Chapter two.

And the hits just keep on coming.

Discovering that the Dursleys were finally going to give him an actual bedroom was a bit of a shock. But sadly, being whipped with a belt when he rolled his eyes at the long list of chores he was supposed to do every day starting the next morning was not. Having feared that something like this might happen, Alice had spent the car ride home and the evening until Harry had a chance to finish up the dinner dishes and bring a few scraps to his new room sequestered in his school trunk. Snoozing in clean socks that had been placed inside a small wooden box he had found in the dorm room. Apparently at one point it had contained some Zonko's product. When he finally had a chance to go upstairs and let her out it was nearly eleven at night and both she and Hedwig, his beautiful white snow owl, were hungry, thirsty, and more than a little annoyed.

Saying not a word, he placed Alice on the bed next to a plate full of leftovers. Then fed and watered Hedwig, accepting her irritated nip with as much grace as he could muster and eyes that begged forgiveness. He left her cage open and raised the window so she would have free reign. When he is done and turns around, Alice is back to her normal size at just a couple of inches shorter than he is.

"Sorry for leaving you alone in there. This was the first I could get free. They had me working until it was time to make dinner, then the cleanup was pretty bad because they hadn't bothered to do any cleanup of their own for a few days I think. Probably wanted to make sure I knew my place when I got back."

"Harry, if what I could hear through the walls of the trunk is indicative of your life here, then your family is despicable and moreover, unlawful. You do understand that beating and working like a slave a child under their care is against the law, do you not?"

Harry looks at her. "Yeah, I know."

Alice looks confused. "Then why do you not tell anyone? There has to be a constable that could do something for you. The situation here cannot continue. I will not allow it to continue. To do so would be a direct violation of the oath I swore, not to mention a flagrant disregard for common decency."

Harry slumps to the floor, with his back leaning against the bed as he hears Alice nibbling at a roast beef sandwich and sipping the chocolate milk he provided. "I used to. When I was little. I would tell teachers sometimes where I had gotten the marks, when they asked. Or that I hadn't been fed in awhile, and that is why they could see my ribs. They always said they would do something, and then a few weeks later they would forget about me and things would go back to the way that they were. After awhile I just stopped bothering to try. It got too depressing when they decided I wasn't worth helping after all and quit."

Alice stops eating, and Harry can almost feel the look being directed at him. Three parts sympathy to four parts unbridled rage, somehow all hidden behind a slight frown. "Harry, the headmaster is more than a master of Legilimency. He is, I am quite sure, more than capable of casting a simple Obliviate, and these non-magical folk that you have been pleading to for help would have had no defense against it."

Harry turns to look at her. "What is Obliviate? I don't think we have covered that one yet."

Alice sets her glass down on the dresser. "It is called a memory charm. Mostly it is used to protect the statute of secrecy so non-wand wielders won't learn about the magical world." She gives a dark look to the floor. "They say magical world as though they are somehow living on a different planet. The very peak of arrogance. In any case, a master of the Obliviate charm can not only wipe someones memory of specific tidbits that they are not interested in dealing with, but they can nudge in a replacement memory that the victim of the charm will consider to have come from their own mind. Someone, probably the headmaster, has been making it a point to mess about with your life to the extent that they have been doing illegal memory tampering to see it done. The problem with this is that it means that you are under some form of scrutiny. You would have to be, or they would not know to respond to these things. If you want my advice, you should pack your things. We should be leaving at first light, and unless you like it here enough to stay for some indecipherable reason, we shan't be returning."

Harry looks a bit shocked. "Just leave? Where would I go? Where would we go, I mean? I have some money, but I don't know if I have enough to support both of us for six summers until I graduate and can get a job!"

"And why would only you be working? If I intend to eat from the table I should expect to be party to keeping the cupboards stocked, I should think. But beyond that, I don't yet know. I am uncertain where we would go. But we must come up with something as remaining here is simply unacceptable. If I hear that Vernon person bellowing at you again for no reason I am liable to be forced to act or fall prey to my vow. Honestly, I value my own life quite highly and his not at all. The decision would not be a difficult one."

Harry looks a little shocked at that. It hadn't occurred to him that her oath could result in such a solution. Then he nods his head. "Well, if that is what we are going to do, then I guess the first stop should be Gringotts, the wizard bank. We will need to find out what kind of budget I really have before we can make any kind of plans."

"A fair statement. We should also look into alternate schooling for you, at least. I will need to find a way to reinsert myself into the world at large before I will be able to do so myself. With the only records of my existence being nearly a century old, I expect that there will be problems."

Harry frowns. "Alternate schooling? That place is dangerous, I can't abandon my friends there. They need me."

Alice rolls her eyes. "They need you to tell them how vile the wizarding world and your relatives treat you. If they are true friends, they will not begrudge you removing yourself from a hostile and needlessly malevolent environment. If they are not true friends then their opinion on the matter is so much less than worthless, it is actually harmful."

Harry considers her words. He wants to agree with her, but he knows better. They are his friends, but Ron will not understand. He can already hear the spiteful bleating in his mind about how the best wizarding school in the world is obviously just not good enough for the stuck up Harry Potter. Hermione will nod, and understand, and put up a good front. But she will be hurt. She didn't have much in the way of friends before Harry and Ron beat down the troll that had come for her in the bathrooms, and to call Ron her friend, while not exactly inaccurate, might be taking some liberties with the word. After all he was the reason that she was hiding in the bathroom in the first place.

"They are my friends, Alice. But they are in no position to control their own lives and they are stuck there. If I left them, I would be abandoning my friends. I won't do that to them, any more than I would do it to you. We need to find a way to have the rights over my person stripped from the Dursleys and the headmaster, and then back it up with a solicitor."

Alice gives him an odd look. "So we are friends, then? Can't remember the last time I had one of those. You are quite certain that this is something you want?"

Harry returns her odd look for a moment, then it melts into a smile. "Alice, you are my friend. You have no choice in that. Whether or not you choose to be mine is unfortunately something I can't control, but I hope you do."

She stills for a minute. "I think it would be best were we to get to know each other better before such claims were made, Harry. I have no doubt of your sincerity. But I am not quite normal, and until you have had time to learn more of what makes me who I am, you should spend the time learning rather than setting standards of fondness and familiarity that you could later regret."

Harry, not being quite sure how to take that recommends that Alice shrink again if possible for sleeping purposes, his bed being a bit of a threadbare monster that occasionally throws a spring through the too small mattress when his inevitable nightmares make him move around too much.

The next morning is an early one for the two of them, as Harry packs everything that he cannot do without into his school trunk and with Alice's help manages to get it and Hedwig's cage both down to the street at just after five o'clock in the morning.

"I guess we will have to get to a bus station if we are going to the Leaky Cauldron. That is the entrance point to Diagone Alley, the wizard area of London. That's where Gringotts is. I think I have enough money to get us there and put us up for a few days, but we will need to hit the bank as soon as possible." Harry looks one way then the other as he speaks, trying to remember where the nearest bus stop is.

"The world has changed more than a bit since I last walked its streets, so I will leave the planning of these early stages to you. Though if the talk I heard in that antechamber is to be believed, there may be an easier way about this." Alice looks thoughtful. Then shrugs, as if making a decision. "Try standing on the edge of the road and holding your wand out, see what happens."

Harry does and within a few seconds, there is a crashing, screeching sound as a giant, double decker bus effectively appears in front of them and a rather slender and unassuming young man is stepping off of it, asking for money, destination, and any luggage they may have so he can stow it on board.

After passing over the money, and watching as the man struggles to load his overweight trunk, the ride begins. The ride, of course, being an insane, high speed fiasco wherein the bespectacled older gentleman who is driving the vehicle displays skill that the best rally car driver could only dream of in getting them to their destination at the speeds he does and through whatever traffic happens to be in the way. There isn't a lot of time to chat during the ride, but as they are dragging Harry's trunk into their room in the leaky cauldron the planning and plotting begins in earnest.

"So the bank should be open in a couple of hours. Do you want to stop by Madam Malkin's for some wizarding clothes on the way? It might help you to stand out less."

Alice raises an eyebrow. "And what, pray tell, is wrong with my manner of dress? Though I will admit that it would be nice to have something new and less soiled, I have no desire to change my style unless I have no choice. School uniforms, for example, and we do not yet know if I will even have need of those." She cocks her head to one side. "Or if I even could, if I am being honest. I have some skill with runes and potions, a bit dealing with magical beasties, and have dealt with more than a few magical or cursed items. But I have never used a wand before. It may not be a skill that I possess."

Harry looks absolutely gobsmacked. "Huh. You know, I never really considered that you might not be able to use a wand. I guess we should stop by Ollivander's and see if we can match you with one on the way. I have about fifty Galleons leftover from the last time I went to the bank, that ought to be enough for a change of clothes and a wand."

Alice stands up from where she has been resting on her bed. "Very well. Perhaps we should avail ourselves of the pubs fare before we go. It has been a busy day already, and it is likely to be a long one."

"Good idea. I haven't eaten anything since the train, I'm starving."

Alice looks at him sharply. "What do you mean? Did you not eat dinner last night?"

Harry looks at is feet, his expression one that broadcasts a wish that he had kept his mouth shut. "Yeah... I don't eat with the Dursleys unless they have company that know who I am and they can't get out of it. The plate of leftovers last night was all I could scrounge without getting in trouble. I was expecting you to be about two inches tall, so while it would have been a light meal at least it would have kept us for the night. When I turned around and saw you were big again, well, I just didn't want to say anything I guess. Sorry."

"You starved yourself that I might have my evening meal and you apologize for it? Harry, you are not to do that again. Neither the starving nor the apologizing for being a selfless and good person. I will be most upset if you continue this tendency towards martyrdom. Now stop it, and lets go get something to eat."

The meal prepared by Tom downstairs is both delicious and cheap, as part of it was included in the room rental. Deciding that even if she doesn't want to wear a robe, wearing something that isn't covered in old bloodstains is a bit of a priority they find their way to Malkin's.

While it is true that Madam Malkin's stocks and creates the finest of robes for all occasions, it is not the only clothing that she sells. In fact, she sells fine clothing of many types, as long as you are happy with styles that are between a hundred and four hundred years out of date by muggle standards. Needless to say, Alice walks out of the shop wearing a black silk with red highlights and trim knee length dress with a dark red pinafore, her skull storage box moved seamlessly over to the new attire. The socks are replaced with a similar pair, only red and black, and the boots she deems worthy to stay as they are still in good shape. It is the first new clothes she has had in what feels like forever, and as they continue the trip to Ollivander's shop she luxuriates in the feel of silk against her skin rather then the tattered, cheap cotton that she has worn for so long.

Entering Ollivander's, the two step up to the counter and Alice rings the bell for service. A few seconds later, the head of highly disobedient gray hair sticks itself out from behind a shelf, and the wrinkled face breaks into a smile. "Ah, Harry Potter. Holly and Phoenix feather, eleven inches. What brings you back into my little shop? Has there been a problem with your wand?"

Harry smiles, shaking his head at the enigmatic old mans uncanny memory. "No sir, my wand is working out just fine. I need to see if my friend here can be fitted for one."

Ollivander looks closer at Alice. "Is that so? Could I perhaps have your name young miss?"

"Alice Liddell. Though it boggles the mind why you would need my name to sell me a stick, however finely crafted it may be."

Ollivander stares at her for a moment, his eyes going a little wide. Then he laughs out loud, a sound that Harry is pretty sure hasn't been heard since before he was born. "My my, aren't you the little spitfire? Well, to assuage your befuddlement, I will reveal the secret. The Ministry of magic demands I file paperwork for every wand sold so they have some kind of record if they find later that crimes have been committed with it. Additionally, due to your obvious age, yours will undoubtedly have to be fitted with the trace before it is sold to you, so they can track the use of unauthorized underage magic."

Alice thinks for a moment. "Mr. Ollivander, is there perhaps a spell that you can use to determine whether or not someone is old enough to be considered an adult?"

He raises a pair of bushy eyebrows at her. "Of course, quite handy when one has a bit of dissension concerning the age of a buyer. Would you like this courtesy?"

"Please, if you would. It will quickly answer many of my questions."

Ollivander pulls out his own wand. "Very well, please hold still."

Muttering something under his breath as he waves his wand over her head, a number appears in the air. Backwards, to the children. But apparently it is not what he expects, as he then does so again and receives the same result. "How is this possible? Miss, according to this you are nearly a hundred and forty years old?"

Alice gives a slight smile, and says "With magic, all things are possible Mr. Ollivander. Now, it should be said that I have never owned a wand before and while I know that I have some unusual magical talents, I have no idea if I could effectively use a wand. Is there a way to quickly discover my standing in such things, so as to not waste any of your time?"

He nods. "Yes, of course. Usually I sell to children on their way to school for the first time or wizards and witches that have managed to damage their own somehow. But I do have a tester wand for the odd circumstance like this."

With that he reaches behind the counter for what looks at first glance to be a beaters bat. The massive construct of multiple wood types spliced together and bound with steel bands is at least as big around as her arm, and long enough for her to reach the floor with standing up straight. "Give this a wave. If you have any wand capability at all, there will be something in there that will react to you. It will likely be a muddled mess, whatever happens. Impossible to focus anything through one of these. But it will quickly let us know."

Alice picks up the thing in both hands and gives it a wave. A lot of things happen when she does.

The bat glows a bright, neon green, and begins to hum in a low tone that is increasing in pitch and volume. A shelf on the far side of the store turns into a red liquid, causing a splash and crash when it and everything that was on it falls to the floor. One of the rivets holding the steel bands onto the tester bat pops out to the sound of a gunshot and starts a small fire when it shatters an oil lamp, and finally a shower of what seems to be black sparks, sparks that instead of giving off light seem to suck it in, is released from the tip.

Ollivander quickly grabs the bat out of her hands, and uses his own wand to put out the fire.

Once that is done, he spares her another glance and speaks once again. "Yes. I think it is fair to say that you have wand potential. Based on what I just saw I have no idea what that potential is, but I have never once let a customer down and I don't intend to start now."

Then he pulls out a measuring tape and begins taking down his numbers. Harry notes that he seems to be a bit more serious about things than he had been when he was getting his own wand.

From this point on, it reminds him a lot of when he was getting fit for a wand. The old man is constantly mumbling, getting wands, handing them to her, and then quickly taking them back when things go awry. After nearly an hour of this, he suddenly stops. Looks at Alice in wonder. "You did say that your last name was Liddell, is that correct?" At her quick nod, he asks them to wait there for a minute while he goes to a safe in the back, and after a few minutes of fiddling with it brings back a very old leather bound wand box. "We used to sell them like this. Long ago, when my father ran the business. He once told me a story when I was quite young of a donation of hair to his wand shop, curiously however this donation was not given by the owner or killer of the animal. Rather, it was given by the animal itself. Apparently, it claimed that there was 'soon to be a little Liddell to claim the wand', and left a short 'riddle for the Liddell' so we would be sure to get the right buyer. Would you care to try?"

Alice looks decidedly perturbed. "Go ahead then, but before you get started know that I give it at least a fifty-fifty shot the answer will end up being 'The Chesire Cat.' I always wondered where the bedeviling creature had gotten off to when it disappeared. Apparently now I know."

Ollivander's jaw drops open like it has a ton of weight hanging off of it. "Yes, well, I guess we won't bother with this then." He says, tossing an ancient scrap of parchment behind him on the ground.

Handing her the wand in question, it turns out to be a very beautiful polished palmaletto, or zebra wood, with flowing light and dark wood grain over the length of it. Eleven inches long. Waving it produces an aura of silvery force that settles around her and Harry, then seems to shrink into their skin, followed by the sound of a giggling snicker.

Alice looks disgruntled. "Yes, that is him all right. He always makes that atrocious sound right before my life is about to get far more complicated than I would like."

"Hmm, yes. Well, normally I would tell you interesting things about the wood and core of your wand, but as this one was constructed by my father and using two components I am not entirely familiar with, we shall have to skip that part of the exchange. Do let me know how it works out for you though. That will be twelve galleons."

Harry pays the bill, and then they both pick up wand holsters intended to be worn on the forearm with built in notice-me-not charms for an additional sixteen total. Then they leave, and begin making their way to the bank.

Gringotts bank is always somewhat busy, it being the only moneychangers and loan institution in the wizarding world. But oddly, there are only a few patrons when Harry and Alice come in. Waiting patiently in line to speak to a teller the two cease their conversation by unspoken agreement, as there is very little chance to avoid being overheard here. When there is a teller available Harry walks over with Alice following and keeping a weather eye on these unusual creatures that run the bank. Oh, Harry has told her about them. The Goblins of Gringotts, and how they are clever and ruthless in battle or money matters, but supposedly decent and honorable out of the competitive arena. But having had small bipedal green and tan deformed creatures try to murder her incessantly for a century, a bit of healthy skepticism seems to be in order.

"Sir, I need to speak to someone concerning the Potter account and My friend here will be needing an account of her own."

The taciturn old wrinkled creature stares for a moment, then scribbles down some information and drops it in a box on his desk. Then pointing to an "Go wait by the doors. Someone will be by to take you to a private room as soon as we can find the potter accounts manager."

Harry is a bit out of sorts, hearing that he has an account manager. But he decides that they must assign a given goblin responsibility over any number of accounts and they need to find the one that manages his.

They wait by the door for a good ten minutes, and then a younger goblin, they assume due to the fewer wrinkles and clearer skin, walks up to them. He gives perhaps the slightest bow that has ever been witnessed by man or beast, then says "Follow me." He takes them through a doorway that leads deeper into the bank, and after a few minutes of walking they come to an office that is already occupied by an older goblin, clad entirely in hardened black leather. He stands as they enter, and the two can see the wicked looking dagger hanging off of his side with a foot of blade not counting grip, against the frame of the goblin it looks to be a mid sized sword with a spike on the pommel. He stares for a moment at Harry, then begins at a measured though clearly unhappy tone. "Mr Potter. My name is Accounts Manager Grimknott and we have much to discuss. Please, sit but be advised that we will be discussing information pertinent to your finances and potentially your parents last will and testament. It is up to you whether or not you would like your friend here with you when we do so."

Harry looks intrigued by the talk of his parents will, but nods. "Of course she can stay. Please continue."

Alice nods in thanks. If asked, she would have left. But leaving her charge in a room alone with an armed creature, supposedly honorable or not, was a chance she was loathe to take.

Once the two of them are settled, the goblin brings out a wooden box from behind the counter. It is quite an ornate box, and has a round hole in one side large enough for harry to easily fit his hand in. The box is just slightly larger than a piece of parchment, and has stubby little legs on the corners. The goblin slips a piece under it after placing it on the desk, then turns to Harry. "Mr. Potter, if you would place your right hand in the box. Be warned the sensation will not be comfortable, but won't last long."

Harry looks somewhat dubious. Looking in the box and seeing nothing but blackness. "So what is in the box?"

The goblin looks at him, obviously amused. "Your future, Mr. Potter. This box contains your future."

Harry, still looking like he isn't sure if this is a good idea, places his hand in the box. It feels warm at first, then hot. When it would be tipping the scales to burning, the sensation stops, and thinking the deed is done Harry attempts to remove his hand from the box only to find that he cannot move. Other then his eyes and the ability to blink, he is as immobile as if he were made of stone. Then he can see under the box there is a bright light running across the page. It flashes seven times, then stops. Suddenly, Harry can move again and immediately does so, pulling his hand out of the box and glaring at the now chortling goblin. "Well done Mr. Potter. You handled that better than most lords do. Now, lets see what we have."

Removing the parchment and giving it a once over, his eyes widen a bit and then he reads it more thoroughly. Giving a low whistle, he then looks up at Harry. "Well, it would appear Mr. Potter that we have more to discuss than even I thought." With that, he hands the parchment off to Harry, who brings it up to his bespectacled face and feels his own eyes widen as he begins going over the contents of the sheet.

According to this sheet, he is Harry Potter. That much isn't a shock. But being the heir to the house of Gryffindor by blood and Slytherin by conquest through his mother, that was not expected. The fact that he is the fifty percent owner of Hogwarts through this was was even more shock still. The numbers at the bottom of the page that detail his liquid assets through the three houses are astonishing. But more than all of that, what really dropped his jaw to the floor was the fact that according to this, he was already married by way of a soul bond through his magic and thus considered an adult.

To Alice Liddell Potter.

Turning to Alice, he hands her the parchment. "I don't know what is going on here. Do you have any idea?"

Alice raises a perfect eyebrow and takes the parchment. After reading it thoroughly she turns to the Goblin and asks, in a perfectly controlled tone. "Grimknott, do you perchance happen to know if there is any obvious visual cues to let one know that they are being soul bound to somebody?"

Grimknott is looking a little confused and more than a bit worried. A soul bond is supposed to be a great thing, a boon. The kind of love and acceptance that men and women of any race chase for their whole lives and never achieve. "There are many possible ways in which it can manifest, but with the depth of the bond that has been indicated, it will most likely have been represented by a silvery glow emanating from the both of you and then sinking into your skin, creating an unbreakable joining of souls."

Alice frowns, though the rage behind her eyes causes both Harry and Grimknott to step back a pace. "Cheshire, if you are smart you will stay hidden or dead. Because if you don't I shall make you that way."

All three hear the deep, cultured voice as if it comes from everywhere and nowhere. "Keep that fire, child. Burn away what binds, but take care not to lose your lifeline in the process."

Alice at this point loses all semblance of control and begins to shake, the parchment crinkling in her grasp as her fists become clenched. Muttering loud enough to be heard in the hall, she responds to the phantom voice. "Cheshire! God damn you Cheshire!"