Harry was very much enjoying his ice cream sundae. It was a ridiculous thing made of six different flavors and way too many toppings. Looking at it made Alabasandria's teeth hurt. But her new ward was pleased with it, and he hadn't burst into tears since the horcrux, so it was a good use of her money.
The rituals had restored Harry's energy and health. Once the intensity of them had faded, Harry had been left quite hyper. Despite having ventured into Diagon already, the boy was still just as curious and wanted to go into every single store and he had started jumping up and down with excitement when they finally made it to the ice cream parlor.
As she kept repeating to herself over and over, she really did not understand children.
Now, necromancy? That was easy.
But there was the fact she couldn't grasp and that was that her apprentice was a very small child when they were typically at least past school-aged. Before Harry, her youngest apprentice had been twenty-something, and that one had not lasted because of his youthful arrogance. It wasn't done. It was absurd.
And legally she was his guardian. Basically his mother. Her, a mother! Had Alabasandria ever interacted with a child before? She was pretty sure the answer was no. Not in a few hundred years at least.
Many differences between mentoring an adult versus a six-year-old had already made themselves known. None of her other apprentices had cried so much. At least there was some confidence to be had in that she'd successfully calmed the child with ice cream. Harry appeared to be perfectly fine now and not at all traumatized.
Harry poked and prodded at his new tattoos - the first being a bracelet of Celtic runes above his elbow, a strong protective band that would prevent him from being affected by Death-touched creatures like Grimms or Dementors; the second tattoo was a small skull situated just above the band, a mark designating his first kill and successful ritual.
"Roll your sleeves down, Harry. Don't ogle them in public. People will find it strange for a young child to be marked so." The child shot her a sheepish look and pushed the hem of his robe back over the marks. "Would you like to go to the bookstore next?" she suggested. Perhaps there were some educational guides she could read. Alabasandria was very old. It was not often that she encountered a new experience, a subject she had not long since mastered. She had no idea how to care for a young kid, and that meant it was time for research. Alabasandria did not do things half-assed.
"You… you do know how to read, correct? And you're toilet-trained and all that?" She faltered.
Harry gave her a very confused look.
"Yes, I can do those things. I'm not a baby." She sighed in relief. Will of the gods or not, she was not changing diapers. She was supposed to be teaching him to raise the dead, not his numbers!
At the bookstore, Alabasandria found a book on parenting while Harry wandered around the aisles unsupervised.
The contents of the book were some of the most horrifying things she'd ever read, and Alabasandria liked to read about brain-rotting curses. There were a lot of ways you could mess up parenting. And Harry was still young enough to be permanently traumatized.
"Social skills? Morgana help me, how am I supposed to find him friends? I don't have time for that!" She flipped through the book in rising horror. It turned out children Harry's age were only able to read picture books, barely knew numbers, and were generally quite stupid and were absolutely not supposed to be left alone with anything dangerous. Child rearing sounded much more complex than she'd expected.
"First-time mother?" asked a whispery voice. Looking up, she was greeted by a blond woman wearing earrings of little cabbages. At her side was a very small blond girl wearing overalls that resembled a spotted cow, complete with a hood with sewn-on ears. "Luna's just turned six," the woman explained. "How old is yours?"
"He's not my kid, I'm just watching him. But he's six. Oh! I left him alone in the store. The book says you aren't supposed to do that." Damn. She'd already messed up. What if he had gotten a hold of a knife or poison or had become traumatized by something!?
"I'm over here," Harry said, appearing from another aisle with a few brightly colored children's books curled tightly to his chest. "Can I buy a book, please?" She was pleased that he had not managed to explode or cry or whatever children did, and was still looking happy and hopeful as he clutched his books.
"Hello!" Said the blond child, her voice was extremely high-pitched and energetic. "I'm Luna. Would you like to be friends?"
Harry looked very confused by the invitation. Alabasandria nodded over the blondes' heads. Social skills were essential to being a well-adjusted adult, the book said. Being the most introverted of introverts, she was hardly the proper person to teach him social skills, so they could not turn away the first people to offer.
"Ok," he said, his face perking up. "I'm Harry."