July to August 1993, summer of 2nd year
"You should try to get up before Naenia comes out," Lynea said, grabbing her left foot and raising her leg to bring herself into the Standing Bow pose.
Harry, who had tried and failed to keep up with her laps around the property, was still lying on the ground, trying to catch his breath.
"Try to do some basic stretches, at least," Lynea continued.
"How are you even doing that?" Harry asked, staring at her, presumably because of the perfectly straight line her legs formed.
"Years of practice," Lynea said, releasing her leg and coming back into an upright position. "Witches and wizards rely too much on their magic." She grabbed her other foot and repeated the pose. "In a life-and-death situation, those that are quick on their feet and able to actually dodge spells instead of needing to block all the time will always have the advantage."
"And if you tire after a few minutes you are as good as dead," Harry said, sitting up. "Do you think we will ever find ourselves in a real fight?"
Lynea shrugged and continued with her stretching routine. "You might, because of your name."
"Because the Dark Lord is after my life for some reason?"
"And his Death Eaters are still around."
"Which is why you better hurry up," came Naenia's voice. "We don't have all day."
They were practicing three-way fights that day – everyone against everyone. Harry had already proven himself to be an excellent duellist – even with the lack of stamina and agility, but he would catch up with Lynea soon enough – so Naenia had decided to move on to more advanced fighting. After all, one rarely found themselves facing only one opponent in a real battle.
Their training progressed rather nicely. At least, until one of Naenia's spells cut the sleeves of Harry's robe and the boy flinched so violently that Lynea's own spell hit him square in the chest. They were at his side in an instant, checking for wounds and other damage, but Harry seemed more worried about his robe than himself.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, his shoulders raised to his ears. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to –"
"Harry," Naenia interrupted him softly. "It's only a piece of fabric. You can't let that distract you in a fight."
"But it was an expensive robe. I wanted to wear some of my old clothes, but Lynea threw them all away."
Lynea sighed. "Magic, Harry. We have magic. Clothes can be repaired easily enough, broken bones cannot. And your Muggle clothes were atrocious."
Harry raised his shoulders even higher. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize."
Lynea shared a look with her grand-aunt.
"It's fine, Harry," Naenia said, softly patting him on the shoulder, and repaired the torn sleeve with a wave of her hand. "Let's take a break and then we can start again, alright?"
Harry looked at them. And then he blinked, apparently realizing what had just happened. He finally nodded and slowly started to relax, shoulders dropping.
The rest of the morning went by without another hitch. After lunch, Harry was left to his own devices while Naenia instructed Lynea in the ways of the Old Magics and the Forbidden Arts. The Necromancer would not teach Harry about the Old Magics, at least not the practical part. Although it had once been the way all witches and wizards practiced magic, it was them who had become lazy and forgotten all about them. So why should Naenia teach them to anyone outside her family, who had guarded that knowledge for centuries?
Lynea would have argued that Harry would need them more than anyone, as their last school year had proven once again, but there was no use in arguing with her grand-aunt.
When Lynea emerged from the basement, she found Harry in the living room. He had a book lying open in his lap and was watching Amelia sweeping the floor with a frown.
"Is Harry supposed to help with the chores?" Amelia asked Lynea, when she entered the room.
Lynea furrowed her brows and looked at Harry. "No, he isn't."
Amelia nodded. "I thought so."
"Did you want to do them?" Lynea asked Harry.
Harry's frown deepened. "What else am I supposed to do? I don't know how to make myself useful other than doing chores. But your Inferi do all the work for you and your mother is cooking herself and I don't know how to handle the weird plants in your garden and …"
"Oh, Harry." Lynea dropped down next to him. "You do know that most children don't manage the whole house by themselves, right? You only need to clean up after yourself. Amelia and Emery will do the rest – it's what Naenia made them for. Part of it, anyway."
"Part of it?" Harry asked.
Lynea shrugged. "Necromancer stuff. Perseus, for example, was made solely for Necromancy purposes. But I'm not immersed deeply enough into the Forbidden Arts to really understand everything her Inferi contribute to Naenia's work. As for the household chores – we still have magic, you know? It's not like doing it ourselves would require much effort."
"We're underage," Harry said.
"So?" Lynea raised an eyebrow. "The Ministry won't know. You do realize that you have been performing magic just this morning?"
Harry winced. "I thought that your grand-aunt – er – Naenia … I thought that Naenia would prevent the Ministry from noticing."
"And she did. The Trace isn't very reliable in the first place. Any child growing up in a magical household can perform magic and the Ministry will ignore it, because they can't be sure whether it was the child or the parents who performed the spell. Naenia can disable the Trace temporarily and permanently, so you really only have to worry about being caught performing magic in front of Muggles and the Ministry catching you at it."
"So you never had to worry about underage magic?" Harry asked in wonder.
"Not really." Lynea shrugged. "Anyway, there is no need for you to 'make yourself useful'. If you don't know what to do with yourself, maybe try picking up a hobby?" She glanced at the book lying in his lap. "I personally enjoy reading."
Harry smiled wryly. "I don't. I tried, but I grew bored way too fast."
"Have you finished your homework?"
"Doing homework is not a hobby, Lynea."
Lynea laughed. "No, it isn't. But it's a way to pass the time until you've found something better to do."
o
"No, Harry, I won't let you bake your own birthday cake."
Lynea stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and looked at the scene before her. Harry was chopping herbs, while her mother was frying vegetables and admonishing him for wanting to cook his own birthday meal.
He had taken Lynea's advice to heart and apparently turned to cooking. Or helping Phyllida cook, at least. As she was the only person who needed food in this house nowadays – with Thelus having moved out and the children being at Hogwarts for most of the year – there was no use in having any of the Inferi do it for her.
Lynea finally entered the kitchen and waved a letter at Harry. "Draco will have you know that he has been keeping your birthday clear for weeks now and there was simply no way that he wouldn't have time to come over." She snorted. "Because of course he couldn't just accept the invitation and not complain about anything."
Harry blinked at her, the kitchen knife momentarily forgotten. "What?"
"Pansy's answer already arrived yesterday and I am sure the others will send their replies soon, but I'm a bit worried Theodore might not be able to attend. Depends on whether uncle Nereus can spare the time to bring him over, I guess. Oh, and Hermione and Neville agreed to celebrate the day after tomorrow."
"What?" Harry asked again.
"Well, it wouldn't do to force Draco, Pansy and Theodore into a difficult position with Hermione present and Neville would be very uncomfortable around them, so I though it might be better to invite them over on a separate day."
"That's not –" Harry kept staring at Lynea in bewilderment.
"Do I need to make another cake, then?" Phyllida asked. "I'm not sure we have enough ingredients for that."
"Hermione's parents are dentists," Lynea said, "So I think she wouldn't mind not eating cake. And Neville isn't picky."
Her mother nodded and turned back to the stove.
Lynea sat down at the kitchen table and watched them work, while picking up the Daily Prophet. There was an article about the Weasleys, showing the large family in front of a pyramid. Arthur Weasley had apparently won some kind of prize and used it to spend the summer holidays in Egypt, where their eldest son worked as a curse breaker.
"Lynea?" Harry asked and she looked up from the newspaper. "Is that really okay? For me to have two birthday parties, I mean."
"Of course it is," Lynea said in a gentle tone. "It's your birthday after all."
Phyllida chuckled lightly. "I think Naenia would disagree with you there, my dear."
Because birthdays had never held a special meaning for the Necromancer.
"But she won't object to it," Phyllida added with a side-glance at Harry, who didn't look very convinced.
o
"These glasses really suit you, Harry," Hermione said in a warm tone.
"Thank you," Harry mumbled.
Lynea hid her smile behind her cup of tea. Pansy had already complimented Harry on his new glasses the day before and he hadn't known how to react back then, either. The optician had been truly indignant when he had examined Harry's eyesight and heard that the boy hadn't updated his glasses in years – not that it had been Harry's fault.
They were sitting outside – Harry, Lynea, Hermione and Neville – having afternoon tea and enjoying the fine weather. After Hermione and Neville had given Harry his presents (a Broomstick Serving Kit from Hermione and an illustrated book about magical plants in Europe from Neville) to which he had reacted no less flustered than the day before – they had started telling each other about their holidays. Hermione and Neville were both rather surprised to hear why Harry was now living with Lynea, because Harry had never actually told them about the whole 'taking over guardianship' business. Hermione then explained the difference between adoption, guardianship and custody to Neville, while Harry had just nodded along.
"And the new robes suit you very well, too," Hermione said. "I am glad to see that your new family takes care of you so well."
Neville nodded enthusiastically.
Harry coughed. "So what have you two been up to?"
Hermione looked over at Neville, who shrugged.
"Nothing much," he said. "Gran bought me some Herbology books as a reward for improving my marks and uncle Algie came to visit, but that's about it."
"Well, my family visited France. We actually just came back yesterday," Hermione said and launched into a lengthy explanation of the local history of witchcraft she had found out about. "I rewrote my entire History of Magic essay to include some of that information. I hope Professor Binns doesn't mind that it is now two rolls of parchment longer than he originally requested."
Lynea and the others all gaped at her.
"Two rolls longer?" Neville said in astonishment. "I barely managed one."
They discussed their homework for a little while longer, until Harry finally had enough and suggested doing something else.
"We could go exploring," Lynea mused. "You haven't seen the woods, yet. Right, Harry?"
The bright smile that spread across Harry's face was answer enough.
It was quite fun in its own way to explore a forest with Hermione and Neville. Normal children would run around, climb trees and play in the dirt. Hermione instead pointed out different plants and fungi to them and the occasional wild animal, while Neville supplied interesting trivia about the magical plants they encountered.
"And there's a parliament of rooks, over there on that oak tree."
They all looked up to the flock of noisy birds.
"How do you know they're not crows?" Harry asked curiously.
"The beaks," Hermione explained. "Crows have black beaks. Rooks have grey beaks and greyish skin at their base. They are also slightly smaller." She looked up at the birds, silent for a moment. "You know … I have been thinking about getting a bird for myself – an owl to send letters, like Hedwig."
"You can use the school owls for that," Lynea said. "Why not get a cat? Cats are absolutely adorable and they are allowed to stay in the dormitories." She glanced at Neville. "Or a toad."
Neville gave them a weak smile. "But toads don't do much."
"You like him, though, don't you?" Harry asked.
Neville shrugged sheepishly. "He was a gift from my uncle Algie to congratulate me on not being a Squib."
"But you cherish him," Lynea said.
Neville nodded.
Harry smiled and clapped him on the back. "Then that's all that matters."
"Does Trevor like it at Hogwarts?" Hermione asked. "I can't imagine a toad being comfortable in the castle."
"He's a magic toad," Neville said. "He doesn't mind it so much."
"Hm …" Hermione put a hand to her chin and seemingly got lost in thought. "I think an owl still brings the most benefits. While I can use the school owls at Hogwarts, I do not have the same luxury at home. It will simply be more convenient to own an owl myself."
"But pets aren't all about convenience," Lynea said.
"That's right," Harry said. "A pet is a companion. A friend."
"Then why did you get an owl?" Hermione asked. "A snowy owl at that – they aren't even native to the British Isles."
"Hagrid gave her to me as a birthday present," Harry said.
Lynea blinked. "Huh. All our pets were presents from someone. I got Choco from my uncle, who passed her down to me in his will. That's why she's actually older than me."
"Your cat is older than you?" Neville asked bewildered.
Lynea laughed. "Yes, by two years. She's an old lady."
When they finally emerged from the forest and returned to the house, Lynea's mother was waiting for them with two envelopes. Their Hogwarts letters had arrived. The four children opened one of the letters and excitedly discussed the new books and what they could expect from Hogsmeade, the village they would now be allowed to visit occasionally. Eventually, it was time for Hermione and Neville to go home and Harry bid goodbye to them with a tight hug and huge grin on his face.
"That was fun," he said, watching them go.
"I'm glad to hear that," Lynea said. "Now, I'm going to make myself a cup of tea. Do you want one as well?"
"Yes, please," Harry said and followed her inside.
While Lynea set the water to boil and rifled through their assorted types of tea, ignoring the poisons, Harry opened one of the cupboards to retrieve a tin with biscuits. A smile spread across Lynea's face. Harry didn't even look guilty or insecure, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to do – and it was, wasn't it? It seemed as if he was finally adjusting to his new home.