Harry woke up the next morning on a plush, maroon couch, a soft pillow under his head. He curled up tighter into the warmth, the comfort unfamiliar and addicting to his small, battered body. Looking around, he saw that he was in a cluttered sitting room with a small fireplace and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.
"You're finally awake." He sat up, Alabasandria Adams stared back at him with her uncanny bright eyes, watching him from a lounge chair. "I didn't expect that to take so much out of you. You're weak - we'll have to fix that."
"I am not weak!" Harry complained even as his joints protested his movement.
"You are, but there is no shame in it. It is because of your poor upbringing, no doubt. You're malnourished. Before we get you healed, which will require the use of a wand, we'd better handle all the legal nonsense first. Having you listed as my apprentice legally will not only allow you your own wand, but it can grant me the same rights as a guardian. It is the safest option, for both of us."
"Safest how?"
"You seem quite worried I'm not going to feed you. As your master and guardian, I will be legally required to care for you. You would be free to sue me if my care is not adequate. This will also grant you the right to a wage once you turn fifteen. In addition, this will prevent any prying goody-two-shoes fools like Dumbledore from stealing you back. As well as preventing the Ministry from spying on us. They usually have a Trace to monitor underage wixen. Neither of us can afford that in fact, I don't dare step foot in the Ministry at all. In exchange, you will not be allowed to share trade secrets and have a contractual agreement to finish your studies. Should you freely share the details of our work, then both of us risk prison at best and execution at next best, so keep your mouth shut.
Now, our ritual last night already covered most of that, but the Ministry doesn't accept blood rituals as proof of guardianship, and again, you seemed rather concerned I'm going to hit you."
Harry did feel more at ease knowing she was taking his care seriously. "You mentioned him yesterday, Dumbledore. Who is he?"
"Dumbledore is your previous magical guardian at least that's what he's claimed publicly. He's kept all knowledge of you hush-hush since your parents were killed. He is the leader of the Light which is a whole thing I don't have time to get into - and will absolutely want you back under his clutches the second he realizes you aren't there. He's biased but considered generally a decent man but that will disappear in an instant if he finds out you're performing the Dark Arts. He would kill both of us. He has a wealth of political power and influence. I'm planning on hiding you in plain sight. You'll likely have to go to Hogwarts -" she sighed. "I would have preferred Durmstrang but we must pick and choose our battles."
"My guardian? So he left me with the Dursleys," Harry grumbled.
"Correct. He won't have any legal grounds to take you, fear not. He also should have explained magic and the Voldemort debacle to you, but I digress. Now, we really should be going. I don't have a lot of food here, so the faster we do our business, the faster we can get you fed and healed."
They apparated - a terrible mode of transportation that left Harry feeling woozy and nauseous - to Diagon Alley where he ogled all the magical shops and items before they headed up to the bank. The master-apprenticeship contract was not very long and Adams had explained most of what went into it already. Alabasandria filled out a thick pile of parchmentwork with minimal input from him. He was being listed legally as a potions apprentice, which she assured him she was very good at and would also teach him. Harry was also thrilled to discover his parents had left him a vault full of money which they promptly used to buy him essentials like clothes, a mountain of magical equipment, and his very own magic wand!
Ollivander was creepy and made Harry try out wand after wand after wand until finally, he ended up with a holly and thestral hair wand - eleven inches and springy. Ollivander had been very interested in that choice, and it had taken Adams cold voice for the man to let the pair leave. Apparently, it was a rare combination, suited for people with his kind of spooky, illegal magic.
True to her word, Harry was fed (the most delicious roast beef sandwich ever) and showered and wearing proper clothes, feeling for the first time like a normal young boy. He took a very nice long nap on the couch as she went about conjuring another room upstairs for him.
He was feeling great. That was until it was time to start his necromancy lessons.
She ushered him into the basement, a space much different than the cluttered but homey feel of the rest of the cottage. The hard stone walls and floor stripped him of any warmth. The walls were bare and there was little in the empty space except for a bookshelf filled with blood-stained trinkets, books, and tools. Three long tables covered in cloth took up the majority of the space. There was something long and body-shaped underneath the fabric. Adams began to lecture, ignoring his horrified and fascinated perusal of the room.
"The first tasks an apprentice necromancer must complete are complex and overwhelming, but I am certain you can handle what's coming. You have noticed my tattoos -" she shrugged out of her robe to show off the complex arrangement of symbols and patterns running across her body. There was a large depiction of a man on fire, a series of lines in shapes that resembled diagrams of chemical structures. There were a lot of tiny words wrapping around her wrist, their language unknown but feeling ancient and powerful. There were many, many bones - a full skeleton on her upper arm, several skulls dotted in any small space available. And a stylized sun adorning the palm of one hand, and a moon on the other.
"These are essential for the safety of the practitioner. Each one serves a different function and all together they allow me to stay in control of my body and mind while casting. Necromancers are prone to possession, madness, and other fatal hardships.
You and I were born necromancers. You can tell by our eye color and other traits. Alongside this, you being death-touched which occurred when the dark lord Voldemort cast the Killing Curse on you a curse no one has ever survived before - will keep you safe. That does not guarantee complete safety, however. Thus, tattoos and other measures. As you progress you will earn more of them. There is still a risk, there always is, necromancy is not without cost, and you are young. I do not know how it may affect you. But these are the best ways to keep you safe."
"Don't other people notice them?" Harry asked, watching a skeletal hand move around her neck like a spider.
"Theoretically, yes. It is possible to glamor them so people cannot see, but because necromancy is almost completely a dead art, it does not matter as rarely do people recognize the rune patterns. Rune tattoos are fairly common, and wizarding clothes are modest, so they rarely come up. I will save the more obvious ones for last until you are hopefully finished with school and I advise you to keep your clothes on around Albus Dumbledore, who would certainly be suspicious. Tattoos are a very important and honored tradition of necromancy, so I avoid disguising them as much as possible.
Aside from the tattoo, there is one other ritual a new necromancer must complete. It is called a horcrux. It will prevent you from dying should you make a fatal error, and ensure your longevity to complete the apprenticeship. There is no point in training you if you die quickly. Coincidentally, there is one within you right now. It appears that Voldemort rendered part of his soul into your scar."
"He's in my scar!?"
"I will remove it once you are strong enough for me to do so, do not worry. But yes, a piece of his soul remains in the scar. I have never seen a horcrux attached to an organic being before, it is fascinating and perverse. You will be attaching yours to something much more reasonable." Harry cupped his forehead in horror.
Waving her wand, she conjured a wooden kitchen chair and gestured for him to sit.
"We must, first of all, give you your strength back. If it was merely a recent injury, we could heal it the traditional way with potions and spellwork, but in your case, that would take months to fix all the damage. Instead, I will show you an advanced technique for healing. You must promise you will not attempt this without me as it can be very dangerous."
Harry nodded in agreement and pulled out his wand when prompted. He was bouncing in his chair in excitement. So far, the necromancy did not seem that bad, despite all the blood yesterday. He was excited to get some sick tattoos and he would not say no to a spell that would keep him from getting hurt. Magic was awesome.
"You will not master this spell on the first try, this is ridiculously advanced for a child, but I cannot cast it for you. To cast, you must pull some of your power up from your magical core. As though squeezing a muscle. Try first with a basic spell lumos."
Harry cast the spell over and over until he noticed the energy inside and was able to cast it outward. The wand gave out a faint flicker of light.
"Good. Did you feel the magic moving through you? Send it up to your wand, the wand movement and incantation tell your magic what to do after." Again and again, he cast lumos and the light got brighter each time. Harry couldn't help but grin. He was doing magic!
After a bit, Adams nodded at his progress. "Good. Now the difference between typical magic and necromantic magic is intention. In simpler charms and transfiguration, you simply push magic outward and your wand interprets the rest for you, changing your magic to your desired effect. With more difficult branches such as necromancy, you need to want it. You need to put everything into the spells or they will not function, a wand cannot easily interpret what you mean and will make guesses which can lead to dangerous outcomes. You need to be concise and passionate. Practice this spell exhaurire sana -" She demonstrated a complex wand movement. They repeated this a dozen times.
"Good," she said again, and Harry flushed at the praise, adrenaline pumping. "Now the difficult part. Exhaurire sana drains magic and energy from a being and uses that to heal you. You must want, desperately, to be better."
"I do," Harry said quickly. His wrists hurt a lot from the repeated wand movements and his stomach ached from all the food. He wanted to be healthy and normal and to keep learning cool magic.
"Do you want it enough to take it from another person?"
He paused. "Is the person under there alive?" With a flick of her wand, the sheet flipped off and the body of Vernon Dursley was revealed. The bloody runes were still carved into his body, but his chest fell and rose on beat.
"I thought it would be fitting. And I didn't want to run out for another body. He stole energy from you for years. Ate food while you had none. All you would do is take that energy back from him."
Harry's heart was pounding out of his chest. The Dursleys treated him like dirt under their boots and that wasn't okay and he knew it - had tried to tell a teacher about when he first entered school was resigned to live as their slave for the rest of his life until Vernon hit him too hard and killed him - and so what if he was a bit angry and wanted some revenge? That was perfectly rational. They were terrible people. It... would be fair... wouldn't it?
Harry lifted his wand. It would be fair. "Exhaurire sana!" Nothing happened. It would be fair! He thought louder, shouting the thought into his head. It would serve him right! Harry was a wizard, and Harry would show him how it felt to be picked on, hungry, beaten, cold!
An odd trickle of magic, much colder than with the lumos spell, shivered over his body. His ears started ringing and another rush of power passed through him.
He woke up on the floor a moment later, feeling very odd. His fingers didn't shake and his eyes were very blurry behind his glasses. His stomach rumbled with hunger and he could breathe fully without stabbing pain in his lungs.
"Alright, Potter?" called Adams. "You look a lot better. I think you grew a few inches. Good thing you were unconscious for that, watching this spell is disgusting. Don't get up for a minute - it'll be an adjustment."
"It doesn't hurt anymore," he said bewildered. He felt great! Pressing his hands against his body, he no longer felt ribs protruding. Harry started to laugh, a bit hysterical.