Disclaimer: This applies to the whole fic, including this chapter. I am not, in any way, shape or form, involved or affiliated with the Potter universe. I am merely borrowing the characters for my, and hopefully your, pleasure.
A/N: Hi, all. This is my first fic, so please feel free to flame me or give suggestions, so that this fic can be a better read.
Anyway, all that gloomy and boring stuff out of the way, on with the story.
The following section is taken from Lee Child's the visitor, also known as Running Blind.
PEOPLE SAY THAT KNOWLEDGE IS POWER. THE MORE KNOWLEDGE, the more power. Suppose you knew the winning numbers for the lottery? All of them? Not guessed them, not dreamed them, but really knew them? What would you do? You would run to the store, is what. You would mark those numbers on the playslip. And you would win.
Same for the stock market. Suppose you really knew what was going to go way up? You're not talking about a hunch or a gut feeling here.
You're not talking about a trend or a percentage game or a whisper or a tip. You're talking about knowledge. Real, hard knowledge.
CHAPTER ONE Lily tilted the cup of tea and took a sip.
She watched Flamel out the corner of her eye as he rubbed a callused hand over a few day s growth of stubble on his chin.
Will you do it? she asked, not meeting the much older wizard s dark eyes.
I ll do it, Flamel nodded. For you, Lily, I ll do it.
For me? she asked, half joking.
Flamel bowed and adopted a formal tone.
It is not often that an old man, such as myself, is graced with the presence of a beautiful lady such as you.
Lily snickered. Really, Nick? You think I m beautiful, after all these years of observing women? To Flamel s nod, she said: "I am flattered, Nick. Thank you."
Flamel smirked at Lily.
As you should be, my dear.
Lily and Flamel both knew that they had been shying from the original purpose of this call. It concerned her son, Harry James Potter, heir to the House Potter.
Getting back to the topic at hand, Flamel said: I ll do it. Although the circumstances, if they occur, will be most regrettable."
"I cannot thank you enough, Nick."
"No thanks are needed, Lily. It'll be my duty to the wizarding world."
Lily sighed.
Flamel had a habit of bringing himself down.
"Your duty? Maybe. But don't let that stand in your way, Nicolas."
October 31, 1981 Godric's Hollow.
The flash of green light ricocheted around the room, the reflection bouncing from window to window in a dizzying swirl of ominous light.
Death touched that house, the one protected by the Fidelius and left it a wreck. The body of James Potter lay on the living room coffee table, disemboweled and most definitely dead. Lily Potter lay on the floor, dead from a killing curse. Harry Potter lay bleeding from a gash in his forehead, the only survivor of this macabre death-scene.
That was what greeted Nicolas as he walked into the Potter house.
He smelt the tang of blood and dust from the lethal duel that had taken place.
With a silent "Hominum revelio,"
he began to home in on the last living Potter.
Harry was crying.
Blood trickled down his forehead and left tracks on his cheeks where they twined with that of his tears.
Flamel extracted a Hanky from the front pocket of his robes and began to mop the blood and tears away.
He cooed to the child, before he noticed the lightning bolt. He stepped back in shock, treading on the wrist of the dead body of Lord Voldemort.
Nicholas acted hastily.
Quickly snatching Harry up, he waved his wand, shrinking and packing all Harry's belongings in a simultaneous thrum of active magic.
Nicolas had seconds before Albus arrived, and he needed to flee the scene, and fast.
OOOOO
The spell zipped passed Harry's ear, like the twang of an elastic band.
Quickly, he brought up his training wand and ripped off three triple burst of Stunning Spells, which Nicolas dodged expertly.
"C'mon, old man!"Harry taunted, a smile of delight on his ten-year old face.
"Don't get too cocky, boy!"Nicolas growled, but he didn't mean it.
Harry ran at him, sinuous ropes exploding from the tip of his wand, trying to encompass the elder wizard. With an amused curl of his clean-shaven lip, he dispelled the ropes into nothing.
Honestly, Nicolas knew, Harry was doing damn fine for a lad of ten.
Nicholas had noticed a keen thirst for knowledge and aptitude in the boy which he and his wife, Perenelle, had encouraged.
Harry was still getting used to the practical, but his theory on spells and such was quite good.
Nicolas did monitor the knowledge he gained, though. Lest the boy be corrupted by things that could attract his fancy.
Nicolas swept his wand in an ark, deflecting another barrage of well-aimed stunners and schoolyard spells.
"You're getting better, Harry, Nicolas encouraged. "Just don't ever let arrogance rule your moves."
Day-after-day, Nicolas repeated that lesson, and Harry was beginning to roll his eyes.
Nicolas promised himself that if Harry rolled his eyes tomorrow, he'd slap the little tike upside the head.
"Hello, sir!"said Harry.
They were sitting in Nicolas' study, in comfortable armchairs.
It was austere in its grandeur, the painted portraits in their gilded frames looking down on them.
"Harry, my boy!"said Albus Dumbledore. "How's this old man treating you?"
Harry laughed.
"Just fine, sir, just fine."
"Glad to hear it, Harry, Dumbledore said. "However, Nicolas and I have some private matters to discuss. So, would you mind giving us a moment alone?"
Dumbledore smiled, his blue eyes twinkling behind half-moon spectacles.
Harry nodded and got up, the seat releasing him with a soft "puff of leather.
Once Harry had left the room, Dumbledore said: "It was not wise to take Harry away from Godric's Hollow all those years ago, Nicolas."
"Albus," Nicolas said. "Do you have any idea what those muggles would have done to him?""
"Yes, Nicolas, sighed Dumbledore. "I do."
"And you would condemn Harry to that?""
"At the time, said Dumbledore, "that appeared to be the best coarse of action to take, where Harry was concerned.
The wards that I had planned to put up, in the event of the Potter's death..."
Nicholas cut him off: "So you planned all this, Albus? Down to the last detail?"
"I knew this would happen, Nicolas. The prophecy decreed it."
"Prophecy?"Nicolas scoffed. "You are putting your faith in a prophecy?"
"As would you, Dumbledore said, "if you knew the contents."
"Maybe, Nicolas conceded, "but I can't let that happen to Harry. He has become the child I never could have."
Dumbledore gazed mournfully at the expression on Nicolas' face.
"I am aware of that, said Dumbledore. "That is why, against my better judgment, I have entrusted young Harry to your care."
"However can I repay you, said Nicolas, sarcastically.
"By looking after the boy," replied Dumbledore, sharply.
The door twitched as Harry leaned against it.
He drew in a sharp lungful of breath, for fear of detection.
Indeed, the voices had stopped altogether, and Harry expected a silencing ward of some sort.
"When do you plan to tell Harry about this supposed prophecy, Albus?"
"When he is old enough, my friend," Dumbledore replied, running his hand tiredly through his silver hair, which had once been of the richest auburn.
"And when'll that be?"Nicholas wanted to know.
"When the time is right, said Dumbledore, with a note of finality.
OOOOO
Harry's birthday was spectacular, in his opinion. The Delacour's had shown up, the eldest daughter, Fleur, who was fourteen, clutching figuratively at the mother's skirts, her eyes looking nervously around.
Harry spotted Fleur and grinned.
"Hello, Fleur, Harry said, shyly.
"'Arry?" Fleur said, a note of sensual delight, completely missed by Harry, lacing her melodious voice. "'ow 'ave you been?"
"Fine, muttered Harry, bashfully.
"Zat is good, no?""
Fleur kissed him on both cheeks and handed him her gift.
When Harry opened the wrapping, he found a jewelry box, with a friendship-ring inside.
The diamond set in the center of the silver band caught the candle light, making it sparkle, just like Fleur's eyes.
Harry hugged her in thanks, and Fleur beamed.
"Eet is only a pleasure, 'Arry," she said, helping Harry put the ring on.
"Good lad, Nicolas said to Perenelle. "He has managed to bag a veela."
Perenelle swatted his arm lightly, her blue eyes alight with amusement.
"Don't look at me," she muttered.
"Well," commented Dumbledore. "It does seem like Harry does have fine taste in his women."
"Indeed," murmured Nicolas. "Not many people can resist Fleur's charm, and our Harry here can."
"One of the reasons why young Ms. Delacour hangs around Harry, I presume?"
"Wouldn't put it passed her," Nicolas agreed.
Harry sliced downward, the layers of his birthday cake parting. He had blown out the eleven candles that dominated the snitch-shaped cake.
Nicolas and Perenelle smiled proudly, as they took photographs, to record this moment to look at, for when their Harry was at Hogwarts.
OOOOO
Perenelle lead him by the hand, as they navigated their way through the busy streets of Diagon Alley.
Harry's inquisitive eyes gazed all around him, enraptured by the many magical occurrences around him.
He observed how someone rode on a broom, apparently testing its capabilities and overall speed.
Harry tilted his head back to watch the rider descend and alight gently in front of 'Quality Quidditch Supplies,' and bask in the applause of his admirers.
"He's good," muttered Harry in awe.
Unfortunately for Harry, Perenelle had not yet let him fly on a broom, so he was looking forward to the flying lessons Dumbledore had told him about that would take place this year at Hogwarts.
Harry stared at the goblins in fascination, but turned away hastily when they leered at him unpleasantly.
"Don't mind them," Perenelle reassured him. "Goblins like to assert their authority."
Once the goblin teller saw who was there, he did a doubletake.
"Mrs. Flamel?" the goblin asked, looking at Perenelle enquiringly.
"I need to visit Harry Potter's vault," she replied, curtly.
"I have a vault?" Harry asked, sounding shocked.
"A trust vault," Perenelle confirmed.
After a memorable cart ride, they reached the surface. Harry held a sack full of galleons and looked as if Christmas had come early.
"Now, now, Harry," Perenelle cautioned. "Spend wisely, okay?"
Harry nodded and they approached Flourish and Blots.
The booklist that Dumbledore had given him yesterday was consulted.
"Only three extra books," Perenelle said, tolerantly.
Harry nodded and chose:
offence and defense for beginners by Jim Sterling; The guide to dueling strategy by Dromilus Peverus; and The art of basic healing by Amanda Drovern-brokenwell.
Ever since the age of nine, when Harry had broken his arm, he had had a slight interest in the art of healing.
Perenelle, who had some experience in healing, had backed him up on this and had encouraged him to pursue this line of knowledge.
Harry left the shop, straining under the weight of his books.
"Oleander s next, right?" Harry asked, eagerly.
"Yep," Perenelle smiled at him.
"Ah, Mr. Potter!" Ollivander said, scaring the blazes out of Harry. "And Mrs. Flamel."
Perenelle chuckled.
"Three guesses as to what my wand is, Mr. Ollivander."
"I will not even endeavor to guess, Mrs. Flamel."
"Thought not," she said through her chuckles.
Harry tried wand after wand, and settled on the Holly and Phoenix feather core.
He shuddered as he remembered Ollivander's blank eyes peering at Harry, as he told him the story of how he had sold the brother wand that had given Harry the scar.
"Voldemort," Harry whispered, the word rebounding inside his skull, over and over.
"Voldemort, the murderer of my parents."
OOOOO
"Think you're something special, now that you've got a wand?" Nicolas mocked.
Harry shot a stinging hex at Nicolas, who let it hit him.
Unfortunately, he misjudged and he found that he had an engorged nipple.
To the accompaniment of Harry's giggles, he ran out of the room to go find some healing sav.
"Bugger!"
Harry cursed as his new owl, Hedwig, bit him.
"You have to go in the cage, till we get to Hogwarts!" he told her.
Nursing his throbbing index finger, he managed to coax Hedwig into her cage, where he closed the little door with a clang.
"I'll let you out soon," he promised her.
Hedwig hooted in disbelief, and Harry smiled reassuringly at her.
"Well, Mr. Boy-who-lived," said Nicolas. "Are you ready to train to be the next Dark Lord?"
"Not funny," Harry deadpanned.
The press had been hinting that Harry Potter was secretly training to be a Dark Lord, what with his sudden disappearance.
They stood on the platform, in front of the scarlet steam engine, Nicolas' hand on Harry's shoulder.
"I'm going to drop the glamour on three, Harry," murmured Perenelle, soothingly.
Grimacing, Harry nodded for her to do so.
Harry felt the slight push-and-pull sensation he associated with a dispelling glamour.
"Well," said Nicolas. "I guess this is it for a few months."
"Don't be such a pansy, Nick," Harry said, trying to lighten the mood.
"No," said Perenelle. "Nick is right."
She sniffled slightly, before wiping her nose on a handkerchief.
"You behave yourself, young man!" Nicolas tried to sound stern, but ended up failing miserably.
"Don't you worry about me," Harry said. At their expressions, he added: "Well... Not too much."
Perenelle and Nicolas smiled, before they wrapped him in a tight hug.
"Thanks for... you know... everything," said Harry, sincerely.
"You're always welcome, Harry," they said in unison.
"Well, goodbye, then," Harry muttered, before the whistle blew.
A/N:
I hate the fact that this first chapter turned into such a clich .
I will try to make amends in the future.
Rest assured, the next chapter will be longer than this little piece of work.
Thanks to Psychoyoshi79 for his help.