Lady Tonks, Lord Potter

Back to Hogwarts

Harry sat in the master bedroom at Potter Lodge, his trunk packed neater than ever before thanks to Kipsey, broom shrunken down and placed inside, and wondered if he would survive the train ride to Hogwarts. He'd barely survived the trip to Diagon Alley with Andromeda, who had been...rather intent on making sure that he looked like the perfect illustration of the Head of House Potter. Thankfully Ted had joined them and had made Andromeda see the light; instead of the rather ostentatious and showy things Ted had instead pointed her down a different path, stating that Harry was bound to endure enough attention as it was, being named Lord Potter, that he didn't have to advertise the fact. Instead of the velvet shirts and ties made of shiny acromantuala silk Ted had sent her down a different path, the end result being that Harry was outfitted with normal things but of the highest quality.

There were some things in the trunk that Ted had to relent on, though, mostly the formal robes that Andromeda insisted would possibly be needed at Hogwarts or other situations, but Harry tuned her out at that point. He knew he should be grateful; after all, he didn't have anybody officially in his life except for the house elves, and she did remind him of Molly Weasley in how she mothered him, but the parenting styles were quite different. Apparently growing up in the Ancient and Noble House of Black made someone quite different than growing up as a Prewett.

The thing that kept Harry's nerves off of the train ride, though, rolled around smoothly in his hand; his new wand. Ollivander had been quite confused when he'd entered the shop, as the old wandmaker didn't understand why the wand that had been called to Harry didn't seem to work for him anymore. He'd declared that it was 'extremely curious' and set to finding a new wand with a gleam in his eye that Harry found unnerving. Eventually, though, they found it; eleven inches long, a smooth hawthorn wand with a griffon feather core. Immediately upon touching it Harry felt a swirl of magic unlike before; his old wand had made the magic rise in him, almost like being filled up with air for a brief moment, but the new wand made him feel as if he'd touched magic for the first time, suffusing him with joy. Ollivander had required him to fill out paperwork on why he required a second wand; it didn't happen very often but it did occur from time to time, as evidenced by the official Ministry form. In the REASON FOR NEW WAND spot, after a subtle hint from Ted, Harry wrote 'assumed Head of House status.'

A quick crack brought Harry's attention, as Kipsey had entered the room and began to levitate his trunk. "Master Harry, the Auror to take you the train is being here. Kipsey takes the trunk to the ward line."

Harry stood up and pocketed his wand, adjusted his glasses and took a deep breath. "Great. Thanks, Kipsey." As the elf popped away he headed downstairs, carefully noting everything about the lodge. He wanted to have a memory of the place, just in case something happened, to know that at least at one point in his life this was his house, the house of his family. If he was honest with himself, even after everything that had happened, the whole horcrux business and the book incident, not to mention the whole being incapacitated for weeks, he didn't want to leave. There were still more family secrets there at the lodge, possibly tucked away in a book in the library, maybe another secret room, and it just seemed cruel that he had to leave.

Andromeda and Ted waited for him out on the front garden and, from the looks on their faces, he could tell that they weren't sure about his leaving as well. He thanked them for all their help, shook Ted's hand, and then started the walk through the row of trees to the ward line. Ted had walked him through it earlier, how guests that weren't approved in the official ward book or weren't considered family could only come as far as the front gate. It wasn't much of a gate, not really, nothing massive like the one at Hogwarts, but it was sizable and fitted into the waist-high stone wall that was made of rocks fitted together so tightly no binding factor was required. At the top of the black, iron gate was the Potter griffon, fierce and proud, but that was the only ornamentation on the gate, not even a lock. When he got to the gate he pushed on one side, the dark metal swinging away with only the hint of metallic squeak.