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
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[[ 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!
The Letter belongs to J.K. Rowling, from the Philosopher's Stone pg. 51 and not me. I claim no rights or profit!]]
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Harry worked the pestle rock into the mortar, humming in a pleased sort of matter. The dried spices of star anise were mixing with a bit of dried sandalwood bark and cinnamon. This would help relax the boy while he worked, and he was carefully working it into a fine powder, adding more as he went. Albert observed the child as he diligently turned the stone in the bowl, his gloved hands careful and steady. Eventually, when he had enough, he pulled the flour-like mixture out, and added measured drops of water until he could knead it into a dough form. Fingers smoothly plucked out small balls and formed them into precise cone shapes, setting them aside to dry, moving on to finish up the batch. When he had finished, Harry turned to Albert.
"It's good to get away sometimes, thank you for teaching me," the green-eyed boy offered with a smile. He had grown a lot, but he was still polite. If anything, he appeared more free and relaxed than when the ginger had first met him.
The squib flashed a grin, shelving a new glass orb the size of his fist. It looked like mottled green, mixed with shades jade and moss. "Not a problem, Harry. I was after company, anyways," Albert chuckled, the Irish lilt to his voice standing out next to Harry's own Surrey accent. "Not many join my shop lest they're after their parent's disapproval... or on a binge."
Harry smiled, leaning back to glance at the empty but colorful shop. It was true, many didn't bother to show up in this place. A few stragglers would make their way here, homeopathic lovers, some who couldn't let go of the years of 'Peace and Harmony'. But for the most part, it was quiet. He quite liked it that way, himself.
The years had been quiet and comfortable for Harry in Little Whinging, Surrey. Of course, at first he'd had to ensure that Vernon understood what he meant. But aside from a few minor hiccups, it was now a quiet and comfortable life. He worked in the garden when he liked, or helped out with the chores at his own whims. Occasionally, he even helped out his cousin Dudley with his homework, who was a much quieter boy and becoming rather well-liked. Vernon still did well at work, and his loss of temper was doing wonders for his health, he was told. They would never truly love him, nor be comfortable in his presence, but he was happy... and that was important.
An owl chose that moment to swoop down over the shop and knock on the window. Hecate became territorial, being a large bird herself and flared her wings. The raven began to attack and pester the owl, even after Albert moved to let them both into the shop, sighing as he did so.
"...'Cate, stop that! Really!" Harry chastised, trying and failing to get his familiar to leave the owl alone so he could figure out just what was going on. Eventually she settled with a squwk, her red eyes glaring at the owl. Her beak looked sharp, and the poor bedrangled thing hid, shaking against the young wizard's shoulder. "What on earth is this about, do you think...?" The boy trailed off as he saw a letter clutted in the talons of the owl. One with a red wax seal, and a coat of arms above it with a styled capital 'H'.
Albert nodded, sighing. "I was expecting that would arrive soon, seeing as your eleventh birthday is in a few days, Harry. If you weren't already down for it, you'd have got a bunch of offers for other schools," Here the squib paused as though he was considering something. "You know, you don't have to go to Hogwarts. Just because you were written down, paid for... you can retract your submission, decline. I know 'nough about these things... we can look into other schools, if that's what you're worried about. There are others..." He trailed off, wanting to help the scarred child who sat frozen, staring at an envelope in his hand, unopened.
Harry finally moved, after what felt like an eternity of stillness he looked up. Wetting his lips, he meticulously and slowly began to speak. "No, no I don't think I'll decline just yet... that is..." He paused. Green eyes flicked over to his adult friend. "Can you transfer schools later if you find yourself... if the school does not fit your specific needs?"
Albert paused, as though going through memories of when he was a part of his family. He still visited a branch of them, but it was less often as they didn't have much to talk about besides general health and well-being. After a few moments, he nodded. "Right. Well, you need to spend a whole year at one school, but fill out the paperwork during the school year you're in... so if you want to transfer for second year, you'd have to fill that out during first year," the Squib began, fiddling with beads on his tunic. "Usually you have to apply, and send test scores, your files and the like in your application... sometimes they'll include a further aptitude test to see where at they should place you. Seeing as some schools have a different cirriculum, different system and classes than Hogwarts. Durmstrang for example, they teach the Dark Arts which Hogwarts strictly opposes... you'd be vastly behind and limited with light magic or gray magic. You might end up taking Remedial classes in the summer, or have a tutor... or be dropped a year, depending."
Harry nodded, absorbing the information for a moment and took a breath. "Then I have nothing to lose, do I? I go to Hogwarts, just as my mother and father did." With that, he took the letter from the owl, who immediately flew into the rafters of the shop and away from the boy and his Raven. Hecate took it's place, shuffling about and ruffling her wings as though to appear larger. Amused, the boy opened the seal, beginning to read.

"HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress "
His hand moved to the second page, which included the a list of required items. "And I suppose you know where I'm supposed to get all these?" Harry asked with an arched brow, glancing at the various items that would be interesting to aquire. Some, like the glass or crystal vials, the brass scales and telescope, he already owned. Though that was partially due to his advanced study in muggle chemistry, astrology and biology classes... and his unusual friendship with Albert Ryans. However, a Wand, and various other items... he would not know where to start for those.
The balding redhead had moved into the back of Augury and was currently pulling out a roll of old-fashioned parchment. To Harry's confusion, he picked up a feathered quill and ink pot, offering all to the boy wizard. "I'm not in the mood for calligraphy right now, thanks," he began, only to have Albert laugh uproariously.
"No, lad! You need to pen your acceptance! After that, it'd be good to write a letter to Gringotts, that's the Wizard bank... your family is old, they likely left you something or two. That way, instead of showing up unannounced, you can warn them ahead of time that you just got your letter but haven't a key and will be showing up sometime soon. It's polite, and they'll be after to have your account manager waiting for you..." Mr. Ryans smiled, noting the Potter heir's gobsmacked expression. He honestly didn't think his parents had left him anything, nor had he thought ahead on what to do. "Come child, pen your letters," Albert coached gently.
Harry awkwardly gripped the quill, unscrewing the inkpot and dipping the end in. Blotting gently against the side he awkwardly began to pen his acceptance as instructed by the Squib, writing a simple note that yes, he wished to attend and would possibly be needing a guide, if none was provided, thank you. Next, he wrote to Gringotts, trying to formally request an interview with his account manager and to look into finding out if he had anything from his parents. Stating that he had just received his letter, and that he lived with muggles so he was not sure who had his vault key (if there was one) but knew that it was not in the hands of Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of Number 4 Privet Drive, nor his own.
Mr. Ryans offered to teach him how to work the quill, to sharpen, hold, and properly write with it before school term started. As it was something that would help his penmanship, and thus his grades, Harry readily accepted the squib with pureblooded lineage's help.
Signing them, and tying them quickly with ribbons, he offered one to the Hogwarts Owl who quickly took wing and flew out of the shop. The other he offered to Hecate. "Do you think you can find this Gringotts place? You're a right smart raven, but we've never been in the wizarding world... or to a Goblin bank..." Harry admitted a touch nervously.
Hecate seemed to huff and caw at him, nudging her beak under his chin. Tying it to her ankle, and taking her at her word, Harry escorted her to the door with a quickly muttered, "Be safe, then. Come back soon, you hear?"
With that settled, he turned to Albert. His veridian eyes searched the older man's, the jeweled hues serious. "It all begins now, doesn't it? Everything changes..." Harry's voice was subdued.
The Irishman laughed, laying a hand on the child's slim shoulder. Smiling gently, he shook his head. "Lad, it doesn't change any more than you knew it would, any more than ever it was. So just keep your chin up, and remember you're not alone."
Number 4 Privet Drive was rather casual when he returned home. Aunt Petunia asked with only a minor tick if he'd like to help make dinner, or if he wasn't in the mood. He accepted, helping chop vegetables and prepare the meat for the meal. It wasn't as disagreeable as one would expect, as she made small talk about her day, even asking if he had any tips for her garden or special compost. She still looked like a horse who would rather chew her lips or bridle, but it was a good start and hard work after two years.
Dudley came in from playing with his mates, moving to wash up and set the table. Quietly, he asked if Harry wouldn't mind helping him with a bit of basic arithmetic before supper was finished. Agreeing, they sat down, moving the placements to one side.
Vernon came home and greeted his wife, both young boys and then moved a stool to sit and help Petunia where Harry had left off --- that was another change. Meeker Vernon Dursley was a much more loving man, one who had lost a good two stone, spent a lot of time with his family and did well at work. One who still had to control himself around his nephew or his outbursts, but often took great deep breaths, twitching sometimes.
Harry waited until everyone had finished the dinner, and the conversation had settled down to a dull simmer before speaking up. "Aunt Petunia? Uncle Vernon?" The young wizard waited until he had both of their attention, then heaved a deep sigh. "My letter came today. I've already penned my acceptance, since we knew this was coming." He paused, suddenly remembering something. "I also might have money left by my parents, likely I'm told. My tuition is paid for, you don't have to worry. If I need something from you, I'll let you know. But I wanted to keep you informed, as you are my guardians..."
Vernon's mustache twitched and his small, watery eyes glanced across the table to his wife, noting how she wasn't flinching. After a moment Vernon closed his eyes then nodded to his wife, leaning back, gesturing for her to speak. Petunia, turning to Harry began slowly. "This... is not easy for us, Harry, but we are trying. We are aware of what school you speak of. Thank you for keeping us informed... and should you need anything..." She hesitated, as though pained. "Don't hesitate to ask. You are, after all... our nephew."
Baby steps, Harry thought. But it was the outcome he had hoped for. So, he nodded, served pudding with a smile and then washed the serving platters while Petunia loaded the dishwasher. Leaving the rest to be charmed, he headed upstairs for a quick wash and bed, he settled in.
His kin chattered quickly, but there was another he wanted to update, and for that he would need to be asleep. Hecate had yet to return, and nor had an Owl from Hogwarts, so he assumed all was well. But for now, he needed to speak to another. Slipping into sleep was difficult, but eventually, Harry managed it.
He encountered the small two story cottage from before, now aware that it was his former home. The toddler's bedroom, scattered with his old belongings seemed confusing and disillusioned. It was a bit like dysphoria, so Harry chose to ignore them and focus on the wizard that was fixated as always on the window. The cloaked figure seemed hell-bent on watching the view, as though one day he might hope to reach out and escape.
"Ssso, it'ss come, hass it?" Diaboli said quietly, his high accented voice soft as he stood still as a statue in the night.
Harry nodded, standing in the doorway. He wasn't afraid of the shade, though he was often half-mad. Sometimes, during his lucid moments he would speak with a sort of intelligence that he purposefully sought out. Tonight, Harry sought him out deliberately. "It has come, just as you and Albert said it would."
The figure sneered, of that the child was sure. You could hear it in his voice as he spoke. "Ahh, yessss, your Ssquib frriend. How quaint... pleassse refrain from ssspeaking of myself and him in the sssame sentence," Diaboli hissed, sounding both superior and annoyed.
Choosing to pick his battles, Harry bit his tongue and didn't continue on this train of thought. Glancing to the side, he picked up a small stuffed black dog that lay near a stuffed lion. They meant nothing to him, but it was something to do with his hands as he spoke. "What can I expect from the guide? From Hogwarts and it's Professors? What should I be wary of?" He asked instead, wanting the man to focus.
Diaboli glanced over his shoulder, ruby eyes nearly aglow in the dim light of the room beneath his hood. After a moment he turned slightly, a sign of his interest in the conversation. Always a good sign with the slightly temperamental shade. "Be wary of Albusss Dumbledore," Diaboli spoke with a deliberate sort of venom, the passion in his voice unmistakable.
"The headmaster?" Harry interrupted, finding the answer unexpected.
"Yessss," Hissed the shade, with a volatile sort of temper that took a moment for him to calm. "He judgesss anyone that doesn't fit under the Light ssspectrum... if you don't fit under his umbrella, then you ssshall find yoursself treated a wolf among his carefully managed flock. Or perhapsss a weed among flowersss, perhapss..." His upper lip curled, and he paused. "Dumbledore doess not view anything but light magic with ressspect. Your... dabblingss, and your friendssss..." He chuckled a bit and trailed off.
Harry nodded slowly, showing he understood. He would be careful at Hogwarts. If it truly got too bad, perhaps he'd end up transferring, as Albert and he had discussed. This sounded far more complicated than he liked at all.
"Many of the sstaff openly sside with him, assss I recall," Diaboli continued then paused. "I am uncertain who will be your guide, in my time it was the Transssfiguration Professsor." The sneer was back, and Harry wondered who that was. "Do not let them control the outing, Potter, or your Vault. Do not let them control you, and your possessssionsss." He was hissing in displeasure at the end, and the young wizard simply nodded.
"I know, I've already penned a letter to my account manager at Gringotts about my Vault key at Albert's suggestion," Harry told him, ignoring the other's muttering about how the squib wasn't 'entirely useless after all'. "If you think of books I should read, or pick up, let me know and I'll write them down when I wake up... that way I can pick them up there. Nothing illegal, though," he reminded the shade.
It was late, and Harry was eager to see how things would turn out. More specifically, he was eager to see the morning and see if Hogwarts or Gringotts would return his letter. So he bid Diaboli goodnight, and returned to a deep sleep, leaving the cottage of Godric's Hollow behind. The morning couldn't come fast enough.
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[[ Please enjoy! Sorry if it's short, had to set it up for the next chapter! ]]
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Carefully Tangled Webs of Darkness