Chapter 12:
Networking Part 2
Dumbledore led Harry around his new property and seemed to be trying his hardest to downplay how great the property is.
Harry knew full well, even without his expanded senses, that the structure was in far better condition than it appeared. The cracks, chipped paint and dirt, not to mention boarded up windows, were all surface level. The equivalent of soaking paper in coffee to make it look more aged than it was.
Harry himself got tired of Dumbledore's obvious and humorous charade about the place being haunted and the multiple contradictory stories about the horrors that had taken place there. The man was deliberately making it obvious that he was lying just to be cheeky. And so, with a wave of his hands Harry began his first display of wandless magic for the old man.
Clearing out all of the debris, trash and rocks in the first thirty meters around the property and following it up with a weak, large area of effect cutting charm to remove the overgrown weeds, grass and bushes. After a few minutes they all sat neatly in a pile on the newly cut lawn. From there he ripped every single board covering the windows and doors of the house, nails and all. That last one had taxed him enough to make him sweat and start to breathe laboriously. So, with calm, deep breaths he focused on slowly levitating the unwanted boards and nails from their individual places in the sky down into the same pile of stone, trash, grass, weeds and bushes.
He only had one last thing to do on the exterior, save for clearing out the remaining debris, trash, rocks, trash, weeds and bushes in the three or so acres of land surrounding the shack. He allowed his magic to slowly wash over the exterior surface of the building and crawling along it. He proceeded to peel away the ancient, ruined paint. This wasn't a spell, but wild, focused magic bending to his will and skill as opposed to any magical foci, years of theory and practice. It was the magical equivalent of scrubbing a house down with an invisible sheet of sandpaper.
When he was done the shack, which itself was a perfectly livable home, looked almost ready to move into. The dark wood exposed to the air was nearly pristine and needed only a new paint job. A proper one, done by hand.
"Whoo! I need to exercise more." Harry joked when the exhaustion finally hit him and he bent over to catch his breath.
He'd be lying if he said he hadn't been trying to impress the old man, and the look of approval on his face showed it had worked. Damn, did that feel good!
"That was such beautiful magic, mister Morrigan." Complimented Dumbledore. "Thank you for giving me the privilege of seeing it."
"Stick around. You haven't seen anything yet" Harry wanted to say but refrained. He needed to remain humble, so instead he said: "I foresee seeing much more beautiful magic, and beautiful acts, come from you in this, your final year." He said in all honesty. "As the sun sets on your life you will see the world you love begin to live up to the great promise it always held."
It was always a great pleasure leaving old folk speechless with flattery, especially when it wasn't a lie to butter them up.
"Is that a deduction or divination?" Dumbledore asked.
"A little bit of both." Harry answered half-honestly. "Door?"
"Hm? Oh!" Said Dumbledore as he fumbled for the key to the front door.
Finding it, he unlocked the entrance and swung the door open. The air suddenly reeked of dust, disrepair and neglect. Dumbledore motioned for Harry to stand back before drawing the elder wand.
With a few swishes through the air, he created a delicate gust of wind that he sent inside. Harry wasn't familiar with the spell, but it was loud. He heard furniture being thrown aside, dishes crashing, and curtains being torn asunder as the whirlwind tore through the building.
Dumbledore had the gall to hum a cute tune and twiddle his thumbs the entire time.
"Ah! I think it should be safe to enter." Said Dumbledore when the spell ended.
As they did so it was to find a home in disrepair but bereft of dust and furniture. The wallpaper would all have to be replaced, as would most of the plaster from the deep claw marks Remus had left during his monthly confinements here. Plus, the wood, all of it, would need to be sanded and polished.
There goes his weekend.
"Would you mind opening a few windows?" Harry asked.
With a wave of his wand Dumbledore opened every last one and they continued the tour. From the entrance hall to the living room, where the whirlwind had deposited all of the ruined furniture and dust of the home into a pile reminiscent of the room of hidden things. Everything was in far better condition than could be expected. The cellar which he had never been in was large enough to serve as a storage area for all the potion ingredients he would ever need and the food pantry beside the kitchen was nearly as large as the master bedroom, which he planned to turn into military style barracks. Same for the living room and the other bedrooms.
"It's perfect." Said Harry as they exited the attic, which he would of course be converted to an office.
"I'm glad you like it. But might I ask, of all the buildings in the world to turn into a refuge for werewolves near the full moon, why this one?"
Harry shrugged.
"Walked past it one day and got the overwhelming feeling that it would be a great place for a werewolf to hide." He said. "And then as I thought about it, I realized with the wide-open spaces around it and proximity to Hogwarts it would allow a good range of visibility to see any would be hunters and make it more plausible for younger people afflicted to attend Hogwarts, if parents could be assured that their children would be safe during those days. But that's a bit further down the future, isn't it?"
Now he was outright lying, but he had the excuse of being a seer to lean on when he needed to explain how he knew things he shouldn't, so you're damn right he was going to abuse it! He didn't mean to make Dumbledore's eyes twinkle so hard as to be blinding.
"I can vanish the old furniture unless you want to repair it?" Dumbledore offered as they passed the living room again.
"Oh no! I'll burn it in a bonfire tonight." Said Harry. "Vanishing things makes me… uncomfortable."
Dumbledore looked at him curiously.
"Whatever does it do?" The old man asked.
"Are you familiar with the laws of thermodynamics?" Asked Harry.
"Of course." Dumbledore hummed.
"Well, many a wizard has asked if matter and energy cannot be created or destroyed, then wherefore does matter erased through magic go?" Harry explained. "And some have found the answer. It is horrifying. I'd rather not talk about it."
Dumbledore nodded consideringly.
"I'll have to look into that myself then." He eventually said. "And I shall refrain from vanishing to dispose of things until I find the answer. Is there a similarly terrifying answer for the origins of conjured matter?"
Harry scoffed.
"You know as well as I do, conjured matter isn't real. Just magic shaping into a form of our imagining and imitating the properties we want it too, and all conjured things eventually return to nothing." Harry recited as if by rote from his NEWT study guide.
Dumbledore nodded approvingly, and only then did Harry realize he was still being interviewed, this time in his theoretical knowledge in regard to transfiguration. Albus Dumbledore had always been openly biased in favor of skill in Transfiguration as the mark of a great wizard. He had good reason for the bias, but bias it still was.
"Well, the transfer in ownership for the deed is signed and sealed and sent off to Gringotts." Said Dumbledore. "As soon as they approve the transaction and transfer the money, I'm sure they will allow you to pick it up."
Harry nodded and shook Dumbledore's hand goodbye. For now, at least.
"And if you need any further help setting up your nonprofit, I know a few people who would be happy to help." He said before leaving with not a crack, but a whisper on the wind.
Harry immediately re-entered the shack and began checking for any residual magic with his senses. Wards, spying charms, cursed objects, anything. When those turned up squat, he went down the back hall to where the passage to the whomping willow ought to be. There was no trapdoor, nor was there anything beneath the flooring where the trapdoor ought to be. He could feel that it had once been there but not for a very long time.
He would have suspected Dumbledore of having sealed it up ahead of time knowing he might be selling the property but threw that idea aside. More likely, with the war of attrition going on endlessly and being a more worldwide phenomenon than strictly English, as it had been in his world, the headmaster likely sealed it up after Remus graduated. It would not do to have an easily accessible passage into the castle. He wondered to himself if the others had been sealed up too. To his knowledge, all of the Marauders were alive in this universe, and allied with Dumbledore. They were bright men and would surely have shared their knowledge of the passageways with him.
He breathed out a sigh of relief as he advanced onto the living room. With a flick of his wand he levitated all of the crap and dust and guided it all through the front door. Depositing it onto the now doubly large pile of trash to be burned. He took a deep breath and sat on the grass.
And like that all motivation to do work left him.
Even though he was nowhere near magical exhaustion, dealing with Dumbledore had taken its toll on his mind and energy levels. Be wanted to fall asleep and never wake up again, so stressful had his meetings with the old man he loved dearly.
It was then that he heard the fluttering of wings and looked up to see Hedwig, significantly slimmer than when he purchased her, coming in for a landing. He smiled as she glided to his side and nestled into his side.
Their familiar bond was finally starting to form. His old Hedwig could always tell when he needed her comfort, which had been often. He stroked her feathers as he got lost in thinking about nothing.
It was a lovely afternoon. Warm sunlight with intermittent clouds and the smell of freshly cut grass all around him. Shame he only had Hedwig to share it with, seeing as crookshanks wasn't the cuddliest. Plus he didn't feel like picking him up from Ollivander's and coming back.
"Expecto patronum." Harry whispered, then spoke to the stag which appeared. "Bellatrix: I just purchased the Shrieking shack. If you aren't too busy, won't you join me here? Please bring a blanket if you can."
He sent off the message and eased back into resting on the ground. For a few minutes he continued to enjoy the silence in his mind when a loud crack announced the arrival of his impromptu date.
"Must you keep a lady waiting!" She called once she reached earshot, a thin picnic blanket held to her chest. "I've heard nothing since your letter the other day!"
harry smiled wanly at her, knowing her real complaint was that he had yet to invite her to dinner with the Crabbe family. He was certain word had gotten to her that he has asked Valentine if he could bring a date. Seeing as he knew who he had in mind, it wasn't a leap word had somehow gotten to her through whatever network of gossipers connected the two. And so, he made no excuses but instead scooped Hedwig into his arms and stood up to introduce them.
"This is my familiar, Hedwig." Said Harry. "We met just a few weeks ago, and I've been working overtime on helping her lose weight. She's doing great."
Bellatrix smiled at the amber-eyed owl and stroked her brow with a single finger in greeting. Hedwig did not object.
"Is this a comfy place to put down the blanket and have a lay down?" Bellatrix asked. "I presume the interior is not yet presentable?"
Harry nodded and soon he, Hedwig and Bellatrix were sitting together. Him sprawled out and propped up by his elbows, utterly relaxed and her with her legs folded beneath her and sitting upright like royalty. They sunbathed for a few minutes, but the conversation simply had to begin anew.
"I really am sorry about not writing to you earlier." Said Harry. "I've had a rather busy week thus far and only just caught a breather."
"Oh, you don't need to tell me. I'm a lady, don't you know?" She said mysteriously. "And we can tell when a man, any man, has had a very stressful day."
She looked at him crookedly and held a finger to her bottom lip as if deep in thought.
"You present me with a difficult choice here. I have two sisters in very different marriages. One takes her husband having a bad day as the opportunity to whine and make it worse, mostly for her own amusement but also to get things out of him. The other moves mountains to make him feel heard and wanted." She explained. "Which one should I imitate?"
Harry grinned at her joking and had no difficulty guessing which sister was which.
"I think I shall take my lessons from the sister who has built a loving home and family, one that can be happy with or without the finer things in life." She decided. "Here you are exhausted, and here I am with a perfectly soft lap to lay your head. Come. Rest, and tell me all about your day."
She patted her lap and he took the invitation. With one beautiful bird laying in his arms, and he laying in the arms of another beautiful bird, he spilled his guts. He told her the truncated and selectively edited version of his day. How he had come to Hogsmeade to interview with the great Albus Dumbledore and got the position, only to then also convince the old man to sell the Shrieking shack. This then led the conversation back around to the nonprofit he was trying to make.
Bellatrix kept quiet the entire time, making no judgement or criticisms of his plans, even as he went into detail about them. Keeping her promise to listen.
He considered telling her about Dumbledore's impending death and how sad that had made him, but he wasn't sure if he trusted her enough yet with that information. She was after all still Bellatrix Black. And knowledge can be dangerous.
"I'm probably going to spend the rest of the day cleaning up the interior and then tending to the grounds.A nd tomorrow I have to go back to Gringotts to meet with the board of nonprofit funding." Harry finished. "But tonight I have a plus one dinner invitation with the Crabbe family, and I would like you to be my plus one."
That was the one thing she couldn't bite her tongue over and audibly winced.
"I don't want to shoot down your aspirations or anything, but maybe reconsider that meeting." She said. "That board hasn't approved funding for any nonprofit in… ever."
Harry looked at her. Half-amused at her sidestepping his invitation for a date, another genuinely curious at her reasoning.
"Really? Why not?" Asked Harry.
"They're goblins. They will not invest in a thing if it does not make money, and the whole point of a nonprofit is to be unprofitable." She explained.
Harry frowned.
Neither of those statements were true in his experience.
Goblins care about profit, sure, but they care more about success and doing great things no matter the expense. If they failed to approve any charities in so long, it's because none of them showed promise in achieving their mandate.
As for charities being profitable, plenty of places have tried and succeeded in giving free food in exchange for a smidgeon of labor, usually dishwashing or cleaning, and even Draco had options available at his healthy cook-it-yourself restaurant for those who were broke. Cook the food for ten others, get a meal for yourself. Hell, some people became de facto employees this way and wound up with a paid, full-time job.
And like that the possible applications of a hundred fully lucid werewolves as laborers suddenly struck him… Holy shit, if only he had his Draco there right then so they could hash it out. He had planning to do.
"I bet you they'll approve mine." Harry said with a devilish grin.
"Oh yeah, and what is it you're betting?" She challenged.
"I bet you one long, wet sloppy kiss" he tapped his cheek "right here."
"I see." She said, returning his grin. "And what do I get if you fail?"
"I'll clean your house, or, er apartment?" He asked.
"I rent my own apartment." She confirmed.
"I'll clean it top to bottom, and in men's lingerie." He finished his bet. "But for your eyes only."
She didn't even bother to consider it before offering her hand.
"Why Mister Morrigan, I do believe you have yourself a deal." She said as they made for the world's most awkward handshake due to their body positions. "Now go back to Ollivander's and get dressed, you are nowhere near presentable enough for a dinner with a pureblood family."
Harry never understood the obsession with dressing for dinner. Sure, Muggles used to do so as recently as a half century ago, but not to the point of putting on their Sunday best. Especially since wearing your best clothes for a meal always risked ruining said clothes with a wine spill or the omnipresent splatter of spaghetti sauce, even when paradoxically eating mashed potatoes and steak.
The eternal paradox of "When the hell did I get spaghetti sauce on my shirt?!" seemed like much less of a concern for people with cleaning charms that could find and erase even the most obnoxious of mustard stains, so there was that.
And so, he left Garrick's shop that evening in the same green and black robes as before. They were the closest thing to dress clothes he had and would impress nobody, but he was at least presentable. Dumbledore might approve of a regular dress shirt and slacks with tie, but the Crabbes wouldn't. Besides, He knew Valentine would let them know to go easy on him as n outsider to pureblood society.
And so, when he flooed from the leaky cauldron to the Crabbe estate he was pleased to see a younger, and very much alive, Vincent waiting for him in tones down dress robes.
"Welcome to the Crabbe estate, Mister Morrigan." Vincent greeted. "I will take your coat if you have one and escort you to the living room, where your date is already waiting."
Seeing as it was August and hot as hell, they skipped hanging his fictional coat and Harry let the polite young man guide him through the familiar building. He'd only been there a few times, and it was nice to see it in such decent shape. When they reached the room it was to find everyone waiting for him.
"Morrigan! Welcome." Valentine greeted, standing up from where he sat beside his son and daughter in law. "And congratulations on your interview and purchase.
He approached for another handshake as everybody else stood at his arrival and approached in time to exchange handshakes of their own.
"Vincent Crabbe senior, at your service." The Death Eater greeted with a handshake of his own.
And he was a Death Eater. Harry could feel the taint of the dark mark on his wrist through his sixth sense, and a similar one on Mrs Crabbe who offered a white satin glove hand for him to kiss, which he did. The gloves went all the way up to her elbows and was strangely all the fashion with pureblood women these days. But aside from the mark she was lovely. A chubby woman, the kind who wound up shapely with all the padding inexplicably filling her cheeks into big, soft rosy smiles.
Positively adorable, that woman.
"I hope Belaltrix didn't burn through what few interesting conversation topics I have to share while waiting for me." harry said as the woman approached him.
Again, white satin gloves. It so didn't match the black dress, honey. But ladies gotta cover for each other, don't ya know?
"Of course not, Hadrian." Bellatrix said. "I only got here a few minutes ago. All I had to tell them was that you interviewed with Dumbledore and bought a house. I'm so looking forward to you sharing the details that you barely gave me earlier."
That was fair. He had been pretty sparce, only giving her the generals of what happened. Not necessarily the why.
"Well we have an entire meal with which to get those details." Valentine said. "If you would follow me into the dining room, we can get started on that."
Want your Story Written?
I take commissions now! You can pay me to write your fanfiction or original works. My prices are as follows.
$25 per 1000 words of fanfiction, with some wiggle room. I don't pad my work. You also get to video chat with me as I type the first chapter.
$25 per 500 words for original works, so anything that is not fanfiction. I also charge $25 per 500 words for smut or fetish materials.
Prices subject to change in the future. Check with me.
Become a Patron:
NonsensicalRants
You can also still become a patron for ONE DOLLAR to get access to future chapters 2 weeks early and vote on which stories I update next.
