The time that is given us   von Gepo
                          (How love can change lives)
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                           Kapitel 2: Second chapter
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Harry thanked his memory for his ability to memorise files. With all his
training in recalling obscure information he had no problem recalling the name
“Wool's Orphanage” in London. Being a rich man, he sent a courier to inquire
about adopting a kid with instructions to wait for a written reply. It was much
like sending an owl, just the Muggle way, and a lot more impressive. Especially
since an owl could not tell tales about him while a human courier could.
Margret was ecstatic at the thought of a having a kid in the house. His
impression that she might be lonely seemed not too far from the truth. He smiled
as she rambled on about how to decorate a room for the child, the dresses she
could sew for a girl, the toys she could buy for a boy. He interrupted by
telling her it would most likely be a boy, explaining that he wanted an heir.
“A boy, of course, Sir.” Her smile dimmed a bit. “If I may ask … do you
also plan on marrying?”
“Not especially, no.” Which was strange, and Margret would not be the last
to say so if he did not offer her an explanation. “I was in love once … very
much so. But she passed away and since then, I have had no interest in any other
woman. By now I doubt I ever will.”
“Oh, I am most sorry, Sir. I did not want to bring up painful memories.” She
lowered her head. “Though I have to admit that I did not … no, let me
rephrase that. I never saw much of a romantic side of you, Sir.”
“That might be because I tend not to talk about the topic of romance.” He
nodded to her. “So let us bury the topic again and talk about the coming of my
heir. Seeing as I lack a wife, do you feel up to the task of acting as his
female role model?”
“Me, Sir?” Her eyes widened. “You mean … as his mother?”
“As a motherly figure at least. You are still a servant in this household but
I don't want the boy spoiled, so I don't think the boy should see you as such. I
would like you in a caring but also parental position in regards to him” God,
when had he begun to sound so formal? Having only Albus, the mayor and other
gentleman of the highest social class as acquaintances certainly had done a
number on him.
“Like a nanny?” Her smile indicated she liked the sound of that.
“Yes, a nanny.” Harry nodded and smiled. “I want him to get all the love
he can get but also to learn the rules of society. If one of us has to scold
him, I want him to have another person he can go to.” But not a mother. The
mother of his children would always be Ginny, no matter the era or the children.
And he did not want to fight with Margret when it came to parenting.
“So I am allowed to scold him if I think the situation merits it?” She
asked.
“Of course. Even though I would prefer if you came to me in larger matters
like stealing, fire setting  or whatever else he might come up with.”
“Mister Horton! Why would a beloved child do that?” She seemed horrified.
“Because he first needs to learn that he is loved and we need to learn to love
him. Until he feels safe with us, he might do things we do not approve of.” At
least that was what he expected from Tom. Harry imagined what he would have done
if he had suddenly been adopted at the age of six – he would have raided the
kitchen and hidden food in his rooms.
“I see you have put quite some thought in this.” Her cheeks coloured. “I
hope I can live up to your expectations.”
“As long as you open your heart to him, I am sure we will be fine.” He
smiled at her and reminded himself that she was at least twenty years younger
than him. He did not even know how old she was exactly. “Do you have younger
siblings?”
“Two brothers, Sir” She looked up, pride shining in her eyes. “One is
eleven, the other is eight. I helped with both.”
“Then I guess you know what to expect.” He smiled with one corner of the
mouth. “I am expecting general mayhem.”
“The beginning will be hard, I guess?” She smiled while he nodded. “We
will give the boy a home.”
“Yes, we will...” Harry said mostly to himself.

The orphanage was ecstatic to sell a kid to him. At least their reply sounded a
lot like it; telling him about suitable kids and asking for “ a kind donation
to our most devoted institute” at the same time was audacious, but he expected
it in these times. Orphanages were mostly poor and depended upon the pity (or
piety in some cases) of wealthy women. Often there was no running water even
though London's sewer systems were nearly a hundred years old by now, and the
little ones were the first to die of the still raging infectious diseases. Food
was scarce; whenever the country had a bad crop  children stole to survive.
Wool's Orphanage was a prime example of those badly kept homes from which no kid
was ever adopted away. The building, the kids and even some of their caretakers
were nothing short of filthy. Clothes and rooms were passed down from one kid to
the next until they were unusable. The orphanage was located near the Thames and
most of it's rooms were damp, even though kids must have lived in them for
decades by now. Harry expected the roof to be broken and was not disappointed
when the nun in charge showed him around. Mould could be found on most walls and
a lot of the children seemed to be constantly coughing.
“Twenty-six boys and eight girls reside with us, ranging in age from four to
thirteen. Brea, our oldest girl, would make a good maidservant if you would like
to consider taking more than one. She is old enough to hold a job even if you do
not adopt her. We are just glad to see our children settled into good homes,
whatever their position might be.”
Harry sighed soundlessly. He could see why the nun – Sister Isolda – was set
on foisting off as many orphans as possible on him. This building was as
decrepit as could be and fewer mouths to feed would leave some money for
renovations.
“You may introduce the boys raging from four to eight to me as well as your
oldest girls. My housekeeper Margret would not refuse more hands.” How many
could he sensibly take with him? “I also plan to open a sewing factory, so I
will speak with all girls and boys adept at that.”
It seemed cruel to actually consider child labor, but it was still thirty years
before that would be forbidden in this country. Whenever given a chance, every
orphan would take a job. If he were to school one boy, he could as well teach a
bunch of children and have the others work in the afternoon. That was still
better than living in this hellhole.
“That sounds lovely.” The nun actually smiled. “The last years have been
hard. This country is still suffering from the Great War and these children
seldom have something good happen to them. We cannot even provide them with a
roof and food. There is increasing talk of closing this orphanage but where
would the children go? Please take as many of them as you can manage.”
“Bring needle and thread, I will test them all for suitability.” He could
not take everyone but a few of them would most likely not be a burden. He spent
the next hour judging the needle-work of all thirty-seven children – Tom
included – and picked three girls and a boy as suitable. He also told the nun
that he would take Tom as his adopted son, claiming the boy had impressed him
with his sharp mind.
In truth they had not even spoken a word. Tom was an introverted kid, simply
following the nun's orders without much resistance. He looked much like all the
others – scrawny, broken down and hopeless. None of the five children seemed
to have much opinion about coming with him. Being told that he had work for them
and that they would be provided clothes, food and a bed seemed enough for all of
them to pack up their belongings and follow him to his car. None seemed excited
but they also did not seem to mind leaving this place much. The two oldest girls
eyed him warily and exchanged a look, but followed him nonetheless. He seemed to
have passed their test, whatever that might have been.
He instructed the oldest – Brea – to hold Tom on her lap on the drive. She
made no complaint, so whatever personality Tom had, it was not completely
repulsive. The other three he sat in the back of the car: Mary and Helen were
both eleven years old while Richard was twelve. He thought about asking them
some questions but decided against it, so that they spent the six hour ride in
silence. Tom and Helen both dozed off after some hours. They arrived back in
Bath two hours short of nightfall, so they would have plenty of time to settle
in.

Margret seemed to have heard the car – or waited at a window, who knew? –
and came out when he parked in front of the manor. He ushered all the children
out, before he drove the car to the stable, where it would be safe from the
weather, since garages hadn't been invented yet. When he came back, Margret
seemed to have introduced herself to everyone and to have learned all their
names.
“Welcome back, Sir” She greeted him again. “May I ask how the one child
you wanted to adopt turned into five kids standing before me?” An amused smile
graced her lips.
“I'll explain in a minute. Let's show all of them the kitchen and offer them
something to drink and eat first.” That got him a thankful smile from two of
the girls. Brea carried Tom who was still sleeping. He began explaining the
general layout as he led them to the back of the house.
While the kids – including an awakened and grumpy Tom – filled their bellies
with milk, bread and cheese, Harry began his explanation to Margret: “I
adopted Tom as my son, that is the young boy over there. The others have
followed me of their own free will. I plan to open a sewing factory. Until I
have made all the arrangements, I would like you to give them work in the
household.”
“I certainly won't complain about helping hands. So you four will get your
work from me come tomorrow. Four kids … if the weather is fair, you can begin
with the garden. Since we've gone without a gardener for quite a while now,
there is a lot of work to do. Have any of you ever done gardening?” All of
them, Tom included, shook their heads. “Oh well, you will learn a lot of
useful skills then.” She turned to him. “We have two rooms for maids and
servants but each has only two beds. Tom will have his own room, of course, but
what about the other boy? Where can we put him?”
“Is there another room we could use?” He recalled his tour but only came up
with guestrooms far away from the servant's wing.
“There is the gardener's shack but it is not well maintained. The scrawny
thing will catch his death out there.” They both looked at Richard, who in
turn watched them with a questioning gaze.
“I guess I should have the carpenters repair the old one then. Until then, he
can have a guestroom.”
“But what if there are actual guests? Are you sure?”
“I am not expecting anyone in the next month, so do not fret.” He smiled
gently at her. “It is a temporary solution. Certainly better than having him
sleep on the floor somewhere.”
“True enough.” She shook her head in exasperation. “Well, boy, you just
earned a real feather bed for a month just for being male.”
“Do I hear jealousy in your voice?” Well, she was something like a head maid
now and he had just given one of her underlings much better quarters than hers.
But he could not have a boy and a girl together in a room. How else to solve
that?
“Just for a moment.” Her smile surfaced again. “Sorry, Sir, that was
immature.”
“You are still young yourself.” He let his gaze wander over the multitude of
kids in the room. “Brea, what education did you receive at the orphanage? Can
you read and write?”
“Yes, Sir” She straightened up. “We four had three or four years of
schooling. We can read, write and do sums.”
“Very good” Harry nodded. “In that case, I will first only teach Tom. As
soon as he has reached your level of schooling, I will teach all of you.
Margret, I would like you to attend lessons with Tom, so you can help him with
homework if needed.” That way she could learn herself, without exposing her
ignorance.
“Of course, Sir” She actually curtsied. She had never before curtsied. Was
that a bad sign? No, she actually seemed thankful. Well, schooling meant you
were able to get better jobs.
“I think instead of beginning with the gardening, we should all go into town
tomorrow. You kids need some new clothes. I'll ask the seamstress to teach you a
few basics. I wanted to speak to her anyway. After that, I guess we'll need to
buy a lot more food, right?”
“Oh yes” Margret sighed. “These five growing kids will clean out our
pantry in no time at all.”
“Have all of them wash themselves in the morning. And please check them all
for fleas and the like.”
“Yes, Sir.” She sighed deeply. Well, they knew what was coming, they had
talked about it beforehand.
“Tom, I'll show you to your new room. Richard, come with me as well.”
Both boys followed him without being asked twice. They might be dirty and thin
as twigs, but the nuns had drilled obedience into them. He gave Richard the
first of the guest rooms and took Tom to the one Margret had prepared with a
six-year-old in mind. If Harry remembered correctly, the boy would turn six this
winter.
“This will be your room from now on, Tom.” He stepped aside so that the boy
might enter.
“Mine?” The little one looked completely floored when he saw a feather bed,
a dresser, a writing desk and an empty bookshelf.
“Yours alone.” Harry knealed next to him and put a hand on his tiny
shoulder. “I expect you to study hard to become worthy of living in such a
room. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir” The boy looked at him with fearful eyes.
“Good” He smiled. “Since we were expecting you, we've already bought you
some clothes. Let's wash you up and change you into your pyjamas.”
“Pyjamas?” Tom spoke the word slowly and deliberately.
“Nightclothes. You have your own wardrobe now. You already own some trousers
and shirts. We will add formal wear when you have grown a bit.”
“Thank you, Sir” The little boy still looked stunned but he knew his
manners. Harry was simply astonished, he had not expected such behaviour. He
remembered James at that age … oh well. He set to helping the boy but Tom
seemed mostly self-sufficient. Harry checked him for parasites himself and found
lice. At least it was only lice. No strange boils or wounds on the kid, that was
good to know. He tucked him in and went to bed, absently scratching his own
head.

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