Oh look, this website finally gets a chapter first because Ao3 is down XD
I'm back again (on a borrowed laptop) because I couldn't stay away from this series.
You guys might be happy to know that I have roughly outlined 10 more days (probably more than 10 scenes? we'll see) for the next chapters and the last three ones are more plot-advancing than what we've seen so far. I'm kinda excited about this story again so that's fun.
Like last time, this is unedited so read at your own risk. I'll probably revise all of these on the 10th.
September 16th, 1988
"Did she know my parents?" Harry can't help but ask when Mr Wright says someone is coming over to meet him and she's a witch like Mrs Malfoy.
"I don't think so, but you can ask her if you want," Mr Wright answers as he finishes setting up the table.
This time they're not meeting at a restaurant, and Harry had been worried for a bit since visitors had never been good news at the Dursleys until Mr Wright, but he didn't have to do anything but pick up a few books he left out of place. No mopping, cooking or dishes to clean, not even a single one! He thought he was getting used to his new life, but sometimes things like this happened and he suddenly felt like laughing, or crying, or throwing himself on Mr Wright's lap and letting the adult hold him until everything stopped feeling like too much. He did none of those things, of course. Instead he tried his best not to get in anyone's way as Marie and Mr Wright tidied up the house for their guests.
"Oh, that's weird," Mr Wright said out of nowhere after putting down the last plate. Harry probably looked confused, because he explained a moment later, "They're here, I think? These wards sure are something. That felt like a little poke straight into my brain. I'll go greet them before they get hurt."
Harry muffled a chuckle behind his hands at the thought of some invisible creature poking people in the head to let them know they have visitors, only nodding in response. Mr Wright walked out the front door, closing it behind him and leaving Harry to fidget with his hands from his spot on the sofa.
Mr Wright comes back a couple minutes later, and Harry notices he's followed by a lady with curly brown hair and a pretty blue dress that reminded him of the one Mrs Malfoy had on at dinner that one time. Maybe witches don't have lots of clothing stores? Can't they buy muggle dresses? Before he can even think of asking any of the questions going through his mind, the lady is followed in by a man, he looks kind of older than her but maybe it's the beard. He's wearing clothes more like Mr Wright than Mr Malfoy, but he did come with the witch lady so he's probably magical too.
"Harry? Want to come say hello?" Mr Wright asks and Harry doesn't really want to but he also doesn't want to disappoint Mr Wright, so he steps forward to greet the couple.
"Hi, 'm Harry, 's nice to meet you," he bows the way he'd read in the wizard book and rehearsed in the mirror, hoping it's right.
"It's very good to meet you, Mr Potter," the lady does her own bow back, "I'm Andromeda Tonks, you can call me Andy if you'd like."
"Look at all that bowing," the man by Mrs Tonks chuckled, making Harry's cheeks heat up as he looked down at the floor, "not a bad thing! I'm just not for the formalities, name's Ted Tonks, feel free to call me Ted."
"How about we sit? Dinner will be done in a moment," Mr Wright saves him from having to figure out what to say and leads the way to the table, sitting at the end with Harry right by his side and the Tonks couple in the other.
Harry stays quiet at the start, even with the couple insisting on asking him questions. He gives short answers and eats fast enough to finish quickly without choking, but their eyes on him make his skin tingle and he feels like they're looking for something and he's not doing it. It's not how it felt with the Malfoys, they'd talked to Mr Wright and left him and Draco to talk on their own, but now there wasn't another kid to distract him and there were only so many different ways he could answer "I don't know" to Mrs Tonks' questions without feeling like he's probably the dumbest kid they've met.
"Harry, how about you go play for a bit? I need to talk to Mr and Mrs Tonks in my office," Mr Wright asked, though Harry knew it wasn't much of a question and nodded, leaving the table with a short bow and hurrying up to his room as fast as he could without running.
Visitors may not be all that bad here, but he would still rather not have any.
Michael kept his expression neutral as he led his guests up to his office, ignoring the man's apologetic look just as much as the woman's displeased one. He led them to the chairs facing his desk and closed the door behind himself, watching with some satisfaction as the small carvings around the doorframe glinted for a fraction of a second. What would be the use of magical warding if he couldn't make his office entirely soundproof?
"Mrs Tonks, I'm going to need you to cease this behavior," he declared as he turned back towards the couple and made his way to the office chair on the other side of the desk. "Harry is not obligated to know the answer to any questions regarding what you or anyone else in the magical world thinks an eight-year-old should know. He bowed because it's polite and he wants to be a part of this society, his parents' world, but I'm not about to overwhelm him with information he's not at fault for not knowing. If your interest in my ward is solely due to thinking I might neglect his wixen education, I might have to reconsider my offer."
"The boy needs to know his culture, there are rituals and respects to be paid, I hardly expected him to be an expert but he has no plans for Samhain, or even knows what it represents!" Mrs Tonks insists, tone raising slightly.
"Andy, he's eight," Ted Tonks helpfully points out.
"I was participating in rituals by the time I was six, age is no excuse," she insisted.
"I don't disagree," Michael calmly informs, watching as his lack of argument clearly takes the wind out of her sails, "but you and Harry were different people being raised in different environments. I'm not going to overwhelm him with tutors in order to catch up to wixen-raised children, but I'm doing my research to take advantage of any learning opportunity. He's just been removed from a hostile environment, started at a new school, has a new friend and learned he's not who he thought he was a few months ago, I will not have you come into my home and make him feel inadequate."
"I apologize," she concedes, looking slightly sour at having to do so, "but surely you don't think you are fit to introduce him to his culture? You've just found out about it yourself, it would be prudent to turn to more appropriate instructors."
"I don't pretend to know everything I need to, but regarding delicate matters such as Samhain there would be no point in handing him over to a stranger. Unless you have any personal connection? Maybe tales of his parents?" Michael explained, though something about her phrasing rubbed him the wrong way.
"I was already out of Hogwarts by the time they attended, and we hardly frequented the same circles," Mrs Tonks admits, huffing out a breath that rang to him as annoyance, "still, as a witch-"
"So the issue is my status?" He raises one brow, entirely unimpressed. She'd expressed some respect for him at their meeting, and their letters were nothing but polite, but this felt like an entirely different issue, "a Squib couldn't possibly teach a child to connect with their magic, right?"
"Hold on, she never said-" Mr Tonks tried to defend, but his wife cut him off.
"It's only common sense," she answered in a tone of finality, "it's hardly fair to damage his introduction into his world by having it through you. Don't get me wrong, you seem like a capable young man. I respect your protectiveness over your ward and this is clearly a good environment for the child, but some things can't be learned from books."
"I see," he refuses to let any of his thoughts bleed into his expression, only nodding at her response. "I won't argue over this, but I will insist you apologize to Harry for your behavior during dinner. Whether I'm fit to teach him or not, none of it is his fault and he shouldn't be made to feel like it is."
"Of course," she agrees easily enough as they stand, waiting for him to open the door for the couple. Mr Tonks seems like he wants to say something, but if the look he's sending his wife is any indication, it's nothing Michael should pry into.
"If you could wait at the entrance, I'll go fetch Harry," he tells them and leaves the couple to make their way down the stairs while he walks to the kid's room, knocking on the door.
"Come in," Harry calls from inside and Michael opens the door to find the boy laying across the bed with a book in hand, clearly already halfway through it.
Where did he get The Baker Street Boys? I don't remember buying those… probably Hermione.
"Mrs Tonks would like to apologize to you before they leave," he tells him, crouching by the side of the bed, "you're not obligated to accept it, but she is in the wrong and shouldn't have acted the way she did during dinner."
"I- why-" Harry clearly struggled with the concept of being apologized to by an adult, which is why Michael felt completely justified with pressing the point with Mrs Tonks. Harry needed to learn that adults shouldn't get away with acting however they wanted to towards him.
Harry could only stare at the door as it closed behind the couple. He knows he answered to the woman's apology, but can't quite remember what he said, though Mr Wright doesn't seem upset at him so it can't have been anything bad.
"I'm also sorry, for not stepping in sooner," Mr Wright offered, suddenly crouched in front of him, and Harry just couldn't anymore, "Harry? What's wrong?"
The sobs that burst through him took them both by surprise, but even more when Harry followed it by moving forward to burrow into Mr Wright's chest, hands clutching at his shirt and muffling his sobs against it. He felt the man sway slightly, moving a little before feeling arms wrap around him and hold him close like on that first time in the bedroom.
"Tha- thank yo- ou," Harry said in between sobs and hiccups, still pressing his face to Mr Wright's chest.
"Nothing to thank me for, darling," Mr Wright assured, one hand moving to brush through his hair and only making Harry cry harder, "alright, up we go," Harry felt the man's other arm move from around his back to behind his legs and suddenly his feet were off the floor. He was being picked up, like a baby, and really had no energy to get embarrassed about it, "I've carried boxes of files heavier than you, someone needs more snacks," Mr Wright comments, but Harry is too distracted by being held, hiding his face on Mr Wright's neck, and the hand petting his hair to care much about it.
It takes the better part of an hour for Harry to settle down and part of Michael wonders if his ward isn't making up for every time he should have been able to just cry or throw a tantrum like a normal kid but the Dursleys made him swallow it down in fear. If that's the case, he doesn't mind dealing with the result of Harry feeling comfortable enough to be a child. Said child was still on his lap, cradled in his arms, breaths more controlled and all out of tears. His shirt was probably filled with snot but that was an issue for another time.
"Harry?" He called softly, not wanting to disturb the boy if he happened to be sleeping.
"Hm?" The soft hair under his chin moved as Harry sat up slightly, face still flushed from all the crying, "s-sorry," he tried to slide off to the couch but Michael only held him closer.
"Nothing to apologize for. Do you want to get down? I don't mind," Michael feels more than hears the boy's response as he sags against his chest once again, shaking his head in denial, "that's alright, everyone needs to be held sometimes, it's okay to want and ask for hugs or any other form of affection, okay? No one decent is going to be upset about it." he says, not for the first time and probably not the last.
He feels his ward nod once and lets the silence last a few more minutes before bringing up the topic that's been bothering him since their guests had left.
"Would you like to know the things Mrs Tonks was asking about?" He starts with, hoping it's safe enough to bring up.
There's a moment of silence, but then another nod, Harry's hair tickling his chin.
"There's a couple of ways we could make that happen," he continues, keeping his own insecurities out of his tone, "I could study up on things, consulting with the people I know from the wizarding world, and do my best to teach you what you should have been taught by now," he gives his ward a moment to think on the first option before adding, "I could also hire tutors, people that already know these things and have taught other magical children, they'll probably know more than me since we both found out about this world nearly at the same time."
"You," Harry answers without taking any time to think, which brings a smile to Michael's face even as he feels guilty for it.
"Well, I can try my best, but do you remember what magical people said I am?"
"Squib?" Harry asks after a moment, "what does it mean?"
"It means I can interact with magical things, but I don't have any magic myself, so I'm not the same as a wizard. Mrs Tonks was worried that I wouldn't be able to teach you properly to connect with your magic since I don't know how it feels," Michael tried his best to explain, "A proper tutor would already know things I might not even notice because of it."
"That's dumb," Harry mumbles, making him let out a surprised chuckle, "I don't know what swimming feels like, but I know you don't do it by staying still."
"That's not quite the same," he points out, sad about the swimming comment and already planning a few outings in order to remedy it but a little glad Harry isn't afraid of talking about this with him, "you can learn to swim by watching others' movements."
"I can watch wizards too," Harry argues, "can't you have a tutor then teach me after?"
Michael has a feeling there's more to the question than wanting to learn from him, maybe his ward is growing tired of the onslaught of new people entering his life, or doesn't want to be alone with a new and unknown teacher, but whatever it is does give him an idea.
"Maybe," he answers after a moment, "I'll look into it. Until then, we can try to add more magic to our days, how about that?"
"Um- like a wizard bedtime story?" Harry's tone is so soft it's nearly a whisper, and it would be a cheeky suggestion if it wasn't so uncertain and shy.
"Exactly like that," Michael agrees lightly, not wanting the child to feel bad about asking, "How about we go up and find one for tonight? Or do you have one in mind already?"
"Beedle the Bard?" the boy offers.
"Alright, let's put you to bed then. You'll have to get down, we've got stairs to climb and I'm scared of dropping you," Michael admits, making Harry chuckle as he slides off his lap.
He leaves the boy getting ready for bed and takes a moment to breathe. Mrs Tonks wasn't entirely wrong, at least not in any way he knew how to prove yet, but it didn't have to mean that he couldn't be part of Harry's magical education. He already had plans for Samhain, carefully discussed with Narcissa through their regular correspondence, but it couldn't hurt to get a hold of one or more tutors to ask about lesson plans and figure out Harry's magical education accordingly.
Later.
"Ready?" Michael asks after knocking on the bedroom door, receiving an immediate positive response and walking in to find his ward in pajamas and curled up under the covers on the left side of the bed, a slightly thin book labeled 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard' on top of the covers by his side.
He takes a seat on the right side of the bed, kicking off his shoes and stretching his legs on top of the covers. Harry only looks at him for a moment before scooting over and slotting himself right by Michael's side, earning a fond smile and a hair ruffle. He shifted to accommodate Harry by his side more comfortably and finally opened the book.
"Let's see, The Tales of Beedle the Bard… The Wizard and the Hopping Pot…"
I love Andy but u can't tell me she managed to outgrown every single prejudice just by falling in love with a muggle-born. She's still a pure-blooded witch formerly of the House of Black and she'll act like it.
Harry getting all the hugs he needs and wants is my weakness if u can't tell. He's baby.
Next chapter has a birthday and maybe some more letters, so see ya there.