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Harry Potter: The Artisan's Path Chapter 6
🕑 Added 2023-03-20 05:11:05 +0000 UTCDisclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the intellectual property associated with Harry Potter.
Hi all,
Here's the next chapter. Harry meets the Greengrass family, and he is in for a surprise.
July 30th
Harry was in the living room with his grandmother, preparing to leave and meet the Greengrass family. He was not looking forward to the trip, as he wanted to stay here and continue crafting and not interact with others.
Harry squirmed as his grandmother fussed with his hair, trying to lay it flat. "Why do I need to look good to meet some family? Are they snobs? It all seems like a waste of time."
"That is because making a first good impression is important," Minerva said firmly. "The Greengrass family are now allies and will be a tremendous help in the future. Also, they have two daughters that you will get to know. From what I know of their parents, they won't be impressed by a scruffy appearance."
"What?" Harry almost ripped himself out of his grandmother's clutches. "No one said anything about meeting girls. Can I stay here?"
"Why are you being so ridiculous?" Minerva huffed, before noticing his panicked expression. "Harry, what's wrong?"
"It's nothing," Harry mumbled, turning away from her searching gaze. She grabbed his chin and made him look at her.
"Have you had an unpleasant experience with a girl?" McGonagall asked gently. "Well, you seem too young to have a girlfriend, but times are different since I was your age."
Harry rolled his eyes. "I have never had a girlfriend. You forget that I look a lot different than I do now. My appearance was very ugly, to say the least. I was the target of many jokes and girls were especially vicious. I can't stand them."
"I'm sorry you experienced that," Minvera said, cupping his face. "But you have to remember that some of that was because of the necklace. From what you described of your life, it seemed to have an aversion ward on it, which affected everyone around you."
"I guess," Harry replied.
She led him to a tall mirror and placed him in front of it. He stared at his image, which looked more respectable after he got some new clothes. His grandmother had gone out early this morning and brought him some to tide him over until they had time to buy a whole new wardrobe.
He was dressed in jeans, a green t-shirt and a brown leather jacket. His grandmother threw them at him when she returned, demanding that he wear these clothes in particular as if he wasn't capable of choosing something suitable for himself. Still, he couldn't deny that he looked good in them, and it did wonders for his self-esteem.
Minerva placed a hand on his shoulder. "Take a good look at yourself. You are so handsome, you will have to beat the girls with a stick. When I look into your eyes, I remember the young fiery girl who first stepped into Hogwarts. Lily immediately captivated James, and that feeling never faded."
Harry squirmed, his face hot. Thankfully, his grandfather approached at that moment and spared him further embarrassment.
"Leave Harry alone," Charlus chided her. "You will turn him into a blubbering idiot before he even steps through the floo."
Minerva released Harry and turned her ire on her husband. "Well, at least I don't have to worry about the same thing happening to you. You're a bampot."
It was probably more Scottish slang for an idiot. Harry snickered, and Charlus shot him a glare. "Let's get moving. We will be late if we continue to bicker like children."
"Are you forgetting something?" Minerva asked. "Harry has never used the floo network before. That would make for a spectacular first impression; shooting out of the fireplace and halfway across the floor."
"You worry too much," Charlus said dismissively. "I have briefed the family on his circumstances, so they don't expect him to be a perfect little wizard."
They stepped into the living room and approached the fireplace. Charlus took a bag off a table beside it and took a pinch of floo powder. "Now, you need to throw some floo powder into the flames and wait until they turn green. Just before you step into the flames, you must announce your destination loudly and clearly. Every location setup on the floo network has a code word that allows you to travel to the destination. In this case, the words you need to say are simply Greengrass Manor."
"Seems simple," Harry shrugged. "Who came up with this travel method? Wizards are weird."
"That is true," Charlus said. "I will step through first to demonstrate how it is done, then you will follow."
"Okay," Harry said. He watched as Charlus threw the powder into the flames and they flared up before turning bright green. Charlus stepped through the flames, announcing his destination and disappearing. That was awesome to witness, despite his disparaging remarks. There was something so inherently magical about it.
"Remember to pronounce it clearly," Minerva said. "Otherwise, you never know where you will end up."
Harry followed his grandfather's lead and stepped through the flames, coughing from inhaling fumes after opening his mouth to speak. Immediately, he felt himself spinning rapidly as he moved extremely fast through a dark tunnel. Occasionally he could see exits to other destinations, though it was too fast for him to register anything.
Harry felt himself slowing down, and he instinctively braced himself before shooting out of the fireplace. He skidded a few metres across the floor, his arms windmilling before his grandfather caught him. Harry straightened, acting as if he hadn't made a complete idiot of himself.
He heard a giggle, and he turned towards the sound. Standing over by a set of double doors was a family of four. There was a beautiful blonde-haired woman with an easy smile dressed in slacks and a summer blouse. The man looked stern and formal in a blue suit, with short brown hair and icy blue eyes.
Standing next to them were two girls, very similar in looks but their hair and eyes distinguished them, having a mixture of their parents' traits. He felt nervous looking at the eldest girl. She was gorgeous, and her dress framed her body beautifully, showing that she was already maturing into a woman. She shared her mother's honey-blonde hair, which was tied up in a loose braid. Her eyes, however, were the same icy blue as her father's.
A pop sounded, and Harry almost screamed when a small creature appeared in front of him, distracting him from his fascination with the girl.
"What are you?" Harry asked, and he could hear his grandfather groan.
"I be Nobsy, sir. A house-elf. May I take your bag to your room?" The weird creature asked politely.
"I guess so," Harry said, handing him the bag when his grandfather didn't object. Overall, he felt he had handed himself pretty well, considering the house-elf appeared out of nowhere.
Minerva stepped through at that moment, and the family walked forward to meet them.
"Charlus, just on time," the man said. "Minerva, you look radiant as ever."
"Hello, Daniel," Charlus said. "Thank you for allowing Harry to stay here, while we are looking for another place to live. I guess I don't have to introduce my wife."
"Of course not. I still feel like I'm a schoolboy when I meet you, Minerva," Daniel said, before turning his gaze to Harry. "I guess this is your grandson?"
"That's right," Charlus gripped his shoulder and pushed him forward. "This is Daniel Greengrass, Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass. This is my grandson, Hadrian Potter, my Heir. But you may call him Harry."
At the mention of his name, Harry's eyebrows rose. Since when has his name been Hadrian? What was this about him being an heir?
Minerva wanted to sigh in exasperation at the look of confusion on her grandson's face. "Please forgive us, we haven't had time to discuss with Harry what it means to be a Potter and all that it entails. We were only reunited with him yesterday."
"Don't worry about it," the woman said. "Hello, Harry. My name is Sylvia, and these are our two daughters. Daphne, the eldest and the Greengrass Heir. And our youngest, Astoria."
The two girls curtsied, and Astoria looked like she was going to start giggling again.
"Hello," Harry said awkwardly.
"Now, there is usually more etiquette when meeting a noble family," Charlus said to his grandson. "But we have waived that tradition because you are not expected to know anything considering you were raised in the Muggle world. We have a lot to teach you."
"Great," Harry said dryly, trying not to look like he swallowed a lemon. Judging by the smile that flickered across Daphne's face, he had not succeeded.
"We should get moving," Charlus said, before turning to Harry. "Can I trust you not to get into trouble?"
"Sure," Harry said. "Wait. Does that include any trouble that finds me?"
"Yes," Minerva said, reaching out and hugging him. "We will see you later. Have fun."
They said goodbye to the others and exited through the fireplace.
"Let's show you to your bedroom," Daniel suggested.
The adults moved ahead, and Harry was left to follow in their wake with the two girls beside him.
"Hi," Astoria said, stepping closer to him. "So you're Harry Potter, The Boy-Who-Died."
"I sure hope I rid myself of that hyphenated name once the magical world knows I am alive," Harry grimaced.
"Then you will be known as The Boy-Who-Lived," Astoria giggled.
"Well, I will refuse to speak to anyone using that name," Harry said.
"So you're not planning to speak to the majority of witches and wizards in Britain then?" Astoria asked.
"That sounds like a great idea," Harry nodded.
Harry heard muffled laughter and turned to Daphne, who held a hand to her face. She met his eyes before looking away quickly, her braid swinging over her shoulder.
They walked down a long hallway, and Harry was distracted by the portraits on the wall, which were actually moving. A woman wearing a Victorian dress even winked at him as if she was aware of his presence. Were the portraits sentient?
"They are magical portraits," Daphne said, speaking up for the first time. "Before a witch or wizard dies, they make a portrait of themselves imbued with their magic. They are not real, merely an echo of what they used to be when they were still alive. Still, it's a fantastic piece of magic."
"Right." Harry nodded.
Daniel Greengrass led them up a staircase to the second floor, and down the hallway past several rooms. He stopped in front of a door and opened it for him, leading him into a large luxurious room with a four-poster bed.
"This will be your room while you stay with us," Daniel said. "We will leave you to unpack your belongings. If there is anything you need, ask one of the girls. Astoria, make sure you behave."
"That's total bias," Astoria protested. "What about giving Daphne the same warning?"
"Because I know who the real troublemaker is," Daniel said sternly, although he looked amused. "Harry, we will see each other in the dining room for lunch. I have some urgent business to handle."
"Harry, I will be giving the girls a lesson in magic in about an hour," Sylvia said. "Are you interested in joining?"
"Yes," Harry nodded eagerly.
"Excellent," the woman beamed. "The girls will show you to the conservatory where I give their lessons."
The adults left the room, leaving Harry alone with the two girls. Trying to distract himself, he grabbed his bag from the floor. He unpacked his clothes and placed them on the dresser.
Daphne sat down on the bed, and Astoria fluttered around the room like a butterfly. She looked at everything as if she had never seen the room before.
"What's that?" Astoria asked, pointing to his tool pouch that he had unpacked from his bag.
"This is a set of tools I use to repair a lot of stuff," Harry said. "It allowed me to earn some money by helping out a guy who owns a junk store."
"Boring," Astoria said with her nose raised, like a spoiled princess.
"Do you build your own things?" Daphne asked, showing more interest than her sister.
"Yes," Harry said. "I just finished a few projects, but they are nothing interesting. I'm more interested in building things in tandem with Runes, to make some unique creations."
"So you want to be an Artisan then?" Daphne asked.
"Artisan?" Harry had never heard of that term before.
"It's a title given to witches and wizards who create unique and powerful magical Artifacts," Daphne replied. "They are highly respected, as some of their inventions have had a huge impact on the magical world. There is even an Artisan Guild, where you can register your creations, interact with other Artisans, and buy rare and expensive materials."
"Really?" Harry asked. "Is there a guild in Britain?"
"Yes," Daphne nodded with a grimace. "The problem is that it is on the verge of closing down. There are not many talented Artisans on the scene, and there has not been a breakthrough with a new Artifact in over twenty years."
Harry was definitely interested now, and it seemed like a worthwhile goal to strive towards. If an Artifact had not appeared in twenty years, it must be difficult to make. What qualifies an object as an Artefact? There must be a minimum requirement that must be met.
"Can we talk about something more interesting?" Astoria cried, jumping onto the bed beside her sister. "So, which one do you prefer?"
"What?" Harry asked, confused. Even Daphne seemed clueless.
"Which sister do you prefer as your wife?" Astoria asked, leaning forward. "I overheard our parents discussing the possibility of a marriage contract between the Potter and Greengrass families."
"Astoria," Daphne grabbed her sister and shook her. "Stop spreading malicious gossip."
"But it's true," Astoria protested her innocence.
"Mother said she would not allow our father to write up a marriage contract without our consent," Daphne argued.
Harry was dumbfounded. A marriage contract? Did people really practice such archaic traditions in this day and age? There were probably some cultures that still did, but most had abandoned the tradition. Then he remembered that the British magical world was several hundred years behind in social and technological development.
He suddenly saw an image of Daphne and himself walking down the aisle, looking no older than they did now. Which was completely unrealistic, but fear does that to a person.
The girls stopped fighting and watched Harry as he went through a minor meltdown.
"I think we broke him," Astoria giggled.
"Maybe just a little," Daphne said.
"I wouldn't mind if I was forced to marry him," Astoria whispered to her sister. "Although he seems a little awkward, he is so bloody gorgeous."
Daphne rolled her eyes. "You are only eleven years old, and he is not much older than that. You shouldn't speak such nonsense."
"So, Harry," Astoria raised her voice, snapping him out of his stupor. "Have you decided on a bride yet?"
Daphne wanted to smack her irrepressible sister.
=-=-=-=-=-=
An hour later, the girls led him down to the conservatory. Harry found it difficult to look at the girls after the talk they had, which was completely ridiculous. If he wasn't careful, he would be led around by the nose by Astoria, who took great pleasure in teasing him. At least it wasn't malicious from what he could tell. He had plenty of negative experiences with girls to tell the difference.
Sylvia Greengrass was already there when they entered the room. The conservatory was a separate building attached to the manor and completely built of glass. Natural light filtered through it and illuminated the entire room. A large table and chairs were arranged in the middle. On the sides, there were raised gardens filled with a variety of plants and flowers. When he first inhaled the scent, he relaxed a little at the pleasing aroma.
"Okay, what happened?" Sylvia demanded as they settled into the chairs. "What is with the awkward atmosphere?"
"It's all Astoria's fault," Daphne scowled at her sister, who poked her tongue at her. "She keeps talking about one of us being Harry's bride."
"Don't be ridiculous," Sylvia said, causing Daphne to sigh in relief. "If there is a bride, it would obviously be Daphne."
"What!?" Harry and Daphne yelled together.
Sylvia smiled as she raised her hands in the air. "I'm just kidding. Sure, your father and I discussed the matter, but it wasn't serious. Besides, I doubt Minerva would allow her grandson to be forced into a marriage contract."
Harry thanked his grandmother in his mind. He had no doubt that his scoundrel of a grandfather would not hesitate to put him into a marriage contract without his consent. That's just the impression he got from the man.
"Okay, since that's sorted, let's begin our lesson," Slyvia said. "Instead of the one I had planned, I thought I would ask Harry for a topic he would like to discuss."
Harry perked up, "Can we talk about Ancient Runes?"
"Ancient Runes is a very complex subject," Sylvia said. "But we can talk about the basics. There is parchment and quills on the table for you, should you wish to take notes. Oh, how silly of me. I forgot that you were not raised in the magical world, so it's probably foreign to you."
"Actually," Harry said, grabbing a quill. "By some strange coincidence, I learned calligraphy as a hobby. I am still not proficient at it, but it should be more than enough to take notes."
"Excellent," Sylvia said, giving him an impressed look. "It's not usually something a young boy would have the initiative to learn on his own."
"I have some strange interests," Harry shrugged.
"Alright," Sylvia said. "To begin with, Ancient Runes is the study of runic languages. It is purely a theoretical subject, but the subject branches off into Enchanting in your sixth year. This is the practical application of runes, and it is for those who want careers in fields such as Enchanters, Artisans, or Curse Breakers."
Harry frowned. There was no way he would wait until his sixth year to experiment with runes. He would study far ahead, and not wait until his third year to learn the subject. Using the Source would make it safer for him to practice, although he was sure it was just wishful thinking on his part.
Sylvia continued. "By themselves, runic languages are not magical, as they were old languages used before the alphabet was invented, by both Muggles and wizardkind. These include runic languages such as Elder Futhark, Younger Futhark, Anglo-Saxon, Marcomannic etc. Many historical books and spells in the magical world are written in runic languages. One career that derives from Ancient Runes is that of a Historian that translates books to discover lost or hidden knowledge.
"Now, for the magical application. It is called Enchanting, which is often confused with Charms, but essentially it is the same thing, just applied in a different way. Charms work by imbuing new properties into objects without changing the original object, but they are temporary, dependent on the caster's magic. Enchanting with runes is more permanent, as long as it has access to a supply of magic. Any questions?"
"Why are Ancient Runes introduced in the third year?" Harry frowned. "I can understand why it is an elective, but it should be something we can study from our first year."
"There is nothing stopping you from studying ahead," Sylvia said. "Unfortunately, with the current Headmaster, you will not be able to skip ahead a year or more for subjects you are advanced in. He is remarkably intolerable to students applying themselves and getting ahead of their education."
"That sounds like Dumbledore," Daphne snorted. "Under his reign, Hogwarts has become a laughing stock in other magical schools' eyes. The only reason they are not rock bottom in academics is because of Professor McGonagall and Flitwick."
"Well, I should look at other magic schools," Harry frowned. "Besides the obvious reason for him having some unknown motives for me, I don't want my interests curtailed."
"Well, we still have some time to remove him," Sylvia said. "We have some tentative plans in motion to get rid of him, but it remains to be seen if they will work."
"What kind of plans?" Astoria asked with interest.
"That is none of your business," Sylvia said firmly. "Now, let's get back on topic. Ancient Runes..."
=-=-=-=-=-=
July 31st
Harry left his room and made his way downstairs. He slept in late before being awoken by Dotty, one of the Greengrass house elves. Apparently, he was needed in the dining room, which was strange. He didn't think the family had set hours for breakfast, considering they had servants who could whip up a meal faster than any chef could.
He frowned when he noticed the dining room was dark. How was that possible? The dining room had huge windows overlooking the grounds, so natural light should filter in. Slowing down, he cautiously peered around the door frame, only to be bombarded with bright lights and noise.
"Surprise!" Everyone yelled, popping up from under the table as the lights turned back on. Above them was a huge banner with the words: Happy Birthday, Harry. Around the room, colourful balloons and streamers were hanging everywhere, and confetti fell from the ceiling.
"What the hell?" Harry blinked.
"Happy birthday, Harry," Minerva walked forward and hugged him tightly.
Harry protested, "But my birthday is in September."
Minerva looked confused, which was replicated by his grandfather and the entire Greengrass family.
Charlus smacked his head in realisation, "Of course. Changing your birthdate is another measure Dumbledore would do to keep you hidden. Harry, your actual birthday is today."
"Oh," Harry said dumbly, looking around at the surprise set up just for him. The fact that it was his birthday today, as well as the fact that someone cared, stunned him. He never had a birthday celebration in his life.
"Come and sit down," Minerva guided him to the table, where a birthday cake was displayed in the middle. "We shouldn't have cake for breakfast, but we didn't want to wait anymore."
The cake was simple and elegant, decorated with red frosting and golden trim, with his name scrawled on the top. He turned to his grandparents. "The colours are certainly striking. Is there a meaning behind them?"
"That was your grandmother," Charlus laughed. "They are the Gryffindor house colours. I think she is biased and wants to subliminally influence your placement there."
Minerva sniffed, "Of course, he will be in Gryffindor. It would be an absolute travesty if he was anywhere else."
"Hey, now," Daniel protested. "You discriminate against the other houses. Personally, I think he would look splendid in green."
"Over my dead body," McGonagall growled.
Harry was confused by their conversation, and he turned to the girls with a questioning look, but they merely grinned at him. Suddenly, he had a thought.
"Does this mean I get my wand today?" Harry asked excitedly, forgetting about the cake.
"I see where your priorities lie," Daphne smirked at him.
"Well, we cannot take you to Ollivanders in Diagon Alley to get you a wand," Charlus said. "He will see through any disguise you have, and he will run straight to Dumbledore to tell him he has seen you."
"Then what can I do?" Harry asked, crestfallen.
"I went to our family vault and grabbed the wands stored there," Minerva said. "One of them should work well enough until we can get your own wand."
"Okay," Harry said. He wasn't too fussed. As long as it was effective and he was able to do some magic with it.
Having eaten some cake, he was presented with some birthday presents after he had finished eating the cake. Harry stared at the pile of presents in awe. He couldn't believe how many he would get.
Astoria rushed forward and grabbed a small present wrapped in green and gave it to him. "This is from me. It's the most important, so you can open it first."
"Okay," Harry said, amused. He tore off the paper and opened the box. Inside were several dozen individually wrapped Chocolate Frogs. Curious, he opened one up, only to exclaim in shock when the frog leapt from his hands. He reached out instinctively and snatched it before it could escape.
"Great reflexes," Astoria grinned, before pointing to the card that came with it. "But that is the real prize. They come with collectable wizarding cards. I have sixty-nine so far. If you have any I need, please give them to me."
"Astoria," Sylvia scolded her. "Is that the only reason you got those for him?"
"Um, no?"
"Thanks for the present," Harry said. "Is this chocolate safe to eat?"
"It's not real," Daphne said. "It is just an animation charm."
"Why would they do that in the first place?" Harry asked, but he threw the chocolate into his mouth and chewed on it slowly, savouring the taste.
Harry opened the following presents from Daphne and her parents. She got him a book, which gave him a comprehensive list of Artifacts made in the twentieth century from around the world. It would give him plenty of ideas for creating his own Artifacts. Sylvia got him several Spell-Checking Quills and he received a Foe Glass from Daniel. The man explained that a Foe-Glass was a mirror that detects and shows its owner's enemies in or out of focus, depending on how close they are to them. Harry thanked them and moved on to his grandparent's presents, of which there were several.
A lot of them were clothes; including a set of stylish green, black and navy robes. There were also several power tools, which surprised him. Maybe his grandparents were more in tune with the non-magical world than he imagined. There were some toys as well, including a pack of Exploding Snap cards, a wizard's chess set, and Gobstones. Lastly, there were a dozen books on magic. Harry was overwhelmed by their generosity, and he thanked his grandparents profusely.
Minerva took out a draw-string pouch from her purse, reached inside and started taking out wands one after the other and placing them on the table. A minute later, there was a huge pile of wands in front of him and Harry stared at them eagerly.
"Should we take this outside?" Charlus asked dubiously. "He may cause some damage by finding a suitable wand."
"It's fine," Daniel said dismissively. "Any damage he does can be easily fixed. However, I suggest we stand back and give him some space."
The others retreated to the doorway to avoid any potential mishaps.
"Harry, just pick up each wand and wave it around," Minerva said. "Just don't point it at us or yourself. If it releases sparks, it means you have some compatibility with it."
What followed was an unmitigated disaster as he proceeded to trash the dining room. The table was the worst off, as it sported numerous burns, and in some parts, vanished entirely. The chandelier above the table crashed down and smashed into hundreds of pieces. The wall across from him now had a gigantic hole in it, and he could see the hallway beyond.
After trying twenty-three different wands, he finally found a compatible wand. A torrent of blue sparks emerged from the wand as he waved it around. Harry grinned, lowering the wand and inspecting it.
It was about eleven inches long, and the handle was thick because the wood had been twisted together to form a spiral pattern. The rest of the wand had several runes carved into its surface, and the end was very blunt, giving it an ungainly look. It was a light brownish colour, a wood he didn't recognise.
"It's a maple wand," Charlus said, coming to stand next to him. "They usually denote wizards who are explorers and travellers, and those with a singular drive to achieve something."
"It's too bad we don't know what the magical core is," Minerva said. "I guess it doesn't matter in the long run. This will be a backup wand for when we get you a custom wand."
"It works," Harry shrugged. "That is what matters most. Now, can I learn some magic?"
=-=-=-=-=-=
1st August
"Welcome to France, Harry."
Harry climbed to his feet after suffering through another vomit-inducing Side-Apparation. His grandparents stood next to him, observing the grounds in front of them.
A driveway led up to a two-storey house in front of them. The exterior was a pale cream colour, with a roof covered in dark blue tiles. There was a splash of vibrancy about the place, with flowers adorning the window sills, balconies, and the front veranda.
"Is this our new house?" Harry asked. "How did you purchase it so quickly?"
"It belongs to an old friend of mine," Charlus said. "In fact, it borders his son's property. You will meet them eventually, I believe."
"In fact," Minerva smirked, ruffling his hair. "I believe our neighbours have two daughters as well. Isn't that a funny coincidence?"
"Hilarious," Harry said flatly, before brightening. "It's fortunate I don't speak French, so they probably won't bother with me."
Charlus sighed, "Are you even my grandson? You already have two girls smitten with you, yet you are completely oblivious."
Harry ignored him, marching forward to check out the house. "Where will my workshop be built?"
"At the back," Minerva replied.
They walked around to the back, where there was an enormous section. Harry's eyes lit up when he spotted huge piles of building supplies near the back fence. He sprinted forward to inspect them. Along with a huge supply of timber, there were bags of cement, steel frames, some masonry and a load of bricks. It was way more than he ever needed for his building, but he wouldn't complain.
He now had a project that would occupy him for a long time. Perhaps not so long, if he could create some shortcuts with magic. Surely it would still count as experience for his construction skill, right?
Harry rolled up his sleeves. It was time to work.
So, what do you think? Next chapter, Harry constructs his own workshop and meets the neighbours.
Thanks for reading.
Comments
GamerFiction
No tables were harmed in the writing of this chapter. 😊
FelixStowmwolf99
Great interactions. Poor table.
