A Father's Love

By Teacherbev

Disclaimer: : I am not J.K. Rowling, I am not a multinational bookselling company, nor am I a multi-million dollar movie company, so I don't own anything that you recognize. I am a retired former teacher who likes to twist plots and play with characters, so enjoy.

Summary: AU Dumbledore told Harry that those we love never truly leave us. What if that statement was truer than even he ever imagined? No Slash.

Chapter 3: Meeting Professor Flitwick

The bright sunny late July morning started exactly the same as most summer mornings for the staff at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The staff occupied themselves with their individual tasks and pursuits until time for the splendid brunch that the house elves put out each day. The morning passed before the staff, at least those that were present in the castle since it was the summer holidays, leisurely made their way to the Great Hall for the midday meal. Headmaster Dumbledore requested that everyone in the castle be present for midday meals unless they were occupied with something that could not be left. Naturally, Potions Master Severus Snape was usually the only staff member that could reasonably claim that he could not leave at a critical time since he was brewing for the hospital wing, but even he couldn't use that excuse too often.

So on this beautiful Scottish midsummer's day, the large round table in the otherwise empty Great Hall was occupied by most of the current residents of the castle, at least the alive and human ones that is. Dumbledore was flanked, as usual, by Professor McGonagall on his left and tiny Professor Flitwick on his right with Snape, Pomfrey, Sprout, Vector, Filch, and Madame Pince filling in the other spots. Predictably, Professor Trelawney had simply ignored Professor Dumbledore which none of the other staff actually minded, Hagrid was busy with his 'innerestin' creatures, and there was no DADA Professor hired yet. The other professors had all left the castle for some holiday time away and so were not present.

Just as Professor McGonagall reached for the teapot to refill her empty tea cup, a nondescript grayish brown barn owl swooped overhead and dropped a small muggle envelope into her Mulligatawny soup, splashing Dumbledore's beard and Pomona Pomfrey's lap with the hot yellowish, lumpy soup. With a sharp cry of dismay, McGonagall rescued the now drippy mess and quickly removed the single sheet of thin lined notebook paper, discarding the soggy mess of the envelope on the not quite as pristine as it once was tablecloth.

With a sarcastic snarl twisting his unpleasant face, Snape bit out. "What blundering dolt sent that to the Great Hall instead of to your office, Minerva?"

With a quick glance at the neat name gracefully spelt out in the first line, she made a small squeak of surprise and then stated firmly. "Harry Potter has sent his acceptance letter."

Snape audibly growled as his lip twisted even more, accentuating the deep frown lines that made his face look much older than his actual age. With a dark glare of pure loathing he muttered, "Oh joy, the bastard's son is coming to school."

Unfortunately, his opinion seemed to be a decidedly minority one as the rest of his colleagues expressed differing sounds of anticipation and pleasure. Flitwick bounced happily on his cushioned seat as he clapped his hands together and demanded that Minerva read the short missive aloud, his high pitched voice squeaking in his excitement.

She shook the thin muggle notebook paper once importantly and then spoke clearly, her brogue showing in her excitement.

Dear Professor McGonagall

My name is Harry James Potter and I would like to attend Hogwarts next term. I live with my Muggle Aunt and Uncle so I will need assistance to acquire my school supplies.

Snape curled his lip on one side wordlessly and then muttered, "Spoiled pampered brat…"

Dumbledore's eyes seemed to sparkle even more in the sunlight as he remarked on how polite the boy sounded. 'Yes, yes leaving the boy with his muggle relatives had been a particularly brilliant idea on his part. Keep the boy humble and well grounded…' he mused, stroking his beard as he contemplated how he could mold young Harry into the perfect Gryffindor hero that the wizarding world would need.

I know that Professor Flitwick was my mother's favorite professor and wonder if he is still teaching at Hogwarts? If he is could he perhaps be presumed to fetch me for a trip to Diagon Alley? I would like to meet him and hear stories about my Mum at school if that would be possible.

"…just like that moronic git of a father. I knew that he would be…"

The twinkle in the old Headmaster's eyes dimmed somewhat. 'How in the world did the boy know anything about his mother? Perhaps Lily had been more forthcoming about her times at Hogwarts with her sister than he has suspected….'

I am aware that I have a trust fund to pay for educational expenses, so if Professor Flitwick could bring my Gringott's key (I don't know where it is and neither does my Aunt) than I can purchase my supplies myself.

Dumbledore lost his last twinkle as he sat up straight at this latest revelation. 'How did Petunia find out about Harry's Gringott's account…and is it just his trust vault…surely his spy among the goblins would have notified him if anyone had accessed the boy's money. That money would be needed to rebuild the wizarding world after the boy's death as he vanquished Voldemort once and for all. He let himself show a small smile on his aged face, 'after all, the boy will not survive another encounter with the Dark Lord, now will he? Yes surely they would both perish and leave him as the guiding light for the new wizarding world.'

"…exactly like his arrogant, bullying git of a demon spawned…"

Any day this next week would be fine and I don't need prior notice to go, so whatever day would be most convenient would be fine. I will remind whoever comes that I do live in a Muggle neighborhood so appropriate Muggle dress is essential.

Looking forward to meeting you soon,

Harold James Potter

Lord Potter

Godric's Hollow, Wales

"…thrice damned father. Lord bloody git Potter." Snape finished with pure venomous spite dripping from his silky voice.

The only sound present in the Great Hall after the poisonous speech from Snape was the echoing hum of seven people gasping in shock and surprise, followed by a cacophony of conflicting conversations as each one there tried to make their shocked outrage at Snape's vitriol and their comments about the astonishing letter heard.

Privately, Dumbledore agreed with his potion's master. He would have to salvage this situation before it spiraled even more out of his control. He needed the boy to look up to him as a mentor and savior so that he could mold the boy into a pure Gryffindor willing to sacrifice himself for the 'greater good'. How could he salvage this situation? He must take control and minimize the damage as quickly as possible. So he stood up and shouted 'silence' and just like the students, everyone fell silent and turned expectantly to watch their leader. Dumbledore turned and leveled a mostly faked disappointed glare at his youngest professor, a stern frown that promised a painful conversation later about the inappropriateness of Snape's comments and another long lecture about transferring the sins of the parents onto the innocent heads of their offspring was given without a single word being spoken. Snape cringed slightly down into his seat and carefully blanked all emotion from his face. The old mage knew he would have to take the younger man to task even though he didn't totally disagree with his sentiments. But he could not afford to show his hand this early in the game. He must carefully cultivate his caring grandfatherly visage to both the boy and his staff if he was to succeed in molding the boy to his prophesized task. And really he couldn't allow Severus to be too vindictive; it wouldn't do for the boy to decide it was easier to return to the muggle world than to suffer from the acidic and hateful potion's master. No, no, that would not do at all.

Dumbledore frowned slightly and forced his errant thoughts behind his tightest Occlumency barriers until his eyes regained a small portion of their normal twinkling, all the while thinking about how gullible these dolts actually were. "This does present something of a surprise. I had not thought Petunia was quite so cognizant of the wizarding world and did not believe that she would educate young Harry so thoroughly on our world." He absentmindedly ran his hand up and down his long white beard as he thought about what the wording of the missive could mean for his carefully orchestrated plans for young Harry. He had not wanted Harry to be aware of several of the things that he mentioned in his letter but he couldn't change that now. Hopefully, the boy would still see him as something of a savior for bringing him into the magical world and still look to him for guidance and mentoring, his brow furrowed as he fell silent, pondering how this changed the playing field and how he could best use it to his advantage. 'Hmm, if the boy knew of his heritage and resources, than it would be much more difficult to keep the boy under control especially if Severus torments the boy unmercifully. I wonder if the brat knows of the other schools that would jump at the chance to entice The-Boy-Who-Lived away from Hogwarts. They would dance in glee at the opportunity to slap me in the face with it at every occasion that they could find.'

Flitwick was speaking but Dumbledore was so adrift in his own thoughts that he had to repeat himself to the Headmaster. "I will be most happy to escort young Harry to Diagon Alley. I did so like his mother and it seems as if the boy is much like her." Flitwick squeaked again, finally managing to garner the Headmaster's attention. And without even listening to the Headmaster's hastily mumbled retort about his planning to send Hagrid, the tiny wizard hopped down from his chair and scurried toward the massive doors of the Great Hall, audibly making plans for the next morning as he practically danced in his happiness.

"Filius, I'm not sure that would be for the best…" but the tiny head of Ravenclaw house cut off any further objections that the still befuddled Headmaster could voice as he turned back once he reached the oaken doors, absentmindedly saying over his shoulder, "Must finish off some things so that all day tomorrow will be free to take young Harry for his supplies. Oh, and Headmaster…I will expect his Gringott's key in my office this evening. Oh, I shall have to tell him about the time that Lily…" the rest was lost as the diminutive wizard literally skipped out of the Great Hall, a smile splitting his face from ear to ear as he turned and disappeared down the long stone corridor.

As the rest of the staff unhurriedly left the Great Hall, excited conversations blended into a pleasant and pleasing buzz of excited chatter until only the now twinkle free and glum faced Headmaster and the sourpuss black eyed Potion's Master remained behind. As Dumbledore stood, stretching his tall, elderly body he laid a restraining hand upon his much younger teacher. Some of the displeasure he felt at the astonishing turn of events showed in his blue eyes as he met the man's glaring stare.

"You would do well to speak softly and tread carefully around young Master Potter, Severus. If he is as well informed as that letter makes it appear, he will have the power to make your life extremely unpleasant…he might even reopen the investigation into your past…and things left better buried…if you continue to insist upon treating the boy as if he is his father. A father, I might point out, that the lad probably has no memories of." Without a further word, Dumbledore strolled out of the Great Hall, his hands clasped behind his back as he hummed a tuneless song, hoping that his warning would be enough to get his spy thinking in the right direction. The idea that he might be wise to take his own advice to heart made his gut clench. He needed the solitude of his office to analyze and rethink his plans for the boy's first year. 'Hmmm, maybe if I…no, that won't work…I need to have the young Weasley boy befriend him before the sorting…maybe I can 'suggest' to Molly…' He continued on his circuitous way to his office, plotting and planning the whole way, unaware of the glaring and whispering of the portraits following his movements.

Sitting in solitude in the echoing Great Hall, Severus Snape dropped his head into his hands, his long greasy and lank hair falling in cascades to either side of his now unguarded face. Alone with only his thoughts, he allowed a shiver of foreboding and even slight fear to cross his face. He quickly tossed aside the old Headmaster's warning, 'Surely the brat has no concept of his political power, the old coot is merely trying to scare me away from his golden boy…he couldn't possibly mean it the way it sounded…' lost in his thoughts he shrugged his shoulders, and stood up. With another shrug that straightened out his long black robes, he plastered his usual unpleasant scowl upon his face and strode purposefully out of the Hall and down to the dungeons, pleasant thoughts of what he could do to the thrice dammed demon spawn of James Potter that would soon be helpless in his class and under his strong potion stained thumb making the corners of his mouth turn up in a cruel mockery of a smile.

Harry looked around the small bedroom that had been his since the night his father's wraith caused his terrified Uncle to tumble down the stairs and let a small satisfied smirk show. He had everything he wanted from the miserable place he had lived at in a small satchel, which he shrunk using the shrinking charm his mother had taught him, and stuck into the front pocket of his blue jeans. He made a stop at the bathroom and applied a hair smoothing charm to his unruly cowlick, followed by a sticking charm that would ensure his thick black bangs covered his scar completely and wouldn't blow off even in a high wind. Just for good measure, he had a faded red ball cap with a Grunning's Drill's logo on it for when they entered the Leaky Cauldron. Both his Mum and his Dad suspected that he would have become some sort of legend or celebrity since he had survived the Killing Curse that old Voldemort had sent after him the night they had been killed. Plus both James and Lily had watched the body of the Dark Lord vanish as they protected their infant son with their immortal souls. He was most likely believed to be dead though both Potter's knew that his soul had survived the vanquishing of his body and that it was just a matter of time before the evil but undeniably brilliant wizard found a way to regain a corporeal form. So it was most likely that the entire wizarding world hailed their son for both surviving the Killing Curse and killing the evil Lord Voldemort. And if the circumstances of his survival hadn't been blown all out of proportion and he wasn't being hailed as an infant savior than nothing had been lost as he didn't really mind wearing the ball cap at all. It would be much better to be prepared for the unreasonable adulation of the wizarding world and not need it, than to be mobbed and hounded because he didn't take the time to be disguised.

He practically skipped down the stairs, barely running his hand along the polished banister, calling out a cheerful good morning to his cousin as Dudley's door opened just as he sped past it. He could hear the soft murmur of voices downstairs so he knew that his aunt and uncle were already down in the kitchen. He had no way of knowing if someone was coming for him today, but he would be ready every morning until someone showed up. After all, he would rather be ready to leave at a moment's notice than have to stay any longer under his 'relatives' roof. Sure they had been much better the last couple of years but that didn't wipe away the memories of all the years before that and truthfully, a relationship based upon fear of retribution really isn't much of a relationship. Harry would only really miss Dudley and he suspected that he really wouldn't miss his cousin all that much once he had made some new friends at Hogwarts. He didn't mind his cousin anymore but they really had nothing in common.

"Morning Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon." Harry said cheerfully as he slid into his accustomed chair, nodding once to thank his aunt for the plate of food she sat down on the table in front of him.

"Looks good, thank you." He picked up a fork and ate a piece of ripe melon, savoring the wonderful taste of the summer ripe fruit as the juice dribbled down his chin as he hastily grabbed his serviette to wipe it before it could stain his clean shirt.

Vernon rattled his paper importantly before setting it down in Dudley's unused spot and turned his full attention on his nephew. "Are they coming for you today then?" He couldn't keep the hopeful note out of his voice as he looked expectantly at the boy that had terrorized his family.

"I'm not sure, but I hope so. I told them any day this week, but I would suspect that someone will show up today."

Petunia sank gratefully into her chair as Vernon nodded his head, a slightly feral smile spreading over his once fat face. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation as he spoke softly, "You'll not be returning then?"

Harry swallowed a mouthful of strawberry yogurt and nodded in agreement before saying, "I will try not to, but I can't be sure they won't insist upon bringing me home. But if they do, I will have a way to leave shortly after, by tomorrow morning at the latest."

Vernon grasped his wife's hand as they let out identical deep sighs. Vernon continued, turning to face his wife. "It's all set up then, Pet. You call as soon as the boy leaves and I'll sign the paperwork at work and be home as soon as I can clear my desk. I'll stop off at the bank for the cashier's check and the passports and plane tickets. You call the agent and tell them tomorrow's the day. We'll spend the night here just in case someone brings the boy home and then we'll all leave here tomorrow morning."

All three satisfied that their long made plans were fool proof; they turned back to their meals and ate in a contented silence that was broken less than fifteen minutes later by a sharp rapping knock at the front door.

"That's probably for me…shall I get it then?" Harry asked looking at the kitchen clock that showed it was only ten minutes to eight. No one else had ever knocked on their door this early before so it was most likely someone from Hogwarts for him.

As Harry went down the hall, eagerly bouncing on his feet in anticipation; his aunt and uncle followed just behind, walking forward with huge smiles of anticipation upon their usually dour faces. Dudley was just coming down the stairs, his hair still wet from his morning shower and he stopped three steps from the bottom, his face showing his mixed emotions between the thought of never seeing his cousin again warring with anticipation at the new adventure the move would make.

Harry turned the deadbolt, trying to ignore the bantering argument on who had been sent going on between his parents that was in his head, and pulled the door open, a smile of welcome on his face at the sight of the miniature little man standing bouncing on his tiny little feet on the front stoop.

"May I help you?" Harry knew the tiny wizard was his Mum's beloved Professor Flitwick, but his years at the Dursley's and his public school had made him a consummate actor as well as the years of lessons in Occlumency from his father. He had shared most of this parents memories of their times at Hogwarts over the years and the half goblin was just as distinctive as Hagrid in his own way. He looked forward to making his own memories with the tiny professor.

"Yes, yes… and you are Harry Potter…you look a lot like your father but I always loved your mother's bright green eyes." A wistful expression dimmed the cheerful man's eyes before it was replaced by a bright beaming smile that encompassed the Dursley family as well. "I am Professor Filius Flitwick and I have come to take Mr. Potter to Diagon Alley to do his school shopping for Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." He looked expectantly at the four grouped before him.

"Are there any questions you would like me to answer before I take young Mr. Potter here shopping?"

"No, no that's quite all right. My wife's late sister told her all we need to know about the school and your…world. Will you be bringing the boy…ah Harry…home tonight or should we pick him up in London tonight?" Flitwick couldn't know the hopeful note in Vernon's voice was that they would be allowed to pick him up so that they could finish their business with the boy even earlier and not anticipation for the boy's upcoming adventures in his new school.

"Well, I had planned to bring Mr. Potter back here tonight, but if it wouldn't be too much trouble…"

"My Uncle works in London, sir and I can just stay at the Leaky Cauldron until he gets off work if we get done too early…He knows how to find the Leaky Cauldron by King's Cross station." Harry quickly interjected, hoping to stay on the Alley longer so that he could do some special shopping without anyone knowing about it and he would need to conduct his business with the goblins at Gringott's without anyone finding out about it and trying to stop him.

Professor Flitwick stroked his chin as he thought, his unnaturally long and crooked fingers showing more of his goblin heritage. He nodded absentmindedly several times as if arguing with himself before answering. "That would be acceptable…it would make my return to Hogwarts easier…yes, yes, let's plan on that. What time would you be coming to get the boy so I can make sure to have him done in time?"

Vernon looked over at Petunia for guidance as he really had no intention of actually picking up the boy.

Petunia quickly filled the awkward silence. "He usually gets off at five but with the London traffic…how about we give Harry money for tea and he can eat at the pub and the barman can keep an eye out for him if Vernon gets caught in traffic?"

Flitwick agreed readily and Vernon made a show of pulling a twenty pound note out of his wallet and handing it to Harry. "This should cover both lunch and tea; can you change it into your money if you need to?"

Final arrangements being settled on for picking up Harry or at least that's what the Professor thought, the two wizards quickly left Number 4 Privet Drive. Harry turned and gave the three a jaunty wave goodbye, the four knowing it would be a lot more permanent than Flitwick imagined.

Harry could see the faint glimmer of a glamour spell on the tiny Professor when the morning sunrise struck the diminutive figure just right and assumed the little half goblin had not actually dressed like a muggle midget but was actually wearing his wizard's robes.

He smirked to himself as he thought about how astonished the tiny wizard would be if he knew exactly how much magic he already knew and how that knowledge had been gained and exactly who from.

As the two turned into a deserted alley just a block away from Number 4, Professor Flitwick turned to Harry and said, "Now I need to hold tight to you as we are going to be using Apparition to Diagon Alley in a moment. Apparition is a wizarding way of moving instantly from one place to another. You will feel like you are being squeezed through a small tube, it is uncomfortable but I assure you it is harmless and lasts but a brief moment before we arrive. You will be learning to apparate yourself after you turn seventeen. Now hold on tightly and don't worry once we start you cannot let go, the magic won't let you." Flitwick briefly explained before grabbing Harry in a tight hug and the two disappeared from the alley with a loud pop of displaced air.

Harry staggered slightly as the two landed, thankful that the tiny wizard didn't let go of him immediately but allowed him to regain his footing. He looked around at where they had landed and an involuntary "Woooh!" escaped from his lips as he turned his head in every direction, trying to take it all in. Hundreds of witches and wizards swarmed the alley, with children running around and through the crowds, calling out to friends. The whole alley had a circus or carnival atmosphere and most people were smiling and chatting as they stopped to chat with relatives and friends.

Shops off all sizes were squeezed into every available space and both bizarre and mundane items competed for selling space as shop clerks called out specials over the din of the crowds.

"Dragon's liver…on sale today only" competed with "Hot pumpkin pasties…cauldron cakes…fresh pumpkin juice" and a particularly shrill voice yelling "Pewter cauldrons…brass scales…stirring rods…get all your potion's supplies here" to make a delightful first impression of the wizarding world.

Flitwick took hold of Harry's elbow and guided him through the swarming crowds and towards an open area with outdoor tables and chairs as well as a small indoor area. A sign hanging overhead proclaimed the name of the small café as 'The Famished Fairy'. Most of the gleaming tables were empty, the brightly colored outdoor umbrellas shining in the morning sunlight, but a few early morning shoppers were already eating. "I though perhaps we could start with breakfast and I could answer some of your questions before we go to the bank since it is still quite early and we have the entire day to spend here."

Nodding his acceptance since he was too busy trying to see everything still, Harry let the diminutive Professor guide him to the table furthest from the other diners and the entrance to the small cafe.

The Dursley's stood frozen for several long minutes after the two wizards shut the door and disappeared down the cement walkway before Vernon grabbed Petunia in a tight hug and twirled her around, his exuberant shout of "He's gone…we're free!" was rivaled by the whooping scream of glee that Petunia let out. Dudley came down the last couple of steps, carefully avoiding his mother's swinging feet and joined in the celebration, his momentary feelings of sadness at the loss of his cousin overwhelmed by the anticipation of the upcoming move and vacation.

Petunia reluctantly pushed Vernon out the door while admonishing him. "Go on with you…the sooner you reach the office and sign the papers the sooner we can be shut of all this unnaturalness and on our way." Vernon practically danced down past the little ceramic garden gnomes to his car, a smile lighting his face from ear to ear and a delighted humming accompanied his departure that lasted the entire way to work. He smiled at drivers' who cut him off, waved his hand at a tired and startled work crew as his car crawled past the construction zone and gave the parking attendant a ten pound note for parking his car on this glorious morning.

Petunia shooed Dudley into the kitchen to eat his breakfast while she grabbed the cordless off the phone table in the hall. She hit the number 7 (for heaven) on the speed dial and practically bounced on her feet waiting for the agent to pick up. She had forgotten how early it was though, so she was only able to leave a message after the annoying beep.

"This is Petunia Dursley. We would like to leave tomorrow and will be staying tonight at Vernon's sister's house. You have the number there. I will be at home for a while making the final packing but after that you should call Marge Dursley as I will be out. Thank you." She hung up the phone and swiftly made her way up the stairs and pulled down the ladder to the attic. She carefully made her way up the steep stairs, after all it wouldn't do to fall on this most glorious day and break a leg. She carefully slid the pre-packed suitcases down the ladder and looked around at the stacked and packed boxes with a smile. Good thing the little freak hadn't actually entered the house or he might have noticed that almost everything was packed up in boxes that were stashed out of sight in the attic and the garage. Harry had assured them that no one would think it amiss that that car was out on the drive since the garage was stuffed with boxes and crates.

With the suitcases safely in the upstairs hallway, she dashed into her bedroom to grab the overnight case and began filling it with the toiletries and personal items they had not been able to pack up since they would need them every day. She called to Dudley to quickly shower and dress while she stripped the beds and sealed the bed linens into the last of the boxes that had been hidden in the spare bedroom. She was just stretching the last of the packing tape on the last box when Dudley came into the room, hair still damp from his shower, a smile splitting his face from ear to ear.

"Dudikins, you can begin hauling the cases downstairs to the front hall. Your father will be home as soon as he can and we can head off to your Aunt Marge's as soon as we're all loaded up. The movers should be here tomorrow and will pack up anything we've missed. Check your bedroom and make sure you haven't missed anything you will want for the next few weeks before we get to the new house." She reached up and patted her son's cheeks, her smile almost as broad as his was. He scampered off down the hall and grabbed up his knapsack that he would be taking on the plane and grabbed his gameboy and all the cartridges that he had been using as well as the stack of comic books he had bought just for the trip. He couldn't help a feeling of nostalgia as he said goodbye to the only home he had ever known.

As the two wizards waited for their breakfast to be delivered, the tiny Professor couldn't wait any longer, he just had to have the answers to the questions that had been circling in his head since yesterday.

"So Harry, how did you know that your mother thought of me as her favorite teacher? And did your Aunt tell you all about our world or did you meet someone else?"

Luckily the three Potters had planned out Harry's story and had drilled him in the answers so thoroughly that he didn't even hesitate. "My mother and father left me a trunk in the attic that was full of things they thought I might need if I was left at Aunt Petunia's. They explained all about the wizarding world and who I am and what I would need to know. I also had my mother's journals from when she was at Hogwarts and even a journal that my father started after he and my Mum started dating, though he was never as good about writing in it as she was. I've read them each several times. It's funny though, my cousin can't see anything but blank pages, and I always wondered about it until I read in my dad's journal about how he and my mum charmed them so that only someone with Potter blood could see anything."

Flitwick looked rather disappointed that he would be unable to read what Lily had written but he had a rather pleased expression as he thought about the excellent charms work that his favorite student had managed. As two large platters of eggs, bacon, mushrooms, and tomatoes were placed before the two, he smiled at the dark haired boy with Lily's eyes and began to tell the boy about his parents from a teacher's perspective.

Vernon signed the last of the stack of papers that his secretary had placed on his desk and sighed in contentment and an extra flourish to his signature. With the last paper signed he was now the new regional manager of Grunning's Drills new Atlanta office. He had negotiated long and hard but the company had agreed to purchase his old house and pay for the move to Georgia once he and Petunia found a new one. And with the huge bonus and the generous travel allowance the three were going to visit the attractions in Florida for several weeks as well as look for a new house in Atlanta's classier suburbs before he had to report to work at the new plant. He placed the last of his set of copies in his briefcase along with the very large cashier's check, told his secretary goodbye and nodded absentmindedly at the calls of good luck and best wishes from his staff as he strode out of the London Grunning's for the last time, feeling a burden he hadn't realized was there lighten more and more with each step. He stopped at the security desk as he turned in his employee badge and asked the guard on duty to call his lovely wife and let her know that he was on his way home before shutting the heavy glass doors and beginning the next phase of their life, free forever from the magical world and it's 'freakishness'.

Harry pushed his still half full plate away and looked around at the small café, trying his best not to stare at the wonderful menagerie of magical folk that now half filled the outdoor tables. He was startled back to reality by his new Professor calling his name in bemusement. "Harry, child if you are done now we can visit Gringott's, and then begin your shopping. We have lots to do today if you want to be done by the time your Uncle comes to pick you up you know." The diminutive wizard dropped a handful of silver coins on the table and hopped down from the too tall chair he had been perched on. He grabbed Harry's hand and the two set off down the now crowded alley and toward a tall and imposing marble building.

Harry stumbled up the worn marble steps, his gaze caught by his first glimpse of a stern visage goblin, his red and gold uniform crisp and starched in proper military fashion causing the boy to forget to pick his foot up. The goblin took no notice of the child, his warrior stance ready for any threat, his eyes taking in the entire alley spread out in front of him without pause.

Professor Flitwick quickly stuck a hand under Harry's arm, catching the boy before he could complete his fall and standing him upright once more. "All right there, Mr. Potter…er Lord Potter, that is."

Harry's cheeks glowed faintly pink as he stammered, "Please call me Harry…I mean if you like…I mean…"

Flitwick beamed at the boy, "Thank you very much Harry. I will of course have to refer to you by either Mr. Potter or Lord Potter while in class, but I would be please to call you Harry in private. And you may call me Flit in private. It is the name my mother called me by and I would be pleased to have you call me that."

"Uh, thank you Flit…could it be Uncle Flit? I'm just not comfortable…and I know that my Mum called you Flit…." He ducked his head, his cheeks flaring.

"Certainly, certainly, I shall be most pleased to be your Uncle Flit." Flitwick looked meaningfully at the goblin guard who had been playing close attention to the exchange even though it would take another goblin, or a half goblin, to notice anything.

The two continued on and Flitwick pushed open the burnished brass doors for the boy, leading him into the small, ornate entrance hall and stopping to let Harry read the engraving upon the inner doors.


Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but 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.(PS5)

Harry felt a short tingle of magic as he read the engraving and thought a question to his parents. 'Was that some kind of a curse or spell?'

His father answered him, 'Yes son it was, but most wizards and witches never notice that they complete the casting by reading the lines. You have just given a vow not to steal from the goblins. And you would do well not even to think bad thoughts while inside the bank.'

His mother added, 'James, stop frightening him. It's not as bad as that. It's more a subliminal warning than anything else. Your subconscious recognizes it and it discourages your conscious mind from thinking about stealing anything. If the goblins catch you they take care of the punishment and believe me you don't ever want to get the goblin nation mad at you. Now pay attention to your surroundings. It wouldn't do for Flit to notice you spacing out.' She shushed James from saying anything else to distract Harry.

Harry followed the Professor to a line without anyone else waiting in it and began conversing in a rapid and guttural language the Harry had never heard before. It sounded a lot like gargling when you had a sore throat or maybe what a Klingon with a head cold would sound like. He stifled a giggle at that mental image and paid attention as the goblin leaned over from his high counter and nearly fell off the front of his stool to see the little boy standing in front of him.

"Does Lord Potter have his key?" He asked in perfect English, barely a trace of his goblin accent audible in the gutturals.

"Ah, yes, I have it right here." Flitwick dug deeply into his wizarding robes and pulled out a tiny gold key. He had cancelled the glamour on his clothes when he had cast a simple eye color change charm on Harry when they had entered the Leaky Cauldron from Charing Cross Road that morning.

The goblin examined the key minutely, squinting so hard the wrinkles on his forehead looked like an old fashioned washboard. "It seems to be in order." One side of his lip curled up in something vaguely resembling a smile but which in actual fact was quite frightening to Harry. He turned and called out in his own language to a much younger goblin that was standing in a short row of other goblins much like bell boys at a posh hotel might.

"Tightfist will take you to your vault." Without even glancing at them again, he turned back to the huge ledger book that he had been making entries into with a large plumed quill.

Flitwick placed a comforting hand onto Harry's back and pushed him gently to follow after the young goblin. He leaned down and whispered into Harry's ear. "He will take us in a cart down to your school vault. There are other vaults belonging to the Potter's but you don't have access to them until you are older. I don't know the exact age since I haven't read the Potter will, but it is typically 14 for the older families, of which the Potters certainly are. Now this will be much like a muggle roller coaster ride. I must admit I am quite fond of them and visit carnivals in disguise frequently during the summer months when I have a chance to leave Hogwarts." He smiled broadly, both encouragingly and eagerly.

"I've never been on one, but I imagine I'll like it." Harry confessed shyly.

It was a toss-up whether Harry or Flitwick yelled louder at the twists and turns the rapidly moving little cart made, but it was certain they had both enjoyed themselves immensely.

Tightfist leaped with an agile grace out of the cart and turned to the two without pausing. "Key, please." He held out a long gnarled hand toward Harry and the boy gingerly place the tiny golden key into his palm.

Tightfist twisted the tiny key in the equally tiny keyhole and moved back as the door swung open, releasing a cloud of dust. Harry coughed a few times and blinked his eyes to clear them of the tears the dust had caused. His eyes opened unbelievably wide at the sight before him. He had known from his Dad's memories and teachings that he was quite wealthy but he had never had such actual proof staring him in the face before.

He could hear his mum and dad's chuckles echoing in his mind as he stepped forward and reached out a hesitant hand towards the massive piles of shiny golden coins. 'Don't be too shocked child…this is just your school trust vault. Wait to be shocked until you see the family vaults.' James explained.

'He's right Harry. I nearly fainted when James first showed me the Potter family vault and I did faint when he showed me the Heritage and Heirloom vaults. But enough for now, we'll show them to you later. Pay attention before Flitwick has a seizure from laughing.' Lily added.

Harry's cheeks flushed bright pink again and he shrugged sheepishly at the two laughing beings. "I knew from my father's journal, but that's a lot different from seeing it you know." He explained in embarrassment.

"Not to worry Harry. And nothing that goes on in Gringott's is ever mentioned to anyone else without your permission. It wouldn't do for them to speak about a client to anyone else. Gringott's is founded on both discretion and trust you know." Flitwick calmed his giggle down to explain.

"That is correct Lord Potter. And as one of our largest depositors you can be assured of our complete discretion at all times." Tightfist added solemnly as he handed Harry a black velvet bag embroidered with an ornate crowned 'G'. "This is a weightless moneybag charmed to hold five times as much as the outside dimensions. It is linked to your magic so that only you can withdraw coins from within."

Harry nodded his thanks as he filled the bag about halfway full with golden coins. He looked at Professor Flitwick, a small amount of confusion showing. "These are galleons, correct?"

Flitwick nodded slowly and as the three made their way back up to the lobby, the Professor gave Harry a short course on wizarding money and how much it was worth in comparison to muggle money.

As they stepped out of the cart and walked slowly across the lobby and out the double doors Harry clarified. "So the galleon is worth 17 sickles or 493 knuts? How do you keep the math straight in your head? Wouldn't it be easier to be 20 sickles and 500 knuts?"

"I suppose that magical folks are just used to it and I suppose that most folks just round it out to keep it straight. I know that I do." Flitwick admitted sheepishly.

"And 1 galleon is worth about 5 pounds and a sickle is about 30 pence or so?"

"As far as I can understand Muggle money, Harry, I don't use it very often and the paper just doesn't seem to be real to me. Now let's start with Madam Malkin's since that will take the longest to fit. We can leave after you are fitted and come back later to pick up your order. You said earlier that you had a trunk from your Mother and Father. Do you want to get another trunk or just use that one?"

Flitwick had led Harry down the steps and in the direction of the robe shop as they talked and stopped just outside the doors to finish speaking.

'You need to buy a multi compartment trunk but not in front of Flitwick so say the old one is fine.' James said in his mind as Lily added. 'Don't buy just the minimum of school robes, Harry. Tell Madame Malkin that you want the full school wardrobe with extra winter clothing and that should be fine. After you leave Flit we can go out into the muggle world for pants, vests, and socks. Muggles make a much better quality and variety of them. And much cheaper too.'

"Uh, my old trunks fine for this year. I might need to get a new one next year if I get too many books or something, but it should be fine for at least a year." Harry answered as he pushed open the door and entered the robe shop.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only 45 minutes or so, Harry thankfully pulled the door open and escaped the fussy seamstress' clutches. He didn't know there were so many choices of materials or styles in simple school uniforms and robes and he felt like his head would have split open if he hadn't had Lily's help with everything. Flitwick had been no help whatsoever and had just left Harry with Madame Malkin while he went and purchased the standard first years potion's kit since it was simply a matter of telling the shop clerk what year the kit was for and then paying over the three galleons and seven sickles it cost. The first year kit contained the recommended cauldron, crystal phials and brass scales as well as the potion's ingredients not supplied by the school. He had also picked up the telescope for astronomy since the school recommended that all students start out with the same one and he had to pass the shop that sold them on his way back to Madame Malkin's anyway.

With an involuntary shudder of thanks, Harry looked around at the now much busier street and noticed the Professor heading toward him with a tall ice cream cone in each hand. He gratefully accepted the offered cone and licked it all around, thankful that wizarding ice cream didn't melt down the sides of the cone at all.

With a hand under his arm, Flitwick led Harry out of the traffic and over to a small wooden bench in front of the bookstore. "Eat up, Harry, you'll need the strength to make it through the bookstore, and then getting a wand you know."

As he finished licking the last of the ice cream and began to crunch the delightful cone he asked the Professor. "Uncle Flit what did you do with the things you were going to buy for me? Do we have to pick them up later like the robes?"

With a chuckle, Flitwick reached into his own robes and pulled out three shrunken bags and leaning back he reached into the knapsack on Harry's back and stored them into the sack. "Just touch them with your wand when you get home, Harry and they will enlarge all by themselves. No magic from you…oh yes, I must explain as it is slightly different from when your parents went to school. Now you must not do any magic away from school. I know that it used to be just no magic in front of Muggles that don't know about the magical world but the Ministry for Magic passed a law about ten years ago that no under-aged witch or wizard can do magic away from school except to save themselves from danger. And that is strictly investigated. The penalties are quite harsh too so don't try to sneak in any magic before you come to Hogwarts, child. The Ministry requires a tracking charm to be placed on each wand sold to an underage magical being."

Harry blanched, his appetite for the last of his cone fading. "How about accidental magic…will I get in trouble for that?"

"Oh, no…no not at all; as accidental magic is done without a wand. The tracking charm is on the wand and accidental magic is unfocused so it's not tracked at all. And of course anything done before you go to Hogwarts is not counted at all unless it involves Muggles that need to be obliviated…oh that's having your memory modified so that you don't remember anything about the magical world. Wouldn't do to have the Muggles at large knowing about us. Might be worse than the witch burnings of the Dark Ages. Muggles are much better at finding and disposing of each other now aren't they. No, that wouldn't do at all." Flitwick shuddered involuntarily as he banished the remains of the two ice creams with a flick of his wand and then whispered a 'scourgify' to clean them both up.

"Now, wand first or bookstore?" he queried.

Harry looked at the increasing crowds and frowned. "Maybe the bookstore so that we can avoid some of the afternoon crowd. Is that okay?"

Flitwick merely nodded and the two entered the bookstore behind them. Over two hours later, with eight textbooks, six reference volumes and three books that he simply wanted, Harry had lightened his purse by a whopping 31 galleons and the two headed back to the Leaky Cauldron for a light lunch and some more talking.

The Professor turned out to be a treasure trove of information that neither of his parents had ever shared before and proved to be very insightful on the history of the wizarding world for the last ten years that neither Lily nor James had any inkling of. The three Potters had listened intently to the intricacies of post-Voldemort politics and both the elder Potter's were absolutely outraged at the claims of 'Imperious' that had been allowed several of the most prominent and wealthy of the Death Eaters. Though Lily had to hold back James from manifesting when he heard of Sirius' imprisonment and only the thought that Padfoot had killed twelve Muggles while trying to catch Pettigrew kept him from lashing out. He had finally calmed down enough to acknowledge Lily's logical argument that they needed to more fully investigate what had happened before they did anything irrevocable and rash.

Harry had had a hard time keeping the inner conflict from showing up on his face while his parents went ballistic but he had managed to keep the Professor from getting too suspicious and now they were heading back out into the Alley to get the final item from his school list…his wand.

He couldn't contain his excitement from making him bounce with each step he took closer to Ollivander's. His parents had been teaching him magic all along in his mindscape but that wasn't the same thing. And the Potter's predisposition for acumen in wandless magic had helped greatly but he still couldn't wait for his first wand.

As soon as the door into the wand shop closed behind him, Harry turned quickly to face the queer feeling of magic pooling behind him and raised his hands automatically, ready to defend himself from the unknown wizard disillusioned and hiding in the corner.

Startled eerie moon like eyes blinked slowly as a startled eyebrow raised almost to his wispy grey hairline, Mr. Ollivander couldn't keep the surprise at being caught out from registering on his face. It had been many long years ago since a child had been able to sense his magic enough to focus on his location. He steeled his expression and began to speak. "Ah, Mr. Potter I was wondering when I would see you. I remember selling your parents their first wands. James' was an eleven inch mahogany, very pliable and quite good for transfiguration while your mother's was ten and a quarter inch and rather swishy. She was quite good with charms as Professor Flitwick can no doubt verify. Now I say sold but it's actually the wand that chooses the wizard after all. Let's see what we can do for you, boy, hmmmm…." With that he disappeared back into the dusty and rickety shelves of his shop all without Flitwick or Harry saying a single word to him.

Harry shook his head to clear the mental cobwebs and his annoyance at his parents' laughter and called up a small amount of his magical core into his right hand. He sent out a single pulse into the wand shop, hoping to instigate a magical resonance and vibration with the wand most compatible to his own magical signature. He felt an answering shiver of magic and looked down the last aisle to a shimmering box covered in dust and down almost to the floor. It shook as the magic in the wand responded to the magic from Harry's core and the box slipped forward several inches until it was poking out of the stack just at Mr. Ollivander's ankle height.

Ollivander came around the corner from the back of his shop, a wobbling pile of dusty wand boxes held high in his hands. They moved back and forth with each step the elderly wand maker took and seemed to remain upright only through the judicious use of magic. "Now, let's just start with these and see if we can find the right wand for…." The rest of the sentence was lost as the old wizard tripped over the extended wand box and went down with a loud oomph of pain. Wands and open boxes flew every which way, sparks shooting out as they came into contact with each other and the incompatible cores reacted violently. Bright fireworks shot out and caused boxes to fall and more wands to fly as the shop exploded with magic like a muggle grenade. Ollivander slid under the bottom of the counter while Harry and Flitwick covered their heads with their hands, hoping to protect themselves from the exploded magic as much as possible. An old hand reached out from under the counter and a quavering voice yelled out, "Finite incantatem!"

Immediately the wands and boxes fell to the ground while the beams of various colored magic fizzled out and the dust settled down covering everything in a thick layer of grey. Three sharp sneezes heralded Mr. Ollivander's exit from under the safety of his front counter while Harry just blinked slowly, trying to clear his eyes once again from the dust.

Flitwick merely bounced on his feet and muttered "Oh, my…oh, my…" over and over again while his eyebrows disappeared into his white hair.

Harry shrugged sheepishly and looked down at his trainers while muttering, "Sorry about that." While trying to hear his own voice over the loud guffaws and the annoying cackles that his Mum and Dad weren't even trying to stifle.

It took almost a minute for Mr. Ollivander to return to reality enough to understand what had happened before he turned his odd silver eyes on the despondent wizard child standing slump shouldered in front of him. Another moment passed before Ollivander's shoulders started to shake, then his mouth flew open and loud dust raising guffaws filled the air.

"Why Mr. Potter, I expected great things from you…just not quite so soon I must admit. And why should you be sorry that I tripped over my own stock. It is, after all, my own fault for not assuring the walkway was completely uncluttered." His voice still gave little hiccoughs from his laughter as he talked.

Harry shrugged again and looked at the mess of mixed up wands and boxes carefully while Mr. Ollivander pulled out his own wand again and mutter several spells under his breath. First the dust all vanished, banished somewhere unknown. Then the wands shivered and shook before finding their own way back to the proper boxes. And as a wand appeared in each box, that box flew up and found a space back on the proper shelf until finally there was only one box still on the floor, refusing to return to its proper space.

"Curious, most curious…" muttered Mr. Ollivander as he bent over and swooped up the errant box. He opened it gingerly and his eyebrow disappeared once more into his hairline.

He turned and looked closely at Harry, analyzing him much closer than he had before. He looked startled at what he discerned and began to speak once more, totally creeping Harry out as he did so. "I remember every wand I ever sold, Mr. Potter….I wonder…." He slowly picked the wand up from its box and handed it, grip end first to Harry.

Harry hesitated, feeling the power of the wand before he took it, slowly closing his fingers around the polished wood. He felt a warmth flowing up his arm as the wand began to glow an unearthly golden color, lighting up his face and casting long shadows around the now clean shop. As his fingers finally closed a great gush of multicolored sparks whooshed out the end of the wand and shimmered in the air, forming an ethereal phoenix that sparkled for almost a minute before dissolving into individual twinkling lights that slowly faded, leaving a flash memory on the retinas of those watching.

Flitwick sat down heavily on an old creaky wooden chair that had been standing in a corner as he exclaimed, "Great Merlin's Underwear…what was that?"

Ollivander leaned heavily against the tall wooden counter of his shop and wiped his sweaty brow. "I'm not exactly certain. I have never witnessed such a reaction from a wand to a wizard. Let me research for a bit and I'll owl you if I find anything." Forgetting the still speechless Harry and the overwhelmed Charms' Master still in the front of his shop, Mr. Ollivander disappeared into his back room. All they could hear was his footsteps disappearing down the steps into a cellar or basement before the echoing silence took hold.

Harry turned and looked at Flitwick and shrugged his shoulders apologetically. "What now? I assume this is my wand. What do I pay him?"

Flitwick frowned and then called out, "Mr. Ollivander….Mr. Ollivander…How much for the wand?"

"On the house!" was the only thing they heard coming up through the floor before silence once again took over the small shop.

AN: Sorry for the very long time between updates on any stories but I had a bad reaction to the cataract surgery in May and June. Turns out I am allergic to all four of the eye drops used post op and then had to wait to get a prescription for new glasses. Then the first prescription was wrong and I couldn't read anything with them and was getting more frustrated every day between not being able to read anything and blinding headaches I was so frustrated I told my daughter I would prefer to have the cataracts back. But it's all straightened out now…six months later and I can finally read a computer for more than 30 minutes without getting a headache. My glasses still aren't right but I can't afford to buy any more after having to purchase two complete sets that are worthless. I hope to get a chapter up for Paddy's Little Pup next as I have one about half typed. Thank you again for your patience and your reviews, they encouraged me during a dark time.