Chapter 4
“How did you get money from Gringotts?” Ron asked.
“I asked politely,” Alex said. He didn’t like lying to them, but they seemed smart enough that anything close to the truth would be hazardous.
“Goblins don’t do anything because someone was polite to them. Besides, what about the blood on the floor?” Hermione asked.
“How do you know that goblins don’t do what they’re asked when asked nicely? Have you tried it?” Alex responded.
“Well no, but what about the blood on the floor?” Hermione huffed.
“You know, I didn’t expect you to treat them like any other wizard with the way you want to change how house elves are treated. And I saw no blood on the floor in Gringotts,” Alex stated, throwing out his interest and slight disgust at her apparent double standard. He’d very carefully avoided looking at the place where he’d been taken on the way out so that if there was blood, he could answer truthfully that he hadn’t seen any blood.
Hermione sputtered for a bit, taken aback at the pointed comment.
“Here we are, children,” Molly announced, apparently not noticing any of the tension behind her. She pushed the door open and held it for the three of them to pass through. “Now, where is - ah! here she is.” One of the seamstresses was hustling toward the door at the sound of its jingle.
“Molly! What can I do for you?” the graying woman asked.
“This young man here -” Molly gestured to Alex “- needs to be fitted for robes.”
“House?” she asked.
“He doesn’t know yet.”
“Is he being fitted for Hogwarts robes, then?” the shop owner asked.
“Yes, he’s transferring in.”
“I’ll do all of the regular charms on the robes that will match the color of his house, then. Up on the stool please, dearie.”
Alex did as the woman directed, watching with interest as a magical tape measure flew around him. It made him think of Mr. Blackburn’s shop and his weapon fitting there, but here the tape measure was working independently of the woman. He also wasn’t doing any sort of balancing or movement beyond lifting his arms when directed to. Alex was careful to hold still when told to, because those pins looked awfully sharp. The seamstress, who was possibly Madame Malkin herself, finished and stepped back.
“I’ll have them done in two hours,” she said, shooing them back out of her shop.
“Do I pay then or now?” Alex asked.
“You’ll pay when you get the robes, dearie,” the shopkeeper replied, gaze softening at the honest question that indicated she would not be stood up on payment for the work. Her gaze softened further when she saw the boy go to protest before stopping himself out of respect for how she ran her shop.
“Thank you! I’ll see you in two hours,” he said before bowing slightly to her and hurrying out of the shop to catch up with a rushing Molly who had once more almost lost him.
After the shop door closed behind the boy, Madame Malkin sighed to herself. “What a nice boy,” she said. It was a shame that he likely wouldn’t live to see the end of the war, based on the company of the Weasley matriarch and two of Harry Potter’s best friends, all of whom were deeply in the pocket of Albus Dumbledore. Anyone with that absurd of a fashion sense was not to be trusted, no matter what public opinion might be about him.
The rest of the shopping went well. Alex had grabbed all of the books that caught his eye, including several different histories of the Wizarding World and all of the different books about creatures he could find. He did not want to be caught unawares for a third time by a creature that might recognize him, and Alex also wanted to know what the attitude towards creatures by the general populace was. If they explained anything about how the creatures were thought to have gotten there, that was all the better. The pouch worked precisely as the goblins had said it would, though he got a few strange looks for this apparent newcomer to their world having a pouch that only the richest purebloods could afford to maintain.
The apothecary was fascinating. He’d never seen a more purposefully sinister widely-used shop. It also appeared that the majority of ingredients for sale were pickled, powdered, or otherwise stored in a way that meant they were clearly not fresh. Alex was sure that would have some interesting effects on the potions created, and he couldn’t wait to learn more about the science behind it, being talented with the potions he’d previously created in the known lands. The next stop was the pet shop. Alex didn’t buy anything there, as he saw no need to once the existence of the school owlery was made clear to him. Really, how did the wizards expect to be subtle with owls flying around in broad daylight with letters attached to their legs? Honestly, there had to be some better method of communication than that even without geebs.
Alex was still musing about the un-updated stance of the Wizarding World and the fact that no one had told him how he was supposed to contact Mr. Roberts, which seemed a bit like purposeful separation to him, when they arrived in front of a store called ‘Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC’. He’d been dreading trying to choose a wand ever since the whole situation was explained to him. Alex didn’t need a wand to perform small magic like the type described in the spellbook he’d just been reading, and he had a staff for the bigger pieces of magic. He hoped that the spellwork would become more complex as he progressed through the years, but he wasn’t sure that it would. He also wanted to know why wizards thought they needed a stick to perform magic. Maybe they were more like the pretenders he’d heard of in the known lands.
Alex stepped into the shop alone at the urging of Molly. Part of him was glad that they wouldn’t be able to hear whatever this Ollivander had to say, but they were watching with curiosity through the shop window. Alex looked around the shop in curiosity, taking in the carefully placed dust and cobwebs. He could sense the strong stasis magic in the boxes, so the dust must be for effect. He slowly turned in a circle to get the full effect, not wanting to disregard the effort that had gone into the appearance of the place.
A throat cleared behind him, and Alex grabbed his true silver dagger from his bag, whirling around to hold it at the throat of the person behind him. Startled silver eyes greeted him. The two stood frozen for a moment before Alex slipped his knife back into his bag. These people really needed to stop sneaking up on someone who had absolutely no experience with this new place and did not trust any of the new people he’d met, besides possibly Madame Malkin. Outside, Ron looked at Alex with some distrust. That had definitely been a knife he’d glimpsed coming out of that bag. Maybe that was why Alexander had declined buying a trunk. He obviously had trust issues to have pulled a knife on old Ollivander like that.
“If you would just stand there, I’ll take your measurements now,” the old man with the large silver eyes requested. The suppressed shake in his voice was apparent in the wobbly flight of the tape measure coming at Alex.
“Who are you?” Alex asked mistrustfully.
“I’m Ollivander, owner and maker of the wands in this shop for the past fifty years. I apologize for startling you. I merely wanted to get a better look at that fascinating magic of yours.”
Alex stared at him while the tape measure took the measurement between his nostrils.
Ollivander chuckled nervously. “You see, I’m not actually certain that any of my wands here will fit you. Do you, by any chance, have something that you already use to perform magic?”
Alex stiffened further.
“I see. I’m afraid I don’t have a wand for you, and no other wandmaker will either. Whatever you’re using is bound tightly to you and would probably destroy any wand that attempted to bind itself to you.” Ollivander called the tape measure back to himself and pushed Alex out of the shop. That boy had the most powerful magic he’d seen in all his days, and he would shake up their world somehow, of that Ollivander was certain. For his own sake, Ollivander sincerely hoped he didn’t run into the boy in a bad mood, if he’d almost been killed in a non-magical way for startling the child. Perhaps it would be best if he and those he cared for avoided the boy altogether. He walked into the backroom of the shop and began writing a letter of warning for his wife with intentions of duplicating it for his few friends, trusting the ward on the front door of the shop to alert him to any potential customer entering his shop.
Alex stepped outside to two very curious and one judging look.
“What did Ollidvander say to you, dear?” Molly asked.
Alex could have cursed. The lack of a wand and being immediately chased out of the shop were not going to help him blend in. He’d just have to do his best to explain it away. “My father left me his bag, and there was one of the stick things inside of it, not that I knew what it was then. I guess it bonded to me?” He really hoped they’d accept the explanation, but the suspicion from the two younger companions pointed to them not.
“If you say so, dear.” Molly said doubtfully. “Now, we’ve got to get back to Madame Malkins and then back to the house for dinner.”
They arrived back at the house without a hitch. Alex collected his purchases from Ron, Hermione, and Molly, all of whom had been carrying something for him, and headed up to his room. He’d put them in his bag in the privacy of his room, as he didn’t yet know how the expansion bags that the wizards had worked, if they had that type of thing at all. For the time being, all of his purchases went by the chair in his own personal library to be sorted through later that night. He’d just placed the last package carefully in his bag when the call to dinner came floating up the stairs. Literally.
As much fun as having a shower of confetti appear out of nowhere on the stairs and float aggressively towards you while spelling ‘Dinner’ before attempting to eat you, Alex would have been happy with just a normal call to dinner. Still, he grabbed his bag, double checked to make sure everything had made it into his bag, and headed down the stairs. The trio who would apparently be in his same grade gave him a very suspicious look, and Alex sighed internally. Not answering any questions was a reasonable cause for concern, but none of the adults seemed too worried. He scoffed at himself a moment later. There wasn’t an adult among the bunch he’d met yet that he would trust. He should be glad that the trio was so on edge and ready to protect themselves, even if it made his own life harder.
Hermione and Ron had sought Harry out as soon as they’d returned from Diagon Alley. He was understandably angry and jealous, not to mention slightly concerned over how long it had taken them to do basic school shopping, but he’d quieted down to listen to what they had to say after enough of a glare from Hermione. Ginny had sulked out of the room at that point, not that the three had noticed her hurt or frustration. She knew when she wasn’t wanted. Harry had agreed that the mysterious blood was problematic. He’d been skeptical of Ron’s knife story but was far more willing to believe him than Hermione had been. In the end, the three resolved to watch him closely, starting with some under-the-cloak espionage after dinner. There was something off about the newcomer, and they needed to know what it was for their own safety.
“Why do you carry that bag with you everywhere?” Ron asked point blank. He was both curious and determined to start learning as much as he could about Alexander.
“You could leave it upstairs,” Hermione added. “It’ll still be there after dinner.”
The look that Alex shot them was filled with mistrust. They couldn’t move his bag or get inside of it, to the best of his knowledge, but he didn’t trust them not to try extreme measures if their first attempt failed. He himself had transfigured a bag into stone and then the wind once, so he wouldn’t be leaving his bag, which contained a dragon’s hoard of treasure and knowledge, vulnerable to these people. “I’d rather have it with me.”
“C’mon, just answer the question,” Ron pressed.
Alex noted that, yet again, the adults were determined to do absolutely nothing. In fact, they seemed curious to see how this would play out, possibly deeming an interrogation by fellow teenagers less intimidating than an interrogation by adults. Either way, Alex was still being interrogated. He didn’t like it and didn’t trust any of the people sitting around the table. He stood up. “As much fun as it could be to sit here and be interrogated, I’d rather not.”
“But your dinner!” Molly said, finally getting involved.
“I’ll be fine,” Alex said flatly. “I don’t know anything about you people. The only person I know anything about is the famous mass murderer sitting at the table, who you say isn’t guilty but have given me no evidence either way, and who also abandoned my mother because it was easier. I’ve heard some tall tales about Harry Potter and learned a lot about Quidditch. You people took me with no explanation and have yet to actually tell me how anything around here works. I don’t know you or trust you, and I don’t want to answer your questions. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to find a way to contact my guardian without him freaking out further, as I disappeared in front of his eyes and have no real idea how to contact him. I also need to read the books I bought today, because I apparently don’t have a choice about my presence here.”
The kitchen was silent for a long time after the door shut behind him. Sirius whistled lowly, breaking the silence. The silence continued through the rest of dinner. Hermione, Harry, and Ron went to her and Ginny’s shared room to talk after. Ginny, seeing where they were heading, scoffed and turned back around. Clearly, she’d be getting no time to herself this evening and was not deemed important enough to be part of these little conversations. Fred and George pulled her into a conversation when she walked back into the kitchen. Ginny relaxed, feeling a natural smile creep onto her face at her two supportive brothers.
“I hadn’t thought about it from his perspective,” Hermione said thoughtfully from behind a very firmly closed door. “It sounds like Professor Dumbledore and Snape didn’t tell him anything at all about our world other than he had to come and learn at Hogwarts, despite the fact that he sounded like he liked his life before. We might have to change tactics.”
“We still need more information. I say we spy on him tonight like we planned,” Harry said, ignoring the fact that the people who came to introduce you to the magical world were supposed to tell you things. Hagrid hadn’t, and Harry had turned out fine.
“I agree,” Ron said.
Hermione looked between them. “I do think we need more information, so I will help you spy on him tonight. If he doesn’t do anything strange, we’ll drop the topic and attribute it to nerves and anger.”
Harry nodded, putting on a show of agreeing even though he didn’t. “How are we going to get in his room though?”
“He has to go to the bathroom sometime. The silencing spells are still active on the cloak, right?” Ron said.
“Probably,” Harry replied. The three of them huddled beneath the cloak and stood across from Alexander’s room for a while, waiting for him to open the door.
Alex sealed the letter he was sending to Mr. Roberts and tossed it through a small portal at his surprised face. He couldn’t keep it open for long, because claiming accidental magic sustained over long periods of time seemed a bit suspicious and anyone could walk in on him, but Mr. Roberts needed to hear from him. Alex really did feel bad for vanishing without a word or update. He’d told Mr. Roberts that they’d talk after seeing if his enchanted paper glowed blue, and to use geebs as little as possible in the meantime as a precautionary measure. The Wizarding World would not be using owls if geebs were available. The method of teleportation he’d seen so far was loud and appeared to only be able to be done with full people too. Honestly, these people seemed incapable of flexibility in their minds, which was directly reflected in how they wielded their magic.
Alex stretched out on the bed that was apparently his for the next two weeks and finished his second book of the day before nature called. He had a bathroom in his bag, but he wanted to seem as normal as possible. Leaving the room to go to the bathroom was a normal, natural thing to do that should not create suspicion. Alex walked back into his room after a short journey to find the bathroom, because no one had told him where to find it, and closed the door firmly behind him. He flopped back on the bed, placing the finished book in his hand on top of the potions book he’d read with mentally saying his password and specifying the destination, and switching it for the next one on top of the stack of to-read books. He wrote the title of this newest book, A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration, under the last of his notes and questions from the last book and underlined it twice.
Alex could tell after the first two chapters that this subject would also be easy for him. All of them would be, based off of what he’d seen so far, but some of the first magic he’d tried under Whalen’s guidance had been changing one thing into another. It had come to him easily, maybe because his own nature was subject to change based on what he wanted. The rock that he had first successfully turned into gold was sitting on his desk in his library, a handy paperweight and reminder of how far he’d come with constant effort. Alex put the book and his list of notes back into his bag, being just as careful as he had been the entire time he’d known these people not to say the password to his bag out loud.
Something was definitely up with the corner of the room, the magic of these ‘wizards’ flickering in and out before nothing took its place. That hadn’t been there before, and Alex was determined to act as normally as possible for the rest of the night since that seemed like a shady way of spying on him or something. Alex didn’t know what they could or could not do. It seemed unlikely that they could hide from both his magic and enhanced senses, but nothing was impossible. The need for information might have been great enough to impose on his privacy after his blatant refusal to answer the questions at dinner.
Unfortunately for Alex, his luck was still out, a rare and unpleasant experience.
The being once called Kreacher popped into the room as soon as Alex’d very carefully examined the corner of the room with his peripheral vision and decided to go to bed despite the relatively early hour. He pulled his dream journal out of his bag and set it on the nightstand. Alex jumped when he saw the High Brownie in front of him and resisted the urge to pull out his dagger. His posture relaxed for just a moment before he caught sight of the thing in the being’s hands. It was the little aura Alex’d seen when entering the house, but it screamed with evil intent up close.
“I would request your help cleansing this artifact from its taint. Once you do, the magic keeping the house in this state of squalor will fade,” the being said.
“Of course,” Alex said. “Could you float it a bit closer to me so that I can see it without needing to touch it?”
Harry rolled his eyes under the cloak as Kreacher did as he was told. For all his talk about equal rights, Alexander was no better than the rest of them. He completely missed the respect in the tone, posture, and means of address, as well as the fact that Alexander hadn’t summoned Kreacher, instead freely offering the help asked for.
Alex focused on it for a while, letting the aura of power fade after a few seconds like he usually did. His face was almost touching the ornate locket when he realized just what sort of abomination this thing had to be. Alex jumped back, staggering backwards and falling onto the bed. “Impossible,” he whispered, face gray. “This should be impossible. The evils committed to create a thing like this…”
“What is it?” the brownie asked, concern and a small amount of fear marring his peaceful expression.
“It looks like a twisted piece of a soul,” Alex whispered in horror. “I’ve seen enough souls in my duties as a Watcher to know what one looks like, but I’ve never seen anything as mangled as this. I don’t even want to think about how it was split off from the main piece. In addition, it looks unfortunately similar to whatever’s inhabiting Harry Potter’s scar. I don’t think that could be a coincidence.”
“What can we do about it?” the brownie asked, focusing intently enough on Alex that he missed the small creak of old wood being stepped on when the trio of spies in the room took a collective step back. Things had been weird enough already with the respect and the fact that Kreacher was asking for help from a sixteen-year-old instead of from an adult, but this really tipped it over the edge. The thought that something was living in Harry’s scar horrified all three of the eavesdroppers.
“This thing is angry enough and twisted enough to attack me, should I try to send it over the wall peacefully. I need to force it over and smooth it out as much as possible, so that it can connect with and pacify any parts of its soul that are already on the other side of the wall.”
“And the child?” the being asked, deeply concerned about the fate of the child who had been inflicted with something as terrible as a splinter of soul for so long.
“Based on the sorry state of this thing and the one in the scar, there are at least two other soul shards out there besides the main one. We’ll need to find and destroy any of those that haven’t been destroyed yet before we can send the last little bit over the wall. If I can assemble and pacify the rest of the soul shards before trying to add his, it shouldn’t harm him at all. Once the rest of the soul is assembled, the main piece of soul, which is probably ridiculously small at this point, would be forced to join with the rest. I might have to fight it to make sure the anger is leeched out so that that soul and the others I protect can live peacefully on the other side. Of course, this all sounds great in theory. I suspect it will be much harder to implement,” Alex said ruefully. He shook himself after a moment, clapping his hands. “Right! I’m going to try to burn the soul out of this thing. Will you make sure the house doesn’t burn down, Noble High Brownie?”
“Of course, Worthy Wizard,” came the confident reply.
“If regular and magical fire don’t work, I will try dragon fire,” Alex warned.
“Don’t worry about that either,” the being chuckled. “I’ve lived here for long enough that my magic is part of this place. Whether or not I was free during that time.” A shimmering barrier around the locket with just enough of a gap for Alex to perform his magic sprang into existence a moment later.
“I’ll start with the normal fire, then,” Alex said. He would not offend the brownie by insinuating that Alex knew more than the brownie did about how their special type of magic worked. Besides, Alex didn’t think it would be too much of a shame if this house did burn down, as long as the people inside of it got out. The place reeked of black magic performed with intent to harm, pain, anger, and malice.
“Inferno!” Alex commanded the chain. The locket didn’t so much as heat up, no flames appearing anywhere.
Hermione, Ron, and Harry exchanged glances. There was no way this guy was going to manage magic without a gesture and with some random word describing a large fire.
“Apparently not,” Alex muttered. “If it fights back, this might get messy. Should it overtake me, kill me. I’d rather be dead than a puppet.”
“I highly doubt that it could overtake you, Worthy Wizard, but I will lay your body to rest if this thing controls you.”
Alex nodded in recognition and closed his eyes for a moment. Harry exchanged a weirded out glance with the other two. People didn’t just talk about their own deaths so casually. Their focus shifted back to the stranger when he moved his hand in a small circle. Nothing happened for a long moment, and Harry was tempted to scoff. His attempt at a disparaging remark was cut short when a column of fire appeared out of nowhere and encircled the locket. Their eyes collectively widened at the magical spectacle. Wandless, wordless magic was supposed to be impossible for anything but the accidental magic children displayed. Their eyes widened even further when a shape appeared in the flames.
“Did you really think I would forgive you?” Lupo sneered. The children under the cloak didn’t know who the man was, but the rapid paling of Alexander’s face showed that he did. “You lied to me when I was honest with you.”
“You’re not real,” Alex whispered, getting some of the blood in his face back. He pulled his dragon magic around his heart and strengthened his mental barriers, blocking the thing from using his own fears against him. How dare it take Lupo’s form and try to control him! The anger rising in Alex’s throat burst out in a white-hot tongue of flames enveloping the locket. The thing that had taken Lupo’s shape squealed and writhed in the flames, the locket slowly beginning to heat up.
Just before he would need to breathe and stop the flames, Alex touched his fingers to his throat. When he took his hand away, two gill-like slits that would provide him with the necessary oxygen and fuel for the fire. As flames continued to be poured into the shielded area, the brownie had to keep upping the level of the shields. Dragon fire, especially from a true wizard and a silver dragon to boot, was nothing to be scoffed at. The being’d given up on trying to contain all of the heat as well, leaving the trio huddled in the corner getting uncomfortably warmer by the second. The locket melted fully, dripping down to the bottom of the shield, taking with it the emeralds it had contained but leaving the shard and the darkness stuck in the flames.
Alex, noting that the locket’s material had been purified of the black magic and could be re-used if he wanted to forge something new, reached back into his bag without stopping the flames. He pulled out Moon Slayer, glad not to need to say his password and stop the fire for even a second, and stabbed his sword into the middle of the fire. The pierced wraith screamed but could put up no more resistance than it already had, trapped by the flames and being eaten away by the power of the sword, just as the wraiths Alex had encountered early in his first adventure. The evil burned away slowly, leaving a pathetic little scrap of soul fluttering in place.
Alex felt the moment that the thing crossed the wall and stopped the flames with relief. He withdrew the scabbard for Moon Slayer from his bag, sheathed his sword, and placed it back into his bag. He put the bag over the chair and sat down on the bed to check the wall and the shadowlands, relieved to note that the soul was not wreaking havoc on the lands he protected. He’d felt the initial ripple and connection the soul shard had made when it crossed the wall, but everything had returned to its peaceful state after those two moments. The brownie was giving him a bit of a look, and Alex sheepishly realized that he hadn’t removed the gills and did so.
“Thank you for your help. Once I cleanse this house, I will search for the rest of the shards and bring them to you, Worthy Wizard, so that you might stop their terrible influence from staining any more places.”
“Thank you, Noble High Brownie. Should you find any other objects you wish cleansed or any particularly difficult task accomplished, or even just wish to talk, I am in your service,” Alex responded.
“I would remind you of your promise to not reveal anything about me or my kind to man or wizard.”
“I will not break my word,” Alex vowed.
The being nodded and vanished from existence. Alex stretched out on the bed and decided that a catnap would benefit him immensely. He had too much studying to do and didn’t trust these people enough to sleep for long periods of time, but an hour or so to recover from the shock and horror of the revelation of the soul shards would be very helpful. His magic might have been replenished from performing the act of good, but his emotional state had yet to recover. He fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.