Introductions.
Callie’s voice is carried away in echoes as she speaks. “It’s been a lovely visit Albert, thank you so much for having us. I’ve left a pot of Shchi in your kitchen, it should last you a week but on the off chance thatit doesn’t please let me know and I’ll bring something as soon as I can.”
Albert smiles fondly at her, “Callie darling, I know you’re worried about me but I’m fine. I can still take care of myself, you know?” Callie sighs, before copying his smile, although hers is a bit more sad. “I know you can, but please remember that you’re still grieving and sometimes that can affect your health, both mentally and physically.”
Albert sighs, he’s had this conversation almost a hundred times both with his children and his niece. “Callie, have you forgotten that you are grieving as well?”
Callie scoffs, shooting him a glare. “I am not grieving, my parents made their own choices, they chose to dig their graves themselves.” Each word she spoke was dripping in hatred. “They don’t deserve to be grieved. At least not by me.”
Albert must have realized he wasn’t going to win the fight because instead of continuing to argue with her, he turned to smile at Harry who totally hasn’t been pretending he doesn’t exist for the past five minutes.
He hated it when adults fought, especially when he’s in the room.
“How old are you, young man?” Albert asked politely and Harry couldn't help but be silently grateful that the man in front of him decided to call him ‘young man’ instead of ‘boy’. He HATED when old men called him that, both as his ‘name’ or just to manipulate him. (*Ahem* Dumbelwhore *Ahem* Uncle Vernon who looks more like a whale than a human *Ahem*)
“I’m eight sir.” He responds just as politely, the man acted nothing like Dumbeldore so he was already good in his book. Albert’s smile widens, “What a coincidence! I have a granddaughter who’s only a year older than you!” He turns back to Callie, “maybe we can schedule a playdate for the two sometime?”
Callie raises her brow at the suggestion, she struggles to keep in a laugh as she speaks. “Albert..You do remember that your granddaughter lives in Russia right?”
Albert rolls his eyes, “Of course I do! But that shouldn’t stop the two from meeting!” He thinks intensely for a moment, before a smile so bright that one might think that the old man won the damn lottery. “Every year we have a family reunion on the week of Yule, luckily enough I am hosting the reunion this year! The two can meet then! Along with everyone else!”
Callie’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in shock. She clears her throat trying to play off her shock, “Well- Um, Alright, I suppose we’ll be there.”
She drapes her right arm over her torso and bows politely, honestly Harry was impressed at how clean it was, not even a small tremble. “Thank you kindly for your invite, Mr. Featherington.”
Albert copies her movement, an amused glint in his eyes being the only clue to Harry that the change in conversation wasn’t the reason he thought. The man knew exactly how to better Callie’s mood without her immediately knowing and getting even more upset. They must have known each other for a long time.
It kind of reminds him of his friendship with Hermione, he remembers doing the exact same thing when she was upset or angry. (He misses her so damn much.)
Callie turns back to Harry, a smile now resting on her face. “Have you ever used a floo by yourself before, sweetheart?” she asks.
He has, but he probably shouldn’t tell her that. Not many witches or wizards allow their kids to use a floo before they turn ten. Many were too scared that their kids would mispronounce the name of their desired location and end up somewhere dangerous. (Even when he was older than ten he still made that mistake.) “No..but I’ve used one with my Momma and Papa before!”
Bloody fucking hell it felt creepy for him to say that, but he needs to be convincing. It was either this or sleeping outside. And there is no way in hell he was sleeping outside in the cold with wild animals.
“That’s fine love, we’ll go together” She takes Harry’s right hand in her left, and uses her right to take a small handful of floo powder from Albert. “Hawthorne Manor!” She throws the powder into the fireplace in front of them and pulls Harry to follow.
Harry nearly falls to his knees when they exit the floo, the only reason he doesn’t is due to Callie’s quick reflexes. “Are you alright, sweetheart?” she asks, dusting both him and herself off from the ashes that strayed from the floo. “Yes, and thank you for catching me”
Callie stands back up, fixing her posture before taking his hand again. “Of course, my dear.” She smiles, leading him out an archway and down a fancy hallway full of portraits.
“Oh my, young man! What on earth happened to you?!” A Russian accented voice spoke, at first Harry thought it came from another person but after a quick glance around the room and not finding anyone else in the hallway he finally realized it came from a portrait, one of a sophisticated looking woman.
Her raven black hair was in a neat braided bun and she had dark skin that reminded him a bit of chocolate. She wore a dark emerald green dress that looked like it was from the Victorian Era (It most likely was) and had quite a lot of gold jewelry on. Most likely to show how incredibly wealthy she was to anyone who passed by her.
Her dark brown eyes were watching him with a sharp manner, Harry suddenly realized she was still waiting for a response and clearly did not feel like asking again.
He couldn’t help but feel relieved when another voice interrupted before he could stutter out an answer, “Hush nowMother! The poor boy most likely just went through a traumatic event! Do not scare him more by interrogating him!”
Harry turns to face the new voice, once again it was a portrait that spoke. It was a young woman who looked similar in both looks and sophistication to the previous woman.
She too had dark skin, brown eyes and raven black hair. But instead of wearing a green dress, she was wearing a black and white dress and her curly hair was in two large braids.
She was wearing the same gold jewelry as the first woman, which Harry assumed it was because she inherited from her. It would make sense due to them being mother and daughter.
Callie must have felt it was a good time to step in, although he does wish she would have stepped in sooner instead of watching amusingly as the two women bickered back and forth.
“Lady Lucinda, Lady Viktoria, please do not argue in front of guests, it is quite impolite.” Callie smiles sweetly as the portraits quieten down, “Now, may I introduce you both to Harrison Evans. He will be staying with us for an unknown amount of time.”
The two portraits shared an amused look, for what? Harry has absolutely no clue. “Harry, these two lovely women are Lady Lucinda Hawthorne, and her daughter, Lady Viktoria Remington.”
Harry hesitated; he wasn't entirely sure if it was required to bow when being introduced to portraits or not but to be safe he did so anyway. It doesn’t hurt to be on the good sides of portraits (They hear and know everything, which can be quite useful when he needs blackmail)
“Oh! What a polite young man!” Lady Viktoria giggled, thankfully it seemed easy to get her to adore you. Especially when you’re a cute eight year old.
Lady Lucinda on the other hand, did not giggle like her daughter, instead she slowly bowed her head. A gesture that high noble ladies did when reciprocating another’s bow. A sign of respect. Even though their reactions were different, Harry could tell immediately that they both equally adored him, they just showed their admiration in different ways.
Callie watched him quietly, amused, before offering him her hand. “Thank you ladies for the wonderful conversation, but I am afraid we must depart, it is getting late and we still have a few things to do before Harry must sleep”
\
Lady Viktoria pouted and seemed tempted to argue but stayed silent once she caught sight of her mother’s stern glare. Lady Lucinda seemed to have no temptations to argue, “Very well then, sleep well Harrison, Пусть Моргана благословит ваши мечты.”
Lady Viktoria nods at her mother’s words, repeating them more enthusiastically. “Пусть Моргана благословит ваши мечты!”
Harry doesn’t respond as he’s led away from the two women, he doesn’t know Russian so it would be incredibly stupid to respond to something he doesn’t understand. He just got on their good sides, he doesn’t want to risk ruining that immediately.
Callie leads him to what he assumes is the living room, and it was fucking gorgeous. There was a fireplace in the middle of the back wall, a window seat that had a small bookshelf inside of it. In front of the fireplace was a large brown leather couch that was covered with a green blanket that was covered in embroidery.
Next to the window seat was a bird stand where a large beautiful falcon was resting, its wings spread out at the sight of Callie and it let out a chitter as it flew to rest on her shoulder, nudging their head against hers.
“Harry meet Boris, my familiar.” Harry smiled at the falcon, allowing him to smell his hand. “Hello Boris, it’s lovely to meet you, I’m Harrison or Harry for short”
Callie leans close to Boris, whispering something that Harry can’t quite hear to him. Boris chitters before flying out of the room and down the hall. “I still have one more person to introduce you to Harry, do you know what a house elf is?”
Of course he does. In his past life he knew many different house elfs, he knew Dobby, Kreacher, and the ones that worked at Hogwarts. (He feels horrible that he never learned any of their names.)
Harry nods his head, there was no point in lying. Most magical kids knew of house elves before they could even walk, even if their family didn’t have any.
Callie smiles and puts a hand on his shoulder. (How can someone smile so damn much, holy shit.)
“Мипси!” Callie yells out a Russian word, or maybe it’s a name? He has no fucking idea.
A small house elf appears in front of them with a pop and Harry can’t help but stare in awe at how…well dressed they are.
Every time he’s ever met a house elf in the past they were always dressed in rags, but this house elf was dressed….not in rags. The house elf standing in front of him was wearing a cute baby pink dress that has short ruffle sleeves, as well as white tights and baby pink shoes that are buckled at the top with a leather strap.
And..oh..Oh! The cherry on top was the cute white bow headband that wrapped around their head. Oh bloody hell they’re adorable.
The house elf’s eyes widened at the sight of Callie, sparking with admiration while a huge smile spread on their face, “Lady Callie you have returned!” She claps happily. Harry has to admit, he finds it a bit amusing that he can pinpoint the exact moment she finally notices him because somehow her smile grows even wider. (How is that even possible!?)
“Lady Callie has brought a guest!! Oh Lady Callie is so kind to Mipsy!” The house elf, or Mispy, squealed with joy. Which is understandable, house elves thrive and sometimes even survive off of serving wizards and witches, and while one witch is enough for a house elf to live comfortably it’s probably still a bit underwhelming. So having guests visit is probably a big deal for her, it means more people to serve.
“Hello, Mipsy! I’m Harrison but you can call me Harry as a nickname!” He knows he’s supposed to keep playing the shy orphan act but he couldn't help but drop it once Mipsy arrived. (He can’t help it! He’s always had a soft spot for house elves, they’re just so cute and sweet!)
Callie doesn’t seem to notice the change in personality, or if she does she doesn’t say anything, instead she laughs at Mipsy’s excitement.
“Mipsy sweetheart, Harry here will be staying with us for a while, would you be a dear and set up a guest room for him?” She asks sweetly, honestly Harry’s surprised that Mipsy didn’t get whiplash from how fast she nodded her head before disappearing.
Callie turns to him apologetically, “I’m so sorry about her, she’s just very excited to have a guest to take care of, we haven’t had one in awhile.” Harry nods, “It’s fine, she seems very sweet, I like her outfit as well, it's adorable!”
She laughs at his comment, “Well, please make sure to tell Mipsy that! She picked it out herself, she is quite proud of her fashion skills, you know?”
He’s never heard of a house elf who was allowed to pick out clothes and dress themselves, but hey, he’s also never heard of someone meeting Death and getting sent back 50 years to live a second life, but here we fucking are!
Harry nearly jumps in surprise when Mipsy suddenly speaks from behind him, “Mipsy has finished the room! Would Lady Callie and Lord Harrison like Mipsy to take them there??” Even though the question was asked politely with a smile, Harry felt like it was less of a question and more of a demand.
“Yes please Mipsy” Callie says as she takes one of Mipsy’s offered hands, Harry hesitantly takes the other.
A second later they’re in an elegantly decorated room. The main color he could see was emerald green while the accent color from what he could tell was black. Harry couldn’t help but stare in awe, the room was huge, as in bigger than Dudley’s second room.
From where he was standing he could see two doors, one slightly open to the point where he could see a bathtub. Holy fuck, does he get his own bathroom!?
Mipsy lets go of both their hands, turning to face Harry. She fidgeted with her fingers as she spoke up, “Does Lord Harrison like the room?” It took Harry a second to realize that Mipsy was trying to impress him! He didn't think she could get more adorable!
“I love it” He says sincerely, “I also love your outfit, you have great fashion taste” Mipsy squealed happily at the compliment, “Thank you Lord Harrison! Mipsy is very thankful for your compliments!” and with that she disappeared. To Where? Harry had no damn clue.
“I apologize that you don’t have any other clothes to sleep in, I would offer you one of my sleep garnets but I doubt you’ll enjoy sleeping in a gown.” She says with a pity smile, “But if you like, me and Mipsy can try to find a spare bathrobe your size? You can take a nice warm bath and then sleep in the comfy robe?”
Harry agrees without hesitation, the clothes he was in currently were sweaty from the heat of the fires, as well as covered in blood and dirt. He’s surprised that Callie even let him be seen with her, he looks like absolute shit. But then again he just went through a ‘traumatic event’ so it makes sense.
Callie exits the room gracefully, calling for Mipsy once the door closes with a click. Now that he’s alone he takes the chance to study the room. The walls were covered in a dark green wallpaper with a fancy flower design, to his left is a bookshelf made with what looks like spruce wood. He wasn’t surprised to find that the shelf was filled with books about the Dark Arts.
When he and Callie first made contact he could practically feel the dark aura radiating off her, she definitely had an affinity for the dark arts.
In his past life this most likely would have disgusted him, he would have felt like throwing up after knowing he was in a house with a dark witch that could use dark magic on him at any second. But he didn’t feel that now, instead he felt nothing.
He learned too late in his life that dark magic itself wasn’t evil, it was the way the magic user used it that made the actions evil. The exact same words could be said for light magic or neutral magic.
Magic is not evil, people are.
That’s what Draco Malfoy told him one day in the boys bathroom, when Harry had caught him crying. He winces every time his brain forces him to remember what he said to Draco that day, how he treated him.
He regrets it and a part of him wishes he could apologize, while the other tries to remind him how Draco treated him back. That Draco was a spoiled racist asshole who always complained to his father when something didn’t go his way.
But deep down Harry knew he wasn’t any better, yeah he wasn’t evil, but Draco wasn’t either, they were kids for fucks sake. It hurt to admit that sometimes he forgot that.
Something wet fell from his face, and it took him a second to realize he was crying. Bloody hell he was fucking crying.
Harry wipes his face, grimacing at the feeling of dirt being smudged across his face. Ew, he really does need that bath.
“Are you quite alright Harry?” He gasps in surprise as he swerves to face Callie. He made sure to make a mental note about her light footsteps, he didn’t even hear her come in!
“Yeah, I’m..fine. I just really want to get all this gross dirt off.” He replies with a strained smile, he knows he should try to keep up with his act a little better but he’s bloody exhausted.
Callie gives him one of her sweet smiles, somehow not bothered by his new personality. “Well luckily I’ve found a robe your size” She pauses, looking him up and down. “Well, it might be a little big but that just makes it comfier!”
Harry glances at the black silk robe that resided in her hand, trying to calculate if ‘a little big’ meant one size bigger or three, with Callie it could mean either. “Mipsy is drawing you a bath right now, I made sure to tell her to add extra bubbles so all that dirt comes right off.”
It was only now that Harry finally noticed the sound of running water, how did he not notice before? Fuck, he really needs to get a hold on his emotions.
“Are you sure you're okay sweetheart? Your eyes are red and puffy.” Callie asks, watching him carefully.
Oh.
Well now the atmosphere felt awkward.
Callie didn’t believe him when he lied, or at least not completely. Honestly Harry should have known, she seems smart and intelligent so of course she could put together context clues. Harry was the idiot here.
Before Harry could answer, Mipsy emerged from the bathroom. “The bath is ready Lord Harrison! Mipsy made sure to add many bubbles” She says happily with a wink as she leads him into the new room.
Harry stared in awe at the bathroom and more importantly the huge bathtub, he knows he really shouldn’t be surprised that a wealthy noble has a big bathtub but the size and design is still impressive.
“Mipsy shall leave Lord Harrison to bathe now! But shall return if called!” Harry smiles, thanking her politely before she disappears. He gags as he begins to peel off the grimy clothes before slowly lowering himself into the warm, almost hot water. He sighs in content and allows his body to relax.
For the first time today Harry let down his guard.
He stretches his neck carefully, huffing in satisfaction at the cracks that follow. He rubs some of the bubbles into his skin and smiles, he finally feels clean.
He picks up a bottle that was placed on the edge of the tub, reading the label that says in bold letters ‘Truman’s Swift Shampoo’ before prying the lid open and lathering it onto his head. He makes sure to scrub his body with soap from head to toe, attempting to get all the sweat, dirt, blood, and ashes off of him.
By the time he finally emerges from the bathtub, there is not a speck in sight on him.
(Other than his scars of course)
He grabs the white fluffy towel that Mipsy left him, drying his hair first before anything else. He pauses to watch himself in the mirror, noting everything that looks off about him. Even if he doesn’t miss his past life or his old self, he does miss his old body.
He forces himself to look away, opting to put on the large fluffy robe instead. Callie was correct that it was a bit too big, luckily only two sizes bigger. He tried not to focus on the fact that he was wearing no underwear, grateful that the robe fully covered his bottom, reaching down to his knees.
He enters the bedroom, sighing in relief when Callie was nowhere to be seen. He doesn’t hate her or anything, he’s just too tired to keep up the ‘I’m a eight year old kid’ act right now.
He flops onto the comically large bed, surprised but also not surprised at the fluffiness of the mattress. He takes a deep breath that gets slightly muffled due to his face squished against the bed.
He has so many questions but no answers.
He wanted to ask why?
Why is Callie so bloody nice?
Why does she treat her house elf so fucking well?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
HE JUST WANTS FUCKING ANSWERS. HE’S GOTTEN NONE SINCE HE READ DEATH’S CONFUSING ASS LETTER, IS THAT SO MUCH TO FUCKING ASK FOR? JUST ONE GOD DAMN ANSWER!?
He lets out a strangled groan in frustration, hitting the bed over and over to let out his emotions.
He’s never been good at regulating his emotions, he was never taught to. When he tried to teach himself, he struggled a lot. When he complained about it to Ron and Hermione, Hermione always told him that it sounds like he has Anger Issues and most likely would need to see a therapist or at the very least ask an adult for help.
He never did.
Which he regrets now, almost crying in frustration. There’s so many moments where he wished he listened to Hermione, but didn’t because of pride.
Pride.
Huh.
He didn’t feel that often anymore, there was nothing to be prideful about.
He’s lost everything.
He lost the war.
He lost his parents
He lost his family.
He lost his friends.
He lost himself.
Why couldn’t he have been a normal child?
Why couldn’t he live a normal childhood?
With loving parents.
Fun but safe school years.
Why couldn’t he be a living child not a surviving one.
Voldemort is why.
Or…
Maybe Dumbledore is why.
He never really thought about it.
He didn’t ever really need to.
He was always told that Dumbledore was the hero.
The good side.
The protector of thousands.
But if that was true, then why didn’t he protect Harry?
He was a child.
He didn’t deserve anything that happened to him.
Fuck.
He really needs to stop thinking before he starts crying again. If he does he might not be able to stop.
Harry rolls over to lay on his back, shuffling to pull the covers over him.
He stares at the ceiling. Sleep, he thinks.
Sleep.
Finally, after many minutes, does sleep come.
It comes with a blanket of its own, one of darkness.
Harry allows it to wrap around him, swaddling him like a newborn baby being presented to its mother.
“Goodnight Hermione, Goodnight Ron” He whispers into the blanket of darkness, drifting off to a world of sleep, filled with people he loves with every ounce of his heart. Thankful to see them again after so long.
Goodnight Harry. Sweet Dreams.