Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
WARNING: This story, if continued is likely to contain corporal punishment of a de-aged minor. I don't know yet. Me, and hence my characters are rather queasy about it. But maybe don't read it if it's a no no for you.
A/N: I personally think it's a fun concept and I'd like to give it a go! I am posting it rather prematurely as a motivation for myself to continue writing this.
All reviews are welcome. Trolls are not reviews. If you got to troll, make it constructive.
A/N 2: All canon pairings.
A/N 3: A beta-reader would be nice.
"Hey, Potter! What can I help you with today?" Asked Fabia with a grandmotherly smile, but to most, it came out as an angry snare. This is because Fabia is a hag, and few are capable of understanding her kind; Auror Harry Potter was surely one of those few. Over the years, Fabia had provided the auror office with intel to put quite a few nasty witches and wizards behind bars. Fabia hardly cared about them either way, but the ministry paid her very well, her fondness for the young auror was also a rather large factor for which she helped the ministry to their job. The two of them had a relationship which could almost be called friendship. Fabia could also gauge that today her handler was very disturbed under his blank expressions.
"Evening Fabia, any news on Yaxley?" he asked, seemingly nonchalant. Something was wrong. Fabia had worked hard and got the exact location of the menace, all the Aurors had to do was raid the place and capture him. Fabia had questions, but as a mere informant, she knew the answers weren't hers to know.
"No," she replied simply, "as far as I know, he'll still be where I said he would be."
Harry sighed and ran a hand through his messy fringes, "he isn't there anymore. He escaped."
"Oh. I'm sorry," said Fabia. She had not information to comment on the situation further,
"Why are you apologising?!" Harry yelled testily. It took one look from Fabia for him to deflate and continue in a calmer, yet dejected tone, "I'm the one who wasted all our hard work. And —" he grabbed the potion he collected every time he visited her and placed it on the counter for billing. Fabia thought he'd continue telling her what happened, but instead, he said, "let it be. Let me not keep you from your customers, I'll leave. Send me an owl if you hear anything."
Harry paid for the potion and placed the bottle in his robes while Fabia stared at him intently. He gave her a short nod and moved to leave the little shop in Knockturn Alley. But Fabia put a bony hand on his shoulder and stopped him—no, pulled him off his stool and towards the storage closet. She could smell a pleasant scent of saddest and regret. Any other man would have been easy prey for reproduction. At eighty-nine, Fabia was at the prime of her age, and Harry had no concept of mistrusting his 'friends'. As gullible as Fabia found Harry to be, she knew it's unlikely she would betray him. Harry was special, he was kind. All Fabia wanted to do for him was take the hurt away. (Also, she had no desire to meet the feisty Lady Potter in a circumstance where she hunted her down for mating with her husband.)
"Tell me," Fabia demanded.
Harry hesitated for a moment but then hunched his shoulders and the words started flowing. He told her how the raid went badly, really badly. An auror trainee under his command died. Of course, it was because the young man was trying to show-off, but there should have been a way to prevent it. He was in charge, this was on him.
Fabia's heart went out for the young human. The guilt and regret were clear as day. There was only one thing that could help, and she just had a bottle full of it.
The walls of the small storage closet were lined with unmarked potions, no one in their right mind would try to use them, for no one could tell what they were used for. But Fabia knew exactly what she wanted and where it was. She pushed aside the flasks in the first and second row to find a corked bottle at the back. It shone bright with a silvery purple liquid. Yes, it was probably something she could charge someone a lot of money for, after all, her mother had prepared it and had left no notes for replication. It was one of a kind, and so was Harry Potter. He deserved the redemption it offered, and he had a lot of people in his life to help him achieve it.
"Do you trust me with your life?" she asked Harry, who was looking at her curiously as she picked up the potion and bought it towards him.
"I trust your intent well of course—"
"It's a yes or no question Potter, just answer it."
"Yes." Fabia was uncharacteristically touched to notice that there was little hesitation.
"Good." She replied. "Take two days leave from work, or wait for the weekend. I suggest the former of course, it's most effective when your feelings are fresh. Have your wife or someone else you know and respect with you and take the potion, bottoms up—" Harry started to speak, but Fabia stopped him by gesturing with her hand, "—think about what you would like redemption for when you gulp it down, this is very important! I can't tell you anymore, further instructions would be available on a parchment in the bottle, you would find it only after you finish drinking it. Do exactly as I said, or else you would waste a very valuable potion whose recipe is lost to time." She said handing the bottle to Harry.
He peered at it curiously but wisely refrained from asking questions.
"Should you be giving it away if the recipe is lost? Are you sure you want me to have it?"
"Yes, and yes. It's very effective. I used it myself when my mother was alive."
Fabia grimaced for real, "If I take payment for this, I would bankrupt you, Potter; it's that priceless. But I have no desire or need for money beyond what is required to live out the rest of my years. Consider it a gift from an old hag, a thank you for your friendship."