Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
[[ 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! ]]
Moved sections at the behest of the reviewers! Hopefully.... that's okay. It's AU, but it does follow quite a bit of canon, and I look up a lot of things on Pottermore and Harrypotterwikia. Though I do take appropriate liberties... Anyways! Enjoy!
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The Dursley household was celebrating their considerably plumper paychecks, the success of the dinner party and Grunning's deal. But the Potter family, the small and close-knit bit of Kin that lived in the smallest bedroom of Number 4 Privet Drive... were mourning. Grieving, and waiting. For soon that eggsack in Harry's clavicle notch would hatch, as the feeble Sobek warned with glee.
So Harry went to school, mechanically following his studies. People hardly noticed a difference in the prodigy child. After all, he didn't often speak to others. His grades didn't differ or drop, so his teachers paid it no mind, wondering if it was just the burden of a young child being placed in a class three years his senior. Secondary school was supposed to be a challenge, after all. But nonetheless, Harry's quiet emotional struggle passed by virtually unnoticed.
The fact that Harry had succeeded in a severely difficult task allowed him more freedom with his 'handlers'. Vernon was more willing to allow him a bit of leg room, so if he wandered off to library, or was a bit late from school, the man hardly noticed. The child seemed to still be well in-hand, so he was hardly going to argue with th few allowances that he'd made. Plus, it was more time for the Dursley family to be alone, without their unnatural burden crowding up the space. He was, after all, still an outsider within the home.
Hecate circled overhead as Harry Potter wandered down the street, debating entering Magnolia Crescent. After a small detour, the black-haired boy wandered back out into the streets and away from his carefully fenced neighborhood. The perfectly normal and carbon houses that didn't allow for individuality. A rarity there was 'the best garden' contest, where one could at least have something dissimilar, if only slightly.
Harry trudged back through the suburban neighborhood, heading to the outskirts. Carefully picking his way through the streets, he didn't bother to stop at the local park. Further along there was the community shopping plaza, and the green-eyed boy headed there. He wanted to get away, to forget for a while. To squash the feelings that began to overwhelm him when surrounded by the Dursleys and others that didn't seem to speak the same... language.
The air was refreshing here, brushing across the smooth skin of his face, marred but for the single scar atop his brow. The wind seemed crisp, a change in the season and Harry huddled into his simple black fog coat. Signs were bright, but the colorblind boy couldn't pick one out from another and chose instead based off what he was interested in from the shop. Vernon had given him small pocket change, a reward for his 'pet' doing so well, and he intended to do what he liked with it.
The young wizard entered the first store that caught his fancy, which just so happened to be a book store. It was not terribly unusual to see him about, purchasing things with or without his Uncle, so the general populous of Little Whinging was hardly batting an eyelash at his presence. He usually visited topics that were expected of him--- but at the moment, he was not in the mood to do as he was told. Sobek quietly agreed with him, his many limbs splayed over the egg sack and his voice a quiet murmur of approval.
Travelling the aisles, eventually the young Potter found a section for insects. Further study found the category for anthropods, and then arachnids. This would be useful, he decided. Especially when the little ones hatched. He had so many Kin, now... and more coming. It often seemed like even strays were called to his house, like a beacon for spiders. A strange occurence, to be sure. But it was better to be prepared, to be knowledgeable on the topic, Harry firmly believed. A well-educated holder of... the boy paused, holding the book in his hands for a moment. Just what did he call himself? He had spiders in his skin, living spiders. He sought their well-being, and took care of them. They, in turn, took care of him. Symbiosis was what Kali had called it, with her quiet assurance. A mutual relationship that benefited both of them. But what could he call those that dwelled within? Skin-walkers, Harry supposed was the best way to put it. He'd have plenty more of them soon, a colony of them. Kali had guaranteed that roughly half of them would be absorbed or eaten by the other spiders--- or Harry's own body. The boy was uncertain how he was supposed to feel about his body eating baby spiders.
These thoughts didn't really unsettle him, but were a bit confusing, nonetheless. Pushing them aside, Harry moved to the till with his purchase, smiling genteelly. The cashier was polite and bagged his book for him, slipping the receipt in with the rest. Pulling open the door, the green eyed child made his way back out into the cold. He was not particularly in the mood to return to the Dursley residence, and Hecate hopped onto a new sign, giving a loud and determined caw! to get his attention.
Green eyes roved over the sign, wondering why the raven was insistent on this particular store. He'd heard about it, but never gone in. Each time a flier was pressed into Vernon's beefy hand, his mustache would frizz and he would puff himself up and decline. Yanking Harry away with such speeds, the boy was certain his arm was going to fall off. He'd never had a chance to see what the store really was, or what it offered. But if he was going to be rebellious, he supposed today ought to be a good day for it.
The sign read Augury Shoppe and the letters were looped in fancy script. Harry's hand hesitated, then pulled on the handle beneath the 'welcome' sign. A jingle signaled his entrace, a bell sounding. The smartly dressed boy glanced around curiously, green eyes roving the wares only to stop in surprise--- for some of it was in color. For a boy who had been living in a world that varied in shades, dependent especially on gray. But for shades of green, red, orange, and vivid purple to suddenly be lit up around him... the child was momentarily in awe.
After adjusting to the suddenly rainbow effect, Harry blinked the stars from his eyes and actually tried to figure out what this store was about. Various stones that the child was faintly curious about lined shelves; purple ones, some that looked like they'd just been unearthed. Others that looked like they'd been polished and shaped. Many more were things he recalled reading about in his Geography class, geodes of amethyst. Stones of jasper, quartz, amber and turquoise. Where in the world had he wandered?
Kali purred contently, a soft sound in his head that warmed him as he took his time glancing about. There were metal wares about, bent into shapes, swirls and dangling charms. Moons and various pentagrams, symbols of stick figure people. Harry smiled slightly, glancing at the marble section, then roving over. There were candles of varying sizes, in colors he'd only dreamed of. Heard mention of, really. They were scented, some of them, the tags noted. Others were not. All were made by hand, which seemed entirely unusual. Why was Vernon so against such an odd, but interesting place?
The moment he thought it, the boy snorted internally. Of course his Uncle would be against this place --- anything that was abnormal, or interesting and new had to be bad. Anything that did not broadcast on the right 'channels' did not meet with his approval. A place like this, which would not gather many customers in a town like Little Whinging... well, he couldn't imagine his walrus-like Uncle, or his horse-like Aunt appreciating anything here.
He must have been staring into the candles for some time, musing to himself, for the next thing he knew... a man was clearing his throat. His head jerked up at the sound, blinking wide eyes and glancing around in alarm for the sound. Harry must've looked amusing, for the man chuckled and came forward.
"Easy now, easy. Now, don't get too riled up, lad. Nothin' to be startled about.... My name's Albert Ryans, and I own this place," he admitted, smiling slowly. He was not overly tall, and Harry guessed him to be in his early thirties. He had strawberry blond hair, and it was thinning on top but appeared a bit long on the sides--- another reason for Vernon to disapprove. Mr. Ryans had friendly watery blue eyes, and he was rather pale, and covered with freckles. His accent said he wasn't from the area, lending an Irish sing-song lilt to his voice.
Harry paused, gathering his bearing before he answered slowly. "My apologies, sir. You have a very interesting store... I've... never seen anything like it, to be honest," the boy blinked at the man before realizing something he hadn't noticed before. "You... you have red in your hair," Harry blurted out rather inelegantly.
Albert laughed, a delighted sound at the boy's honesty, and Harry coloured slightly, looking down. "So I do! So I do, lad. Why, is that so odd round here? I'd expect I'm not the first ging' you'd see," came the amused reply.
Harry shook his head, bashfully explaining, "No sir, it's just that... well, I'm colorblind. I can't... see colors on the spectrum. But you... sir, I can see your hair! It is... well, faintly it's rather shocking." The boy bit his lip, but held his ground. Pheobe made soothing comments, reminding him that he'd done nothing wrong. To keep his chin up.
Mr. Ryans appeared shocked for a moment, then glanced around the shop. After a second or two, he straightened his brightly coloured tunic top and cleared his throat. It was an eccentric outfit, to be sure, but not much different than the store. "You cannot see color... but you can see my colors?" The man fished carefully the lilt of his voice making the vowels soft, and rolling the r's musically until they no longer sounded like 'r's' at all. His words moved quickly together, despite his careful pronouncement of the question.
The Potter child nodded slowly, carefully. Kali stirred again, wary in her internal web. She was ever-watchful of things that might hurt her little Spinner. Her whispered words gave confidence and he lifted his chin, staring at the man in his faint, and vaguely lit shop. "Yes, that's what I'm saying. I'm saying that I can't see certain colors. But in your shop... and on you specifically, I can," Harry stated clearly.
Mr. Ryans breathed out slowly, running a hand distractedly through his hair. After a moment he glanced around again, a bit paranoid it seemed. "Right. What's your name, lad? Because I've got something to tell you... and it's a bit important that we talk on the level..." His smile was shaky, but sincere.
The green eyed child held his hand out, wanting to properly greet the strange man who owned such a colorful place. "My name's Harry, Harry Potter. Pleased to meet you..." His hand was small, but with long fingers. The hands spoke of hard work, but a simple sort of classic look, something you were born into. Good bones, some might say. He'd have to grow into them, though.
The owner of Augury Shoppe gasped, then aborted the sound, sucking it quickly back in. Scanning the child's forehead, Albert Ryans noted the thin white scar atop his brow, zig-zagging in the shape of a lightning bolt. It was true, he had green eyes, startling in their clarity and shade. His hair was as dark and black as you'd expect it to be, blotted ink soaking up light. Though, it appeared it was not as unkept as the late James Potter's had been rumored to have been, perhaps this was a trait from the mother... Lily Potter?
"Right. So you are..." Albert moved around Harry, briskly making his way to the front door. The green-eyed boy was alarmed when he realized that the shop owner was throwing the locks and turning the sign from 'open' to closed, drawing the shades down over the glass of the door. But before Harry could answer the warning hiss of his Skin-walkers, the ginger-haired man was back in front of him. "Right. So, I imagine you've never met another of your kind before," Mr. Ryans began.
"My kind?" Harry interrupted hurriedly, clinging to his bag. He scanned the other curiously, wondering what he meant. Slightly uncomfortable or not, he wanted to know what was going on.
"Yes, your kind," Agreed the Irishman. He paused then smiled. "Harry Potter... you are famous in our world. My lad, you are the most talked about name in the entire Wizarding world..." Here, the balding redhead paused, chuckling. "Myself? I... I was after a pureblood line named Ryan from Ireland, but I m'self am a Squib. I see magic, but I don't do it particularly. Nothing you don't see here, that is."
Harry paused, then mouthed the words, repeating, "Wizard? That's what we're called?" He licked his lips, letting the rest of it sink in. "Me? Why am I famous? I don't understand. What's a... Squib? Is that different? Where are my parents really? Why was I placed with non-magicals?" The questions were fired off in rapid succession, having been stewing in a part of his young brain for quite some time. Harry had refused to believe that his parents had died in a car crash, no. Not if they were 'like him'. Though Vernon wouldn't say what he 'was', he did admit that his 'kind' were different, and that they were like him, too. That he and his wife were perfectly normal, thank-you-very-much.
Albert laughed awkwardly at the nine year old's questions, shifting. "You don't mince words, right. Well, I'm not sure if I'm the best person to tell you all this. I don't right know why you were left with non-magical sort, Harry. We call those muggles, usually, among Witches or Wizards. But don't go throwing it around, yeah?" He glanced at the boy, and waited for his nod before continuing. "As for what muggles, squibs, wizards and witches are... huh. How to explain that one..." The ginger scratched at the back of his head for a moment before seeming to have a sudden epiphany. He scooped up five marbles from the assortment of stones beside him and began again. "Alright. You see this black marble?" It was dark, black with specks of color, but it looked like coal that had been rolled with a few colors nearby. "This here is a muggle. They have a core, but it's empty. No path ways, no magic. Some are... highly intelligent. Some are highly suspicious. In the Wizarding world, we have people researching why they have the space and pathways but are born without anything at all. A few bad and dark wizards have experimented on non-magical folk... tried to force a core on 'em. Ended up killing 'em. Overloaded them. But just because they're muggles doesn't mean they can't sense things, if they've the right sort. Intelligence, personality. Traits, a bendable mind. Muggles without a core may lack magic, but they have ingenuity."
Harry thought of Mrs. Applegate, her suspicious nature having made her altogether wary of each filmy thread of his spells. It made sense. Some minds were harder to bend, muggle or magical.
Albert held up the next marble. "Then we have the Squibs, like m'self," He smiled wryly, though he didn't appear off-put. The marble he held up was a brown color with sparks of amber, but overall something you'd ignore at first glance. Not something flashy. "Squibs are what most magical folk call 'defective'---" Harry opened his mouth to angrily cut him off, but Albert shook his head. "I didn't say I agreed, that's just the world, lad. We have a core. We have the pathways. But for some reason... when we're born, we're unable to access it. Some say it's a bit smaller than normal. Runts. Inbreeding, or bad blood... muggle blood mixing with pure magic. Frankly, all that is known is that a person with the right sort... can see magic, but can't do it. Sometimes, we can do potions. Tarot cards, little things. The lucky sort get visions, Magesight. The happy sort get accepted by their family. Unlucky sort get kicked off the family tree... a blight for simply being 'unnatural'."
The word stung Harry and he wanted to growl, reminded of Vernon's own obsession with being normal. Pheobe whispered encouragingly in his ear until he settled again.
Ryans shrugged, smiling. "That's why you can see my hair, lad. Don't let it get to you... I'm a lucky sod," Moving on he dropped the first two marbles and shifted to the last three.
"Now, we come to witches and wizards, though I ain't worried if they're dark or light right now," Albert admitted honestly. He held up the first marble, an orange flamed marble with a hint of red at it's center. It looked like blown glass with a red flame dancing within. Harry was mesmerized. "This here, this is what we call an averagely powerful wizard or witch. They have open pathways, and can access their magic. As long as nothing happens, they won't turn into a Squib. Or be a weaker level. Everyone you meet is likely at this level as an adult. Very few go beyond this. But that's nothing to be ashamed of, no! You can do a lot with this level of magic... some would give their left hand to even get this high. Technically, there is a level between Squib and this... but you won't see many, so I'll skip that." He laughed nervously. "My point, laddie, is that average power levels are incredible in our world. Male or female. Don't underestimate anyone."
He pulled out a blue marble next, dropping the red stone and sighed. "This is the second to last stone, Harry. Do you know what that means?" The blue glass was laced with swirls and moved in ways that made the green-eyed boy dizzy, as though waves were crashing along the marble. "This is for Masters of an Art. They are advanced. Their core is powerful, and it's been built up. Their pathways have been expanded, and they have more tools at their disposal. Do not cross someone who has a Mastery of something... do not seriously Duel them unless you can handle yourself, Mr. Potter. You won't like the results." The marble clattered into the rest and only the final one was left.
"The last," Albert began, holding up a purple marble. "Is for something... else. This is for those who have magic beyond, for those who are expected to go beyond. Who have extra abilities, who have extra Masteries. Bloodlines." He paused, holding the marble out for Harry to get a better view of it. It was a light lilac at first, then gradually it bloomed into such a bright violet that Harry thought it was glowing. The colors seemed to be moving, swaying, molten. "This is for those that are considered Lords or Ladies of Magic. There have been many through the ages... Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw.... Merlin, Morgana... Grindelwald, Dumbledore. He-who-must-not-be-named... and rumor has it... you. You child, have been named as a successor. As of now, only Grindelwald and Dumbledore live. Which leads me to the discussion of why you're famous..."
Albert then went on to explain why Harry was famous. How he had 'defeated' He-who-must-not-be-named, and how his parents had truly died. Kali sat silently, and Pheobe did a strange tremble dance along his chest, trying to soothe him as his heart pounded. The man explained that this was how he had really got his scar, and most likely why he was given to his mother's sister's family. The ginger-haired Squib gently lead him to the door then, saying that he needed time to digest this. After he had, that he was welcome to come back.
Harry moved on auto-pilot, carrying his bag with his purchased book home... to the Dursley house. Walking back through Wisteria Walk to Magnolia Crescent and up to Privet Drive. He felt numb, his mind buzzing with thoughts. Now, more than ever he missed Ren. Pheobe soothingly tried to comfort him, as Kali made comments about how they would return tomorrow. That much, the young child quickly agreed with.
Walking into the Dursley household was troublesome.
"Boy!" Barked Vernon. "Where have you been? Nevermind, come, make us dinner. You know... that... special way that you know how. Quickly, your Aunt and I have had a long day!" His jowls were wobbling again and he was gesturing in the sort of imperious manner that said he expected it to be done 'now' and not later.
The green-eyed child was tired. He didn't want to argue. For a moment he stared at Vernon. Simply stared at his beefy Uncle. He didn't need this. Yes, things would change. Armed with the knowledge that he could change things, and he would be getting answers from now on... answers that didn't have to come from one Vernon Dursley, Harry Potter smiled kindly. "Yes, Sir." With that he moved quickly and began to charm the dinner to do as his portly relatives (minus Petunia, who was thin) wished. Things would change, soon.
That night, after retiring to his room, Harry lay reading against the broken headboard. Hecate was perched atop the busted wooden desk, and he'd occasionally raise a hand to give her a distracted pet, to which she'd press into and croon. The book on spiders was actually rather interesting, he was finding out. He hadn't known many of these facts. Some of them, he found, neither had the spiders. When he'd asked them why their venom didn't bother him none had an answer other than a giggle, telling him what a silly Spinner he was.
Eventually, it was getting late. But as he lay down to close his book, he heard a voice. It was Sobek. "They're hatching...."
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Albert Ryans, an Original Character based off an actual canon character. He won't be appearing too much after Harry goes to school. He's not going to be over-powered Gary-Sue, either. He's just a friendly Squib that has a shop. If you want details on his bloodline and connections, let me know! It might come up in future years, hint hint!
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BBWulf : Oh no, I'm not offended by that. This will be slow-rising in the romance department. He's nine at the moment. And I actually plan on him experimenting with both males and females before he finds his niche in life... realistic. Eventually he'll settle down. But you'll likely see warning flags on what to 'skip over' by the general clues of the mood of a chapter. I hope you continue to enjoy it, hm? And there are plenty of things to like, slash or no!
lolol : Ren was hard to do. Not because I was particularly attached... it was more that there were possibilities and how it could go? The mindset. But, it was necessary for Harry to realize that Vernon Dursley is not the only way to take things, and he needs to break his leash. You'll be seeing a lot more of that. Hopefully you like the way things head in the future...
Sweet Wisteria : Ahh, Ren is a bit like a security blanket. Without her, Harry's waking up. A bit more determined this way. Painful, but necessary. As for Mrs. Applegate... she wasn't a Squib, but she was just a bit of a paranoid person. Constant Vigilance! Jumpy, you might say. The sort of twitchy Chihuahua type woman. Her mind wasn't bending easily because of that. Her husband, on the other hand... he's so used to his wife nagging, he just wanted to relax! Between work and his wife, he'd jump at someone taking over for him. I don't know if Harry will like traditional magic.... some yes, some no. It'll be a hard transition... to be sure.
Tesgura : Thank you! I'm glad you like it. I have a plan for the wand that will require... ahh, I can't spoil it. It's not conventional, but it's not something that's over-powered god-modding. It's also something I haven't seen done before, personally, this particular method at least? But you'll see. I don't know how Harry will handle the crowds. Probably be a bit weirded out, but polite as long as they are, I suppose.
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Carefully Tangled Webs of Darkness