THE JUMP

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Arc I: The Protection Severed

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"Firs' place yeh wanna go is Gringotts, Harry," Hagrid told him as he led the boy along the cobbled pavement of Diagon Alley. "That's where all yer money is stored. Probably the safest place in the wizardin' world – 'cept for Hogwarts, o' course. Run by goblins, so yeh'll have ter be a madman ter break inter the place."

Harry nodded, feigning awe as he listened to his half-giant friend. It was a good thing he hadn't carried his mokeskin pouch with him, because he didn't want to gain Hagrid's attention – the groundskeeper would probably know Harry was carrying one due to his vast knowledge about magical creatures, and while he was a bit dim-witted, Hagrid would certainly get suspicious. After all, it was common knowledge that Harry Potter had been unofficially exiled from the Magical community for ten years.

Hagrid smiled. "C'mon, Harry. Let's get yer gold first, and then I'll show yeh the rest o' Diagon Alley."

"Okay, Hagrid."

The walk to Gringotts was pretty similar to when Harry had gone there the first time around (in his original time, he added) – Hagrid told Harry about the wizarding world, Hogwarts, and the way Gringotts was managed. There was separate fifteen minute lecture on dragons, and Harry felt amused when Hagrid took particular pleasure in telling him about Hungarian horntails, which made him privately wonder if he would have to participate in the Triwizard Tournament this time around. Harry made a mental note to take out Bartemius Crouch Jr as quickly as he could, and expose Crouch for the hypocrite he was simultaneously, both in the most unsuspecting way possible.

Harry had tried to procure some information about the philosopher's stone (which Hagrid once again called in a stage-whisper the 'you-know-what) beforehand, but Hagrid quickly changed the topic to chimaeras.

After retrieving a good amount of gold from Harry's trust vault, Hagrid once again gave Harry a tour of the magical marketplace. They bought his books from Flourish and Blotts, Potions ingredients from the apothecary, a collapsible pewter cauldron, and a set of standard Hogwarts robes from Madam Malkin's. It was a good thing Harry didn't meet Draco Malfoy while he was being dressed up, because frankly he didn't think he could've stopped himself from hexing the blonde ponce's arse off into next year.

Once they were done purchasing the robes, Hagrid stopped Harry outside and rubbed the back of his neck. "Harry, d'yeh mind lettin' me off fer a min' or two? I need ter, uh...get a drink from the Leaky Cauldron, tha's all."

Harry nodded and shrugged. "Alright, Hagrid."

Hagrid beamed. "Alright, Harry," he told the boy. "Don' go wanderin' off! Why don' yeh wait at Fortescue's, eh? Might as well get summat fer yerself," he added, tapping the bag of money around Harry's hand.

With a quick mutter of "I'll see yeh soon," Hagrid ambled off towards the Leaky Cauldron. Harry stood there for a minute before deciding that a nice sundae wouldn't do any harm, so he waddled off to Florean Fortescue's Ice-cream Parlour, where he immediately ordered a chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts. It seemed like a weird combination, but it was surprisingly good – so good, that Harry ordered a second. It was only when he paid the money that he noticed the shop right next to Fortescue's.

Eyelop's Owl Emporium.

With a sudden pang, he remembered his only connection to the magical world during those gloomy months at Privet Drive – Hedwig. The beautiful snowy owl had been one of the many things that kept reminding him that he was due to board the Hogwarts Express and survive those horrible few months with the Dursleys, where he was forced to be nothing more than an house-elf. He assured himself that he would get Hedwig at his side by hook or by crook.

Without further ado, he rushed into Eyelop's Owl Emporium and quickly came to a halt when he saw the shop clerk, not reciprocating the clerk's kindness. "So you have a snowy owl?" Harry asked – or rather, interrogated.

The clerk looked taken aback from the fierceness in Harry's voice and spoke with a slight stutter. "Y-Yes, we do have one. It's a female. Are you interested in it or...?" He left the question hanging in the air.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course, why else would I ask you of it?" he snapped in exasperation. The clerk raised an eyebrow, but disappeared from Harry's sight, returning a moment later with a caged, pure-white bird in his arms. In an instant, Harry knew that this was the same Hedwig he'd bonded with oh-so many years ago (or was it? The entire thing confused him). The owl, staring at him curiously, simply cocked her head in response when Harry smiled at her.

"That's the one," he said, pleased.

The clerk frowned at him in slight confusion, but didn't say anything, especially since he was being handed over the many coins required for the purchase. The shop clerk said, "Thank you for your business," but Harry was already gone.

"Hedwig's a beautiful name for you, don't you think?" Harry said pleasantly as the owl hooted in excitement.

Harry spent a good few minutes bonding with his familiar (again) until Hagrid made his presence known by walking up to Fortescue's. He questioned Harry about Hedwig, and the boy smiled as his half-giant friend muttered a string of praises laced with awe.

"Well, she's a ruddy beautiful owl, I'll give yeh tha'," Hagrid admitted. "To tell yeh the truth, I was plannin' ter buy yeh an owl for yer birthday, but I could do with payin' fer yer wand, yeh know..."

Harry felt his cheeks grow warm. After all these years, he still felt embarrassed when Hagrid chose to buy him something for his birthday. He spoke stiffly. "You don't need to, Hagrid—"

"I know I don' need ter, but I ruddy well will," Hagrid cut off indignantly. "After all those ruddy muggles did, I can't jus' let yeh off without buyin' yeh summat..."

Harry knew that arguing would get him nowhere, so he reluctantly allowed Hagrid to purchase his wand for him. Harry felt nothing but dread and anticipation as Hagrid led him to the dusty and small shop that belonged to Garrick Ollivander.

Harry walked inside and steeled himself to not flinch when Ollivander made his appearance. However, after waiting for five long minutes that seemed like eternity, Harry grew impatient. "Hello?" he said. "Is anyone there?"

"Hello, Mr Potter."

Caught unawares, Harry jumped into the air and whipped around, glaring at the wizened old man smiling eerily at him through stormy grey eyes. Damn the geezer, Harry grumbled, chiding himself. Ollivander had probably mastered scaring the living daylights out of people to an art form.

"You're Ollivander's, aren't you?" Harry said, pretending to be stupid.

"Yes I am, Mr Potter." Ollivander, despite his eerie appearance, sounded kind. Maybe that had been the only thing that prevented him from running away the first time around. The man walked around Harry and stopped behind his counter, rifling through the several boxes the size and shape of narrowed shoe boxes. "It seems like it was just yesterday that your mother and father were in here to buy their own wand. I remember your father purchasing one that had a strong affinity for transfiguration, a particularly difficult branch of magic...ah."

Ollivander brought forth a box and opened the lid, revealing a thin, long, ebony wand with a twiggy appearance. "Try this one, Mr Potter."

Harry picked it up, even after knowing that this wasn't the wand for him. However, Ollivander wasn't supposed to know that.

"Give it a wave."

Harry shook his head. He already knew that this wand didn't accept him, as Ollivander had put it, and he didn't want to destroy the old wizard's store trying to prove that to him. He decided to give an acceptable explanation. "I don't think so. It just feels...wrong. It's giving me odd vibes, that's all." It was true, anyway. Holding the wand felt like he was using it through someone else's arm. It was a weird explanation, but it had to do.

Ollivander raised an eyebrow and delicately placed the wand back into its box. "Very well, Mr Potter." He walked back and appeared a minute later, another box in his hands. "Let's try this one, shall we?"

And so it went. Only this time around, Ollivander didn't have to clean up any mess Harry created by trying different wands that didn't respond to him well enough. It was a good twenty wands later when Ollivander decided to bring out the holly-and-phoenix wand. "I wonder..."

Ollivander carried out the dusty box and carefully revealed the wand inside. Within was a jet-black wand of holly wood nearly a foot long, lithe and thin, yet strong. Ollivander nudged it at Harry, and the boy made sure to appear indifferent instead of joyful at the fact that he was being reunited with his original wand.

But when he held it, something was...different. It was like the air was heavy, like a storm was about to burst out at any moment. He could feel a thrumming in his bones, and felt a storm, inside. And he knew that feeling. The pressure around him was unmistakable. It was…powerful. Different. Mesmerizing.

Frightened, he stopped concentrating his magic around the wand, and Ollivander looked at him with a mixture of shock and curiosity. "My, my, Mr Potter…It has certainly been a long time since I have seen a wizard with such a strong magical core enter my little shop…And even more curious is that you have that wand."

Harry would've been laughing inside, but the first half of Ollivander's statement unnerved him. Strong magical core? The man wandmaker had never mentioned it to him in the previous timeline.

Ollivander must've thought that Harry was thinking about the wand, because he decided to elaborate. He spoke solemnly. "I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr Potter, and no single wand is ever same. But it so happens that the phoenix whose feather constitutes the core of your wand gave another feather – just another. It is curious that you should be the one to receive that wand, when its brother gave you that scar."

He pointed a wrinkled and shaking hand at the jagged scar on Harry's forehead, and he suddenly felt sick. It was a good thing that Hagrid came in at that very moment and asked, "Oy, what's takin' yeh so long, Harry?"

"Rubeus," Ollivander said smilingly, moving his eyes to the half-giant. "I take it you are keeping well?"

Hagrid puffed his chest. "Yes, Mr Ollivander."

"I remember they snapped your wand during your third year at Hogwarts, if I'm correct," he continued, and Harry wanted to smack him for reminding Hagrid about the Chamber of Secrets mishap fifty years ago, for which Hagrid had taken the blame. I'm going to get Hagrid cleared and his wand back this time around, he thought to himself vehemently.

Hagrid looked embarrassed. "Yes, Mr Ollivander."

"But you don't keep the pieces?"

Hagrid's face turned redder. "No," he said quickly, hiding his umbrella behind him.

Hagrid quickly paid Ollivander for Harry's wand and led the boy outside, muttering expletives all the way out for being reminded of his past experiences. Harry sympathized his friend, but couldn't do much. He didn't want to probe Hagrid about that, either. For now, he just wanted to get back to Privet Drive and continue doing anything productive during the time he had left.

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The weeks leading up to the start of term were filled with much nervousness and anticipation. However, Harry kept on practicing his Obfuscomency, and putting in a little Occlumency practice here and there so that, when the time came, he could capitalize on his rudimentary shields. The only problem was that he had much trouble "clearing his mind", as Snape had put it, but he found out that with a bit of hard work, it could be done.

Not to mention that Occlumency helped him cast non-verbal spells with little difficult. The different aspects of mind magic were webbed together so that mastering a single branch eased the learning of other mind magic. The few times Harry had gone to Diagon Alley after his trip with Hagrid, he was easily able to light up his wand with Lumos without verbally casting it, along with several other first-, second- and third-year spells he'd learnt previously.

Harry was also thinking about getting the Trace removed, but decided against it. Removing the Trace from an underage wizard was highly illegal, and he didn't even know who would be gutsy enough to do that for him. Furthermore, if Dumbledore would get the wind of it, he'd be in much deeper trouble that needed.

Meanwhile, the Dursleys, as expected, and much to Harry's happiness, left him alone and to his room. The only time he saw them was when he was doing chores, which wasn't much, since before leaving Hagrid had threatened them to treat him better or face the half-giant's wrath. The Dursleys did just that, while also pointedly ignoring him. They even began giving him adequate meals, although Harry tended to eat out with the money he'd withdrawn from Gringotts a while back.

It was a few days before the start of term when Harry met with an incident. As soon as he'd done preparing breakfast, Harry made to rush back to his room, only for Petunia to stop him.

"I know you will be going to that— that freak school of yours in a couple of days." She wasn't looking at him, instead staring in another direction, as if he was invisible. "Let me tell you, boy, your mother went there too, and look where she ended up! Look where she and your stupid father are right now, dead for meddling with that freakiness of yours! Freaks, the lot of you!" she shrieked.

"But you still have time. If you choose to stay here and forget all this nonsense, we will keep you in, and maybe treat you like Dudley. But if you find yourself taking up that offer and getting on that stupid express…" She looked at him, pure revulsion etched on her face, and hissed, "I never want to see your freaky face again."

Harry stared at her. When had Petunia ever expressed so much hate for him? Yes, she clearly didn't like him, but as he looked into her eyes, he saw that she was made of hate. Plus, he'd never ever heard his aunt talk to him like this before, either, and it sounded like she was serious. It was either forget about magic and stay, or go and never come back.

Inside, Harry was oddly pleased. If she wasn't going to accept him next year, he didn't care. This wasn't his home, anyway. He might as well live in Azkaban, which was more of a home than this godforsaken hell. At least his godfather would be there with him. Harry knew that Dumbledore would want him to come back for the protection his mother had given him, but right now, he just wanted out.

"Fine by me," he ground out, glaring at her.

His aunt's head snapped at him in brief shock, but then her eyes turned colder than the arctic. "Good riddance," she spat frostily. Harry simply walked up to his room, glad that he would no longer have to deal with the Dursleys.

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Miles away, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore sat alone in his office, a pensive frown on his face as stared at one of the peculiar instruments in his office, glass of firewhiskey long forgotten. First curiosity, then surprise, then fear, and confusion flashed across his face as he contemplated the situation presented to him. It couldn't be true. The protection Lily had set up was supposed to last for another six years, Dumbledore thought, finally taking a sip of the amber liquid next to him. He didn't know how it was possible, but one thing was clear.

The Bond of Blood Charm was failing. Rapidly.

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Thank you for taking the time to read! As always, if you like this story, hit that follow and favorite checkbox at the end if you haven't already. Reviewing would be nice – I love hearing your thoughts on the chapter, and any constructive criticism is welcome wholeheartedly, since it will undoubtedly help my writing skills.

A few notes on this chapter:

The part at the end means that Harry is not going back to the Dursleys next year – there isn't really any point in hiding it, not that I went to any great lengths to do it. The only thing I will hide is where Harry will be staying for the rest of his school years. All I can tell is that it is very important to the plot and the demise of Lord Voldemort.

Harry has a stronger connection with wand because he's (accidentally) travelled from the future. This idea is somewhat similar to S'TarKan's in HPNFP chapter twelve, Doing The Mungo Shuffle – Harry's magical energy have merged, giving him far greater raw potential and power than an eleven year old would normally have. Thus, he has the energy of a sixteen year old and an eleven year old together, which gives him a much greater advantage. It is also why he received such a strong response from his wand than he expected.

As for Dumbledore…no, he's not going to be bashed here. I really think that Dumbledore was doing everything he could do, if only his methods were a bit…manipulative. While he's not the epitome of goodness, I certainly love him as a character (as well as Snape – that's right, come at me. I guess I like Snape mainly because of Alan Rickman [God rest his soul] but, well, I can't help it).

Another note for my dear readers: the next update will be slow. For those who read the rest of my stories, or have checked out my profile just to waste time, you'll know that I have my final examinations coming up in a little over a fortnight, and occur from the 21st of Feb to the 15th of March. Therefore, the next chapter will come out on the 22nd of Feb, and the one after that on the 16th of March. Sorry, everyone, but it can't be helped. :(

Until then, stay awesome!