject the boy to, the ramifications alone if he convinced the boy to believe in pureblood dogma… You helping Harry with his decision is likely our wisest cause of action."
Minerva's back stiffened at the thought of a Harry Potter who believed in pureblood supremacy, turning his nose up at every muggle and muggle-born he encountered. She had met Draco Malfoy in Diagon Alley on two occasions over the past few years, and the thought of Harry, who had been so polite and inquisitive despite his ill-fortune, turning into another arrogant, self-obsessed and prejudiced little brat broke her heart.
"I will not force him, but I will do my best to guide him to the best decision for his own sake."
Albus nodded. "Then we are in agreement. We will do all we can to help Harry make a decision he will not come to regret in the future, and prevent him from going to what will surely be an abusive and dishonest family."
"Good, then if you would excuse me, I have these two letters to send before I can turn in for the night."
It was two days after his conversation with Minerva, and Albus stood disillusioned in Diagon Alley, observing Harry Potter. The day after he and his deputy headmistress had discussed how they would help the boy, Minerva had told him of Harry on a more personal level. She had described him as a polite and curious boy, hopeful about the magical world he now found himself in. She had also told him of the familiar Harry had found.
As Albus observed Harry and the winged serpent he had named Suzhen, he couldn't help but smile. He had initially been concerned, worried about the great number of similarities between Harry and his old student, Tom. But they had been assuaged swiftly by the bright young man he had observed going around Diagon Alley.
Currently, Harry was sitting at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, enjoying a three-scoop ice cream and reading an introductory book on duelling, all the while chatting with the familiar hovering over his shoulder. It was a scene entirely at home in the memories of a happy childhood, but Albus could easily see the shadow of abuse hang over the young boy. It showed in the way he carefully stilled himself every time an adult came around his table, and in the way he flinched when Florean, the parlours owner, handed him his ice cream.
It tore at his old heart, to see so clearly the lasting effects of abuse he had been largely responsible for enabling. He could take solace, at least, in the fact that Harry had been removed from his relatives and had found his first true friend. He knew himself the joys of a true familiar.
He was concerned, however, about the origins of the snake-bodied snallygaster. The subspecies was incredibly rare, and her colouration was even more so. Had it simply been coincidence that a trader had been present with her, or was it some deliberate plan to make contact with Harry?
Even if the boy was mostly famous in Britain, the tale of his surviving the killing curse, as well as him destroying the Dark Lord Voldemort, was known the world over. He would not be surprised if some dark wizard or creature had designs on the boy. Albus would not allow some plot to hurt Harry. Not so soon after he had been freed from the Dursleys.
He had spent the day before investigating the shop where the sale had taken place, as despite the boy misremembering the name slightly, it had been easy to find. But the man who had rented the shop was already gone, and any trace of magic in the store had been thoroughly removed.
All he had been able to discover was that the man had allegedly been American and named Oliver. He had rented the shop for 2 weeks and made a number of sales involving rare or valuable creatures, before selling Suzhen to Harry and then packing up and leaving.
The question was, if it had been planned, how had the man known Harry would be in the Alley? A leak in the Ministry? How? And if it was a plot of some kind, why sell the boy a powerful and rare beast as a familiar? Perhaps he was simply being paranoid, going too far down the path of conspiracy in an effort not to repeat his mistake of oversight and neglect?
As he pondered these things, Harry got up from his seat and walked leisurely down the Alley, apparently deciding to do some window shopping. As Albus followed them, still disillusioned, he listened in on their conversation.
Parseltongue was a high pitched, sibilant language, comparable to whistling. In the hustle and bustle of an afternoon in Diagon Alley, it was difficult to hear from a distance, and he was not a natural parselmouth. But he did manage to follow the gist of Harry and Suzhens conversation.
The winged serpent was extolling the virtues of flying, and Harry telling his familiar of the brooms witches and wizards commonly used to fly. They were both very dissatisfied with the ban on brooms the first year students were placed under. Albus chuckled, both humoured and relieved by the somewhat childish dissatisfaction expressed by Harry and his familiar.
Harry sat in his room at the Cauldron, fiddling with his wand. Suzhen was basking in the afternoon sun streaming in through the window, lazy after eating two, rather fat, brown mice. Harry considered the golden-brown length of wood, spinning it slowly between his fingers.
Ever since he'd gotten it, there had been a strange sense of alertness about it, feeling almost like a child getting ready to tattle on him. But it wasn't until mrs. McGonagall had told him about the trace four nights ago, that he'd realised it as foreign to the wand itself.
The trace, a piece of magic covering the whole of the British Isles, detecting and recording every spell cast by a person under 17. And as soon as it did, Harry knew a letter should arrive to tell the person casting a spell that they had violated the Reasonable Restriction for Underage Magic.
Harry frowned at his wand, swishing it through the air slowly and causing a pillow to rise from the bed. Then he waited. Still, no letter arrived. It didn't work on him, or rather, he could make it so it didn't work on him. He had discovered the ability by accident, when he'd been messing around with his wand.
He could feel the trace, the lingering attentiveness, and he could… dissipate it, temporarily. He couldn't explain how, it wasn't a spell like the levitation charm was. It felt more like sending a 'vibrating' wave of magic through his wand, which made the trace dissipate for a few hours. It was still there, but instead of attentive focus, it felt like scattered smoke slowly collecting itself.
Harry had been abusing it to practise spells since he discovered the ability, so far having learned the matchstick-to-needle transfiguration and the levitation charm. He had chosen those two spells first, because he thought levitating a wall of needles and sending them flying through the air sounded both incredibly cool and like a good way to defend himself.
Sadly, it didn't really work. He couldn't reliably transfigure more than two or three needles at once, he had to have matchsticks at the ready and the levitation charm wasn't particularly good at moving the needles through the air quickly. It wasn't exactly the rain of needles he had imagined, but it was good enough to use as a precursor to a rain of steel spears or flying swords.
He was just getting his list of spells to learn for the next one he would start on, when a knock sounded on the door. Frowning, he put the notes down and opened the door. He hadn't been expecting anyone.
"Mrs. McGonagall, hello!" Harry smiled up at the woman, surprised but happy to see her. Beside her stood an older man, with white skin and silver hair. As Harry let them in, he gave the man a quizzical look. His head was bandaged, and he had a peg leg as well as a leg and arm entirely replaced by wooden prosthetics.
"Good afternoon, mr. Potter, this is Silvanus Kettleburn, professor of Care of Magical Creatures at Hogwarts." Kettleburn gave Harry an absentminded nod, focused entirely on Suzhen who had woken up at the sound of voices. She hissed slightly at Kettleburn, before quickly gliding over to coil in the air around Harry's shoulders.
"Yes, hello mr. Potter. Quite the critter you have there. Very rare, very beautiful. Also, very dangerous." Harry gulped, suddenly worried.
"Er, Suzhen wouldn't hurt anybody, sir. She's been around with me in the Alley without causing any trouble." Kettleburn just hummed, his eyes focused on Suzhens wings as they beat slowly to keep her hovering around his shoulders.
"Not to worry, mr. Potter, we're not here to remove your familiar. Professor Kettleburn is simply here to discuss the handling of Suzhen when you get to Hogwarts." Harry gave a sigh of relief at McGonagall's reassurance. His familiar, on the other hand, gave an offended hiss.
"I do not need handling! This Suzhen is entirely capable of handling herself, neither she nor [hearts-treasure] needs help!" The parseltongue was intersped with normal, albeit furious, hissing. The two adults of the room shot glances at each other, as McGonagall sat down by the desk. Kettleburn knelt down, his wooden prosthesis hitting the floor with a dull klunk, as he switched his stare from the winged snake to Harry.
"What's she saying? She seems rather cross with us." The man had laughter in his voice as he asked, which only caused more furious hissing from Suzhen. Harry stared back at him, not sure what to think. He scratched his cheek as he answered.
"Uh, she's pretty angry with what you said, doesn't like that you think she needs to be 'handled' very much." Kettleburn turned to McGonagall and gave her a nod. She gave a nod as well, before speaking.
"Normally, animal companions at Hogwarts are limited to a cat, owl or frog, as they are both excellent practice for true familiars and near totally harmless. Certainly, a class 4 magical creature would be well beyond what could be allowed." Harry heard Suzhen hiss quietly, and felt her coil tighter around him, so he reached up a hand to calm her. They had just told them that they wouldn't remove her from him.
Seeing Suzhen grow more agitated, McGonagall continued quickly.
"However, seeing as you're a parselmouth, and thus able to clearly communicate with and command your familiar, you will be allowed to keep her with you at Hogwarts. Provided that you spend some of your time before school starts with professor Kettleburn here, to both learn how to properly care for her, as well as provide people who study magical creatures new information on her rare subspecies."
Harry nodded along while gently petting Suzhen. That didn't sound too bad. It would mean he couldn't practise his spells as much as he had planned, but that was fine if it meant he could learn more about Suzhen and her care.
"That sounds… fine. I don't really do much besides reading in here and walking around the Alley." Best not to mention he could do magic without tripping the trace. He was sure that would be worse than just doing magic and then getting caught.
"Good, then I have only one last thing before I go. Your first meeting with one of your potential guardians has been arranged two weeks from now. Narcissa Malfoy will be meeting you here, at 2 pm. I've been asked by the DMCP to hand you this letter from her."
McGonagall rose from her chair and waved her wand, causing a letter to appear from this air. When she handed it to Harry, he could see his name written in beautiful penmanship with emerald-green ink. He took it with a 'thank you' and put it in a drawer by the bed, as McGonagall turned to Kettleburn.
"I'll take my leave then, see you back at the school, Silvanus. I'll see you there as well, mr. Potter."
"Yes, see you at Hogwarts, Minerva." As Kettleburn gave an absentminded reply without looking away from Suzhen, Harry smiled and nodded to McGonagall. Both Harry and his familiar were becoming somewhat unnerved by the constant staredown.
"I suppose, mr. Potter, that we should start with what you do know about the snake-bodied snallygaster." Kettleburn started. Harry nodded, but was interrupted by Suzhen.
"This Suzhen would much prefer not to be called that, it sounds most inelegant." The soft complaint was hissed petulantly, and Harry couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped him. Suzhen had a growing fascination with elegance and dignity and clearly didn't appreciate the name for her species.
"Is something funny, mr. Potter?" Kettleburns voice was light and friendly, and Harry barely resisted laughing again.
"Suzhen doesn't like being called a snallygaster. She thinks the name is inelegant." Harry giggled again, as the comment made Suzhen raise her head with clear disdain. Kettleburn gave a small chuckle as well.
"Yes, I can see that. Does she often comment on her preferences? Or the elegance of things?" The last question was accompanied by another small chuckle, which caused Suzhen to make a distinct sniff before flying to the bed and hiding under the covers. Harry smiled, a little guilty at the light teasing.
"She does. Suzhen likes the thought of being elegant, she says it's only right for 'one of her beauty and might!' She's mostly joking, though." Harry smiled, able to hear the embarrassed grumbling coming from beneath his duvets. Kettleburn smiled again as he rose from the floor and moved to sit down at the desk.
"Now, why don't you tell me what you know about snall- Suzhen, and we'll go from there." Harry nodded and moved to his bed's headboard to get comfortable. Suzhen peeked her head out from her hiding place, then snaked herself around his left arm and shoulder.
"I see her wings are gone, is that something she's done before?" Kettleburn asked.
"Yes. She can fold her wings in and they kinda just… grow in close to her body. They're still there, I can feel them, but she can move like a normal snake when she does it." Kettleburn nodded along, pulling out a notepad and quill which floated by themselves to note down what Harry said as he talked.
The following week went by quickly for Harry. He spent most of his day practising his list of spells, learning the lumos charm, the basic protection charm oboediens tentorium and the unlocking charm alohomora. The practise was only interrupted by the occasional stroll down the Alley and the visits from professor Kettleburn every evening.
He'd had some trouble keeping his practice from being noticed by the professor. The older man might be overly cheerful and incredibly energetic, but he was also very sharp. Harry was pretty sure he'd been had three days ago, when the professor had found a bunch of needles he was practising with and had forgotten to throw out. The man hadn't said anything though, just went straight for the chair by the desk and started another series of questions.
Now, it was the afternoon of July 31st, his birthday. Harry hadn't had any plans for the day, his birthday had never been celebrated before. Now, however, three people had shown up for a small get together arranged by Tom, the barkeep. The other two people were mrs. McGonagall and Professor Kettleburn. Suzhen was there as well, obviously.
They had surprised him a few hours before, coming through the door with a cake and a birthday song. Suzhen had nearly lunged at them, but Harry had calmed her quickly enough that nothing happened. After they had eaten the cake, they'd given Harry a small gift each.
McGonagall gave him a small Graphorn-leather wand holster with accompanying belt. It sat so it held the wand securely, handle free and able to quickdraw from either the right or left hip. Tom got him a small book on cooking and household charms, 'the perfect thing to start with for a young wizard wanting to be self-sufficient'.
Kettleburn had said he was only there to speak with him as usual, but he'd still given him a small drawstring backpack made of leather. It was bigger on the inside and held a small slice of tropical rain-forest. Suzhen was very appreciative of the warmer climate. The gifts weren't much, but they meant the world to Harry.
They were small, useful and the greatest things he'd ever gotten his hands on beside his wand and familiar. The bag stood open by his bed, ready for Suzhen to enter whenever she wanted. The holster was already threaded through the belt loops on his pants, and the book from Tom lay on the table, ready for a readthrough.
As Harry sat now, at 5 pm on a wednesday, surrounded by the first people in his life that liked him, a familiar he had exposed his heart to and every piece of magic paraphernalia that would make him powerful, Harry felt for the first time what it would be like when he fulfilled his dream. The happy thoughts and warm surroundings quickly lulled him to sleep, wrapped up in Suzhen.
The next morning saw Harry and McGonagall sit down for breakfast together in his room, the deputy headmistress having stayed the night to talk with him in the morning. She hadn't told him what about, but he had gotten the impression that it was important.
"Last week, I gave you a letter from Narcissa Malfoy." Harry nodded. "Have you read it yet?"
Harry nodded his head, his mouth still stuffed with toast. He swallowed quickly so he could answer.
"It didn't say much, just that she would meet me here on the 7th of august and that I should dress 'properly'." McGonagall gave a low hum and took a sip of her coffee. She shot him a speculative look, then nodded to herself.
"Narcissa Malfoy comes from an old magical family, the Black's and has lived her entire life in privilege. She's married into a family just as old as her own, though their arrival in Magical Britain is much more recent."
Harry nodded, but he was confused why they were talking about this.
"Isn't the Potters also an old magical family?" Harry asked. McGonagall nodded, though her expression was sombre.
"They are at least as old as the Blacks, but because you weren't raised in the magical world, that likely won't matter to mrs. Malfoy. She, and many others who are just as privileged, despise muggles, muggle-borns and those who accept them readily into our society. Despite your heritage, you must remember you were raised by your muggle relatives. I'm afraid she will likely be patronising and condescending."
Harry lowered his head and clenched his hands, trying to keep them from trembling.
"I'm very sorry to be saying this, Harry. I know that you have hopes for a familial relationship with her, but-"
"I just don't understand. Aren't she and mrs. Tonks both supposed to take care of me? Why would she be like that with me, if she's going to adopt me? Why would she be asked to, if she doesn't even like me?" Harry's eyes had teared up, and his voice trembled. McGonagall gave him a small smile and reached out a hand to take one of his.
"Unfortunately, because of your fame, it would be very prestigious for any family to be the ones to care for you. But there is also a lot of bigotry in our world and that combination of fame and your upbringing can be polarising in the most privileged circles of our society. I'm not telling you Narcissa Malfoy will be derogatory towards you, but I would much rather tell you now, so you can prepare, than not and have you find out when you meet her."
Harry sat silently, trying to keep his tears at bay and trembling under control. This was supposed to be when he got a family, people he could live happily with. Now McGonagall was telling him it would be like the Dursleys? Instead of being a freak because of his magic, he would be a freak because he wasn't raised with magic?
"What about… What about mrs. Tonks? She's mrs. Malfoy's sister, right? Will she be the same?" Harry's voice was so thick with fear, it was all McGonagall could do to not scoop him up. She gave a small sigh.
"No, I'm certain she will not. Andromeda Tonks ran away from her family to marry a muggle-born wizard named Ted Tonks. They live in a muggle neighbourhood and are very friendly with their muggle neighbours." Harry nodded slightly, frowning in thought. McGonagall gave a small sigh.
"I'm not telling you to be hostile with mrs. Malfoy, but to prepare for her to be somewhat… snobbish." The last was said with a small smile and Harry smiled back, recognising McGonagall's attempt to lighten the mood.
Some days later saw Harry waiting in his newly cleaned-up room. He'd needed to, after spending the last week practising the few spells he'd learned. His room had looked like a bomb crater, with scratches and grooves in the floor and walls, his furniture spread haphazardly throughout.
He had used spell practice as a distraction from the conversation he'd had with McGonagall, trying to get his mind off of Narcissa Malfoy and all her possible reactions to him. Harry had learned plenty of spells because of that, but his nervousness had only grown. Which he had ended up taking out on the room, as evidenced by the havoc he had wrought.
He'd spent the day today, the day when Narcissa Malfoy would come visit him, cleaning his room and practising the reparo charm so every surface made of wood wouldn't look like it'd been scratched with a ball of steel wool. It had taken him most of the morning to get the spell down, and most the rest of the day to go over his whole room with it. The whole while, Suzhen had become more and more agitated, clearly affected by Harry's trepidation.
So now he sat, with Suzhen coiled in and around his lap, and waited anxiously for one of only two people with blood relation to him. One that might well hate him for the upbringing that he himself despised. Harry felt his hands tremble again, even as he petted Suzhen to keep both of them calm. The familiar raised her head from where she had rested it on his thigh, tilting it to look at him questionably.
"This Suzhen asures [hearts-treasure], that no harm shall befall him while she stands guard. This… female that causes [hearts-treasure] distress shall suffer this Suzhen's wrath!"
Harry smiled at his friend and companion, feeling his heart slow down and his hands stop trembling. He exhaled gustily and nodded, reassured that his familiar was so adamant about his well-being. Even if he would prevent the winged serpent from actually harming Narcissa Malfoy, he appreciated the sentiment.
A knocking sounded then, three small raps coming from the door. Harry breathed in deeply, then gently moved Suzhen from his legs and stood to open the door. The woman on the other side was tall and slim, with pale skin and white-blonde hair. The eyes that stared back at him was a clear sky-blue, and Harry would have called the woman beautiful if it wasn't for the disdainful frown that curdled her face.
"Please come in, mrs. Malfoy. Please be careful of the bed, my familiar Suzhen is in a bad mood." As Harry opened the door and the taller witch entered, she threw a look at the bed. Harry had seen many reactions to his familiar, from freezing up to screaming, but he had never seen someone ignore the 5-feet something flying snake like Narcissa Malfoy did.
The woman saw Suzhen, raised an eyebrow then sat down in the chair by the desk, neither pausing nor uttering a sound as she did. Harry had somewhat come to expect a noticeable reaction to Suzhen, so the fact that Narcissa ignored her completely threw him off. Still, he managed not to make too much of a fool of himself, closing the door and sitting down at the edge of his bed towards the older witch.
For a short while, they just stared at each other, as Suzhen moved from her place on the bed and up Harry's back to around his shoulders. Harry could see Narcissa follow her with her eyes, something he couldn't identify lurking behind the sky-blue irises. He collected his thoughts, then cleared his throat.
"Mrs. Malfoy-" He started, only for the woman to interrupt him.
"Narcissa, mr. Potter, we are family, after all." Harry had startled slightly, but nodded with a slight blush of embarrassment.
"You can call me Harry then." He wasn't well versed in politeness, but he had read some books in his school that told him that he should allow others to use his first name, if they offered the use of theirs.
The older witch nodded slightly, seemingly satisfied, then continued speaking.
"I must admit, I am uncertain about the situation we find ourselves in." Harry felt his expression fall, but didn't have time to express himself as Narcissa went on. "My husband and I have a son of our own the same age as you, and splitting our attention between him and you seems ill advised."
Harry lowered his head and clenched his hands, both feeling and hearing Suzhen rise slightly from his shoulders and hissing at the witch across from them. He didn't see her reaction, but he could hear her shuffle her feet slightly. When Narcissa spoke again, her voice was softer.
"I realise you have precious little family, and what I came here to say is likely the exact opposite to what you hoped for." Harry didn't react, the witch being entirely correct. He had no idea how to react. Narcissa was silent for a while as Harry tried to find something to say.
"You wouldn't be happy with us, Harry. Though my husband and I share the opinion that your treatment by your relatives only shows exactly what kind of beasts muggles are, Lucius would also think less of you for being raised by them, however unwillingly or terribly so. I, however, have experience with suffering caused by people that call themselves your family, so I do not share that opinion."
Harry looked up at that, surprised by the admission. Suzhen had also stopped hissing, seemingly also caught off guard. After what McGonagall had told him, he had expected either indifference or greed, or both, from the woman. The empathy for being raised by people he wanted nothing but escaping from was unexpected.
"What do you mean, Narcissa?" He asked, his voice thick from preventing himself from crying. The older witch was looking at him with soft eyes, full of understanding and sympathy.
"My family was harsh, Harry. Me and my sisters were raised without love and affection, bartered like cattle. Though I have found affection and loyalty with my husband and son, we are not without our differences.
I believe in purity of blood, that magic begets magic and that those who live and breathe magic longer are thus more powerful. I might see muggles as lesser, but I do not see the point of the cruelty and oppression my husband and his… compatriots so revel in.
And I certainly don't see muggle-borns themselves as lesser, per say, simply that they cannot be allowed to enter our society and then change the traditions and customs that we have had for a thousand years because they do not understand them.
But my husband does. He would see every muggle-born removed from our society. And because he holds such extreme beliefs, he might take you in for the prestige, but he would scorn you for your upbringing and make you miserable in a hundred small ways. I could not bear to have that on my conscience."
Harry nodded slowly, saddened that a person that could have been his family could and would not take him in because it would cause strife in her own family, and suffering for him. Still, he understood that she was making this decision, in part, for his sake as well.
"Then, you're just here to tell me you can't take me in?" Harry asked, grudging acceptance in his voice. He didn't really see the point of the exposition if that was the case, but Narcissa didn't seem to infer anything else. Suzhen was coiled tightly around his shoulders, as well embracing his head with her wings.
"No." Harry's head shot up, confusion evident on his face. Narcissa smiled lightly, though Harry couldn't figure why. She didn't seem the type to enjoy causing emotional whiplash.
"I would ask your help, Harry." The woman said quietly. "It is my understanding that my older sister, Andromeda, is the other candidate to adopt you. Despite our differences, I can freely admit she is a good woman. I would ask you, choose her. And when you see her, give her this letter." Narcissa pulled a small envelope from her robes and handed it to him. Harry recognised the same, beautiful lettering on the front.
Harry sat and stared at the letter, not really knowing what to feel. This was supposed to be him meeting the people that were related to him, for him to help decide who would adopt him. Who would be his family. Instead, the first he met outright told him she didn't want him, and was going to use him to meet her own estranged sister..?
Narcissa evidently noticed where his thoughts were going, because she leaned forward to gently rest a hand on his shoulder. Suzhen didn't appreciate that, making a feinting strike at the hand. Narcissa hurriedly pulled it back.
"Ah…" Though the woman was taken aback, she rallied herself quickly. "I'm sorry to ask this of you, especially during the first time we're meeting, but it isn't solely for my benefit. I would not abandon an association with you, as one of only two remaining family members besides my husband and son. I only ask you to deliver the letter to my sister because of our estrangement. She has never accepted a letter sent via owl, so I can only hope she will accept this one in preparation for the mutual meeting during September."
Harry nodded slowly, and tried to calm Suzhen down. The familiar was not pleased with the woman across from them. Fiddling with the letter in one hand, Harry contemplated what Narcissa had said.
"You… aren't only using this as an opportunity to contact the sister you don't talk with, and you aren't really refusing contact with me. You're using the opportunity to gather the family you don't talk to, and go around your husband who wouldn't like us." Harry reasoned out slowly, Narcissa nodding along as he thought aloud. She smiled gently again, and Harry was struck at how pretty she was with that expression, instead of the light frown she'd had when she arrived.
"Entirely true, Harry. That's why I implore you to not take any offence. I just want to talk with you and the sister I haven't seen in over two decades."
Harry took a short while to think it through, eventually deciding that he trusted her reasoning enough to believe her. He nodded.
The two weeks until Harry's meeting with Andromeda went by like a blink of the eye. The day after Narcissa's visit had gone by with him simply digesting the situation he found himself in. Family politics was a strange thing to a child's mind, even if Harry himself couldn't identify it as such, and not anything like what he'd imagined himself doing. Eventually, he set about distracting himself, he practised his magic, talked with Suzhen, ate ice cream at Fortescue's and studied his school books. Before he knew it, the day of his meeting with Andromeda arrived.
The August evening was warm with no clouds, a slight breeze flowing on from the open window. Harry and Andromeda were sitting in a pair of recliners, enjoying some English tea. The chairs had been transfigured by the adult witch, along with the conjured tea-set that was floating between them.
They had spent the day in the Alley, and though Harry had explored it over the last month and thus knew it well, the way Andromeda had talked about her own shopping experiences, the shops and the people had given Harry a fresh outlook on the area. The meandering day had given Harry the impression of a woman much calmer and down-to-earth than her sister.
The older witch had initially been very insistent that Suzhen remain in his room, quite frightened of the familiar and uncomfortable with Harry speaking parseltongue. He had managed to convince her that Suzhen wouldn't do anything, and Andromeda had warmed to the winged serpents' presence.
Now, as they relaxed with the evening sun shining in from the window, Andromeda turned to Harry with a slight smile on her face. "This has been a wonderful day, Harry. You are quite the bright child." Andromeda gave a similar slight smile to Suzhen, who was lounging on the desk by the window enjoying the warmth. "As is Suzhen, of course."
Harry smiled back bashfully, a slight heat rising to his cheeks, while Suzhen preened. "Thank you, Andromeda. I had a lot of fun today as well."
They sat in a companionable silence, before Harry fidgeted a bit. Then he got up and went over to his cloak, rummaging about. Andromeda raised an eyebrow curiously.
"Harry? What is it?" The gentle question startled Harry a bit, but he shook it off and turned around, Narcissa's letter clutched in his hand.
"I, uh, had a meeting with your sister, Narcissa, a couple of weeks ago." He said nervously. He had been wondering how to bring this up most of the day, but it had felt awkward and wrong during their exploration of Diagon Alley. It had felt like it would ruin the rest of the day. Andromeda nodded, her face becoming stiff and slightly strained as she looked at the letter in Harry's hand, but she didn't say anything.
"We, um, talked a bit about how her family was, both now, but also when she was smaller." Andromeda's eyebrows creased, but she still didn't interrupt. "She told me… She told me it would be for the best, if I didn't choose her and her family for adoption. She told me about her husband, how he would adopt me because of who I am, but not like me or treat me well because of how I was raised."
The words were halting, and filled with a subdued confusion and slight hurt. Even if Harry intellectually understood why Narcissa had asked him to reject adoption into her family, even if he had only met her once and didn't really have a relationship with her, his feelings were less understanding. Suzhen sensed his distress, and coiled herself around his shoulders. Harry reached up and ran his fingers along her back, taking comfort in her presence.
Andromeda rose from her own chair, and knelt down in front of Harry. Gently, she pried the letter from his hand, but her focus stayed on the boy in front of her.
"I haven't spoken to my sister in a long time. When we were young, we were very different people. Still are, I'm sure." She gave a slight smile, and though Harry appreciated the small attempt at levity, he couldn't make himself smile back.
"In the time since I left that family, she has sent me quite a few letters, but I've never accepted them. That she would give one to you is…" She shook her head. "It's not right. But when you say that she told you not to choose her and her family…" Andromeda looked down at the letter, then closed her eyes and sighed.
"She shouldn't have put this on you, Harry." She gently lifted his face so she could look him in the eyes. "Understand? She shouldn't have. But when she encourages you to choose me and my family above her own, I can only believe in her intentions. Understand, it's not because she doesn't want to take care of you, but that she believes you would be in a better situation with me."
Harry gave a slow nod, glad to hear someone else say it. He trudged back to his chair, feeling a mix of sadness and relief of having given the letter to Andromeda. The witch herself rose as well, but didn't sit in her chair. Instead, she slowly spun the letter between two fingers. Eventually she asked, "did she say anything else?"
"I… kind of… spoke aloud to myself, but Narcissa agreed." Andromeda tilted her head slightly. "She doesn't want to use me as a way to talk to you, and she still wants to talk to me. She's just trying to find a way to talk to both of us, without her husband finding out."
It felt good to get it all out, to say aloud everything that had weighed on his mind, to have everything off his chest. Andromeda hadn't reacted much to what Harry said, but she seemed to be deeply contemplating something. Harry was grateful for a small breather, just leaning back into his chair and petting Suzhen. The winged serpent had stayed curled around his shoulders and was languidly wounding her way around his head and hair. Harry smiled softly, more grateful than ever for her presence.
"This is a bit too heavy a topic to end our evening on, I think!" Andromeda suddenly spoke. Harry looked at her curiously, to find her smiling lightly at him. He felt his lips quirk up into a small smile as well, even as he gave a small nod.
"So! Seeing as it's only 7, how about we go to the cinema and see a movie, hm? Something nice and funny, I think." Harry tilted his head. He hadn't ever been to the cinema before, hadn't been allowed, and had only ever gotten bits and pieces of whatever movie Dudley wanted to see. Despite these memories, he was curious about the experience, and something funny would help with his mood
"Ok. But what about Suzhen?" Harry asked, and the familiar reared her head, alarmed at the notion there would be difficulties with her accompanying him.
"This Suzhen would have problems with following?! Where is this 'movie' to be, then?"
Andromeda gave a short laugh. "Not to worry! I'll cast a small disillusionment, no one will notice her."
Suzhen made a low, confused hiss, and Harry explained. "Don't worry, Suzhen. Movies are made, and watched, by muggles. They don't know anything about magic or magical creatures, so we'll just have to hide you."
The topic of muggles had come up when choosing her name, but the familiar still only had a loose grasp of the limitations that were imposed when interacting with them. Suzhen gave another low hiss, but shrugged off her unease as if it had never existed.
"Well, now that that's cleared up, my daughter, Nymphadora, told me about a really funny one the other day. It's called…"
AN: Once again, since a lot of people don't read the start of chapter AN. I mistakenly said it would only be 2 weeks between Harry shopping with McGonagall and him starting at Hogwarts. It is, in fact, 5 weeks. As such I've tried to correct chapter 3 and 5's mentions of the time until school starts, and as can be read from this chapter, the first 2 meetings were held here in the month before school. The meeting where all three are present will be held in the first month of the school year, September.