Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The funeral was small.

There were only a handful of people present, mostly because the 'Will' of late man Borgin would be read soon after.

Among the few, tall, dark clad figures gather around the tomb, a small child clung close to his caregiver. The child had a mop of messy raven black hair that fell over his expressive green eyes and needed to get cut soon. The boy was dressed in dark, second hand robes that sported several patches already. Nobody paid him any attention, or the adult he was with.

Said adult did not look any better than the boy, in his own second hand robes. He looked paler than the boy, almost sickly. And the boy was used to that look from the man. Brendan Borgin, that was the man’s name and he looked nothing like the man in the marble tomb. Brendan was young, barely forty years old but his long hair was already a nice silver grey colour. His eyes, the boy’s favourite feature of the man, were warm amber, betraying the man’s unique condition, that of lycanthropy. He had been bitten by a werewolf some ten years before, something that for his pure-blooded family (even though the Borgin's did not hold as strict a view as other purebloods as they no longer had the wealth and power they once had) that was unforgivable. Brendan had been cast out of the family but never really disowned.

It was because of the beast-wolf inside him that Brendan took the boy in; he had seen the small child with the large green eyes and had claimed him on the spot.

That very day Harry James Potter learned what a family, a proper one, was supposed to be like. After meeting Brendan, little Harry woke for the first time in a bed and in a warm, caring embrace. Later he ate fresh food and drank fresh, warm milk, a luxury for the child. And when he got his own clothes, still second hand and patched. But ones that fitted him unlike Dudley’s cast-offs, the child had hugged his very own hero.

Harry had been four years old when the Dursley’s had left him out to freeze in the cold.
And now it was one year after Brendan had rescued him from freezing out in the cold. A difficult year. Brendan might have been kind enough to rescue the boy but he was a bitter man himself. Still he never lashed out at Harry and on nights when the child had nightmares he would allow the boy to seek him out and crawl under the covers with him. And on days closer to the full moon the werewolf avoided Harry as the man was edgy, abrupt and often mean, even though he always apologized to the boy he now thought of as his son. And Harry looked a lot like the child Brendan had lost the night he was turned, the very night his beloved wife and two year old son had died by the same beast that cursed him. Harry would hear of the story much later but it had touched him even more that Brendan had taken him in, especially since they were not related by blood.

The pair had stayed at Brendan’s small, cramped apartment in a dodgy part of Knockturn. Money was a problem and not easy to come by but little Harry had never been happier.

Then the owl came, with news of the funeral, and Harry was brought to this place, Brendan keeping a hand on his shoulder, renewing the warming charms on their clothes to keep away the freezing cold.

The other adults all looked similar to Brendan, except their sour looks and mean words to his hero. But Brendan ignored them all.

At the end of this morbid and warped family reunion Brendan walked away with a smirk and a hefty inheritance.

Chapter Text

Brendan meticulously fixed and straightened the purposely old, wooden board that held the name ‘Borgin & Burkes’, a finishing touch before the shop was open to public, again.

The dark shop had received a makeover, as did the three-bedroom flat above said shop, where Harry and Brendan now lived.

‘Borgin & Burkes’ was no longer dark or dreary. It had nooks and crannies but none of that nasty, evil feeling it used to have. Brendan had refused to let Harry even close to a place as dark and dangerous. So the space had opened up by placing all the dark and dangerous objects in large, glass made showcases. The front of the shop had been cleared and the walls were padded with new wood. Any stains were cleared from the floors and the dangerously darker objects were hidden from sight or placed far away from the reach of a child; Brendan was not taking any chances... The werewolf had even procured an elf with the right money to do most of the cleaning up and heavy jobs.

Harry was happy with his new home. Brendan had bought them new things and those that were used were in an almost pristine condition, much better than anything the boy ever had. And Brendan was there and not away, working many long hours for the barest of gold. They saw each other more. And Brendan, between managing his shop and raising the boy he had started teaching Harry how to read, write and count, aided by Kalli, their female house elf, seeing that Harry had protested against, ‘quite vocally’, going back to school. The young child did not have any good memories from primary school thanks to his cousin and he feared living that life again. Brendan had agreed immediately.

The five-year old was also allowed in the shop but he had been instructed to make himself scarce when and if certain individuals came to the shop, especially if those associates did not meet Brendan’s standards; he was not allowed to show himself even when Aurors came by. Additionally he had forbidden the child to wander around Knockturn Alley’s worst parts, fearing the company Harry might get or that the child, curious as he was, might wander inside a dark shop, like the one across the street with the shrunken heads or Old Lady Nahara’s (1) shop which sold poisonous candy.

Also they had taken several measures to prevent Harry from being found; Knockturn Alley was hardly the proper place for the Boy-Who-Lived to grow up in. It appeared that old man Borgin had some very interesting objects in his shop and Brendan fully took advantage of that. All Harry had to do was wear a certain thin, platinum bracelet with a vine like pattern on it on his left wrist. The trinket had a small version of the ‘Fidelius’ cast on it to help hide things. The previous owner had used it to hide the fact that he only had one eye. Thankfully the thing worked for the curse scar from the Killing curse, leaving Harry looking his usual self only sans the infamous lighting bolt scar.

And Harry listened to Brendan and he grew, getting stronger. And with Kalli he filled out like any child his age.

Times were good for the odd family.

Six months later…

Harry loved his ‘playground’, as he often called his new home and Brendan’s shop. After carefully watching Brendan do business he had wanted to help. And Brendan, seeing the determination in those emerald pools gave in. He let Harry around the shelves he could reach. And now that Harry could count he let the boy do some of the sums for him but only in front of his ‘lighter’ clients. Soon Harry learned to copy Brendan perfectly, even the way the man carried himself, and other shop owners from Knockturn’s shops referred to him as the ‘Little Owner’ jokingly, but Brendan would truly praise him, making Harry’s confidence soar. 

Another year afterwards…

When Harry turned seven years old he met with Antonio, a bookstore owner right next to Brendan’s shop.

Antonio was a dark wizard, not that Harry as a child had met any other kind, but he had never followed the Dark Lord the young boy had heard whispers about; when adults forgot he was there. The bookstore owner was a well aged man, with greying hair among his short, dark, rich curls. He was also pale and liked to keep clean even though his store was usually a mess.

Harry started spending time at his shop or even in his home above the bookstore near the full moon or when Brendan was being nursed by Kalli after that night.

That was how the young boy was introduced to knowledge of all kinds and fell in love with books. Thus making Antonio his very first friend.

 “Say bambino,” Antonio’s lyrical voice brought the seven year old out of his concentration.

Harry lifted his messy head from a thick tome he was reading about curses. “Yes?”

“You’re what? Six?”

“Seven,” Harry corrected with an impressive scowl.

Antonio waved a hand in dismissal. “Still a baby. But tell me, have you done it yet?”

The younger wizard frowned. “It?”

Antonio sighed and took a drag from his cigarette. He loved those sticks and Harry could swear that he had never seen Antonio without them.

“Magic,” the older wizard clarified. “Have you had any incidents?”

“Ah, you mean accidental magic,” Harry told him. “Not the other ‘it’ Brendan’s girlfriend and those girls at Madame Esme’s place giggle about?”

Antonio laughed uproariously. “No, not that one. And I’m not laughing at you bambino,” he added to make Harry’s frown go away. “Now answer the question. Please.”

The boy shrugged. He had done some but it was mostly before Brendan. “I turned someone’s hair blue,” he admitted. “And made things fly. But Brendan says I’m not spose to…”

“Supposed,” Antonio absently corrected.

“…show my talents,” Harry continued undeterred.

“So I guess you will be going to this Hogwarts School you English people go?”

Harry shrugged. “I’m seven. We won’t know for another four years.”

“Of course. Now what exactly are you reading there? Oh, my! Where did you get this one? Don’t tell Brendan!”

And yet another year later…

Harry was behind the counter, side by side with Kalli. Both of them were putting labels on several objects with Kalli merely observing the young boy and only helping when the occasion called for it. Brendan had left early this morning for Gringotts so the eight year old was alone in the shop when the door opened and a customer came in. Harry dropped his task and turned around, fixing his black robe. “Good evening, sir. How can I help?”

The man, a handsome wizard with long blond hair, garbed with well made robes and a snake cane in his hands, sneered at the child.

“Where’s Borgin? I need him for some urgent business.”

Harry blinked. Mostly people called Brendan by his name and not his surname. So this meant that this man had known the previous owner and had not been by for years. And certainly did not appreciate being sneered at.

“Unless you’re a necromancer you’ll have me to settle for,” Harry boldly told the man.

“Is this a joke?” the man hissed.

Harry glared right back. “Of course not. Old man Borgin is dead for three years now. Brendan is the new owner.”

“I see. And where is he now?”

“At Gringotts. But I can help,” Harry told the man.

The distrust was obvious in the man’s posture. “And what do you know about enchanted metals?”

Harry actually beamed. “What kind? We don’t deal with silver but we have some gold and I think a copper object… What exactly are you after mister…?”

The man smirked. “Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy.”

Harry recognized the name and the importance it held but otherwise remained calm and nodded at the rich wizard. “My name’s Harry.”

“Well…Harry, I need a set of gold knives, the standard charms in place. I was told they better be soaked in unicorn blood.”

Harry nodded. The man could probably go to Diagon Alley for knives but only this shop dealt with objects soaked in unicorn blood, or any other kind. The child turned to Kalli. The house elf seemed to know what was needed.

“Mister is wanting second, the second shelf behind the sparkly glass,” Kalli told Harry, who nodded. The house elf knew where everything was in this place but Brendan had put up wards that prevented house elves from touching the objects, a precaution as the man had called it. That left only him and Brendan to touch the merchandise.

“I know where that is,” Harry told Kalli. “Wait a moment sir. Or you can browse.”

Lucius did not even reply as Harry went off to get the object in question. When he was back he found the aristocrat looking at some opal necklace on display.

“That’s cursed,” Harry informed the man. “Any Muggle wearing it has died. It is said to be soaked in centaur’s blood.”

“Is it?” Lucius murmured. He turned his grey eyes to the boy. “This place has been cleaned up. Borgin was never one for order or for hygiene.”

Harry grimaced, cute childish expression appearing on his face like it belonged there, the first childish sign Lucius had seen on the boy.

“The knives?” Lucius asked.

“Oh! Right! Here you go!” Harry placed the case on a counter and carefully opened it.

It brought a smile to Lucius’ face. “Perfect.”

Later that day Brendan heard all about Harry’s sale from the excited eight year old.

“Lucius Malfoy you say?” Brendan sounded troubled. “As long as he doesn’t want me to buy anything he wants. My old man might have been a coward but I’m not.”

Harry then grew worried. “Did I cause trouble?”

Brendan ruffled his hair, much to the child’s indignation. “You did not squirt. Now go pester Antonio. And tell him he’s invited for dinner tonight.”

Harry beamed and he was off to find the Italian.

A few days later found Harry, accompanied with Brendan and Antonio to a shop in Knockturn the eight year old had never been in.

“Why are we here?” Harry asked as he looked around the shop. It was dark. It smelled like mould. And it was a tidy, ordered mess.

“Old man Ziyi is a wand maker,” Antonio told Harry.

The child’s eyes widened and he turned around so fast he made the older wizards dizzy.

“You really mean that?” Harry asked Brendan.

The werewolf smirked. “Do I ever joke like that?”

Harry blushed and shook his head. “I’m getting a wand,” he whispered then, his voice showing his awe.

“You are getting a wand,” Brendan confirmed.

Harry let out a laugh and hugged Brendan’s waist; that was as far as he could reach.

“Hey! Bambino! No hug for me?” Antonio whined from behind the hugging pair. Harry shook his head and hugged Brendan tighter.

The family moment was broken when someone cleared his throat. Harry released his guardian and turned around. A very young, very handsome Asian man was behind the counter. He had raven black hair, long and carefully braided and luminous grey eyes stared right into his emerald green.

“How may I help?” the youth asked.

“Ziyi,” Brendan nodded and pushed Harry slightly forward. “Harry here needs a wand.”

“He looks too small.”

“He’s eight,” Antonio replied while Brendan merely tightened his grip on Harry’s shoulder to prevent him from speaking.

“And can’t you wait till he reaches his eleventh year?” the man asked but his eyes were still pinned on Harry.

“He needs a wand,” Brendan simply said. “If you have a match for him then all’s well. If not he can always try Ollivander’s in three years.”

Ziyi nodded. “Come now child. Extend your arm, either right or left, matters not.”

Harry swallowed and complied.

The man who did not look old at all was quiet but his eyes had taken an odd, luminous quality that made Harry want to shiver.

“Mahogany, yew or holly,” Ziyi said then. “The core will be tricky… perhaps a combination, yes, that could work,” the man muttered. He turned around and returned with a total of twenty boxes. “I have no idea if you have been to Ollivander’s wand shop,” he said for Harry’s benefit mostly, “But my wands are not for the normal witches or wizards. In fact most of them would never match even by chance my pieces. I do not cater for the masses, child.”

Harry nodded determinedly, feeling the importance of this.

“Good, take this. Yew, fifteen inches, mahogany handle and blood from an adult Thestral. Just touch it, not swishing or anything, I like my shop intact.”

Harry acted accordingly and the wand was taken from him, as were the next five. The child was at a loss. While Brendan had not been wrong with him before he began to wonder that perhaps it would be another three years before he would try Ollivander’s but on his next try it happened.

“Yew enclosing the holly wood and a core of the magical silver mamba venom and a few drops of its blood, seventeen inches,” Ziyi handing Harry a reddish black wand.

The moment Harry touched it he felt a warm shiver, if there was such a thing, down his spine and a tingle starting at his fingers and reaching into his heart.

“Congratulations,” Ziyi said wryly.

“He found a match?” Brendan asked for confirmation.

The wand maker nodded. “Take good care of that wand. Magical snakes are temperamental. This particular combination of woods is good for spells and rituals but the venom, and blood, well, that has a variety of uses, runes for example. I suggest you study about each of the ingredients,” he told Harry who nodded.

The adults headed for the counter.

“Twenty galleons,” Ziyi told Brendan. “With the standard insurance for life. Also without pesky ministry tracking charms.”

Brendan nodded and paid.

When they were outside, even in the dim sunlight that barely reached Knockturn all three of them felt better, happier.

“What was that?” Harry asked. “I had not even realized I was not comfortable and…” he trailed off, unsure of how he was to describe the feeling of elation he now had, and he was betting it was not because of his wand.

“Ziyi is part Vampire,” Antonio informed Harry.

“And the other part?” the eight year old inquired.

Brendan smirked. “Incubus.”

Harry blinked. “Part demon?” He then smiled. “Wicked! So that’s why he looked so young!”

“Yes,” Brendan confirmed. “He’s been around a long time.”

“What about the Ministry though? Wouldn’t the Aurors bother him?” Harry wondered.

“Not really,” Antonio chuckled. “Turn around Harry. What do you see?”

Harry did as Antonio asked. The door was gone and the shop as well, like it was never there.

“The shop is magical,” Brendan explained to Harry. “It appears where and when it is needed. We, Antonio and I that is, saw it earlier this week. Ziyi asked for you, so we brought you there. Not all his feelings come through.”

Harry studied them. “Are your wands…?”

“Mine is,” Antonio admitted. “Mahogany and apple tree with Sphinx blood. My brother tested for one but he got no match.”

“Mine’s from Gregorovitch,” Brendan told Harry. “Willow and werewolf blood. It was ironic. And prophetic. Now don’t worry about it. Especially since this crazy Italian will be treating us to lunch.”

“No I’m not,” Antonio said.

Harry turned pleading eyes on the man and the wizard easily caved into him, making Brendan laugh. “Thank Maab I’m immune to that look.”

Antonio scowled at him but Harry was happily skipping ahead of them.

End of chapter

Chapter Text

Harry was used to waking up early and going to bed late. He was also used to living without much sunlight. Knockturn was a place that shadows were gathered at all times. when he was first introduced to the alley he had been scared of the dark nooks that were all over the neighbourhood, the lack of natural light and the fact that most people got there too early in the morning or late in the evening to conduct their business.

The eight year old child stood, his internal clock not letting him stay in bed any longer. The room was quiet; a grey light showing it was day. Green eyes peered around. Harry had not done much with the place. It was a small room but Harry loved it because it was his. Ever since he had first moved in with Brendan he had the same bed and mattress. But he had roped his guardian and Antonio into helping and now the bed was elevated and placed beside the small and only window so that Harry could watch the stars during the night. Under the bed a place had been formed, much like a personal library. Wooden bookcases filled with books and parchments had their place there. There was also a wardrobe, where books and clothes shared space and a desk that was neat and tidy but also clustered with various old tomes. There was only one picture in the room, a framed photo of Harry along with his makeshift family. Brendan had his arm around Harry and smiled at the camera. Antonio was pouting at something, Harry could hardly remember what.

Then there was Aina, the beautiful mocha skinned woman that worked at a brothel down the road. Her rich curls and bright smile and amber eyes were contrasting with the woman next to her, Fiona, another of the girls that worked at Madam Zahra's place. Fiona had red hair, like blood, brown eyes and pale skin and a mouth that could make people blush, or run in terror. The two women liked Harry and would often baby-sit when Brendan or Antonio were not available and Kalli was busy. They had also taken it upon themselves to teach Harry manners and how to properly groom himself and how to haggle and bargain when shopping.

Next to Fiona stood Camden. The man was not particularly tall, but he was very handsome, with short spiked blond hair, deep green eyes and a wicked grin. He was a Vampire too, and his animosity with Brendan was legendary. The two males could hardly spend half an hour in a place and not try to kill each other even verbally. But still Brendan allowed Camden around as the male Vampire was nice with Harry. Antonio had brought him into the makeshift rag tag group when Harry expressed an interest in learning new languages and who better to do that but a four centuries old Camden?

Another face that stood out was Reid, Camden's Childe. Reid was a child of eleven years of age that had been turned into a Vampire by a member of Camden's old Coven. When Camden learned about Reid he had been furious. He had killed the kid's Sire and took Reid under his wing and later into his bed. Reid was the only child Harry knew and related to, even if Reid was not truly a child anymore as he approached two centuries now. Reid acted like he was a child, not to fool Harry, but because he genuinely felt like he could trust the eight year old. Brendan tolerated Reid more than Camden and he even allowed the child-Vampire to sleep over whenever he wanted.

But all these people were Harry's immediate family now and the green eyed wizard loved them as much as they loved him. With one last look at the picture, Harry walked to the bathroom.

It was quiet in Harry's home that morning. The boy finished with his morning preparations and started cooking breakfast for one soon after that. It had been a Full Moon the night before and Harry knew that Brendan would not be up and about that morning. So he made breakfast for one and then left the house to open the shop bellow. Kalli was also not there. The House elf was in charge of keeping an eye and ear on Brendan as the man locked himself in the cellar when he turned into a wolf and Kalli acted as guard in case the ward that kept Brendan secure failed. But Harry did not mind opening the shop now. He knew how to lock and unlock the place with his magic (not a quick Alohomora either but a series of locking spells that Camden had placed around the doors and windows).

Harry entered the shop and starting turning on the lights. He had swept the night before and had dusted too so there was not much he needed to do that morning except wait for the customers to come. So he took out his book (Fashions of the Middle Ages: Spells and Curses and Potions, Vol II), and his morning cup of tea and set out to wait.

Antonio was his first visitor, not client. He had come around to see how Brendan was doing.

"Kalli left a note in the kitchen for me,'' Harry told him.”He had a very rough night. Kalli patched him up and everything but he was exhausted. And he lost a lot of blood too."

Antonio ruffled Harry’s hair and the kid let him.

"He's a warrior that one," Antonio told Harry.

"I’m not worried," Harry replied.

Antonio rolled his eyes when Harry was not looking. But he did not actively refute the child's claim. "Will you be alright?" he asked.

Harry lifted his book. "Yup. Also, Reid is coming after five so...";"Still..."

"And Aina is coming over. Fiona promised me pot roast today. And Aina is bringing over one of the new girls," Harry added.

Antonio nodded. He knew that the women would stick around as they usually worked at night and Harry would not be completely alone.

"If you need anything yell," Antonio told him. There were few dangers in leaving Harry alone in the shop even in Knockturn. Now that the boy was well known by the crowds that travelled these streets. There was also the added protection of having a Vampire acting as protection.

"Of course!" Harry chirped before waving Antonio off and focusing back on his book.

 

The girls did come around, one bringing a pot along and a box with what Harry new to be Madam Nahara's treats (poison free of course).

"Harry!" Fiona barked. "Plates!"

The child closed the book and as soon as the girls came in he herded them towards the back where a table and chairs were waiting to be used

"This is Dalia," Aina nudged the young woman that came along with her. She was blonde, with pale blues eyes and a small nose. She was young too, Harry realised.

"Hello," Dalia greeted timidly.

Harry frowned. "How old are you?"

Dalia flinched.

"She's sixteen," Fiona answered for the girl. "She's not yet available to the customers though. Dalia here came from Fang's Tip."

Harry shuddered. That was a brothel that catered to Vampires only. And because willing personnel were not forthcoming, most of the boys and girls working there had been bought from slave markets outside the country. Camden had spoken about that place. Reid had even admitted they had gone there a few times, but Reid himself had never bought the services of anyone there. Then he had made Harry promise not to wander that deep into Knockturn just in case.

"Dalia, stop being afraid of the brat," Fiona added. "He doesn't bite and I’m starting to believe he doesn't particularly like girls either."

"I did not ogle John!" Harry exclaimed.

"The squib boy that runs errands for Eilopp's" Aina asked.

"That one," Fiona agreed.

"Meddlesome hags," Harry muttered sullenly but without any real heat in his voice.

"Who are the hags dwarf?"

"I'm eight!"

"And I'm only twenty five!" Fiona yelled back.

Aina nudged Dalia further into the room.

"Harry's a good kid," she told the girl. "Smart one too. As long as you don't touch the shelves here you'll be fine. Brendan, the owner, is a regular down the shop. He usually goes to Fiona and Stella; you have not met her yet. He's a werewolf, just so you know, and Harry's friends with Vampires."

Dalia flinched.

"They won't be bothering you though," Aina continued. "They like the kid too much to frighten him."

"The boy," Dalia muttered.

"Harry," Aina reminded her.

"Him. He... doesn't he care?"

"That we are prostitutes?"

Dalia nodded.

"He knows," Aina told her. "Brendan explained it to him, sex that is, just so he could know and spot the paedophiles and run. He knows what we do, doesn’t fear or hate us, but instead worries and cares."

"He's not... dark?"

Aina shrugged. "He's no light either. He has brains though, and knows how to use them. Now come on. If we're late Fiona is capable of eating our shares," she said as she tagged Dalia along.

Lunch was interesting that day for Harry. Fiona was talkative and asked plenty of questions while Aina kept quiet for the most part and Dalia just ate slowly.

"So Kalli is watching over him?" Fiona asked.

Harry nodded. "This full moon was even worse than the last. I am really afraid for him."

"He'll be fine," Fiona said in a bit softer voice but soon shook it off. "So, how was your day?"

"Quiet," Harry admitted. "I had one customer. He paid in coin and did not give me any trouble. I am expecting more will come tonight. Reid said a coven is in town for a few days."

"The Valerius Clan," Aina piped in. "We are staying open all night too. The whole of Knockturn really. We are also going to try and calm the Aurors. Old man Peg said he heard from Dung that Aurors will be patrolling tonight."

Harry frowned. "As long as it's not Scrimgeour I don't care. That guy is so righteous... a right snob."

"Harry? I thought you got along with authority," Fiona teased.

"I do, I just hate prats," Harry muttered.

"Is that a pout?" Fiona squinted her eyes.

"No! I'm not pouting!" the kid protested.

"Aw! You are so going to break hearts!" Aina and Fiona both cooed together.

Harry turned pleading eyes towards Dalia.

"Save me from them?" he pleaded.

The girl's lips twitched.

"Harry!" Aina exclaimed.

 The eight year old smiled.

 

Much later, after the girls were gone, Kalli came. She looked tired. The house elf ordered Harry to take a nap and not to be up before five. The full moon was the night before but the moon was still full so Brendan would have one more transformation to go through and Harry would have to keep the store. Harry did not protest Kalli's orders and closed down the shop. He woke much later to a soft caress down his cheek.

"Harry?"

Green eyes slowly opened. The view was foggy at first.

"Harry? Come on!"

"Mmm? Reid?"

"Yes! Come on!"

Harry rubbed his eyes and focused on the blue haired, lavender eyed kid that wore velvet pants and vest and had made himself comfortable on Harry’s bed.

"Reid," Harry mumbled again. "Hey."

"Hey back. I've made tea and I brought cookies!"

"Still taking those culinary classes?" Harry asked as he sat up in bed.

"Yup!" Reid cheerfully replied.

He tugged on Harry's arm and the eight year old groaned.

"Fine! I'm up!"

"And hit the shower, hm?" Reid added. "Your customers are going to have a very keen sense of smell."

Harry shot Reid a glare.

The child-Vampire raised his hands. "Sorry, but if I smell you..."

"The cookies better be fantastic," Harry warned.

Reid grinned, his fangs showing.

A decidedly cleaner, better smelling, fed and happy Harry followed by his best friend, entered the store that evening.

"Oh you were reading again?" Reid asked as he made himself comfortable on the counter.

"Yes," Harry replied.

"I know this one! Fashions of the Middle Ages: Spells and Curses and Potions, Vol II, huh? It's been years since I last read that. You devil, only ten pages left?"

Harry smiled. "Yes. It was a dry book but the spells were very interesting."

"Tried any of them?" Reid asked.

"You bet I did! I used the Branding Spell to brand the envelopes and packages we use to wrap things. Cheaper than having the shop's logo painted on them."

"Why Mister Shop Owner! How practical of you!"

"Ease up on the sarcasm," Harry told his friend. "I cannot use the other spells easily. With so many magical artefacts in here..." he trailed off as he eyed the glass cases all a round.

Reid winced. "Point to you. How soon can you come over to my place then? You promised we could duel again."

"As soon as Brendan is up," Harry promised.

"I'll hold you to that," Reid warned his friend and hopped off the counter.

"How long are you staying for?"

"All night," Reid replied. "Camden is worried. London is crawling with Vampires tonight, and their vassals."

"How big is the Coven?"

"The Valerius Clan?" Reid pondered over that. "I think about ninety Vampires that are part of Coven. Add all the sheep and helpers and stuff.... we are talking two hundred people."

Harry winced.

"That's why Camden is worried," Reid told Harry. "For both of us. I was ordered not to step out of this place. I'm bunking with you tonight. Will that be a problem?"

"Don’t be ridiculous," Harry shot at him. "You are always welcome."

Reid beamed at him.

 

Just like the people at Knockturn had predicted the alley was busy that night. People dressed in expensive clothes were strolling up and down Knockturn Alley and some parts of Diagon. Harry was busy. People came in an out of the store browsing the artefacts and lingering in front of various shops. Antonio, from what Reid reported, was rather busy as well.

"Is that a Hand of Glory?" a man with strawberry blond hair and teal eyes asked Harry.

"Ah! Yes," Harry replied.

The man studied the price and muttered to himself.

"Is this a Lespar Crystal?" a brunette asked from another aisle.

"No, a Lescor, from 1600's," Harry responded. "It is not tuned so if you want it we can either do it for you or you can do it yourself," Harry told her. "We can have it blood bonded to you easily. The process does not cost extra."

"Hm," the woman hummed as she continued studying the artefact.

Reid kept an eye on the customers as Harry moved deeper into the shop and towards a girl that looked about his age, with brown-blond hair and fangs peeking from her lips.

"Is this display where the divination stones are?" she asked Harry.

"Ah! Divinations stones, no, come along; it’s the aisle behind this one, the second shelf. Please do not open the glass case. If you truly find anything interesting call for me."

"Okay!" the girl told him cheerfully.

"Young man?" the woman from before called out and Harry rushed to her side.

"Ma'am," Harry came to her.

"I want the crystal here."

Harry smiled. "Do you want it bonded to you?"

"I can do it myself. Do you also have blood quills?"

"I'm afraid not; that would be illegal," Harry told her. "I have however some other nice, ritualistic quills this way." Still, Harry knew that Brendan had stocked quite a number of Blood Quills. The werewolf had warned Harry to never admit having Ministry banned items just in case the person asking was Ministry personnel.

The woman smirked and Harry knew she had caught his meaning and she followed after Harry.

"Do you want a simple one, from wood, a metal quill, an ornate one?" he asked the woman.

"Anything from Ivory?"

"A very fine selection," Harry assured her and took out a case for her to browse.

"Oh! They are beautiful!"

The woman who Harry bet was a Vampiress, cooed over the quills. Harry left her to it and walked towards the man.

"I'm taking the Hand of Glory," he informed Harry. "You do packages?"

Harry beamed. "Of course."

The green eyed wizard headed for the counter, carrying the artefact in question. Harry packaged the hand carefully and the guy paid Harry in cash, giving the teen a small pile of gold coins which Harry then pushed towards the small pouch the Goblins had issued for the shop. Better than a safe really, as only Harry or Brendan could take money from it and should the pouch get stolen the owners were safe, as well as their money.

The brunette bought the Crystal and two ivory made Blood Quills, paying in cash as well.

The girl-Vampire bought a divination crystal in a dark colour ("For the deep vibrations" she had claimed) and happily skipped out of the store.

"Vampires?" Harry asked.

"Only the females," Reid replied. "The man was a wizard. I've never seen this place so busy."

Harry was about to answer when three more people arrived. Among them a very familiar face.

"Mister Malfoy," Harry smiled at the blond wizard.

"Harry," the aristocrat greeted the kid. "A few acquaintances of mine are interested in Canopic jars (1)."

Inwardly Harry thought that a rather morbid item but Brendan had no such qualms.

"Used or new?" Harry asked. "We have a selection of jars from Egypt. Are you interested in Imset, Duamutef, Qebehsenuf or Ha'py?"

"Liver," a dark haired man with greasy strands said from Lucius' side.

"Imset it is," Harry sighed. "Reid!"

The child-Vampire came to his side.

"Keep an eye on things," Harry told his blue haired friend. Then he turned to Lucius and his company. "I'll go get the case."

"We can browse," Lucius assured the kid. "Shall we Severus?"

The Potions Master was already studying a display with vials. The third man was more like Lucius. Tall, long dark hair caught in a braid. Pale skin and luminous eyes, one red and one violet. Reid could not help but look at the man with the mismatched eyes. The child-Vampire could tell that man was not human, not a Vampire either or any other creature Reid had come across in his life. And for that reason he feared the man.

Harry returned ten minutes later, a crate hovering above the ground and following behind him. Severus was the first one who noticed the kid deliberately using magic and paused. Lucius was second and unlike his potion master friend, he was not surprised by this. During the time he had been coming to the shop the kid that handled the counter always did magic with or without a wand. Lucius recalled the boy lighting up candles with a breath, locking and unlocking cases with his wand, stirring his tea with a wave of a finger. They were little things that when pulled together created an impressive image about the boy. The man with the mismatched eyes was the last to pay attention and when he did, his eyes stayed on the eight year old.

"Here it is, one Imset Jar," Harry declared. He lifted his wand and with a muttered spell the crate sat on the counter. An unlocking spell later and the crate was open and Lucius and Severus could peer inside.

"It's in good condition," the greasy haired man commented.

"Thank you! We try to keep it properly stored but one can never know," Harry chirped. "Are you taking it? It comes with the crate and all the preservation charms inside."

"I am," the Potions Master decided.

"I on the other hand am curious about the books I saw in the back," the man with the mismatched eyes commented.

Harry perked. "Really? The selection is substantial but I'm afraid not big enough. Anything we don't have we can acquire though so if we do not have something you want do not hesitate telling me," he told the man.

"I think I saw the Necronomicon Juliani back there," the same man continued.

"It is," Harry confirmed. "Not the original of course, but a copy of the translated text made by Paden Carson the Second back in 1673. I am told it is rather accurate, well, if you exclude page 356..."

"Harry," Reid cut in. "You are rambling."

The green eyed wizard blushed. "I apologise," he muttered but the man with the mismatched eyes seemed amused.

"That is quite alright. I am interested in taking it and thank you for the heads up on page 356."

"Right!" Harry replied and went to fetch the book.

Lucius left a letter for Brendan as he and his company left the shop. They were not the last customers, not by a long shot. The shop kept getting visitors until late into the night and Harry had to close the shop at two after midnight as he could no longer keep his eyes open. Reid helped close the shop and afterwards nearly dragged a dozing Harry to bed before joining the kid and curling around him.

 

Chapter Text

Harry was humming as he and Kalli swept and dusted the shop. Brendan was up and about. He still looked worn out but that was also because the man had caught a cold on top of everything. Antonio had already brought over a batch of Pepper Up for Brendan and Harry had been forced to drink some of the potion too, just in case.

“Harry?”

The eight year old boy turned to Brendan.

“Hm?” he asked.

“Camden came by after you went to bed last night,” the werewolf stated.

“I did not see blood and carnage,” Harry replied.

Brendan cuffed him gently on the head. “No smart assed comments brat.”

Harry rubbed his head.

“He said that I ought to start taking your education more seriously,” Brendan commented.

The child blinked. “But… you are! You and Antonio taught me lots of things! And you get me books I can learn from!”

“Yes, but the way you are taught things is erratic at best,” Brendan told Harry. “You know a lot of theory in advanced subjects but hardly know the basics.”

“I know my Transfiguration and Charms,” Harry protested. “And spells and curses! And I am more advanced in Runes and Arithmancy than other kids my age. Reid and Camden told me so.”

“And they are right,” Brendan conceded. “But you also need knowledge of Potions and simpler spells, not just the stuff you learn in Knockturn.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “You mean just not the advanced spells the Ministry idiots banned because they were jealous about the power it takes to cast them? Because Antonio refused to teach me any dark spells. Said I’m too young. I think he won’t because my core is still growing and I must not exhaust myself.”

Inwardly Brendan sent a prayer to the deities for this. Many in Knockturn had a skewed logic of what dark magic was but Antonio was more in touch with his brains than most wizard folk. The werewolf knew that Harry was special. Not because he was the Boy-Who-Lived, but because he held the boy close to his heart. Harry was his son; Brendan would never let anyone tell him or the boy otherwise. The kid did not call him ‘dad’ because Brendan had asked him not to and in return he did not call Harry ‘son’, but that did not mean they were not family.

Brendan knew that at some point Harry the Knockturn brat would have to hide away and make way for the Boy-Who-Lived. For that to happen the child would have to be Light, but after growing around Dark Creatures and questionable characters Harry, despite being innocent and pure, was not Light. The spells he learned to cast were borderline dark, spells the Ministry would have liked to ban. If Harry hoped to integrate with he would have to be able to cast a Lumos just as well as he cast the darker variant of that spell. And they would find him, Brendan knew. Hogwarts had a way of tracking down students. For a while he had entertained the possibility of not letting Harry attend the school, but he would have never forgiven himself if he did go through with this. He was a firm believer of education and he would never do that to Harry, even though the kid, unlike other kids his age, did not seem all that eager to leave Knockturn and get hauled up to a castle in Scotland. Camden had spoken about Harry’s attachment to the people of Knockturn; the boy would never turn his back on them after growing among them, something the rest of the magical community would not take in a good way.

“Brendan?”

Harry’s voice made the werewolf blink. He also noticed then that Kalli had made herself scarce; that elf was wise like that.

“You have a plan in your mind, I can tell,” Harry told him. “But I don’t agree.”

“Harry…”

“I spoke to Reid…”

Brendan wanted to bang his head somewhere. Harry’s friendship with the little bloodsucker was both a blessing and a curse. While it enabled Harry to have some childish influence in his life where he was surrounded by adults, Reid was not truly a child, just stuck in the body of one. Reid was a Vampire and a mischief maker. Brendan knew that the little leech cared for Harry deeply still some of that Vampire’s ideas were giving him grey hair. Still, he was better company than some of the urchins that lurked in Knockturn, too lazy to find an honest job. That knowledge alone helped him sleep at nights. It was small, but a consolation none the less.

“What now?” he asked, sounding a little bit resigned.

The eight year old giggled at this and Brendan rolled his eyes.

“Reid told me about Arcana,” Harry finally told his father figure. And it was a big deal.

Brendan shuddered. “That’s an Institution that only accepts Vampires and other Dark Creatures.” It was pretty exclusive too. There were plenty of Vampires out there, plenty of Werewolves and other creatures but only a small minority of them went to school and usually that meant Arcana Institute. It was not the expense that made it difficult for creatures to go there but the fact that even though it was not a boarding school, such a large congregation of creatures, most of them dominant and aggressive, was trouble at the best of times. Should two Alphas from different packs meet, it was bound to cause a fight between them. Vampires were no better either. Arcana had a reason it was not a boarding school; most of its students could not get along for a few hours, much less a year. Still, it was a good school, not Ministry run either.

“But it’s a magical Academy,” Harry countered. “Not a boarding school either, so it’s much cheaper. It only takes Floo to get there, only six hours a day. They have no restriction as to the ages of the students either.”

Brendan sighed. So Reid had explained the particulars of the institute. He knew he was going to have a small battle on his hands and by the way Harry looked so determined, he was going to lose. Still, he was not going down without a fight. “You…”

“…I thought about it from monetary aspect and it is …”

“Harry!”

The eight year old shut up.

Brendan sighed. “I thought you wanted to go to Hogwarts.”

The kid faltered a bit. Then Harry folded his arms in front of him. “I’m not the Boy-Who-Lived,” he announced with conviction.

“Harry, you know you are.”

“No! I’m not! I’ve seen the publications, the various articles. That kid is not me. You told me how you found me. I was not loved, not cherished, just dumped. They hail Harry Potter as their Saviour but no one cares if he gets to eat, drink, has a warm place to sleep. No one came when I was crying from pain.”

“I thought you did not remember,” Brendan closed his eyes, feeling a headache building from this talk; as if the flu was not bad enough.

“I don’t recall much,” Harry conceded. “Just enough.”

“Harry…”

“I’m not the Boy-Who-Lived. I grew up in Knockturn. I’ll never fit into a school with kids and Ministry approved spells and restrictions,” Harry stubbornly stated. “I want to try Arcana. If they don’t accept me, no big deal. If they do… In Hogwarts I will be in a glass jar, under everyone’s scrutiny and whims. That’s why I don’t want to go there. I know I would hate it even though I love the descriptions of the castle and the grounds… Please? I want to learn! I love learning! But Hogwarts… If I had never met you, if I had grown up in that place, perhaps I would have loved the castle. Arcana is the place for me. I might not fit in there either, but I will fit better than I would in Hogwarts. I do not want to work in the Ministry or some easy desk job so I do not think Hogwarts is the best school for me to go to. Please Brendan? I thought about it. I won’t regret not going to Hogwarts, I won’t.”

Brendan sighed. “You are too mature for my tastes some times.”

It was all the approval the eight year old needed.

Harry smiled and hugged the man’s waist. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

“I know I’ll regret this,” the werewolf muttered half heartedly but inside he was proud of the boy he had raised.

They were all gathered in Camden’s house. Brendan, Antonio, Reid and Harry were all sprawled on sofas and armchairs waiting for the Vampire to return. Harry was particularly jittery.

The shadows thickened and Camden stepped forward, only to be tackled by Reid and Harry. The two kids were like puppies.

“So?” Reid asked.

“So?” Harry asked after him.

Camden waved a cream coloured envelope in front of their faces.

Harry snatched the paper and after a brief look at the wax seal (a sword and a rose crossing each other and a castle behind them in red and black colours) he tore it open. His eyes scanned the letter with growing glee.

“I’m in!” he crowed with delight.

“He is,” Camden confirmed to Brendan and Antonio. “He was tested on second level in most classes and independent in Runes.”

“That’s impressive,” Antonio admitted. “So he really is going?” he asked Brendan. “How about tuition?”

“I have money,” the werewolf muttered. “I just don’t want to stop staying in Knockturn. I prefer to splurge on other things, like clothes.”

“Or books for me,” Harry chirped as he came and hugged his father figure again.

“Exactly,” Brendan agreed. He drew Harry into a hug and ruffled the kid’s hair before accepting the letter from the green eyed child. “Congratulations,” he told Harry, who beamed. His eyes then scanned the list of equipment and books the eight year old would need. He could get most of them in Knockturn.

“We need to celebrate,” Antonio decided. “And we better tell the girls too or they’ll be angry.”

“Tomorrow,” Camden told him. “Tonight it’s just us men and boys.”

“We are going out?” Harry asked. “Where?”

“How about Chinatown?” Reid asked and Harry’s eyes lit up.

“We are going to eat first, right?” Antonio asked and the Vampires nodded.

“Let’s go!” Harry yelled and dashed for the door. “Noodles or duck? Yuan is best for noodles but I kind of miss Madam Lee.”

“Madam Lee it is,” Camden told him.

Harry grinned wide.

Finding all the books and materials for his school was not difficult to do if you knew where to look. Harry did not have to step foot outside of Knockturn Alley to do his shopping. He got the two pewter cauldrons he needed, all the materials from the list, all the books for his first year, most of which he had already read and knew quite well, his telescope and he already had his wand. He had no need for a uniform there so he was dressed in dark grey pants with a shirt and a casual robe over them and his most comfortable boots. He had also strapped a knife onto his waist, just in case. He was ready when at September first it was time to Floo to school. Brendan was more anxious about this than Harry and it showed.

“… and if any of the leeches give you a hard time…”

“Brendan!” Harry half whined. “I know! I get it. Will you please stop worrying?”

The werewolf sighed. “It is not an easy thing to ask. In Arcana you are literally on the bottom of the food chain; that place is crawling with predators.”

Harry grinned a toothy smile. “I’m not that easy a target.”

“Just be careful.”