lomonaaeren

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Chapter Four—Blood and Crystal

My apologies. My plans have changed, and I am unable to see to your tutoring today.

That was all the note from Gaunt said. Harry turned it around for a moment, frowning, then shook his head and put it down. He could survive one day on his own without Gaunt tutoring him, he had to admit.

And besides…

Snape was out of the house, something to do with a lecture he was giving on experimental potions at the Ministry. Mother was at work. Jennifer and Rosanna, of course, were at Hogwarts until the start of the summer holiday.

Harry took a deep breath, tucked away the letter in his robes, and turned to walk down the corridor towards his mother’s office, his magic humming in his veins. His hand turned his wand over and over.

Now was the perfect time to try a spell he had perfected at Pelargonium, one that could split the sort of instinctive wards a panicking unicorn mare would put up around herself when giving birth for the first time. The last time Harry had used it, he had been just in time to stop the foal from dying because the umbilical cord had been twisted around its neck.

This time…

This time, Harry thought he might be able to use it get through the wards his mother had put up.

He came to a halt outside the door of her office and contemplated the wards for a long moment. They showed as lazy flickers of golden and silver light, sliding over the surface of the door. The lock was a sturdy thing, shaped like a roaring lioness’s head.

Harry closed his eyes. He channeled his magic into the center of his chest, where it formed a whirlpool of blistering blue-silver radiance. He half-bowed his head and drew on that magic, funneling it through his wand.

He didn’t speak aloud, even though he had never cast this spell silently, because there was too much chance that his mother would have Listening Charms here too and would know what he was doing if this didn’t work. Instead, he simply fed his power and intention down his wand, and heard the wood creak and stir under the immense pressure of the magic.

The door in front of him swayed back and forth in his vision. Harry ignored that. He continued to give it more and more power, and now the house seemed to leap and jump and dance around him.

Do as I say. Do as I will.

Break!

Harry slashed his wand through the motions, and heard a protesting wheeze that seemed to start up and ring through the entire house. He staggered back and sat down so abruptly that his arse hurt.

And then he stared forwards, and there was the door of his mother’s office, hanging open, the way he had never seen it hang.

Harry swallowed and stood. He hoped that his spell had been undetectable to the owner of the wards, the way it was meant to be—it would only have further panicked that unicorn mother otherwise—but he couldn’t be sure. Which meant he needed to take as quick a look as he could around the office for any interesting things, or ones that seemed to pertain to him, and then get the hell out of here.

He stepped into the office, snapping his gaze around the room, then almost flinched from the noise. He hadn’t heard anything until he’d stepped over the threshold, but now the quiet bubbling of potions and the sharp crackles of what seemed to be self-regulating spells were all around him.

Harry saw that the room was filled with cauldrons, crystals, and piping. Crystal pipes led what looked like sheets of blood back and forth from stones of various colors. A crystal arch towered almost to the ceiling, anchored on two tables by pools of shadow Harry couldn’t see into. Potions in the cauldrons sounded like beating hearts.

It was overwhelming, and Harry was tempted to wander around. But he had—he might have—too little time. He had to find what he’d come for and get out right away.

He strode towards what he realized a second later was the table at the center of the room. He had instinctively identified it. And unlike most of the other parts of the office, it was brightly lit. He could clearly see the dome that looked like a crystal ball encasing something gold.

No, not just something gold, and not the small pile of Galleons Harry had thought it might be, either. It was a locket.

Harry stood there, frowning down at it. He supposed it was pretty enough, with the shape of a snake on the front in emeralds, but he had no idea why it would be here. The piping was spreading a floating mist of blood around it, the cauldrons were oriented towards it, and the dome above it flashed with powerful wards, but why?

An artifact, maybe. At least Harry knew what his mother was studying now.

He still had no answers about why. And no idea if she was working in truth or time or love, although the room seemed to point him towards truth. Presumably this locket contained some kind of truth that the Unspeakables wanted to know. Or she did.

Harry felt an odd itch creeping down his arm as he stood there staring at the locket. He was tempted to break the dome and take it.

Like that would keep what you did secret, Harry scoffed to himself, and instead looked as hard as he could at the piping and the crystals and the cauldrons. He could play this back later in Hermione’s Pensieve, and see if maybe it would tell him something that being in the room hadn’t. Hermione would probably be able to help. She was wicked smart, even if she wasn’t an Unspeakable.

The wards on the house trembled.

Harry immediately turned and strode out of the room again, not casting any spells that would conceal the traces of his having been there, although he wanted to. He had no idea how they would react with the delicate crystal and blood and spells and potions in the room.

Once he was back in the corridor, he turned to face the office and squinted at it, while his blood slammed through his body and his ears strained for any trace of his name being called. Nothing yet. Harry focused on the door and pulled his magic back from it in a long rush, into his body and through his wand.

The door shook, and then the wards snapped back into place, As far as Harry could tell, they looked like they hadn’t been touched.

Harry stumbled back, reeling from the sudden influx of magic, and then exhaled hoarsely in relief as he studied the door. Yes, the glints of gold and silver did seem the same, along with the heavy lock.

That had been a modification he’d performed on the spell after the unicorn mare had safely given birth to her foal. The return of the wards would both protect her and the child, and give her more confidence about lingering in the garden of Pelargonium.

“Harry?”

That was Gaunt’s voice, not Mother’s or Snape’s. Harry blinked and turned towards the kitchen. He would have thought Mother would return immediately if she’d felt any disturbance in the wards around the office.

Which probably meant she hadn’t.

Harry didn’t know how to feel about the idea that he was strong enough to trick his way past wards set by his paranoid Unspeakable mother. He shook his head and continued walking down the corridor. Best to meet Gaunt in the kitchen and not reveal that anything had happened.

*

“What’s wrong?”

Harry grimaced. He had taken two steps into the kitchen, and Gaunt, who was looking up from a little black book of some sort on the table, had immediately focused on him, eyes darkening. Right now, his hand was twitching near his wand, and he looked ready to duel someone for Harry’s honor or something equally ridiculous.

“Nothing is wrong,” Harry snapped, then winced at the hoarseness of his own voice. He managed to make his way on wobbly legs over to the refilling jug of water on the counter to draw a glass for himself. He grimaced as he felt the static of his magic in his veins. Pulling that much away from the wards had been the only way to make the office look undisturbed, but the backlash of it in his own body had struck him hard.

“No. You’re shaking. Don’t tell me nothing’s wrong.”

Gaunt’s voice had gone soft and dark. Harry turned around to face him, leaning one arm against the counter, and saw that he was almost swaying in place like a cobra, his eyes locked on Harry’s face.

“Shaking?”

“Yes. As if you’ve run a mile. And your voice…” Gaunt shook his head. “Tell me.”

His magic crept out, filling the room like a shining shadow. Harry snarled, baring his teeth. They’d gone through the Imperius Curse as part of their NEWT in Defense. This didn’t feel exactly like that, but it had the same insidious nature. The tendrils were trying to slip inside his mind, whispering Tell me, tell me, tell me…

As if he has any right to care.

Harry let his jaw sag a little bit as if Gaunt’s magic was getting to him. “Fine,” he said in a dull voice. “You caught me.”

“What were you doing, Harry?” Gaunt sounded full of sweet patience now.

“Having a sex marathon,” Harry said promptly. “I had to take him really deep, and he came deep, too.” He rubbed his legs and shivered.

Gaunt’s eyes widened. He stared at Harry as if he had never seen him before. “I know that both your parents are gone,” he said slowly. “You took the opportunity to sneak your…lover into the house?”

“Yeah.” Harry let his head loll back and his mouth open a little wider. “If you knew…”

“I want to know. Tell me, Harry.”

Harry would have liked to keep the joke going longer, but there was too much pent-up murder in Gaunt’s voice, and the sheer ridiculousness of that made him explode into laughter. “Your face!” he gasped as he straightened up and saw the frozen way Gaunt was standing there. “Your face, oh Merlin!”

“You didn’t have a lover in the house.”

“No.”

“You didn’t have a sex marathon.”

“Not right now.” Harry winked at him. “No telling what I might have done in the past.”

“You lied to me.”

“And you tried to use your magic to compel me to tell you the truth.” Harry dropped every trace of laughter from his face and took a long step nearer to Gaunt. “You ever do that again, you’re going to find out about the spell I invented when someone tried to dump a Nundu kitten at my job.”

“Even a Nundu kitten is dangerous.”

“I’m here. It’s not.”

Gaunt took a deep breath, his eyes locked on Harry. His hands clenched in front of him, as if gathering up air like a big blanket and releasing it. “I apologize,” he finally said. “I am—more attracted to you than I would wish to be, and it is making me snap and ask questions that are none of my business.”

Harry stared at him. “I didn’t think you were one of them.”

“One of whom?”

“Celebrity fuckers. I’ve had some people at Hogwarts and afterwards interested in me because of the Boy-Who-Lived bollocks. Didn’t think you were one of them.”

“I am not.”

“Uh-huh.”

Gaunt gave a sharp laugh. It was creepy, yes, but not as creepy as his polished mask had been. Harry had the feeling that he was getting to see the real Tom Gaunt at last. “I am not,” he repeated, and shook his head. “You are much different than I thought you were. I have to admit that I expected to either find a spoiled child, or someone whose fame had gone to his head and who thought he should be able to pass the Potions NEWT with a minimum of work.”

“And those were the only two possibilities, of course.”

“They were the ones I considered most likely.”

Harry just shook his head and said nothing. It wasn’t like he could have expected Gaunt to know about Harry’s life with Snape and his mother, or why he had moved out of the country. This conversation was about nothing, really, except that he never wanted to see Gaunt again. “You tried to control me with your magic.”

“Suspecting that it wouldn’t work.”

“As if that makes it moral.”

Gaunt’s smile flashed. “Are you interested in what’s moral? Are you here subjecting yourself to your stepfather’s harsh words because it’s the right thing to do? You should walk away from this, and you know it. But you also want to see your sisters again.”

Harry considered Gaunt’s face through narrowed eyes. “You think you can help me do that.”

“Yes. Now that I know who you really are, I think that you can be a strong brewer, if only out of stubbornness.” Gaunt’s hand folded inwards, clasped into a fist over his heart, and he abruptly bowed. “And I owe you an apology. I should not have tried to do that with my magic. It was wrong of me.”

“Not morally wrong.”

“No. Wrong because it won’t help me achieve my goals.”

“What are those?”

Gaunt seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “There are—potions that the ancient wizards and witches once brewed which are beyond the skill of any modern brewer. Partially because the recipes have come down to us piecemeal, partially because some of the ingredients we would need do not exist anymore. Most are extinct plants.”

“You think I can help you because I work at Pelargonium.”

“And because you have powerful magic, and because we can assist each other.” For a moment, Gaunt’s eyes flickered towards the Listening Charm in the corner of the kitchen ceiling. Harry just nodded. “I grew up in—some of the same ways you did.”

“Famous?”

“No.” Gaunt’s mouth twisted in something too grim to be called a smile. “Raised by bastards. Raised by the uncaring.”

Harry looked hard at him. Gaunt looked back without flinching, without pity. There was only understanding.

And calculation, of course, but Harry had come to expect that of Gaunt. He thought he even understood the way Gaunt had treated him before this. It had been contempt. Gaunt had thought Harry didn’t matter and that it would be funny to toy with him—he’d probably seen Harry’s reaction to his handsome face—and make him act in certain ways.

It wasn’t right.

But Gaunt was correct that neither of them had morality as their main concern right now.

If Harry could persevere in his Potions study, remain close enough to his mother’s office to try and work out what the locket was, and pass his NEWT with marks high enough that Snape’s face would contort in anger, he’d take it. And he’d help Gaunt source these rare ingredients. Maybe grow them.

Force them into being.

Harry couldn’t deny his own excitement at thinking about a spell he could invent that might do that. Gaunt seemed to see it, since he tilted his head. “What are you thinking of?”

“I enjoy spellcrafting,” Harry said. The charms could pick up whatever they wanted. Unless his mother said something about touching the wards on her study, Harry never planned to admit it. “I was thinking that I might be able to create a spell that would force some of the seeds of those extinct plants to exist again.”

Gaunt nodded slowly, abstractedly. “You are potentially much more valuable than I thought you were. I had so many misconceptions.”

“The spoiled child one, you said.”

“Yes.” Gaunt looked straight at Harry, his eyes blazing and with a red tint that Harry had seen in them before. “And also someone who carried no great power or potential. You defeated the Darkest Lord the world has ever known as a baby, but what have you done since then?”

Harry thought of disputing that Voldemort was the Darkest ever, but there didn’t seem to be a point. He shrugged. “Not much, you’re right.”

“But you do have the potential for more. For a spellcrafter.” Gaunt’s fingers twitched. “Many claims of spellcrafting are subjected to doubt and denial and over-rigorous testing, because so few people believe that someone could create a new spell instead of something that simply replicated the effect of an old one. But with your fame, you could be taken more seriously early on. You could earn a different kind of fame and power, one that would make people who have power already pay attention to you.”

Harry paused. It was an ambition he had never particularly entertained, but, well, now he had his mother’s study to investigate. Snape to hurt with his own ignorance. And someone who could help Harry get better at Potions, which in turn would increase his value at his job. There was work Harry couldn’t do at Pelargonium because he didn’t have the necessary brewing skill.

And did he want to stay at Pelargonium forever? What if he wanted to go somewhere else someday?

Connections, Potions skills, more training for his magic—none of that would hurt.

“So you would have the connections as my ally,” Harry said.

Gaunt nodded. His face looked almost cadaverous with hunger. “I told you before that I spent a long time immersing myself in books. Too long. I gave up the connections I could have had with people if I had started on my work younger. It was a miracle that I managed to coax a famous brewer into taking me as an apprentice at all. I want the time I missed back. If I can’t literally have it, then I’ll take what you can give me.”

Harry relaxed a little. “I have one condition.”

“Yes?”

“Wait, two. No more controlling me with your magic, ever again. And no more touching me sexually the way you have been.”

Gaunt blinked, as if he hadn’t thought Harry would dare to name the way he had been touching him. But then another twisted smile ran over his lips. “Agreed. You have more value to me now than just a bit of entertainment.”

He paused, then added, “Although…”

“Yes?”

“If you ever ask me for it, I would consider doing so again.”

“Sorry, I’ll content myself with imaginary sex marathons,” Harry said, and listened to Gaunt’s laughter, and almost wished he could see his mother’s face when she revised this particular conversation with the Listening Charms.