The Leaky Cauldron, July 31, 1991...
Minerva McGonagall was nervous.
Maybe that wasn't the right word. Too broad of a statement. Hogwarts letters had been sent out about a week and a half ago, and the only the school had gotten responses from all of them indicating new students would be attending. What had been surprising had been a response from Harry Potter, of all people.
She had been sitting in the Headmaster's office, going over some administrative details pertaining to incoming students when a school owl had flown in, landing on a nearby perch. Minerva had untied a letter from the owl's leg and sent it on its way. Reading it, she had to go over it more than once. She then handed it over to Albus, who grew strangely quiet after reading it.
The letter had been short. It had indicated that the student was interested in attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but was currently out of the country and would have to make arrangements to return to England. The writer had asked for her, by name, to meet with him to take care of shopping for Hogwarts and anything else that came up.
It had been signed Hadrian James Potter.
The Potters had always held a special place in Minerva's heart. They had been a young couple, with too many years ahead of them. James had been one of her favorite students, and unusually talented in Transfiguration. He had the raw power to perform at Minerva's level, and she had taught him the intricacies of Battle Transfiguration. Lily, that was self explanatory. So determined and focused on her goals. Many of the old purebloods had disapproved of James and Lily's relationship. Mudblood had been one of the kinder words used. There had been many witches with ulterior motives who had tried to get their hooks into James Potter and the Potter fortune. They saw easy prey after the deaths of James's parents. James and Lily had had a combative relationship before that happened, but the vultures circling around was what finally got Lily and James together.
That...had not gone over well with Severus. If there was one thing Severus Snape respected, it was power. As a halfblood, he had to work harder to attain it, and especially in Slytherin. The man had worked hard to hide his personal history and blood ties. Many could see that he had been taken with Lily, despite her being a Muggleborn. She was quite powerful, and could do things with Charms that were a sight to see. Flitwick had apprenticed her for the last three years of her Hogwarts education and it had paid off immensely. Her dueling skills were also among the top five percent. But anyone could see that Severus was highly possessive and obsessive about things. Take Potions for example. That had turned Lily off, and destroyed whatever had been there, if anything had been there at all.
Albus had become quiet after reading the letter. There was also a strange look in his eye. Minerva knew the man. The wheels were turning. Something was brewing behind those damned blue eyes of his. Make no mistake, Minerva highly respected Albus. He had taught her many of the subtleties behind Transfiguration. He had largely inspired her to become a Transfigurations Mistress. Albus could do many things, make the impossible possible, at times.
But over the years...one had to be very careful with Albus. It had taken her a long time to learn that he was always planning something, moving five or six steps ahead of you, leading you into a pattern for his own benefit. Thank Merlin that 'his own benefit' was for the most part aligned with the benefit of all. If that were to ever change...
Minerva knew that Albus didn't like surprises. He didn't like disruptions. Harmony was at the center of everything he did. Voldemort's defeat at the hands of an infant had been disharmonious. Those few hours after the defeat, Albus had been all over the place, his brain on fire, trying to spin things. Sirius Black's arrest for betraying the Potters had been surprising, but Minerva supposed you never really knew some people. Being the lone rebel in a family aligned with the enemy could be quite a strain. But Albus's decision to place James and Lily Potter's child with muggles, and those muggles, of all people? It had been brought up that Harry was a powerful child. If there were any expressions of said power, muggles would not take to it well. Albus had smiled that damnable smile of his and insisted he had remedied the situation. Albus always insisted. He never ordered.
He worked that subtle knife like a master.
It had been little over a month when Albus had been thrown into another panic, and he and Minerva and Hagrid had come rushing to Privet Drive, in the middle of Nowhere, England, to see a hole in the ground where a house used to be. Three bodies had been brought out, the fat muggle and Lily's harridan of a sister, and a small child. Minerva slightly hated herself for saying this, but couldn't have happened to nicer people. She had suffered observing these muggles in their natural habitat, and she shuddered to think of James and Lily's legacy growing up like that. Albus hadn't really cared about the muggles, but Harry was gone. He had been quite put out by that. Then a few days later, Gringotts had sealed the Potter accounts from outside access and the keys, which Albus had for some reason, were destroyed. Albus undoubtedly had some sort of agenda where the boy was concerned, and Minerva was slightly happy to see the boy was out of it, somewhere, wherever he was. The Ministry had decided to wash their hands of it, since the last Potter was alive, somewhere and that was the extent of their concern.
Harry was out of whatever web Albus had spun, and good for him. Minerva generally tried to keep herself as far away from the center as possible. Being the focus of Albus Dumbledore's attention was a dangerous position to be in.
Albus had looked at her and said maybe it would be better to send Hagrid to meet with the boy. That stopped Minerva for a second. Hagrid? Bloody Hagrid, of all people?
Minerva had been offended, but hid it well. She had learned Occlumency years ago, a necessity when dealing with Albus. He had never mentioned anything about it, and she supposed Albus thought it amusing, his deputy shielding herself from him. He never pressed overly hard, because frankly, if he was truly determined, she would not have been able to keep him out.
Back to Hagrid. Minerva had known Hagrid for many years. He was loyal to a fault, and had done much for the Order of the Phoenix during the last war, but the half giant wasn't the best person to get a first impression from. Being professional was not his strong suit. Besides, it was tradition for students raised in non-Wizarding environments or those without parents to be greeted by a Hogwarts professor when shopping in Diagon Alley for the first time. Usually Minerva, or Professor Sinestra were sent. Aurora because she was a consummate professional, and to be frank, a very pretty face, and Minerva as part of her duties. Severus never volunteered, and to be honest, the man was not sociable, to put it lightly.
Hagrid had never been sent out to greet a prospective student, and Albus's suggestion of him had gotten her attention. She had put her foot down. This was very tricky with Albus. The man did not respond well to outright defiance or anything contrary to what he wanted. He always subtly bent others to his will. Minerva, having had a long working relationship with Albus, could get away with standing up to him, slightly, but she knew not to push her luck and not make a habit out of it.
Minerva had stated that Harry's response had asked for her by name. Sending someone else in her place would be construed as rude. No one had any idea what Harry Potter was like, the boy had been off the grid for nearly a decade. A good first impression was vital, and that was not Hagrid's forte. It had taken nearly ten minutes to make him see reason, and he said he 'would allow it'. Like it was some sort of gift.
There were too many times when that man truly irritated her...
The pub was lightly populated. It was close to noon, and the early lunch crowd was starting to come in from the Alley side. Minerva looked up as the door to the Muggle side opened, and a figure stepped in.
He was dressed like a Muggle, with dark pants and a black shirt under a leather jacket. He was moderately tall, maybe 5'5 or 5'6. But what was most noticeable was his hair. It was jet black, and stood straight up and slightly back. He spoke to the bartender, Tom, who pointed in Minerva's direction. The man then thanked Tom and began walking towards Minerva's table, which was in the back, in a quiet area.
He stopped in front of her table. On closer inspection, the man was wearing dark sunglasses, and was that...small earrings? A small silver ring in each ear! People these days...
But the oddest thing seemed to be those marks on each of the man's cheeks. Three thin marks on each cheek, perfectly symmetrical. They looked almost like...whiskers? Somehow, they fit into his overall appearance. They only stuck out slightly on his tanned skin. He looked at her and stuck out a hand. He was wearing some kind of fingerless gloves.
"Are you Professor Minerva McGonagall?"
She replied in the affirmative.
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Harry Potter."
Harry had taken the overnight flight to England, landing in London shortly after seven in the morning. He had taken his bags and stowed his documentation and got into a cab outside the terminal. Asking the driver about any moderately priced, but classy hotels in the area, he had been driven to one slightly outside of the downtown center. He had tipped the driver and checked into a room in the Starlight Inn. He had enough money on him, plus what he could access from his accounts to stay for a very long time. The hotel's atmosphere was pleasant enough, the staff were unobtrusive, room service was not a problem.
He put his bags down and took a nap, waking up six hours later, feeling rested. He had not really slept on the airline. He had been conversing with the fox about various topics of importance during the trip. Looking at the clock, it was around 11:15. Time to go. He had a meeting. He had showered and dressed. He had bought the leather jacket in Hong Kong a day before he left, along with a bunch of other clothing, and looked quite good in it, if he said so himself. He had also bought several pairs of tough, leather fingerless gloves. Looking in the mirror, he thought he looked smashing, ready to face the day.
The fox grumbled about him preening in the mirror like a woman, and Harry left, securing the door behind him. He was not worried about theft. He had painted a seal on the inside of his suite door. No one could enter but him.
The Leaky Cauldron, Charing Cross Road, London... Apparently this pub was the entrance to Diagon Alley, the main Wizarding shopping center in England. There were also a multitude of other lesser Alleys attached to it. Looking at a London street map, it was fairly easy to pinpoint, and twenty minutes later, Harry was in front of the pub.
Looking at it was strange. The building seemed to be slightly rippling, like some kind of mirage. It seemed out of focus. Looking around, Harry noticed none of the muggles walking to and fro paying attention to this. The fox told him to focus energy to his eyes. The sensation was weird, a loud pulsing in tune with his heartbeat behind his eyes. Behind his dark glasses, Harry's eyes were a dull red color and slitted vertically, like the fox's. Releasing the energy, it resettled in his body and Harry's eyes returned to that unsettling shade of intense green again. When Harry focused, the building came into sharp view. The fox explained to him that as a kitsune, it could see through most, if not all illusions, and as a demon carrier, Harry could too. Doing this however caused the slitted eye effect, as Harry was drawing upon the Kyubbi's power to use a superior form of mage sight, an ability that some wizards and witches had. Wearing the glasses while doing this was a good idea, to avoid suspicion. But these were muggle glasses. Perhaps looking into Wizarding glasses was a good idea.
Walking in, he asked the bartender, a man named Tom, if a Minerva McGonagall was here, as he had an appointment with her, and was directed towards a table in the far back. Near the far wall, a woman sat nursing a cup of tea, waiting for someone. As he approached, he could see her appraising him. She appeared to be middle aged, but with wizards, who knew? Scanning her for a moment with his second sight caused him to reevaluate the woman. She was quite the deceiver...
"Are you Professor Minerva McGonagall?"
She nodded.
Harry stuck out his hand.
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Harry Potter."
He took a seat across from Minerva and they sat there for a moment, analyzing one another. Harry Potter was certainly different from most other eleven year old boys she had met. Physically, he was quite well built, but not bulky. He was large enough to wear men's size clothing. Largest eleven year old she ever met. He would probably get only taller as time went on. She was pleased to note he had a firm handshake, although she couldn't see his eyes.
You could read a lot into a person by looking in their eyes.
"Mr. Potter, I am pleased you could meet with me." Minerva started. "Many were concerned, after your...disappearance. I am glad that you are all right. You have my deepest condolences on the deaths of your...relatives." Minerva cursed herself. Her own biased opinions of those people had crept into her voice. He had probably noticed her slight hesitation.
"Thank you...but why?"
"Why what?" Minerva was confused. Why what?
"Why are you offering your condolences? My muggle relatives were nothing to you." He sounded slightly confused, but his wording, his muggle relatives were nothing to her, had strange connotations.
"Mr. Potter...it-it is common courtesy...they were your family?"
Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Professor, people die every day. I highly doubt that the deaths of those three muggles made any difference. Beyond that, I did not know them."
It was the truth. He had been in the Dursely's care, or lack of it for little more than a month when Naruto had rescued him and annihilated them. In all honesty, the Durselys were not even a memory for him and did not occupy a place in his mind. All that Naruto had said about them was that they had been unfit to raise him. Harry had no reason to doubt that. He highly doubted he would have had the opportunity to become what he had become if he had stayed with those muggles.
The professor seemed confused. Harry sounded very...cold when talking about that. It seemed he was well versed in the facts of life and the harsh realities. For some reason, Minerva found that refreshing, like speaking to an equal, in a way.
Harry noticed the Professor seemed to be processing something. No doubt she had expected...something else. She had to adjust to a grounded Hadrian James Potter. She finally smiled and stood up.
"Well, shall we enter Diagon Alley, Mr. Potter? There is much to take care of today."
Harry followed her to a wall on the opposite side of the room. The professor pulled out her wand and proceeded to tap several bricks in a combination. The bricks glowed a light blue for a second before the brick wall slid open, the bricks reforming into a passageway. There was a brightly lit area close on the other side.
Harry arched an eyebrow and looked at Minerva. "Quite a trick." He deadpanned, before entering. Professor McGonagall followed close after, and the passage sealed after them.
The weather on London had been slightly overcast and foggy, but the sun was shining brightly upon Diagon Alley, which was moderately populated today. Harry looked around. The Alley was paved with cobblestones, with magical lampposts spaced every few meters. Several stores caught Harry's attention, but there was one that made the fox take notice. It seemed very interested in a store called 'Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands since 384 B.C.'
"The energy signature within...it is familiar to me..." The fox continued to think for a moment before erupting in a series of throaty chuckles that rumbled through Harry's mind.
'Mind letting me in on the joke?' Harry inquired mentally.
"I shall tell you soon enough, gaki. Needless to say, an old... associate of mine resides in there. There are many days I alternately thank him...and curse his name."
Harry chose not to answer. The fox was in a humorous moment and would not be saying much of anything. Harry would find out soon enough.
He snapped back to reality. McGonagall was saying something. "...over there is Flourish and Blott's Bookstore. They have in stock every book in the Hogwarts curriculum. Over there is Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Hogwarts has an agreement with them for Hogwarts students robes. We will be stopping at both of these stores, but first, we must go to Gringotts."
"Gringotts?" Harry was vaguely familiar with the term. Naruto had mentioned it was a worldwide Wizard banking establishment run by Goblins, a species seemingly obsessed with money and wealth. It was highly probable that they, like other nonhuman species, would be able to sense on some level, what Harry was, and the fox. He hoped it wouldn't get ugly. Goblins were enemies he was unfamiliar with fighting.
Looking down the Alley, there was a white, Romanesque building, the largest one in the Alley. The word GRINGOTTS was emblazoned on a golden plaque above the entrance.
"Let's go, then." Harry said, and both he and the professor started walking again.
Harry decided to stop again when he passed Madame Malkin's and saw a sight. The professor stopped and looked with him. What could Harry really say, looking at this? He leaned up against a wall on the opposite side of the shop that offered a clear line of sight view through the front window. Sensing movement, Harry looked to his left to see a woman standing, leaning was more like it, against the same wall. She was quite beautiful, in her mid-thirties, with a shining head of pale blond hair, clear skin, and ice blue eyes. Subconsciously, the fox was eyeing her. She had the Kyubbi's stamp of approval, being 'quite fetching, for a human monkey'. The fox threw praise and insults at the same time.
She must have noticed him staring slightly, and met him with a glare. She gave a slight dismissive snort, looking at his clothes. Obviously, she was not one who approved of muggle clothes. There had been others who passed him by in the alley who had given him dirty looks. He had paid it no mind.
The woman seemed slightly irritated, when he broke eye contact and seemingly dismissed her, choosing to stare back at the sight in the store. Professor McGonagall also seemed confused as to what had just happened, and then stared at what was going on inside Madame Malkin's.
Standing, seemingly on display for all to see, were two people, a boy and a man, clearly father and son from their looks. The man was tall, wearing a dark cloak over a dark robe. His pale, almost bleached hair was long and in a pony tail. For some reason, he was holding a cane. Next to him was a boy, seemingly being fitted for robes. The boy seemed quite agitated, and acted the consummate brat, yelling silently at a clerk measuring him. Harry could not hear the gaki's tirade, but he appeared quite animated. The clerk seemed slightly cowed by the boy's antics, and the man was standing off to the side, with a look of...was that pride on the fool's face?
What the hell did the idiot have to be proud of, his son making a scene like that?
Harry looked back at the woman, who seemed to have adopted some kind of neutral expression of boredom on her face. It was obvious she was paying attention to him, but not showing it.
Finally, he spoke. "For some odd reason, looking at this, I am reminded of watching animals in their natural habitat."
Harry's words hung in the air for a moment. The professor and the woman seemed to be in thought about this for a moment, before bursting in laughter, before both of them got themselves under control and their amusement expressed itself as stifled giggles.
"You appear to have a way with words, Mr. Potter." Minerva said, a smile on her face, in spite of herself. It seemed Lucius had done a terrible job raising his son, seeing how the boy was behaving. She shuddered slightly. She would have to deal with that...and probably the boy's monstrous sense of entitlement and arrogance for the next seven years. But then again, she would also deal with Hadrian James Potter...who seemed possessed of a dry wit that she could appreciate. Perhaps that would do something to balance out the headaches that would undoubtedly come up from Lucius's misbegotten son.
"Mr. Potter?" The woman said in an interested tone. "Harry Potter?" At Harry's nod, the woman seemed to look at him in a new light. "There were many people who were concerned after you disappeared. But it appears there was nothing to be concerned about. You appear quite...healthy."
No doubt the woman wanted to say something other than healthy. Harry had seen the look in her eyes before. She was at least interested. Hogwarts might be quite a time. No doubt even at eleven, he would be beating off the girls with a stick. Harry supposed he was much more attractive than many other male Wizarding specimens. There was an underlying predisposition towards physical laziness on the part of many wizards. This was part of the attitude prevalent that all problems and battles could be solved with magic. There were no doubt exceptions to this. Aurors and other physically demanding organizations required physical fitness, as did Wizarding sports. But for the most part, the Wizarding World was filled with fat, lazy sheep conditioned to think more with their wands than their brains. Harry remembered Naruto's analysis of the Wizarding World quite well.
"Thank you. And you are...?"
"Narcissa Malfoy." Harry shook her hand. "It has been a long time since Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall. It is good to see you again." Narcissa had a slightly off tone of voice when saying this. Minerva could probably guess why. As a student, Narcissa Black, along with her sisters, Bellatrix and Andromeda had been very talented, nearly as much as the late Lily Potter. A promising future could have been on the horizon. The Black sisters were certainly ambitious enough. But then the Dark Lord crept into everyone's lives, burning and killing. Bellatrix had decided to become a Death Eater. What a shame. Narcissa had been contracted to marry Lucius Malfoy, who frankly, was undeserving of any woman. But Narcissa had seen some kind of advantage in being married to an up and coming Death Eater and sadist. And Andromeda had followed her heart and married a Muggleborn, and had been declared persona non grata in high society. At the war's end, Malfoy had paid a hefty sum to stay out of prison. If it had been up to Minerva, she would have sent the arrogant bastard through the Veil. Lucius was a killer. But he had primarily killed muggles, leading raids as part of Voldemort's 'proud crusade'. To the Wizengamot, and most of the Wizarding World in general, muggles didn't really matter. They were like cattle, without powers. It only mattered in keeping them ignorant of the existence of magic, as muggles outnumbered wizards severely. Something about that apathy for human life, even that of muggles, saddened Minerva greatly.
"Narcissa." Minerva said neutrally. "How have you been?"
"I am well enough. Lucius and Draco are being fitted for Hogwarts robes." Narcissa certainly didn't sound well enough.
"How...nice for you, to have a husband and son such as those two." Harry said. "I'm sure they are doing right by you, making you wait outside for them." There was a biting tone in his voice. The fox whispered something in his mind, and Harry had an idea.
"Miss Malfoy, I am shopping for school supplies today with Professor McGonagall. She has been very kind, pointing out the sights, but perhaps a second opinion is needed on the local color?"
A startled look erupted on the gorgeous woman's face. Professor McGonagall also had a questioning look.
"It would not be proper for me to intrude..."
Professor McGonagall picked up the argument. "Nonsense, Narcissa. Mr. Potter has presented a wonderful idea, certainly one better than waiting in the street for Merlin knows how long. I am sure you have some insights that Mr. Potter would appreciate. Perhaps you know a suitable restaurant for lunch?"
"I do..."
"Then its settled. Mr. Potter has some business at Gringotts, but afterwards, you and I can take Mr. Potter on a tour, make a time of it. Make sure young Harry is well adjusted to everything?"
Harry raised an eyebrow at this. He really had no problems adjusting to anything. It was not like magic or its applications was new to him. But whatever it took. He wouldn't mind a day with Miss Malfoy, and Professor McGonagall had her own secret, but it wasn't his place to say anything yet.
"Then I thank you for the invitation, Mr. Potter, Professor." The woman certainly brightened up. In fact, she had a determined air in her step. Showing Harry Potter around was certainly better than waiting outside for Lucy and her...son. More and more Cissy regretted marrying Lucius. The man just didn't know how to treat a woman, in so many different ways. And Draco? What more could be said? The boy was going to be just like his father, through and through. Narcissa did not look at that with pride. The boy was only eleven, but Lucius had ruined the boy.
But Potter...he had been nothing like she had expected, and Narcissa did not know what to expect. His father had been something, but the son was different. There was something about him that she couldn't put her finger on. The hair was part of it, as was the sunglasses. The earrings didn't hurt either, nor did the fact that the boy looked very well put together. And he was only eleven. The future might be even better. And those marks on his cheeks...like whiskers. She had never seen anything so cute!
Minerva could hardly believe it. Narcissa Malfoy was a grown woman, at least twenty years older than the boy. How then in Merlin's name could she be getting moon-eyed over him? Granted, looking at the situation in an unprofessional manner, the boy was very handsome. But a level of professionalism and decorum was necessary! If she wanted to stare, at least be discreet about it. At least Potter seemed to take it with good humor. One thing was for sure, those whisker marks, wherever they had come from, they looked much better on him than that horrid lightning bolt scar that had been on his forehead. She had noticed it, or the absence if it, when she had met him. His forehead was unblemished and unmarked. The only mark she could see on him were those marks on his cheeks. Damned if they didn't look like whiskers. She couldn't help herself. They made him look so cute!
The atmosphere inside Gringotts stopped for a few long seconds when Harry entered, flanked by Professor McGonagall and Narcissa Malfoy. The two women picked up quickly the air of tension that seemingly erupted out of nowhere. The goblin guards were even more alert, clawed hands gripping their halberds tightly. The goblin tellers continued to work, but it was obvious they were watching the newcomers, specifically Harry Potter. It was a little after noon, the lunch hour, so the bank was lightly populated with patrons.
For his part, Harry steeled himself. The fox was whispering to him to be on his guard. There were multiple enemies, many of them armed. There was also whatever powers these small beings could command. Harry was warned to step lightly.
"You appear to be the subject of much attention, Mr. Potter." Narcissa said. This aggressive atmosphere confused her.
"That seems to be the case." Harry remarked. "I'm...not entirely sure what they seem so anxious about. Perhaps it would be better not to mention it." Step lightly...
"Is that so, Mr. Potter?' Minerva was not convinced by Harry's dismissal of this. The goblins seemed almost afraid. That was a first for her to see.
Harry walked up to a teller window, his footfalls sounding in the cavernous room. The goblin who was manning the window seemed almost ready to run, but somehow held his ground. "Hello..." Harry looked at the nameplate. "...Griphook." The goblin looked up, being addressed by name. Wizards generally deemed it beneath them to address goblins, or most other nonhumans, by name. "I'd like to access the...?"
"Potter Accounts." Professor McGonagall said.
"What she said." Harry finished.
"Name?"
"Hadrian James Potter."
The diminutive goblin looked at him for a second, before searching for something on his forehead. Whatever could it be? Harry mused. He presumed the infamous lightning bolt scar, the mark of the Killing Curse. It had been a distinctive feature of Harry Potter up until a few years ago, when Harry had been marked in a different way...one he was much more agreeable to. His whisker marks were so much better than that ugly, jagged scar. The females seemed to like it. The woman, Narcissa, certainly did. She had made a good show of hiding it, but Harry knew when he was being watched. His elevated senses also picked up a certain...smell she gave off. The professor also gave it off, in a smaller degree. That woman definitely had secrets, but Harry knew her most obvious one. He supposed she had her reasons. It really was a shame, a woman like Narcissa forced to wait on someone like that bleached maggot and his copy. There was no justice in the world...
"A blood confirmation ritual shall have to be done, in order to confirm your identity." The goblin, Griphook, continued.
"Of course." Harry followed the goblin down a hallway leading to an conference room, Professor McGonagall and Narcissa following him.
Holding his sliced hand over a bowl filled with a clear substance, Harry squeezed out a few droplets of blood, which colored the liquid in the bowl a crimson red. The fluid then shimmered an odd golden color, and a scrap of parchment floated to the surface, before the liquid evaporated and the bowl became empty again. Griphook scanned the parchment before using an odd bit of goblin magic to burn the parchment to ashes.
"It appears you are Hadrian James Potter, son of Lord James Eric Potter and Lady Lily Marie Potter. What can Gringotts do for you today?" The goblin asked.
"I was told that the Potter Accounts have been sealed. I would like them reopened and ready for access."
"There is a slight problem, Mr. Potter. Now that you have confirmed your identity, the bank has reopened the Potter Accounts, they can be accessed. But as you are still an underage wizard, you cannot access the full Accounts and vaults until you reach your majority."
"Which is?" Stupid Wizard laws...
"Seventeen." Griphook said.
"That is quite a problem..." Harry said. He was actually quite vexed by this.
"The Lord and Lady Potter did not leave a will at the time of their deaths, so currently, the status of the Potter Estate is in question. It was...requested certain parties be alerted when the Potter Accounts were accessed again."
"Requested?!" Harry said, a hard edge in his voice. "Isn't this bank, like any other bank, bound by confidentiality?"
"It is..." Griphook said. "Rest assured, Mr. Potter. This was not an arrangement Gringotts wanted nor desired. Confidentiality is one of our most prized assets. We had little choice in the matter."
"Little choice in the matter...was Gringotts approached by someone?" Already an obstacle was approaching...
"As a matter of fact, yes. In fact, he is on his way to this room right now."
Minerva had a sinking feeling about this...
Narcissa also was contemplative. Who else could it have been, but the old one himself? He had his wrinkled fingers in every pie, after all.
Harry cocked his head for a moment, looking for something. Concentrating, he sent a micro burst of energy, a flash really. It was a variation of Naruto's 'chakra radar' technique. The small pulse pushed out, then returned to him. Three signatures, one large one, close to massive, around Harry's own power level without the fox. Then there were two other signatures, substantially smaller, moving with him.
"There are people coming." Harry said.
And not five seconds later, the conference room doors opened, revealing a tall, almost ancient man clad in the oddest robes Harry had ever seen. The colors were...strange. He was flanked by two people. A balding, redheaded man who looked to be in his late forties, and a redheaded woman who looked every bit the housewife stereotype. The old man looked around the room, taking in the occupants for a moment. Harry caught the calculating glint in his eyes before it disappeared. Harry knew the score. Look underneath the underneath. That motto had been pounded into him from the earliest age. The man's admittedly off putting choice of clothing was a distraction. While everyone was busy trying not to look at terrible fashion sense, they didn't notice the man running circles around them. And whoever these redheaded people were, Harry didn't really care.
The old man's gaze settled on him. "You must be Harry Potter." At his nod in the affirmative, the old man shook his hand. "A pleasure to meet you. I am Albus Dumbledore."
This just went to show Albus that expectations got one nowhere. He had been alerted through the Floo that someone claiming to be Hadrian James Potter was at Gringotts, and was in the process of reopening the Potter Accounts. Albus got the feeling that the goblin waited until the last minute to do this. He had twisted a great many arms all those years ago to get the goblins to agree to this. Nearly all of the leverage he had with the goblins had been used up. They would not be overly kind with him in the future.
Getting dressed in a fresh set of robes, Albus had Flooed Arthur and Molly at the Burrow. Today was a Saturday, so the everyone was at home. It had not taken very long to tell Arthur and Molly that there was a matter of extreme importance that he needed their assistance with. He smiled slightly. Those two were so loyal, and that counted for a lot. Neither of them were very powerful magically. Their children, especially Bill, Fred and George, and little Ginny were and would be powerhouses compared to their parents. But the adult Weasleys both had their uses. Arthur had many contacts in the Ministry, and knew most of those involved with the mechanics of government. Molly, at times, her mothering instinct was extreme, but she kept people in line. That had been very useful during the years the Order had operated.
Leaving their oldest in charge of the house, the two had dressed and Flooed into Albus's office. They were both very surprised to hear that someone was attempting to access the Potter Accounts. It was common knowledge that there was only one Potter left. Albus had asked them to come with him as he assessed the situation. Yes. Assessing the situation. That had a nice, nonthreatening ring to it that assured Arthur and Molly's compliance almost immediately.
Arriving in Diagon Alley through a Floo exit close to Gringotts, the three of them made their way inside. Almost begrudgingly, a goblin directed the three of them down a side hallway. Steeling himself, Albus opened the doors. To his surprise, there were four occupants in the room. There was a goblin, standing next to the conference table, which had a blood identification bowl on it. In the goblin's hand was a slip of parchment, undoubtedly from the bowl, confirming identity. There was Minerva...and Narcissa Malfoy? That was troubling. What was Lucius Malfoy's wife doing here of all places? He would have to investigate that. But the true person of interest was the person standing in the center, regarding Albus with equal interest. The boy was tall, and looked fit, extremely so, which gave him a look of maturity. There was a trace of James Potter in the boy's general appearance, but there were too many differences. The hair for one, had an odd windswept spiky look with a few locks hanging down. The boy had small silver earrings on, and was wearing dark sunglasses. This was an issue. The passive Legilimency Albus always conducted required direct eye contact. The sunglasses prevented that.
But the one that made him take true notice were the marks, and the lack of a significant one. He had been marked as the Dark Lord's equal...where was the mark? Instead the boy had six odd symmetrical whisker-like marks on his cheeks. They certainly weren't disfiguring. But that was strange, but ultimately unimportant. The mark...where was it?
Might as well go forward.
"You must be Harry Potter."
The boy nodded.
"A pleasure to meet you. I am Albus Dumbledore."
The fox growled in Harry's mind as he shook the hand of this Dumbledore character. "I can smell his magics, gaki. It is familiar to me. He was the one. His was the hand that chained your powers."
Harry's eyes narrowed at this. Meeting the man, he could believe it. The man had a slippery air about him. No doubt he dressed like the kindly insane grandfather for a tactical purpose. This geriatric would be a tough opponent.
Dumbledore turned and looked first at Minerva, then at Narcissa. "Miss Malfoy. It is a surprise to see you here, of all places. I was unaware you had any affiliation with Mr. Potter."
How would have the old man known? He was running some kind of game. Harry meant to shut him down. "Professor McGonagall and I saw Miss Malfoy out in the Alley earlier. After introducing myself, I asked her if she wouldn't mind assisting Professor McGonagall in showing me what the area has to offer. She was gracious enough to accept."
That seemed to sum up the situation nicely.
"That is very good. You are to be commended, Miss Malfoy. Thank you. I recently was alerted to the situation and thought I would lend my assistance."
"Lend your...assistance?" A low drawl had taken up Harry's voice and Minerva was looking at Albus with an odd look in her face. He was spinning something.
"Yes. Your parents and I were close associates, and they would have wanted me to lend whatever assistance I could to their only son."
Minerva and Narcissa looked at one another for a second. Narcissa had been a Slytherin, and Minerva worked with the man day in and day out. He had some kind of plan.
"Assistance," Harry said, tasting the word. "Such as what? If I may ask?" Internally, Albus was fuming. He certainly did not want this oversized child to ask. The Potter fortune was a resource that had many applications, as did the boy, if he was pliable, something which Albus was becoming less and less convinced of.
"On several matters." Albus continued. "As an underage wizard, you cannot access the entirety of the Potter Accounts. A party must be named in your stead until you reach your majority. And as an underage wizard, you must stay with a suitable Wizarding family. To ensure you are being taken care of properly."
Minerva silently smirked. This was Albus's game. Sweeten the boy's ears with honey and slam him with the law to make him comply with whatever scheme he had cooking. She had been wondering what the Weasleys were doing here. This was it. By suitable Wizarding family, Albus meant them. Minerva had noticed, both in teaching the woman's children in Hogwarts and interacting with her during the years the Order had been active, that Molly Weasley was a dominating personality. And that was putting it lightly. Perhaps Molly's saving grace was the fact that the woman could cook. It was ironic that a Transfiguration Mistress had no flair in the kitchen, but it was sadly true.
Molly had an annoying habit of mothering everything and everyone in her orbit. This had a detrimental effect on her children. Many of them were interested in or pursuing dangerous careers, such as Bill's cursebreaking and Charlie's dragon handling. They were undoubtedly acts of rebellion, partially to spite her and partially to get away from her. The twins, Fred and George, were notorious pranksters who has a solid reputation at Hogwarts. Minerva could see the genius that lay underneath the jokes. The pranks were also done partially to thumb their nose at Mother and partially because the twins did not want to pursue something truly lifethreatening.
As for Arthur, the man was cowed. No kinder way Minerva could put it. He worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office in the Ministry, which was fairly useless, as not many wizards in England were interested in misusing Muggle artifacts at all. He had the position because he was obsessed with muggle items. As far as the household went, Arthur went down the path of least resistance, for better or worse. Minerva did not have a great amount of respect for him.
"A party must be named in my stead as I'm not of age, you say?" Harry mused. "I assume you might be an interested party, willing to help with my finances?"
"I would be glad to help." Albus said, the very definition of kindness and generosity. The shit was being laid quite thick, as the muggles would say.
"Thank you for the offer...but I'm not sure. We don't know each other that well. I'm hesitant to burden someone I don't know with such a responsibility. I don't want to be a bother..."
She knew it. Potter was leading the old meddler in a circle. Narcissa was positive Potter was a smart boy. Giving Albus Dumbledore control would be a very bad thing. He would smile to your face while causing trouble behind your back.
"Are there any other options? I really don't want to be a burden..." Harry injected a pleading note into his voice.
It was then that the least likely person in the room spoke up. "There is another option, Mr. Potter." Griphook spoke up.
This was the chance. Dumbledore had stepped on many toes nearly a decade ago, and under duress the goblins had been forced to comply with what he had asked, to be notified if the Potter Accounts were ever accessed. The old man had no more power with them. Griphook was sure Bank President Ragnok would approve of his idea. He held no love for Dumbledore either, a man who was all smiles but searching for a weakness constantly. Solid agreements and trust were a foundation of the goblin identity and the way they conducted business. Dumbledore was a man that had to be constantly watched. None of them liked that.
"Please tell." Harry encouraged.
"You could designate a goblin representative to control the majority of your financial affairs until you come of age. Normally, a Wizarding family designates a goblin financial manager but retains majority control over their affairs. As there are no family members of House of Potter, save yourself, this arrangement is not feasible. This provides a...neutral option."
Everyone in the room, save Harry, was looking at the diminutive goblin with a mild degree of shock. This was completely unexpected. Albus looked completely sidelined for several seconds. The goblins were facilitators, middlemen. To take an active hand in a situation such as this was unprecedented. Harry doubted the goblins were doing this out of some sense of altruism. It was obvious they didn't like Dumbledore and had taken the opportunity to strike him in an unexpected manner. But still...Professor McGonagall and Narcissa had told him that for goblins, honoring their agreements was a fundamental part of their identity. There had been duels to the death over broken agreements between goblins. They probably wanted something from him, but they wouldn't steal from him.
Harry spoke again. "I trust that I would be able to establish a dialogue with whoever was chosen as my representative in this matter?" Albus saw where this was going. The boy and the goblins were going to work behind his back on this. In regards to banking matters, goblins were only interested in protecting the investments of their clients and making their clients more prosperous. The boy wanted a dialogue, which was a way of saying that the goblins would be a 'legal' buffer, allowing the boy access to his money without him really touching it, as he could not do so legally. Albus hid his anger quite well. The boy was cunning, and was sharp. That wouldn't do. And the goblin? That had been unexpected.
Griphook grinned. This was quite a clever human. Dumbledore seemed furious he lost control of the situation, and the two drones he had brought with him seemed confused.
"I'm sure something could be established, Mr. Potter. So this arrangement is agreeable to you?"
"Mr. Potter, I must implore you not to do this. It would not be in your best interests." Minerva and Narcissa sat back and were silent for the last few minutes. Events had been maneuvered out of Albus's control quite smoothly, but the goblin getting involved was new. Dumbledore must have really slipped up and infuriated them. It was always said that goblins would take their revenge in unexpected ways. This was one of them.
"Hmmm. I think this is an arrangement that could be beneficial to both parties, Griphook. I am definitely interested. How quickly can this be done?"
"Immediately, Mr. Potter." Griphook withdrew some parchment from a cabinet on the wall of the conference room and drafted a legal form. Knowledge of Ministry financial laws were a requirement to work in Gringotts, and this arrangement was legal. It just had never been done before. Harry took the form and read it, before signing it with a provided quill.
"If this is what you wish, Mr. Potter..." Albus sounded on edge. This was the last thing he wanted. The status of the Potter Accounts and vaults had been in limbo until the boy named a new proxy. Having the goblins run it was new, and something he didn't plan for.
In a few short seconds, the door had been shut on a asset Albus wanted quite badly. It would be a cold day in Hades before the goblins would do anything for Albus Dumbledore again. That damned goblin would probably be rewarded for sticking it to Albus Dumbledore. But there still was a second part to this; the boy himself.
"If this is what you want, Mr. Potter. But there is still another matter to address today."
"Which is?"
"Your living arrangements. As an underage wizard, and especially one of your status, a stable living environment is essential for your continued development."
Thank you for your...foresight, Mr. Dumbledore. I suppose you know of a few people willing to take me in?"
"As a matter of fact, I do. Allow me to introduce Arthur and Molly Weasley. They are trusted associates of mine, and have several children your own age. They would be happy to take you in."
It was at this moment Harry took off his shades and looked at the three of them. Arthur and Molly twitched slightly. The boy's gaze was very intense. Not even Lily Potter's distinctive green eyes had been this particular color, the cold jade darkness of the Killing Curse. Albus noticed an odd predatory shift in the boy's eyes for a moment, before dismissing it. He seemed to be studying the three of them.
Continuing in his string of blunders for the day, Albus did something very foolish. He looked in the boy's eyes and attempted passive Legilimency. Albus was quite skilled at lacing his mental probes with slight compulsions. He could shift the boy to his will slightly.
Minerva and Narcissa looked at one another, and Griphook took notice. The old man never stopped. Legilimency on a minor was illegal. But that never stopped Albus Dumbledore. Arthur and Molly were too stupid to notice and wouldn't have called Dumbledore on it anyway. Their loyalty to him ran extremely deep. They were like dogs that way.
"He is probing your mind!" The fox growled. "How dare he!"
'Calm down, fox. I have a plan. Hold his probe, but do not alert him to your presence.'
The only sign something was wrong was that Albus snorted slightly and stood still. He could not retract his probe! The damned boy had somehow latched on to it! He could feel slightly the hooks of something holding the end of his probe. If he could not disengage soon, it would become very painful for him. The boy's mind was shielded somehow, but he had never heard of a reaction like this.
Slowly, Harry concentrated and began building up something. The goblin noticed it first, and struggled to hold his ground. Minerva and Narcissa then noticed it. Both of them had to engage their Occlumency to remain stable. Arthur and Molly sensed something, an overpowering feeling of death and terror washing over them. This pervasive wave washed out for moment, before compressing into a tight stream.
Harry had learned the theory and application of killing intent from the last true master. Killing intent was quite literally, the will to murder. The extension of your presence and being and the use of it as a psychological weapon. Naruto had explained to him that it was partially body language, creating an aggressive and invulnerable position. The second part was the meticulous use of your energy and emotions to produce a debilitating effect on an opponent. Proper use of killing intent on a weak opponent could cause involuntary reactions and loss of bladder control, cause nosebleeds. Properly applied, it could even kill weak animals or the elderly, overloading their bodies through fear. The Dark Lord Voldemort had a very primitive understanding of this concept, which partially made his reputation as a man so feared people were afraid to even say his name.
Killing intent was a strange form of Legilimency, instead of a fine probe peeling away secrets, it was a brutal hammer used to smash an enemy even before a fight started.
Harry solely used his own energy for this. Had he used the fox's, the old man in all likelihood would have had a fatal reaction. As such, with only Harry's base killing intent, the old man was having difficulties. Harry slowly released the probe. As he did so, Albus began having a nosebleed, which he tried to stop.
The old man tried to save face. He had a severe headache from whatever the boy had done to him. He had never felt so afraid in his life. But he still had to salvage this.
"There is still the matter of your living arrangements, my dear boy." Arthur and Molly looked deeply troubled. They had been completely paralyzed during the exchange.
"There is no need, Mr. Dumbledore. I have been able to look after myself for years with no difficulty. I see no reason for that to change. Besides, I don't want to be an imposition."
"Nonsense, young Harry. Now, I must insist..."
"Insist all you like. My time is valuable and I would rather not spend it with your pet family."
The entire conversation with Dumbledore had been very soft blows, two opponents dancing around one another, sending out feelers. Harry's dominance had been established early on, but it was time to clinch it and show the old man who was in control. The time for niceties were over.
The two of them stared down one another for a second. Harry had put his shades back on. Finally, it was Griphook who broke this impasse.
"I believe your business is concluded, Mr. Dumbledore." The conference room doors opened and four security goblins entered. "Security will see you out."
The old man and his stooges could not leave quickly enough. No one said anything for a moment before Griphook spoke. "Shall we make a withdrawal from your vaults, Mr. Potter?"
Harry looked at Professor McGonagall and Miss Malfoy. They seemed to be processing what just happened. They then snapped out of it.
"Yes. Let's go."
Harry and company exited Gringotts about twenty minutes later. Harry held an enchanted moneybag with about a hundred galleons. This would be enough to take care of everything and still have a generous amount left over. He could sense the two women to either side of him had things they wanted to say.
"Mr. Potter, I must ask. What in Merlin's name were you doing in there?"
"That's very simple, Professor. I like my life just the way it is, and I won't stand for anyone changing it. Those two with the old man, those...Weasleys, was it? They had the old man's stink all about them. It is as I said. I have better things to do with my time."
Minerva opened her mouth, then closed it. Damned if the boy wasn't right. It was much harsher than she would have said it, but the truth. This was also the first time she had seen Albus back down from anything. This was partially due to the goblin's clever trick. The goblins were masters of the law, and of finding loopholes in it. No doubt they would want something from Harry down the road, and who knew what that would be? But Harry essentially had access to his fortune, with the goblins as middlemen. No doubt they would do whatever he wanted in regards to his money.
"But what was that? What you did?" Narcissa asked.
"I did something?"
"Don't play the innocent, Mr. Potter."
"It's a trick I learned. One of many. Perhaps I'll teach you someday." With that, Harry stopped in front of Ollivander's and walked in, holding the door for Professor McGonagall and Narcissa.
Mr. Ollivander froze when he saw who had entered his shop. He had sensed, or thought he had sensed something an hour ago. He hoped it wasn't true. But here it was, in his shop, after all of these years...
Forcing a smile onto his face, he came up to the counter. "Miss Black, Miss McGonagall. It has been many years since you last entered my shop. I trust there are no difficulties?"
They both said no.
"And you must be...Mr. Potter. Yes. I have been expecting you. If you don't mind, may we speak in the back for a few moments? There is a matter of some urgency we must talk about."
Harry wasn't surprised. The fox had told him all about this. "Of course. Professor, Miss Malfoy, I won't be long."
The two of them quickly made their way into a back storage room. Ollivander shut the door with a powerful locking and silencing charm. He then was about to turn his wand on Harry, but the young man grabbed his arm in a steel grip, causing him to drop his wand, which rolled out of his reach. With his other arm, Harry held Ollivander in the air off his feet.
"A demon container..." Ollivander muttered.
Harry grinned, and his body changed slightly. His nails became clawed, his whisker marks lengthened and deepened, his teeth became razor sharp, and he took his glasses off to reveal red, slitted eyes.
"Not a demon container, the demon container." Harry snarled. "Quite aggressive there. I wonder why. In case you're wondering, the Kyubbi no Kitsune says hi. He still remembers what you did."
"Please...Lord Kitsune...it has been nearly six thousand years...have I not suffered enough? Have I not been punished?" Ollivander's voice sounded piteous.
Harry felt the Kyubbi roaring in his mind, when then quieted to a low growl. He ignored Ollivander's pleas and continued.
"I wonder what the world would say if they knew that Mr. Ollivander, friendly neighborhood wand maker, was in reality the former High Lord of Atlantis...Merlin?"
Harry let out a dark chuckle.
A/N: My first real cliffhanger. I know. People are going to hate me for this, but the Diagon Alley scene stretched too long and I had to break it up. The next chapter will cover the end of this, the Hogwarts Train, and the Sorting.
A few things:
The goblins: So you are not confused, this is not one of those stories where Harry is chummy with the goblins. That idea has been overdone to death. They recognize what Harry is, and are rightfully afraid of him. But, they will do business with him, as Harry maintains a position of nonaggression. As far as their business arrangement goes, I took an idea from jbern's To Fight the Coming Darkness, where Harry gives representation over to the goblins in the Wizengamot. As far as my story goes, as was said, this arrangement is a nice legal loophole that Harry can use to get access to his money without the fact that he is underage getting in the way. The goblins don't like Dumbledore, which is an added plus. But they do want something for this, which will be explored as soon as I can think up something.
Minerva: In this, I see her character as more analytical. I have read other stories where Minerva disagrees with Dumbledore sometimes, but ultimately backs down on what he wants. I don't like that. Minerva is a smart woman. For this fic, I'll say she is very careful around Dumbledore. She is a powerful witch, but Dumbledore is much more powerful than her. The power imbalance is there. But she's a smart woman, and knows how the old man operates. Much of this chapter were her opinions and her reminiscing on various things, like the Weasleys. Her analysis of the Weasleys was partially inspired by To Fight the Coming Darkness as well, and thinking about it, it is spot on. Arthur and Molly are not the stereotypical 'evil' Weasleys, but they don't think, which is worse. The analysis of their children will play a part in the future. As far as Minerva's 'secret' goes, I will explore it in the next chapter. I will give a hint. In a way, Professor McGonagall is like Tsunade. Read into that what you will.
Narcissa: Maybe her intro into this mix was weak, or strange. Or maybe, just maybe, it was spot on. The way I see the beautiful Miss Black is that she's like a very intelligent trophy wife. She married Lucius thinking one thing, and he turned out so wrong, and gave her a son she is ashamed of, a worthless boy with delusions of grandeur. I'd say that boredom makes up most of her life, and frankly, she doesn't deserve that. Her husband, making her wait outside, like she is some kind of dog, is disgraceful. She's kind of eager for any kind of excitement in her life, and will jump at it. She's vary talented, but being married to Malfoy, its going to waste.
Harry: One person who reviewed this story thought that I was making Harry too serious, or something. He needed some kind of perversion, or something, to lighten him up. To this, I say no. Comedy is not at the forefront of this story, although it will be there. In a way, Harry is a little like Sasuke. Think about it before you rip my head off. He is the last of his family, he's mysterious, handsome, strong. But he won't be aloof like that asshole Sasuke. Even this early, the females are noticing him. He's certainly better looking and more put together than any other eleven year old in the school. In regards to a quirk, what I will say is this. The females will go crazy over the whisker marks, as they're so CUTE! That is as far as I'll go in that regard. Make no mistake, in a way, Harry will be an avenger, just not a stupid one, like Sasuke was.
Ollivander: I read a story called Interview with the Slytherin Childe where Ollivander was Merlin, and I loved it. I will explain the meaning of the last few parts of the chapter in the next chapter. Needless to say, Ollivander and Kyubbi no Kitsune have some history.
One final thing: I've read too many stories where Dumbledore violated the Potter's will by placing Harry with the Dursleys. I got around that by simply saying that the Potters did not make one. There was not enough time or something. Voldemort smashing down their door was unexpected.
One other final thing: In regards to Harry's attitude with Dumbledore, Harry IS underage, but no one makes him do something he doesn't want to do. I'm trying to create this dynamic that Harry follows his own path and does his own thing. He really can't be made to do anything or ordered around by the old man. Dumbledore insists on something? So what. He insists, so what? No one really controls him. This will be expanded more in the future.
As always, leave detailed reviews, the more detailed, the better! DETAILED! Read the chapter and call me on anything you deem important or liked. I like all the story alerts and favorite stories, those are cool, but please review, and in detail! I cannot stress that enough.