For Every Star in the Sky

Chapter 2

The Price of Freedom

Petunia had waited only long enough for the last flower to be laid on the mound on fresh earth, before press-ganging the priest into looking after Dudley for a while and dragging me to a different part of London.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

Petunia pursed her lips and looked at me as if I were making her do something dirty. "The Wizarding World." She said. The lady next to us on the bus, looked at her a bit strangely.

My first glimpse of the wizarding world was a grimy looking building on Charing Cross Road.. It seemed very out of place squished in between the modern looking bookshop and record store. Its red victorian brickwork and many tiny windows gave it a quirky look. We both stood staring at the building for a moment. The bronze lettering above the door read 'The Leaky Cauldron' and the wooden sign hanging from iron brackets, depicted a green frothing mixture in a fire-warmed bowl.

I was starting to think Petunia had gone batty with the stress of the funeral and her illness. I glanced at her nervously, only to catch her looking away from me swiftly.

"What's wrong?", I asked, watching her intently. I was gettign an odd feeling of both excitement and foreboding. What were we doing here all alone in an unknown part of London, looking at a shabby pub.

She looked up at me sharply for a moment, then fussed with her handbag and grabbed my arm. "Nothing," She said, although she had a strange look on her face, somewhere between terror, anger and guilt.

In a few short strides I was being swept into the building, across a dark-looking room, past a large stair-case, some tables, and a fireplace, then right out the back door into a courtyard. Petunia marched me straight up to the brick wall, which towered far her head. Without looking at me she said, "Put the lid on the dustbin."

I stood there bewildered, wondering if I should go back into the pub and ask for help, maybe they would fetch a doctor. Noticing my hesitation, Petunia turned to me white-faced. "Do it!" She yelled.

I jumped, and automatically took a step back. My foot collided with the dustbin lid making a jangling sound. Hesitantly, I picked it up and placed it on the half-full bin.

Suddenly, a lady appeared wearing a black dress and white pinafore. She looked at me then at Petunia. "Nice weather today." She said.

Petunia didn't even bother to look at her. "Tom says we're expecting snow." She replied in a monochrome voice.

I looked at the Lady then at my Aunt. What was going on. The lady didn't look at all disturbed by the forecast of snow in September. She stepped foreword withdrew a piece of wood from her waistband and tapped several warn-looking bricks. The bricks made a groaning sound and the began to rumble and shift. For a panicked moment I thought the wall was going to fall down on us and I let out a started yelp. But, to my amazement, the bricks continued to re-arrange themselves without a single one falling to the ground. Eventually a doorway formed revealing a bustling street or cobbled stones, victorian brickwork and wooden beams. Petunia grabbed my forearm again and roughly frog-marched me through.

The lady in the pinafore, grumbled something about being ungrateful and by the time i'd recovered from my astonishment to reply with the customary thank you, the doorway had shifted back into its original solid wall.

Petunia dragged me passed various shops and buildings, and people in funny clothes until we reached a great blue building marked 'Central Floo Building', next to a magnificent white building, 'Gringotts'. Here she made me step into a magical green fire and say clearly 'Eos Floo', a few moments later I found myself spat out into another, similar 'Floo' building, this time, apparently in a completely different district of wizarding London.

I was bursting with questions by this point, but had the good sense to keep quiet. Petunia didn't say a word at my astonished face and roughly dusted the soot off me and pulled me out of the building into a magnificent heptagon shaped court. For years, I would stop and stare at it as the sun rose on my way to the academy for lessons. The great white marble statue of a unicorn stood in the centre with cascades of water flowing down its rearing body. Directly across from the Floo building, was the 'Pegasus Academy' its great roman columns leading towards the entrance, a flying statue magically suspended above its rooftop. All around the court are a number of other impressive and important buildings including the Lughna Theatre, were all the greatest Artisan's had performed. Obviously, at the time I didn't know this. All I knew was that the old lady I had met that morning was right, magic did exist.

I was completely dumbfounded and couldn't stop staring at the way the water fell from the top of the unicorns shoulders but didn't actually touch the ground, it just disappeared into mid-air. Petunia just dragged me to what I later found out was the S.C.A.R.A.B (Single Central Artisan Registration Authority Building). Here I was made to wait quietly, as Petunia filled out papers and various people came over to exclaim over me and peer at the scar on my forehead, which I found very unnerving. I couldn't stop my gaze wondering to all the strangely dressed people coming and going. Most wore what I took to be dresses, even the men. One or two wore very pointy hats, like cartoon witches, but it was not these people that astonished me the most, it was the beautiful ones.

Occasionally, a person would walk past in the most elaborately embroidered clothes I had ever seen, with long hair braided up in fancy styles with delicate gold ornaments in their hair. Their forearms and parts of their face hand amazing intricate decorations painted onto them. Their eyes were the most amazing with plenty of dark makeup and jeweled decorations. They were all so beautiful that at first I thought they were magical female creatures, it was not until I caught two speaking to each other that I realised they were in fact men, or rather older boys. I was blown away. I had never seen a single women as beautiful as they were, let alone a boy. Something about the boys, was amazing to watch. It wasn't just their decoration, it was the way they moved and talked as if they were high in the sky and as light as a feather. I could have sat there the whole day watching the boys go about their business.

After a while, Petunia hauled me out of the seat and took me to a side door. We were then ushered down a short corridor and into a bath room. Petunia told me sternly to do everything the lady told me and then promptly disappeared. The lady looked about sixty with a warm smile and lots of grey hair. She helped me undress while a bath filled and put my clothes into a grey hamper. I watched the purple bubbles grow and pop until it was time to get in. She gave me another good scrubbing, but was much more gentle than Petunia had been and asked me lots of questions about my health and what I liked to eat and any odd things that had happened to me. I told her about the time I had ended up on the roof and the time my hair grew back over night, also a month ago when I had accidentally let the snake loose at the zoo on a school trip and what it had said. She seemed pleased and told me to get out and dry myself off.

A few minutes later a younger woman appeared in a white robe and handed the old lady a bundle of cotton. This turned out to be the one of the dresses and a small argument ensued as I tried to point out to the lady that boys weren't supposed to wear dresses. I quickly learned that they were robes, not dresses, and most magical people wore a form of robe no matter what gender they were. It was the word 'magic' that finally got me into them.

The robes were plain cotton with an emblem of a unicorn on the right and had two layers. The under layer was a kind of jump suit of light blue with a high neck line, no sleeves and lots of buttons down to the shorts. The outer layer was white and the sleeves were short, exposing most of my arms. The hem came down just below my knees. The neck was V shaped, exposing the light blue underneath and a silk blue sash held the outer robe together at the waist. Once the old lady had looked me over thoroughly and tutted at my unruly hair several times, she pronounced me done and took me into another hall way where a line of other young boys stood in the same blue and white robes.

"Now listen to me closely, Harry." She told me sternly, but kindly. "When your name is called, you're going to go through that door and walk into the middle of the stage facing the man in the white robe. Answer all the questions and do exactly what you're asked to, Okay?"

I nodded, nervously. I didn't know what was about to happen, but I knew it was something big, and something to do with magic.

"Good," she nodded. "Don't speak unless you're spoken to. Also, there might be a lot of camera's, word must have gotten around that you're going to be here. Just try and ignore them, Okay?"

She didn't wait for me to answer, instead she lent forward and kissed my forehead. "Good luck, Harry Potter."

One after the other, the boys disappeared into the room. Occasionally, I caught a glimpse of colour or sound of clapping as the door opened and shut, but I was in no way prepared for what happened when my name was called out.

A servant opened the door and ushered me through, I didn't even have time to say thank you to the old lady. The next thing I knew the door had closed behind me and a brilliant flash of light blinded me. The noise too, was deafening. I blinked, but every time my sight came back another flash would blind me and so I stumbled forward and nearly fell until a loud bell rang and the flashing and noise subsided long enough for me to get my bearings. It was then I realised I was in a circular room with a stage in the middle and tiered seats reaching nearly to the ceiling. Not a single space was empty. In fact some rows were so packed, they made the audience look like sardines. That's what I realised they were...an audience, and for some reason I was what they were watching. The flashes I then realised were from hundreds of cameras of people positioned right next to the door, like they had been waiting for my entrance.

Remembering what the old lady had said, I tried to ignore them and looked toward the stage. There was a slightly raised bit on one side with a elderly man in a silk white robe standing on it. I made my way forward and stood in front of him. He smiled down at me.

"What is your name, please?" He asked me. I noticed a man next to him in another white robe with what looked like a piece of old yellow paper and a feather staring at me. I smiled back nervously.

"Harry Potter." I replied. The words were barely out of my mouth and there was an uproar again until the bell sounded. The elderly man did not seem perturbed, he smiled at me encouragingly.

"Your full name please?" He inquired.

"Harry James Potter." I replied.

There was a shout somewhere from the back of the hall. I turned my head to see an very elderly man with a huge purple pointy hat and a very long white beard stand up. The man in black to his right, with shoulder length black hair, said something to him. He was scowling deeply. An elderly lady with tight-looking lips, who also wore a pointy hat sat to his other side and shook her head in disbelief.

The white man on the stage with me frowned, but nodded to the old man. "Headmaster Dumbledore, you have something to say before the auction begins?"

The man,who was apparently a teacher looked furious. "This is a farce!" He announced. "You cannot simply auction off Harry Potter. He's been raised with his muggle relatives. The poor boy probably doesn't even know whats going on. Not to mention that you require the proper permission and add to that it was his parents dying wish to have the boy properly educated at Hogwarts to become a wizard!"

My ears pricked up at that, had he just said learn to become a wizard? The white man, however seemed most offended and apparently so did half of the audience, although there were plenty of 'here, here's' for the teacher's outburst too.

"First, Headmaster Dumbledore I resent the implication that there is anything improper about the magical education that the boy will be receiving, undoubtedly, he will secure a place at one of the best establishments in the world." The man replied, he continued in a dangerous voice, "Unless, you are inferring that the title he will gain will be in some way inferior to that of a wizard?"

Dumbledore shook his head and was about to speak, but the white man cut him off.

"As for proper permission then I can assure you we have all the correct signed paperwork form Mr. Potter's guardian, his Aunt, Petunia Dursley. While Mr. Potter's parents may have expressed a wish for him to attend Hogwarts, it is Mrs. Dursley, and only her, who has the right to choose his future . I'm sure his parents would be very proud to see their son become such an important and revered part of society. In fact, it is a well known tradition for orphans such as Mr. Potter to enter into this status and if Mr. Potter was not so famous, i'm sure we would not even be having this conversation. If you have any further queries?" The white man seemed inpatient now.

The headmaster seemed very sad all of a sudden. "It seems that if what you say is true and if this is truly Mrs. Dursley's wish, then I cannot interfere as the law permits it."

Finally, the white man turned back to me. "Mr. Potter, do you understand what's happening?" he asked.

I shook my head.

He sighed, as if it pained him somehow. "Mr. Potter, you are here to be auctioned off to an Artisan House where you will train to become an Artisan, to privately entertain and perform the many magical arts that have been passed down through generations of tradition. You will belong to that House until you repay your debts to them, then you will be free to continue your career as you please." He looked at me closely, "Do you understand?"

I looked at him completely confused. I was being sold, that much I understood. Did my Aunt hate me that much? I would train in magical arts...that sounded good. I didn't understand what an Artisan was though, but I couldn't help but think of those beautiful men when he said that word. How I wished I could be one of them. Slowly I nodded. The white man didn't look convinced, but nodded and straightened up.

"We will proceed." He said. He asked me a few more questions such as my age, to which I replied nine, and my 'magic'. Most of the questions were similar to the old lady's and I found it easy to answer now I understood what he wanted to know. After a while a great blue orb was brought in and I was asked to put my hands on it to 'measure my power'. Next, I was put on some scales and weighed. Then a snake was bought in and I was asked to talk to it. I did and there was another uproar, mostly from the people in pointed hats. The bell sounded again, when one woman would not be quiet, she was swiftly removed by two men. Finally, the white man nodded and looked up at the audience. "The bidding will commence." He announced.

A pretty woman, not long out of her teens and in the same white robe took my had and walked me slowly around the platform, telling me to look up at the audience and show them my pretty eyes. As we walked the white man started shouting out things I couldn't understand. He was spoke very quickly, saying many different numbers, always increasing. People in the audience waved their hands or bowed to the white man, while others simply leaned over the barrier to peer at my eyes and forehead. Some tried to reach out and touch me, but the girl drew me away from them. When we passed the back of the room I looked up at the Headmaster Dumbledore and he looked down at me sadly. I couldn't look at him for too long without feeling ashamed for some reason, so instead I let my gaze shift to the scowling man next to him which seemed a safer option. The dark haired man was looking down but as he looked up our eyes met and I felt a jolt run through my body, soft of like electricity and my scar started tingling. While my eyes were a brilliant green, his were a deep onyx, like a precious gem. As the scowl left his face, I thought he looked fairly handsome if somewhat unkempt. I was both relieved and disappointed when I had to walk forward breaking the eye contact.

Within a few minutes, the bidding was over and I was made to stand for a moment by the auctioneer and a woman called Mrs. Pendragon, who had apparently bought me, while the cameras blinded me again. Then I was swiftly ushered back out the door by the young woman who handed me back over to old woman.

"Dear me," She said looking me over. "You look a little shocked, you were in there an awfully long time. Well...what did you make and who bought you?"

I stammered, trying to get my thoughts together. "Erm...Mrs. Pendragon, only I don't know how much for."

The old lady seemed pleased. "Mrs. Pendragon is the Mistress of one of the best Artisan Houses in London. I'll bet she paid a lot for you. Not only are you famous, but those lovely eyes and hair are so unique."

I was taken to a large, white building two streets away called 'The House of Pendragon' where I was greeted by many people, including 'house elves', whose big ears and large eyes made me gasp. I asked repeatedly about magic and what an Artisan was and where I was, and even where my Aunt was, but I couldn't seem to get any answers. Despite this, I couldn't bring myself to be too concerned. The whole place seemed to have a dream-like quality, and I was almost convinced that I would wake up in our London flat at any minute to find Dudley have put slugs down my trousers again. I decided I would enjoy the dream while it lasted.

I was given another bath, which was apparently tradition, and a new set of robes, this time with sleeves to my elbow, and a hem to my mid-shins. The under-robe was a crimson red and outer-robe was black. The hem of the sleeves and the bottom of the robe had a think band of crimson around them. Instead of a unicorn, a dragon was embroidered on the left breast. Apparently this was the symbol of The House. The maid explained to me that I was to wear these except when I was sleeping and when I was at school. She also told me that they were black so the dirt wouldn't show up so much because they understood what little boys were like, but she also told me in a very severe voice that it did not mean I could get my robes dirty.

Afterwards the maid, called Tia, took me to an office where the woman from the auction sat behind a large oak desk, several rolls of yellow paper and leather bound books scattered about her. Mrs. Pendragon herself was a rather stern looking woman, who's smile made her look like someone had just trodden on her foot. She had ample amounts of rich brunette hair, which somehow didn't match the wrinkles on her face. However, despite her obvious age, she was a pretty woman and was very well-kept. The clothes she wore, although fairly plain shone like silk and she wore a few golden rings on her right hand.

"Take a seat, Harry" She said, as Tia closed the door behind me.

I did as I was told and let my eyes wonder around the room as she packed her papers away. The room was probably the size of our whole London flat. The walls were mostly lined with shelves of more leather bound books and half open trunks filled with the yellow papers. Where there was free wall space, several stunning paintings hung, mostly of the elegant boys I had seen, but the occasional one was of a building or street. The one just above Mrs. Pendragon's head was of the Unicorn statue and my eyes shifted to the window, where I could see the street that led the the real statue. Looking back to the painting I was amazed to realize the water in it was actually moving, like the real water it portrayed. Looking closely at some of the others I could see trees swaying in the wind and birds flying in the distance. The tiny figures of people on the street were even moving about too! Finally my eyes came back to one of the beautiful boys, who was even more highly decorated than those I had seen at the auction building. The boy turned his head slightly towards me and winked. I gasped in surprise.

Mrs. Pendragon cleared her throat to get my attention. "Mr. Potter, I am a business woman." She told me, "This House is a business, and you are now the property of it." Her expression seemed stern and I wondered if she was trying to scare me. However, she continued, "This House is also a family and you are now part of it, do you understand? We are now your family."

She looked at me as though she expected a reply, so I nodded, but then frowned. "What about my Aunt and Cousin?"

She told me to call her Mistress and then glanced over my head, I didn't know what she was looking at. "They are legally no longer your family. Your Aunt chose to sell you to me. Your Aunt may visit you if she wishes, but I doubt she will."

It might seem a harsh thing to tell a nine year old boy who has just been taken away from his family, but I quickly realised that everything she said, she said for a reason. Here she had been trying not to give me any false hope, and to reinforce the fact that The House was now the only family I had. Of course at the time all I could think was that Mrs. Pendragon had said nothing about me visiting them. After a moment of silence, I asked. "Mistress, Why did she sell me?"

It was a question that had been bothering me since I had first realised I was being sold. I had never much liked my Aunt, who was sour being, even before she became ill and had been very harsh to me during my childhood, but I hadn't thought she hated me enough to sell me.

Mrs. Pendragon, perhaps seeing my distress, replied. "She doesn't hate you." She looked as me closely then, explained. "It's more of a case of liking herself more." I was still confused, so she asked. "I believe your Aunt was very ill? Cancer or some such?"

I nodded. I had heard the word cancer before, I had no idea if this was what she had though. I would never find out the actual cause of her illness. In fact, I would never see her again. My memory of her in the bath room telling me to do as lady said, would be the last I would have of her.

"I believe muggle, that is to say non-magical, medical care is extremely expensive and there are many ailments that magic cannot cure. Perhaps your Aunt had no other means of raising such a large sum of cash for the treatment she required. I payed a very very large sum for you Mr. Potter, that money may save your Aunt's life."

I looked at her in surprise. The thought that I might actually be helping my Aunt and the fact that she didn't hate me, she really had no other choice, made me feel a lot better about my situation. Later in life I would realize that Mrs. Pendragon was probably just trying to be kind when she said this, as in reality, there are many other ways of raising a large sum of cash other than selling off your only nephew into a strange and foreign world. I wondered if the reason my Aunt never came to visit was because she felt guilty, or perhaps she was simply scared of the wizarding world, or maybe, I suspected, she just didn't care.

Mrs. Pendragon clicked her fingers and a house elf appeared making me jump, the house elf placed a glass of orange liquid in front of me and a cup of herbal tea in front of Mrs. Pendrgaon. She looked back up at me again, after taking a sip.

"In fact, Mr. Potter" She continued. "I bought you for 3000 Galleons, a record sum, far outbidding even the great Roma Prince in 1810."

I had no idea what a Galleon was and I had no concept of money since i'd never had any, but couldn't imagine why anyone would pay a lot of money for me. Then I remembered that I was to be trained as an Artisan and asked Mrs. Pendragon what one was.

Mrs. Pendragon smiled at me and asked me what I knew about magic and my parents, to which I replied, "Not very much."

I heard how my parents had really died, how they had been murdered by an evil wizard and how I was able to do magic like them. That made me both excited and scarred all at once. To hear that I was famous was the strangest of all and how I had lived as a baby and caused the down fall of such a great wizard. Mrs. Pendragon explained a great many things to me in the office that day, but she never really did explain to me exactly what an Artisan was.