12. ONCE MORE
Once more into the fray….
The party of three made their way through the bustle of the Alley. The tall witch cut a swathe through the crowd, people stepping aside unconsciously. Hadrian followed in her wake, hat low over his brow while Vernon took the rear, eyes flitting about. The three came up the steps of the bank and were swiftly shown inside. Contrasting with the full alley; the cavernous hall barely had any lines. In moments they met a teller and informed him of their appointment and were soon directed to the accounts manager's office.
The office was still the same: clean, dark, and intimidating, with its weapons on display.
"Good morning Heir Potter, I am glad you know how to keep time." The old goblin said in his gruff manner.
"Good morning, Manager Ripclaw. I hope our meeting will be fruitful." Hadrian replied, glancing at his aunt, who gave him an encouraging nod. Ripclaw almost smiled but refrained.
"Let's get on with it, money is time after all." The goblin pulled out a few books and files from the desk, and arrayed them before his client and his guardians.
"Over the years your family's investments into businesses have done well enough though without direct management some have declined or been overtaken." The goblin began, his tone gruff but even.
"How so, were you not the one managing these investments." Vernon leaned forward, peering at the records. The goblin scowled irritated but answered nevertheless.
"We could not make any radical changes to the initial instructions left by the previous head of family without direct input from the new family head." He nodded towards Hadrian. "As such most of your finances were left to maintain their income not for growth. But now that you are ready to take the reigns, we can chart a course forward."
Vernon nodded satisfied and sat back. He shared a glance with his nephew who seemed to be nervous. Vernon reached out and placed an encouraging hand on his shoulder.
"Go on, take it slow." Vernon offered with a smile. Hadrian smiled uneasily before steeling himself.
"I've noticed that the port at The Cove is in disrepair. What happened? Could we rebuild it?" Hadrian asked tentatively.
"The war happened unfortunately." The goblin replied grimly. Quickly pulling up the relevant documents, he continued.
"The port was the largest in the British Isles at one point – goods and ships from all over the world made port there." Ripclaw stated proudly, pulling out some old photos.
Hadrian stared at them; they were faded, but there he could see ships pulling into the port. It looked vibrant and busy. It left a bittersweet taste in his mouth.
"During Grindelwald's war your family was targeted – the damage as you have seen was extensive." The goblin pointed to the photos.
"Rebuilding efforts were slowed by your late grandfather's poor health. Then the Dark Lord's war happened – and you know what happened." The goblin finished, knowing they would understand.
With both his father and grandfather gone, there had been nobody to authorise proper transactions, so the port and docks had been left to languish.
"You still make money but barely and there's only a skeleton crew there now." Ripclaw said all this matter of factly.
"So we could repair it?" Hadrian asked again.
"We could...but I would advise against it." The goblin shifted uneasily at the boy's intense gaze
"Why?" Asked Hadrian confused.
"Potter cove has been left behind over the years, traffic in those waters has declined and many use ports owned by other parties. They are too entrenched and we would sink money in a venture that would not bear much in terms of profit." The goblin explained looking pained.
"Oh." Hadrian frowned. He looked at the floor bitterly, fists clenched tightly. "I don't want to tear something my family has built over generations."
"Things come to an end one way or another. But there are other ventures to be had, the world is full of opportunity." Ripclaw said candidly but not unkindly.
The goblin looked at the two adults, hoping to get some support. Professor McGonagall had her lips pursed, and was looking at her despondent nephew with concern. Vernon looked thoughtful.
Hadrian looked down at the book with details on the port's imports and exports. He was hoping he could find some solution to all this, his family legacy.
"Why do you even need ports anyway?" Vernon asked suddenly, directing the question to McGonagall. "Wouldn't it be faster for you to use your apparation and those blasted portkeys."
Hadrian grimaced and shared a pained glance with his uncle. The two had a shared dislike for the magical transportation devices.
"Many magical goods; enchanted and raw materials tend to be volatile around spatial translocation spells, it has been known to ruin the quality of produce in some cases and so we use ships or brooms. But ships are faster and can carry more, especially if you enchant them properly." McGonagall answered looking thoughtful.
Hadrian paid them little thought, he had found his eyes drawn to something of interest.
"Ripclaw; tell me about acromantula silk." Hadrian asked interest piqued.
"Ah yes, that was your family's biggest import actually, hard to come by but your family managed." Ripclaw said matter of factly
"How did the Potters manage to come by so much of it. I've always wondered, with how dangerous the venture is." McGonagall commented intrigued.
Ripclaw looked at Hadrian, his eyes questioning. Hadrian got the sense that this had been a family secret for quite a long time. Hadrian glanced at his uncle who shrugged, seeing no help there Hadrian made a decision, he could trust his godmother. He nodded for Ripclaw to continue.
"Wizards often like to cover up their mistakes and acromantula are one of many; bred a few centuries ago to protect wizard treasure and to cull populations once upon a time, the beasts got out of control and have been a problem ever since." Ripclaw smirked at the collective misery of Wizards.
"The beasts are vicious and they have a modicum of intellect – quite the nuisance. So every time they get out of control, powerful hunters are sent to cull the population – and during one such purge many decades ago, one of your ancestors was clever, very clever indeed." The goblin grinned and it was all teeth, sharp and menacing. Hadrian found himself ill at ease at the sight.
"Your ancestor struck a bargain with the a clan of the creatures – a geas between them, their two families. So he moved them and provided protection and the cost was..." Ripclaw watched as realisation lit up his young client's face.
"The silk!" Hadrian said excitedly.
"Yes and continued amicable relations." Ripclaw finished unbothered by the interruption.
"Why did they stop providing the silk?" Vernon asked.
"The geas requires renewal doesn't it?" Minerva stated more than asked.
"Yes geas are a tricky business." Ripclaw chuckled amused.
"I'm sure you know all about those." Minerva commented tiredly.
"The rebellions were quite fun, to be honest." Ripclaw grinned.
"Wait the goblin rebellions?" Hadrian asked eyes wide.
"Yes; you haven't covered those in school yet I imagine? There is a geas between the goblin nation and the British Isles." Ripclaw explained.
"So this geas what does it entail?" Vernon asked, ignoring the political talk.
Ripclaw shrugged, "I don't know the exact details, I know it exists and that it requires renewal. The biggest requirement is that each Heir make an offering of strength." Ripclaw explained.
"To show their ability to protect the clan and keep them in line, I imagine." Minerva added thoughtfully.
"Exactly. Acromantula are vicious, but they respect strength." Ripclaw finished.
"I don't like the sound of that." Vernon muttered, he looked uncomfortable. He looked down at his nephew, the end of the last academic year fresh in his mind. Danger it seemed would follow the boy like a loyal dog.
"I say this only because I must – but if you truly wanted to get the port back in business, re-establishing the silk trade would go a long to improving your chances. Nobody has managed to fill the gap that your family left." The goblin peered at the young wizard.
"That means negotiating with the Acromantula once more, showing them my strength?" Hadrian mused, his eyes shone with interest.
Vernon shared a worried look with Minerva, but refrained from saying anything.
"Yes, but that is something to think about in the future that." Ripclaw shuffled some papers around. "In any case we shall try and go through some records we have here, see if we can find any mention of the geas, mayhap we shall stumble upon a journal..."
Hadrian startled when he heard that.
"You know something Heir Potter?" Ripclaw asked noticing.
Hadrian hesitated, he wasn't sure if this was one of those things he was not to mention. But he could admit that he had put it to the back of his mind, after getting frustrated.
"Yes..." he finally answered, his brow furrowed in annoyance. "Duff gave me a journal, said it belonged to the previous Lord Potter's but..." his brow furrowed in annoyance.
"But...?" Ripclaw prompted.
"It's blank. I've tried passphrases, pushing my magic in it, even runes, but I have gotten nowhere with it." He complained.
"Ah, I see. Have you tried blood? Yours specifically?" Ripclaw asked.
"No." Hadrian huffed in annoyance. "Why didn't I think of that?"
"Well I would be uncomfortable if your first thought was to do such Hadrian." Minerva said dryly. "I'm surprised that you had not thought to ask for assistance."
"I was hoping I could figure it out on my own. Plus I didn't know if it's something I'm supposed to keep to myself, those family secrets and things." Hadrian said downcast.
"Well it is good to try but never be afraid to ask for assistance." Minerva started lightly before her face turned serious, her eyes sharp.
"The people in this room are, due to various reasons and even oaths, here to help and protect you. Your mother chose me as your godmother. It is not a light thing, not in our world, and it is a duty I take seriously. So the next time you have a magical problem, I expect to be informed. Your secrets, family or otherwise are safe with us. Understood?" her pale green eyes bore into his own.
"Yes auntie." Hadrian nodded rapidly, his hair flopping about, yet a nagging guilt gnawed at his gut.
Ripclaw gave a polite cough, drawing attention once more.
"We have strayed off topic somewhat." The goblin stated, his demeanor irritated.
"Apologies Master Ripclaw, we shall try not to deviate and take much of your time." Minerva inclined her head.
"Thank you. Now, I made subtle inquires about that rebuilding project you mentioned in your letter." He waved a sheaf of parchment before settling it on the desk.
"What building project?" Minerva asked bemused.
"I want to rebuild the village around my ancestral lands. I was reading about how so few purely magical settlements there were and all of them are old and stuff." Hadrian explained almost shyly. Minerva looked at him critically and Hadrian found himself fidgeting under her gaze.
"So what did you find out?" Minerva turned to the goblin.
"It would be a massive undertaking to put it simply." The goblin began, his tone turning grim. "I do not know if you noticed, but your lands are essentially cursed."
"Cursed?" Hadrian asked worried. "How?"
"The attacks and devastation visited there..." the old goblin shuddered and shook his head to dispel his dark memories. "War and destruction leave an indelible mark on places. Agitated spirits and energies suffusing the land. The lands will have to be cleansed before any construction could begin." He finished staring intently at the trio.
"How do you do this cleansing?" Vernon asked a frown marring his brow.
When he and Hadrian had visited the lands he had not felt anything. Perhaps it was because he didn't have any magic himself. Vernon glanced back at his nephew; he remembered Hadrian saying the land felt sad but other than that it had not felt hostile.
"There are rituals," this came from Minerva. The witch had a pensive look on her face. "I would imagine we will require a few to begin anew."
The witch looked up then, a gleam in her eye as an idea came to her.
"If the nymphs still live in the forests then we could negotiate for their help. Nymphs have always been the best at communing with nature." Minerva mused.
"Duff said they were still around, hidden." Hadrian recalled what his Elfin steward had told him. "He said he was going to introduce me."
"Good, that's good, then he can arrange a meeting and we can do this soon." Minerva smiled at Hadrian.
"Now tell me about these plans for a town." Minerva ordered, her smile turning overly sweet.
"Well." Hadrian wet his lips, feeling nervous. He looked at his uncle and the goblin but neither was any help and studiously ignored his gaze.
"Potter Cove used to be one of the largest settlements in the British Isles, then Grindelwald's War happened." Hadrian grimaced, remembering the destruction he had seen on his ancestral lands.
"I have been reading about construction; some of uncle's books and I want to rebuild it, the town, village, whatever." Hadrian finished looking nervous.
"So how many houses were you thinking? Do you plan on having a preparatory school there? Any other amenities?" Minerva asked.
Hadrian's face fell with every question and a sullen pall fell over him. Minerva sighed in fond exasperation.
"This is why you need to share your ideas." She placed a hand gently under his chin and gave him a tender smile.
"I am glad you want to rebuild, but it is not as simple as having a dream and willing it to happen." She shook her head for emphasis. "There is a lot to be done; designing, permits, finding the right people for the construction."
"Oh." Hadrian remarked.
"Yes, oh. We will discuss this later and go over what exactly you want and then begin some designs." Minerva said sternly.
"Shall I send any details pertaining to all this to you Professor?" Ripclaw asked amused.
"Yes, I suppose you should." Minerva answered. Wondering where she would fit it in her schedule. It would be a load but she could not help but be intrigued. She had not lied to Hadrian, she was happy he would rebuild the settlement. She remembered well her fond memories of the place and would love to see it once more.
"Stop goddammit!" Tonks huffed as she sprinted through the bustling, cobbled streets of the magical alley. "Auror, coming the fuck through!" she shouted, her boots skidding as she made a sharp turn, narrowly avoiding crashing into a stall. The indignant shouts of surprise from the crowd were ignored as she scanned for her elusive quarry.
There! A flash of blue caught her eye. The boy was gliding through the packed street, slipping between spaces and people, unnoticed and deftly picking pockets along his way. Tonks growled, making her way determinedly through the busy alley. Why was it so crowded, she wondered, her steps quickening.
The boy turned, panic flashing in his eyes as he noticed her. He picked up the pace, shoving people aside. Tonks navigated the human sea, hearing the grumbles and protests from those he jostled. In his hurry the boy collided into a large man. There was a grunt and the two fell, packages spilling amongst them. The boy was quick to get up and dashed passed, a quick apology flying from his lips.
Tonks was in hot pursuit, vaguely aware of the man getting helped up by a young boy. The man gave himself a quick pat down before his face grew red and annoyed.
"Little bastard took my wallet. My tickets to the opera are in there. Pet is going to throw a fit." He exclaimed.
Turning a corner, she found the thief attempting to scale the walls between two buildings. His frantic attempts were met with little success, each slip making him more desperate. Tonks snorted, amused. The thief turned, and she finally got a good look at him—dirty, well-worn clothes, large eyes with flecks of yellow, and a lone splash of color in the form of a blue scarf.
"Yea, you must not have read the memo. Most buildings in the Alley have a charm against that." Tonks stated, the tip of her wand peeking out of the sleeve of her blouse.
"Ah, come on, look, I'm just trying to make a quick buck, no harm, no foul, yea?" the teen smiled, attempting a nonchalant tone, but his eyes betrayed him - he was looking at her warily.
"Lots of harm, actually. You swiped from me, I'm not one to let that go." Tonks smiled, her lips pulled back wide to show teeth. The boy took a step back, his eyes flitting about nervously.
Tonks kept her stance loose, rocking on her feet, ready to spring at a moments notice. Her eyes never left his agitated form, she could tale he was looking for an opening. She squinted at him, her head tilting to the side in thought; there was something off about him.
"You're a squib, aren't you?" she asked, finally. The boy scowled, his stance growing even more guarded and defensive.
"Well, that explains a few things," Tonks dryly remarked. No wonder the people had not been able to feel him in the crowd, the boy barely exuded any magic.
"Yeah, well, you mages don't like to notice us; might as well use it to my advantage," he shrugged, a smug smile on his face.
"Fair enough." Tonks snorted, her stance relaxing. Several things happened at once. The boy sprang forward, his leg cocked back.
"Fast," Tonks thought, her eyes widening in surprise. There was no time to raise her wand to cast a shield, so she raised her arms, pumping magic into them—crude and sloppy, but necessary.
The kick connected, she felt air leave her chest in a forceful gasp and stumbled back several steps. Her arms stung, growing numb. Bracing for the follow up, she was surprised when it never came. Looking up, she found the thief frozen in a bizarre pose, like a living statue, arms splayed out and mouth twisted in a snarl.
"Well, that looks weird," a young voice commented.
Tonks turned to see a preteen boy with dark hair and green eyes, wearing a cap that screamed "mundane." Was he a Muggle-born? He seemed too calm and self-assured.
"Did you do this?" Tonks asked.
"Yea." he pointed at the ground, revealing a palm-sized oval black stone with runic script, pulsing softly with light.
"What is that?" She wondered. She had not taken ancient runes back in school, and her Auror training had not dived deep into the subject and so she only knew enough to get by – the basics. The stone hadn't even touched the thief, only gotten a foot near him. So it must be emitting some sort of field, she pondered. Was it a stasis field? Was the thief even breathing?
A quick look confirmed that the living statue was breathing, his chest still rising and falling. In fact, the trapped teen's eyes were full of panic and anger, darting this way and that. Yet other than that, he might have been stone.
"How long does that last?" she asked, bemused.
"Long enough," the boy shrugged, moving toward the thief.
Annoyance crept in; she hadn't noticed him following them. Now that she got a good look, he seemed vaguely familiar.
"Now wait a minute," Tonks tried to stop him, but he slipped past, leaving her grasping empty air.
Turning to look at him, she found him rummaging through the statue's pockets. Everything he moved stayed in place, a strange effect. Tonks scowled, she could feel a headache coming along.
"You're interfering in an Auror operation!" she finally had enough of this smug little brat.
The boy turned startled, looking her up and down. "You're an Auror?"
"Darn right I am."
"Where's your uniform?" he asked suspicious, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm undercover, you brat," Tonks bit back, secretly patting herself on the back for that quick thinking.
"I don't believe you," the boy stated, turning back to rummaging. Tonks flushed, her hair turning a deep purple bleeding red.
"Look, kid..."
"Aha!" the boy pulled out a wallet and smiled triumphantly. "Oh, and this must be yours." He threw a piece of leather, and Tonks caught it. Her badge gleamed up at her.
"That must be embarrassing, having your badge stolen by a punk." the preteen grinned innocently.
Tonks felt her hair turn red, with her face following quickly after. She wasn't sure if it was embarrassment or anger. She should probably obliviate the kid; yes, that's right, standard procedure. They couldn't have civilians interfering in Auror work. Nothing to do with the fact that she didn't want it spread around that someone had stolen her badge. She would never live it down.
"Why does your hair keep changing colors?" the question pulled her back from her thoughts.
"I'm a metamorphmagus, kid," she answered, the words snapping out so quickly she surprised herself.
"Oh, what's that?" he asked, genuine curiosity shining through his eyes.
Tonks hesitated, not often talking about her ability, but he was a kid, a curious nosy kid. He had helped her out after all.
"Well, it's..."
"Harry!" a shout from outside the alley drew their attention. The large man from before stood there, waving his arm.
"I'm coming, Uncle; I got your wallet!" the young boy waved the aforementioned item up in the air.
"Good boy!" his uncle shouted back.
The boy turned back to Tonks, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Thanks for the help, Miss Auror."
"It's Tonks, actually," she replied, amused.
"Oh, okay. Here, for next time," he threw her a small pouch, which she caught easily.
Inside were several smooth black stones, similar to the ones still holding the thief. Seeing the question in her eyes, he answered.
"Incase you get into trouble again – I can always make more for myself. You seem to need them more." He shrugged casually.
"Okay, um, thanks, kid," she answered, off-balance. People did not normally just hand out enchanted items like that.
"It's Hadrian," he pouted in annoyance.
"Right, thanks, Hadrian. How do they work?"
The boys face lit up, his stance relaxing and he started gesticulating.
"Well, you prime them with your magic, a 2-3 second count works okay. Once you throw them they activate on contact. Well they don't actually have to touch whoever, they generate a field you see - a six foot radius." He was grinning enthusiastically and Tonks found herself nodding along, despite a small frown. This all seemed a bit complicated, she thought, looking down at the pouch.
"The bigger the foe, the more you need to pour in. They work really well with individual targets but can also work for groups, but last less long—about half as long for every person you add. Oh, magical power also plays a role; the stronger the person is, the less it will hold them..." he trailed off, seeing her confused look.
Tonks cut through his technical mumbo-jumbo and gathered the essentials.
"So I just prime it by pushing my magic through and throw it at a target?" she asked.
"Yes," he said blandly.
"Okay, doesn't seem complicated. Thanks, kiddo," she smiled when he scowled.
"See you, Miss Auror," he waved over his shoulder and made his way to his uncle. The large man was looking at her like a hawk and Tonks offered him a non threatening smile.
Hadrian tugged at his uncle's sleeve and said something she couldn't make out. The man turned back to look at her and gave her an acknowledging nod.
Tonks watched the two disappear into the bustling crowd, she shook her head. She was having a strange day. She turned to look at the thief, still frozen.
"Now what am I supposed to do with you?" She asked herself aloud. The brat had helped and left her to clean up his mess. She would get back at him, if she ever saw him again.
Petunia could feel her lips thinning by the second. She shuffled the photographs in her hands and felt her eyebrows climb up her hair. With a put upon sigh she placed the documents back on the table and fixed her gaze at Minerva opposite her.
"You said you wanted to see." Minerva said, her voice sympathetic.
"I know…it's just…" Petunia tried to say something but found herself incapable.
"He was never supposed to be anywhere near there, in the first place." Minerva tried for a reassuring tone.
"And his teachers were never supposed to try and kill him as well." Petunia bit back, a sneer on her face.
Minerva grimaced and dipped her head, acknowledging the point. She pushed a dark lock of hair behind her ear, a nervous habit.
"Look I don't want to blame you, even if a part of me would like nothing more…Even if a part of me does." Petunia said after some silence. "It's just …
"Hard." Minerva finished softly for her. Her pale green eyes met Petunia's blue and Minerva willed her eyes to convey her sincerity.
"That's an understatement." Petunia let out an angry huff of air, looking away from her friend. Were they still friends after this, Petunia wondered. The thought brought an ache to her chest she did not want to think about. Petunia stood up, suddenly restless. This is all too much, her mind screamed at her.
Minerva watched the other woman walk around the room, her fingers jittery as she idly touched a few bits and bobs. Petunia's body was taut and a manic gleam overshadowed her eyes. Finally, she stopped at the window, her fingers threaded through the delicate lace of the curtains. She stared outside, but her eyes were unseeing, seemingly lost in memories.
Minerva turned away and her gaze swept across the room. The room was airy, with full open windows to let in light and a nice inviting pale yellow. The room told a story, the shelves were full of pictures, carvings and knickknacks; keepsakes from many a family trip and hobbies.
A large portrait was hung on the mantle, a family of four, the children with their wide smiles and disheveled hair, the parents looking on with fond exasperation. The room represented stability and the damning documents on the table were breaking that illusion.
"The worst Lily ever came back with was a nasty scar along her left arm; from her elbow down to the back of her wrist." Petunia said suddenly turning around, her arms wrapped around herself, cradling her abdomen.
"A hippogriff incident in her fifth year." Minerva recalled, a fond smile ghosting her lips.
"Yea, that's how she explained it. I wonder now, if she lied." Petunia's voice turned bitter.
In any other situation, Minerva would have had an answer right at the tip of her tongue, ready to defend her once student turned friend. But not now, when there was clearly a lot unsaid between the sisters.
"You know Vernon, after he got over the shock, couldn't stop grinning like a madman when he heard." Petunia chuckled fondly. "But not me, I worry. It's what mother's do, we worry."
Petunia then turned her gaze to Minerva, her blue eyes sharp. It was in moments like this that Minerva remembered that though the sisters looked like night and day, they still were fiercely protective of their loved ones.
"How much attention have these incidents brought us?" Petunia asked.
"Minimal, other than rumours. The official reports are not damning and Hadrian is only mentioned peripherally." Minerva answered succinctly.
"So you believe that these extra classes would help him?" Petunia asked, her voice wary.
"At this point I think they are a necessity." Minerva sighed. "I know you're adverse of letting him skip classes, but what he did here…" she tapped the photos, her nails letting out a pure note. Petunia stared at the charred remains of a full grown troll and grimaced.
"This needs close monitoring, he needs a mentor who can devote their time to him. Else he might not be so lucky next time." Minerva said, her tone resolute. Seeing that the other woman would need a bit more of a push, she drew out a folder from the depths of her robes.
"I have a schedule – I have outlined how we would fit it into his normal schoolwork." Minerva handed over the folder to the other woman.
Petunia opened it with great reluctance, but she still poured over the contents critically. There were study blocks two nights in the week and one mid morning on Saturdays. Perfectly reasonable, but she still worried.
"You're sure it won't affect his other classes?" Petunia finally asked.
"To be honest, it won't. You have seen his end of year results. He only lags in two classes Herbology and Potions but he secured top three positions even in those. He is far ahead of his peers in Defense, Charms and Transfiguration." Minerva enthused quite proudly.
"His other classes will not suffer and I suspect he will take this as a challenge." She finished trying to regain her composure.
Petunia nodded, suspecting as much as well.
"Very well." Petunia placed the forms on the table and took a pen. Her hand stopped a bare inch away. She looked down and realized her arm was shaking, tremors running down to the nib of the pen. She glanced back at the photos, the blackened dead beast in them stared back at her. She closed her eyes tightly and willed herself to settled. The pen made a dull scratching noise as she signed the form with a flourish; her eyes still closed.
Draco trailed in his father's wake as they cut through the streets of the famed Alley. He tried his best not to stare and affect his father's poised walk, but he still found his gaze drifting here and there. His eyes widened as he spotted glowing eyes looking at him from the depths of an alleyway tucked between two buildings. A jagged line opened up under the glowing eyes, revealing gleaming yellow teeth, a long tongue tracing over their tops.
Draco's heart leapt into his throat and he jumped back, bumping into his father.
"Draco!" his father's voice was sharp but low. Grey flinty eyes cut to his son.
"Sorry father." The young boy said downcast.
Lucius let out a tired sigh – he had noticed the beast in the alleyway, long before Draco had. In fact there were all manner of wretched beings in this part of town, it was why 'respectable' Magi never came here.
Lucius looked at his son, the boy was trying his best to stay composed, his back was straight and he was looking forward. But he could easily tell that he was nervous, Draco's gaze was flitting about, his fingers twitching nervously.
It was good that he was aware, but it would not do to be so obvious about it. Still he would learn, in time.
"We are here." Lucius announced.
Here turned out to be a small shop that seemed to blend into the general dark and dirt of the place. If one was not paying attention they would miss it. But there on the door Draco was able to make out some faded gold lettering; Borgin N Burkes.
"Do you remember what I said?" Lucius asked.
"Yes father; be silent and only observe. No questions." Draco dutifully answered, his voice belying his nervousness.
"Good." Lucius offered his son a smile, making Draco straighten up.
Without knocking Lucius led his son into the shop. Draco's immediate impression was that it was dark, and smelt old, almost moldy. Shelves lined the side, little cubicles with strange paraphernalia on display.
Draco grimaced as he noticed an old grey, desiccated hand enclosed in glass case. Masks were hung upon the walls and busts had various jewels and necklaces on display. Draco even saw a colorful if unusually long feather on one display.
His father stopped at the counter and after taking a moment, rapped his cane on the wooden top. There was some shuffling and cursing in the back before a man appeared.
His eyes were bright and clever, his nose slightly long. His brown hair was full and messy, falling to his cheeks. The man seemed to have been busy and was a in a foul mood.
"We are currently close – Lord Malfoy." The man quickly lost his sneer, a smile quickly replacing it. "Apologies, I thought it was someone else."
"Clearly." Lucius drawled out, his voice smooth and condescending. "I trust all the arrangements have been made, Borgin?"
"Quite, we were just boxing them up actually." Borgin remarked, a pep in his voice. The man then peered behind Lucius and pinned his dark eyes at Draco.
"And who, might I ask, is the young master?" Borgin asked shuffling forward, eyes gleaming with interest.
"My son." Lucius said calmly, "Say hello Draco."
"Hello Mr. Borgin." Draco said, his voice even despite his nervousness.
"Hello to you, young Master Draco. You will do just fine, just fine indeed." Borgin smiled and Draco saw slightly uneven teeth.
"The items are in the back. You may come and observe if you wish my Lord." Borgin gestured grandly to the door he had come from.
"Lead the way Borgin." Lucius ordered imperiously.
Borgin hummed before turning and heading out the back door. The moment he crossed the threshold, his form seemed to melt into the dark, they could see no silhouette.
"Remember, touch nothing." Lucius whispered as he pulled Draco along.
Draco swallowed his nervousness, and then they were swallowed by the dark. As he passed the threshold, he felt a cool sensation pass over his body. Must be wards, he thought. He looked back and found that he could see the shop just fine. So the ward only affect sight in one direction.
Borgin was waiting for them at a set of stairs leading down and the three quickly descended. At the bottom it opened up into a large room, there was boxes stacked and stored, pushed along the wall. Some were open and filled with packing straw. Draco assumed there were full of darker objects still; perhaps new stock.
But in the centre of the room was a table, with a long slim case opened. Standing beside the table was someone Draco was familiar with.
"Lucius I see you finally decided to grace us with your presence." Lord Nott remarked as way of greeting.
"And I see you brought Draco as well." Lord Nott smiled at the young boy good naturedly. "I would have brought Theo along, but alas your father does not share details you see."
Draco felt his lips twitch as he fought a smile, but he quickly schooled his features, lest he offend his father. Theodore Nott Senior was a frequent associate of his father and Draco had known him for most of his life. Draco was actually friends with his son, Theodore Nott Junior, or as he was often called Theo.
"Well Nott, is it done?" Lucius choose to forgo any pleasantries.
Nott must have expected it for he took no offense and took it in stride.
"Yes it was a devil and half doing it, but Borgin is resourceful." Nott shrugged.
"Yes, I was sad to note that quite a number of some of my more valuable items got damaged in the process." Borgin remarked, his head bowed in faux solemnity.
"You will be compensated appropriately." Lucius waved a hand dismissively. Lucius peered into the case.
"Lord Lucius is most kind." Borgin smiled, eyes full of greed, his arms clasped forward eagerly.
"Yes I am quite kind; assuming they work as I instructed." Lucius turned back to look at the shopkeeper, his eyes hard and his mouth a thin line.
A subtle pressure suffused the room, resting on everyone's shoulders. Draco felt his muscles tense and his body grow heavy. He grit his teeth, trying his best not to show his discomfort.
"Otherwise you may find that my kindness can quickly turn….sour." Lucius finished before the pressure disappeared without any warning. It left Draco feeling breathless and Borgin was sweating, having received the brunt of it.
"Draco come here." Lucius called softly to his son.
Draco stepped up beside his father and peered at the contents of the case. There resting on a velvet cushion were gleaming silver amulets, several of them. At first glance they were simple coins of dull silver, unremarkable to look at. Then Draco noticed the runes, archaic script flowing around the edge of the coin.
Lucius dedicated picked one up and turned to his son. Something must have shown on his face because his father offered him a small smile, encouraging.
"You must follow my instructions to the letter Draco. Understood?" a contrast to his earlier smile, Lucius' voice was stern and demanding obedience.
"Yes father." Draco nodded, meeting his father's eyes. He knew that now was not the time to show meekness.
"Good. Wear this amulet always when you are at school. Always." Lucius emphasized. "If you can not wear it for any reason, then you are to keep it on your person, in easy reach."
Lucius kneeled and ever so gently placed the amulet around Draco's neck. The chain felt cool along his neck and the coin settled on the centre of his chest. Draco felt a faint pulse and felt his magic agitate before it settled.
His father seemed to have expected the effect because he nodded, satisfied. Smoothly he stood and went to stand by Nott. Draco watched as a slim black book was passed between them, his father quickly covering it up in silk. The two men had a quick whispered conversation before they parted ways, Nott taking the case with him.
Lucius quickly pulled out a pouch from his robes and tossed it at Borgin, who had remained quiet during all this. Borgin caught the pouch with a practiced hand and quickly opened it, surveying its contents. Borgin looked up, a pleased grin on his face.
"I trust that is satisfactory?" Lucius asked a dangerous edge to his voice.
Borgin bowed, the picture of respect and charm.
"Much obliged Lord Malfoy. Much obliged." Borgin purred pleased.
With a final nod, Lucius guided Draco out of the basement and into the shop proper.
"Speak nothing of this to anyone." Lucius ordered. Fixing his cloak about his shoulders.
"Yes father." Draco dutifully nodded. Quickly the young boy tucked the amulet into his shirt, hiding it from sight. Lucius offered him a rare smile.
"Come." Lucius waved his wand and a soft glow of magic surrounded them. The two left the shop and joined the growing gloom of the Alley. A few moments later they had apparated away.
"An elf – a house elf stole your letters?" Parvati asked again for what was the umpteenth time.
Hadrian sighed, irritated. He turned and glared at her. He had met the Patil twins at the train station and Parvati had immediately demanded to know why her sister had not gotten so much as a letter from him over the summer.
Hadrian had found them an empty compartment and then with great reluctance, Hadrian had told them. Parvati had promptly called the story ridiculous; and had immediately taken to asking him to tell her again after every few minutes.
"Look I'm not lying, the little thing was – is crazy okay…" Hadrian started explaining.
"Of course its crazy. Why would a house elf steal your letters, how would they even begin to figure out how?" Parvati asked askance.
"Look I don't know what your problem with me is..." Hadrian started but Parvati cut him off, her finger pointing straight at his nose making Hadrian go cross-eyed.
"Parvati!" Padma admonished, causing her sister to flip around and stare back at her.
"Are we pretending you're not upset?" Parvati bit back at her sister. "Remember that?"
Before Padma could answer, Parvati rounded back on Hadrian, waving her finger irritated.
"That's my problem with you Mr I can't be bothered, and instead of manning up and saying sorry, you're lying about it." Parvati jabbed her finger at him.
Hadrian stepped back scowling, his temper flared and he could feel his magic spark and his wand grow warm. He took a deep breath trying to calm down.
"Look I'm not lying." He turned to look at Padma, who was standing behind her furious sister, looking on. He met her dark eyes with his own.
"I would never lie to you." He said softly, pleading. "I thought I wasn't getting any letters from you either and…" He started but she cut him off.
"Oh really? Why wouldn't I write you letters?" Padma challenged and crossed her arms across her chest.
"We didn't talk much at the end of term, things were weird." Hadrian quietly, feeling unsure all of a sudden.
"Who's fault was that anyway?" Padma but back, her tone accusing.
"You wouldn't get it…" Hadrian muttered, looking off to the side.
"Maybe if you talked to me I would. Instead you avoided me – like I'm some sort of plague!" she waved her hands exasperation.
"You didn't even have to talk." She moved forward, intending on snatching his arm.
Hadrian drew back, panicked – he raised his arm, hand shimmering with energy. Padma stopped, her breath hitching. Hadrian stared at her, green to golden brown, pleading.
"Please don't." He whispered, but in the silent compartment, he might just as well have shouted. Padma's lip trembled and she sniffed.
The compartment door slammed open, rattling agaibst the frame. The three occupants startled. Hermione found a dark wand pointed right between her eyes, its tip glowing faintly. Hermione stared crosseyed, at Hadrian's wand; she wet her lips feeling nervous.
"Sorry." Hadrian grimaced as he quickly drew back his wand, the focus disappearing into his sleeve.
There was an awkward moment as Hermione and Neville stared at the two Ravenclaws. Hadrian tried for a smile but it came out more as a grimace. Padma was looking at floor as if it was a great work of art.
"Are we interrupting something?" Hermione asked tentatively steeping into the compartment. She was careful to go around Hadrian and stood by Padma and gently held her hand. Padma looked up and offered her a tremulous smile. It was not hard to notice that the dark skinned girl was upset with how red her eyes were.
"Right, like having a wand shoved in your face didnt clue you in." Parvati threw her arms up in exasperation. "Aren't you the smart one Hermione." Parvati snarked. Hermione shrank back as if struck.
"Parvati! Hermione didn't do anything wrong." Padma spoke her voice strong despite being upset.
Parvati looked mutinously at her sister but Padma kept staring at her disappointedly. Parvati let out a long suffering sigh, before she mumbled out an apology.
Parvati moved towards her sullen sister and placed a hand on her sister's back.
"Padma we should go." Parvati said, glaring at Hadrian.
"Umm…" Hadrian shuffled uncomfortably, he wanted to reach out to Padma but his hand stayed still.
Padma let out a sigh and drew herself up and looked at Hadrian defiant, her eyes red but her face stony.
"You didn't interrupt anything Mione. It was nothing." Padma stared right at Hadrian.
The two sisters quickly left, brushing past the other three. Leaving a silent compartment.
"I didn't mean to do that." Hadrian said, looking down at his in morbid curiousity. "I just reacted."
"We shouldn't have startled you." Hermione offered. Hadrian nodded, distractedly, still staring at his hand.
"Do you want me to...?" Hermione gestured between the retreating girls and Hadrian.
"Yea, you should go with them." Hadrian spoke, suddenly feeling drained. He sat heavily on the bench.
Hermione looked at him worried, she bit her lip, indecisive.
"Go, we will be alright." Neville prodded.
Hermione looked at him critically for a few moments. Neville tried his best not to show his nervousness. He must have succeeded because Hermione offered him a small smile. She have Hadrian one last long before quickly darting out to follow the twins.
Neville feeling awkward while his friend sat, quickly sat down across from him. The two sat in silence, one brooding, the other trying to work up his courage to say something.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Neville asked, his voice quick and breathless.
"Huh?" confused Hadrian turned to Neville.
The Gryffindor took a deep breath before he repeated his question, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Hadrian remained silent, staring off to the side. Neville shifted nervously, maybe he shouldn't have asked.
"A house elf was stealing my mail."
Neville startled. He wasn't sure if he had heard Hadrian right.
"You have the same expression she had." Hadrian accused, his face turning sour. "You don't believe me."
"No...um...it's – I'm just surprised is all." Neville quickly stuttered out, waving his hands to calm his friend down. Hadrian stared pointedly, his face pinched and Neville tried not to fidget.
"Why would a house elf steal your mail?" Neville asked face scrunched up in confusion.
Hadrian's expression quickly closed off and became guarded, his eyes automatically darted about the small compartment. Neville quickly leaned back, feeling Hadrian's magic welling up and creating a frisson in the air.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want." Neville licked his lips nervously, he was watching his friend closely.
Hadrian noticed how tense his friend was and grimaced. He had not meant to blow up at him. He was still tightly wound from his argument with the Patil sisters.
"The elf didn't want me coming back to school, said I was in danger." Hadrian started to explain. "So the damn thing took my letters, so that I thought nobody wanted me around..."
"Is that why you didn't write any letters?" Neville asked hurt.
"Yea, I think – maybe." Hadrian placed his face in his hands groaning. "After Quirrell," Hadrian trailed off, his face a riot of emotion, his eyes getting misty.
"I don't know – I was just so angry I guess." Hadrian confessed.
"I'm sorry." Hadrian eventually said in the silence.
"I think – I think I get it." Neville said looking thoughtful.
"Thanks." Hadrian looked up at the other boy, a small smile on his face.
"It sounded like there was a lot more, than just the letters." Neville said suddenly causing Hadrian to look up. "Between you and Padma." Neville finished, his whole demeanour screaming uncomfortable.
"You heard that huh?" Hadrian turned to look at the passing scenery. He brought his arms up, wrapping them around himself, rocking slightly back and forth.
"Yea." Neville looked at the wall. "We didn't mean to, but you guys were shouting."
"Yea, I guess we were. It doesn't matter anyway." Hadrian shrugged, stopping his motion and trying to act casual.
"What? Why?" Neville turned to look at the dark haired boy. Hadrian was trying to look unaffected but his eyes gave him away.
"You heard Padma; it was nothing important." Hadrian muttered annoyed.
*
"They are standing right there. How are you guys not seeing this?" Hadrian asked, confused.
Hermione had returned to the compartment prior to the train stopping at Hogsmead. There was only so much gossip and giggling she could take; Hermione had said. Padma's absence had been conspicuous.
Hermione looked at the spot Hadrian was pointing at and saw nothing there. She shared a glance with Neville, he looked just as confused as she was.
"It's standing right there." Hadrian said through gritted teeth. He wasn't imagining things; the creatures were right there – grey misty eyes looking at them placidly.
Hadrian had been tense since Padma decided not to sit with them on the train. He had sulked and been moody. Hermione looked at the front of the carriage; the empty space that their friend was insisting had something there. If there was something hidden – an animal, as Hadrian was insisting, wouldn't there be depressions in the soil or something.
"Are you sure there's something there?" Neville asked, hesitantly stepping forward. His face scrunched in concentration; perhaps whatever was there was hidden under some cloak.
"Positive. Here let me show you." Hadrian moved forward and grabbed at Neville's hand tugging him forward. Neville, eyes wide in panic, glanced at Hermione for help – the witch just shrugged, bemused. Neville resigned himself to the manhandling by the smaller boy.
Hadrian eyed the strange creatures; black and bone thin, large drooping wings at their side and a sharp beak; they were the weirdest winged horses he had ever seen – that was saying something, considering they were the first winged horses he had ever seen. Still despite his unease he pushed forward, noting how the large grey eyes of the beasts followed him.
"Best not to do that young man," a voice startled the four stopping Hadrian from touching the beasts flank. They turned around and saw professor Kettleburn – the gruff man grimaced as he limped forward. The four children tried their best not to stare at the man's many scars.
"Thestrals don't just let anyone touch them; just keep a respectful distance and you'll be fine, else you might lose a few fingers." He held up his left hand for emphasis, showing his missing ring and middle fingers.
"So there's something there?" Hermione asked, unconsciously taking a step forward.
"I told you there was something there." Hadrian bit out. Hermione ignored him and turned to the professor.
"How come we can't see anything but Hadrian can?" Hermione asked.
The older man eyed them curiously, his eyes settling on Hadrian. The young boy had been a point of discussion in and out of the staffroom the previous term. After his altercation with Quirrell, they should have anticipated this – something to bring up to the next meeting he supposed. The man noticed that a few other students had stopped, hoping to overhear what was going on. The deputy Headmistress would have his hide if the students stayed out any longer.
"Because he's seen more than most." The professor eventually said.
"What do you mean?" Hermione frowned in consternation, why couldn't they ever get a straight answer from the grownups.
"Consider it an assignment." He said finally. "We have such a wonderful library and I won't deny you the opportunity to hunt down such fascinating knowledge." The man nodded, quite satisfied with his wisdom.
"Now no more dilly dallying, get on the carriages before the feast ends." The professor raised his voice, his statement meant for all the kids around them.
With that said, Professor Kettleburn moved off, his limping gait accompanied with mutters under his breath. Neville and Hermione were quick to get into the carriage, the witch quickly taking in the interior of the carriage, interested in its design. Hadrian meanwhile, lingered – his eyes still glued on the beasts.
He twitched as he felt a familiar presence near him. He turned and noticed Padma standing by one of the carriages, she seemed to be frowning in confusion. He wanted to call out to her but stopped, what was he going to say?
The decision was taken out of his hands when she suddenly looked up at him and met his eyes. She almost seemed startled to see him there. She opened her mouth to say something and then stopped and looked to her side, into the carriage. Hadrian saw Parvati stick her head out and he scowled. Parvati saw him and glared before she pulled her sister into the carriage.
"Hadrian!" Neville called out pulling him out of his funk. "We should go, we don't wanna be late."
"Sure Nev." Hadrian scrambled up and into the carriage, it was mostly undecorated, with cushioned seats.
"Have you guys heard?" Hermione began excited. "The new Defense teacher has an Order of Merlin."
"Oh what's that?" Hadrian asked absent-mindedly.
"Its a prestigious award given to those who have achieved great deeds or contributed to our society." Hermione rattled off almost giddy.
"Alright, so do you know who it is?" Hadrian asked, interested.
"No, Parvati and Lavender didn't say, they kept giggling." Hermione scrunched up her nose annoyed.
Hadrian and Neville chuckled amused; Hermione had a strange distaste for giggling.
"Well anyone will be better than Quirrel. That stutter was hard to understand." Neville commented grinning.
"Neville! Have some tact." Hermione scolded, almost scandalized.
"It's alright Hermione. Neville has the right of it." He gave the two an easy going smile. Hermione eased off and offered her own hesitant smile, her shoulders relaxing. Neither of the two saw Hadrian clutching the seat with a death grip.
Author note: It has taken me a while to organise this chapter, probably because it was more transitional and required that i slow thing's down a bit while also driving the plot.
I hope Hadrian and Tonks first meeting makes sense and felt organic. I think it would be an interesting friendship, two exceptional young mages and making a mess of things.
This story will not die, I may upload chapters intermittently and maybe late, but it will not die. I intend to finish this epic. I also have something cooking in the works, well two somethings to be honest.
Finally, Please read and review, it helps drive the creative juices