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!?"