Carefully Tangled Webs of Darkness | By : Ladygreychaton Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 37460 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 4 |
Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter, characters, rights to, any books, movies, songs, poems or references made. Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling, this is just for fun, with no intentions of profit. |
[[ Do not own Harry Potter, characters, rights to, any books, movies, songs, poems or references made. Several hints to Harry Potter books, but again belong to J.K. Rowling. Any further things belong to their original owners, aside from original characters. Used with no intention of profit! Obviously C.S. Lewis owns Chronicles of Narnia!
Quotes from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Pottermore, Wikia, hints at other books, or other things I may have forgotten, none of them belong to me! ]]
****************************************************************************The next few weeks were eventful to be sure. Harry celebrated his eleventh birthday quietly, though with considerably more presents. Owls delivered gifts from the Malfoy family, and Mr. Ryans went all out in a way he hadn't before--- perhaps he was aware of how little time was left, Hogwarts looming on the horizon. Even the Dursleys were very nearly cheerful on his day of birth, to which the green-eyed boy had to wonder.
From Mrs. Figg (that strange neighbor down the street with the cat-that-wasn't), he received more books, hardcover copies of The Chronicles of Narnia by C. S. Lewis, to which Harry was delighted to add to his collection of fiction.
The Dursleys made dinner, and over a supper of pot roast, vegetables and treacle tart, Vernon offered to help look over Harry's accounts while Aunt Petunia reminded Harry she could look over various family trees and holdings. It was small, but rather thoughtful, a step in the right direction. This also helped reveal that while Harry had a great deal of money, the goblins of Gringotts Wizarding Bank did not count stocks and property as monetary value specifically. Owning the royalties on the stocks and market value on the potions that his ancestors had invented, or a percentage at least, meant that he received a portion of the earnings and that should sales go up, his vaults inflated. Naturally, should sales take a plummet, so would his vault gold in percentage of stock. Vernon also informed him just how many properties he owned as a Linfred (Potter) combined with the Peverall lines : one in Stinchcombe, another in Godric's Hollow, and a third in Devonshire. The Gryffindor properties did not list themselves, and there were three properties for the Blacks as well. The overall value of property value added to his vault, stock, and monetary worth and Harry was left trying to retain the information that his Uncle painstakingly went over as his nonmagical accountant (however stiffly).
What had once been a forbidden subject with Aunt Petunia suddenly became her favorite topic. Not only did he learn about his nonmagical family, she pulled out albums of pictures. He got to know his family, how his relatives looked. Harry watched his mother grow up, saw her smile and dance, the small redheaded girl spark with spirit and joy as she encouraged a tall skinny blond to join her. Petunia used her joy for gossip to go over his magical family trees, helping Harry discover who had married into what family, and making it a game. When someone married out of wedlock, or was knocked off a family tree, or disowned, the woman ate this news up. It was never quite clear, as the details were not written out, but it was best to be knowledgeable on the topic of who was accepted into what family and who was not. It was a very strange occurence for the boy.
Even Dudley had given his green-eyed cousin an old toy soldier that had been his everything and Harry had once been forbidden to touch for his birthday. A mending of bridges, reaching out to the other boy as his equal. Harry was touched, and thanked the pudgy blond boy with a wide smile and a pat on his wide shoulders.
When he had visited Albert, he had received supplies that left him quite gobsmacked--- a mortar and pestle of his own, bundles of dried herbs and bottles of natural oils that could last him weeks before he'd have seek out more. The owner of Augury Shoppe had also provided him with a steady supply of Chlorogalum, or soaproot, which Harry used to make his personal soaps and shampoos. It really was the only way that his sensitive skin and defensive hair tolerated being cleaned consistently.
The Irish squib also endeavored to teach him how to carry himself, how to sit properly (since apparently there was a way), and how to walk. All forms of pureblood etiquette were drilled into him, on whether it was acceptable to shake hands with someone, or how to avoid insulting a witch or wizard. Apparently, it was fairly easy to insinuate that you thought you were better than someone else, or that you were uneducated, both things that Harry wanted to avoid. So he endured the lessons on posture (which he secretly thought were Albert's way of torturing him, tying him to tall-backed chairs and insisting that he be appropriate distance from the table when eating), the right spoons or forks, and even the right holidays. Pagan holidays to be exact. Purebloods often embraced the old ways, as it empowered their magic and bloodline. Men like Dumbledore were poorly thought of because they brought muggle holidays into the norm and circulated it, making pagan religion frowned upon as 'dark', something only those who practiced black magic did.
While this proceeded during the day, Diaboli quized him often at night. The shade began to teach him various aspects of legal matters, political leanings and important matters that Harry should have learned in a wizarding household. He learned who was who in the magical world, and their basic family connections. Family trees and intermarriage between them that were not listed on his documents from Gringotts, words that the boy often found ugly were ingrained into his being. Diaboli was very knowledgeable on the topic of the social elite of the wizarding world, the pureblood society. He took great joys into discussing ways to bend them to one's will. The art of manipulation was also carefully drilled into the child, the cloaked and slightly demented man in the toddler's bedroom stressing the importance of swaying emotions and thoughts of others, but keeping your own at arms length. Harry was uncertain he could remember it all, especially when advised that he should carry certain jewelry on his person and look for other items on members of the wizarding community.
For example, drops of amber stone were usually pierced in a wizard's or witch's ears so that one did not have to make the social faux pas of finding out if they were in season (another way of asking if they were out or wanting to marry, or had a betrothed). Harry found it all very confusing, but grudgingly agreed that the earrings were useful and even purchased his own with the help of Albert. It was terribly hard to keep track, as there were seven different styles in total just for the left ear! The boy thought he'd never remember them all.
Another example, a honey amber drop in your left ear meant you were promised to someone but had no formal contract at this time. Whereas the lemon colored amber meant that you were pure and free, but not looking (this was the stone that Harry elected to use for his own droplet, which Albert agreed seeing as Harry was only eleven). Pure amber on the other hand, meant that you were free and pure but were actually seeking a contract or partner. A deep cherry amber resin meant that there had been a death in the family, and that one ought not to approach that person for courting at this time (which Harry actually found highly useful as it prevented many social blunders).
Cognac colored amber meant that they had betrothal contract at this time, and were seeking to become engaged so please adjust your behavior accordingly. A buttermilk or cloudy colored amber stone from the left ear meant that the person was seeking not only a betrothal, but an alliance with a family or families. Possibly a protectorate as well. And finally, a mixed set of stones with varying colors dangling usually meant that the person was married but still in school, and possibly expecting. It was the high society's way of saying 'back off, I am no longer out'.
Rules for jewelry seemed so terribly complicated, the boy wizard had long since decided. For example, the most powerful House was supposed to go on his right hand index finger if he was it's Head. As he was currently only Heir Regent, he was supposed to move the Black House ring to his middle finger with it's crossed sabers and raven over onyx. The Potter family ring would move to his left hand when he was fourteen, when he became appropriately titled for that, but many times Diaboli raged that Harry had not pursued the Peverall or Gryffindor bloodlines completely for absolute control. Both Houses would surpass Black and Potter, and move the rings down his hands and the green-eyed child wondered if the shade did this out of his best interest or envy. But when he tried to argue that one-third of the Peverall vault and half of Gryffindor was more than enough for the time being, the ruby-eyed man had flown off the handle.
Harry's head spun with House crests and facts about what spoon to hold, what person had married whom in the 17th century and what house he owned in what Hollow. His ear was healing nicely, and no longer stung, as much as he was getting used to the weight of the strange bauble dangling from it. It was strange to know that he would be going to Hogwarts with a case of rings as well as seven earrings. Pureblood society had far too many intricate nuances, in his humble opinion...
Twilfitt and Tatting's Owl catalog had offered something called 'Acromantula Silk', which his new friends from Madam Malkins had excitedly chattered was made by large and magical spider-kin. Harry, eager to feel it against his skin, had bought a lot of his clothing in this form despite the cost, from cowls to tunics, and even some sheets, blankets and underclothes.
Shortly after that he also received in the mail a letter and package from Mrs. Malfoy, her husband and son, Draco. A bit surprised at the speed, the boy had read the letter first :
Dear Mr. Potter-Black,
I hope this letter finds you in good humor and good health. While we were notably unprepared for your succession as the Heir Regent of the Black House, we find this arrangement has fulfilled a great hole in the long lines between Potter, Black, and Malfoy.
Naturally, we seek only to further the relations of our family and friendship between us.
Should you have any need of us, send an Owl to Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire. May communication always be an option between Great and Noble families.
Hoping you are well,
Head of the Malfoy Family & Hogwarts Board of Governors
Lucius Malfoy
Narcissa Malfoy née Black
Draco Malfoy scion of House Black
Harry set the letter aside, wondering if it was possible to sound both humble and pretentious at once. Snorting a bit to himself, he moved to the package. Untying the thick cord that bound it together was a chore, and since Hecate had insisted on being present to chase the Malfoy's regal looking eagle off, he figured she might as well make herself useful. So, with the utmost dignity that the raven possessed, she carefully shredded through the package without damaging the contents within. The black haired boy was a tad astonished, but the red eyed avian merely looked at him as though she was saying, 'You truly doubted me, human?'
Playfully swatting the taunting bird off to her favorite perch atop his bedpost, Harry moved to examine the remains of the package and it's cargo. Shaking out the first of it, revealed that inside contained a series of robes along with several cloaks. Rather than buying Harry three as formal robes as she had said, Narcissa Malfoy had doubled that and bought him six. After that, the personal cloak she had offered to purchase in order to cover for his arachnid-friends crawling across his neck had also been doubled into two personal cloaks. That left him staring in awe at the packages and it's overstuffed load.
The first robe was done in a pale silver with sky blue accents of thread. It felt like butter in his hands, but he hadn't a clue what it was made of, nor the cost. High-necked with simple silver fastenings, Harry loved it at once and couldn't imagine liking others... until he saw them. The second robe was a deep and royal purple, with golden filigree stitchings along the sleeves, shoulders and bottom hem. The robe's hem was also split a bit like petals (which reminded Harry of a tuxedo's tails) with a darker undercarriage of black cloth seen beneath. It was altogether more masculine than the first one, but both were lovely. If this was what the Malfoys had offered, he could hardly argue in Narcissa's taste in clothing!
There were two identical pairs of robes save for their color that folowed--- a pure red robe, and a pure green. Each were magnificently resplendent in velvet, with long sleeves hugging tightly to his arms then flaring at the wrist to encompass his hand in flowing yards of fabric. Each were accompanied with low-waisted belts, one silver one gold, though Harry had to wonder if they were real precious metals. All of this was starting to make him scoff at the cost a family was willing to put out. Really, just what were they up to?
His fifth robe was in shades of fall, and rustled just as much as it had been done in taffeta silk. Bronze, gold, shades of honey and ruby were draped in folds of fabric that swathed around elegantly. There were several folds that ended in a cravat like appearance at the neckline, with an onyx stone masculine broach (at this point Harry wondered at the jewelry included in the robes, but could hardly argue as it was all suiting). The sixth from the pile was simplistic in it's elegance in the fact that it was black satin with ivory borders. Closer inspection proved that they were tiny pearls inlaid in sleeves and along a stiff high-rise collar. A pattern of some sort, perhaps runes or a spell, seemed inlaid in the pearls and laying of the ivory and Harry found it mesmerizing.
The green-eyed boy was now the proud owner of six beautiful robes, and found himself a bit trepidacious. What else would he discover? Gingerly setting the robes aside to put in his Hogwarts trunk, Harry surveyed the first personal cloak. A personal cloak was meant for off time, a time when one did not have to be affiliated with the school nor wear it's Coat of Arms. Therefore, a personal cloak was something worn privately to or from school or around off school trips.
The first cloak was a sapphire blue, and held the Coat of Arms for the House of Black, a raven with a pair of crossed rapier swords boldly displayed across it's back. It was done in blue velvet, but the inside revealed a thick coating of soft fur. Harry had to wonder what sort of animal had offered it, perhaps a snowy rabbit or fox, as it was pure white and softer than anything he'd felt. The magic that shimmered around it reminded him that he would stay as cool or as warm as his body required, and he was comforted by this fact. A silver clasp at it's throat ensured the hood, and overall stability of the mantle.
Moving to the last item in the package, the green-eyed boy found a similar personal cloak, only this one was done in a splendid burgundy. The richness of the color was eyecatching and across the back was the Potter crest, a roaring lion facing a prancing stag with a laurel around them. The inside was done in fine red fox fur, with a gold clasp at the throat. An echo of the other, but opposing at the same time. The same shimmer of spells, reflecting comfort, heat and cold, repelents for the elements, wear and tear, and additional length.
Harry reverently placed them both aside and sat down, exhausted. How was he supposed to respond to a letter like that, let alone a gift?! Diaboli would have his head if he didn't respond appropriately, and he'd surely know of each and every single significant thing. The boy wizard felt very out of his depth, wondering if entering the wizarding world would always be a game of power and displays of wealth to gain favor.
Harry fell asleep troubled with the feeling of Hecate grooming his strange hair, feeling it try and slither around the raven in turn. The summer was winding down, weeks drifting by in the blinking of an eye. The yawning little community of Little Whinging seemed quiet, but Harry was hardly at peace, busy as he was. Perhaps that was why time flew by, for time always seemed to go faster when one was occupied--- and it had certainly been hectic.
Mid-morning showed the boy wizard slowly pulling himself from slumber, the heat of summer making it hard to tear himself from sleep. But slowly, groggily, he escaped the arms of nod and woke to find himself in his bed. Yawning, the boy showered, dressed and set himself to rights, meeting his Aunt and Uncle downstairs for breakfast with a mumbled greeting. Dudley usually slept later on mornings such as these, and his parents didn't bother to wake him.
As the morning went on, and a hot breakfast of porridge and black pudding--- something his Aunt still shuddered a bit as she watched him mix the two, Harry began to feel more awake and aware. Forking a slice of blood sausage and trying to dutifully remember to keep his elbows off the table and his spine straight, the green-eyed child heard a tap-tap-tapping on the window. Tilting his head, he glanced over to find the big bay window rattling with an Owl holding a package as it desperately tried to get the attention of those within.
Standing, Harry let the owl in quickly, before Hecate could take it upon herself to chase and peck at the poor creature for doing a job she had declared belonged to her and her alone-- untying the burden from it's ankle. There was a note, and he hardly noticed the owl leaving as he briefly scanned the short contents before moving to the package.
'Mr. Potter-Black,His eyes roved greedily over the shaft, coming to rest over a tiny bulb that he would've missed had he not been looking for it at the very hilt. It almost... it almost looked like an eggsack with legs poking out. Somehow, that warmed Harry in a way that made the wand truly his. Truly, this was his wand, made just for him and him alone.
Glancing back at the box it had come in, Harry noted that a small wand cleaning supply kit lay tucked in a corner, as well as the Owl Ordering catalog he had requested. He'd thumb through that later, when he was better acquainted with his wand. After all, what else could a wand shop sell? Certainly they had to offer something of interest if they had a catalog, Harry reasoned to himself. But right now, he wanted to connect with his wand. He may not be able to use it out of school, but he could get a feel of it, of that he was sure.
Soon, the boy thought to himself, watching Dudley come down the stairs. Soon. As he proudly showed his wand off to his family and chattered away about it's qualities, his heart glowed. Hogwarts was just around the corner, and he'd get to ride the train, enter the wizarding world for the first time. Maybe, just maybe... he could make it.
__________________________________________________bill560682 : Oh my, 3 reviews! Yay! As for Slytherin, I personally think it's rather complicated and more than just being a true Slytherin or not. He might have Draco's loyalty and be able to use that to hide things, or he might use Ravenclaw's Anonymity. However, I looooove Hufflepuff, never doubt that. I love all houses, but I cannot see this Harry going into Hufflepuff at this time. Maybe I'll write another spin-off where he will, but this one was not intended to do, but I do like your input! ...As for males, I'm not sure yet. I think he's going to see how things go. Flirting a bit with females, sample them, realize what he wants, then maybe try a few males, before settling. As one would in real life. Maybe Dennis or Colin will be tried, who knows? And he didn't 'tell' Mrs. Applegate so much as give her a feeling. But you do have the right idea! Manipulation is more about pushing to make things sound good ~ CDGaymer : Most likely. As I said, I love other houses, but this just seems to be leading up to that. That's how it flows. I have ideas for other stories, but I like to stick to one at a time, otherwise I won't continue it. I'm glad you like it! Hope you liked this one! Anon reviewer/reader : Oh my! Yes, I'm waiting for Aragog. I have plans for a lot of things saved in various files, actually. Since I can't implement them, but don't want to forget them, I save them separately. That way I don't push too many things at once and can pace this decently, I think... hopefully that comes across. The spiders are afraid of the basilisk because they have so many eyes they can't close them all, they're afraid of it's gaze. That's why it's considered as 'unspeakable' as Voldemort is to wizardkind. So I wonder if that will be overcome... it does sound interesting, and has a nice edge to it. Again, I love love love Hufflepuff, but I really don't think he'd be able to go there. His ambition and cunning probably outweighs his desire to be loyal and hardworking... as he's only loyal to the spiders, and they're with him. He reads a lot, and has a great interest in learning overall, so the pursuit of knowledge for knowledge's sake is there... mm. I'll just have to make him friends with a lot of Puffs or visit a lot. Hope you like this chapter. Hogwarts soon!
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