Chapter 2
“Is your mother, by any chance, named Marigold?” Sirius Black asked out of nowhere. He’d been examining the bone structure of the newcomer’s face, and it looked a little too like his younger sister’s to be a mere coincidence.
Alex stiffened in his seat and turned to stare at the ex-convict, who, now that he was thinking about it, was probably on the run if he still hadn’t had a trial.
“It’s just, you look a little too similar to my sister for it to be an accident,” Sirius babbled under the weight of those suddenly frigid blue green eyes.
“My mother was your sister?” Alex asked, a bit too quietly.
“If her name was Marigold, yes.”
“Why don’t I know about your existence then?”
Sirius winced at both the question and the freezing tone it was delivered in. “My family were what you might call traditional purebloods. When a child didn’t show accidental magic, he or she was thrown out.” He winced at the stares of everyone at the table and the anger kindled in his nephew’s eyes. “At least they didn’t kill her like some old families do?” Sirius offered weakly.
“The more I learn about this society, the less I want to be part of it,” Alex said in disgust. He pushed away from the table and put his plate in the sink. A small creature stepped out from where he’d been blending into the wall next to the cabinet and started to mutter about unworthy guests who didn’t tell Kreacher they wanted their plates cleared. He stopped suddenly when his gaze encountered Alex’s boots. The little creature, who Alex guessed was named Kreature based off of his mutterings, lifted his eyes to Alex’s, who bent down slightly to make the job easier for him.
“What’s going on?” Ron asked in an attempt of a whisper, confused about the already strange encounter. Kreacher was never silent, and he never met peoples’ gazes. Hermione just elbowed him again, enthralled with the staring contest happening in front of her. Kreacher hated all of them on sight except this Alexander. Something was definitely up with the new kid.
“Worthy Wizard,” Kreacher croaked, breaking the silence.
“Noble High Brownie,” Alex replied, interested and highly concerned to find one of the incredibly rare High Brownies in this house, emaciated, dressed in rags, and covered in dirt. Woth this discovery, he was even less impressed with the occupants of this house, and by extension this new society, Sirius Black in particular as the man appeared to have some sort of unhealthy bond with the being in front of him.
“Would Worthy Wizard?” Kreacher asked before turning away in apparent disgust with himself. “No, Worthy Wizard would not. Kreacher is too damaged for Worthy Wizard to.”
Alex knelt on the dirty floor and extended his hand. “If Noble High Brownie requests, then I would be happy to.”
“What’s going on?” Ron asked again, not even trying to whisper this time. Hermione elbowed him far harder this time, wondering what the whole deal with calling a house elf a ‘Noble High Brownie’ was. She had her next research project, as soon as she composed a study schedule for the curiosity of a new schoolmate that would catch him up to the fifth year in less than a month. She ignored his indignant squawk with practiced ease.
“Worthy Wizard kids,” Kreacher said flatly, still facing the sink.
Before Alex could respond, Sirius pushed into the conversation. “What are you trying to do to my house elf, nephew?”
“Well, Uncle -” the title said with no small amount of anger “- I am going to heal this being of magic from years of neglect and the damage a lifetime of a twisted bond has left him with, although I’m not entirely sure how.”
“No,” Sirius said angrily. “He’s not injured, and he’s not a brownie, or whatever you seem to think he is. Kreacher is a house elf that has served my family for two generations. A brownie is a type of dessert. What I really want to know is how Marigold is doing.” Sirius was suddenly smiling at the thought of catching up with his sister, completely missing the anger of the kneeling boy and the girl sitting next to his godson.
“We will talk later, Noble High Brownie,” Alex promised. He turned his attention to his newest relative and stood up, straightening his posture and squaring his shoulders. “It is despicable that you would treat a fellow intelligent being like that. Why is his name literally ‘creature’? I find myself rather disgusted with you for perpetuating and being proud of what is essentially slavery of another magical being, one that literally cannot stand up to you.” Alex had leaned against the counter as he finished his mini-rant against his new apparent family member. He let the counter near him catch on fire with the heat of his anger before he walked over to the table to grab his bag. If they wanted accidental magic, he’d show them accidental magic. “And by the way,” Alex snarled from where he stood in the doorway, “my mother is dead and has been for eight years. Thanks for the support, Uncle.” The door slammed shut behind him before anyone dared to move a muscle.
“Oh dear!” Molly exclaimed, rushing over to the fire and doing her best to put it out. To her surprise, it seemed somewhat resistant to her spells, but she put it out after a minute of frantic spellwork. Unfortunately, the counter and the wall were blackened by then, and the only reason the room hadn’t filled with smoke was that Remus had vented the smoke to an unidentified place over the sea, Ginny escaping the room while she had a chance. She was curious about the new boy, of course, but she would be absolutely furious and searching for time alone after the revelations of the past few hours. She wouldn’t try to talk to him unless he talked to her first for at least a couple days.
“Dead?” Sirius whispered, sitting down hard on a seat that one of the twins shoved at him just before his knees buckled. He put his head in his hands, remembering the little girl he’d always assumed was living happily in the world somewhere. Sirius had always meant to catch up to her, but he’d never found the time between running from the dementors and whatever tasks Dumbledore assigned him. He completely missed the cause of his nephew’s anger with him.
“I told you it was slavery!” Hermione shrieked. She would be grilling the newcomer as soon as possible on what he was calling Kreacher - how had she never noticed that horrible name before? - and about the whole slavery part of the rant. It would have to wait a while, because she didn’t want to bother Alexander so soon after he admitted that his mother was dead. Maybe she’d find some chocolates and then go find him. “Hang on,” she said at a more normal volume. “Alexander won’t know where to go. He’s never been in this house before.”
“Not to worry, my dear girl. Kreacher is surely showing Alexander to his room. Would you, Harry, and Ron take his books to him? He has four years of study to catch up on in less than three weeks.”
Hermione stood up in shock at the reminder of how far behind the new kid was in his schooling. “Of course. C’mon.” She pulled Harry and Ron out of the room while simultaneously managing to grab the large stack of first year textbooks that Alexander had left on the table.
Dumbledore turned to the adults after the three teens had left. “Sirius, my boy, I’m sorry about your sister’s death. Perhaps you can ask Alexander what happened and try to reconcile with him. Remus, you, Severus, and Minerva may need to tutor the boy in your subjects. Molly, Alexander needs to order his school things, and he should pick up the Muggleborn school supply allotment from Gringotts. Perhaps you should take Hermione and Ron with you, as Alexander might appreciate some people around his age to hang out with. I think it would be too dangerous for Harry to go out after his trial. I’m afraid he would get entirely too much negative attention.”
“Of course, Albus,” Molly said, blinking. “We’ll go just after lunch, I think. It’s unfortunate that Harry can’t come, but I can set him to cleaning doxy nests out of the curtains if he really must stay here for his own safety.” She bustled out of the room to start cleaning the drawing room. Sirius wandered out after her, desolate and likely heading towards Buckbeak.
“I can try to put a tutoring schedule together with Severus and Minerva, but we’re getting close to the beginning of the school year. He might just have to make due with Hermione’s no doubt excellent tutoring until he makes it to Hogwarts and can have more personalized instruction from the teachers of each subject,” Remus warned before he too left the room. Albus stood, popped a lemon drop in his mouth, and strolled through the door. He had paperwork to avoid.
Fred and George exchanged looks. “I don’t think we were meant to hear that, Forge.”
“Yeah Gred, it feels like they forgot we were there.”
“Suddenly, I feel a lot less desire to join the Order.”
“Right back at you, brother dearest. What do you think about the new kid?”
“Well Forge, I think this year Hogwarts will be even more entertaining.”
“Yeah, who knows how this mysterious possibly-kidnapped Alexander will take to the mysterious halls of Hogwarts. Gred, he might cause even more chaos than we do!”
“Surely not, brother dearest. We’ll just have to work even harder to make sure no interesting new students upstages us.”
“Right you are, Forge. Right you are.”
Somewhere in Hogwarts, Peeves cackled and Snape, Filch, and Ms. Norris all shuddered. All four of them shook it off and continued on with their days, Peeves with a sense of glee and the other three with a sense of grim foreboding. Hogwarts drank the taste of strong magic off the headmaster with a hungry shiver. The headmaster had neglected the wards and the school so long that Hogwarts had nearly begun to crumble, but that potent magic promised a time of renewal.
Alex removed his hand from on top of the High Brownie’s head in an empty bedroom he’d decided he could stay in. He surveyed the changes with satisfaction. The being’s spindly arms and legs had thickened to strong, stout limbs. His face had gained flesh and lost the wrinkles, and his eyes no longer protruded startlingly out of his face. His ears became much more mobile, and his overall skin tone had become much more tan, as if the being had spent his life in the sun-spotted forests of Alusia instead of locked alone in a house. Most importantly, the twisted bond that had caused him to curl in on himself and had debased his magic and true self had been removed, allowing his natural magic to surge forward. He still wanted to serve those around him like all of the wonderfully kind brownies Alex had met, but he no longer had to physically punish himself for the smallest infraction or follow all orders given to him by his ‘master’. His eyes flicked open.
“Thank you,” the small being said gravely. His mind and values, those passed down in the magic of his ancestors, had been restored to him.
“What would you like to do?” Alex asked.
“This house is diseased. I will free it and what it contains from the taint. Worthy Wizard, would you be willing to assist others of my kind should I bring more to you?”
“There are more?” Alex whispered in horror. “I’d hoped that only this one family had committed this crime.”
“There are many more of us. We are the ignored slaves of the Wizarding World. I am uncertain what would happen if we were to suddenly disappear,” the being replied.
“Should you wish it, I can open a gateway to the known lands for all those who wish to return. I do not mean to cause offense or imply that your skill with magic does not reach so far,” Alex hurried to add on.
The being smiled. “I did not think you did. Thank you for your offer. Some of my kind may choose to stay, but many of us will likely return home. Those that stay may ask you to allow them home or to visit.”
“I am willing to do whatever is asked of me,” Alex replied.
“What do you wish in return?” the being replied, suddenly suspicious.
“I ask nothing for undoing what never should have been done to your people,” Alex said, open honesty and sincerity shining through his countenance and through his magic. “It would appear that my mother was connected to this family for a time, and I wish to right the wrongs done by this family upon others.”
“Once more, I must thank you. I would ask you not to tell those of this society about us.”
“I have promised such before, and I will promise again now. I will tell no other man or wizard about you. Should I be asked, do I have your permission to tell those elves, dwarves, and dragons who I consider to be trustworthy?”
“You may.”
“Then upon my staff I swear to never reveal any of the secrets of the brownies, HIgh Brownies included, to any man or wizard. I will tell only those trustworthy beings who are neither man nor wizard.” Alex glowed with a soft white light for a moment, as his staff was still in his bag.
“Worthy Wizard, your oath is accepted and your honor grown,” the being said. His ear rotated suddenly, and he looked at Alex sharply. “Men come. I will begin to cleanse this house, starting with properly laying the heads of my ancestors to rest.” He vanished just before the door opened.
Alex looked up from the bed he was sitting on to see Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Harry Potter standing awkwardly in the doorway. Hermione had a large stack of books in her arms, and Alex suddenly remembered that he’d left those on the table when he’d made his dramatic exit. They’d apparently stopped the house from burning down, then. Ron and Harry just stood awkwardly behind Hermione. Alex arched his eyebrow after a long stilted pause.
“I thought I’d bring you your books,” Hermione said in a rush. Quieter she said, “I’m sorry about your mom.”
“Hermione, right?” The girl nodded. “It was a long time ago, and I’ve made my peace with her death. Thank you for bringing my books up.”
“Of course!” she said. “I’ll write up a study plan once I have the full list of books so that you can learn as much as possible in the next couple weeks.”
“Thank you for the offer. Is it possible for us to practice magic here?” Alex asked, wondering why no one had immediately stopped his fire with their sticks. Surely it wouldn’t be that hard to respond to a threat as simple as fire with magic? It wasn’t like he’d done anything to the fire other than ignite it.
“Not for us underage wizards. The legal age in the Wizarding World is seventeen. How old are you, by the way?”
“I’m sixteen,” Alex replied, bemused. Harry and Ron were still standing in the doorway, while Hermione had moved to sit on the bed opposite his own.
“Really? I’m fifteen. I wonder why they put you in the fifth year if you’re already sixteen.”
“Is that unusual?”
“Schooling at Hogwarts is based on age at the beginning of the school year, so eleven year olds are first years, twelve year olds second years, and so on. Maybe it’s because of your OWL tests.” Sensing the incoming question, Hermione resumed talking. “OWLs are Ordinary Wizarding Levels. They are the first of the two series of tests that every wizard must pass to have a wand, the other being NEWTs or Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests. How well you do on your OWLs affects what classes you can take in your sixth and seventh years, and therefore what careers you can go into.”
“I’m guessing wands are those stick things Professor Snape and Headmaster Dumbledore were waving around yesterday?” Alex asked after he absorbed the unfortunate information about necessary standardized testing with entertaining acronyms.
“Yep!” Ron exclaimed. “Personally, I’m rather attached to my ‘stick thing’ and am trying not to break it after I broke my first wand in second year. Let me tell you, having a wand that shoots spells back at you makes you appreciate properly functioning wands a lot more.”
“So I won’t get to actually practice any of the spells until we get to school. When does school start?”
“September 1st. They really didn’t tell you anything, did they?” Hermione asked.
“They just showed up and took me. They would have taken me yesterday when they first showed up, but my stepfather threw up a big fuss over it. He wasn’t certain about this whole thing.” Alex replied.
“Why were you so hard on Sirius earlier?” Harry asked quietly, finally joining the conversation.
“The man was proud to own a slave. I was not happy about that, and I’m not one to keep that sort of thing to myself. Besides that, he abandoned my mom. He’s been an adult for a long time now, probably at least ten years. I understand that he spent a long part of that in prison, but he could have searched for her once he escaped. Completely ignoring being a slave owner and that he abandoned my mom made me angry, and I lost it,” Alex replied. In truth, he had lost control of a small portion of his temper, but not to the degree he was portraying. The only thing he had likely accomplished besides showing the people in that room that he was unlikely to be a pushover was to have made Sirius Black unlikely to pursue a familial relationship with him. As he himself didn’t want anything to do with the convict, at least until he saw someone about the traumas in his life and achieved stability and maturity in his magic and self, Alex couldn’t bring himself to regret his words.
“It would have been dangerous for him to find her,” Harry protested.
“More dangerous than being thrown out on the streets as a child with no money and no protection? Even once she established a life for herself, he could have attempted to reach out. He could have at least sent a letter if he didn’t want to endanger her with his presence.”
Harry tried to argue with that, but he couldn’t. He had to settle for a weak, “You still shouldn’t have told him like that.”
“No, I shouldn’t have,” Alex said, agreeing with that completely.
All three of them looked surprised at the easy admission.
“Why did you look like I should have recognized the name ‘Harry Potter’ earlier?” Alex asked.
“Are you certain you wouldn’t rather have a day to just enjoy magic before learning the scary side?” Hermione asked before Harry could answer.
“So far I have learned that the adults don’t seem to care about the wellbeing, physical or emotional, of the children in this society, and that the Ministry of Magic, the governing body of said society, is corrupt to the point that justice doesn’t exist. I’m pretty sure I’m already seeing a scary side,” Alex said dryly.
“Don’t say we didn’t warn you,” Ron muttered.
Harry explained the whole Boy-Who-Lived situation and gave a brief overview of his school years to illustrate the very real danger. He ended with stating that the insane Dark Lord was back but pretending not to be, presumably to slander Harry’s name and get more done in the shadows. Alex took a moment to absorb all of that frankly staggering information.
“So what I’m hearing is that school is basically a free-for-all with no help from the teachers, that mortal danger is more than likely to occur yearly at said school, and that war broke out, again related to said school, but no one knows because no one wants to believe the word of the guy who’s defeated him multiple times? And that, and don’t take this the wrong way Harry, a child is supposed to defeat the greatest Dark Lord in a century based on a mysterious power which may or may not be love?” Alex asked.
“I hadn’t really looked at it that way, mate,” Ron admitted. “When you put it like that, it almost sounds silly.”
Hermione cut in before Alex could insult all of Wizarding Britain, which he was clearly about to do. “You know what’s also silly? The unacknowledged slavery all around us, even in Hogwarts. Speaking of, how did you know that Kreacher was enslaved? What were you calling him earlier? Noble High Brownie? What does that mean? How did you recognize his species, and why don’t you call him a house elf? Would you be willing to join S.P.E.W. to fight against this ingrained societal mechanism?”
Alex just blinked at her for a long second. She had a certain glint in her eye, and as soon as Ron had seen its appearance, he’d subtly back away. Alex thought he might have the right idea there. “Let me ask you a question in return first. Why do you call them house elves? Are there other elves that aren’t in the ‘house’ class?”
It was Hermione’s turn to blink. “I'm actually not sure.” She and Harry both turned to look at Ron, the only one in the room raised in the Wizarding World.
Ron raised his eyebrows at the attention and then shrugged. “There are legends about non-house elves, but most people don’t like talking about them. It’s supposed to gain their attention or something, and I think we fought them and lost a long time ago. As far as I know, we’ve always called them house elves.”
“What is S.P.E.W.?” Alex asked, honestly curious and wondering if this was some widespread social movement to change the prejudices against house elves. He noted the sudden shifty looks from the other two boys in the room. “Also, what’s the deal with the leg in the hallway?”
“S.P.E.W. is the Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare. We are trying to petition the Ministry for better working conditions for the house elves, including the right to not be physically punished. For a while, I was trying to free all of the house elves by giving them clothes, but that didn’t work,” Hermione explained. “And the leg in the hallway came from a troll.”
“Really?” Alex asked in genuine surprise. Then, “What do you mean free them by giving them clothes? Are there more magical races that are treated poorly?”
“If their owner gives them clothes, house elves are freed.” Hermione said. She was interrupted by Mrs. Weasley calling up the stairs for them before she could answer the question about other magical races. “I guess it’s time for us to start cleaning. Kreacher let a whole bunch of dust and magic build up around the house, so we’ve been cleaning that by hand. You just worry about reading those books. We can talk about magical theory tonight at dinner!”
She left the room, pulling Harry and Ron with her, before Alex could thank her or ask more questions. “Well then,” he said softly to himself, “I’d better get to reading.” He selected his potions textbook and placed the rest on the end table in his library.
Hermione paused on her way down the stairs. “Blast! He didn’t answer any of my questions besides how old he is!” She stomped the rest of the way down the stairs. Ron exchanged a look with Harry, both realizing that he hadn’t answered a single one of their questions, while they had answered almost all of his. They silently decided to be more careful around the new guy, since he apparently had no problem directing the conversation where he wanted it to go, and raced down the stairs to catch up with Hermione.
For the most part, the textbook and a half he’d read left Alex with more questions. What effects, precisely, did sliced salamander tongue have that diced salamander tongue didn’t? What did each type of stir do? How did the metal of the cauldron affect the properties of the potion? Why were spells in some strange form of Latin that wasn’t explained or taught at all, that he could tell? Why were wands necessary for these self-titled wizards to access and direct their magic? Alex didn’t need a wand, and often didn’t use words, especially not ones he didn’t understand, but maybe that was an indicator of magical strength. He’d almost finished writing his questions down when someone, probably Mrs. Weasley, called him to lunch. Alex pocketed his list and walked down the stairs.