Random idea, just ran with it, hope you like it.

Harry Potter was a very sad little boy. It had nothing to do with his disposition; he was actually quite sweet, if a little shy. The simple fact was he had very little in his life to make him happy, and quite a lot to make him utterly miserable.

Harry lived with the Dursley family, his aunt, uncle, and cousin, in a cookie-cutter suburban house at 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. His family did not love him. If anything, they loathed him.

His Aunt Petunia seemed to hate him for always reminding her of her no-good sister. She forced him to do the cooking, the cleaning, the washing, the gardening, and any other chore she could think of. This freed her up to watch her programs, spy on the neighbors, and gossip with the other ladies of the neighborhood, while also punishing Harry for having the nerve to be born.

Harry's Uncle Vernon was even worse. He was a short-tempered man whom had always resented Harry's presence in his house. Not only did Harry come from "a bad lot" (the Dursleys told Harry his parents were drunks that died in a car crash that was their own damn fault), but Vernon did not appreciate having another mouth to feed, another body to clothe, another person breathing his air. It wasn't like the Dursleys couldn't afford Harry (in fact, they went to great lengths to avoid spending any money on him at all), but every pence "wasted" on Harry was a pence that could have gone to pampering Vernon's wife or spoiling his son. Vernon blamed almost everything wrong in his life on Harry, and enjoyed thinking up elaborate, occasionally corporal punishments for every imagined slight. He never called Harry by name, just "Boy" or sometimes "Potter" if Vernon was particularly angry.

Dudley was simply a mean kid for whom his cousin was alternatively his favorite victim and favorite patsy. There was nothing Dudley liked more than chasing Harry around, beating him if and when Dudley caught him, and then pining a broken toy or bad grade on Harry to his parents. Dudley also delighted in scaring off any friends Harry might make at school, ensuring he was always at home for Dudley's convenience.

All in all, Harry had a hard life. One could easily forgive him for turning out as angry and bitter as his "family", but he didn't. He remained a kind, polite (if somewhat cheeky) little person. Like Cinderella, he endured abuse and toil with patience and hope, waiting for the day that things would get better.

And like Cinderella, he would receive help from a rather unexpected source.

It was the evening of Harry's 10th birthday. He hadn't gotten a party or a cake or even a "Happy Birthday." All he had received was a pair of Vernon's socks, and Harry wasn't sure they were meant as a gift or if his uncle just wanted them darned. Not that he had expected any attention anyway; when they weren't using him in some way, the Dursleys preferred to ignore Harry. He sat in the cupboard under the stairs, his "room" for as long as he could remember. Heaven forbid Harry dirty up the nice, clean guest room, or Dudley not have two whole rooms for all his stuff.

Harry was listening to the telly through the cupboard door. It was safer to deal with the muffling than sit in the living room and risk the Dursleys punishing him for having fun. Dudley had gone to his room (which had its own TV set), and Vernon was watching the news. Harry liked the news. It was nice to know there was a world out there beyond Privet Drive. The weatherman was also funny.

Out of nowhere, there was a puff of smoke, smack dab in the middle of the cupboard. Harry coughed, as much from surprise as the lungful of smoky air. Harry was just starting to worry there might be a fire when the smoke vanished as quickly as it appeared, disappearing far faster than it should have naturally. Harry blinked and realized, in the dim light of the hanging light bulb, that he was no longer alone.

The other person was very odd-looking. For one thing, he was only a foot tall. He appeared mostly like a human adult, just shrunk down to doll-like proportions. For another, he was floating in mid-air. A pair of butterfly wings were attached to his back, though they did not seem to flap in order to keep the little man off the ground. Even if he'd been wingless and normal-sized, he still would have been the strangest person Harry had ever seen. His hair, eyebrows, and even his eyelashes were a shade of blue Harry had only ever seen in candy floss. He wore an eye-searing tye-dye t-shirt, jeans with holes at the knees, and what looked like rubber slippers. In his hand he carried a black wand with a golden star at the end, and above his head floated a crown.

"Hi, Harry!" the little man spoke. He had a bright, cheerful voice that would not have seemed out of place on a cartoon snowman. "I'm Gadzooks! And I'm… your fairy godparent!" Balloons and confetti fell down from the ceiling, while the sound of a brass band filled the air. Gadzooks struck a pose, eager eyes watching for his new godchild's reaction.

Harry froze in place. Ignoring the impossible thing in front of him, he strained his ears. There was no way the Dursleys hadn't heard all that noise. The boy waited for the sound of Vernon's shouts and pounding footsteps. But there was nothing. Just the sound of the evening news.

Gadzooks realized the problem. "Oh, I'm sorry, are you worried about the Dursleys? Don't be, they can't hear us. I made sure!"

Harry focused on the floating midget. "How?"

"Magic, silly!"

"You have magic?" Harry's eyes were wide. The Dursleys were very dull people that didn't approve of imagination. Dudley was allowed his video games, but otherwise there was no fiction or fantasy material in the house. Coming face to face with a magical creature was beyond Harry's wildest dreams.

"Of course I have magic! I'm… your fairy godparent!" Another round of confetti burst into existence. The invisible band played a different fanfare, while tiny fireworks went off in the air behind Gadzooks.

Harry picked a piece of colored paper off his glasses. "What's a fairy godparent?" He was amazed, sure, but he was like a dog with a bone when it came to getting answers.

Gadzooks seemed a bit put out. "Wow, tough cupboard." He waved his wand, and all the decorations vanished. "It's like this, guv'nor. You're a very good kid living in a very bad home. The Fairy Council decided that you deserved a super special birthday present! So they picked me to be… your fairy godparent!" Gadzooks threw up a handful of glitter, which vanished before it hit the floor.

Harry, remembering his manners, gave hurried applause. Gadzooks grinned ear to ear.

"Um… what exactly does a fairy godparent do?"

"I grant wishes! Your wishes, actually."

"Like a genie?"

"Hah! Those poseurs? Those guys only give you three, and they try to trick you and twist your wish the whole time. Fairy godparents grant every wish their godchild makes, exactly how he or she meant it! Well, as long as it doesn't break Da Rulez."

"Da Rulez?"

Gadzooks waved his wand again. A huge purple tome as thick as the fairy was tall popped into being. "These are Da Rulez! It looks like a lot, but it all boils down to five big points. 1. Don't permanently harm anyone. 2. Don't cheat in a contest. 3. Don't mess with Death, that guy's SCARY. 4. Don't make anyone fall in or out of love. And 5. Don't reveal the secret of fairy godparents." The book vanished. "Of course, there are a lot of technicalities, loopholes, provisos and such, but those are the basics."

"What happens if a wish breaks a rule?" Harry asked, a tad worried. He knew the Dursleys HATED when a rule was broken.

Gadzooks smiled gently. "Then I don't grant the wish. At least, for the first four. If you let anyone know about me or fairy godparents in general, though, you'll forget you ever met me and all your wishes will be undone."

"Okay," Harry acknowledged solemnly. "But other than that, any wish I make, you'll grant?"

"Yep! Just say the magic words and I give the ol' wand a whirl."

Harry took a deep breath, like a diver before the plunge. "I wish I had a steak, please." Harry had spent the afternoon preparing and cooking three fillets and fixings for his relatives, while he'd only been allowed the vegetables Vernon and Dudley didn't want. He'd almost drooled at the table.

Gadzooks almost cried. Poor baby! "Coming right up, Harry." A swish, and in Harry's lap was a tray, upon which was cutlery and a plate with a bacon-wrapped filet mignon, mushrooms and a dab of butter on top, cooked exactly how Harry would like it. A glass of water, milk, and cola were provided as well.

Harry lit up like a Christmas tree. "Thank you, Gadzooks!" Harry spent the next ten minutes savoring every bite and sip. Gadzooks just watched the latest in the string of neglected, battered young souls it was his privilege to reward. Harry was a small boy, more due to borderline starvation than genes. He had messy black hair, dazzling green eyes, and a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. He'd have to bring up the soul shard attached to his charge at some point. Not tonight though. No need to overwhelm the boy.

When Harry finished, Gadzooks vanished the dishes. Harry started to bounce in place. It wasn't just the sugar and caffeine; Harry felt a bubbling excitement as the situation set in. He had a fairy godparent! He could make wishes and they'd come true! Harry couldn't decide where to start.

"I wish the cupboard was a proper bedroom, please."

Poof! The cupboard transformed to the size of the master bedroom, complete with bed, dresser, closet, and bathroom. The bulb turned into four inset lights, the walls were painted Harry's favorite color, and a rug covered the hardwood floor. The ceiling was still slanted, but it was otherwise unrecognizable.

Harry, being a seriously deprived child, immediately chose to break in the bed by jumping on it. Once its bounciness had been thoroughly tested, Harry took off his horrible glasses.

"I wish I had perfect health, including vision and teeth, please!"

Gadzooks did his thing. Harry felt a tingling all over his body. He blinked, and when he opened his eyes he could SEE. Colors jumped out, little details were clear from a distance, and there wasn't an annoying rim to his field of view! Harry jumped to the floor, landing a bit sooner than he expected. A quick inspection revealed that Harry was a couple inches taller, and much more filled out than his former skin-and-bones frame. Dudley's secondhand clothes actually fit him, though to be fair they were two years old and his cousin hadn't REALLY started to balloon until last year. Speaking of ill-fitting clothes…

"I wish I had my own clothes, please."

"You don't have to keep saying 'please', Harry," Gadzooks said, waving his wand in a practiced motion.

"But it'd be rude not to," Harry protested, even as he checked the dresser and closet. He found a large collection of clothing and accessories, all to his taste and presumably his new size. Why anyone would need five pairs of shoes, Harry didn't know, but he wouldn't complain about his godparent's generosity.

"Alright, Harry, say what you want," the fairy all but cooed. His godson was adorable!

Harry had an idea. A crazy, potentially wonderful idea. "Gadzooks? Do wishes work on people? I mean, can you change personalities?"

"As long as it doesn't violate the Big Five, sure. I mean, I could never make someone do something they'd never, ever do. But you'd be amazed at the things your average person could do given the right motivation. So, I would say the base 10% of a person is untouchable, but the rest is for me to play with. Why?"

"I wish everyone on Earth was the nicest, happiest, best versions of themselves! Pretty please!" Harry's face was glowing with anticipation.

Gadzooks winced. "Sorry, guv'nor. That's against Da Rulez. There's a whole section in there on World Peace wishes. It's too big a risk. There's no way I could zap every single person AND alter their memories to not question the shift. Even magic has limits, Harry."

"Oh. I didn't think about the secret. Sorry." Harry was a bit down. So much for his plan to fix the world.

"No worries, Harry. You're new at this. You'll figure it out with time."

"Can I wish the Dursleys better, at least?"

"That, I can do."

"I wish Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley were as good as they could be, please. Oh, and Marge as well. Oh, oh, and I wish no one would question the changes in them or myself too."

"One negativity purge of the family tree, coming right up!"

Gadzooks raised his wand above his head, the star shining like a tiny sun. There was another puff of magic smoke, and then all was normal.

"Did it work?"

Gadzooks grinned and then vanished. Harry noticed a plush toy appearing on his bed just as there was a knock on the door.

"Harry?" his Aunt Petunia called, sticking her head in the room. Harry almost didn't recognize her. Her face hadn't changed, but she was smiling at him. Not the fake smile she used at parties; a genuine, loving smile she reserved just for Dudley. "Do you need me to tuck you in?"

Of all the magical displays Gadzooks had given, Harry found this to be the most unbelievable. Feeling like he were in a dream, Harry answered "No, thank you, Aunt Petunia."

"Alright, dear. Bedtime in ten minutes."

Vernon stomped past the door. "Good night, Harry!" he called without a trace of sarcasm.

"Good night, Uncle Vernon."

Harry's newly-enhanced hearing picked up the two talking as they walked up the stairs.

"You know, darling, you could do with losing a few pounds. It scares me when you get all red and out of breath."

"Can't argue there, my pet. We'll turn Dudley's second bedroom into a gym. We'll have a garage sale to clear it out, get our money's worth. Might even bring the boys into it, teach 'em how to take care of themselves."

"I'll look for cookbooks. There's got to be someone that figured out how to make thin taste good."

Harry couldn't believe his ears. He came to a realization.

"I LOVE magic."

The next day was surreal. Aunt Petunia woke him up gently. Vernon didn't berate him once over breakfast. Dudley was FRIENDLY, talking to him and offering to share his things. Harry had help doing the chores, for Heaven's sake!

"What did you do to them?" Harry asked Gadzooks, currently disguised as a fake pair of glasses.

"The long answer involves a lot of legilimancy, thaumaturgy, and brain chemistry. The short answer is everyone has two voices in their head, one suggesting right and the other suggesting wrong. I just turned the 'bad' voice low as I could and cranked the 'good' voice as high as it went. The rest is up to them."

Harry could hardly believe his luck. "Thank you so much, Gadzooks. This has been the best day of my life."

"Just doing my job, Harry. And I love my work. I'm happy I could help."

"You won't ever leave, right? We get to be friends and make wishes forever, don't we?"

Gadzooks felt his heart break a little. He HATED this conversation. "I'm afraid not, Harry."

"What? Why?" Harry demanded, terrified of losing his first friend.

Gadzooks appeared before his godson. "I'm a fairy godparent, Harry. I give abused and mistreated children everything they ever dreamed of. I help them build confidence, get positive experiences, make up for the sucky hand life dealt them. And it always ends one of two ways. Either they get careless and reveal the secret, or they learn to stand on their own two feet." Gadzooks gave a teary smile. "There aren't that many fairy godparents, Harry. But there are so many kids that deserve one. I can't stay with you if another childe out there needs me more."

Harry sniffed, but he put on a brave face. "I get it. I can't keep you all to myself. It's just… I don't want to lose you."

Gadzooks kissed his godchild's brow and gave him a hug. "Don't worry, Harry. We've only been together a day. You'll need me for a while yet."

"But you'll leave. One day. And you'll take the magic with you."

"Oh, Harry, did they not tell you? You're a wizard. You had magic long before I showed up."

"What?!"

"You're a wizard, Harry. A human boy capable of magic. Your mother and father were magical, too. They were killed by an evil man during a war. I'm sorry the Dursleys hid this from you…"

Harry barely heard Gadzooks. After a second, he wasn't surprised at all that his relatives had lied to him. Besides, being a wizard explained SO MUCH about their behavior and the weird things that happened around him. His mind raced over quite another thought. Harry could do magic. Magic was AMAZING. Harry didn't know magic. Gadzooks did.

"Gadzooks," Harry stated, a mad gleam in his eye. "I wish for you to teach me everything you know about magic."

Gadzooks froze. "Harry Potter… I do believe you just beat out Timmy Turner for 'Most Interesting Wish of All Time'."

"Is that good or bad?"

"We'll see, Harry. We'll see."

The next year was the happiest of Harry's life. Harry quite enjoyed his new relationships with his family. The fact he'd essentially ordered them to be magically brainwashed didn't bother him in the slightest. To go from some of the nastiest people in Britain to the cheeriest wasn't just a miracle, it was a public service!

Uncle Vernon and he would never be the closest. Harry could never entirely forget how the man had tormented him, and Vernon just couldn't bring himself to love anyone that wasn't his blood. Still, they were quite cordial. They were perfectly polite to each other, Harry felt confident asking Vernon for help with something, and the head of the Dursley clan invited Harry along to his and Dudley's workouts and father-son outings.

Dudley was transformed. There was a rough patch at the start when diet and exercise was forced on him while expensive gifts fell by the wayside. But he adapted, learned discipline and self-control, and was all the better for it. Harry and he bonded a great deal, becoming close as brothers. Harry was amazed to discover Dudley was almost as shy and awkward as Harry himself, only that he'd covered it up with brashness. He really had been a good egg from the start, just molded and twisted by his parents' bad example. Between the two of them and a much more supportive Vernon and Petunia, Dudley went from school bully to school star. His grades would never be the best, but he had a great circle of friends rather than minions, and his athletic performance improved by the day.

Aunt Petunia became the mom Harry always wanted. Every drop of maternal care and doting smothering she'd showered on Dudley was now shared with him, complete with embarrassing nicknames. The two often bonded while taking care of the house, doing daily chores with the excitement and energy of children at play. If anyone had ever told Harry he'd look forward to polishing the furniture, he'd have thought them stark raving mad. A combination of Gadzooks' magic and time led to her overcoming her envy and resentment of Lily. She opened up to Harry about her heritage, letting him know all kinds of stories about his birth mother and the magic she performed.

Harry's favorite person, though, remained his fairy godparent/teacher, Gadzooks. He had all the wisdom of a sage and yet the excitability of a toddler. He had such an exotic take on the world, perhaps because he was one of the few that could see it from the outside. Fairies had their own realm called Fairy World, reached by a rainbow bridge, where they were born, learned, and lived when not on assignment. Gadzooks had considered one of the major milestones in Harry's magical education poofing to Fairy World unassisted.

Speaking of which, the lessons were wonderful fun. There was not a single thing about magic Harry didn't find fascinating, and he applied himself ten times harder to Gadzooks' lessons than his schoolwork. For the record, he got straight A's once he didn't have to worry about outshining Dudley.

Harry learned early on that comparing Fairy magic and human magic was similar to comparing quantum physics to arithmetic. Of course, fairies had the advantage of being conscious concentrations of pure magic, whereas humans just had a little spark hidden inside all the flesh and blood. It was a case of the blind men and the elephant; fairies just KNEW while humans had to work out little bits and bobs through trial and error and piece it all together. But with Gadzooks as his guide, Harry learned the secrets of wielding his gift, slowly but surely becoming as intuitive and knowledgeable as any fairy godparent.

The Dursley family took Harry's supernatural powers in stride, treating it as a great family secret. It made Vernon uncomfortable at times, but Petunia took it all with a nostalgic smile, and Dudley thought having a wizard in the family was the coolest thing EVER! Especially after Harry enchanted his army men to walk, talk, and wage war for Dudley's entertainment.

Of course, Harry had to pass it off as all natural talent. Gadzooks had to assure him many times that keeping the secret was good lying.

Dudley's 11th birthday dawned clear and sunny. Harry rolled out of bed bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, the result of a wish to always be wide awake when sleep ended. "Morning, Gadzooks!"

"Goooood morning, Harry!" his godparent replied, poofing out of plush form.

Harry tapped the top of a model skull. "Morning, Tom."

Two pinpricks of ruby red light appeared in the eye sockets.

"And what, pray tell, is so good about it?"

Harry had been working on his soulscape when he'd found Tom. He'd appeared to be a bloody, filthy little baby curled into a ball on the 'floor'. Harry was quite curious about this thing lying around his soul, and used his best Mind and Scrying magic to divine who and what it was.

The information he'd gotten had made him vomit.

Lord Voldemort had been an extremely sick, angry, broken man.

Harry was at first horrified to find a chunk of his parents' murderer's soul attached to his own. He'd very nearly destroyed Tom then and there. But he couldn't bring himself to kill something so helpless. Besides, as the Dursley's example showed, ANYONE could be redeemed, given the right circumstances. Instead, he'd had Gadzooks transfer the Horcrux (technical term for a soul shard anchored to an object not its original body) to the skull. Harry's head was his own, thank you very much.

Though he kept a copy of all Tom's knowledge to go through later. It's only stealing if you get caught, right?

Harry had used time, care, and his own magic to restore the damaged splinter of Tom's soul to a sane, whole being. Tom had rebelled at first, furious at being 'held captive' by a 'bloody prophesied brat', but he had very little magical capacity as an animate skull. What's more, even if he'd had his own body and wand, his power would have paled in comparison to Harry's.

He was a VERY diligent student.

Harry had opted not to do a negativity purge on Tom as Gadzooks had done with the Dursleys. For some reason, he wanted Tom to get better all on his own. It felt important that Harry save him from himself the old-fashioned way. So Harry talked at, to, and with Tom, sharing his day and offering an ear, trying to give the undead man the one thing he'd never had: a friend.

Progress was slow, but it was there. Tom now considered Harry a reluctant companion rather than a jailor he wanted to kill as slowly and painfully as possible. Harry had hopes for the future, and one day planned to reunite Tom with the other fractions of his soul (really, what HAD he been thinking?) and resurrecting him as a force for good rather than evil.

Gadzooks kindly encouraged Harry to keep these thoughts to himself. Others in the know would find bringing back a Dark Lord to be… polarizing.

Harry smiled at Tom. "Today is Dudley's birthday. We get to go to the zoo and see all the animals. There's even a reptile house, so you can talk to all the snakes. Doesn't that sound like a good day?"

"If it does, then it is only by comparison to another day stuck in the purgatory that is this house."

Harry grinned. That was Tom's way of saying 'yes'.

Harry dressed in running clothes, before going outside. He warmed up, waiting for his uncle and cousin. They both emerged, looking a bit more groggy than Harry. The Dursley men were a tad broader around the shoulders and quite a bit narrower about the waist than this time last year. Petunia enforced strict portion control and Harry (voluntarily) cooked tasty, nutritious meals. Combined with five workouts a week, all three of them had lost all excess fat and built lean muscle. Harry and Dudley naturally didn't go as hard as Vernon did, but the boys still found themselves starting to admire themselves in the bathroom mirror.

They wordlessly jogged around the neighborhood a few times after wishing Dudley a happy birthday. Back at the house, they trudged up to the gym for aerobics, calisthenics, and mild weight work. That done, they all retreated to their own shower, the smell of breakfast motivating them to get clean fast.

The kitchen and living room were festooned with homemade signs and streamers, a full English Breakfast complete with whole-wheat pancakes laid out. Petunia greeted them all with a hug and kiss. Dudley half-heartedly whined "Mum,", Harry enjoyed the novelty that still hadn't worn off, and Vernon took a couple 'liberties' with the kiss. That was the one side-effect not even Gadzooks had seen coming. Sure, they were married, but a surge in positivity had led to Vernon and Petunia being much more obviously 'in love'. The youngsters found it both sweet and sickening to varying degrees. Vernon no longer resembling a walrus certainly helped.

Breakfast was devoured swiftly, and Dudley fell on the presents with glee. He got a pair of boxing gloves from Harry, who figured he should put his old love of punching to good use. Vernon got Dudley a football, rugby ball, and cricket set, as well as several computer games. Dudley thanked his mum for the clothes and books, only 30% faking.

The final box was rather large. When Dudley eagerly opened it, a bunch of blue and pink balloons popped out. The only other contents were a grainy black photograph.

"What's this?" Dudley asked, holding it up. Harry's jaw dropped. He actually paid attention in Health.

"This is really more of a Christmas present, dear. Your father and I just thought we should tell you today." Petunia beamed and clutched Vernon's hand. "You're going to be a big brother!"

It took a bit for Dudley to understand, but then he was over the moon. He babbled excitedly about having a baby brother or sister, squinting at the sonogram picture in his hand. Vernon smiled proudly while Petunia laid a hand on her abdomen, which had a bulge you'd easily miss if you weren't looking. Harry made his congratulations, happy to see his family happy.

Now they knew what Vernon and Petunia did when they had Mrs. Figg look after them.

In short order, a gaggle of Dudley's friends arrived. Harry grabbed Tom, stuck him to his shoulder and cloaked him with magic, and filed into one of the two cars driving everyone. Harry enjoyed the experience, chatting amiably with the other kids but mostly focusing on the animals. He and Tom perked up when they made it to the Reptile House. Harry lagged behind the group, letting his dour friend enjoy conversation with his favorite creatures. Tom just loved snakes.

They reached a boa constrictor that was easily the biggest snake in the room.

*Hello, glorious serpent.* Tom hissed. He had a very cultured, even melodramatic way of speaking.

*Someone there?* the great snake lifted its head.

*Hello. That was my friend Tom. He's invisible right now. I'm Harry!* Harry greeted.

*Huh. Two humans that can actually speak, one of them camouflaged. This is the most excitement I've had all year. Pleased to meet you, Tom and Harry.*

*You honor us.*

*Nice to meet you too!*

They exchanged words. It became clear that Diablo, as he called himself, was very sad. He hated being stuck in a zoo, day after day, people sticking their faces at his cage. Tom solemnly agreed it sounded quite lonely. Harry, not wanting to see either sad, used magic to set off the sprinklers. In the confusion, he silently poofed the three of them to Brazil.

*What happened?* Diablo hissed, looking at his new surroundings in disbelief.

*I took us to Brazil. You'll be much more at home here.* Harry bounced on his feet, knowing he had seconds before his absence was noted. *If you ever need me, say my name three times fast. Bye, amigo!* With that, Harry vanished.

Tom was in a contemplative mood back at the house.

"Why did you do that for the snake?"

"It was the right thing to do."

"How did you know?"

"It felt right. That's really all I can say."

"It belonged to the zoo. That's stealing, a crime."

"First off, he's a he, not an it. Second, the whole point of zoos is conservation and welfare of animals. Diablo will be much happier and more likely to make little hatchlings in the wild. And third, right and wrong doesn't run parallel to legal and illegal. I'm fine breaking rules or even laws if it does more good than harm."

"That's exactly what I used to think," Tom said faintly.

"Yes, but in my defense, I haven't ever ritualistically sundered the metaphysical heart of my being and compromised my sanity in a misguided bid for immortality." Harry drawled blandly. He never wasted an opportunity to point out to Tom just how stupid he had been.

"I was only sixteen. Plenty of people make reckless decisions at sixteen." The eyes glowed brighter in a way quite like a blush. "Anyway, what if the snake gets killed out there? Is it still the right thing?"

"I think both Diablo and I would agree that a brief life of happiness is better than a long life of sadness." Harry patted the skull's crown. "There ARE things worse than death, Tom. You'll realize that, one day."

"Please. I humor your delusions, but kindly do not foist them on me."

"I should make you watch Sophie's Choice."

"Um, Harry?"

Harry looked up at Gadzooks. He took one look at the fairy's expression and felt his heart sink.

"It's time, isn't it?"

"Sorry, guv'nor. I've got nothing left to teach you. You may want me, but you no longer need me."

"I know." Harry was resigned. He'd known it was coming. Didn't make it hurt any less. "Take good care of the next one. They must be something special, if they got you."

"Will do. And remember, you can write to me in Fairy World."

There was a moment of awkward tension.

Harry hugged Gadzooks close to his heart. His shirt got a little wet. Then he let go, and with a poof his godparent was gone.

Harry was in a slump for a week. Even the last day of school and the start of summer break couldn't lighten his mood. His family tried their best to cheer him up. Petunia consulted him on how to paint the nursery (the gym was to be moved to the garage). Vernon offered to take Harry to the playground. Dudley innocently asked if they could go inside a storybook or back in time or something. Harry brightened when he spent time with them, but sank back into depression afterwards. He missed his first and best friend.

Tom ended up being the one to snap Harry out of it. The fragment of a wizard had not been gentle. He gave a scathing diatribe about how foolish Harry was being, how he was acting like a spoiled child, and how disrespectful he was being to Gadzooks. Ironically, the harsh words made Harry feel better. He'd agreed with each of Tom's points and set out to behave in a manner his godparent would be proud of. It was hard to tell whether Tom was pleased or put out at the result.

A month passed, 4 Privet Drive slipping back into suburban bliss. Petunia busied herself preparing for the baby. Vernon happily helped Dudley learn to box, pleased as punch his son was interested in 'the sport of MEN'. And Harry split his time between reading, practicing magic, and rehabilitating Tom.

It was a week before Harry's birthday, and the family was having breakfast. They heard the mail flap clatter, and a few seconds later the mail floated in, placing itself next to its intended recipient.

"Thank you, Harry," Vernon said, no longer even blinking at this mild bit of hocus pocus. "Oh, Marge is ill. Ate a funny whelk."

"At least she has the Colonel to look after her," Petunia said, leafing through her magazines.

Dudley had torn into a big, official-looking envelope. A packet fell out, along with a letter. Dudley read only the first line before whooping. "I got into CLS!"

His parents lit up and congratulated their son. The City of London School was a prestigious school on the Thames for boys 11 and up. Vernon had originally intended Dudley to attend his alma mater, Smelting's, but upon reflection realized the school encouraged 'bad habits'.

Harry didn't join in. His eyes were transfixed on the parchment in his hands.

Mr. Harry Potter

The Bedroom under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging, Surrey

Petunia gasped when she looked over. "Oh! Harry got his Hogwarts letter!"

"Hogwarts?" Dudley asked. "The wizard school? Does Harry even have to go? He's brilliant at magic already!"

"My mum and dad went there," Harry spoke up, turning it over. His finger traced the wax seal. "I want to go, see where they met, make friends with other magical kids. Besides, it might be fun to learn the normal way to do magic, with a wand and everything. I mean, assuming I got in."

Vernon couldn't resist a scoff at the word 'normal' applied to witchcraft. "Well, we'll never know if you don't open it."

As Harry opened the envelope, Tom made his own comments, floating invisibly beside Harry as always. "Not get in, pah. Your parents were Head Boy and Girl of their year. You were on the roll before they finished tying off your umbilical cord."

Harry scaned his acceptance letter and supply list that came out. "Well, I'm in. And the Headmaster has a great many titles."

"We'll have to go to Diagon Alley for your supplies," Petunia said, eyes lost in memory. "It's the wizard shopping district in London. Come to think of it, Harry, you probably should go visit Gringotts bank anyway. I've no idea what happened with your parents' finances, and I remember your father saying he came from old money."

Vernon perked up. "Well, if we're visiting a bank, I'm coming along. I don't want them messing about with my nephew's inheritance. I'll do the talking. I deal with bankers all the time."

"Vernon… the bank is run by goblins," Petunia said gently.

"If they count change for a living, then they're bankers. And I know bankers!" Vernon looked a bit pale though.

"I'm coming too!" Dudley invited himself. "I want to see the magic side of Britain! Besides, Aunt Lily was… Muggleborn, that's the word, right? So the baby or my kids might be too. I should come along so I know where to go!"

"Well, looks like we're having a family outing today!" Petunia proclaimed.

After cleaning up and getting ready, the Dursleys and Harry got in the car and drove for London. Petunia, with her gossip-honed memory, directed her husband to a lot and led them a couple blocks to a dingy pub. None of the other people on the street seemed to know it was there.

"This is the Leaky Cauldron. It's protected so Muggles can't see it unless they already know it's here. The entrance to the Alley is in the back."

"So you have to go through the pub before you can get any shopping done? The owner must make a mint," Vernon thought aloud.

Harry brushed his fringe over his forehead. Gadzooks didn't exactly keep in touch with human wizards, but Harry's file had noted he was famous for the scar where Voldemort's Killing Curse had reflected. The scar had faded to white after Tom was removed, but Harry didn't want to take chances.

They walked in and took a second to just absorb the incredible sight. Petunia was struck by how identical the place was to when she was a little girl accompanying Lily. Vernon did his best not to sneer at the ridiculous fashions. Dudley's eyes honed in on every casual use of magic such as self-cleaning tables and drinks that gave off sparks. Harry, with his senses entwined with fairy magic, noted the auras and constructs of the room. To Harry, magic wasn't just a tingle at the back of his neck. It was color to be admired, textures to be felt, music to be sampled, a bouquet to be savored, even morsels to be tasted. The Leakey Cauldron was filled to the brim with magic of a very different kind than he was used to, but no less wonderful or beautiful.

A bartender with a head bald and wrinkled as a walnut leaned toward them. "Muggleborn?" he asked, not unkindly.

"Of a sort," Petunia said, unconsciously resting a hand on her bump. "My sister was and when she died in the war my nephew came to live with us. He got his Hogwarts letter this morning."

"I see. My condolences. Well, Alley's through the back. Do you remember the sequence?"

"Yes, yes. Thank you." Nervous despite herself, Petunia led them to the back alley. She looked from the brick wall to Harry. "Harrikins, I don't suppose you could take over here?"

"No problem, Auntie." So saying, Harry tapped the bricks above the trash bin that glowed to his sight. The bricks of the wall rearranged themselves, creating an archway that led to the single most fantastic street in London.

"Blimey!"

"Cor!"

"It's beautiful!"

Petunia grinned at her boys. "Welcome, all, to Diagon Alley."

They walked forward in a daze, flummoxed by the shops and the people shopping them. They passed a broomshop with flying broomsticks, an apothecary with a bubbling cauldron in the sign, and a menagerie with animals in the storefront straight out of a storybook. Petunia led them all like a mother duck, stopping in front of the white marble edifice of Gringotts.

"Ah! The lines are a bit wonky, but this is a top-notch bank if ever I saw one," Vernon declared.

"Thank you, sir," one of the goblin guards grumbled, making Vernon jump.

They stepped through both sets of double doors, taking time to read the Goblins' warning, and then stepped into an immaculate atrium. Except for the size and faces of the tellers, it looked exactly how they'd always imagined a Victorian bank. Harry noted the distinct shift In energies as they crossed the threshold. Goblin magic differed greatly from wizard magic. More robust if less versatile, in earthen tones and deep octaves.

They waited patiently in the busy line, other families having gotten their Hogwarts letters that morning as well. They finally came up to a desk taller than Aunt Petunia, manned by a white-haired goblin. It deliberately ignored them while it finished signing something before leering down at them. "What do you want?" he barked.

Vernon assumed the confident persona that had seen him make Vice President at Grunning's. "Vernon Dursley here, escorting my nephew, Harry Potter. We wish to speak to his account manager at earliest convenience."

The goblin narrowed its eyes down at Harry. "And does Mr. Harry Potter have his key?"

Harry silently reached into his pocket and wished for his bank key. He noted how his fairy-like magic wove around the Goblin wards like they weren't even there. He handed the small gold locking device to his uncle, who put it on the teller's desk.

The gobin regarded the key with a raised brow. *I'll be damned. It's real,* he muttered in Goblin. Harry was very grateful to Gadzooks for granting his wish to know every language. He'd had a headache like nobody's business for a few hours, but it'd been worth it. The teller cleared his throat and barked a few orders behind his desk. "Follow Griphook. He will take you to the Potter Account Manager. Next!"

Vernon barely had time to take back the key and hand it to Harry when another goblin, this one with black hair but the same wrinkled features, appeared from behind the desk. "Follow, please." With no more than that, the diminutive creature took off at a surprising pace, Harry and the Dursleys following belatedly behind. They followed Griphook through a marble labyrinth of hallways until they arrived at a door labeled "Senior Accountant Razorteeth".

"Here you are. Just walk in, you're expected," Griphook said tersely. Goblins, as a species, didn't seem to have the patience for niceties.

"Thank you. For your troubles," Petunia told him, polite even in the face of rudeness, handing over a Silver Sickle an old witch had pressed into her hand with a smile at her bump. Griphook looked amazed to have received a tip. Maybe that wasn't a part of goblin culture? Harry added another subject to his ever-growing research list and followed his Uncle Vernon into his accountant's office.

The office was richly appointed, with a receiving area with human-sized chairs. A gobin sat at a mahogany desk scaled for his person, and looked up at them with a particularly sharp smile. "Mr. Potter, at last. We have much to discuss."

What followed was an hour of financial jargon that largely went over Harry's head. He let Vernon do most of the talking. Apparently his parents hadn't left a will, so all their assets had gone to him as their sole heir. His understanding, at the end, came down to three points. 1: he was rich. Like, 'could not piss it away if he tried' rich. 2: he had three vaults. His Trust Vault, refilled to 5000 Gold Galleons every birthday; his parent's vault, filled with their life savings and several personal possessions; and the Potter Family Vault, which he could only visit until he reached his majority at age 17, a quirk of Magical Britain.

Harry considered his options. "Mr. Razorteeth, I'd like to have the monetary contents of my parents' vault converted into British Pounds and transferred to my Uncle Vernon's account. I'd also like for all the items in storage to be transferred to 4 Privet Drive. Please deduct all expenses from my Trust Vault."

"Harry, dear, you don't have to…" Petunia protested, aware of just how much money Lily and James must have saved up.

"No, but I want to. Consider it a baby shower gift for my unborn cousin. Now, Mr. Razorteeth, does the wizarding world have the equivalent of a credit or debit card? I'd prefer not having to return to my vault every time I run out of gold," Harry stated confidently.

"Indeed we do, for a nominal fee, and the purchase includes a free moleskin pouch for when actual gold is called for. Shall I charge it to your Trust Vault?" Razorteeth asked with his sharp grin.

"Please do," Harry requested.

After collecting the account information from Vernon, Razorteeth vanished into a side room. He returned ten minutes later with a matte-gold card indistinguishable from a standard muggle c ard, except for the stylized "G" as the logo. He also had what looked like a hairy purse.

"If you would, Mr. Potter, place one drop of blood on the caard, it will bond to you and the transaction will be complete." Razorteeth offered a dagger.

Wondering if every goblin kept six-inch knives in their desk, Harry pricked his finger and touched the card.

There was a blinding flash of light and a thunderous boom.

Harry blinked and looked at the blackened rectangle seared into Razorteeth's desk. "Oh, bother."

"What the bloody hell was that?" Vernon demanded, arms wrapped around his wife and son.

Razorteeth looked gobsmacked. "I… I really don't know. That's never happened before."

"Terribly sorry, everyone. I forgot how potent my blood can be," Harry spoke up. "Remember when I pricked my finger on the rosebush and overnight it took over the back yard?"

"Oh yes, that was exciting," Petunia said faintly.

"I still don't think we had to kill it," Dudley said sullenly.

"Son, it was talking about conquering the street and establishing the Rose Kingdom."

"Since when did saying something get you the death penalty? What about free speech, Dad?"

"The ROSEBUSH was TALKING."

"My apologies, Mr. Razorteeth." Harry waved his hand, cleaning the scorch marks and conjuring another card identical to the last. This time, Harry purposefully desaturated the magic from his finger before he tapped the card. It glowed alarmingly bright, but the glow faded and the blood had vanished. "There. No harm done."

"How did you do that?" Razorteeth gaped. "You don't have a wand. This office is warded." The goblin stared at the card. "By Ragnok, it has goblin magic on it."

Harry shrugged. "I started experimenting with magic a year ago. If I break the rules, it's only because I don't know them. I just copied the original."

Razorteeth reached up to adjust his collar. "Mr. Potter… I would very much appreciate it if we could meet again soon to discuss your talents. I strongly suspect Gringotts could make use of them."

"Like a summer job?"

"Sure. Let's call it that. If that is all, I believe our business is done here."

Harry pocketed the card and bag. Harry ushered his family out. As he was shutting the door, he heard Razorteeth mutter in Goblin *What manner of creature is that boy?*

Unable to resist, Harry stuck his head in. *I'm Harry. I"m a fairly odd child.* Then he shut the door.

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