Disclaimer: I don't own Harry James Potter, even in my dreams. Nor do I own Dungeons and Dragons, even though I only cherry picked a few deities.
A Baetylus is a stone imbued with the power of life, often used as an idol in Rome and Greece.
The Power of Life= Light Magic
Also additional warnings for: Nervous Malfoy with a brain (AKA NON-Canon Draco), a Ron with Anger Issues (AKA Canon Ron), A Bibliophile Hermione who likes authority (AKA Canon Hermione) and an attempt at an Albus who actually cares (Really depends on your view of Canon for this one), Slice of Divinity
divine point of view
Let the Games Begin
Harry Potter and the Baetylus
Harry James Potter was seven years old when his uncle abandoned him in the Forest of Dean in the middle of summer, and yes he was quite aware he was being abandoned thank you very much. It wasn't like Vernon had made any sort of secret of it that he most definitely wasn't going to come back. He had even taken all of his clothing and left it there with him, and told him that he had to be grateful that Vernon was even allowing such 'kindness' to a 'freak'. 'If I am such a freak then at least I should be glad I'm not an ass too,' Harry had thought to himself bitterly as he took in his surroundings.
Harry quickly thought back to the survivalist shows that his cousin, Dudley, and Vernon had liked watching and recalled foggily about how they had made a shelter. "I need shelter, and then food," he said to no one in particular, and so he started scouting the area around him he found a piece of flat land, wood, and a few vines of ivy. 'It won't be perfect,' he thought as he set to building a temporary shelter, 'but it will have to do until I can do better.' It had taken him only five tries to get a shelter that hadn't blown over at the slight winds that escaped through the trees of the forest, and he continued building it until he could no longer find objects to help. The shelter was a lean-to made of wood and vines that had sticks proping it up for extra support. It wasn't a perfect, or even acceptable, shelter for someone his age but it would have to do. 'Now it's on to food,' he thought before taking a bite out of a foxglove plant, 'these were the non-poisonous ones, right?'
The second morning, Harry woke up surrounded by his own vomit. The taste in his mouth and the tear streaks on his face were a good indication of what he had been doing. 'That answers my question about fox glove,' he thought bitterly as he left his lean-to to gather sticks for a fire, 'Maybe if I'm lucky I'll find something good to eat.'
Gathering wood, and finding a few mushrooms upon his way out from his... home... shelter he continued to walk. Struggling up a tree infested hill he eventually passed into a clearing. It was a stone monument with a roof that was held up by marble pillars, and in the centre was a small black and shining stone that stood on a pedestal. He walked over, as though in a trance, and touched it. Suddenly, he felt faint. Darkness was creeping up his consciousness as he thought, 'the stone's disappearing.'
'Magic grows once more,' an errant thought of a somewhat sleeping dragon-god spun through the world. Power infused his tall golden form, even as he sat upon his divine throne. 'Magical beings will grow strong once more... The Answer is here... Perhaps a token to this child though, for his life will be far from easy, that shard of what isn't his can be gone as it will not affect the workings of Fate too much.'
The god sent the merest thread of it's power down to the mortal plain and plucked the string of fate attached to the boy, separating the shard from the boy without taking its power away from the Answer to his Question. He'd need the power later, after all. The area where the shard was left bled slightly, but the god was unconcerned. 'All is well,' the being thought happily.
Harry woke up to the sounds of the third morning inside the stone monument, the roof deflecting any light. Stretching out his arms and opening his eyes he smiled and rolled over before looking around for the odd black stone he'd found there. 'That's odd,' he thought, 'I can't find it.' Searching around, all he found were his glasses, which should have been on his face. Startled, the young boy waved a hand in front of his face, showcasing now perfected vision. "This day couldn't get any weirder," he whispered softly to himself, not noticing the patch of dried blood on the stone. "I'm going to gather some leaves for bedding and the shirt Uncle left me. Then I will come back here and live." That decided, he walked back to the lean-to, gathering sticks along the way
Quickly the boy walked to the Lean-to and efficiently gathered his belongings, "I guess it's true what they say, you really can move up in the world," he joked to himself dryly. Travelling swiftly to the monument that had become his home he smiled. Even as he walked inside the dark room, surrounded by trees and covered by stone as it was, he felt much better than he had at the Dursleys, and he had even managed to grab a mushroom to eat. 'Even alone, life is better than with the Dursleys.'
He slowly curled up on his stone floor, unknowingly next to the blood stain, and fell into a deep and comforted sleep as he decided he'd make
The ancient dragon-god smiled as the power was expelled, the Baetylus' merging was a success. Smiling still, the divinity turned his eyes to the wizarding world. Reaching down with a portion of his power he touched the dragons and granted them a boon. 'Intelligence for my creatures,' he thought, 'More intellect than before at least.'
Upon the dawning of the fourth day after he was abandoned, icy rain poured down from the heavens like an avalanche of water. Harry's shelter, home, he called it in his head, kept him dry enough. Even dry Harry felt the cold chill in the air though. It was as though a barrier was in place between the pillars, secretly protecting anything within from environmental danger, but not the freezing cold. Secretly he smiled at the thought of a magical barrier, though desperately hoping one was there to keep out the cold and heat and the weather. How else would a shrine-like monument continue to exist into today? Harry was far from stupid, he recognised the style of building to be Roman or Greek. 'This building would have to be thousands of years old,' he contemplated to himself. He quickly smiled at the open air, and decided to fall asleep, hoping for a day he could go out to gather more mushrooms. He didn't even notice as the air warmed up, or the shimmer that appeared between the pillars before it died down.
The god frowned slightly as he woke Rhiannon, the fae goddess of the moon. He had never really gotten along with the overly playful goddess. As the god of dragons, he never quite understood the ability to play around.
"Bahamut. It is time?" She asked the ancient deity before she looked down upon the earth. "It is time." She reached down upon the earth, to the fairy folk and begot them a boon, "intellect and magical power," was all she said before whirling away to her throne.
Bahamut knew that the green god, who Rhiannon had claimed as her own, hadn't dared sleep, even as he queen slumbered. 'I must wonder what he has been up to,' thought the dragon god before going upon his way.
The fifth day was better than the fourth, if only because it was simply very foggy out. There was warmth within the monument home, but not outside he found as he shivered slightly from the early morning chill. Wondering out and about once more, and stumbling along the way, he gathered mushrooms and cloud-berries to eat and attempted to find dry wood for a fire. Attempted, and failed miserably as everything seemed muddy or at the very least soaked to the core. He sighed as he went back to his monument home, were he placed the wood upon the stone floor, and simply hoped that he'd survive. 'I just wish I had a fire,' he thought. A crackle pulled his thoughts as fire burst into existence upon the wet woods he had managed to bring back. 'Thank you,' he thought, gracious for the help he'd been no doubt given by a higher power of some sort. 'This is now my home,' was his last conscious sentence.
In an old stone castle in Scottland where four hundred students learned magic, an old man felt a chill right before a trinket wailed. This man, Albus Dumbledore, was the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and he most definitely looked the part. From his long white beard to his deep sapphire robes, which he'd happily tell you he received from Minerva McGonagall, and the pointed sapphire hat upon his head he looked every part the wizard he was. He had even reached an incredible age at one hundred and five, which certainly put him on the right side of death even for a wizard.
Albus's eyes widened greatly as he realised what the trinket was tied to, the wards surrounding Harry James Potter had fallen. He had been worried over the last few days to note they had been weakening, but for them to break... "Phineas, tell Minerva that we have trouble and to meet me in my office now!" He yelled to the portrait, his face lined with worry and concern. It wasn't long before he heard the rushing footsteps of his Deputy Headmistress and possibly the only one more concerned for Harry Potter than he was. Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, walked into the office. Her face pale and unwrinkled with red cheeks from running up several floors, her black hair disorderly from the wind but at a little over 50 she was still middle aged for a witch.
"What's the matter Albus?" Minerva asked before she recognised the wailing sound of the trinket, "What is that noise?" She looked over to the trinket before silencing it with a wave of a wooden stick. "Now, what is the problem?"
"That device monitored the wards at Number Four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey," Albus informed his deputy, "Harry Potter is either dead, or no longer living there. If he is alive, it'd be easy to recreate the wards where he live, but we must leave right away."
"Indeed!" McGonagall exclaimed, already half-out the door, "Hurry up, Albus! We haven't got all day!"
It didn't take long, mere minutes to be exact, before the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress were rushing out of the wards, having forgotten that Phoenixes weren't inhibited by wizarding magic. As soon as they cleared the wards they disappeared with near silent cracks, reappearing in an empty alleyway in Little Whinging before transfiguring their clothing into suitable muggle attire.
Walking up the walkway to Number Four Privet Drive was an enlightening experience, to say the least, as the whole street seemed to have not changed in the least in the six years since they had come and dropped the boy off. Indeed, the only things that seemed new around the area were that the lines upon the streets had been touched up recently, according to McGonagall's sharp eyes. She also noticed that no muggles were wearing clothing that resembled Milan fashions from the last five years, and thus she'd stand out in an extreme way as she was wearing a pair of Gucci shoes matched to a Prada bag and a long Versace dress in black. 'Maybe I should stop watching those fashion shows, but they're so addictive,' McGonagall thought as she got admiring looks from housewives along the way to their destination. Walking further and finally finding Number Four, McGonagall walked up and knocked on the door. Opening the door was a short, thin woman with blonde hair and watery blue eyes. She wore a plain black dress and dull black shoes, with a laced black hat on, and carried a black handkerchief which was wet with tears.
"Hello," Petunia Dursley nee Evans said in a watery tone, "How can I help you?" She tried to stay calm, even as tears ran down her face. He nephew, Harry, had been missing for five days and Vernon said he ran away.
"Mrs. Dursley, I am Professor McGonagall, and this is Headmaster Dumbledore. May we come in?" The woman, Minerva, asked.
"Of course... maybe you can help find him. I've already asked the police to look for him, but they can't find him. They said he probably ran away early in the morning and could be in London by now," Petunia rambled in her nervous and watery tones, worry evident in her voice.
"Don't worry Mrs. Dursley, everything will be fine. Why don't you tell us about Harry?" Dumbledore asked, soothing the poor, frayed woman.
"Well, Harry was a bubbly child," She started, "Until this year. His seventh birthday is in a week you know, and I was going to bake a cake. Sugar free, just the way he likes it. This year it has been tense in the house, with his accidental magic flaring more than often Vernon was getting angry at him. I managed to deflect it, it's not Harry's fault he doesn't have the same control as my sister. Lily had wonderful control, but I digress. It was this year I was going to teach Harry about the Magical world, I had even gone into Diagon Alley the day he had disappeared to get some books on theory and history for him, but when I got back he wasn't here. All his clothes were gone, and I couldn't find him. His bedroom had even been emptied of his clothing, we all get second hand clothes as they are cheaper you know, and Dudley had been with Piers Polkiss down the street and hadn't seen Harry at all that day." She took a deep breath before continuing, "Vernon said he ran away when I got there, but I have to wonder what happened to make him run away. I want you to find out, please."
"We'll do it," McGonagall said, before Dumbledore could even speak, "Albus, get your wand ready we are going to do the House Memory spell."
"Agreed," Dumbledore said, pulling out his wand.
The witch and wizard moved to opposing sides of the room before waving their wands upwards and to the four corners of the house. Together they chanted, "Ostende Memoriae, Veritatum Revelare!" A cloudy white haze released from their wands, forming into a large man and a young child.
"Boy," an echoing voice issued from the large man, "We're going on a trip. Get all your clothes, it's going to be a long, long way."
"Yes, Uncle," the young boy said, suspicions haunting the echoes tone. They watches as the echo moved up the stairs, coming down with a suitcase of clothing, "Where are your clothes? Or Dudley's? And Why isn't Aunt Petunia coming?"
"Don't ask Questions!" the spell ended as the three adults looked in shock.
"Vernon took him away," Petunia cried, sobbing her tears and sorrow, "My nephew is gone, and it's all his f-fault." Her face was ruddy with tears, and her expression was one of shock and confusion, "How could someone do this to a child?"
"That's what I'd like to know," McGonagall said, even as her face showed shock.
"We can find him though," Albus said, "We can find him, and we'll put Vernon behind bars. For now though, we need something of his."
"I have his old blanket, I was planning to put it in a scrapbook for when he went to Hogwarts. We can use that, right?" Petunia verbally grasped for a straw.
"Yes, we should be able to," Albus said, smiling for the first time that day, "Now let's hurry, he could be anywhere."
'I don't have much time left, I need to awaken the others,' Bahamut thought, looking at the wizards, 'I must awaken Muglubiyet now.' He had been searching the heavens for days for the gods hidden throne, hoping that the Goblin deity would be there, but had failed to find him. Finally, he'd go to Gringotts, the Goblin Stronghold, and find him.
Far away in Faerie, the radiant goddess of the moon held court for the first time in a thousand years and welcomed her two subordinates into her hall.
"Titania, Maeve, I do hope you and your sidhe's have been well," the Goddess said, her smile brightening the powers and auras of the fae.
"Yes my lady, we awaited your return and never gave up hope even after that day," the two twin fae said. Titania, a golden embrace of warm light magic, while her sister held the cold heat of the deadly darkness.
"The fae, and even the fairy's, are going to grow once more. I am here," Rhiannon declared.
Hecate awoke once more with a start, having come and gone from sleep many times in the last thousand years. Having first woken five hundred years previously, when they were to have found the answer, she had looked up her domain, the magics of humans. She had been appalled at the time, the world had lost so much and it had only been five hundred years. She quickly shaped up a few things, helped a man create a magical stone, and left to sleep for a decade. And again awoke ten years after, waking with her was the Goblin god Muglubiyet. After seeing that even a decade was too much for magic users to be on their own, the two decided to stay awake and push things to keep the world moving. They had even given some extreme gifts. Mug had given Ragnok Immortality, and she herself had given Albus Dumbledore extreme power.
Now she looked upon the world and smiled, touching the answer they had waited for with her presence as he slept. 'This is the one who will save this world,' she thought even as he tossed in his makeshift bed. She smiled at the sleeping boy before looking over her domain and frowning at those who slumbered there. She touched them, all the wizards and witches, and gave them a bit of common sense. 'A deities job is never done,' she thought as she gave an extra dose to the children who'd lead the next generation.
The sixth morning of Harry's abandonment it was warm, and sunny, possibly a first in the history of Britain. Seeing the possibly temporary weather conditions, Harry decided to attempt gathering food. First he went to the bushes where he'd found the berries. Finding an abundance of cloud-berries, they were a little tart, Harry smiled knowing that at least he wouldn't starve to death.
Along the way back home, he found mushrooms to balance his diet. As he picked, he felt the first raindrops on his hands and grimaced. He swiftly walked back to the monument to eat his breakfast meal and decided to lay out his clothes for a bed and lounge as he watched the rain. The rain poured down, hitting invisible walls as Harry rested his eyes. He would need to conserve energy if he wasn't going to be eating again that day. "I hope I can live without eating much," was all he said before falling asleep.
"So you found his magical trace in the Forest of Dean?" Albus asked Minerva, having trapped Vernon in a transfigured trunk.
"Yes, and no," Minerva answered, and upon seeing two confused looks she expanded, "His signature has changed since he left, and all of it seemed to have happened four days ago."
"What does that mean," Petunia asked as she sipped her tea nervously, "Is it that his environment has changed, or something more?"
"Magical Signatures change upon extreme happenings, such as light or dark rituals and magical maturations at ages 15, 17, and 25. As he isn't old enough, we must conclude that some ritual happened," Albus said, wisely, "or that somehow he's become something other than human, or that he's assimilated a magical object, or that he's drank from the fountain of youth... Or that's he's completed a ritual."
"He doesn't know about the magical world though," Petunia pointed out.
"Oh yeah," Albus said, as though a light flickered on in his head that read Common Sense, "Well that covers that thought. Have you found any emanations?"
"Oh... ummmm... let's see," Minerva reached into her sleeve and pulled out a file. Scanning it quickly she said, "three, a barrier spell, a fire spell, and a heating charm. All seem normal for someone stuck in a forest, and the last magic that he used before the change was... a healing spell to remove poison?"
"He might have eaten foxglove," Petunia said, "its all around the Forest."
"Indeed, or he could have been poisoned by Vernon," Albus said, looking pointedly at the trunk, "Maybe we should check..." He ended ominously.
"Perhaps we should," Minerva agreed, a mischievous grin upon her face.
"Well, I guess it won't hurt anything," Petunia said, "but no torture."
"What do you call the trunk?"
"Not nearly enough punishment," Petunia dead-panned.
"I like her," Minerva said with a smile.
Muglubiyet woke, as he did most mornings. In bed, in corporeal form, within the Goblin nations shrine to him. He would be the first to admit he wasn't the most powerful deity, or the most creative, but his Goblins loved him so he'd love them as well. Grinning, even as he ascended to the Divine Sphere, he went to work. Today he'd be reinforcing the motto of Gringotts of 'Strength through Loyalty'. It'd simply be Loyalty to the laws of the Goblins, instead of Wizards.
Reaching the sphere, Muglubiyet centred his divine essence before allowing a slight bit of it to reach throughout the world and touch the magic of his Goblins. With a focussed mind he shouted, "Loyalty to Goblins! Loyalty to the Nation! Uphold our Laws!" and implanted the ideas within the magical matrix that created the creatures. 'Life is good for the Divine,' he thought, settling back into corporeal form.
Bahamut looked upon the Goblin god, and realised he had expected him to break the rules laid down. Still a little sore due to it, he went onto the last Goddess, Freya of the Elves.
The Seventh Morning, it had been an even week of abandonment by his Horrid Uncle Vernon, which meant it was four days till he was actually Seven. Harry was happy, although it was storming so he couldn't go get food. He was always without food whenever Vernon was watching him though so he would be fine not gathering. "I just wish I had something to eat everyday though."
Harry rolled over, just as a cloud-berry hit him, and another. Harry's eyes went wide as he saw the pile of tens of cloud-berries. He couldn't believe himself as he reached out and grabbed it, "It's real," He said to himself, "It's really real." He took a bite, "I can't believe it, I can eat all of them." He smiled as he contemplated what it meant. His wish had been fulfilled, again. 'Could it be me whose doing this,' he thought as he ate the tart berries.
"We caught him, summoning and duplication charm," Minerva said, "Looks like he'll be a charmer when he grows up. James would be sore about that."
"I think Filius will be thrilled," Dumbledore rebutted as he conjured brooms for his two compatriots, "Let's get flying. We'll be at his location before you know it."
"Will this fly for a muggle?" Petunia asked, right before it lurched up into the air causing her to scream.
"That answers your question," Minerva said, laughing as they flew in the clouds.
"Let's away, fast as we can," Dumbledore said, "Who knows if Harry is getting enough to eat, or if he is frigid cold in this weather."
Cernunos frowned at the intrusion he felt within his forest before he sent a small awareness to the Answer who hid there, and then hid himself again. The Green God rather liked his anonymity, and would keep it up until his queen called for him.
'Are people coming here?' he questioned himself as he felt something shift upon the air, 'and if so, shall I hide and see them unseen, or shall I reveal myself to them and speak to them.' After a few seconds of deliberation he thought, 'I shall observe first.' "I wish to be unseen and unheard," he said as he hoped it would happen, if only to prove himself somewhat sane. Within seconds he felt as though someone had cracked a raw egg open upon his head, like yolk slipping down his body in a slick and sticky mess. 'I must confirm this,' he thought. He ran swiftly to the clearest puddle of water and looked down into it only to see nothing staring back at him. 'So, my wishes come true,' he thought before smiling mischievously, 'I wonder if it has a limit.'
Harry watched the skies as three people descended... and gaped. 'You've got to be kidding me. Brooms?'
Hecate smiled at her Answer as he figured out his magic. He must have been the youngest one to do so in fifty years. 'He's not even anything like that Tom boy,' the deity thought, remembering the last screw up of the Wizarding World. 'At least this one isn't obviously evil.'
As Albus, Minerva and Petunia descended not so calmly next to the area Harry was supposed to be in as a flare of magic crossed the two magicals senses.
"Disillusionment?" Minerva asked, nearly unbelieving of her own senses. "In one so young?"
"It appears so, but how?" Albus questioned, looking straight at the disillusioned Harry Potter.
Harry saw the piercing blue eyes of the old man upon him, even as he saw his aunt looking between the two. 'I'll allow them to bring me home, but only if they find me,' he thought before making his next wish. "I wish they'd turn around," He called silently, almost surprised when the three suddenly turned their heads away from him. "I wish the Monument was invisible." A chill wrapped the monument like a cloak before the whole building shimmered out of sight. Harry, who felt exhaustion pour through his veins, smiled as he crawled over to the other side of the pillars and promptly fell asleep.
"I can't believe we fell for that," Minerva said, embarrassment creeping up her face in a rouge hue as she turned back around, " An over powered notice me not. Seriously!"
"I feel ashamed," Dumbledore mumbled, "To be beaten by a first year trick."
"At least I'm not alone in that," Petunia laughed, "It's kind of like saying 'look, a blibbering humdinger'."
"What's a Blibbering Humdinger?" Minerva asked the younger woman, her eyes sceptical.
"I actually don't know," Petunia replied, "but it was in one of Lily's favourite magazines, called the Quibbler. She wanted to find one after she graduated, I think she succeeded but she couldn't speak English for a week so I never found out."
"Why didn't you ask her afterwards?"
"She could finally speak English only on the night she died."
"I'm so sorry," Minerva said, tears leaving her eyes, "I miss Lily and James so much. I still can't believe they're gone sometimes. I almost expect James and Sirius to come in for their lessons in Mastery Transfiguration, and see Lily going to Filius' room."
"I expect her to come over for tea on Sunday's and tell me about her week," Petunia confessed, sobbing into her hands.
"I seem to think they'll be coming over to talk over lemon tea every week," Dumbledore said, "and that I should get new robes for the occasion. Enough of that though, we have to get Harry home and Vernon in jail."
"Agreed," the two women said, tears still running down their faces.
"Now... where did the monument go?" Albus asked, looking at the apparently empty place in front of him.
"Did he vanish it?" Minerva asked, placing her hand where a pillar would be, "Ah, no, it's still there. He's made it invisible, or perhaps simple unnoticeable."
"Well, we'll need to see it to get Harry so... a Finite Incantatum and a Homenum Revelio? Let's say on three?" Albus asked the professor of Transfiguration.
"Of course, now One... Two..." They raised their wands to the structure.
"Finite Incantatum, Homenum Revelio," Magic raced down the wands of the two mages, causing a structure to shimmer in and out of view.
"Odd, did we say it wrong Minerva?"
"Perhaps, maybe mixing two spells weakens their power?"
"Finite may have weakened Homenum? Maybe. Let's try again," Dumbledore said, holding out his wand. "Finite Incantatum." Followed a few seconds later, after the monument was semi-visible, "Homenum Revelio." A ping, a single ping sounded. They looked around the semi-visible monument, only to find a place where they couldn't see the stone.
"There he is, do you think he'll want to come home with me after what Vernon did," Petunia asked, looking at the two mages. "I didn't even know what was happening. I should have looked closer."
"It isn't your fault. I shouldn't have relied on the wards for everything," Dumbledore admitted, "I should have gotten a team from Gringotts to layer the wards in a way only Goblins know how."
"No, we should have taken Petunia and Dudley into the magical world and immersed them from the start," Minerva argued, "I should have pointed that out that night instead of simply obeying."
"It doesn't matter whose fault it is, but it appears Harry is asleep. We should take him home to bed," Petunia said, "I moved him into the attic a few days before Vernon took him so Harry would have extra space. I was going to turn Harry's old room into a home office so that I could do my Real Estate business from there."
"Okay, we need to be very careful. He can't think we are trying to hurt him or he'll lash out," Dumbledore said, "Locomotor Corpus," the pocket of invisibility rose slightly.
"So, a field of invisibility? That's good," Minerva said, "I wasn't able to do that until I was 16."
"Yes, and I imagine it's why he seems to be sleeping instead of attacking us, it takes more energy than a simple disillusionment."
"Why would he attack?" Petunia asked, "I'm his aunt, and you two will eventually be his teachers."
"Ah, while it's true that you're his aunt," Dumbledore said smiling at his rare lucky streak of Common Sense, "but he might feel threatened by the two of us who he doesn't know. I believe Minerva and I will be at his birthday party this year. I feel it's only right that he knows of everything now rather than be thrust into all of it when he's eleven."
"A good idea, after all he has shown very strong magic today," Minerva said, "he'll need to learn control, so that no accidents happen."
"Agreed," Petunia said, "and maybe there will be fewer incidents of blue haired teachers."
"You'll have to tell me about that one," Minerva said, "I have a few stories I could tell you too."
Hecate watched her people, inspiring healers to make new medicines and potions makers to create elixirs. She was happy.
Bahamut, God of Dragons, finally found the Elven Goddess. She was, of course, in a forest, asleep. "Hey, Freya," He called to the more serious counterpart of the Fairy Goddess Rhiannon, "Wake up."
"I'm awake already," she called back from her bed, "I simply don't wish to get out of bed. I'll look over my elves from here, don't worry."
"Alright then," he said, disappearing to the highest sphere now that his job was done.
"Finally," Freya said, "He's gone." She smiled victoriously before dispersing into essence and coating the world as she searched for her elves. She didn't like what she found. Her creations had been subjugated and demeaned, eventually transformed into small caricatures of themselves. Frowning in thought, she eventually settled on her plan. "Intellect, Power, Freedom," she said, pouring her magic into each of her creatures, "These are the things I grant you, my ancient friends."
Many things had changed since the 7 days he'd been abandoned in the forest. Petunia had divorced Vernon, right before calling the cops on him for Child Abuse and Endangerment. Since then Dudley, who had been bullying Harry since he was 6, had been forced into Anger Management with a mind healer at St. Mungo's.
Dumbledore and McGonagall had come to pay Harry a visit on his birthday four days after he returned to Privet Drive, sad to see that Harry wasn't eating much. 5 days of living on Berries and Mushrooms had permanently altered his diet, especially after his magical changes. He was now unable to stomach meat, which in turn caused Petunia to make much less of it. This, coupled with the mind healer, caused Dudley to lose ten pounds in the first week.
Dumbledore and McGonagall explained about the Wizarding World to him on his birthday, and Harry in turn turned their clothing a revolting shade of pink. Needless to say, Harry was rather annoyed that something that big was kept from him.
"Harry, wake up," Petunia called up the stairs to her eleven year old nephew, "You'll be late, your letter is already here."
Harry woke up the instant she said letter and had swung his 144 centimetre body off the bed , "Really, it's here already. I thought it'd come a week before my birthday."
"It's here, and we have a surprise too. Get Dudley up and come down stairs. Breakfast is ready and it'll get cold before he gets up on his own."
"Will do Aunt Petunia," Harry called back, walking down the stairs from the attic and turning left to the door to Dudley's room. He walked forth and knocked, "Dudders, wake up. Breakfast."
"Dunn wanna," came the mumbled reply from his cousin, who was 152 Centimetres.
"She made bacon for you."
"Getting up now!"
As they ate, and Petunia smiled, Harry was excited. Hogwarts was where his father and mother went.
"Harry, Dudley. I have important news today. Harry's Hogwarts Letter came, and Dudley... you were accepted on Scholarship to HedgeHill Academy," Petunia nearly squealed in her excitement.
"You mean I actually passed that test? I thought I had failed for sure!" Dudley exclaimed his surprise before blushing red. In the four years that had passed, Dudley had become rather scholarly. He had no way to bully, sports weren't his thing, so for four years he studied. He'd become an A student, like his cousin had been for 2 years previously. Conversely, Harry slipped down to a B average as he had to do magical control exercises. On the bright side, all Harry had to do to do magic was wish it.
"I'm so proud of you Dudders," Harry said with a smile.
"I'm proud of you too Harrykins," Dudley shot back, grinning from ear to ear.
"Let's get to Diagon Alley. Minerva flooed to say she'd meet us there," Petunia said, "We'll even stop at Fortesque's today."
"Yes!" the boys chorused in victory.
"So, Quirrell was possessed?" Albus asked of his school's medi-witch, Madam Poppy Pomfrey.
"Yes, except I managed to remove the spirits power, but I can't get it to leave his body. It can't control him anymore, but it has given him a... unique gift. Parseltongue," Poppy explained to her employer, "I believe the spirit heard that Flamel had given you the stone, but not that you refused it on the grounds of this being a school and not Gringotts."
"We'll have to send it to St. Mungo's then," Albus sighed, "Call in Healer Michael and add it to the Hogwarts Tab."
"Yes Albus," Poppy said, running about her duties.
"How did you get here Tom? How did you even find Quirrell?" Albus asked the comatose body, trying to make sense of how his Muggle-Studies teacher had been possessed by a Blood-Supremacist.
"Leaky Cauldron, here we are. Thanks for riding the Knightbus, fastest transportation in all of Britain," the conductor, Stan, said as Harry, Dudley and Petunia disembarked.
"Thank you Stan, Ernie," Harry said with a smile as his family attempted to regain the ability to speak without fear of vomit.
"No, thank you Harry," Stan said with a smile, "Come again soon."
"We'll be back tonight after shopping Stan, you know that," Harry said with a laugh as he led his Aunt and Cousin to the Cauldron.
"I swear he's been flirting with you since he started working there," Petunia grumbled good naturedly as she walked through the Cauldron's front door. She quickly reached for the pepper spray, spraying a few of the more grabby wizards and witches as they walked, "You've all seen him at least fifty times already," she said to them, her voice taking a deadly quality, "If I so much as see one of you attempt to grab him without permission again I'll get Albus."
"It's not like we're trying to kill 'im now is it?" One witch, who'd escaped being sprayed, asked rhetorically.
"It's not like I'm a Legilimense who knows that, now is it," Petunia shot back, causing the witch to back off in fear.
"Come on Aunt Petunia, we've better go and get what's on the list," Harry soothed.
"Yeah, and we've got to go see the Goblins yet," Dudley coaxed.
"Did you know Filius is half-Goblin," Petunia said, smiling, "He told me so during your last birthday."
"I don't want to know what my Aunt and Professor do outside of class," Harry whined, before grinning, "Did you know Hagrid is Half-Giant?"
"That's obvious, isn't it?" Petunia asked, "I mean with his height I expected it."
"Ditto," Dudley said, agreeing with his mother.
"Seriously, I figured there was troll blood, maybe, but not Giant Blood," Harry said, contemplating, "but then again part-Trolls tend to be stupid." He barely noticed one family look at him angrily, while the other families laughed at their expense and murmured things to the tune of, 'they've already got you pegged, eh?' The small family of three walked through the Cauldron and out the portal to the magical Diagon Alley, though not the Adjacent Alley or Knockturn Alley, or even Partial Alley where the Specialized shops lay.
They walked, swiftly and efficiently, to the marble and limestone building that denoted the Goblin Bank as they had done many times before in the years since Harry learned of magic. "Remember, don't insult the Goblins," Petunia reminded the duo before they entered the famous doors that were inscribed with the warning:
Enter Stranger,But take heed,
Of What awaits the Sin of Greed,
For those who take, yet do not earn,
must pay most dearly in their turn,
So if you seek beneath our floors,
A Treasure that was Never Yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware,
Of finding more than Treasure there.
"You'd have to be mad to want to rob a Goblin," Harry said, smiling at the Goblin guards around the doors of the bank, "Or to insult one," as he looked closely at the Goblin's rune inscribed weaponry. "I would imagine those runes tie in much more than a stunning spell."
The Goblins, far from being unfeeling, preened over the attention in the only way Goblins could. They grunted slightly, smiled savagely, and narrowed their eyes menacingly at the Wizard and two muggles.
They walked, as quickly as to be polite, to a Goblin's table where Harry said, "Hello, Teller Goblin, could I please make a withdrawal."
"Do you have your key?" the Goblin replied, bored with his day even as it started.
"Right here," Petunia said, grabbing the key out of a moleskin purse, causing the Goblin to sigh and call for a cart.
"Griphook will take you down. Have a nice day at Gringotts."
"Come with me," A gruff voice came from directly behind them, causing the three to jump slightly. "You're lucky, I just let Hagrid out of the cart earlier. You get a new cart because of that."
Muglubiyet looked out among his people in an astral form. Today was the day that their Answer came to Gringotts.
"You'd have to be mad to want to rob a Goblin," the Deity heard the Answer say, causing his astral energies to bounce excitedly, "Or to insult one. I would imagine those runes tie in much more than a stunning spell."
He watched as his people, his Goblin warriors, preened in their armour. 'It is odd how vain a race could be, when created by a war god,' the deity thought even as the actions amused him.
After spending half an hour in Gringotts, Harry went to Madam Malkins as Dudley and Petunia attempted not to retch up their breakfast at Florean's.
"Hogwarts Dear?" Asked a slightly plump, exceedingly short lady whose pale purple tone robes flowed down her body, as though liquid silk, "Right over here, we've got another setting up." She smiled as she stood him up next to a short blonde boy whose pointed face and pale eyes seemed to emphasize his pale skin. He stood upon his stool, looking rather interestedly at the robes that a witch was pinning to the correct length on him.
"Okay, please put this robe on and I'll pin it to length as quickly as possible," Malkin said with her bright smile. She waved her hand, conjuring a robe upon his body, "It took me years to learn wandless conjuration mind you, don't try it at home kids."
She got out her wand and waved it a few times, causing pins to appear, and sat down to work on the robe length.
"So... ummm... Hogwarts too?" The blonde boy said, slightly nervous in the face of wandless magic.
"Yes," Harry said, a smile on his face, "I hope to make Ravenclaw."
"I think Ravenclaw would be nice, but I want to be Slytherin. They have the best Dorm rooms apparently," the blond said, "I'm a bit nervous actually."
"Don't worry, nerves are just how the body operates when under stress," Harry said, "My names Harry, yours?"
"I'm Draco Malfoy," Draco answered back, he paused before saying, "I kind of wish my father had let me go with him to get the books though. I'm sure there are a few basic theory books for Potions I haven't read yet."
"I've read a lot of basic theory," Harry said smiling, "but for some reason I don't really get Potions."
"Don't worry, it's not hard to do a potions class unless you go for a masters level or something," Draco confided to the dark haired boy, "that's what my godfather told me, but then again he's a master of potions so maybe he doesn't count. Anyway, my mother is up the street looking at wands, what about yours?"
"My aunt and cousin are both a bit sick from the carts at Gringotts, but to be honest they get motion sickness a lot," Harry explained to the other boy. The unstated, 'My parents aren't alive any more,' was caught full in the face by the blonde who decided to leave it alone.
"So, are you a muggleborn or..." Draco started, blushing furiously at asking such a personal question.
"My mother and father were both mages of the light, if that is what you inquire," Harry said, evading the questions connotations with ease, "Yourself?"
"My mother is a grey witch, but my father is a dark wizard," Draco said, a weak smile in place, "My father wants me to be dark, but my magic is grey like my mothers. He hates it, and so is trying for a second son. My mother found out yesterday she was pregnant again, and is very happy about it."
"I hear grey mages will generally have better luck with charms and potions," Harry said, trying to cheer up the boy who seemed sad, "It seems like something to be proud of to me, not something to hate."
"Thank you," He said as he stepped off his stool, "I hope to sit by you on the train. Have a nice day."
"Good day Draco," Harry called.
"Oh the poor dear," the Madam said as she finished pinning Harry's robes, "He's a grey in a family that's ancestrally dark. He'll get no sympathy anywhere but the neutrals now."
"Don't we know it madam," agreed one of the witches working in the shop, who was currently sewing together a fashionably cut silver robe with emerald trim.
'He'll get sympathy from me,' Harry thought, strength in his convictions, 'I will befriend him.'
AN: This was an experimental writing, the combination of divinity and Harry Potter that has bugged my brain for a while. True Divinity and the changes they might make, instead of the Divinity that I had played with earlier at least. READ AND REVIEW.