A/N
So I'm not entirely happy with how this chapter ends, but I'm trying to keep the way people act fairly in character. It doesn't stay too important for very long though, so I'm happy enough with leaving it. Regardless, I hope you enjoy and feel free to leave a review.
Chapter 3 – A Whole New World
Weeks passed with no response, to the point that Jon and Harry began to lose hope. Every day the mail would come and Jon or Harry would fetch it without being asked in the hope of finding something for them in that day's bundle. Every time there was a knock on the door, they would both pause and listen, hoping for an unfamiliar voice to ask for the Potter boys. But no mail arrived for them, and no one came.
It was the night of the 31st of July, and a storm had broken out across the country, a torrential downpour with thunder and lightning. All sane people were inside, tucked up in their beds or sat by a source of heat to wait out the rain. Harry and Jon were huddled together in their cupboard under the stairs, sharing the small amount of chocolate they had hidden away for their birthday. "Happy birthday." They whispered to each other, as they broke the bar in two. Each savoured what little they had, taking small bites to make it last as they did almost every year since they started school and had learned when their birthday was. The storm continued overhead, each flash of lightning accompanied by thunder that rolled over the neighbourhood.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Came a thudding at the door, almost as loud as the thunder outside. Bang! Bang! Bang! It came again, bringing an ever so slightly quieter thudding from above as Vernon stomped down the stairs. "Who's there!" He cried, a tremble evident in his voice.
Bang! Bang! Bang! The knocking came again, so strong that it shook the house. There was a crash, and the howl of the wind could be heard as the door that had held so firmly against the storm hit the floor of the hallway, unable to withstand the banging on the door. "Who are you!" Vernon yelled, the tremble replaced by terror in his voice, "I'll call the police! I'll have you arrested!" There was a groan of wood, and the wind was muted once again.
"Sorry abou' tha'." Said a voice with a thick west country accent. "Name's Hagrid, I've been sent to get Harry and Jon Potter and give 'em an introduction to our world. So, where're the lads?"
"Here!" Harry shouted, before Vernon could reply. Vernon rushed to block the hall, but wasn't quite quick enough to stop Hagrid sliding aside the bolt on the door of the cupboard under the stairs. Hagrid swung open the door, and saw two small boys peering back with wide eyes. The sight that greeted the boys was almost as surprising to them as finding Harry and Jon Potter kept underneath the stairs was to Hagrid. Hagrid, to put it simply, was a giant. At least 9 feet tall and twice as wide as any normal man, Hagrid dwarfed even their uncle Vernon's massive size. His long shaggy hair and thick black beard only added to his imposing look. Hagrid stepped back towards the door and the foot of the stairs where Vernon stood frozen, too shocked to move, to allow the Potter boys to leave their cupboard.
Hagrid took in the sight of these boys he hadn't seen in ten years. Both were of slightly below average height for their age and were far too skinny. Harry had the dark hair, messy in the same way James' hair had always been. Jon's auburn hair had darkened ever so slightly since he was young, and was far more controlled than his brother's. Each had pale faces and the brightest green eyes that Hagrid had seen since Lily Potter was alive.
"What were ya doin' in there?" Hagrid asked.
"It's where we sleep," Jon replied simply, "Are you from Hogwarts?"
Hagrid's eyes darkened as his massive frame turned slowly in the hallway to face Vernon. "The sons of James and Lily Potter sleepin' in a cupboard! You better get outta my sight Dursley, before I forget the punishment for muggle baitin'! An' you better believe I'll be tellin' Albus Dumbledore abou' this!" Vernon turned white as Hagrid advanced on him, not used to being so physically outmatched by a clearly 'freakish' person. He turned tail and ran as fast as he could, stumbling up the stairs and ushering his family into the main bedroom, slamming the door closed behind him.
"Righ', sorry abou' tha'." Hagrid said, turning with a slightly sheepish expression on his face. "Name's Rubeus Hagrid, I'm the keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall got your letter, an' Headmaster Dumbledore sent me to take you ta Diagon Alley, where we magical folk do our shoppin'. I think it best we be goin' now, I'll take ya to the Leaky Cauldron and we can stay there th' night."
Unable to do more than nod, the Potter boys gathered their meagre belongings into their school backpacks and followed Hagrid out the door to the curb. He raised his pink umbrella as if hailing an invisible vehicle, and a huge purple triple-decker popped into existence in front of him. Hagrid stepped on as if this was commonplace, which Jon realised was entirely possible in this strange new world. "Three for the Leaky Cauldron please, Ern." Hagrid said to the driver, handing over a few silver coins. He ushered Jon and Harry down the bus before relaxing with a sigh into a bed halfway down, indicating that the boys should do the same.
The bus ride was almost traumatic. The bus flew through the streets at incredible speeds, just barely swerving to avoid collisions with the other vehicles. When the road became too busy for the reckless driving, rather than slow down the driver pulled a lever above him causing the whole bus to thin and stretch vertically. Needless to say, the boys were more than a bit happy when the bus came to a stop and the conductor yelled, "Leaky Cauldron!"
The Leaky Cauldron was a dingy little pub in London, very out of place compared to the far more modern buildings on each side. The air inside had a thin veil of smoke adding to the ambiance and the various occupants sat huddled around their tables drinking, smoking pipes, and talking in low tones. Hagrid strode across the bar, followed closely by Jon and Harry. "Alrigh' Tom!" he called, greeting the old man behind the bar who stood cleaning a dirty glass with an even dirtier cloth.
"Hagrid! Fancy the usual?" The barman, Tom, replied with a toothless grin.
"No thanks Tom, I'm on official Hogwarts business. I need a room for me, and a room for these lads to share. And a bit of dinner for each of us, I think." Hagrid said. Tom peered past Hagrid's bulk, his eyes widening as he took in the two boys before him.
"Well I'll be, that's Harry Potter!"
Silence came over the room as the admittedly few people in the pub all looked up at Tom's statement. There were a few gasps, and suddenly the loud scraping of chairs as the occupants of the pub all rushed forward at once to greet them.
Harry shifted to stand more behind his brother, both astounded at this turn of events. They were flocked, people grasping at their hands or their clothes, all attempting to introduce themselves over the din of the others. Jon was starting to panic, struggling against his instincts to lash out against this onslaught, when Hagrid stepped in front of the boys and with an arm around both of their shoulders ushered them away from the crowd. Some tried to follow, but were cowed by the angry glare Hagrid sent their way.
Hagrid guided them to a table by a dark fireplace, gently nudging the boys toward two of the three chairs before relaxing into the other with a sigh. He raised his umbrella to point at the fireplace, setting it alight as flames shot from the umbrella's tip.
"Agh, I'd appreciate if you don' mention tha'. I'm not really meant to do magic outside o' school." Jon and Harry nodded, too shocked at the rapid pace of change to do much more. Hagrid was lost for what he was meant to do next, he certainly hadn't been expecting all this. Silence reigned for a time, as each took a moment to be warmed by the fire and catch their breath.
"Excuse me, Mr Hagrid?" Jon asked.
Hagrid turned to look at him, "Just Hagrid, lad."
"Hagrid," Jon started again, "Could you tell us what all that was about? We only just heard about magic when the Hogwarts letter came, and we know nothing about it or this world."
Hagrid let out another sigh, running a plate sized hand across his bearded face. "I suppose I've gotta start from the beginning, don' I?" He paused a moment, gathering his thoughts as Tom arrived with the keys to rooms 12 and 13 and a plate of pie and chips for each of them. "Your mum and da' were Lily and James Potter, two of the best people I've ever known. And there was a man, a man so evil most wouldn' dare say his name, but just this once… his name was V-V-Voldemort." Hagrid told the tale of how a prominent pureblood Lord and a genius muggleborn witch stood together against the most evil Dark Lord in modern history. Of how they caught this evil man's attention and payed the ultimate price for it, and of how Harry destroyed that evil man and became famous all across the world as the only known survivor of the killing curse. "Only," Hagrid concluded, "Some folks, me included, don' think You-Know-Who died that night. He's still out there I reckon, biding his time until he can return."
"So, he's a celebrity for our parents being murdered, and I'm the heir to a Lordship?" Jon asked, eyes wide at this incredulous turn of events. It all seemed too fantastical to be true, but fantastical seemed to be the norm now.
"This is mad…" Harry muttered, staring at his hands clasped in his lap.
Hagrid sighed, for what seemed the umpteenth time that day. "S'been a very long day, best you two get to bed I think. Tomorrow we'll go shoppin' and get what you need for school, then I'll head to Hogwarts an' ask Dumbledore what's next." Hagrid rose to his feet and led the way upstairs. Rooms 12 and 13 were on the first floor, so it didn't take long before Hagrid was biding them a goodnight after agreeing to meet at 8 the next day for breakfast.
Jon and Harry walked tiredly into their room, Jon making sure to lock the door behind his brother, his little brother actually. Neither boy had known who was the older twin, but by Hagrid's account Jon was the older of the two by approximately twelve minutes. Harry was sat upon a bed staring off into the middle distance, completely oblivious to the world around them; he had a look on his face that Jon recognised as one of disbelief.
Jon sat down beside Harry, and lightly nudged his shoulder. "This world is crazy," Harry spoke, "I don't know what to do." He turned, looking into Jon's eyes for some sort of comfort or reassurance.
"We'll make what we can of it. If our family were lords then we'll have money, maybe even a house somewhere. We've finally gotten away from the Dursleys and we're going to learn magic; for now, we're safe." Harry nodded, relaxing into Jon's side ever so slightly. "Come on," Jon continued, "I don't see tomorrow being any less crazy than today, and we've got proper beds to sleep in tonight." Harry was already beginning to feel drowsy as he let go of his brother and moved to get into bed. Jon did the same, both climbing into their beds and falling asleep within moments of hitting the pillow.
Jon woke early the next day as he was conditioned to and stretched, lacking the familiar cramps that came with sleeping in the cupboard under the stairs. As Jon lay in what had to be the most comfortable bed in existence, the events of the frantic previous night slowly came back to him. It still seemed rather unbelievable. His brother was famous, he was going to be a lord one day, and they had actually managed to escape number 4 Privet Drive with the help of a friendly giant.
Harry began to stir in his bed, prompting Jon to get up and shower in the attached bathroom. Just as Jon stepped out ten minutes later wrapped in a towel, Harry rose from his bed and stepped past him with a muttered "Good morning". When Hagrid came to knock on their door a few minutes before 8, both boys were dressed in a fresh set of Dudley's hand me downs.
Breakfast was a quiet affair, as each ate and drank their fill, before Hagrid told them his plan for that day. "Righ', so first I'll be taking ya to Gringotts, the wizard bank ran by Goblins. I've got the key for your trust vault here which'll have plenty for all you need. Then we'll fetch you a trunk each. Your clothes after tha', your school things, an' we'll finish off with your wands. Busy day lads, best get started." Hagrid led the way out of the Leaky Cauldron into what appeared to be a dead end, and tapped the bricks of the wall in front of him with his umbrella, in a pattern Jon did his best to memorise. For a moment nothing happened, then the wall seemed to fold back into itself to reveal an archway into Diagon Alley, magical Britain's premier shopping district.
Diagon Alley was fairly quiet at such an early hour, but was still far from empty and the vibrant storefronts advertising all sorts of magical devices and services kept Jon and Harry looking around in awe all the way to the front of the bank. Gringotts itself was a huge marble building that stood out all the more with the two short, pale-skinned creatures standing guard outside with large battle axes in hand. Both creatures had pointed ears, heavy brows, and long noses; they could only be the goblins Hagrid had spoken of. Inscribed into the wall beside the two large doors was a poem that Jon paused a moment to read.
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.
"Ominous." Jon muttered to himself. He followed the other two into the bank, coming to stand beside Hagrid as he approached one of the available tellers.
"'Ello there, Mr Jonathon Potter and Mr Harry Potter here to access their trust vault." Hagrid said, smiling at the goblin, who looked up with disdain.
"And do the Misters Potter have their key?" The goblin asked, peering over their counter to see Jon and Harry.
"Oh, I've got it here somewhere, just a mo!" Hagrid said, reaching into one of the many pockets on his long coat. Rummaging around for a minute, Hagrid eventually pulled out a small golden key and a letter, passing both to the goblin with a satisfied smile. "I'm also here on behalf of Albus Dumbledore. To get the you-know-what out of vault you-know-which." Hagrid said, trying and failing to be discreet.
The goblin inspected the key closely then opened the letter, quickly reading its contents. He gestured a smaller goblin over, then passed the key back to Hagrid, who in turn passed it to Harry. "It is your vault after all." Hagrid said, to which Harry smiled with no small amount of wonderment in his eyes.
"Griphook will escort you." The goblin said, lowering his eyes back to his coins in a clear dismissal.
Jon made to follow Griphook but hesitated a moment, turning back to the goblin teller. "Excuse me?" he asked. The goblin raised his eyes to look at Jon, but made no further response. Jon hesitated again, slightly intimidated by this goblin's demeanour, before continuing. "Is the trust vault all that the Potter family has left?"
"There is more, but the main family vault cannot be accessed until House Potter has a Lord. As you are not of age, you cannot be a Lord unless legally emancipated. Your account manager will have more details." The goblin answered.
"Would it be possible for me to meet my account manager today?" Jon asked, recognising the hint.
The goblin once again gestured to a smaller goblin nearby and held a whispered conversation, before turning back to Jon. "Account Manager Barchoke is available. Follow Goldskin." Jon nodded and turned, glancing back at Hagrid and Harry who hovered behind him, both looking uncertain.
Jon tried for a reassuring smile. "Go on you two, get enough money out for both of us Harry. I'll try to be quick, I just want to know how things stand for the family." Hagrid nodded, happy enough with that. He and Harry went toward the vaults, following Griphook, while Jon went the opposite way with Goldskin.
Jon followed Goldskin in silence as they navigated a labyrinth of corridors. Jon was grateful for his guide, as the identical corridors continued to twist, turn and intersect to such a degree that Jon was lost after the first few minutes. Eventually, Goldskin came to a stop in front of a door that seemed indistinguishable to the many other they had seen on the way. The goblin knocked on the door with two short raps, and waited. "Enter." A deep baritone voice called from inside. Goldskin pulled the door open and gestured for Jon to enter, closing the door behind him as he did.
Account Manager Barchoke was quite large for a goblin, especially when compared to the goblins Jon had seen so far. He was sat behind a traditional wooden desk, one that wouldn't have looked out of place in the office of a lawyer or accountant, in a large high-backed chair. On Jon's side of the desk sat a smaller chair, which Jon took at Barchoke's prompting. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice." Jon said, distinctly nervous now he was sat across from this imposing figure.
"Yes," Barchoke said, "What is it you want?" Jon swallowed his nerves, evidently goblins were not ones for small talk.
"I wish to know the state of my accounts." Jon said, doing his best to keep his voice even.
Barchoke nodded, reaching into his desk to retrieve a thick folder. Flipping it open, Barchoke began to read. "The Potter accounts have been largely inactive since the death of your parents, only receiving annual income from Potter businesses. The main Potter family vault contains ninety-five million, three hundred and seventy-one thousand, five hundred and ninety-eight Galleons, seven Sickles and eleven Knuts. You share a trust vault with your brother, which contains two thousand Galleons and is refilled to that amount from the main Potter vault on your birthday each year. Both of your parents had personal accounts which are now shared between you and your brother, holding a total of one hundred and sixty-two thousand Galleons, fourteen Sickles and eleven Knuts." Barchoke closed the folder and set it down on his desk with a resounding thud.
Jon sat stunned. That sounded like a lot. "Can you tell me what that all is in British pounds?"
Barchoke considered that for a moment before replying. "Roughly, just under four hundred and sixty million pounds."
That was a lot. "Do we have any property? And what businesses?"
Barchoke flipped open the folder once more, to a page further in this time. "Potter Potions is a major supplier of healing potions and beauty products to the magical world. It is largely autonomous and produces a steady annual profit, so doesn't require any input." Jon nodded, relieved he could leave the business to handle itself, as Barchoke flipped to a new page. "With the destruction of the cottage in Godric's Hollow, only Potter Manor remains. I can provide a portkey to this destination for you to use at your convenience. This is available for a fee of five Galleons which I can deduct from your trust vault."
Jon nodded, knowing how useful a secret place to run to could be. "Yes please."
Reaching into his desk, Barchoke retrieved a small, unmarked silver disc which he held to the paper. He muttered a few phrases in a deep guttural sounding language which must have been the goblin's own tongue, causing the disc to glow blue before passing it to Jon.
Jon pocketed the disc and stood, thanking Barchoke for his time. Outside, Goldskin was stood exactly where he had been when Jon entered the room a few minutes before. Goldskin immediately turned, walking at a brisk pace back the way they had come, Jon deciding to follow rather than be left behind.
Once again, Jon was led through the identical twisting corridors which eventually led back to the main foyer, where Harry and Hagrid were waiting by the door to Diagon Alley. "Jon!" Harry yelled excitedly, rushing over to his brother, "We're rich! We had thousands of gold coins in that vault, Galleons they're called. Hagrid made me get a few hundred for just this shopping trip."
Jon smiled, amused by Harry's enthusiasm. "You have no idea little brother," Jon said, leaning in so he could talk quietly, "You can't tell anyone about this, cause it's safer if people don't know, but we're millionaires!" Harry's jaw dropped, clearly as blown away as Jon had been. "Come on, let's go shopping." Jon said with a grin, pulling his brother to meet Hagrid and head out the door.
Jon was exhausted. Who knew that shopping could be so tiring? They started with trunks to store their future purchases in, that could become feather-light at a command and were locked securely with their magical signatures. They went on to buy new clothes, both school clothes and casual clothes that actually fit, and all the other supplies and books they needed for school. Hagrid had to convince Jon that he didn't need to buy any more than what was on the reading list, and had almost succeeded by telling him about the massive Hogwarts library that was famed around the world for how extensive it is. That convinced Jon to leave the majority of his extra books behind, but he had insisted on buying a book on British magical culture and another on recent magical history, quoting his future position in the culture as a need to learn about it.
All that remained was to buy a wand. Hagrid led the way to a shop called Ollivander's, who claimed to have sold wands since the year 382 BC. The outside of the shop didn't look like much, the gold lettering declaring the name of the shop was peeling and the window contained nothing but a single wand lying on a faded purple pillow. Upon entering, the shop seemed bare except for the for the thousands of narrow boxes that lined the walls. There was a thin layer of dust in the air, and no employees were in sight.
"I'd best leave you to it," Hagrid said, "I've a few errands to run before shops start shutting. Meet me back in the Cauldron when you're done." Without waiting for much of a response, Hagrid exited the shop leaving the Potters together in the silent shop.
"H-Hello?" Harry called out hesitantly.
"Harry Potter." A voice came from behind, startling both boys. A tall, slender old man with white wispy hair had appeared, sitting on a spindly chair in the corner of the room. Neither boy could say whether he had been invisible, or had simply sat so still and so quietly as to go unnoticed. The man rose to his feet and walked behind the counter, peering at Harry first and then Jon. "And Jonathon Potter. I expected I'd be seeing both of you soon. My name is Garrick Ollivander, it seems only yesterday I was selling your parents their first wands."
"Um, yes Mr Ollivander, we'd both like to get wands." Jon spoke, very uncertain about this odd character.
"Of course, of course. Harry, you step up first." Ollivander said, pulling a tape measure from behind his counter. "Which is your dominant hand?" Harry lifted his right in response, and the tape measure flew from Ollivander's grasp to measure every part of Harry's right arm. As Ollivander walked back among the shelves, the tape measure moved on to measure every part of Harry it could reach. "Enough!" Ollivander called, bringing the tape measure to a stop as he arrived back at the counter with a few boxes in hand.
"Here, try this one." Ollivander said, passing Harry a thin lightly coloured wand. Harry stood uncertainly for a moment with the wand in hand, looking first to Jon, then to Ollivander. "Well, give it a wave." He said. Harry looked at the wand in his hand, flicking it through the air and setting part of the counter alight. "No, not that one." Ollivander muttered, dousing the flames as he reached over to pluck the wand from Harry's fingers.
Trying to find a wand for Harry proved to be a difficult affair, as every wand Harry picked up managed to destroy another part of Ollivander's shop. Though the man didn't seem to mind, in fact he seemed to grow more excited as each wand was tried and each wand failed. "Don't worry, Mr Potter, we'll find one for you yet." Ollivander had again disappeared amongst the shelves, muttering to himself all the while. He returned with only one box this time. "Try this, Mr Potter."
Harry took the offered wand and felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. The air around him grew warm and the wand emanated a soft golden glow as it bonded with its new master. "Made of holly, eleven inches long, with a core of a single feather from the tail of a phoenix. A very odd combination, but a powerful one. Curious, very curious."
Harry looked up at that, "Why is it curious, sir?"
"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr Potter. It so happens that the phoenix, whose tail feather resides in your wand gave another feather, just one other. It is curious that you would be destined for this wand, when its brother gave you that scar." Ollivander paused, looking for recognition in Harry's eyes.
"You mean, Voldemort, sir?"
"We do not speak his name! The wand chooses the wizard, Mr Potter. It's not always clear why, but I think it is clear that we can expect great things from you. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things. Terrible! Yes, but great…" Ollivander trailed off, "Now, for the brother." He whipped around, coming to meet Jon's eyes before stepping back amongst the shelves to retrieve some more boxes. Once again, the tape measure leaped into action, measuring all that it could before being told to stop. Ollivander returned with boxes in hand, and the process began again.
In half the time it took for Harry to find his wand, Jon had found his own. The slender wand seemed to fit into Jon's had perfectly and sent a shock of energy up his arm. "Maple wood, twelve and a half inches with a core of dragon heartstring from a Hebridean Black. That'll be seven Galleons for each."
They payed Ollivander and left quickly, both unsettled by the man's demeanour and ominous words. Hagrid was already waiting for them in the Leaky Cauldron when they arrived, and motioned for them to join him at a table near the bar. They made small talk as they waited for their meal, it was only after dinner had been served that Hagrid moved on to more serious topics. "I've spoken with Dumbledore," He said, "He's agreed ta let you stay in the Cauldron until the first as it's only a few weeks, then I'll get you an' take you to the train. I'll check up on you o' course, but this time o' year is so busy that it'll be every couple days at the most." The Potter boys were grateful to not have to return to Privet Drive and thanked Hagrid profusely for his effort on their behalf. Despite the promises they had to make, to stay in the magical side of the world and not be out of the pub after eight in the evening, both Jon and Harry thought this was going to be the best month of their lives.
Albus Dumbledore sat in his office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry deep in thought. He was far from sure in his choices of late, most of all in regards to the Potter boys currently staying unsupervised in the Leaky Cauldron in London. Dumbledore was not in any way a cruel man, but he was a very old one who had seen more than his fair share of violence and war over the many years he had been a Leader of the Light in magical society. This tended to make Dumbledore more blind to the individuals he claimed to represent, instead focusing on the bigger picture these individuals were a part of.
At current, Dumbledore was simultaneously attempting to prepare for that year's gathering of the International Confederation of Wizards, mediating the debate over a new muggle rights bill that was to be presented in front of the Wizengamot, and readying the school for the next academic year. As he held the position of Supreme Mugwump in the ICW, Chief Warlock in the Wizengamot, and Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore was in charge of all of these institutions and thus an extremely busy man. Therefore, when Hagrid had come to him with reports of Harry and Jon Potter living in a cupboard under the stairs and being so thin as to look almost starved, Dumbledore had no choice but to trust Hagrid to deal with the situation as he saw fit. Hagrid felt the Potter boys were capable of staying in the Leaky Cauldron without endangering themselves, so there they would stay. This had the fortunate side effect of allowing Dumbledore to put off dealing with the Dursleys to a much later date.
Harry simply must return to number 4 Privet Drive at the end of the year, as it offered the best protection against the Dark Lord and any of his followers still at large. If Harry was to return, Dumbledore didn't doubt that Jonathon would have to return as well, so a conversation with the Dursleys was a must. All that could wait though, for the end of the academic year which promised to be a much less busy time.