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Chapter Text

In the dark Gryffindor dormitories, the air crackled with Magic as Harry, gasping for breath, hit the floor hard in a state of panic. His heart pounded in his chest nearly beating through his skin as cold beads of sweat tricked down his forehead. Wand tip nearly alight with spellfire as he backed into the corner of the window by his bed.

Emerald eyes darting about the room, frantically searching for a hidden threat. Scarlet and golden bed hangings seeming to writhe in the shadows, playing tricks on his imagination driven to overdrive in terror. Every flicker of fabric catching his attention causing his grip to tighten on his wand.

With each ragged breath, the room felt suffocating and claustrophobic, as if it were bearing down upon him, He could almost sense the presence of a snake, no not a snake, the Basilisk. Any second now he would see the baleful glare of its dark yellow eyes flecked with crimson.

But no eyes appeared, as the panic began to subside ragged breath beginning to even out slowly, but steadily, Harry with a trembling hand and wand still pointed at shadows reached out with the other for his glasses, grabbing them and clinging to them as if they were a lifeline reached and quickly pushed them on. The cool metal of the frames against his skin sent a rush of relief as the world came back into focus.

His eyes darted about the room, this time with a newfound sense of clarity. The shadows which before felt sinister, unyielding and encroaching were revealed to be nothing more than ordinary objects bathed in darkness and partially revealed in dim moonlight. The bedhanging's, once twisted and threatening, now seemed warmer and inviting.

Taking a deep breath, Harry realized that he’d been caught in the grip of a vivid and terrifying nightmare, again, his third in as many days– a haunting reminder of the basilisk and the terrifying events that had unfolded in the Chamber of Secrets. The aftereffects still clung to him like the foulness and blood he’d been coated in when he walked into Dumbledore’s office with a nearly catatonic Ginny, an overwhelmed Ron, and an unfortunately conscious Lockheart in tow.

The dormitory, bathed in the soft white glow of moonlight, felt like a sanctuary now. The familiar distant sounds of his dorm mates breathing softly in their sleep, A comforting reminder of his friends, slowly the sense of isolation and vulnerability began to ebb away.

Wand still in his hand he pushed himself off the cold floor, looking around the room pushing the scattered remnants of his latest nightmare from his mind, he saw the dorm room as it always was warm and comforting.

‘Harry?... are you okay?’ a soft voice spoke out of the darkness

Head whipping around to find the source of the sound, Harry saw he wasn’t the only one awake. His own Emerald eyes met the verdant green of Neville’s and saw the concern in their depths.

‘Neville? Oh merlin, I'm sorry did I wake you’ Harry mumbled, shoulders drooping and looking at the floor ashamedly, his nightmares were his to deal with, he shouldn’t be disturbing his friends sleep with his own problems, he thought as he slumped against his bed, exhausted from the adrenalin dump his nightmare had triggered.

A moment passed and he felt a cold glass being pressed against his hand, looking up to see Neville standing next to him in his pajamas Neville had brought him a glass of water without him asking for it.

‘Don’t worry about it harry, here drink this’ He said gently taking a seat on his own bed, neighboring Harry’s on the right, with a still deeply sleeping Ron on his left.

Feeling touched by Neville’s support, harry accepted the glass and took a few sips, the cool water washing away the final vestiges of fear and panic. The water feeling like an elixir soothing his parched throat and calming his nerves

As he placed the glass on the bedside stand, he found his gaze finally meeting his friend

‘Thanks, Neville,’ Harry spoke lightly the gratitude coming through his voice ‘I appreciate it, and again I'm sorry I woke you’

Neville shrugged his shoulders lightly shaking his head once ‘Don’t worry about it harry’ Neville replied before taking a breath before briefly breaking eye contact as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know if he should. A moment passed before he spoke, stuttering slightly as he did

‘You g-got caught u-up in something again d-didn't you, like last year’

‘Yeah Neville, I did’ Harry admitted, shoulders slumping again feeling the weight lay across him heavily

‘I’m sorry these things keep happening to you Harry’ Neville spoke with a confidence and assurance that Harry had never heard from him before.

It somewhat startled Harry a little, No one had ever really said something like that to him before. Not about the events of his first year with Quirrell and the Stone, Merlin he’d had nightmares about that for months. Suffocation by devil’s snare, watching Ron get hit with debris from his stone mount being crushed by the Queen’s poleaxe and seeing him bloody amongst the debris. Not even about his parents, they just say what an honor it is to meet him. For something he didn’t do, didn’t remember and for something that made him loose his mother and Father.

The Mirror chamber still gave him nightmares, The twisted manifestation of Voldemort on the back of Quirrell's head, and the worst was the feeling of Quirrell's face crumbling beneath his hands, and his screams of agony as he burned...
Harry had to learn to wake up terrified, but had to learn to do so silently, not wanting to draw the Dursley’s Wrath. Life at the Dursley’s had never been easy for harry. But after the unfortunate dinner party, and the reminder letter from the Ministry and warning informing the Dursleys that he couldn’t use magic outside of Hogwarts. Things had gotten much worse.

Harry gave Neville a weak smile as he earnestly said ‘Thank you Nev, I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me before’ Harry felt something of a dam break inside him for a moment as he continued talking

‘These nightmares.... some of it’s the things I've seen, the rest is everyone else's attitudes to me, sometimes it’s like they don’t see me as a student, even if I can look after myself, hell I'd take looking after myself if I didn’t have to go where I go for the summer’

Unknown to Harry, Neville’s eyes spiked wider in shock at that statement.

‘Even about my parents, they always say how much I look like my dad, or that I have my mother’s eyes. Even the teachers do it when I do well in class, I spent days working on the damned first stage animate to inanimate transfiguration, and McGonagall just says how proud my dad would be, or how good my mother was at charms.’ Harry nearly whisper shouted, exhaustion briefly forgotten as he was about to stand and pace until a snort and snore from Ron’s bed quickly reminded him that others were sleeping.

Looking back to Neville, He noticed more than just empathy in his friend’s eyes; he saw a brief flash of something else – a flicker of understanding, perhaps even relatability. He’d heard Neville’s stories about his own childhood, of being dropped out of a window by his uncle or pushed off a pier in Blackpool. He knew Neville’s attitude and demeanor well by now, quiet, shy, almost closed off, never the first one to say something or start a conversation with someone, he recognized some of those traits, saw them in the mirror every morning.

It hit him like a bludger in the chest. Neville wasn’t so different from Harry. Taking another look at Neville, and seeing the earnestness of his friend, who would sit up with him in the early hours of the morning just to make sure he was alright after a nightmare, and to listen to his whispered ranting. Who, throughout the year even with the Heir of Slytherin nonsense after his parseltounge had slipped out in public, still believed Harry would have nothing to do with attacking the other students. Not even the whole of Gryffindor had believed him, but Neville did.

He didn’t even really know Neville that much, he knew that he lived with his grandmother, but he didn’t know why. Neville was practically a Herbology prodigy but struggled in the other classes. He didn’t even know what his hobbies were, who were his other friends, did he have other friends? He'd never seemed that close to anyone else. He sat with him and Hermione when Ron had gotten bored of revision and wandered off to do something that interested him more, like chess, or just staring out the window.

Looking out of the window he’d been crushed up against in his panic five minutes earlier, he looked out of the window and saw the Hogwarts grounds still cloaked in silent darkness, The Forbidden Forest looming in the distance its tree’s standing as sentinels on the border of Hogwarts proper. The Black Lake vast and Mirror still, reflecting the stars like shimmering gemstones. A minute passed in comfortable silence between Harry and Neville, and a subtle transformation began to take place, the dark canvas of the night sky slowly shifted revealing hints of deep blue as the first hints of dawn. The stars slowly began to surrender their hold of the sky, giving way to the golden light fast approaching the horizon.

In that fleeting moment of dawn, Harry knew he needed to be a better friend to Neville, he deserved that from him. Getting to his feet and stretching out his limbs sore from hitting the stone floor of his dorm room and the thrashing he must have been doing in his sleep.

‘I don’t think I'm going to be able to sleep after that honestly,’ Harry spoke breaking companionable silence once more ‘I’m going to change and head down to the common room for a bit and let you get some more sleep’ smiling softly as he whispered to Neville.

‘I’ll join you If you don’t mind’ Neville quickly responded ‘I honestly don’t need much sleep in the summer anyway, I'd be getting up in an hour or so any way’ Neville responded, shaking his head and smiling back when harry made to try and get Neville to go back to bed. ‘it’s a Herbologists nature to keep up with the sun’ Neville whispered with a grin as if he was sharing a secret with harry.

A surprised chuckle escaped Harry’s lips at Neville’s quip, “I think that’s the first joke I've ever heard you say” he thought to himself, amused by the unexpected humor from his usually reserved friend, it was a surprise, and good one too, to see another facet of the reserved boy’s personality.

As they both prepared to head down to the common room, Harry reached for his one set of casual robes- a simple dark blue outfit he’d manage to convince Mrs. Weasley to let him buy before the beginning of the school year. The robes while worn-in and showing signs of wear, with their self-cleaning and temperature regulation charms beginning to fade, were quite precious to him, they were the first clothes he’d bought for himself that weren't his school uniform, and more importantly they weren’t the wretched and ruined hand-me-downs the Dursley’s had forced him to wear.

As they descended the spiral staircase leading to the common room, harry couldn’t help but notice the slow transformation occurring around him, the enchanted portraits lining the common room beginning to stir from their slumber, some even offered a sleepy nod of greeting to the two of them as they passed.

The Gryffindor common room with its cozy fireside and comfortable armchairs exuded an inviting warmth, the fire was out, but the ashes had been cleaned out and logs stacked ready for use should there be a need for a crackling fire at any point during the day. It was the Scottish Highlands after all even if it was the third day of June. Just over three weeks until Hogwarts would be done for the year.

Harry and Neville sank into a set of deep armchairs near one of the tall arched windows with gorgeous views of the sunrise across the grounds of Hogwarts.

‘You know I always wondered what spell resets the fireplace every night’ harry said attempting to start a conversation with Neville about something to break the silence. Neville didn’t start conversations, but to be honest Harry didn’t either he had Ron and Hermione for that, perhaps he should try too a bit more.

Harry’s odd statement seemed to catch Neville by surprise as a look of bemusement crossed his round face

‘It’s not a spell, the Hogwarts house elves do it’ Neville replied with trying to hide a smile and a little confusion by looking out over the grounds before looking back at Harry's face which had morphed into one of shock, and thinking of Dobby a bit of horror

‘Hogwarts has house elves? You're telling me Hogwarts keeps slaves’ Harry said loudly voice tinged with a little anger

"No, no, no, they're not slaves," Neville quickly stuttered in response, taken aback by the intensity in Harry's voice. "House elves need to be bound to a location or family. It's more of a magical bond, and they find fulfillment in serving their masters. Elves can't really survive without the bond, it’s what allows them to access the magic without hurting themselves"

The anger in Harry's eyes softened slightly as he listened to Neville's explanation. "I met a house elf, well, technically at the beginning of the year," he began, recounting the encounter with Dobby. "He tried to stop me from going to Hogwarts by stealing my mail and even tried to set the Ministry on me."

Neville’s expression changed to one of surprise and confusion as he listened to Harry’s explain his encounters with Dobby. ‘He fought the bond to his family to try and protect you’ Neville asked, genuinely intrigued by the situation. “I've never heard of a house elf doing something like that before, his bond can't have been healthy to do something like that. House elves are supposed to be treated well, it's part of the bond, the nearly symbiotic link between the elven and family magic, what is he like, this elf?”

‘He was interesting’ Harry admitted, thinking back to Dobby’s attempts to keep him safe, misguided attempts, but heartfelt Harry thought. ‘His ideas on protection were, well weird, and straight up dangerous in some cases, He was the one behind the rogue bludger that fixated on me in the Slytherin game this year’ Neville’s eyes went wide at that ‘but I could tell he did genuinely care though’

A pang of anger gnawed at harry as he recalled how Draco Malfoy’s father treated Dobby in Dumbledore’s office a few days previously. ‘After seeing how Malfoy Senior treated him, I Felt bad for him’

Neville had a look of discomfort on his face hearing that ‘I’m not surprised he was a Malfoy elf then. I doubt Lucius Malfoy is even capable of treating an elf with indifference let alone respectfully. Poor thing’

‘it’s all sorted now though, I managed to trick the blond prick into freeing his own elf by accident’ Harry laughed out with a grin on his face

‘How’d you manage that?’ Neville asked, leaning forward in his chair, a laugh beginning to colour his features.

‘It was after the events of... Well... I'll tell you about that mess another time, but Malfoy stormed into Dumbledore’s office demanding to know why he was back in the school after he’d bribed or threatened the board of governors to force Dumbledore from the castle, he was furious. He was deeply involved in the whole Chamber of Secrets being re-opened, he’d snuck a really dark artefact, a diary, into the school in the hands of a unknowing student” Harry stopped short there, tempted to tell Neville everything, but thought better of it Neville didn’t need to know about the possession yet, not about Voldemort’s shade haunting the halls for the second year in a row.

‘He slipped It into someone's cauldron with the rest of their books when they were in Diagon doing their school shopping, it’s the only way I can think of it happening.’ keep Ginny out of it for now, harry thought trying to omit some of the details but still give Neville a bit of insight into what’s been going on all year.

Harry told Neville the rest of the story, He’d told this same story to Ron, and Hermione after she’d been woken up. Seeing Malfoy launched down the entrance hall by his own former servant, almost made up for the nasty curse Malfoy had tried to cast on him. Harry standing up and re-enacting Malfoy getting launched by throwing himself back in his chair, had Neville in stitches.

A quiet followed for a few minutes as the two sat and watched the grounds grow ever lighter, the sun had risen just above the horizon. The blazing orb breaching the horizon and bathing the grounds in glorious golden summer dawn.

‘So, what happened after you freed Dobby Harry?’ Neville broke the silence

‘I... I don’t know, he kind of just left, I hope he’s found somewhere nice. Maybe a new family, or just some fun, doubt he’s had much of that. Though he might be at Hogwarts since apparently Hogwarts has Elves here’ Harry Replied

Neville’s grew pensive for a moment before he quietly stated ‘Try calling him’ a look of confusion crossed Harry for a moment ‘No seriously, try reaching for him and call him’ Neville continued ‘I've got an idea’.

Feeling a little foolish, Harry called out Dobby’s name.

With a sharp crack, Harry felt a surprisingly strong pressure on one of his legs as the little creature appeared and immediately latched onto his leg.

‘The great Harry Potter calls dobby’ Dobby excitably announced, looking up at Harry with adoration. Something that made Harry feel a little uncomfortable.

‘Yous call Dobby Great Harry Potters sir, whats can dobby be doings for the great Harry Potter’ dobby babbled quickly still latched onto Harry’s leg.

He was still in a sorry state Harry thought as he looked over Dobby, a few less bandages, the bruising no longer fresh but now a mottled brown, purple and green against his pinkish grey skin.

‘Hello Dobby’ Harry said Smiling at the small being latched to his leg like a limpet.

‘I was just wondering how you were doing with your freedom; do you need anything?’

Dobby tightened his hold on Harry’s leg and begun wailing, the little house-elf was overwhelmed with gratitude and sorrow, and his words tumbled out in halting sobs

‘Such a kind great wizard dobby has ever met’ he cried tears streaming down his sallow cheeks ‘first he frees poor Dobby, then he asks if he can helps dobby more. Dobby does not deserve the Great Harry Potters kindness, not after dobby’s bluddger, ohhh dobby knows he’d done right when turning on the bad, bad dark wizards malf..’ Dobby froze a moment there feverishly looking around the room and letting go of Harry’s leg and made to throw himself at the solid grey stone wall for the insult to his old family.

Harry acted swiftly with the reflexes of his two years of quidditch and a lifetime at the Dursleys quickly grabbed onto the back of the dirty partly torn pillowcase Dobby used as clothes, stopping him from hurting himself.

‘Stop it dobby’ harry firmly spoke ‘They are not your family anymore; you don’t have to keep hurting yourself for them’

Dobby’s eyes flickered wide with disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite comprehend what Harry was saying. He’d spent so long, bound to the Malfoys and the cruel treatment, that the idea of freedom and kindness was utterly foreign to him. He stopped pulling against Harry and trembling slightly turned away from the wall towards Harry.

‘Would you like to sit down with us’ Neville spoke out softly

Dobby’s eyes frantically switched back and forth from Harry to Neville, it seemed like he’d only just noticed the young wizard sitting the

‘This is my friend Neville Longbottom, Dobby, and please sit with us for a moment’ Harry said, as he indicated to another comfortable deep red leather armchair next to his own.

‘Yous must also be a great and kind wizard, Mister Longbottoms sir’ Dobby stuttered out nearly overwhelmed yet again by kindness from not just his great Harry Potter, but now another wizard who is his Great Harry Potter’s friend Dobby thought happily to himself.

Still looking between the two young wizards both smiling at him he tentatively and shakily lifted himself into the armchair, being dwarfed by the luxurious and comfortable leather chair. He sat for a moment still fighting the occasional sob.

Neville spoke first before Harry could talk ‘How is your magic coping with being free Dobby?’ he questioned softly

Dobby with still glistening eyes and tear tracked cheeks looked at Neville and quietly responded ‘Dobbys is being alright for nows Great mister Longbottom, is not dangerous yet, Hoggywarts be good for elves even without a bond, lots of good magic from all the young ones soaked into the stones’

Harry flinched slightly when Dobby mentioned it wasn’t dangerous yet. Harry’s mind was stuck on the “yet” part of the diminutive creatures' words, his thoughts weighing heavily on the fact that his friend? Yes friend, would be in danger soon.

‘What do you mean by its not dangerous yet dobby’ Harry questioned gently

‘Elveses are meant to be bounded Great Harry Potter’ Dobby replied ‘we’ses can't be unbound for long when we’s older, we’s can’t be drawing on the magic of the world unfiltered, it’s not right magic for elves, it be unkind to elveses, hurts us and unravellers us if left too longs’ Dobby finished with a shudder and a dark look in his eyes.

A spike of concern and a little fear ran down Harry’s spine at Dobby’s words, but that flash of terror in Dobby’s eyes as he spoke about unraveling hit him like a stinging hex to the neck, he’d seen fear in those eyes before, when Dobby tried to give him information about what was going on at school this year and was fearful of the Malfoys. But this was different, what he saw in that flash was sheer terror.

A surge of determination filled Harry, he had an idea, but he was unsure how Dobby would react to it. But if he could help, he would.

‘Dobby, I want to help you’ Harry said softly looking directly into the elf’s eyes ‘if you don’t want to, I completely understand, but maybe, if you want to, would you like to bond with me? I.. I don’t have any family so it would just be me, and I won’t have much work for you but...’ Harry choked on his words a little, as Dobby lunched himself from the armchair he was sitting in and was once again wrapped around his leg sobbing.

‘Yes, Great Master Harry, yes, dobby wants to be part of Great master's Family’ Dobby bawled between words, the any fear long gone, replaced with elation. It took nearly half an hour to get Dobby to calm down, reassuring words from both Harry and Neville, that yes, Harry really did want to bond to him, and that he would definitely be happy with any work that he would want to do for him, after this, Dobby calmed down a little, not a great deal mind but a little, and enough to properly tell Harry that he would love nothing more than to be his Great Master Harry Potter’s own house elf.

‘So how do we do this’ Harry asked both Neville and Dobby having everyone sat back down in their comfortable armchairs by the window.

‘we’s need to be outside, Elf bonding is old magic, is part of wild magic, now is auspicious times too, dawn be very good for elf bond’ dobby babbled excitedly.

In the soft glow of the early morning, Harry, Neville and Dobby made their way out of the portrait and int the castle. The Castle was quiet, the only sound being the faint rustle of their robes and the soft padding of their leather soles on stone. As they descended, the enchanted portraits seemed to stir from their slumber, occasionally painted eyes followed the unlikely trio with curiosity and intrigue.

As they made their way out of the entrance hall and onto the grounds of Hogwarts, the world was bathed in the soft hues of dawn, The air was crisp, carrying the scent of freshly dewed grass and blooming flowers. The forbidden Forest loomed in the distance, a mysterious presence on the borders of the fields of grass of the grounds. The Black Lake lay still and serene, mirroring the pink and golden streaks of the fresh morning sky.

The three of them made their way to a secluded spot near the shores of the lake, near the forest. Dobby’s excitement was palpable. ‘Okay, what do we need to do now’ harry spoke looking at Dobby how was excitably bouncing on the tips of his toes.

‘First dobby must be drawings the old runes at the point where the sun rises, sets, then in-betweens them’ dobby excitably chattering as he moved in a circular manner carving into the dark earth of the lakeshore. The runes were odd, even to Harry and Neville, they seemed strange. ‘These be the old runes, Master Harry, thems at the ministry and the families be using different ones but they be different and dobby not knows them, all elves knows these ones.

Both Neville and Harry watched Dobby carve the runes into the soft earth of the lake shore, the runes were inexplicable, they had an aura of ancientness and significance, almost having their own slow thrumming pulse of power.

The first symbol Dobby drew, facing the rising sun, was an intricate spiral, almost labyrinthine, its design seemed to radiate energy, a symbol of the eternal cycle of life, birth and rebirth, it had an ethereal sense of timelessness, as if the symbol had existed since the dawn of time itself. It represented the east, where the sun rose with the promise of new beginnings and opportunities.

The second rune, facing the setting sun, was a symmetrical pattern of interlocking triangles and circles. It appeared almost geometrically perfect, yet there was an otherworldly quality to it. This rune symbolized the west, where the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, signifying the end of each day and a journey into the unknown night. Its complexity seemed to hint at the mysteries hidden in the darkness, a testament to the profound wisdom and ancient knowledge that lurks in the edge of the shadows of time.

The third positioned between the rising and setting sun, was a graceful curve that resembled a wave. Its fluid lines conveyed a sense of movement and constant change symbolizing the north where the sun reached its zenith, and the world basked in the warmth of midday. This rune seemed to embody the ever-shifting nature of existence, reminding them of all the ebb and flow of life, like the tides of the Black Lake that mirrored its gentle form.

The fourth and final rune facing the south depicted an intricate interweaving of vines and leaves, forming a delicate and complex pattern. It exuded an aura of strength and stability, rooted in the earth and the passage of time. This rune represented the very Earth itself- the foundation on which all life thrived.

As Dobby finished the last rune and stepped back, the runes seemed to glow faintly in the early morning light. The air was charged with a subtle, magical energy and a sense of reverence settled over Harry; he’d never felt magic like this before. He didn’t know that magic could feel like this, it danced across his skin invisibly leaving a tingling sensation that was both exhilarating and humbling. The morning sunlight took on an otherworldly quality, casting a gentle glow upon the runes. Harry’s hair lightly fluttered as if caressed by an unseen breeze.

Dobby’s eyes shone with pride as he looked upon the completed runes. He turned to Harry bouncing on the balls of his feet. ‘The circle be ready, when yous be ready we step inside and make the promises that be forming's the bond.’ Harry stood there for a moment wondering what his vows should be he didn’t realize that he’d have to make anything up, to be honest he thought this would be a simpler affair, but he was excited, eyes alight with curiosity, this was magic, unlike any he’d seen before, he’d had no idea that runes were anything like this, it was fascinating.

Neville walked over to Harry as he was figuring out his promises and handed him a piece of parchment. ‘I think these are the traditional vows, for taking an elf into service, I reworded them a little’ Neville spoke softly with a small smile. Harry read them over and stepped into the circle.

The moment his foot crossed the boundary as he and Dobby stepped across from opposite sides, Harry felt a surge of magic course through him, It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before- powerful yet gentle, ancient and timeless. It was as if the very essence of magic itself was flowing into him, intertwining with his being. The Sensation was humbling and empowering.

Looking at Dobby standing a short distance away from him inside the circle, he felt something. Traces of hope, parts of adoration, but mostly the absolute sincere desire and will to help Harry with anything he would ask. The feelings brought up his own, the desire to save dobby from the terror he saw in his eyes when he talked about the Unravelling, to ensure that he would never again be hurt by cruelty, and his he sent his gratitude that dobby risked so much to help him and still wanted to.

‘I Harry of the House Potter, do so swear to take you Dobby, into my service. I will give you shelter from the world, A place to rest your head, to heal your wounds’ the words came to Harry unbidden now, ‘I ask for your help in all ways you would give me, until such time you would wish to leave my service’ with this final word he reached out his hands to dobby who quicky took them in his own bandaged ones.

‘I Dobby, accepts this vow, do Takeses the offer of shelter, and does so promise to serve you as my master to the bests of dobby’s abilities’ Dobby excitedly replied as a pulse of magic echoed in the air, as a soft golden glow surrounded both Harry and Dobby tying their oaths into their cores.

A brief moment of applause came from Neville who was sitting on a log nearby and watching the ritual with a massive grin on his face. ‘That was brilliant’ he said as he got to his feet rushing towards Harry and Dobby. ‘I've read about wizards taking elves into service before, but I don’t think those rituals are quite that intense or worded that way’ he said to Harry who was standing feeling a little stunned. The magical bond he felt reinvigorated him, maybe it was the runes that caused it, He’d definitely have to talk to Professor McGonagall later, he’d heard Hermione talking about runes before, but he’d brushed it off listening to Ron about taking an easy class. What else had he overlooked, brushing it off to focus on chess, or Quidditch. Dobby stood next to him trembling slightly and looking a little faint.

‘Dobby are you okay, Merlin, did I mess the ritual up’ he asked with concern filled with concern as he dropped to a knee next to Dobby and placed a hand on the shaking elf’s shoulder.

‘No great master Harry Potter, yous be doing fantastic, Dobby is yous elf now, Dobby be feeling the bond, is be strong, Dobby be realizing that Great Master Harry Potter be a truly powerful wizard, all the old nasty spells that bad Malfoys be casting on Dobby be gone’ His bleary eyes widening for a moment looking around as if he was waiting for the urge to hurt himself, fear passing quickly when he didn’t feel the need to at all.

‘Bonding be tiring for elves, Great Master Harry Potter sirs, more powerful the wizard the quicker the old spells wear off, old injuries heal, and new bond to settle, Dobby wills be fine in a few weekses, Great Master’ he said with a smile while fighting a Yawn threatening to take over.

Harry, still on his knees, felt palpably relieved that he hadn’t messed up ‘Okay Dobby, my first ever order to you will be this, call me Harry, not Master Harry, or Great Master Harry for the love of merlin please.’ He said politely to the tired elf, who jerked to alertness at the sound of an order. ‘No no cans be doing, you is my Master and heir to House Potter, Dobby cans be feeling it, it is only be right.’ Dobby stated with utmost confidence and height, which was only 3’6”

Harry was a little taken back by the firmness in the diminutive elf’s tone and the Heir to House Potter business. ‘Alright alright, what would you like to call me that’s not Great Master Harry Potter then Dobby’ Harry replied, surprised at the negotiation but kind of enjoying it.

‘Hows about Dobby be calling yous, Young Master Harry? At leasts for in front of other wizardses’ Dobby said keeping his firm tone

‘Are you sure you won’t just call me Harry?’ he replied, feeling a little exasperated ‘fine, how about you just call me Master Harry then, at least drop the young bit’

Dobby beamed triumphantly, ‘Dobby be goings to rest for a whiles now Master Harry, but I be comings if yous calls’ Dobby happily stated before disapperating with a sharp crack that split the early morning silence.

‘You know Harry, I think Dobby might have swindled you a little there’ Neville said failing to hide a smile and falling in step next to Harry easily.

‘He was always going to insist on calling me Master wasn’t he’ said Harry shaking his head from side to side.

With a small grin Neville nodded his head and said ‘It's still a little early, but main hall? Breakfast should be in half an hour or so’ Harry nodded his head and began to walk slowly up the pathway.

As the two of them walked the early morning air felt cool and refreshing. The sun had risen higher in the sky, casting a soft golden glow over the ground of Hogwarts, Dew glistened on the grass mingled with the sweet scent of summer flowers, the occasional owl swooped overhead towards the castle a letter tied to their leg. The soft crunch of gravel beneath their feet echoed in the quiet morning, mingling with the sound of bird song from the distant forest.

It was not long before they crossed the entrance, Its grand oak doors tall and wide stretched open to greet them, its towering ceilings and soft grey stone welcoming them inside, soft torchlight flickering on the walls not yet overcome by the daylight.

Finally, they reached the main hall, it was bathed in the soft morning light, sunlight streaming through the high windows casting long beams across the polished wooden floors. The hall’s enchanted ceiling mirroring the perfect cloudless pale cerulean sky Harry and Neville were just wandering under. The atmosphere was peaceful and still, with only a handful of early risers dotted amongst the hall, occasionally breaking the silence with a yawn, or light conversation. The wooden tables and benches were polished to a shine, even if they bore the marks used by countless generations of students. Professor Flitwick sat at the high table, resting back against the expertly carved dark wood Charms master’s throne, idly taking in the calmness of the early morning, smiling and giving a small nod to the two as they took a seat in the middle of the Gryffindor table.

As the early morning light slowly brightened, the main hall saw a trickle of students begin to languidly wander in and find their tables and friends. The hall filled with hushed voices as breakfast began to appear on large silver serving plates on the tables Infront of barely awake students. The smell of sizzling bacon, buttery toast, freshly brewed tea and coffee swiftly mingled in the air, creating a mouthwatering symphony of scents that greeted the early risers to coax them from drowsyness.

Harry started to fix a plate, aware of how ravenous the morning had already made him, between the nightmare and the ritual. Grabbing a few rashers of crispy bacon, a few sausages and freshly scrambled eggs, he began to tuck in. Filling a mug full of tea, he took a sip, and a thought came back to him, and he asked ‘Neville, what did Dobby mean by Heir to the House of Potter it was just my mum and dad right?’

He didn’t get an immediate answer as Neville’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and he promptly dropped his mug of tea sending peppermint tea cascading down the table as he shouted ‘What?....’ bringing the hall to a stop for just a moment.

Chapter Text

‘WHAT....’ echoed through hall bringing the slow muttering breakfast conversation abruptly to a stop as everyone in the hall turned to the source of the disturbance. Some with curiosity at what could cause Neville Longbottom, known for his quiet and mild-mannered nature, to yell at morning breakfast. Others, however looked far less pleased, shooting him disapproving glances for disturbing the tranquillity of the morning, that they held sacrosanct until their second cup of coffee.

Blushing a bright scarlet, fumbling with a napkin Neville sank back down in his seat, trying to hide his embarrassment, tried to clean up the mess he’d made.

Harry taken aback by Neville’s reaction, reached out to clean up the mess, drawing his wand from his pocket and casting a few scourgify spells to mop the mess up. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,’ he said apologetically, wondering what caused this reaction.

Neville took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure, ‘it’s... it’s okay’ he mumbled, still embarrassed by the commotion he had caused, glancing around the hall, still seeing the occasional curious look shot his way. ‘I just … I didn't expect you to ask that’

Harry furrowed his brow in confusion.

‘What do you mean, it’s a simple question right?’

Neville hesitated for a moment before finally responding ‘Well, yes... it is a simple question, but first let me ask you, what do you know about The House of Potter’ Neville asked leaning in a serious look on his face now his voice dropping to a whisper.

Harry, getting more confused at the situation developing here, replied a little unsure. ‘My mother Lily Evans before she was a Potter, was a muggleborn, she had a sister, a muggle who I grew up with’ Harry’s voice grew whisper quiet at that before continuing, ‘and my dad was part of an old wizarding family that had a bit of money. They died on Halloween 1981 when I was one’

Harry stared at the look of disbelief on Neville’s face when he finished speaking.

Neville stood again, stepping over the bench, and leaned across the dark wood table to whisper to Harry, ‘It’d be best not to talk here,’ before saying louder ‘are you finished eating we should go to the library’

Harry felt a mix of curiosity and concern as he heard Neville whisper, surprised by the serious tone, and look of disbelief on Neville’s face. It was clear there was a lot more to the House of Potter than what he thought knew. He nodded quickly to Neville, pushing his plate away as the crumbs of breakfast vanished, replaced with a sparkling clean plate. ‘Yeah, I’m done eating. The library sounds like a good idea’

Leaving the Great Hall, Neville and Harry walked side by side through the grand entrance hall, early morning light streaming through the open doors. The castle was beginning to wake up, portraits awake and chatting away to their Neighbours, More and more students were waking up, even if it was a Saturday, to grab some breakfast and make the most of a day off, without the shadow of the Chamber of Secrets looming over them.

As they Climbed the stairs, they passed a small group of Ravenclaws heading down to the Great Hall, with broomsticks on their shoulders, likely eager to enjoy the morning air from the sky. They nodded respectfully to Harry, a stark contrast to how things had been a week or two ago. The school had unsurprisingly swung around again in its attitudes to Harry with whiplash speeds, ‘I hope this doesn’t keep happening’ He thought to himself.

Attitudes towards Harry had changed when Dumbledore announced at the Midnight Feast that he was awarding Harry and Ron with Special Awards for Services to the School for resolving the crisis, it shifted perceptions significantly.

The Gryffindors had lauded him and Ron as conquering heroes who’d defeated Slytherin, It was morbidly ironic, that some of those doing the cheering were the same ones who’d hexed him for being a traitor to the house at the worst of the Parseltounge panic.

The Hufflepuffs, had genuinely been apologetic it seems, which was quite nice. he’d been stopped several times by Puffs who wanted to say sorry, Justin Finch-Fletchly one of the victims had come straight up to him during the feast to shake his hand and apologized for suspecting him. Even more surprising was a group of fifth year Badgers had even turned themselves in to McGonagall the next day, for Jinxing him repeatedly and consistently with some nasty boil jinxes after Justin had been attacked after Christmas. Never underestimate a Badger’s instinct for fairness, it seems.

Ravenclaw, was less cold to him after that. They’d never been the worst of the bullying, but a number of devilishly tricky hexes had come from wands held in hands with blue trimmed robes.

As they reached the Heavy doors of the library, and pushed their way inside the scent of parchment and old books flooded the senses, Harry had to admit it was a delightful smell. It was the promise of knowledge, something that in his first weeks at Hogwarts, Harry had loved, as he tried to find out everything. He had wanted to read the entire library soak up every scrap of magical knowledge. Before he got lost in the everyday nature of things. It was a day of promises it seemed, as he swore that he wouldn’t let it happen again. After the ritual that morning and the feeling of magic swirling all around and becoming part of him, he wanted to know more. He needed to know more; it was the second year in a row he had been drawn into a deadly situation, to protect others, and himself, he couldn’t take the easy route anymore. But even, more he didn’t want to take the easy route anymore.

The library was vast, with row upon row of towering bookshelves that seemed to stretch on for ages. Sunlight filtered in through the tall stained-glass windows, creating warm patches of illumination on the floors and cascading across the varnished bookshelves.

It was early for students to be in the library. Breakfast had barely started, this wasn’t lost on Madame Pince, the hawk-like librarian who quickly schooled her features from surprise to the same withering glare she levelled at all students in her domain. They were the first students here today then.

Harry and Neville quietly navigated through the maze of shelves; footsteps muffled by the carpet between the stacks. The towering shelves were filled with tomes and magical texts, each holding centuries of knowledge within their leather-bound covers. They found one of the study tables, at the back of the library, it was one of the good ones normally reserved in advance; for groups to use the silencing runes built into the tables to study as a group and talk without disturbing Mdme Pince’s ultimate commandment of quiet in the library.

They chose one of the small booths carved into the back wall for privacy. It was almost an American diner style booth Harry thought but as if a Wix had seen one once and tried to recreate it in their own style. A large circular, polished, dark wood table sat in the centre of a semi-circle hollow that had been smoothly carved out of the stonework of the wall. A soft high-backed sofa that swept along the inner circle of the wall sat snugly inside; cushions dispersed evenly along it in the various house colours; with wingback chairs covering the other half of the circle that faced the library. Floating candles unlit hung suspended over the table.

As they settled into the secluded booth, the candles lit with soft yellow spell flame providing a warm gentle light, but no heat. With a sense of anticipation Harry took out his wand and tapped the rune scheme etched onto the table’s surface. In an instant, a shimmering translucent barrier covered the wide opening briefly before fading. A hushed tranquillity enveloped the study area. The outside world seemed to fade away. Neville had settled down into the plush seat opposite Harry, and was leaning forward, his expression serious and determined now.

‘Alright, Harry,’ Neville began to talk haltingly ‘I’ll tell you what I know, it will just be the outsider's knowledge that you can find in books’

‘My Family is in books?’ Harry interrupted ‘I mean more than just my mum and dad?’ A feeling of shock ran through him, before he felt a little bashful for interrupting Neville so early into his explanation ‘Sorry, I'll try not to interrupt’

Nevile grinned a little at Harry’s eagerness to learn, Neville always seemed to come to life when people came to him for information, usually on Herbology, even some of the upper years did so. But he quickly continued, not wanting to leave Harry waiting for stuff he should have grown up learning.

‘Yes, the Potters are in books, there are whole books written about the Potters, let alone how many times your ancestors will show up in others. It's very safe to assume that if you come across the name Potter in any Wixen book, assume that it's an ancestor. It’s not a common name in the Wixen world.’ Harry had gotten very still, eyes wide, as this new information coursed through his brain.

‘You asked about the House of Potter because of what Dobby said about the Heir to the House?’ Neville said calmly, Harry nodded stiffly in response, his brain not caught up yet

‘In the Wizarding world any family that lasts more than three generations becomes a formal house. But the older and more powerful a family gets; they get given House status. Once it’s given it can't be taken away, and the families are ranked based on how long they have been active in our world. The Most Ancient and Noble House Potter is one of the oldest. My family also holds that title, The Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Longbottom, Heir Longbottom at your service’ Neville Smiled a little weakly

Harry was stunned, he knew he’d be leaning a bit about his family, but he had no idea it would lead to all of this. Neville’s calm explanation only added to the whirlwind of emotions swirling in Harry’s mind, trying to process the weight of a revelation. The idea that he was part of one of the oldest wizarding families, The Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, was awe-inspiring, overwhelming, and utterly terrifying to know that he was the last.

As he looked at Neville’s weak smile he said ‘I... I had no idea’ stammering slightly before finding his voice ‘I mean, I knew my parents were magical and that my dad came from a long line of wizards and witches but, this kind of history, its... it's a lot. And you, Neville, Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom? That’s incredible.”

Neville’s smile grew a little more genuine at Harry’s reaction ‘Yeah, I know it’s a lot to take in, isn’t it, and I grew up with it. The other Houses are the Bones, Olivander, Greengrass, Nott and Black. These houses make up the oldest families in our world, at least in this part. I remember gran talking about some of the Greek, and Chinese houses, that are even older.’

Neville carried on explaining, as Harry grappled with the notion that he had all this waiting for him, when he was starving, cold, and beaten within an inch of his life, stuck in a boot cupboard in Little Winging. A kaleidoscope of emotions hit him, Anger, sadness, a little jealousy, and finally a bittersweet realization, The anger at the Dursleys, at whomever sent him there as a baby, at himself for never pushing to find out on his own; and at Riddle for causing, it in the first place. Sadness and jealousy that he didn’t get to learn all of this in his father's lap. And a bittersweet notion that he could still learn it, he would do everything he could to find out more.

Neville had stopped talking when he looked up and saw the stricken look on Harry’s face, his small grin slipped from his face as emotions flashed across his countenance ‘Harry... are you okay’ he said quietly, ‘I’m sorry, it’s... it’s too much isn’t it’ said Neville gently fixing his gaze on the tabletop he sort of understood, what with the situation with his own parents, his gran had been the one to tell him all about the Longbottom family history but it still should have been his Mother and Father’s responsibility.

‘No please, keep going... I... I need to know this; I really want to know this’ Harry implored almost begging, eyes alight with determination now, a yearning for knowledge and understanding.

Taking a deep breath, Neville resumed ‘Okay, I'll tell you w-what I know, I d-don't know much about the actual history of the Potters that sort of thing tends to be kept for the family. I know that the Potters weren’t always called the Potters, it changed somewhere in the 10th century from the Peverell family whose name sort of just disappeared. With families as old as ours it happens, The Longbottom’s were once called the Langvale family, but a long long time ago.’

Neville paused a moment, mouth going dry from all the talking before continuing. ‘Oh, one thing about both our families, is that the Longbottom’s and Potter’s have nearly always been allies, have been for generations. Our Fathers re-confirmed the alliance when they left school, it was said nearly 400 years ago during a battle against a dark lord and his Inferi hordes, a Potter and a Longbottom held a bridge for three whole days alone until reinforcements came.’ he said with a massive smile. It was brilliant to see Neville so animated at explaining something, it was even more than when he was helping with herbology assignments, even then there was some reservedness, but now he was leaning forward, smiling openly, and meeting his eyes. If he were to look in a mirror right now, he’d see the same excited look on his own, he felt.

Harry noticed when Neville faltered for just a moment, smile slipping away, ‘Harry… do you know who your godparents were?’ Harry paused a moment, feeling the shift in the conversation. Before shaking his head.

‘Your mother was my godmother, and my mother was yours’ Neville said gently, a sadness colouring his features.

Feeling that this was going to be an exceedingly difficult subject for Neville to talk about, Harry tentatively asked ‘I... I never really thought to ask, why do you live with your gran’

Neville closed in on himself and shrank backwards at Harry’s question, shoulders hunching up and his chin tucking into his chest arms crossed and hugging his sides. He took a few shaking breaths before speaking his voice barely above a whisper

‘They... T-th-hey are still alive, b-but they don’t recognize me’

Harry’s heart sank.

‘B-before the end of the w-war, a lot of f-families went into hiding, f-from Y-y-you K-know Who, L-like your mum and dad. After h-he d-d-died, when h-he went after y-y-ou, my mum and dad came out of hiding, Gran said my mum wanted to find you. B-but not all of h-his supporters had been caught yet. One of h-his supporters a C-crouch, one of m-my dad’s cousins, led the Lestrange's into our home, they T-t-tortured them for hours for I-I-nformation on their Lord. They were hurt really badly, the t-t-orture caused them unimaginable pain, permanently damaged their minds. They don’t recognize anyone anymore, they’re just lost’ Neville explained, verdant eyes welling up with tears.

Harry’s heart ached for Neville and the pain he’d endured, watching his parents suffer and them becoming strangers to him. It was loss, but a different kind of loss. He could see Nevilles deep sense of longing for his parents, and the blinding grief of being able to see them and touch them but them being a shell of their former selves. Harry didn’t know which was worse, his situation, or Nevilles.

‘Gran took me in after that’ Neville continued, his voice choked with emotion ‘she’s looked after me, but she has a lot of... expectations, she wants me to do all the things her son, my dad did. But I... I don’t get his marks on tests, m-merlin knows I'm terrible at wand work and spells and potions are a disaster, all I'm good at is Herbology and she sees it as soft.’

Harry nodded, completely lost and unable to find the right words to express his feelings. He reached out and placed a hand on Neville's shoulder, trying to offer what little comfort he could.

Neville gave a small watery smile, appreciating the gesture. ‘Thanks, Harry, it's hard to talk about them’

‘Yeah,’ said harry softly, feelings of his own losses coursing through him ‘I do. So, your Mum being my Godmother, and Mine being yours. Doesn’t that sort of make us brothers in a sense, godbrothers, I mean if you want.’ Harry almost mumbled softly.

Neville looked at Harry with surprise, the weight of his emotions momentarily forgotten. ‘Yes, I mean you’d want that?’ that self-deprecating tone coming back ‘I mean like I said, I’m not a very good wizard, my wand...’

Harry cut Neville off abruptly trying to stop him spiralling into doubt again ‘Yes Nev, I would like it a lot, and you need to stop doing that, doubting yourself I mean, You are powerful I can feel it when we’re in the Greenhouses, you almost come to life when you're in there. And I'll help you with wand work, Merlin knows I’ve had to get decent with defence.’ Harry chuckled lightly while internally ruthlessly squashing down the feel of terror from the chamber that still tried to crawl its way up his throat and into his mind.

‘So, to go back to the beginning, I’m the Heir to a Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter, one of what was it Seven Most yada yada houses’ Harry said to Neville who nodded ‘and we are, or our houses, are allied, what does it all mean?’ Harry asked

‘Well, different House levels give you more or less power through votes in the Wizengamot, the Ministry’s council, who vote on Laws, Ordinances, Trials and oversee this part of the Wixen world. The Most Ancient and Most Noble are the highest level and have the most individual votes that being five’ Neville spoke evenly, sounding as if he was recalling a lesson, he’d had a long time ago.

‘The next level down would be the Ancient and Noble Houses, the Macmillan's, Parkinson’s, Prewitt’s, Weasleys and a lot more, there are a quite a lot of actually, nearly all of the Sacred 28, are in that category; though the Weasleys don’t actually have a seat in government anymore, but that’s a old and complicated issue. The Ancient and Noble have 4 votes.’

‘Going down a level you have the Noble houses, most seats in the Wizengamot are these types, though if you ever want to really mess with Malfoy remind him that his house is only a Noble one not whatever he pretends to be. Then you have Houses, anyone can form a House, and you have the right to call yourself part of a House by existing as a Wixen, even if they’ve not reached the third generation yet, you just don’t get the full formal title. Even muggleborns have that right. Houses can sit in the wizengamot too but they have to be invited to sit after being elected to one of the free seats.’ Neville paused a moment to take a breath.

‘So, I've... We’ve got seats in government’ Harry said, feeling yet again overwhelmed.

‘Yes, although we can't take them until we come of age. That’s if you want to take them, plenty of Houses elect proxies to stand in their stead, Gran does for me.’

Harry sat and in the soft glow of the candlelight, leaning back on his soft chair as he tried to process everything. After a few minutes of silence, Neville watching Harry closely, Neville spoke again, ‘You need to go to Gringotts, the goblins will be able to start the process to formally take your Heirship, you have to be 12 to start it, and you can't claim your rings until you turn 13. Gran took me last summer to start the process the day after my birthday. Ask one of their Teller’s about the House of Potter, they should take you to the Account manager that deals exclusively with your house. A lot of people treat Gringotts as a place just to store their gold, but they can do a lot more. They have healers, warders, they can buy and sell stuff for you, they are much more than a bank. Gran says they’re pretty much an entire nation, they are a warrior culture too, they hate being disrespected.’

Harry and Neville talked for a good while more, mostly about things Neville thought Harry should have known, what the Sacred 28 was and Neville, or at least Neville’s Gran’s take on the Sacred 28 being a Pureblood stunt. A bit more on the Goblins, how to treat them, and the sort of behaviour they expect and what not to do in front of them. They talked a little about what Neville knew about other magical communities around the world, and generally just getting to know each other.

The two lost track of time as they properly got the chance to get to know one another, until that is, a riot of chestnut brown bushy hair walked past carrying far too many books. As the figure walked past, she glanced inside the booth, before performing an impressive double take, surprise on her face, and her lips formed a soundless ‘Harry?’

‘Hermione’ Harry called, a contagious smile breaking out onto his face, ‘Good morn..’ he was about to say before he realised, he and Neville were still inside the silencing bubble. He quickly motioned for her to join them inside the booth.

Hermione eyebrows still raised in surprised walked forward and into the bubble, shivering once as the barrier washed over her. ‘Harry’ she said warmly, ‘Good morning,’ she said as she placed the bundle of books in her arms on the table, the pile made and alarmingly loud thump. ‘I was wondering where you were. I assumed you would still be in bed, as late as it is. What is going on?’ a look of curiosity and mild concern colouring her features.

Harry muttered a quick Tempus charm ‘11:37, merlin we’ve been here for over four hours’ Harry said with shock as he looked at Neville who looked just as surprised. ‘And nothing’s going on Hermione, nothing bad at least. It’s just been a very long morning, just one thing led to another’ Hermione still looked a little concerned, so Harry started to tell her what had happened that morning, He did gloss over his nightmare's and the reaction he had to them this morning though, grateful to Neville for following his lead on that and staying quiet.

He did have to practically drag Hermione back into the booth when he got to the Dobby bit of the morning, she was nearly apoplectic when she found out that Hogwarts had a large staff of House Elves to do most of the work. She did calm down after Neville interrupted before she could pick up steam about slavery and indentured servitude, Harry joining in about the look in Dobby’s eye when he talked about what happened to elves that don’t bond to a place or Wixen, she insisted she would absolutely be starting a research project on welfare of elves though, and Harry and Neville knew better than to argue.

She seemed about to start taking notes, when Harry talked about the binding ritual, poking Harry with the blunt end of a quill and parchment for him to draw what he remembered of the strange runes. When he and Neville, who drew a featherless quill from his robes moved to draw them on parchment, they found they couldn’t. They knew they remembered that there were runes, and they could vaguely recall the concepts the runes embodied but couldn't for the life of them remember what they looked like.

All three of them scratching their heads with interest, leaving harry to firmly state that he was definitely taking Runes next year instead of divination, to which Hermione with a squeal of glee, started happily babbling on about the several types of runes she’d read about and uses. She then started prodding harry into taking up Arithmancy as well, listing all the uses and practical aspects could have on, being able to break down spells to their components, or to modify or even create a spell, did wonders to pique Harry’s interest. ‘I thought Arithmancy was just predicting the future with numbers?’ Harry questioned

‘Oh no, not at all, there is a little of that, but that part is a lot more like non magical probability calculations than divination’ Hermione replied, as she rummaged through the pile of books, she pulled an old dark leather book with golden thread in its binding and handed it to harry. Flipping it open to the cover page, he saw the title, Numerology and Grammatica: A study in basic spell deconstruction and alteration for beginners. ‘Thats an old edition of the book I've heard Professor Vector always sets for the 3rd year’ Hermione said, Nevilles mouth moved like a fish before he stuttered out ‘are you already getting started on your studies for next year?’ He asked bemused.

‘Well, yes, since someone decided to cancel the end of year exams for everyone not doing O.W.L’s or N.E.W.T’s I thought why not.’ She replied as if it was just the sensible thing to do. While the two boys looked caught each other’s eyes and had to stifle a sudden giggle.

Leaning back into the softness of the pillows that were scattered across the seat Harry stared at Hermione. Face buried in another thick tome, she was dressed as if it were winter. A thick woolly jumper that was a cascade of woollen pastels colours, covered by the black Hogwarts outer robe. She kept rubbing her hands together as if they were freezing. ‘How are you doing Hermione’ harry asked softly ‘after you know, everything, I know we’ve not really had a chance to talk yet.’

Neville had grabbed one of the Herbology texts and had slipped off his shoes and curled up at the deepest point of the sofa, his eyes barely flickered at the question, choosing to focus on his book.

Hermione took a slow breath and relaxed into the wingback she had chosen. Slipping a bookmark in before softly closing her book. Her eyes a deep burnt umber that so often sparked with curiosity met his and Harry felt a sudden warming of his core. The worst thing about Hermione being petrified was the terrifying lifelessness in her eyes. The spark of life was just gone. An empty window of a cold house. He’d spent enough time seeing them, He’d visited every chance he could have. But what everyone else, even Ron, didn’t know; was that he snuck out every night under his cloak to sit with her, sometimes for hours, just talking about the classes of the day. He’d even read out his notes that he’d taken in class. He’d even talked about the Dursley’s what it was like for him growing up; he hoped she wouldn’t remember that.

‘I’m... doing better Harry, the side effects of the Basilisk’s gaze are almost gone, I can feel my fingers again, they were numb until yesterday. I still feel cold though. Like the warmth just can’t get through. It is better, I felt like I was carved from ice, when I first woke up. Madam Pomfrey, says the side effects are normal, that the draught just takes a few days to fully work through your system’ she said with a small smile as she brought her legs up on the chair wrapping her arms around them resting her head on her knees.

‘W-what was it l-like being petrified Hermione’ Nevile asked eyes just poking over the edge of his book.

‘I don’t really remember a lot’ she replied, ‘though there are some things, flashes of scattered moments, a lot of staring at the ceiling’ she said before her eyes glanced at harry before she grabbed a book and started to read again, the edges of her cheeks flushing with colour Harry did notice a glint of something else in her eye’s in briefest of moments before she broke eye contact, it seemed sad.

Neville at one point got up to disappear into the library, and came back with a sizable black book with a ministerial crest embossed onto the surface of the leather cover and passed it to Harry, Hermione curiosity piqued at Harry showing interest, in what seemed to be quite a dry subject matter, since it had a Ministry crest on it. ‘What is that, Neville?’ She asked.

‘This, while boring, is one book you need to read to get an idea of how the Wizengamot and the Ministry runs, the roles of the various houses and protocols for the sessions. Written by my great grandfather. According to gran, she says it doesn’t have a lot of ministry bias that a lot of the more modern books on the topic have.’ he said a bit with a bit of pride

With a surprised Hermione spun to look at Harry ‘You’re looking into the Wizengamot Harry, why?’ she questioned

‘Ahh yeah, you know how I said I'd had a bit of a Morning, yeah that’s a big part of it. When I was doing the binding ritual with Dobby, he said something, he said “Heir to the House of Potter,” when I asked Neville what dobby meant, Neville immediately stood up and said we’re going to the library, and we came straight here. Turns out I've been thinking about my family wrong; I'd sort of been never considered my family past my mum and dad. Neville told me that I'm the Heir to the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter’

Harry saw the sudden realisation pop into her mind, ‘Of course’ she exclaimed, ‘Your family is part of the Seven founders of the Wizengamot. I had done a cursory overview on the Wizengamot when I first got my books. I had looked at some of the houses, but I'd put off doing an in-depth research project on it until later, but I never got round to actually looking up which families were a part of it.’

Both Neville seemed surprised, at this, looking back and forth between each other and Hermione, ‘Founder of the Wizengamot!?, you didn’t say anything like that’ Harry near yelled

‘I did not know, honest I swear Harry, it’s a bit of a shock to me as well’ Neville replied calmly, how he managed to do that harry didn’t know considering the look of alarm on his face.

Hermione feeling that she was missing something ‘I can understand Harry missing out on things, since he was raised muggle, but why are you shocked’ she questioned

Neville simply stood, bowed, and spoke in a practiced manner, ‘Heir Neville Longbottom, of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Longbottom, at your service Miss Granger’

Hermione looked a taken aback slightly before Harry saw the curiosity immediately take the forefront and the questions started ‘Do you know who the other families are? What does it mean to have a title like that? and what was that bow? it didn’t quite look like a regular bow.’

Harry with a laugh, headed her off before she buried Neville in a pile of questions and requests for references.

Neville gathered himself, and sitting tried to reply to some of the questions before new ones came flying at him. ‘Y-yes, the others are the Bones, you might know Susan, she’s in our year, Hufflepuff. There's the Olivander's, though they’ve never named their heirs publicly. My family, the Longbottom’s. There's the Potters of course. The Greengrass's I think they’ve got a daughter in our year, Slytherin. There is also two Nott’s one who isn’t in Hogwarts, his situation is strange though, he acts like the family head and even sits in the Wizengamot according to gran but hasn’t taken the Lordship. The younger, Theo Nott his son, who’s in our year, again a Slytherin. And finally, there are the Blacks I'm not sure about that one, the last known heir was thought to be disowned, Sirius Black; though Gran say’s that the Malfoy’s are trying to push Draco as the heir due to his mother was a Black before she Married into the Malfoy family. Neville paused before continuing,

‘I have no real idea what it means to have a title like that, Gran never really included it in my lessons growing up, she only really thought I was little more than a squib after my Hogwarts letter showed up. So, I've only really been tutored in the summer last year. And that bow, was a formal greeting from an heir to someone considered an equal. There are a lot of different types, but I really am not the best person to be telling you all those, I can barely tell the difference myself.’ He finished slumping back down into the couch. Meanwhile Hermione, seemed to be fighting the urge to ask lot more to follow up questions, and harry was fighting the urge run away at the concept of greeting protocol lessons.

The urge soon passed for them both though and things returned to a gentle silence, Hermione did move from the wingback and set up next to Harry, leaning into him to read along as he tried to make some headway into the dense but surprisingly interesting book, particularly the chapters, on the formation and very early years of the Wizengamot. Why wasn’t this taught in History of Magic he thought for a moment as Hermione leaned in closer tucking into his small frame. She did say that she still felt cold Harry thought as he pulled off one shoulder of his robe and tucking it around her like a blanket, he put it out of his mind and carried on reading, not noticing a faint blush on her cheeks as he did.

The three passed the time a way, swapping interesting books, Harry folded a piece of parchment signed with his initial, and surrendered to the Wizengamot tome for the moment, letting Hermione carry on with it and switched to an interesting book on curses and curse deflection.

After about an hour, Neville cast a quick tempus charm, before jumping to his feet, they only had 45 minutes of lunch being served, and they all realised how hungry they were now feeling.

Chapter Text

The Great Hall was alive with a bustling energy as Harry, Hermione and Neville walked into the hall for lunch. Long wooden tables stretched out across the hall, adorned with golden plates and goblets. The enchanted ceiling mimicked the bright, sunny skies outside. A hubbub of conversations and laughter echoed through the grand chamber as students spread out across all four tables ate. It was such a massive improvement on the previous months, where the had castle felt under siege from within, the four houses split with tension, where no one wanted to linger too long outside their dorms, seeking the solace and safety of their houses.

There was a newfound sense of peace; and a massive feeling of weight lifted from the students now. Everyone felt it, Harry more than most with the suspicion of being the Heir of Slytherin now gone. Hushed whispers passed between friends with smiles and giggles not suspicion and fear. There were even a few groups that mingled between tables occasionally, no one had wanted to risk it before.

Harry spotted the telltale sign of the Weasleys by the congregation of shockingly red hair that were the hallmarks of his dorm and house mates; swinging his leg over the bench he dropped down next to Ron, Hermione slipping in beside him, while Neville took the other side of the table next to Fred and George. Ron jumped in surprise and between mouthfuls of steak and kidney pie, mumbled out a greeting “Hwwie, whfv oo bn” stopped by a sharp rap on the head by his older brother’s knuckles.

“Shut your mouth when your chewing” Percy commanded imperiously, harry hadn’t noticed him on Ron's left.

“Yeah Ron” George? Laughed,

“You’re spraying poor noble heroic Harrikins here with enough to make his own meal” Fred cackled.

“Where’ve you been hiding all day harry, been up to no good?” Fred asked in a mimic of Percy’s prefect voice, it was a good impression too, at least until he couldn’t hold it and burst into a wide grin.

“Yeah, and why didn’t you let us in on it” George said leaning in across the table conspiratorially.

Harry waved them off, grabbing a plate and loading it with a few of his favourite things

‘Been in the library since breakfast, so no pranking from me today’ The twins and Ron exchanged bewildered glances.

‘What? I had a few things I wanted to look up, and the library is a great place to do it,’ Harry explained trying to put on a playful face.

“That and it’s a decent place to hang out for a while in quiet. Less stares in there, before people were more likely to hex me, now they want to ask questions’ he said voice dropping to a whisper before turning his attention back to his plate.

A good while later, when everyone's plates had been pushed away clean, each of them leaning back in satisfaction, some students just lingering around the hall because they could now. Some had books propped open on empty jugs. While others were content to simply enjoy the company of others. Hermione had excused herself first, insisting that she wanted to head back to the library. She’d left to the twins good natured ribbing her about being the ultimate student, to study for exams that had already been cancelled. Neville had left next, when he’d seen Professor Sprout leaving the hall and left to catch her, likely wanting access to the greenhouses. The twins meanwhile had gotten out a set of exploding snap cards that they said had a Weasley twist; at this announcement, Ron had dragged Harry a few feet further down the table well away from the two muttering while chuckling ‘More explosions, way more explosions’ before asking Harry for a game of chess.

After a few rounds of Ron soundly beating Harry each time, A flutter of wings caught their attention.

‘Is that Errol?’ Ron asked looking back to his brothers; the twins who had gotten their hands on several eclairs and were casting spells on them, looked up, looks of concern growing as they saw that the elderly owl was far too low on his approach and moving far too fast. Ron saw what was about to happen and moved to try and save his chessmen but was too slow as the owl careened into the board, sending the chessmen screaming in different directions, yelling obscenities at the owl, Ron, and their general lot in life.

The Weasley’s gathered round and retrieved the letter from Errol who’d promptly fallen to sleep flattened out on the table. One of the twins, opened the parchment and begun to read. A few moments later, he and his twin slumped back breathing a massive sigh of relief.

‘Ginny’s okay,’ he announced with a hidden weariness.

‘Oh Thank, Merlin’ Percy muttered to himself as he placed his head in his arms on the table.

Ginny, who had managed to hold it together long enough to get out of the Chamber, had collapsed not long after reaching the headmasters office. The long periods of possession and whatever draining ritual Tom had been trying to do had put a massive strain on her Core according to Professor Dumbledore. The case was far too serious and complex for Madam Pomfrey to sort out on her own, so Ginny had been rushed to St Mungo’s for specialists to look after her. The Weasley boys all gathered around each other took turns to reading through the letter, a weight visibly disappearing from each of them. Harry beginning to feel like he was intruding, tried to quietly slip away from the from the group, before he could, one of the twins grabbed him and pulled him into a hug.

‘Mum says she can never thank you enough for what you did’ George said letting Harry go as Fred poked his head round his Twin’s shoulder, a serious expression that he’d never seen on the trickster twins before, and said ‘We owe you Harry, our entire family owes you, you ever need anything, you will have it, we swear’

Harry found himself slightly overwhelmed by the genuine gratitude that seemed to be radiating from the Weasley boys. He nodded in response with a small bashful smile on his lips, trying not to meet their eyes he backed away murmuring that he was going to head back to the library. With a final nod and small grin he turned and made his way out of the Great Hall not towards the library but out on to the grounds.

The glorious blue sky greeted him, and warm summer air filled with the scent of flowers and slight breeze brushed his face as he rushed out of the stone courtyard just outside of the Entrance Hall and across the weathered wooden bridge. Harry dashed through the ancient standing stones on the other side before ducking down into a small copse of trees that formed a natural canopy, leaning against a study oak, he took a moment to catch his breath.

He stood there, surrounded by the gentle rustling of trees and the grounding feeling of the earth beneath him. He let himself slump down into a hollow at the base of the ancient oak. He still felt a little overwhelmed, not surprising he thought to himself, A lot had come to light and seeing the twins get serious, and the gratitude he saw in all their eyes, just felt too much.

He took a few minutes of quiet to just not think for a little while, releasing the racing thoughts in his head as if he was letting them drift away down a gentle river letting, his head empty of all the thoughts that had been crashing through his head since the second he hit the floor of his dorm that morning. The bonding to Dobby and the revelations about his family and just let them go, shutting his eyes and simply listening to the world around him. He could feel the slight breeze of the warm day cool as he focused on his breathing, and something else? Something faint but familiar, he focused on that sense of familiarity.

It was warm and protective, and he began to pull it forward from within him, bringing it to the surface and letting it settle just below his skin as it began to grow to encompass himself. He spent a while drawing that feeling up and down his arms, it was when he drew it to into his right hand he realised, this was his magic!

He’d felt it before in small bursts shoots when he’d tried to cast some of the more difficult spells, but he’d always assumed that it was a sort of feedback that he’d gotten from his wand. Was this safe? Playing with his magic like this or was this normal and something that every Wix is supposed to feel? and he was the odd one out for only now realising it? He’d ask Hermione or Neville later, maybe even Percy.

Blinking open his eyes that now felt crusty and rolling his stiff shoulders he realised he’d been there for far longer than he’d thought. The sky was painted in the delicate hues of dusk as the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon. Shocked he grabbed his wand from one of his pockets and cast a quick Tempus charm, a silverly 9:30pm floated from the tip of his wand. Damn, he’d missed dinner, he’d missed all afternoon! Not to mention that he was now breaking curfew for his year. Scrambling to his feet he quickly and cursing softly under his breath he quickly and as quietly as he could made his way towards the castle, which even set against the darkening skies, brought out that feeling of comfort, warmth and home that Harry had never felt anywhere else.

He was no stranger to being out after curfew, he’d done it quite a few times before now. But he usually wasn’t alone, had his invisibility cloak or had a reason for being out when he wasn’t supposed to. Mildly amused that he, for the first time in his school career had broken curfew through a genuine accident, he did not notice a feline form hiding just behind one of the armour statues. He started to climb the stairs in the main stairway, casting his eyes upwards to the maze of moving staircases trying to figure out which would get him to the dorm with the least detours.

“Ahem, Mr Potter, why perchance are you breaking curfew?” The strict accented tones of his head of house called out breaking the silence. Harry winced, feeling a little grateful that at least it wasn’t Snape

“Sorry Professor McGonagall, would you believe me if I genuinely didn’t realise it this time?” He said quietly thinking back to the time he was caught after he’d successfully smuggled a dragon out of the school.

Her eyes narrowed, roving over him appraisingly “In light of recent circumstances I will at least allow you to explain why you are breaking curfew by nearly 45 minutes” McGonagall spoke sharply, but not unkindly.

“Well, you see, after lunch I felt everything was well, just a bit too much and I left to get some air on the grounds” Harry started, the Professor angling her head upwards looking down her nose through the glasses balanced on her nose.

“I sat down to think things through a bit but after a while I sort of closed my eyes and started to picture some of the things that were bothering me floating away” Harry said still trying to figure out what had happened himself. He looked up at the Deputy Head and saw a brief flash of surprise before she quickly schooled her features. Harry hesitated thinking about that feeling of his magic that he discovered, wondering if it would be safe to tell her about it, she’d failed him before when he wasn’t believed about the Stone in first year.

But she had put him on the Quidditch team and had given him points for the troll. Even more so She hadn’t believed the nonsense about him being the Heir of Slytherin, screw it he’d needed to trust someone that didn’t have to go and look this up afterwards.

“Then something happened” Harry begun to say hesitantly “My mind went still, I don’t know for how long, but then I sort of felt this spark, and I could move it around me, up and down my arm, I think it was my own magic, is... is that normal?” Harry finished, looking up to Professor McGonagall, who appraised him with her sharp gaze, but there was a little something more in the expression now, something he hadn't seen on many adult faces before.

“I’ll make a deal with you Mr. Potter, if you’ll answer a few questions while I escort you back to the Tower, I'll not take points from you for breaking the curfew rules.” Professor McGonagall said that look still in her eye. Harry nodded quickly and happily; he was sure he’d be losing points and jumped at the chance to prevent it.

As the two began to ascend the many stairs they needed to reach the tower McGonagall asked “Roughly how long were you in this state for? if I may ask Mr. Potter” McGonagall questioned

“I don’t really know how long to be honest; I know I left the hall after the Weasley’s got a letter from their mother; I started a little bit after that, and I well woke up I suppose I could call it, about ten minutes ago” Harry answered quicky.

“Did you Intend to enter this state?”

“No Professor, I’ve never felt my magic like that before either”

“Well then Mr. Potter, I believe that you have intuitively stumbled upon two things, Occlumency and Meditation. Occlumency which is the magical means of guarding and organising the mind, and meditation, the magical version that is is where you focus on your own internal magic, it's very handy for learning deeper control. So, well done Mr. Potter. It is rare for both to come spontaneously” she said a Proud look on her face

“I am somewhat skilled in Occlumency as an ordered mind is required for advanced transfiguration, and meditation is a large part of the effort to become an Animagus. Now do take care if you wish to proceed with both. Occlumency is not often taught to minds as young as yours and it can have adverse effects on the development of a young mind. If that tingling feeling persists after any lengthy meditation or you see physical changes in your form afterwards, you are to come straight to me. Accidental Human Transfiguration is a possibility while meditating and Human transfiguration is a NEWT level subject after all. I don’t have any dedicated books towards meditation that don’t involve animagery of some kind, so forgive me if I don’t wish to have my students with animal forms to mind. I do, however, possess a small tome on beginners' preparation on occlumency. It should prove useful for both as many of the aspects of beginning Occlumency do indeed touch on the practice of Meditation.” Her wand appeared in her hand as McGonagall began a complicated pattern over her wandless one, a few moments later a small black book appeared which she handed to him.

Harry, surprised and a little in awe couldn’t stop himself asking “How did you do that?” before stopping himself “I mean Hermione would never forgive me if I never asked about a spell that conjures books” he sheepishly followed up not expecting an answer but was shocked to hear the strict and formidable Professor utter a very small chuckle.

“Indeed Mr. Potter, and no that was not true conjuration. That was a combination of a location charm tracking a specific book in my personal library, bringing it to me via an advanced summoning spell, a duplication spell, before returning the original back to my library. A combination of Transfiguration and Charms linked through chain casting, so that the intent is the same throughout. A remarkable piece of Spell work. One of your mothers in fact.” That look of Pride and a flash of sadness returning to her features.

“My Mum created that spell?” Surprise and delight at a new thing regarding his parents.

“Yes indeed, she couldn’t balance the need to have a massive library, with the need to always carry reference material around so she could have it on hand. Afterall expansion charms and runes will only go so far, so she found a short cut. To have the entirety of her personal library at her beck and call at all times. A devilishly tricky bit of arithmancy and rune work, first to create the spell, and then to memorise the precise location of each and every book in her library and their exact location on the shelves. She certainly was the brightest witch of her age”

“Could I ask you more about her? At another time I mean” Harry asked quietly, the dorm portrait quickly coming in to view.

“I’m sad to say, I truly did not know her as well as I should have. I knew your father better as James was well on the way to holding a mastery in Transfiguration after all and I would be happy and honoured to tell you about him.” McGonagall seemed to ponder over something

“I would go to Professor Flitwick if you wished to learn more about your mother, she held a full mastery of Charms Afterall, A fact that she happily teased your father about, that she’d earned a mastery a full year ahead of him” she said, the same saddened look colouring her features

“Ahh, here we are, Den sweet den, now as I promised I'll let the curfew breaking slide just this once. I said it before, but well-done Mr. Potter, few wizards your age stumble upon their direct connection to their magic at such a young age. Now in you go” McGonagall began to motion to open the Lady’s portrait.

“One more thing Professor” Harry blurted out

“Yes Mr. Potter” McGonagall replied in a partly bemused tone

“I was wondering that if it's not too late, Could I switch my electives for next year” Harry asked

The professor looked him in the eyes and seemed to reappraise him “Of course Mr. Potter, I can make any switches to up until two weeks before the start of the next year, what subjects do you wish to change?”

“I’d like to drop both Divination and Care, and replace them with Arithmancy and Runes please” Harry said

Professor McGonagall had a brief look of pride when he said the new subjects, Harry realised he could recognise the look when it was directed at someone else but didn’t know what to do when someone used it at him the Dursley’s certainly never used it towards him at least.

“I shall make the changes Mr. Potter. Though they are tough classes, it is good to see you applying yourself fully at last Harry” McGonagall stated, “If I may ask, what prompted the switch?”

“Well, I realised, recently” His thoughts turning to the chamber “That when I came to Hogwarts, everything was so new and exciting, and I wanted to know everything. I don’t know what happened, it's been confusing me a bit actually. But I sort of started to let things slip, the Chamber was a shock. I need to know more; I want to know more. I came across some runes earlier and they were so fascinating, and then I read some of Hermione’s Arithmancy books, and the small bits about spell alterations and crafting, are just... just” Harry realised he was starting to get carried away and stopped himself, looking up at the usually stern witch who now held his gaze with approval.

“Excellent, Mr. Potter, I will make note of the changes, keep this motivation up” she said as she turned on her heel and began to head down the stairs.

Harry muttered the password to the now impatient and put out looking portal guardian, and as the door swung open and he began to step inside, he heard the now distant voice of Professor McGonagall call out “5 Points to Gryffindor, for finding your Motivation Mr. Potter, but please refrain from breaking curfew if you can help it if you please”

Harry swore he could hear a little hidden laughter coming from the Professor’s direction as he turned and entered the Dorm. But before he could drink in the warmth and familiarity of the Gryffindor tower common room, A mop of fuzzy hair and the witch attached to it collided with his chest.

“Harry, where have you been, Me and Neville have been looking for you all afternoon and evening” a frantic voice whisper shouted.

“Calm down, Mi, I'm fine, I just sort of fell asleep on the grounds” harry said placatingly.

“On the grounds, what were you thinking, anything could have happened” she said as she pulled out of the hug, looking at harry. Harry could see the traces of genuine fear in her face and were those tears?

“It’s okay Hermione” he said pulling her back into the hug “It’s gone remember, the Basilisk is gone Hogwarts is safe again, no more monsters, no more trolls.” he whispered, ignoring the looks they were both getting from the busy common room. She held him for a few moments more before Harry felt a shuddering breath.

“I’m okay now Harry” She whispered extricating herself from the hug with a small smile.

A wolf whistle echoed through the busy but now quiet common room, as Harry suddenly remembered that he was standing at the entrance to the common room. Looking round he saw several people attempting to hide behind their books, or Ron and Dean who were far too engrossed in a chess game despite the eye flicks and half hidden grins on their faces. The Weasley twins sat by a table giving both Hermione and Harry knowing looks with mischievous smirks on their face.

‘What’s all that about’ Harry thought to himself not noticing the pink tinge to Hermione’s cheeks and glares she was sending at the twins. She grabbed harry by the wrist and dragged him across the room to a set of table and chairs where Neville was sat, the same chairs he and the boy had sat early this morning.

Settling deep into the plush armchairs he glanced out on the darkening grounds, before turning to his two friends, realising that Hermione had taken the seat opposite and was half-heartedly glaring at him. “What?” Harry questioned

“Well, what happened, how did you fall asleep on the grounds?”

“Ahh that, I didn’t really fall asleep. But I did lose all track of time.” he sheepishly replied

“After the Weasley’s crowded around me just after dinner everything felt a bit overwhelming, so I went for some fresh air on the grounds, and according to McGonagall, I stumbled two techniques when I tried to calm myself down.”

“Techniques, what do you mean” Hermione asked, worry slipping away and curiosity back in full force

“Well, it seems meditation and mental discipline aren’t just passive things in the magical world Mi” Harry responded, “I kind didn’t just lose track of time, I feel like I'm almost missing time. When I started thinking about what was bothering me as if it was floating down a river, they genuinely stopped bothering me.”

“That sounds like Occlumency” Neville said joining the conversation as he closed a herbology text, leaning in “I’m supposed to start learning it this summer according to gran”

“Yes, that’s exactly what McGonagall said it was, she gave me this book on it, she... ahh sort of caught me trying to sneak in from the grounds. But don’t worry Hermione she didn’t take any points and yes you can borrow the book” Harry said anticipating the question from Hermione

“But only once I've gotten through it, apparently it can be dangerous to learn too much occlumency before you get old enough and I don’t want to risk hurting myself or anything. But that’s not the only thing, once I'd gotten the hang of myself, I started meditating, and I could feel my own magic within me, and I could bring it to the surface and move it a little”

“What did it feel like” asked both Hermione and Neville at the same time

“Warm, and tingly, and well perfect. The closest I can think of is when you cast a spell... Or I know; when your wand finally chose you after trying a number of different wands in Olivanders” Harry chattered excitedly, Hermione was nodding, but Neville was still.

“W-what do you mean when your wand chooses you?” Neville asked, his voice quiet

“When you first hold the wand you are sure is going to work for you, you can feel your own magic running through you and out the wand, Mine created a golden ball of light when I first held mine” Hermione said kindly, a look of concern that was mirrored on Harry's face growing within both of them for their friend.

“I created red sparks and summoned a gust of wind around me, when I held my holly wand” Harry joined in “Did that not happen to you Nev?”

“I didn’t go to Olivander's. Gran gave me my dad's wand on the morning we caught the train in first year” Neville said quietly, now shrinking in on himself

Harry and Hermione shared a now fully concerned look, before Harry said “Nev, don’t take this the wrong way, but could the wand not choosing you be why you struggle with spellwork"

“NO, It’s my dad’s wand, he was a great and powerful wizard, I should be honoured to carry his wand. It’s me that’s the problem, everyone knows I'm not much better than a squib” Neville said harshly not meeting the eyes of the other two.

“But Olivander told me when I got my wand, that the wand chooses the wizard, and that you will never get the same results with another Wix's wand” Harry replied

“But it was my dad’s, I've got to live up to the example he set, I've got to...” He seemed to stumble over the next few words, but Harry was certain he heard Neville’s gran mentioned at some point. He recognised the tone in Neville’s voice, he was parroting those words.

“Okay, Okay, calm down Neville” Hermione interjected, cutting off Neville's stream of mumbled thoughts with a hand on his shoulder.

“Let's test this out, we’ll test using each other's wands using a simple spell.” She grabbed a goblet from the desk nearby.

“Let's use the umm... glassmaking spell, we’ll take it in turns to turning this goblet from silver to glass. Comuto Vitro is the spell”

She drew her wand and making a circular motion before drawing a vertical line downwards the small silver goblet that rapidly became transparent and glass. She flashed a satisfied smile at the two boys before muttering a quick Finite Incantatem and motioned for Harry to go next. Which he did and had no trouble with the spell before reversing it and turning to Neville who looked a little green. He and Hermione coached him through the spell as he mumbled the Incantation the first few times to no effect. Eventually he was partially successful turning the rim and a few centimetres of the silver goblet to glass

“Okay, now we switch wands and try it again, Harry, you take mine, give yours to Neville and I'll try with his” as she took Nevilles wand she gave it a look, eyebrows furrowing before “Okay Neville, try it again” she said with a smile

Neville still looked uncertain with the wand in his hand until he raised it at the silver goblet and clearly said the words “Comuto Vitro” and the sliver goblet immediately transformed into a perfect glass replica. He looked at both of them, shock etched into his face before pointing the wand again and undoing it; before whispering “Wingardium Leviosa” as the goblet steadily rose and hovered for a moment before he set it back down.

“I can feel it” he whispered in shock “what you were talking about, it's like a thin line of energy running down my arm and into the wand” he said to both of them eyes wide and a smile forming on his face.

“comuto vitro” Hermione intoned with Neville’s wand before gasping in shock and dropping the wand as if it had burned her “Owww” she shouted shaking her hand. Harry could see a thin red line down her palm where she had held the wand, harry levitated Neville’s wand back to him after taking his own back setting Hermione's on the table in front of her

“Miss Granger, are you alright” a voice asked from behind Harry, who turned to see the tall form of Percy Weasley standing there, mild concern in his voice

“Yes, yes I think so, we were just performing and experiment, and Neville’s wand burnt me when I tried to cast” shock giving way to confusion and surprise as Percy walked around and asked to see her hand.

“Hmm, Interesting, I was sitting just behind you, and I hope you don’t mind but I listened in on your conversation that led to your little experiment. Mr Longbottom, Mr Potter was quite correct when he said that Lord Olivander does indeed insist on the saying that you will never get better results than with your own matched wand.” his voice sounding an awful lot like McGonagall when she taught in class

Taking a seat next to Hermione, he started on a basic healing charm “Epishkey” “Thats one of the simplest healing charms you can learn, there’s no wand movement and you must picture the damage healing as you cast, it may be a little beyond your year but none the less, a very useful charm to know”

“Now back to the matter at hand, If I may ask each of you, what wood and Core are your wands?”

“Holly and Phoenix” Harry said

“Mine is made from Vine and Dragon Heartstring” she said holding the wand out for everyone to see

While Neville took a moment to answer as he stared at the wand on the table,

“U-u-mmm it’s a-ash, ash and dragon heartstring” he mumbled,

“Ash? Are you certain the wand is made from Ash? And it belonged to your father?” Percy asked eyebrows now raised

“Yes, I’m certain”

“Well, Mr Longbottom, I am surprised that you can cast any magic at all with that wand, wait just one moment, I need to grab a book” he said before briskly walking off and up the stairs to the boy's dormitory

“What's all that about” Neville asked quietly

“I’m not sure, I think Percy is talking about the inherent characteristics that certain wand woods look for in their owners. Honestly, I thought it was a bit woolly and esoteric, but now after your father's wand burnt me when I tried to use it, I'm not so sure to be honest. It felt uncomfortable in my hand just holding it, it was a like it was a cast iron skillet, but you forgotten to wrap the tea towel enough times to protect yourself” Harry winced, he’d made that mistake a once before.

“I considered buying a book on the subject of wand lore, but I’ve had to pick and choose between subjects and wand lore always drops down to the bottom of the priority order when it comes to spending my pocket money” she said with a light shrug.

“Though I might have had a flick through a book on wand woods just after I’d gotten mine” She followed up glancing at the floor as if she was embarrassed and had done something illegal.

“Vinewood is one of the woods that the druids used to use, They are quite rare, and belong to witches and wizards who seek a greater purpose, who have vison beyond the ordinary, and frequently astound those who think they know them best” She seemed to quote, her eyes almost glazed as if she was reading an invisible book in front of her. Harry whole heartedly agreed with that statement but didn’t say so out loud.

“Correct Miss Granger, practically verbatim” Percy stated, who seemed impressed as he flicked through a book on wand lore it seemed from the embossing on the leather cover.

Taking a seat, he paged through the book and with a quiet exclamation “ahh, he we are, Ash” as he began to read a passage from the book,

“Ash wands are as loyal as hounds, often referred to as Dog wands among the wand crafter community. These wands must never be passed on and will only work for their original master. This wand wood is also stubborn” He closed to book with a sharp snap

“Well Mr Longbottom, it would seem your grandmother has made a grave error, in attempting to pass your fathers wand onto you, quite frankly it is remarkable you are able to cast at all. I would recommend you speak to Professor McGonagall first thing in the morning. I know the year is almost over, but an improper wand should be rectified immediately. Though if you would be so kind to indulge me would you attempt to cast the same glassification spell with my wand”

Neville did so and seemed to have the same issue that he had with his fathers but did manage to so in the end at least partially, much to the surprise of Percy.

“Is your wand also Ash, Percy?” Hermione asked

“No, mine is Acacia, but it also has a very similar issue that Ash does, where it’ll often refuse to work for any but their owner. The fact that you can cast through it, Mr Longbottom, even if not well is very surprising. Even my own brothers couldn’t get it to work” he said with a glance at the twins, who were hunched over a few different parchments, whispering to each other.

Percy left them a short while later saying they ought to be off to bed soon as it was now long past 10pm. The three lingered a little while longer, Harry and Hermione chatting away about various subjects, trying to draw Neville into their conversation. He seemed to have withdrawn a little, contributing on a the occasional Yes or No to the conversation; Harry thought that Neville must be having trouble with the fact that his Gran had effectively sabotaged the first few years of his Hogwarts career. They only sat up Ten minutes longer before head saying goodnight and heading to their dorms.

Neville was still sullen as he prepared for bed, Harry could see it in his face, and in his movements, he seemed a bit lost. Harry knew he had to say something, but he didn’t know what, should he try and build his confidence? As he got ready to climb into bed, Neville came back from the bathroom and Harry made up his mind and caught his gaze

“You know Neville, you are going to be a great wizard. To be able to cast though a wand that shouldn’t work for any but your dad, is amazing. Percy seemed really impressed. And I think your mum and dad would be too” he spoke quietly before closing the bed curtains and leaning back into his pillows. He could just barely hear, a few sniffs and a quiet word from the darkness that now covered the room, “Thank you Harry”.

Chapter Text

Harry woke early again the next morning, but this time he felt fully rested, calm, and content. The nightmares hadn’t returned to plague him last night. Pulling back the dark red hanging curtains, the room was bathed in the soft golden glow of a day just beginning, the early sunlight danced across the tapestries, and cast playful shadows on the stone walls. The occlumency and meditation must have really helped, he’d have to read that book McGonagall gave him. He felt as If the cobwebs had been cleared a little, he’d been feeling better than ever day by day since the Chamber now that he took a moment to think upon it.   

He cheerfully swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched, muscles responding to the motion with a satisfying twinge. As he stood and started to pull his night things off, he allowed himself to take in the morning tranquillity, the subtle sounds of his roommates sleeping. It seems that Herbologists don’t always rise with the sun, he thought to himself with a little grin. Before quietly getting his toiletries and robes before taking off to the bathroom for a morning shower.   

Refreshed and changed into his trusty blue robe, that had apparently been laundered overnight from the fresh scent it gave off. He made his way down to the common room after grabbing the small black leather book on occlumency that McGonagall had given him the previous evening. Taking in the comfort of the common room once again he settled into the chair he’d sat in the previous evening and morning, and just drank in the view of the grounds once again, before settling in and cracking the spine of the book.   

Introduction  

Harmony Within: A beginners Prelude to Occlumency Through Meditation 9 th edition  

In the tapestry of magical arts, few threads are as delicate and yet as empowering as the practice of nurturing your own mind and emotions. Before embarking on the intricate journey of Occlumency, the art of shielding your mind from external influences, it is essential to establish a foundation of inner balance and self-awareness. This is where “Harmony within: A Beginner’s Prelude to Occlumency” comes into play- and enlightening guide designed to help you cultivate emotional well-being and clarity as a prelude to the magical art of Occlumency.   

Occlumency, often associated with safeguarding your thoughts and memories from prying minds, is rooted in the intimate connection between your magical energy and your emotional landscape. Before you can even construct the first mental barrier, it is vital to foster a harmonious relationship with your own emotions and thoughts. By nurturing this connection, you lay the groundwork for effective Occlumency and a greater connection to your magic.   

Throughout the pages of “Harmony Within” We will explore the pivotal steppingstones towards self-mastery, including:   

EMBRACING EMOTIONS: Delve into the mosaic of human emotions and discover how they serve as the building blocks of magic. Learn to understand, acknowledge, and embrace your emotions to harness their potential in magical casting.  

THE INNER SANCTUM: Journey within to explore the sanctuary of your own mind. Understand the interconnectedness of your thoughts and emotions, and how their interplay shapes your magical potential.   

MINDFUL AWARENESS: Cultivate the art of mindfulness- an essential practice that nurtures the present moment. Through mindful awareness, you learn to become an observer of your thoughts and emotions, gaining control over their influence  

CONSTRUCTIVE EXPRESSION: Develop the skill of expressing emotions in constructive ways. Discover how creative outlets, be they artistic endeavors or spell work and contribute to your magical growth.   

PREPARING FOR OCCLUMENCY: With the foundation of emotional awareness in place, glimpse into the world of Occlumency as the logical extension of this introspective journey, as knowing one's own mind, will allow you to know when others are acting upon it, or indeed, inside it. However, a word of caution- like the roots of a young sapling, attempting to master Occlumency too young can disrupt the delicate balance of mental control, potentially leading to long-term challenges.   

As you embark on the path to emotional mastery “Harmony Within” and I the author Silvia Potter, will serve as your guide, offering insights, reflections, and practical exercises to support your growth. While the complexities of Occlumency await, the art of tending to your inner landscape is a gift you bestow upon yourself- one that sets the stage for a fulfilling magical life.   

Whether you are a budding witch or wizard seeking to cultivate emotional resilience or an accomplished magic wielder desiring to deepen your connection with yourself, this book, holds the key, to unlocking the treasures of your own consciousness. Your journey begins not with fortifying your mind against others, but by nurturing your own inner garden- a garden that, when tend to with care, blossoms into a wellspring of strength, serenity, and potent magic, for when you mind your mind, intent becomes conjurable at all times, and magic is Intent made manifest.   

 Harry was enthralled the moment he’d finished the introduction, quickly turning to the first chapter “ Emotions as magical Catalysts”. Grabbing a spare piece of parchment from the communal parchment pile near the bookcase and fishing a self-inking quill from his pocket and got to work taking notes as he read. He didn’t pay any mind to others who had gotten up early and worked through the book making note of the concepts that the various chapters covered. He paid special attention to the meditation exercises that the book recommended. He would be trying a few of them out as soon as he got chance.  

 He found the book engaging and incredibly helpful, though even if he didn’t, he’d likely read it anyway since it was written by one of his ancestors. It was part self help guide, part meditation guide, as well as being a general magical theory book that touched on how a Wix could connect to their magic on a deeper level. Though he had almost had a minor panic attack at learning that there were those out there that could gain access to his mind, to read his thoughts and memories.   

He worked for a good while longer producing several pages of notes, ideas and questions he had of his own. He’d gotten to around halfway through the book and was studying a chapter that covered the particularly interesting concept of transmuting emotions, with an emphasis on transmuting negative emotions to positive ones to help with clarity; though a thought did come to him when he wondered could the inverse also be true, that you could transmute positive to negative to fuel darker spells? He was deep in thought wondering about this when he felt a tap on his shoulders. Shaking his head to shift his focus, he turned around to see Neville, Hermione and Ron standing there, Ron looking exasperated, Neville amused, and Hermione seemed delighted.   

“Bloody Hell, mate been trying to get your attention for like five minutes” Ron said unamused  

“I came down, around half an hour ago and you didn’t even notice” Neville grinned as he spoke  

“Come on, as much as I like to see you so focused on your studies, we should get to breakfast” Hermione said fondly  

“It’s nearly half 9, breakfast will be finishing soon, and you need to eat” she continued holding up his ratty second-hand book bag and helping him gather his notes.  

“We can go to the library afterwards, and you can explain what has gotten you so focused, I’ve never seen you study like that before” she said with a pointed look.   

“Can we just go, before all the food is gone” Ron moaned  

“If you wanted to make sure you would make breakfast you should have woken up earlier, Ronald” Hermione sniped.   

“Oh, come on Hermione I like I nice lie in on a Sunday” Ron fired back.   

As the group made their way out of the portrait and down the stairs. Ron and Hermione continued to snipe at each other as they made their way into the great hall and sat down for breakfast. The gorgeous aroma of breakfast still filling the air. Chatter and conversation bouncing all around the hall as the students of Hogwarts prepared for another lazy weekend day at the end of another year. Normally this sort of attitude amongst the students wasn’t seen until after the exams, but since they’d been cancelled for most students this year, and the O.W.L’s and N.E.W.T students had finished their exams the previous day, there was a feeling of absolute freedom and relaxation in the air. Students made plans to take advantage of their free time, and freedom from the restrictive rules that the Chamber affair had placed upon them.   

The quartet enjoyed a nice breakfast, with Ron and Hermione siting on either side of Harry, placed by Harry on purpose to prevent bickering, though it did leave Harry at the mercy of Ron’s atrocious table manners as he devoured a full English breakfast. Harry meanwhile enjoyed a bacon sandwich, Neville did the same, passing Harry a few slices of a rich cheddar cheese, suggesting that he add them to the sandwich and let it melt a bit first. Hermione tucked into a bowl of porridge topped with summer fruits and honey, naturally with a book open in her other hand.   

After the group's hunger was sated, and thirst quenched with plentiful amounts of juice, tea and coffee. Ron spotted Seamus and Dean, before turning to Harry,  

“Me, Seamus and Dean managed to get one of the free flight slots from Hooch yesterday mate, want to join?” Ron asked with a smile as he popped the last of a slice of toast into his mouth.   

Harry fought against the urge to immediately say yes, but decided against it, he really wanted to get back to that book, and finish it as soon as possible. It’s not that he didn’t want to fly he absolutely did, there were few things better than flying in his mind and he had barely flown outside of quidditch practice this year.  

But, as a member of the Gryffindor quidditch team, he could fly at any time. A privilege given only to members of the house teams. Madam Hooch trusted the skills of the team players to allow them to fly at any time during the day, and anywhere on the grounds provided they were being sensible. The other students, however, had to book time in one of the free fly slots throughout the weekend, which she monitored over the lawns or lake.   

“Sorry Ron, I've got a few things I need to sort out today, though why don’t you borrow my Nimbus” he said, writing down a permission on a scrap of parchment; which was another of the flying instructor's rules. Since the brooms owned by the players tended to be of much higher quality and more powerful than some of the frankly ancient school brooms. Others could use the players brooms provided they’d gotten permission.   

“Be careful though, the acceleration will surprise you If you overdo it on take-off, and one of the tail sprigs is starting to bend causing a slight list to the right. I want my broom back in one piece... oh and you as well I suppose” he said with a grin handing over the parchment   

“Thanks Mate, this is amazing” Ron replied, eyebrows in his hairline in surprise, “and of course, I'll look after your broom, thanks again” he said as he dashed over to Dean and Seamus, who not long after gave him a thumbs up with massive smiles, before dashing from the hall.   

“That was nice of you, Harry, are you sure you didn’t want to go flying?” Hermione asked  

“Nah I can fly anytime I want on the weekend; I really want to finish that book today” He responded taking another sip of coffee.   

Neville looked up at the high table and saw Professors McGonagall and Sprout rise together and begin to make their way out of the Hall. Neville looked back to Harry and asked with a quiet voice “Harry, w-would you mind coming to talk to McGonagall with me, you k-know about my w-w my dad’s wand”   

Harry didn’t hesitate, “Of course Nev, lets catch them in the entrance hall, Hermione meet me in the library?” he asked   

“Of course,” She responded with a warm smile as she stood up as well.   

Harry and Neville caught the two Professors as they were about to start ascending the stairs out of the entrance hall to the main stairway. Harry nudged Neville to get him to start the conversation.   

“E-excuse me Professor McGonagall” Neville stammered slightly,   

The usually stern witch and the bubbly Herbology professor turned to greet them.   

“Good morning, gentlemen. Can I help you?” McGonagall questioned   

“U-umm, I w-was hoping I could h-have a word, It’s Its about my wand” Neville said, Harry could hear stutter getting a little worse, He’d noticed Neville tended to clam up a little Infront of some of the professors He couldn’t even function in front of Snape. But harry could barely blame him for that one, Snape was utterly ruthless in his classroom, especially towards Gryffindor's and even worse to Gryffindor’s who had a track record of blowing up cauldron’s, which Neville was unfortunately known to do.  

“Indeed, Mr. Longbottom, and what seems to be the issue” Sprout replied kindly, McGonagall also seemed concerned   

“Pomona, why don’t we take this somewhere private, are you comfortable speaking to us both or is this a Gryffindor only issue?” Professor McGonagall queried. Looking at Neville through her glasses.   

“B-both Would be fine” Neville replied.   

“Very well, the first-floor staff room is just around the corner if you two will follow me” McGonagall, spoke, beginning to move quickly as she continued a quiet conversation with Professor Sprout who was talking about the price she’d gotten for the remaining mandrakes, Harry tried to listen in.  

“...I know Minerva, we grow them yearly, but we normally sell the entire crop. But the Medusa’s Bane curative needed large quantities of refined mandrake essence, which needs the pulping of a several mandrakes per dose... the loss of them is going to deplete the budget by no small amount.”   

“I’d much rather we take a hit to our budget and have used the resources to revive our students Pomona. Besides, what with that pretentious fop Lockheart gone, the headmaster has authorized the recovery of half his payment. Since he attempted to seriously harm students; that and well the fact that he was a massive fraud. Not that it wasn’t obvious to anyone that knows the right way to hold a wand, I’ll not be letting Albus forget this one, he was worse than Slinkhard. At least Slinkhard did teach some spell work, though what did he say ‘he did so under protest’” McGonagall seemed like she was about to embark on an epic rant about the state of the DADA post when Professor Sprout interrupted  

“Ahh here we are, come on inside boys”   

The staffroom was empty, and while Harry had been in here before, he didn’t really have the chance to take a proper look around. Since he’d been under the invisibility cloak and trying to find a professor to tell them there was a Basilisk in the chamber and where the chamber was. Then he and Ron had dived into a cloak closet and had learnt about ginny being taken. Shaking off the dark memory he took the chance to get a proper look at the room.  

Looking around he saw a surprisingly cozy and inviting space. It was richly adorned with tapestries that depicted scenes from throughout magical history. The room had a quiet air of more refinement than other parts of the castle Harry thought. The walls were lined with bookshelves, each laden with an assortment of magical texts and teaching materials, comfortable armchairs and plush sofas were arranged in small clusters. Deep crimson and forest green were the predominant colours, evoking a feeling of warmth.   

In one corner, a large empty fireplace stood. The mantle above it displayed an array of magical artifacts, ranging from peculiar, to curious specimens in crystal containers. A teapot sat nearby on a table, steam pouring from its spout always ready to provide a cup of tea or cocoa from the rich scent it was giving off.   

Large windows made up one wall and allowed natural light to filter in that cast a soft glow that highlighted the room’s welcoming ambiance. The windows overlooked the grounds, offering a view of the lawns and the ever-changing tapestry of the sky, which was currently a glorious blue, dotted with a few whisps of cloud.   

Prof. McGonagall motioned for Harry and Neville to take a seat on the sofa, as she and Sprout took the armchairs opposite.   

“Now then Mr. Longbottom, how can we help you? If your wand is broken, I know, the feeling of breaking a wand, feels utterly atrocious. But you can very much find another, or if worse comes to it, a custom wand is possible, if a fair bit more expensive.” McGonagall spoke kindly, concern in her eyes   

“N-no, I-it's not B-broken" Neville started to say as he drew it from his pocket.   

“I D-don't think that it chose me, it d-doesn't work r-right, you see I-it belonged to my d-d" Neville tried to say before being interrupted.  

“Well, if you spent more time on practicing, perhaps you’d see better results, your work particularly on the theoretical side is exceeds expectations in my classroom, Mr. Longbottom, would you like additional tutoring” McGonagall said sternly but not unkindly. None the less, Harry didn’t like the way this was going, he could see Neville shutting down at being dismissed like this, there’s no way that Neville could ever interrupt McGonagall.    

“Ash, Professor, the wand is made of Ash, and it belonged to his father” Harry spoke loudly, interrupting the Professor.   

“Goodness gracious” Sprout spoke while Professor McGonagall’s eye flew wide in shock.   

“Mr. Longbottom, I’m very sorry, please accept my apologies, it’s not the first time I've had a student attempt to slide using the mismatched wand excuse. I should have let you finish before assuming.” Prof. McGonagall spoke softly and kindly her shoulders loosening as she shifted from the stern professor to something else as she leaned slightly forward, hands clasped in front of her.   

“Neville, may I take a look at the wand in question?” Professor Sprout asked kindly, as she moved from the armchair to sit next to Neville.   

He nodded and handed the wand over, harry noticed the slight wince on sprout’s face when she handled the wand  

“Definitely ash, and definitely already bonded to someone else. Merlin, it’s antagonistic, I don’t even want to think about attempting to cast with this wand” Sprout said   

“Augusta, you stubborn old fool, what were you thinking” McGonagall said quietly, as she stood “You should have known better since you wielded an Ash wand of your own before having a custom made for you, Morgana blasted idiot” she spoke much louder this time and started walking towards the fireplace, wand practically appearing in her hand as she cast a flame spell into the hearth.   

“Mr. Longbottom, please rest assured, I will be making sure that you shall be receiving a wand that is truly matched to you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I'm going to speak to an old friend and make sure that she remembers a few crucial things about wand lore.” as she grasped a handful of floo power and tossed it in before calling out, “Longbottom Manor” and stepping into the emerald flames  

Neville in the meanwhile seemed a little spellshocked partly because a professor had profusely apologized to him, but mostly harry thought, at the sound and sight of the normally reserved Professor McGonagall getting irate and insulting his gran of all people and finally at being told that he would be getting a new wand.   

“You okay Nev” Harry asked   

Neville blinked a few times, as if still trying to process everything that had just occurred. Before focusing on the cup of Cocoa that the Hufflepuff head of house and just pushed into his hands.   

“Y-yeah, just a little stunned, I-I've never heard anyone talk about my Gran like that before” he muttered   

“Now don’t you worry Nevile” Sprout intoned kindly “We’ll make sure you are sorted out properly before too long” a warm smile on her features as she sipped from her own mug. “Now Mr. Potter, was there a matter you also wished to bring up?” she questioned to Harry.  

“Oh, no thank you Ma’am, I was just keeping Neville company” He replied truthfully meeting Sprout’s eyes   

“Oh, good lad, 5 Ponts to Gryffindor, for support of a fellow student” She spoke in a warm tone before turning back to Neville and speaking quite softly as if she was trying to draw him back out of his shell.  

“Ahh, I meant to mention Neville, just this morning, I’ve just received the shipment of Helionias Bullata I was talking about the other day, would you be interested helping me sorting through the seeds and beginning the process to getting them potted?”   

Harry could see Neville brighten immediately at the mention of a rare plant.  

“They came? Yes, I'd love too. Did your colleague ever confirm the plants teleportation properties? like she theorized in the Herbologist’s Almanac last year?” He quickly replied, excitement evident in his voice as he began to confidently describe to harry the theorized properties of this rare plant. Harry had to admit a plant that could somehow teleport was indeed interesting as far as his interest in Herbology extended, which if he had to admit, was nowhere near as extensive as Neville’s.   

“You’re going to head to the Greenhouses then?” Harry asked as if it wasn’t a forgone conclusion that his friend wouldn’t immediately take the offer to explore a new plant. Neville nodded a now contagious smile on his face.   

“Alright, I'll see you later then, I'm heading to meet Hermione in the Library” Harry responded as he rose from the sofa and made his way to the door while waving  

“Thank you for your time professor” he added as he left the staffroom back into the hallways of the school.   

It didn’t take Harry long to make his way to the solid dark oaken doors of the library. Stepping through quietly he enjoyed the rich scent of parchment, the mild sharp sting of ink and the subtle earthy notes of the leather bindings as he meandered through the stacks. As he passed the main desk the hawklike Librarian Madame Prince fixed him with a firm glare before a short nod of acknowledgement and raising a thin finger pointing towards one of the side study rooms.   

Tucked away in the corner of the library by the entrance, there were nestled a series of small study rooms designed for smaller more intimate group study sessions. They were usually always reserved by Owl and Newt students due to the fact that casting magic was allowed in these rooms.  

The entrance was a simple wooden door, unobtrusive yet inviting. As he stepped inside, he found Hermione already seated at the round oak table that took up the centre of the room. She was engrossed in a book she had laid out in front of her. The morning sunlight filtered through the circular skylight above the table casting a soft glow as she leaned over the pages. The gentle rustling of parchment turning and the scratching of her quill against paper filled the air, creating a soothing backdrop to the room’s atmosphere.   

The Honey-hued wood panelling seemed to invite him in as he greeted Hermione with a smile and placed his book bag on the floor as he took the chair next to her and looked around. He’d never been in one of these rooms before, they were too in demand by the upper years throughout most of the school year. The shelves of the room held an array of the most common reference texts for a variety of subjects, from History to magical theory. The room felt like a haven for intellectual pursuits, a place where knowledge was respected, revered and cherished.   

The cushioned chairs were comfortable as Harry sat down, Hermione looked up from her book, her eyes lighting up a mixture of just lapsed concentration and happiness. The corners of her lips lifted in a warm smile, as she spoke   

“Morning, did everything go well with Professor McGonagall harry?” she asked   

“It took a moment, but yes. I had to interrupt McGonagall before she started making Neville feel bad but yeah.” Harry said with a little anger in his voice.  

He took a moment to remember what the book had said about his emotions and looked at why. The cause was McGonagall interrupting Neville and starting to make him feel bad about a serious concern and making him doubt himself again. Harry took a breath and let it go, the Professor had apologized immediately and then apparently gone off to yell at Nevilles grandmother. He told the whole story to Hermione who had a similar response as him, although a lot more muted, Harry thought that her absolute faith in the teachers must have been shaken a bit after Lockheart had been proven to be an absolute fraud.   

Harry fished around in his bag for the Harmony Within book and pulled a few sheets of parchment along with his ink bottle and quill.   

“You know you never did explain what has gotten you so fascinated with that book Harry” Hermione spoke breaking the companionable silence, curiosity in her tone.   

“It’s just a very good book, it puts quite a lot of things that I've sort of struggled with into context for me.”  

Harry took a moment to organise his thoughts before continuing  

“You know I've always been much more of a practical learner, but lately, I've been finding it much easier to focus on things, rather than getting distracted or fidgety”   

“It places magic as a very much a part of myself rather than just a tool to be used. It also helps that it was written by one of my Ancestors. Other than my dad's cloak or my photo album it helps to sort of drive home what Neville was saying yesterday. That the Potters are so much more, it makes me feel like I actually belong in this world, that I'm not just visiting.” Harry finished solemnly.   

“You really felt that way Harry?” Hermoine asked sadly   

“Yeah, I feel it more so at the end of the year. The end of the year means I'm going back to them” he said darkly  

“It sometimes feels like school is just a break from being there at Privet Drive. Gah, enough of that, I'll get through it, September will be here before we know it and a few more years and I'll never have to go back there again.” Harry spoke more confidently than he felt. Before heading off whatever Hermione was about to say he didn’t want to talk about the summer holidays by saying  

“What are you working on Mi?”   

“Oh, I’m doing a bit of reading on the basics of Arithmancy. Honestly the mathematics seem quite straightforward, it seems a little bit like physics calculations but with a healthy dose of Numerology replacing the parts where you would typically have universal constants such as... I think at least” Hermione replied, a little perplexed and not entirely confident.  

“I’m sure that It’ll get covered in the class Hermione, no need to self-study completely” Harry joked lightly,  

“I switched my electives last night by the way, I asked McGonagall, you're stuck with me for Runes and Arithmancy now” he followed up with a grin, Hermione smiled back happily before returning to her book; Harry did the same as he opened Harmony Within to where he left off and dipped his quill into the inkwell.   

The two worked in a comfortable silence for a good while, every now and then one of them would bring up a question that they wanted a second opinion on.  

Hermione asked a few questions when she switched from Arithmancy to reviewing Defence against the Dark Arts, from an actual curriculum she’d found a few days prior to her petrification, not Lockheart’s tripe.  

Harry who had already borrowed said Curriculum and had worked through it, helped her out with a few of the more tricky spells that should have been taught that year, such as “S cutum” a low-level shielding spell that would work well against very low-level jinxes and hexes or working with modifiers such “ Lumos Duo” and “ Lumos Trio” spells which need a motion to separate from the ball of light from wand tip to allow the multiple orbs to be cast.  

Harry did try to experiment with that Lumos spell and add a maxima to the end of the trio variant; He did accidently overpower the spell, finding it surprisingly easy. Which had the unfortunate side effect of filling the room with three frighteningly bright orbs the size of melons before he’d managed to get rid of them, leaving the two blinking spots out of their eyes and Hermione badgering him about messing around with modifiers. After that slight accident they decided to call their studies there for the day and headed to dinner.   

The few remaining weeks of school quickly slipped away, with classes being revision and the occasional quiz on the part of the teachers to ensure that the year’s knowledge was quite firmly placed in the students' heads.  

Harry, Hermione, Neville and Ron spent their free time basking in the warmth of a summer finally arrived after a terrifying year, though Ron would often spend a fair bit of his time hanging out with Seamus and Dean, Harry went flying with them every now and then enjoying the fantastic sensation of simply being in the air. He loved quidditch he really did, but simply gliding through the air was fantastic.  

He did plenty more research aided by Neville’s knowledge. Mostly on the structure of the Wizengamot, and Neville had started the painful process of trying to teach Harry etiquette. Which frustrated Harry endlessly; but after a great deal of convincing on why he needed to learn five different types of greetings, bows and methods of address he did his best to learn.   

Harry’s dreams while still very much occurring, stopped affecting him to the extent he was unable to think, with help from the Occlumency Prelude book, he was able to calm himself down enough to return to sleep when they occurred. The hour he spent meditating every night before bed might also be helping a great deal Harry thought. Harry found that he could reach that little ball of magic within him much easier after a few weeks of meditation. He’d begun to try and teach Neville and Hermione meditation too; he’d offered the same to Ron who’d just given him a look like he was insane before quickly checkmating Harry for the 3 rd time in a row.  

Hermione seemed to be struggling with the meditation despite having read through the prelude after Harry had read it for the second time. She seemed to struggle with the quieting of her mind as far as Harry could tell. Being able to let things go and not think was very difficult for her. Neville however, picked up meditation even faster than Harry, though the Neville had a different approach, He pictured his own greenhouse filled with rare and wonderous plants, and imagined himself peacefully sitting inside.   

But despite it all, the year, as much Harry could have wished it, could not go on forever. The Hogwarts Express was due to leave the very next day to return him to the one place, he truly wished he didn’t have to go.  

Afterall Hogwarts was his Home, not there, Privet drive had never been his home Harry thought idly as practiced a packing spell he’d picked up from a compendium of household charms It was at that moment, the moment when he was lamenting leaving Hogwarts again and firmly thinking to himself that he would never be able to call Number 4 Privet Drive home, he felt something within him snap, and a rush of energy poured into him.   

Chapter Text

A rush of energy seemingly out of nowhere seemed to flow into Harry, but he didn’t feel invigorated only incredibly drained.  Suddenly feeling very dizzy he grabbed onto one of the dark wooden posts of his bed. Before carefully lowering himself down to the soft mattress; breathing heavily, his eyesight beginning to turn black with only faint pinpricks of sight remaining in the middle of his already awful vision.  

A moment later his vision began to return slowly, breathing slowly turning ragged but much slower as Harry could feel his heartbeat begin to recede from his pounding against his eardrums. He was shaking like a leaf, sweat beading on his forehead and back making his shirt stick to it. He still felt far too warm so he reached out with a trembling arm to open one of the dormitory windows.   

As he let the cool evening air pushed by the winds this high in the air billow across his form, there was a crack and the diminutive form of Dobby popped into existence right next to his bed. The elf seemed to take one look at him before shock appeared on the elf’s face and he rushed forward.  

“Master Harry sirs is you sick? Yous is not looking well, ohh bad dobby, yous take your time getting well and you is not taking care of yours master, bad dobby” screeched the elf. Harry, half lidded took a quick glance at the elf but was glad to know that despite dobby berating himself he wasn’t trying to hurt himself and spoke.  

“I don’t know what happened dobby, I was just packing, and I felt something rush into me and all of a sudden I felt faint” he said weakly.  

Harry saw a pale blue light form in Dobby’s hand as the elf placed it on his head.  

“Dobby be not a nurse elf Master Harry, but as I is bonded to yous I can tell, yours magical cores be having a shock. Is as if you has been casting a spell too powerful for yous but not realising untill the spell be done” Dobby said worriedly, he popped away briefly before reappearing with a bottle of a pale blue potion which he promptly handed to Harry and urged him to drink.   

Harry tipped the pale blue potion and felt an icy heat begin to permeate his stomach as the trembling in his limbs stopped. He felt a little energy begin to fill him back up as he rested against the headboard, now realising he felt ravenously hungry.   

“Thanks Dobby” he breathed “What was that? and what was that potion?” He asked the first half mostly to himself, but Dobby still answered   

“I not knows Master Harry, Dobbys best guess be that you is magically exhausted. But is not extreme case, the Peppery ups potion be doing its work, you needs a good nights rest, and something tasty to eats. You just change for bed now. Dobby takes care of yous now” Dobby chattered as he conjured and placed a plate of sandwitches on the side table next to the bed.  

Harry didn’t feel like arguing with the elf, not that he thought he had the energy to do so, so did as he was ordered. He quickly changed into his pyjamas and crashed back on the bed whilst reaching for a sandwich. As he ate, he could hear the elf popping around and retrieving his things and no doubt doing a far better job of packing than he ever could. After he’d eaten, he sat still feeling half asleep, his eyelid weighted from exhaustion, though he slowly began to feel a little less weak with his strength slowly returning.   

“Yous things is all packed Master Harrys sir” Dobby said as he popped in next to the bed with a smile on his face. Harry had not intended for this to be his first meeting with Dobby since the binding but, he was still grateful.  

“Thanks again Dobby” Harry said smiling, now properly looking at the elf.  

The difference was stark, his skin, which was once a mottled pinkish grey coated in a patchwork of multi-coloured bruises had healed well. His skin colour still the same pinkish grey but seemed to have more lustre and shine to it no longer seeming raw. The bandages which he’d long come accustomed to seeing on the elf were long gone, with not even a trace of scaring where years of wounds would have built up throughout his life at the Malfoy’s. His eyes were no longer bloodshot, and the bags under them had disappeared. He looked like a new elf, in his crisp and clean pillowcase. The elf also seemed taller, as Harry sat up against the headboard blinking blearily even now still dead tired but not feeling as if he was about to collapse. Harry noticed that Dobby seemed like he was taller now that he truly paid attention. Before Dobby likely only stood as tall as his waist, but now he easily would stand at chest height, no shoulder height perhaps.   

“It’s good to see you Dobby, you look well, a big change since the day of the bonding” Harry said warmly  

Dobby responded with a little dance from side to side and a big smile “It is good to be seeings yous too Master Harry, I is being feeling much better than when he’s was nasty malfoys, yous magic is being excellent, Dobby knews you is being a powerful wizard. Is fixing dobby right up, Dobbys own magic be much stronger than before, now that Dobby wants to work for his family”   

“You know that I'm going to my relatives to stay for the summer right Dobby?” Harry asked dobby nodded his head quickly as an answer.  

“Which is going to be tricky, you are not going to be able to work there” Harry said before dropping his voice to a whisper “They hate magic, and I cannot risk getting another warning from the ministry like when you got me in trouble last year.” Dobby looked ashamed when harry brought up the pudding incident from the previous summer.   

“Thats not be happening again, Dobby promises, Dobby used a special trick with the puddings, House elf magic is not normallys findable bys the Ministry people. Dobby did special tricks on purpose to gets yous in trouble.” the elf said sadly before continuing “Dobbys be watching Master Harry for goods whiles last summer, yous is not beings treated rights in there, so dobbys be looking afters you” the elf finished sternly meeting Harry’s eyes as if to challenge him.  
 
Harry tried to counter “Okay, but you’ve still got to be careful, if my relatives find you they will try to kill you, you cannot be seen” he said seriously   
 
“Dobby bes a very good house elf when he wants to be, and good house elves be impossible to see, certainlys by nasty muggles” Dobby replied almost waving harry off with a motion of his hands. “Dobby be making sure his family is safe, mean muggles who is cruel, is not part of his families unless Master orders it” He finished, Harry smiled, the confidence in Dobby’s voice was soothing, to have someone else who was entirely in his corner was comforting.  

“Is there anything I can do for you Dobby? I know I promised to pay you, but we didn’t get a chance to sort everything out after the ritual, so how much do you want?” He asked the elf warmly   

“Dobby, not being sure Master Harry, hows about 2 knuts a month and a day off?” Dobby almost shying away as if he was asking for something outrageous and he immediately looked ashamed when he saw the flabbergasted look on Harry's face Dobby immediately assuming he’d pushed things too far.  

“That is far too little dobby, way less than you deserve, 20 galleons a month and weekends off” he countered  

“EVERYWEEKENDS ?” Dobby shouted shocked at the offer, “No, no, no, is too much Dobby be enjoyings his freedom, but he be liking work much more, 5 days off a year and, and, and 5 sickles a month” he said gaining a bit more confidence.   

“Okay, okay, how about this, you can have two days off every month, and two galleons. That way you can buy yourself some nice things or get a hobby or two for things to do on your day off” Harry said warmly but a bit more firmly, it was still way lower that what he really wanted to give the elf, though, most didn’t give their elves anything. Dobby still seemed a little hesitant but with a little prompting by Harry sticking out his hand for a handshake the little elf smiled and grasped his hand.    

“Now, is there anything else you need Dobby?” he asked while eyeing the pillowcase he wore which gave him a question and an idea “I know I can't give you clothes, but I'd like it if you wore something a bit better than a pillowcase.” He spoke   

Dobby furrowed his eyebrows as he thought “Yous can be giving clothes as long as yous be saying that you is only lending clothes, freeing an elfses is done on purpose, normallys that is. Bad Malfoy be terrible master, Dobby be taking the chance to end the bond when Master Harry be giving it” he said with a smile before considering once again. Harry could see the idea pop into his head when he looked up eyes bright and said “Master Harry coulds be telling dobby to get a uniform or be allowing dobbys to be making his own clothes” He squeaked with a smile.   

“Alright then Dobby, you have permission to get both a uniform you think will fit the House of Potter, and to make your own clothes” Harry said putting on a pretend formal voice and a big grin, “oh, you can also take whatever money I have in my money purse, and make sure to take your pay for this month, remember that’s two whole galleons, I won't have you short changing yourself” Harry said before fighting a yawn that crept up on him.   

“Dobby be taking care of it Master Harry, yous be going to bed now” the elf spoke before clicking his fingers and disappearing with a crack.   

Harry took a moment before crawling out of bed to the bathroom to begin his nightly routine, no matter that the sun had only just set. When he returned to the dorm room, he saw his roommates were back and beginning to pack for themselves. Ron noticed his return and that he was ready for bed “You okay mate? You're looking a bit peaky” he asked concerned, as Neville also paused, worry creasing his brow.  

 “Yeah, just feeling really tired, I’m going to turn in early tonight” Harry replied.   

“Are you certain, I could go with you to Madam Pomfrey if you need to” Neville asked concern lacing his voice.   

“I’m sure, just the year catching up to me, I think. That and not looking forward to going back” he said waving the two off, missing the agitated glances between Ron and Neville as he walked over to his bed. He took a moment to pop open the lid of his trunk, noticing the frayed edges and worn leather of the sides, but despite the outward appearances of the trunk he saw all his belonging neatly folded and packed away in a tidy fashion, Dobbys work naturally, Harrys own packing style was considerably more slapdash; better than Ron’s though, which was more of a mound configuration.   

As Harry closed the trunk securing the lock, Ron surreptitiously walked over trying to act casual. Before leaning in and whispering.  

“If those muggles give you trouble again this year mate, write as soon as you can. We’ll come and get you as soon as possible. I remember what me, Fred and George had to do to get you out last year.” he said seriously, a surprisingly dark expression colouring his features.  

“Mum was serious when she said she’d never be able to pay you back. Even dad signed that letter, and he closed it with the Weasley House seal too. We’d do a lot more than just flying a car in the middle of the night this time.” he continued, before patting Harry on the back. Harry smiled and nodded, completely unsure on how to respond to his normally chronically unserious friend acting serious.  

“Thanks Ron, it means a lot, but I get the feeling that this year is going to be a lot easier. I’m going to have help this time” he said mischievously with a small grin, while Ron looked a little confused.  

“Dobby, he’s all healed up, and back to full strength. If he could close the platform and jinx bludgers to chase me, imagine what he could do to the Dursleys if I let him loose” he said laughing. Ron broke out of his serious mode and began laughing too. Sitting on the bed as the others packed up jokes bouncing back and forth the dorm filling with laughter, after 15 minutes he felt the tiredness and exhaustion creeping up again.   

“G’nite I'm going to turn in” he called out to the others, the others called out their own goodnights while Dean replied “Alright, we’ll try and keep it down, good night”   

“Nah, no need, I learnt a couple of silencing spells for the curtains” He said, “I need them to put up with Ron’s snoring”. Seamus burst into laughter when Ron responded by lobbing a pillow at Harry and soundly missed Harry but nailing Dean, Harry dove for the curtains and pulled them shut.   

Whispering a silencing spell and setting a nifty alarm spell Hermione had found “Tempori Succentivus 7:30 ante meridiem” before tapping his pillow and nestling himself deep within the covers, He had briefly considered meditating but quickly decided against it, and swiftly drifted off to sleep, already dreaming of the next September when he’d get to come home. 

Chapter Text

Harry had tossed and turned a little that night, him missing out on a night of meditation seemed to allow enough room for his nightmares to return on the edges of his half-forgotten dreams, skewing them from pleasant to disconcerting. Like a mirror seen in dim light that seems un-nerving. Harry extinguished the alarm spell on his pillow and felt his muscles twinge as if they’d been overused, he sat up pushing the soft covers away. He still felt worn after whatever it was that had happened last night.   

Pulling back the curtains, the silencing spell failed, and he could hear Ron’s rumbling snores. Stretching and feeling his muscles rebel against the move he winced before pushing through and gazing fondly around the room. He noticed that some of his clothes had been lain out on top of his trunk, “Wait, whose clothes are those?” he thought to himself before picking them up and taking a closer look. They were muggle, but they were sized to fit him it seemed, and they definitely weren’t new either. Dobby, Harry concluded. Dobby must have adjusted some of Dudley's old hand me downs, so they didn’t seem quite so bad. Pulling them on and putting away his sleep wear, he heard the metal rings of bed curtains being drawn open and saw Neville bleary eyed clambering out of his own four poster bed.   

“Morning Nev” harry said quietly. Getting a “mmph” in return as the boy began his own morning rituals.   

The morning moved far too quickly for Harry's own taste, but not fast enough for the other students it seemed. Students dashed back and forth trying to locate missing items or running to say goodbye to friends. Before long Harry, Hermione, Neville and Ron stood at the Hogsmeade station waiting for the scarlet clad engine to arrive at the station before they could begin the long trip to London.   

The Hogwarts Express soon pulled into the bustling Hogsmeade station, marking the official beginning of summer break. The platform nestled against the picturesque backdrop of the village, was a scene of barely controlled chaos as students darted to and fro. The dark, weathered stones of the platform that had been worn smooth over time, the imprint of countless feet that had tread upon them. Overhead an enchanted canopy had been set and it fluttered softly, allowing enough light to dapple the ground but keeping the heat of the summer morning from reaching the crowd.   

Vibrant Banners in the house colours of, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin hung suspended from mid-air and swayed gently in the breeze. The station platform buzzed with activity. Students lugged their trunks and belongings. Laughter and chatter filled the air as friends greeted each other. A few tears could be seen being shed by the graduates, their career at Hogwarts now over, ready and prepared for the wide wixen world. Their house colours now gone from their robes; the trim that had marked their house replaced with a shining gold that marked them as graduates.  

The air was scented with a combination of steam, the earthy aroma of the village and the tantalising smell of Honeydukes sweet shop. A few vendors had set up stalls on the platform, selling last minute treats, travel necessities and the occasional souvenir. The calls of the vendors blended in with the excited voices of the students creating a contagiously happy atmosphere.   

The Hogwarts express stood grand and majestic, its red and black exterior gleaming under the cloth dappled sunlight. Steam hissed and billowed from the engine, adding to the sense of excitement for those ready to head home for a relaxing summer. The doors swung open, and students began to board dragging their trunks aboard. Something Harry didn’t have to worry about, as Dobby had kindly offered to shrink the trunk for him to make carrying it much easier.   

The quartet, navigated through the throngs of students, Harry’s unruly black hair gleaming in the sunlight, adjusting his glasses as he glanced around. Beside him, Ron scratched his flaming red hair as he exchanged grins with his friends, freckled face lit with excitement for a few months of unchecked relaxation.   

Hermione, her bushy brown hair, now neatly pulled back but straining against the tie. Checked the time with a quick tempus charm, her eagerness to head home shone in her eyes, even as the prospect of a summer away from the best library she’d ever seen was reluctantly accepted. Neville, with a timid smile, pushed a trolley with his toad filled trunk, excited at the promise his Gran had written him to go immediately to Olivander's from the station to finally get a wand that fully matched him, his father's wand had been wrapped carefully in cloth and carefully stowed away in his trunk.   

They reached the entrance to a cabin to the rear of the train, and boarded, the compartments cozy and inviting, with wood panelled walls adorned with faded posters and memories of previous journeys. Choosing a compartment at the back the four settled into the plush seats, Ron using his already showing lankyness to help the others to lift their trunks into the nets above the seats before Hermione got fed up with struggling and came to her senses and levitated the trunks.   

As the train began to pull away from the platform, Ron pulled out a deck of exploding snap and roped Harry and Neville into a game, Hermione already resting in the seat next to harry leaning into the window with a book, but only half-heartedly, as she winced and laughed with the rest when Ron lost an eyebrow to a potent explosion and began to curse Fred and George.   

Outside the compartment window, the lush landscape of the Scottish Highlands passed by an endless tapestry of rolling green hills and winding rivers. The rhythmic clatter of the train on the tracks providing a soothing backdrop to their conversation. In between laughter and friendly banter, they discussed their summer plans, potential visits to the Burrow; Neville inviting them all to visit Long Hall and meet ups in Diagon alley. Harry however, had started to grow quieter and began to prepare himself fully to be reunited with his “family”. The others picked up on this and began to give him space and support in their own ways. Ron plied Harry with sweets and jokes. Neville kept checking him with glances and making sure he had anything he needed at his fingertips. Hermione kept asking him questions about what he was most looking forward to about their new classes next year, trying to get him to focus that soon, they would all be back on the train and heading for a whole new year at Hogwarts. She was a constant presence by his side, touching his arm, and leaning in as if making sure he knew she was still there.   

But far too soon, the lush green of Scottland became England, and quicker still did the countryside, begin to be peppered with more and more houses roads until they were deep in the heart of the City of London and swiftly pulling under the iron awnings of Kings Cross Station Platform 9 ¾.   

Steam billowed across the station as the echoing voices of students excitedly and happily reunited with their families. The occasional crack of disapperation whisking students to their homes. Harry disembarked on to the crowded platform, meandering through the crowds of people filling the space. Harry saw Ron take off directly to a brace of shockingly red hair that stood out from the crowd like a lighthouse in a storm.   

Walking over, he was immediately pulled into a crushing hug by the Weasley matriarch.   

“Oh Harry, I promised I wouldn’t go too overboard, but thank you” Mrs Weasley whispered once she released him smiling at him like he’d hung the moon. Harry saw standing next to her, with a meek smile and barely able to meet his eyes, the young girl whom he’d half carried from the Chamber of Secrets.  

She was still pale, deathly so in fact, and shadows still lingered deep within her eyes that had already seen too much. But there was defiance in there too, her burnished copper irises still clinging to a spark of light deep inside.  

“It's good to see you Ginny” Harry said warmly, drawing some pink into the pale skin of the tired girl who began to stare intently at her shoes. He chatted with Ron as Mrs Weasley tried to corral the remainder of her brood. Harry felt a tap on his shoulder and saw Neville standing behind him with him was a fiercely stern looking witch, wearing old fashioned style robes and a hat with... was that a stuffed vulture? She was appraising him with a look that rivalled Professor McGonagall.  

“Well met, Mr. Potter” she said with a glint in her eyes, Neville caught Harry's sight and rolled his eyes before nodding to Harry. Ahh she was testing him Harry thought.   

“Well met, Dowager Longbottom” Harry responded, laying his right hand and the base of his neck and placing the left on top palm facing his body, before lowering his chin and bowing his head. This was one of the old greetings, from one equal to another. This was, as Neville would have put it, a power play. At least Harry hoped he hadn’t mucked up his greetings and given the one from a higher to a lower status. He was already pushing it, technically he wasn’t Dowager Longbottom’s social equal, not even close since he didn’t even have his heir ring yet, let alone have the station of a Dowager. But Harry wasn’t happy with Madame Longbottom, this was his way of showing it.    

When he lifted his head, he saw Neville’s eyes wide, and Madam Longbottom looking at him as if she’d found something surprisingly interesting.  

“Indeed Mr. Potter. Neville has informed me that he has been ensuring that you are aware of your position, I see now that he was not incorrect.” she said coolly A ghost of a smile on her face now.   

“I offer my thanks, in your part played to rectify a grievous error made on my part, an error I am firmly intent on fixing this very day. Say your goodbyes Neville, we have an appointment to keep with Mr Olivander” she said imperiously but with a touch of warmth before marching off to one of the floo’s built into the side of the platform. Neville excitedly said farewells before dashing off to rejoin his grandmother.   

The Weasley’s soon made their own exits not without another hug from Mrs Weasley for both Harry and Hermione and plentiful offers to come visit the Burrow at any time made to both as she chivvied her sons towards the floo with Fred being caught by the ear when he tried to dash off again.   

He and Hermione made their way towards the portal that led back to the muggle Kings Cross, but out of the corner of his eye he saw that he was being stared at by a tall man dressed in an impeccable dark, almost black, jewel green wizarding suit, carrying a cane and had long blonde hair. He was standing with who Harry assumed was his wife, also a blonde, who was carrying herself with an air of superiority even as she doted on her son Draco. The glare perturbed Harry, the last time that he’d seen Malfoy Senior, the man had attempted to curse him, he smirked back at Lucius, and he suddenly felt incredibly petty.   

Making a big production of slowing down, much to Hermione’s bemusement, he pulled out the shrunken trunk from his pocket and tapped it with his wand enlarging it. He met Lucius Malfoys glare before speaking quite loudly.  

“Dobby, if you would be so kind as take possession of my trunk for a while” There was a sharp crack as the elf materialised. “Of course, Young Master Harry Sirs, Dobby bes delighted” as the elf shrunk the trunk once more and disapperated. The look on Malfoy’s face was thunderous, half torn between storming off in a huff and sending a curse. This had drawn the attention of the other Malfoy’s the wife who was glancing surreptitiously between Harry and her husband. Draco meanwhile had seen the whole affair and was now doing an excellent imitation of a fish. Harry linked his arm with Hermione's who saw the whole thing and quickly figured out what he was doing and was attempting, but failing, to prevent herself from giggling at the pettiness. Just as the two stepped towards the barrier, they heard the shrill voice of Draco “Father, why in Merlin’s name does potter have OUR HOUSE ELF” before he could turn his attention back to Harry, they stepped through, there was no way that the high and mighty Draco Malfoy would ever deign to step into the muggle world.   

As the two appeared on the other side, the chatter of students was replaced with the hustle and bustle of a busy train station, people in business suits dashing to make a connecting train, tourists with a map in one hand and a dictionary in the other, and the acrid smell of diesel and pollution assaulted Harry’s senses.   

“Hermione dear” came a sweet, accented voice to their left. Hermione still hooked onto Harry’s arm dragged him across “Hello, mam” she said her voice changing ever so slightly. She detached from Harry as she practically jumped into her mother's arms. A tall genial looking man in smart but casual clothes stood next to them smiling warmly before looking at Harry, the warmth didn’t even falter as he took a step and raised his hand to shake “Hello there young man, Now by Mione’s letters you must be Harry” Harry grasped the outstretched hand and was rewarded by a firm handshake “Thats right sir” Harry replied,   

“None of that sir nonsense lad, call me Richard, with the amount you feature in my daughters letters I'd say I feel like I already know you” he said with a confident wry smile as if he knew more than he was letting on.  

“Hiya, I’m Catrin” the woman who’d just stopped hugging Hermione said, with a beaming smile. Seeing both Hermione's parents he could tell that while she took after her mother in looks, she had the same pale skin tone, but her eyes were the same burnt umber of her fathers, He didn’t have the chance to talk further, before he was interrupted by the sharp bellow of “BOY”, “Enough lollygagging, I want to head home, I’ve wasted enough of my day already. Move or I'll leave without you” and there was the shoe dropping on an otherwise pleasant day.   

Turning to face the wrath of Vernon Durley, Harry was distinctly unsurprised to see that the man had not changed at all, save for an extra inch at the waistline. Cheeks already turning an unpleasant purple hue behind the ridiculous Mustache he insisted on attempted on wearing. The unpleasant man turned and began to walk towards the entrance. Harry sighed as he turned back to face the Grangers, the adults were exchanging concerned glances. Hermione met his eyes, a look of worry on her face as she dashed forward and pulled him into a deep hug. Breaking apart a moment later harry felt a scrap of parchment being pushed into his hand “Just in case” Hermione whispered as Harry turned around to try and catch up to his uncle.   

Harry sank into the backseat of Vernon’s car, the leather upholstery cool against his skin, the car was a new model, sleek and polished, not that he bothered to tell the difference anymore. Just another of the latest model that Vernon insisted that he had to have every few years to match his obsession with appearances and status. He’d still be ordered to wash the damn thing all the same. Harry was surprised to see his cousin Dudley sitting in the other back seat, he’d practically tried to avoid Harry like the plague ever since Hagrid had given him a pigtail. It was a nice change from the bully, that had hounded Harry for most of his young life.  

But something was different about Dudley now. Harry’s eyes widened in genuine surprise as he took in the transformation. Dudley had lost a significant amount of weight since the last time Harry had seen him, which must have been over 10 months ago by now. He was still large, but the change was drastic and was undeniable. The Dudley who’d once resembled a miniature walrus was now closer to a healthy side.   

As Vernon maneuvered himself behind the wheel, adjusting the car seat with a grunt to accommodate his robust frame. Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away from Dudley. The awkward silence in the car was punctuated by Dudley giving him a very unexpected nod in Harry’s direction. Harry’s eyebrows shot up in confusion. What was going on? Dudley had practically treated him as an invisible presence since Harry had gotten his Hogwarts letter, and now he was acknowledging him?  

Harry’s inner thoughts raced; his mind filled with questions. Was Dudley sick? Had something happened to prompt this change in attitude? What by Merlin’s saggy ball sack was going on.  

Beside him, Dudley’s gaze remained fixed out of the window, giving nothing away. Harry had the urge to ask, to find out what was behind this transformation, but he wasn’t sure if he should breach the silence. He stole a cautious glance at Dudley’s profile, trying to decipher the emotions hidden behind the distant look in his cousin’s eyes.   

Vernon’s grumblings broke the tension momentarily, complaining about traffic and the inconveniences of the road. But Harry’s attention was still focused on Dudley. The car ride felt vaguely surreal, as if the world had tipped on an angle and now unknown things were changing.   

Before long, Harry started to see familiar landmarks of Surrey and Little Whinging before turning into the cookie cutter neighbourhood of privet drive with their perfect lines of flowers, and carefully manicured lawns with pristine paintjobs on the faces of identical houses. He let out a quiet sigh, He already missed the chaoticness of the magic world. Were bright colours and strange old architecture and random bizarre odds and ends popped up in the unlikeliest of places.   

Vernon hauled himself out of the car first, grabbing a carboard box full of something that Harry couldn’t see that must have been on the passenger seat in the front. Harry quickly hopped out Dudley a short while behind. His cousin was still perplexing Harry. He hadn’t even spoken on the hour long drive out of the city. Just given him strange unreadable looks when he thought Harry wasn’t paying attention. Vernon pushed the front door open and strutted inside calling out “Petunia dear, I’m back, got those fuses and replacement bulbs before picking the boy up.” He called his tone flat  

“Excellent thank you popkin” She simpered before her face turned hard as see saw Harry appear from behind the girth of her husband.   

“You know the rules, trunk in the cupboard, I won’t have any of your freakish things lying around my house” Her tone piercing and laced with unkindness. Dudley had made his way inside and had taken a seat in one of the armchairs and was watching everything quite carefully.   

“I left my stuff with my friends this year aunt Petunia” he said trying to stay polite. “I thought it would cause less hassle, if you didn’t have to worry about anyone finding my stuff” He lied quickly, Dobby would be bringing his stuff, including Hedwigs cage as soon as he reached the 2 nd bedroom.   

“Humph” Petunia intoned disbelieving. “For your sake you’d better be telling the truth, if I find one bit of unnaturalness in this house belonging to you, I'll be burning it” she said, eyeing him viciously. Vernon might have been the more violent of his tormentors growing up, but Petunia without a doubt was the crueller, Vernon hated Harry, Harry had no doubts about that, but Vernon hated anything that wasn’t what he saw as normal. But Petunia absolutely despised him.   

“Yes, Aunt Petunia” Harry said trying his hardest to keep his tone neutral, as he let his gaze wander around the sterile downstairs of number 4. His eyes fell on Dudley again who was still watching everything going on, and again something was different. The old Dudley would have had a look of glee as he watched his mother tear into Harry. But not this time, Harry struggled to try and place the look on his face, was that dislike? Harry’s mind ripped a little when he attempted to try and link the two concepts of Dudley his tormentor and bully being disapproving of Harry being treated bad. Harry’s mind recoiled at the notion.   

“May I go upstairs, Aunt Petunia” Harry asked quietly.   

“No, you can start putting some work in if you expect to be allowed to eat this summer” she said harshly   

“All the blubs in the house and some of the fuses burnt out at the same time last night” she said accusatorially as if he had anything to do with it. She reached out and lifted the box that Vernon had carried in earlier and placed it in Harry’s arms “You’ll find replacement bulbs, and fuses in there, fix them” she said pointing a boney finger at an empty light socket    

“I’ll do the plugs mum” Dudley spoke for the first time.   

Petunia looked surprised before rushing over, petting his hair, “No need, Dudders, you’ve had a long tiring year at school, you sit there and mummy will get you a nice snack, that school has been neglecting you, you look unhealthy” she said in a simpering tone.   

To Harry’s surprise Dudley replied “I’m not hungry mum, and Harry’s probably never changed a fuse before, or been taught how to do it, we covered it in physics this year. I don’t want him to mess it up” Dudley looked at Harry as he said that last bit in an echo of his old cruel tone, but Harry could tell, there was no real heat in it. Dudley was right, Harry had absolutely no idea how to change a plug fuse, not that Harry was going to say that.   

Dudley did indeed help Harry out, bewildering harry further, was this a set up to a long prank, was Dudley trying to get Harry to lower his guard before striking. No that couldn’t be it could it?   

Then there was the matter of the burst bulbs all over the house. It took him the better part of an hour, and a couple of cuts to his fingers from the broken glass still stuck in the fittings before finally getting through them all. There must have been 30 broken bulbs in total; Petunia had immediately gone to blaming him, which was probably by habit at this point. But after some very quiet and careful questioning as to what happened, Petunia with a pointed stare had told him that just after sunset the previous night, there was a bright surge of all the lights turning on before exploding in a shower of broken glass and filament.   

They’d had called an electrician out immediately, but he could not find any fault in their wires.  it was the timing stuck that out to Harry; he reckoned it was around about the same time he’d felt that strange rush of energy last night. Dobby had said that it was as if he’d finally let go of a spell that he’d been holding. Could that be related? He didn’t know how to check though that was the issue. It’s not that he could cast any detection spells, well it’s not as if he even knew any detection spells for that matter.   

Once the lightbulbs had finally all been replaced to Petunia’s exacting standards, though how there could be standards for lightbulbs Harry had no idea, He was finally allowed to go upstairs. To the room he was supposed to call his own and be thankful for.  

He heard his aunt fussing over Dudley again, she seemed quite distraught at the changes in her son. Vernon and Petunia had surprised Dudley by saying that they’d made reservations for some semi-posh restaurant in town, but Dudley had sent Petunia into a worrying frenzy by saying that he didn’t feel up to going out that night, and he just wanted to rest after a long year.  

Naturally this caused Aunt Petunia to begin fussing and worrying, saying that her baby boy must be feeling ill and practically began harassing Vernon to get the car to take him to the Hospital. Dudley managed to calm his mother down though, by reassuring her that he didn’t feel sick or unwell, he just wanted a relaxing night in. But that since they made the reservations surely his Mum and Dad should still go, after all wasn’t it one of Aunt Petunia’s favourite restaurants. Harry sniggered quietly from his hiding spot at the top of the stairs as he listened in, another change in his cousin Harry noted. He was lying to his parents, manipulating them. Yet another unexpected change in his cousin. Harry heard something about Dudley being given money to order himself some pizza before the front door clicked shut.   

There was the scent of dust that clung to the air as harry opened the three locks on the outside of the door to his room and pushing the door open. The room was just as dark and dingy as he remembered, the mattress haphazardly placed on the floor amidst the clutter and detritus of thrown away or broken toys, or in the case of the books that forlornly stood on meagre shelving that had been just ignored by Dudley. It was cool in the room, the window still cracked open, Harry wondered if that was from his escape last summer and if the window had been open the entire year.   

Taking a seat on the old uncomfortable mattress there was a small pop, and the form of Dobby materialised into existence. The little elf looking around the room with distaste on his features. “Master Harry’s sirs, yous is here.” Dobby exclaimed excitedly before producing Harry’s trunk, and Hedwigs cage. Hedwig wasn’t here yet; he’d told her to take her time and fly back to Privet Drive. She could fly, there was no need to cage her just to ride the train, when she was perfectly capable of making her way back on her own.   

Dobby started poking around the room with a mixture of curiosity and disgust at the small room Harry could tell was well below his standards.  

“Master Harry, cans Dobby be cleanings this room up a littles” the elf said hopefully. Harry was frankly already fed up with the Dursleys, his aunt and uncle at least, he wasn’t sure on Dudley yet, the changes were interesting. Typically, he would have done anything to stay well under their gaze and not upset them at all. But he was feeling rebellious.   

“Sure, thing Dobby,” He grinned “Actually is there any way that we could get some light in here?” He asked, as the was room currently being lit by the sodium glare of the streetlight outside that was casting an eerie yellow glow over everything, barely illuminating the room. Naturally his aunt and uncle hadn’t seen fit to buy an extra bulb for the second bedroom.   

Harry saw dobby think for a moment his expressions shifting as he pondered the request, before he started to click his fingers, and mutter under his breath. The room began to swirl, occasionally a broken toy would wink out of existence or dust, dirt and detritus was pulled out of the gaps between the bare wooden floorboards. Harry could feel the busted bedsprings of the mattress underneath him warp and mend themselves. It was as if Dobby’s efforts were not only clearing away the physical debris but also erasing the oppressive energy that had clung to the place.   

After Dobby’s flurry of magical activity, the room had undergone a remarkable transformation. The dingy and cluttered space was reborn into something remarkably different. The air in general felt lighter, and a soft, warm glow suffused the room, four softly glowing orbs were hovering in the corners of the room, chasing away the glare of the streetlamp, now a gentle warm and bright radiance illuminating the space.   

The floorboards, once covered in a layer of dust and grime, now gleamed with a polished finish, reflecting the soft light in a warm, inviting manner. The broken toys that littered the room vanished now leaving empty bookcases and plenty of open space now that the floor was unobstructed.   

The old mattress, once a lumpy and uncomfortable surface, seemed to have undergone a miraculous makeover. The bedsprings, which had creaked and groaned under the weight of years, were now silent and supportive. The mattress itself felt plumper, more comfortable, and inviting as if it had been charmed to provide a restful night’s sleep.    

Harry took in the transformed room; he felt a surge of gratitude to the small elf who’d done all this. Dobby stood in the corner, a mix of pride and eagerness on his face awaiting Harry’s reaction.   

“Dobby..” Harry spoke momentarily speechless, “This is amazing, it’s almost a room I want to stay in now, you’ve done an amazing job” he said beaming at the now bashful elf   

“If yous taps the door frame twice Master Harry’s, the lights will be turned on and off, Dobbys also added protections to the doorway, means relatives not be able to get in unless yous be wanting them too for some reason” The elf said, practically dancing from the praise Harry had given him.   

Harry’s thoughts turned to somehow getting something to eat since the last time he ate anything was on the train and his aunt and uncle certainty wouldn’t be bringing anything back from the fancy restaurant. Harry was about to mention to Dobby to see if the elf had any ideas when there was a soft knock on the door. Dobby immediately popped away with a quiet crack, while Harry slowly and gingerly walked towards the door, before stopping, his hand on the handle thoughts racing through his head. “Vernon and Petunia surely aren’t back yet, Dudley?” Harry thought but Dudley had never knocked before but then again maybe it was another change. Opening the door, a little Harry even though he’d thought it through and concluded that it could only be Dudley was still surprised to see him standing there, in the bright light of the landing.   

“Umm, hi harry, I’m going to order some food. But I didn’t know what you would like” Dudley asked quietly barely able to meet Harry’s eyes.  

He was holding a couple of menus and a cordless phone in his hands.  Harry stared at his cousin confused for a moment taken back by this turn of events. Was Dudley genuinely trying to be nice to him, now after all these years? Harry’s first instinct was to get angry, to yell, that after the years of torment he’d suddenly decided to be nice. But he swallowed it, dismissing it down the river in his mind, He really did owe a lot to that book, it was a shame that the duplication charm on it had failed. There had to be a reason for Dudley’s change, in both his weight and his overall demeanour and attitude, and damn if it didn’t make Harry curious.   

Deciding to see where this could go, he admitted to himself, he’d wanted to be friends with his cousin when he was younger, before he Dudley had learned from his parents that Harry was less than, that he was a freak, and freaks didn’t disserve friends or nice things, or to not go to sleep bruised and hungry because things happened that he couldn’t even understand them, let alone think that he’d done them. Harry cut off that train of thought cold, he would get angry if he continued thinking about that, those memories only had power if he let them have power. Taking a deep breath, he invited Dudley inside his room.   

The blond boy looked around the room, in surprise when he crossed the threshold, spotting the glowing orbs in the corners and that his old things had disappeared his eyes went wide, and glanced at Harry. Harry wondered if his cousin was about to freak out and braced for an explosion. For him to immediately go running to his parents and get Harry in a world of trouble for doing magic in their house.    

Harry was shocked to see that Dudley actually seemed fascinated by the golden floating orbs, walking over to them, and seemed about to reach out and touch them before turning back to Harry and speaking, “I won’t, like, turn into anything if I touch them will I” he said tenuously.   

Harry, with a sneered before saying “Touch them and find out” with a little bite to his voice. Before watching Dudley do exactly that, he hesitantly reached out his fingers brushing the surface of the floating orb and saw the little golden orb bounce a little suspended in the air. What really surprised Harry was the look of awe on his cousin's face.   

Okay this was getting ridiculous harry thought and blurted out before he could stop himself, “Dudley, what the hell happened to you” he braced himself for the snap, after all it’d never gone well when he’d been rude to Dudley before. But he was rewarded with a wan smile from Dudley who shrugged his shoulders.   

“I had a wakeup call this year at school. Mum and Dad don’t know, but I've been seeing a councillor for some stuff. He helped me realise a couple things. Mum and Dad are horrible to you.” Harry’s eyes were wide in shock, but he barely managed to stop his jaw from dropping open when Dudley finished his little speech.  

“I’ve not been any better, fuck, if anything I've been worse with some of the shit, I did to you. You don’t have to accept it, but I’m so sorry harry, for what I did, and you never deserved anything that my parents did to you, that I... I did to you. If I could go back and change it, I would” Dudley genuinely seemed to get choked up at the end his voice nearly lagging with emotion.   

Chapter Text

 “You didn’t deserve it”  

The transformation of Dudley’s attitude and behaviour was so shocking to hurry that he found himself standing there, mouth agape, unable to process the magnitude of what he was hearing. This was the last thing that he’d expected, especially after the years of mistreatment and disdain. His shock quickly turned to disbelief, and he felt that he couldn’t trust his ears, let alone the content of what he’d heard.   

Dudley’s explanation hung in the air like a cloud of miasma, leaving Harry momentarily speechless. The notion that Dudley had been seeing a counsellor, was already pushing it. He’d heard Vernon bellowing about ridiculous new age quackery, and how a real man didn’t need to about such namby pamby things. But to hear Dudley had needed a counsellor and had come to realise that the way that he and his parents had been treating Harry was wrong, sounded so hard for him to believe. His eyes remained fixed on his cousin, watching the shift in his face, and the genuine emotions play out across Dudley’s face as he confessed to his past mistakes, the regret, the embarrassment and the look of absolute shame that cracked the shell of Harrys disbelief.  

Dudley continued talking. Repeating his apologies as if a dam had broken. Harry felt a wave of conflicting emotions surge within him- confusion, disbelief, astonishment, and a small very cautious glimmer of hope. He struggled to find words to respond to Dudley, He must have been right, something massive must have happened to cause this sort of changed with Dudley. This was not the Dudley he’d known for years Harry dared to hope; this was someone different, someone who had taken a long, hard look at himself and his actions, and found he didn’t like them.   

After a moment, Harry managed to regain his voice, his words almost a whisper “Dudley, I... I don’t know what to say. I never, ever, thought I'd hear this from you. It’s... It’s really hard to believe.” His eyes locked onto Dudley's, eyes searching for any sign of deception, or insincerity and he didn’t find any, just genuine vulnerability, and the weight of remorse”   

It was as if the universe had shifted on its axis, leaving harry grappling with a twist of fate. He slumped down on to the bed, before looking up at his cousin standing just inside the doorway.  

“What happed Dudley?” Harry asked. There was a story behind this, a person didn’t just wake up in the morning and decide on a whim that they were going to become an entirely different person, there is a reason, something that triggered this sort of change.   

Harry saw a dark look shoot across Dudley’s face as he looked down at the floor. “That’s a bit of story, and not a very nice one either” Dudley voice was hoarse with emotion. But Harry wanted to know, needed to know if there was any chance that he could ever trust this new version of his cousin, he had to be certain that this wasn’t a trick.    

Harry was about to ask Dudley to sit down when his stomach gave a loud rumble. Oh, that’s right, Harry remembered that the offer of food was what had started this whole mess. Dudley supressed a small grin before waving the takeout menus before passing them over to Harry, “what do you fancy?” he asked, his attempt to lighten the mood evident.   

Harry’s initial tension eased slightly, cut by the normalcy of the offer, even if it was from someone who had never offered such a basic question before. He took a moment to flick through the menus, thoughts every now and then returning to his astonishment at this unexpected chain of events. Then, with a faint smile he selected, “I could go for some pizza, what do you think?”. Pizza was normally a big thing in the Dursley household rarely ordered, and when they did, Harry never got any.   

Dudley’s grin widened for a moment.   

“Yeah, I could go for pizza, what do you reckon, a medium each or a large with some sides? He asked leaning in to look at the choices   

Harry still feeling caught flat footed mumbled out “lets... lets go with two mediums, I... I don’t know what’s good on a pizza” he said quietly. He saw Dudley’s eyes flash with a little shame before he pushed it away with enthusiasm.   

“Pepperoni is a classic, though you can’t really go wrong with a plain cheese” He offered trying to help.   

“I’ll try a pepperoni then” Harry replied, a little stilted, still off balance with the whole cousin is now trying to be really nice to him thing.   

After they finalised their order, Dudley had insisted on adding a few sides to share and a bottle of pop, He had walked over to the window to phone the takeaway and place the order. Harry slumped down on to the bed, feeling the tension seep from his shoulders as he sat on the mattress, there had to be enchantments in this thing now, it was far too comfy to be just muggle anymore.  

Reaching into his pockets to warm his hands, he found a scrap of parchment. That’s right Hermione had palmed it to him earlier that day, with the whisper of “Just in case”. Unfurling it he saw the recognisable neat handwriting of his best friend; she’d written down her home phone number and home address, it confused harry a little, sure the phone number could be useful, but the address? Hedwig didn’t need an address to find her, pondering a little longer it clicked combined with the “Just in case”, It was if he needed to get away from the Dursleys for some reason. His heart practically ached in gratitude to his friend, that she would go that far to offer him a place to run too if he needed.  

The bed shifted as Dudley sat down carefully at the end. “Foods ordered, they said it should take about 20 minutes” he said evenly, “Mum and Dad said they wouldn’t be back until after 11, so there's no rush” Dudley added before idly looking around the room, an awkward silence filling the room once again. Dudley was the braver of the two it seems as he was the one to try and break it   

“I thought you couldn’t use magic outside of school? Didn't you get in trouble for that last year?” he asked curiously motioning to the room.   

“Ahh, yeah, it wasn’t me,” Harry replied “to both, though it was the same person who levitated the pudding last year who fixed the room up” he said with amusement now that he thought about it   

“Yeah?” Dudley responded looking around as if another wizard was about to step out of the shadow pointy hat and all.  

“Yup, my house elf, Dobby. Though last year he didn’t belong to me, I suppose I kind of stole him a few weeks ago. The whole thing with the pudding was his own way, his method trying to protect me last year.” harry said with a matter-of-fact tone.   

“Elves are real? Like a Tolkien kind of elf? and one works for you” Dudley spluttered looking at Harry like he was mad.  

“No no” Harry laughed not that kind of elf, “think more 3ft tall magical beings, that love to help out around the house and take care of wizards”   

“Ohh more like a Brownie then” Dudley spoke surprising Harry   

“Since when do you know what a brownie is beyond a cake, and since when have you read any Tolkien” Harry asked incredulously, it was a night of being surprised by Dudley it seemed.  

“There’s a pretty good section in the Smelting's library on mythology, I started reading a few books in my first year. And my roommate practically foisted the Lord of the Rings at the beginning of the year.” He said with a smile, though Harry swore that the same dark shadow flittered across his eyes when he mentioned the roommate.   

“You have rooms at Smelting's I thought it was a day school?” Harry asked having never really paid attention to Dudley’s school before, though he was certain that Vernon had never known there was a Mythology section of his alma mater’s library; at the very least he’d certainly never paid attention to it.  

“It is a day school for firsties” He said matter of factly “but in second year it’s a week school, we only come home on the weekends, but you can opt in to stay longer blocks. And next year is a monthly school I’ll be coming home for weekends once a month, from the year after that we’ll only come home for the holidays. To be honest I'm looking forward to it.” he said a little darkly   

“Why?” harry asked genuinely interested now, before he’d pictured Dudley as the shining example as a mother's boy  

“Like I said, I woke up this year. I don’t want to be like Mum and Dad, I don’t want to be like Jason’s da...” he choked.  

Harry asked cautiously and tentatively “I asked before, but what happened? People don’t change the way you have not without something big happening to them.”   

Dudley paused for a moment before taking a shuddering breath “It’s a long story but I'll tell you if you want” Harry nodded meeting his cousin’s eyes and seeing them almost swimming in tears. Dudley needed to get this off his chest harry thought. Whatever had caused him to change was gnawing at him, caused him to speak to a counsellor, which probably wasn’t enough.   

Dudley took a deep shuddering breath and started talking.   

“At the beginning of the year like I said, I was given a room, and a roommate for the weekly stays. His name is Jason, was Jason.” with a tone of finality, laced with sadness and pain. Harry noticed the use of past tense and his chest tightened.  

“He was short and skinny, and had a mop of black hair, reminded me a lot of you. We did not get on at first, He was bookish and smart and quiet. Basically, the exact opposite of me.” He said with a surprising fondness   

“Like I said we didn’t get on, not at first. But then after I'd said something mean one night. Well, I said a lot of mean things that first couple of weeks. But he’d never gotten angry before. He'd just give me shit right back and carry on reading the bloody Lord of the Rings. But then I said something about his mum, I didn’t know she was gone see. And he got angry, like scary angry. And he beat the utter shit out of me” he said with a wan laugh.  

“Then he wandered back over to his bed, leaving me with a busted lip on the floor. He chucked me a towel and told me to clean up. Then he just sat down on his bed and just said If you made me lose my page, then I'll get really mad... and I just lost it. I started laughing my ass off on the floor bleeding. Then the next thing I know he was laughing and we were making such a racket that the dorm warden came down and put us both in detention for a week for disturbing curfew.” he started laughing, but it was the kind of laugh you hear at a funeral, the laughing at a memory bitter with loss, and It tore at Harry’s heart.   

“We were friends after that, somehow, funny how that happens isn’t it.” he asked    

“Yeah, one of my best friends only became my friend after I saved her from a troll” Harry replied with a smile. Dudley stopped shocked “Trolls are real too?” concern coating his words “Oh yeah, and those things are just like what Tolkien wrote about” harry added seriously.  

Dudley went a little pale before adding “I think I want that story when I'm done with mine”   

“Where was I, oh yeah, we became friends. I stopped hanging out with Piers so much, he liked to rag on Jason too much, in fact he made the same mistake I did and insulted his Mum, and he knew she was gone too. I didn’t step in to stop Jason busting his nose, so he doesn’t like me so much anymore” Dudley didn’t seem to cut up about it. Harry though, was glad, Piers Polkiss was one of the more brutal of Dudley’s old gang, always trying to push the gang into a new level of violence. He’d even brought a knife on one of the old days of Harry hunting. That was the day Harry had ended on the roof of the school.   

“Jason encouraged me to do a bit better in school, you know actually work at learning instead of skiving off or trying to steal homework from someone. Got me to start eating better too, after I asked him that is. He came up with the idea of tying a band around my wrist whenever I felt like pigging out, bingeing I think he called it. I snap the band whenever I feel like snacking outside of meals” Dudley motioned to a black rubber band that he had looped around his wrist.   

“He got me to go to the school dietitian too. Not looking forward when I show dad that I don’t want to eat fried food every day and night” he said rolling his eyes. Before getting a serious look   

“But he never seemed to look forward to the weekend. He tried to hide it, but I saw how relieved he was every time he came back on Monday mornings. Always said he looked forward to next year when he’d get to stay longer, though he tried to shift the blame by saying he hated the constant travelling and said would rather be in one place for a bit longer.” Dudley said softly   

“Then soon enough Christmas was here, and school was closing until the new year. When we came back, he was a bit different, he had this stare and he’d just zone out. Wouldn’t change outside of the bathroom, and always wore long sleeves even during gym.” Harry knew those signs; he’d used those same ways to hide his bruises during first year.    

“He tried to hide it, but I caught him changing by accident on a Monday after we’d come back from home. His back was awful, black and blue, and I think I saw lash marks” the boy shuddered, tears beginning to form in his blue eyes again. “He stopped me from going to a teacher, said he’d get in trouble again if his dad found out. So, I didn’t. Fuck I wish I had though, I wish more than anything that I had” Dudley drew a halting breath now on the edge of sobbing, tears trailing down his cheeks.   

“It was close to the easter break, one of the long ones. I didn’t learn till after, but his father was going to pull him from the school at the end of the year, and was pushing to homeschool him. Then on the Friday before the easter break I’d headed back to our room, and that’s when I found him” the finality and sadness in Dudley's voice was devastating.  

Harry’s suspicion that this might have all been some cruel prank was long gone, he felt sick to his stomach for even considering that now that he’d learned the truth. But Dudley still had more to say.   

“Yeah, I found him” Dudley’s voice shuddered growing horse. “I screamed; then the rest is a bit of a blur to be honest. The police asking questions. And the next thing I really remember is I'm back here, and Mum and Dad aren’t acting any different” His tone turned angry, not the tantrum anger he’d remembered but cold fury.   

“Mum is nattering on and on about the fucking Womens club like I give a shit, Dad is promising a tour around that stupid dead factory he works in and pretends that it makes him a CEO or some bollocks; and to make it even fucking worse, mum starts saying how she doesn’t want me to go to the funeral. As if Jason wasn’t my best fucking friend. Someone who gave a shit and tried to make me a better person, not just another cruel bully, Like dad, like mum, like fucking Piers who had the gall to make a fucking joke about it when he saw me in the corridor” Dudley’s anger was cataclysmic now, a roiling mass of pain as he marched up and down the small bedroom.  

Harry thought that if Dudley was a wizard, magic would be pouring from him in black waterfalls. Then something odd happed, as Harry felt a faint buzzing as Dudley slowly began to calm down, Harry recognised a few of the techniques he’d learned from Harmony Within, Dudley was counting his breathing, eyes closed and trying to calm himself down. Harry turned his thoughts inward, focusing on that strange buzzing sensation, it felt like a very weak tingle of magic, it wasn’t coming from himself, nor did it feel like elf magic. No could it be? There was no way, Dudley wasn’t a wizard, but then again Harry’s mum proved that there was certainly some magical blood in the Evans family line. Harry put the thought away to consider later, this was not the time. Dudley was hurting, raw with the loss of what Harry could tell was an amazing friend.   

Dudley took a while to calm down. Harry stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder, guiding him back to sit down on the bed, Dudley's breath levelling out slowly with the occasional hitch and shuddering breath.  

“It was Halloween, you said you wanted the story about the troll” Harry said softly. Dudley stilled next to him on the bed caught off guard by Harry’s voice puncturing the silence that had settled on the two of them.  

“I’ve never really liked Halloween, but I've never known why. Before I found out I was a wizard, I thought it was because everyone else got to dress up and get sweets and have fun while I was left in my cupboard” Harry took a moment and breathed in deeply.  

“But even back then I always just felt sad on Halloween, like I'd lost something. Turns out I had” he practically whispered. Dudley sat up and turned to face Harry properly.  

“Halloween was the night my parents were murdered.” Dudley drew a sharp breath at the frank tone in Harry’s voice  

“So, there I was, an eleven-year-old, that had found out about magic maybe three months prior. Sitting in the Great Hall at school in the middle of the Halloween celebratory feast. Everyone else was having a great time, but I felt torn though. My life had never been better, I was learning magic! I had a warm bed of my own and I could eat anytime I wanted. But it was the first time that I realised, why I don’t like Halloween. That I'd always known somewhere deep down, that it was because it was the day, I watched my parents die.” Harry shook his head as if shaking off the bad memories inside it.  

“Where was I? Oh yes, the Great Hall during Halloween, so I was eating, while trying and failing to enjoy the evening, when in runs the Defence against the Dark arts teacher, Quirrell” Harry grimaced as he thought about the man knowing what Quirrell had done, would do and what would become of him.  

“He bursts into the hall shouting about a Troll in the dungeon, and then get this. He faints. Well, he faked fainting, so he could then sneak out and try and steal something from the school” but Harry wasn’t going to get into the whole mess with Quirrell and the stone, they’d be there for hours if he tried. Looking over at Dudley he saw that the boy was leaning forward and listening to every word he said.  

“So dumbledore. Thats the headmaster, he quiets everyone down and orders everyone back to their dorms and for the teachers to go and hunt for the troll. But I remembered that Hermione wasn’t with us at the feast, one of the girls had said earlier that she’d been in the bathroom all afternoon crying.” Dudley quirked his eyebrows as if questioning why.  

“My first friend, Ron” Harry grimaced remembering back to when the two couldn’t stand each other. “He... he found it hard to deal with Hermione; she’s incredibly smart, and talented with magic. But she has a tendency to be a bit much when you don’t know her, and she was a little bit of a know it all at the beginning of school. He'd said some pretty nasty things about her after a charms class, and she overheard.” he frowned.  

“As everyone was leaving the Hall, back to our dorms, I realised that Hermione didn’t know about the troll. She was in danger. My idea was to run off and quickly grab her and head to the dorms. But Ron refused to come with me, told me to go ahead while he ran the other way. It pissed me off at first it drove a bit of a rift between us for a while, him not backing me up. But after Hermione prodded me into asking why he didn’t just go with me I found out that he’d left to go get his big brother.” Harry grinned sheepishly.  

“But I went charging off to the second-floor girls' bathroom where Hermione had hidden all afternoon, but as I got close, I saw this great big thing lumber across the hallway and go in a room. I chased after it and locked the door behind it. I started to continue and make my way to the bathroom, when i realised that the door I'd just locked was the girl's bathroom, then the screams started.” Dudley looked horrified  

“I ran inside to try and get Hermione out, but she was curled up in a corner underneath a sink and there was this massive, must have been 12ft tall troll, carrying a tree trunk as a club; and it was swinging it wildly. I tried to distract it by yelling and throwing things at it, but that just made it mad. It grabbed me and was holding me up by one of my legs and i think it was about to hit me with its club, when the professors arrived, McGonagall and Flitwick. One of them pulled us to them in a flash while the other sent the troll flying into a wall. It was terrifying, but amazing to watch, they killed the troll seconds later.” Harry said lost in the memory.  

“So that was my first brush with death in the magical world” Harry scoffed “But it's how I really met my best friend. Ron is still my friend though, and one of my best friends, but it took me a bit to get over him not coming with me to get Hermione, probably would have taken longer if I didn’t realise that I'd probably be dead if he hadn’t gone to his brother who in turn got the Professors. But Hermione after that was closer, and i don’t know why but she’s always been in my corner.” He said as he smiled softly.  

Harry heard the doorbell chime out downstairs and excused himself to answer it. Both of them undoubtedly needing a moment to pull themselves together.  

After paying and giving the change to the delivery driver for as a tip, which the driver seemed very pleased at. Not that harry really knew how much the food was supposed to cost but he assumed that £30 seemed like it would leave a good tip. Wizarding money had skewed his sense of how much muggle things were worth, and his aunt and uncle had never trusted him with money anyway.  

With his arms now laden with several boxes, he made his way back upstairs and pushed open the door to his room.   

Dudley seemed to have calmed down a bit more and was now staring at a box of tissues on the windowsill as if they’d come out of nowhere.  

“Harry, w-where did those come from” he said pointing at the tissues, wait box of tissues? ah, they probably did appear out of nowhere then  

“Don’t worry, that would just have been Dobby, like I said, houselves love to take care of people.” he said with a smirk.  

“Oh, right, what did you say his name was? Dobby, right? Thanks Dobby” Dudley said staring around the room as if the creature would appear. Before grabbing a few tissues and blowing his nose.  

Harry divided up the boxes, and carefully lifted the lid of his own. A tantalising wave of aroma wafted towards him, the scent was warm and alluring, the freshly baked dough, melted cheese and savoury notes of pepperoni indulged is senses. Grabbing a still piping hot slice he tucked in, trying pizza for first time there was an explosion of deliciousness in his mouth. Warm chewy crust, mixed in with the tanginess of the sauce and a creamy cheese, the smokiness and the bold slightly spicy pepperoni was a burst of flavour in his mouth. Harry quickly finished the slice and went back for another, spotting a satisfied look and a small grin on Dudley’s face. “What” Harry asked, “I had no idea pizza was this good” he said a little indignantly.   

“So, Trolls are real, and you’ve already nearly been killed by one” Dudley stated a little gobsmacked after they’d both eaten a few slices.  

“I’m not going to lie, even when that big hairy bloke kicked down the door that bloody lighthouse, we got dragged to a few years ago and gave me a pig's tail. I’ve been dying to ask questions; I was just too scared of what Mum and Dad would say if I said I was interested in learning more. It’s straight out of my games and fantasy books. Like are dragons, dwarves, goblins and halflings real as well?” he asked   

Harry chuckled putting down the crust of his second slice and reaching for a third  

“Yes, to dragons, goblins, and dwarves, but no on halflings I think, though Flitwick might be one? Though I've heard it said that he’s part goblin, I don’t know if anyone’s been brave enough to ask, he might just be really short.” Harry mused  

“Dragons are real, but rare and there are a couple of reserves around the world, one of my friend's brother works at one in Romania.” Dudley's eyes shone with interest as harry continued  

“Goblins are definitely real, they run the entire British Wixen banking system, probably a few others too. Which reminds me I really need to try and get to the bank at some point” Harry said trying to think of a way to get there.  

Dudley looked at Harry quizzically “Why’s that? Everything alright?” Dudley asked in a cautiously endearing tone that Harry would never have thought would’ve come out of his cousin's mouth let alone be directed at him.   

“Mmmhp” Harry grunted burning his mouth on melted cheese as he took a big bite.  

“Found some information out from a friend at the end of the year. Turns out the Potter family are kind of a big deal in the magical world and the goblins will be able to confirm it for me, and hopefully tell me a bit more, or at least where to find out more.” Harry answered between fanning his mouth trying to cool his burnt tongue.  

Conversation petered out for a small while as they both tucked into their impromptu feasts, but once the food was cleared away courtesy of dobby, they carried on talking, mostly Dudley asking questions about Harry’s new life, what the castle was like; about his friends, classes and Hogwarts.  

At one point Harry opened his trunk and dug out his photo album to show his cousin, who after getting over the shock of learning that magical photos moved happily sat down as Harry told stories about the people in them. They both lingered on the photo of Lilly and James dancing at the fountain, a short sadness permeating the air as Harry spoke of what little he knew about them. There weren’t many photos of Harry and his friends in the album, it mostly was a memory book of photos donated by old friends of his parents, maybe he should expand it or start another one if he could get a camera this year Harry thought.   

“I’ve got an idea Harry” Dudley asked after the photobook had been put away “to get you to that bank of yours, it's in London, right?” Harry nodded intrigued by his cousin's statement.   

“Well, I could lie and say that I'm meeting with some school friends in London soon. Normally Mum and Dad would insist on driving me, but, if I throw a small pretend tantrum like I used too; about how I want to go on my own on the train I might be able to swing it. I also might be able to pull you into it make it seem like my usual old bullying ways, some bullshit like making you carry my bags or something. It might get us both out of the house and get the train fare paid for the both of us.”   

Harry sat back down on the bed, and re-appraised Dudley momentarily, it was a smart plan, sneaky too, almost Slytherin esq Harry had to admit.   

“Okay, we’ll try it, if that doesn’t work, I may have a few other ways to try. But what are you going to do in London while I'm in the Alley?” Harry responded   

“I dunno to be honest,” Dudley stated before thinking briefly.  

“Could I come with you” he asked quietly   

Harry could see the curiosity and a little bit of... was that hope? “I... I think so, I've seen non-magical's in Diagon before, Hermione’s parents usually shop with her to get her supplies” Harry thought about it a bit more.  

“Why not, we can at least try” Harry said, still surprised at the level of interest that his cousin had at learning more about the magical world. Petunia and Vernon would probably have a stroke if they ever found out about it, which only gave harry more motivation to give it ago.     

The two had a brief discussion of the plan, how Dudley and Harry could act to try and seal the deal with Vernon and Petunia. But before long Harry heard the slamming of a car door, damn it his aunt and uncle were back. Dudley quickly scarpered back to his own room bidding a hasty good night to Harry before leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.   

When the door to his room clicked shut, the bright glow of the mage lights seemed to dull bringing the room down to a comfortable level.  

Harry sank back against the now comfortable mattress and stared at the celling, thoughts racing through his head. He didn’t know what to think, did he fully forgive Dudley after all this time, after everything his cousin did? I mean he’d practically made Harry’s life a nightmare before he’d gone to Hogwarts.  

But he’d enjoyed telling his cousin about Hogwarts, about his friends, about some of the weird and wonderful things the Wixen world. The request to come with him to the bank and thus to Diagon alley was unexpected to say the least, but the more Harry thought about it the more he kind of wanted to bring his cousin there. After what must have been half an hour Harry knew that he had to meditate on this, He needed to calm his mind down and think about this properly. He had just started to think that this was all some elaborate Dursley plot to try and seize his Gringotts account and other strange conspiracy's.   

Breathing calmly, he sat cross-legged on his bed and cupped one hand in the other resting on his core. He began to breath in measured and counted breaths, feeling his mind begin to recede and reflect on the day's events.  

The foremost matter, the change in Dudley. Harry recognised his feelings of paranoia, suspicion and fear at his old tormentor, and tried to reconcile them against the stark image of a much smaller Dudley, tears streaming down his face as he described opening the door to find his roommate and friend. No, Dudley had changed Harry was certain.  

There was a chapter in Harmony, that talked a lot about grief. It was a powerful emotion, and a dangerous one for Wixen, it could easily mess with a Wixen’s core magic, making it unpredictable, powerful yes, but very unpredictable. It also talked about the massive motive for change a loss of someone close can be once the grief has begun to settle.   

There was also the small part of him that was ecstatic that Dudley was now being friendly with him. It was a secret that Harry had told only the petrified form of Hermione one lonely night. He’d always wanted to be Dudley's friend when he was younger, his younger self had thought that if Dudley was his friend, then maybe his aunt and uncle would like him more; that he wouldn’t feel so lonely all the time. It was an old part of him, something that had died when he was no more than 6 or 7 years old, but it was stirring once again now.   

Harry concluded then, he would welcome this new Dudley, but if any sign of the old one was to start to emerge, he would push him away. He was done being bullied, but his cousin had suffered severely as well, the death of a friend like that. He’d felt that dread pool in his stomach when McGonagall had pulled him aside to tell him about Hermione, and that was knowing she would eventually be alright.  

That strange pulse of magic he’d felt in the room also confounded harry a little, He was fairly sure that it’d come from Dudley, but Dudley was not a fully powered Wix, he was pretty sure of that. Dudley would have gotten a Hogwarts letter if that was the case, but could he be a squib? Maybe the Goblins would be able to confirm it.   

Harry felt a great deal better after sorting through his feelings on this mess and turned to his nightly practice of feeling his own magic just underneath his skin, it was closer than ever tonight. He barely needed to search for it, it rose to meet him nearly automatically. Moving it around his body was easier than ever too. Harry wondered, could he do it without meditating at some point?   

A lightning bolt of an idea hit him at that point, his eyes flew open, the mage lights had been extinguished, and in the darkness of the smallest bedroom of Number 4 Privet Drive the voice of Harry Potter could be heard speaking in the faintest of whispers to himself.  

“Is this how you do wandless magic?”  

His eyes cast around the room and he spotted his wand laying on the small, battered desk in the corner, raising his hand he reached for that feeling underneath his skin and it leapt to his command, eager to be used almost playful. Pooling it in his hand he focused on the wand laying on the desk and bade it come to him.  

The wand twitched and flew off the desk.  

Chapter Text

The holly wood wand leapt from the table and flew straight his hand. Faint melodious notes of ghostly phoenix song echoing through Harry’s mind, yet there was still odd and slightly dissonant note within, a harmony unanswered, a counter point with no refrain.  

Harry leapt from the bed in excitement, practically jumping around the room. Whispering to himself that he’d just done wandless magic utterly ecstatic that he’d just performed one of the feats that so many of the books he’d read was a mark of an extremely powerful wix.  

He’d just done wandless magic; his train of thought and silent celebration came to a screeching halt. He rethought that sentence again. He’d just done wandless magic, in other words he’d just done magic, at home, in a muggle area, during the holidays.  

“Fuck”   

To say that Harry didn’t get much sleep that night would be putting it lightly. He spent it primarily pacing back and forth in his tiny room, staring out the window awaiting the inevitable owl from the ministry that would explain how much trouble he was in. It was not long before sunrise that he collapsed on his bed exhausted. The tiredness finally overcoming the anxiety he was feeling.   

Harry woke to the sound of a beak on the window. He closed his eyes tighter, maybe if he ignored it, it’ll go away harry thought to himself. The sound of urgent tapping on the window repeated itself, damn it, he thought as he opened his eyes. It was easily late morning, and there was a very irate looking snowy owl perched on the windowsill glaring at him.   

“Hedwig! oh I’m sorry girl” he cried as he ran over to the window. The beautiful bird taking flight for him to have room to open the window. Harry threw the window wide open, and his first friend soared through the window landing gently on his arm. Hedwig fixed him with a baleful amber glare for locking her out.  

“I am so sorry girl, I thought you might have been a ministry owl trying to deliver me another warning notice” She whacked him gently on the head with a soft bump of her wing and gave a soft hoot that sounded indignant.  

“Yes girl, your right, how on earth could I ever mistake you for a ministry owl” Harry replied placatingly.  

“Have a nice flight from Hogwarts Hedwig?” Harry asked, his owl now softly nibbling his ear. In an answer harry heard an agreeing hoot her temper subsiding.  

“That's good girl, did you manage to hunt on your way down? Or do you want some food, it’ll have to be owl treats though?” Hedwig had always been a very communicative owl, and Harry could easily read her moods and gestures to the point where they could practically communicate, she was incredibly smart even for an owl. She hooted and barked quietly a few times before taking off and landing on top of the wardrobe near the door. Harry knew that that meant she’d eaten and would very much like to sleep after a long flight.   

Harry sat back down on the bed and took in the morning light. It was the first full day of the summer holidays and he already missed Hogwarts terribly. It was a grey morning, that seemed to threaten rain if Harry could read the dark heavy and grey clouds off in the distance.  

It wasn’t warm but not cold either, Harry thought as he leant on the windowsill gazing out on the boxy plain neighbourhood, feeling a mild breeze on his cheeks. The dusty repaired alarm clock on the bedside table showed the time to be nearly 11am, he’d slept in then, damn that might complicate things. Those wards dobby put up must have worked if Petunia hadn’t managed to batter down the door to force him to fix breakfast for the family. He really wanted to keep away from them as much as possible this year, with luck and with dobby’s help he could.   

But more importantly, there was no letter from the ministry, that was a very welcome surprise and a big relief. Does that mean wandless magic was untraceable by the ministry? Should he test it again and risk a ministry summons? The last time he’d gotten the warning, after Dobby’s trick with the pudding, the letter had arrived almost immediately.  

He decided to risk it. Like the brash Gryffindor he was. He needed to know if he could practice this new power. It could be a major advantage, one that he’d keep close to his chest just in case he lost his wand in a dangerous situation, like when Tom had stolen his in the chamber. Though maybe he would try and train Hermione, Neville and Ron too, Hermione though would do it for the challenge alone.    

Harry reached out and inwards at the same time focusing on a dictionary that had been abandoned on the bookshelves for years. Reaching for that familiar pulse deep within him, he called it and once again it surged to meet him, Harry felt a small burst of energy pulse in his hands and the book flew across the room and smacked hard into his hand. Harry waited with bated breath scanning the skyline outside his window for any sign of a ministry owl, just in case this spell was more powerful than summoning his wand did last night and would trigger the alert.  

But no owl came. Harry sat on his bed back against the cool painted plaster wall with a smile. This is something that he could use. He’d have to start trying to see what this type of magic was capable of doing, could it be used actual spells? Or was it restricted to more basic forms of magic, pulling and pushing objects and the like?  

Damn he wished that he could talk to Hermione about this, she’d have a hundred tests that she’d want to run to find out what wandless magic could do. But it would have to wait, he didn’t want to risk this in a letter, Harry had found out the previous summer that letters could be stolen.   

---------------  

It was nearly 12pm, and Harry was desperately trying to put off going downstairs. He really didn’t want to face his Aunt and Uncle but the longer he put it off the worse their response would be but that only made him want to avoid them even more. But how did he want to do this? He’d have to be Slytherin about it, Harry felt a little off even thinking about it, but the sorting Hat had wanted him in Slytherin for a reason, he could do this.   

Quietly he descended the stairs, hoping not to be ambushed by Vernon or Petunia on them with no escape. If he had to, he’d run back to the room. With Dobby’s reinforcements they’d never be able to cross the threshold, and if it looked like it was about to turn violent, and he couldn’t escape. Then he’d try to scare them with a bit of wandless magic. He was done being bullied, and he would never again let them place their hands, fists, belts or anything on him ever again.   

As he reached the ground floor, there was an eerie stillness to the house around him. It was unsettlingly quiet, as if the walls were holding their breath, waiting for something to happen. Harry was hyper-aware of every sound as he moved through the hallway.   

The living room appeared deserted as he cautiously peered inside. It was an unfamiliar sight; he’d rarely witnessed the house without the Dursley's before. The absence of their oppressive gazes and harsh words were a fleeting taste of peace. A tantalizing look at what it would be like if he could leave them forever, though he’d definitely have different decorating tastes.  

He made his way to the sterile kitchen that Petunia liked to think was her domain, an idea that Harry found laughable, He’d probably made more meals in this kitchen than she’d done. She was probably incensed that she’d lost her kitchen house elf when Harry had gone away to school.  Looking around at the myriad of appliances and shiny counter tops he spied a note pinned to the refrigerator with a magnet, in the neat and cursive form of his aunt.   

Boy  

I expect you to have this list of chores done by the time Vernon, Dudley and I return this afternoon. You will have hell to pay if they are not.   

Looking down at the laundry list of chores that his aunt had attached, which incidentally did include doing the laundry, along with pruning the roses, mowing the lawn, cleaning the windows, vacuuming the floor, polishing the silver and so much more.  

Harry felt incensed, she was trying to catch him out again. It was one of her old tricks, give him an impossible task and then punishing him for not being able to do it. She was probably irritated she couldn’t drag him out of bead at an early hour to fix them breakfast and was trying to make him fail so she could punish him. He sighed and made his way to his old room under the stairs to dig out the vacuum cleaner. He was struggling to pull it free of the multitude of other useless things that Petunia must have insisted on needing for the home when Dobby popped into existence next to him.  

“Master Harry sirs, what be you doings ?” Dobby asked while looking up and down at harry appraisingly   

“Oh, hello Dobby, Petunia left me a list of chores to do, trying to make me slip up so she can punish me, nice to see she hasn’t changed a bit” Harry replied irritation lacing his voice.  

“Oh no Master Harry’s sir yous not be doing that, yous be taking a seat and relaxing, Dobbys be seeing that yous not sleeps well last night” Dobby said with shock, and began to chivvy Harry over to the sofa, and with surprising strength pushed him down on it.   

“Dobby, there's no need...” Harry started to say before being cut off  

“No Master Harry sir, there be very littles work for Dobby to be doing, so dobby be doing this”   

“But...”  

“Sides, is not the aunt the nasty mean muggle whos treats master badly because hes be a powerful wizard?”  

“Well yes, but...”  

“Thens would it not be a good pranksies if Dobby was to clean all the nice, lovely muggles things with magic withouts them knowing” Dobby said with a note of finality and surprisingly grim determination that set Harry laughing.    

“Alright then Dobby” Harry managed to get out between laughing as he kept imagining the Petunia’s face if she ever found out. Dobby began to whirl through the house, dusting and cleaning like a maniac.  

Harry sat deeper into the couch and threw his feet up wriggling his dirty socks into the fabric, watching Dobby do his thing with such gusto. He’d been a little on the fence about actually making dobby do work but seeing the look of elation on Dobby’s face now, there was no denying that he was obviously enjoying himself. Leaving dobby to it he lounged comfortably on the sofa and decided to have a nap since he felt tired from barely sleeping the night before.  

He’d always wanted to lounge down here, never been allowed obviously. But even on the rare occasion he’d been left alone he’d always been kept busy by the chores to even think of it.   

-------------  

He was roused a few hours later by a nearly frantic Dobby, “Master Harry sirs, the meanies be backs sir, they be entering the front in the metal box” He said urgently tugging at one of Harry’s sleeves, Harry woke with a start and jumped off the sofa, Dobby with a few clicks of his fingers immediately smoothed the sofa off and replaced the cushions he’d displaced while napping.   

“There bes a chicken casserole in the ovens Master, it be outs in 10 minutes, and Dobby be getting food from Hogwarts for Masters own dinner laters” Dobby spoke hurriedly giving a warm smile to Harry as he disappeared   

Harry soon heard the sounds of car doors shutting and the jingle of keys in the lock as the door was pushed open, breathing deeply he braced for the impact of his relatives  

“BOY, you’d better have food on” Vernon bellowed from the hallway  

“Yes, Uncle Vernon” Harry answered in his trained meek tone that they’d come to expect.   

His uncle burst in through the door looking about the room as if he was expecting a mess and found Harry standing there in the centre of the spotless living room, not making eye contact.   

“Help your aunt with the bags” He spat at Harry   

Harry, not wanting to fight, simply obeyed and quickly made his way outside to help with the numerous bags loaded into the boot of the car. Oh, of course, the Dursleys did this last year as well. The day after Harry had come home, they’d gone off on a shopping spree at one of the nearby outlets and spent a great deal of money. Probably trying to rub it in that he had nothing Harry venomously thought in his head while hauling several bags of what looked to be pricey clothes from some high-end brand, upstairs to his aunt and uncle's bedroom. His aunt gave him a piercing look the entire time.  

“Boy” she intoned in the shrill voice he’d become well accustomed to over the years, every syllable a threat or bile.  

“The list of chores is done, Aunt Petunia” He responded keeping his meek demeanour   

“What on earth is have you done with our room” she spoke sharply   

“I haven’t been in your room, Aunt” he answered honestly.  

“The room in which you sleep, you ignorant boy”   

“I have taken measures to ensure my safety aunt” Harry spoke evenly raising his eyes to meet hers and seeing revulsion in them at the barest mention of magic.  

“I have a deal for you Aunt Petunia” Harry continued  

“A deal? What is this nonsense freak” she spat contempt dripping from each utterance.  

“On days that you and Uncle Vernon leave, I will complete any chore you wish of me, and have a hot meal waiting for you when you return. But only on the days on which you leave. Every other day, I will remain in my room undisturbed, I won't cook breakfast, lunch or dinner, but I will not eat your food either, nor will I disturb you save to use the bathroom as I need.” Harry spoke the words that he’d intended to tell them earlier in the day before he’d discovered that they’d all gone out.   

“What is this nonsense, you stupid boy, you will do as you are told, or you can forget about going back to that freak school of yours. Are you doing your freakishness in my home? I will get you expelled; I know you're not allowed to use magic outside of that school” she practically cursed at him.  

“I will not” Harry replied his voice turning a little cold “I will remain in my room undisturbed, and you will leave me alone” Harry had an idea then and spied a photograph of Petunia and Vernon at their wedding standing with what seemed to be petunia’s family.  

He was just going to show off a little and walk out but he noticed something in the photo, a shock of red hair standing next to Petunia, hair he recognised from his own photo album, and it made him furious.  

“You had a photo of my mother this entire time, and you never even thought to show me” he said icily fixing her with the same glare he’d given Tom back in the chamber. He reached out with his hand and called the photo frame into his hand his eyes never leaving his aunt’s, whose own eyes went wide with shock and a little fear, and a little triumph. Oh, Harry thought, did she think this would be enough to get him expelled. He grinned a little.    

“Oh, don’t worry Aunt Petunia” Harry said pushing a little sarcasm into his voice  

“This doesn’t count” He mocked, wriggling his fingers “You can wait for the owl if you want, but you’ll be waiting a while.” he said evenly letting the threat speak for itself. Petunia’s shock and triumphant look morph into shock and horror as grasped that her nephew, not that she’d ever called him that, could use his freakishness in her lovely home.   

“The casserole is due out of the oven in five minutes Aunt Petunia, I hope you enjoy it” Harry said as he made his way out of their room and quickly into his own.   

--------  

Closing the door behind him he realised he was breathing heavily. He didn’t realise how scared he would feel, no he told himself he wouldn’t be scared of them anymore. But none the less standing up to her had taken it out of him. He felt rattled, but good; but none the less happy to be safe in his room. He wandered over to his trunk and rummaged around for a book that could hold his interest, discovering a small household charm compendium he’d manage to pick up the year before, he decided to experiment and see if the spells would work without the wand.   

It was a challenge for certain, he didn’t know how to translate the wand movements to doing so without a wand, it took him an hour before he came to the conclusion that perhaps he needed to know the spell well enough with a wand that he’d be able to do so without it, at least that was his current working theory. Perhaps a spell that didn’t require a wand movement? Thinking for a moment he leaned back against the bed frame that Dobby had brought from somewhere during the day much to his surprise.  

It was better than the mattress on the floor, even if the mattress had been made super comfortable by Dobby’s magic. Dobby had already come and gone with a meal he said was from the Hogwarts kitchen which Harry didn’t challenge. The food was a delicious, a roast beef dinner, with potatoes and roasted vegetables, with Harry’s favourite treacle tart as a dessert.   

Harry decided to try the Tempus spell, a spell that summoned a spectral clock face in your palm, or at the tip of your wand. It was a very simple first year spell, that was usually one of the first taught outside of class in passing simply due to its usefulness. Being able to cast it without a wand would be useful thought to himself. The only wand motion was a simple jab to the hand and saying the spell phrase. Harry had seen the upper years practicing non-verbal magic, and he certainly didn’t need to say anything when he performed his wandless magic, so what was different?  

Drawing on the wellspring of magic within him he drew it to his hand and intoned the spell “Tempus” ... nothing. He tried again and again several more times with no luck. He was missing something here, some concept that he wasn’t applying. He didn’t think that intent was the problem, intent had never really been a problem for Harry at least not with spell work.  

So, what was he missing, perhaps he should go even more basic. The Lumos spell, a simple light spell, the first charm ever taught by Professor Flitwick. Pooling magic in his hand he spoke the words, but nothing, again. This was getting irritating. Then there was a knock on the quiet knock on the door.   

“Come in Dudley” he murmured, He was certain that it could only be his cousin, there’s no one else in the house he’d ever consider letting inside the wards on the door, nor any that would even try to knock.  

Dudley quickly made his way inside, quietly shutting the door behind him before flashing Harry a quick smile and sitting down in the chair by the desk.  

“Did you say something to Mum?” he asked quietly with a small smile, Harry quirked an eyebrow in answer.   

“She’s been out of sorts all evening, and what’s this about you staying in your room? They're not going to try and put locks on the door again, are they?” he said a little anger colouring his voice.  

“Oh, no don’t worry, I think I scared her a little with something I found out last night. Oh, and I told her I'd not be doing any chores while her and Vernon are in the house.” he said with a smirk, Dudley looked a little confused.   

Harry then closed the charms book he had on his lap, before carefully pooling his magic in his hand, focusing on the lid of his trunk as he tried to levitate it open. It took a great deal more concentration than he expected, and way more focus than simply calling an object to him he found, but he managed it. Feeling a little drained, which was new, maybe more complex action used more magic. As a flourish he chucked the book inside, before nudging his magic to tip the lid closed. Dudley looked shocked, surprised and a little scared, which worried Harry a little before Dudley spoke.  

“Won’t you get in trouble with the wizard government?” he said in hushed tones  

Harry felt relief flood his body, as for a moment he thought that Dudley was suddenly terrified of magic again.  

“No, I think it’s a different type of magic, one that the Ministry can't trace. Though the trace might be on my wand now that I think about it” Harry said watching the small trace of fear disappear from his cousin's face replaced with the same curiosity he’d seen the previous night when he’d asked about all sorts of things about the wizarding world.  

“Can you show me more?” he asked glee and interest lighting up his face.  

“I can't do much with it now, I only sort of accidently figured it out last night, I've been doing meditation every night and I realised if I could move it about underneath my skin, I might be able to cast with it. So, I impulsively called my wand to me last night without thinking and then spent the night awake staring out the window for the Ministry warning to come.” He spoke with a sheepish look on his face.   

Dudley laughed quietly “Ahh, so that’s why Mum looked so put out making breakfast this morning, I thought It was because I said I didn’t want a full breakfast and just a bit of toast, it was because she couldn’t wake you up” he chuckled.  

“She couldn’t even reach the door to bang on it” Harry replied, beginning to laugh himself.   

“Really?”   

“Yeah, Dobby put some protections on it, if anyone comes to the door with malicious intent, they can't touch it” Harry said   

“No wonder she was in a mood” Dudley said looking a little conflicted.  

“What's bothering you” Harry decided to chance it and see what’s bothering his cousin.   

Dudley looked pensive for a moment before speaking “It’s just this whole situation, I really really don’t like how they treat you. Shit I don’t much like how they treat me anymore and its nothing compared to you, but still...”  

“They’re still your Mum and Dad” finished. Harry could sort of understand if not empathise, Dudley's foundations were being shaken.  

“Yeah, I don’t know what to do” Dudley said sadly looking a bit lost  

“I don’t know what to say if I'm being honest Dudley, they’ve never treated me well. But I'll try not to rag on them in front of you too much. And I'm not even sure if I hate them, I just can’t wait to be able to leave. I’m counting the days until September, when I'll be allowed to go home. Back to the world I belong in, my mum and dad’s world” he said solemnly.  

“I don’t blame you, I really don’t, not anymore. Not since Jason, not since speaking with Dr Crenshaw at school. I'm going to have a lot to talk with her about when I get back.” He said darkly.   

Shaking his head as if to try and get rid of the thoughts clouding him, he snapped the black band on his wrist. “Enough of the maudlin stuff for now” Dudley spoke trying to push some brightness into his voice and thoughts.  

“Maudlin? where’d you pick that one up Dudley” Harry said with a lightly teasing tone.   

“Oh, shush Potter” he countered, a genuine smile beginning to form on his lips  

“I do read a bit you know, speaking of, I managed to drag my parents into bookshop today. Dad looked at me like I'd grown a second head. But I picked up a few things, he lifted plastic bag full of books Harry hadn’t seen him bring inside and started to pull a few things out. A few things caught his eye.  

“Manga Mania? What's a manga?” Harry asked looking at a white hardbound book with a picture of a large lizard with the title Godzilla printed on it in bright green lettering.  

“I dunno, there was a line for them though, I think they’re Japanese comics. Dad threw a faff about foreign stuff again, but, if I argued that if he lets me get the Spiderman comics that come from America then what's wrong with Japanese stuff.” Dudley shrugged before continuing “From the little I managed to read of it there's a bunch of different comics or manga in one book, it's different that's for sure, seems a bit more serious. I want to see If I can find more of that Akira comic that’s in there, the art style is amazing”  

Harry flipped the book open a few pages in, and Dudley wasn’t kidding, the comics that Dudley had thrown away when he was young, and Harry had pulled from the bin afterwards before hiding them in his cupboard were nothing like this. But what surprised him is when his cousin reached into the bag and pulled out a thick hardback book and passed it to him “Here I got this for you” he said with a smile, “I’ve still got Jasons copy, so don’t worry”  

Harry looked down at the book, a pale grey hardback with a black binding, the gold lettering embossed on the front read The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R Tolkien.  

Harry felt as if he’d been hit in the gut, with a painful twinge in his chest, “Thank you Dudley” he truly meant it too, thinking back to last Christmas after he’d asked Hermione why she always gave books particularly fiction books as presents. She’d launched into a long heartfelt speech about how she was well known as a bit of a bookworm. She truly did love the stories that could be found in them, and giving fiction books as presents were her way of trying to share that. She’d given him a collection of C.S Lewis stories that year, and after that explanation he’d felt bad about only sending her sugar free sweets.   

“Oh, I managed to get things set up for Monday by the way, to try and get to London. Tomorrow wouldn’t have worked out. Dad’s off work and he’d insist on driving us into London. But on Monday, he’s away on some business trip and mum has some Womens Club to function to attend, so we’ll be free and clear” Dudley said after he’d finished showing off his new books.   

“Nice one Dudley, did you manage to get them to agree to me going along as well?” Harry asked   

“It took a bit, but yeah. They agreed to let you come with me as a bag boy I think Dad put it.” he said with a grimace.  

“If we leave early, we should be able to get to London easily, take the bus into Woking, then the train into London, then the underground to wherever is closest to enter your world, where is that by the way?”   

“Charing Cross Road, we’ll get a map when we get to the underground” Harry replied   

“I’m a little excited for this” Dudley said quietly, Harry responded with a smile.  

The two stayed up chatting for a little while longer before Dudley excused himself, Harry found himself a little lost with what to do, he didn’t feel like tackling his homework yet. He relaxed into bed and pulled one of the mage lights close diming it slightly before cracking open the book his cousin had given him  

When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton.  

There was a small pop and a mug of hot cocoa appeared on the small rickety stool he used as a bedside table and smiled, Harry felt comfortable in Privet Drive for the first time in his life.  

Chapter Text

It was early on the following Monday, just before 9 ‘o’ clock. Harry and Dudley had just left Number 4 Privet Drive and the morning was a cool one for the time of year. A blanket of grey cloud stretched in every direction across the sky muting the light of the morning to a dull sheen. It wasn’t raining though, like it had been the past few days, the fine mist like rain had fortunately stopped the previous evening.  

The two made their way through the familiar sights of Little Whinging, still as it ever was, a picture of normalcy. Harry was a little irritated by the length of time it would take for them to reach Diagon. At least two hours by Harry’s reckoning if he’d read the various bus and train tables correctly. And even then, that didn't include the time it would take to get back. All this travel would cut into his time in Diagon alley, and Harry had no idea if it would be enough. Since Petunia had wanted Dudley back by 5 ‘o’clock that evening, it would only leave them with around four hours.  

He wished that he could floo or fly to London, but naturally both were completely out of the question. But as he walked, he remembered one of the days he, Neville and Hermione had spent in the library in the last few weeks of term. Both he and Hermione had taken turns to ask questions about the wizarding world, and at one point Neville had mentioned something called the Knight Bus. That would be perfect, he hoped that the bus would be able to take them straight to Diagon, but how was it called again? And did he have enough coins to pay the fare for him and Dudley? He’d hidden his coin purse and blue robes inside his school satchel, in the hope he’d get a chance to duck into the leaky cauldron to change into his robes.   

“Hang on Dudley, change of plans I think I can get us there quicker” Harry said quietly, and motioning Dudley to follow him to a quieter stretch of road  

“If I can remember how to call the bus that is, a friend told me about it before the holidays” He continued as he racked his brain on how to summon the bus, ah that was it, reach out your wand from the curb.  

“Back away from the road Dudley” Harry warned as he pulled his wand from his pocket and flung his arm out into the road   

Harry waited for a moment with anticipation wondering if he’d done it correctly while looking about making sure no muggles spotted the two of them. When all of a sudden there was a bang and the roaring engine of a shockingly purple triple decker bus materialized in front of them lurching to stop, its breaks groaning under protest of the strain. Dudley stood there wide eyed taking in the bizarre bus as a spotty faced wiry young man leaned appeared on the entrance way at the back.   

“Is yous be getting on or what” The man yelled looking put, Dudley being pulled along by his arm while he gaped at the bus by Harry, made their way over.   

“Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard, my name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor for tha morning.” The wizard spoke with a grin   

“Good morning, sir, how much to the Leaky cauldron” Harry asked politely   

“pssh I isn't no sir lad” he said with a laugh waving his hand dismissively “and that’ll be 11 sickles each, but for firteen you get the morning issue of the Daily Prophet, and for fifteen you get a Prophet, cupa tea and a bacon bap”   

Harry did some quick maths in his head, like a lot of things in the Wizarding World the money confused him a bit, but he roughly figured out that 2 galleons should cover them both with a little bit of change left over. It would bite into his purse a bit, but he was heading to the bank anyway. He fished out and handed over two of the large golden coins to Shunpike who took them with a smile  

“we’ll take one prophet, and two bacon rolls please” Harry said his stomach reminding him that he’d skipped breakfast out of nervousness, much to Dobby’s ire.  

“Ta lads, you off to meetcha mates in Diagon then? You two muggleborns?” he said in an easy conversational tone to them both, Dudley at the moment was looking around the inside of the bus which was both a bit bigger on the inside and had a chandelier dangling in a balcony cut out in the centre. Not to mention being confused at the collection of odd sofas and armchairs where there should have been rows of normal seats like he’d most likely expected.  

“No, need to head to Gringotts, got some stuff to sort out, and Muggle raised but my Mum and Dad were wizards” Harry replied feeling a little defensive about the muggleborn comment, though Stan seemed more curious than the feeling he got from Malfoy or any of the blood purity lot he’d met before.  

“Ahh fair enough, word of advice for ya mate, my da used to work at Gringotts before he retired” He started to say as Harry and Dudley picked a red leather sofa at the front of the bus.  

“You’s got to be polite to tha Goblins, proud people they are. But when it comes to deals be firm and haggle, they’ll respect ya more. Oh, and meet their eyes until they look away, they trust ya more if ya do” He finished, as he reached into a basket pulling out a rolled-up copy of the Daily Profit before reaching into a cupboard and producing two parchment wrapped bacon rolls still hot and steaming as if they’d just been made.   

“Thas two more for Diagon Ern, take us away” Stan yelled tapping on the glass where the driver sat. “Right o stan” he called back and with a loud bang and a lurch that sent the sofa He and Dudley were sitting on sliding back. Dudley looked suddenly very green as he sank into the sofa eyes closing as the world spun into a blur outside the window with the speed they were going.   

Harry bit into the bacon roll as he untied the string from the Prophet and was shocked by the title.   

Weasleys Win Windfall- Galleon Glee for the Ginger Clan   

In a turn of events that has brought joy to one well known wizarding family, known for their vivacity and indomitable spirit, The Weasleys were delighted to strike it rich in the Daily Prophets yearly profit sweepstakes. The Weasleys a Houshold that’s been synonymous with the term thrifty, have won a staggering 10,000 galleons. Congratulations!  

The family of nine headed by Mr Arthur Weasley and Molly Weasley, are well known in our community. Their bustling home, the Burrow has been a haven for friends, acquaintances and the occasional pygmy puff or two. Their brood of seven children, from the oldest and hardworking William, Bill to friends, to those at Hogwarts who would know of Fred and Georges antics as pranksters and troublemakers but sources of entertainment and affection for those who know them.   

The unexpected windfall couldn’t have come at a better time for the Weasleys, who despite their tight knit bond, have faced financial struggles over the years. With the youngest Ginerva Weasley now attending Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry leading to five children attending simultaneously a matter that would stretch any family coffers.   

Arthur Weasley, known for his fascination with Muggle inventions and dedication to his job heading the Misuse of Muggle artifacts Office at the Ministry, could hardly contain his excitement when he spoke to this reporter. “We are over the moon” he declared with his signature enthusiasm. “This prize will help us take care of our family, and perhaps even splurge on a few needed but unnecessary things for the home”  

Molly Weasley, the Heart and soul of the family, expressed her gratitude for the unexpected turn of fate “We never expected anything like this” She gushed “but we’ll used this opportunity to support our kids” When asked If they had any big plans for the money she replied “We’ve been thinking for a while about visiting our eldest who lives in Egypt working for Gringotts, but now we’ll be able to make it a full family holiday and do it properly” She smiled warmly   

Written by Celestina Bumblebee  

Harry was incredibly happy to see that some good had come to the Weasley family after the last year. Ginny deserved something nice after the hell she’d gone through with the diary. She still looked pale and wan even in the black and white moving photo of the clan gathered together. But there was a light in her eyes now, a spark that was finally beginning to glow again.  Arthur shaking hands with an elderly wizard who was listed as being the editor of the Daily Prophet. Fred and George were looking as they usually did, identical and already planning some mischief. Percy standing haughtily and proud. Ron stood next to his Mum, Scabbers perched on his shoulders while Ron smiled at the camera with a wide grin.  

Harry polished off the remains of the Bacon roll and paged through the paper to see if there was anything else of interest to him. There wasn’t much, but a look at the quidditch pages had him chuckling at the Chudley Cannons latest disaster of a game, they’d lost by 300 points after one of their beaters had knocked himself unconscious with his own bat.   

Looking over, he saw that Dudley seemed to be overwhelmed by this method of travel, though he was looking a little less green though, so that was a plus and he was attempting to nibble on his bacon roll keeping his eyes fixed on the floor. Harry folded the paper up and stuffed it in his satchel and spent some time watching the world spin by at blazing speeds outside the window. It was quite the experience too, every now and then the bus would lurch faster, and the surroundings would completely change. The bus stopped at one point somewhere in Wales, which shocked Dudley that they’d travelled so far so quickly and made Harry love magic even more. Half an hour later, Stan called out with a Yell “Next stop Leaky Cauldron, and Diagon Alley” the purple bus screeched to a halt down the side an alley way opposite the street from the main entrance and Dudley practically ran off the bus. Harry followed with a chuckle.   

“You okay Dudley” harry asked trying to squash a small amount of laughter as Dudley breathed heavily and looked ever so thankful that he was off that damned bus. Dudley nodded shooting a mild glare at Harry laughing at his situation.  

“Yeah, are wizards a bit insane? That bus cannot come from the mind of someone sane” he said exasperated.  

“Yeah, I think all Wix would be seen as a bit nuts from a muggle perspective” Harry chortled thoroughly agreeing with Dudley on that perspective, even if he did love the Wixen world madness and all.   

“Come on the entrance is across the street, you probably can't see it from this side, it’s guarded from the view of non-magicals" Harry said pointing out the doorway from across the street as the two emerged from the alleyway.   

“That grubby looking pub is the entrance to the Wixen world?” Dudley said looking at harry as if he was being tricked   

“Yep, I thought the same when Hagrid broug...” Harry’s mind skipped a beat and froze when he fully processed what Dudley was saying. “Wait, you can see the Leaky Cauldron?” Harry said shocked.  

He’d thought the other day that his cousin might have a bit of magical blood in him, purely because they were all related. Then there was the strange slight tinge of magic he’d felt when Dudley had gotten emotional and upset the other night, it’s what had started to make Harry think this way.  

But this, this was proof. Non-magical people could not, absolutely could not see the Leaky Cauldron. Even if they knew what it was and about the magical world. Hermione had complained at length one day to him and Ron, to how difficult it was to get her mother and father into Diagon alley as she had to practically drag the two of them past the doorway to get out of the way of the muggle redirection wards.  

 Her parents always insisted that they had somewhere important to be and had to be cajoled into pushing through the wards. Dudley could see the Inn, he could not be a muggle, Harry was certain of that now, he might not be a Wizard, but he definitely had some form of magic, could he be a squib?  

“Harry?... Harry? You there?... Earth to Harry!” Dudley practically shouted nudging on Harry’s shoulder before grabbing onto him and pulling him across the road, a car horn blaring as a disgruntled driver waved his hands making obscene gestures at the two of them for holding up traffic and taking so long to start walking across the road at a crossing.   

Harry came back to his senses when he reached the other side “uhm, what?... oh, sorry Dudley, something quite big just hit me, come on let's head inside and I'll try and explain.” He whispered to Dudley.  

The two boys reached what most would call a rather nondescript, practically shabby pub nestled between two perfectly ordinary buildings. A worn sign hanging on rusted chains from a cast iron arch depicted a cracked cauldron and the name “The Leaky Cauldron” in cracked and weather worn golden lettering faded and barely noticeable.   

“This is it Dudley” Harry said, nodding towards his cousin with a grin, excitement colouring his features. “It really doesn’t look like much from the outside, but this is it, one of the gateways to the wixen world, and Diagon Alley”   

Dudley hesitated, eyeing the shabby exterior with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty, Harry could tell he was already a little bit overwhelmed since Harry had dragged him aboard the madness that was the Knight Bus. Coming face to face with the gateway to a new world was hitting him now.   

“Don’t worry Dudley” Harry reassured him, “It’s perfectly safe, you're with me”   

Harry reached out and pushed open the creaking, bevelled wooden door, and the two were greeted by a sudden changed in atmosphere. The sounds, smells and hustle and bustle of the muggle world fell away behind them. The dim, ambient lighting inside cast a soft, golden glow that seemed to dance across the ancient wooden beams of the low ceiling, to Dudley it seemed as if he’d stepped into a hidden, enchanted world concealed behind the façade of a dingey abandoned London pub; it took him a moment to realise that, yes, he really had just stepped into a hidden world. A smile begun to curl at the corners of his lips. Harry wondered if he’d had the same look on his face when Hagrid had brought him here for the first time.   

The Leaky Cauldron was a place where time, ages, had left its mark. Evident in the polished well-worn wooden floors which must have seen generations of witches and wizards come and go. It was cozy, intimate, and seemed to expand to accommodate everyone who entered.   

The air was filled with the soothing crackle of the softly flickering lanterns and sconces that line the walls. Harry saw that Dudley's eyes were immediately drawn to the eclectic décor that adorned the walls. Ancient tapestries depicted mythical creatures and scenes from Wixen history, some of them seemingly alive as they moved or shifted. Shelves held an array of curiosities, from levitating quills to self-stirring cauldrons.   

Long wooden tables and benches, comfortably worn from decades if not centuries of use, were scattered throughout the room. The two boys could see solitary witches and wizards enjoying an early morning cup of tea, or something a little stronger. As well as groups of friends engaged in lively conversation over breakfast. Harry had always gotten the sense that The Leaky Cauldron was a place where stories were shared, secrets were whispered, and laughter echoed.   

A massive stone fireplace dominated one wall, its roaring fire casting a warm, inviting glow. Above the mantlepiece, a stuffed fish known as “Billywig” seemed to doze lazily, adding to the charm and eccentricity of the establishment. Framed photos adorned the mantel, some of them capturing magical moments in time from quidditch games to duels, to feats of magic.  

The bar, complete with brass railings, stood along one side of the room. Tom, the friendly bartender wore a welcoming smile as he served drinks and shared stories with patrons. Above the bar, a collection of tankards and mugs hung from hooks, adding to the rustic charm.   

Harry enjoying being back in his world even for a short time looked at Dudley who was drinking in the atmosphere, wonder openly shone on his face as he took in his first piece of the magical world. Harry thought Dudley would rather not consider the Knight Bus his first immersion in the magical world.   

“Good morning, young sirs, Mr. Potter a pleasant surprise to see you so soon, I'd not thought to look for you for a good long while yet” Tom the bartender said warmly with a toothy smile. “And who’s this you’ve brought with you” he added.   

“This is Dudley, my cousin” Harry replied introducing them.   

Dudley gave a hesitant wave but remained mostly quiet, still taking in the sights and sounds of the magical pub.   

“Good to meet you, young sir” Tom said cheerfully “First time at the old Leaky, is it, Dudley? Well, you're in good hands here. Now can I get you anything this morning?” Tom said rubbing his hands anticipatorily  

“No thanks Tom, we’re just heading through to Diagon” Harry replied   

“Ahh, I understand Mr. Potter, we’ve got onion soup as a special later today if you're interested and still in the alley” Tom said genially turning to another customer who’d walked up to the bar. Harry lightly touched Dudley on the shoulder, pulling him out of his wonder momentarily.  

“Come on cousin, this is just the beginning, Diagon Alley is out the back.” Harry said, Dudley's grin now contagious and mirroring onto his own face as he led Dudley out into the small courtyard out one of the backdoors of the Leaky.   

Dudley followed him closely, as Harry approached the seemingly ordinary red brick wall that marked the entrance to Diagon Alley. Harry took a deep breath, raising his wand and tapped a number of bricks with its tip, as if playing a silent melody on the piano.   

There were the briefest moments of anticipation, as if the bricks themselves were holding their breath, and then with hidden unseen magic, the bricks began to shift and rearrange themselves. First a single brick sunk backward, creating a small hole in the wall. Then, like a cascade of dominos, the bricks on either side began to move, revealing the wonderous sight of the bustle of Diagon Alley.   

Dudley's eyes widened in disbelief, and he gasped audibly as he witnessed the wall reshaping itself to create the entrance. Harry stepped aside letting Dudley get a clear view loving showing his cousin the first true piece of magic he could show him, that wasn’t him getting a pig's tail or some glowing lights in the corner of his room, He couldn’t help but smile at Dudley's astonishment; after all, he’d felt the same way the first time he’d seen it.   

“Go on, Dudley, it’s safe” he encouraged.   

Cautiously, Dudley took his first steps through the opening, gingerly brushing his fingertips against the brickwork. Harry followed closely, aware of Dudley’s mixture of trepidation and curiosity.   

Morning sunlight streamed golden down on the enchanted and enchanting street as the two strolled through the ancient archway. The two were immediately transported into the cobbled stones and odd buildings of the wizarding world. Harry watched holding a small laugh as he watched Dudley take in the peculiarities and wonders of his world, A witch who was levitating a large mass of shopping bags behind her as she window shopped. An elderly gentleman with a long grey beard appeared to be having a heated argument with a gorgeous tawny brown owl and losing by the look on his face; others also caught his eye, Witches and Wizards in bright and colourful robes, a few with pointed hats, even a few sleek black cats perched on an awning lazily observing the alley and enjoying the sunlight. He also couldn’t help but gawk at the sight of a broomstick that was sweeping the sidewalk on its own.   

Dudley’s eyes darted from shop to shop, taking in the fascinating array of storefronts. There was Olivander's, with its intriguing display of wands in the window, holsters of different kinds of hide, Harry made a mental note to come back and see Mr. Olivander at some point, that strange dissonance that he felt every time he touched his wand was really beginning to worry him. The two boys passed by Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions had some colourful robes that appeared to dance enticingly on their own. Eyelops Owls Emporium boasted a majestic array of owls, all hooting softly in their cages.   

The two walked slowly down the cobbled street, Harry letting Dudley drink everything in, and Harry simply enjoying being back in the place he’d first felt and seen magic openly.  

But before long Harry tapped on Dudley's shoulder who was qurrently staring into the window of the apothecary, masses of jars of pickled potions ingredients on display.  

“We’re almost at the bank Dudley” He said with a smile before continuing “I probably said before, but the bank is run by Goblins. First thing to remember is to be polite” Harry explained trying to sort out the bias and rubbish that Binn’s tried to feed his classes every year by droning on about the Goblin Wars. “They are a proud race of Warriors. They are smart, cunning and powerful in their own right. Try to remember what Stan said earlier about how to treat them” Harry finished taking a serious tone at the end as the two turned the corner and saw the bank in its full grandeur.   

Gringotts bank, the imposing cornerstone of Diagon alley, to them both it was a sight to behold. Its sheer magnificence was enough to leave Dudley in awe. The exterior constructed from a gleaming white marble that almost seemed to have a pearlescent shimmer, even on overcast days, but in the rays of sunshine, shone like white gold.   

The two began to ascend the marble staircase that rose to meet the massive bronze doors, which were adorned with intricate carvings of wizards and goblins engaged in various forms of commerce. The doors themselves were a masterpiece of metalwork, engraved with countless runes and symbols, intricate and mysterious. The Doors were flanked by two sets of guardians. The first two gigantic bronze statues of rearing dragons, their wings outstretched in a show of power and protection, fierce expressions on the reptilian faces and eyes that gleamed like fiery embers. One held an unfurled scroll in a taloned claw which read.  

 Enter, stranger, but take heed  

 Of what awaits the sin of greed,  

 For those who take, but do not earn,  

 Must pay most dearly in their turn,  

 So, if you seek beneath our floors  

 A treasure that was never yours,  

 Thief, you have been warned, beware  

 Of finding more than treasure there.  

Its other guardians were as imposing if not more. They stood just inside the wide-open doors, two goblin warriors, forms encased in gleaming intricately crafted armour, every piece meticulously crafted. The helms were fashioned from a dark polished metal, a menacingly narrow visor concealed their faces, revealing only the barest of glints of sharp intelligent eyes deep within. The chest plates were adorned and engraved in runes, symbols and intricate patterns, a mosaic of metal, expertly layered to provide protection. Their arms were covered in segmented gauntlets of a silvery almost glittering material. In one hand the warriors held a wickedly sharp halberd, its blade glistening with enchantments and runes, whilst the other rested on the pommel of a finely crafted sword, its hilt adorned with precious gems.   

Harry and Dudley passed through the doors and past the guards, Harry nodding in greeting whilst Dudley stammered a good morning. Neither caught slight change in the glint of the goblin's eyes to one of mild surprise as the two passed them by and headed into the main hall of Gringotts bank.   

Even to Harry who’d been here before found the main hall awe inspiring. He’d been too overwhelmed to really take in the place his first visit, and too nervous about trying to keep his visit to his vault quick before second year. Trying to think of ways to make sure the Weasley’s didn’t get a proper look at a his vault while he gathered funds for the year. Not out of jealousy, but discomfort and shame at showing off his wealth to a family who didn’t have much.  

But standing here now, he was able to take in the sight of the Goblin Nation showing off to the wizarding world. The walls were adorned with golden torch sconces, casting warm golden light throughout the wide spaces. The floor a mosaic of polished marble, with depictions of scenes of the goblins at work, and wizards entrusting their valuables to the bank. The massive marble pillars, surfaces etched with more intricate runes, soared to a dizzying height, supporting the domed ceiling far above. The ceiling depicted constellations that moved and shifted in real-time.   

The centre piece was the grand banking counter at the far end opposite the door. A massive high counter made of the same white marble as the outside of the bank. Behind it, goblins in sharp attire bustled about, handling transactions, counting coins, and ensuring the safety of the vaults.   

Harry and Dudley joined the queue for one of the fine redwood counters that lay up the length of either side of the bank. The counters were equipped with an array of scales, keys, quills. The queue was moving quickly and filled with all kinds. Wizards and Witches, and even a few magical creatures Harry guessed, all waiting in line to access their vaults or handle their affairs. A customer occasionally being led off beyond the grand counter, or off to the sides down into the depths where Gringotts guarded the vaults.   

A short wait later and Harry and Dudley walked up to one of the counters the goblin teller peered over the top and with a sharp glance spoke in a gravelly voice “Greetings wizard, state your business” the goblin spoke with a sneer.   

Harry met the goblins eyes and minding what Stan had said politely asked “Good morning, I was informed by a friend that I should see if my account still has an account manager”.   

The goblin held Harry's gaze for a short while not responding, before breaking eye contact briefly sneer transforming from a passive expression to something of interest.   

“You do not know, if you have an account manager” the goblin spoke a little incredulous.   

“That is correct sir goblin, I was raised muggle” Harry replied   

“Hmm, very well” the goblin replied, eyes narrowed on the two boys “State your name” he rumbled.  

“Harry Potter”  

The goblin’s eyes widened a fraction and the expression of mild interest turned to active interest. “Please present your vault key?” he asked firmly.  

“Uh, I don’t have it, I never have, the last person I know who did, was Mrs. Molly Weasley” Harry replied feeling the weight of the goblin's scrutiny intensify.  

“Foolish Wix” he spat, “Very well, we have other methods to determine if you are whom you say you are, but if this is an attempt at charlatanism, the penalties will be most severe” the goblin spoke, a blood thirsty grin forming on his lips revealing sharp pointed teeth.  

“Do you consent?”  

Harry nodded quickly, “Very well, follow me humans.” the goblin concluded before placing his quill down, and beginning to walk towards the grand counter.  

Harry and Dudley followed quickly trying to keep pace as they swerved to the left of the marble altar of commerce and headed into a well-lit wooden panelled wall corridor with wooden doors on either side, a lantern glowing white outside some of the doors and unlit outside others. The goblin led Harry and Dudley into one of them.   

The room was small, and simple at least by goblin standards. The desk was large and made of a dark grey almost black stone, while the wooden floors were covered by fine rugs with intricate embroidery of runic arrays circling the desk. The goblin who led them there, took a seat on the other side of the desk in a large wingback chair and motioned to Harry and Dudley to take a seat on. The chairs were uncomfortable, but Harry got the feeling that they were uncomfortable on purpose, If the scenes of battle, goblins defeating wizards in battle specifically, depicted in tapestries that covered the walls were any indication.    

“You have three options to choose from, Trial of Blood, Magic, or affirmation” The goblin spoke evenly, though his expression betrayed his interest.   

“What do each of these trials mean” Dudley surprisingly spoke up his voice wavering slightly.   

“The trial of blood is the simplest, you will take a ritual dagger and spill blood upon a stone, if you are who you say you are, the ritual will be satisfied, and you will be confirmed as who you say you are. If not there will be a penalty.” The goblin said bloodthirst tinging his tone.  

“For the Rite of magic, you shall be asked to cast a spell of sufficient power, and the bank will judge whether or not your magic matches that to a vault in our keeping” Harry didn’t know about that method, he might not be able to cast a spell that powerful yet.  

“And finally, the affirmation or confirmation, is where we shall summon another wizard in good standing, and they will swear that you are indeed whom you say you are. This method is not recommended and only stands due to the interference of your ministry” a dark look emerged on the features of the goblin after he mentioned the Ministry, it was a terrifying sight.   

It didn’t take long for Harry to decide.  

“I will go with the Trial of Blood, sir goblin” Harry said confidently, it was only pain, he’d had plenty of that. The goblin nodded, seeming satisfied, and if harry was reading them correctly, distinctly approving.  

 He stood and walked to a cabinet that stood behind the desk, and retrieved a silver bowl, a dark blackened stone a circular runic array inscribed and inlaid with crystal and a simple but wicked looking knife.  

The blade was triangular and had no guard, with a handle of simple leather wrapped around the bare metal. The goblin placed each item in front of harry. “First fill the silver bowl with blood, then cut your wand hand across the palm and place it in the sigil on the stone” The goblin spoke, his gravelly voice now taking on a more reverent tone.   

Taking a firm grip of the knife he held his left hand over the silver bowl and cut into the pad of his index finger. Harry winced with pain as he underestimated just how sharp the blade was. It was ice cold and bit deep into his finger, blood immediately began to pool on the surface and drip down into the bowl.  

It took a few minutes before the goblin nodded, the silver bowl now holding a small pool of riotous crimson liquid starkly contrasting against the silver. Before the goblin motioned for harry to move to the blood stone.  

Steeling himself, Harry moved the knife into his left-hand, blooded finger curling across the brown leather wrap. Harry spared a moment to look to Dudley, who looked massively disconcerted at what he was seeing. He was pale, confused, a little horrified but he met Harry’s eyes and nodded. Harry drew the blade across the palm of his wand hand being very careful not to cut too deeply this time, well aware of the sharpness of the knife now. The ice-cold knife still bit deep into his flesh and blood rapidly began to pour from the wound, but he didn’t hesitate and slapped his palm down in the centre of the runic array carved into the stone.  

He felt a distinct pulse of magic from the stone, it was electric, and seemed to build beneath his palm, the crystalline inlay began to pulse and glow a bright blue before flashing white once and fading. Harry realised he was breathing heavily and placed the knife down on the tabletop, sitting back down in the chair feeling drained it took him a moment to realise that the cuts inflicted by the knife had healed, not even a scar remained on either his palm or fingertip.    

The goblin looked at the young boy with approval, before nodding his head in a shallow bow “Well met, Heir Potter, Gringotts recognises the taste of your blood, we are open to you”   

Chapter Text

The goblin stood and left the room a moment to summon the Potter account manager later, Harry realising that he’d never asked for his name. Harry sat slumped backwards on the uncomfortable Gringotts chair, feeling drained. He was beginning to suspect he might have lost a bit too much blood, a bit more than the ritual had needed.  

“You okay Harry” Dudley asked from the chair next to him.  

Harry blearily looked over and nodded “Yeah, I'm, I'm fine Dudley, that just took a lot out of me.” He said chuckling Grimly “I think that ritual took a bit of magic too, that or i gave too much blood”  

“No kidding you must have bled about a pint of blood” Dudley replied, looking at the dagger and bowl of blood that had been left on the table. “What do you suppose the blood bowl is for?” he asked looking at Harry for an answer. Not that Harry did.  

“No idea, to be honest, I think it must have been some form of blood magic, but they certainly don’t teach that at Hogwarts” Harry answered, “I fact I thought all blood magic is supposed to be banned in Britain” He continued, brows furrowing.   

“Indeed, it is Heir Potter” A deep guttural voice rattled out as the door swung open and in walked another goblin. This goblin looked older harry thought, and instead of muggle business style robes, it wore long flowing red and black robes, his arms were bound by golden torc’s and from his neck hung a golden medallion with a crest, upon which a Sword, an Axe and a set of scales were carved.   

“But you are currently not in the kingdom of Britain, you currently sit in the Halls of the Goblin Nation” the Goblin cackled “and thus the ministry may go bother a manticore with what they decree to be Illegal. Besides blood magic is far too useful to outlaw.” The goblin finished as he crossed to the other side of the desk and sat in the throne like chair on the other side.   

“I am Master Keeper Axehand, Account manager to the Potters for some 40 years by now. And you” he said eyeing Harry closely “Are Mr. Harry Potter, Heir Apparent and Lord Presumptive to the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter” He finished with a smile  “Heir Potter, It is good to finally meet you, I have attempted to gain a meeting with you for the past five years, Did you not answer my owls on request or order from your guardians?” He asked smile morphing into something predatory.  

“Uh, please call me Harry... what owls?” harry asked confused, He saw Axehand’s eyes narrow to slits   

“Postal owls, Heir... Harry, I pressume you are aware of what those are?” He replied sarcasm oozing from his words.   

“Well, yes. But I've never gotten any post from Gringotts, just my friends and from Hogwarts” Harry responded still confused.    

The glint in Axehand’s eyes sharpened at that statement, flicking down the edge of the table, before his eyes softened slightly.  

“Curious, most curious, that will have to be investigated. Now then to business” Axehand spoke loudly as he sat up clapping his hands once with a sharp crack, as he did a leather satchel appeared on the desk; The leather tooled with another crest, though it was not the as the emblem that hung from Axehand’s neck. Harry was curious about it, he didn’t think it was a Gringotts logo, could it be? But before he could ask Dudley spoke up  

“Umm. Excuse me Manager Axehand, but could you do something to help my cousin first. I think he might have bled a bit too much” his voice was shaking but the tone was firm  

“mmmh,” The goblin intoned eyes sweeping over Harry before pulling the silver bowl across towards himself and glancing inside.  

“Yes, yes I dare say you did”, he was about to speak again when he paused, head doing a double take, his eyes narrowing like a hawk on the bowl. He reached out and gently lifted the bowl and brought it up to his nose and took a sniff. His eyes shot to Harry and a deadly edge to his voice barked out.  

“Is this some kind of trick Heir Potter”   

Harry reeled back, hands coming up in surrender at the goblin’s sudden hostility.  

“I. Wha... I don’t know what you mean” Harry stammered out.  

“Tell then, Heir Potter, why have you laced your own blood with venom. Truly potent venom if my nose is correct.” Axehand seemed to be furious Harry however, relaxed, shoulders dropping and relief replacing confusion, which just made the look of confusion appear on Axehand’s features instead.  

“Oh, that,” Harry spoke “I got bitten by a basilisk about a month ago” Harry spoke easily as if it was the most normal thing in the world.  

Axehand’s look of confusion immediately morphed into one of utter incredulity  

“I beg your pardon, Heir Potter, but did you just say you were bitten by, vault dammed basilisk a mere month ago? How by Ranrok’s axe are you still alive, and where did you even encounter such a beast?” His guttural voice seemed to jump an octave with each statement.   

“Umm, yeah. Have you heard of the Chamber of Secrets at Hogwarts?” Harry asked to which Axehand nodded eyes narrowing in focus.  

“Well, it was opened this year at Hogwarts, the monster of the chamber was a Basilisk. I survived because there was a phoenix, and their tears have incredible healing powers according to professor dumbledore”  

Axehand took another look at the blood before exclaiming.  

“You’re not lying, it’s faint but i can detect phoenix tears mixed with the venom actively neutralising it” he looked at harry for a moment a mishmash of confusion, and alarm on his face before immediately getting to his feet.  

“Wait here, our hunter killer teams must be alerted. foolish wizards we should have been notified immediately to kill the beast” he spoke as he hurriedly made his way to the door   

“It’s already dead” Harry called out Axehand stopping in his tracks with one hand on the doorknob.  His head snapped around to harry who continued to speak.  

“Um, I mean I killed it, didn’t really have a choice. But. Um, there was someone else trying to do a ritual to steal my friend’s sisters' body, so I had to kill it to save her” Harry rambled, messing up half his words, Merlin he barely believed his own words.  

It did sound bizarre, and wholly unbelievable now that harry thought about it. But whatever Harry thought Axehand’s response would be, it certainly wasn’t laughter, if you could call it laughter. Axehand was doubled over at the waist, and shaking with laughter, it was a menacing laugh too. Harry felt a chill in go down his spine, it sounded like breaking rocks and the sound of a blade on a whetstone.   

Before long Axehand got hold of himself “By the carven throne” he muttered to himself “You potters never do things by halves do you” he muttered quiely as he made his way back to the desk.  

“Well, I can see that you are not lying Heir Potter.” he said before fixing harry with an interested look before continuing. “How did you manage to slay a Serpent King then” he asked leaning forward eyes fixed, and eagerly listening.  

“Um, well I had quite a bit of help from Fawkes, Headmaster Dumbledore’s phoenix. He managed to find me in the chamber before distracting and blinding the Basilisk by putting out its eyes.” Harry said Axehand nodded, seeming to be picturing the fight.  

“But Fawkes had brought the school sorting hat, and I don’t know how but when I put my hand inside the hat I pulled out a sword. I'd lost my wand you see” he said sheepishly running his hand through his hair.  

“I started running, trying to avoid the Basilisk as much as I could but I got trapped and it was coming right for me, jaws wide open, that thing probably could have eaten me whole.” He said shuddering at the memory, one that featured heavily in his nightmares.  

“I don’t know how to use a sword, but it was all i had, so I sort of lunged forward with it stabbing through the roof of its mouth, but that’s when one of its fangs got me in the arm” He said rolling up his long-sleeved shirt to show of the large circular puncture wound in his arm.  

Axehand simply stared at Harry for a moment “Well, Heir Potter, I must admit, I had initially intended to recommend another Account Manager for you, after years of being ignored. But you are far too interesting to let go to another goblin. To face a Basilisk, a Calamity Class War beast. Alone with nothing but a phoenix and a blade, untrained and to walk away intact is nothing short of remarkable” Harry blushed a little and stared at the floor.  

“You believe me? I don’t think I’d believe me if I’d just heard that from a stranger” Harry said confusion in his voice, people normally didn’t believe him not about they didn’t about someone trying to steal the philosopher's stone, or when he said he wasn’t the Heir of Slytherin.   

“Well Heir Potter, Harry, firstly there are truth telling runes built into this side of the desk that light when a lie is detected, but even without them, I think I would believe you. The Potters have always been extraordinary wizards.” He said with a certainty that Harry didn’t know what to do with.   

“Now then, excitement over, to business” Axehand spoke eagerly. “I’ll go through the formal parts first, then we can get to the testing to verify and discover all of your claims and re-keying of your vault” Pointing a gnarled finger at the bowl of blood on the desk.  

“Initially, this briefing was intended for your father James Potter, as set up by Charlus Potter your grandfather.” Axehand spoke formally.  

Harry felt a warmth in his heart, Charlus, his grandfather, he didn’t know that.  

“But due to the circumstances of the first blood war, your parents Lilly and James had already gone into hiding one month after you were born, cutting themselves off from the world. As a result of this when both Charlus and Dorea Potter nee Black, passed from this world on the 5 th of January 1981 due to an unfortunate and virulent strain of Dragonpox. Your Father the Heir apparent could not come forward to claim the estate, the Rings properly. Then when both your parents fell against the Dark Lord Voldemort on Samhain of that same year, that left you as the sole heir to the Potter estate. Sadly, your parents being as young as they were, did not lay down wills to carry out their wishes, at least none that I am aware of. We've never been granted leave to enter Potter Cottage which has remained sealed since”   

Harry felt numb, he’d known that he was an orphan but to hear it spoken so plainly in this businesslike tone rattled him,  

 “So, what does this mean?” Harry asked.  

“Well, normally if you were the heir to a regular Noble house, it would mean very little, you would be subject to the usually processes of claiming your heirship at 13 years old and ascending to the lordship upon your majority.” Axehand explained.  

“But houses of your stature, operate differently. And so, we come to the reason I've attempted to reach you several times since you entered the bank two years ago after your 11 th birthday. The reason being, Most Ancient houses, should not be left bereft of lordship for too long. Houses that old are too deeply woven into the fabric of the land. There have been Potters, Bone’s, Olivander's, Longbottom's, Blacks, Greengrass's and Nott’s in this land for over 2000 years. The Potters have been patrons of the nation for over a millennium and a half.” Harry’s brain faltered hearing the scale of his family once again, he’d felt that feeling a few times since Neville had brought him up to speed.  

“But I'm wandering from my point, As the last Potter, it activates certain clauses in your family magics namely, Yr Etifeddwr Olaf, clause which I believe translates as The Last Heir.” Axehand paused to reach into the leather satchel that Harry had completely forgotten about and flicked through a sheaf of ancient looking parchment, before reading rapidly  

“Ah yes, by the right of magic etc.” he mumbled before looking up and continuing “It permits the raising of an Heir at any point, and the granting of Lord Apparent status, giving limited control over the family until the heir in question meets their majority or is chosen by magic to be worthy.” He looked at Harry, with a sharp toothed smile “If you consent, we shall begin immediately, fortunately it is a very simple process as designating a Last Heir was done in times of emergency.”   

Harry felt... he didn’t know what he felt, numb? His brain felt like it was shorting out, everything was happening way too quickly. Harry didn’t expect this from this visit, though if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t know what he expected. He’d thought he’d maybe get some information, and something to plan for in the future. But this last heir protocol, Lord Apparent, the Potter Estate it was too much. He felt something bubbling in him, cold and hot in a swirling miasma deep in his gut. He began to panic, and launched to his feet, His vision started going fuzzy, going black around the edges... “What?” he slurred and the last thing he felt was a sharp pain on the side of his forehead before everything went black.    

---------  

His head hurt there was a dull pain on the side of his face that lanced into sharpness up to his temple with the slightest of movement, the dizziness returned as he his eyes blinked open. “What the hell happened” he himself. “Did I faint?” mumbled at the blurry ceiling above him not expecting an answer.   

“Greetings Heir Potter” a new voice answered, it was a higher pitch, but still the voice of a goblin he thought through the miasma of confusion.   

Harry tried to sit up, but his head recoiled at the attempt sending the room spinning like a top   

“Now now Mr. Potter, do not attempt that again, you’ve done your self quite the injury already.” the same voice answered.  

“And yes indeed you did faint, right into the corner of the meeting room’s stone desk.” the voice chided. “From what axehand described, you started to become confused and came over faint, before attempting to stand. This caused your legs gave way and you keeled over headfirst into the corner of a granite desk, temple first. Now as you are a most valued customer you were brought to our healing halls. Now sit up fully and drink this potion, it’ll be different than those you’ve taken before but effective all the same. I will go summon Axehand immediately” The voice said firmly but with a note of softness buried within.   

Harry took the goblet and could just about make out that it was a greyish metallic liquid. The potion was ice cold as he drank it down, though fortunately tasteless. He immediately felt the pain in his head receded to a mild and dull ache rather than the sharp stabbing sensation he’d felt when he’d first woken up. He looked around as well as he could and thought he could make out the vague shape of his glasses on a small table next to his bed. Reaching out he felt the cool metal of the frames ground him and his sight return to normal. Looking around he took in the sights of a goblin healing hall.   

The walls seemed to be hewn from some dark, ancient looking stone. Lamps hung every few meters, that cast a soft blue ethereal glow throughout the chamber. Towards the centre of the chamber there was a large circular pool, the liquid within crystal clear, but tinged with the same silvery metallic luminescence as the potion. Around the rim of the pool, ancient runes of a kind Harry had not seen before were carved they were angular and sharp, Goblin Runes perhaps? It was quiet, and peaceful and Harry couldn’t see any other occupant in any of the other beds lying around the circular room.   

Harry laid back in the bed, he knew better than to disobey the orders of healers and mediwitches by this point, quite frankly he feared Madam Pomfrey more than he did Snape by this point. He also assumed that any goblin healer would likely be more intense than a school matron. Before long he could hear the sounds of heavy boots clicking on stones making their way closer and approaching the double doors to the right of his bed. They swung open, and he saw, Axehand and the Goblin healer who must have been the one to patch him up.   

“Ah, Harry, you do know how to make a first meeting interesting” Axehand said, an amused grin on his harsh features.   

“What happened, you know other than me fainting and bumping my head” Harry said feeling a little ashamed over this mess   

“Pahh, bumping your head, you practically split your skull open boy” The healer spat “you lost a lot of blood, would have been worse if not for the intervention of your cousin, even if he did it accidently, decent bit of healing magic if a bit unrefined”  

Harry bolted up straight in the bed eyes wide “What did you say?” he breathlessly asked shock coursing through him   

“Your cousin, in his fear for you, must have accidently used magic to stop the bleeding, could be no other meaning as to why your bleeding stopped so quickly or that your skull was already knitting back together when you reached here, an no it couldn’t have been the phoenix tears in your blood, the tears are perfectly balanced with the venom in your blood, there is a mild healing capability but not enough to do that” The healer stated   

“Thats absurd” Harry uttered astonished by this development   

“Why is that absurd?” the healer and Axehand said together   

“He’s a muggle, or a squib at the most, I've felt a little bit of magic from him but very little, He doesn’t go to Hogwarts, never even got a letter. He’s never did any accidental magic; it was all me growing up. Where is he by the way, I think I need to talk to him” harry said   

Axehand replied “He cast something unintentionally in that room, his magical signature is markedly different from your own, which spiked as you fell. He did not realise that he was the cause though, that much I am certain of.” Axehand said placatingly, trying to calm Harry down  

“You’ve been out for most of the day, he had to leave an hour ago to make it home on time. And he had a message for you. That he would try to return tomorrow, and he would think of something to tell your aunt and uncle.”   

Harry’s mind was reeling, what the hell was he going to do? Dudley used magic! Did that make him a Wizard? he liked the idea which surprised him. If it had been the old Dudley, well the old Dudley would never have come with him. He’d have to have a long talk with him tomorrow. He realised he’d gone quiet, and the two goblins were staring at him.  

“Sorry, that just a bit of a shock” he understated, what is it with Dudley throwing him for a loop lately “Sorry, I don’t think I asked your name Healer” He asked meeting her eyes, she held his gaze for longer than the teller or Axehand had, but eventually smirked “Well met Heir Potter, I am Healer Ranala” she spoke with a small nod of her head.   

“Now then, since you’re here, I'd intended for you to make an appointment to see our healers for any issues at a later date, but might as well get it over with now” Axehand muttered before motioning to Ranala to take over when Harry nodded his affirmation   

“So be it, then first thing that we shall do is an on overall thorough scan” she said walking over to a chest of draws and pulling out a large sheet of parchment. She pulled a moving table over the bed and placed the parchment down Infront of Harry there was a box at the bottom large enough for a handprint and the parchment was bordered with the same angular runes that were on the base of the fountain pool.  

“If you’ll place a blood sample in the box Heir Potter. It will trigger a diagnostic ritual on the parchment where any issues and health problems you suffer from will be listed. A warning though, this list will be very detailed, it will include Heritages and any major spells cast upon you. Wixen healers use a version of this spell, inferior as it is. This is blood magic, and there is no better tool for healing”.  

Harry looked around for something to draw blood with, when Axehand interrupted “Here use this” he said as he passed to harry, a familiar looking leather wrapped hilt, though its blade was covered in a simple leather sheath now.  

“Gringotts's usually clean, purify and reuse these blades, but since they are of goblin apprentice make, there is a small chance that they will take on the properties of that which may make it stronger. I decided it would be unwise to potentially pass an envenomated blade to a customer since it has tasted your blood, which has basilisk venom within it. It’ll not harm you though”   

“20 drops will be sufficient” Healer Ranala prompted  

Harry made a small cut on one of his fingers and let an alarming number of drops of blood fall into the box, the blood sank into the parchment and disappeared, eerily reminding harry of how he discovered Riddle’s diary. Ranala began to chant, a deep guttural voice chanting in a language that sounded like shattering rock and ringing iron. As she chanted writing began to form on the parchment.  

Name: Hadrian “Harry” James Potter  

Blood Heir To The Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter/Peverell  

Named Heir of The Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Black/ By Godfather’s blood bond- Unconfirmed Heir.  

Claimed Title of Most Noble Gryffindor – Heirloom Claimed by Might of Deed, Character and Blood Confirmed 1993.  

Conquering Title of the Most Noble Slytherin – Claimed by destroying Corrupted Claimant- Gift given 1981, confirmed 1993  

Core Status – Self repair ongoing, 60% usable, Density – A minus, predicted restoration, 6 months   

Detecting Long term damage from Parasitus Malum Animae, Destroyed by basilisk venom  

Detecting Ancient Magic, scripture base unknown, sacrificial foundation, familial link detected, assisting in core restoration, effect lessened by long term attempts to contain and destroy Parasitus Malum Animae   

Detecting long term link to parasitic ward scheme/ Recipient/binder – Broken, link severed, ward location Little Whinging, Surrey, broken June 1993, ward scheme incorrectly placed, Incorrect Sanguine Runic configuration.  

Mind Status  

Inclination to Occlumency- Damaged by long term exposure to active Parasitus Malum Animae, potential for repair, repair ongoing.  

Compulsion of Mild Suggestibility – Keyed to Albus Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, wand cast.   

Compulsion of Aversion – Key phrase Slytherin, potion cast  

Compulsion of Aversion – Severus Snape, potion cast  

Compulsion of Impulsiveness, potion cast  

Potion of Inattention/counter focus, potion cast  

Date imbibed SEPTEMBER 7th-20th , 1991. Countered by Phoenix tears and Basilisk Venom  

Body Status  

Warning Detection of primal forces within blood stream. Basilisk Venom and Pheonix tears- currently homeostatic, being absorbed by body- likely result very minor healing capabilities, resistant to venoms and venom-based poisons.   

Warning- Long term Malnourishment severe, impacts on growth, strength, energy levels predicted  

Warning- Prolonged exposure to Parasitus Malum Animae resulted in severe declination in eyesight. Parasite removed; partial eyesight rectification possible.   

Warning- Prolonged exposure to Malnourishment, Parasitus Malum Animae  has resulted in partial destruction of natural Metamorphological capabilities. Minor capabilities remain. No recovery possible.   

Warning- Exposure to Killing Curse, Resulting in permanent scarring. Worsened by Parasitus Malum Animae minor restoration possible. Compete removal highly improbable.   

Harry felt sick as the list then proceeded to list every major injury he’d ever received. The list was substantial.  

Every broken bone, every massive bruise, head wound, burn and beating he’d ever received from the Dursleys. There were several notes next to some of the injuries that prompted more details. He remembered the pain that’d come from Aunt Petunia and the frying pan, a note next to that read that the blow had cracked his skull. The diagnostic elaborated.  

“ Potential for Death, Massive/ Countered by rapid healing from Ancient Magical source and Parasitus Malum Animae”  

That one had truly scared him. Petunia nearly killed him, would have killed him. If not for the Ancient Magic and the Parasite which had been countering each other all his life, but had put their fight aside to have to save his life.  

Healer Ranala took the parchment to examine once she’d finished chanting. Harry saw her eyes get wider and wider, look of shock and what scared him most a look of horror forming on her face as she looked between the parchment and Harry repeatedly, Harry would have paid more attention if he wasn’t replaying the list in his own mind at the time.   

He’d expected House Potter, Black as well? Not to mention Gryffindor and Slytherin! what the hell was that about, what did them being titles make them different from houses. And where did they come from? Could it be when he drew the Sword of Gryffindor, he managed to claim the title, and Harry supposed killing Voldemort as a child who had claimed to be the heir and that Harry had also managed to find the Chamber might have been enough the Slytherin title.  

But what scared him the most was the Parasite; his blood ran cold at the thought of it as he tried to think about what it meant. The list said that it was destroyed but from his mediocre Latin he’d figured out that Parasitus Malum Animae meant Parasitical Evil Soul. There was only one person that could mean. Had he been carrying around a piece of Voldemort’s soul all his life? Thinking on it, his scar had always hurt around Voldemort was this why? He felt disgusted, violated even.   

Then there was the Parasitic Ward Scheme, was that ward scheme the protections around Privet Drive that Dumbledore was always talking about? They didn’t sound very bloody protective, and he’d certainly never felt safe or protected there. Not until this summer for an entire two days and that was thanks dobby looking after him. And Dumbledore, the compulsion, was he behind all of them? He was behind the Wand based compulsion for certain. But the potions, where the hell had they come from? He felt hurt, betrayed, he felt fucking furious.  

He didn’t miss the date’s either, that within the first month of Hogwarts, someone had potioned him! Had keyed him to have prejudices, had messed with his ability to concentrate, to hate certain people. No wonder he found it easier to focus and study now. He wanted to break something, to run, to fly away... To just be left alone.  

Harry hadn’t even realised he’d slipped into a state that felt an awful lot like his meditation when a spark of magic hit his shoulder, The pain he felt now blooming up his arm and brought his focus back to the room.  

Harry realised he was at the centre of a maelstrom of energy that whipping around him like a windstorm. Debris had been scattered around the room, there were few broken chairs, a bed knocked over. Healer Ranala had ducked behind an overturned table.   

He saw Axehand on the floor a look of focus on his face and a pool of blue chaotic energy in his palm. Harry blinked and begun to try and draw the storm back in, imagining it like his meditation practice, calming the waves of the storm down from a squall to a breeze. The windstorm lessened and lessened until it calmed fully silence settling into the room in the place of the gale. Harry collapsed backwards onto the pillows of the bed, breathing heavily, drained of energy, yet again.   

“I..i-I'm so sorry, I just got so angry” Harry spluttered seeing the looks on the goblins face’s Axehand in looked furious, Ranala however didn’t”  

“I perfectly understand Heir Potter” Ranala said calmly, Axehand shot her a glare.  

“Here Axehand, read before you judge the boy his anger, and tell me yours is any less on behalf of a youngling” she said sternly, holding the parchment for Axehand to take, he did so but petulantly. He started to read and his expression chenged the look of anger swiftly became one of wrath but not directed at Harry.   

“By the carven throne, I beg your forgiveness Heir Potter” he said bowing slightly   

“Nothing to forgive, and please just Harry to both of you, you snapped me out of whatever that was” Harry said wearily “Can you explain what all of that means? I can figure some of it out but a lot of it just confuses me.” Harry asked tired, exhausted and very confused.  

“Of course, Hei... Harry” Axehand replied, finding a chair that wasn’t broken and bringing it over to the bedside.  

“While you give him an explanation of the political aspects, I shall go and figure out a treatment plan. Try and reverse some of the damage you have suffered, the prognosis is good, aside from a few outliers that are marked on the diagnostic, most we can treat if not outright fix.” she said warmly. She gave a short nod of the head as she exited the room, already muttering to herself about potions she’d require, and something about a ritual.  

Chapter Text

“Now then, we shall start at the beginning, any questions for this section?” Axehand spoke evenly  

“I didn’t even know my name was Hadrian” Harry spoke softly, tracing his finger over the ink as he looked at the copy of the parchment laid in front of him. Axehand looked at him with empathy, a softness gracing his hard features that Harry had never thought possible for a goblin.  

“Um, yes, I knew I was Heir to the Potter’s, but where do the rest come from” Harry quickly spoke.   

“Yes, this section alone will likely create enough problems to be dealing with for a while. The diagnostic does indeed confirm you in as Heir Potter. This is desirable and we would have been doing a confirmation test regardless, which is based off of this ritual, whether you’d not passed out in the meeting room or not. The others are a bit more complicated. Firstly, the House of Black is another member of the Seven Most Ancient houses,” Harry nodded; Neville had covered the seven houses a few times.   

“Having you be the heir to two houses is not unprecedented, this dual heirship has happened before, and that we can deal with. You are the unconfirmed heir however; you will need to be tested by the family magic to see whether it will accept you.” Axhand paused a moment seemingly taking a deep breath before continuing.  

“What is likely to, how do humans put it, ah put the cat amongst the pigeons, is that it is your Godfather seems to be the one who named you to it.”   

“Why? Why is that a problem, I don’t even know who my godfather is, Neville didn’t know him” harry asked confused.  

“The problem, is that it is quite widely believed that he is an insane mass murderer currently being detained in Azkaban, furthermore” Axehand took a deep breath before continuing “It is believed that he was the one who sold your parents out to the Dark Lord”   

Harry, getting really fed up with having world altering information dropped on him once again. He felt anger, confusion and hurt boiling in his gut, but was stopped by a sharp look from Axehand who’d felt the magic in the air begin to rise and begin to whip into a fury once more.  

“But” he bellowed fixing harry with a glare “I now firmly believe that he could not have done so”  

“Why?” Harry spat angrily   

“Because it specifically states in the diagnostic, that he swore a godfathers oath bound in blood. With such an oath there is no way that he could harm you, nor or allow you to come to harm even indirectly. His blood and magic would rebel against him, should he attempt to raise a wand against you or act maliciously, in all likely hood it would likely kill him.” Axehand spoke evenly and calmy, before his eyes turned stormy.  

“The issue that we must somehow deal with, is that there is now a good chance that a potentially innocent man rots in the cells of the closest thing that wizards have to Hell, surrounded by demons of the old world” Axehand spoke coldly. Harry had no idea how to respond to that.   

“I will attempt to investigate Harry, but a Goblin’s reach in such matters is practically non-existent. We have no voice in your law enforcement” He said almost apologetically.  

“Back to the titles. With the titles to these houses; You will gain their lands, estates, vaults and some would argue most importantly, their seats on the wizarding government. I am not that well read on your government save for the occasional insult in policy written by them when it clashes against goblin nation laws. But I believe that the Most Ancient and Most Noble Houses each hold five votes. Assuming you end up wielding both titles, you will have quite significant influence”   

“Moving on, the titles of Gryffindor and Slytherin. I can see these are causing you some measure of confusion” Axehand said   

“The first thing to be aware of is that these Titles are not like your House titles. There are no lands, at least not technically outside of perhaps some small parcel of Hogwarts. There are no vaults and no Wizengamot seats. They are titles of honour and can be obtained by any Wixen should they meet very specific standards set by magic itself. Your tale of the basilisk would undoubtedly meet the criteria for the Gryffindor title. That you have discovered Slytherin’s chamber may be what confirms you for the Slytherin Title”  

“Is that how I managed to call Gryffindor’s sword?” Harry queried.  

Axehand just stared at Harry for a moment, before blinking blankly.  

“Yes, that is very likely, are you telling me that the sword that you said came to you, and which you slew a basilisk with, was none other than Godric Gryffindor’s sword?” he said in a deadpan fashion.  

“Um, yes?”   

Sighing slowly Axehand spoke quietly. “Keep that to yourself around Goblins. The blade is Goblin forged, and by rights after the wixen for whom it was made is gone from the world, it should be returned to its smith. I would usually agree, but Goblins have a Rite in which you may claim a weapon for your own lifetime if it is used in an act worth of a warrior. Even a goblin would admit that slaying a basilisk is a deed worthy of legend and would easily earn you the right to bear one of the works of our finest smiths”.  

Harry nodded, quickly filing away yet another major piece of information he’d have to deal with at some point, that list was going to be frustratingly long he could just feel it.   

“There is a difference between the Slytherin and Gryffindor titles however; that being that one was claimed, the other was taken. The mantle of Slytherin, taken by conquering is more unassailable than right by challenge. By defeating whom I must assume as Lord Voldemort as a babe, you earned the right of the conqueror. The title will be yours until death where it will become dormant until a new worthy claimant takes it up, assuming you are not killed yourself.” He added grimly  

“Which leads us to a piece of information that you should be aware of given your family situation. A conqueror’s claim is vastly different from the others, it can only be done under force, and you must slay the last member of a house and you must be the last of your own. It is nearly impossible to do so under normal practice. It is magic’s way of rewarding the victor. There are usually safeguards against it. But since the Slytherin title is extinct as a traditional house, those safeguards have failed; Or you may have a legitimate claim from a different angle, something you may wish to investigate at some point. The Potters, however, do have an extinction clause, if all members of The House are killed, The Family magic will destroy itself rather than submit to another's authority.”   

“So, if I die without an heir, then the Potter house will die with me?” Harry asked half not wanting to know the answer the other half already aware.  

“Yes, heir potter, I’m afraid it will” Axehand said gravely leaving Harry to feel the weight of the responsibility he will end up bearing.   

“I am not sure what the diagnostic means by gift given though?, do you have any insight, Harry?” Axehand questioned, attempting to move the conversation onwards from a macabre topic  

Harry racked his brains before stumbling on the obvious answer. “Yes, I think so, I think the gift is Parseltongue” his face lighting up, he was incredibly very relieved that it wasn’t another link to Voldemort. The similarities between him and Tom had worried him when he’d taken the time to compare them.  

“Well then, that is quite the gift.” Axehand stated delightedly “The snake tongue has gained a nasty reputation that it does not deserve. Healer Ranala, has several human wixen she contacts for particularly tricky and nasty healing cases, and they are all snake speakers. Parseltongue is particularly well gifted with healing magics” He finished with a nod.   

“ Going back to the titles, what do they mean though?” Harry asked,   

“For the most part they are just that, titles, as I said previously, they are Honour titles.” Axehand explained, leaning back in his chair for a moment thinking deeply.  

“You see the wixen conclave from the time when the school was being founded were incredibly wary of sending their heirs, and as such the future of their magical houses, to learn under the four founders.”  

“They feared the amount of power and sway that those four would have on the future of the Wixen world. In response, and to show their forthrightness and honest intention, The four renounced all claims in perpetuity on any political power, financial power or personal power that did not directly involve the governing of the school itself.” Axehand elaborated.  

"The titles will grant you prestige and fame but come with no Money, nor votes in Government like your house titles do. There may be some implications when you reach your majority that allow you some sway within Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, most likely a seat on the board of governors, although once again I will research.”   

The next section dealt with Harry's core, and it’s the part that had worried him the most. Harry decided to bite the bullet.  

“What does that mean” Harry said pointing at the line the described the “Parasitus Malum Animae”   

There was a sharp intake of breath from Axehand, who grimaced before speaking.  

“That is Black Magic, of the worse kind” Axehand’s voice was dark and cold, and a little bit fearful.  

Harry swallowed hard as Axehand continued “Quite frankly I am surprised you are mentally sound. The sacrificial magic cast upon you must have been incredibly powerful to be able to stave it off all these years. The term in the diagnostic, refers to a black art known as a Horcrux, which I will say as little of as I can, it is an attempt at gaining immortality. By tearing your soul apart and storing it away so you can never truly die unless it is destroyed. There are very few methods to do so, one of which is basilisk venom, which now courses through your body” He finished with a nod to Harry  

“The ancient protection, if I am correct comes from your mother and father. Magic is about intent even for us goblins who work magic in a far different form to wixen. But with ancient magic, from the few sources I've read about, is about balance above all else, a price and a payment.”  

“They gave their lives freely with their intent being that you should live. Magic took this intent and payment and protected you, likely from the killing curse itself, and has protected you since then from the Horcrux, which would have been trying to consume your soul and use itself as a replacement.”  

“Horcruxes are a Black Art. Moreover, it is gone and dealt with, I pray for you not to linger overmuch on it.” Axehand said an iron firmness in his voice.    

“I’m just glad I don’t have to deal with it anymore, it was useful when it warned me that he was close by. But I'm glad it's gone. I feel sick now I know part of him was inside of me though” Harry said, arms curling in hugging himself.   

“And the ward scheme, this, this worries me, it has all the hallmarks of improperly used blood magic.” Axehand muttered.   

“I think I've figured that one out” Harry spoke, Axehand looked intrigued and motioned him to continue, eye narrowing in interest    

“Dumbledore always insisted that I return to the Dursleys for the summer, you know despite them treating me the way they did. I practically begged him to let me go anywhere else for the after my first year. But he insisted, that it was the one place outside of Hogwarts where I'd be safe if I called it home. I would’ve have run away, but something always made me feel like I should stay” he said disgust pouring off him in waves.   

“So, what changed? the diagnostic says the link was only broken recently” Axehand asked   

“Maybe the compulsion? it stopped being effective after I got bit by the Basilisk” Harry pointed out the line in at the bottom of the mind section. “I started thinking for myself, and before I left Hogwarts, I remember distinctly saying to myself, that number 4 Privet Drive, was not my home, it had never been my home. Then I felt something snap, and I nearly passed out from what felt like magical exhaustion.”   

Axehand nodded, “A viable theory, I trained as a warder before being promoted to manager. A parasitic scheme usually relies on a price paid to fuel the wards. It seems like you have been recharging the wards every time you returned to that location. Do you remember feeling drained at all while there?”   

“I always felt drained there, but I just thought it was due to the insane amounts of chores I was forced to do” he said spitefully   

“A parasitic ward would feed upon the magical power of those that dwell there, it's practically imperceptible and would grow strong over decades of powering by a whole family. But that the ward was set incorrectly means it may not have functioned correctly.” He looked pensive for a moment  

“The incorrect Sanguine Runic configuration is the likely cause of its unstable nature, I would have to have the remains of the ward examined in detail to figure out why” he said, clearly curious.“Do you intend to return?” Axehand asked neutrally a moment later.  

“Where else would I go?” Harry asked despondent “The only other place is Hogwarts”   

“I shall think on it, see if there is something I can arrange, by the time you leave the halls of Gringotts you should have a more powerful position” Axehand spoke trying to keep his voice even.   

Harry looked at the parchment again, seeing Occlumency mentioned and really wanting to change the subject “Oh, I’m already learning Occlumency” he said trying to push some brightness in to his tone.   

“Indeed? Excellent, it is good skill to have, it is not natural Occlumency, where a mind is unreadable by others through some unique means, but you should pick it up quickly thanks to this predisposition. Though you have been warned about learning too much too young I hope, Goblins have something similar, and it has similar effects on a young mind” Axehand asked   

“I’ve been warned, and I'm learning from a book recommended by my head of house for the same reason” harry replied.   

“Excellent. Well then I’m afraid we shall have to wait for Healer Ranala to return to discuss any further. I never held much interest in the body, except for learning where to cut it with a blade to ensure that an enemy falls swiftly in battle.”   

A slightly awkward silence filled the healing halls. The subtle sound of the occasional drop of water hitting the healing pool in the centre of the room, reverberating off the dark stone clad walls. Harry couldn’t take it and it was him who broke the silence.   

“What does claiming my rings mean?” he asked remembering something Neville had said what felt like years ago in the library by this point.   

“Ah yes, that would have been the next step in our meeting. You see houses, bear their marks of office and their crests through family rings. They are often also enchanted to provide benefits to the wearer. Normally you would just be claiming the heir ring, but since you are to be Lord Apparent, then you shall be claiming the Lord’s ring also, it will give you certain rights that an Heir does not have”  

“Then there's a difference between a Lord and a Lord Apparent?” Harry asked. Axehand nodded.  

“Primarily, less responsibility. You will not be expected to take your Wizengamot seat, nor will you be expected to take part in society. You also may not form a betrothal contracts, but you may reject them. You will gain access to the full vaults of the Potters, but it will be a supervised access, supervised by me. To ensure you do not frivolously drain the accounts or take dangerous items from its depths. But most importantly, you will not have to deal with the boost to your magic that taking control of a House causes. Young bodies are not yet accustomed to dealing with the amount of power a house of this age can come with. But you need to be able to interact with the Family magic to some an extent to allow you to perform certain house business, interacting with family wards, accessing family secrets and artefacts for example.”   

The two lapsed into a more companionable silence, harry leant back into the pillows, and rested his eyes. The comforting sound of a quill scratching on parchment filled the air, and he saw that Axehand had brought out some work to do whilst the two waited for Healer Ranala to return. They only spoke in passing to ask far lighter questions than some that had been thrown around already.  

Axehand even went so far as to summon some food for the two of them, goblin food was certainty different from anything that Harry had eaten before. It was some sort of hearty meat stew, strong and spicy with a deep and rich gravy sauce filled with mushrooms and a root vegetable harry couldn’t identify.   

Half an hour or so after they’d finished eating, He guessed at least since there were no clocks in the healing hall, and he couldn’t be bothered to cast the Tempus charm. The dark oak door swung open. Walking quickly and with purpose Healer Ranala strode into the room carrying a tray filled with an assortment of different potions bottles and pastes.  

“Good evening once again Heir Potter,” She spoke loudly as she approached Harry’s bed “I believe I have devised a thorough treatment plan for you. It will be rough at first for you I shall not lie. But it will begin the process to start reversing most of the damage you have survived. Now Axehand you may leave, an account manager will be of no assistance here on” She spoke firmly and sharply.   

“Very well, I will return tomorrow with your cousin, may your enemies fall before you Heir Potter” Axehand said with a sharp nod of his head and began to pack away, the various notes and parchment he had made before quickly exiting the room.  

“Now then, Harry, I assume Axehand has gone through the political aspects of your diagnostic, but do you have any questions for me?” she asked as soft as her harsh voice could allow.   

“Well, Axehand didn’t have anything to say about the body section of the diagnostic, so if you could go through some of that, and if you could explain what it means by damaged core as well?” Harry asked quietly  

Ranala scoffed “Naturally that old paper pusher would know nothing of Healing, so be it. But I cannot truly speak on the nature of your core beyond the very basics. That is the purview of a wixen healer. But nothing stands out as truly threatening at this point. The magic in your core is very dense for one your age, but my prediction is that because you have been tied into a ward scheme.” She explained  

“You have been using your core subconsciously since the wards have been in place. Then there is the long-term fight with the Horcrux to consider, that has been raging for over a decade. For a Wixen, magic is a muscle to be used and the more it has been used, the more control and power you will be able to wield, you have been flexing those muscles for a very long time without realising it.” She paused for a moment trying to find the correct analogy and checking to see if Harry was still following her description   

“Now that the Horcrux and the draining effect of the Ward’s gone, your core is healing, you will find a marked change in your magic. It's almost as if you have been walking around your entire life wearing weighted iron boots, now that they are gone, don’t be surprised if you find yourself able to leap considerably higher. Any further questions on your core?” She finished  

Harry shook his head, he’d already begun to notice the changes in his magic, his wandless powers being the biggest changes. But just being able to feel his own magic beneath his skin when he meditated or feeling power course down his arm and through his wand when he cast a spell with it were the most profound changes. He felt more in touch with himself.   

Harry and Healer Ranala began to look through the bodily part of the scan as she walked Harry through it, she indulged his questions when they arose. To Harry’s surprise this section was mostly straight forward, mostly.   

The absorption of the basilisk venom and phoenix tears was unprecedented. But Ranala explained that Wixen in general are quite hardy folk, but she promised she would keep an eye on the process. Though that there was little to worry about, if Harry was going to die from the venom, he would have keeled over weeks ago. The two substances were being absorbed by the body slowly and aside from the slightly improved healing and resistance to poison, there would be no other effects.   

Ranala also explained her treatment plan for the malnourishment, it was straightforward. Mostly involving Harry having to take a minimum of two potions a day for at least two to four months. This would allow his body to repair and get the necessary nutrients needed. They were standard nutrient potions that could be purchased over the counter at most apothecaries or potion shops, with a few more particular potions such as appetite enhancements and absorption potions to aid his damaged system with processing the nutrients, Harry figured he’d send Dobby to go buy them.   

What excited Harry the most however, was when Ranala explained that she may be able to fix his eyesight. While he didn’t mind his glasses, though he was sure they weren’t his prescription since Aunt Petunia had picked them out of a bargain bin. Harry couldn’t deny the problems they’d given him. He’d nearly broken them several times in Quidditch practice after they’d fallen off as he tried some more advanced seeker moves. He had to admit, that not having to worry about his eyesight would be incredibly liberating.   

Then came one of the more difficult things for Harry to accept, that if things had been different for him, he’d likely have an incredibly interesting and cool gift. Harry hadn’t known what a Metamorphamagus was until Ranala had explained it. The ability to completely change one's own body, like Polyjuice on demand.  

But the power was mostly gone. Even though he’d never known about this gift before, it had stung to learn that he’d had the potential, but that it had mostly been destroyed. He would have to practice seeing what was left, Ranala had guessed that he would be able to change minor things, possibly his eye colour, and maybe his hair to some extent.   

Then came his scar. Harry had waited patiently to ask about this one in particular. To his disappointment, he’d learned that even if the horcrux had been keeping it as a barley closed wound, his scar was permanent. After all, the scar did still come from a very dark curse, and curses always left marks on their victims that were difficult if not impossible to heal. Ranala did mention that it would be less noticeable, the inflammation would go down, and slowly scar tissue would form and make it much harder to make out.   

“Onto the long list of injuries that will cause issues for you going forward if they are not addressed. Poorly healed broken bones, in your fingers, arm, and foot will degenerate into joint problems if not rectified. Muscle degeneration, that will be resolved by the nutrition potions. The overall weakness and brittleness of your bones is more involved, but again a weekly bone strengthening draught will improve that. However, since the bones are the base structure of humans, they are important in more ways that simple physical health. From a magical standpoint, they are the fundamental building blocks of the self and thus magic, a foundation if you will. If the foundation is damaged, all that is built upon it will be weak, including any healing that is performed. In order to rectify this you will undergo a ritual, and I've already arranged for the ritual to go ahead in a few hours”   

“A ritual!?” harry choked.  

“Yes, a ritual, don’t worry, it’s a fairly straightforward one, it will remove the affected bones and regrow them” she saw the petrified look on Harry’s face an let loose a cackle.  

“Unless you would much rather, we do this the long way? Without blood magic? and have you spend the next two weeks having bones vanished and regrown through Skelegrow”   

Harry paled and shuddered at the mention of Skelegrow, that stuff was vile, and the sensation of his bones slowly regrowing themselves overnight was deeply disturbing. “I thought so” Ranala chuckled   

The two then spent the next twenty minutes, going over the details of the treatment Ranala had designed. She was happy to learn that Harry had the service of a trustworthy house elf, and she recommended giving Dobby a copy of the potions list, how often he needed to take them, and when. While harry looked down the long list, Ranala took the time to explain in detail what each of the potions and salves that he would be taking did. Unfortunately, there was no one bottle instant fix for something as serious as lifelong neglect and malnourishment, as the effects of both each had their own kaleidoscope of issues that needed to be dealt with.   

The damage to Harry's bones could be fixed by vanishing them and regrowing them later as part of the ritual, but they would still be weak and easier to break and damage than they should be, unless rectified with potions. Then there was the organ damage, the muscle weakness, the issues with his stomach and digestion that had finally given Harry an answer as to why he could never eat more than small portions of food at a time, his gut simply couldn’t handle it when he’d try to eat more. It was a horrible for Harry when he truly realised just how badly the Dursley's had hurt him, Healer Ranala outright said that if he was not Wixen, or even if he was not as unusually powerful as he was for his age he would not have survived this long. Once Ranala was happy with the level of comprehension of the issues he was facing, Ranala had Harry change into a ritual worthy garment.  

Harry soon changed into a coarse un-dyed linen robe, and was quickly walked through the halls of Gringotts, being led by Healer Ranala. While he walked Harry’s mind was whirring, but as he turned over all the information, he’d learned today he became more and more certain. He couldn’t go back to the Dursley’s, he wouldn’t. He had no idea of what he would do Harry admitted to himself, he was fighting the urge to march back there and test the limits of his wandless magic. But no, he would not be going back, he couldn’t see his relatives again not after this. But what to do about Dudley though? he wondered? Dudley his reformed bully of a cousin, and now apparently magical.   

Harry’s thoughts stalled as he and Ranala stopped before a tall dark stone door inscribed with all manner of runic arrays. The runes were angular, almost blade like in their design, dark scars in the surface of the stone. They were imposing, almost threating; but not menacingly so, the power that radiated from them seemed to warn Harry of the power that laid inside, of what could go wrong when the laws that bound magic to the world were not obeyed.  

The door swung open silently after Ranala spoke a single syllable of the goblin language, revealing to Harry a wide circular cavern carved out of the same dark stone that the door was made from. The cavern was dimly lit by protrusions of white glowing crystals that seemed to pulse with a pure white fluorescence.  

Looking to the left as Ranala led him inside Harry spotted a group of seven Goblins in a small alcove lit by firelight. The warm yellow glow highlighting bookshelves filed with ancient scrolls next to a small potions workshop. Each of the Goblins wore a simple black linen cassock, and one peeled away from the group and walked over to them. The goblin spoke in rapid fire Goblin tongue, Healer Ranala seemed pleased by the talk as she gave a small grin and nodded before turning to Harry and introducing him to the new Goblin in English.  

“Heir Potter, this is Skrol, the leading caster to this ritual room. He will be guiding the ritual” She spoke in her usual harsh voice, though Harry thought he could hear a bit of reverence there now.    

“Hello Mr. Skrol” Harry said, voice beginning to waver now his nerves were finally starting to catch up to him at the thought of going through a major ritual.   

The goblin piqued an eyebrow as he looked at Harry, and locked on to his gaze, Harry only just remembering the goblin custom of keeping eye contact, tried to do so but his stomach rebelled, doing backflips as he spotted the massive ritual circle beneath his feet. Harry was not expecting a laugh to burst from the new goblin.   

“You... are an interesting one Heir Potter. Even more so for a Wix, even most goblins don’t try to keep up with the niceties if they are unfortunate enough to require my services” He spoke with a rumbling chuckle   

“Well, that seems a bit rude, you’re going to try to help me right? Makes sense to be polite.” Harry murmured quietly  

That stopped the chuckle from Skol, maybe it was the earnestness on Harry’s face or his overall demeanour, but Harry saw that Skol really took a moment to re-appraise him.    

“Yes, Heir Potter, I and my circle shall do our utmost to assist you. Even if you were not the Heir to one of the banks oldest clients, we would do the same. Goblins are ruthless in war and finance, but we do not abide the ill treatment of the young, no matter what race.” He spoke firmly but warmly   

“Thank you, Healer, you may return to your halls, you will be summoned once the ritual is complete” he said to Ranala who quickly retreated from the room with a small nod, a sharp toothed smile to Harry and a bow to Skrol  

Skrol led Harry over to the alcove where the other goblins were busying themselves with the preparations for the ritual. One seemed to be double checking the lines that were carved into the floor, Harry took in the scale of the circle, it spanned the size of the main cavern, a good 30 feet across. Skrol noticed Harry looking at the circle with curiosity and invited him to sit in one of the small chairs at the edge of the alcove.   

“Now tell me Heir Potter”   

“Harry, please”   

“Very well, Harry, do you have any experience with Ritual magic” he spoke as if he already knew the answer   

“No..., Well actually that’s not true” Harry Replied   

Skrol’s brows rose slightly in surprise, evidently not the answer he was expecting  

“I did perform a ritual a few weeks ago when I bound my house elf Dobby to me, It’s the only ritual I've ever done though” Harry finished   

“Interesting, how did the ritual feel for you, it’s good for me to know how your core may react to ritual magic ahead of time, since healing ritual we will be performing is quite delicate”  

“Um, I’m not sure, it felt warm, I could feel the magic build around me, I liked it, the runes Dobby used were interesting too” Harry added  

“Really, in what way? I’ve always found the Futhark bindings a little bland myself, or did you use Ogham?” Skrol asked, as he leaned forward in his chair, indulging Harry his questions.  

“I don’t know what they were called, Dobby said he didn’t know the ones that the ministry uses so he used ones that all elves know, I can't remember what he called them, the something promise?”   

Skols eyes lit with interest and his eyebrows certainly rose in surprise.   

“The First Promise? Did your elf use the First Promise runes, basic circle configuration orientated at the spokes of a compass of the sun.” He said excitedly   

Harry was caught off guard slightly at the new exuberance of the goblin, just nodded.   

“Well, Harry, you may very well be the only Wix alive to use the old magic promise to secure elfin aid. I knew there was something interesting about you”  

Skrol’s words flew right over Harry’s head, “Old magic?” Harry asked perplexed,   

“Oh yes, the magic of the world before, ancient, powerful, very dangerous in some cases”   

Harry internally flailed in alarm, had he messed up by jumping into the deep end with dobby and not checking everything through properly? Skrol must have seen the alarm on Harry’s face as he followed up.  

“Not this particular ritual though, in fact, it was one of the purest pieces of magic ever wrought by the Wix and elves. I suspect that your elf never told you the story behind them or was never told themselves.” Harry nodded before Skol continued  

“I shall give you the short version, the ritual is almost prepared, and I must walk you through the process for that before we start”   

“Okay.” Harry replied, leaning forward in his chair, mildly wishing he had a quill and parchment to take notes, Hermione would love this he thought.   

“In the old world, some several thousand years ago, magic was wild in the lands. There were more creatures abroad in the world than there were now, far more, the Fae creatures. Our brethren the dwarves still carved their own halls. There were the hidden cities of the elves, these were not the creatures that you know now, but tall, proud and graceful and they came in many forms. They dwelt in the forests, in the darkness and there were the high elves that dwelt between the world and the fey realms.   

But the rise of the humans concerned them, there were already great civilisations being built by your kind, The mages of the Mesopotamian’s, later the Asian countries and the Egyptians. They saw that the world was changing, and magic was too. They decided to leave and to completely erase their existence and nearly all evidence of themselves from the memories of the world, save for the stories they left behind.” Skrol said almost wistfully  

“No one truly knows where they all went. We know they still exist, the Fae wild occasionally has gaps open, and there are those most unfortunate to fall in, I believe one wixen first blood accidently found herself wandering there a few decades back, you would know her as Alice.” He chuckled.    

“But I digress, the old world retreated, The Dwarves delved deeper and deeper closing their halls behind them. The High Elves with their utter mastery of magic closed the walls of reality around their domains. The Night or Dark elves just disappeared into the shadows. But that left the wood elves, and the other lesser elven races behind. They existed onwards fine for a time, a few thousand years or so, but the continuing rise of the Humans and the changes Humans brought to flow of magic. Not to mention the shrinking of their ancient forests caused a change in the elves, they shrank in stature becoming a lot more like the creatures you know today, but more importantly their ability to weave their own magic was starting to fail; and for a magical being that is a fate far worse than death.”  

Harry shuddered recalling the look in Dobby’s eyes the day he offered him to join his family.  

“Then they did something unprecedented, they came from their forests and asked for help. We don’t know who assisted them, but together, with the elven knowledge of the old world and the new magical power of the wixen. A way for the remaining elves to continue was found by way of the First Promise, meaning the first promise between Wix and Elf. That a Wix would allow an elf to channel a small piece of magic from them, filtering it and allowing the elf to sustain itself and use it for their own. And in return the elf would promise to help and assist the wixen in any way they could. But the bond has been warped to what you see today, a mockery of the Promise.”    

Harry sat transfixed the entire time Skrol was talking, the story that Skrol wove was fascinating, and seemed to make the Magical World all the more, well Magical and fantastical. He couldn’t help but picture grand graceful castles, tall lithe elves in ornate armour. He reeled with the knowledge that the Fae were real, that the eponymous Alice of wonderland fame was a real person.  

He sat with that information for a good while, particularly thinking about the First Promise, the promise seemed like an amazing way to help elves while still allowing them their own freedom to an extent at least? He loved that he’d given dobby that chance. But where had it gone wrong for Elves and Wixen ? Harry’s musings were interrupted by Skrol.  

“Enough about ancient old-world magic and history. Time for the here and now, we will begin the ritual in ten minutes, once I explain the ritual you should centre yourself and prepare. This ritual will be painful” Skrol said, he features already hard turning to granite.   

Chapter Text

“This is Ritual Chamber, Stone Primary, one of our main ritual rooms, we have others for minor rites, but this is not minor rite. As healer Ranala may have mentioned this ritual has a blood magic basis that will allow it to key in on you. So, while I shall be leading the ritual you will initiate it. You will do this by dripping a few drops of blood on the rune in the centre where you will be standing.” Skol paused, making sure that Harry was keeping with the information as the two walked into the circle proper and Skrol pointed out the centre point. The rune was startlingly familiar to harry, it looked a lot like the lightning bolt scar on his forehead.   

Harry was quite proud to say that he keeping up for that matter, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was about to have a lot of bones replaced and regrown Harry thought that he would be rather excited. But right now he was nervous and trying his damnedest to focus on the here and now.  

“Right, blood on the centre rune, ahh, but I left my ritual dagger in the hospital” he said with an apologetic look on his face  

“No matter, you would not be able to use it in this ritual anyway, the blood must be shed by the person wanting to be healed, either by magic or self, no tool permitted, do you know any cutting spells?”  

“Not without using my wand” Harry replied, his mind immediately considering if he could manage it wandlessly.  

“Then do so, this room is impenetrable to the eyes of your ministry, and I grant you permission to use It for this task” Skol responded with a dismissive handwave.  

“Would you care to take a guess as to the difference between ritual magic and the type of magic you use Heir Potter?” Skrol asked pausing his stride for a moment, eyebrow quirked in interest  

Harry thought for a moment, he’d never really considered that there could be differences in magic before, at least until he started being able to truly feel his own magic. Thinking back to the way that Skrol had described the way that wixen enabled elves to use their magic, he guessed that ritual magic might be somehow similar. “That my own magic comes from inside me, but a ritual allows me to use external magic?” he said, uncertainly. He was rewarded by a sharp grin and a pat on the shoulder from Skrol  

“Indeed, you are very close to the mark, A wixen, and goblins for that matter, naturally draw magic from a wellspring within, how that wellspring is initially filled has confounded the greatest minds of both our society. But a ritual, for the most part requires drawing on the energy of the world, of which there are many types.” He explained genially  

“This ritual room is designed to gather, concentrate and use, the magic of the earth element. Earth being a foundation, and thus being more magically significant for attempting to rebuild your bones which are the foundations of yourself.”  

“Are you following?” Skrol queried clearly enjoying explaining this.  

Harry nodded, still mostly trying to settle his nerves, and was grateful to Skrol for attempting to distract him like this.  

“Now then, once you have powered the focus rune by charging it with blood. I suggest that you lay down on the floor” he pointed with his hand indicating the smallest ring within the centre rune lay.   

“As we shall be vanishing your leg bones at some point in the ritual, it would not wise to try and stand on said leg” Skrol said with a gruff chuckle.  

“This is not a grand working thus we will not be using the entirety of the circle only the first three layers” He elaborated pointing to the three outer rings of the seven-ring carving.  

“The outer layer will be manned by three of my circle, they shall be controlling the power input as they draw it from deep below” The two stopped at the outer circle where three of the goblins had already taken their place, they eyed harry with something close to respect, much to Harry's surprise.  

 The runes of the outermost circle were bold and expansive, already beginning to pulse with a radiating power. Skrol explained that the runes of the outer ring were symbolising the connection to the earth that the goblins had and the grounding magic that flowed through Gringotts itself. They were geometric in nature, pentagrams and spirals spaced with what harry thought were words written in the goblin language.   

 “The second inner ring, will be dealing with precision and the vanishing of your bones.” The runes of the second ring Harry saw were far more delicate and precise, they formed intricate patterns of spirals, interlocking triangles and concentric circles   

“And finally, the centre ring where you will lay, and I will stand over you to control the ritual and regrow your bones.” Skrol finished. Harry looked at the inner circle it was the most complex by far, it consisted of intertwining sigils and sigils within sigils, forming an intricate latticework of markings. The outer rings confused harry enough, but this was what it took to perform master level runic work and ritual magic.  He actually felt comfortable with that despite the complexity unnerving him, knowing that he was in the hands of people who were evidently masters of their craft.   

“Now sit in the centre and attempt to find your own. Meditate, sing or dance for all I care, but try and relax as much as you can, it will only help” Skrol patted harry once on the back before leaving him in the centre of the cavernous room, to perform his own preparations.  

------  

Harry sat down on the cold hard floor of the circle, fingertips tracing over the fine and detailed runes inscribed into and tried to get his mind to calm. But first, he properly looked around the room from its centre. The room was circular save the alcove where the preparations were quickly wrapping up. The eerie soft light of the countless glowing crystals embedded in the domed ceiling above him glittered like sharp and frozen shooting stars. The walls to the Harry could see now that he looked were carved with more symbols and runes.   

Harry closed his eyes and counted his breathing before reaching inwards thinking of his river. He didn’t try and perform any occlumency though, he’d figured that it was probably better not to allow things to build up down river blow up in his face later. He also didn’t try to perform any since he didn’t know if it would interfere with the ritual somehow and he didn’t want to risk it.  

But he did picture the river. The calm yet swiftly flowing water running below his bare feet. The green luscious grass of the bank upon where he sat. He allowed his mind to follow the flow of the river, but to be calm like its surface. A short while later he opened his eyes, as calm as he was going to be, and saw that the goblins had taken their positions at intervals around the circles.  

Skrol stood in front of Harry with a gnarled black staff in his hand now, his seemingly ancient and metal grey eyes locked onto Harry’s, giving him the slightest of nods.  

Harry fighting back a shuddering breath whispered a quiet “ Diffindo” while pointing his wand at the pad of his left index finger. The cut was shallow as Harry’s skin split, allowing crimson beads of blood to gather on its surface. He turned his hand over above the central rune and squeezed, letting a few drops of blood fall from the wound. There was a slight sizzle as the blood hit the ancient stone and the center rune lit with a gleaming blue light.   

“Acceptable, now lay on your back Heir Potter” Skrol spoke firmly.   

Harry did so, quickly putting his back to the cold unyielding stone. To his surprise the stone was rapidly becoming warmer.   

In the outermost circle, three goblins stood, and began to chant, low and guttural. Voices reverberating and echoing off the walls creating a choir of harsh voices. In their hands they raised shining white gemstones, it filled harry with a sense of unease and vulnerability as he lay on the stone as he truely felt the ritual commence.   

There was a rush of power from the outer circle, Harry could feel it. Deep old magic, seldom called upon rose from the earth, the runes of the outer circle glowing with an eerie pale light. The ground began to tremble as a subtle energy coursed into the room from below and with every harsh chant it intensified until the air of the room shimmered with undirected power.   

Then the Goblins of the second circle began to chant. Their voices were different, a melody this time, one that flowed came from them. It was deep still, higher in pitch but still just as harsh. The melody kept time and matched the rhythmic chanting of the outer ring turning a chant of raw power into a song of purpose.  

Yet it was still missing one thing. Everyone in the room felt the shift in the magic, it felt directed, focused, and sharp. Harry felt an urgent need, fight or flight, as his instincts flared clenching his teeth, he fought the urge to run as he chose to override it. He sent the urge to flee or oppose this ritual skipping down his Occlumency river like a launched stone.  

The magic pierced his body with a soft warmth at first. It made him feel grounded as it roamed his prone form seeking the damaged bones beneath his skin and muscle. Then that warmth grew and grew until it became a lance of incandescent flame beneath his skin. It was excruciating, like feeling the basilisk venom come to life again in his veins but far deeper.  

But the pain was purposeful, it resonated in areas where the bones were damaged, almost as if the bones themselves were calling out like a symphony of suffering. Each note of pain matched the precise movements and spell weaving melody of the goblins, as if his bones were singing a complex song of transformation as Harry even through the pain felt their absence as they vanished deep within him magic keeping his internals in place, Harry clenched his teeth, accepting it, he’d been warned that this would bloody well hurt, and he knew it was necessary.    

As Harry lay still, skin awash with sweat and flush with pain as Skrol stepped forward. A Solem expression on his face, and a voice that seemed to reverberate with power and eyes gleaming with ancient knowledge he began to incant.  

If the Outer Circle was the rhythm of the music and the Second Circle its melody, then Skrol was the key, a shining counterpoint. To each deep note of the melody of the second circle, his voice was stark against it, higher, less harsh somehow as the second circle rose his voice fell and if the second circle fell then his voice soared. As the goblins of the Second Circle maintained the precision and pain, the magic guided by Skrol dove deeper. It was here the healing took place.   

Harry could feel his bones reforming, a latticework of magic providing the structure. The pain was still present, but it transformed into a different sensation, an agony of renewal. It was as if his building blocks were being redefined and forged anew. The damaged bones gone as the new ones grew with meticulous control and incredible care, weaving together in a tapestry of healing and, it was a dance of magic and pain, a harmony of suffering and salvation.   

And then, slowly but surely, the pain began to subside, Harry’s breathing which had become ragged, slowed and found a rhythm as the magic of the ritual faded. Returning to the deep places of the world from where it had been called. He felt drained, exhausted even, but different, a weight, aches and pains he had had for so long and had learned to ignore were gone and he could scarcely believe what it was like to simply exist without pain again.  

His muscles which had grown taught during the ritual slowly unclenched Harry feeling the lactic acid burn as he relaxed, opening his eyes that he hadn’t realised he’d closed as saw Skrol standing over him, wiping his own brow with a cloth and smiling at him.   

“Well done, Harry,” Skrol spoke softly “Do you think you could stand?” He asked   

Harry truly didn’t know if he could, but he wanted to try; and he held out a shaking hand to Skrol “I think so” he said hoarsely as Skrol took his hand in an iron grip and slowly helped him stand.  

Harry legs shook as he stood on them for what felt like the first time. And in a stupefied state he realised the pain he ignored in his foot was gone, he’d forgotten about that twinge; or repressed at least. A few years ago, Vernon had “accidently” dropped a vase petunia had bought and that he didn’t like in front of Harry, intending to have it break and lay the blame on him.  

The heavy, ugly piece of porcelain had landed on his foot and had probably broken a few toes judging from the mottled black and blue colouring which had lingered for the entire week that he’d been shut in the cupboard; Petunia’s choice of punishment. There had been an ache ever since, which had lingered long after the bruises had faded. But now it was gone, Harry looked at his bare feet and he saw that his little toe was straight now, not oddly crooked and bent in on it self like it had been. Harry didn’t know why that one hurt had caught him off guard the most.   

Drawing him from his reflection Harry looked up from his foot and saw Skrol in front of him and the rest of his circle standing in a line just behind him. They gave a short and shallow bow towards Harry before returning to the alcove, muttering to each other in goblin speak.   

“You impressed them” Skrol remarked   

“Me? how, I just laid there, they and you did all the work” Harry replied confused   

“Because you didn’t cry out” he said solemnly   

“This ritual was not a minor working, and while it was far from the most painful ritual in existence, that you didn’t scream in pain is highly commendable, the longest three minutes of your life I’d imagine” he nodded   

“Three minutes!?” Harry exclaimed “Thats it? Felt like at least half an hour”   

Skrol laughed sounding like falling rocks “Indeed?”   

Skrol with a hand on Harry’s should led him over to the small chairs they’d both been sitting in previously and sat him down as one of the other goblins walked over with two horn cups filled with a steaming liquid and handed one to both Harry and Skrol  

“Rockmint Tea, it is calming and will help steady the tremors in your muscles, there will be limited muscle damage from the regrowth. I’d expected a great deal more and while I’d like to claim credit for that, it was in fact your doing” Skrol said before continuing at the questioning look on Harry’s face.  

“Ah, you didn’t move overmuch during the ritual, if you’d moved, the regrowth would have irritated the muscles by having to shunt them aside. But as it stands since you managed to stay mostly still, the only soreness will come from where the bone was already impinging the muscle tissue.” Skrol finished raising the cup and taking a deep swig before leaning back in the chair visibly content   

Harry sniffed the pale blue liquid the steam rising from the cup tickling his nose and took a small sip. The warmth permeated him chasing away the cold from laying on the stone floor. It was strong, with a very strong mint taste that flooded his tastebuds from just a small sip; he felt the slight shake he’d picked up gradually subside as the tea went to work.  

The two sat quietly as the other circle members packed away staves and gemstones, one goblin walked over to the central rune, pulled the stopper on a large potion bottle and poured the contents onto it, a faint hissing leapt into the air. Skrol mentioned that it was a purification potion that would destroy any remaining traces of Harry’s blood, purge any lingering magic from the circle and start the process of readying the ritual room for its next patient.   

After fifteen minutes the exhaustion of the day crept up on Harry and his eyelids began to slowly droop down Harry was quickly losing the battle to stay awake. When the door to the room swung open and Ranala strode into the room purposefully he didn’t notice. He could barely focus on the conversation between Skrol and Ranala, he figured that they were talking about the ritual, and from the pleased look on Ranala’s face it must have gone very well, she nodded and bowed to him before shuffling over to Harry.  

“I know you must be exhausted Heir Potter, but you’ll sleep better in a proper bed, now come with me” She spoke softly.  

Harry then felt a firm grip under his arm as he was hauled from the chair onto his feet, eyes blinking blearily, he barely registered being walked out of the ritual room and through the halls of Gringotts once more.  

Nor did he remember getting into the healing room bed, save for the sheer relief and comfort he felt when he got between the sheets and pulled them up to his chin. The light to the healing room was lowered and Harry was deep asleep as soon as he closed his eyes.   

----  

Harry woke comfortably the next morning, at least he thought it was morning, his sense of time had been skewed quite a bit. He wasn’t even sure what time the ritual took place last night let alone when he was put into bed. The crystals mounted into brackets around the room began to gradually brighten filling the room with light, when a door on the other side of the room creaked open.  

Healer Ranala poked her head out and saw him siting up in bed rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Harry saw her and reached for his glasses before realising that he could see Ranala from across the room, clearly, and he wasn’t wearing his glasses “What the hell?” He whispered to himself as Ranala walked towards him.   

“Good morning, Harry, I see you’ve already discovered your improved eyesight” she said with a sharp smile  

“Uh, yeah, how? I thought the ritual was only supposed to fix my bones” Harry asked confused.   

“Correct, the ritual only fixed your bones, but once you rather quickly fell asleep, I returned to you and decided that I should put a few drops of corrective potion to your eyelids. The potion requires that you keep your eyes closed for 7 hours after application. I usually recommend sleeping through it anyway as it is mildly irritating to the eyeballs and deeper optic nerves. Do you feel any residual itching or pain?” She asked professional mask now back in place.  

“No, I don’t think so, though I don’t think the potion fully worked?” Harry said realising that Ranala was once again a bit blurry now she had gotten closer.   

“Hm, interesting, the potion would have resolved any issues caused by the curse scar and what dwelt within it. Let me check something” Ranala said, as she grabbed a piece of parchment, and formed a ball of light in her hand that glowed a pale blue.  

“Close your eyes please Harry” she asked. Harry did so, and he felt her palm being pressed against his forehead accompanied by a subtle warmth that pushed on his eyelids   

“Ah, I see” Ranala spoke to herself “You may open your eyes Harry” she said. When harry did he saw her looking at the parchment before shooting a quick glance at him.  

“Well, the potion is doing all it can, there is still a small bit of work left for it to do, but there should be no irritation or pain. It is likely that you will still require glasses as you still have mild hyperopia, approximately +0.85 dioptre to be precise, but I believe that it is an inherited condition and thus beyond the scope of the potion to fix. Regardless, this is still an improvement, and there are rituals that can be done to grant perfect vison and more, but I would council you to allow yourself to reach the end of your growth first, at least 20 years of age” She finished   

“Why 20 years old?” Harry asked, irritated that he’d still need glasses, even if his sight was miles better than it was.   

“Rituals that grant permanent characteristics typically make the object they change static in nature, in this case if you gave yourself mage sight through a ritual, which would indeed fix your eyes and grant you perfect sight and more. It would also freeze them to the size and shape you and they are now. You still have significant axial growth left to go, you do not want to be left with a child's eyes in a man’s body” she warned  

Harry gulped, that did not sound nice at all, at least he knew that the option was there in the end and Ranala was right, the change he could see already was massive. Ranala handed him his glasses broken frame and all,   

“I’ve altered the glass to fit your eyes, though again I am no specialist, visit an oculist in Diagon, I believe there is a decent one in Horizonte Alley” She spoke   

A though came to Harry, as he tried to glance at his watch, it was broken, he knew but he had a habit of putting it on whenever he left the house or his dorm in Hogwarts. His watch must have gotten broken in the Chamber, but with tempus available to him and reparo not delicate enough to repair the fine insides of his old, battered watch, he’d never gotten around to getting rid of it.   

“Ranala, what time is it, and can I use my wand down here” harry asked cautiously   

Her eyebrows peaked up a little when he mentioned wand use, “It is 8:30am, you slept for nearly 13 hours last night, and I would advise against wand use here. We are shielded by Gringotts so the ministry will not detect it, but the Goblin Nation prohibits the use of non-contracted Wixen using their wands without express permission” She said sternly “but, I've received word that you may call your house elf to assist you and bring you sustenance more to your liking and a change of clothes”   

Harry replied with his thanks for everything which she waved off and he called for Dobby.   

Dobby quickly appeared with a quiet pop, he’d gotten better at appearing without a deafening crack Harry thought. The first few times the elf had tried after bonding to Harry sounded like a gun going off.  

“Master Harry sirs, is you being alrights?, Dobby be ever so worrieds when you not come back like Mr. Dudley last night” Dobby wailed as he rushed to Harry’s bedside.  

“I’m alright Dobby, a lot of things came to light yesterday. I sort of fainted after a bit of news, well a lot of news dropped all at once.” He said placatingly to the increasingly frantic elf.  

“Is you be needing anything Master Harrys sir? Dobby be gettings you anything you needs, is the goblinses be treating you right? Does Dobby needs to be fighting the goblins?” Dobby continued eyes darting around the room getting into a defensive stance, eying Ranala with a surprising fierceness.  

“No, no, no” Harry said frantically, shooting a look at Ranala who looked incredulous at the little elf.  

“The goblins helped me. They let me know about a lot of things I should have known; they did a ritual to heal me and even worked up a treatment plan for me” he said trying to placate Dobby, he got his copy of the treatment plan and started to walk dobby through it. A short while later Dobby was giving his solemn promise that on his honour as a house elf, he would make sure Harry stuck to the plan.   

“One more thing Dobby” Harry started saying a little hesitantly, knowing that if he said it out loud then he wouldn’t go back on it. “I’m not going back to the Dursleys, I don’t care, I'll go anywhere else, I'll... we’ll stay on our own if we have too” Harry felt a surprising amount of relief after saying it out loud, knowing that if he had his way, they’d have to force him back.   

“Dobby, understands Master Harry, Dobby be getting your things, so nasty relatives are not getting their mitts on them” Dobby was about to click his fingers to depart, but turned “What will Dobby be doing about Missy Hedwig. Dobby should be bringing her here?” He asked   

Harry didn’t know, to be honest with himself he was sort of making this up as he went along, which even he needed to admit wasn’t a good idea. He was up against Dumbledore here, since the headmaster seemed to be the one that was dead set on making sure he went back there, but that was because of the Wards, right? Since they were gone now surely he’d let Harry go somewhere else? But his thoughts had strayed from the point. What was he going to do about Hedwig, from the newspaper he’d read yesterday, that Ron and the Weasleys would be going off to Egypt soon so he couldn’t send her there.  

“Tell Hedwig to head to Hermione Dobby. I’ll write a note to send to her, make sure you pack up package of owl treats for Hedwig to send along as well.” He asked to which Dobby nodded before popping away and quickly returning with Harry’s trunk, birdcage and an irate Hedwig who immediately launched to his shoulder and began lightly pecking him on the head, twittering away.   

“I know, I know girl” Harry said trying to placate his first friend   

“I got a bit hurt is all, I’m going to send you to Hermione, she’ll look after you for me for a bit okay” he told her. She fussed over him for a bit and gave him a scrutinising glare before relenting as Dobby came over with a sheet of parchment, Harry’s favourite self-inking quill and a bed tray, filled with a light breakfast.   

Dear Hermione   

I know you palmed me that note full of your contact details before you let go of me at the train station. But I don’t think I need them yet. But I am leaving the Dursley's. I did what Neville told me a few weeks ago, and a lot of things have come up. But most importantly it made me realise that I can't stay there anymore. More importantly I don’t need to stay there anymore. I don’t want to say anything more in a letter. But I'm safe at the moment, but I need you to look after Hedwig for a bit, not for too long though, I know you must have plans for the summer. When you need too, send her back to me. There should be a package of owl treats in there for her, and I’ll pay you back for anything else. Feel free to have her take some letters for you.  

Thank you, Hermione for always being such a good friend, it means the world to me.  

Take care and I'll see you soon   

Best Wishes   

Harry  

Harry tied the note to Hedwig's leg and attached the package of owl treats   

“Head to Hermione girl, and be good for her yeah?” he said quietly   

Hedwig nipped Harry’s finger affectionately before hopping onto Dobby’s outstretched arm, the two promptly vanished with a crack of Dobby’s fingers.   

----  

Sitting quietly for just a moment, realising that he’d just taken a big step, before giving himself a soft slap on the cheek, “No need to mope about” he told himself before taking in the breakfast dobby had gotten him.  

Harry had no idea where from, but it did look delicious. A simple cheese omelette, with some toast and jam, tea and orange juice. He made to grab the cutlery and dig in before Ranala cleared her throat and held out a half pint sized blue glass bottle in one hand and a small ampule sized bottle of a clear golden liquid in the other.   

“The first of your nutrition potions, and an appetite enhancement draught, if you’d remember your regimen they are taken before you break your fast in the morning” she said sternly.   

Harry took the bottles and took the stopper from the small one first quickly swallowed the contents. The taste was to say the least, unique and peculiar. The first thing harry thought was bitter, like biting an unripe fruit, but with an earthy rocky undertone, like licking a mossy stone.   

Taking the stopper from the blue potion, wanting to get this over with thinking it couldn’t be worse than the last one, he started to chug it. The taste of the nutrition potion was nothing short of unpalatable, the bitterness hit him first, and it lingered seemingly clinging to his tastebuds stubbornly. The most disconcerting part was that it had a texture despite being a thin liquid, almost like chewing on a mixture of bitter herbs and burnt coffee grounds, not to mention the strange metallic aftertaste.  

Fighting the urge to throw the disgusting concoction back up, he grabbed the orange juice on his tray to try and wash away the horrible taste. He had to take two of those per day! He shivered thinking about it, supressing an idle thought about medicine tasting bad so it could do good out of his mind so it wouldn’t piss him off more.  

Letting the aftertaste vanish he started on his breakfast properly and saw that Dobby had returned and was across the room speaking with Ranala, probably about his treatment, and that dobby was soaking all the information Ranala was giving him.   

As Harry finished his breakfast, Dobby had gotten out his blue robes, and cleaned and straightened them with a few brushes of magic.   

“I’ve put together two weeks' worth of potions for you, your elf has them, I'll add it to your bill and once you’re done and dressed, I'll take you to Axehand, he’s cleared the day for you.” she said from across the room   

“Bill?” Harry said worry clear in his tone   

“Yes, for the night in hospital, mostly for the ritual, not cheap those things. Don’t worry, I cleared it with Axehand he says that it's already been paid with no problem” Ranala said reassuringly as she pulled a curtain around Harry’s bed to let him change.  

Harry quickly pulled on the worn blue robes and found they didn’t quite fit him as well anymore, it’d only been a few weeks since he worn them so he couldn’t have grown that much, or had the charms just faded finally and shrunk down he pondered?   

“Dobby?”   

“Yes Master Harry’s sir”   

“Have the charms on this robe finally given out?” He asked curiously   

“Hmm, Dobby not thinking so...oh master Harrys you is taller nows, by 3 inches”   

“Three?” Harry asked surprised before hearing a voice from the other side of the curtain   

“When your bones were regrown, they were also realigned. There was some minor curvature to your spine that’s been straightened. Some compression that has now been alleviated since there is no longer a badly healed fissure in your collar bone; add in the properly healed lower bones being vanished and regrown and you get an increase.” Ranala’s voice sounded out from beyond the curtains  

“I’m not surprised that all that has built up to a significant increase in height. Not to mention we are just starting treatment for your Malnourishment, you’ll still likely be shorter that you could have been, but none the less getting the nutrients now will likely boost any growth spurts you are yet to have.” Ranala spoke in her evenly toned healer voice.  

“Now ready? Good, follow me to Axehand, and pray to whatever deity is popular with Wix these days that I'll not have to see you for anything serious again soon. Though if you need anything urgently you have permission to send your elf, or a letter.” She added tone turning warmer at the end.  

Dobby disapperated with Harry’s belongings after telling Harry that he’d keep them safe until he needed them. Harry then found himself being led through the labyrinthian corridors of Gringotts once more, the two took a golden elevator into dark wood corridors that looked a lot more familiar. Ranala left him outside a door with a farewell, but not before pressing a dark red bottle into his hands.  

“Blood replenisher, just in case. I’m still quite certain that the amount of blood you spilt from yourself yesterday was a major reason you passed out. The blood from yesterday will be useless now so you’ll need to give more. Go on don’t keep your account manager waiting, may your enemies fall before you Heir Potter” She finished solemnly before turning and leaving down the wood panelled corridor.   

Harry turned and hesitated momentarily before knocking on the door, the familiar but still harsh voice of Axehand replied   

“Come”   

Harry turned the brass handle and entered the room and found that it was a different room than yesterdays. The other one must have been a standard meeting room. This however must be Axehand’s own office.  

Axehand his features etched with what seemed like centuries of experience, was sat behind a mahogany desk that seemed as ancient and splendid as the bank itself. The desk was adorned with intricate carvings that harry couldn’t even begin to guess the meaning of. The room itself was bathed in a soft, golden light emanating from the ornate chandeliers hanging from a high and intricately painted ceiling.  

 The walls were adorned with tapestries which Harry with an excited gasp realised that they chronicled the Potter family lineage. Each thread painstakingly woven with precision to depict his long-gone ancestors. The tapestries seemed to watch over the room, their eyes following Harry’s every move as he entered. In one corner of the office, a massive bookshelf reached from floor to ceiling, lined with dusty tomes and scrolls containing generations’ worth of financial records, account ledgers and contracts.   

“Ahh Heir Potter well met and may your vaults ever grow” Axehand spoke from behind his desk with a small head bow.   

“Good morning Axehand, I hope you are well” Harry said, trying to be formal, but from the smirk on Axehand’s face he was not doing a great job of it.   

“Well enough, Harry, how are you, seems you’ve had a rough night eh?” Axehand replied.   

“You could say that, that ritual was something, I've never felt or seen anything like it” he said a bit of awe present in his voice.  

“The goblin ritual masters are experts at their craft, I must say their work has already had an effect, you seem more proper if you don’t mind me saying. You stand taller, there is more of a presence about you know you are not weighted down by old injuries” Axehand spoke, fixing Harry with an appraising look that seemed a little like a jeweller finding a stone he’d thought was quartz but might turn out to be something more valuable.  

“Come take a seat” Axehand continued motioning to Harry to take a seat opposite him across the desk, which he promptly did finding these chairs far more comfortable than the ones in the meeting room.   

“Now then Harry, where were we, we discussed your titles, so our next steps will be for you to claim the Potter and Black rings, Lord and Heir respectively, as well as claim the signets of Gryffindor and Slytherin. I have taken the liberty of having the rings brought up from the vault.”   

He reached below his desk and muttering a short phase in gobbledegook, that can’t be what the language is called Harry thought to himself idly as there was a click of a draw lock opening. What followed were three wooden boxes being placed onto the desk, two bore an intricate coat of arms, while the third, was a cream-coloured wood that held an intricated carving of a snake above strange cursive writing.   

Axehand pushed the redwood box over to him first, and Harry saw the coat of arms that he had seen tooled into the leather satchel that he saw Axehand summon the previous day, he now realised it must be his Coat of Arms.   

A silver stag stood at its centre stood on a hill, antlers proudly reaching towards the sky. Around the stag billowed a midnight blue cloak adorned with a pattern of stars that formed a constellation harry didn’t recognise. Emerging from the hill below the stage, intricate vines and thorns wove a protective barrier. Beneath the emblem a scroll banner unfurled with the words " Vigilantia et Honor, cavete tenebras, Servire omnibus " Harry stared at the Coat of Arms for a while simply drinking in that this symbol was a part of him, represented him, and all those who came before him.   

“Offer the Coat of arms a single drop of blood to open the box” Axehand spoke softly almost reverently.  

Harry drew his knife and lightly nicked a finger before allowing a drop of blood to fall on the crest. The blood vanished as soon as it touched the stag, its sliver coat seeming to gleam, the banner beginning to flutter in non-existent wind the stars upon it glittering. There was a click and the lid opened silently revealing the ring.   

It was an exquisite piece of jewellery. Crafted from gleaming white gold, an intricate engraving set upon the flat face of a faceted red gem. A miniature version of the coat of arms engraved upon it, but with an added detail of a triangle with a line through its centre as a backdrop. The band of the ring was adorned with a Celtic knotwork design which circled it entirely, the motto carved between its vines letter by letter.   

“Place it on your left hand, left most finger” Axehand said, Harry barely registering Axehand’s presence and following his instincts, gingerly lifting the ring from its bed of soft red velvet, and slowly placing it on his finger. There was a pulse of magic sharp as something bit into his finger, and everything went black.   

Chapter Text

An inky black smoke swirled around Harry as he snapped head back and forth trying to make some sense of where he was. The last thing he remembered was the sharp pain of the Potter Lord ring testing his magic before everything went black. Slowly the swirl of black smoke surrounding him fell away revealing an unending dark void in every direction. Looking down Harry saw that he was standing on something, a black glass-like substance that seemed to shimmer with a soft golden flourish with every shift of his feet.   

From behind him he heard the crackling of a fire, and a voice, deep and rich broke the silence.   

“James?” it said warmly before stopping short in shock.  

Whirling around to meet the noise a strange sight met him, in the middle of this seemingly endless void stood a grand fireplace, carvings of marble stags stretching across the enormous fireplace. A red and golden rug lay spread out before it, the warm firelight catching the threads, beacons of light in this void. Despite the strangeness Harry’s eyes were locked on to the two large wingback chairs that were angled to catch the light of the fire, or more specifically, the figure that sat in one of the chairs.   

He was an older man, once dark hair turned to salt and pepper, short and slicked back. Rectangular glasses sat on his nose and his eyes were drawn wide open in shock.   

“Harry?” the man barely whispered, yet the utterance seemed to reverberate around the empty void.    

Harry didn’t know why but he felt strangely comfortable in this void, and with this stranger. He took a step forward the light from the fireplace beginning to reach him.   

“Merlin, it really is you isn’t it? Harry, oh my lad..., then James... James didn’t survive the war” the man spoke emotion and heartbreak coursing through his voice. The man stood from his chair and hesitantly stepped forward the firelight now illuminating him fully, He was tall, Harry thought, and as he looked at the man, he started to pick out features on face that he recognized from the mirror and in photos of his father.   

“Come in to the light cariad, let me get a proper look at you” The man said a sad smile creasing his cheeks.   

Harry stepped into the light fully and looked up at the man who stared back, Harry could see tears form at the edge of the old man’s eyes, the man got onto one knee in front of him.   

“You look like so much like your dad when he was your age” The man spoke softly “But your eyes, oh those eyes are all your mam’s” The man seemed to recognise that Harry seemed to be confused by the whole situation he’d found himself in, his expression grew even more morose.   

“My name is Charlus, Harry. I was your grandfather” He said warmly, reaching out and placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder.  

Harry stood there, trying to comprehend yet another strange situation he’d found himself in, the last thing he’d properly remembered was putting on the ring in Axehand’s office and now he was here?   

“What’s going on? How am I here? How are you Here? Your supposed to be dead” Harry spoke cautiously. A look of amusement flashed across Charlus’s features cutting the melancoly.   

“You just put on the Potter Lordship ring, yes?” Charlus asked with a small chuckle, Harry nodded.   

“This is the transfer; The Potter/Peverell Family magic has built up a great deal in the several millennia we have been about. There are... some secrets that must be told when the lordship is transferred. So, when the current lord dies without passing on the ring to their heir, then the magic of the ring captures a very small part of the Lord's essence so that they can pass on any knowledge that is in danger of being lost. It’s a very similar but more... complicated way that magical portraits work, when you put the ring on and it accepts you, you are brought here.” Charlus explained evenly  

“So, you really are my... my grandfather?” Harry asked a little stunned, and a little cautious, it reminded him a lot of the diary, but he didn’t get the subtle feeling of threat he did when he talked to tom.   

“Sort of, yes, I am” Charlus replied with a warm smile and motioned for harry to take the other chair.   

“When I died” Charlus began settling into his own chair, the chair fit him, Harry thought, like he belonged there, Harry felt like he was being swallowed by his own identical one.  

“I knew I would be brought here to await the next lord. I thought it would have been James. I have so many questions, how long has it been? How did James die?” Charlus asked voice thick with emotion   

“Halloween 1981” Harry whispered “Voldemort attacked them in Godric’s Hollow, he killed Mum and Dad, He tried to kill me too, but he failed, and he disappeared for a while” Harry said quietly   

Charlus looked heartbroken when harry mentioned his parents “So they passed a few months after us then.” he stared into the strange dancing flames of the fireplace before continuing “You lived with Alice and Frank then? Or with Sirius?”   

Harry softly shook his head, “No with Mum’s sister. Nevile’s mum and dad were attacked not long after, and my godfather, that’s complicated” Harry stalled trying to figure out how he could describe what happened to his supposed godfather from the little he knew.  

“Something happened to Mr. Black, lots of people think that he’s the one who betrayed my Mum and Dad, and then there were a lot of muggles killed, and his other friend Peter was also killed. He was sent to Azkaban” Harry said quickly   

Charlus looked shocked and confused “Nonsense” he declared “Sirius would have died before betraying James, I don’t believe it” he said firmly, his conviction in this mysterious Sirius Black ironclad.  

“I only found out about him a few days ago, but the Goblins said that because he took a Godfather oath in blood, then there's no way he could have betrayed me” Harry said a with little bit of hope that he might have someone still in the real world that cared for him burgeoning slightly.  

Charlus nodded his head with a small sad smile “They’re right, he couldn’t have, I would believe so even without the oath. The boy lived with us after his fourth year. He and James were brothers in all but blood and cousins in blood.” His eyebrows furrowed then  

“But did you say, you lived with Lily’s sister? I don’t like to speak ill of people but from the way Lily spoke of her...” Charlus added a little incredulous, a grim expression hiding in the corners of his eyes.  

Harry nodded, before speaking “Dumbledore put me on the steps of her house a few days after mum and dad... died, and I lived there ever since. Didn’t know I was magical until I was 11 they never told me, the headmaster said I would be protected there and made me go back after the end of every school year, but I don’t think those protections are there anymore, I think I broke them.” Harry shrugged.  

Charlus meanwhile looked thunderous, he got to his feet and began to pace back and forth on the rug Infront of the fireplace, furiously muttering to himself, from the little Harry could make out it was not flattering to Dumbledore. After a short while, he stopped, and returned to his chair, shooting harry an apologetic glance before turning to him with a warm expression as he asked, almost begged   

“Tell me about yourself, I never thought I would get to meet my grandson all grown up... you were so small the last I saw you”   

Harry didn’t know what hit him the most, the nearly pleading expression on his grandfather's face or the soft warm tone of his voice when he asked. Harry felt tears begin to build, and his voice got scratchy and threatened to catch in his throat, but he started to talk about himself.   

He told about discovering that he was a wizard, and he didn’t gloss over his time growing up with the Dursley’s either; he felt strangely comfortable talking to what was essentially a stranger to him. But the warmth and familiarity that seemed to resonate between them let him talk. He talked about his first journey into Diagon and the sheer wonder he’d felt when he held his wand for the first time.   

He talked about meeting Ron on the train and how quickly they became friends, He talked about Hermione and how he saved her from the troll, he even talked about how he felt a bit bad for thinking bad about Ron at the time, and for his part in making Hermione feel so bad about herself that she locked herself in a stall all day. He even talked about how he felt when he realised that Ron hadn’t gone with him because he went straight for his big brother the Prefect, who then got help from the teachers.  

It felt like he’d must have talked for hours about Quidditch, Snape, the terrible dark arts teachers he’d had. How much he enjoyed Transfiguration this year. He talked about Quirrell and the Stone, the Chamber of Secrets and the Basilisk. Harry felt lighter and lighter every moment he spent talking about it all, he’d never had a chance to talk about his year or years at school before, not like this, to family that cared.   

Charlus drank it all in, asking the occasional question or cheering or clapping with a massive smile on his face when harry described a catch in quidditch or a particularly good spell. Harry could still tell though when something shocked him, his cheeks would go taught and his eyes wide as Harry described the Third Floor, or the Troll or the Basilisk.   

“Emry’s eyes. You have been through a lot my lad, for your age. To slay a Basilisk. While it terrifies me to learn that you’ve had to do so. I am so proud, and I know your parents would be too, when they’d finished throttling you for putting yourself into such a situation that is.” He finished with a stern look but barely hiding the pride behind it.  

“But I am certain now, that you will make a fine, no a phenomenal Lord Potter, even if you are only to be a Lord Apparent for now.”   

“So what do we do now?” Harry asked,   

“Now I tell you a story” Charlus spoke “Of the house of Potter, what we stand for and what we would fight and die for, of the principles that will be your job to try and hold” Charlus said, seriousness creeping into his tone   

“In this country there are seven families, The Longbottom's, The Olivander's, The Bones, The Nott’s, The Greengrass’s, The Black’s and The Potters. Three for the light, Three for the Dark and us in the middle. Our seven families have long histories, these families have lived and died in these isles for over two thousand years. Though we have not always been Potters, we were once the Peverell’s.” He started to speak, leaning back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other.  

“Before the Roman conquest we believe we each held small kingdoms, with Magical and non-magical living together. When the Romans came with their legions, we fought, but the might of Rome proved too much. The Seven clans as they were known back then, started to mimic the fashion of Rome and formed houses. Rome receded and fell in time, but not without leaving their mark on our isles. And from the fading ashes of Rome rose a new kingdom, one that has fallen to myth and legend for the non-magical and is practically lost to history to Wixenkind. The Kingdom of Albion, of Camelot.” Charlus paused a moment leaving the reverence he’d infused into his words linger in the air between them.  

“The seven families served in the courts for a time” He continued “Until Uther Pendragon, a Squib took the throne and fearing the power of magic that he could not wield, He set the kingdom against those that help found it.”   

Harry was transfixed on his grandfather's words, Camelot was real? Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table? He knew merlin was real but wasn’t merlin much later?   

“Those that could wield magic hid their talents, and our families hid our names to avoid being brought to extinction on Uther’s pyres. Until a son, born of magic with the help of Nimueh, a priestess of the Greengrass’s, was born to Uther. Arthur Pendragon, Son of Uther, Son of Ygraine, Ygraine Peverell.”   

Harry felt the information hit him like a hammer blow, Charlus paused letting Harry process this before continuing.  

“And so rose the legend of the King of Kings, the protector of the Realm and Lord of Camelot; there was a golden age. But it would last. For dissent was abroad in the land, The last of the Dragonlords was slain by dark powers, and Old Black Magic set its sights on the city of kings.” His voice practically a whisper now, as his expression turned dark.  

“Agents of Chaos and darkness wormed into the ranks of the seven, Morgana La Fey of Chief of the Blacks fell to temptation, wrath and revenge, she was beguiled and tricked, and forced into being hated for her own natural darker magic. Her half-sister, and her son Morgause and Mordred who had the allegiance of the Greengrass’s and Kara a druidess of the Nott’s and lover of Mordred believed the lies they were fed and sought to wage war.”   

“But all were deceived, a cult had set its sights on Camelot and desired to see it brought to ruin, a cult worshiping Dark Gods and Goddesses had wormed its way into society pulling strings and twisting fates to bring this war to fruition. The Potters, The Peverell's we were called at that time, called our bannermen and knights from the Longbottom's and The Bones and we marched to war not knowing that both sides were being twisted. Years of blood followed, famine and pestilence ravaged the lands, until it started to come to light that things were not as they seemed.”   

Harry was gripped by his grandfather's tale, it was fantastical, straight out of legend and myth, but Harry could feel it in his heart and magic, that every word was true.   

“Strange occurrences even for wixen kind were found. Entire villages were slaughtered on altars with vile and dark symbols, offerings to the Morrigan, to Set, Lilith, and Balor. Both armies began to discover such things. The Pendragon forces were worried, but Arthur believed that even if she wished him dead, his half-sister Morgana a lifelong devotee of Hecate, could never stoop so low. He took a chance, and sent a messenger, informing Morgana of what he’d found. Morgana herself would never have believed that Arthur could have done such things. She realised what had happened after praying to Hecate. Realised the rot at the core of her own camp and purged it and went alone into Arthur's camp to beg forgiveness. Arthur against council from his knights and banner men, forgave her, for he had always loved her dearly.”   

“What remained of the two camps merged, and together faced the true foe at Camlann, where devotees of the Balor had attempted to start a horrific ritual to tear reality and allow abominations to step forth into our world. We were successful but barely and the losses were great. Mordred was dead, Morgana wounded, and Arthur was dying. Each of the houses came together, they knew that Camelot could not continue as it was, that too much devastation had been wrought all across Albion. Too many people cursed the city of Camelot that had been the centre for so much suffering and loss. Spat upon the name Pendragon, and even dying Arthur knew that Camelot would always be a target for such dark machinations. He ordered that Camelot must be laid to rest. So, the seven came together to cast a massive spell, that would remove all mention of Camelot from the minds of all non-magical folk and make it far less important in the minds of magical’s. Arthur was borne to Avalon, Morgana by his side, and Merlin Emrys cast the spell, and so Camelot, Arthur faded from memory, becoming legend and myth to the muggles. The stones of Camelot were unwound and buried.”   

“Apologies about the manner of speech, my own father made me memorise it as he was told, sounds like a history book, no?” Charlus chuckled “There's a little more so bear with me” he said before thinking as if recalling something “After the battle of Camlann, the seven families came to realise just how dangerous the world was, there had been Dark Lords before of course, but never like this, an organised cabal of true Black Mages, attempting to work old black magic on a massive scale. So, the Families swore an oath, to never allow such things to happen again for as long as they exist.”   

“You see there are magics beyond Light and Dark, Light and Dark are a part of the balence of the world, they are natural. But we Potter’s, and all the Seven Families vowed to stand against the true threats. For It is those that seek to learn the Black Artes, that you must fear, Necromancy, Soul Magic, Demon Summoning, Communing and speaking with the eldritch that slumber beyond the walls of reality in the hope of seeking power. Or those that delve too deep into magics past, and seek The White Scripture, fragments of magic that come from the old world, that tap into powers that Wixen were never meant to wield.” Charlus spoke gravely and winced before seeing the look of fear on Harry’s face.   

“I’m sorry I must lay these words upon you Cariad, you are far too young. But do not worry, they are not your responsibility yet. When you are older, more powerful, then you can turn to look at such things. I simply cannot pass on the ring until these things are spoken of. The Potter Grimoire contains a record of our family, read it when you can it will give you context. then glance over the spells that are in its second half, though perhaps do not attempt to cast any for a few years.” He said with a wry grin.  

Harry tried to process everything that his grandfather had said. The history, powers lost to time! Black Magic and spells so powerful that they needed to stay lost. His grandfathers' words did calm him from the mild panic that had been growing in him as he listened to his warning, and the trust he felt, the warmth and look of love he saw in his grandfather's eyes calmed him greatly, he’d try to put it out of his mind for now.    

Desperately searching for something to think about that wasn’t the fact that demon summoning existed, as panic inducing as that was. He landed on his grandfather's stance on light and dark magic He’d heard whispers about certain families before, and he’d heard more than his fair share of insults about being “Dark” when it was found out that he was a Parseltounge.  

“But what does Light and Dark mean?”   

“Well, Certain with family lines and with some individual witches and wizards their magic naturally leans towards the either side of the spectrum, While the Longbottom's, Bones and Olivander's lean towards the light, The Nott’s, The Greengrass’s and the Blacks lean towards the Dark. But dark magic isn’t inherently bad. Magic is all about intent, what you intend to do with a spell. When I still lived the Ministry of Magic had already started to interfere with their so called “Classification of Spells”” Charlus huffed indignantly “Your schooling up until now would likely have rested on using Light and Neutral spells according to the ministry at least, do you know the Cutting Curse?” He asked neutrally taking on a teaching tone, Harry nodded that he had.  

“Then you have learned a typically Dark Spell” he said with a small grin “what is commonly called “The Dark Arts” by the ministry, is often spell work or rituals that they have decided to ban because they believe it too powerful, and the Ministry likes to be the ones with power. After all they permit their own Auror’s and Hit wizards to learn supposed “Banned” spells to allow them to do their jobs. Merlin at one point in the war the ministry authorised the use of the Unforgivables, three spells that would earn anyone else who cast them a one-way ticket to Azkaban.”   

“So, Dark wizards are, okay?” Harry asked utterly confused and feeling himself getting a little angry.  

“You are confusing the point a little, but yes Dark Witches and Wizards should be allowed to practice their innate magics, so long as they do not infringe on the rights of others. The Issue is that over the past few centuries there have been an unfortunate number Dark Arts practicioners that lose themselves in dark magic. Just because dark magic is natural doesn’t mean that it is not dangerous. Nor the fact that people with no limits even start to investigate forbidden arts. They lash out, commit atrocities and must be put down.” Charlus said passionately.  

“The Potters have long accepted that there must be balance. For we Potters are not Light, we are Grey, we learn both, so we have the tools to defend others, we are the war mages of old, when a Potter war party took to the field our enemies ran or died.” he said seriously, reverently and confidently as if he had experienced that himself.   

The concept baffled harry and it obviously showed on his face. But the more he thought about it the more he found himself wanting to agree. He was woefully unprepared to face a Basilisk it was sheer dumb luck and Fawkes that he was even alive today, and he had started to look in the school library for more spells, just in case he got into another situation like that again, and he couldn’t deny he’d been tempted to try and sneak into the Restricted section to find more powerful if darker spells. But the part of his grandfather’s speech that he really liked, was the bit about defending others. Hermione after she’d learned about him running off to the chamber after Ginny had been taken; with only Ron and a wandless Lockheart as backup had said he’d had a bit of a saving people thing. He couldn’t deny it either, if someone was in trouble and he could so something to help, he would.  

“Are you okay Harry?” Charlus asked breaking the eerie silence of whatever this place was.   

Harry nodded before speaking quietly “Yeah, you’ve just given me a lot to think about”   

“I know the feeling; I felt the same after my father gave me this very same talk” Charlus gave a small smile   

“Do you have any questions?”   

Merlin did Harry have questions, Harry’s biggest problem at that point was deciding which one to ask first but he eventually settled on one   

“What did you mean by the Potters are Grey?” He asked   

“Ah, a good one. It has to do with an individual’s magical core” Charlus began to explain before seeing a confused look on Harry’s face, he let out a sigh, “Let me guess, the basic magical theory is no longer taught at Hogwarts” He guessed   

“Well, we’re taught spell theory” Harry said feeling a little defensive.    

“No, basic magical theory isn’t spell work, it's how we as Wixen cast magic, the gift that we are granted as Witches and Wizards. Starting at the beginning, every Wix has a magical core, it's not a physical thing, but it is the place within that we gather and concentrate magic. It’s had many descriptions, a pool, a ball or a crystal, but each Wix depending on their family, or in some cases by chance, have a predisposition to certain types of magic.   

To use the families as examples, the Longbottom’s are famous for producing powerful Wix that have a natural predisposition to be born with light magical cores, and someone with a light core will have a much easier time learning magic from the Neutral and Light branches of magic but will struggle if they attempt to learn Dark Arts. Whereas the Black Family, have nearly always produced Wix with Dark Magical core’s meaning they have an easier time learning Dark and Neutral magics, and will struggle with Light Magic, there are always exceptions to the norm however, a light wix born to a traditionally dark family, or vice versa.   

 Returning to our family, we are typically born with Neutral core, and I can feel that you certainly have a Neutral core” he said motioning to Harry   

“And as a result, we can learn both Light, Dark and Neutral with no penalty, but without the advantages that having a biased core gives. Potters do have one advantage though; our magical cores are denser than average, allowing us to store more magic, and push a great deal more power into our spells. It comes in handy in battle.”   

“So, we are more powerful and aren’t limited by the types of spells we cast?” Harry asked earning a nod of approval from his grandfather, he thought of his next question and immediately remembered the term “War mage” and asked about it   

“Ah, yes, it’s an old term, the Potter’s, partly due to our dense cores and diversity in our spell casting made a name for ourselves as being deadly on the field of battle. During the Grindelwald campaign, I led a small strike force consisting of myself, my two brothers, an uncle and my cousin. We were a force to be reckoned with, by the time the war reached its height, Grindelwald’s forces often tried to run from us if we took the field” Charlus let his voice trail off at the end of that statement, the finality and grave tone of voice gave Harry pause, and made him think that his grandfather didn’t let the ones who ran get away.   

“We have wandered far from the proper topics for this meeting, and I can feel our time running out” Charlus said sadness colouring his voice at the look of dismay that broke out on Harry’s face at the thought of leaving the first Family member he’d ever met. There were so many more things that Harry wanted to ask him, what was his dad like when he was Harry’s age, Did Charlus have any stories about his Mum, what was his Gran like. But before Harry could Charlus raised a hand.   

“I know lad, I don’t want this to end either, but it must, there is no magic that can keep death at bay forever that I would ever deign to use.” Charlus sighed deeply.   

“So, I will try to tell you as much as I can, Firstly, Potter Manor is located at the foothills of Mynydd Du in the Brecon Beacons in Wales. Have the Goblins clear and arrange for cleaning of the manor first, There was something strange about the Dragon Pox that killed me, it was too potent and killed too quick. Secondly, you can always summon two things from the Potter Ring, and they will never be lost to you. The Potter Grimoire and Staff. Third, reunite with the other families, each of them has their own histories and purpose and I hope that they have stuck to them. But by oath should true darkness begin to rise, they must follow our house against it. And finally, my grandson, learn, train and practice, find good allies and even better friends. Find the strength within you, that I know is there. Make the world remember that a Potter should never be taken lightly.” Charlus said firmly but so much warmth and pride, a fire glowing in his blue eyes.   

Harry rushed out of his chair as his grandfather stood, crashing into him, arms around the old man’s chest as he felt Charlus grip him in a firm hug. Harry felt hot tears fall onto his face as the smoke returned, wanting nothing more than to stay here a little while longer. But as the smoke whirled around him his surroundings began to change, but not before he heard a voice call out as if from a great distance now. “And never forget, I, your Grandmother Dorea, your Mum and Dad, loved you before you even drew breath. We will be with you Harry, always”   

Harry found himself staring at the Celtic band of the Potter Ring. Tears flowing freely from his face, the last words of his grandfather echoing in his ears and the ghost of the hug still clinging to him.   

“Lord Potter... Harry?” a voice filled with gravel intoned.    

Harry shook his head chasing away the longing of wanting to return to that non space and see his grandfather again and found himself sitting in Axehand’s office.   

“Lord Potter? Are you quite alright” Axehand asked again concern lacing his tone.  

Harry could see that Axehand was agitated.   

“I’m okay, I think” Harry spoke, not surprised to hear his voice choked with emotion “That was...” He continued, feeling a warmth from the ring and spread up his arm like a hand gently wrapping around it in comfort, which only made harry want to cry more.    

Axehand stood and made his way over to a small table at the back of the room for a few minutes, before returning with two porcelain cups, one of which he placed in front of Harry.   

“Take all the time you need, youngling” Axehand muttered in the softest tone Harry thought a Goblin could be capable of. He took the cup and inhaled the vapour deeply, Rockmint tea again, harry had to admit, the tea was growing on him.  

Taking a few sips and trying not to look at Axehand who was busying himself behind his desk and trying to give Harry some privacy as he grounded himself and calmed himself down.  

It took Harry a while, he didn’t want to use his basic Occlumency for this, Occlumency was a defence, he didn’t want to be protected from this feeling of loss, this bittersweet feeling of love that he’d felt for the briefest of moments as he’d hugged his grandfather. After fifteen minutes, he’d managed to get himself under some semblance of control, focusing on the love not the loss. He finished his tea and turned back to Axehand   

“I’m Sorry Axehand” he said “I wasted your time”  

“Not at all Harry, I expected this, I’ve read the reports of what occurs when a member of the Most Ancient houses takes a lordship ring. I take it you saw someone?”   

Harry nodded, “My Grandfather, I got to talk to him” he said with a watery smile   

“Then your response is understandable. Do you wish to continue?” Axehand asked motioning to the other box of ebony wood.  

“The black ring will be an heirship ring; I highly doubt it will trigger a similar response” Axehand said   

“Yes, let’s continue” Harry said, trying to summon up his strength and willpower to continue despite feeling emotionally exhausted.  

“Very well then” Axehand spoke pushing the second box across to Harry  

Inlayed on the ebony wood was another coat of arms. At the centre of the crest stood a majestic black swan, its feathers glistening with an otherworldly sheen. Surrounding the swan, a complex network of intricate runes and sigils formed a protective barrier. Emerging from beneath the swan, a pair of black serpents coiled around the crest and beneath the emblem a banner proclaiming the true family motto. “Semper Purus Semper Vigilant”   

Opening the box, set against a rich red velvet, the heir’s ring sat resplendent in its own dark beauty. It was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, much the same as the Potter ring, but where the Potter ring was forged from white gold, this was forged from a rich dark metal that reminded Harry of obsidian, it exuded an air of grandeur and authority. The Potter ring carried a subtle sense of power, but the Black heir ring, radiated it. A dark blue sapphire sat held by meticulously crafted silver claws and the band carried intricate and delicate runic engravings.   

Harry lifted the ring from the velvet and looked at Axehand who motioned for it to be placed on the left-hand middle finger just next to the Potter Lord ring. Placing it on the finger, Harry didn’t feel the warmth that the Potter ring had given off, but a sharp ice-cold pinch on his finger where the ring sat as it tested his magic. Thankfully, Harry thought things didn’t go black, in fact he was surprised to find that not much happened, not at first. The same ice-cold feeling lingered a little until it found his magic beneath the skin.   

When suddenly, Harry got the distinct feeling that he was being watched from every direction, an unknowing force of unspeakable power was gazing upon him, and for a moment Harry felt deathly afraid. The ancient Black family magic looked at every aspect of him sorting through his memories, looking at the very core of his being. Harry fearing that the magic would find him wanting, quickly reached for his rudimentary Occlumency and clamped down on the fear that was threatening to spill out of him and mentally turned to face the unseen eyes that gazed upon him.  

It felt like eons as he stood beneath the ravaging and all-knowing gaze, but he held firm and tried to push the feeling of defiance back at the gaze. Harry felt surprised and a little bit baffled when he felt a small pulse of amusement back at his defiance, and felt contentment and acceptance radiate from the ring.   

Letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his muscles relaxed, and he slumped in his chair.   

“It accepted me” Harry said shakily propping himself up in the chair and wiping the sweat that had built up on his forehead with the sleeve of his robe   

“Excellent, Lord Potter, Heir Black” Axehand gave a small head bow and gave a vicious smile, if Harry hadn’t known better, he would have thought the smile to be a threat, but having spent some time with Goblins now saw that Axehand was very pleased.   

“Now then, the matter of the Gryffindor and Slytherin symbols, the Sword of Gryffindor is the Mark of Lord Gryffindor will likely come to you if called upon, so that is settled. But the symbol of Slytherin” He paused and reached under his desk once again and lifted an arm length narrow box. It looked ancient, a pale, bone white wood with strange curling script that when harry focused he found he could understand “Legacy Forged in Cunning and Ambition” he read aloud and there was a loud click from the box.  

“Well that that settled then” Axehand chuckled “I had no idea how to open that, it seems that you needed to speak the parsel phrase inscribed on the box. Well then open it, I must admit we have no record of what the symbol of Slytherin is.”  

Harry pulled the box closer and felt the magic flowing from the now cracked lid of the box. Opening it revealed a Dagger, held in a night black sheath that seemed to drag the light into it. Harry heard a sharp intake of breath from Axehand, looking up he saw the Goblin leaning in, eyes wide as they both drank in the details of the weapon. The Hilt of the Dagger was a work of art, masterfully carved from a dark wood in the form of a coiled serpent. It culminated in a pommel that featured a dark green snake’s eye gem. The thin cross guard was made of a pale white material; Harry wasn’t sure what the guard was made of, but it eerily reminded him a lot of bone. The emblem of Slytherin house, a coiled serpent had been carved along it.  

Harry reached out and lifted the dagger by the sheath, which now he had in in his hand felt smooth. Like snakeskin he thought, and a snake that was frightfully familiar to Harry, Basilisk skin. Grasping a hand around the hilt, he pulled, and it came from the sheath easily. The blade itself was a dark grey metal with fine flowing engraving at the base, the serpents of the cross guard and on the hilt now flowing down the metal of the blade. The metal held an eerie sheen that seemed to somehow flicker inexplicably in the steady light of the office. Its shape was simple but deadly all the same, Double edged and came to fine point with a deep fuller down the centre. It felt perfectly balanced in his hand and fit as if it were made for him.   

Harry put the dagger back in the sheath and set it down on the desk.   

“A Magesteel dagger, that is a fine weapon, worth nearly as much as a Goblin made weapon I would predict” Axehand said nodding approvingly   

“I also believe the sheath is made to be worn in the small of your back. I also sense some enchantments to keep it hidden while worn, put it on, and keep it on, it is always wise to keep a backup weapon.”   

“I already have the knife you gave me though” Harry asked as he stood and tried to figure out the belt   

“That is a ritual blade, not a weapon, though in a pinch it would work obviously. A knife is a knife after all and will cut easily. But should you ever need to use it against another, never use it in a ritual again, a ritual blade should only ever taste your own blood” He chastised.   

“Oh okay then” Harry said taking Axehand’s word for it. He fiddled with the sheath as he placed it so the hilt could be grabbed by his left hand, and when it felt secure enough, he tested drawing it and putting it back, revealing the dark steel blade once more, the blade seemed guided back into the sheath when he wanted to put it away.   

“So, what is different about magesteel?” Harry asked staring at the knife captivated and realising that there were intricate folds and layers in the metal, and that each caught the light differently.  

“Magesteel is an attempt by your kind to replicate goblin steel through alchemy, a decent attempt too, seeing that blade. Goblin metal absorbs that which makes it stronger, but wixen pondered the idea of being able to change those characteristics. With a goblin blade once the substance is absorbed by the metal it is permanently bound to it, and it will never fade, but of course cannot be changed. If it takes on the characteristics of a particularly potent poison or venom the shallowest of cuts will be deadly. With Magesteel you can purge the blade of those qualities allowing you to add a new substance.” Axehand explained.  

Harry could see how that might be useful, if he added a poison too potent then he could accidently seriously hurt himself or kill someone. Perhaps he could even coat it in healing potion while he learned to use it so if...when he cut himself it would heal by itself? Confused but a little amused at the notion of a Healing knife, he put the dagger back into the sheath that was concealed underneath his outer robe. He shifted back and forth, he couldn’t feel it, not that it weighed very much but now it felt like there was nothing there.   

“Hmm, there are powerful notice-me not and hiding charms on that sheath, I'm certain of it” Axehand spoke “I know it's there since I watched you put it there, but for the life of me I cannot see any trace of it. Good, make wearing it a habit. You never know when a backup weapon will save your life.” He added seriously  

Harry sat back down in the chair, and still couldn’t feel the dagger pressing into his back despite pushing into the chair.   

“Now then, to the business we should have gotten to yesterday prior to your small fainting spell.” Axehand said, reaching for a few pieces of parchment from a draw in his desk.   

“I took the liberty of examining your current trust account, save for a draw of 200 galleons last year, and 300 the year before, there has been no activity, and your account has refilled to its maximum of 40,000 galleons each year on your birthday.” Axehand spoke in a straightforward business like manner   

Harry, meanwhile, attempted to wrangle with the notion that if his “trust” vault held up 40,000 galleons which he already considered an incredible amount of money, how much did the family vaults hold?   

“Are you in possession of the key to your vault, numbered 687 I believe?” he queried   

“Um, no, I've never had it, Hagrid had it when I came here the first time, and Mrs Weasley had it last year. I’m.. Not sure who has it now.” Harry mumbled   

Axehand gave him a disapproving glance with one eyebrow raised, before reaching back into another draw and pulling out a small silver bowl and two bars of a brass like metal.   

“Coat the bottom of the silver bowl with your blood Harry, make it half a fingernail worth deep” Axehand spoke firmly   

Harry fished around in one of his many expanded pockets to find where he’d put his ritual knife, discarding old quills and scraps of parchment until he found it. He drew it and made a shallow cut in the heel of his palm and let rivulets of crimson droplets flow into the bottom of the bowl, when there was enough. He put away the knife and watched in fascination and mild disgust as the skin on his hand slowly knit back together.   

Meanwhile, Axehand had taken the bowl of blood and placed one of the brass like bars into the bowl, and had begun to chant, deep and guttural like rockfall echoing through a small valley. There was a poof of dark red almost black smoke and from the bowl Axehand produced a small golden key, before repeating the process once again.   

Handing both keys over to Harry, Harry saw that one had stamped into the stem of the key the familiar number 687, the second key however had 498 carved into it. Harry looked at Axehand in confusion   

“The second key is for the Black heir Trust vault, its current level sitting at...” He reached for another piece of parchment, quickly reading it before continuing “100,000 galleons”   

Harry’s eyes went wide once again at the amount. Seeing this Axehand let out a gruff chuckle   

“The Potters are very wealthy, the Blacks however, have wealth bordering on obscene levels. I can’t discuss the details of the Black finances as you are only it’s Heir. Now the Potter vaults however I can discuss.”   

Harry sat deep into his chair trying to prepare himself for yet another shock, not really being able to grapple with the concept of being “Very wealthy” as Axehand had just mentioned, he’d been able to get by perfectly well on nearly 300 galleons a year for the past couple of years, having full access to his trust vault... vault’s, Harry corrected himself; almost felt like too much. And then Axehand started to describe the Potter finances.   

“Now then, The Potter Families hold three vaults at Gringotts, a currency vault, an artifact/precious item vault and a furnishing/miscellaneous vault, number’s 7, 25 and 78, respectively. The current physical count of currency assets under Gringotts's management, across all vaults is 3,684,000 Galleons, 4552 sickles and a round 5000 knuts, not including the worth of the Gem’s and artifacts which amount to rough estimate of another 2.5 million galleons. Naturally this also does not include the worth of the land that is part of the estate, nor does it cover the true financial power which lies within many patents and investments under the Potter name. But covering all of those will require a meeting another day since an up-to-date accounting has not yet been performed.” Axehand spoke evenly while shifting through a number of parchments, not realising Harry’s current state.  

Harry promptly choked on thin air and felt like he was about to pass out once again.   

Chapter Text

Harry was struggling to breathe.   

The numbers that Axehand had just spoken, simply refused to stay still in his head and were currently bouncing around the inside of his skull. He simply couldn’t understand those numbers in terms of money, money that belonged to him.  

Just harry, the small, bullied kid who used to live in a boot cupboard, was stupidly rich. He’d felt something similar when he’d first seen his trust vault, but apparently that was just a small drop in an ocean of gold. It was giving him a headache. He was breathing hard, quick and fast. Was he having a panic attack? What did a panic attack feel like, Hermione might know, he kind of wanted to see her, she was sensible. Would she have read anything about asset management? Probably, sounds like something she’d have a strange amount of knowledge on, he hoped at least.   

Harry didn’t really want to do it, but he reached for his occlumency and allowed it to settle onto the river in his mind, which was turbulent to say the least, and tried to calm himself down.   

Axehand’s office came back into to Harry's perception, he’d sort of stopped processing things for a moment as he grappled with the astounding amount of money Axehand had blasély mentioned, Merlin how much did the equal in muggle money?   

“Harry?... Lord Potter, ohh by the Carven Throne not again” Axehand muttered irritably.    

“um, here, I’m here” Harry blurted out, half thinking that he was back in class before giving Axehand a sheepish look  

 “Sorry, it's just well, the trust vault is already a lot of money to me, well its a lot to take in” he said trying to keep a hold of his emotions which were currently warring between a childlike excitement, the sheer desire to just not think about it and therefore not let it be a problem and the nearly overwhelming urge to just run away. Harry wasn’t sure which one was winning.   

“May I continue?” Axehand asked partly irritated and more than a little bit amused   

“There’s more” Harry nearly shrieked but caught himself at the last minute, managing to bring it down to a more even tone   

“Yes, that is the average monetary value of the assets under our management, including, coinage, gems, valuable relics, furniture and books, alongside other assorted items. There is a full itemised list of everything inside this” Axehand walked over to the leather satchel with the Stag crest tooled into it that was sitting on a side table, picked it up and set it on the table next to Harry.   

“You may take that with you when you leave and peruse it at your own leisure.” He spoke evenly   

“There has been a little activity starting from the 4 th of November 1981, and occurring monthly ever since, 100 galleons converted into £600 Sterling and deposited into an account under the name Petunia Dursley”   

Harry’s anger bubbled up inside him, roiling like a pot threatening to spill over sending cascading scalding oil everywhere. All this time, the number of times he’d heard the Vernon or Petunia berate him for being such a burden, for taking the food from their table, or and the one that still rankled him the most, taking clothes from Dudley’s back. “THEY WERE BEING PAID” Harry raged, launching to his feet desperately trying to keep a hold on his magic, pacing back and forth in Axehand’s office, with a thunderous look on his face. Feeling his magic build and build inside him wanting to lash out at the sheer fucking audacity. He resorted to his occlumency again, sort of, but in the way that the book he’d read talked about. By focusing on his breathing, on imagining a still river flowing gently. It still took him a few minutes to calm down.   

“Can I stop those payments Axehand?” Harry asked, seething.   

“Of course, Lord Potter, the next payment due to be sent in the next few days, is here by cancelled” Axehand responded his vicious, pleased smile gracing his countenance once again.   

“Good” Harry fumed   

“Moving on, other than that there has been no change since the death of the previous lord. All investments that were classed as risky were liquidated, and your passive holdings, rents from Diagon, Horizonte and Cardin and Knocturn are all flowing nicely, as are the various patents. All are continuing to pay dividends, with a tidy increase over the years once stability returned to the markets. You could drain your trust vault several times a year and barely affect the balance of the main vault with that income. Will you be handling investment going forward?” Axehand posited. Harry having no idea on how to even begin with investment shook his head.  

“Can you do that?” Harry asked   

“Of course, I can... for a small percentage” Axehand smirked before following up “20% of profit earned”   

“Ridiculous, 5%” Harry countered, but not really knowing what a good percentage would be, he did know that Axehand would lose respect for him if he didn’t haggle though.  

“hmmph, 15%”   

“7.5%”   

“12%” Axehand countered yet again   

“10% and nothing more” Harry said, trying to sound confident, he felt better when he saw a small flash of approval cross Axehand’s black eyes.  

“Very well, 10% Lord Potter” Axehand nodded, reaching his taloned hand across the desk to shake. Harry clasped it with his own hand and shook firmly.    

“I shall, put together an information packet for you, to keep you up to date regarding any moves that I make with your fortune” Axehand said scribbling something on a piece of parchment.  

“Regarding your properties, of which there are a few, Potter Cottage at Godric’s hollow is under the auspices of the ministry due to its perceived import by wider Wixen society. There is also an apartment complex in New York, and Potter Manor, to which I have no record of the location of, no doubt due to Fidelius and other secrecy magics.”   

“At the foothills of Mynuydd Du, Brecon, Wales” Harry chimed in remembering what Charlus had told him clearly.   

“Ahh, the enchantments carried to you, naturally. Yes, The Black Mountain estate, now you have spoken of it I remember. Nearly 10 square miles of folded space, hidden and warded from non-magical eyes. A decently sized patch ancient forest on the grounds, as well as a ley line intersection with a stone circle built upon it.”   

“How big?” Harry exclaimed, he knew that wizarding things could be bigger on the inside with a bit of work, but 10 square miles that were just hidden from muggles, how was that possible?  

“10 square miles Harry, well 9.8 square if you wish to be pedantic” he explained with a roll of his eyes.   

“How is that possible?” Harry responded astounded by the scope.   

“It's quite a fascinating subject actually” Axehand said, leaning back in his chair a smile broadening on his features, Harry vaguely remembered Axehand mentioning something about Warding being one previous jobs.   

“You see, in the early 14 th century, The Nott’s came up with a new type of warding scheme, that wasn’t per say an actual ward. When you create a ward line, at least a long lasting one. You must bury anchors along the line that you wish to build the ward on this is called a bounded area. This has been the practice since the very beginning of warding. One Erasmus Nott discovered a way to anchor a unique type of expansion ritual to the stones when he was headmaster of Hogwarts school and had the idea based on a very similar scheme in the School wards. Then when a specific ritual is performed on the full moon would increase the amount of land within the bounded area.” Axehand explained indulgently, though quite clearly enjoying dipping into one of his other areas of expertise.   

“The ritual became very popular after the creation of the Statute of Secrecy, as a way for wixen to increase their holdings without potentially breaching the Statute. I’m not sure what the size of the Potter Estate was prior to the statute you’d have to measure the wards from the outside for that, But I've no doubt your ancestors increased it.”   

“Huh, that makes sense” Harry spoke out. “If there were a lot of family estates that just disappeared after the statute was created, no doubt muggles would have tried to take over the land afterwards. And a giant area where muggles just can't go would eventually get discovered somehow.” Harry suggested mostly thinking out loud to himself.  

“Exactly Harry” Axehand declared “Britain is not a large country on the scale of the world. Even more so in these modern times. Throne! Look at the size of the Hogwarts grounds inside the wards for that matter, they must cover an area of at least 30 Square miles themselves, even if the northern reaches of Scotland, which are sparsely populated and covered in repelling wards. A chunk of land that should be there but can't be accessed would rouse the curiosity of the mundane.” Axehand followed up quite exuberantly.  

“About the manor and the grounds, I’ve been told that I should arrange a cleaning and inspection, can you arrange that for as soon as possible” Harry asked changing tack back to something Charlus had brought up.  

“I shall get right on it. an excellent idea, it will have lain dormant for over 12/13 years by this point, Throne knows what sorts of pests and creatures have attempted to move in to the lands in the meantime. I shall keep you updated” he said adding another thing to do to the parchment list he was creating.  

“That should conclude the official business on my end for now, I will get in contact with you regarding anything I require your input on. Of course, you may do the same, an owl shall find me, or you may send your house elf with a missive if it is urgent. Any questions Harry?”   

Harry racked his brain he had loads of questions if he was being honest with him but focus on the big stuff for now.  

“I’m Lord Apparent of House Potter now, what does that mean, can I do magic outside of school? Does it mean I'm fully in charge of myself now?   

“After a fashion yes, to both, if you are on Potter land then the underage restrictions will not apply. Your magical guardian whomever that was, likely your head of house at Hogwarts, no longer has absolute control over you. They will retain some of course, but they will now take the place of an advisor, they can tell you what to do, but you have every right to ignore it. You will have far more agency as you have control of a major house now, the family magics, light as their touch will be until you are recognised as the full lord of the house, cannot allow the control of the Lord that has power over them.” Axehand explained, putting a lot of Harry’s concerns to rest.   

“Okay, that makes me feel a bit better. But what do I do now?” Harry asked feeling a bit lost, he had no place to stay after all.   

“Whatever you want Harry, but I would suggest you start reading, Politics, the Wixen government, a bit of etiquette would not go amiss” Axehand said amusedly.  

“Get good council from your friends, and if you don’t mind me saying Harry, enjoy yourself a bit. The summer is just beginning. go get yourself some nice things. Your trust vaults are yours to enjoy with no limitations. If you would like to return another day, we shall visit the main vaults” Axehand spoke, with a warmth Harry hadn’t expected from the gruff and serious goblin, but Axehand seemed to have misread what Harry had wanted to ask initially, but quickly understood that Harry was asking where he was going to live.   

“Ahh, my apologies, I said I would arrange new living arrangements for you, I have booked a long stay for you at The Golden Wyvern, on Cardin Square. It is by wixen standards a fine hotel with a reputation for keeping its nose out of its customers business. A favoured location for foreign diplomats to reside in so its security rivals that of the ministry itself. Add in the fact that you own a majority share in the business makes it perfectly safe. Take a left as you leave Gringotts's steps and walk for five minutes, until you come to Cardin Square which has a golden compass statue in its centre, and you will find it. Everything is paid for in advance”   

Harry breathed a sigh of relief knowing where he was sleeping for now.  

“Thank you Axehand, it means a lot” Harry said earnestly   

“Think nothing of its Harry, it is my duty and my pleasure” replied solemnly   

Harry started to stand from his chair, still feeling a little unmoored and floating freely in a vast expanse of water, unsure of what to do next, go to this hotel he supposed. Picking up the leather satchel Axehand had set next to him he slung it about his shoulders and began to make his way towards the door, before turning on the spot and feeling foolish for not thinking of it   

“Um, I should get some money from my vaults I think” He asked tentatively feeling a bit embarrassed.  

“humph” Axehand chuckled “There are two metal cards inside the satchel, most shops accept them, and will allow for direct transfer of funds. The small crests on them will indicate which vault Black or Potter, they are a relatively new concept but clients who have been offered them find them excellent for larger purchases, a concept a mundane born Wix came up with in fact. I have also taken the liberty of providing an extended pouch of 2000 galleons in coin from the Main Potter vault and an additional £1000 in mundane funds.” Axehand said clearly satisfied at meeting his client’s needs before they knew they needed it.  

Harry gave Axehand a small grin and offed his thanks once again, and made for the door   

“May your enemies tremble before you, Lord Potter” Axehand said seriously as Harry opened the door  

“And may yours fear your wrath, Manager Axehand” Harry replied trying to sound serious, and hoping he had gotten the farewell right. But from the look on of amusement on Axehand’s face Harry thought he might have missed the mark a little.   

--  

Harry felt emotionally paradoxical as he walked the rich wooden panelled hall towards the entrance of Gringotts. He felt free, but so very confused on where to go and what to do next. He felt better than he ever had after that ritual, but he also felt exhausted, both physically and emotionally. A lot had happened in the past 24 hours.    

He walked through the glorious and awe-inspiring entrance hall of Gringotts and out the front door, giving a small nod of respect to the armed goblin guards flanking the entrance. It was a cool day for the 3 rd of July, even if it was quickly approaching noon, there was a grey blanket of clouds covering the sky, and from them fell a light rain. It had just started Harry noticed, seeing the grey cobbles of Diagon slowly get darker as the rain coated them. The smell of petrichor seemed to dance through the air, breathing life into Harry as he inhaled deeply, drinking in the cool fresh morning air. He put everything that was weighing on him on the back burner for the time being and focused on the positive. He was free, no more Vernon and Petunia, no more back breaking chores, he would get to enjoy himself this summer, he hoped.   

With a smile he hopped off the last step of Gringotts and took a left with spring in his step. The walk was quick and uneventful, and Harry enjoyed every minute of it, even getting drenched in the rain. He walked slowly, taking in the sights and sounds of the world around him. Stopping to peer through the window of in interesting shop, enjoying the feeling knowing he would get to come back and have a look later whenever he felt like it. He even enjoyed the feeling of the rain gently falling all around him. He stopped to get a bite to eat from a bakery called Kowalski’s buying a hot cheese bun from a smiling middle-aged gentleman with an American accent, who convinced him to also get a strawberry niffler and a cup of coffee. Harry sat at a table in front of the shop under the red and gold awning to eat, just because he could, and enjoyed simply watching people rush to and fro.   

He did eventually make it to Cardin Square, and saw the golden compass rose statue, which hovered over its plinth spinning listfully on its southern axis. Axehand was right, the Golden Wyvern was easy to find now that he was here. It was a majestic Georgian style manor that seemed to have been squeezed into the busy and typically more old-fashioned streets of Diagon. Its façade was painted a sky-blue with large bay windows offering glimpses of the interior. Harry wanting to get out of the rain which had started to get heavier now, quickly made his way through the doors which opened for him when he got nearby. He found himself in a warm and inviting entrance lobby. The walls were panelled in a rich polished oak and an ornate crystal chandelier floated gracefully high up in the centre of the room. Against the far wall stood a desk, trimmed with brass accents and a carved and inlayed depiction of a wyvern in flight, standing behind it, dressed in dark robes stood a young woman with dirty blond hair and a welcoming smile.    

“Good morning young sir, how may I help you today” she said cheerfully.  

Harry walked over quickly, reading her nametag when he got close, it read Alice Bell. Harry wondered if she might be related to Katie.   

“um, good morning, I uh, have a reservation for a long stay?” Harry half asked, half questioned.  

“Of course, if I can just get your name sir” she replied, seeming to turn up the wattage of her smile to blinding   

“Yes, it’s um Potter, Harry Potter” he said hesitantly, waiting for the usual reaction. To Alice's credit, while she did let her eyes flick towards his scar, she did quickly return to checking the book she had behind the desk.   

“Here we are” she said opening a large red leather-bound book. “We have you put up in the Draconic suite. As part of that package, you have the option of receiving room service at any time, and a standing reservation in our hotel restaurant, the Draconian Delights. A rooftop private garden, unlimited access to the hotel library and lounge areas, and any time assistance from our Concierge staff” she said with a smile, before reaching behind her to a pigeonhole set up and retrieving a silver key and handing it over to Harry.   

“Do you have any luggage you would like taken directly to your room sir?”   

“No, my house elf has my things” Harry replied politely  

“Very well, will you be wanting your own house elf to be taking care of you and your belongings for the duration of your stay?” she asked cordially.   

“Yes please, if that’s possible”  

“Not a problem, simply ask your elf to introduce themselves to one of the elves we have on staff, and they will be given access to any of the facilities that they may need” she said with a smile   

“Mipsy” she called out, and a well-dressed elf wearing a miniature porter uniform complete with hat appeared next to the desk, and gave a small bow to Harry.  

“If you will show Mr. Potter to the Draconic Suite please Mipsy.” she asked the elf, asked not ordered Harry noticed quite delightedly.  

“Right’s you is Miss Alice” Mipsy replied in a high-pitched voice “Please be followings Mipsy Mr. Potter” she told him before walking to a staircase to the right of the desk and beginning to climb the stairs.   

Harry remembered that magic could do some strange things the space inside buildings after he reached the landing of the seventh floor and saw the staircase rising two floors higher still, the building was not this tall on the outside. He wasn’t breathing too heavily but the certainty felt a little winded and wondered if elevators had been invented in the magical world yet. A short climb later he found himself on the top floor looking at one of only two doors on this floor. Mipsy opened a door with an intricate dragon carved on a metal plate and stepped inside.   

Harry followed Mipsy inside the room and immediately felt out of place. The room was beautiful, luxurious even. It was a suite of rooms it seemed. Stepping into the foyer, which was lit by shining crystal lamps that were mounted onto the wall with golden fixtures. There were cloak racks and plenty of little cubby holes for storing shoes. Feeling like it would be rude to wear his shoes inside such a nice room quickly kicked off his ratty trainers and placed them next to the door before stepping into the room proper.   

The living area was wide open and spacious, crimson and gold furnishings that reminded harry of the Gryffindor common room. Dark rich wood panelling adorned the walls, an intricate carving every now and then to accent panels, but never enough to make it seem overbearing and garish. Plush velvet sofas and armchairs arranged around a large black marble fireplace, the fire was lit and crackling away merrily catching sparkles of gold and silver from within the dark stone. A dining table and chairs, enough to sit four people sat against one wall, and a small library sat against the other, it seemed to be filled with books on dragon’s, history, and magical theory.   

“The Fires be linked to the floo, young sir, return address being Golden Wyvern, Draconic suite, then followed by a password you wish. There be pamphlet on the tables there to tell yous how to change it. It is 7345 at the moment's sir. Yous can be using the floo in the lobby to get straight to your rooms, ands you can be using it for receiving floo calls as well” Mipsy said to Harry, who was busy taking in the gorgeous room. Though Mipsy certainly answered Harry’s question about why there were no elevators.   

There were windows on the wall opposite the fireplace and a door which led out onto a hidden balcony that looked out over Cardin alley and the roofs of London. Mipsy led harry into the bedroom next. It was, much to Harry’s surprise, quite subdued, but none the less even more comfortable for it in Harry’s opinion. He didn’t think he would be able to sleep there comfortably if it was as rich and opulent as the living room. The walls were a smooth light blue wallpaper, with a miniature dragon pattern that repeated. The floor was a deep soft cream carpet that Harry would place bets on it being infinitely more comfortable than the bed he had back at the Dursleys, Pre Dobby, that is.  

Speaking of the bed, it was a massive Emperor sized four poster bed made of ash, with a light silk canopy draped above it. Mipsy explained that the bed could be adjusted for his preferred level of softness or firmness by rune’s that were carved into the headboard. There was a large walk-in closet, which itself was bigger than his room at the Dursleys, Harry wondered if it was possible to even fill such a storage space. Across from the closet there were a continuing wall of windows, with another door that led onto the same balcony as the living room. The windows let in a stream of daylight, the coolness and the rain only serving to increase the level of cosiness harry felt in the room. There was small fireplace opposite the foot of the bed next to the door that would fill the room with warmth if it were lit.   

The tour continued, Mipsy showing off the bathroom, an all-marble construction, complete with complementary bottles of toiletries, towels and bathrobes, but it was the large bathtub that Harry was keenly looking forward to trying out later, still feeling a bit sticky from the events of the past few days.   

“Is you being happy with the suite, young sirs?” Mipsy asked after the two had returned to the living area.   

“Very Happy, Mipsy” Harry beamed, the elf almost seemed to vibrate in gratitude.   

“Oh, I'm going to be using my own elf while staying here, would you mind showing him around Mipsy?” Harry asked, remembering what Alice at the desk had said.   

“That be fine Mr. Potter’s sirs, if yous be calling them now, Mipsy be showing where all the things that theys be needing to look after you” Mipsy replied quite happily.  

“Dobby” Harry called out, and was greeted by the sharp pop of Dobby appearing by his side   

“You’s calls Dobby, Young Lord Potter” Dobby asked   

Harry, just catching Dobby’s new title for him, took a mental note to try and get Dobby back to just using Master Harry or to try again to get him to just use his name.  

“We’re going to be staying here for a while could you get my things? and Mipsy will show you where you can get anything you need” Harry said to Dobby, who clicked his fingers. Harry assumed his trunk and other things had appeared in the bedroom. Dobby then scurried over to Mipsy and the two began chattering away, it surprised him to learn that they were not talking English, but apparently some form of elvish.   

Harry meanwhile had wandered over to the armchair closest to the fire and had settled down, starting to feel a little drowsy for some reason. The chair was very comfortable, and he found himself sinking deep into the velvet cushions eyes growing heavy.   

--  

A short while later, Harry woke feeling refreshed to Dobby gently taping him on the hand. He hadn’t realised just how much the last few days had drained him, until he could just relax in peace and quiet for a bit.   

“Master Harry sirs? Its being time to wake up now, Dobby has news for you” Dobby spoke quietly as Harry blearily pushed himself up on the sofa.   

Blinking sleep out of his eyes, and feeling rejuvenated he turned to his friend.  

“Hmm, oh sorry Dobby, I was more tired than I thought, what was that you just said?” Harry asked   

“Yous had a busy time lately yous needed your rest, and dobby has news from your Mr. Dudley” Dobby squeaked  

“Dudley?” Harry replied confused, before his brain kicked into gear as he vaguely remembered Axehand saying something about Dudley coming back this morning, since he had to leave without saying goodbye yesterday.   

“Oh shit, I forgot, is he in Diagon? on his own!?” Harry said anxiously, Dudley shouldn’t wander Diagon alone, whatever confusing thing happened yesterday with his cousin apparently having magic now, didn’t mean that it was safe for him to wander the Alley alone.   

Harry quickly got to his feet, practically leaping from the sofa and thinking on how he could find his cousin, he could walk or run down the street? No, Dudley would most likely stay on the main Alley. He’d floo to the leaky from his room and make his way down the main street. Harry was about to reach for the pot of floo powder when a shout from Dobby broke him out of his train of thought.   

“Mr. Dudley says he not be able to make it for a while, said someone named Marge be making it difficult to leave.” Dobby said urgently breaking Harry from his funk.   

The mention of “Aunt” Marge stopped him cold, partly glad that Dudley wasn’t wandering around but mostly being incredibly glad that he wasn’t at Privet Drive anymore, he really disliked Aunt Petunia and really disliked Vernon, but Marge? He hated Marge, and always absolutely dreaded whenever she would turn up for a few weeks to mooch off the Dursleys hospitality, which meant Harry had a lot more work to do.  

 But it wasn’t just the work, it was the sheer bile and vitriol she would spew at Harry at any chance she could get. He was her favourite target, but his Mum and Dad came up enough. He’d distinctly remembered a time when he was 8 years old, after she had set her dog Ripper on him, she’d slapped him and had called his mother “A strung out whore”, Harry hadn’t known what those words meant, but he thought they were true. Which got him in a lot of trouble the next week when they did a segment in class on what their parents did.   

“Aunt Marge? ugh, we’ll have to figure out a way to get a message to Dudley or find a way for him to be able to send messages to me.” Harry pondered; irritation evident in his voice when he mentioned is aunt.   

“We can’t use Hedwig, I've sent her to Hermione, though now that I'm safe here, that might have been a bit hasty. Even still I wouldn’t dare send her there, if they caught her, they’d kill her.” Harry pondered   

“Dobby can be taking messages?” Dobby proffered   

“You would be fine with doing that?” Harry asked, Dobby nodded his head vigorously while beaming.  

“Dobby being able to find out now that Dobby has been to both places” He answered eagerly.  

“Okay we’ll try doing that, I'll write a letter to take to him, and you can leave it on his bed for him to find, then you can check back tomorrow night for a response” Harry added quickly thinking through a plan while feeling his gratitude for Dobby grow even further.  

Harry wanted to get the letter done right away and set himself up in the small writing desk in the library corner, the room came with some nice parchment and a set of quills and inks that were miles better than the stuff he used for school. Laying out a square of parchment he dipped the metal nib of the quill into the ink pot and paused. He needed to think about what he could tell his cousin, maybe he should just set up the way to send letters and let him know that he was fine. But what about the whole magic thing, should he save it for when they met up? The whole topic seems to be a terrible idea for a letter. Did Dudley even realise what he did?   

A few drafts later Harry had the completed letter, it was basic, but it would do the job. It laid out that Harry wouldn’t be coming back if he could help it, and that Vernon and Petunia were probably going to be really pissed off when the £600 of free money that was supposed to go to his care and that they’d definitely gotten used to didn’t turn up in a few days.  

That he was fine after the Goblins had fixed him up. Harry had also explained the system he’d devised, and that Harry would likely stay low contact for a while, but if Dudley ever wanted or needed to get in contact with him, he was to leave a letter in his bedside draw and Dobby would check every morning. The last thing he wanted was to let his aunt and uncle find out that their precious diddykins was picking up freakish behaviour. Godric knows what they’d do if they found out that Dudley apparently had potential as a Wizard, Petunia would probably implode. Harry called Dobby over to take the letter.   

Deciding on what to do with his newfound freedom, even if he still felt a bit lost on the big picture that is, the first thing he was going to do was try out that massive bath. Pulling off his clothes he walked happily towards the en-suite to be pleasantly surprised that the bath was already filled. Towels and a change of clothes were already laid out for him, and with a cup of tea already placed next to the bath ready to be enjoyed. Harry felt even more gratitude for his amazing elven friend as he gingerly slipped into the bathtub, which was much deeper than it looked and let harry fully stretch out, he could probably drift freely in the centre without touching the sides.   

Harry emerged from the bathroom a good 45 minutes later, pruned, but relaxed and feeling cosy, wrapped up in an incredibly soft bathrobe. He always needed a good long soak or shower after anytime spent in an infirmary bed, who was he to break his tradition? He sunk into a window seat that looked out over Cardin Square, the rain had not let up, it was well past midday by now, but the thick dark clouds made it feel like evening, the rain which was lashing against the window beat a soothing melody on the glass. Harry idly looked out towards the clouds for a good while, until he saw a white shape barely visible against the clouds that was getting closer.   

“Hedwig?” Harry said to himself confused, what was she doing back so soon? He only sent her off a few hours ago, and she was supposed to stay. Pulling open the door to the balcony Harry dashed out into the lashing rain. Hedwig was fighting the wind and struggling against the weather as she dove down sharply, flaring her wings as she came to land on his shoulder. Harry immediately brought her inside Hedwig immediately ruffling her feathers that were sodden from the rain. He put her down on the fancy owl stand that stood next to the door to the balcony.  

“Sorry I sent you away girl, I had no idea where I'd be staying when I did, but we’re safe here” he said softly as he pet her. Hedwig hooted back in what Harry had figured out was her fine, but don’t do it again tone. She shuffled into his hand all the same. A moment later she raised her leg and Harry saw a letter tucked away.   

The letter was relatively thin. But what caught Harry’s eye was the handwriting of his name, it was Hermione's for sure, but it was remarkably untidy for her, her handwriting was a usually pristine. Opening the letter with a finger and sitting down on the window seat once more he began to read.   

Dear Harry.   

What are you thinking! I gave you those details for a reason! This exact reason in fact! It has my address, phone number and I even put my parent’s email, their work address and number.   

I don’t blame you for leaving them Harry, I can read between the lines. I obviously didn’t realise in first year, but I did notice at the beginning of this year. After my letters weren’t getting through to you, I was so worried! And then when I did finally see you at the feast you were too thin Harry. Scarily so. And after what Ron said about, he and his brothers having to rescue you and bring you to the Burrow.  

 I tried to go to Professor McGonagall at the end of the year, to try and get you to be able to go somewhere else for the Summer, but she said she couldn’t do anything.    

I’m assuming you are being sensible, for once. and that you are safe and taking the advice of the people that Nevile told you to go see as soon as possible. I’m glad you’ve finally realised you don’t' have to stay with those awful people anymore. I really hope you are safe and warm now.   

We need to meet; I really want to talk to you and make sure you are okay. I’m going to be in Britan all summer, Me, Mum and Dad normally go abroad but those trips are usually a working holiday for Mum and Dad. Where they go to Dental Conferences, they tend to take me along and try to fit in a regular holiday alongside it. But the Conference is in London this year. I’ll be able to get to Diagon Alley easily. The conference is a five-minute walk away from The Leaky Cauldron, and even if I'm at home it's just a half hour train ride. So, you better write me back to sort out a time to meet up soon.    

But if you don’t, I'm going to be in Diagon tomorrow at 10am, it’s the first day of the conference and Mum and Dad feel a bit better about me being in Diagon Alley, rather than just loitering around whatever conference room they are speaking in again.   

I hope to hear from you soon or see you tomorrow.   

Love from  

Hermione.  

Harry felt a ball of warmth at his heart as he read through Hermione’s letter. He'd felt a little bad about worrying her though. And reading her talking about noticing how thin he was at the beginning of the year touched him that she’d noticed, and a little bit ashamed that he’d worried her. Even more so that she’d tried to speak to Professor McGonagall about getting him to stay somewhere else. She’d tried, wasn’t successful, but she noticed, and she tried. He got excited about seeing her so soon, he’d make sure he’d find her tomorrow morning. He thought about writing back right away since Hermione lived so close apparently, but the weather was turning even nastier and there was no way he was sending Hedwig back out into the storm.   

But what to do until then? He still had the rest of the afternoon, if the weather wasn’t terrible, he’d probably do a bit of shopping or just go exploring, but seeing the sheets of rain now lashing against the window that plan was bust. A bit of reading perhaps? He walked over to the bookshelf and grabbed the first book that caught his fancy. “ Diagon Alley: Ancient Rome to Modern Day” That sounded interesting, maybe he’d pick up a few facts or even a few tips and tricks on interesting things to do tomorrow and impress Hermione. He curled up on the sofa next to the roaring fire, and cracked the spine and began to read.   

Chapter Text

The storm had cleared away during the night, but the weather still wasn’t very nice, it was that fine misty sort of rain that clung to everything. But all the same Harry had pulled himself from the bed that he’d found was ridiculously comfortable earlier that morning. It was early enough that the sun only just risen, but he was eager to get a start on the day and looking forward to seeing one of his best friends. He’d ordered a standard English breakfast using room service, Dobby had set out his potions for the day and had proceeded to stare at Harry until he’d taken them all. Harry was partly thankful to Dobby for being so insistent on him sticking to his potion's regime, while he was practically retching at the thought of taking them for months; even if he did agree that he needed them. According to Dobby Harry also needed to have a small bite to eat in the Leaky Cauldron, Dobby had pulled the healer plan that Ranala had given him and sternly pointed out the notes that said, big meals for breakfast and Dinner, but light foods and snacks eaten often between the two.  

Picking out his one non-school robe he decided that he definitely needed more variety to his clothes if he was going to be spending the entire summer in Diagon. It was just shy of 9am, a whole hour before the time Hermione has mentioned in her letter and he’d decided to have a bite to eat and a short walk around Diagon before she did, he wanted a new robe before she arrived.   

--   

Harry stumbled through the green flames and tried to come to a stop in the middle of the morning crowd of the Leaky Cauldron. The Floo had made him awfuly dizzy, it was only his second time using it after all, and last time he felt like he’d snorted half the chimney and ended up in Borgin and Burkes.   

“Careful there” a witch spoke with a chuckle, as he grabbed onto the back of Harry’s robe when he’d been unable to stop himself from moving and nearly colliding with another table of witches enjoying tea and cakes. Harry, now thankfully stationary if a bit dizzy, started trying to brush off the ash that had clung to him, somewhat unsuccessfully.   

“Sorry about that” he said bashfully to the ladies at the table who rolled their eyes at him. “And thank you” he continued to the young witch who’d caught him.   

She nodded with a grin “First time through the floo?” and added a quick flick of their wand banishing the ash and dust from Harry’s robe.  

“No, my second, would you believe that was an improvement?” Harry spoke trying to make light of things.   

She laughed, her hair beginning to shift from a dull brown to a bubble-gum pink shade, Harry blinked owlishly at the transition, was that a charm, or just some kind of hair product?  

“Oh, don’t mind the hair it does that sometimes” she responded with a wink “I'm Tonks, Dora Tonks, nice to meetcha” she said holding out her hand to shake  

Harry took it “I’m Harry” and purposely left out his last name he didn’t want to be swarmed in the leaky again.   

“Don’t worry kiddo, I know who you are” she said in a stage whisper shooting him a wry grin “I was in my last year when you started your first, I was a Puff”   

Harry smiled back feeling relieved that he could limit the possibility of causing a scene. He looked around trying to find an open table but couldn’t see any, it was quite busy today. Tonks seemed to have noticed his searching for an open seat.  

“You going to be hanging about for a bit there Harry?” She asked before motioning to the other open chair at her table “you can share with me, I don’t bite” she added with a cheeky smile. Harry hesitated for a moment, but she did stop him from colliding with a table, and she was a Puff. He’d never really met a mean Hufflepuff, even if he had soured a bit on the house after last year, they’d at least had a reason to distrust him, a wrong reason, but still a reason.   

“Okay, I'm just going to order something to eat and I'll be right back” Harry replied earning another smile and nod from Miss Tonks   

Harry quickly wove in between the tables and crowd to make his way to the bar. Tom gave him a surprised look when Harry appeared   

“Good morning again Mr. Potter, I must admit, I didn’t think I'd be seeing you again so soon”   

“Morning Tom, I'm staying in Diagon for a while, so you’ll be seeing a bit of me this summer” Harry happily said taking the Barman back a little.   

“Very well lad, everything alright? I saw the other lad that was with you head out two days ago, I must admit I was surprised and a bit worried you weren’t with him” Tom said concerned.   

“Everything’s fine now, I just needed to sort a few things out, I’m staying at the Golden Wyvern, on Cardin Square”   

Tom raised his eyebrows in response to that, “Indeed? A fine establishment, if a bit pricey there lad. If there’s anything I can do to help, come and have a word and I'll help where I can, alright?” Tom said, concern still present on his features, but a genial smile and warmth to his voice. Harry responded with a nod and smile before ordering something to eat and drink.  

Harry made his way back to Miss Tonks’s table with a light snack of a few cold cuts of honey roasted ham, and a wedge of strong mature cheddar cheese and he went for a non-sparkling lemonade, which he was quite surprised to see on the menu, he’d thought lemonade was a muggle thing. Setting the plate and glass down on the table he took a seat. He saw an eyebrow raise from Miss Tonks at his choice of meal and he wondered if she was going to comment on it.  

“Thats not a lot for growing lad to eat for breakfast” She blurted out immediately as if she’d read Harry’s thoughts.   

“I’ve already had breakfast, but Healer Ranala put me on a diet” he said nonchalantly, Harry did not notice Tonks’s eyebrows furrow in concern before she quickly put a neutral look on.   

“oh, fair enough, after all my meetings with Madam Pomfrey I've learned not to argue with healers, not to mention my mum” she said in a grimace, which Harry immediately mirrored.  

“What brings you to Diagon Harry? bit of shopping, meeting up with some friends?” Tonks asked   

“I’m actually staying in Diagon for a while, but I'm meeting up with a friend, she’ll be here in about an hour” Harry replied evenly, again missing the small furrow of concern when he mentioned he was staying in Diagon.   

Unknown to Harry, Tonks was beginning to paint a picture and she wasn’t liking the shape of it. First a Healers regime, from what sounded an awful lot like a goblin healer. Not that they weren’t good at what they do, her Mum, Andromeda Tonks, was an excellent healer, had often sung the praises of the work that a goblin healer could do. But that was mostly because they had to be involved in some of the nastier cases. Then to add in, a 13-year-old staying in Diagon seemingly alone. No, Trainee Auror Tonks did not like what she was thinking, she decided to dig. But apparently, she barely had to dig at all as Harry started talking openly.  

“That reminds me, I don’t really know where the best shops are, where is the best place to go for potions?” Harry asked, thinking that he may as well ask someone who was bound to know more about the Alley than him.   

“Depends on the potion” Tonks replied her trying to figure out a way to find out more about the boy who was now beginning to worry her a bit, “What sort of potions are you looking to buy? If you're after the standard headache and pain reliever potions, then Slugg and Jiggers apothecary will do the job even if they're mostly a potion ingredient shop, they sell basic potions on the side. Do you have a list?” she probed.   

Harry rummaged around in his expanded pockets briefly before pulling out the shopping list he’d made over breakfast this morning, he’d added all the potions and things he wanted to buy today and in the future.   

“Here they’re all on that Miss Tonks” Harry said unfolding the parchment and handing it over   

“Pfft, don’t call me Miss, Harry, makes me feel old, or like I’m back at Hogwarts, an don’t know which is worse to be honest, call me Dora” she said with a laugh, her hair cycling through colours in amusement.   

Dora began to read her way through the list the kid had handed her, and she was immediately very concerned. These were not light potions, some of these potions were for very serious trauma. A Liver repair potion! Kidney function improver, max dose vitamin replenisher and appetite enhancers, high strength nutrient doses, Bone draughts. She needed to get this boy to her mum. The goblin healers were excellent at their jobs, but a wixen healer could pick up things that they just wouldn’t consider.  

But she didn’t want to scare the kid either, even more so when she remembered that he was practically her cousin, if a bit distant. But how could she try and get her mum involved. Then an idea struck her, it was her mum’s day off from St Mungo’s tomorrow, she’d nip round to her parent's place later tonight and set up a meeting for tomorrow. As soon as her mum heard about what she’d seen, she’d want to get involved, she was just that sort of person.   

“I’ve not really heard of some of these” she feigned confusion despite having an O in her potions N.E.W.T, and knowing that Blue Bottles on Horizonte was the best place for potions in general “I tell you what, you said you’re staying in Diagon right, is the leaky the closest floo to where you're staying?” she asked trying to ferret out a location.  

Harry shook his head “I’ve got a floo in my hotel room, I'm staying at the Golden Wyvern” he replied.   

Dora’s eyes went a little wider, that place was pricey, but secure and safe from rumours she’d heard, nearly as much warding as the ministry. Whoever put Harry there wanted him kept safe.   

“How about this, my Mum’s a Healer at St Mungo’s, the wixen hospital” She clarified “I’m visiting her tonight, I could ask her to meet you tomorrow? She’ll know where to get these potions, or do you need them today?” She asked hoping that Harry would go for it.   

Harry was apprehensive, he didn’t know Dora, and he didn’t know her mum, but she was a supposedly a healer, didn’t they take oaths and things? But she could be lying, but then again, he did need help the goblins couldn’t tell him much about his core but had said a Wix healer would be more knowledgeable.     

“Okay, can we meet here? Would midday work?” Harry asked feeling a bit bad about taking up someone’s time.   

“I’m certain it’ll be fine” Dora replied knowing full well that her mum would probably yell at her for not getting her straight away when Dora described the potions he was taking to her later.   

“Plus, I’m sure she was friends with your mum too, I think she was at your Mum and Dad’s wedding, might have even been a bridesmaid in fact” Dora felt terrible when Harry lit up at hearing about someone who knew his parents. Not that her Mum didn’t know the Potters, she did, and was good friends with them, Dora even very hazily remembered meeting Harry in the week after Harry was born, before the Potters went into hiding. But it felt wrong dangling them in front of Harry to make sure he’d meet with her mum.   

“She was your dad’s cousin too if I’m remembering correctly, that makes us cousins as well” She added with a smile. She’d truely regretted not taking time to try and meet Harry when they were both at Hogwarts. But he seemed overwhelmed with everything at first, and then her N.E.W.T’s year set in and she got utterly buried in work. She’d wanted the best grades she could since she wanted to go on to the Auror academy, which she had managed. The smile and light in his green eyes that simply shone when she’d said that they were cousins tore at her heart and made her regret not meeting the boy earlier even more.   

The two talked a bit more, but staying away from anything heavy, Dora felt bad about manipulating Harry, and Harry didn’t want to give anything more away. Harry asked about what Dora was doing after Hogwarts after he’d admitted that he didn’t know what sort of careers were out there for wixen. Dora explained that she was an Auror trainee, and that she’d be one for another two years if she kept passing her trainers tests. She spoke a bit about what the job was and what the training was like. Harry thought the training sounded particularly brutal, but he was really interested in the types of spells and techniques Dora explained. Dora also let “Slip” with a wink and a faux innocent face that the ministry trace did not work anywhere within Diagon alley, there were too many wards and any magical signature from the trace got drowned out. But before long, Dora flicked her wand.  

“ Tempus, oh damn, my breaks almost over, I've got to get back to Brighton,” She muttered, now honestly wanting to spend time with the lad.  

Harry felt the same; surprisingly sad to see that Dora had to leave, he’d been enjoying talking to his newfound cousin. But she was back on duty as a trainee auror, Harry had long since finished his snack and followed her out into the bustling Diagon streets.   

“Mum will definitely want to meet you tomorrow and I'll tell her 1 o'clock if that’s okay” Dora asked quickly   

“That sounds fine” Harry replied with a nod  

“See you around cus, I’ll write you soon yeah” she said warmly with a wry grin.  

Harry gave a small smile back and nodded as Dora spun on the spot and disappeared with a pop and a whirl of colour. Harry blinked momentarily before reminding himself that that must have been apparition. Before surreptitiously palming his wand and muttering “ tempus” the ghostly clock face that materialised at the tip of his wand read 9:34, he had planned on getting a new robe before Hermione showed up and, but he had counted on a bit more time. He decided to ask tom, that if he saw Hermione, and gave her description as being a pretty girl his age, with a riot of curly brown hair and asked that if she came in a bit early that he’d be in Twilfit and Tattings, a clothes shop he’d seen along the main alley that seemed to do a bigger variety of robes.   

--  

Harry pushed open the door to Twilfit and Tattings two minutes later after briskly walking down the main road. A bell rung inside the shop and Harry Heard a door open and close as a witch in very elegant and fine-looking hunter green robes appeared behind the counter. She seemed to look him up and down.  

“Come on in, come in,” she said, and as Harry fully stepped into the shop, she looked him up and down as if she was scanning him, it felt a bit unnerving.   

“Hmm, an interesting customer to be sure, and oh those eyes, like emeralds. The sky blue you have gone with works decently well, but you know...” she said with a pause “I think that darker colours might suit you a bit better. A nice Hunter green, or a deep rich purple, now that would set those gems of yours right off.”   

Harry didn’t quite know what to say, he was sort of expecting to wander in and pick something of a clothes rack, not... whatever this was.   

“Oh, sorry dear, Madam Twilfit at your service, how can I help you today” she said as if she’d been caught with her hand in the biscuit tin.   

Harry stared at her still reeling for a second before his brain caught up “I was just wanting to get a new robe” he said hesitantly thinking he might have come to the wrong shop  

“Just the one dear?” she replied a little surprised.   

“I don’t really have much time today, and this one” he said pulling at the collar of his blue robe “Is a bit worn out, I think the charms on it are failing” he added walking towards the counter   

Madam Twilfit leaned over the counter reaching out to feel the material of one of the sleeves.  

“Mmh, you’re right there, they are failing, the fit is off too so you’ve exceeded the growth charms any way. One of Madam Malakin’s?” she asked cordially, Harry nodded.  

“She does fine work, speaking as a professional and competitor” she said with a small smirk “but she tends to use preset charms, and pre-cut patterns.” she said honestly but not disparagingly “I however, form my wares from uncut fabric and create the patterns to order.”   

She breathed in deeply a light coming to her eyes as she looked over her new client. “So, if its just a single robe today, I can certainly sort that out for you. The first step is picking your fabric, now like I said earlier, darker richer tones will work well for you, they’ll make the paleness of your skin and the jewel tones of eye really pop. But I will always take your tastes into account.” She said as she flicked her wand and revealed a spindle of rolls full of fabric that spun to show off many kinds of material and began to show Harry various recommendations.  

 Some harry found were a bit too garish, or just didn’t feel like wearing them. Another dark blue did catch his eye though, Midnight, Madam Twilfit called it, and she pulled it aside, before getting one of her recommendations. Initially Harry was reluctant, it was green, a Slytherin colour and it must have shown, as Madam Twilfit chuckled and asked him if he was only ever going to wear red and gold for the rest of his life. Harry realised he was being a little foolish even more so remembering the dagger that he had hidden against his back and had a proper look at the fabric. It was a deep rich shade of green, it reminded him a little of the canopy of the Black Forest during the evening just before the sun went down, a dark verdant hue, that seemed to absorb light. There was silver embroidery flowing through the fabric, accentuating the forest theme as it whirled into curving leafy patterns, it also felt gorgeous to the touch, he wasn’t sure what it was made of, but he decided that he wanted something made of it, but he’d get the blue as well.   

Harry had assumed that Madam Twilfit would then take the fabric and make the robes, but no, apparently not. She then took his measurements, which was quick enough with the enchanted measuring tapes that floated around him. He then had to decide on the types of robes, and he immediately felt lost. He had no idea, if open or closed were better, his current royal blue robes were a closed robe style apparently, he had had no idea, he thought robes were robes.   

Madam Twilfit decided to try and make things a little easier on Harry and had retrieved a magazine containing different outfits for him to look at and make a choice, He liked the look of an open style robe, but he realised he didn’t have anything to really wear under them, so he opted for a closed robe. Madam Twilfit looked at him a little surprised   

“Closed for both? Truly? A little old fashioned for a youngster” she said, “Are you certain that you wouldn’t perhaps like to try a hybrid style. Where they can be worn both open and closed?” she asked   

Harry mumbled a response “I, I don’t really have the things to wear underneath, these are the only robes I have at the moment that aren’t my school robes or muggle stuff that doesn’t fit very well”   

“Oh well then, I can fix that, if you have the funds. A few shirts of different colours, matching blazer colours or waistcoat, several pairs of trousers, I can even provide unmentionables if you wish?” she replied matter of factly.  

Harry ummed and ahhed for a moment, as Axehand’s words rung in his head, about him enjoying himself, maybe getting himself a few nice things. It wasn’t like this was going to break the bank, he was, to put it lightly, wealthy at this point so why not, and it was not like he had a lot of clothes that weren’t his school things.  

He nodded at Madam Twilfit with a smile and she got to work, with several complicated motions of her wand the fabrics that she’d chosen floated up into a slot in the celling  
“The machinery above will draw, cut and stitch them according to the measurements on that piece of parchment” she pointed at the roll of parchment where she’d recorded his measurements earlier.  

“Now, what enchantments would you like placed on them? The standard three? Size adjustment, temperature regulation and dirt repellent?” She asked,    

“How far will the size adjustment go? I'm due for a big growth spurt this summer according to my healer” Harry asked a little worried he’d have to get all new robes again soon.  

“Hmm, shall I use growth charms instead of the adjustment then, the size adjustment charms wouldn’t cover all that much growth, those sorts of charms are mostly meant for minor changes.” she asked deep in thought, “Though it’s likely that when the growth charms fail the garment will become unwearable, Growth charms are much harder on fabric than the lesser size adjustment ones” she said as she bustled off to arrange everything.   

Harry nodded thinking that it would be best, he did want to spend a bit of money, but he didn’t want to end up having to repeatedly waste money by constantly rebuying clothes over and over. Madam Twilfit, walked over to what looked a lot like a control panel and motioned with her wand, was that how the charms were chosen?  

While Harry could hear the machinery working above him, Madam Twilfit, got him a few shirts, one to match each of the coloured robes he’d be getting, and an extra one in a pale cream that would fit both. As well as black, grey and green trousers. Harry felt a little embarrassed when she asked him to pick what type of material, he wanted for his underwear and what style of underwear he wanted, though she didn’t even flinch. Harry felt reassured by her professionalism long enough to pick 5 pairs of black cotton boxers.   

Five minutes later, Madam Twilfit returned a few things in her arms, she quickly chivvied Harry into a changing room off the side of the main floor, pushing a bag of clothes for him to try. Harry closed the curtain behind him, there was a large standing mirror in the corner of the small room, as well as a side table and a few hooks to hang things up. Madam Twilfit had rushed through the order on one of the robes, the hunter green with silver stitching, and had also provided a pair of black slacks, off white shirt and matching green waistcoat that harry didn't remember ordering but quite liked the look of anyway. He quickly pulled off his current robes, and began to redress, but through the rustling of fabric and his focus on the mirror, he didn’t hear the bell at the front of the shop ring.   

A moment later Harry barely recognised himself, and he felt a warmth fleetingly glow in his chest as he looked himself up and down in the mirror, taking in his new appearance. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t get this feeling when he’d bought the blue robes, maybe it was that they were closed robes, and he’d not quite gotten round internalising that it wasn’t a dress just yet. But the slacks, shirt and waistcoat alone made him feel better, more in control of himself, that these were things that fit him perfectly, and that he had chosen them. Draping on the robe completed the look, it accentuated his frame, but seemed to hide away his skinniness.   

Harry emerged from the changing room and back onto the main shop floor to find Madam Twlifit, scratching at a piece of parchment with a quill. She looked up raking her eyes across him, before allowing a satisfied smile to emerge on her lips. Eyes colouring with amusement and flicked a finger over to the corner. Harry began to turn as he heard the clattering of shoes on the hardwood floor before something collided with him.  

“oof, what..?” he began with a grunt of pain before recognising the brown curls of hair attached to the girl which had practically tackled him with a hug.  

“you idiot” she said softly before starting to pick up steam “What on earth were you thinking? Did you not look at the numbers I gave you. I even told my parents that you might be coming to stay this summer. At any time, and that if you did, they weren’t to ask too many questions” she babbled quickly in a tone Harry recognised as stressed, normally exam stress.  

“I’m okay Mi, I’m okay” he said placatingly, letting the tension in his shoulders go and sinking deeper into the hug wrapping his arms around one of his best friends pretending not to hear Hermione’s soft rant taper off with a “Your still an idiot”   

“ahem” broke the silence that fell and the two sprang apart before turning to see a highly amused Madam Twilfit standing behind the counter with a raised eyebrow that was eerily like Professor McGonagall.   

Harry bashfully uttered “Sorry” while rubbing his head   

Madam Twilfit rolled her eyes still amused before asking “How do you like the robes and clothes Mr. Potter?” letting her business mask slip back on.  

“They are incredible Madam, I was a bit hesitant about the shirts, since I wear them all the time at school, but these ones are so soft. And you were right, I do love the colour.” he said quickly his excitement and enthusiasm now back in full force now he had company.   

“And you Miss, what do you make of the change in your friend?” She asked Hermione, who took a step back to take a proper look at Harry. Harry felt a little awkward as Hermione stared at him up and down until she met his eyes and quickly poked her tongue out at him, the sudden change in her focused expression to... to that made harry burst into laughter, a laughter which apparently was contagious as Hermione quickly joined in.   

“He...He looks fantastic Madam Twilfit” she said between bouts of giggles.   

“Well then, my work is done for now, though you do need to change those shoes, muggle trainers simply do not work with that outfit, Go see Oscar, the cobbler that’s opposite the new Kowalski bakery along Cardin Alley” she said, no practically ordered.  

“Mr. Potter, the other robes, clothing are in here” she said as she lifted a parchment bag which was far too small for everything he had bought to be stuffed inside. Harry quickly paid for everything, total coming to a round 70 galleons, 15 each for the robes, and the remainder for the shirts, slacks, socks and underwear. Madam Twilfit included the waistcoat free of charge.   

Back onto the Mainstreet of Diagon alley, the drizzling rain not having let up, Hermione turned to Harry,   

“You have some explaining to do Mr.” She said with a firm look on her face jabbing him in the chest with a finger.   

Harry chuckled and linked his arm with Hermione’s where she had put one hand on her hip in her scolding pose, before pulling her along towards Gringotts and Cardin Alley.  

“Come on, we’ll talk in my room, A lot has Happened... a lot” he said joking at first, and his voice losing its humour by the end just seeming tired which seemed to give Hermione pause.  

“The Leaky is the other direction though” She said confused and pointing behind her.   

“I’m not staying at the leaky, I’m at the Golden Wyvern, it’s on Cardin Square” harry replied with a smirk  

“Cardin? I knew there was more than just the main street, but I've never gotten the chance to explore?” She asked still confused and a little excited.  

“I thought the same when Axehand mentioned it, turns out Diagon is not just Diagon Alley and Knocturn, there's a whole town here, nearly 10,000 witches and wizards live in the wizard space of Diagon.” Harry said excitedly and while the two walked, arms still linked and began to explain what he’d read in the book he’d picked up the previous day. Describing Cardin Alley and Square, Horizonte Alley, even Knockturne Alley’s old name of Nocturne, Lacrima Way just beyond it where the temple district used to be. The two were so caught up in their conversation that it took them the entire way there, Harry trying to answer every question that Hermione came up with, he did a pretty good job he thought, though he did end up admitting to Hermione that he’d try and find another copy of the book for her.   

“This is where you're staying” Hermione said wide eyed as she took in the front of The Golden Wyvern Harry responded with a nod, fully drinking in the majesty of the place, seeing the little details now that he didn’t feel so exhausted emotionally and physically. Small things that could easily have been missed, like the little carved dragons on the windowsills that were animated and looked around at the alleyway from on high.   

Harry at Hermione and motioned for her to follow him. Walking back into the lobby where he saw Alice was on duty again. Giving her a small wave, he made his way over to the massive fireplace so he could floo up to his room, before turning round and seeing Hermione in the centre of the room gazing around at the place, curiosity and wonder in her eyes.   

“Mi, over here” he called out she shook her head as if breaking from a spell before quickly walking over, eyes full of more questions.   

“We’ll floo up to the room, I need more practice with it anyway” he said remembering the nearly disastrous attempt this morning, He grabbed a pinch of the ash like floo powder before a thought hit him. “Umm, Alice” he called out across the lobby. Alice looked up hearing her name called   

“Do I need to say the full name including the hotel to get to the room or just the room?” he asked feeling a little silly that he needed clarification.   

“Just the room name when inside the building Lord Potter, include the building when not” She replied   

Harry turned back towards the fireplace before registering what Alice had called him, his head whipped back towards the desk.  

“How did you know that?” he whispered shock evident on his face as he looked down to his finger where the Potter Lordship ring became visible at slight nudge by his magic.   

“Apologies my lord” Alice said, seeming confused and apologetic. “We were informed by Gringotts yesterday, that the Potter Lord will be staying with us, since you hold a large majority stake in the hotel, and to make the Draconic suite available. Have I done something wrong?” she asked apologetically.  

“I own part of the hotel? Right, Axehand did mention that, Um, no no you haven’t done anything wrong, I just didn’t realise that other people were made aware so quickly. Please just call me Harry” he said hurriedly she nodded and averted her eyes trying to busy herself with paperwork at the desk.   

Harry meanwhile turned back to the fireplace, “You need to call out Draconic Suite, password 7345” he said to Hermione who was wider eyed than he’d ever seen her. He tossed the powder in turning the flames a verdant green, called out the name and walked through.   

Hermione quickly followed through the fireplace. Harry was marginally more successful than earlier and managed to stop himself from going flying across the room when he stepped from the flames, though only barely. After stopping himself a thought occurred, had Hermione ever used the Floo before? The answer was a resounding no as a shrieking Hermione came flying out of the fireplace right into him sending the duo straight to the ground anyway.   

“Ugh magical travel is so illogical” He heard Hermione say, dusting herself off and sitting up next to Harry whose glasses were askew the two met each other's eyes an immediately fell about laughing once again.  

They eventually dragged themselves over to the couches next to the fireplace, which had returned to its merrily crackling yellow self, to catch their breath from laughing so hard at something so random.   

“Harry, care to explain why I got a hurried half written letter saying you’d run from your relatives, and that I needed to look after Hedwig?” Hermione asked feigning that she was cross but with a wry grin that betrayed the stern look she was going for.   

Harry sighed and took a deep breath, wondering how much to tell her, before immediately deciding to tell her everything and began to talk.  

Chapter Text

Harry and Hermione had just made their way over to the sofas that were placed around the fireplace, leaning back on the soft velvet cushions. Harry had decided to tell Hermione everything, that had happened across the past few days   

“When I said that a lot had happened, I really mean it Mi,” Harry started to speak “In the past 48 hours I have found out, that I am not just the Heir to the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter, I am its Lord Apparent” He let the ring become visible and Hermione shuffled closer along the sofa the two were sitting on to get a better look. “I am also Heir to the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Black” letting the heir ring materialise as well, hearing a soft gasp from Hermione who had huddled in close.  

“I’ll start at the beginning; My Aunt and Uncle were being their usual awful selves as soon as I got back a week ago. I was going to wait a while before sneaking off to Diagon, but I didn’t want to wait any longer, and Dudley” Hermione’s eyes narrowed, and her expression grew cold.   

“What did he do this time” she snapped before realising what she’d said, burnt umber eyes growing wide at a secret she hadn’t intended to spill. Harry was confused and wondered what stories he’d ever told to her about his cousin, apart from the bullying and the chasing he’d alluded to briefly before but never anything concrete enough to elicit this sort of reaction.   

Hermione was staring fixedly at a point on Harry’s chest refusing to meet his eyes. Harry tried to figure out how she knew, she’d only react that way if she knew. She was smart and could put things together easily but...; then it struck him. The hospital wing, the three weeks of hours long nightly visits when Hermione was Petrified, where he had told her everything, every little shameful, awful thing that had been done to him growing up. Her trying to go to McGonagall to try and get him out of there and passing him her address and contact details as a last resort.   

“Hermione...?” Harry asked softly, she still refused to meet his eyes “How much do you remember from when you were petrified” he said even softer, a little scared of the answer, but hopeful anyway, to share the burden, or to know right now if she was going to abandon him. The freak that doesn’t deserve nice things or friends because they were for normal people, a part of him knew however, she would never run.  

“Everything” she said before leaning into him and wrapping him in a warm tight hug. “I heard everything, every awful thing” Harry felt hot wet tears fall onto his chest quickly soaking through his shirt.   

“The list of number and your address, and you went to McGonagall. You tried to get me out, and when you couldn’t you gave me a way out anyway” he said haltingly resting his head on hers “Thank you”   

The two held each other for a good while, simply being there for each other. Harry had never felt more loved.   

They broke apart a little while later, still sitting side by side, Harry called for dobby and asked him to make them some tea. Mugs in hand still snuggled close Harry continued talking.   

“Where was I” Harry started, voice still choked with emotion   

“Dudley” Hermione injected; coolness still very much evident regarding Harry’s cousin    

“Right, Dudley,” he sighed “Where to start. He’s changed, massively” he stated Hermione’s expression immediately went into one of doubt with a touch of anger.  

“No really Mi, I could see it when I got into the car at Kings Cross. He’d lost a lot of weight, had this air around him that was nothing like what it was before. We managed to have a talk when my relatives went out, and I found out why. I was suspicious at first, thinking it might have been a trick or some con. But no, he looked too hurt, too angry and just a bit broken. He lost someone this year at school, his roommate. This kid from what Dudley implied, had it worse than I did. He had no control over his own life and was going to be pulled from their school, away from the only refuge he had. Dudley found him in their room... after he’d” Harry stopped talking letting the horrible truth go unsaid.   

“It knocked Dudley for six, made everything real. Suddenly the shit that his own Mum and Dad used to do to me, he saw it for what it was. He got talking to a councillor, he says it helped a lot. I wonder if there’s a magical equivalent.” Harry half pondered feeling Hermione's arm grow tighter around his shoulder.    

“But yeah, we talked. I don’t know if I fully trust him 100% yet, but I want too. He managed to get his Mum and Dad to let us both go into London; told them I'd be his bag boy or something. He knows that they would never let him get friendly with me, so he needs to lie to them, or they’ll make it worse”    

“So, we came to Diagon through the leaky, and made our way to Gringott’s. Met with my account manager”   

“Account manager, not the tellers?” Hermione asked.   

“Yup, that’s part of one of the big things” he said with a sour smirk  

“Axehand his name is, he’s the Potter Family account keeper. He’s been trying to write to me for years, but his owls have never gotten through”   

“That sounds like you have a mail ward on you” Hermione stated  

“He’s investigating, I did a bit of blood magic to identify myself.” Hermione drew a sharp breath   

“Blood magic is Illegal” she whispered, frightened.  

“In Magical Britian it is, yes, but I wasn’t in Britain when I did it” he countered and smiled when he saw Hermione’s eyes go wide at the realisation.  

“Gringotts's is sovereign territory of the Goblin Nation” she said coming to the obvious loophole.  

“And I'm glad that they are too, they helped me out massively later with that loophole. But yeah, a bit of blood in a bowl to prove my identity. Though that caused problems when Axehand detected the Basilisk venom and phoenix tears that have balanced each other out in my blood. But it's perfectly safe” he added seeing the look on his friend's face  

“There was a small Palava about a basilisk being loose before I told them it was dead, and they believed me. The trouble really started when Axehand tried to immediately jump into installing me as the Lord of House Potter”   

“I did wonder why that lady downstairs called you Lord Potter; I thought you had to be of age for that?” Hermione asked   

“Last of Line protocols, Axehand said. Because I am the last living Potter, Family magic states that I can be named as Lord Apparent of house Potter, since there’s no one else left” he said sadly.  

“I have supervised access to all of the Potter vaults, you know to make sure I don’t run off with the fortune, or try and take anything too dangerous out of them, I am free of the trace as long as I'm on Potter land, I don’t know if that includes this hotel, but according to a new friend I made earlier the trace doesn’t work in Diagon anyway” he added with a smirk, drawing his wand and levitating the Potter satchel which sat on the writing desk towards him. The wand felt much warmer than it used to a little too hot honestly and there was still that strange dissonance there now too, like it didn’t quite fit him perfectly anymore. The power though, he barely had to use anything, before the chamber while a fetching charm, which was a low powered version of a summoning charm, still needed a bit of a push. Now though he barely even thought about it. He turned to Hermione with a mischievous grin which turned to surprise as he saw the look of shock on Hermione’s face  

“You didn’t say an incantation” she said stunned,   

Now it was Harry’s turn to be shocked as he replayed the previous 30 seconds in his head, he hadn't used an incantation, and he didn’t even realise it. Was it because of his practice with wandless magic? And did he want to show off? He turned back to Hermione with a smile and reached out with his left hand and filled himself with the intent to pull a book from the shelf across the room, gathered his magic in his palm and pulled.   

Hermione sat still and shocked as she watched her best friend first do wordless magic but then reach out with a hand and perform wandless magic. She’d always known that Harry was powerful, it was just something about him, that 6 th sense that tells you pay attention to that person. But to see it played out in front of her. Wandless magic was the domain of legendary wizards, but she had a theory. What if it was not simply the domain of the powerful, but those who practiced early and long enough. Afterall, she’d remembered reading about other cultures that don’t use wands, there was a school in Africa that taught classes on wandless magic, even Illvermorny supposedly had wandless magic as part of the curriculum. So, she steeled herself and knocked the shock from her face and asked   

“Can you teach me?” she asked eagerly.  

Harry’s grin slid from his face, his expression growing pensive. Could he teach this? Probably not since he had no idea how he was even doing wandless magic. He just sort of could, but he would still try. If he could teach Hermione, he’d also try and teach Neville and Ron too.   

“I could try, I think it has to do with being able to feel your own magic, have you been meditating?” he asked Hermione whose eager expression turned into a small grimace.   

“Not really” she said reticently “I can't seem to shut my mind off long enough to focus, even using the tricks from that book Professor McGonagall lent you”   

“Okay, okay, we’ve got all summer to figure it out” Harry said with a chuckle and a warm smile “it can be our project for the summer” he added delighting in Hermione’s response to a summer project which was to practically glow from excitement and think so hard that he could see the gears of her mind spin through her eyes.   

“We’ll be talking about that later, but what happened next, you said that’s where everything went wrong” Hermione asked immediately getting Harry back on track.   

“Well not wrong but sideways at least, it was kind of beneficial though.” he said reluctantly not wanting to tell Hermione that he’d ended in a hospital bed again, this time in the summer holiday.   

“Sooo, you remember me talking about how I had to give blood to prove my identity to the bank right” he asked, Hermione nodded yes, warily and a little apprehensively  

“I... kind of messed it up and gave a bit too much blood, add in the shock of being told that I'm about to be a Lord and me getting up from my chair a bit too quick. Well, I kind of passed out, fell forward and smashed my head on the corner of my account managers stone desktop and woke up in the goblin halls of healing seven hours later” he said rapidly with a grimace.  

“Oh Harry” Hermione said exasperatedly before giggling a little hysterically.  

“I mean at least I didn’t go running off to some chamber or magical defences this time, just an accident” Harry said with a shrug and a small grin, Hermione responded with another bout of hysterical giggles before calming down.   

“Okay I’ll concede that point” she said with a shake of her head “What happened when you woke up?”   

“Something happened before I woke up, or as I hurt myself that’s got me turned around, I won't lie to you. I think my cousin is a wizard” he said the joking tone receding, now turning serious.  

Hermione seemed taken back by this statement, before her eyes narrowed in thought, “What makes you think that? Did he get a letter?”   

“No, no I don’t think so, if he ever did receive one, Petunia might have gotten it and destroyed it before she let him see it. But a few things made me suspicious, first when he got angry and upset when we were talking there was this background hum of power, I thought it could have been me or dobby perhaps but now I don’t think so. Then the day before yesterday when we approached the Leaky, he could see it across the street”   

Hermione was deep in thought as she puzzled through this potential revelation, from what Harry had told her about his aunt and uncle, his aunt destroying Dudley’s Hogwarts letter before he could read it was not out of the question. The background hum of power when a Wix got emotional was a definite hallmark, she’d been in the room when Harry had let his power go once before. Harry practically radiated a windstorm in an abandoned classroom after his panic at the whole school finding out he was a parselmouth earlier that year. She and Ron had managed to calm him down before he hurt himself or someone else, but she still remembered the nearly delirious feeling she’d felt when Harry cut loose. He was astonishingly powerful for his age. Then there was Dudley being able to see the Leaky Cauldron, that was not normal for non magicals, it was a massive pain to get her parents into the pub to go shopping every year. But squibs could also see through the wards. Hermione felt like there was a bit more that made Harry certain that his cousin might be a wizard.   

“There’s more isn’t there” She asked   

Harry nodded “When I fell and hit my head, the goblins are certain he did accidental magic to heal me”   

Hermione’s eyes went wide at that statement “they said they were certain” she reaffirmed, harry nodded in response “It wasn’t you” she asked to which Harry shook his head solemnly.   

She slumped back into the sofa the two of them were sitting on. She didn’t know what to think, nearly every story that Harry had told her, (unknowingly told her), she reminded herself still feeling a little guilty of her nearly perfect memory, that had her retaining some of the darker and horrible years of her best friend’s childhood. But every time that Harry had brought up his cousin it had never been good, from what he’d told her he was mean and cruel and judgemental. Then pondering on what harry had just told her about his cousins' revelations, and quite frankly horrible experiences this year she could see how that type of grief could be a big reason to change. With a sigh, she realised she’d have to follow Harry’s lead on this, it was about his cousin after all. She would back him on whatever he decided was the right thing to do. If that meant that Harry forgave him, then so be it, she would wait for evidence that this change was certain first though.   

“What are you going to do Harry” She asked quietly   

“I don’t know Mi; I really don’t know. He seemed really interested in learning more about our world” he said motioning to the two of them. “And he seemed to love Diagon, I had hoped we would be able to talk in person yesterday, but something came up, our lovely “aunt” has come to stay at Privet drive” Harry said venom practically dripping from his words as he mentioned Marge “So he won’t be able to get away for a while. Merlin am I glad I got out of there before she arrived” he continued.   

“I’ve set up a letter drop system, thanks to Dobby who volunteered” he said nodding to Dobby who was over in the window seat, with a needle and thread with rolls of what looked like pinstripe fabric, Dobby responded with a big smile and a nod to the two  

“But I don’t want to try and talk about all this through a letter, but he can get in contact if he needs, I think I just need to wait and see how it goes from here” Harry finished with a sigh.   

The two sat quietly for a moment, listening to the rain on the windows and the crackling of the fire before Hermione still wanting to know more of what her friend had gotten himself into this time, asked   

“So, what else has gotten you worked up” she asked kindly   

Harry snorted a laugh, before reaching down and opening the leather satchel, he hadn’t properly had a chance to look through the contents yet but none thinking about the Health report that he was fairly sure a copy had been placed inside, a moment later he felt a roll of parchment hit his hand, and true enough there it was. He unrolled it extensive as it was and handed it over to Hermione and sat back and let her read through it.   

It was, not exactly fun or entertaining to watch Hermione gasp or her eyes go wide in shock as she read through the report, he did have to avert his eyes when she kept flicking her gaze to him and back to the report when he was sure she had gotten to the very extensive injury list that went back to his childhood. He felt his face grow hot and his gut turn when he looked back up and saw tears flowing freely down her cheeks, he hated seeing her upset like this, even more so when it was because of him.   

Hermione was in shock, she was horrified, she was confused, angry and so very sad as she read through the report. The first shock were the lordships, she of course knew about Potter, but Black as well? and she could barely process the Hogwarts lordships. Gryffindor? Well now that she thought about it, yes that one actually sort of made sense, Harry was brave, incredibly so in fact, and he was loyal, she could never see him ever abandon a friend. And he rushed into things there was no doubt about that, so yes, she could see where that came from Harry was an exemplar of what it really meant to be a Gryffindor but what did by “deed, character” mean? she wondered.    

Slytherin was a bit of a shock though, until she remembered Harry self-deprecating himself one night, after crying about everything that had been going on when he’d visited her. She’d remembered about how he should have just gone to Slytherin like the hat had wanted him to at first. Then he’d gotten quiet before whispering that he didn’t regret not going to Slytherin though, because if he had he probably wouldn’t have gotten to be friends with her. Merlin, it had been torturous to be conscious but completely paralysed at that point she’d wanted to hug him so badly. Even more so when he’d come round again the next night and it was more Dursley horror stories about a vile woman he’d called Marge, and he’d passively mentioned in passing that he’d never even been hugged before. She fixed that as soon as she first saw him in the hall for the Midnight Feast, and was the reason that she would keep hugging him every chance that she could get from now on.   

Then came the Core status and she felt her blood run cold, a core only operating at 60%!! That was so incredibly dangerous, below 50% there was a chance that a core could be damaged from what she remembered from a theory book she’d picked up before first year when she’d been so desperate to learn everything she could. Then there was the ancient magic and the merlin damned Parasitic Evil Soul, she had no idea what either of them meant, she had a theory about the ancient magic from what Harry had told her and Ron after the Quirrell debacle and what Dumbledore had said about his mother's protection.   

She really did not like the sound of the Parasitic Evil Soul though; the words left her with a cold chill running up her spine, at least it was gone. But then came the Vampiric Ward Scheme that must have been the reason that Harry had been continuingly forced back to Privet Drive for, why McGonagall had turned her away when she’d pled with her to let Harry come to her place for the summer, and McGonagall was suspicious when Neville had offered the same. Well with the wards gone she angrily chuckled internally Harry had no reason to go back.   

Then came the mind section and she started to feel sick. The instinctual Occlumency was certainly a nice thing, and Harry had already begun to work on repairing that. The potions though, reading through that list was revolting, Dumbledore’s compulsion! Aversion and hostility potions!! And then what really upset her were the Compulsiveness Draughts, the Inattentiveness and Distractiveness Potions, who ever had dosed her friend had made it so he’d constantly be jittery and would struggle to pay attention and go off raring for adventure at any moment.   

No wonder Harry had changed in those first few weeks of first year, at first, she’d thought she’d found someone like her. She’d seen Harry in the library often, not as often as she frequented it mind, but none the less. They’d talked about the differences between the muggle world and the magical and what excited them about what they could learn, swapped tips that they’d picked up, like a quill sharpening spell Harry had overheard from an older Gryff.   

But then that boy that was desperate to learn gradually disappeared, and he stopped coming to the library so often if at all. She’d thought she’d driven him off like she’d done so many times before when she got overexcited at a project or a lesson or some detail that everyone else found insignificant, and it hurt so badly that she was alone again.   

By Halloween it was eating her alive, she was a hairsbreadth from sending a letter to her mum and dad to ask to pull her out of school, damn the magical world. It was all this and with Ron’s caustic uncaring statement that she was a nightmare, and she had no friends that had driven her into the bathroom that day. Then the troll had wandered in Harry racing after it, no after her, emerald eyes blazing to save her.   

She’d seen flashes of the harry from the first few weeks of school every now and then since, but he was never truly back. She’d still been firmly his and Ron's friend afterwards though. Harry had dashed in to save her from a Class XXXX creature after all and Ron had done the smart thing or the “strategic thing” as Ron had put it himself and gone to get his prefect older brother. But when she’d woken after being petrified, that boy, the one desperate and wanting to know more, was back in force. She wasn’t certain at first but then the morning after they’d talked with Neville in the library, and Harry, the prat, had gone missing for the rest of the day and nearly given her a panic attack until he’d walked into the common room with a smile, the prat.   

That next morning she’d found him paging through a book taking copious notes and there he was, the friend she’d wanted and met in those first few days was shining through once again and he’d often joined her in the library in the last few weeks of school, his desire to learn more no longer being supressed by Merlin damned potions it seemed.   

With a hard sigh and a swallow, a dull ache in her stomach, looking up seeing Harry refusing to meet her eyes she looked further down and saw the body section, the very long, far too long list of injuries. Jesus bloody Christ as she read, she felt hollow and numb, if Harry hadn’t been magical, he would have died several times over. She lowered the parchment when she was done, tears flowing freely down her face once again and shuffled closer to her best friend and put her arms around him, he was too thin. She felt his breathing shudder, and his shoulders lurch softly as Harry began to cry softly quickly turning to sobbing his arms reaching out around her and clinging onto her for dear life.   

Harry was in pieces, the look of heartbreak and glistening tears in her umber eyes when she’d finished reading, her careful movements as she slowly shuffled closer to him before placing her arms around him started him crying. Then the damn broke every speck of emotion that he’d stuffed into the cupboard under the stairs in his mind, all the awful, horrid things that Petunia and Vernon had called him, had done to him, and the child like bit of him that had been locked in there with those hateful things the bit that wondered why they hated him, even if he was magical, the bit that was desperate for attention, for love, to just be held and told everything was going to be okay.   

He was holding Hermione now, he was probably holding on too tight, scared that if he let go, she might disappear, because freaks didn’t get to have hugs, and he was sobbing uncontrollably. Hermione started speaking to him softly, gently exactly the way that he had to her when she’d run to him clearly in the middle of a panic attack after he’d accidently gone missing for most of the day and turned up after curfew to find a stricken Hermione.   

“It's okay” she said softly stroking his hair. Was it? Harry asked himself.  

“I’m not going anywhere” she said. Really?  

“They won’t hurt you again, I won't let them.” she whispered fiercely, no, swore to herself. And Harry believed her.     

The two sat in the quiet, silence only broken by the quite sounds of sniffling and holding each other as each attempted to wrestle some form of composure upon themselves. Hermione let go first but didn’t move away and stayed snuggled up to his side, Harry feeling emotionally drained once again was thankful for that as he gave her a wan smile.   

Dobby popped over a tray of hot tea, the minty aroma bringing a warmth to harry’s chest as he took a cup and brought it closer, Hermione did the same and took a sip, coughing a little “Wow that’s strong, is it peppermint dobby?” she asked, Harry reckoned she must have thought Dobby had over steeped it, he interjected before dobby could answer. “It’s rock mint tea, It’s from the goblin nation” he answered earning a curious eyebrow raise from Hermione. “Where did you get it from Dobby” Harry asked curious about his elven friend’s doings.   

“Dobby be visiting Account manager Axeyhands whiles you be out meeting Miss Grangey Master Harry, nice goblin be selling some for a galleon, yous be having plenty for a goods while, nots many wixes be thinking to buy food and drink from the goblins” He answered evidently pleased at surprising his master friend.   

“Thank you, dobby, truly” he said warmly as the elf bowed and returned to making his own clothes.  

“So, you disappear into the goblin nation for two days and you come out with a goblin tea habit” Hermione needled him with an elbow in jest with a smile. “What else did you learn?”   

Ahh so they were getting right back on track, with Hermione close by and a mug of what was coming his new favourite hot drink he felt like he could face the rest now, the hard parts were over. Harry nodded and tried to think of where to begin   

“Right, so I wake up in the hospital and get this test done, I was off balance to say the least. But Axehand, that’s my Account Manager by the way, he’s really quite nice in his own no nonsense way, he did have to cast a spell at me to knock some sense into me when I lost control of my magic a bit, but he apologised once he read the list of doom.” Harry quipped trying to bring a bit of levity to a health report which contained a great deal of pain. It didn’t really work.   

“He explained what the political bits mean, about how I'm the last of line of the Potters and I'm lord apparent, instead of Heir Presumptive like Neville. Me being the Heir to the house of Black was a surprise, even to him, since the last supposed lord was Sirius Black someone who’s currently in Azkaban for the betrayal and murder of my parents, 12 muggles.” Hermione gasped and turned to look at him still leaning against him her features drawn back in alarm as she went to speak.  

Harry interrupted and carried on, “The big thing is that my report lists him as my Godfather by oath and magic”  

Hermione was confused, “How does that change anything, if anything that makes it worse since you have a godfather that’s a traitor and a murderer” she whispered alarmed, frightened and confused that harry wasn’t perturbed by this.  

 Harry could understand that, if he hadn’t known that Black was his godfather by oath then he would have been terrified and utterly enraged by the whole thing, and so he explained what Axehand had told him.  

“Because he swore on his blood and magic when he became my Godfather Mi, the report confirms it. If he acted in any way to cause harm to me, like selling out my mum and dad’s location to Voldemort,” he felt Hermione flinch, “his blood oath and his own magic would have killed him for the offence.” he saw the realisation dawn on her face.  

“Which means likely, he’s innocent, at least of betraying your parents” she whispered.  

 Harry nodded “Axehand is trying to investigate things, but he’s got to be careful I think, the Ministry does not like goblins interfering in its business, despite them trying to do the same to them all the time”   

“He still named me the Black heir though, so now I have two trust vaults and far too much gold in them” he said sheepishly, he was tempted to say how much, since the Potter estate would come up later, and he wanted her help, and he could definitely see the curiosity spark once again. “The Potter trust is 40,000 galleons refilled each year, and The Black trust is 100,000 a year maximum, they top up each year on my birthday” he said quietly.   

Hermione’s response was more something he’d expect to hear out of Ron, “Bloody hell” she said a little stunned. Before simply smiling at him “You enjoy that money, Harry, every last penny... or sickle or Knut” she tapped his arm that was wrapped around her shoulder with a weak slap at Harry’s amusement to a saying that had run away from her “you know what I mean” she sighed.   

Harry decided to carry on with the explanation, “Axehand talked a little bit about the Parasite too, called it a Horcrux and ordered me not to go looking for information on it. He called it Black magic, utterly irredeemable magic, that had been trapped by my mother’s sacrifice until the basilisk venom in me killed it. He didn’t want to talk any more about it, just told me to be thankful it was gone.” Harry saw Hermione’s features turn pensive; he recognised that look. It was the look of someone about to start researching.   

“He’d mean you too Mi, don’t go looking for information on that. from the way he talked about it, its knowledge that’s too dangerous” he said warningly, not that he wanted to keep information from Hermione, but he’d never forgive himself if she went looking for books on this thing and got hurt in the process. She looked at him and must have seen the grave look on his face and the tone of his voice, before she nodded curled into him even closer.   

Harry continued and on, explaining the parasitic ward and how he was sure he had broken it the night before school ended. He explained how it might have acted like a messed-up form of practice and exercise since it’s affected how strong his core is. He even started to go through the treatment program Healer Ranala had sorted out for him. But the bit that he was looking forward to was telling her about the ritual.   

“So yeah, Dobby is keeping me on track right Dobby?” he called out to the elf behind him.  

“Is being true, Dobby be making Master Harry takes his potions, you can be sures of this Miss Grangey” he called out happily much to Hermione’s amusement. She still wasn’t quite sure on the whole elf servant thing, but Dobby really did seem happy.   

“But before I started that, I had to go through a Goblin Blood ritual, to fix my bones. Since there were far too many that were broken and didn’t heal right, or straight up wrong” He turned to look at Hermione again  

“It was so cool” he said, his face lighting up brightly.  

“I’ve never felt anything like it, Skrol the Ritual master, oh and the ritual circle itself, if I could have taken photos or notes for you, I would have. It was massive. They only needed three rings for my ritual, but I think there were easily seven rings in total, each with their own purpose” Hermione hid a grin as Harry launched into describing the circle, what he thought were the effects and uses of each one.   

“Merlin is that what it feels like to be on the other side of one of my lectures” she said smiling happily enjoying that Harry could geek out like this. Harry must have talked for 20 solid minutes about the circle alone. Harry laughed and playfully knocked his shoulders against hers.   

“Yes, how does it feel?” he said jokingly   

“Nice, it feels nice” she said honestly “how did the ritual feel when it actually went forward, was there pre-history before you did it?”   

“Uh, sort of, Skrol asked me if I'd done any ritual magic before, only when I bound Dobby I replied, which he found really interesting, since we used those strange runes for it” Harry replied   

“Did he know what they were?” Hermione asked  

“He did” Harry responded eagerly, “They are called the Runes of the First Promise” he said looking up towards dobby who had paused his clothes making and was looking on interestedly   

“Skrol said” harry started before being interrupted by Hermione getting up and grabbing her bag, her school bag funnily enough. She quickly dug around for a notepad and pen before walking back over.   

“Back as you were, this cwtch isn’t over,” she said to harry who had moved slightly and changed the way he was sitting.   

“Cwtch?” harry asked bemused, to his surprise Hermione blushed slightly.   

“It means cuddle or hug in Welsh; my mam uses it a lot since she is, well Welsh, you must have heard her accent when you said hello at the station” she said slightly embarrassed but even, so she still settled down and leaned into Harry.   

“Now you were about to tell me about those special runes that you can't seem to be able to draw from memory”   

Harry stifled a chuckle before starting “The runes of the first promise supposedly came about when the wood elves or what became of the wood elves found that they were losing control of their magic, after the other elven races had disappeared from this world due to the increasing number of wixen appearing and altering the way that magic worked”   

“Other elves?” Hermione asked, attention clearly now locked onto this subject, and evidently incredibly fascinated by it.   

Feeling Hermione's enthusiasm catching harry grinned and carried on “yes, there were the high elves, which I think were pretty much Tolkien type elves, and were so advanced and powerful that they closed the walls of reality around them when they left this realm, leaving practically no trace left of them. There were the Dark elves which according to Skrol, just disappeared. A lot of the Fae just returned to their own realm, which is still about by the way, occasionally holes open and people fall through” Harry paused for effect and turned “Alice in wonderland was based on a true story, Alice was a Muggleborn”   

Hermione's looked back at harry in surprise and interest “I’ll have to re-read that as soon as I get home then, though that is mildly terrifying”. Harry agreed, most of the books on fairytales and myth that had gotten tossed discarded into the second bedroom back at privet drive. Including Alice in Wonderland, which Harry had found stuffed behind the rickety dresser, made the fae out to be quite scary.   

“Where was I, ah, the runes of the first promise were created when the wood elves came out of the forest to ask the human Wix for help, and together they created them for the ritual, Skrol called it old magic, from the world before Wix, and one of the purest pieces of magic ever wrought by us.” Hermione was writing down everything that harry was saying before pausing, “But why can't you remember them, Dobby do you know why?” she asked.  

“Dobby nots be sure miss, but dobby thinks that if they be needed then they can be remembered, but only by us elves. Be parts of the magic of the promise, the elves must be the ones to ask for the bond withs them and do it willingly” Dobby replied, questioning himself as much as he was answering as if he wasn’t fully sure.   

“So, It’s a defence mechanism, a type of memetic block, it makes it so an elf can't be bound against its own will” Hermione exclaimed.  

“Skrol was right it is pure then, if only the elf can initiate and remember the runes when they are going to be used” harry said, feeling grateful that he’d followed Dobby’s lead on the binding ritual, he felt a bit happier now, knowing that Dobby wholeheartedly wanted to bond with him, and was backed up by ancient magic.   

“We’ve gotten wildly off track” Harry started before his stomach rumbled realising how hungry he was, which was unusual, normally he didn’t really feel hungry at all, he was too used to hunger pains. Those potions must be working. Pulling his wand and muttering a quick Tempus 12:30 the face revealed   

“Um Dobby, could you go to Kowalski’s and get us some lunch please” Harry begged.  

“Dobby gets Master’s potion ready too” he said with a nod before disapperating.    

Harry continued with his explanation of how it felt to go through the ritual, he did gloss over how much it had hurt though, mainly focusing on the feeling of the old and potent magic that was drawn up for the ritual and how he thought the Goblins had worked it through the runic circles. Hermione had continued to take notes.   

Dobby returned quarter of an hour later with a large selection of pastries and savoury treats for the two to try, but first he made sure Harry took his potion, an organ curative this time, which was bright orange and tasted somewhere between rotten fish and mouldy bread, Dobby had to glare at Harry to make sure he drank it all.   

Once all the food had been consumed by the two, Harry quickly resumed his explanations of the goings on of what happened after the ritual was complete. How he woke up the next day with eyesight that was greatly improved, even if he did still need glasses to focus on things close to him.   

“Then I thought, I'd find a way to make sure Hedwig was looked after, I didn’t know where I'd be staying right then, so I sent her to you” he said sheepishly   

“I’ve already said how much that letter bothered me, so I'll just chalk it up to you not thinking things through, besides it had its upsides. If you hadn’t sent Hedwig to me, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. I’d probably just be hanging around back home waiting for Mam and dad to come home from their conference” she said with a faux stern tone clearly making fun of things. “You really have had a busy few days haven’t you. Another hospital trip, a goblin ritual, finding out all sorts of things.” she said softly   

“Oh I’m not done yet” Harry intoned “next up was the meeting with Axehand that got cut short the previous day. I got my vault re-keyed and found out I had the Black trust vault along side my other one.” Harry raised his left hand and pushed a bit of magic into his fingers willing the rings to appear “I claimed these, the Lord and heir rings for Potter and Black”   

“I think I can guess but which one is which?” Hermione asked   

Wiggling his left pinkie, the white gold of the Potter ring flashing in the firelight he spoke “This is the Potter ring, putting that one on was an experience in of itself” he said. Hermione’s eyebrow quirked in interest   

“When I put it on, I saw my Grandad” Harry said, and as he did a warm feeling spread up his arm from his finger, feeling the Potter magic wrap around him.  

“It’s a defence mechanism I think, to make sure that information that needs to be passed down can be passed down even if the current Lord is dead before the heir can claim the lordship. We got to talk” Harry said warmly and was about to tell Hermione what his grandad had told him, about the old houses and the old kingdom of Albion when he found himself unable to move his tongue and jaw.   

“Harry, Harry are you okay?” Hermione said beginning to panic noticing that Harry had frozen. Moments later Harry felt the tension in his jaw release.   

“Oookay, I don’t think I can tell you about what Grampa Charlus told me, must be some sort of secrecy spell” Harry said placatingly to Hermione feeling unnerved by the magic that took control of him even if it did so briefly. “I’ll have to skip that bit, but I met him, we talked for a long time, I told him pretty much everything” Harry said wistfully, feeling Hermione lean back into him to comfort him.   

“The Black heir ring didn't do anything as fancy as that, it felt like it was examining me though, it must have liked me” Harry joked as he tapped the dark sapphire in of the Black Heir’s ring. “I am wondering if I should try and keep that one hidden though” he added   

“Why? Do you think there’ll be trouble” Hermione queried   

“Maybe, Axehand did say that the Malfoy’s have been trying to get their hands on this ring for a while now, apparently Draco’s mother was a Black before she married Malfoy senior. Might be nice to rub his face in it though” he chuckled.   

“Hermione?” Harry asked after a pause where the two just sat enjoying the quiet  

“Hmm?” she intoned   

“Do you know what the conversion rate is for Galleons to British pounds is?”   

“mmh, last time my parents converted some money it was £6 to the galleon, why?”   

Harry stiffened, feeling his brain starting to misfire once again, He’d asked about the conversion to try and make sense of the overall worth of the Potter estates, Money had never really been a factor in his thinking before, he knew when he visited Gringotts for the first time and seen his trust vault that he had plenty. But he’d never really been the one handling his own money before, never thought to think about the value of what he had. Galleons themselves hadn’t really seemed like money until he’d thought about what they were worth in muggle money, the currency he was most used too. So, after he’d done the math converting his trust vaults into pounds at first. His problems started when he concluded that he was nearly a Millionaire from just the contents of his two trust vaults alone. His brain really started having trouble when he tried to work out what the Potter estate was worth in muggle terms.  

“Fuck” he said weakly   

“Harry” Hermione said shocked, sitting up and slapping his arm “language... Harry?”   

“Sorry just did the maths, I’m a fucking multi-millionaire” he said stunned once again at this concept he was really struggling to internalise.   

Hermione blinked owlishly “Are you okay Harry? you know you’re still you right? It doesn’t change anything” she said softly, she didn’t think being rich would change the boy sitting next to her, he was too kind.   

“Will you go through the vault inventory with me, I’ve not gotten around to it yet” Harry replied numbly reaching for the Leather satchel.   

Hermione could see that Harry was really struggling with the concept of being rich and was trying to deflect, not that she wasn’t' interested in the vaults there was bound to be a lot of very interesting things in there. But Harry was clearly having trouble with this new reality. Then it hit her, Harry wasn’t used to having things, and being told he could pretty much have anything he wanted now was hitting him hard. I mean Harry had three robes that were not school clothes and he’d bought two of them today for merlin’s sake, and practically nothing else that wasn’t for school.   

“Sure, let's go over to the table, more room to lay things out over there.” she replied calmly  

The two sat side by side at the small dining table as harry opened the satchel, reaching in and pulling out a leather-bound tome, the coat of arms of house potter tooled into the leather on the front. Setting it on the table with a deceptively loud thump, he opened the book and began to read, Hermione poised and ready with a quill to take notes if necessary.   

The book was divided by three different tabs that protruded from the side, each marking different vaults. The first few hundred pages were transaction pages for the currency vault going back 300 years. Pages seemed to keep appearing one after another, the book must be magically enchanted to allow for far more pages than it looked like it could hold. The next tab was the precious item vault, this one came with an index, splitting up into gem’s, jewellery, enchanted items some of which the two found incredibly interesting. A bracelet that seemed to be able to store various types of spells for a short while, Hermione remarked that it was almost like a wizarding multitool, why a Wix would need it if they had a wand Harry didn’t know but it still seemed cool. A pendant that with a tap could display the current constellations, a chalice that improved the potency of healing potions. A small library’s worth of Grimoires created by various Potter’s, a number about potions.   

They moved on to the Furnishings and Miscellaneous vault after spending an hour looking through the artefacts vault. Which was to Harry’s surprise the largest section off all. But then if there were over 2000 years worth of family behind him, and their things ended up being put into that vault it made sense that it would be quite large. He was surprised however, to find that there was an armoury section, with weapons ranging from daggers and maces to a crate of rifles from World War 2.  

Hermione, true to Hermione’s nature, Harry thought got incredibly excited when she started looking through the library section, which must have been over 100 pages long, he promised that if they were safe then she could borrow any book she liked. Not to say that there weren’t a few books that caught Harry’s eyes, firstly there were two copies of Harmony within safely tucked away in the vault which he immediately noted down on a scrap of parchment to pick up at a later date, the second of book however was something quite different, it was a spell book/manual of arms, dealing with the topic of combining swordsmanship or dagger work in spell combat.   

“Blade and Spellworke, by Arthur Potter” Hermione read off the scrap of parchment Harry was using to make notes, she also noticed that Harry had listed a practice dagger and sword “Why has that caught your interest, Harry?” she asked a little concerned that Harry was thinking about sword fighting.   

Harry quickly realised that he hadn’t mentioned that he owned both the Sword of Gryffindor even if he didn’t have it in his possession right now, nor had he mentioned that he had a very rare dagger strapped at his back right that moment.   

“Ah, right I forgot to tell you, it's part of the Gryffindor and Slytherin titles. They aren’t like the typical House titles; they don’t come with land or vaults. They do however have symbols of office. By rights as long as I hold the title, I own the Sword of Gryffindor”   

“The sword you used to kill the basilisk?”   

Harry nodded “yeah that one, I think if I focused, I could call it to me, but that would make it disappear from Dumbledore’s office and I don’t really want to have him look for it yet.” Harry said nervously   

Hermione could understand that, Harry had explained why he was not happy with Dumbledore now, and she was equally angry at him since he apparently decided to manipulate Harry with a compulsion. “So, what is the Slytherin Symbol?” She asked curious now   

“It’s uhh, this” Harry said tenuously as he reached behind his lower back beneath his robe with his left hand and drew Slytherin’s dagger.   

“You’re walking around with a knife now?” she stammered evidently startled.  

“Well two technically if you count my ritual knife” Harry replied   

“TWO!?”   

“Yeah, I mean Axehand told me to keep wearing this, since the sheath has loads of notice me not and hiding charms on it, and it's always good to carry a backup weapon” he said calmly not really seeing the big deal   

“Back up weapon, what other weapon are you carrying around?” she said irately.  

“My wand of course” Harry said matter of factly.   

Hermione looked as if she’d been hit in the face.  

“I never really thought of it like that” she said deflating “I’ve never really considered my own wand as a weapon, but it is isn’t it” she said slumping in her chair. Harry was right she thought, she’d never considered it and despite all of the nasty things that she’d been through over the last two years, she still looked at magic as wonderous and full of things to learn even if it was, even if some of the spells she’d learned were offensive in nature. She’d never really thought of their applications, not really. Everyone that carried a wand was walking around with a potential weapon.   

“I still don’t know if you should be taking accessory advice from a warrior culture mind” she said feeling a bit inundated possibilities she hadn't considered.   

“Well, I keep getting into fights for my life, so it might not be terrible idea thing” Harry responded half joking, as he laid the dagger on the table for Hermione to look at. She leant in to examine it closer as Harry re told what Axehand had told him about Mage steel, it was worth seeing Hermione start looking through the library section again for books about alchemy, there weren’t any unfortunately. The two spent a little while longer combing through the ledger before deciding that they’d had enough and returned to the sofa. Dobby was already waiting with a tea service and some cakes that he must have hidden away after returning from the bakery  

“So what are you going to do next, now that your free of the Dursleys” she asked warmly   

“I really don’t know if I'm being honest, I’ve been feeling a little lost” Harry replied truthfully   

“Well, what would you like to do?” she followed up trying to draw Harry out a bit.  

“Enjoy the summer, learn more, explore Diagon alley.” he answered a little whistfully “I know I'm meeting another healer tomorrow afternoon, but other than that I'm not really used to having free time, if you get what I mean”.   

“I know, let's make a list” Hermione declared and when Harry looked at her confused “It’ll give you an idea of things to look for and goals to work through”   

“Makes sense, let's give it a go” Harry responded, a series of goals sounded like a good idea, he was used to having something to work towards at least.   

 The two put their heads together over a sheet of parchment and got to work, Harry coming up with a few ideas and Hermione throwing out a few suggestions.   

  To do list   

1. Go back to Gringotts, retrieve books and items from vaults. Get update on Potter Manor  

1. Explore Diagon  

1. Visit Olivander’s see about strange dissonance from wand 

1. Write Neville, see if he wants to meet up  

1. Learn More about the wixen world, buy books on etiquette, spells, history and anything that looks interesting . 

1. Work on wandless magic 

1. Figure out a way to get in contact with someone about Sirius Black  

1. Buy more clothes  

 He found it difficult even with Hermione’s help to try and sort through is thoughts on what he wanted to do.    

“This seems like plenty to be getting on with” she said satisfied with the progress.   

“What sort of spells do you want to try and learn over the summer” She asked barely hiding her glee over learning new magic, even if it was technically illegal for them to be doing so.   

“I’m not really sure” Harry replied “I think this list helps, but exact details are still a bit shaky” he said with a self-effacing grin.  

“How about we wander through Diagon looking at bookstores and see what spell books and Grimoires we can find” she said confidently before looking at the weather “Although we might have to wait for the weather to clear up first” she followed wrinkling her nose while looking out the window.  

Harry meanwhile had gone still as he remembered something that Charlus had told him about the Potter ring he now wore.   

“The Potter Grimoire” he whispered to himself.   

“What’s that Harry?” Hermione asked barely hearing him  

Harry stayed quiet, as he closed his eyes and focused his thoughts inward. Feeling his magic gently simmering beneath his skin, it had gotten calmer since he’d broken the link with the ward scheme. But more potent Harry thought, more full and ready to answer his call, He remembered the segment on his core on the diagnostic, and mentally made a note to ask Mrs Tonks tomorrow, if he trusted her that is.   

Shifting his focus back to the pool of magic inside him, he focused on his fingers and the glowing pools of magic that rested within the rings. Even with his eyes closed he knew that they had become visible again and he was vaguely aware of an intake of breath from Hermione. The Potter ring was warm and comforting, a bastion of protective magic both offensive and defensive, firm, strong and unyielding. Narrowing his thoughts on the ring further, he sent a mental thought to the ring about the Potter Grimoire. He didn’t really know what he was doing, but his instincts told him somehow that this was right.   

Hermione saw that something was up with Harry the moment he got quiet, He seemed to be deep in thought and kept quiet as soon as she saw that he had closed his eyes. She barely noticed the change in the air at first, thinking that there must have been a window open somewhere in the room; at least until what was the slightest shifting of the air began to feel like a draught that quickly became a stiff breeze. It took up until then to realise that this was all centred-on Harry whose hair was swirling. With wide eyes and bated breath, she saw her friend open his eyes and with purpose raise his arm confidently taking hold of something invisible as a golden light enveloped his hand.   

Slowly the golden light began to solidify into something tangible. It was a book. Hermione was a little surprised by that, with the sheer build-up of magical energy she felt cascading off of Harry, a book was the last thing she expected. Though now she got a proper look at it as Harry placed it on the table in front of himself, she reconsidered. The book seemed almost imposing in its simplicity. Bound in simple black leather with the embossing of a Stag tooled into it she would have dismissed it as an overly large journal if she couldn’t sense the subtle power that gently radiated from it. It took a moment for her to find her voice once again.  

“H-Harry,?” she choked “What is that” She asked   

“My Family Grimoire” he whispered reverently in response as he reached out with one hand and placed his hand upon it.   

Harry felt that subtle warmth and power thrumming gently beneath his palm, information about the book filtered into his mind, as if he was recalling knowledge he’d been told long ago.   

“It’s nearly a thousand years old” he said out loud still spellbound by the book   

Hermione tentatively reached out with to touch the book.   

Harry alarmed and intuitively knowing what would happen if someone not of the family were to try and touch the book, snapped out of the daze he’d been in and caught Hermione’s hand before she got close   

“NO,” he shouted but not harshly more frightened than anything else “Don’t touch it” he quickly added on   

Hermione flinched and winced slightly at the hold that Harry had on her arm. He was gripping tightly, her first thought was to get irritated and to try and shake her hand loose, until she saw the alarm and fear on Harry’s face.   

“Sorry, Hermione” Harry said shaken, “Bad things would happen if you tried to touch it. The book will defend its secrets against anyone who isn’t part of the family.” He said letting her arm go, which she quickly pulled back, shifting away from the book   

“What would have happened if I’d managed to touch it” she asked now realising the gravity of the situation   

“I-I think it would have killed you” Harry replied a tremor in his voice “I’ll store it back in the ring, it’s too dangerous to leave lying around. I’ll have a look through it another time” he said, after placing his hand on the book and reaching for the magic in the ring and safely storing the dangerous tome.   

There was an uneasy quiet between the two, as they packed away the ledgers and notes they’d made back into the Potter Satchel, before returning to the sofas by the fire. Harry spoke up first trying to fix things.   

“I’m Sorry Mi, I should have thought things through before bringing dangerous books out of storage” he said apologetically.  

“No, no, It was partly my fault, I shouldn’t have reached for it like that, even if it wasn’t a dangerously protected ancient tome. I let myself get carried away.” she said her own tone laced with regret “You’d just pulled something that was deeply connected to your family, but I just saw a fascinating book and wanted to read it.” she said with a wince.  

“I still should have warned you” he said leaning close and bumping her shoulder with his before a mischievous grin graced features, “At least I've found your weakness, a book that you can't read on pain of death” he chuckled before receiving a sharp slap on the shoulder.  

“You prat” she said through her own giggles, “you watch I'll marry you just to get access to that book, then you’ll have to let me read it” she said without thinking, and furiously blushing as soon as she realised. Harry also had a distinct red tint to his cheeks as he laughed and focused very intently on the crackling fireplace.   

Trying to break the odd awkwardness that had dropped over the two Hermione spoke up “So... do you have anything else tucked away in that ring, that may or may not be deadly to anyone else that’s not a Potter” she said lightly not really expecting an answer, but stopped short when she saw a look of thought on Harry’s face   

“Yes, actually. I don’t know if it has the same protections, but I'd expect so” he said getting to his feet and taking a few steps away to the middle of the room.   

Hermione saw his eyelids flutter before focusing intently and his lips move as if he was casting a spell, the air began to shimmer touched by an unseen breeze as magic began to spill from the palm of Harry’s hand. The magic formed outwards parallel to the ground and there was the briefest moment of bright golden fire at the heart of the now 6ft long beam of golden light.   

Harry was focusing hard on containing the power in his hand, summoning the staff was a completely different game compared to summoning the grimoire. The grimoire had felt strangely passive when he called for it, slow, methodical, patient even.  

The staff though, the staff was eager, it was built for action, for purpose. Harry had the distinct feeling like it was tolerating him, indulging him, as the magic in his palm began to extend into a beam of light. It made what he’d said earlier to Hermione about wands being weapons feel like the words of a naïve child.  

What was forming in his hand now was a weapon and it knew its purpose. A fraction of a second later, the name popped into his head and information on it followed as the War Staff of House Potter materialised in his palm ethereal at first, then solidifying. It was split into different materials, the upper two thirds being carved out of the branch of an ancient Yew that flowed culminating into the carven form of a phoenix, wings wrapped around a fist sized deep crimson gem. Though what really caught Harry’s eye was the bottom third as the wood morphed seamlessly into a keen 2ft long silver blade at the base.   

Harry’s breath was sharp and ragged as he realised how much magic it took to summon the staff, but he was caught off guard by how right the staff felt in his hand. Like an extension of his arm, it sat perfectly balanced as he gripped it in the middle. Intuitively, like with the Potter Grimoire he knew the capabilities of the staff. It was extraordinarily powerful, though as foci went, staffs were supposed to be a great deal more powerful than wands.   

Shaking off his fixation of the Staff he pulled his concentration back into the room he was standing in and saw Hermione starring at him from the sofa with a transfixed look on her face and a wide smile.   

“The War Staff of House Potter” He said breaking the two from their reverie.  

“It’s... it’s amazing” Hermione mumbled “I... I think I can feel it amplifying your magic... are you going to try and cast with it?” She asked curious about the capabilities of the staff.  

Harry immediately shook his head “No, no way, I just sort of know that I'm not ready for this staff yet, it’s way too powerful. I don’t know any staff spells, and I think if I tried to push it, I would have no control of the magic” he said. Harry felt a mild pulse of approval from the staff and a nudge for it to be returned to the ring. The family magic, it seemed was willing to allow him to look at the power that the family could provide but was happy that he’d realised by himself that he was not ready for such a responsibility and had exercised correct judgement.   

Harry sent a thought and pulse of magic to the ring on his finger and watched in wonder as the staff transformed into a pole of energy once again and return to the ring. Harry then sat back down next to Hermione.   

“Any more surprises” she asked half serious half joking   

“No, I think that’s everything” he said a wearily   

Hermione was pensive for a moment before speaking “We’ll figure it all out Harry, you have your list, and you can always add more too it whenever something comes up” she said cheerfully.   

The two sat around chatting about far less weighty topics, until dobby popped half an hour later  

“Its be nearing dinner times, Master Harrys, is you staying to eats Miss Grangey” he asked   

“oh, I lost track of time” Hermione said startled, before drawing her wand from her bag muttering a quick “ Tempus” her eye went wide at the time, nearly 5:30pm   

“Damn, my parents are picking me up at the leaky at 6” she said turning to Harry with a wince, she was clearly torn between going home with her parents, and leaving her best friend alone, Harry saw her indecision and tried to help her along.   

“I’ll be fine Mi, summers just got started and you’ve not seen your Mum and Dad since Christmas. We’ve got all summer, are you going to walk to the leaky or do you want to floo?”   

Hermione looked at the fireplace a little hesitantly but then glanced out of the windows looking over the alley way and saw the rainstorm that had refused to shift all day and grimaced.   

“I’ll floo...” she said resignedly   

“I don’t like floo  travel much either but, you can't deny it’s quick” shrugging his shoulders.  

“Are you sure you want to stay here on your own Harry? I’m certain I could convince my parents to let you stay with us” she asked kindly.   

Harry thought for a moment, “I’d like to stay here honestly, I’ve got dobby to look after me, and with me staying here, we have a place to practice a bit of magic this summer, not just the wandless stuff that the ministry doesn’t seem to be able to track.” he said with a smile. While the offer was nice, he really wanted to try and give living by himself a go this summer.   

“If you’re sure Harry. But I’ll make sure the guest bedroom is ready for you at any time, I promise.” she said warmly pulling Harry into another hug. “It’s Sunday tomorrow, so I'm going to be spending a bit of time with my Mam and Dad, since there’s nothing on for the conference, but do you want to meet up on Monday?” She asked  

“Of course,” Harry replied with a beaming smile “I'm meeting this other healer tomorrow that’s probably going to take quite a bit of time, so I'll be busy for all afternoon anyway.” he said not entirely looking forward to being under another Healers stern guidance.  

“Oh, that’s right, who is this healer, if you don’t mind me prying?” Hermione asked gently.   

“Umm, Healer Tonks I think, She’s Dora’s mum.” Harry explained  

“Tonks? I think I met someone with that name when we were in our first year, she was older though might have been in her last year. and Dora?” she questioned   

“Probably the same person then, did her hair colour change when you were talking to her” Harry asked, Hermione nodded with a quirked eyebrow   

“Thats Dora, her first name is a mouthful Nymphdora Tonks, I think. She told me to just call her Dora. She’s distantly related or something I think, and her mum Andromeda knew my Mum and Dad, I sort of fell into her coming out of the floo earlier today, we got to talking an she wanted me to meet her Mum tomorrow in the leaky, to help me find the right potions shops. Since she’s a healer she’ll know which places are of good quality.” Harry explained   

“That does make sense, Tonks was nice when she spoke to me in first year, she seemed a bit swamped though.” Hermione added   

“She really wanted to get into the Auror program, and you need really good grades for that apparently, it’s why she didn’t come and say hello to me that year” Harry shrugged, “She was nice this morning though”   

Hermione and Harry packed up the rest of their things that had inexplicably gotten spread out around the room, as Hermione got ready to leave, and all too quickly in Harry’s opinion, after a rib breaking from his friend, Hermione was disappeared in the fireplace wreathed in viridian flames, leaving harry alone in the stately room.   

Chapter Text

Hermione had left to head home just over an hour ago. Harry had once again been ordered to take a potion by Dobby, a Vitamix potion this time, which for a change tasted surprisingly good. Quite delicate with a mix between fresh fruit and slightly melted ice cream. When he’d mentioned that to Dobby, he’d deflated a little when he was told that the Vitamix was usually a potion given to very young and fussy children that refused to eat healthily so it was made to taste nice on purpose.   

Still, Dobby made up for things for bringing out a delicious meal of herb encrusted grilled chicken, new potatoes with a garlic butter drizzle, and roasted vegetables and naturally followed by Harry’s favourite Treacle tart for dessert.   

With the rest of the evening left in front of him, Harry decided to take a proper look at the Potter Grimoire, he’d wanted to dive straight into reading it earlier, but, since it was dangerous to even touch for someone that wasn’t a Potter, he’d fought the desire. Not wanting to let any chance of Hermione getting hurt by the book.   

Settling into the window seat, a reading light popped into existence just above his head, even if it was still early evening and with the long summer days now taking hold it would be light for some time yet. Looking inside the swirl of golden magic in the Potter ring he called out to the Grimoire and felt it respond and watched, still taken back by the wonder of the book materializing in his hand. The smooth worn black leather journal felt warm to his touch, and magic danced under its covers and within its pages.   

Harry reverently opened the cover and read the words that greeted him. Written on velum in deep black ink, the words of his ancestors. The Latin it was written in flowed and changed before his very eyes into English.  

“ To you my descendants I leave these words so you may know the history of our family. My name is Hardwin Potter, the son of Iolanthe Potter nee Peverell and Linfred Potter. As i write these words I feel the weight of the duty that is placed upon us. A duty that was brought to our name by my mother, the last of the Peverell’s.   

It is with a heavy heart that I lay down these words, for my mother has not long gone from this world and my grief is still near. But there are stories and tales that must be told. That must be passed on. I had thought to put off setting my thoughts and memories to indelible words until my sons are grown. Yet the ever-wise council of my wife, Ynnaed has given me the cause to do so when she reminded me that this world is dangerous. Death will take us all in the end and does not give forewarning as to when she comes. This is something I should know all too well after the loss of my own father just shy of my own majority.   

Before I begin the tales of my parents, I shall extend to you the words my mother spoke to me of the purpose that we are bound to, and she had confirmed that her legacy had truly been passed down to me. When magic recognised that I was as much a Peverell as a Potter, for magic cares not for the name of its wielder, and so shall it be for all those that share my blood.   

The duty we are bound to my son, is one set by the heroes of the past. We exist to protect the balance of light and dark, to allow the gift of Magic to flourish to all those who bear it.  I speak not of light and dark my child. For the spells of the Light and the Dark arts are but a hearth fire to raging infernos that exist in our wide wild world. We protect the Balance, People and Magic itself from those extremes and those who would seek to wield them. From the Black Artes, and those who would meddle with souls, who Defile the dead with Necromancy, and those that would make deals with demons and with entities that have no right to meddle with our plane. We Protect those who would seek to wield powers that no longer have place in our world, to those that would seek the Ancient White Scriptures of the High Elves, that would unleash magics so powerful that they should never have been created in the vain hope that they might do something good. Magics that distort reality and interrupt the laws of nature and magic itself. So that something like the destruction of Atlantis is never seen again. So, I shall train you my child, I will train you to be powerful, to be strong. I will train you to hunt the wicked and the cruel and to show them no mercy. I will teach you how to dissuade those who seek knowledge that should never be known.   

My mother was born in the winter of 977 to Melania and Artorius Peverell, by her reckoning she had a good childhood if a little sheltered. By the reckoning of others, however, most would consider it somewhat bizarre and perhaps even cruel.  

My mother grew up with a great deal of pressure, as she was the only child of the last of the Peverell’s herself, her father. And as such had a duty to fulfil; a duty that now falls to the Potter’s. She was taught from young age in all forms of magic. From the brewing of tinctures, philtres and potions to the magic of combat, she was instructed in rituals and in the matter of growing plants. Now you may indeed think this a natural thing and is a good, even education as the education of the young should be; but it is rarely started at the age of 3 and nor is such expectations of greatness supposed to lain at the feet of a babe. When my mother used to regale us with stories of learning from four of the greatest witches and wizards ever to grace our shores, and indeed she truly did consider learning from the likes of Salazar, Helena, Rowena and her cousin Godric a great honour. But when she spoke of the lessons her parents ordered her to learn a darkness would creep in the shadows of her eyes.   

For she was taught and taught far too young about the existence of the Black Artes and of the White Scriptures. I have been trained in such things by my mother and our allies, such is the nature of our family now. But my mother had the grace and mercy to not begin such teachings until I had already attained some mastery of the art of magic and had left the halls of Hogwarts. She was not given such an option, and such teachings left a mark upon her.   

Yet never let it be said that my mother did not rise to the occasion and grow to become a formidable warrior, and a scholar of some renown. She began her duty, to guard the balance, to ensure magic itself is respected. To prevent and destroy those who would meddle in the Black Artes and those that would disrupt the Scriptures of magic. It was through this duty, that she would lose everything.  

It was 995 by the mundane Calander, and rumours of a necromancer had begun to reach the ears of both the magical and even the mundane. Necromancy being of the Black Artes my mother sought to find the source of such rumours and if there be any truth to them to eradicate those meddling with such a foul practice. Yet the rumours of the weakening Peverell’s had travelled far, and the six other families bound by oath in the blood shed at Camlann to safeguard the realm, were facing their own assaults to contend with at the time. Yet unknown to them they were being diverted.   

Before she could venture forth to hunt the cabal of necromancers, they struck first. Armies of the dead, fortified in the blood of the innocent and bearing marks of vile entities from beyond our plane attacked Peverell Castle. The Horrors she spoke of that day, and only did she ever speak of it once to me, does not bear repeating. The castle did not last long with only three Peverell’s and a small contingent of Wixen Bannermen to defend it. Though it must be stated that the small host of mundane guards fought with a valour that in another age would have won them the respect of the Knights of the Round.   

In the end Artorius ordered my mother to flee, an order she attempted to defy I should state, to the point that she had to be bound and sent away through an experimental transportation named a Port Key. Being experimental it malfunctioned and did not send my mother to the keep of our Allies the Longbottom’s but sent her to the top of the Valley in which Peverell castle stood some 30 miles away. Before she could push off the sickness brought on by the method of travel and make her way back into the valley to rejoin the fray, she saw the last resort of Peverell Castle activate. A piece of buried magic, of the White Scripture, kept as a last resort to ensure that the Peverell Keep and its treasures could never be captured by those that would misuse it. The outburst of magic was so great that everything living within five hours walk in every direction was rendered to powder. My mother described trees being piles of black soot. Nothing remained.   

She was devastated, she had lost nearly everything but the foci in her hand, the armour on her body and the treasured cloak of the Peverell’s. In a daze, filled with grief, anger at the enemies that had brought her family to the brink of extinction, she wandered the wilds of Morgannwg for days without direction or purpose, wounded from the battle and exposure to the portkey. It was then by chance, a little luck, and by what my mother fondly called, a nudge of fate, she encountered a wandering wizard. Though from my father's perspective it was quite different. To quote my father, “A shambling wild woman, clad in shattered armour, who promptly passed out at my feet”   

Next, I come to the tale of my father, my father was a warm and kind man. A potioneer of great talent, whose recipes are still in great demand some fifteen years after his passing, and I do not see them waning in popularity any time soon. He, unlike my mother grew up in a small enclave of Magicals on the border of Northumbria and Mercia and was raised in the fashion of the hedgewix, where magic is taught by parents and neighbours to the youth of the enclave. He quickly was found to have great sense in dealing with magical plants and their interactions in brewing, and no small skill in magic without a foci.  

He spent all his childhood there and much of his teenaged years before news of his skill with potions, which he eagerly shared with neighbours and with the nearby mundane village at little cost. Reached the ears of the scholars of Hogwarts. Which at the time had only opened its doors some 30 years. He was invited as an adult to learn more formal magic, and to relay his skill with potions to those who wished to learn, he eagerly taught all he knew at the time to the teachers at the school before finishing his formal education.   

Not wishing to return to the enclave, he made his way to the eastern banks of the Saeferne river in search of new magical plants to cultivate. He made the acquaintance of a thane in the village of Stinchcombe, after saving the life of his son who had grievously injured himself and was invited to the village that he would call his home for the next ten years. He would come up with some remarkable potions that could assist in the regrowing of bone and ward against sickness.   

Some years later he would embark on a trip from Mercia into the valleys of the country across the river Saeferne. and in search of new magical plants he would stumble across my mother, wounded, delirious, and magically exhausted and she would promptly pass out at his feet. Being the kindly gentle soul that he was he immediately leapt to assist with potions and no small skill in healing magic. he dealt with her wounds, bundled her in warm blankets and set a makeshift camp in a hollow next to a stone circle.   

I have the pleasure of knowing the next part of the tale from both my mother and father and cannot help but to smile at the memory of the warmth and love I saw in their eyes when they told me and my siblings this tale when we were young. My mother woke sharply two days later, still tormented by the battle she had fled and the devastation of her home. But my father with kind words managed to calm her and reassure her that he meant no harm. The two stayed in that hollow for some weeks as he slowly attempted to heal my mother from her physical ailments. As they spent this time together, they told each other a little about their circumstances and by the time she was well enough to travel, they had both fallen deeply in love with each other, and could not bear to travel in different directions. My father invited my mother to recuperate further at his home in Stinchcombe, and she felt like she had nowhere else to go and accepted. According to them both, my mother's arrival in Stinchcombe did indeed set the village gossips abuzz with rumour as she carried herself with the grace of a noble, which by truth she was, yet she was living with the strange but kind medicine man that lived at the outskirts.   

Time passed, and the wounds of loss began to feel less raw, and the two married in the manner of our kind, with a sworn vow on their magic, in the stone circle next to which they camped years before. So enamoured with the place where they that my mother braved the desolation of the old Peverell estate to retrieve the ward stones which somehow had escaped the destruction wrought by the Last Resort and set them up to cover the circle and the lands surrounding it, making it their home. And a year later, it would become mine.   

My mother, however, was not one to sit around while she recuperated, even while she rested in Stinchcombe she sent messages to the other six families, informing them of what had happened, trusting them to deal with the Mott while she figured out where to go from there. She Learned that it was a coordinated attack against the Seven Families, though with pyrrhic fortune, also learned that the leaders of the attack had perished at Peverell estate scattering their forces to the wind.   

I grew in a home filled with warmth, love and kindness. Quickly followed by my brothers and sisters, learning magic at my parents' knees until such time I was sent for formal schooling at Hogwarts. At the age of 15 I was deemed proficient in the arts taught there and granted status as a Wizard in full. Returning home my parents were greatly pleased by my achievements and were justly proud of me, as I was of myself. Yet it was time now to see if I could take the mantle of the Peverell magic. It was an uncertain thing, as I did not bear the Peverell name, and my mother was worried that the magic of the Peverell family, its deeds, titles and duties would remain with her alone and not pass to me. Through the use of a ritual, one of my mother's own constructions and with the assistance of the Goblin Kingdom, a labour which had taken her nigh on a decade.    

By the grace of Hecate, it was discovered that I had indeed had the ability to take the Peverell family upon my shoulders. With some discussion between myself, my mother and father it was decided that the family magics would merge, that we would allow the Peverell name to fade into history and to wrap it into the cloak of what would become the House of Potter, to attempt to convince our enemies think we are gone, all so we may strike them from the shadows like our kin and allies the Blacks.   

The month before my majority at the age of 17, a tragedy struck, though not through maliciousness but misfortune, as a potion experiment that my father was working had a catastrophic reaction resulting in his most horrific wounding. There was nothing that we could do for him, we even went so far as to call for a Healer from the Longbottom's, alas there was naught to be done and he would succumb to his injuries a week later.  

Now it comes to my part in the tale proper. With the death of my father, I was expected to take the mantle of the family, which is exactly what I did, yet my training in my Peverell heritage was only just beginning. Upon my 17 th birthday I attended the tri annual meeting of the Mott. I remember it fondly, greeting all our allies in one place. Contending with the stares of those who thought me an upstart as I bore the Potter name, not the Peverell. Oh, if I could capture an image of the shock on their faces when the emblem on the Peverell Chair in the Circle of the Seven, transformed into the stag we had chosen, announcing to all that the Potters had taken the place of the Peverell's. I faced three challenges from other minor families of the Mott for such an act, but I am well trained.   

It would be another five years, to solidify my position and to start training my siblings in more advanced battle magic, in the use of weaponry that most Wix consider beneath them. But out situation is secure, the Peverell duties and oaths are tended by us in full, and no other can claim them.   

So, what does this mean for you, my descendants. This is a matter you must decide for yourself. You are not alone in this task, there are others, unless the situation is so dire that the other families can no longer deal with such things. If such is the case then you must lead the way, forge a new path. Find new allies and reunite with old ones, if possible, punish those that break their oaths to us and the heroes of Camlann. The might of our family's magic will stand with you, to bolster you when needed, from the distant past I tell you this descendant. I believe in you. For like the Peverell's before us, we Potters stand unyielding against the tide, Vigilance and Virtue, Protect the Balance.   

Harry felt pride fill him for the duty that his family had held for so very long. And then the weight of the burden upon his shoulders, but it didn’t feel crushing somehow. He felt a warmth creep from the white gold ring on his finger and grow to curl around his shoulders almost relieving him of some of the weight. Harry turned the page and continued reading and was overjoyed to find another account of his ancestors, this time the son of Hardwin, who spoke about his own life, the growing of the Potter estate. There were countless messages of his ancestors in these pages, and Harry drank them all in, treasuring every word, every piece of advice.   

----  

Though the account of one Alain Potter at the time when the statute of secrecy was being enacted did give him another thing to consider.  Alain talked about the Mott, now called the Wizengamot, having heated discussions on the matter of Muggle Borns.   

There were many that called for a strict binding to be placed on any Wix born to muggle parents, to ensure the secrecy of the world. There were even those who claimed that muggleborns were stealing magic. Alain had thought such ideas to be “the height of folly” and went on to describe that it was his belief that most muggleborns were the re-emergence of magic from squibs that had been cast out from the magical families. He put forward a motion to ensure that every witch or wizard born to mundane parents receive a blood test from the Goblin Nation to ascertain their heritage.   

The motion was soundly defeated by the majority, most long-lasting families not wanting uncontrolled mundane raised claimants to their family. However, Harry was surprised to see, Alain stated proudly that he would personally sponsor the testing of the next 200 mundane born to pass the doors of Gringotts. Harry wasn’t surprised to learn that Alain earned the ire of the Wizengamot for such a stunt. He was surprised however, to learn the results of such testing though. That while most mundane born as Alain started calling them, were the result of magic re-emerging from a descendant of a squib. That a small percentage, around 20 of the 200 tests performed, showed no link whatsoever to any magical blood.   

When Alain presented these findings to the Wizengamot, much to the irritation of the sitting members that he had gone ahead with the plan. Considering it had unearthed a great deal of bother in the form of lost relatives, affairs with mundane women and three counts of successful line theft by use of potion, compulsion and Polyjuice.   

Harry realised he very much liked this ancestor, he seemed to cause as much trouble as he himself did, the only difference being that Alain did it on purpose if the snarky commentary that seemed to consist of most of Alain’s entry in the grimoire. The announcement that there were indeed those with the ability to wield magic born with seemingly no link to any major magical family caused a little concern for the many of the Wizengamot. There were those that sought to use these first bloods as a weapon against the Potters, and a motion was raised and carried by those that had been impacted by Alain’s blood testing spree. To charge the Potter family with the seeking of these new magicals, and entrusted them with their care until they could seek their own fortunes.   

Alain, Harry read, did not consider this a burden or a punishment by those he’d offended, and he threw himself into the duty with gusto. Calling Wix born with spontaneous magic, a Genesis, or Geneses in plural. He had offered to the Wizengamot to provide the funds for every Wixen born to non magicals to receive a blood test to ascertain whether they were indeed a Genesis. This was immediately shot down, and he was ordered to either figure out a means to determine such status another way, or to treat every muggle born as if they were a genesis.   

Alain was quite verbose in his insults at this point as he realised exactly how the Wizengamot were attempting to punish him, he must seek and care for his Geneses or be found in violation of a Wizengamot ordinance. But he could not use Goblin blood testing to determine who was a Genesis and not. The Wizengamot was attempting to drain the Potter treasury by forcing him to financially care for every mundane born, as there was no way to determine who was and was not a Genesis without magical testing. All was not lost however, the Greengrass’s, The Longbottom’s and The Bones’s were willing to assist with this new measure and set up a fund to take the weight of financial pressure away from the Potters alone while they searched for a new method.  

It took years of research but a method of detecting a Genesis was eventually created, A rune inscribed tablet was created, that when a hand was placed upon the tablet would cause the tablet to glow blue if a Genesis had touched it, or golden if someone with magical heritage going back 3000 years had touched it.   

At seeing this Harry quickly called the satchel over to him with a wandless pull and delved within its depths for the ledger. Paging though the artefacts section quickly he came across three items listed as a Genesis Finder within the Potter Vaults in Gringotts. He made a mental note to retrieve one, or at least to bring Hermione to see it if she was interested.   

Settling back into the window seat, he glanced at the world outside which falling from day to night, the rain having stopped and the clouds beginning to break apart showing hints of the darkening skies, the setting sun painting the broken clouds in a vibrant display of glorious golden hues, mixed in with pinks, reds and oranges. Harry returned to the Grimoire.   

Alain’s section was the longest he’d read thus far, it seems that his ancestor treated the grimoire as something of a journal, though there was nothing that was anywhere near as major as the discovery of people who truly were muggleborn. Thats not to say they weren’t entertaining, Alain was a prankster and a trouble magnet at heart, and he wrote often of his latest upset at the Wizengamot, or the countless times he was called out in an honour duel for some slight he’d delivered at someone.  

Alain had always written his justifications for such slights in the Grimoire, but most importantly, he’d always won his duels. Harry got the impression that Alain tended to cover the seriousness, the power and steel he had deep inside in a shroud of jokes and a devil may care attitude.   

But he stuck to his morals, his own code of honour, and he deeply cared for those he loved. It was this Alain, he was surprised to learn, that was the Potter that Neville had mentioned in passing what seemed like months ago in the library. After a Necromancer had meddled with the dead left over from the Plague that had ravaged the country in 1667 and had forced a Potter and a Longbottom in a deadly situation where they had to hold a bridge for days until reinforcements from the other allied families could arrive. And hold they did, not just for three days like Neville had said, but for five. Alains entries ended in 1697, when he passed peacefully in his sleep at 193 years of age. The longest-lived Potter in the entries by nearly 100 years, it was a worrying trend Harry noticed that Potters rarely passed of natural causes. The next lord only lived for 70 years before an assassin had taken his life leaving his daughter Euphemia in charge. Harry read through the accounts of the next couple of Potter Lords and Ladies until he reached a name he recognised, that of his Grandfather Charlus Potter, son of Fleamont and Euphemia Potter.   

Charlus was born in 1880, according to the writings of Euphemia, who led a relatively quiet life, for a Potter at least, before she was killed in battle against a group of Wizards from America who had broken into a temple in Athens which had rumours of fragments of White Scripture being stored there. The fragment had indeed been there but had been moved by the Seven Families several decades previous. Euphemia was something of a diplomatic sort and had unfortunately let her combat skills drop substantially since she had been trained as a young woman. The Wizards, however, were very skilled and immediately reached for their own wands and killed her in cold blood before she could speak, leaving Charlus as a Lord Apparent since he was only 11 when his mother had been killed in 1891.  

Harry paid close attention to Charlus’s entries, being able to finally put a face to the name on the page, having spoken to the man, he could picture him in his exploits as he described attending Hogwarts, a proud Gryffindor, with a keen eye for potions and defence against the dark arts.   

The entries skipped a period restarting when Charlus was grown and serving as a strike group leader in the trenches of World War One. A Dark Witch had taken advantage of the chaos in the Mundane world and had attempted a mass blood ritual to seize power for themselves. She had managed to hold several battalions' worth of Mundane Soldiers under a control spell. It was not Black Artes but more than dangerous enough to warrant intervention from several Wixen countries. The British Wixen had sent nearly 100 Aurors under the command of Charlus Potter, Arcturus Black, Iris Bones and Franklin Longbottom. The fighting was bloody and the British, American, and French forces along with ICW hit wizards had to tear through the controlled Mundane soldiers to reach the Dark Lady Zannah’s wixen forces and deal with them before dealing with Zannah herself.   

Harry wondered why on earth this sort of thing wasn’t being covered in History of Magic classes, surely a inter country wizarding conflict that had spilled over and nearly broken the statute of secrecy should be something important to cover. Not to mention that it was as thrilling as it was brutal to read about. Perhaps it was because the situation only lasted around two months before Zannah was captured.   

The entries from Charlus skipped once again and restarted in 1932, the day that the Grindelwald war had broken out. Harry was once again transfixed by his grandfather's entries as he described the situation. The Dark Lord Grindelwald had begun causing problems early in 1925 with his involvement in a major Statute breach in New York. His imprisonment by MACUSA and his escape two years later had caught the watchful eye of the Seven families. While the man was a threat to the statute of secrecy, as his actions in Paris that year proved and was worthy of keeping an eye on for that reason alone. It was not until 1932 when Albus Dumbledore and Newt Scamander revealed that he had attempted to seize the office of Chief of the ICW through the use of a Reanimated Qilin, it was made apparent to the Seven Families that Grindelwald was a far greater threat than was realised. For if he had dabbled in the Black Arte of Necromancy then how else could he threaten the balance.   

Charlus wrote of that the Seven families had met immediately following the events of the Bhutan summit to decide on an action. There was a disturbing level of support for the wizard even in Britain with several of his followers coming from notable British wixen families, names such as Rosier and Carrow becoming some of his most trusted followers and Lieutenants. There were actions taken in the shadows by the Families against Grindelwald for several years, yet nothing open occurred until the beginning of a war in 1939 that would set the world aflame. When the Wixen world realised that Grindelwald was openly flouting the statute of secrecy by embedding his own forces, which he called the Alliance into Axis Forces, and that an alarming number of them used Black Artes in some form. This confirmed to the Families, that they needed to involve themselves openly with and make others aware of just how dangerous Grindelwald truly was, threat to the Statute or not.   

The Potter’s alongside many teams from the other families took to the battlefields by 1940, often setting their raids to coincide with the British Military’s Special Operation’s Executive actions, with the goal of causing as much damage to both the Mundane and Magical war machine, burning body stores to prevent Necromancy, intercepting dig teams in Egypt that were pursuing White Scripture artefacts and spells.   

Charlus wrote sparingly in the Grimoire regarding the specifics of the war, but Harry could read between the lines, the fighting was brutal, and it took its toll on Charlus. Harry read about both sides fighting to kill, as the stakes were just far too high for it to be anything else. “Grindelwald’s forces were fanatical in their belief of “The Greater Good” and meeting their almost religious fervour with anything less than cold hearted ruthlessness, would simply get yourself or your allies killed, We realised this the hard way when I buried my younger brother, after a raid where we attempted to disable the enemy rather than put them down”.    

The next large entry was dated 1945 and spoke of the final day of the Wixen part of World War Two, The siege of Nurmenguard Castle. The heads of all the Seven Families had gathered to take part in this attack. Charlus Potter, Arcturus Black, Xander Longbottom, Iris Bones, Meliana Olivander, Evander Greengrass and Cyril Nott. They and their chosen fighters were to be the distraction to buy time and create an opening for the ICW teams along with Albus Dumbledore to engage and remove Grindelwald from the board. Charlus wrote that the fighting was the most brutal and horrific that he’d ever been a part of. Grindelwald’s forces cast dark and black magic spells at them relentlessly, the sort of spells that required specific counter curses, incredibly powerful shields far beyond a simple Protego, or to simply not get hit by the spell. The battle raged for five hours straight, and the casualties on both sides were grave, of the contingent of nearly 2000 aurors, hit wizards and combat teams that took part in the assault on the castle, only 500 remained. Among the dead were, Xander Longbottom and his team of 20, Cyril Nott and his household guard, Iris Bones, and of the Potter contingent only Charlus alone remained alive.   

Harry felt a pit form in his stomach, he’d never taken the time to read the facts about any of the wizarding world wars, even the one that had claimed his parents' lives. He knew the facts and figures about the muggle wars of course, he had gone through muggle primary school after all, and he did enjoy history, at least he did until he sat a class taught by Binns. But 1500 wixen dead on one side alone. It barely compared to the enormity of the loss of life on the mundane side, but the Wixen world was far smaller, each loss reverberated further.   

“ And so, we come to the end of the Supremacy War, which some busybody “historians” are already calling it. My self, Greengrass, Olivander and Black called for the immediate execution of Grindelwald, not just for our own vengeance and desire to see one of the direst threats to the balance erased, but for the sheer magnitude of his crimes against both our and the Mundane world. But in his own wisdom, Albus Dumbledore “The Hero of Nurmenguard” they are already calling him. Pah, as skilled a duellist that he must be to take Grindelwald down, he was far from the only hero on the field that day. In his infinite wisdom and his newfound political power that he has garnered from being the man that took down a dark lord has called for leniency, to have the monsters magic bound and for him to face imprisonment for all his days”   

Charlus wrote, his anger evident as the flowing lines of his normally rather pretty quillmanship became jagged and harsh, the nib of the quill digging deep into the velum pages of the Grimoire.   

Harry continued to read the following entries, which were spaced by a year or so, as Charlus wrote about joining the hunt for any surviving members of Grindelwald's Alliance, not wanting to let the possibilities of a Black Magic user escape. The entries of this sort continued until 1950 where they stopped, after Charlus returned home to Britain, and reunited with an old flame, that he had come to know well in during the war, Dorea Black, Arcturus’s sister; The two would be married months later.   

Harry was delighted to see the entries resume in 1959 where Charlus, his tone warm even through the written word, and Harry could practically feel the warmth, pride and joy pour from the page as Charlus announced that after nearly a decade of trying, Dorea was pregnant, and they had decided to call him James if he was boy, and Cassandra, if she was a girl. A short entry was later added announcing James Polaris Potter’s birth on the 27 th of March 1960.   

Harry once again cursed his grandfather's chronic dislike of constantly updating the Grimoire, but then again, the Grimoire wasn’t really supposed to be a Journal, but a record of significant events of the Potter family. Perhaps Charlus kept other more regular journals elsewhere that Harry could look for.   

Harry’s stomach began to feel heavy once again as he saw that the next update was listed in 1972, where the entries started to once again take a darker turn. Charlus wrote about suspicions of a new rising dark power in Britain, one based on blood prejudice, politics and murder. Charlus wrote about the startling disappearances of noted mundane born activists, and the brutal and gruesome murder of Nobby Leach the former and the only Mundane born Minister for Magic. But information was scarce, and the seven families had been greatly diminished in the years following the Supremacy War. Cyril’s son Tiberius had never taken the lordship after his father's death. Refusing anything to do with the Seven Families and taking a demotion in house status by refusing the Nott family magic and using only its political power. Xander’s grandson Frank Longbottom had risen to the occasion but hadn’t had the full training and had barely reached his majority, Xander’s son Franklin had succumbed to curse damage taken at Nurmenguard in 1957. Arcturus had practically lost control of the family after the curses he had taken during the war had forced him to slow down, He did not have the health to run the family. and as such many Blacks had disregarded their heritage, to the point, that Charlus had noted, that Arcturus's grandson, Sirius, was spending more time at the Potter estate than at the Black townhouse in London where he grew up.   

Harry knowing what he did, saw that Charlus was clearly writing about as the opening moves of Voldemort’s campaign. Sowing fear, and discord amongst the Wixen populace from the shadows. The entries got more and more ominous and scary, as Lord Voldemort openly declared himself in 1974, Charlus wrote about the paralyzing fear that had gripped the populace, the raids on people who stood against him ramping up, the Ministry failing to do anything against group calling themselves The Death Eaters that were now practically waging open war on the Mundane born populace with impunity. There were sparks of hope and light in 1977 where Charlus wrote about his son's engagement to an incredibly bright and strong Genisis Witch, even if he did have doubts about how quickly that their relationship was moving. But even if he had doubts, there was no denying how happy the two were, and he would never begrudge their happiness in such dark times.       

The next entry Harry saw and was pained to see knowing what was coming, and that he wouldn’t be seeing his dad’s handwriting on the next page, were the last two entries. Dated August 2nd, 1980, two days after he was born. Charlus wrote “ Our family grows once more; oh, it does feel good to have spark of hope in these black times. The situation is worse than ever, yet I find myself burgeoned with hope for the first time in many years. He was so small, but he is the most precious thing in the world to me, Dorea, James and Lily, even Sirius dotes on him promising all sorts of fun and mischief. Thank Merlin for Lily, if he was to be raised by James and Sirius alone, he would be a terror and a prankster before he could walk! We witnessed the Godfather ritual performed by Sirius and Alice at dawn this morning, this boy, young Hadrian, will be so loved.”   

Harry hesitated before beginning the next entry, not wanting this to end.  

January 1 st , 1981  

It has been three months since James, Lily and Harry went into hiding, and my wish to see them grows ever stronger, even as I feel myself grow weaker. Dorea passed away some two days ago, I laid her to rest in the family crypt on the grounds. It’ll not be long now till I join her. This illness is like none I've ever suffered, I suspect foul play, even the elves are ailing. Merlin knows I have enough enemies, but this one I lay at Voldemort's feet. Ever since my son and his family went into hiding, there have been attempts on our wards. It is only now I thank Dumbledore for convincing them to go into hiding elsewhere, I could not bear it if they were stuck here with me, afflicted by this same disease. Dumbledore had some other reason for begging them to go into hiding, a reason that he would not share, I hated him for it, but now I think I am grateful, even if he does go about with a Peverell heirloom strapped to his arm as a prize, the meanest of the heirlooms I'll grant him, but an heirloom none the less.” Charlus’s handwriting grew steadily more disjointed, and erratic, the occasional misspelling crossed out, as if writing had become an ordeal for the man   

“I leave these words for my Son and Grandson, my boys, oh my boys, I am not a devout man, but I pray to Hecate and to magic, that this darkness ends for you to grow in the light. Never forget that you are loved, I will have one chance to speak with you, whomever wears our ring next. But that time will be short. I have lived a long life, but not an easy one, there is danger in this world, I have enacted Last of Line Protocols just in case. James, Harry, I am sorry I will not be around to see you grow into the fine men I know you will become. To whomever reads this next, use this spells that follow in this book, they are spells built for War, and in defence of others, created and laid down by our ancestors, and when the time comes, add your own entries and spells. Unbowed, Unbroken, Vigilance and Valour unto the end.”   

Tears were flowing before he even realised it, Harry didn’t even know when they started but they came, thick and heavy, a dull ache gripped his heart as Harry mourned the love he barely remembered. But to see it written, in the hand of a ghost, whose voice he’d heard a few days prior through some miracle of magic. Curling up into a ball, gripping the pages of the book tightly to his chest chasing the warmth of the hands that had touched its pages, wishing beyond all measure that he could feel those hands wrapped around him, holding him close just once. Acting on his desire, and something deep inside him, something that felt ancient and everlasting, a golden light poured from the ring and swirled around him, holding him tight. In exhaustion, grief and emotion he didn’t even feel Dobby come close, levitating him with his own form of magic, before tucking him into bed.   

Chapter Text

Harry felt disorientated as he dredged himself up from the deepest slumber he’d experienced in a long while. He half expected to see the familiar sight of the Hospital ceiling at Hogwarts, thinking he must have taken another bludger that had messed with his head. He was quite surprised to see a barely recognizable ceiling above him and it took five minutes of attempting to order his thoughts before he remembered where he was.   

Still bleary eyed and his mind foggy, he lethargically pulled the sheets off of himself and slowly sat up, blinking the sleep from his eyes. The door to the bedroom opened tenuously before the quiet of the morning was broken.    

“Yous is being awake Master Harry” Dobby exclaimed, as he rushed into the room.   

“Dobby?” Harry said groggily.  

“Good Mornings, Master Harry, yous be sleeping lates today, but yous be needing it after yous being up lates reading last night.” Dobby stated, placing a tray of breakfast onto the bed next to Harry, and pushing a potions vial into his hand.  

“What happened last night Dobby? I don’t really remember getting into bed” Harry spoke as he inwardly churned remembering how he broke down after reading last message from his grandfather.   

“Dobby puts yous to bed last nights, yous be very upset after you finished yous reading” Dobby said sadly. “Can Dobby be doing anythings for you?”   

Harry shook his head, when he saw the disheartened look on Dobby’s face “Sorry for getting so emotional Dobby” harry said glumly. “Me getting overwhelmed seems to be happening a lot lately”   

“Maybe yous can be asking Missus Tonks abouts it later? She be’s a healer, no?” Dobby replied trying to help.  

“ Ohhhh, Thats right, I'm supposed to be meeting Dora’s mum today” Harry said to himself, before flopping back against the pillows on the bed with a groan. He didn’t feel remotely up to it after the wringer he’d put himself through last night.   

“Now, now, Master Harry, you’s be needing to speak to healers, to be finding out where to gets replacement potions, goblin potions be good quality, but they be expensive” Dobby said cutting through Harry’s moroseness.   

“Speakings of potions, you be drinking yours right away, it be later than normal, yous has slept in, it be almost midday”   

Harry shot up in the bed, reaching for his wand that’d been placed on the bedside table to cast a Tempus which showed it was 11:30.   

“Dora said she’d ask her mum to be at the leaky by 1pm, so I've got a bit of time” Harry mumbled as he pulled the stopper on the vial in his hand before eyeing the second bottle sitting on the breakfast tray. He didn’t recognise the one in his hand, and he was getting far too familiar with the revolting nutrient potion on his tray.   

“Which one is this Dobby?” He asked of the elf, shaking the small vial of pale blue potion in his hand.   

“That be bone strengthening draught, yous only be taking that one once a week”   

Harry nodded and pulled the stopper from the bottle, taking a breath and wondering just how bad this one was going to taste before quickly downing the concoction and discovering that it was probably the worst of the bunch. Acrid and tangy, with an odd chalky metalic feeling that stuck to his throat as the noxious liquid fought his attempt to swallow it. Harry quickly reached for a piece of toast and a gulp of juice to wash away the vile taste.   

After taking the other potion and quickly devouring his breakfast of eggs and bacon, Harry made his way through his morning routine of bathing, brushing his teeth and attempting to control his typically uncontrollable hair, he wasn’t successful in the slightest.  

He was still hesitating a little about meeting with Mrs Tonks, though he wasn’t totally sure about why he was hesitating. Perhaps it was meeting someone new? Or that they were an adult? Or was it that he just felt off balance with everything and was feeling overwhelmed.  

Shaking himself as he emerged from the bathroom to find one of his new outfits laid out for him on an already made bed. He fortified himself, he reminded himself that he really did need to figure out what was going on with his core, after all he had no idea what density A- meant in this case, was it good? was it bad? The Goblins could help him with his physical health, but they couldn’t help him with his core, it was fortunate that he’d bumped into Dora by chance, and she’d wanted him to meet her mother.   

He pulled on his new clothes enjoying every second of it, he’d felt this satisfaction of new clothes only a few times before, mostly with his uniform and his blue robes, but this felt a little different, even with his blue robes he’d still worn Dudley's undergarments, and ratty t-shirts underneath. But this time, he had brand new everything and it felt amazing. Dobby had laid out the new Midnight blue robe, a matching shirt and a pair of grey slacks. He’d decided to walk today, the weather outside was a delightful change from the dismal mist and rain of the last few days.  

Head held high he nodded to Alice, who’d been at the reception desk once again and strode out into Cardin Square. There was the lightest of a breeze dancing through the warm air, it lightly and playfully pulled at Harry's unwieldy locks as he made his way down Cardin alley towards the main thoroughfare of Diagon. When harry had first woken up he’d intended to go directly to the Cauldron. But when he’d gone to put on his trainers, their ratty, worn and all-around battered appearance made him remember that Madam Twilfit had recommended, no, had practically ordered him to visit a cobbler. Thinking of trying to wear those destroyed old trainers with his nice new robes, made him shiver slightly. So, he’d decided to leave early and visit. He was even more sure of his choice when he stepped in a puddle on the way there and felt his socks immediately grow wet.  

Oscar’s shop was small and cramped, the scent of leather and shoe polish suspended in the air, but the man evidently knew what he was doing and quickly outfitted Harry with a pair of black leather Monk style shoes with silver buckles. He then attempted to cajole Harry into buying a pair of boots for the cold weather at Hogwarts. He was partly successful as he extracted a promise from Harry to come back when he had more time. All in all, the visit probably took less than 15 minutes, he was beaming inside with his brand-new shoes showing just how bad those trainers had gotten with every step. Harry quickly walked down the main alley, as fast as he could without breaking into a run, sliding and dodging around the shoppers and wixen wandering around Diagon. Muttering his apologies whenever he got too close to colliding with some poor shopper. He managed to slip in behind a group of witches who’d just opened the poral to the exit of the Alley.   

Entering the Leaky Cauldron, Tom waved to him with a smile as he saw Harry, whose face was mildly flushed from the rush. Harry weaved his way through the lunch crowd, which he was startled to see was even busier than the breakfast crowd that he’d encountered the previous day, to speak with Tom.  

“Afternoon Harry, you weren’t kidding when you said, I'd be seeing you more often this summer” the barman, chuckled softly at his own joke as harry approached the bar. Harry smiled and lowered his head bashfully.  

“What can I help you with today then? A spot of lunch perhaps, Pea soup is the special of the day if you're interested, most aren't though which is a bit of shame” he said a little mystified.   

“No thanks tom,” harry grinned but shaking his head, he’d heard rumours of the infamous Leaky Cauldron’s Pea Soup before “I’m meeting someone, A Mrs. Tonk’s? But I don’t know what she looks like”   

“Oh I'd wondered what had brought Andy into town today, she don’t often come into the Leaky. She’s over there lad, third table to the right of the floo fire”   

“Thanks Tom” Harry said waving and heading in that direction, moving between the tables  

Harry slowed as he got near the area Tom had pointed out. His eyes scanning each of the tables looking for the woman he was meant to meet. There were a few open tables back here, after passing a group of elderly wizards, he spotted her, though it may be correct to say she spotted him, and by doing so made it obvious who he was there to meet.   

Andromeda Tonks was nervous to say the least, when Nymphadora had tumbled out of her fireplace at 7 in the evening completely un-announced the previous evening, she hadn’t expected the news she’d brought. Her daughter, normally loath to return home for anything but birthdays and holiday celebrations, though that's not to say she and her husband never saw her mind. They often met up in Hogsmeade or had lunch at the small wixen enclave in Brighton where Nymphadora was training and had her own small apartment. But to see Nym come flying out of her fireplace out of the blue made her certain that this was something important.   

She had then listened as Nymphadora began to talk about her day, which started normal, up at 5 for drills and early exercises, before being let off on a 2-hour break when her trainer Mad-eye got called out for something. How Nymphadora had decided to apparate to Diagon to get a spot of breakfast and by chance she happened to be there when a young boy came out of the fireplace and nearly into a group of witches opposite. Feeling sorry for the kid Nymphadora had grabbed him and steadied the boy.   

Andromeda was in shock when Nymphadora said that the boy in question was Harry Potter! Her sort of nephew and Dora’s own cousin, distant cousin, but cousin none the less. Smiling as her daughter described the boy as the spitting images of the photos of James, that she’d seen but that his eyes were all Lily’s. Andromeda was caught off guard when Dora immediately asked her to meet with the boy tomorrow at 1pm.  

 When she’d questioned Dora why she sounded so insistent and eager for her to meet Harry, she’d was concerned, first there was the fact that Harry was apparently staying by himself in Diagon alley, and the second far more concerning thing being that the boy needed to take a course of potions usually used for dealing with issues more commonly found in civilians that survived war zones for an extended period of time.   

She naturally said yes, she would gladly meet Harry the next day, chided her daughter for not bringing him to her immediately and got to tracking down all the disparate pieces of what was once, her field healer kit.   

The kit had naturally gotten split up amongst the cupboards and storage spaces of her modest house, such was the nature of things in a house that had the chaotic natures of Ted and Nymphadora Tonks living in it. But she’d managed to re-assemble, re-calibrate and purify the kit by midnight. Awash with memories of the last time she’d used this kit, attending the site of a Death Eater Massacre of a wizarding enclave in Sheffield, pushing back the memories of the screams of pain, the begging, and scent of blood and death the kit brought back to her. No, she was a healer, even after all this time, the head of curse removal at St. Mungo’s in fact, if she could help, she would.   

Leaving her nervously sitting at a table in the Leaky Cauldron the following lunch time. She was to everyone else’s eyes the picture of grace and elegance, hiding the nervousness deep inside, one of the few things that her parents and drilled into her and her sisters from a young age, that she hadn’t discarded when she’d run from the family and into her lover’s arms. She hadn’t discarded all their lessons, just all the ones she disagreed with.   

She was early, she couldn’t help it, it was awfully impolite to arrive too early, and she hoped that Harry wouldn’t pick up on that, she was desperate to make a good impression on the boy that should have been as good as a nephew to her, had the war not ended the way it did.   

Merlin, she’d helped deliver him, as she’d done for Alice and her boy not a few hours before. Sipping at daintily at a cup of fresh brewed tea, she watched the coming and goings of the tavern from her corner. She was not the best at dealing with crowds, hadn't been since the war, but for Lilly’s boy she’d do it. She didn’t have to wait long, spotting dark unruly hair that could only come from a Potter moving across the crowded room to speak with the barman, who pointed in her direction.   

The first thing that Harry noticed about Andromeda Tonks, was her body language. She didn’t like being here. He’d always been good at reading body language, the negative types at least. Knowing when someone was already angry or particularly volatile was necessary growing up. Mrs. Tonks seemed to be nervous, excited, and very wary for some reason. She was doing very well at hiding it though, siting with nearly perfect posture, and a serene, graceful expression on her face. Porcelain white skin with delicate and graceful features, framed with jet black hair cascading in rivulets of curls past her shoulders. She was vaguely familiar somehow, but he couldn’t quite place where he’d seen her like before.   

Walking up to the woman, he saw the now obvious mask she was wearing crack and break as her true personality broke through when she spotted him, a gentle and warm smile bloomed across her features, washing the nervousness from the shoulders and bringing a spark of joy to her stormy silver eyes.   

“Umm, hello? are you Mrs. Tonks?” He asked tenuously   

Sitting back in her chair looking more relaxed than she’d been before, she nodded, a faint sheen appearing in her eyes.   

“Yes, Dear, yes I am.” she spoke softly with a graceful nod.   

Harry stood there, unsure of what to do next, Mrs. Tonks took the lead, he thanked her in his head.  

“Well, then, it has been nearly twelve years and eleven months since I've seen you last by my reckoning” She said with a smile, “But even then, I'd recognise your mothers' eyes anywhere, I'd hoped our first proper meeting would have been on better terms than my daughter barrelling out of my floo yesterday evening and begging me to meet with you” she said with a note of jest in her tone.   

“I’m sorry if I'm taking up too much of your time Ma’am” Harry immediately responded eyes shooting down to the ground.  

“Now now dear, none of that, I'd have met with you that night if it were possible, it’s not often you get to meet a child you helped deliver now, not in my line of healing work that is. Even still you are the son of one of my best friends, I’ve tried to find you many times across the years, and I'm sorry that I was unsuccessful” she said apologetically noting the way that Harry closed off a little and tried to get things back on track.  

“Though my daughter did indicate that you might like my perspective as a healer on a few issues you have? If so, a busy dinning establishment might not be the best of venues for such a chat, shall I see if I can arrange for tom to set up a private room here?”   

Harry was still attempting to process what Mrs. Tonks had said about her being the one to deliver him, but he filed that away for later as she asked if he’d like to be somewhere else for privacy. Should he let her into his suite at the hotel? It would make sense; it was private after all, as well as being the most comfortable. That and Dobby was there if he needed his help for anything. But first he should find out where to get his replacement potions.   

He shook his head, before speaking.   

“I’ve got a place where we can go after, it’s where I'm staying” he said   

“After, my dear?” she questioned   

“Um, I don’t think this meeting would have even happened if hadn’t asked Dora where I could buy the potions I need yesterday” He replied   

“She lets you call her Dora?” Mrs. Tonks said a little stunned, her daughter was very firm on people using her surname as her form of address.  

Harry nodded.  

“hmm, she’s fond of you already then, good” She said with a smile “and yes, I can show you the best place to get your potions, do you have a full list?” She questioned rising from the chair and picking up a small purse.  

“Right here Ma’am” he replied   

“Oh, none that dear, please call me Andy” she said joyfully “Now then, if its medical grade potions you want, then the best place for that is a shop called Blue Bottles on Horizonte Alley. Would you like to head there?” she asked as she began to move towards the portal to the alleyway out back.  

“Yes please” He replied, swiftly following along   

The two moved quickly, the streets and main thoroughfares were quiet compared to the packed rooms of the Cauldron. They didn’t talk much, mostly Andy pointing out to Harry where there were useful shortcuts or particularly good shops.   

They quickly arrived at the shop Andy had suggested and made their way inside, it was quite a nice change of pace for wizarding shops Harry thought as he peered around. A lot of shops he’d found were a little too enthusiastic on cluttered, and if he was being honest, dingey angle for his tastes. Bluebottles, however, was bright and airy. A large single pane glass window made up the entirety of the shopfront, there was one shelf accessible to customers, on the right-hand side as soon as you entered the door Andromeda said they were regular potions, headache cures, hangover remedies, low powered Wiggen-weld or pepper up potions. There was a nice bit of open space, filled with plush and comfortable looking armchairs and sofas opposite it for people to sit as they waited for their orders.   

“Good afternoon welcome to blu.... Andy? Oh, hello dear, it's been a while what can I do for you, is everything alright?” a voice called, jumping from professional to delighted to concerned rapidly.   

It took harry a moment to realise that a head had popped its way around the corner of a door behind the counter. A witch came bustling out of the backroom, long blonde hair tied up in a tight bun, a dark what seemed to be dragon leather apron put on over expensive robes.   

“Harry, I’d like you to meet an old friend of mine from my field healer days, Lady Eliana Greengrass” Andromeda announced.  

Damn, Greengrass was one of the seven Most Ancient and Noble families Harry remembered quickly, how was he going to handle this? his mind quickly searching through what Neville had taught him what seemed like months ago now. Damn it he really should have looked up those meeting protocols. he only remembered the greeting as an equal bow, if he did that one, he’d either have to come across as rude and presumptive of his station as he really shouldn’t even be more than an Heir presumptive yet let alone a Lord Apparent. Bugger it he was running out of time, any longer and he’d get stared at, oh well, Gryffindor’s charge ahead he supposed.   

“Well met Lady Greengrass” He intoned, placing his left hand atop his right and pressing his palm into his chest before lowering his head in a small bow. Since he needed to give a reason why he was giving an equal bow to a Lady of a Great House he gave the Potter ring a nudge mentally and willed it to appear, he’d keep the Black ring hidden though, no need to open that particular can of worms just yet.   

When he looked up at the two women in the shop, he found that they were both looking at him in shock, Lady Greengrass was the first to recover, blinking off her shock she immediately responded by returning the bow “Merry Meet Lord Potter” She responded, unable to hide the trace of shock in her voice. He was surprised that Andromeda immediately went into a much deeper bow, with her hands clasped together above her stomach   

“Lord Potter” andromeda spoke, utterly failing at hiding her shock  

The two witches stood there a little astounded, and harry had no idea how to recover the situation, and didn’t want to deal with a barrage of questions that both undoubtedly wanted to ask, he could see the curiosity brimming behind Lady Greengrass’s mask,   

“Last of line Protocol” he quietly spoke, “Sorry” he said to Andromeda “I think i sort of derailed your introduction” he winced, wishing he was better at being social.   

“Thats... thats no problem, Harry, um Lord...” she stumbled with her words before Harry cut her off knowing she was about to start addressing him as Lord Potter   

“Just Harry, please, you too, Lady Greengrass, that’s if you don’t mind” he said nervously, “and I'd be grateful if you didn’t mention that to anyone just yet, I sort of panicked” he chuckled again nervously.   

“Very well Lord Potter, I’ll keep it secret for now, and please call me Eliana,” she replied eyes glinting in interest.  

Andromeda to a moment longer to recover, breathing deeply “Of course Harry, now then, we came here for a reason did we not?”   

“Ahh, after some potions are we. Then you’ve come to the right place, Blue Bottles is one of the finest potion makers in Britain. All our ingredients are sourced directly from their growers either natively or abroad, and made on site, by our talented team of potions masters and mistresses. That normally doesn’t include me, but every now and then I like to come in and make sure my talents don’t get rusty” She joked with a warm smile.   

“I was curious as to why you were here, Eliana” Andromeda chimed in   

“Now then what potions do you require” Eliana asked to them both, unsure of who was doing the ordering.   

Harry stepped closer to counter and retrieved the list of potions and handed it over. He watched as Lady Greengrass quickly read the list, and saw her eyebrows narrow in concern as she read each entry.   

“Are these all for you? Andy, did you prescribe all these?” she asked cautiously and a little worriedly.  

Harry visible hesitated, while Andromeda looked concerned.   

“May I Harry?” she gestured to the list, Harry nodded and let her read the list. He watched as her face grew grave. Her eyes occasionally flicking back and forth between the list and him.   

She finished reading, and looked towards Lady Greengrass “I think I'd like to put this visit and sale under a healer's confidentiality clause, if you don’t mind Eliana.”   

Lady Greengrass nodded “I’ll agree, as long as you can prove, Harry, that you have a proper plan for these potions, some of the interactions will prove highly unpleasant if taken in the incorrect order”  

“I do have a plan, Healer Ranala at Gringotts gave it to me, though I don’t have it on me, but if you let me, I’ll call my house elf to bring it. He’s the one in charge of making sure I get the right potion at the right time.”   

“You may call your elf” Lady Greengrass responded with a quick nod.    

“Dobby” Harry called   

With a sharp but much quieter crack than normal, Dobby appeared next to Harry  

“Yous be calling Dobby, Young Master?” Dobby said happily standing as tall as he could, in what appeared to be his new uniform, a very sharp, and very well-tailored three-piece suit. Made of the black and grey pinstripe fabric Harry had seen him with over the past few days.   

“Nice suit dobby” Harry said breaking into a grin at the reactions of the two witches in the shop who looked flabbergasted.  

“Dobby be meanings to ask Master Harry, is it be beings okay if Dobby be wearing the house Potter crest on his uniforms?” the now delighted elf asked   

“Sure thing Dobby, but before you go can you fetch a copy of my Potions regime for me, please”   

“Dobby be keepings one on hand at all times Young Master” he stated proudly before handing over a sheaf of parchment that he produced from inside his waistcoat.   

“Thank you, Dobby, you can go back to your own business now”   

“Young master be calling if he be needing anything else now” Dobby said before popping away  

“Your elf... seems like an interesting sort” Lady Greengrass disbelief at what she’d just seen evident by the confused look on her face.   

“He had a bit of a hard life with his previous family, I give him a bit more freedom now that he’s part of mine” Harry spoke confidently.   

“Thats good? we have a few at the manor and try to ensure that they are healthy and happy. Though if you could share how you managed to get him into clothes that would be wonderful. Both my husband and I dislike the pillowcases or togas they insist on using. But we can't seem to find a way to get them to dress better without upsetting them or freeing them” she said with a grimace, Harry’s estimation of Lady Greengrass went up a little if she was actually interested in treating her elves better.  

“He buys fabric with his pay, if he’s not given the clothes but makes them himself, then I'm not giving him clothes.”   

“His pay?” Andromeda asked surprised while Lady Greengrass looked baffled.  

“It's not much, I think it was the principle of getting paid more than anything, he’d have been happy with a Knut a year, but two Galleons a month was all he’d accept, though if you framed it as a household budget that any elf can draw on for things they need, it might work better for most house elves. Dobby, is brilliant, but definitely a bit odd.”    

“An Ingenious idea, offering a household fund for the elves own use that is, I think offers of pay might offend Hippsy” Lady Greengrass replied before swiftly moving on.  

“Now then, if myself and Andy could look at the regime, if we’re satisfied, I'll fill the order right away. Most of your potions are very shelf stable and are not bought often so we should have them in stock. While the rest are common enough that we have them on hand anyway.”   

While Andy and Lady Greengrass pored over the regime, whispering to each other, harry took the time to look at the potions on the shelf that was reachable by customers. He recognised the headache and pepper up potions, as well as the mild Wiggen-weld draughts. There were few that he was tempted to get just to try out, the first was a potion called Sleekeeze’s which marketed itself as a hair potion able to cure any unruly hair. Harry recognised the brand as one that his ancestor Euphemia had set up, maybe the reason his hair was so difficult to tame was inherited. So, he picked up a few bottles to try it out. The second was a balm for dry skin, which he grabbed to use when winter finally came around again. His hands hurt quite a bit in winter when he couldn’t keep them warm enough.   

“This looks nicely balanced Harry. Very little chance of any unwanted interactions here. In fact, the one who designed this certainty knew what they were doing with their choices, its quite impressive. The Stomach soother variant they picked, can be mixed directly into the vial with the appetite enhancer and the medium dose Nutrient Potion, it’ll save time, and stave off the worst of the effects that you’ll feel from taking such a heavy potions course” Andromeda said appreciatively.   

“We have all these in stock Lord Potter, I'll prepare them for you right away, if you’ll take a sea...”  

“Dobby waits to take the order Young Master Potter” Dobby said as he re-materialised in the shop with a crack, he’d obviously stuck around just for this exact moment    

Laughing Harry said “Thanks Dobby”   

Trying to fight her own urge to laugh at the look of sheer determination in Dobby's face and body language Lady Greengrass spoke up “That is perfectly fine, your also welcome to come in as is needed to restock for your Young Master Dobby” she said mirthfully, evidently enjoying this whole experience.   

“Dobby be thanking you, Miss Lady Greengrasses”   

Harry stepped forward to arrange payment for this stash of potions and to set up payment for anymore that he might need, and not two minutes later, He and Andromeda had left dobby behind to receive the order and headed back into the alleyways and began to walk in the general direction of Cardin Square, which connected to Horizonte Alley with a few minutes' walk. As they walked Andromeda couldn’t hold her curiosity at the bizarre nature of Dobby.  

“You have one dedicated elf there Harry” Andy chuckled   

“He’s a good friend. Like I said earlier his last family didn’t treat him very well at all, I managed to trick his owner into freeing him. He stuck around and I asked him if he’d like to be part of the Potter family, he jumped at the chance.”   

“May I ask who the previous family was, very few Wix are idiotic enough to be cruel to bonded elves, given the symbiotic nature of their bond” she asked pointedly  

“He was Lucius Malfoy’s personal elf, used to order him to punish himself in awful ways for the stupidest of things.” Harry uttered angrily remembering the state Dobby was when he first bound him.  

“Malfoy?” Andromeda choked before whispering to herself “Sissy better not have been part of that, she was brought up better”   

“Sorry, what was that?” Harry not catching much of her whispering.   

“Oh, nothing dear, A family like that ought to know better, but how in Morgana’s name did you manage that?   

“Thats a bit of a long story, but the short version is, I managed to trick Malfoy into passing Dobby a book with a sock in it, when Dobby opened the book, he took his chance and broke their bond.”   

Andromeda let out a cackle that took Harry off guard “Serves the pompous priss right, quite neatly done Harry” she said fighting down the undignified laugh she’d just released.   

Not two more minutes later then the two were walking into the reception of the Golden Wyvern and through the floo up to the room.   

Andromeda gazed around the room appreciatively as Harry retreated to the entrance way to carefully store his new shoes in the shoe rack. He remarked at how not sore his feet felt now that he’d gotten them off. The months he’d struggled with the old trainers, with their soles full of holes and insole crumbling leaving him walking on the rubber bottom felt silly in comparison now.   

Harry returned to the room and found Andromeda perusing the shelves of the small library in the corner.   

“If you get a chance Harry, I would highly recommend that you peruse through this book” she said holding up a brown tomb that as Harry got a little closer, he could make out the title.   

“ Preparatory Potion Making” he said aloud as he instinctively grimaced at the subject matter.   

“Not a fan of potions Harry?” Andromeda questioned curiously with a slight tilt of her head  

“No, not after my lessons at Hogwarts” He said shaking his head “At first it was one of the subjects that I was looking forward the most. It sounded a little like cooking and I'm good at cooking” he said with a shrug. “But then it turns out that the potions teacher hates me and makes the lessons awful, so I kind of lost interest.”   

Andromeda looked pensive for a moment before speaking “I do not blame you; I remember Nymphadora complaining at length about the state of her potion knowledge in the run up to O.W.L year” she paused shaking her head. “Severus Snape is a fantastic potions master, the youngest ever in fact. Obtained his mastery when everyone else was sitting their N.E.W.T’s. But the man cannot teach. I had to teach Nymphadora myself.”   

“This was one of the books i used on basic preparation for brewing, I am no potions mistress, but I do hold a medical brewing licence, so I know my way around a cauldron, and it always useful to be able to brew some basic potions.” She said warmly, seeing Harry’s slightly piqued curiosity war against his dungeon bat poisoned opinion of potions.   

“Now then, we didn’t come all the way here to this delightful room just to discuss the state of Hogwarts potions classes. So, Harry, how can I help?” She said laying the book down on the dining table and taking a seat in one of the chairs.   

Harry didn’t speak out straight away, first taking the chair opposite Andromeda’s and thinking hard on how he wanted to approach this. Should he show her the entire Diagnostic? No there was more than just medical history on there, there was the black lordship, the Slytherin and Gryffindor titles, he really couldn’t have anyone he didn’t trust completely knowing about them.   

“I have a full diagnostic, from the goblin healers, I'd like you to look at. But there’s more than just medical information on there” he said hesitantly.   

Andromeda looked at him pensively, leaning back in her chair slightly. “I understand your concern, but by my healer's oath, I cannot reveal information I learn during a healer's session to anyone without your express permission.” she said softly, her kind eyes meeting his “Healer's oaths are impossible to break, we still use the same oath that Hippocrates created in ancient Greece. And let me tell you, the punishments for those who betray them are nasty.”  she continued in the same soft tone.   

“Okay” Harry whispered, getting up from his chair and walking over to the writing desk he kept the Satchel with all his important documents in. He retrieved the Diagnostic and headed back over to the table.   

“Would you like some Tea?” Harry asked as he set the diagnostic in front of her. Andromeda’s who was focused on one on scroll that had been placed in front of her looked up, and with another warm smile she nodded, before unrolling the scroll and settling in to read.   

Harry turned away, not wanting to watch another person go through the horror that was his health. He called Dobby and had him start making some tea. Sneaking a glance over towards Andromeda he confirmed to himself why he looked away in the first place. There was a look of horror, shock even disgust cracking the porcelain mask of her fair skin, that she was desperately trying to keep in place but failing.   

A few minutes later, Harry was staring out the window, waiting for Andromeda to finish. He heard a crumple of parchment as the diagnostic was slammed into the mahogany of the dining table. Spinning around at the loud noise Harry found Andromeda leaning over in her dining chair. Elbows resting on her knees, right arm straightened out fist balled and clenched to the point where the knuckles were pooling red. The other hand covering her mouth as she turned to face Harry, storm grey eyes now an ocean swimming in tears. Harry stood there taken off guard at this reaction. He’d known that how he’d been treated was bad, seeing the goblin's reaction had confirmed it; Hermione made it real, but she was his friend, she was supposed to care. But this, a stranger, someone he’d just met today; to react like this?   

The confusion and awkwardness were palpable on Harry’s part, He had a strange witch in his suite that was losing the fight to keep herself from bawling. He didn’t think the way he’d calmed Hermione down yesterday would work here. Thankfully he was saved by Dobby, who popped in a moment later.   

“Now now, Missy Tonks. It be terrible what be’s done to young master. But the next stepses must be taken to make sures that Master Harry be fine froms now ons” Dobby spoke softly but with a surprising amount of gravitas.  

Surprisingly Harry found himself agreeing with Dobby, he felt different now; he wasn’t okay with everything he was certain about that. But he could not wallow forever and stay hidden away. He was Lord Potter, even if he didn’t feel like it yet, he would remember but never forget, those that had created that list of horror would not touch him anymore.   

As Andromeda was still rocked by reading such a list of travesties, world upheavals, surprises and was then caught off guard by the appearance and words of Dobby, started to pull herself together with a minor application of occlumency, she was a healer damn it. Harry started speaking.   

“I know that...” harry pointed at the scroll “Is awful” he said quietly, slowly walking closer to Andromeda.  
“But I’ve done my grieving, it’s still a lot to process, and I'm not better. Not by a long shot. If I think too hard about it, I'll probably break down again.” he said with a grim expression.  

“I think I'll probably be dealing with the results of what they’ve done to me and what that’s done to the way I see the world for the rest of my life.” he said with a dejected shake of his head. “But I'm not going to let it beat me” he said with a confidence that surprised himself and a firmness to his own tone he’d never really heard before.   

“But right now, I need your help Andy” he said eyes fixing hers with a long look before breaking off.   

Andromeda sat frozen in her chair. Staring at the little boy who’d suffered so much. That list of crimes was heart breaking to read and made the extensive list of potions that the boy was on make far too much sense. Never mind the whole mess about the other titles, or the Heir Black thing, or even the part about Sirius. But then he’d turned to her and walked forward speaking his mind. At first, she’d seen what she’d expected, a victim, a child who’d suffered, suffered more than enough to make him break. But then a change had happened. She saw the little boy in robes that while suited him, didn’t seem to sit right, straighten, and with the slightest of movements, the robes were a mantle, as if he were born to wear them.  

Saw him lift his head from the meek way he’d held himself since she’d met him this morning, chin down and eyes peeking through his eyebrows to make eye contact; to holding his head back chin forward. She felt magic begin to fill the air around her as he made eye contact with her, back straight, chin up and eyes locked on hers and saw them sparkle with conviction.   

She stood sharply, taking a deep breath, she saw Harry lose a little of the presence that had seemingly come from nowhere. She had to remember that despite that showing, Harry was in fact a child, perhaps not a typical child given his status, but a child none the less. She clamped down hard with her occlumency, the time to process the roiling emotions in her heart would be later, but for now she would do anything she could to help Harry.   

“Yo...Your right” she stammered still battling her emotions, she took a deep breath, held it for a moment and let it out slowly. “I’ll do everything i can to help you, but, if I may excuse myself a moment to freshen up?”   

Harry nodded, and she left the room towards the ensuite bathroom once he pointed out where it was. He took a moment to think about what had just happened. The words he’d said had surprised him, but what surprised him more was to learn that he really did mean them. He would always miss his parents, but until he’d read the grimoire, he’d never truly known what he’d lost; the Mirror of Erised had started this process and the words of his grandfather had truly shown him that. He would mourn the loss of something he’d never known but he would not grieve and pine for something he could now never have. From now on he would have to put his best effort forward. Throw his everything into building himself and the Potter name back up to where it should be.   

Andromeda returned to the room after a few minutes looking far more composed, though there were still cracks in her now once again reserved demeanour. Harry invited her to come and sit on the sofa in front of the fire.   

“I... I feel like i need to apologise harry” she started to speak softly “I shouldn’t have lost control like that” she tried to say before Harry as politely as he could cut her off.   

“Please, don’t” he uttered. “It is awful, I call it the list of Doom” he said attempting to pull some levity to the situation. “But it's being handled, I’ve had a Goblin ritual to repair the breaks in my bones, and you’ve seen the extensive course of potions I'm going to be taking for a good while”   

Andromeda sat in the armchair quietly for a moment. “Then can I ask why you wanted to speak with a healer?” she questioned.   

“I was told that the one thing that the goblins couldn’t really deal with is anything to do with my core, and the diagnostic says that it was damaged” he answered. “And that a wixen healer would be better equipped to assist me with that”   

“Mhh, the goblins are correct as they often are. Their method of wielding magic is different than ours, whatever that method is, they’ve never spoken about. Let me check the diagnostic once again. Where did I...” she said as she started to look about the room for the scroll. Harry raised a hand and called it over with a nudge of his magic, mildly enjoying the shock on Andromeda’s face when he did. She spluttered as she took the scroll and moved to the section on his core.   

“Right then, “60% core status, high density, damage from external magics in multiple areas” she muttered as she sat back in the armchair, taking a cup of tea from Dobby who’d popped into the room carrying a fresh tray of tea and biscuits.   

“I’d like to perform my own diagnostics if you don’t mind Harry, I’ve brought my field healer’s kit with me, so I've got what I require to take a core reading” she asked.   

Harry nodded, a little excited to see a whole new branch of magic. Andromeda brought out her purse from which she drew a much larger brown burlap bag with handles adorned with an icon of the Rod of Asclepius.   

“Now a core reading is a straightforward procedure but requires consent on the Wix that is getting their core read.” she said having set the medical bag on the floor in front of her and was rummaging around inside it for something.   

“I have a reader as part of the kit since my specialty is curse damage, and on occasion curse damage can affect the magical core of a Wix. Ahh there you are” she exclaimed as she brought out an incredibly intricate looking device that somewhat resembled a clockwork spherical compass or gyroscope.   

“This is an Etherius Sphygmomagicum” she stated “when you take it into your hands and push a small amount of magic into it, it will activate, sending a tendril of its own enchantment to interact with your core. It will then project your own perception of the core as a diagram for me to interpret. The device will also project a series of letters and numbers that I can record to get a deeper understanding on the state of your core. Your consent will be making the initial contact with the device” she said holding out the compass to Harry.   

He reached out his hands cupped together and took the spherical compass, it was ice cold where the metal touched his skin, sparing a glance towards Andromeda she gave him a reassuring nod. He pushed a speck of magic into the metal, the inner workings which revealed themselves as far more complicated, began to rotate in seemingly random directions as the metal began to get warm to the touch. Then Harry felt a nudge towards his magic as it began to become enveloped by something, it was barely perceptible. There was a shimmer in the air in front of him as a fine thread of golden magic was drawn from the device and an orb of shimmering grey cloud formed the space between Andromeda and Harry. Harry gasped as he beheld the representation of his core. It was a swirling miasma of grey whisps of a formless matter contained in what seemed to be a crystalline sphere. Traces of golden runes and arcane lettering formed to the right, Andromeda seemed to be focusing on those and had procured a sheaf of parchment to record the findings on them. He couldn’t read the runes, so he focused on the sphere.   

As he looked, he began to see more and more details stand out to him, every now and then he would see, deep within the swirling and undulating core of grey, streaks of lightning of different colours. First a glow of gold, warm, inviting... Family. That was his link to the potter family magic, he just knew it. But there would be the occasional shadow that would flitting from within, it was far smaller and less obvious than the golden lighting of the Potter family, could it be the beginnings of his link to the Black Family? But then he saw something different, something that he couldn’t explain at first, a flicker of green, but not the one he’d dreamt about, he recognised the colour though, but he couldn’t place it. He closed his eyes and reached inward, searching for what that odd spark of colour was. As he examined his own core, made even easier now that he had a way to visualise it, he looked for that odd green energy, it was elusive, like chasing shadows in the dark. But he managed to find the barest trace of it and reached for it mentally.   

When his mind contacted it, he enveloped in a warm sensation. As if he was being swaddled in a blanket, a wool one, it had red and gold colouring... wait where had that come from? As he focused harder on the shards of green energy, he found himself assaulted with a barrage of sensations he didn’t quite understand. They were too loud, too unpredictable, too blurry as if he didn’t have the capacity to understand them yet. But there were two sensations that stood out, a pair of lips pressed to his forehead, before a finger, coated with hot, thick iron smelling liquid was daubed on his forehead... in the shape of a lightning bolt.   

With alarm he jolted back to reality, back to the room at the Golden Wyvern, visualisation of his core still manifested in front of him. Andromeda was standing now, walking back and forth taking a closer look at the visualization.   

“Please leave the visualisation active, it will allow me to walk you through what I believe to be going on with your core.” she requested, not noticing Harry’s mind had wandered. Shaking his head, he refocused on the here and now, put off the thoughts that he was sure that those green traces were the remnants of the Ancient Magic that had protected him.   

“As far as I can tell, there has been trauma to your core, Harry. The Goblin diagnostic has already found the causes of these, and they are no longer in danger of causing any further damage. You can see the areas where they were interacting here” she said producing her wand and rotating the sphere, on the crystalline surface and the areas she was pointing out were pockmarked and scarred but reduced a little, as if someone had started to sand the roughness out.   

“You are beginning to recover, rather quickly in fact. The shell is abnormally dense meaning that any magic that flows through it will be amplified. You may already know this, but your core is grey as I believe is typical for a Potter.” She paused for a moment.   

“What is remarkable, is the overall size of your core, now it's believed by many theorists that there are phases of increases in power, the first being 11 years of age, which is why formal schooling starts then, with a gradual increase until an expansion at 17 which we call a maturation. I would typically consider your core to be the size of a moderately powerful mature core, but the outer layer is still opaque, so you definitely have not undergone a maturation. The runic readouts, which i have copied for you all confirm this.” she spoke evenly and professionally, before adding, “oh, you may release the device now Harry”.   

He did so and handed it back over to Andromeda who took a seat and stowed it back in her bag.   

“You have nothing to worry about Harry” she said, seeing that he was closing off a little. “Do you have any questions?”   

“Those traces of different colours in the core, do you know what they are, I've got an idea but...” Harry asked.  

“They are the links to your Family magics, and I believe that the odd green whisps may be a representation of the ancient magic I believe the goblin diagnostic refers to. Strangely it perfectly matches the colour of yours and Lily’s eyes.” she added as an afterthought.   

Harry slumped back into the sofa, relieved. He'd gotten answers to the one thing that the Goblins couldn’t tell him about, his core. And his core was fine, a little roughed up at the moment but it was healing.   

“How long would you say until my core is fully healed” he asked.   

“hmm, when did you get the initial diagnostic done?” she replied   

Harry cast his mind back, counting the actual days, which now he looked back found there was a lot going on in a very short period. “Umm, four days ago”  

“Comparing the damage reported on the goblin diagnostic to the numbers I've gleaned from this one, showing your core at 62% today, I would posit that you can expect a full recovery in around three to four months. Which is a very good recovery rate.” she said smiling warmly. Harry grinned back, ecstatic that he was well and truly on the mend.   

They sat in the quiet for a little while, each sipping from cups of tea which Dobby had been periodically, vanishing the lukewarm contents and refiling with fresh tea. In the corner of his eye as he watched the fire dance in the hearth, he saw Andromeda fidget a little every now and then, as if she were about to speak but couldn’t. He decided to spare her.   

“Is there anything you want to ask me” he spoke quietly, seeing andromeda still in the corner of his eye as she’d shifted in her seat once again. Harry feared that she might be about to ask about where all those injuries had come from.   

“You’re Heir Black” she said, barely a whisper. That was not what Harry was expecting at all. The Gryffindor or Slytherin titles maybe, but to bring up Black?   

He turned to face her, nudging the ring on his finger letting the Black heirship ring manifest, and extending his hand. Harry watched Andromeda’s features go slack, before her eyebrows furrowed, her chin dropped and she stared at her lap, hands tensing.   

“I...i was born, Andromeda Black” she started to speak. “I was one of three sisters; I was the youngest. Narcissa and... and Bellatrix.” she practically spat that final name out as if it tasted foul. Harry gaped at the knowledge that she was related to Malfoy’s mother.  

“When I was fifteen I and my sisters all went home for the holidays, and at dinner one night my father Cygnus, declared that he had an announcement. He had arranged a marriage contract for me and Bella” she said darkly.  

“I was to be wed, the day after my graduation. To the scion of the house of Malfoy, Lucius. Bellatrix my older sister by a year, was arranged with one of the Lestrange's. She would not even be lucky enough to graduate first, Her's was set for the following summer.”   

“I stayed quiet, but I could not marry that man, I knew it in my heart. Besides, unknown to my parents, even my sisters, I had already started to see in secret, the man who would become my husband. We maintained that secret for many years. I played along, as if I were perfectly happy with the way things were going” she said mockingly.   

“But since that dinner, I'd been planning. I set up a second Gringotts vault and began to secret away what money and items I could. And the day of my graduation, as soon as my robes had turned from green to gold, I left. Then while I left Lucius at the temple awaiting my arrival, I married Ted instead.” her tone turning warm before it dropped as cold as ice once more.   

“My “family” were furious. The howlers, the messages and curses they sent at me, for flouting tradition, for defiling myself with a Mudblood. My father performed the banishment ritual that night. Took every connection to the Blacks I had. Took my trust vault.” Harry was quite surprised to hear that she didn’t sound all that upset about it.   

“They just kicked you out, because you didn’t want to marry someone, they told you to?” Harry said, startled at the callousness.   

“Oh yes, it would have been much worse if they’d manage to find me too. But disownment was as bad as they could do without me being present.” she said frighteningly blase about it.   

“I’d wanted to get away from them since i was 14 years of age. When I really started to think about the idiotic rhetoric they’d begun to speak since grandfathers' health had started to decline. Merlin, if he’d heard the idiotic things they’d begun to spout, he would have disowned them himself.” she said shaking her head.   

“The man fought Grindelwald for Hecate’s sake. And here were his own younger brothers, even his own son, saying dangerously similar things, and worse once blood purity started to get popular again. My parents were bad enough, they started Bellatrix down the path she took by allowing her complete access to the Black manor archives, and Narcissa... she’d resented me for being the one betrothed to Lucius, not her. But she was too important for the purity of the Black blood according to my parents, oh no, she would marry someone who also carried black blood” Andromeda spat, disgusted by the notion.   

“I was glad to be shot of them, maybe you can do some good with the name. Bring it back to where it should be. I’d always heard whispers of the Black's true purpose. Maybe you can do it some justice again.”  

She sucked air in through her teeth before continuing, “but, what really caught me off guard reading through your... what did you call it, list of horror? Was the part about my cousin Sirius” she said with warmth and a surprising amount of relief.   

“I can’t tell you how relieving it is to have proof that he is innocent of betraying you and your parents. It’d never sat right with me. That Sirius, of all the family, would have joined The Dark Lord. But it's also proof we can't use” she said sadly.   

Harry sat up straight, alarmed “What do you mean we can't use it” he said confused.   

“Because, the diagnostic, and any diagnostic that you do will list him as your Godfather, by oath of magic and of blood. Meaning, that despite his intentions, the idiot used blood magic to strengthen the bond.”   

The penny dropped for Harry, “and blood magic is illegal” he whispered dejectedly.   

Andromeda nodded sadly “Even if we managed to put this in front of someone from the ministry, they would in all likelihood simply add blood magic usage to the charges. I’ve seen it before, someone being prosecuted for using blood magic to heal a child or a spouse. If it's not done through the Goblin’s, which is far outside the pockets of most, and the ministry finds out, they will prosecute. It's one of the few things that I agreed with my former family's stance on. That the ministry has no right to judge what spells and magic we perform so long as it does not endanger, lives, the statute or the rights of others.”   

A silence fell in the room after that statement. Harry began to find himself agreeing with it the more he thought about it. It was also very similar to the way that his grandfather had talked about magic, Harry supposed, that if you knew about the Black Artes and the White Scripture, regular light or dark magic, seemed normal in comparison with the danger they held.   

It was Andy that broke the silence. “If you’ve no further questions regarding my skills as a healer, is there anything else you’d like to ask?”   

Harry pondered the question for a moment, and quickly came up with one.   

“What was my mother like”   

Andromeda broke into a wide warm smile and leaned forward.   

“When i first met your mum... it was the train to Hogwarts, I was a rising 6 th year and she was this curious mundane born witch, who wandered into my cabin where I was sitting alone....” And Andromeda was off.  

Harry drank in every story that she told, every detail he could grasp, and Andy told countless tales. Of his mother's kindness, of her strength of will, her magical power. He found out his mother's favourite curse when she was angry enough to fight, a tricky charm that animated a person's hair to grow inward, or the spell she wanted to use when she was angry enough to curse you but not enough to want to hurt you, just yell at you and wanted you conscious to hear it, the body bind. He was a little grateful that she only ever seemed to use that last one on James Potter, who seemed to try and rile her up enough to make her use it. Lily was one of the few people that andromeda had written to after she’d run away from her family and made sure she was kept up to date. Andromeda said that by the time that Lily was pregnant, she saw her as a younger sister.   

He learned that initially, his mother and father had not gotten on well at all. But that in their fifth year a prank had gone seriously wrong to the point that it had shaken James enough to pull his act together, and she’d slowly warmed up to him, eventually falling for him. She talked about James a little every now and then, even a little about his dads' friends, Sirius, Remus and Peter.   

She was firmly Andy in Harry’s mind now. Not quite Auntie Andy though, that particular title had been soured in Harry’s mind somewhat. At some point Harry had begun to talk about his time at Hogwarts, not the dangerous bits, like the Stone. He did have to briefly describe the situation that had led to him being bitten by a Basilisk and had needed Phoenix tears, since she had seen the diagnostic. It was quite a bit of time later that Dobby had popped in asking if Andy would like to stay for Dinner that they both realised that they’d spent all afternoon and were starting to encroach on evening that Andy had shot up like a rocket, neither of them realising just how much time they had spent talking until they’d looked out of the window and seen faint hints of gold start to creep into the blue cloud speckled sky.   

She’d worried and fretted about leaving Harry alone in a suite all by himself, but Harry had countered that he wasn’t alone, that he would always have Dobby, and that Dobby would come to her if he ever needed help. Andy was a little placated by that, saying that her own parents had pretty much left her to the elves too. Harry was able to get her to agree to be okay with him staying there by himself after giving her the password to the suite’s floo and an open invitation to come around anytime she wished. Andy had relented and quickly used the floo to return to her own home, though not before writing down her own address and password and giving Harry the same offer to come over anytime, though after 6pm would be preferable since either herself or her husband would be home then.   

After eating another wonderful meal courtesy of dobby, and another disgusting potion courtesy of Healer Ranala. Harry whiled away the evening, and well into the night by cracking the spine of the potions prep book that Andy had strategically left in the middle of the small coffee table in front of the sofa, much to his surprise, he kind of enjoyed it. Before sighing jotting down on his shopping list that he needed replacements for most of his potion's tools since he hadn’t done the proper maintenance, cleaning and purification on them. At half past ten, he’d turned in for bed, gratefully pulling the covers up to his chin and swiftly beginning to drift off to sleep.  

Meanwhile...  

Deep in the North Sea. On a desolate Island hidden to the world, in a fortress of despair, its towering walls stained and weathered. An emaciated dog, hair matted and lank with the grime of 12 years of neglect slipped between the cold cursed bars of a prison cell. Stole out the black gateway, guards none the wiser for they did not have eyes and leapt from the jagged rocks recklessly into the churning waters below.   

Chapter Text

Harry had just pulled his forest green robe on when he heard the distinctive sound of the floo flare to life in the main room. It was still relatively early, just shy of Nine in the morning, was Andy back he wondered? Palming his wand, he carefully opened the bedroom door where he was greeted with the hilarious sight of Hermione being launched from the fireplace with a shriek. She didn’t fall to the floor thankfully, though with the speed that she’d emerged from the fireplace she only just managed to prevent herself from colliding with the windows on the opposite wall.   

Stifling a laugh, he pocketed his wand and stepped into the room   

“Still haven’t managed to figure out the floo Mi?” he chuckled.   

She spun on the spot to face him, fixing him with a glare that lasted for just a moment before devolving into embarrassment. “Oh shush you” she shot back at him “At least I've not gotten the address wrong yet” she said to Harry with a smirk. Harry scoffed and put on a faux hurt expression before waving his friend over to the sofa.   

“So how was time with your parents yes...”   

“How did meeting the Hea...” they both started to say, words overlapping immediately.   

“You first” Hermione said, beating Harry out.  

Harry rolled his eyes fondly “How was your day yesterday?” he asked sinking deeper into the sofa, happy to be with one of his best friends again.  

She rewarded him with a massive smile “It was brilliant, we went to the Natural History Museum, I’ve not been there for oh, since well before we started Hogwarts.” she began to speak her voice bouncing from excitement “It turns out there is a whole separate magical section! I need to go to every museum in London again now, to see if there's a magical section that I missed before.” she said excitement evident on her face.   

“How was your day Harry?” She asked, trail of excitement quickly mellowing into minor concern “How did meeting the healer go?”   

Harry grinned back at her “Andy is brilliant, I'm all clear on the magical core front, just needs time to repair itself” he replied, slight notes of relief colouring his tone unintentionally. “We also found a good potions place, accidentally revealed to one of the other seven houses that I'm Lord Potter now, did the diagnostic, and talked all afternoon about my parents.”   

Hermione took the barrage of information well in stride, “woah, go back a second, accidentally revealed that you’re lord potter to one of the other houses? Which one?” she asked a little alarmed.    

“House Greengrass, Greengrass owns the potions store on Horizonte alley. Lady Greengrass was in the shop when we went in, she’s friends with Andy apparently. She introduced herself as Lady Greengrass, I forgot all the manners stuff that Neville taught me except the equals greeting, so I panicked, threw the idea to stay under the radar out the window and gave the lords bow” he said with a sheepish look on his face.   

Hermione shook her head exasperatedly “oh well what's done is done” she muttered before brightening “So what is the plan for today, I’m free all day, not being picked up till 8pm, I have my pocket money and a desire to spend it” she beamed excitedly.   

Harry smiled back, “umm, I need to eat first, have you had breakfast?” He asked.   

“Only a cereal bar, I kind of pushed Mam and Dad out the door earlier” she said bashfully.   

Harry laughed, a warm spot taking up residence in his chest knowing that his friend was so eager to meet back up with him. “Breakfast first then, want to Floo to the leaky or walk to the bakery on Cardin?” he asked  

“ooooh, look at you talking like a local already” She teased, before pleading “Please can we walk, I don’t know if I can face using the floo again quite so soon” she said practically turning green at the mere mention of the Floo.   

“Kowalski’s it is then. Let me get my new shoes and we’ll be off” he replied standing from the sofa and retrieving his shoes and slipping them on watching with mild surprise as the buckles did themselves up automatically cinching themselves closed to be nice and secure but not too tight.   

Walking back into the main room he was greeted by the sight of Hermione cooing over Dobby who was proudly showing off his new three-piece suit. “It really suits you Dobby, if you’ll pardon the pun. Did you make it yourself?” She asked  

“Dobby be makings it himself, Missy Grangey” he said squeaky voice pitching up in delight. “there's you be Master Harry” Dobby spoke “Yous be going out for breakfast, yes? Then you be drinking's this now” he practically ordered, his treble voice not underlying the seriousness of his order as he held out a bottle of nutrient potion. “I’s followings the orders of Miss dromeda and be mixing in appetite and soother into the good stuff's potion, so yous not have to takes them separate”   

Harry with a look of resignation that seemed to cause Hermione to have to stifle a giggle, took the bottle pulled the stopper and tried to quickly down its contents. He was quite surprised to find that somehow, the taste was quite muted. He’d been expecting the unholy combination of bread and rotting vegetables to hit his tongue again, but instead tasted a rather muted bland, vaguely green tasting mixture.   

“Right then, shall we be off Miss granger” he said standing straight, pulling a toffish expression and lilting his accent into the RP accent he heard Petunia use whenever she answered the phone. Hermione burst into laughter and threaded her arm around his left linking the two as they left through the door.   

When they made their way down to the lobby, Harry looked over to the desk expecting to see the familiar fair-haired Alice on duty in and was caught off guard seeing a dark-haired girl instead, but moreover a dark-haired girl that he recognized. The girl in question passively looked over to him at first before returning to whatever had busied her behind the desk, but quickly snapped her head back in a double take as she realized who was there.   

“Harry!!!” she exclaimed rushing around the desk and barrelling towards the two  

“Katie?” Harry said caught off guard as she collided with him grabbing him in a hug.   

“Harry! How are you? What are you doing here? Hello Hermione! It’s good to see you, are you staying here too?” she asked rapid fire at the two, Harry struggling to keep up with his excitable teammate.   

“Hiya Katie” Harry smiled back once the girl released him from one of her famous hugs of death.   

“Hiya back at cha Harry” she grinned until a realisation hit her “Ohhhh wait, you're the special guest that Mum and Dad talked about. You’ve got the Draconic suite right?” Harry nodded. “Nice, that's our best room, kept for visiting statesmen, and of course, the Potters. Hmm that should have clued me in now that I think about it. Are you staying there too Hermione?”   

“Oh no I'm just here for the day, besides isn’t there, you know, only one bedroom?” she said leaning in towards Katie with a whisper, a slight tinge of red beginning to blossom on her cheeks.   

Katie raised an eyebrow at Hermione cheekily with a giggle, before turning back to Harry “oh, so it's just you then Harry, and there must only be one bedroom for now. If you ever did want to stay, then the room can expand to add up to four additional bedrooms. Perks of magic and all that you know.” she said with a grin.   

“So, you work here in the summers Katie?” Hermione asked quickly moving on.  

“Uh huh, well the hotel is part family owned, part Potter owned” she said with a nod to Harry.  

“So i asked mum and dad if I could pick up a few shifts every now and then, earn a bit more pocket money and all that. Gives my big sister a break too. Thats Alice, the blond that you probably see at the front desk most of the time.” she said with a smile.    

Now that he thought about its Harry could see the resemblance between the two girls. The three chatted for a few more minutes before a large group of people made their way into the lobby, Katies eyes drawing wide at the size of the group.   

“Oh dear, the Lichtenstein group is early, I’ve got to run, duty calls. Oh, but before I go, Harry if you ever get bored or just want some company to ask an elf to find me. There's a surprising number of secrets hidden around this place that I'd love to show you.” she said grabbing Hermione and Harry each in a one-armed hug at the same time before dashing off towards the desk, numerous house elves popping in around her to deal with the crowd of witches and wizards that were swarming it.   

Harry and Hermione gave a quick farewell wave before heading out the main doors into Cardin square. The day was fully in swing as the two stepped into the main square, vendors had set up stalls scattered throughout the square, there was a faint hubbub of people inquiring about wares and haggling for a better price. The sky above was a glorious azure, the sun casting its rays into the square setting the white stone afire with golden sunshine. A clock tower rang in the distance signalling the time to be just 9am as Harry and Hermione wandered slowly taking in the day.   

Franklin Kowalski, the owner of the bakery greeted them with a warm smile as they entered, the smell of fresh bread, sweets and pastries filling the air mixing with the scent of freshly brewed coffee that percolated idlily in the corner creating a delectable aroma that made one never want to leave. Harry suggested that they take one of the tables out the front of the bakery. Settling down with a bag full of delicious baked goods and a cup of coffee, tea for Hermione, coffee was for studying she insisted. Though Harry found that the bitter drink was growing on him somewhat, it was no rockmint tea but still.  

“So” Hermione started “Now that breakfast obtained, what is the actual plan for the day” she asked.   

“Gringotts” Harry said “Gringotts first, oh no wait, maybe some expanded bags first? So, i can carry the books and things I want to get from my vaults, then after that I don’t really know. We can go exploring a bit?” he said with a smile.  

“Oh, in that case we can go to the place that I got my school trunk from, I'm sure they sold bags too, and afterwards we Find a second-hand bookshop maybe?” Hermione asked wryly   

“Sure” Harry agreed expecting that answer, hell if he was going to make her sit through a bank meeting, the very least he could do is make sure she got to visit some shops that she’d like.   

“Though I think I need to visit Olivander's. Something has been a bit off with my wand for a while, since the chamber I reckon” he said pensively thinking about the strange feeling he’d been getting from his wand.   

“hmm, that definitely needs checking” Hermione agreed “So, the trunk shop first, I remember that they sell charmed bags, Gringotts, Olivander's then we go for a wander about to see what we can find!”   

The two quickly finished up their meals and made their way to their first destination. The walk only took them a few minutes even with them stopping every now and then to poke their noses into the windows of shops that looked even slightly interesting. Before they knew it, they were on the main street of Diagon. It’s crooked buildings and uneven cobblestones the same as ever, delightfully odd and different in ways that made Harry’s soul soar in happiness. Hermione led the way to the trunk shop since Harry hadn't been there before, he’d gotten his current trunk from a second-hand store, the same place he’d gotten his potions equipment now that he’d thought about it. Which was probably not the best start to his potioneering career if he was being honest, but it was Hagrid who’d taken him there and he was at most a day into knowing about the magical world at the most.   

Stepping into Travellers Trunks he wished that he’d taken the time to actually to try and find a proper shop for all his things. Now that he thought about it, it made a lot more sense that trunks would come with some sort of enchantment. To make them bigger on the inside, or to make them lighter than their contents. He stared at the list of enchantments that that came with the standard student trunk, and he half wanted to push Hagrid into the lake for taking him to a shop where he thought that an old trunk with one busted handle and peeling leather panels and no enchantments seemed like the best choice.  

No that wasn’t fair, not really. He’d visited Hagrid a lot and considered him one of the few adults he trusted. But Hagrid lived in a small hut on the edge of the forest where he made do with things that he made himself for the most part. In fact, Harry reckoned that if Hagrid ever did buy anything he probably bought it second hand, Harry felt a little bad at getting irritated after that.   

None the less Harry and Hermione each walked out of the shop half an hour later, with brand new leather messenger style bags a deep stained blue for Hermione and a Black leather for Harry. Each bag could carry up to 50 average books worth of weight and size without getting heavier or changing shape, had additional pockets to hold parchment, ink and quills, and had a small cooling pouch to keep food cold and preserved for a packed lunch. Harry had insisted on paying for both and had slapped the Black vault card on the counter before she could argue, he’d seen her umming and ahhing about whether to get one despite how much she obviously wanted one, when she’d tried to surreptitiously count the coins in her pocket without anyone noticing he’d gone ahead and bought two. He’d also bit the bullet on getting one of the higher end student level trunks, one with a 200-book library capacity, space for a full wardrobe, potions compartment, and plenty of extra storage, it also came with the convenience package as Mr. Royce, the owner of Travellers Trunks described. A full suite of lightening, shrinking and locking charms. The Trunk was neatly tucked away in one of his pockets now in case he needed a little extra space once he reached the bank.   

A few moments later and Harry and Hermione stepped past the armoured guards that stood imposingly next to the intricately carved bank doors of Gringotts and into the building proper. It seemed to be a relatively quiet morning for the bank, a handful of customers stood in lines that were moving swiftly. The two joined the queue and while they waited Harry got curious.   

“Do you have a vault Hermione?” he asked.   

Hermione meanwhile was staring around the main hall and only just caught his question “hmm, oh, no I don’t Mam and Dad usually exchange galleons every time we come to Diagon to get my school things. Why?” she explained.   

“So you’ve never been on the carts that take you to the vaults?” Hermione shook her head to answer.   

Harry was about to keep speaking when a harsh voice called out “Next”, not wanting to keep the teller waiting he and Hermione rushed up to the wooden counter.   

“Greetings Wix, how may Gringotts assist this day” the goblin spoke half exasperatedly, half bored.   

Harry now finally recalling how to greet goblins properly, fixed his eyes on the Teller, and spoke “Well met Teller, may your enemies fear your name”. The goblin kept eye contact for brief moment, before breaking it with a look of surprise, interest and a small head bow.   

“Well met Wix, may your gold ever flow”   

“I’d like to see my account manager Axehand, if he’s available please” harry continued cordially.   

The goblin manipulated something behind the desk that neither Harry nor Hermione could see before asking. “Then you can prove your identity as being his client I hope” the goblin grinned sharply.   

Harry handed over the Potter vault key which the goblin scrutinised fiercely before giving a nod of approval and handing it back.   

“Hmm, very well, if you’ll follow me” the goblin intoned before rising from its chair and heading towards the grand banking counter. Harry gave a small grin to Hermione and began to follow, Hermione following closely behind. He found himself following the goblin into the wood panelled hallways that were quite familiar now until they stopped at a hardwood door that he once again recognised. A sharp knock on the door caused a harsh “Enter” to bellowed from within. The Teller left them, at the door which Harry swung open politely after shooting a reassuring smile towards Hermione who was looking around at the new situation warily.   

“Ahh, Lord Potter, Well met and may your enemies fear your stride” Axehand called jovially from within.   

“Well Met, Master Keeper Axehand, may your gold ever flow” Harry replied with a small nod of his head making sure to keep eye contact until Axehand broke it. Which he quickly did with a sharp toothed grin and waved Harry inside motioning to the seats in front of him, He raised a craggy eyebrow at Hermione's presence.   

“Good good, you are improving Lord Potter. Your greetings carry more confidence and you yourself stand taller than the meek child I met not a few days ago.” He said approvingly before turning to Hermione “And who may you be child” he said sharply but not unkindly.  

“This is Hermione of the New House Granger, Keeper Axehand, one of my best friends.” Harry stated warmly.   

“Well met Keeper Axehand, may your enemies fear your name” she said a little shakily under Axehand’s imperial gaze, though she clearly remembered more than Harry did from Neville’s lessons in meeting with goblins Harry noted.   

“Well met Miss Granger, may your gold ever flow” he said with a nod before turning back to Harry who’d taken a seat in front of Axehand’s desk and was looking around the room with no less awe and respect than he had a few days ago. He breathed in what seemed to be the history of his family, fondly gazing at the Potter Tapestry that adorned the wall, listing names that before he had been completely un-familiar with, but now he could picture their words in his mind.   

Hermione took the seat next to Harry she herself closely looking around the room in mild awe.   

“Now then Harry, how may I assist you today” Axehand intoned, quietly shuffling a few sheafs of parchment around his desk for access later.   

“A few things” Harry started “First, is there any updates on the condition of Potter Manor and its grounds. Then I'd like to take a few things from the main family vault.”  

“Hmm, I'll have to verify the items you wish to withdraw and then I shall escort you to the vault, and regarding the manor and its grounds I have good and bad news. The good news is that structurally the manor is in fine condition, save a little dust and some minor pests that have snuck in through the wards. The wards themselves are still holding very strong and will need only for you to attune to them. The scouting party reports that the grounds are also in excellent condition, thriving in fact if a little overgrown. Now comes to the bad news, I am saddened to have to report to you that none of the elves bound to your family survived, they seemed to have been felled by the same disease that took the lives of your Grandparents” Axehand said with surprising emotion.   

Harry expected something like this, the last entry from his grandfather Charlus mentioned that even the elves were getting sick, they must not have survived. Even if he had expected it, it was still a heavy blow.   

“Umm, Keeper Axehand, is... is that normal?” Hermione said quietly, “For an elf to die from an illness that will kill a human” she followed up.   

Axehand spared a look for Hermione, clearly re-appraising her and finding her a bit more interesting.  

“No, no it is not Ms Granger” he said gravely “It was a cause for alarm for our scout team, which had them take far more stringent measure for their own safety. Just as well, the strain of Dragon pox that took the lives of your ancestors was found to somehow be still active even after all this time which is quite frankly unheard of, the fact that it could cross transmit between wixen to elves was even more disconcerting, it was previously a wixen only disease. Even one of the scouting parties also began to succumb to such symptoms soon after arriving on site.”   

“The team evacuated, received inoculations for Dragon pox which only existed some years after your grandparents' deaths. But it allowed them to return with lesser risk after they found it was effective in curing their ailing team member.”   

“What does this mean Axehand, that there's some new disease only found at Potter Manor?” Harry said alarmed and distressed.   

“No, not a new disease a new strain” Hermione said softly placing a hand on his arm in comfort.   

“Quite right, Ms Granger, it is indeed a new strain, one that has been tampered with, to make it more potent and deadly without inoculation. As such it will take our cleaning teams much longer to ensure that the manor and grounds are safe for habitation once more. I would estimate until November this year at the very least, the cleaning teams want to be certain they get any possible contamination.” Axehand said seriously.   

“Thats okay Axehand, I'd like to be certain, and I'm actually quite enjoying living at the Hotel at the moment” Harry replied, with a hollow smile that neither Hermione nor Axehand bought.   

Harry used on of the milder meditation techniques he’d picked up to push away the disappointed feelings that were beginning to wallow in his head. He reminded himself that he really did quite enjoy living at the Golden Wyvern and he’d quite happily stay there for the duration of the holiday, it wasn’t Privet drive after all therefore it was a massive improvement.   

“Now then” Axehand started “before we look at what you wish to withdraw, I'd like to give you this information packet for you to look over at your leisure. It contains a more detailed accounting of your investments and holdings as well as the steps I shall be taking to grow your fortune over the next few quarters.” He said as he handed over a rather large file that was likely to go over Harry's head for the most part, but he’d try to understand it, it was his money after all.   

“Excuse me, Harry, Keeper Axehand, are there any muggle investments as part of your strategy?” she queried, with a sharp look in her eye.   

“Indeed, there are Miss Granger. While the wixen world is larger than it appears, it is nowhere near large enough for fortunes like the Potter’s to easily find healthy returns with galleons alone.” Axehand said evenly, before fixing Hermione with a shrewd and a little delighted look.   

“Tell me Miss Granger, do you have some knowledge of the mundane banking and business world?” he continued a curious interest in his tone now.   

“Umm, some. An amateur's familiarity at least” she said a little timidly before finding herself once more. “My Mam talks about investments and business a fair bit.” she turned to Harry a little “You know I've mentioned that my parents are dentists, that's not technically true they both run a private dentistry practice, but my dad is the only one that's actually a certified dentist, my mother runs the business side of the practice. My mam can fill in as a dentistry assistant if there's a high workload and she’s trained for it, but she mostly manages the cashflow, ordering supplies, payroll and things like that. She also manages the family money, pensions, investments.”   

“You become more and more interesting Ms Granger” Axehand said another calculating expression on his granite face.  “Perhaps you would be so kind as to guide Harry through that information packet, as lost as he looks with it” he said with a chuckle. Harry faked a put-upon expression that had Hermione laughing softly, the tension that had built in the room from the bad news earlier now dissipating  

“Now then, are there specific items you wish to withdraw from the vaults, or do you just wish to see them in person? If it is the former, do you have a list?”   

“I do Axehand.” Harry replied, reaching in his robes for the list he and Hermione had made a few days ago.   

Axehand took it and scanned through it rapidly, not that it was a particularly expansive list.   

“Hmm, most of the books you can take without issue I believe. Though “Blade and Spellworke”, a pair of training swords, and two pairs of training daggers?” he said with a side glance to Harry.   

“Well like you said, I carry a knife with me as you recommended, and I think I'd be able to call a sword to me if I need to so wouldn’t it be better if I'm able to use them without hurting myself?” he said honestly.  

Axehand shook his head, “I’ve not read many wixen combat manuals but Blade and Spelloworke was once a well-known tome, it assumes you already have both the basic’s down for both Dueling with a wand and fighting with a sword. You have neither. You’d be better served with an instructor, but the art is well out of favour for the most part in Albion. Mundane books though will suit you better until then. “ A treatise of arms” By Nicolas Texier will give you grounding in smallsword, I think “ Fiore De Battaglia” for learning the longsword, since the length of blade that is recommended by Fiore is shorter than you’d expect; he also goes quite extensively into Dagger use. And then as a nice rounding off, perhaps Giovanni dall’Agocchie first book of his three-book series on the Art of Defence for side sword.” Axehand finished recalling from memory leaving Harry stunned and blinking, attempting to recall the names that Axehand had just mentioned. He started try into look for a quill to write all that down before he was interrupted.   

“Not to Worry” Axehand chuckled, “There are translated copies in the vault, we shall retrieve them when we go down.”    

Harry looked over at Hermione, she seemed a little stunned and to his surprise, a little interested. Maybe it’d never occurred to her that there would be detailed books on such subjects, it hadn’t to harry that's for sure. That or that they were probably quite old and quite valuable considering people stopped using swords at the turn of the century.   

“Now then if that's that...” he said about to rise from his chair before he took another glance at the list and caught what was scribbled at the bottom.  

“A genesis finder...ohh” he started to laugh uproariously and sank back into his chair, the sound was utterly terrifying, harsh, gleeful, tinged with the sound cascading rockfalls and gurgling blood. Harry had some idea as to why Axehand found that request so funny, he must have heard stories of the sheer chaos that had come about because of it and his Ancestor Alain Potter, Hermione meanwhile shrank back into her chair trying to disappear into it.    

“You know what that is Harry?” Axehand said, letting his mirth subside and catching Harry’s eyes with an intense and amused look.   

“I do, I read my family grimoire, the first part of it is a journal with entries from every lord and lady the Potters have ever had, including the one who created the Finder. I was wondering if Hermione might be interested in trying it out” he said looking over to her.   

Hermione in the meanwhile had immediately become interested and locked back onto the conversation ever since the Potter Grimoire had been mentioned, and was clearly very interested in the journal part, even if she couldn’t read it herself. And what was a Genesis Finder she wondered?  

“What is it, this finder?” she asked curiosity evident and displayed in her eyes openly. Harry began to tell them both the story of Alain Potter, how he caused chaos in the wizengamot by pulling the descendants of squibs, affairs and liaisons with mundane men and women out in to the open earning the ire of a lot of highly placed wixen houses. How he was banned from paying for the blood testing of every mundane born wixen that walked through the doors of Gringotts yet was ordered to take care of wixen that he decreed as Geneses, but not being allowed to test them in the only manor that was possible at the time as a punishment. How that through trial and error and with the assistance of the Goblin Nation, Axehand nodded enthusiastically at that part, had created a runic device that would do just that.   

“Okay, so let me get this straight, one of your ancestors found good proof that a lot of mundane born wixen, are born from the re-emergence of older magical bloodlines that had gone dormant somehow?” she asked making sure she understood everything. This earned a nod from both Harry and Axehand   

“But, in that process, your ancestor found that a small percentage of mundane born are truly spontaneous emergences of new magic? And he created a device that would show that, and you want me to use that device?” she asked slowly and carefully.   

“Umm... yes? I mean if you want to, I'd understand if you don’t, I was planning on letting others use it too, maybe Colin, Justin if he’d like to.” he mumbled out   

“YES!” she shouted before catching herself “I mean it’s so fascinating! Ever since I found out about magic and that there are these ancient families out there, I'd always wondered if there was an origin point. That and it would be a major blow against the blood purity argument if it were provable that each magical house at some point had a spontaneous emergence of magical ability. Then mundane born have the capability of reaching the same level as the ancient and noble houses with enough time.” she said rapid-fire, ideas whirling in her head.   

Axehand’s laugh once again rattled throughout the office chamber cutting off Hermione’s swift theorising.  “I can see why you like this one Lord Potter; she has a most formidable mind to be able to make the connection so quickly.”   

“The brightest Witch of our age” Harry said in a tone of complete agreement.  

Hermione meanwhile looked mortified that she’d began to theorise out loud in a well-appointed goblin’s office none the less, before blushing bright red at Harry’s statement, quietly to herself muttered “Books and cleverness... there are more important things” she said looking fondly at Harry. Harry didn’t notice. Axehand however did, his eyes glancing between the two surreptitiously before giving a quick snort.   

“Well then, let us be off to the vaults shall we” he said raising from behind his desk, and marching towards the oaken and iron banded door, Harry and Hermione following close behind.   

“For our oldest of clients, we have a private elevator that heads down, though since we shall be visiting both vault 7 and vault 75, we shall need to ride the carts back up” he explained as he led the two young wixen through the winding passageways of Gringotts bank. The wooden panelled walls, paintings and tapestries quickly gave way to carven stone blocks and iron banded torch sconces.   

“Carts? You mentioned those before the Teller called us forward” Hermione whispered leaning in close to Harry.   

“Have you never ridden the Gringotts carts?” he asked a little surprised before remembering she didn’t have a vault. She shook her head, brown curls dancing darkly in the dim light.   

“Oh... well do you like roller coasters?” he threw out, much to Hermione’s confusion and mild concern.   

“Not really” She admitted “I like the slower, gentle ones”, she was even more concerned when she saw Harry try to hide a small grimace at her response.   

Before long they stopped at the gates of an elevator, and both Harry and Hermione were sure they’d never seen such an elevator before. The gate that covered the doorway was made from a gleaming solid brass that slid noiselessly open before them, Axehand proffered for them to get inside. Stepping inside the elevator was surprisingly luxurious, intricate carvings of runic inscriptions and artistry covered mahogany panels fitted into more brass reinforcements. Four golden glowing orbs hung suspended in the corners of the elevator and the centre held an intricate control panel that Axehand stepped up to, He pressed several sigils and the elevator began to move slowly, and noiselessly, save for the faintest hum of magic. As the elevator descended deeper and deeper into the bowels of the earth, the air began to feel oddly heavier, the strangest impression of solemnity fell upon the group as the feeling that they were entering history grew stronger.   

There was a ringing of a silver bell as the elevator stopped moving, its brass gate soundlessly sliding open once more but this time onto a dark rough-hewn cavern wall.   

The contrast was stark as the stepped out of the golden light of the elevator into the narrow cavern tunnel, the gate closing behind them.   

“This way, stick close” Axehand muttered as he walked into the darkness, a torch flickering into a dull blue flame on the wall ahead of him.   

“These passages are designed to disorientate and confuse any would be thieves. You are nearly a mile underground, getting lost down here... is a death sentence” He said his voice reverberating off the stone walls, the echo only adding to the menace of the threat. The poem inscribed on the doors of Gringotts's echoed in their minds. “ Thief, you have been warned, Beware. Of finding more than Treasure there” played in his head as he and Hermione shuffled closer to Axehand, making sure not to lose him.   

A minute later Axehand paused, before pulling a torch from the sconce on the wall next to him. “We are almost there” he spoke. “The hall of the vaults will be dark until the doors to the potter vault sense confirm your link to them. Do you have your ritual knife, Harry?”  He asked.   

“I do” He responded.   

“Good lad, when we reach the doors, you will need to give them a tiny amount of blood to confirm you are indeed a Potter.” he said marching forward, the relatively narrow tunnel widening rapidly into a large open void, a small area lit by torchlight standing stark against the darkness.   

The floor wasn’t roughhewn though Harry noticed, but carefully chiselled bricks of black marble. Veins of gold woven through the bricks that danced in the pale blue light. The darkness of the marble only seeming to heighten the imposing void all around them. He felt Hermione grab his hand tightly and press in closer to him. Looking over, he saw a faint nervousness in her eyes, but a determination too. He was reminded that this was the girl that went with him in first year after they knew someone was trying to steal the stone, and that that person was likely was working with Voldemort. That this was the girl that figured out that one of the deadliest creatures in wixen history was stalking the halls of Hogwarts unknown to everyone else and had the fortitude to think to get a mirror to see around corners to keep herself and another safe.    

“We are here” Axehand spoke almost reverently his voice even though barely a whisper echoed in the darkness as the torchlight reached a wall of the same black marble as the floor, that grew upwards and disappeared as the light failed to reach the ceiling, if there was a ceiling. Set into that wall was a massive iron slab, an ornate and intricate P carved into the very iron itself set above a symbol he recognised from the Potter ring. A Triangle, set with a Circle at its heart and bisected by a line, beneath the symbol was another, the Potter crest of a Stag surrounded by stars and wreathed in a banner.   

“Quickly now” Axehand whispered “Before the defences take umbrage with us being here without proof, make a cut in your index, ring and thumb fingers and press them here” he said, urgency obvious in his tone as he lowered the torch to highlight a silver, flat, circular plate that had three runes carved into it.   

He quickly did as he was told and drew his ritual knife from his robe pocket, slipping the knife from its rough leather sheath he lightly pulled the edge across the pad of his finger, not too heavily, he’d learned by this point just how sharp this knife was. After making the third cut into his thumb he spared a glance to Hermione who had a fascinated grimace on her features, sparing a thought that she’d never seen this kind of blood magic before. He pressed the wounds against the runes in the silver plate and felt a faint pulling suction against them as blood was somehow drawn into the plate. There was a pulse of dark red magic that washed over the cold iron surface of the door. A heavy silence descended upon the three as they stood with bated breath for something to happen.   

The darkness of the void around them began to feel less oppressive somehow, then a torch sconce placed high above the iron slab bloomed into a roaring yellow fire, then torches that had been hidden either side of the slab also lit. The quickness of the transition from void to light left Harry and Hermione blinking stars from their eyes, as they looked around and saw the size of the hall. It must have been the size of the Hogwarts Great Hall easily, only far emptier since it wasn’t filled with tables and excited students. The light still didn’t reach the ceiling however, leaving a black void looming above their heads. Looking around at the other doors Harry figured that they must be the doors of the other seven families. This was confirmed when he recognised the Black Crest on the Slab opposite.  

But there was one door, at the head of the hall that had a set of stairs rising to it, where the others stood set into the wall along the sides, this one stood proud, nor was it a slab of iron. This one was twice the size of the others and intricately carved with flowing natural patterns, set with gems that glinted like multicoloured starlight in the light that now filled the hall. Its metal instead of being hard iron, had a soft hum of silver, accented with gold that radiated its own light. Its crest was unlike he’d ever seen, set against a green field and an azure sky stood a five headed dragon rearing on its hind legs, wings spread behind it like a war banner and talons extended ready to slash. It was Hermione who broke the silence.  

“Which family does that one belong to?” She asked pointing a finger at the massive door.  

“That” Axehand spoke his voice reverent “Is the vault of the once and future king” he uttered. “A vault that will stay locked until the end of time itself we believe.” He said, with a note of melancholy.  

“The once and future...? Arthur? As in King Arthur! King of Camelot, the Knights of the Round Table!” she said shocked, before her expression and voice switched to stunned, bewildered and a little awed “It was real? The stories and the myths are real? Even the wixen books talk about Camelot like it's a myth.” disbelief in her tone.  

“My grandfather told me about it, when I got to talk to him when I put on the ring.” Harry responded “I wanted to tell you about it, but I think part of my family magic stopped me. All the families who have vaults in this hall pre-date Camelot, and all of them had a hand hiding Camelot from history when it was decided that the kingdom was too big of a target for evil intent” Harry said softly.  

Hermione seemed to be too overwhelmed for words and blinked quickly as she tried to process the magnitude of being told that a famous myth was in fact real.  

“I know, I had the same reaction” Harry said with a weak chuckle as Hermione stood a little closer to him. He bumped her shoulder with his softly and gave her a reassuring smile.  

Axehand caught their attention once more bringing their focus back on the reason they came down here.  

“Now then, Lord Potter, may i present to you the main Potter, Currency and Artefact Vault.” he announced proudly, and snapped his gnarled fingers. As he snapped a line appeared down the centre of the Iron slab that bore the Potter Crest. With a resounding echo, the heavy vault door began to swing open, revealing a sight of breathtaking opulence and wealth that made Harry’s trust vault seem insignificant. The vault was far larger and stretched out before him, its vast expanse adorned with towering stacks of gleaming golden coins, mounds of gems and precious stones. The riches glimmered in the dim light casting radiant reflections that danced across the walls.  

But what really caught Harry’s eyes were the shelves that lined the walls of the vault. He stepped into the vault carefully, eyes darting in every direction Hermione following close behind. A few steps in from the door stood a small jewellery box with a glass case that drew Harry’s eyes first, looking closer he saw that it held a multitude of rings, one space at the top was empty.  

The thump of Axehand’s heavy shoe startled him.  

“Rings that hold importance to the Potters” he spoke softly, he then motioned to the empty space at the top. “There is where the Lord’s ring has sat this past decade, next to it rests the ring of Lady Potter. Last worn by your grandmother. Below that sits the Heir’s ring, it returned on the moment of your father's death.” Axehand stated solemnly.  

Harry stared at it. The first though that he had was that it was surprisingly unremarkable. A simple but sturdy band of entwined silver and white gold, with a very small shining white diamond set at its top. Though when he leaned in closer to get a better look, he saw miniscule carving on the inside. Runes!  

Stepping away he looked along the wall and saw Hermione transfixed moving from artefact to artefact.  

“Found anything interesting?” he asked making her jump  

“I don’t even really know what I'm looking at” she replied “what most of these things are even supposed to do. Like that” she said pointing at a glass vial that had a soft glow to it, Harry read the card “Luminescent Elixir Vial?” before looking up and down the shelf reading off some of the others.  

“An Arcane Astral Compass? A Harmonic Conduit? Your right, I have no idea” Harry voiced.  

“Many of these devises are more than likely have historical value. While I am not learned in wixen matters, I do understand that many spells that exist today, did not long ago. Artefacts such as these had to be created to recreate that which you can do with a wave of your stick.” Axehand said sneaking up on them again.  

“It was common for wixen to craft such artefacts themselves” he said motioning the long wall of artefacts. “Now then we came here for a specific item, and if i recall the inventory correctly it will be just... here” he announced after walking a decent distance deeper into the vault, Harry and Hermione following close behind.  

“A Genesis Finder...” Harry read from the label that sat next to an ornate wooden box.  

“Now the only question to answer, is would you like to remove it from the vault, use it here, or have Miss Granger use it here and take it with you” Axehand questioned.  

“I’d like to take it with me, I want to give the chance for other mundane born at Hogwarts to learn if they have a bigger connection to the magical world than they thought. But it’s up to you if you want to find out now or later Mi” he said turning to Hermione.  

She pondered for a moment. “Now” she said clearly, determination evident “I would like to find out now”  

“Very well, Lord Potter, if you will do the Honours” Axehand stated, motioning to the box.  

Harry stepped forward and undid the latch on the wooden box and slowly lifted the lid. Inside resting on soft green velvet cushions lay two intricately carved grey slates. Lifting it from the cushion incredibly delicately, fearing that he would somehow damage it. Being able to see it closer only re-affirmed what a masterclass of rune work this must have been to design and make. He saw sigils faintly engraved beneath the rune work which was infinitesimally small to the point that it looked like it was part of the pattern of the stone. He felt a faint pulse from the Potter ring on his finger, and he understood how it was supposed to be used, it was remarkably simple, the one being tested just had to lay their hands flat on either side of the slate and it would glow either Blue or Gold.  

“Put your palms together as if you are about to pray” he told Hermione, who nodded and did as he asked. Harry then carefully slipped the tablet between her hands. There was a moment of pregnant silence before Hermione winced in pain. Harry startled looked up and reached to snatch the jumped-up bathroom tile out of her hand, but before he could there was a gasp of shock as a new light began to shine in the darkness.  

From the palm of her hand shone a pale blue light.  

Chapter Text

Hermione stood eyes wide in wonder, bathed in sapphire light that illuminated her, she felt a light flourish deep inside, almost as if her magic was dancing with joy at being truly known. She’d never felt this kind of response from her magic before, she’d of course felt her magic when she’d succeeded in casting a particularly difficult spell but this, this was different almost as if it was happy? She looked over at Harry, whose face was lit up with joy.   

“A Genesis” he spoke softly “You’re a Genesis, an emergence of magic” his voice lifting at the revelation.  

“W... what does this mean?” she asked, finding her voice a little tremulous.   

“I don’t know” Harry replied “but we’ll find out” he followed warmly.   

The moment was broken however, by the sound of a sharp cracking, the blue light flickering and dying in her palm as the slate tablet crumbled and broke in her hand shards falling to the floor and clattering noisily.   

“Wha... oh no, Harry... I’m sorry” she said startled “I don’t know what happ..”  she began to say before Axehand interrupted.   

“No need to apologies Miss Granger, I suspected such a thing might happen” he intoned evenly and unsurprised. Both Harry and Hermione turned to look at him curiously.   

“What do you mean Axehand?” Harry questioned, not appearing to be all that bothered by the destruction of what Hermione thought was a priceless family relic. A relic that she had just broken.   

“They are of limited use, hence why there were multiple in storage here. I’ve no doubt there may be more at Potter Manor. It’s the use of slate you see, easy to carve and conducts rune work rather well. But does so only until its limit. The medium on which runes are carved has a substantial impact upon how long the rune scheme will operate before the magic that is channelled through the runes degrades the medium and causes it to crumble” he explained finishing with a gesture to the shards and dust that now coated the floor at their feet.   

Hermione tried to hide just how relieved she felt, now being told she hadn’t messed up and destroyed a priceless relic by accident.   

“Though I think that has put a stop to my plan to bring a finder with me though” Harry voiced. “As far as we know for certain that one” he said pointing to the identical slate still sitting on the velvet liner “Is the last one, and I certainly have no idea how to make another one” he spoke pensively about the situation.   

“There is always the option of copying that one to make more” Hermione proposed, Harry’s expression turning thoughtful at that idea.   

“I could bring it before our runesmiths if you like Harry” Axehand put forward “And then message you with a quote on what cost it would take to reproduce such an item”  

Harry nodded “I don’t see what else I could do; I certainly don’t know any runesmiths” he said with a shrug of his shoulders seeing no other option. “When Potter Manor is clear I'll have Dobby search it for any more Finders but until then, I'll have to put that idea aside”   

“Very well, I'll contact the graver's guild when I return to my office.” Axehand intoned, pausing a moment before continuing “Is there anything else you would like to inspect in this vault Lord Potter, or shall we move onwards to Vault 75”   

Harry took a moment, to turn around, taking in the sheer breadth and scale of the vault, not internalizing yet that, yes, everything in this cavern, and it truly was a cavern, belonged to him somehow. Taking a calming breath, he exhaled loudly through his nose, “No, lets move on”   

The three walked rather leisurely back towards the vault door, pausing every now and then when they, Hermione mostly, saw something that caught her interest. Stepping out of the vault and back into the imposing Hall of the Seven, the doors swung shut swiftly behind them sending a current of air strong enough to make his eyes water, even if the doors made no sound as they slammed closed.   

“It will be a short walk to the cart station” Axehand spoke as they left the hall, the warm golden firelight sputtering and dying behind them plunging the hall into darkness once more. A moment of absolute pervading darkness surrounding them before there was a spark of light as Axehand’s blue torchlight illuminated the narrow rough corridors around them.   

“Ah a matter we may as well discuss now, will you be following the Wizengamot ordinance regarding Ms Granger, Lord Potter?” Axehand spoke from the front of their group.   

“What? What ordinance is about me” Hermione blurted out loudly. Her grip on Harry’s arm tightening where she’d linked arms with Harry when the darkness had returned.   

“Ordinance?” Harry spluttered confused for a moment before remembering what he read in the Grimoire “oh, that ordinance” he muttered. Her grip grew stronger   

“What are you on about” she said insisted firmly.   

“Ah, so you see, when my ancestor first started talking about trying to find if there were truly mundane born wixen out there, he did so by goblin blood testing quite a lot of mundane born when they first walked into Gringotts. It caused problems with quite a few noble families” Harry explained to Hermione's rapt attention.   

“It uncovered a lot of dirty washing that they’d preferred to have stayed hidden, affairs, cast out squibs, things like that. So to get back at Alain, that's the ancestor that started all this, the Wizengamot ordered the Potters to seek out, find, protect, support and shelter all Geneses”   

He paused to take a breath, noticing that they were now starting to walk up a rather steep incline. “it was meant to be a punishment.” He continued “Since there was at the time no way to tell who was a Genesis and who was a re-emergence without Goblin blood testing.”   

“Something that your Wizengamot expressly forbade for all mundane born for a time I recall” Axehand chimed in.  

“Right, they were trying to force the Potters to take in, protect and most importantly pay for, every single mundane born wixen that entered the wixen world” Harry added.

“Because they had to seek all the Geneses but weren’t allowed to test them to confirm they were Geneses. So, they had to treat all Mundane born as Geneses or be in violation of this ordinance.” Hermione answered rapidly, proving once again just how sharp she really was. “It was why they came up with the Genesis finder wasn’t it, to get around the ordinance” she followed up.   

“Quite correct Miss Granger” Axehand spoke evenly in front of them. “Though it bears mentioning that the Potters taking in Geneses is no longer bound by law. But more something of a point of pride and honour, cultivating the next generation of magical’s that sort of thing.”  

“What would it mean? I mean what would me accepting this offer mean for me?” Hermione asked.   

“I am unaware of the specifics, It hasn’t been done since well before my time. I would have to seek the records. Lady Euphemia was the last to do so I believe, I could send you what I find if you like Ms Granger.” Axehand offered.   

“Please do, I’d need to think about it. And talk to my parents depending on what you find. It sounds like a big step.” she said a little nervously.   

Harry bumped her shoulder fondly “Whatever you want Mi, you know I'll always have you back no matter what you decide” he said earnestly.   

Their journey progressed through dark and winding tunnels for a short while longer. They saw that they were reaching the end of the trek through the dark when there was a distant gleam of torchlight up ahead. A moment later and Harry and Hermione found themselves standing in a wider space lit by oil lanterns. Clearly puzzled Hermione looked around the space, it wasn’t the size of the hall that they’d stood in not 10 minutes ago. The new area was long and narrow, with an arched ceiling of yellowish tiles that span across to the opposite wall where a fresco of a magnificent cave had been painted. There was a dark metal, three railed trackway hung suspended over a cavernous drop next to what was obviously a train station platform.   

“A tube station?” she muttered confused and curious. Looking around Harry found himself agreeing, it did look remarkably like an underground tube station, from what he remembered of the few times he’d ridden the underground that was. Though it did get him wondering, which came first, this or the underground?   

But before he could ask a rumbling sound grew closer and closer, moments later one of the Gringotts carts came trundling along the track way, unmanned, or would it be ungoblined, and stopped before them with a screech of its breaks and a small cascade of sparks that fell between the rails disappearing into the cavern below. Axehand hopped aboard with ease, obvious practice and familiarity, Harry meanwhile had to try and coax Hermione on board and into one of the seats as she glared at the contraption with nervous eyes. He managed it eventually reassuring her that it was perfectly safe, that he’d ridden these carts before, and he quite enjoyed them. Which turned out to be counterproductive, something he realised moments after when she fixed him with a glare. She began a small rant about him mentioning roller coasters earlier and she’d seen how he liked to fly when playing quidditch. It was Axehand who managed to finally get her on the cart though, as he explained that there were significant rune works built into the carts to ensure that no rightful passenger could ever be thrown from the seats, even if they tried to throw themselves overboard. Setting in, Hermione with his hand in a death grip reassurance be damned, they began to move. Axehand shooting Hermione a grim smile after she’d asked if they could go slowly, to which he replied, “One speed only” and sent the cart rattling along the track at high speed.   

The station disappeared behind them in a blur as they launched into the dark tunnel at the end of the station. A moment of sheer speed enveloped them as they were pressed back into their seats, Hermione’s grip on Harry’s hand growing vice like she tried not to scream. The blackness persisted momentarily, before something wonderous began to occur. At first Harry though that he was seeing stars in his eyes from the speed, but then it happened again, the briefest of darts of light in the depths, pinpoints of lights that in the speed they were going, were drawn out in slashes of luminance in the darkness. At one point traced along a vein of golden ore, that in the light of the lamp on the front of the cart seemed to be fleeing from them as they chased along a river of glittering golden spiderwebs.   

A moment later they emerged from the darkness into a wide-open cavern, held aloft by mighty towers of carven stone, lamps glinting in the distance. They began to pass more and more signs of the bank as the rocketed past cart stations sitting next to large iron doors that looked more typical of bank vaults.   

The squeal of the breaks and the slight pressure on his chest pressing against the enchantments holding them secure, let Harry know that they were starting to stop. Though both Harry and Hermione didn’t expect quite the sudden stop that they received as axehand wrenched a lever up by his seat halting the cart in a station that overlooked the cavern through which they’d been travelling.   

Axehand dismounted with an invigorated breath and a spring in his step clearly having enjoyed the ride. Harry, while used to the speed was still feeling the effects of such rapid stop and was wondering if there would be bruises where the invisible restraints had held them in their seats. He was at least able to help Hermione onto the platform, who clearly had not enjoyed the experience of the Gringotts carts.   

They stepped through the iron door, which was much more like Harry’s trust vault in size rather than the monolithic size of the Potter vault below. This vault was also a little smaller, not by much mind, he noted. Axehand had announced this vault as a hybrid of an artefact/armoury/library vault. Which had done a wonderful job of pulling Hermione out of the speed-based stupor the cart had put her in, stepping through she immediately made a bee line for the bookshelves that took up the immediate right of the sizable vault. There were enough shelves and books to create a library from the contents of the vault alone.   

Axehand had guided Harry to the armoury section to help him pick out a few sets of training weapons. When the vault inventory had mentioned the Armoury section he’d been impressed, but reading about owning an armoury was one thing, actually standing in the aisles of wooden racks, filed to the brim of weapons of all shapes and sizes was a different thing all together. Axehand guided Harry quickly through the modern section of the armoury, passing rifles, pistols, and a box that alarmed harry when he saw “Grenades” inked on the side. He picked out more than just a few training swords like he initially wanted to, with axehand picking out a set of blunted side swords, a set of training longswords he described as Feder’s as well as a handful of training daggers of different sizes. Secreting them away in the large storage area of his trunk, now relieved that he’d decided to buy and bring such a thing, since he didn’t want to put anything vaguely pointy into his nice new bookbag.   

Next, they headed over towards the library section, to both locate Hermione and pick up the fencing manuals that Axehand had recommended.   

Walking over he found Hermione sitting in a well-worn leather wingback chair next to a pile of books on the table one open in her lap.  

“Find anything good Mi?” he called out as he approached, Axehand having entered the stacks to track down the manuals.   

She looked up at him, beaming with delight. “You have some amazingly rare books down here Harry” she said excitedly, before gesturing to the book on her lap. “This is a second edition of Hogwarts: A History” She exclaimed.   

Harry grinned back relishing in her excitement, before taking a look at some of the books she’d piled next to her. There were both copies of Harmony Within, two charms books on refining the outcome of your spell work. A defence against the dark arts book named “Confronting the Faceless”. And no less than three history books on the suspected formation of Camelot, the Wizengamott and a treatise on the Seven Families.    

“You are borrowing these then?” he asked, drawing Hermione up short her expression turning a little guilty.   

“I mean if... if you're okay with me doi...” she began to say before being cut off.  

“Of course, Mi, I said the other day that I’d be happy to lend you anything you liked the look of. Though can I read the Defence book first?” he asked. She nodded easily.   

Leaving her for a moment he took a walk into the stacks himself. He idlily glanced across the shelves looking for something interesting, he didn’t find anything straight away, but two bookcases deep something caught his eye and his interest despite the mild somersault his stomach did when he saw the titles. “ Dark Horizons: Initiating into the Dark Arts, Against the Shadows: Defensive Techniques in Dark Magic, Crimson Covenant: The Art of Dark Ritual Magic ,”   

His mind went back to what his grandfather had told him, that the actual type of magic doesn’t matter, but the intent is key and what you plan to do with the spells you use. Yet even if he had agreed with Grampa Charlus at the time, he was truly still conflicted about the idea of using darker magic. He raised his hand to pick one of the dark and dusty leather tomes from the shelf but couldn’t help but to drop his arm. Scowling internally, he started to walk on to look for something else instead. Yet as he turned the corner into another section, he found himself stopping. His mind still calling back to his grandfather's words, and the writings that he’d read of his ancestors. That the Potters protected the balance, that they were Grey. That they learned both light and dark in order to protect as many people as possible. His thought process stuttered and became fixed on those words as he stood between the sections of the vault library. Surely if his family had protected both the light and the dark, then there was something about the dark arts that was valuable. Merlin, there was a small section of the library here dedicated to the dark arts, beginner's books too, meant to teach people about the parts of magic that he’d been told repeatedly since he entered this world were irredeemable.   

Turning around he marched back to where those books sat tantalisingly on the shelf, reached up and pulled one off the shelf. Feeling the aged leather crinkle a little under his fingertips he gingerly opened the cover, eyes squinting to make out the black lettering of the first page in the dim lighting of the vault. And he started to read.   

“ This, initiate, is your guide. Your guide beyond the Horizon and into the dark. A guide and a pathway through the veiled corridors of the arcane, offering illumination to those who would dare to tread the path less travelled.   

Within these pages you will encounter ancient incantations, rituals and potent spells that will defy and bend the boundaries of traditionally taught magic. But heed this warning, magic touched by the darkness that lies within the human heart comes with great power. Power that if not sought with a steady mind and a guarded heart will easily consume those who are unprepared.   

With this book you will unlock the pathway to the secrets of the night, will lead you to embrace the shadows that linger at the edge of perception. For in the realm of the Dark Arts, knowledge is both your shield and weapon, and only those who are willing to brave the depths of the abyss will emerge with the power to shape their own destiny.”   

He snapped the book closed, still a little conflicted, his eyes raking over the now closed cover where in red embossing on the black leather he could now see the title, “ Dark Horizons: An Initiates Guide”. Taking a deep breath, he pulled the flap of his messenger bag open and slipped it inside. He hesitated once again before taking the other titles, but they soon followed and were safely concealed within his bag. He would read the beginners books, carefully, then decide.   

Knowing that there’d be questions if he didn’t come out of the stacks with anything, he perused the shelves a little longer, finding a Dueling book that seemed interesting, as well as a few books on incorporating transfiguration in a defensive manor. Just because he was looking into the dark arts, did not mean he was discarding everything else after all, just another tool for his arsenal.   

Heading back to where Hermione was sitting, Harry saw that Axehand had joined her, holding three string bound parchment books that looked handwritten. Axehand passed over the manuscripts with a word to for Harry to take good care of them as they were quite valuable, being translations of the original texts. Hermione had already sequestered the books that she wanted to borrow, leaving a copy Harmony Within, Harry already thinking about reading through it once again, to see if it had any tips that he could pick up that would keep him safe as he dipped his toes into the world of the dark arts. As well as the copy of Confronting the Faceless that he’d asked if he could read first. He added them to the pile in his arms, listing the titles of the new books to Hermione who was naturally curious about what he’d selected.  

Pointedly he left out that he was also retrieving some books on the Dark Arts. He’d debated just telling her right out of the gate that he was going to be looking into the dark arts, but he didn’t want to worry. Still lying, even by omission to his best friend felt wrong. So, he came to the decision that he’d tell Hermione about what he was going to do back at the hotel room, he doubted that Axehand would stop him even if he declared it right here and now, but it would be much harder for Hermione to make him put the books back if they were in his room. He also thought that it would be easier for him to explain his new reasoning in a more comfortable and familiar environment rather than in a dark cavern vault.    

With their new acquisitions now acquired, the trio left the vault and boarded the cart that was to take them to the surface. Hermione boarded a little quicker, but more resigned than anything else knowing internally that there was no other way out of the depths of Gringotts than to use the carts. Unfortunately for Hermione the ride all the way back up to the surface level of the bank was a much longer affair, even if it was a little slower considering it was an uphill climb the entire way. She still stumbled a little while disembarking at the station, looking considerably greener than normal, ordering Harry to keep his distance a little until she was sure that she wasn’t going to be sick.   

Axehand escorted them up to the main hall of the bank after he’d discerned that they had no further business with him that day and stated that he would be in contact with Harry as soon as he had an update for him regarding The Mountain Estate. He also made a remark that he would be updating the master inventory list to reflect that they’d withdrawn a few items. He pointedly fixed his eyes on Harry whilst saying that, nearly causing Harry to begin sweating, knowing that Axehand did indeed know about every book that he’d withdrawn that day. Fortunately, Axehand didn’t bring anything specific right there and then though, much to Harry’s relief, though Axehand’s tone was pointed enough that Hermione did pick up that something had been silently said between them.   

Stepping back outside into sunshine of Diagon felt wonderful. The feeling of the fresh warm air wash over them. The light of near midday sun and the warmth pushing the darkness of the caverns and vaults, that they’d spent nearly the whole morning in off their shoulders. Hermione stood at the bottom of the stairs breathing deeply in measured and counted breaths, each breath seemed to return a bit of natural colour to her cheeks. Harry stood nearby waiting for her to collect herself.   

She collected herself rather quickly, and Harry knew that she was fine when she jabbed him in the arm sharply.  

“That” she said after tapping him “Was for not warning me about the carts” she said with a slightly softened glare that showed there was no heat behind it.   

“Sorry” he said with a light wince that was more about what he’d put her through than anything else “I didn’t really know how to describe them; I knew that you weren’t going to like them. But Gringotts doesn’t offer alternatives” he said placatingly.   

“I know, I know. The roller coaster comment makes far too much sense. What is it with the Wixen world and forcing travel to be uncomfortable” she said with a shake of her head.    

“I think in this case, it's the goblin’s deliberately making getting to your vault uncomfortable” he said, earning a snort from Hermione.   

“Probably, knowing their attitudes to most wixen. Now then, you said you wanted to visit Olivander's?” She double checked getting a nod from Harry. “His shop is literally just over there” she said pointing at the faced facade of Olivander’s Wand Shop. It’s aged sign rocking slightly on its chain, pushed by the breeze that flourished through the alleyway momentarily.   

“So, head there first? then we should probably think about getting something to eat since its nearly lunch.” she said, partly to herself.   

Harry was perfectly fine with that plan, Hermione took the lead and walked over towards the black painted door of Olivander's, Harry following swiftly behind.   

Pushing the creaking door open, there was a faint chime from deep in the shop, no doubt alerting Olivander that he had customers. They stepped inside, a cascade of rich woody scents enveloped them. Sunlight filtered through the dusty bay windows of the shop, sending beams of light through the air. The shop seemed to stretch before them, shelves upon shelves stacked with boxes of different sizes, rose all around them. Each containing a wand that patiently awaited its matched owner. Harry noticed that there was a subtle sense of magic everywhere inside the shop, as if the magic of the wands and of all the people who first joined with their wands in here had soaked into the very fibre of the space inside.   

The white-haired Olivander soon poked his head around the corner of one of the many wand box stacks behind the aged and pockmarked wooden counter.   

“Ahh, Miss Granger, delightful to see you again. Vine and Dragon heart, no? 10 ¾ inches, quite firm. I do hope it is still serving you well Miss Granger” he said his voice still in its odd rasp that Harry remembered from his first and only visit to the wand crafter.   

“And Mr. Potter...” he said his voice trailing off just before Harry expected him to rattle off the details of his own wand. Olivander’s gaze seemed to shift, as if he was no longer really seeing Harry or Hermione. It lasted but a moment, until the glinting curiosity and odd sight of Olivander returned in full force. His voice dropped to but a whisper that still seemed to resonate within the cramped wand shop.   

“Curious, most curious, Mr. Potter, if that is indeed the correct address for you.” he said lowly, pearlescent silver eyes locked onto Harry.   

There was a moment of silence, the air grew taught with tension, an anticipation that was almost tangible in the air as Olivander seemed to be waiting for something.   

Harry knew what the wandmaker was waiting for, he was waiting for Harry to introduce himself properly. The hazy silver eyes bore into him as he stilled, thinking rapidly as to whether to reveal to the old man that he was Lord Potter now. He was tempted to blow the man off, but then again, Olivander was part of the Seven Families too and the man clearly already knew somehow. Harry nudged the ring into visibility with a thought and bowed low to what he now suspected might indeed be Lord Olivander, when he’d heard that there was an Olivander family, he’d thought that there might be another Olivander about somewhere in the country since the Wandcrafter didn’t seem like the lordly type, but then again, neither did Harry.   

“I knew you were destined for great things Lord Potter, but I did not foresee them beginning quite so soon” he said dropping his head in a bow of his own.   

“I think it would be prudent for us to have a bit of a chat at some point Lord Potter. Myself being the elder of the Seven Families, now that Arcturus, Hecate rest his magic, has passed on that is.”   

“I think I’d like that Lord Olivander” Harry replied, eager to talk to someone who seemed to know what they were doing with this Lordship business. “And please, call me Harry” he added. There seemed to be another glint in Olivander's eyes, before he gave a soft nod.   

“Now then Harry” he started to speak. “What brings you to my humble shop this day, an issue with your wand I sense? Holly and Phoenix feather. Quite a remarkable wand, no?” he spoke in the same whispery rasping tone.    

Harry nodded his head “Yeah, something has changed, with me, I think. It’s almost as if there is a missing piece”   

“Hmm, how unfortunate for you to have experienced such a thing so young. It’s not an uncommon thing for your first wand to require alteration as you grow and develop new outlooks on life. Though I admit, such a thing does not usually occur until later in life. If you would Harry, draw your wand and cast a maintained Lumos charm for me” Olivander requested, his eyes focused on the wand as soon as Harry drew it from his pocket and did as the wand crafter asked, summoning white point of light at the tip of his wand, feeling the now ever present dissonance in his palm.   

Olivander had emerged from behind the counter and stood close to Harry his eyes lidded and hand raised towards the pinprick of light at the tip of the wand. He muttered under his breath rapidly as he used some other sense to examine the wand.  

“I see” he mumbled mostly to himself as he opened his eyes and dropped his arm. “May I Harry” he asked his hand proffered before him, asking to hold Harry’s wand. Harry complied, extinguishing the charm and handing over the wand for Olivander to inspect.  

Olivander took a moment to go through what Harry thought must have been a quite thorough inspection, though what holding a wand up to your ear and tapping it lightly allowed you to learn anything about a wand he had no idea. But then again, he wasn’t a wand maker.  

“Ahh” Olivander intoned after five minutes of inspection. He laid the wand carefully on the counter and spun excitably on the spot, a manic and beaming smile on his face, and spoke with the rasp in his voice mysteriously gone for the moment.  

“I believe that something has changed within you Harry, you are not quite the same person that walked into my shop two years ago. Wands can be quite fickle at times you know” he said enthusiastically. “But this wand even if you have changed, still quite adores you. Even if the bond between you has been altered so you are linked in a different way, you are right though, it is now missing something to fully reconnect to you.” he explained.  

Harry thought pensively, Lord Olivander’s statement made a lot of sense. Casting his mind back he remembered the man’s last statement to him before he left after first receiving this wand. That the phoenix feather in his wand was one of two, and the other served as the core of Voldemort’s wand. Could the Horcrux have once been the reason that his wand had chosen him in the first place, but what linked them now if that was the case?  

Olivander must have seen the look on Harry’s face when he’d started thinking about the matched cores of his and Voldemort’s wand, as the wand maker was now staring at him as if he were a brand-new puzzle to figure out.  

“Come!” the wand maker declared suddenly, waving his hand to flip the sign on the shop door around declaring the shop to be closed. “Please, to my workshop both of you. It is there we can find the answer” he muttered eagerly, lifting part of the counter and beckoning them through. Olivander led Harry and Hermione through the mountainous stacks of wand boxes behind the counter, both Harry and Hermione were surprised just how many nooks and cranny’s that wands were stuffed into, but moments later Olivander lead them through a small door hidden at the back of the shop.  

He and Hermione were no doubt expecting Olivanders workshop to reflect his shop, stuffed to the brim with draws and cabinets. But they couldn’t be more wrong. As they crossed the threshold and descended a set of rickety stairs they stepped in to a wide-open chamber unlike any other. Torches hung mounted on the wall, their flickering flames lending light to the room, assisted by the multitudes of candles that were also lit bathing the room in a soft, steady golden light. The air was heavy with the scent of ancient wood, incense and a hint of ozone which bit through the earthy tones with a metallic tang.  

The work shop itself was far from the cramped conditions above in the main shop. Yes, there was clutter here and there, but a wide range of glass faced cabinets filled to the brim with bars of wood of a hundred different hues and grains stood proudly along the back wall. On the side walls held racks containing jars upon jars of core materials, most of which Harry couldn't even guess as to their origin. Turning to Hermione he saw her eyes alight nearly glowing in sheer curiosity, taking in the sights of a wand crafters workshop. She shot him a delighted smile before continuing to gaze around the workshop.  

Now if the shelves and jars of materials caught Hermione’s curiosity then it would be the wand makers bench, that Olivander now stood by that caught Harry’s attention. At the centre of the workshop stood a magnificent carved oak bench, its surface worn smooth by generations of craftsmen and women, but it was not the bench alone that drew Harry’s eyes but the ritual circle that surrounded it. The circle itself was marked by a ring of ancient standing stones embedded into the walls, causing them to miss them at first, but now noticing them he tugged Hermione's sleeve and pointed. Their surfaces were etched with arcane sigils and glyphs that seemed to pulse with an inner light. Each stone, that when focused on radiated a sense of ageless power.  

“I see my workshop has caught your interest?” Olivander intoned, a note of joy and delight to his voice. “If you would please place your wand in the holder on my bench here Harry” Olivander asked.  

Harry stepped into the ritual circle feeling a faint tickle as the natural magic of the circle brushed across his skin. Stepping up to the work bench he placed the wand in what seemed like a holder of some sort and took a step back.  

Olivander raised his hands seemingly reverent as if he were praying and spoke lowly, almost harshly “ sehwaną bindanan”. Olivander’s eyes seemed to glow now, as if they were lit with a fire of their own. At first Harry thought that it was a trick of the torch light, but when Olivander, who stood on the other side of the bench to him, met his eyes. It became clear that there was a point of gold now, deep within the black pupils and silver irises of Olivander’s eyes. Olivanders Gaze bore down on Harry, scrutinising him. Until the golden bead in the wand crafters eyes blinked out of existence and a look of realisation burst onto the old man’s features.  

“This wand” Olivander sounded hoarse now, clearly whatever he just did took a lot out of him.  

“This wand is still bound to you and wishes to renew your connection. But it is no longer a complete wand for you. It is missing a few aspects that are now a part of you but are not reflected in it. The holly is still a decent match but cannot contain your newer martial attitudes alone, it is a wood of protection yes, and wishes still to protect you.” The wand maker explained “But, it needs to be supplemented with another wood that will assist you, when you seek danger.” Olivander continued, before stepping away from the bench and heading towards a cabinet.  

He rustled around inside for a moment, and returned with a collection of blocks of wood and laid them on the bench in front of Harry. He felt a pinch in his hand, as it was clasped in Hermione’s who had stepped forward, accompanying him.  

“Now, then Harry, I have selected several blanks that, may, just may work with you well. If you will carefully lay your wand hand over them. See if one responds to you” he said eagerly.  

Lifting his right hand, dislodging Hermione’s, he gingerly placed it on the first block. Its surface was as dark as midnight and was polished to an almost mirror like sheen. It almost seemed to draw in the light around it casting dancing shadows across its surface. It was almost elegant.  

“Ebony” Olivander intoned.  

Harry focused on the feeling of the magic in his palm, sending it out, searching and feeling the response. A sharp jab of ice was the response, but it was playful almost, it liked him, perhaps too much so, but it wasn’t right. No not that one. Olivander’s eyes narrowed in curiosity then. Before turning pensive.  

Moving to the next block, he rested his palm on it. This wood was somber almost, had a feeling of solemnness that struck harry first. Its surface, visually, was a deep and rich brown, tinged with flecks of white and green, smooth and unblemished. Focusing in with his magic he was met with a sense of wisdom, of secrets, and sheer undeniable power.  

“Yew” Olivander whispered, almost a little frightened by the length of time harry was spending with this wood. Knowing what the twin core did encased in yew no doubt giving him pause.  

Meanwhile Harry, still focusing on the yew block pushed a fragment of power towards it but felt his magic brush off it. The wood unwilling to make a connection. He shook his head and moved on.  

The next block gleamed with a warm, reddish-brown hue. Its surface smooth and polished, rich and lustrous it almost glowed with its own inner fire. The grain of the wood flowed like rivers of molten gold, swirling and interlocking with mesmerising patterns that shifted in the flickering light.  

“Mahogany” Olivander spoke.  

Placing his hand on the block, got an immediate reaction, one that felt strangely familiar, but not the sort he was looking for. It seemed joyful, but it was the joy when meeting a friend in an unexpected place, surprised and happy. Not the joy of being in the hand of the one that you belong with. Harry moved on.  

“Hmm,” Olivander uttered. “Not entirely unsurprising, but it may be interesting for you to know Harry, that your father’s wand was taken from this particular block of wood. The sole wand from it in fact.”  

Not wanting to grapple with that mess of emotions he moved on to the next block.  

This block was sturdy and steadfast as he placed his hand upon it. Its surface was a patchwork of russet hues and golden tones. Sending a pulse of magic it into it he felt the inherent magic to be resilient, hardy and dependable almost. Yet, it wasn’t quite right. Not what he was looking for. While he didn’t really know what he was doing, Harry suspected that he’d know what was right the moment he placed his hand on it.  

Moving to the last block of wood, he looked at it first. This block was rugged, almost weathered. Its surface marred with deep grooves and gnarled knots. Patches of dark bark still clung to the edges like a fallen shroud. Placing his hand upon it he felt it. The hidden part of a melody of magic that was missing from his wand. Not all of it mind, there was still yet another piece missing, but here was what he was looking for. There was a feeling of understanding, of this new part of him. The part that wanted to live up to the expectations of his ancestors. The part of him that would defend others, that had been brought forward in the past week.  

“Blackthorne” Olivander spoke. “The wandwood of a warrior” he said with a nod. “You grow ever more interesting Lord Potter. But I had a feeling that would be so. Blackthorne is the wood of duality, of dark and light, perfect for a Potter. If Oak is the father of the forest, Elder its king and Beech its queen. Then Blackthorne is its mother. I shall incorporate Blackthorne to your wand, perhaps as a handle. But we have only solved part of the puzzle. Now comes the matter of the core, but I believe you may already have the answer, a phoenix lies within your blood but what else?” he said fixing Harry with a shrewd look.  

“Do you have anything from a basilisk?” Harry asked earning him a look of realisation and clarity from the wandmaker.  

“So, what my heir tells me of this past year is true then? A king serpent stalked the halls of Hogwarts?” he questioned. “And now stands before me its slayer.” A nod from Olivander had him marching over to the racks and returning with a single jar. A single miniscule fang lay at the bottom resting on a little wooden plinth next to a vial containing a single drop of viscous blood red venom. Harry had to stop himself from recoiling from the sight of the venom, his mind flashing back to the maw of a gigantic snake open in front of him, about to consume him. Bone white teeth dripping red ichor, the feeling of pain, of fire spreading throughout his veins, the apathy and coldness of death knowing that his life was over.  

A pressure in his hand brought him back. Chasing the warmth in his palm he pulled himself out of the suffocating memories back to Olivander’s workshop, Hermione clutching his hand, a look of worry in her eye, it was only the glint of life in them that stopped him spiralling back into the memory, of thinking she was back in the Hospital wing.  

“Harry?... Harry” She said concerned, seeing that he had nearly disassociated.  

“It’s okay Mi” he said, voice catching in his throat momentarily, “Just the sight of the venom... bad memories” he said with a slight shake of his head.  

“Does it have to be the venom?” she asked Olivander knowing that the basilisk had affected Harry more than he’d ever tell her. Olivander looked at him solemnly.  

“Yes, I think it does. The phoenix whose tears are in your blood is the same phoenix which gave a feather for your wand. As such the feather adores you even more for the connection, but it is being rebuked by the venom in your blood. The venom that is becoming part of you. The longer you wait the more the venom becomes a part of you and the dissonance between you and the wand grows. By renewing the wand wood to by adding the Blackthorne to balance the protective qualities of Holly, we must also balance the fundamental primal force that is the basilisk venom in your blood, the most potent destructive venom in existence, and the lack of such a quality in your wand.”  

“So, a wand is a reflection of its owner?” Hermione said with a little scepticism laced through her tone. This earned a small chortle from Olivander  

“Indeed Miss Granger, when you first walked into my shop years ago, I saw a young girl who will one day take this country by storm and rattle its biases. Paired with a dragon's heart it reflects the strength of your ideals.”  

This seemed to unsteady Hermione, being faced with another’s conviction in her always rattled her Harry thought. Whenever he, Ron, or any of their friends showed just how much faith they had in her, always seemed to make her close off a little, as if she didn’t quite believe what she was hearing.  

“But quite frankly I've never quite seen a wand with as deep a link as Mr. Potter here. Nor will I, once I've made the modifications to add the venom to the core and Blackthorne to the Holly, will I ever see again I reckon.” He said with certainty.  

“Now I must ask you two to leave, it will take me” He paused, wondering aloud about the processes he should use to alter Harry’s wand. “No less than two hours to remake your wand, Lord Potter. Please return then.” he said with a smile, gesturing to the door of his workshop.  

Harry and Hermione blinked at being dismissed quite so frankly like that but made their way towards the door anyway. By the time that they’d reached the door, Olivander had already set the pieces on the bench and had begun to work with a frantic pace. Harry had no desire to see his wand carved and torn apart, so he was quite eager to leave. Hermione meanwhile was seemed quite disappointed that she wouldn’t get to watch a wand maker at work.  

Moments later they stood back out on the bustling main street of Diagon Alley, the hubbub of the crowd that was moving idly up and down the alleyway, dipping in and out of shops. Groups meeting up next to lampposts before moving onwards together.  

“Well, it’s good to know that Mr. Olivander is genuinely a little odd, and it's not an act he puts on for the muggle born I suppose” Hermione whispered to Harry, drawing a chuckle out of the slightly subdued attitude he’d had since leaving the workshop.  

“Come on” she said, linking her right arm with his left. “Let's go to the Leaky Cauldron, get something to eat.” she continued, pulling Harry along, who was slowly coming back around.  

Ten minutes later, he found himself sat at a table near the fireplace, Tom setting a plate of sandwiches, and a pitcher of lemonade in front of him and Hermione. Making sure to thank Tom for bringing the food over during a lunch rush, he tucked in. His thoughts still weighing on the flashback that he’d had in the workshop. Hermione must have figured out that something was still bothering him.  

“Penny for your thoughts Harry?” She asked. Setting a goblet of lemonade she’d just poured in front of him.  

He looked over and saw the concern on her face. “It... it's the Venom, when... when i saw it, it brought me back to the chamber. I never said, I never told anyone not even Dumbledore, but. But I was dying Hermione. I could feel it, the fire of the Venom, being chased by ice” Hermione froze beside him, eyes drawn wide in alarm, face etched by shock.  

“I don’t know how I feel about the thing that almost killed me being part of my wand. Something that is so dear to me, something that is an extension of my magic. I know the Fawkes healed me immediately afterwards but...”  

“You don’t know how to deal with the idea that something that nearly killed you, is now such a big part of you. That it’s changed you so much that your wand isn’t connected to you properly anymore?” She asked gently.  

Harry took a sip of lemonade, the sugar and ice-cold liquid coating his throat, relieving the dryness that had suddenly taken hold. He nodded to Hermione.  

“I have nightmares.” Hermione told him quietly after thinking for a moment, shifting her chair closer.  

“About the basilisk” she paused again.  

“About seeing those awful eyes in the mirror. The utter feeling of helplessness. Being stuck in my body as this awful creature slid past me. The scream of Professor Sprout when she found me and Penelope. The days slipping by me, watching the sun race across the hospital wing ceiling again and again. Do you know what helps me when I wake up still scared that I might be stuck back in my body, not being able to move again.”  

Harry shook his head. Meeting her eyes which were now blazing, fierce and kind all at the same time.  

“You”  

Harry blanched in shock. Him? Why? He reeled internally.  

“That you killed it, that its dead. That that snake will never ever again be able to hurt me or anyone else. Because of you, out of everyone in the castle. Merlin even if I still feel like throttling you at times for walking into such danger. It was you that went down there, yes with Ron at first, but you went into the chamber alone to face a legendary monster to save your friends little sister. And. You. Won.”  

Harry pressed back into chair, being confronted with the realisation that his best friend thought so highly of him. She wasn’t finished though.  

“That that same boy, who would stand against a monster to save the life of someone that you barely knew. Is also the same boy who sat by my bedside every night. Every single night. When I was petrified, to read class notes, and stories and to just talk. Just so that I wouldn’t feel alone, in case I was still conscious in my frozen body.” There was note of softness in her voice now, a fondness that he couldn’t place.  

“So, if you struggle with knowing that that snake is a part of you, know that its only just a part of you. Just a part, because you won. You stopped it, you stopped the diary. You saved Ginny. You saved so many more people that we’ll never know that were in danger, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Hermione went quiet then. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand turning away slightly, reaching for another sandwich.  

Harry sat there for a moment, stunned by Hermione's thoughts. Thinking them through piece by piece as he mindlessly ate, barely even tasting the food he was eating. She was right, he thought. He did win, but it was by chance though, wasn’t it? Sheer dumb luck, as McGonagall might have put it. Yet he was here, so was Hermione, and Colin and Justin and everyone else that had fallen victim to the Basilisk. There was also the fact that the venom in his blood yes, might have changed him, but according to the blood diagnostic that the Goblins had done, had given him near immunity to any venom-based poisons in the future. Surely that was a plus?  

They finished their meal in silence, enjoying each other's companionship more than anything else. Harry parsed through his conflicting thoughts, Hermione’s words echoing in his head the entire time. By they’d finished, stood up paid for their meal and headed back out into Diagon Alley, Hermione eagerly dragging Harry on wards to a second-hand bookstore she’d seen in passing on Cardin Alley. Harry felt a little better. Linking an arm with Hermione once again, at her insistence. He felt a little bit of weight he didn’t know he was carrying with him lift from his shoulders. Focusing on the fact that, yes, he was still here, but he was not unmarked by his experiences. But that was okay.  

Chapter Text

Harry and Hermione stood in line for the till at Wiseacre’s Secondhand Books, having spent the last 45 minutes combing through the shelves of a rather large and somewhat chaotic place. Hermione seemed to love this place, chaos and all, which harry found a little surprising. He would have thought that when it came to books, she would have preferred it to be nice and orderly, like a library. So that she could easily find what she was looking for nice and quickly. When he’d asked her that, she’d just given him a cheeky smile and said “Well I don’t know what I'm looking for at the moment do I? I am just seeing what there is to get and what strikes my interest.”   

When he’d said mumbling as quietly as he could that that would likely result in her walking out with the entire bookshop, she’d jabbed him in the arm again. Nursing a very lightly stinging arm he thanked Merlin that she didn’t know how to send wandless stinging hexes at him and that it was too crowded in here for her to be able to use her wand without someone seeing her break the no magic during the holiday’s rule.   

That’s not to say that he didn’t find a few books that he found piqued his interest either. In his basket, lay an introduction to chain casting, the term rang a bell and had him recall that his mother had used chain casting to create the spell that linked a Wix to their personal libraries. After having a quick glance through the first few pages, he found that chain casting was a method of quick firing spells that used the final wand movement of one spell to lead into the first movement of another spell. The book contained a compendium of chains consisting of slightly modified spells used in basic duelling, he was quite eager to have a proper read through later. He’d also picked up a book on charms casting offensively and defensively, which quirked his interest, he had seen Flitwick use the levitation spell to crush a troll’s skull after all, he chided himself internally for not making the connection of intent meaning everything with magic once again.   

Hermione was quite proud of him when he’d added a potions book to his basket, it was a slightly earlier edition of the one that he’d read through in his room at the Golden Wyvern, he’d found it useful and doubted if he’d be able to take it with him when he left. Seeing a cheap copy marked for a couple of knuts had him adding it to his pile, along with a book on famous runic arrays and a book on spell modification that made his head spin from the arcane arithmancy diagrams inside, but the concept of modifying spells just felt too fascinating to give up.   

Hermione’s pile was easily twice the size of his though, and she was thankful that there were lightening charms on the baskets to make carrying them all easy. She’d gotten books on practically anything that vaguely caught her interest, charms compendiums, transfiguration guides, a second copy of the arithmancy book that Harry had picked up. Of course, with a promise that he could borrow any of them that he liked the look of, extracting a promise from Harry that she could do the same.   

Walking out of the shop having paid for and stowed their purchases safely away in their bags. The shop was very reasonably priced too, Harry noted. Their combined haul only reached two galleons. Quite impressive considering that between them they’d bought nearly fifteen books. To buy the same from Flourish and Blotts would have easily cost them three times as much for half as many.   

Their next stop was the potioneers shop on Horizonte Alley. Andy had pointed it out to him the previous day, saying that their kits were quite affordable and of very decent quality for beginners to intermediate brewers. The brass sign outside hung proudly as the two made their way towards the shop. Elixir’s Essentials. Pushing the door open a bell rung softly above their heads. A strange scent met them as they walked inside, there were a few other customers inside, each examining various pieces of equipment, a few pieces of equipment that Harry didn’t recognise. Hermione split off saying that she wanted to look at a new set of weights for her scales, since she’d accidentally dropped them when packing this year and wasn’t sure if she’d affected their calibration. Harry walked up to the long granite counter at the back of the shop and caught the eye of the shopkeeper who’d been stacking cauldrons in the corner.   

The man brushed a bit of dust from his very fine robes and slipped his wand up his sleeve before making his way over.   

“Good afternoon young sir. How can I help you this fine day” The man said, a neutral smile on his face.   

“Um, yes, Andromeda Tonks recommended me this place yesterday, said it would be a good place for me to get an entirely new potions kit?” Harry spoke evenly. The man lit up at the mention of Andy.   

“A recommendation from Andromeda, eh? Well, she’s correct.” The man said, his words becoming more genial at the mention of his somewhat aunt. Though a curious thing did occur, the man’s eyes flicked up to his forehead, eyes trying to piece through the mess of hair he always pulled across his scar.   

“A full set you said? Lost or damaged your previous set, if it's just damaged then we may be able to repair them. Certain instruments can build an affinity with their users after all.” The man said   

Harry wondered about that, if his set was second hand then that couldn’t have helped his brewing process. Though his thoughts did go to his ritual knife. Axehand had warned him that it would only ever work for him and should only ever be used by him on him.   

“So is potion making a little bit like ritual magic then?” he blurted out unable to stop his thoughts.  

The shop keep took half a step back and looked at him appraisingly. Whispering slightly under his breath, most people wouldn’t have picked it up, but Harry’s hearing was uncommonly good thanks to his upbringing, his muttering sounded a lot like “ Bloody Severus”    

“Quite right young man, not many people actually pick up on that. It's even worse with ministry interference trying to ban anything even remotely related to ritual magic these days. But yes, Potions are in fact a very subtle form of ritual magic. If you just chucked a bunch of random ingredients into a pot, mashed them up and boiled them, you’d get nothing.” The man raised a finger and retrieved a handsome wood varnished case, about a handspan tall and as wide as the opening to his chest. Flipping a pair of brass latches, he spun it on the countertop to face Harry and lifted the lid. Inside were an array of potions making equipment set into slots in the wood, including a full student size cauldron, which theoretically shouldn’t fit in there but magic.   

The man motioned to a set of three stirring rods, one pewter, one iron and one glass. “Now if you think to your potion's lessons, what is the most common activity you do when brewing a potion?” Harry thought for a moment, and seeing what the man was gesturing at the answer was obvious. Though he noted a large ring on his left hand’s pinkie. But a voice from behind him spoke.  “Stirring of course”   

The man looked exasperated as the voice spoke and Harry turned, standing behind him was a girl he recognised. Standing with perfect posture and exuding confidence, stood a girl, that seemed to be looking straight past him ignoring him.  

“Daphne, you already knew that, nor was the question directed at you my dear” the shopkeeper? which Harry was now beginning to doubt, uttered a little put out.  

Daphne Greengrass, one of the understated Slytherins of his year, Harry thought. He’d never really paid any attention to her, nor had he ever really been this close to her before. Taking a better look, she had an odd luminance to her skin, which was porcelain white. Her eyes were a piercing Ice blue that held a keen intelligence and her face with delicate features were framed with long flowing locks of silken blonde hair. Not wanting to be caught staring he shifted his gaze, into a short bow.   

“Heir Greengrass” he intoned, which caused her piercing eyes to snap to him, a calculating look deep within them. Looking around the shop he saw that the other patrons had just left, leaving the shop to be filled with himself, Hermione and now what he was certain was two Greengrass’s. With it just being them and him, he felt safe enough to do this.   

He turned back to the gentleman behind the counter who was once again looking at him appraisingly. He nudged the Potter ring to the forefront and begun a bow he was rapidly getting used to at this point and greeted Lord Greengrass as an equal. It was worth it for the sheer look of indignity on Daphne’s face as her mask slipped, she was quite aware of the social niceties then. She spotted the Potter ring on Harry’s left hand, and immediately stopped herself from speaking, a neutral mask slipping back in place, though there were still traces of shock around her eyes.   

“Lord Greengrass well met, but please, call me Harry.” He intoned.   

Lord Greengrass mirrored the greeting, his mask not even slipping in the slightest, but for a glint of interest in his eyes. “Well met, Lord Potter, and please call me Gareth” he said returning from the bow.   

“I may have panicked a little yesterday, forgetting any other form of Greeting when I met your wife yesterday, when Andromeda escorted me to Bluebottles” Harry said purposely touching his tone with a touch of a humour that he didn’t quite feel, since he was improvising once again. Though he was comforted, feeling the subtle sense that Hermione was now locked onto the conversation.   

“Ah, so that is what had gotten Eliana so worked up yesterday, I had wondered. I attempted to pry but she was quite insistent on staying quiet.” he said mirthfully.   

“I would be quite grateful if you’d not spread it around just yet that I've taken the Potter lordship, I'm not quite ready to go completely open regarding this change” he said mostly towards Daphne, as he was unsure of who she talked to in Slytherin. “Though I doubt that I'll be hiding things quite so much, when School resumes” he added, giving Daphne an out. He wasn’t sure as to why, but he figured that if things had gotten around to the point that Malfoy brought it up during his annual bug Harry on the train visit come September, he’d know that Daphne had talked to him. Glancing over at her, he saw that she was staring at him intensely, as if she was trying to figure him out.   

It was Lord Greengrass who broke the mildly tense silence. “Where were we, oh yes, I was attempting to sell you this potions kit” he said in jest.   

“You were about to elaborate on potions as Ritual magic father” Daphne intoned evenly  

“Ahh yes, I’d just mentioned stirring. Potions making is best done in a relatively magically neutral area, unless a potion specifically calls for it. But they are very advanced potions and are very few and far between, so you’ll not have to worry about most of those unless you attempt a mastery. For most potions you imbue a potion with magical power in two ways, usually a combination of both. By the inherent magical nature of the ingredients themselves, and through the stirring rod, no potion will ever call for a spell cast directly upon the contents during brewing” He explained, making a firm point on that last statement.   

“Granger” Daphne said behind him,   

“Greengrass” Hermione said cordially to his right. Good she’d stepped forward then.   

Lord Greengrass continued “But in many cases, the type of stirring rod used will matter, as each conducts magic in a different manor, if at all. Pewter is pure, but has a medium conductivity, as such decent for most potions. Iron is a highly conductive material and will actively pull magic from you rather quickly, more than your wand would in fact, its why pure iron wands are the worst material that a wandmaker has ever tried to make a wand from. While glass is utterly nonconductive. What uses would you gather for these rods?” he questioned.   

Harry was rather enjoying this impromptu potion making lesson, if he couldn’t feel Daphne practically rolling her eyes at such basic potions prep that was. It was Hermione who answered though.   

“Iron would be useful when using ingredients that have low magical innate power, while glass for the reverse, or for when you can't risk adding magic to a potion at all.”  

“Quite correct miss?”   

“Granger, Hermione Granger” she replied from behind him.   

“Indeed? Daphne has mentioned you taking top of the year” he said idly.   

Harry risked turning around to glance at the girls behind him. Hermione was looking at Daphne curiously, Daphne meanwhile had maintained her mask and was looking straight ahead refusing to engage with the two of them. Though her body language was betraying her slightly. She was tempted to speak with them.   

“Heir Greengrass, we’re not going to snitch on you to the other Slytherins if you deign to interact with us you know” Harry said, attempting to bait her into opening a little, he was surprised to see that it worked.    

“Oh, I'm rather re-assured that you value my standing that much Lord Potter” she said acerbically, though her mask slipped and let a little humour bleed through around her eyes.    

“Ah, another sarcastic Slytherin, Hecate’s mercy” Harry muttered mostly to himself, he was surprised that it drew a light laugh from Daphne.   

“More bored to tears regarding information I learned at age 5, than anything else” She quipped lightly.   

“Then you’ll have to spare a thought for us poor mundane raised folk who thought at age five potions were gotten from something that resembles a hag more than a Wixen” Harry bit back. He wasn’t expecting to draw an expression of surprise from her with that.   

“You’re Muggle raised?” she replied, mask chipping, allowing shock to peer through. A similar look of confusion appeared on Lord Greengrass’s face as well.   

“Uh, yes? I mean I've never really hidden it” Harry replied a little confused.   

“The attitudes of most Wixen raised at school, are that you just never bothered with the niceties. The social rules mean a lot, particularly in Slytherin.” Daphne said a little conciliatory. “But if you were never taught them...” she continued slightly uncomfortable now.   

Her father came to her rescue, jumping into the conversation. “I believe what my daughter is attempting to say. Is that it is baffling to people who grew up in our world to even try to comprehend that you did not” He said, pausing briefly to try and organise his thoughts.   

“It’s not just that you are ‘The-Boy-Who-Lived' either. As I'm sure now that you have taken up your ring, The Potters are a significant part of the fabric of this corner of our world. Then there is The Boy Who Lived fame that has been added on top of everything else. To learn that you have the knowledge of a mundane born is quite frankly... astounding. Most people assumed that you were being raised by distant relations of the Potters, perhaps overseas.” Gareth followed up, his eyes looking over Harry once again, now in a new light.  

“So, let me try and get this straight.” Harry spoke haltingly, trying to wrap his brain around the consequences that Lord Greengrass had implied.  

“Most people believe that I was raised in this world, but none of my behaviour reflects that because i wasn’t.” he said frankly “But they still expect me to know all the rules and social niceties that go along with being raised in the wixen world.” Harry thought out loud, He stopped speaking when he came to what was a startling realisation.  

“Does that mean that most people I've interacted with believe that I've been purposely ignoring tradition”  

“It may come across like that” Gareth began to say before being interrupted by Daphne who sharply said “Yes”  

He turned to face her once again.  

“Yes” she continued seeing the questioning look on Harry’s and now Hermione’s face  

“The predominant opinion in Slytherin are along that line... But that is not necessarily a bad thing” she said placatingly before continuing “It is far better to be seen as someone who openly flouts the common practices because they have knowledge of them and thusly chooses to ignore them, than to be someone who breaks them because they do not know about them. One is a position of strength; the other is weak and liable to be taken advantage of.”  

Before Harry could ask her to elaborate further, the door to the shop swung open and a small group of customers wandered in to examine the wares. There went their privacy, no longer wanting to talk about such sensitive matters with an audience, Harry turned back to Lord Greengrass trying to come up with a neutral topic, before he went back to the initial thing that he’d come in here for.  

“How much will the potions kit cost me” he asked neutrally while internally cheering for the segway, as if they hadn’t been talking about a sensitive matter not a minute earlier.  

“This complete set suitable for up to advanced brewing and ingredient storage, including purifying a purifying slate for your implements and cauldron cleaner will cost 100 galleons” Lord Greengrass spoke evenly, matching Harry’s tone with ease. “Do you perchance have a trunk from Travellers Trunks?” Harry nodded “Excellent then this whole kit will slide onto the back and fasten itself securely.”  

Harry retrieved the Potter bank card from his satchel and handed it over, still reeling from the rapid switch from intense conversation to cordial transaction with the appearance of other people. A few moments later Harry and Hermione were heading out of the shop and back onto Horizonte alley.  

“Potter, Granger.” Daphne called out just before they walked out the door. The two turned to face the girl once again, “See you at school” she said neutrally, catching Harry and Hermione off guard. They nodded and mumbled a response back and headed out.  

A minute later when they had put a bit of space between them and the shop, Hermione spoke “Well, that was interesting.”  

“You're telling me, apparently, I've been incredibly rude this entire time. I really need to write Neville now, see what else I've been missing” Harry replied chiding himself.  

“I don’t think you should start acting too differently” Hermione said cautiously.  

“What? Why?” Harry said confused.  

“Because if you suddenly start acting differently and following all the so-called social niceties then people will think something is up. I’m not saying don’t learn all the rules and know how to avoid the occasional Faux pas. But if people already think that you know the rules and ignore them on purpose, that is what you need to learn how to do. It’ll put you in a better position than revealing to everyone that you’ve only just started learning the rules.” she said voice lowered so that only Harry could hear her.  

He thought on it for a while as they wandered the streets, eventually passing by the Oculist that Healer Ranala had recommended. He was quiet the entire time they were in the glasses shop as Harry mulled over the words of the Greengrasses and Hermione. 20 minutes later, Harry with a brand-new pair of silver rimmed circular glasses, that were laced with charms to be indestructible and to not come off his face unless he wanted them too, had come to a decision.  

“I’ll get into contact with Neville, maybe his Gran too. Your right Mi. This is practically a whole new part of the Wixen world I'm stepping into. Best to keep others thinking not much has changed for now.”  

“Also, when did you get so political” he said bumping her shoulder with his, and a wry grin on his face  

“Oh shush you” she said with an eyeroll “It just makes sense” she said with a shrug.  

The two found themselves back on the main street of Diagon a little while later. Making their way towards Olivander's wand shope once more, since it had been more than two hours since they’d left Harry's wand in the care of Olivander.  

Pushing the door open and stepping once more into the now familiar wand shop, the evoking scent of sawdust and the air that practically vibrated with magic. The two made their way to the counter, stacks of wand boxes still as always, towering up around them.  

“Welcome back to my humble shop, Lord Potter, Miss Granger.” Olivander intoned his raspy tone making them jump as he appeared from around a stack behind the counter.  

“Are you done with my Wand Lord Olivander?” Harry asked, excitement barely hidden in his voice, eager to be reunited.  

“I am indeed Harry” Olivander replied with a smile, “I am proud of every wand I have ever crafted, this one, I am proud to say that I have crafted twice.” He said producing a long thin wooden box from the flap of his over robe and carefully laying it down on the countertop in front of Harry.  

Harry shooting a look up to Olivander and towards Hermione who stood next to him at the counter, she responded with an excited grin of her own.  

Reaching out towards the latch on the wooden box in front of him he immediately felt a response, a calling, a beckoning, a desire from within the box. With a sharp crack the latch on the box flew open of its own accord. Looking up to Olivander, Harry saw that the wandmaker’s gaze was unblinkingly fixed upon the event that was unfolding in front of him, Eyes aglow with interest and curiosity.  

Harry reached out and lifted the lid, revealing his wand remade. Laying on a cushion of golden silk, and he drank in the sight. He hadn’t realised just how strange it had felt to be walking around the wixen world without his wand. He’d always carried his wand, for the last two years he’d never been without it if he could help it. Even after the dissonance had set in after the chamber. The past two hours that he’d been walking without it had felt wrong.  

But now with its alterations, to harry it was a sight to behold. The shaft of the wand was the familiar honey brown that he was familiar with. But the handle the handle was now crafted from the sleek Blackthorne wood, a deep and rich dark hue. No decoration or carving save the intricate patterns of the knots and gnarls running through the grain. There was a slim silver band at the shoulder where the Blackthorne handle transitioned into neatly into the Holly. It was such a little touch but all the same he loved it. It simply seemed understated and elegant.  

Reaching out with his hand he went to gingerly pick it up from the case, but when his hand got close enough, the wand leapt from the cushion and into his hand. His fingers clasping softly but firmly around the handle as he turned his wrist, so the tip faced the sky.  

As soon as the wand had touched his skin Harry felt a subtle shift in the air around him, like the opening notes to a symphony before a performance. The familiar weight of the wand was just like he remembered. But the dissonance, the dissonance was gone. Now the familiar connection he’d become used to and that he’d missed dearly clicked back into place. But there was more now, a deeper connection that seemed to thrum beneath his fingertips down his arm and directly to his core.