Work Text:
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Touched
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Technically, the basement was set up for brewing potions. Also technically, the salve that Lily was making could be seen as potion-adjacent. Besides, the lab was hers and James could keep his scandalized squawking to his nights out with Sirius. The potions lab was set up with all the equipment necessary to make salves as well as to clean said equipment without risking cross contamination with regular cookware.
Only James and Sirius had any issue with Lily doing non-magical brewing in her potions lab. Peter would sometimes indulge the pair, but Lily knew for a fact that his mother had brewed in their kitchen because the cottage he had grown up in had been too small to have a dedicated space just for potions. Remus was completely on Lily's side, and not only because he was the only one of their group who had a muggle parent. Remus knew how Lily kept the kitchen both kosher and halal, but because of the nature of most potions, that was just not possible in the lab. Even as close as James was to his aunt, he wouldn't think about things like that.
"Allah knows that I love the boy," Euphemia explained as she watched Lily melt beeswax in the dedicated copper pot. Her crow daemon was perched the edge of the orange playcot tucked away into the corner. T'cha flashed the white undersides of his wings as if to emphasize his human's point. "But James is oblivious to certain things. Of course, Fleamont and Charlus are the same way. I honestly think they forget that halal is not the same as their Hindi restrictions."
Lily just hummed as she started adding the already-measured jojoba oil to the melted beeswax. Her off-hand kept her glass stirring rod moving. It took a surprising amount of attention to keep the mix from breaking. Besides, Euphemia was not going to judge her for only half paying attention to this complaint, just like Remus would not mind Lily not paying full attention while he talked about Sirius leaving wet towels on the bathroom floor.
A dark hand flashed in front of her face before retreating just as suddenly. At the same moment, Harry cried out from the playcot. Euphemia was already heading towards the infant. Instead of picking him up, the older witch dropped a purple baby snake onto his chest.
"Dixel was about to fall into the pot," Zell explained before the question could even form fully in Lily's mind. Her daemon looked bored with the commotion, barely even opening one of his eyes to look at her. "They're not actually hurt, just startled."
Sure enough, Harry was already calming down as his daemon snuggled against his neck. Lily's own heart slowed its racing pace. Turning back to the salve, she let out a low curse.
The emulsion had broken.
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Harry was frozen. He couldn't move his legs. He could barely move his face to turn his face downwards and watch Aunt Petunia through his fringe. It was always better to look down while Aunt Petunia yelled at him. If he looked up, he might make eye contact which would just make her even more angry. (Uncle Vernon and Aunt Marge were the opposite. Not making eye contact meant he wasn't listening to them, which meant more trouble.)
"Go to your cupboard," Aunt Petunia had ordered just a moment ago. But Harry was frozen and couldn't move. He knew that he needed to. His body was just not listening to him.
She stalked on him, her beady blue eyes burning with her incandescent rage. Harry swallowed hard and stopped breathing. This was it. He was going to die, just like his worthless parents. Aunt Petunia's gaze darted to the counter beside him where Harry could see his daemon sitting. Before Harry could do anything, her pale hand had grabbed up the tiny newt.
Harry bit back a startled cry at the sudden pain going through him. Aunt Petunia turned on her perfect lavender heels and stomped off. Fortunately, the bond between him and his daemon pulled him along. It was taking all of his willpower to keep from being sick.
He was pathetically grateful to tumble into the cupboard under the stairs after Aunt Petunia threw his daemon against the back wall. He curled around the weakly twitching creature as the door slammed behind him. The first tears fell as the lock snicked.
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Harry was working his way through the sheet of math equations Mrs. Cartwright had given the class. The problems were too easy, but he knew better than to mention that. Mrs. Cartwright didn't like braggarts disrupting her lessons. Mrs. Cartwright especially didn't like it when Harry acted like he knew things.
Mrs. Cartwright was a member of Aunt Petunia's bridge club. Any annoyances she built up during the school week, she shared with Aunt Petunia every Saturday afternoon. Harry did his best to not give her anything to complain about, not that it mattered because Mrs. Cartwright often blamed Dudley's behavior on Harry. And if it wasn't Dudley's behavior, then she would make something up.
A loud thud broke the quiet of the classroom at the same time that Harry felt like something was crushing him. Harry looked towards the sound. Mrs. Cartwright had one of her hands flat on her teacher's desk. He watched with vision blurred by pain and tears as she lifted her hand to reveal a half-squashed purple spider. As if in slow motion, the spider fell off of the teacher's palm. Piers Polkiss snickered meanly into the pot of glue he was dipping Mary Muchin's braid into.
Halfway to the ground, the spider transformed into a butterfly. It flew to Harry on wings that moved out of sync with each other. Harry just cradled his daemon to his chest once it had gotten close enough.
He didn't argue with his detention for his daemon disrupting the lesson. He didn't have the breath to spare for it.
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"My Samatra will be glorious when she's finally settled," the boy boasted as the seamstress worked at his feet to pin the hem of the robes. The fluffy white cat that was the boy's daemon flicked her tail from the chair she was curled up on. Harry couldn't help thinking that she looked pretty settled to him. "She's likely to be a leopard of some kind. My father's daemon is a snow leopard. Leopards run in our family."
"What about your mother?" Harry asked before he could stop himself. He sucked in a breath. Maybe his voice was quiet enough that no one would have heard him.
"Mother has a shrike," the boy answered without any malice. His tone was dismissive, though, as if the information wasn't important. Harry supposed he couldn't argue that it wasn't. "Most of her family have birds of some kind. I heard that there was a cousin whose daemon settled as a goat and they disowned him."
"That doesn't sound fair," Harry muttered. The boy (he had never introduced himself) rolled his silvery-blue eyes dramatically. He shook his head so hard that his white-blond hair flopped in each direction. Harry's heart was pounding as he raised his voice to continue. "He couldn't have controlled how his daemon settled."
"You're so going to be a Hufflepuff," the boy complained. He made a sharp gesture to dismiss the topic.
Harry opened his mouth to ask what a hufflepuff was only to have a gasp escape. Something sharp and familiar burned down his own daemon bond. A frantic squeaking drew everyone's attention to the violet mouse hanging from Samatra's mouth. She looked extremely pleased with herself. Harry felt like his knees would buckle underneath him at any moment.
"Ew," the boy announced. "Drop that, Samatra! You don't know where it's been!"
Thankfully, the cat obeyed. Harry's daemon scurried out of sight immediately. Only after the boy had swanned out while declaring that his father would hear about the infestation did the creature carefully emerge from hiding, now a small ermine with faded lilac fur. Harry whispered apologies to the shop's owner as he cuddled the recovering daemon.
It was the least he could do.
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Dee had never trusted Quirrell. Harry hadn't really argued with his daemon, just like he hadn't argued with him over wanting a name like every other daemon. Neither could remember what Dee had been called before they had been left on the doorstep of the Dursleys', but Dee had felt right enough. It had certainly felt better than the quagmire that seemed to surround Quirrell (and Snape, if Harry were to be honest).
So when Harry passed the fire with Dee perched on his shoulder, Harry was not surprised to see Quirrell muttering in front of a large mirror. Ron had been insistent that it was Snape trying to steal the Stone, and Hermione had agreed readily enough, but Harry hadn't been as certain. Dee was rarely wrong about people.
Harry was still glad that he had been forced to leave Hermione behind on the other side of the flames. Hermione and Julius wouldn't have been able to hide their fear. It would have made them hesitate too much. Ron and Imogene would have sprung into action, likely hurt themselves even worse than they had been by the chess pieces. Of their trio, Harry and Dee were the best for dealing with possible dangerous confrontations.
They could handle any pain that came with one.
At least that was what Harry had thought before being forced to watch as Quirrell dig his fingers into the neck of the monkey that Dee was currently shaped as and tighten his grip. The last thing that Harry remembered before the growing darkness of unconsciousness overtook him was Dee bursting into light and heat with a roar loud enough to be heard over the blood rushing in his ears.
When Harry woke up later, Dee was laying across his chest as a cat. Dumbledore only stopped watching the daemon when Madam Pomfrey forced him to leave so that Harry could rest.
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Harry was wandering around the Tatlings in Hogsmeade with only an idle curiosity. In theory, he and Dee were looking for a gift for Hermione. Julius had finally settled last week. The otter was the same nut brown as Hermione's hair, and had eyes the same golden-brown as Hermione's own, too. Despite being the oldest of them, Imogene had settled into a sleek fox last year. Hermione had made a big deal of getting Ron a gift to celebrate. Harry wanted to do the same thing.
Which was how he had found himself wandering from shop to shop in Hogsmeade looking for something that would work. He didn't want to outdo anything that Ron and Ginny would be able to get with the twins. Tatlings was probably not the best place for finding something cheap even if it did have fancy down pat. The shop also had an assortment of accessories for both humans and daemons.
Dee had transformed himself into a frog for their outing. At some point, he had grabbed a silver ring engraved to look like a feather to wear as a crown. Harry was careful to not move too far from his daemon. Dee's preference for small forms had made him a target too many times in the past already and with two other schools present, there were too many people around for Harry's peace of mind. But the rack of casual dresses Harry was examining was just outside of arm's reach from the counter where Dee was using a little round mirror to see how the ring looked against his bright purple spots.
"You probably shouldn't get that," someone said nearby.
Harry spun around, still holding up a scarlet dress. He flushed as he moved it as much out of sight as possible. The Black boy was just standing at the end of the counter, a raven daemon perched on his shoulder. Dee dropped the ring and leaped toward Harry, transforming into a miniature dragon before mirroring the raven's pose on Harry's shoulder. The boy shook himself.
"Apologies," he stated. His purple eyes were sincere in a way that Harry wasn't used to seeing. "I did not mean to startle you." He paused only a moment before continuing. "I only know a few people whose daemons take magical forms. Your daemon, she must be very special."
"He," Harry corrected quietly. Dee wrapped his long tail around Harry's neck. He could almost feel the daemon glaring at the boy as if daring him to say something. Harry licked his suddenly dry lips. He knew that most people had daemons of the opposite gender. He had never met anyone who matched beyond his godfather last year. The other boy gave a solemn nod. "What's wrong with the dress?"
"The dress?" the boy asked before realizing what Harry had asked. "Oh, nothing really, but there's more than a few people who would lose their minds seeing you in that shade of red." He tilted his head to the side as he gave Harry a slow look from head to toe and back again. His voice was kind as he continued. "Wearing marriage red without an announcement of betrothal is an invitation for suits. It would be pandemonium even without the international delegations present."
"Oh," Harry whispered before hastedly putting the red dress back on the rack. He gave the boy a nervous glance before pulling a white dress off the rack. "What about this one?"
"That one would like gain you much sympathy, especially at this time of year." The boy's daemon nudged his head with her wing, flashing the bridled underfeathers. "White is for death. It's primarily used for mourning."
"And Halloween is next week," Harry said, averting his eyes as if the simple dress was suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world.
"I'm Blaise Zabini," the boy suddenly offered. Harry's eyes jumped to meet his. "This is Zelda."
"Like the princess?" Harry asked before slapping both hands over his mouth. He was only saved from stabbing himself in the eye by Dee grabbing the hanger at the last moment.
The raven let out a cackle before flying over to land on the shoulder not occupied by Dee. Startled, neither boy did anything as the large daemon rubbed her head against Harry's cheek. Harry's hand shook as he raised it to brush the back of his fingers against her breast. Zelda bumped her head against his cheek harder. Harry looked desperately at Blaise, shocked to see no sign of pain on the other boy's face.
"You're not hurt?" Harry asked anxiously even as he pulled his hand away from the daemon. Blaise shook his head. A sad understanding crept into his plum purple eyes.
"It only hurts when the toucher wants it to," he explained in the same tone he had explained the colors. "Sometimes, it can hurt outside of that, but that typically involves something rough or unwanted. Zelda loves pets, though." Zelda trilled in agreement.
"Would you—" Harry swallowed hard before he could manage to continue. "I'm actually looking for a settling gift for my friend Hermione. Would you like to shop with me?"
"We would love that," Zelda answered for both of them. She flared her wings. "Now more pets."
Harry obliged.