Chapter 6: Chapter 6-
Ricky's hands were sweating. He should have been this nervous to meet James, heck he hadn't even met Lily though she hadn't been hard to spot at the Gryffindor table. The thing was that they were all just kids, people a year younger than him.
But Lily and James were Harry's parents and even if they weren't together at this moment , they were still a part of Harry Potter and even though they weren't his parents the young soul was exiled and nervous around them.
But for him it was meeting Fleamont and Euphemia Potter that unnerve him, they were not only Harry Potter's family but they were about to be the people who would decide Ricky's future.
He sat down in his chair, trying his best from visibly shaking, he didn't want to lie to them and he truly wanted them to like him. Maybe it was both the younger part of Voldemort and his younger self, whom got pounded by the system while growing up.
James and Ricky were waiting in McGonagall's office, thankfully Dumbledore wasn't there, leaving it to McGonagall to deal with the Potters.
The door opened, McGonagall leading Mr. and Mrs. Potter into the room. James stood to give his mother and father a hug.
Fleamont Potter was a little shorter than average with knobbly knees and a huge smile. His hair a sandy-brown with a few streaks of grey and like James his eyes were hazel.
Euphemia Potter was nothing short of magnificent. She had enchanting blue eyes that seemed to pierce into Ricky's heart. Her hair was a mass of black curls and she held herself very straight.
When she walked into the room it was if she owned it and everyone else in that room were her honored guests. It wasn't until James hugged her that Ricky realized she was also very petite, smaller even than her husband.
Euphemia approached him, Fleamont at her side. "Hello Rickard," she said.
"Hi, and please call me Ricky" Replied Ricky smilling back.
"How was your first day at Hogwarts?" Fleamont asked with a warm smile.
"Er… it was, I met James and his friends."
"Quite the characters," Euphemia said with a rueful smile at her son, "aren't they?"
"Sirius is fun," Ricky said.
"Yes, he does have that quality. We were told you did extraordinarily well on your exams," Euphemia said. Her lilting voice put Ricky at ease so that he shifted, putting his hands on his knees.
McGonagall conjured two extra seats and everyone sat down, Mr. and Mrs. Potter sat closest to Ricky
"I heard you were able to cast Corporeal Patronus," Fleamont said.
"He did what!?" James exclaimed.
Ricky smiled, "A Corporeal Patronus. I thought they were cool and reading Fantastic Beasts kind of freaked me out. I never want to meet a dementor."
"What is it? I mean what animal is your Patronus?"
Harry's smile widened, "A panther, but it used to be a stag. I don't know what caused it to change recently though?"
"No way!" James almost yelled. "I don't believe it! That's what my a- er, a stag is what my favorite animal is…" he finished rather lamely.
Fleamont gave him a peculiar look, "I thought your favorite animal was a Horntail?"
Fleamont gave him a peculiar look, "I thought your favorite animal was a Horntail?"
"Those are the worst," Ricky said emphatically. Once again the Harry part of his soul bled through. Then he caught himself with as little grace as James had. "They are the worst type of dragon, ever. Or so I read, you know, in Fantastic Beasts."
"Well stags are my favorite non-magical animals," James defended himself.
"Dragons and deer?" Euphemia asked, confused. "Your two favorite animals are fire breathing dragons and then the common deer?"
James not trusting himself to speak, merely nodded.
Euphemia narrowed her blue eyes at him but let it go, "Learn something new every day, I suppose."
Smilling Ricky threw his two cents in, causing Euphemia to smile.
"Hey at least they taste good but arecacpain to hunt, at least the muggle way that is.
James's face contorted and quickly looked upon hearing this from Ricky.
"So Ricky," Fleamont redirected, "we were told you had nowhere else to go? Is that the complete truth? Aren't there any adults from the magical community or the muggle one who could vouch for you?"
"No, sir. I never met my father, so I can't tell you if he is alive or not but I saw… I remember my mother dying. I was taken in by a family who knew her but didn't like her. They never spoke of her or the choices she made in life. I was told my father was drunk but I don't really believe them. They kicked me out when I was eight, well if asked them they'd say I ran away. Luckily I was picked by a sellwand, she looked after me for a while but she died last year. And I came here on the off chance I might find some living family. I have nowhere else to go..."
Except for an orphanage, but Ricky was more likely to find a job then go back under any muggle guardianship based on both Harry's and Voldemort's memories.
Fleamont and Euphemia exchanged looks.
Euphemia asked, "Do you know when your birthday is?"
They casted each other another glance.
McGonagall coughed, "Is it possible, Fleamont that Harry is your-"
"No, it is not possible," Euphemia said firmly.
"The resemblance between your father and Ricky is quite remarkable," Professor Mcgonagall said gently this time around.
Euphemia shook her head, not in denial, but in resolute faith that her husband would never want or dare to cheat on her.
"My father has been a widower for over twenty years, and he often goes by Harry," Fleamont said.
"I can go get Filius to cast an inheritance Charm," Professor Mcgonagall offered.
Ricky looked a little relieved but tried not to show it, "How does that work?"
McGonagall smiled at Ricky reassuringly before speaking
"Just a drop of blood from the oldest family member in the room. Bronze chain of light for distant cousins, Silver chain of light between siblings, golden for child and parent."
Ricky didn't know that, he had assumed that would be heading to Gringotts in order to do it but this is also not too bad, after all the goblins might discover something else, and he wasn't entirely sure he would want that.
Fleamont nodded and Mcgonagall left the room and returned shortly thereafter with Professor Flitwick.
In a complex series of wand motions and Fleamont passing over a smudge stick to Flitwick, there was light.
Gold light, like suspended electricity extended from Fleamont to James. And bright silver Fleamont to Ricky and a dim silver to James.
Scratching his head Flitwick supposed he must have made a mistake. He re-casted the spell, this time with a droplet of Euphemia's blood. Golden light from Euphemia to James and a dull bronze to Minerva McGonagall and to Ricky from Euphemia.
Flitwick dropped the spell and smiled, "It seems we have our answer."
"Well," Euphemia said with a smile, "I guess I have another son, i always wanted to have twins but I suppose i can settle for this, and it seems that Ricky is related to both the Potter and Ross families."
"You're the last pureblood from the Ross family, Euphemia," McGonagall said.
"Yes, but family is always messier than titles," Euphemia said. "It doesn't matter in the end, Ricky is one of ours, he has nowhere to go, or at least nowhere that he would be welcome. I have always wanted more children. Whichever way the branches of the family tree may fall, Ricky is not responsible for his birth and will not be punished for it. He is a Potter and he is still in school. He is ours, end of discussion."
Ricky felt his heart swell and he wanted very much to hug her at that moment. Even the Voldemort part was awfully quiet at this moment.
"Very well," McGonagall said professionally, but Ricky could see the pride in her eyes.
"Rickard is officially enrolled in his classes and as he only has one years left we are willing to pay for his supplies-"
"Nonsense," Fleamont said, "It is our honor to provide for him."
She nodded, "Then everything is accounted for then. I'm sure James will want to ride back on the train with his friends in the morning, and he no doubt needs to pack but Ricky-"
"I don't have much and I left my bag in the hospital wing give me a few minutes and I will be right back." Ricky said before bolting out of the room like a bat out of hell.
While everyone was left baffled at his action, Ricky ran to the bathroom close to the hospital wing. There both of his simulacrum waited for him, the memories were quickly transferred to him before they disappeared.
On the floor laid a trunk, and according to his memories it was trunk with an undetected expansion charm, meaning it was bigger inside.
So the simulacrum separated everything before placing then inside, after opening the trunk he quickly went inside. Once there he loo kh ed at the neatly separated contents, on one side there was a pile of gold, next to it was oneof silver, what caught his eyes was an even bigger pile of bronze.
According to his memories the total amount turned out to be, fifty million galleons, thirty million sickles, and sixty eight million Knuts.
Looking away he caught sight of mountains of jewels, and other valuable items. A pile of wands, some broken other fully functional.
A pile of furniture bith broken others on their last legs, piles of brooms in the same state as well as a few other trunks.
Nodding his head he climbed out the trunk, shrunk it and walked into the still deserted hospital wing and took his travelling bag, before making his way back to professor Mcgonagall's office.
Upon walking in, he sat down and continued talking with the Potter's, then the professor asked a question.
"So Mr. Potter did you leave your wizarding books in a muggle house when you were kicked out?"
"No," Ricky said. "My foster family burned them."
"Oh," McGonagall said, the surprise clear on her face, "did they happen to read them before they burned them?"
Ricky laughed, "Aside from the titles, no. The words magic, flying, and/or anything else abnormal was strictly forbidden."
Everyone in the room frowned at Ricky, but he saw understanding on McGonagall's face.
"Your bouts of accidental magic must have been-"
"Rough," Ricky finished for her, "I mean I'm okay but I never, ever want to go back there."
"Unless you want to ride the train, Ricky," Fleamont began, "you can come home with Euphemia and me tonight. I will pick James up at the station tomorrow."
"I think I would like to go back with you tonight," Ricky said, relieved. "I think I have had enough of Hogwarts for the time being."
"Surely it wasn't that bad," Flitwick said lightly, "You were sorted into Ravenclaw after all."
James couldn't keep the grumpy expression off his face.
Euphemia smiled, "Ravenclaw, hear that sweety, a Ravenclaw."
Fleamont blinked but after a moment he laughed, "Oh my father is going to be perturbed and delighted. His wife, my mother was a Ravenclaw, you see, but typically any child who comes to Hogwarts with the last name Potter is guaranteed a spot in Gryffindor."
"The Sorting Hat said Gryffindor would be disastrous for me," Ricky said.
"Why?" James asked.
Ricky shrugged, but thought it might have something to do with the early stages of the war beginning with Slytherins versus Gryffindor.
"Oh Dad," James said suddenly, "Ricky was a hatstall."
"Really?" Fleamont asked, "That's rare."
Flitwick laughed, "It may be rare but almost half the number of people in this room were hatstalls."
McGonagall smiled, "I was almost sorted into Ravenclaw."
Flitwick smiled up at his much taller colleague, "And I was almost sorted into Gryffindor."
"Ricky?" James asked, "What house were you almost sorted into? Bet it was Ravenclaw because you read so much."
"Nope," Ricky said cheerfully, "the Sorting Hat was tempted to sort me into Slytherin, something about me being a Parselmouth."
Ricky wasn't sure that was the smartest thing to say but he thought it would be easier to keep his secrets about being from the future if he gave them flashy truths to obsess over instead.
Everyone in the room paled a bit.
Flitwick cleared her throat and asked nervously.
"You can talk to snakes?"
"Yep, Is that rare too?"
The adults were a little wary of this new development, each of them thinking that it best that the no one outside this room learns that in the shadow of the brewing war.
James looked like he was going to be sick.
"It is extremely rare," Flitwick said. "And usually hereditary but Herpo the Foul was born with it and he had no relation to Salazar Slytherin."
"Cool," Ricky said.
"Cool?" James repeated, "It isn't cool, Ricky, it is Dark Magic."
"Says who? Bring a me a book that says it is and I will recend, while we at it bring me a wizarding law book that says so to while we at it?." Shrugged Ricky
"Damn it Ricky it's dark magic everyone knows that" said Jane's nearly yelling.
"No, it isn't, James Fleamont Potter," Euphemia scolded. "It has a bad reputation but no, it is not a magick within the Dark Arts."
"But-"
"James, your mother is right," Fleamont said. "Now, it is getting quite late, I am sure you will be staying up late with your friends but I would like to get Rickyy settled at home before midnight."
After saying they're good byes they apparated, Ricky went side along with Fleamont to Potter Manor.
It wasn't huge but the grounds…Ricky felt the glamour barrier they walked through that would keep muggles away.
They walked along a lantern lit path and most of the flowers were closed but others… Ricky had never been to the green houses at night and the night blooming flowers of the magical variety were breathtaking. Some of the flowers gave off their own light.
"Do you like them?" Euphemia asked him.
Ricky was a bit startled but smiled at her, "I love them. I've never seen plants like these."
Euphemia grinned, "They are all from my greenhouse. Pomona and I -Pomona Sprout, had a rivalry going when we were in school. We were in the same year, though I was in Ravenclaw, and we used to spend hours in the green houses after hours. Once we figured out how to breed them- well-"
Fleamont laughed, "Once they figured out how to breed plants they almost got themselves expelled on more than one occasion."
Ricky's eyes widened, "Why?"
"We created monster plants, invasive species, and," she laughed warmly, "and I think we will share some of my troublemaking years for another time."
Hedwig emerged from the shadows, swooping down to land on Ricky's shoulder.
"Hey there, Hedwig," Ricky greeted.
Fleamont gave the owl an odd look, "Did she know where you would be before you did? The flight from Hogwarts would take a few hours."
"Probably, Hedwig is the smartest avian you'll ever meet."
"She's lovely," Euphemia said.
Hedwig hooted her approval than took back off into the clear night sky, the large grounds and the gardens providing an excellent opportunity for prey.
The manor itself was old and small for what the term 'manor' usually implied. The ceilings were vaulted and windows took up most of the front of the house and the living room.
"Welcome home!" Fleamont holding the door opened wide for his wife and Ricky.
Ricky suddenly felt overwhelmed. Never in his life did he ever felt th his way, neither did Harry, nor Voldemort.
Home. the Harry side of him had given up hope on when Sirius had flown away on Buckbeak at the end of his third year.
And Voldemort had done so at the tender age of eight, after a particularly bad beating at the orphanage.
"There will be time to give you the grand tour when the sun is up, I think," Euphemia said, "but for now this way to your room."
His room.
They went up the steps and the manor had character and little wizard oddities such as railing that leaned into your touch, hallway lights that danced when someone walked under them, and a clock that told the time with a little sun moving over a map of Britain, casting real time shadows helping to show what time of day or night it wasn't as chaotic as the Weasley's house but not as 'civilized' as the Dursleys, but better than the Barack's. It was a place Ricky was hoping beyond hope that he could stay.
Ricky's room was a medium sized room with antique furniture, an empty bookshelf, and a queen sized bed. On the bed, there was a pair of pajamas.
"We can decorate the room however you like tomorrow and we will go to Diagon Alley to buy you clothes after we go pick up James," Fleamont said.
All Ricky could think to say was, "Thank you."
"We want you to feel welcome here, Ricky," Euphemia said, looking for his a reaction.
He smiled at her, and said again, "Thank you."
She smiled and then took a hesitant step towards him, "Good night, Ricky."
Ricky even more hesitantly stepped closer and offered her a hug.
Her arms were the safest place Ricky had ever known. Fleamont from behind his wife hugged both of them.
Surely, this is what home must feel like t
right? gosh since when did he become such an emotional wreck?
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