When Paths Diverge- Divergence in Y3 - Indradanush21 - Harry Potter (2024)

Chapter 1: Potter's Field

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Harry and Cedric touched the cup at the same time. There was a jerk behind Harry’s navel and he stumbled as the spinning stopped in a quiet dark field. Knowing that this was abnormal, he quickly pushed Cedric sideways from wherever they were standing, against some hard stone. As his eyes adjusted, he realized that this was a graveyard.

“Ow,” Cedric groaned. “What was that for?” he asked, rubbing his hip.

“Shhh. Look around.” Harry motioned for Cedric to follow as they put distance between themselves and where the cup lay. “We need to keep quiet. Who knows who or what is out here.”

They moved away carefully for a mere few moments when they heard some rustling in the bushes.

“Wormtail!” a voice hissed. “Where is he!”

Harry went white as he removed a small, extendable pouch from his belt and grabbed his invisibility cloak, before throwing it over himself and Cedric.

“You have an invisibility cloak!” Cedric exclaimed in a whisper. Harry, too scared to make a sound, placed his finger in front his mouth and shook his head vigorously, indicating “not now.” He began tugging Cedric away from the cup (and from Voldemort).

“Master!” a nasally voice called. “The Triwizard cup is here.”

“Well, you imbecile, don’t touch it. He should be around here somewhere! Use your animagus form and find him! I need to complete the ritual tonight.”

There was another sound. Master, I sssmell two humansss on this cup.

Harry’s heart hammered in his chest. He began pulling Cedric away faster, thinking furiously. “Cedric,” he whispered, voice wavering. “I need you to grab the cup and get reinforcements. They know we are here.”

“Who?” Cedric whispered back, almost as frightened.

“Vol-,” Harry paused, eyes wide. He didn’t want Cedric to jump and alert Nagini, Wormtail, or Voldemort. “You-know-who. His snake just told him there are two humans here.
Cedric paled considerably and froze. “I can’t leave a 14-year-old behind.”

“They are looking for me and we are out of time. I will distract them. You take my cloak and get the cup. It shouldn’t be more than thirty feet from here” Harry took a deep breath, took the cloak off, and pushed Cedric. “Now go!” He hissed.

Harry then lay on the ground and moaned loudly; his wand hidden under his sleeves. “Ow. That cup threw me when I landed. Where is it?”

He slowly got up to his feet, making more noise than he would have but not enough to seem faked.

Meanwhile Cedric watched from a distance away, sneaking surreptitiously towards the cup.

“Wormtail, bind him!”

“Incarcerous!” A short stubby man jumped from the bushes, pointing his wand at Harry.

One Harry was bound, he emerged from the bushes carrying an ugly baby with red eyes and rotting flesh. “See Harry Potter. See what I have become. Tonight, I will take your blood and call my followers to my side. Lord Voldemort shall rise again and you shall be the first kill of my new dawn!”

At this point, Cedric had circumvented the two humans, keeping his eyes out for the snake Harry mentioned. Silent spells weren’t his strong suit. He raised his wand and silently kept summoning the cup as he moved closer to it, hoping to avoid getting bitten or alerting the snake. He felt a tug on his magic as the cup sailed towards him. Unfortunately, the snake was wrapped around it. Animals can touch portkeys without being transported!

Masster! The snake hissed as it flew, spinning through the air. Voldemort turned to see the cup flying towards them and then looked at Harry, who was in front of them. “Potter! Let my snake go or you will die!”

Cedric leapt and grabbed touched an exposed part of the portkey, hoping the snake didn’t bite him. There was a hook around his navel. Nagini, being an animal, was left hanging in the air once the portkey slipped from her clutches. All Voldemort and Wormtail saw was a disembodied hand.

“Master! That is the Potter invisibility cloak!” Wormtail shrieked. “I used to sneak around with the brat’s father and friends under it.”

Voldemort turned to Harry, who had snuck his hand into his pouch for Sirius’s penknife to cut through his ropes. “Are you really Harry Potter? Or a polyjuiced imposter?”
Harry stayed quiet, with his hands ferociously working behind his back to saw through the ropes.

“Master, whoever it was will get help! We need to complete the ritual.”

“SILENCE! I need the protection of Potter’s mother!”

“Master! We don’t have much time!”

“I said SILENCE! I need to consider this hurdle. I have been planning for months!"

Sirius’s knife cut through the ropes, and Harry slowly rolled away behind the gravestones while the two argued.
Massster! The prissssoner is esssscaping! The snake hissed in pain from the nearby field.

Harry ducked behind one of the broken headstones. Babymort pulled a wand out, but unlike Harry’s visions, he could not raise the rotting arm. “Wormtail! Go after him. I will have Nagini bring me to close him off from the other side.”

Harry needed to move. It must have been about five minutes since Cedric left. He needed to keep them busy until help arrived.

Meanwhile…
Cedric landed in the middle of the quidditch pitch to cheers and jubilation. “Our champion has returned with the cup,” Bagman spoke to the crowed, his voice amplified by the Sonorous charm.

Cedric tried bringing the attention to the problem at hand. Harry was in danger. He quickly cast a Sonorous on himself, hoping to be heard over the din and the piles of people surrounding him. “STOP! STOP!”

The crowd quieted. “Didn’t anyone think that there’re has been a time delay of about 5 minutes since when you saw Harry and I grab the cup! Harry is in trouble!”

“What nonsense are you speaking, Mr. Diggory?” Bagman asked, before looking around.

Dumbledore approached the podium. “Where is Harry?” he asked.

Cedric, without canceling his Sonorous, replied, “We were taken to a graveyard. Harry saved me and told me to get help. You-Know-Who-“
His Sonorous was cut off by a finite from Moody.
-was there with someone called Wormtail.” Cedric turned to Moody, “Why did you cancel my voice, Professor?”

“We can’t have that information leak and cause panic, Boy.”

Cedric ignored his paranoid professor and turned to Dumbledore. “We need to go now. I don’t know how long Harry has. He was tied up when I left.”

Dumbledore raised his wand, summoning the Aurors to him. “Cedric just informed me that Harry is in danger and we need to get to him.” He left the part about Voldemort out, not knowing how well that would go over. He didn’t notice fake Moody hobble towards the Forbidden Forest as he got ready. Albus knew his old ‘friend’ was being kept in a trunk for the last nine months. The idiot Death Eater was helping him shape Harry into the perfect pawn. Curious enough to dig further, but reliant on Dumbledore to save him in the end.

Too bad Diggory didn’t die to give Harry another jolt. Dumbledore could have used that pain to further bring Harry to kneel. Harry couldn’t die yet, he needed to get rid of the Horcruxes and kill Voldemort while Dumbledore watched from a safe distance. Then Dumbledore will kill him and cement himself as the new Leader of Wizarding Britain.

Albus Dumbledore rubbed his hands together, tweaking his mental chessboard to include this minor hiccup. “Can’t get ahead of myself.”

Chapter 2: Potter's Field Part 2

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Harry was ran desperately through the overgrown weeds and over the scraggly terrain trying to outpace his pursuers. Flashes of red light lit his path, helping him avoid obstacles. He crashed bodily into many of the taller gravestones, tripping over those at ankle level. I should have kept an emergency portkey with me!

Harry knew that if he had escaped with Cedric, nobody would believe him. He thought that since Wormtail and Voldemort needed him, he could reverse engineer a trap to get them caught instead and get Sirius a trial. Now, he was paying for his recklessness again. He had sore legs and ankles, bruised ribs, and a pounding headache.

The moment of distracted thought cost him dearly. He tripped over a smaller mound in his path and crashed headfirst into a larger grave. Dizzy, world-spinning, he forced himself to stand, realizing that this was much worse than any Harry Hunting Dudley had put him through. His right ankle had twisted painfully and his previous injuries from the maze were not helping.

As he regained his bearings, he saw he was back where he had started. Wormtail had used his stupefies to lure him back to the gravestone at which he was originally bound. In his recklessness Harry had forgotten that Wormtail had been a Maurader. Even though he was not as popular, Wormtail was just as smart. The thirteen years as a rat may have dulled his reflexes as a human, but Wormtail had been around magic and in a mentally stimulating environment at that time. His brains were as sharp as ever.

This time Wormtail used a silent spell to wrap ropes around Harry in a much tighter manner. Harry couldn’t reach his pouch to get the knife again; he couldn’t move any of his limbs. The more Harry struggled, the tighter the ropes became. It was in his best interest to stop moving, lest they strangle him. The helplessness grew as Nagini brought Voldemort back to the clearing. The two waited at the edges as Wormtail began chanting and adding things to the vast, blackened iron cauldron from the table next to it.

Then, as things tend to do when you are stuck, Harry’s mind began to wander. He realized that Voldemort had been calling Pettigrew “Wormtail” even though that was supposed to be a code/nickname for the Marauders. Pettigrew had essentially spat further on the Marauder legacy by allowing the murderer of two Marauders to use the name given with so much consideration and trust. At that moment, Harry resolved to never, ever call Pettigrew anything other than his given name. Harry felt his wristwatch vibrate, indicating the hour. It’s been at least ten minutes since Cedric left. I hope he comes soon with reinforcements. Sirius is going to kill me if Remus doesn’t do it first.

Pettigrew paused his chanting and looked across the clearing. A dark, cloaked figure hobbled into view on a wooden leg. Professor Moody! Harry kept silent, waiting for the rest of the reinforcements to make an appearance.

“Wormtail. Have you finished the potion for our Lord?”

Harry stared at Moody in shock. “P-Professor?” He couldn’t help but gasp.

“Ah, Potter’s awake.” He turned towards Harry. “Hello, Potter. Surprised to see me?” Moody taunted Harry. Harry didn’t respond and looked at the ground. The Dursleys had taught him silence was usually the safest option.

Pettigrew placed Babymort next to the cauldron and came close to Harry with a knife, slitting his skin from elbow to wrist, collecting the blood in a flask, before walking back to the potion . He then began chanting again as he added bones to the potion.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son. Flesh of the servant, willingly sacrificed, you will revive your master.” Pettigrew held his left hand over the cauldron, took a deep breath, and used his knife to cut his hand off into the cauldron, flinching, but steady.

“Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe." Pettigrew tipped the vial he gathered from Harry into the mix and stirred. He then placed Babymort into potion and stepped back.

Let him drown, let him die, Harry begged. Voldemort, however, emerged from the cauldron at full height. “Robe me.” Moody grabbed the robes from the table and reverently draped them over his Lord.

“Barty, show me your arm.” Moody held out the arm with the Dark Mark.

Mr. Crouch? Polyjuice? Is that why he was on the map all year? Where was the real Moody?

Harry felt his scar burn, Moody? let out a grunt of pain, and Pettigrew whimpered on the ground as he clutched his stump.

Death Eaters began apparating in droves. About fifty showed up within two minutes. With another thirty joining them within the next three minutes.

"Greetings, my lord,” many of them whispered. “Welcome back.”

“Greetings my Death Eaters. Your words fall hollow as none of you, other than Wormtail, came to find me.” The air grew colder. “However, Lord Voldemort is benevolent and rewards those loyal to him.” Voldemort picked up his wand from the table and gave Pettigrew a new red, raw, hand, made of flesh and sinew.

"Thank you, my lord.” Pettigrew whispered, kissing the hem of Voldemort’s robes.

“If I may ask, my Lord,” one of the Death Eaters spoke. “What is Moody doing here?”

“You may. This is not Moody, but one of our number who is under the Polyjuice Potion. I did not realize he was still alive and he has been my greatest asset in bringing Potter here. I will not divulge his name, as his anonymity has gotten me a most cherished prize.”

Voldemort walked over to Harry. “Behold. The protection of Potter’s Mudblood mother runs in my veins as well. I can touch the boy now without consequences.” He touched Harry’s face to prove his point. Harry’s blood ran cold and hot at once. Shock that Voldemort could touch him and anger at the way he talked about his mother.

“The wizarding world said a mere baby could bring down the great Lord Voldemort. Let me show to you in a duel that this is a mere fantasy. Magical trickery by Dumbledore bought him time, but this boy will meet his downfall here.”

Voldemort untied Harry and handed his wand back to him. “Has anyone taught you to duel Potter?”

Harry was mum but he knew he was royally screwed as he clenched his hand around his wand. He had never apparated in his life (unless you count the time when he was found on the roof away from Dudley’s gang). He didn’t have a portkey, He would be stupefied before he could reach his broom and used his want to resize it. Used his wand…to…. It hit Harry like a train wreck. He had to wait for the most appropriate time.

“Answer me Potter! Imperio!”

Harry fought the fluffy, floaty feeling in his head and shook his head.

“You dare refuse your betters! Bow to Lord Voldemort.” He cast some silent spell at Harry, causing him to bend his head.

"Now we duel. Crucio!”

Harry jumped out of the way and rolled behind a gravestone.

“Hiding are we, Potter? Are you a coward? Bombarda!”

The gravestone behind Harry shattered, large chunks narrowly avoiding the rolling Seeker. Smaller shrapnel tore through his clothes. Harry got to his feet and turned around. “Wingardium Leviosa!”

Multiple shards rocketed into the air and towards Voldemort, as Harry continued to hobble slowly away. He needed his transport to be able to lead him out of here, not get stuck here in the process.

“Crucio!”

This time Harry couldn’t dodge. It felt like a thousand skewers pierced his body. It was as if Aunt Petunia put his whole body on the stove, instead of his hand when he was five. Harry began screaming and he didn’t know for how long.

The pain stopped suddenly as a wand-fire began coming from where Harry and Cedric had originally landed.

Reinforcements! Finally! Instead of waiting for himself to get injured or caught up in the ensuing battle, Harry used the distraction to stick out his wand.

The Knight Bus appeared in all of its purple, two-decker glory.

“Welcome aboard-“ Stan Shunpike began.

“Not the time Stan!” Harry yelled as he barreled into the bus. “Close the doors and lets leave before anyone of us dies!”

Ernie, not waiting for Stan to process what was going on, closed the door and did just that. As the bus bounded away. Harry let out a shaky breath.

“How much to Hogwarts?” he asked a white-face Stan.

“Normally, it would be about 10 galleons, but…” Stan trailed off.

“Understandable. How about I make it 30 for the inconvenience?” This would wipe his savings for the last two months, but it was the least he could do for putting the two of them in such a situation.

“Deal!” Earnie barked from the wheel.

Chapter 3: Flashbacks begin

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Harry had the Knight Bus drop him off at the front gates of the castle, the closest they could get to Hogwarts. During the ride, he had tried to stem the blood flow from his wounds the best he could, but healing was not his strong suit.

Once they were out of sight, Harry took out his Firebolt, resized it and raced to the Forbidden Forest. He had not trusted Madam Pomphrey with his health since his third year. The Centaurs had told him how much she had missed in treating his wounds and he had been conferring with them instead.

Harry was feeling woozy as he pushed his broom as hard as he could. Time was becoming inconsequential, and he was having trouble focusing. He realized that he lost more blood than he thought and hoped that he could reach a centaur village before he fainted. He could see the trees thinning ahead and began to descend into the forest. He stumbled off his broom near the gates of the village and knew no more.

They say when your body is pushed to the limit, you see snippets from your life flash in front of you. Harry watched his earliest memories progress in a linear fashion, as if he were a watchful observer, rather than a participant.

He was five and learning to cook dinner from Aunt Petunia and accidently dropped the steak on the floor. Petunia took his hand and placed it on the skillet instead, indifferent to his screams. He had been thrown in his cupboard without food, sobbing. In the morning, his hand had healed, and his relatives were furious.

He was six and he was coughing blood due to untreated pneumonia. The Dursleys took him to the hospital and got him treatment before he died. The doctors and nurses were appalled at his lack of vaccinations, so they gave him a plethora of shots. Soon his eyesight began to fail. Aunt Petunia got him bargain bin glasses, which caused him frequent headaches.

He was seven and he broke his left arm because Dudley stomped on it. As he cried, Uncle Vernon stomped on the arm again and told him that boys don’t cry. The neighbors had commented on the cries and screams from the house as well as the broken arm in the sling. The fear of the neighbors finding out caused Vernon to severely back down on how he did his ‘punishments’ of Harry. The Dursleys also warned Dudley not to break bones. Everything else was still fair game, though.

He was eight and Dudley was suspended for bullying. The Dursleys enrolled him in swimming to help with his aggression. They told Dudley limit his fighting, lest the neighbors said anything.

He was nine and Aunt Marge came for her annual visit. After having Ripper hold him hostage in the tree until past midnight, the Dursleys had laughed. The next day, the neighbors began to talk about child abuse. Marge was promptly told to not visit Privet Drive for a while and that the family (sans Harry, of course) would visit frequently instead.

He was ten and one of the teachers noticed his scrawny, underfed, bruised frame. She sent a note with Harry about setting up a house visit to the Dursleys and did not take no for an answer. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia promptly moved Harry to Dudley’s second bedroom and cleaned the rest of the house. They made sure Dudley knew not to mention Harry’s old bedroom and not to leave bruises visibly while bullying. The second bedroom was cleaned up, without any broken pieces. The Dursleys were so concerned that they were breaking the law and would be found out that they got a decent-looking used bed, mattress, and blankets from the second-hand shop. They had stressed to Harry that if he did not fall into line, he would be sent to the orphanage after he paid his punishment in blood. After the inspections, the Dursleys moved him back to his cupboard. They continued to feed him three meals a day to avoid raising suspicions at school.

He was eleven and there was a whole fiasco with the Philosopher’s Stone.

He was twelve and the Chamber of Secrets was a thing.

He was thirteen and Aunt Marge had come back. She had insulted his dead parents; the very same parents that died for him. That got her deservedly blown up as a result. He then, finally, had three weeks to explore the Wizarding World, his world…

The morning after Fudge left, Harry slept in until 1 in the afternoon. He then asked one of the house elves at the Leaky Cauldron if he could have his lunch delivered to his room. As he munched on apple and cinnamon oatmeal, Harry made plans.

Throughout his childhood, he had learned that understanding situations and falling in line meant the least pain. However, there were times when he successfully manipulated the situation and got his rewards. Take the time when he was 10 and his injuries got noticed. Harry had purposely gone near the new teacher, who knew nothing of the Dursleys and didn’t have time to form a false impression of Harry. It helped that she did not teach Harry’s or Dudley’s classes. During recess, he had stumbled in front of her in his most baggy clothes, allowing a bruised arm to be seen under the rolled-up sleeves. That had gotten him a few weeks of respite from his cupboard and a guaranteed pass to three (albeit small) meals per day. He had learned that the Dursleys cared too much about what others would say to use that in his favor.

When he entered the wizarding world, he thought Gryffindor would be a good house because that is where his parents had been but had nothing against the other three houses. However, seeing Draco Malfoy on the train had put the nail in the coffin for Slytherin.

Now he had the chance to see how far his resources stretched and learn more about his parents. He asked the house elves for a map of Diagon Alley. Then he started circling stores where he would go to learn more, without having to worry about what Ron or Hermione might think. Harry loved his friends. They had been bright spots in his life after he joined the Wizarding World. But Ron held Harry back by his jealousy at times. He would see Harry learning and reading as Harry changing and leaving Ron behind on purpose. Hermione, on the other hand, would push him too much, maybe to the point where he lost interest and missed what he needed due to her one-track mind. She would not let him read and learn at his own pace. At least when he was with Ron’s pace, she didn’t nag him.

Harry saw how all the main streets on the wizarding side of the barrier lead to Gringotts. There was Diagon Alley (where Harry was right now) and Knockturn Alley (where Harry had gotten lost last year, and the darker parts of society did business). But there was also Historic Alley, which he knew nothing about.

He made plans to start with the genealogy shops located in Historic Alley. Circling Genealogy Through the Ages on the map, Harry continued to plan…

Chapter 4: Goblin Nation Part 1

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That evening, Harry asked the house elves what appropriate casual wear for wizards was. He didn’t need to ask at Hogwarts, because he could usually get away with his school robes and his muggle clothing didn’t need to be updated, lest the Dursleys destroy it or learn that Harry had money. Tilly and Milly’s ancestors had worked at the Leaky Cauldron for generations. These elves did not act like Dobby and were happy to help. They were healthy and not prone to fits of insanity or hurting themselves.

The twin elves directed Harry to the appropriate clothing for wizards, in addition to providing him with a copy of Wizard’s Vogue, complete with the latest international fashions. Wizards typically wore cloaks over their clothing. In England, the preferred colors were more somber like blacks, greys, and whites, with some maroons usually thrown in. These cloaks were usually worn over tailored trousers and a matching vest over a white shirt for children and teenagers. Adult men usually wore matching stripped ties with the ensemble and matching bowler hats. The overall effect was similar to the muggle fashions of the 1920s, which Harry recalled from his school lessons regarding the 1920s. He marked Sir Henry’s Tailor as a less conspicuous shop than Madam Malkins in Diagon Alley to order his next pickup of wizard’s attire. Maybe he could ask the owner more about Wizard’s fashions…

The next morning, Harry got up early, had breakfast at the tavern in his school robes, and set off towards Gringotts. He planned to get information from the Goblins and get money before heading off to Historic Alley to learn more. The hallowed, white marble structure glistened and glittered imposingly in the sun, as if made from unimaginable magic (which was probably true because the Goblins were considered amazing craftsman). On closer inspection, the walls were not just carved with intricate designs, but inlayed with jewels. Blood red rubies, sea blue sapphires, sun yellow topaz, grass green jade, and royal purple amethyst depicted various scenes from history on the towering marble pillars that lined the face of the bank. It reminded Harry of the Mughal architecture in his history books and how the colonists had ripped out said jewels in famous Southeast-Asian structures. How Harry had missed this in years past, he did not know. He chalked it up to being in a rush and thinking that the colors were just painted on.

Harry walked past the guards with a respectful nod, before heading to the tellers’ booths. Here, he saw someone he knew: Griphook. Griphook was luckily free, so Harry made a beeline for him.

“Good Morning, Griphook.”

The goblin looked startled, perhaps surprised to be addressed by a wizard.

“Good Morning, Wizard. How may I help you today?”

“My name is Harry Potter. I don’t know if you remember, but you showed me my vault a few years ago… I was wondering if you could direct me to someone who could walk me through my finances?”

“Certainly. If you follow me, I can access one of our ledgers and we can discuss this in my office with one of the other teller goblins.”

“Thank you very much for your help, Griphook,” Harry said, as he nervously followed the stern-looking to the meeting rooms farther into the bank.

On the way, Griphook stopped by another goblin on what seemed to be guard duty. “Jasper, could you accompany Mr. Potter and I to discuss his finances?”

“What about the Potter account manager?” Jasper asked.

“As you recall, the Potter Account Manager passed away years ago and he was the last of his clan. There has no one who has been stated yet. Per policy, at least two goblins from different clans must be present to talk finances until the next manager is appointed.”

Jasper seemed to anger at this information. “But Mr. Potter has been to the bank before. Is he continuing to delay selecting an account manager, or at least a managing clan, to slight the bank?!”

Harry quickly cottoned on. “Please excuse me, Sir Goblin,” he spoke as respectfully as he could. “I have no idea what you are insinuating but I swear- “here Harry paused, wondering what he could do that was dramatic enough to express his sincerity. Channeling a conversation he had with Hermione after she was revived, he continued, raising his wand, “I, Harry James Potter, swear on my magic that I did not intentionally mean any disrespect to the Goblin Nation or any of its constituents with my past actions. So mote it be.” The wand tip lit up as he was saying the oath. If he didn’t say the truth, his wand would go up in flames and consume his wand arm, as well as turn him into a Squib.

Both goblins looked gob smacked. “Apology accepted,” Jasper said begrudgingly. “We were informed that you had gotten the best education during your childhood.”

“I didn’t know about the magical world until my eleventh birthday and the next day was when I came to Gringotts for the first and only time.” Harry then focused his energy on the royal mannerisms from Aunt Petunia’s shows and Slytherin students’ speech. “I hope to learn more about Goblin culture so I can address the Goblin Nation in the most respectful manner as well as fulfill any obligations I may have towards you.”

“I had suspected that to be the case after seeing the poor state of your clothes the last time you visited,” Griphook interjected. “But, we should probably continue to rest of this in the conference room.”

The door to the conference room was wooden, but almost as intricate as the bank entrance. There were no jewels, but the carved wooden flora and fauna seemed to almost move. The goblins chucked at his staring as they ushered him inside.

In the middle of the room, there was a large mahogany desk, surrounded by chairs, with a tome positioned on a pedestal in the center.

“Have a seat, Mr. Potter. That is one of our ledgers.”

Harry sat across from the two goblins. The goblins then opened the tome to the first page, but it was blank. He looked confusedly at the goblins. Jasper picked up the explanation this time: “Our main ledgers are kept deep within the goblin nation under secure wards. The tomes up here only give information regarding one individual at a time…Years ago, one of our master craftsmen developed a method in which 3 drops of blood from a wizard on a smaller tome, like this one, will yield all of his/her inheritances and detailed finances.” Jasper held out a ritualistic knife. “Your finger, Mr. Potter.”

Harry held out his left hand. As soon his blood hit the book, spidery ink lines began spreading out across the pages. Griphook tapped his finger to the cut. “The wound is not healed Mr. Potter, just sealed,” he said as he used his magic to bring the two ends of the 4-millimeter wound. “It should be fine within an hour.”

The three of them looked at the book. The first page now read “Harold James Evan Potter. Preferred name: Harry James Potter.”

“That is my real name?” Harry blurted out before he could suppress it.

Something like feral anger passed between the goblins. “Yes,” Griphook said. “Were you not aware?”

Harry shook his head. “But please continue.”

Griphook turned the page. “This page serves as a table of contents. The third page shows all your vaults, and the fourth page shows all your properties. Following that are pages showing any transactions made and from which of your vaults those transactions were made. Where would you like to start?”

“Could we start with the vaults?”

“Until now, you had access to only your trust vault. Per bank policy, as the sole remaining Potter of the Head Branch, you now have access to the Potter Heirloom Vault at 13 years old. You will be able to access the rest of the vaults at age 15. Do you have your key?”

“I never had my key. Dumbledore has never let me have it. I asked for it from Hagrid when we visited the bank two years ago, from Dumbledore multiple times, and from Ms. Weasley last year. And what do mean by Head Branch?”

Both Goblins snarled, promptly hitting a red button on the desk. A troop of five goblins rushed in through the door almost immediately. “Stop all transactions from all of the Potter vaults at this moment! Deactivate the keys! We have a thief!” Griphook snarled. He pointed to three of the goblins. “You go stop transactions globally, You go deactivate the keys, and You go alert the War council!”

Jasper then pointed to the fourth goblin: “Contact the Centaur council to send a healer for Mr. Potter as well!”

Griphook pointed to the last goblin: “You should join us in this room as we go through the rest of this, so we have another witness to what has occurred.”

They quickly brought the new goblin, Topaz, up to speed. This had him snarling as well. “We need to do an audit of the last 15 years of Potter vaults!”

Chapter 5: Goblin Nation Part 2

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Harry watched the three goblins confer in Gobbledygook, getting more nervous as time went on.

“Excuse me….” he began.

“Yes, Mr. Potter?” Griphook turned to him, directing the attention of Jasper and Topaz as he did so.

“If the accounts are frozen and audits are going on, can I still get money for living expenses and school supply shopping? When will the audits be done?”

“The audits will take at least a week. We will have to manually withdraw money from your trust fund and you have to be present when this withdrawal happens.”

“Ok. How do we proceed?”

Griphook withdrew a diamond-encrusted serrated knife from one of the drawers in the desk. He used it to carve a symbol into the ledger before him. “If you give another 3 drops of blood, you will certify that Gringotts, as a bank, is allowed to withdraw 100 G from your bank account while your account and affairs are being adjusted.”

Harry grimaced as the cut on his hand was unsealed again by Goblin magic. He gave his blood and the symbol (Ϣ) glowed brightly for a moment before turning puce. Griphook again sealed the cut. “Come with us, Mr. Potter.”

The trip to the vault was as Harry remembered from his previous visit. The high-speed cart got to his trust vault and he stood at the side. The three goblins gathered the money into a Gringotts branded money pouch, the size of Harry’s fist, and handed it to him. The four of them, then went to the lobby, while the goblins discussed something among themselves.

“Mr. Potter, how long will you be in Diagon Alley?” Griphook asked.

“I think until school starts. Why?”

“Per bank policy, we can only answer inquiries about accounts that are being audited in person. The bank will not be sending owls or other means of communications. If you are nearby, then it will make it easier for you to stay updated.”

“Ok. Would it be alright if I came to check how things are going later this week?”

“That will be more than ok. It is your right as a client, and it was a failure of the bank to not protect your assets. The three of us have decided, since you don’t know much about the wizarding world and are currently alone with minimal funds, that we will give you a temporary gwarsank, a ceremonial coin, that contains magic from our three clans. If you encounter any trouble, feel free to push your magic through the coin and we will be alerted.”

The coin was about the size of a sickle with a golden center and silver lining. Inside the gold was an small opal, giving the coin an opaque sheen. The coin depicted goblins fighting and vanquishing enemies along with some symbols Harry assumed were in Gobbledegook. “Thank you. I am honored… I don’t mean to offend, but how should we push our magic through?”

“Hmm. Do you mind if we examined your wand Mr. Potter?”

Harry complied.

Griphook held hit in his hand and then passed it to Jasper and Topaz. They muttered something in Gobbledegook before turning to Harry. Griphook, being the unspoken spokesperson, started explaining, “Mr. Potter, do you ever feel tired when casting spells?”

“Yes, especially at the end of exams.”

“That is to be expected as you are using your magic. Now hold your wand.”

Harry gripped the end of the phoenix wand tightly.

“Do you feel anything from your wand?”

“I’ve never thought about it?” Harry questioned.

“Close your eyes and focus on the wand. Try casting a Lumos spell and focus on how your energy changes.”

Harry closed his eyes and just focused on his wand. With a deep breath, he moved his hand as he spoke the spell. A small tug, almost imperceptible, occurred behind his bellybutton. He felt something travel from his navel to his right arm and into his wand. He quickly opened his eyes excitedly “I felt a tug at my navel and then something moved from there through my wand.”

“Very good Mr. Potter. All magic cores are usually located behind the navel. Knowing how to move your magic is the basis of learning wandless magic, which requires years of training. Wands have a little magic of their own, which aids the bearer move magic once the wand choses the wizard core it likes.”

“Is the wand’s magic from the components, like phoenix feathers?” Harry asked.

“Correct Mr. Potter. The core, wood, size, and shape all contribute to the wand’s unique magical signature. Now try pushing your energy through the coin in the same way that it moves to your wand.”

Harry closed his eyes and redirected his attention back to his navel. However, he couldn’t pull energy from it at all. Holding the coin and trying with all his might did nothing to move energy to the coin. He panicked and looked at Griphook. “I’m having trouble, sir.”

“That is understandable Mr. Potter. There is a reason why wandless magic is difficult to use, especially for human magic folk. Though pushing your magic is preferable for the best signal, we can use your blood while you learn how to push magic. There is a small lever at the far side of the coin that will release a needle when pushed.” Harry examined the mechanism, while Griphook confirmed that Harry could use the failsafe if he wasn’t able manipulate his magic.

“Remember Mr. Potter, blood can be used in rituals without your consent, so learning how to manipulate your magic is something you should master quickly.”

Harry nodded vigorously.

“Alright Mr. Potter, any other question?”

“Since the Potter vaults have been stolen from, could you explain why we didn’t notify the Aurors?”

The three goblins looked at each other. “We do not know who is involved in this theft and do not want to tip off the Aurors. This is a matter of honor for the goblin nation.”

Griphook then continued, “We will let you know when the audit is complete, so you can access your vaults. We will also keep you abreast of what we find in our investigation. You will need to come back once the centaur healer is here, so we can do a full health check, something that all house heirs are supposed to get once they reach the age of 9.”

Harry wondered if it was normal for goblin clans to protect wizards, considering how he had heard his friends and schoolmates grumble about how shrewd, calculating, and money-hungry goblins were. He shook his head, this is the same prejudice that wizards have against muggles. I will investigate this in Historic Alley.

“Thank you again Griphook, Jasper, and Topaz. Could you point me a safe direction to Historic Alley, without going through Knockturn Alley?”

“You will need to either go through the bank or go around the bank to get through Historic Alley from here.” Griphook pointed to the door opposite the entrance from Diagon Alley. “That is Historic Alley… Good day, Mr. Potter.”

“Good day, Griphook, Jasper, and Topaz.”

Harry glanced at his wristwatch. The entire trip had only taken three hours, considering how much needed to be done. It was now 11:15 am. The sun will be setting at 6 pm, giving Harry ample time to look around before heading back.

The Historic Alley side of the bank looked exactly like its Diagon Alley side. The street itself, however, was completely different. While Diagon and Knockturn both had multiple street vendors narrowing and twisting the bustling streets at places, Historic Alley was orderly. The street had the exact same structure, with stores lining both sides for multiple blocks. There were no street vendors, and the crowds were much fewer in between. Historic Alley had a calm glowing warmth to it, like a sunset on a long summer day, or like a hearth during long winter nights.

Harry pulled his map from his pocket. There were so many places he wanted to explore, including as the Magical Cultures shop, Muggles and Magic shop, Magizoology shop, Wiccan Antique shop, and Wiccan Temple. He took a deep breath and headed towards the large, grey Victorian store on the right of the street, about 50 meters from Gringotts’ steps. The wooden street sign had a golden book swinging from a metal pole, bearing the name of the store: Genealogy Through the Ages, Est. 100 B.C.

The double doors opened to reveal a relatively large lobby, covered in luscious thick carpets of red and silver. Harry’s feet sank delightfully into the rugs as he made his way to the tall counter, manned by an ancient stern-looking witch, her silver hair pulled back into a bun, glasses gracing her hooked, wrinkled nose. While sitting in her chair at the elevated counter, her shoulders were at Harry’s eye level.

“How may I help you, dear?”

“I wanted to learn more about my family and about the Wizarding World. Which section of the store should I go to?”

“You are in the right place to learn about family history. This store does not have much in the way of other history…” She adjusted her glasses, looking down at him. “What are your opinions of Muggles?”

Is this some type of test? “Muggles are human beings as we are human beings. They share this planet and we must learn to live with them. One of my best friends is muggle-born, and I don’t see how her birth status is significant.”

She smiled. “Then you want the full, unbiased history. Without all the nonsense the Ministry and the Pureblooded bigots have pushed onto us in the last few centuries… One of the rules they pushed through is to ask that question to all customers. Silly, isn’t it?” Harry nodded.

“ …. Do you have a map?” she asked

Harry handed her his map. She circled stores on the map before turning it to face him. “For the best history texts, visit History Unraveled. They have a very good collection that should help with your search for history, cultures, and customs. Avoid the Wizarding History shop, it is full of drivel.” She moved her hands to other shops: “Once you have a good base to your understanding, I would recommend visiting the Crystals and Herbs shop, as well as the others on your list.”

“Do you have a genealogy text that I can buy here?”

“Yes. You can get your entire genealogy here, stretching back to your earliest ancestors. The goblins can also tell you about your family tree, but not in depth because they don’t care for wizard accomplishments. For financial dynamics, branch families, and other legality specifics, you will have to ask the goblins for more details.”

“How much?”

“That will be determined by the text. Place your hand on this block of wood and push your magic through it.” She placed a wooden brick on the counter.

“I’m not good with this yet, ma’am, but I will try.”

Harry again pictured his magic behind his navel, but again he couldn’t manipulate it. The elderly which sighted and pulled out a more rustic looking brick. “One drop of blood should do the trick, however, I would recommend learning to control your magic soon.”

Upon doing so, the brick showed “Potter” printed in rainbow colors. She then removed the brick, “We got that from the goblins during one of the Goblin Wars.”

The lady went behind the counter to one of the massive bookshelves and brought a large text with a black cover. She placed the book in a two boxed contraption and waved her wand. A copy of the book appeared next to it, which she bright back to Harry. Seeing his quizzical look, she answered his unsaid question, “No, that was not the common copying spell. The machine and the spell were designed for this shop and are a family secret.” She placed the book on a scale. “The book will be 3000G to purchase.”

“Are there any other options?”

“You can borrow the book to read in the shop for 25G per week.”

“Can I bring other books to read as well?”

“Yes.”

“Then I would like to borrow the book for this week.” Harry pulled out the cash. “Can I come back later with more purchases?”

“Yes. For 5G you can borrow one of our reading rooms on the second floor for the week as well. It will be sealed with your magical signature and you can deposit your items safely in the room until you need to leave.”

“I will take one then,” Harry said, placing 5 Galleons on the counter. He received a key with a room number. “Thank you. I will be back soon.”

Harry then went to History Unraveled. It was like Flourish & Blotts from Diagon Alley, with rows and rows of shelves stacked to the ceiling. Harry spent another 20G on the recommended Goblins and Gringotts, A True History of Wizarding Britain until 1900, Wizarding Upheaval of the 20^th Century, Centaurs and Rituals, Wizarding Cultures of the World, Wiccan Religion through the Millennia, and Hogwarts a History, Uncut Edition.

Returning with his purchases to Genealogy through the Ages, he went to the second-floor room reserved for him. He couldn’t wait to get started!

Chapter 6: Chapter 6: Taking Root Part 1

Chapter Text

His room had an unassuming black door with a gargoyle door knocker with a keyhole, into which Harry placed his given key. There was a diagram of how to tap the door with his wand situated next to the door on the wall. Like the entrance to Diagon Alley, once he had tapped the door correctly, it swung open. Using his wand secured the room to his magical signature, per the instructions outside. He grabbed the key before entering. Inside, there was a wall of empty bookshelves, a thick black rug, a large, artificial window overlooking a cloudless sunny day in the grassy English countryside, rays reflecting off a ‘nearby’ stream. Harry took out a stack of paper and pens he found forgotten in his room at the Dursleys. Quills were so difficult and impractical to wield, and he planned to switch to muggle pens permanently. He honestly had no idea why he hadn’t thought of this before.

He immediately decided that he wouldn’t have time for most of his books that week, as he needed to learn about goblins, centaurs, and his own history. He placed majority of his textsin his pile to put at the bottom of the trunk. This made his seemingly monumental task much more palatable, since he only had three books to focus on: Goblins and Gringotts, Centaurs and Rituals, Potter Genealogy.

He started with Potter Genealogy. The book had a table of contents in the beginning, with the following pages showing a complex family tree. He tapped the book as instructed by the various posters on the walls, causing the family tree reflected vertically into the air and expanded, like a hologram screen, encompassing the entire table. He reached out to touch the first block on the tree, from which all seemed to originate. Text appeared next to him as an elderly warm voice read it aloud:

Of the Ancient and Most Noble Houses, Potter is one of the oldest. It was originally called the house of Peverell, originating before the time of Hogwarts and Merlin. Beedle the Bard recorded the earliest tales from the British Iles, including the Tale of the Three brothers, featuring the earliest known mention of the Peverell family. The three brothers lived around 500 A.D. Legend has it that they were powerful wizards dealing with the Dark Enchantress, Tlachtga, when they created the three objects now called the Deathly Hallows. The eldest created a powerful wand to help him in battle, the middle brother created the resurrection stone to raise the dead, and the youngest created an invisibility cloak so durable that its magic would never fade. The eldest brother died after boasting about his wand, without leaving an heir. The middle brother committed suicide, as he was unable to completely resurrect the dead and was unable to resurrect his fiancée after the defeat of the Dark Enchantress. The youngest, Ignotus, is the only one who left heirs, of which the current main branch bears the name “Potter.” For further history of the house of Peverell before these brothers of the Peverell tree, please see the Potter family vaults.

Harry looked at the tree in wonder. Over a thousand years of his ancestors laid out before him. He could ask about anyone. This all was his. His roots, his history, a long lineage that led to him! He never felt more grounded than in that one moment of realization. What he was most curious about at this moment was where he stood and who his closest relatives were. Surely with such a large family tree, he would definitely have someone to take him away from the Dursleys.

As he tapped the tree with his wand again, specifically at his name, a rainbow-colored line became clearer, leading to his name in the vast array. His name, Harold James Evan Potter, sent a thrill through him. Connected to him was Lily Isabelle Potter, née Evans and James Fleamont Potter. However, there was also a silver line connecting him to another name, off the tree of his paternal grandmother: Sirius Orion Black. He touched the line: godfather bond. He had a godfather! Where was he?

Harry touch Sirius’s name: Sirius Orion Black, current Lord-presumptive of the House of Black. Was serving a lifelong sentence in Azkaban, without trial for suspected involvement in the deaths of Lily and James Potter. Broke out on July 25^th, 1993. He is suspected to be after Harry Potter.

Harry sat back. His godfather was crazed prisoner who tried to get him killed before and was currently looking for him.

The genealogy book showed him other relationships. His father did not have any siblings, but his paternal grandparents had had large families growing up. Many of the names were either dead or not residing in the British Iles. What stood out to him that the Blacks were connected to many of the pureblooded families that he knew through marriage in the last 5 or so generations. The Weasleys, the Smiths, the Longbottoms, the Malfoys, and the Notts to name a few.

His mother’s family line was faint with multiple muggles stretching back about 7 generations to a witch named Mildred Smith. To his dismay and ever-mounting horror, Mildred was a direct ancestor of one of the most annoying prats after Draco Malfoy: Zacharias Smith.

Smith had always had his nose in the air and looked down on others. He was one of the ones egging on Ernie McMillan’s theories that Harry was the Heir of Slytherin last year. He had always boasted that he was the Heir of Hufflepuff and that he had connections in high places due to his relatives being involved in politics.

The sun in the artificial room was reaching the horizon, meaning that it was probably dusk in the real world as well. Leaving the three books of interest, Harry carried his other items to store and didn’t recall hitting his bed.

The following day, he returned to Gringotts on his way to Historic Alley. Griphook flagged him down before he left the bank. “Mr. Potter, we were able to arrange the services of Red Rowan, a healer from one of tribes near Hogwarts.” A centaur with a reddish-brown coat and dark brown hair stood behind him.

“Good morning, Mr. Potter,” he said jovially. “How are you doing today?”

“Well, thank you Mr. Rowan. How about yourself?”

“Well, thanks. Griphook informed me that the bank needed to do a wellness check on you while your accounts were being audited?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect. There is a healing hall located in one of the lower levels of the bank. We would conduct the rituals there.”

“We, Jasper, Topaz, and I, will escort you to the ritual rooms. The goblin healers will be on hand to assist, Master Rowan.” Griphook began. “Is that alright Mr. Potter?”

“Harry is ok, and yes that is fine.” As they walked the halls, Harry turned to Red, “I haven’t had much chance to learn about Centaurs in general or healing. Is it similar to other forms of healing?”

“That is a great question, Harry. Centaurs were the first healers. We took the energy from nature and used its power to fix the ailments in the human body. I believe some humans call it chi or chakra out East. But there have never been enough centaur healers to go around, so early on, we taught the other races as much as we could. That is why we have healers in all cultures. Centaurs are now specifically needed for those rituals that require extra strength or, in your case for example, an extremely through check.”

Harry mulled this over as they descended flights of stairs to a set of large double doors with ornate vines carved into them.

“Here we are Red, Harry,” Jasper stated, as he opened the door. Inside was a room similar to the wilds Harry had seen in the Forbidden Forest, with trees, vines, and shrubbery surrounding a vast central clearing. In the artificial blue sky, there was a large sun spreading warmth as it peaked through the treetops. About a dozen goblins in scrubs were scattered about the clearing, waiting to assist. Their leader talked to Griphook, Topaz, and Jasper, before turning to Harry.

“My name is Ruby and I will be assisting Mr. Rowan in the cleansing and healing rituals.”

“We will take our leave now Mr. Potter,” Griphook said as he left with Jasper and Topaz.

Red looked around at the clearing. “Harry, sit crossed legged in the center of the clearing. I will carve some runes into the soil.”

Harry watched as Red dug a circular trench around the clearing equidistant from him. Then he talked to the goblins, handing them vines. “Harry, I am going to give you 12 vines to hold. They may grow and climb up your hands and arms, but they will not harm you.”

“Ok.” Harry was starting to feel apprehensive.

Red noticed this. “If you are nervous, would you be more comfortable with a human in the room?”

“If that is allowed, I would appreciate it.”

“We have some trusted Wixen associated with bank,” Ruby said as she brought him a list.

Harry looked at the list and a few names struck out to him. “Bill Weasley and Andromeda Tonks.” Bill was Ron’s and the twin’s older brother that Harry always heard so much about from all three. Andromeda Tonks was someone he had seen in the genealogy book that had turned her back on pureblooded ideals and married a muggle, only to be kicked out of the Black family. Of the meager options, she seemed to be a good backup.

He recalled that the Weasley family visited Bill the previous month in Egypt. “What if the people on the list are not in London?”

Ruby looked at him. “All friends and trusted Wixen have bank-issued portkeys. We will send notifications to those who need them. They will be here before the ritual but will be bound not to reveal anything about it. All of us in this room have already taken the same oath.”

“Thank you.” Harry took the vines into his hands, slowly they grew up his arms to cover his chest, torso, and neck, weaving themselves into his hair. However, none of them pulled at him. Time passed as the vines grew thicker and longer; Harry was too mesmerized by them to notice how long the process was taking.

“Harry, I will be pouring water into the interconnected channels I have created. It will connect to you and to the rest of the array. After this, none of us will enter the circle.”

The crystalline water gently lapped at his knees and back, making him feel as if he was sitting in a bath. However, his clothes did not feel soggy.

“Andromeda Tonks and Bill Weasley have arrived,” Someone announced from the door.

“Hello Harry,” Bill said kindly across from Harry. He was as cool as the Weasleys had described him. With his long red pony tail, sharp jaw, arms covered in runes from his shoulders to his elbows, and large fang earing in his right ear. “I wish we could have met under better circ*mstances, but my brothers have told me a lot about you. We can talk more after the rituals if you like?”

“That will be great, Bill. Thanks for coming on short notice.”

“Not at all. Andy was glad you asked her to tag along as well.”

“Hello Nephew,” a tall regal woman with black ringlets and steel-silver eyes now stood in front of him. Harry was glad that they were moving into his line of site because he could not turn his head with the vines.

Seeing the confusion on his face, she continued, “Your grandmother Dorea was my father’s sister and James was my cousin, making you my nephew.”

“Thank you for coming... Aunt Andromeda.”

“Oh, Andy or Aunt Andy will do. Bill and I will be here after the ritual if you would like to talk.”

Harry nodded.

Red took command of the room. “Okay. We are gathered today to perform the Hippocratic Cleansing Ritual and Occam’s Healing Procedure. I, Red Rowan am the Head Healer.”

“I, Ruby Sandstone, am the assistant healer.”

One by one, all the individuals in the room stated their name, and their role, including the scribe and the observers.

“Now for the Healer’s Oath: By blood, magic, and the stars, I plan to uphold my duty as a healer and mean Harold James Even Potter no harm.” Red’s words were echoed by all present in the room.

“What does the Healer’s Oath mean?” Harry asked.

“If anyone tries to harm you on purpose during the rituals today, their life will be forfeit,” Red stated solemnly. “Now Harry, close your eyes and take deep breaths in and out.”

A bright turquoise-blue light spread under his eyelids, but Harry kept his eyes closed. The array bloomed under his eyelids, and he could feel a magic pulse flowing through it with the water.

“Good Harry. Keep your eyes closed and focus on your breathing. You should be able to feel the array and see it in your mind’s eye. The magic of the vines and local plants will flow through you and access information about all your physical and mental injuries. The magic will pulse through multiple times before exiting toward a translation and diagnostic rune that will translate the information into written form.”

After a few minutes, the array began to dim, and Harry heard some outraged gasps.

“Is everything ok?” he asked, keeping his eyes shut.

“We have noticed a wide range of injuries and magical blocks on your person. We can stop here and resume the ritual at another day.” Red began.

A noise was heard at the door.

“Harry,” Aunt Andy cut in. “I would recommend going through with the cleaning right now. I don’t think you will be able to come back another day anytime soon.”

Harry felt a little hesitant, which Red noticed again.

“We will not harm you,” Red repeated. “We have sworn the Healer’s Oath.”

“Ok. Please proceed,” Harry said, opening his eyes.

“We would need a little bit of your blood to flow through the water along with nature’s magic for the cleansing ritual. Do you give your consent?”

“Yes.”

Harry felt two sharp pricks on his ankles as two of the vines made their openings. His blood began to slowly mingle outward into the array.

“We will be adding verbal and musical runes as part of the ritual. I will have to ask you to close your eyes again.”

Harry felt magic flow through the array once more. Unlike the diagnostic magic, the healing magic was a mix of night black, blood red, and spring green. It pulsed though him, each time stronger than the last. His head began to pound, and he heard large drums. An unknown language permeated the air from the healers, which the magic pulsations translated for him. “Oh Great Mother Magic, this Child has been harmed. He is hurt, bound and suffering. Please use nature’s magic and the magic from those present to heal him so he may recover what he has lost. We are all Your children, blessed by Your Grace and would like your assistance. Great Mother Magic, protect your child!”

The chants repeated and Harry’s headache proceeded to a brain-shattering level. He felt no longer in control of his body. Then a warm hand seemed to caress his face as all went silent. “Harry. Open your eyes, Harry.”

Harry slowly lifted he eyelids to see his mother, Lily, standing in the middle of the field in front of him. “Mum…Where is everyone else?”

“With your body.”

“Am I dead?”

“No, Son,” James said, stepping into view. “When we died, we sealed a ritual you mother had read up on to protect you.” Harry’s throat closed up painfully. “We would manifest to protect your life force one time when you were in great danger.”

“Dad.” Harry got up and stumbled into his parents’ embrace. As their solid arms came around him, he could hear their heartbeats. It wasn't a vision or some reflection and Harry felt a part of his soul felt whole for the first time in his life.

“I guess this counts as the one off,” James said winking. “Don’t go searching for danger again, though.”

“We don’t have much time, Harry,” Lily said suddenly. “You will learn a lot of things in the next few minutes from Red and the others. Trust Andy and Sirius. They will help you. Whatever you do, don’t trust Dumbledore and be cautious of his circle of influence.”

They began to fade. “Find the rat,” said James. “Find him and give him hell. But enjoy your life and play pranks to the fullest.”

“Go through the Potter Heirloom Vault. You will find it of interest. Always remember, we love you and are proud of you, Harry.”

“Wait!” Harry called after them, letting out an anguished cry. He fell to his knees as the warm, solid arms; the heartbeats of the family he could have had were taken away from him once more. He could have been any other child, coming home to warm meals after school, going on vacation with his family, getting to know his history. Why couldn't he have even five minutes with them? He watched as their outlines got fainter, reaching out to them with tears streaming down his face, but he could not hold them back, as they faded into the mist.

Harry’s vision then blacked out and he faded into oblivion.

Chapter 7: Chapter 7: Taking Root Part 2

Chapter Text

“Harry?” A muffled male voice called, coming into focus. “Harry Potter? Are you alright?”

Harry felt as if he had been run over by a lorry. Everything hurt: from the tips of his hair his toes. He felt a hand gently shake his arm. “Harry?” the voice called again. Harry opened his eyes to see a very concerned Red.

“Is it over?” he asked, looking around slowly. The valley was no longer hale and hearty. The grass and trees looked charred and blacked; the vines that had covered him were flaking off. “What happened?” he asked looking at the devastation.

“We did the cleaning ritual successfully, but some things took more energy than others. The ritual room will be fine in a few days. We can talk about the ritual and what happened in the next room while the goblins begin the repairs.”

Bill and Aunt Andy stood outside of the circle, both slightly distressed and concerned. “Can they come too?” Harry asked. His mum had said to trust Andy. Bill, he wasn’t too sure about, but from what he knew of magical vows, he knew that the information today would not get out easily.

The four of them gathered around a large table with Healer Ruby. Harry was wrapped in blankets, with a bandage around his head like a turban. Apparently, his scar had started bleeding.

Red began, “As you know, Harry, the first ritual was a diagnostic ritual to see any injury, magical, physical or otherwise that has occurred since birth on your person. We found that you were often neglected and abused by your family growing up and had many injuries. We will work on making sure you don’t have to go back to the Dursleys. Your magic was able to heal a good portion of your physical injuries, but we will work to come up with a nutrition plan to further your healing along.

“What was even more concerning, was the blocks on your mental and magical abilities. You were under compulsion charms to trust Albus Dumbledore implicitly.” Red paused. “This means that you would not doubt Albus Dumbledore, no matter what he did.”

Harry thought back to how much he had begged Dumbledore to stay at the castle every year and was still sent back. He knew Dumbledore left him at the Dursleys but didn’t care what happened to him. The muggle protective services never checked in on him, like they usually do for orphans. Looking at his family tree, he could have been with anybody, not just with Petunia. The blood wards could have sufficed if he stayed with relatives overseas as well. As the pieces came together, the grandfatherly image that Harry had of the man, shattered.

“You also had compulsions to hate Slytherins and Severus Snape as well as not to ask questions or try to put your best effort forward.”

Harry’s temper surged. “How dare he!” Harry said in quiet rage. “I won’t forgive this and I will definitely not forget.”

“There is more,” Aunt Andy started, apologetically. “Your magical core was bound, including the Potter Family Magics you were born with-“

“Hang on. What are the Potter Family Magics? And are all children born with their family magic?”

“There are some magics that are family specific. Think of them like genetics. For example, the Black family magics include Metamorphagus abilities and propensity for Blood Magic. The Potter Family was known for its Animagi. They had a propensity for Transfiguration because of the affinity to become Animagi. I also heard that many Potters were Parselmouths because of a marriage to a South Asian Princess. Children are not born with all of the Family Magic and they are reassessed by their Family Magic at the age of 15 to see if they will keep, gain, or lose an ability of their Family.”

“Could you lose a gift if the gifts are not used when given?”

“Family Magic can take offence and decline to favor that witch or wizard after taking back the unused gift."

So he, Harry, would have less weapons in his arsenal when Voldemort came after him next time. How could Dumbledore pass off Harry’s inherited parseltongue abilities as something from Voldemort! His own Family Magic chose that for him, not his family’s murderer!

Red picked up the conversation again,” Due to the additional core blocks, you have been operating at 25% of your power. These blocks were also placed by Dumbledore. Your spells will be overpowered as your core expands and continues to grow.”

“When will my core stop growing?”

“Around age 20.”

“Was there anything else I missed during the ritual?”

The adults looked at each other. “You had a soul leech in your scar,” Red said.

“Basically, a part of Voldemort’s soul,” Bill said bluntly. “That is what took so much power. A fire erupted from you and charred the ritual circle. Red said you came close to losing your life, but our magics and Mother Magic helped remove the leech.”

Harry turned a sickly green. Gross.

Bill started again, “Harry, after the diagnostic ritual, one of the goblins tried to breach the room and stop the healing ritual. He was apprehended… he was working for Albus Dumbledore.”

“That is why I suggested you complete the cleansing ritual today,” Aunt Andy added.

“Thank you.” Harry didn’t know what else to say. It was a lot to process. He wanted to go back to his room at the Leaky cauldron and sleep for the rest of the day.

“Aunt Andy and Bill, thank you for being here for the rituals. I wanted to talk to both of you afterwards, but I think I am feeling faint,” Harry said, suddenly struggling to keep his eyes open. “Would there be a date or time this week that would work for you?” he asked before promptly passing out at the table.

----BACK TO PRESENT TIME----

Harry felt a presence next to him, for the first time since falling into his memories. As he fought the pull of his dreams, he heard some voices.

“Red, he has lost a lot of blood,” a feminine voice spoke.

“How long as he been---,” Harry could not make out the rest of the sentence or who spoke.

“Cruciatus tremors----”

“----Bones broken----”

“----Draught of Living Death”

Some liquid was forced into his mouth, causing him to swallow.

Harry drifted back to his memories, unable to control the wave of fatigue that washed over him, unable to resist the urge.

---BACK TO MEMORIES---

Harry came to at the bank’s hospital triage ward, unsure of how long he was out. The staff assured him it had only been a few hours. He had had lingering fatigue from the ritual and his near-death experience, causing him to lose consciousness once again. They had given him some doses of the Invigorating Draught via IV as he slept. Harry looked at the clock on the wall, the time being around 4 in the afternoon.

The triage ward was a large cavern lined with rows of beds surrounded by privacy curtains. At the nurse’s station, Red sat with a stack of papers and books as he took note. Looking up, he saw Harry. “How are you feeling, Harry?” he asked as he moved his glasses up his nose.

“Much better, thank you.” Harry looked around.

“Andromeda and Bill had to return to work, but both wanted me to update them to whenever you got up. They left this mirror for you.” He held up a pocket-sized mirror. “Gringotts employees have them to communicate, but they must be returned once the employee finds a job elsewhere. Not many witches and wizards know about them outside of Gringotts.”

“Thank you.” Harry held the mirror in his hand.

“To activate it, you need to say the name of the person you are trying to contact.”

“Ok, I’ll try to reach them once they are off work.” Harry pocketed the mirror.

“Do you have any questions, Harry?”

“Just one for now: Do you know Bane or Firenze? I met them in the Forbidden Forest a little over a year ago.”

“Yes. Bane is still upset on how centaurs from the Forest were pushed away from the school.”

“What do you mean?”

“The forest wasn’t always forbidden. The students would get treatment at the centaur villages and the centaurs used to teach some of the classes, like Divination. Unfortunately, that has changed since Armando Dippet was Headmaster.”

Harry was quiet as they walked to the main hall.

“I must leave you here, Harry. I am needed back at my village. If you have questions or concerns, send it via owl.”

“Thank you for your help, Red. It was nice meeting you today.”

“Likewise, Harry,” Red responded, shaking his hand.

Harry watched the centaur retreat into the bowels of the bank, before heading to the counter.

“May I speak to Griphook regarding my vaults,” he inquired at the counter.

“Griphook will be with you to explain the progress, per bank policy,” the clerk responded, gesturing to room off to the side. "Jasper will join him as you still don't have an official manager (who cannot be appointed during a time of audit). Topaz will join them as per security. Please wait in that room.”

“Thank you.”

Harry sat at the desk in the conference room, as Griphook, Jasper and Topaz filtered in.

“We have gone through all monthly statements over the last 15 years,” Griphook began. “The international branches have the verifications from the branch families regarding their purchases. Yours are what remain. Since your birth, the first few statements were confirmed by your parents. After their untimely deaths, statements have been left unverified.”

Jasper passed a list to Harry. “Here is a list of all monthly transactions, starting from October 1981. It shows that Dumbledore had illegally authorized the Dursleys to be paid 1000 pounds a month from the Potter Family Vault to keep you. He made himself your guardian without reading your parents’ wills. However, as your guardian, the money he withdrew from the Potter vault could only be used in your care. He has no direct access to the vault and cannot enter without you present. “

“Those were the only transactions from your accounts until 1991. Dumbledore took control of your key from your trust vault. At the time, he had tried to access the other vaults, but could not access them as you were not old enough. Since then, he has been clearing out your trust fund every summer right before it is replenished on your birthday.”

“How much money is that?”

“10,000 galleons. He has taken 30,000 so far, including this year’s.”

“Can the goblins keep a separate book of all the money he has taken? I expect him to try for the Heirloom Vault this year.”

“He already did, but since you were not here, the Potter Magics did not let him in. We suspect he will try to get you to let him into the vaults. We can keep track of the money he takes separately for you.”

“How much would that cost me?”

“We will do it free of charge, as what he is doing is an insult to the bank. We will keep you appraised on that front,” Jasper spoke up.

Topaz had not spoken during the entire interaction, taking his security role for the encounter very seriously. He continued to observe with a small nod in Harry’s direction when he saw Harry was watching him.

“Let us know what you would like done with the funds to the Dursleys.”

“I want the payments to the Dursleys to continue for now,” Harry began. “But, instead of a payment, it will be a loan with an interest of 2%,” he smiled. “And the interest rate will double for every year from now until I am free from Dumbledore’s clutches.” His teeth were now on full display, akin to the smiles spreading across the faces of the goblins.

“Perfect,” Griphook agreed. “If you sign this document, we can unfreeze your vaults and the international vaults for the branch families.”

Harry quickly read the contract and signed the paper, which glowed and added itself to the Potter Ledger.

“If you come tomorrow, we can discuss the Potter Heirloom Vault.”

Harry remembered just as he was walking out of the conference room. “One of the goblins was trying to interfere with the ritual earlier today on Albus Dumbledore’s orders. Is there anything I should watch out for when I meet him?”

“Don’t look him in his eyes. He can read your mind through mind magics. The coin we gave you should protect you from magical compulsions if you hold it in your hand, but it won’t protect you from anything you drink, nor from mind magics.”

With his mind filled to bursting, his body sore and tired, Harry headed back to the Leaky Cauldron.

Tom directed him to his private booth. “You have a visitor,” he said.

Harry lifted the curtain to find Albus Dumbledore sitting at the dining table, with his hands tucked under his chin and a disapproving look on his face. “Hello Harry.”

Chapter 8: The Dumbledore Dilemma and Heirlooms Galore

Chapter Text

Harry’s heart sped up. His palms began to feel sweaty. Bile rose in his throat He focused his attention to Dumbledore’s forehead and clenched his fists. “Good evening, Professor Dumbledore. What brings you here?”

Harry placed his hand in his pocket to find the goblin coin, hoping to come off as someone not scared.

“I heard you blew up your aunt and were staying at the Leaky Cauldron,” Dumbledore replied, frown deepening. “I wanted to make sure you were safe outside of the blood protection.”

Safe…You mean brainwashed. Harry kept his focus on Dumbledore’s forehead.

“The Minister said it was alright for me to stay here at the Leaky Cauldron until I go back to Hogwarts.” Harry feared that he would be sent back to the Dursleys. With the ‘Incident’ fresh in their minds, he would likely have quite a ‘warm’ welcome.

“If that is what was agreed, then that is ok,” Dumbledore agreed. “Come join me at the table, Harry. I want to hear about how things have been since term ended over dinner.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He still clutched the coin tightly in his left hand, the symbols digging into his skin, hoping that Dumbledore won’t discover it. If Dumbledore noticed the behavior, he didn’t mention it.

He didn’t want to eat anything in front of Dumbledore, as he was just warned less than an hour ago. “I had some food in Diagon Alley, Professor. I think I would like to go to bed right now.”

“Alright, Harry. How have things been since the start of summer?”

“I have been at the Dursley’s, as you know Professor. You know, the abusive family that you sent me to as an infant.” Harry could not control his mounting anger and spoke without thinking. He noticed that Dumbledore had been moving his wand slowly and hoped the coin would continue to protect him. Dumbledore began twirling his wand in his hand more aggressively. “Harry, I am going to run some spells to see how you are doing.”

Harry stumbled back towards the door, drawing his wand. “No thanks, Professor.”

“Harry, the room is charmed to amplify underlying emotions and emotions. You never act frightened of me before and you have never called your family abusive directly.”

Harry clutched his coin harder, as he continued to scramble backwards.

“Celerus somnum”

Harry fell asleep on the floor.

---

Dumbledore looked on as the child, a child in his care, crumpled to the floor.

You should probably check and wipe his memories, the sultry feminine voice in his head whispered to him.

He had listened to the voice more often as the years went on, no longer able to keep its suggestions at bay. His act of actively working against Harry had re-awakened his sense of honor, how little he may have left. In the beginning, he had fought tooth-and-nail against her suggestions, but this enchantress had him in her clutches before it was too late. He would fight with all he had for this last bit of freedom.

No, Dumbledore thought back. If Harry finds out what I have been doing, then I accept his judgement.

You are weak Dumbledore, the voice hissed back. This will come back to bite us.

So be it! It would be well deserved after what we have done to the poor boy.

I will watch you Dumbledore! Soon you will be back under my control and we will try again tomorrow night.

---

Harry woke the next morning, feeling refreshed. He sat upright in bed as soon as he recalled what had happened, frantically searching for his coin, which he found still in his left pocket. He had been unable to push his magic or use the needle due to fear the night before. He quickly changed while berating himself, packed all of his belongings, left his payment on the dresser, and rushed to the bank to get himself examined. An in-depth examination did not find anything new spells on him, leaving Harry very confused.

"This may be due to the coin, as it protects from spells and compulsions but not mind magics (which require eye contact), nor from potions or poisons," Griphook said once he learned of the incident.

“We can access the Potter Heirloom Vaults today, if you like,” Griphook began. Jasper accompanied them, but Topaz were nowhere to be found, now that the vaults had been completely searched and reopened. The culprit had not been found, so Harry still had the gwarsank. “The family magics will only let you after judging you.”

Harry took the harrowing cart ride down to the Potter Heirloom Vault. Large crystalline pillars formed the archway of the opaque glass-like door.

“Place your hand in the center of the doorway. If the magics deem you worthy and free of taint, they will let you in.”

Harry expected to hit a solid surface, but his hand passed through, as if through dry water. He felt the cool curtain wash over him as he stumbled through the doorway.

Shelves upon shelves of books were neatly stacked towards the back of the vault the closer shelves held jewels and portkeys (which he had read about in one of his new books). Ignoring those, Harry gravitated to the shelf in the corner with a large banner covering the top shelf, stating it was “Harry’s Emergency Shelf.” Behind the banner was a large suitcase some stuffed toys and a few letters.

The topmost letter stated: “To Harry,” which Harry opened immediately.

Hi Harry,

It’s Dad. How are you doing, Sport? I hope you never have to read this letter. We had left an emergency bookcase for you in case something happened to us. Hopefully Sirius gave you this letter himself instead of leaving it in the heirloom vault for you to find at age 13. On this shelf, you will find my old school trunk and a set of keys to open the various compartments, tied to your blood.

Hi Harry, it’s Mum. How are you doing, Love? Your dad came up with a secure way to give you your inheritance, as there is a traitor somewhere near us. In case Voldemort finds us, we have left multiple letters to help bring you up to speed as the next Head of House Potter. If Dumbledore got his way, I doubt you are acquainted with the extended Potter family overseas. If you haven’t realized this yet, be weary of Dumbledore. He has been acting increasingly erratic over the last few years.

We can worry about all that stuff later, Evans.

But it is important!

Of course love, but we will ease him into it. Don’t want to scare off our Sport before he gets started

Alright. Harry, we have more letters to you in the trunk that will help as you go along.

Now Harry, open the chest. We have other letters from both of us hidden in the various compartments.

With lots of love,

Mum and Dad

Harry's heart swelled, holding the letter in his hands. He remembered their warm embrace from the cleansing ritual, when they had saved him again. And now he held their words, their personalities reaching up from the paper. And there would be more letters like this one. Could he, Harry, the Freak in the Cupboard Under the Stairs, actually be this lucky? Reverently, he placed the letter back in the envelope and tucked it the inside pocket of his robe.

Harry looked at the shabby looking trunk that was 2 feet by 3 feet with a height of 3 feet on the shelf. It was covered in scuff marks on the expensive-looking brown leather. The metal bindings of the trunk were made from bronze with an animated Hogwarts crest in the center. Below the crest was a name plaque. Potter, it said. Next to the Trunk, a set of ancient looking keys sat on a metal hook. Harry reached for the keys with his left hand, feeling a tingle up his arm. Each key was labeled to Compartments 1, 2, and 3. There were 2 unlabeled metal keys that were smaller than the rest, which Harry decided he will find out about in due time.

He opened the first compartment, in which there were some old clothes. There were school robes, jeans, shirts, and other clothes Harry assumed belonged to his father. A letter lay stacked on top of the pile was addressed to him.

Hi Harry,

Dad again. As you see, 5 keys means 5 compartments:

1. Clothes
2. Textbooks
3. Potion, Herbology, Pens, and other school supplies
4. Family Artifacts
5. Marauder’s den (wink, wink)

The last two are secret compartments, meaning they can only be accessed by you and your magic. Chanel your energy through keys 4 and 5 when you plug them in and they should open for you. In this compartment, feel free to keep whatever you like from your old man (hopefully not that old since you were born when I was 19). Your Mum will also have notes in some of the other compartments. Keep exploring Young Marauder!

Harry was excited. His parents had literally set up a treasure hunt for him. He wanted to delve right into the trunk, but he was also curious as to what else was in vault before he left. He shrunk the trunk, placing it in his right pocket and placed the keys in his left pocket along with the gwarsank.

Looking around the chamber, he saw memoirs from his ancestors, research notes, and other tidbits that he had missed on his cursory glance. In one of the corner, there lay a stack of trunks, bags and other carrier items, left by generations of Potters. Going through them, he found many of the to be larger on the inside than on outside. One of the items was a small drawstring pouch, which he could use to carry other items in. Placing his shrunk trunk, precious letter, and keys in the pouch immediately lightened his load. He continued his explorations until the clock indicated 2 in the afternoon. He then exited his vault and called for a cart to the surface to find new lodging. After last night, it was clear that the Leaky Cauldron was not as safe as he first imagined. He was surprised that Dumbledore had not done anything, but he was not taking any chances.

As he was looking around to find another place to rent near Gringotts in Historic Alley, large emaciated black dog with scraggly fur bumped against his legs gently. He looked at it and it stared back. “I don’t have any room for a dog, so shoo,” Harry said, softly. It shook its head and wagged its tail. Did it just understand me?

Harry kept walking and the dog kept following him, weaving through the crowds as he went. “Go on now. I can’t take care of you.”

The dog gave the most baleful expression. He looked so forlorn that Harry felt his resolve weaken. “Alright, I’ll get you some food but you have to go after that. I’m looking for a place to stay that is not the Leaky Cauldron”

The dog barked and grabbed at his sleeve, as if trying to lead him to a specific stall, away from where he was currently standing.

Suddenly, an arm reached out and caught Harry’s other wrist. “Where are you going, Sonny? What are you doing out alone near Knockturn Alley?” A stocky man with a short beefy neck, scraggly grayish beard and matted brown hair asked him, leaning in. His putrid breath washed over Harry, causing him to gag.

“Nothing, Sir, just leaving with my dog.”

Harry gulped. He was too close to the convergence of the streets at the bank. Is this what the dog was trying to warn me about?

His right arm was wrenched back by another man (this one tall, blond, and just as mean-looking), who had kicked the dog away. Looking at him, the man roughly moved his hair. “It’s him, Mikey. It’s Harry Potter. Looks like we hit a jackpot. Them Death Eaters would pay a hefty sum for him.”

Chapter 9: The Underground

Chapter Text

Harry struggled vigorously against the men holding onto him. He tried to shout but was cut off by a Silencio from a third man that stood behind him. The dog kept leaping at the attackers and snarling as it was repeatedly kicked back and injured with curses. A red jet of light stopped his momentum and it crumpled to the side of the alley. Harry was determined; he was not going to be taken to Voldemort’s followers if he could help it, even if they were in hiding. He felt sorry for the dog and vowed to get them both back to safety. They took his wand before he had a moment to think and he tried to grab the goblin coin.

“Now, now,” the third man scolded from behind. “Can’t have you portkeying away Mr. Potter.” Petrificus Totalus, and Harry went down like a brick.

Pulling out one of their own portkeys, the trio transported him out of Diagon Alley.

Harry felt a hook behind his navel as they travelled faster until there was an abrupt stop. There was a large platform with rails entering and exiting a large bricked underground cavern. The walls were tiled with an old grimy sign, the white on green lettering barely discernable: Mark Lane/Tower Hill. They were in an old Underground station, by the looks of it.

“Well, well, well. Nice to see you again in such a short time, Mr. Potter.”

Harry looked into the sneering face of Lucius Malfoy, whom he had just forced to free an elf less than two months prior and said elf had attacked Mr. Malfoy on his behalf. What was he doing in a place built by the muggles he so despised?

Harry gulped. This was bad, really bad. His stomach dropped and his heart began to race, akin to when Uncle Vernon doled out his rare punishments. He stuffed his trembling hands into his pockets to steady them. His fingers curled around his wand, offering a bit of break to the overwhelming tsunami that threatened to overwhelm him. He was back in the living room, with Vernon holding a bloodied belt. His back ached. Harry shook his head. Focus! I am not there anymore!

“Hello, Mr. Malfoy,” he said, trying to sound polite and unwavering to cover his rising fear. “F-Fancy seeing you here.”

“Mugdungus, Arvice, Malcolm, Where did you find the brat?” Lucius asked, ignoring him.

“He was wandering near the bank at the edge of Knockturn and Historic, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Very well. You will be paid your price in full. You are dismissed.”

After the three men left, Malfoy Senior rounded on Harry. “You thought you could humiliate me and get away with it? Eh, Potter?” Before Harry could say anything, Malfoy Senior pulled his wand out of his walking stick and shouted, “Incarcerous!”

Ropes sprang from all corners of the room, binding Harry to the wall. Harry froze, forcing himself to blink. At least the dog isn’t here. Malfoy walked closer.

“W-What are we doing here, Mr. Malfoy?”

“Well, I guess it won’t hurt to gloat a smidgen, especially after you lost me my servant,” he sneered. “Fudge had let slip that you were left in Diagon Alley to protect you from Sirius Black. So I had some men keep an eye out for you.”

“Why would Sirius Black be after me? Isn’t he a muggle criminal?”

Lucius looked at him and let out a surprised laugh. “So…You don’t know.”

“What don’t I know…Sir?”

“Sirius Black is your godfather. He was the Secret Keeper for the Fidelius Charm that kept your parents hidden. When he got the chance, he sold the information to the Dark Lord. Peter Pettigrew, another friend of your father’s, tracked him down. Black admitted to his crimes before he blew up a muggle street with muggles and Pettigrew. The Aurors caught him laughing like a madman.”

“So Black is why I don’t have parents?” Harry’s blood began to boil. “He is why I am the godforsaken Boy-Who-Lived?”

Lucius just laughed. “Yes, Potter. Be faster on the uptake.” He paused a moment, as though contemplating something. “No Dobby to save your skin here now,” he grinned maliciously as he removed his wand from his walking stick. “Crucio.”

Hot knives started stabbing Harry from all directions and he let out a drawn out scream, begging for it to end. Lucius looked on with an evil grin. Again and again he started and stopped the Cruciatus, making Harry feel grateful the moments of respite. He felt his magic rebel against the onslaught, like it did when the Dursleys went too far. He didn’t want to pass out but he couldn’t reach the coin, nor muster the mental strength to manipulate his magic to reach it. “I-I a-am s-sorry a-about D-Dobby,”

“You don’t get to be sorry Potter. I will not kill you easily, but you need to atone for your sins. I had to use one of the filthiest old hideouts, this relic of Muggle stupidity just to get my hands on you.”

Harry gasped as he wished the elf was here to save him like last time. His pain and trauma addled brain couldn’t come up with a cohesive plan. “Dobby, I wish you were here,” he whispered. As if summoned, the elf appeared before him. He was wearing a ragged children’s orange shirt with green shorts and mismatched socks.

“Harry Potter called Dobby!” He then saw Harry and Lucius who was still pointing his wand at Harry. “Harry Potter is hurt. Bad old master hurt Harry Potter.” He snapped his fingers and the ropes snapped.

“Crucio.” The spell missed as Dobby shoved himself and Harry out of the way. Harry landed on his outstretch left hand, jarring his wrist, with the elf on his right side. “Stop interfering, you vermin.”

Harry raised his wand arm and his arm rushed back to him from behind Lucius.

Dobby locked arms with the dazed Harry, who then experienced a sensation akin to being in a tube of toothpaste. Once the sensation stopped, Harry promptly tripped over his feet and landed on his hands. “Harry Potter, sir, I brings you to my home.”

Chapter 10: Homecoming

Chapter Text

Harry was too dazed to focus much as a group of elves helped him up. The green-brown creatures were seated at 4 long tables, akin to the Great Hall at Hogwarts.

“What was that?” Harry asked, nursing his let hand. “I felt I was being sucked through a tube.”

“It was Apparition, Harry Potter,” Dobby said proudly. “Wizards and Elvesies use it to travel”

“Where are we?”

“We are at Hoggy-Warty, Harry Potter, sir,” Dobby continued. “I is finding work here after leaving the Malfoys. I is assigned to the kitchen.”

Harry sat down, noticing the benches were shorter than he remembered. “Is this the Great Hall?”

“We is below the Great Hall, Sir,” one of the other elves answered.

“Is it ok for me to be here in the castle? Wouldn’t it create more work for you? Would Dumbledore know?”

“We wouldn’t be troubled, Harry Potter!” Dobby explained. “Dobby thought yous would be safe here.”

“Thank you, Dobby,” Harry said gratefully. “You saved my life. I don’t want Dumbledore to know that I was here.”

One of the elves in a teal tea cozy spoke up. “We elvesies are loyal to the students. We will not tell the Headmaster.”

“Thank you all for your hospitality. I must return to Diagon Alley.” He turned to Dobby, “Can you take me there, Dobby?”

“But Harry Potter will not be safe.”

“Dobby, I will take precautions. It is more dangerous for me if I’m not where I am supposed to be.”

Dobby reluctantly agreed and took him to the Leaky Cauldron. “You must call Dobby if you needs Dobby,” he said as he left, green ears drooping.

“Thank you, Dobby,” Harry said as Dobby left. Harry needed to talk to Gringotts of something more secure than the coin or get used to pushing magic, lest he wind up in bigger trouble. Harry entered the pub and went to talk to Tom, the tavern owner, about security options. As he approached the counter, Tom made eye contact with Harry and gestured with his neck to the far side of the counter. Harry turned the corner to see the same large emaciated black dog from the afternoon laying morosely next to a bowl of uneaten food. Sensing footsteps, the dog looked up. Upon seeing Harry, his countenance changed. He stood up on his legs, ears perked up, tail wagging, as he slowly approached Harry.

Relieved, Harry bent down to pet the dog. “I reckoned he was yours. He found his way here and was scratching at the door.”

“He’s not mine, sir,” Harry began.

“But he has taken a liking to you.”

Harry smiled. He couldn’t deny that. “Good dog,” he said, scratching behind the ears. “Finish eating your food.” Harry turned to Tom. “Would you be alright with me keeping him?”

“As long as he stays well behaved, does not scare my elves, and does not disturb my customers, then I have no problems.”

The dog looked up from his meal and nodded along. Tom barked a laugh. “Looks like he agrees. What is his name?”

“I haven’t named him yet,” Harry said. “Scotty?” The dog raised his head and shook violently. “How about I ask you after you eat?”

Later that evening, when the elves were giving the dog a bath in the room, Harry continued to think of names aloud. Scotty, Malcolm, Netters, and countless others were rejected. “What about Scooby?” It was a dog from one of Dudley’s cartoons. The dog tilted his head to one side as if thinking. He then slowly nodded. “Scooby it is then.”

While the elves dried Scooby off, Harry decided to get organized for the day ahead. There was so much to do, and that did not include Ron and Hermione showing up later during the week. Harry laid out the miniaturized trunk, the gwarsank, his keys, the contact mirror (he had forgotten about it in all the excitement), his letter from his parents, Gringotts money pouch, the drawstring pouch from the Heirloom vault and his school supplies on his bed. He opened his trunk to see his wardrobe, textbooks, invisibility cloak, and Nimbus 2000.

He then pulled out paper and parchment. One page was his “To Do” list, another was a running inventory of where his items were, and a third was for anything else he thought of. As he was thinking, Scooby came into the room with the elves. He thanked Minty and Candy for their help as they led the dog to the dog bed at the other end of the room. Once the elves left, Harry opened his parents’ letter, specifically to his Dad’s note:

Hi Harry,

Dad again. As you see, 5 keys means 5 compartments:

1. Clothes
2. Textbooks
3. Potion, Herbology, Pens, and other school supplies
4. Family Artifacts
5. Marauder’s den (wink, wink)

The last two are secret compartments, meaning they can only be accessed by you and your magic. Chanel your energy through keys 4 and 5 when you plug them in and they should open for you. In this compartment, feel free to keep whatever you like from your old man (hopefully not that old since you were born when I was 19). Your Mum will also have notes in some of the other compartments. Keep exploring Young Marauder!

Harry tapped the trunk with his wand, and it enlarged to its regular size. He tried focusing on how his magic moved when he did so, but still just observing. He still felt no control over the subject. He opened the first compartment to find a full armoire spring from with slightly worn clothes in mostly reds and golds. A vivid blue letter visible below the hanging clothes.

Hi Harry,

Mum here. I saved some of Dad’s clothes and bought some for you for school. Feel free to keep what you like. Many of the robes can adjust magically to fit your size. Try them on let us know what you think!

Harry found that the magic held for the robes, but the shirts and pants were too large on him. He decided to keep all the clothes for future wear as what the Dursleys had given him were no where of quality. He kept 2 sets of clothes from the Dursleys and the rest he threw into the discard pile. He took his two emerald Weasley sweaters and folded them onto one of the shelves for safe keeping. He also made a note to go shopping the next day for essentials and other new clothes so he could look nice for once at Hogwarts. He needed to ask about the nutrition plan and security issues with the goblins.

Scooby sat in the corner observing quietly. Harry felt unnerved having another presence around, so he talked aloud while he worked. “I live with my mum’s sister, Petunia Dursley. Those clothes are my cousin’s old cast-offs. I learned a lot about myself recently, so I am doing some belated spring cleaning.”

The dog looked solemn as Harry talked. Hedwig was out flying so Harry felt obligated to engage his new pet. “Scooby, I will play with you once I finish cleaning. Could you wait for me?”

Scooby wagged his tail and then curled up with a small yip. Taking that as a yes, Harry closed his first compartment. The second compartment contained all the textbooks he would need for his seven years of Hogwarts and then some. He luckily hadn’t bought his textbooks yet, and looking at his list, he wouldn’t need to get any new ones. There was another vivid, neon blue letter in this compartment.

Hi Harry,

Mum here. I’ve saved a copy of our textbooks from our school days. They shouldn’t change much over the 10-20 years after our graduation. I don’t know what courses they will offer you during your third year, but I would recommend taking Runes, Arithmancy, and Wandless Magic. I think the maximum was 4 elective classes if you had extracurricular activities or 5 without extracurricular activities. I took all 3 and Care of Magical Creatures

Dad here, Sport. I took Care of Magical Creatures and Runes. 2 was the minimum number of classes we could take, and I was more of a self-study person. Plus, there were a lot of side projects I was involved with. Have Uncles Moony and Padfoot tell you more. If your are reading this, then Wormtail betrayed our location to Moldyshorts and he is no longer part of this family.

Harry first assumed that Wormtail was Sirius Black based on the news reports and Lucius Malfoy. But then he remembered his parents personally told him to trust Sirius in the ritual room.

Harry put his letter down and looked at his parents’ books from the first and second year. Harry had placed some notes in the margins of his books and his mother seemed to have the same habit. His father had notes on sheets of lose paper, which his mother had placed in the correct places in her own textbooks. Harry placed his copies of the books by the older copy, planning to go through them to compare once he had the time. He placed the Monster-Book-of-Monsters in its own drawer, still with a belt around it, so it wouldn’t ruin any of the other textbooks. Harry planned to visit his study nook the following day to get the rest of his books placed in the trunk as well before he closed the Textbook compartment.

The third compartment held school supplies. It was organized by sections, with an area for Potions, an area for Herbology, and area for Care of Magical creatures, and an area for stationery. His mother had been an avid Potioneer and the potion cabinets were almost as well organized as Professor Snape’s. There were pens and pencils with a rare quill and inkpot. His mother apparently had the same idea as him; using muggle supplies was so much easier. After placing his own meager supplies in this compartment, Harry looked forward to the last two compartments.

He held the fourth key and placed it in the slot. He again tried to wield his magic, but he couldn’t. He was able to picture his magical core better, but that was about it. He placed all his parents’ letters in their relative compartments, with the original being in his clothing compartment for safekeeping.

Harry looked over at Scooby, noticing the dog had fallen asleep. He closed his trunk and shrunk it, putting it next to his keys on his pillow. The shrunk trunk reminded him of a pager, something that Dudley had started using in the summer because it was “cool.” Now that his trunk was organized, Harry looked towards his larger-on-the inside drawstring pouch. He then then looked at his other possessions still strewn about. He thought back to the night he left the Dursley household. Harry had been planning to ride his Nimbus 2000 to sneak back to Hogwarts. If I place the Nimbus in the pouch, it would give me an easy means of transport and a possible escape route. Harry placed his broomstick in his pouch. He then placed his invisibility cloak with the same reasoning of a quick access get-away. He also put his keys and Gringotts money pouch into his drawstring pouch for easy access.

Harry placed his trunk and pouch in his right robe pocket and the gwarsank with the contact mirror into his left robe pocket. He then laid out a set of jeans and a shirt to wear under his robes. Now that the clothes were organized, Harry looked at his notes. The inventory list he placed with is parent’s letters in his clothing compartment, before planning for the day ahead. There were so many questions floating in his head.

Questions (for later)

1. Branch families? Likely in later letters?
2. Uncles Padfoot and Moony?
3. Why trust Black?
4. Who was Wormtail?
5. What is in the last 2 compartments?

Harry rubbed his eyes, placing his glasses on the nightstand. He felt that Scooby would protect him during the night if someone came uninvited. He then took theguarsank from his robes and placed it under this pillow for extra passive protection. He smiled to himself before he let his dreams take flight.

Chapter 11: Gathering the Pieces

Chapter Text

The next day found Harry and Scooby at Gringotts early in the morning. It was bustling with students as term was starting in 10 days. Harry had a difficult time tracking down Griphook after standing in line for an hour. The teller was a goblin he had not worked with before. Peridot was new to the job and it took him some time to locate Griphook.

After giving his thanks, Harry began to follow him with Scooby. “Could we assign the Potter Account manager today?” Harry asked. “If possible, I would like you to take the job Griphook.”

Griphook smiled, showing his steel gray serrated teeth. “It would be my pleasure Mr. Potter. I will signal Jasper so he can witness the contract.”

“Can my dog come as well? I don’t want him to get lost in the crowd.”

“We can have him wait in the corner if he behaves, Mr. Potter.”

This room was a copy of the wooden room Harry had seen on his first trip to the bank, albeit smaller. Jasper was delighted to hear that the Account Manager issue would now be settled. The three of them sat at the table as Griphook pulled out one of the generic contracts. “Per this contract, I will officially manage the Potter Accounts and report back monthly to their status. This includes all transactions and pending loans. Sign here if you agree Mr. Potter,” he said, pointing at the bottom of the page. Harry read the contract, which pleased the goblins, and it was as stated. The account manager could invest money for a percentage of the interest earned on the investment. Harry would get regular statements in the mail along with updates on Gringotts’ services.

Once the contract was signed by both parties, Jasper bid them adieu to go back to his guarding post.

“Alright Mr. Potter, what would you like to discuss today.”

“Now that the audit is complete and we have an idea of where the Potter money is, how long can I keep the Guarsank? Also, I can’t really use it because I still can’t move my magic. Is there a way to get a tutor or good books for wandless magic?”

“That was a misstep on our part. We goblins cannot legally wield wands, so we are used to working with our magic without a conduit. Wandless magic comes naturally to us. I don’t know much about tutors of wandless magic but will research that for you. A Guarsank usually is not a long-term solution, as it needs goblin magic to recharge it every week or so. I would recommend leaving it here today, since it will take time for you to master your magic.” Harry handed the coin over. “Let’s look at other security options for you. What are your thoughts?”

“I was thinking about using my drawstring pouch for a quick access get-away,” Harry began as he placed his pouch on the table. “I already placed my broomstick, invisibility cloak, keys, and money pouch inside.”

Griphook looked at the pouch. “Smart thinking Mr. Potter. How do you know what to get from your pouch?”

“I was thinking of reading ahead about summoning spells. For now, I stick my arm in and rummage around until I find what I am looking for.”

“That will work for now since you don’t have many items. These pouches were designed to allow the user to visualize the objects when they reach inside allowing, with a push of magic, to bring up the necessary items.”

Harry looked confused.

“When you practice magic, you visualize what you want to happen as you cast the spell.”

Harry nodded along.

“This is a similar concept. You need a good minds eye to use this. Visualization and willpower are two of the cornerstones of all magic. Mastering this skill will help you along your path in learning wandless magic.”

“Thank you. I had another question regarding my health. I want to start on a nutrition plan based on Red’s recommendations from the ceremony. Can I discuss these with a Goblin healer?”

“Certainly. I will get you scheduled to see someone tomorrow morning to get you started.” He looked sheepish. “Mr. Potter, we were so focused on the theft that we let your health go by the wayside. Thank you for reminding me.”

Harry felt embarrassed that someone was apologizing to him. He felt he never had that with the Dursleys and, even though his friends were great, they weren’t that good at admitting their mistakes.

“Thank you for scheduling the meeting… I was wondering how I should store my wand? I have seen my professors carrying them in wand holsters and I read that they were the preferred method.”

“It’s dangerous to carry a wand without a holster. Think of it like a radioactive device. There are no problems in the short term, but humans can have serious complications if skin or clothing is in contact with the wand for too long. I’m not sure about wand lore, but perhaps a wand maker can help?”

“I don’t want to go back to Ollivander’s, if possible.”

“There are a few shops in Historic Alley. Again, my lack of access to wands prevents me from being knowledgeable on the subject. Any other questions Mr. Potter?”

“I received a contact mirror from Gringotts after the ceremony. I was wondering how long I could keep it, as it was for employees only. Also, I wasn’t sure how to use it?”

“The mirror works like the telephone in the muggle world. One of our patrons came up with the idea upon living in the Muggle world. You press a button on the left side of the mirror and a number pad will descend from the mirror. Dial the number of the contact or speak their name into the mirror and it should connect. Much better than the wizard Floo calls; now we can avoid the soot! Anyway, you can keep the mirror Mr. Potter. Since you don’t have many other means to protect yourself. You are also the last of the Potters in Britain. Be mindful that no one else learns of them.”

“Thank you! May I still use this to contact Bill Weasley and Andromeda Tonks?”

“Yes, if they have given you permission.”

“I also do not want to stay at the Leaky Cauldron with Dumbledore having easy access to the establishment. Can I rent a room at Gringotts until I find a safe alternative?”

“I think Tom the Barman would notice you missing and report it to Dumbledore.” Griphook frowned in deep thought. “Do you have a house elf you can trust? Their magic is nigh undetectable, unlike Goblin wards and magics.”

“Yes. Dobby saved me from some kidnappers yeste-“ Harry paused, realizing he forgot to mention to Griphook he was kidnapped by Death Eaters the day before.

“You were kidnapped yesterday, Mr. Potter? How is it that I am just hearing about this from you?”

It was Harry’s turn to be sheepish. “Sorry Mr. Griphook. It completely slipped my mind.” He continued to explain what had transpired.

Griphook thought for a moment. “The situation is more dire than I imagined. Call your house elf and let’s get the two of you scanned for spells in the medical wing as we plan our next steps.”

“What about the appointment?”

Griphook smiled, showing his teeth. “I think this is of more importance than a mere appointment. We will have you discuss your scan results once we have secure lodgings for you.”

“Dobby, can you come here?” Harry called out.

“Dobby is here, Harry Potter,” he said as he popped into existence.

“Greetings Mr. Dobby. My name is Griphook and I am the Potter Account Manager. I heard that Mr. Potter was kidnapped by Death Eaters yesterday and you assisted him. We may need your help to allow him to lodge here at Gringotts until his school term starts.”

“Dobby will help. What must he do?”

“We are headed to the medial wing to recheck both of you for any enchantments. Mr. Potter went through a complete magical cleansing a few days ago, but we want to confirm that both of you are clean before we proceed with the protection plan. Can you explain elf magic to myself and Mr. Potter?”

“Us elvesies need to be on magical land to survive. Being bound to a master is better because it directly feeds our… our life? Dobby doesn’t understand how it works completely. Our magic helps with household chores in exchange for the magic of the master or the land. This includes apparition and creating body doubles for our masters. We is not able to do transfigurations, charms or other magics not related to housework or protecting the master’s family.”

“Thank you, Mr. Dobby. I was thinking you could have dinner at the Leaky Cauldron and then Mr. Dobby could apparate you to Gringotts for the evening, while sleeping as you at the Leaky Cauldron. Would that be ok for both of you Mr. Potter and Mr. Dobby?”

“Dobby will gladly help Harry Potter!”

“Dobby, thank you. I really appreciate this. Because of my upbringing, I have to take some nutrition potions to make me healthy. Would you like to officially bond with me when I can magically feed the bond?”

Dobby’s eyes were as round as saucers before he started wailing. “Thank you, Harry Potter, sir. It is an honor.”

“Thank you, Dobby and Griphook for doing so much to help me out… Dobby, I have a new dog,” Harry gestured to Scooby, who was following behind the trio. “I know we can only have one pet at Hogwarts, but I really want to keep him. Would you be able to take him with you and keep him safe at Hogwarts? I’ll figure something out once I get to the castle.”

“Yes, Harry Potter, sir. I can get him to Hogwarts tonight.”

“Let me talk to him for a second. Are you ok with that Mr. Griphook?”

“As long as Scooby and Mr. Dobby leave after the scans are completed.”

Harry paused and called out to Scooby. “Hey Scooby. My friend Dobby will take you to Hogwarts. I will be there in 2 weeks but I need you to be safe. I already have a pet and I don’t think I would be allowed a second one, so I’m sneaking you in. Are you ok with it?”

The dog got more and more excited as Harry talked, barking in seemingly consent.

“That is one intelligent dog, Mr. Potter,” Griphook commented. “I wonder if he is part Grim.”

“Not sure, Mr. Griphook.”

The trio and the dog arrived at the medical wing a few minutes later. Once the scans cleared Harry and Dobby, Dobby left with Scooby, planning to return in the evening at the Leaky Cauldron.

Healer Ruby was in the wing and Harry recognized her from the ceremony. “Thank you for being present at the cleansing ritual last week, Healer Ruby.”

“No problem, Mr. Potter. Griphook told me that you want to discuss your scans and medications in detail?”

“Yes. Would you have time to do so today?”

“I would like to have Mr. Red Rowan present as we discuss the results and treatments. I will give you his recommended nutrition potion for tonight, but we would have to have a longer discussion soon.”

“Thank you.”

Harry left the bank in higher spirits that afternoon but felt empty without Scooby following closely by his side. He made a beeline for Genealogy for the Ages to pick up his books from his reading room. He again inserted his key into the keyhole and tapped the wall with his wand in the correct order. Placing his books inside the pouch and clearing out his reading nook made him feel in better control of his surroundings, with less chance of Dumbledore or Death Eaters catching him unawares. The built-in feather-light charms on his drawstring pouch made carrying his items. He kept his miniature trunk and contact mirror together in his left pocket, while his pouch was in his right pocket. Harry didn’t want his mirror to get crushed with his other belongings.

He asked the lady at the reception for a new map before traveling to Victor’s Vestments for new robes. Vertastori Victor was a portly older gentleman with a balding scalp and large gray-auburn sideburns that would make Uncle Vernon’s mustache jealous. His enthusiasm for his craft was evident in his excitement as he discussed the various upcoming robe styles across the continent. Many of these styles were not sold at Madame Malkins as she believed European fashions were not British enough.

“Are you able to make clothing accessories?” Harry asked.

“Certainly Mr. Potter. What do you have in mind?”

“I would like a wire attachment that could hold a miniature trunk to a belt or pair of trousers.” Harry remembered the pagers many teenagers were carrying around and wanted to have a pager-like holster for his miniature trunk that he could attach to his clothing. All his important belongings were now in the small trunk with the large trunk being for show and filled with Dudley’s castoffs. Mr. Victor understood what Harry was describing and the two debated as he drew the prototype.

“Your trunk holster should be ready by tomorrow, along with your robes… I noticed you were carrying a pouch. Before pockets were sown onto clothing, pouches like that were very popular. You just need to tie the drawstrings around a belt or belt-loop and they are designed not to fall off.”

Harry hadn’t thought about what to do with his pouch. “Thank you!” He could now secretly carry his trunk and pouch on his belt while his mirror was in his pocket.

Harry next went to Jergin’s Wands down the street. It sold a variety of wand holsters made from dragon hide, crocodile leather, plant leather, and kelpie fur. Harry chose a black Norwegian Ridgeback wand holster for his left forearm and planned to come back to the shop in the near future to ask about wand lore and wandless magic.

He then traveled to History Unraveled and a Penchant for Parchment, the sister shops from where he had purchased some of his books the previous week. He purchased Wandless Magic: Beginner’s Guide and Wandless Magic: Historically and Socially for further study. He wanted to ask Mr. Jergin’s specific questions on his next visit, while he tried to work on his wandless magic.

That evening, he ate dinner at the Leaky Cauldron before pretending to go to bed. Dobby met him in his room and apparated him to Gringotts. At Gringotts, he was shown to the guest quarters. Harry placed his robes, miniature trunk and pouch on the chair and fell asleep before he could even think about changing out of his day clothes.