Chapter 1: A blessing, not a curse. Part 2

The two turned their heads to face the voice slowly, both were still in the same position as
before, with Vernon's right hand up near Harry's face, finger still extended, and Harry just
standing stock still with his jaw down near his knees in shock. There, not more than twenty feet
away from them and getting nearer with large steps was a huge, scruffy looking man. He was a
colossus that towered over every car roof in the area, standing at least eight feet high...Well
maybe more, but Harry wasn't so sure.

He was dressed rather strangely, especially for summer, in a hairy coat, some sort of jeans like pants that Harry swore looked like scales, and a pair of large work boots that would swallow up two of the biggest of
Mrs. Figg's Maine Coon cats. The giant of a man carried a pink, of all colors for a man to have
on his person, umbrella in one hand and a white paper-like box that looked as if it had seen better
days in the other.

His head was covered in untamed hair which seemed to spread out over his face in the form of a
beard and moustache, but even with that amount of it growing there he couldn't hide the fact that
he was smiling and it was clearly seen in his sparkling beady eyes.

Vernon was the first of the two frozen individuals to recover from the shock and he quickly
composed himself, stepping in front of Harry to shield him from the view of this strange person
as he brought himself up to his full height.

‟I'm Vernon Dursley" he said, his right hand suddenly coming up to his chest level for the
stranger to shake. Even though his tone and movements were polite, it was obvious to Harry that
his Uncle was cautious, thus the protective stance he took in front of his Nephew.

The stranger didn't appear to like having his view of Harry cut off, but at the same time it seemed
he understood that Vernon was just keeping Harry out of trouble. He swiftly took Vernon's hand
and shook it with such force, Vernon almost fell forward when the shake was initiated and
stumbled back when his hand was released.

‟Rubeus Hagrid, keeper o' keys an' grounds at Hogwarts"

Vernon suddenly lit up as if Christmas had come early. ‟Really? Well then they weren't lying
when they said I couldn't miss you if I needed to find you in a crowd."

Vernon then told Hagrid all about the wizarding folk he was able to speak to, what he knew
about the wizarding world and then asked how they hadn't been approached by anyone, Muggle
or wizard, yet what with all the magic Harry has done in the last five minutes. Plus, Hagrid was
hard to miss and they were in the middle of number four's lawn talking of magic, while their
neighbors had their windows open.

‟Oh they don' hear much, Muggles, plus I've got a ward around me set by Dumbledore tha'
allows me to speak to yeh without bein' overheard. And as fer how they see us, same ward, but
they see me as a smaller bloke in a suit I reckon."

Both Vernon and Harry nodded in approval as Hagrid fiddled with his pocket watch.

He then turned his smiling beetle black eyes onto Harry, causing the boy to lock his glasses
shielded, teal eyes with Hagrid's black ones out of habit. He normally locked eyes with people he
wanted to check for lies or other signs of deceit, and this time it would leave him more confused
than if he had ignored the urge to 'see' inside the giant.

Harry didn't back away at the strange feeling the contact between their eyes gave him, but he did
flinch in brief pain. A memory popped up, not his own, of a young man who looked as if he
could very well be a teenaged version of the man who was now before them. In the quick
flashback of this memory, Harry was seeing him through the eyes of another teenager, who
appeared to have been quite happy to see the back of the other man; if the feeling of elation was
anything to go by. Young Hagrid looked tired or upset and was surrounded by cloaked people
who wanted to know why he did it, what ever 'it' was. When the young Hagrid looked over at the
'Harry' in the memory, there was pure hatred etched on his face.

Harry mentally shook off the flashback and noticed that he didn't appear to have missed anything
that was happening around him, almost as if the flashback only took but a second to play out.
Hagrid continued to smile down at Harry and then leaned forward to hand the boy the box he had
been carrying.

‟There yeh go Harry, sorry about the condition o' it, might've sat on it at one time or another I
think."

Harry slowly lowered his eyes to the box and reached out to take it. Carefully, he opened the lid
and was surprised to see a birthday cake with the words 'Happee Berthdae Harry' written on it.
At the moment, Harry didn't care if the words were misspelled or that he didn't know Hagrid at
all; he had a birthday cake, a real one, not a cupcake or some small thing that Vernon had to
smuggle in. Not that he didn't appreciate anything that Vernon got him, it was just that he had
the whole, big cake to himself now instead of worrying about how to make his little bit of treat
last as long as Dudley's.

‟Thank you" he breathed, looking up at both adults in awe. Vernon was happy from the looks of
it, mostly because now he could spend what ever he had on other things for Harry, like gifts
instead of just sweets, which should have been made by Harry's Aunt.

Hagrid shrugged indifferently, but Harry could tell he was proud of himself; he was blushing
after all.

‟Don' mention it, now I know yeh lot were headed over to Diagon Alley, which is why I'm here. I
need to let yeh in yeh see?"

He held up his umbrella so that the two could get a good look at it. In unison, Vernon and Harry
understood that it must house a wand, seeing as that was what opened the wall to Diagon Alley
from what they had heard.

Vernon made to open the door to the car as Hagrid stuffed his pocket watch back into his vest.
But before either one could do much more, a hand was laid on the shoulders of both Harry and
Vernon and with a loud crack, the three of them disappeared from view. To any of the Muggles
in the area that might have been watching, their memories would have instantly modified into
one where the three of them had just gotten into a cab and left.

They landed in the middle of a pub, one that Vernon recognized instantly as the Leaky Cauldron.
Many of his contacts had brought him here at one point or another to get him used to the magic
he would be around now that Harry would be training. Tom, the barkeep, looked up at the arrival
of the three people, and smirked at how two of them were attempting to shake off the effects of
Disapparating. One was Vernon, who was doubled over and trying to suck in large amounts of
air. The other was surprisingly enough, Hagrid. He wasn't as obvious about it as Vernon was, but
he still seemed rather uncomfortable.

Harry was just standing there off to the side of Hagrid and his Uncle; he didn't like feeling as if
someone was stuffing him into a straw, but it wasn't as bad as his Uncle was making it
seem...Was it? It felt different this time from when he had done it himself, though familiar still in that suffocating way. Harry reached out and helped Vernon stand up so that the three of them could
head into Diagon Alley and start their adventure.

If the boy had been paying any attention to Hagrid he would have noticed how the large man was
shocked at Harry's apparent familiarity with Apparition and the fact that the boy just seemed so
detached at times, almost as if he had done this or seen that too many times to be impressed by it.
But that just couldn't be, Harry wasn't around anyone magical and Vernon had already told
Hagrid that the boy wasn't allowed to interact with any of Vernon's contacts for safety reasons.

But Hagrid just shrugged it off as shock and lead the two others over to the entrance to Diagon
Alley. Maybe the Alley would get a response out of Harry. Sure enough, as soon as the wall
parted to reveal the Alley beyond it, Harry and Vernon adopted equal looks of pure awe and joy,
though Vernon acted more the child and squealed with delight as they entered.

Hagrid chuckled over at Harry, who caught the eye of the half-giant and smirked in return. But
the smirk soon wiped off the boy's face as he noticed that Hagrid's eyes had taken on a glazed
look, the look of someone that was strolling down memory lane. In the blink of an eye, Hagrid
flashed back to a memory that Dumbledore had shown him of a young Tom Riddle, the memory
of when Albus had come to notify the young man that he was a wizard. At one point, he had
smirked just like Harry was doing and their faces were almost identical.

Snapping back into reality, Hagrid looked about for his two charges and spotted them heading off
to Gringotts, with Vernon completely oblivious to the fact that Harry was worried, and Harry
looking back over his shoulder with looks of suspicion at Hagrid.

With a huff, the now irritated Grounds keeper followed them off to the bank; why did Harry's
smirk bring back the memory of 'that boy'? The more he thought about it, the more he noticed
that Harry didn't look at all too much like James or Lily, in fact, the boy looked more like a copy
of Tom Riddle at that age with glasses and teal eyes...And the scar...'Wait, the scar'.

When Hagrid leveled himself off with Harry, he glanced down at the boy's forehead in search of
the scar, it wasn't at all visible; where was the scar in the shape of a lightning bolt? Now Hagrid
was panicking. Harry Potter, the boy he was sent to fetch didn't look at all like he should, he
didn't have the right personality and he didn't have the scar, and to make matters worse, Hagrid
kept getting the feeling that Harry really knew more about the wizarding world than he should,
like having memories of things. He had seen the look on the boy's face when he introduced
himself, he had also not missed the look of pain that had crossed his features and now he found
himself seeking out those teal eyes in search of answers.

When he found the boy's eyes however, he suddenly didn't
remember anything that he had been thinking about previously, mainly, anything to do with
Harry Potter. It was almost like something had just cleared away all the thoughts, wiped away
any doubt...Wiped away who Hagrid thought Harry was. Like something was trying to sooth his fears...

In place of all the memories he had of his meeting with this boy and his guardian, new ones now took over. Everything being rewritten and replaced, edited to fit the timeline and locations.
Hagrid now believed Harry to be some kid named Harrison Tomas Chantt, whom
he had met at The Chantt House in Grypon's Point, which was where, at this very moment unknown to all else in the world, an oldish woman was now dying in a bed with a smile planted on her withering face.

Again, Hagrid slowly looked away from Harry and found Vernon running back toward them with his
pockets full of Muggle money to change and a piece of paper clamped firmly in one of his hands.
He waved it in front of Harry and did a dance.

‟You won't believe this, but I got ourselves a lawyer and he says I can divorce the old horse right now!
All I have to do is get her to sign it when she comes back and we will both be free of her!"

Vernon had seemed ecstatic at first, but now he took on the look of a man who knew he wouldn't
be allowed to see his son, and he voiced that much to Harry.

‟Well, it's not goodbye, I mean you can see him sometimes you know" Harry spoke so
nonchalantly about it all, that Vernon caught the same attitude, almost as if Harry had forced him
to feel better.

‟You're right you know, no need to get worked up about it...Lets go get you settled" Vernon pocketed the
paper and looked over at Hagrid for a moment, who looked lost and slightly confused. ‟You
alright there Hagrid?" he called.

Hagrid looked over at Vernon and then nodded swiftly. ‟O' course, I jus' was wonderin' where
Harry Potter is. He is suppose to be here too yeh know, I suppose I should pick him up an' brin' him
here...Head over to Gringotts an' get yer money, then do yer shoppin', it was nice to meet yeh
both. I really need to go get Harry Potter right now.."

And with that last parting gesture of waving goodbye, Hagrid set off at a trot to escape the Alley,
cursing himself for not noticing before that Harry Potter wasn't here; he shouldn't have been too busy introducing Mr Chantt and his Squib uncle to the Alley.

Vernon, who had the same memory replacing done to him the moment he really started to notice
that his Harry wasn't a Potter shortly before getting to the Alley today, didn't pay any attention to
the name 'Harry Potter', and thus didn't act odd when Hagrid ran off to fetch this child that was
standing next to him, although he and Harry both had wide eyes; Harry Potter was known as The-
Boy-Who-Lived and the thought that they would be seeing him now that he was beginning
school made them nervous.

Harry never heard the surname of Potter in the house and Vernon
never told him that he a Potter, even though Vernon had known, until now, that he was Harry
Potter. Anyone Vernon had told in his meetings were also getting the same treatment at the moment.

The safe guards were still in effect and they wouldn't be down until Harry put two and
two together himself. Anything and everything that had to do with Harry Potter that would point
anyone to Harry Chantt, would be wiped away so that they couldn't solve the puzzle; it was a
game for Harry to win and if he could win it, he would be rewarded.

The two headed into Gringotts and walked right up to the counter where a rather mean looking
Goblin sat. Vernon was about to speak, when Harry tapped his hand on the side of the counter to
gather the Goblin's attention; why he did it that way, he couldn't remember.

The Goblin leaned over the counter to look down at the boy, who was glaring back at the black
eyed creature with intent to cause harm should he ignore him. ‟And who might you be?" the
Goblin sneered, ignoring Harry's intensifying glare.

‟I am Harrison Tomas Chantt" Harry's tone was laced with ice, very much like how most
Purebloods would address those they see as being below them.

At the sound of that name, the Goblin lost what color he had, which was strange to see, and
leaned back into his seat and fiddled with a key he had under the table in a lockbox.
‟Very well, we have been expecting you for quite sometime young man, your mother did say you
would show up one day to claim the vaults and the Chantt house."

This bit of information startled both Vernon and Harry. Yes they knew about the vault, but the
house? House, that seemed like the triggering point in Vernon's memory, like someone had set a
key phrase there that would activate the memory so that he would give the proper answer.

‟Oh, we will be moving in there shortly." Vernon kept his surprise at his own choice of words,
hidden from both Harry and the Goblin and when the Goblin asked him his name, he replied
automatically just like before.

‟Vern, Vern Chantt...I'm his Uncle" Now why did he choose that name? He wasn't a Chantt, was
he? And his name was Vernon...No, Vern did sound right all of the sudden. New memories quickly filled in the blanks, trying desperately to wipe Vernon Dursley from the face of the planet.
The same was happening to poor Harry, who was starting to get a headache from all the memory shuffling and replacing.

‟That's nice, follow me please...I am Gorgnuck" he added his name as an after thought, hoping
to stay on the good side of this Chantt, seeing as his whole family was quite vicious, just as bad
as Slytherin's line.

Harry and Vernon followed the Goblin to a table nearby, where Harry put his blood into a goblet
for the Goblin to verify. Two names popped up, forcing the Goblin to sputter a few times,
earning him a look from many of his fellows who didn't understand what could have a Goblin in
such a fuss. There, in bold letters on the parchment in front of Gorgnuck, were two names that
would change how Harry perceived the world, followed by more that would show him that he
was more than he initially thought.

Name:
Harrison Tomas Salazar Chantt

Vaults: Chantt, Parasul, Gaunt, Black.

Father:
Tom Marvolo ‟Voldemort" Riddle

Vaults: Gaunt

Mother:
Selene Ursula Chantt

Vaults: Chantt, Parasul, Black.

Uncle: Vern Earlus Chantt

Vaults: Chantt

Cousin: Sirius Black

Vaults: Black.

Other ties: Malfoy

Properties: Chantt House, The Bog Mine.

Abilities: Parselmouth, Wandless Magic, Shifting.

Compatible family Wands:

Father: Yew, 13 ½ inches, Phoenix tail feather core.

Cousin: Hawthorn, 10 inches, Unicorn hair core.

As he looked over the parchment, Harry felt more memories flit to the surface upon seeing the
name of his father. But none of them were very important, just bits about school and people he
seemed to know. To Harry, it was like he was Tom Riddle at times, seeing and remembering
things that only his father would know, this unnerved him the whole time they picked through the
Chantt vault.

Once done, they left quickly, with Harry wanting to get his supplies and Vernon wanting to see
this house they now owned in the hopes of getting some answers. The first stop was the
bookshop, which was Vernon's new favorite place. He bought as many books as he could stuff in
a bag all to himself, while getting another for Harry's school things as well as one on Animagi,
which is what Gorgnuck had said Harry's shifting ability was for. When Harry was old enough, possibly his fifties and IF he managed to perfect Transfiguration, he might be able to become an advanced
shapeshifter, but for now he would have to settle with being just an Animagus, which was more
than enough in Harry's mind. Vern firmly drilled it into Harry's head on their way out of the shop that the young man was not in any way to practice anything in that book without a Professor or a very skilled Animagus present.

Next was Ollivander's for a wand...

The shop was dark and dusty, silence reigned around them save for the soft thuds of someone
milling around in the back of the shop. It took four tries from Vern to get the attention of the
unknown person before a ladder slid into view and the shop's owner removed himself from it.

‟Come to buy a wand I see, how interesting..." His soft voice caught Harry's attention more than
a shout from Petunia would have. Ollivander's silver eyes trailed up to the boy's forehead for a
moment, then drifted down in slight disappointment.

‟Which is your wand hand young man?" he held up a tape measure for a moment waiting for
Harry's answer. When the boy shrugged and indicated that he could use either hand for most
things, Ollivander looked curious. ‟Indeed?" was all he said in reply. Suddenly, he stole away
into the back of the shop and returned with a box. He gave the wand over to Harry and then told
him to wave it.

Ten wands later Harry wound up with a 14" Ebony wand with Thestral hair core, which made
Ollivander smile. ‟A good wand indeed, can do just about anything if the wizard trains at it"

But that was only the beginning of Harry's problems. It seems that he shared his father's
curiosity. There was a Holly wand laying on the table in front of him, one that Ollivander had
apparently pulled out for Harry Potter to try once he got there. Harry only knew this because he
didn't miss the eyes to his forehead movement that Ollivander had preformed the moment he was
near enough to him. Slowly, so that the movement would not be caught by Ollivander, who was
being paid by Vern, Harry reached out and took hold of the wand, starting when it accepted him
the same way his Ebony wand had.

‟Curious, very curious...Two wands...But that one" he pointed over at the Holly wand Harry
now held in his left hand, the other being preoccupied in holding the box that held his Ebony one.

‟That one has a brother...The Phoenix who's tail feather resides in that wand, gave another, just
one other...Yew, thirteen and a half inches, Phoenix feather core. Yes that wand I remember
above all others...I remember every single wand I've ever sold young man...That wand is a
legend, that belonged to a great wizard."

Harry didn't need to be told who the wizard was, that parchment had told him all the family
wands that his blood would accept and the thirteen and a half inch Yew and Phoenix feather
wand was right up top on that list. Great.

‟Perhaps not as great as you think, he was defeated after all by Potter" Harry shrugged and put
his new Holly wand into its box. While doing this, he missed the look that Ollivander gave him,
but got the message by ear.

‟True, but he was still great...Might I assume that you stand on the pretense that one is only
great if they can't be defeated?" The wand maker frowned at Harry as he watched the boy
answer; something was familiar...

‟Yes, you are correct in assuming as much...But don't assume to know me just from that little bit
of information you just gathered." Harry Smirked.

Ah yes, that would be what was familiar about the boy, his personality...Young Tom.

Ollivander kept chanting the name over and over in his head as he watched the boy in front of
him, never did he assume that Harry Potter and this boy were the same child, which would have
triggered the same memory wiping that Vernon and Hagrid had been subject to. But this memory
wiping wouldn't be triggered if anyone found out the boy was kin to Tom Riddle, after all, that
was what the spell was for; so long as it wasn't known that Harry Potter and Harry Chantt were
the same, then all would be fine. The only thing in OIllivander's mind right now tagged by magic for modification later, was the memory of the wand sales...If it should ever come to that.

It was to hide the chosen one in plain sight. Under another identity, thus protecting him from the
Death Eaters and perhaps his own father until he could bring him down, if he chose that path. But
what the person who set the spell on the child didn't figure in, was what happened if Albus
Dumbledore was not the person they assumed him to be, but a masterful manipulator that would
use Harry Potter as a tool, and make Harry Chantt the new evil for both Harry and himself to
fight. If Voldemort never returned, then Harry Potter would be chasing down and killing this
Chantt fellow. But if Voldemort did indeed return, then they would have two lords to bring down
and Dumbledore would be the top name up there next to Potter. And what happened if Harry
Potter never showed up? What would happen then?

Vern left the shop with Harry in tow, the two of them heading off toward Madam Malkin's.

This shop was full of parents and children who were here to gather their Hogwarts robes and
Harry didn't like the crowd one bit, even less so when a young, silvery blond haired boy started
up a storm with his comments.

‟Look at all these Mudbloods mother, scurrying around like insects..." he held his head up high
as if to prevent his nose from picking up any offensive smells that these people might put off.

Madam Malkin rushed forward to get Harry up on a stand at the same time she scolded the blond
haired child and his mother. ‟Really, there is no need for such language!"

Both the boy and his mother, who looked like someone else Harry had remembered seeing from
one of his memories, snorted in reply to the scolding and watched in amusement as most of the
patrons left and vowed to their kids that they would return later once the place had cleared out.

Now that the place was empty, save for Vern, Harry, Madam Malkin and the offensive witch and
her son, the boy turned his attention to Harry.

‟So, guess you're not a Mudblood then, or you would have cleared out with the rest of them" He
sneered over at Vern, who was now turning slightly purple; something had popped in his mind at
the word 'Mudblood' and now he was finding it hard to keep from throttling the boy at accusing
his Nephew of being one of them.

‟Really" Madam Malkin muttered again and finished touching Harry's robes up to fit him.
The other boy ignored her again and continued to look at Vern and Harry, as if trying to judge
which lot they were by their reactions. It wasn't necessary, however, because Harry lost his cool
at the blond's next words.

‟Though you do look like a Mudblood, and him a Muggle..." He indicated Vern. Vern took two
steps forward and opened his mouth in the perfect imitation of an angry dragon, but his Nephew
beat him to the bite.

‟I am not one of them!" he hissed, his eyes burning red for two seconds before returning to
their teal color. Suddenly it was as if a spell broke on Harry, a feeling like warm water melting off him and his mind felt clear. His face snapped into an impassive mask and his next few words were spoken in a cool manner.

‟He is a squib, not a Muggle and you will not insult either of us again...or elsssse" without
knowing it, Harry had slipped into Parseltongue at the last in anger, something he wasn't known to do very
often. It felt like he was now fully this other person, not who ever he had been before. In all the
contact with all these magical folk, perhaps what ever was on him had finally worn off?
The headache got worse as more memories - mostly of his previous personality - were adjusted accordingly.
It wouldn't do for the boy to notice he had at one point been saturated in spells of all kinds.

He reached up and plucked his glasses off his face, tucking them into his pocket, he didn't need
them anymore, he could see just fine. This tiny thought was modified, so that he remembered wearing
the glasses to prevent being recognized, as who he couldn't yet put his finger on, but the need to hide his identity was now no longer needed.

The blond was looking at him in a way that made Harry wonder if he had grown an extra head or
something. The look was of pure horror and awe.

‟I'm Draco, Draco Malfoy...um...Which family did I insult?" He didn't seem as rude or
condescending as before, now he seemed worried that he may have cost his family some honor and was attempting to do damage control.

Harry shrugged and returned to letting Madam Malkin fiddle with his last robe. ‟Chantt, Harrison
Chantt" he cast Vern a look and locked eyes with him as Draco let out a gasp of realization and
Vern quickly left the shop to do as he felt he had been requested.

Since they had entered the Alley, Vern and Harry had noticed that so long as they made eye
contact, the two of them seemed to be able to plant information into one another's minds. They
didn't know that what they were doing was a very powerful type of magic that would get one
very dangerous, yet protective Professor on Harry's tail when he finally reached Hogwarts.

‟Well, I'm sorry..I didn't mean to insult you at all..." Draco got down from his stand and walked
over to where Harry was standing, his mother kept darting glances out at the retreating form of
Vern for a few seconds, before she too left the shop to follow; perhaps she was worried that he
was up to no good?

Harry and Draco eyed each other then Draco extended his hand in friendship. Harry looked down
at it and tilted his head, giving Draco the impression of a snake that was trying to decide between
going to one branch or the next. After a moment though, Harry took Draco's hand and gave him
a firm shake.

‟No problem, though in the future you should watch your prey a little longer to gauge how they
react to their surroundings before you jump to conclusions."

The two boys left the shop together, a pair of budding friends, and chatted about everything that came to mind while going
from shop to shop in search of all their supplies. Vern had given Harry the money before leaving
Madam Malkin's and Draco already had his money on him. By the time the two were found by
Draco's mother, they had bought everything they needed and were enjoying a moment of
relaxation at an ice cream shop.

Draco had the ice cream and was kicking his dangling legs back
and forth, while Harry seemed the more mature one of the two and only nursed a cup of tea and
sat with his legs crossed elegantly. She noticed that on the ground next to them were two owls,
one pure white and one grey and their supplies, while around Harry's neck, was a medium sized black serpent
who was covered in light grey speckles. It's eyes were glowing red and although it resembled a
cobra, it was obviously part Ashwinder, though how that was possible, she didn't want to know.

‟Got everything without me I see.." she drawled, not at all happy with Draco at the moment.
Draco looked over at his mother with slight interest and then motioned over to Harry.

‟Harry wanted a snake and they didn't have anything that he wanted here, so we went to
Knockturn Alley...Got him a snake that is the hybrid offspring of a Python/Spitting Cobra mix that
was magically bred with an Ashwinder...Wicked is all I can say."

At this, Draco's mother flinched at her own realization, so it was true, the boy had been speaking
Parseltongue in the shop. ‟Well that is fine, but we must be going" she sounded worried and
perhaps a little angry.

A shout from across the Alley made Draco get to his feet quickly and snatch up all his items. A
tall, thin and rather cross looking man made his way over to the pair of Malfoys. He had the same
air as Draco and even resembled him greatly...The first thought was that this was Draco's father
and Harry smirked at how right he was.

‟Father...This is Harry Cha-‟ he was cut off by a quick rap to his lower back with the snake
headed walking stick that his father was carrying.

‟I don't care who he is, you were told to stay with your mother and not to wander off with odd
types" he hissed, shooting a dark glare at Harry, which Harry returned. Surprisingly, Draco's
father paled quickly and turned away to drag both his wife and son away and spoke in a low
whisper that he was sure Harry couldn't hear...he was wrong.

‟You're right Narcissa, he does look like him...and if that is the case, then let us hope that
Draco's quick thinking saved us from being on his bad side."

Draco snarled at his father, though Harry couldn't quite catch what he said, whatever was said
resulted in him getting the walking stick again.

Five minutes after the Malfoys left, Vern showed up with a Kneazle-Maine Coon cross that was
pitch black with dark grey and dark brown stripes. 'Soot' as the cat was now dubbed by Vern,
was the Chantt family pet; evidently Vern had gone to the Chantt house and brought the cat back
to Diagon Alley.

Vern filled Harry in on all he learned at the house, which he had been escorted to by their lawyer,
Mr. Crass. Crass was described as being a well dressed, well learned young man with a tad too
cheery personality and the way he spoke and the colors he chose in an outfit had clearly labeled
him a 'poof' in Vern's mind.

But that was beside the point.

The house was huge and not so vacant. Harry's Grandmother had been there when Vern showed
up with Crass and she drilled into Vern's head everything she thought important to tell him with
her last dying breaths. The cat, Baltham, now named Soot, was charmed to live until the last
member of the Chantt family died. He was an heirloom of sorts, very intelligent and can be
renamed by only the male head of the family or the current matriarch if no males were in the line.

Vern was now the head of the family, until Harry was of age and apparently, Vern was the squib
brother of Selene, Harry's mother, and had been given to Muggles once it was known that he was
a squib.

Now Harry not only had a good family and a wicked history, but he had a house that he and Vern
could live in without the 'demons' being there to wreak it.

The Uncle and Nephew walked out of Diagon Alley and returned to the drab house that was
number four Privet Drive, and the only thought that was going through Vern's mind as he tucked
Harry in to the bed that they would be sharing until morning when they would get him one of his
own was that the boy was a blessing, not a curse.

Unknown to them, when the two fell asleep and August first rolled around, a charm activated on Soot
whisking the two sleeping individuals who were holding him to separate bedrooms in the Chantt
house. Anything and everything that Vern dearly loved from Privet Drive suddenly appeared there
in the master bedroom that was now his. Same happened to Harry's things, which were moved
down the hall into the room that he now owned. Neither of them woke up at the sudden change in
their environments, but small smiles graced their sleeping features; they were home and they
knew it. Memories of previous living conditions modified to remove a certain woman and boy's name from them as well as changing their appearances; nothing that connected the two remaining Dursleys to the Chantt family was left intact...

Meanwhile, back at Privet Drive, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall and Rubeus Hagrid all stood there
dumbstruck at the near empty house, it was as if Harry Potter had been living there with only his
Aunt and cousin, though there was no sign of Harry Potter living there save for the cupboard with
the words 'Harry's Bedroom' etched into the door and the few pictures of Harry and the family
that Vernon had put there earlier that day to piss Petunia off when she returned. The pictures were
of when Harry was two, four, and seven years old, still looking like James and Lily's son for the photos.

Vernon Dursley just disappeared into thin air, divorced from his wife for some reason and left her
to deal with Harry and Dudley alone. This is what they thought had happened, that Petunia was on
vacation with Harry and Dudley, totally ignoring the writing on the cupboard that stated
otherwise, that Harry was the House Elf there and that Petunia and Dudley were his owners.

And in a hotel, hundreds of miles away from Privet Drive and Gryphon's Point, a parchment
landed on the table requiring Petunia's signature for divorce. It stated that she was married to a
squib. Her reaction was priceless and a memory (again the contents were edited name and appearance wise regarding the wife and not-son) was being recorded from the paper so that both Harry and Vern would be
allowed to see it later. Feeling betrayed, that her Vernon was really a magical person placed in her
home to spy on her and keep Harry Potter safe, she signed the paper, only to regret it a moment
after the paper disappeared; what was so bad about being married to a magical person anyways, it
didn't feel any different.

But she wouldn't remember that bit of information, she would remember that Muggle Vernon had
enough of her hating on Harry and that after the boy 'ran away' and left Vernon to clear up the
mess, he had decided to move on.

And the fact that Dudley wasn't his son...

This little tid bit had her worried how her Vernon had found out about her 'Weekend Lover'. She was always careful whenever she went out on her 'gathering' trips so as not to tip off her Husband or the gossiping group she was a part of...it bothered her all night as she lay there trying to sleep.

And back at the Chantt house, a hybrid serpent lay next to her master, listening to Soot explain
everything that the divorce paper would do thanks to the lawyer.

‟Clever Mr. Crassss, very clever indeed, musst have been a Ssslytherin at Hogwartss." she mused
aloud, while laying her head down to sleep on her Parselmouth master's chest.