Inheritance
Harry exited Gringotts's marble doors into the warm, shining sun for the first time in two weeks on the Twelfth of July. As he took a deep breath, fresh air filled his lungs, bringing the scents of Diagon Alley.
Matron Ragnok had finally deemed him healthy enough to leave the bank for a day's outing, but had requested he stay under her Medical Care in Gringotts for a few more days. He was eternally grateful for her care and worry over him, but he also felt locked up in his private ward and relished the day out like any thirteen-year-old would.
Remus followed behind him with a soft smile as Harry soaked up the sun like he'd been deprived his entire life.
Their steps were light as they took a moment to bow to the stoic, armoured goblins on either side of the white doors. They did not notice the pleased smiles they received in return as they walked down the marble stairs sedately.
Harry's senses were bombarded with a barrage of magic that bounded through Diagon Alley. It differed from the calm and stable Goblin magic he hadn't realised he'd become accustomed to sensing around him in the past weeks.
He stumbled back at the storm of magical sensory input, almost tripping on the stairs if Remus hadn't caught him by the elbow. They garnered a few strange looks but were largely ignored when their shabbier clothes were noted and their cloak hoods dismissed.
He breathed deeply, pulling his Magic back as he only now realised it was fluttering around him like a puppy curious at the types of Magic on display. He sighed, slightly relieved. He'd never known Magic could feel like that, overpowering and domineering in a way he'd only ever felt around specific adults.
He swallowed harshly, raised his head, and entered the crowd with a determined grunt. He didn't notice Remus' proud smile behind him.
They navigated the streets with an air of caution he'd learned through growing up under the Dursleys' roof and strict rules. His body was unaccustomed to it as of late, as he often ran headfirst into danger. Knowing that the Headmaster had taken great pains to keep Harry malleable and under his control caused him to sink deeper into the hood of his borrowed robes over his distinctive messy black hair and memorable scar.
Their first stop was Twilfitt & Tattings, upon the recommendation of Master Blordak. The Goblin had advised him to come here to procure a wardrobe fit for a Heir, preferably with size-adjustment enchantments. His Account Manager had recommended a particular tailor and given him a letter to deliver.
Harry also secretly planned to get Remus a new wardrobe and would have a private word with the tailor about it.
Harry did not know what was in the letter, but if the last two weeks were anything to go on regarding the Goblin's dedication to him, Harry remained hopeful of where he had placed his trust.
He approached the navy blue shop with large windows displaying finely tailored robes. The sign above read Twilfitt & Tattings in cursive gold letters. He cautiously entered through the golden-encrusted door, walking into a classy parlour full of velvet curtains, golden trim, a comfortable waiting area, a long couch, and plush rugs on beautiful hardwood floors.
Ron would have called it pompous, but Harry thought it looked relatively unadorned with baubles and trinkets for a high-class establishment. No one was behind the counter, and all the measuring areas were open, suggesting the store was thankfully free of clients. He and Remus stood out like sore thumbs.
As the door closed behind them, a pleasant bell tinkled above. A tall, skinny man with a dark complexion appeared through a door behind the counter. He was humbly but stylishly dressed in black slacks, a tucked-in baby blue button-up, a form-fitting black vest, and polished dress shoes. His numerous braids of black hair were tied at his nape, and a measuring tape was slung across his shoulders. He greeted them with a pleasant smile that softened his sharp features.
"Hello, sirs. My name is Sebastian Allard, but you may call me Seb. How may I be of assistance?" The man did not make his curiosity obvious as he peered at the pair they made. A small, thin figure swamped in a Gringott's robe and a heavily scarred man hidden by a patchy one.
Harry appreciated that the man did not immediately kick them out. Neither Harry nor Remus looked like people who could afford the undoubtedly exorbitant prices of this shop.
"Hello, sir," Harry began, observing the man from behind his glinting spectacles, "My name's Harry, and this is Remus. We were given this letter from my Account Manager, Master Blordak, to give to you."
Harry watched as Sebastian's eyes widened briefly before he cleared his face of surprise. Harry took the letter from his satchel, slung securely across his chest, and handed it over before stepping back and letting the man read it to himself.
Harry observed the man's expression change as he read. Crystal blue eyes glanced up at him every few moments as he finished and folded the letter, tucking it safely in his breast pocket before nodding.
"You require an entire formal wardrobe," Sebastian said, startling Harry, where he was staring at where the letter had disappeared.
"What? Oh! Yes, sir. I have the money!" He quickly explained.
Sebastian laughed good-naturedly and shook his head slightly, "I have been assured of that, Young Master Harry, don't worry,"
"Just Harry, please," Harry requested, his expression only slightly more awkward than it had been. "I was also hoping you could make some for Remus if you can fit him in,"
"Wait a moment—!" Remus started, but Harry quickly interrupted.
"You're the guardian of an Heir, Moony; you have to dress the part," Harry said, smiling slyly at Sebastian, who could only grin, nodding in agreement.
"I agree with Harry here, Mr. Remus. You have a duty to represent your ward in society," Sebastian said.
Remus stuttered momentarily, cheeks burning, but then he took notice of the identical expressions on Harry and Sebastian's faces. He sighed and let his head drop in defeat.
"Very well, but we're focusing on you today, remember," Remus said, looking at Harry imploringly. Harry grinned but nodded. He'd never had an adult focus their attention solely on him without him being in mortal peril.
It was an addicting feeling.
"Now!" Sebastian clapped his hands, gaining his customers' attention, "Do you prefer any specific styles or colours?"
"Oh, um, I don't know," Harry winced. "I've never worn anything nicer than my school robes. I wouldn't know what to pick." His gaze fell to his falling-apart shoes with an ashamed flush on his cheeks.
Harry knew logically that Sebastian wouldn't be mad at him, as Remus and the Goblins assured him every day when he didn't know something that other wizarding children would consider common sense in their world. It wasn't his fault, and the man would be professional no matter what happened.
However, living with the Dursleys had affected him more than he realised. Subconsciously tensed, he turned slightly towards the exit for a quick escape, unconsciously glancing at Remus to back him up if the need arose.
"Ah, that is perfectly fine, and I am here to assist you. Would you like to look at some catalogues? We have the current and most recent trends here," Sebastian gestured to a stack of slim books he'd pulled from under the counter. Seeing the slightly overwhelmed look on Harry's face, Sebastian grinned good-naturedly,
"We'll put on some tea and look at these designs together. Is that alright with you both?" Harry nodded with a relieved sigh, and Sebastian's smile grew at the simple motion.
"Brilliant, I'll have you remove your shirt and step up on the podium. I'll get your measurements while the kettle's boiling," With a flick of the Tailor's wand, the measuring tape flew from his shoulders, followed swiftly by a small quill and notepad.
Harry waited until Sebastian and Remus's attentions had turned from him to remove the borrowed cloak and oversized shirt he had on underneath. He draped them over his satchel, which he placed protectively at his feet.
Mastron Ragnok had done fantastic work healing his broken body.
Still, she had said that because he'd suffered the whippings continuously throughout his childhood and summers without sufficient medical treatment, the skin, muscles, bones and nerves of his back were weakened and would require more than a few weeks to heal and rest properly.
She had looked sad to inform him that the varying lines of scars would likely remain for the rest of his life.
Harry had gotten used to changing around others; it was necessary in a dorm with four other boys, making it hard to be shy. He'd never turned his back to the others, though, and if they ever did catch a glimpse of his back or the other numerous scars on his skin, he'd never been asked about it.
Most Wix seemed transfixed by the one scar on his forehead and deemed the rest unimportant.
He ignored the tape zipping around his body as he stared at his reflection, ignoring Sebastian's examining gaze and Remus's tight grip on one of the booklets.
He observed the minor changes his body had undergone since the ritual.
Comparing himself to before the ritual, he noted the somewhat healthier pallor to his warm-toned skin and diminished bags beneath his eyes. He was still horrifyingly gaunt, bones poking beneath thin skin.
His wild black hair stuck up horrifically, like he'd stuck a fork in a power outlet. He wondered again if he grew it out, could it be easier to tame?
Vibrant emerald eyes glinted behind spectacles held together by spellotape, the frames slightly too big for his face, long dark eyelashes fluttering, and thin black eyebrows twitching minutely as Harry flinched with every scrape of the tape.
He'd gotten used to his reflection, never liking the small child staring back at him, but he'd gotten used to him.
He endured. If the Dursleys taught him nothing else, he learned to endure.
A snap of fingers startled him.
He was back in his mind suddenly, tape leaving him and writing instruments drifting to the counter, still scribbling madly at the page filled with words and numbers.
He didn't bother hurrying. He grabbed his shirt from the floor, slipped it on, and descended the platform to sit in the lounge, where Sebastian had placed several catalogues and a tray of tea and biscuits.
Sebastian didn't mention his scars and emaciated body in favour of opening a catalogue to the formal dress section. Remus had already seen the repercussions of Harry's childhood while dedicatedly helping care for him in Gringotts when he did not have enough strength to bathe himself, assisting with wiping a cloth across his back.
That didn't make it any easier to see.
Sebastian described different styles, cuts, colours, and current fashion trends in detail, thoroughly distracting the boy while Remus took his turn on the podium.
Harry was surprised when he glanced at his guardian during a short lull.
As expected, Remus had claw marks across his arms and torso, most very old, from what Harry could tell, at least seven years old. However, where Harry expected the man to be as wiry and bony as himself, Remus was well-defined, with lean muscles and broad shoulders that Harry was jealous of. Harry caught Sebastian glancing at the Werewolf and smirked, catching the tailor's eye.
"I believe," Sebastian cleared his throat, tea in one hand while the other gesticulated from one design to another, trying to distract them from the Werewolf. "That you suit neutral colours." He presented a palette of colour swatches of white, greys, browns, beiges and blacks, holding them up to drape over Harry's front to compare against his skin tone and hair colour in a mirror on the coffee table.
Harry nodded. The colours harmonised well with his warm skin, making his green eyes stand out in the small mirror on the table.
"I don't know much about fashion, but I think you're right," Harry agreed.
"Any colours should be in darker shades, but we can use some jewel tones in small amounts like a blazer, inner lining, shirt, tie, etcetera. A single article of clothing to pop out over the neutral tones but won't take away from your clear skin, vibrant eyes, and lustrous black hair,"
Sebastian gleefully continued, his excitement evident as he grabbed another few catalogues. With notepads at his elbow, he diligently wrote suggestion after suggestion, referencing pictures as the two conversed. Soon after, they were joined by Remus, who surveyed more simple styles in greys and beiges for himself.
They came to the final order after two hours of back-and-forth, with Remus's being the easiest, as he and Sebastian agreed that browns, beiges, and grey suited him best, along with a rare pop of pastel colours.
They commissioned two sets of dress robes and two sets of formal robes, each.
(Harry had never known there was a difference, but apparently, dress robes were worn at galas, balls, and parties, while formal robes were worn at meetings, councils, and court.)
They also ordered him three sets of day-wear robes, three black dress slacks, two dark grey dress slacks, five white, three black, and two cream button-up shirts, four form-fitting vests in different colours and designs, and three pairs of shiny black dress shoes, which Harry grimaced at.
Sebastian recommended fitting enchantments when Harry admitted his hope of growth in the coming school year. It was an extra cost, but Harry was buying his clothes for the first time. He was making up years of Second-Hand, oversized, scratchy, worn clothes and disappointment. He added the enchantments with Sebastian's promise that the enchantment would last for two years, letting the clothes grow with him until the enchantments wore off.
He was unsurprised that Twilfitt & Tattings didn't provide muggle clothing such as jeans, t-shirts and hoodies, but they did have a variety of coats in varying lengths. Harry's eyes sparkled. He decided he deserved to treat himself.
He requested multiple coats, leaving the style and colour up to Sebastian's artistic eye, having come to trust the man's expert judgement over the last few hours. The tailor grinned wildly as Harry paid the deposit amount, not flinching when he read the total, which was to be paid when they came to pick it up in a week. Remus coughed harshly, however, when he glimpsed it over Harry's shoulder.
"Thank you, Mr. Sebastian. I look forward to continued business with you," Harry smiled at the man, shaking his hand and resisting the urge to rip it away as the unpleasant tingle ran along his skin.
He was very good at hiding what he felt.
"It's been my pleasure, Harry, Mr. Remus. You'll start receiving the subscription for our seasonal catalogues from here on," Sebastian smiled, obviously happy with another successful client and the relatively large commission amount, as Harry grinned.
"Thanks, I appreciate that." They left Twilfitt & Tattings a couple of hours before lunch and decided to visit a few more shops before finding a little cafe to dine in.
They first stopped in the Magical Menagerie, perusing the items for owl care and deciding to splurge. He'd never been able to purchase better gear for Hedwig; his fear that the Dursleys would steal or throw the items out was a real threat.
He purchased a brand-new travel cage with an extendable stand and a warming and cushioning charm cast on the inside. It came with a water tray that automatically filled itself, for which Harry was incredibly grateful.
He got an enormous bag of stasis mice, the label stating that they had been humanely frozen with a spell to their brains and remained unfeeling but in comas. The witch behind the counter with thick black spectacles highly recommended it because the owls preferred their prey to have their hearts beating. Harry decided it was the least he could do for Hedwig.
Hedwig had appeared in his private ward the day he'd been moved from the joined wards, her eyes sharp as she surveyed him. Harry had no idea how she was getting in and out of the bank, but still felt terrible about the lack of clear skies as he'd barely written to anyone over the first two weeks of the Summer Holidays.
There was also an Owl Care kit with a feather brush, talon buffer, and beak sharpener. It came equipped with polish and even a year's worth of small tablets, which the worker explained were used to increase keratin and collagen to strengthen an owl's feathers and talons and an edible vaccination to help the owl resist parasites and diseases. Harry was amazed.
He exited with an entire pocket of his satchel crowded with owl accessories and another pocket just for an assortment of treats. Harry was excited to show Hedwig and get her opinion when she returned from delivering the letters he'd written to his friends.
They stopped in a few shops that sold wizarding tools, including a special edition wizarding wireless that could alert him when his favourite team's next match was playing.
Finally, they decided to start hunting down books. The list made for him by Master Blordak was long and filled with books he didn't know even existed.
His first destination was Flourish & Blotts, but after a quick perusal, he realised that most books were for the Hogwarts curriculum, and he hadn't received his book list yet. He did find the book he'd been curious about when he'd first visited the shop that Hagrid had dissuaded him from purchasing, so he bought it along with the few he found from his list.
Muggle-borns' guide to the Wizarding world
Wand movements and pronunciation - a guide to spell casting for Muggle-borns
Fundamentals of potion brewing - the reason your potions keep blowing up
Curses and Counter-Curses by Vindictus Viridian
Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter Actions by Anonymous
Charms of Defence and Deterrence by Catullus Spangle
A Collection of Three Hundred Recipes in Cookery, Physick and Surgery by Anonymous
Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions by Anonymous
The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts
Modern Magical History
Hogwarts: a History: The complete work by Bathilda Bagshot
It cost him eight Galleons for the eleven books, but he felt the topics were interesting and worth the price. They left the store with their new purchases and a grin and set off for the next bookshop. Remus spotted the Second-Hand Book Shop frequented by the Weasley Family and entered with a cheery bell chime.
Luckily, they found twenty-two books from his list at a significant discount of 9 Galleons and 13 Sickles, including;
First Aid - An Emergency Guide to Healing by Helena Pomfrey
Healing at Home with Herbs by Anonymous
Ancient Law - an unbiased collection of Volumes I-V of Creatures and Wixen Law by Master Hookclaw
Legislative Guide to the Proper Use of Magic Edition II- by the Ministry of Magic British Isles
Protection Charm Your Mind: A Practical Guide to Counter Legilimency by Franciscus Fieldwake
Living with Legilimens: Choose Your Mind Wisely by Master Steelhead
Guide to Advanced Occlumency by Franciscus Fieldwake
Gobbledygook: A Basic Guide by Master Grouchaxe
Gobbledygook: An Intermediary Guide by Master Grouchaxe
Gobbledygook: An Advanced Guide by Master Groucheaxe
The Nation of Goblins and Artefacts - How Not to Be a Pretentious Twit by Master Hookclaw
Chadwick's Charms: Volumes I-VII by Chadwick Boot
The few other bookstores in Diagon Alley they searched did not have the remaining books he was looking for until he entered Obscurus Books at the end of the road. There, he found only four at a much steeper price than he had paid at the last two stores. All were ministry-regulated self-updating books.
A Self-updating Compendium of the Wizengamot Seats and Holders
A Self-updating Compendium of the Ministry of Magic and its Positions
A Self-updating Compendium of current Market prices and stock
A Career Guide for the Prospecting Wix
He felt a bit cheated out of 15 Galleons, but considering it took him nearly an hour to find the four books and the number of charms to operate the damn things, he let it go. Not finding any more bookstores in the central alley, they quickly visited the other shops Harry had needed to visit with the hour they had to spare before lunch.
They visited Scribbulus Writing Instruments, purchasing a few ink pots and a book on display called 'Quill Care and Proper Use - Guide by Henfrey Scribbulus' when Remus pointed out how his handwriting should improve after Matron Ragnok had realigned his fingers.
His professors might thank him, at least.
A limited-edition journal also caught his eye. The sign stated it was never more expansive than a 48-page A4 notebook; however, once opened, the pages would continue being added indefinitely once the page was turned over. It also had an organisation function; by assigning a colour to the heading, he would only need to tap the corresponding colour inside the leather cover to be taken to the section he wanted.
It also came with a blood bonding or password function for the more squeamish and protection against most forms of damage.
Harry immediately bought a dark green leather one. He had never been great at keeping track of his notes transcribed on loose bits of parchment the way Hermione could. This fixed the problem. He bought another with a pale purple cover to give to Hermione for her birthday, which would be coming up early in the school year.
Their last stop was Slug & Jiggers Apothecary. There, Harry restocked his diminished supply of potion ingredients and splurged on as many different types of ingredients as he could. They were recommended to visit the side alleys when asked where the best places to grab a bite were.
The owner gave Remus a map, and circles were drawn around the places he recommended, including bookshops and general stores, whether they were reputable or not.
Stars were marked around where, in his opinion, the best and most affordable lunches were made. They thanked the man profusely for the help and the discount on Harry's bulk purchases.
Soon enough, Harry found himself sitting in the shade across from Remus outside a quaint cafe called 'The Raven's Nest.' It had a wall of books against the back, and patrons happily ate quietly as they read. Harry loved it.
He took out one of his new books, the Muggle-borns' Guide to the Wizarding World.
He wondered how much information he could have known when he started at Hogwarts if someone had recommended the book. Remus also selected one of the books they'd purchased that day, A Creature's Compendium, written by Master Sharpclaw, which had an unbiased account of Creatures like Werewolves, Goblins, Vampires and Veela. He seemed very intrigued about the perception of Creatures from another Creature.
They read quietly as their food floated out to them. Harry wondered briefly if it was from wizarding magic or house elf magic. He said a silent thank you under his breath and gratefully enjoyed a large slice of quiche and tea.
Remus ensured he ate as much as he could without making himself sick. Matron Ragnok had ordered that he increase his daily intake if he ever wanted to gain any muscle and fat on his emaciated body.
The Muggle-borns guide explained the start of finding out you are a wizard, provided instructions on accessing Diagon Alley and the Hogwarts Express, and provided a curriculum breakdown for the next seven years. It explained how the Magical Guardians system worked with the Heads of Houses and recommended supplementary guidebooks for each subject, which Harry readily added to his list.
He now understood why Hermione was so good at all her subjects in their first year, but fell behind in their flying lessons. Books couldn't teach someone to ride a broom. You had to feel it instinctually. He had a sneaking suspicion his friend had practised some spells in the weeks before their first year.
He finished his meal and bookmarked his place in the Muggleborn guide a half-hour later, marvelling how easy it was to complete both tasks now that his mind was clear and he could stomach more than half the meal.
Remus ushered them out of the cafe and recommended they follow the suggested stores from the apothecary. They began scoping the bookstores hidden inside alleys, staying away from Knockturn Alley for the moment. Neither was keen to jump straight into the sketchy alley if they could help it.
They found more books in the following five stores, all at a discount compared to the books in Diagon Alley, some even cheaper than those in the Second-Hand Book Shop. It was in those shops Harry found;
The Differences between Creature and Beast Volumes I-IV by Master Hookclaw
Etiquette - The Finest Guide for the Heir and Lord Volumes I - III by Lord Xavier Prince
A History of the Dark Arts and Forbidden Magics by Godelot
Secrets of the Darkest Art by Owle Bullock
101 Household Charms
Unfortunately, he couldn't find the last book on his list about the history and types of Necromancy. He didn't dare ask any of the shop owners, knowing the stigma against the dark arts, and necromancy was considered the darkest. This made him wonder about his inherited ability—the Peverell Family Necromancy.
He vowed to read the Peverell Grimoire that night.
Giving up on it for the day, they ventured into another shop recommended by Master Blordak.
They found the store, a little boutique named 'Madame Catalina's Muggle Apparel,' on the sign, accompanied by a sleeping white cat painted so it rested on the top. The tail swung magically across the words, and the cat's sky-blue eyes opened to peek down at them as they entered.
A song was playing as they stepped inside. Harry recognised it from a Wizarding Wireless that an older Gryffindor was known to play in the common room when they were studying.
The store was larger inside than the outside had made it look. One of the walls was lined with different brands of shoes Harry knew were popular in the Muggle World, from Converse to Vans to Doc Martens and brightly coloured sneakers.
Another had displays of different hoodies, cardigans and sweatshirts. The back wall was floor-to-ceiling mirrors, rusted and cracked in some places that looked purposeful rather than accidental.
Along the floor were shelves and hangers filled to the brim with different types of clothes, each with a distinct pattern, logo, and picture.
He noticed quickly that there was only one of each item, not even in different sizes—just a singular item in the same size as every other clothing item. Curious, he picked up the first article he found, a fluffy dark green cardigan.
"Can I help you?" the voice spoke from behind him, causing Harry to jump slightly as he spun to face the stranger.
He found Remus still at the door, surveying the room and watching Harry with amusement. The woman who'd approached him had voluminous curly-brown hair, a slightly more tamed version of Hermione's, and was observing him with large black eyes. Her skin was ivory, and she had laugh lines around her mouth and wrinkles at the corners of her eyes.
She was dressed in a tight black T-shirt with a green and black checkered skirt that reached her ankles but did not hide her black Doc Martens. Silver bangles and hoop earrings decorated her, and Harry thought her style was excellent.
"Hello, I was hoping to find a suitable wardrobe," Harry admitted, "Muggle clothes are more comfortable in casual settings, but I was told your clothes would be better."
The woman watched him momentarily, her eyes taking in his rats' nest of black hair, broken glasses and worn-out large clothes hanging off his frame like a clothing hanger under the borrowed robe. She must have seen something because her eyes lit up slightly, and she asked.
"What's your budget?"
"I don't have one."
Before leaving Gringotts that morning, he decided he would splurge on his wardrobe to replace a lifetime of secondhand, too-large clothes. Never again would he wear the threadbare grey cast-offs. If that meant fewer galleons, he wasn't concerned. He had a basilisk waiting to be sold and knew plenty of other funds would start pouring in with Master Blordak in charge of his accounts.
The woman's smile grew, "I should introduce myself. I am Madame Cataline, but you can call me Cat," She held out a hand, showing off numerous silver rings with lovely jewels encrusted in them.
"Harry," He took the hand, noting the firm shake and ignoring the prickling along his skin. Remus sat on a plush chair near the door, content to wait and leave Harry in the woman's care.
"We are going to be here a while, Harry," Cat warned, grinning happily.
They spent an hour choosing different articles of clothing, matching them, and trying them on. Harry learnt that everything in the shop had runes stitched into the hems, which could alter the size to fit the wearer perfectly, depending on the style. They also had protection runes against burning and cutting from anything on the level of a muggle kitchen knife.
Cat admitted to Harry that only materials made from magical plants and animals could handle the advanced rune configurations for protection against spells and magical beasts. She told him that the Hogwarts school uniforms were made from a type of cotton plant cross-pollinated with a magical plant known for its strength but not the texture of its material. Together, the two made a soft, warm material that could prevent most curriculum-based damage in classes like Potions, Herbology and Defence Against the Dark Arts.
She told him she frequently visited the muggle world, researching the current trends before purchasing items and stitching the runes herself. She admitted to trying to recreate the clothes with the magical fabric, but she found that the more intricate patterns and logos, like the band t-shirts Harry was fascinated by, often bled and lost shape quickly on the magical fabric.
Harry never thought he would be so fascinated by something like clothes, never having been allowed an interest before. Cat explained things in an easy-to-understand and engaging way that had Harry asking questions, something he'd been disciplined not to do.
Together, they slowly created a growing pile of clothes, not including the shoes, jackets, and jumpers on the walls they'd yet to look at.
They piled various band T-shirts, plain black and white shirts, flannel button-ups Harry thought looked comfortable and warm, cardigans, including the soft green one he had first picked up and fallen instantly in love with, jeans of different shades, lengths, and tightness and over twenty pairs of socks and boxer shorts.
Harry had blushed brightly when Cat asked if he needed them.
He was wary of the skinny jeans, as Cat called them, but she promised him that she'd stitched runes in them to keep them comfortable and prevent them from restricting his movements. Once he had tried them on, pairing them with different styles of tops and cardigans, he admitted they were all right.
Once Harry felt like he had taken half the clothes displayed on the racks and shelves on the ground, they started picking out hoodies, jumpers, hats, denim jackets and coats from the wall. Cat showed him some leather jackets that Harry thought were very cool and had only ever seen bikers wear on TV.
He imagined it was something Sirius would wear.
Throughout his life, Uncle Vernon had made it abundantly clear how much he hated leather jackets. How he thought they were for degenerates, poofs and criminals.
Harry grabbed two.
Finally, they examined the shoes. Cat had him try on two pairs of Doc Martens, one a simple black like her own and another a dark green that matched the general colour scheme they had been sticking to, much like Sebastian had urged him to base his wardrobe on.
She also convinced him to pick out what shoes he liked from her selection. He chose the Converse style and grabbed three pairs, finding he liked them more than the others. He also grabbed some plain white slip-on Vans with dirt-repelling runes on them. He eyed the other Doc Martens but decided that his dragon hide boots looked close enough and were made of better material.
With his mountain of clothes and shoes at the till, Harry was surprised when the amount came to half as much as his purchases from Twilfitt & Tattings would total. He used one of Gringott's bank cheques that Cat told him she had never needed to use before. He started the long process of carefully folding and putting away his clothes into his satchel, which Remus graciously minded for him while he continued reading his book.
Cat was very impressed with the item and proceeded to announce her determination to invest in one. She told him stories of her adventures in Muggle London, which would get cut short when her arms were laden with heavy shopping bags. Harry worried that she would be clearing out the shops in Muggle London now, but he laughed happily at her excited expression.
Cat stopped him from packing away a pair of dark jeans, a light grey T-shirt with a Skelton dancing in the middle, one of the green flannel tops and a plain black and white pair of high-top Converses. She pushed him into the changing room hidden behind the mirrors and told him she wouldn't let him continue walking around in rags. She looked pleased with herself as she set the horrible cast-offs and shoes on fire at the front of the shop.
He and Remus left Madame Catalina's Muggel Apparel with a large smile on Harry's face and a much fuller bag. It amazed him how he had almost fifty books and an entire wardrobe inside his satchel, but it felt no heavier than when he had left that morning.
Harry loved magic.
It was nearing dinner, and Harry and Remus, not wanting to return to the bank yet, wandered back to the Raven's Nest. He didn't know why, but the cafe drew Harry in. Remus found a table inside for the evening, joined by two other patrons, while Harry perused the shelves as they waited for their creamy chicken pot pie to be brought out.
The wall was packed with books, from children's stories to textbooks. A sign above the bookshelf read, 'Take a book, Leave a book.' Harry thought that was a rather good idea, if slightly naive. Without a monitoring system, it would be difficult to tell when someone wasn't holding their end of the arrangement... unless someone was monitoring it, like the house elves he assumed were in the kitchen.
On the middle shelf, he found a book of fairy tales that reminded him of the Muggle World bedtime stories. It was called Tales of Beedle the Bard and was filled with short stories, much like the Grimm Fairytales.
Not having grown up in the wizarding world, he was curious about what Wixen children grew up listening to. He took the book and sat down. Remus raised an eyebrow at him, and Harry lifted the cover so he could see.
Remus smiled nostalgically. "My mother read one of those stories every night before bed. Her favourite was the Tale of the Three Brothers. She stopped after..."
He shook his head, face turning sad before quickly wiping the expression. "A lot of those stories are rumoured to be based on true events that happened centuries ago, some even before Hogwarts was formed. I'm not sure how much they've been altered, what with the effect of time and misinterpretations, but you should find them interesting,"
Harry smiled slightly as he listened to his ex-professor talk. Remus always had a soothing tone and relaxing body language when he explained things. Even if he explained what the weather had been like while Harry was drugged to the gills with potions and locked in his private ward, talking to Remus always settled that constant urge to get up and escape the place holding him.
Cracking the index, he quickly found the story that Remus's mum had loved—the Tale of the Three Brothers.
Turning to the right section, the first page caught his breath in his throat. Where authors liked to place drawings or symbols above their chapter titles was a particular symbol Harry recognised. He quickly looked up at Remus and back down to the book before turning it around and sliding it along the table.
He tapped the symbol drawn on the page, watching Remus's eyes widen. Harry placed his left hand next to the book and willed the finely engraved golden band of the Potter Heir Ring to burn away in white flames, slowly replaced by the strange black ring with silver and gold flecks. The unnatural bone wings lit up with white flames before he slipped the ring off, and they examined the engravings on the inner band.
"Domini Sumus Mortis," he whispered as the little symbol at the end and the start of these words flashed. It was the same symbol illustrated in the book: a triangle drawn around a circle with a line cutting vertically through the two shapes. Elegantly simple.
"We are masters of death," Remus said back, eyebrow raised.
He slipped the ring back on and started reading, scooting his chair so he and Remus could read together without getting sore necks.
Three brothers, travelling along a lonely, winding road at twilight, reached a deep, treacherous river where anyone who attempted to swim or wade would drown. Learned in the magical arts, the brothers conjured a bridge with their wands and proceeded to cross.
Halfway through the bridge, a hooded figure stood before them. The figure was the enraged spirit of Death, cheated of his due. Death cunningly pretends to congratulate them and proceeds to award them with gifts of their own choosing.
The eldest brother, a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence. Death granted his wish by fashioning the Elder Wand from a branch of a nearby elder tree standing on the banks of the river.
The second brother, an arrogant man, chose to further humiliate death, and asked for the power to recall the deceased from the grave. Death granted his wish by crafting the Resurrection Stone from a stone picked from the riverbank.
The third and youngest brother, who was the most humble and wise, did not trust Death and asked for something to enable him to go forth without Death being able to follow. A reluctant Death, most unwillingly, handed over his own invisibility cloak.
The three brothers took their prizes and soon went on their separate ways.
The eldest brother travelled to a village where a wizard with whom he had quarrelled lived. He sought a duel and fought the wizard using the wand, instantly killing the latter. Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the eldest brother walked to an inn not far from the duelling site and spent the night there. Taken by his conscience and lust of the Elder Wand's power, the eldest brother boasted of this wand gifted by Death and his own invincibility. That very night, an unknown murderous wizard crept up to the eldest brother as he slept, drunk from wine. The wizard stole the wand, then murdered the oldest brother by slitting his throat for good measure. That was when Death took the first brother for his own.
The middle brother returned to his home, where he lived alone. Turning the stone thrice in his hand, the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry before her untimely death appeared at once before him, much to his delight. Yet she was sad and cold, separated from him by a veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. Finally, the middle brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, committed suicide by hanging so as to truly join her. That was when Death took the second brother for his own.
As the years passed, Death searched for the youngest brother but never succeeded. It was only when the third brother reached a great age that he took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son. Greeting Death as an old friend, they departed life as equals.
So absorbed in the story, Harry hadn't noticed his dinner appear before him with a cheery 'Pop'.
He finished the tale with a pensive frown, unconsciously digging into his food as he wondered about the third brother while Remus gave him a contemplative look.
It couldn't be a coincidence that The Peverell Family crest, his family crest, was in this book about three brothers, one of whom receives a cloak the same as the one passed down in Harry's family for generations. He wondered about the wand and stone. Were they also real? They weren't a part of his heirlooms, nor was the Slytherin Grimoire.
He shook his head. There was no point in thinking about this. It was a fairy tale. It might have been inspired by his ancestor and his two older brothers, but there was no way Death had made such powerful items because three ordinary wizards had created a bridge over a river.
He quietly thanked the table for the meal as he returned the book to its rightful place, and they made their quiet journey back to Gringotts.
Harry greeted every Goblin he passed with a bright smile and even managed to remember most of their names despite how similar they all looked.
Upon their return to his private ward, he immediately began unpacking his purchases. Hedwig had yet to return, so he started loading his new trunk with his clothes, filling the hangers, drawers, and cubby holes with a carefulness he had never shown Dudley's cast-offs.
He slowly organised his books, dividing them into subjects and learning levels. He removed the most basic from each subject and the first volumes in each series and placed them beside his bed. He'd already learnt and reviewed a lot under the Goblins and Remus, but he felt he still had much more to learn.
If he wanted to catch up to his yearmates by the time they were to board the Hogwarts Express come September first, he would need to read as much as he could. He kept his new green journal beside him with a self-inking pen from his mother's trunk with a metal tip but no annoying feather plumage to smack him.
Remus had already set himself up in the pull-out cot he'd commandeered in the corner of the room. When Harry had assured the man he would be fine staying at Gringotts on his own, Remus hadn't said a word and started unpacking his things. Harry had never told him, but he was grateful to have an adult looking out for him, helping him make decisions even if the young boy inside him told him not to trust adults.
Harry dressed in his new comfortable pyjamas, took his evening potions and started reading the first book he had chosen: Protection Charm Your Mind: A Practical Guide to Counter Legilimency by Franciscus Fieldwake.
Instantly, Harry was intrigued. The book spoke of an advanced mind magic that had multiple benefits.
"Occlumency," Harry read quietly, deciding to take notes after reading through the introductory chapter.
"Occlumency is an ancient art that has existed since medieval times to ward against outside forces and protect the mind. The most common danger to one's mind is Legilimency, performed by a practised Legilimens. Legilimency involves magically navigating through the many layers of a person's mind and interpreting what is found.
"The two can be considered attack and defence, a weapon and shield. Occlumency shields the mind from Legilimens, preventing access and influence over one's thoughts, emotions and memories, and can, on rare occasions, reduce the effects of veritas serum.
"The basics of Occlumency involve clearing the mind via meditation and slowly sorting through the memories, emotions and thoughts, organising them to bring order before attempting to build the shield. Doing this at night before bed is recommended to allow sleep to stabilise the mind after changing it.
"Additionally, another less-known benefit of practising Occlumency is the gain in memorisation ability. Some of the powerful Occlumens claim to have perfect memory, able to copy entire books from memory alone.
"Chapter 1 provides a how-to guide for Simple Meditation Techniques for a beginner. If you are already well-versed in meditation, skip to Chapter 2 - Organising the Mindscape."
Harry picked up his Journal and pen and started taking notes. He chose blue for the section on Mind Magics, finding it soothing for a meditation subject. Without the blocks on his intelligence, he found it easy to take notes, mark the important points and make a summarized list of the steps of meditation and clearing the mind.
Unbeknownst to Harry, Remus watched from his cot as his ward mumbled to himself as he studied, pride gleaming in his eyes.
Harry began meditating that night.
The book told him to breathe first. He was dubious but followed the instructions after blowing out his bedside candle. Harry lay in the dark, listening to the soft huffs of Remus's sleep-heavy breaths.
He inhaled deeply for as long as he could, holding his breath for a moment and slowly releasing it.
It felt pointless at first, his mind clogged with thoughts swirling from weeks of completely uprooting his life for the second time. But as he concentrated on breathing, ensuring every exhale matched his inhale, and waiting for a single moment between cycles, he felt his mind empty.
Before he realised what happened, he fell into a deep sleep.
The following day, Harry woke the most rested he had in his life. Hedwig was perched beside him, staring down at him with large amber eyes. He smiled at her, offering a frozen mouse, which Hedwig snatched up with a happy trill.
Harry obediently took his potions when Matron Ragnok entered the room, as she did every morning. She greeted him with a small, sharp smile and a short diagnostic ritual that Harry thought he could replicate perfectly, given how often she performed it on him.
The only difference to their morning routine after Harry and Remus ate their nutrition-packed breakfasts while Matron Ragnok ran all her tests on Harry, documenting his statistics meticulously, was the soft knock that echoed from the door.
Harry paused in the middle of asking Matron Ragnok the difference between Goblin Diagnostic ritual and Wizarding Diagnostic spells as he looked to the door, head cocked in confusion and wariness.
He knew immediately that whoever was on the opposite side of the door was not a Goblin. Living with them for over half a month made Harry aware that the Goblins were a proud, candid race that did not do things meekly. When a goblin wished to visit him or Remus, they wrapped their knuckles on the door as if to make sure even those hard of hearing would be aware of their presence.
Matron Ragnok glanced at them, waiting for Harry's wary nod, before calling out, "Enter."
The door opened on silent hinges, revealing a tall wizard in navy robes that Harry recognised as belonging to the Curse-Breaker Department. The wizard pulled back their hood, revealing a bright orange ponytail tied at the nape of his neck. The wizard had a great fang dangling from one earring and bright blue eyes. He was tall, thin and roguishly handsome.
Harry immediately knew that this man was a Weasley and, if he wasn't mistaken, the eldest of the bunch.
"Hello," The wizard greeted, bowing to Matron Ragnok before turning to Harry and Remus. "It's my pleasure to meet you both properly. I've heard much about both of you from my brothers and sister. I'm Bill Weasley,"
"It's a pleasure to meet you, too; call me Remus," Remus introduced himself, taking the tall man's hand firmly. They were of equal height.
Harry took in a deep breath. He'd been considering how he wanted to introduce himself since learning of his given name and still hadn't come up with what he wanted his true name to be. He decided to try one of his many combinations now.
"Hi, Bill. Your brothers have told me a lot about you as well. I'm... My name is Hadrian, but most call me Harry," he took the offered hand as Bill surveyed his face with a soft, understanding smile.
"What do you want to be known as?" Bill asked. Remus stood beside the two, a silent, reassuring shadow.
"I... I don't know yet," He admitted. He let go of Bill's hand, taking a seat on the bed and offering Bill to sit on one of the many stools collected around the room. The Curse-Breaker picked one, dragging it closer to the bed before transfiguring it into a more comfortable cushioned chair with a wordless wand flick. "I've gone my whole life as Harry, so... I guess it's just easier to stay as him for now,"
Bill nodded, understanding. "Very well. Until you say otherwise, I shall address you as Harry." Harry smiled, nodding happily.
"Now, I've come here to talk to you about the assignment I've been researching for the past few weeks. I've learnt quite a bit about that soul shard stuck in your scar," Bill said, surprising Harry. Remus nodded his head as though he expected this topic.
"What have you found out?" Remus asked, perched beside Harry but careful not to touch the boy.
"First, it's called a Horcrux. It's a very powerful and dangerous type of soul magic under the category of necromancy. The easiest way I can explain it is when a wizard, in your case, wishes to break their soul into two even pieces to store part of it and live on even when their body breaks down. It is incredibly difficult to achieve and requires a ritual and an act of murder to succeed. Now, with a usual Horcrux, the soul would be stored in an object that is hidden and so heavily warded that no one could hope to destroy it, even if they could figure out how to. This object must have some form of value to the wizard and is the focus of the ritual.
"I've checked every record I could get my hands on, but there has never been a documented, living vessel for a Horcrux. For all intents and purposes, it should not be possible for a body to house a soul and a half without the host deteriorating within a few years. That is why I've concluded that the size of the soul in your scar couldn't be larger than a sliver. It can't be more than three per cent of Tom Riddle's soul with you still alive and functioning normally. It would have to be less or you'd be in a coma. That would mean the originator had to have split their soul at least five times before accidentally making you a Horcrux."
"Accidentally?" Harry asked. "How do we know it was an accident?"
"Because we know of only two ways of destroying a Horcrux. The first is with a spell, a curse really, called Fiendfyre, that will not stop burning until there's nothing left to burn. It could completely wipe out Britain before it begins losing power. The only other way we know is by having the caster destroy their own Horcrux. Destroying a Horcrux kills the soul, snapping the hair-thin connection between the caster and their soul pieces and their sanity. You Know Who was determined to kill you that night. I don't doubt the maniac had no idea he had made you into one,"
Remus let out a great breath. "Are you telling me that the only way to get this thing out of him is to either burn him alive or hand him over to You Know Who to be murdered?" Remus growled, eyes flashing golden and his chest rumbling protectively.
Bill sighed, not revealing if he was intimidated by the other man's raw power, before looking back at the two.
"As I said, there's never been another case like yours, Harry. I've theorised and consulted Masters Spearbeak and Rickshaw numerous times, and there are only a few ways we can think to get it out of you."
"I'm all ears," Harry leant forward so his elbows rested on his knees.
"The first is trick the Horcrux into thinking you are dead," Bill began but stopped when Remus growled low in his throat. "Which wouldn't guarantee to destroy or remove the Horcrux, and it may simply stay attached to your corpse as if it were a regular object, possibly remaining even on your skeleton," Bill said.
Harry shuddered, thinking of his brittle skeleton with a big black mark on the skull, oozing Riddle's soul.
Bill noticed the looks this suggestion received and grinned slightly. "It gets worse," he promised. "The next way is to find some way to transfer the Horcrux to another object. This isn't promising, as not only could the procedure kill you, as it almost did in the ritual, but the object would have to have some value to You Know Who. If we don't get a suitable object, the Horcrux could reattach to Harry or attack someone else and go on a rampage until no one can stop it except Fiendfyre."
Remus grimaced at this suggestion, remembering a small body writing on the ground, screaming as dark blood spurted out of a lightning-shaped scar. "Is there no other way?"
Bill tilted his head back and forth consideringly. "We have a theory," he admitted, "Compared to the other two, it is far less likely to work."
"But?" Harry prompted.
"It's the most likely that you'll survive," Bill said.
Remus let out a heavy breath. "What does it involve?" he asked.
"It's not been tested, and it's only a theory... we have no evidence that this may even work... but if you have a Creature Inheritance, the Horcrux may attempt to detach itself from you and essentially be a separate being. It is trying to absorb your magic and take over your mind. The ward I placed is temporary and won't last longer than a few more weeks, maybe less before I have to replace it. By undergoing a creature inheritance, the Horcrux may reject your magic and body, and the creature will protect you from it.
"This should make it easier to remove the Horcux, and if we can convince the Goblin Chiefs, we could use an ancient goblin artefact to hold the soul shard without it bonding to another person or object. We would need to do the ritual with you inside at least two layers of wards, and you would also have to play a role in this to succeed. However, you have a greater chance of surviving than any other plan we've thought of, even if it has a decreased likelihood of succeeding in expelling the Horcrux." Bill said, looking warily between Harry and Remus as though waiting for one of them to start shouting.
Remus watched Bill, an unreadable look in his eyes, while Harry sagged in grief and disappointment as though his last hopes had died.
"I don't have a Creature inheritance," he said, swallowing a large block that had formed in his throat. "Does that mean the only way to get him out... to kill him once and for all is to let myself be killed?"
"No," Remus said, taking Harry into his arms and holding him to his chest, just like he did on that first day as Harry's Guardian. "No, Cub. You aren't walking to any death. Do you hear me? You are going to live a long, fulfilling life, understand?"
Harry sniffed, refusing to release the tears as he nodded into Remus' chest.
"You don't have to have an ancestor to get a creature inheritance," Bill said cautiously, startling Harry into pulling back from Remus's. Remus kept a hand on Harry's shoulder, bringing Harry a wealth of comfort he'd never known a simple gesture could offer.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked. Bill glanced at Remus.
"The full moon is in two days..." Bill prompted, watching Remus warily.
Remus's eyes widened.
"Bite him?" Remus choked, staring at Bill like the other man had just told them to jump off a cliff with no parachute. Bill nodded. "Are you insane?" He snatched his hand away from Harry as though the simple touch could infect Harry with Lycanthropy.
Bill shook his head. "It's the only way we've found that has even a thirty per cent chance of keeping Harry alive. If Harry's test is correct, the blasted thing survived Basilisk venom in his system. The only way this thing is dying is if Harry dies with it, and the only way it will be destroyed is if Harry burns to death or we give him to the man that killed his mum and dad, and that's not exactly feasible right now."
"I can't knowingly curse him... I can't place that burden on their son!" Remus buried his face in his hands, growling at a subvocal level.
Harry ignored the part inside him that expected to be rejected and let his hand gently pat the man's back. Remus snorted quietly as he felt the tiny hand and lifted his face to look at his ward. "I'm rather sure I should be comforting you,"
Harry shrugged. "I've had my whole life to come to terms with the fact that one day I could never wake up again," Remus's eyebrows furrowed worriedly. Bill leaned more onto his knees, looking at Harry like he was examining the boy for the first time.
"I could have died multiple times in the last three years since learning about magic, too. I nearly did, and it was only luck that Fawkes was there to counteract the Basilisk Venom and that I could produce a Patronus strong enough to drive back those dementors. If becoming a werewolf keeps me living past my expiration date, then so be it. Like I told you in that cafe, I know more monstrous beings that don't turn into wolves once a month."
Remus released a breath he was holding and buried his face again. His leg bounced, his socked feet tapping soundlessly on the smooth stone floor.
"The ward on the Horcrux won't last much longer before it's overcome and starts draining Harry. We can create an environment deep in the cave system so your wolf can only bite Harry in a controlled environment. Have you been taking the potion?" Bill asked.
Remus nodded slowly. "Severus has been making it for me until the new school year starts. I assume he feels some inkling of guilt for outing my... furry problem to become public knowledge,"
"Good, your wolf should be more docile under the wolfsbane and make our job-"
There was a clatter of metal and glass behind them. They turned, finding Matron Ragnok looking at Remus in horror. Harry felt terrible that he'd forgotten the Goblin was still in the room, writing notes on his progress.
"Did you just say Wolfsbane?!" Matron Ragnok shouted, looking between the three wizards with her beetle-black eyes wide. "The Wolfsbane potion?"
Bill nodded slowly, "Yes–" he began, but was interrupted again.
"Do not take any more!" She commanded, startling them all into leaning away from the enraged goblin.
"Um..." Harry grabbed her attention, and her fiery eyes turned to him. "What's wrong with Moony taking Wolfsbane? It helps alleviate the symptoms, doesn't it?" Harry let the nickname slip accidentally, causing Remus to give him a small, unseen smile.
"You foolish wizards!" She shouted, making them all flinch, "Whoever made that potion didn't do diddly squat in the way of testing it before marketing the recipe as a way to make the wolf more docile. It suppresses the wolf entirely during the moon, allowing the human mind to stay in control! If a single potion is missed leading up to the moon, it frees the wolf from months of suppression! Imagine being trapped in a coffin and buried alive for months and suddenly being let out. How angry would you be?"
Remus gaped at the Matron, mouth moving, but no sound left him.
"How long have you been taking the potion?" Matron Ragnok ordered.
"Oh... um... my first dose was on the eighteenth of September last year... I took a dose every day until the night of the moon. I did this every month," Matron Ragnok nodded and started pulling vials from a locked and warded cupboard in the corner of the room.
"We need to purge the remaining Wolfsbane from your system immediately. If you were to bite Heir Potter with that in your system, it would cause infection, and the chance of the bite taking would be significantly reduced. An infection of that calibre would most certainly kill Heir Potter, what with his immune system in complete tatters, not to mention I haven't gotten to give him all the missed magical vaccinations he should have been getting throughout the years," she thrust a glowing yellow potion into Remus's hands and stared him down until he popped the cork and chugged it.
He gagged but managed to drink the entire bottle. "You will want to stay in the bathroom for a few hours. That potion is unpleasant and designed to purge your body of all impurities. I'll need you to take one every morning and night until the full moon to be safe. Your wolf will experience withdrawal symptoms for the next few months and be a bit more violent, but this should shorten what would've been almost a year of your wolf going on a rampage. Taking one of those potions the day of your transformation until your wolf settles will help as well,"
Remus looked green around the gills, but Harry wasn't sure what had caused it, considering the multiple factors currently bombarding the man.
"Back to what you were discussing, I'm all for this idea," Matron Ragnok surprised them, "Lycanthropy may have the unfortunate side effect of forced transformation every month, but it also comes with a wealth of advantages, including faster healing, better senses, a fortified body and a stronger immune system. These would greatly benefit Heir Potter, as he desperately needs at least two out of the four right now. It may even help you catch up on the growth you've been denied." She bustled away, growling under her breath in Gobbledygook.
It must've been rude because Bill choked slightly before laughing, shaking his head.
"So, Remus, will you let Harry take the bite?" Bill asked.
Remus sighed, standing to move towards the bathroom as his face began paling considerably, and his eyes glowed subtly. "If it's the only way to save Harry, I'll do it. I'll give my consent. However, Harry, I want you to research everything you can find on Werewolves. Look at that book I was reading, the one written by Master Sharpclaw. It is far less biased than any information written by Wizards. When I get back-" He covered his mouth and looked about to throw up his breakfast. "I'll give you a quiz, and we can return to your practice,"
"I can help," Bill said, raising his hand. "I got twelve OWLs and seven NEWTs. One of them was in Defence Against the Dark Arts. I can help him study in the mornings while you're... incapacitated," Bill offered.
"We can't inconvenience you like this," Remus said, shaking his head but stopping quickly when his face paled further and he swayed.
"I'm free to do what I want until that Horcrux is either in a warded box or destroyed. I've got meetings in the afternoon with Master Spearbeak and the other Researchers in the Curse-Breaker Department and the Ritual Department to develop a Ritual that will target the Horcrux, but otherwise, my mornings are free. I'm more than willing to help someone as keen about defensive and combat spells as I was when I was Harry's age," Bill told Remus earnestly, flashing Harry a cheeky smile.
Remus nodded slowly, "Alright. Thank you, Bill. I'll be- I'll be back soon." He rushed into the bathroom, apparently unable to resist the potion's effects any longer.
Bill grimaced. "Nasty work, that potion. Had to take it a few times myself in the past," He admitted. Harry laughed at the face Bill was making and understood why Ron and the Twins always spoke with so much admiration for their eldest brother.
Bill clapped his hands and rubbed them together, a gleam in his eyes Harry thought was reminiscent of Hermione when she got into a research binge.
"So, what are we working on first?"
The following two days leading up to the full moon were wrought with preparation. The goblins assured Remus that they would build a cage that not even a poltergeist could escape from and added chains so each limb would be restrained upon Remus's insistence.
Both mornings, Bill would join Harry for breakfast while Remus was given his potion, locked in the bathroom until a couple of hours before lunch, and then given until three o'clock of peace before being forced to take another dose.
The two worked on perfecting Harry's pronunciation of Latin and Gobbledygook, making sure Harry understood the translations and could follow along in a conversation.
They researched Werewolves in the afternoon, and Harry was sure he'd memorised everything in his books about the shapeshifters. The wizarding textbooks described Werewolves as bloodthirsty beasts with no morals that live to infect and consume humans. They stated that until the invention of the Wolfsbane potion, there was no way to control the beasts except to lock them up or kill them.
The Goblins said otherwise.
According to the Goblins, Werewolves had a diverse culture, and the true-born packs lived in harmony with their wolves. Harry learned about mates, packs, full moon rituals, habits and techniques to keep the wolf happy and docile instead of rampaging.
The more he learned, the more okay he was with being turned into a werewolf, even without the added benefit of growth, healing and the chance to be host to Riddle’s Horcrux no longer.
Matron Ragnok gave him another book that discussed the care and healing techniques specific to werewolves and what could and could not be provided in an emergency. He learned about the myths behind Wolfsbane and Silver, how a Werewolf's saliva was an anticoagulant, and that there was a higher death rate from a Werewolf bite than from turnings because it would cause the victim to bleed out.
He learned the only way to stop this lethal property of the bite was to stuff the wound with a compound of Wolfsbane and Powdered Silver. The goblins performed more tests on the Wolfsbane Potion than the wizards did and discovered more side effects than they had documented. One of them was that the horrible wolf form Remus had transformed into on the night of Pettigrew's escape was because of the potion.
The book explained that the Werewolf should be indistinguishable from a regular wolf, except for a few more minor details that would only be noticed if you were looking closely. In trying to keep the human mind in control, the potion mistakenly combines the two forms into a disturbing amalgamation of Human and Beast. It causes more lingering pain after the transformation is over.
Harry was jittery and nervous on the day of the full moon, the fifteenth of July, but it was nothing compared to Remus.
The man paced around Harry's private ward, stopping only when the purging potion forced him into the bathroom for an hour, the length of time shortening as the vile potion cleared from the cells in his body.
They tried to work on Harry's Occlumency and then his Latin but found it hard to concentrate and quickly gave up. Harry had already finished all his Summer homework while revising his entire Hogwarts curriculum from the past three years and couldn't focus enough to read his new books or Grimoires.
He took to grooming Hedwig, and within an hour, her feathers were perfectly soft, her beak gleaming, and her talons razor sharp.
They were only distracted when a group of goblins escorted them into the depths of Gringotts, and the preparations began.
It was still a few hours until moonrise, yet Remus was carefully and meticulously being chained inside a double-doored cage inside a large vault with a thick, heavy door. Harry was allowed to stay with him as they wrapped thick manacles around his wrists and ankles and a large cast iron band around his throat. Each had a long chain connected to the ground in a star formation.
Remus grinned even as his body shook from the slowly increasing body aches, and his skin paled every minute.
"Remember to follow every instruction Matron Ragnok and Masters Spearbeak and Rickshaw give you. Don't let him drag you in closer, and never expose your neck. Okay?" Remus implored, grin wobbling slightly.
"I understand," Harry said as the goblins began wrapping thick chains around Remus's arms and chest, restraining them tightly. Harry moved forward and hugged the man tightly, burying his nose in the hollow where the man's neck met his collar. "It'll be alright," Harry assured him.
Remus choked out a tense laugh before he buried his face in Harry's jet-black hair, inhaling the boy's scent deeply. "We'll be alright, Cub," He repeated quietly, leaning slightly into the boy.
Harry pulled back slightly and looked up into eyes that had been dimly glowing since midday. "Why haven't you called me Harry?" he asked, startling the man. "You've called me 'Cub' several times, but you've never said my name since before the ritual... why?"
Remus gave Harry a fond smile. "Because you haven't introduced yourself yet," He answered. "You haven't told me who you want to be known as. You can remain Harry Potter to the public until we get Dumbledore's nose out of your business if you want, but I would never call you anything you didn't wish to be referred to as,"
Harry blinked a few times, stunned. "Really?" He asked, face more hopeful than he was ever allowed to be. Memories of a little boy who thought his name was 'Boy' and 'Freak' before being told his name to not get into trouble with child protective services rose from the waves in his mind.
"I-... I don't mind 'Cub'. In front of people who aren't aware of all—all of this, it would be better to call me Harry and pretend you aren't my Guardian so Dumbledore can't take me back... but when it's just us with the people we trust... I wouldn't mind being called Hadri like you did when I was a baby," Harry admitted, looking away from those golden eyes that widened in astonishment.
Remus's face broke into a blinding smile. He tried to pull Harry back in but was stopped quickly by the chains. He grunted in frustration, a much deeper and primal growl reverberating from his chest than the ones Harry had become accustomed to.
Harry understood what the frustrated Werewolf was trying to do and rewrapped his arms around him. Remus buried his face in Harry's hair, who was chuckling between them.
"Thank you, Hadri," Remus whispered, and Harry beamed. "Please be careful, Cub. If anything were to happen to you, I'd never forgive myself," He said solemnly. Harry nodded into his shoulder.
"I'll try," said Harry. He stepped back and out of reach when Remus groaned in pain, breathing heavily as dusk slowly descended into the night.
"Heir Potter," Master Spearbeak approached him, Bill at his side. Harry nodded in greeting. "We have everything ready. Only you need to be in the cage. As soon as you're in range, let the wolf bite you and get out. We'll have spells ready to try and stun him if he breaks free, but as you know, they are resistant to most offensive spells. We'll have multiple Goblin healers ready to administer the Wolfsbane and Silver mixture, so get one good, clean bite, and everything will be fine."
"Thank you, Master Spearbeak," Harry said as the Goblin nodded and walked back to where the chains were being pulled taut, forcing Remus on his knees to be eye-level with the Goblins milling around them.
"Ready, Harry?" Bill asked, the nervous energy buried inside him as he tried to act professionally around so many higher-status Goblins. Still, Harry could see his finger tapping against a lovely bronze ring with a deep blue gem in the centre. He'd guess it was the Weasley Heir Ring.
"I don't think anyone has ever had to do all this work to be bitten by a Werewolf before," Harry said instead, not wanting to let the man see how nervous he was t00.
Bill laughed, "I don't think anyone has ever purposely taken the bite before now,"
Harry grimaced. "We do seem insane, don't we?"
Bill nodded, grinning. They watched as the Goblins gave one final check of Remus's bonds before most of them left the temporary cell inside the vault. The plan was to get the bite, get out of the vault and lock the door before the Werewolf could reorient himself and attempt a breakout.
They had no idea if the chains would hold back an enraged Werewolf coming off the Wolfsbane potion.
A loud crack rents the air, startling Harry and Bill. They turned, seeing Remus's arm bent at an odd angle as the Goblins around him slowly backed away.
"Show time," Harry muttered, earning an odd look from Bill. Harry grinned, "Muggle saying," Bill snorted.
Most of the Goblins left the vault, with only the most advanced on standby outside the cage as Remus's bones continued to crack and pop out of alignment, skin stretching. The man groaned in pain; his skin darkened with the emergence of brown bristles, and his clothes, the old ones they had kept for such a moment, tore at the seams.
His nose and mouth elongated, becoming more snout-like, and his eyes flashed from the dim glow they had been in all day to bright gold. His ears stretched, becoming more lupine and a stubby, malformed tail extended from his backside.
The Werewolf didn't struggle and only whimpered quietly in the silent vault. Its arms were wrapped tightly in the chains that bulged from the change in body structure and the addition of muscles.
"Now, Harry, while it's disoriented," Bill whispered, and Harry watched as the beast's ear twitched in their direction.
Harry moved forward, passing through the cage door as quietly as he could, his steps soft on the stone floor as the beast's whimpering slowed.
"Hey, Moony," Harry whispered, and the ears twitched again, the whimpers dying. "It's your lucky day, buddy. You get to take a nice bite out of me,"
Moony's head moved until he stared at Harry, eyes glinting ferally as a growl began echoing in the vault. Harry gulped but kept going, inching forward carefully. Moony bared his teeth, snapping them at Harry as frothy saliva built up in the corner of his maw.
"It's me, Moony. It's Hadri, Cub, remember?" Harry kept up the commentary, feeling better about filling the silence than letting the Werewolf try to freak him out with the growling.
There was a snarl and a rattling of chains as he tried to pounce. He snarled at the chains, briefly taking his attention from Harry.
Harry breathed in deeply, his heart pounding faster than when he faced the Basilisk. He hadn't had a choice then and no way of backing out lest he wanted Ginny to die. He hadn't been thinking back then, but he was now. He has people behind him, backing him up and understanding if he wants to abandon the plan.
Harry shook his hands of the nerves and darted forward, startling the Werewolf for a second before he snarled. Harry braced himself as he swung his hand out, baiting as Moony growled, maw opened to snap at him, and Harry twisted.
They'd debated where Harry should get the bite. They had talked about the most accessible place on his arms, but the bite scar no magic save a glamour could remove would be an all too obvious sign that Harry had been turned. The ankle was a good idea, but it was just as easy for someone to glimpse if he wasn't careful.
It was Remus who had the final suggestion.
He had advised a place near where he'd received his bite on his waist. It was where he'd wished the Bastard Greyback had bitten him so he could've removed his shirts at the beach or in front of his dorm mates without shame and fear in those first few years when he'd been terrified someone would learn his secret.
Harry's seeker-fast reflexes took advantage of when Moony's jaw was wide enough to turn and shove his hip into the space between the razor-sharp teeth. Moony didn't give him a chance to regret it as the Werewolf clamped down on the bone, and Harry let out an involuntary shout of pain.
The only disadvantage they found with this location was that it mainly consisted of Harry's hip bone and no gushy organs for the wolf to tear out of him.
Harry had a lot of experience with getting bone fractures and dislocations, but nothing could have prepared him for the pain of forty-two fangs clamping down on his hip and adding more and more force. He heard the grinding as blood gushed out between Moony's teeth, soaking quickly into Harry's clothes.
Then, around the blood and growling, Moony sniffed and immediately quieted down. Moony sniffed again, and suddenly, the pressure was slowly coming off Harry's hip. Harry gasped at the sudden flare of pain as more blood burst from the wounds. He briefly wondered if he'd pierced an artery.
Moony whimpered, blood dripping down his chin and neck. Moony pressed his snout into Harry's wound, smearing blood across the beast's nose. Moony whimpered again. Harry refused to faint. He was used to pain. He would survive this even as blood dribbled onto the floor.
Bill ran up to the cage with a few Goblins, seeing the Werewolf suddenly docile, only to halt as Moony growled, and they stopped inside the door. He snarled and barked when he saw the people approaching. He clamped his teeth into Harry's ripped second-hand shirt, tugging at Harry as if to bring him closer, away from the strangers.
Harry's head spun, and he stumbled away from the Werewolf, his shirt ripping. He was out of the Werewolf's strange game of tug-of-war. Moony growled at the strangers again before whimpering at Harry. The chains rattled as Moony tried to break free of the chain, making small canine sounds like a kicked puppy.
It was strange to see such a monstrous amalgamation of Wolf and Man making sounds one would expect from a poodle.
The goblins flinched as Moony yanked hard against the chains, and the metal groaned under the enhanced strength. Harry stumbled again and barely stayed on his feet. His skin paled more as a trail of blood followed him.
Moony became increasingly hysterical, trying to get to Harry as the boy tried to get to the Healers. Moony howled, and the first chain snapped.
"Hurry up, Harry!" Bill shouted, keeping carefully still at the cage's entrance, a white-knuckled grip wrapped around the edge and eyeing the Werewolf.
Harry tried to say something, but a wild burst of vertigo sent him staggering to the bars of the cage, slamming his shoulder into it. Moony yelped, and another of the four remaining chains snapped.
"Harry!" Bill shouted. Harry used the cage bars, half pulled, half staggered backwards, and was nearly an inch within Bill's reach. Moony barked, that feral light igniting back into his golden eyes. Two more Chains snapped, and Moony leapt forward, arms still restrained at his sides. "Shit!"
A dozen voices suddenly shouted something in Gobbledygook that, if Harry had been more aware, would've recognised as Goblin Magic, as bright red light shot from a dozen angles at Moony.
The spells slammed into the Werewolf's chest. Like other magical creatures, werewolves were naturally more resistant to certain spells and potions than humans. Despite this, Moony was sent flying into the back of the cage with a pained yelp.
Bill took his chance and raced into the cage. Harry's legs finally failed him, and he slumped into the waiting arms. Bill dragged Harry closer to the cage doors as Moony shook his head, and his eyes zeroed in on the stranger pulling Harry out of the cage.
Away from Moony as the boy bled rivers on the stone ground.
The floor was almost completely covered in streaks of Harry's blood. Moony's feet and face were drenched in it. Moony leapt forward again, and Bill slammed the cage door shut just in time.
The Healers raced into the vault, and Harry was immobilised and levitated as though on a stretcher. He was then raced out of the vault, eyes going in and out of focus as stalactites and oil lamps passed across the ceiling.
Moony's howls of frustration and anguish followed them, along with the sound of metal wrenching apart and shouts of warning.
A minute later, the vault door could be heard slamming shut.
~~~