Previously:
Ronald Weasley attacked Hadrian, in the train, with a potentially lethal spell; the boy threatened Hadrian with death in a misguided attempt at vengeance.
Hadrian finds out a forgotten piece of Hogwarts Charter by-laws, allowing students to form a School Council with vast power. The teachers and the Board of Governors are not happy, as they feel the new body is overpowered. The Minister of Magic, on the other hand, is eager to see students act, as it gives him a priceless possibility to observe his future political rivals It is decided that the representatives will get immunity against disciplinary action.
Hadrian, in his capacity as an heir to the noble house, petitioned Sirius Black's case to the DMLE, prompting them to give the man a long overdue trial. He was found guilty of killing Pettigrew, but it is ruled as self-defense and he is compensated for most of the time spent in Azkaban. Unfortunately, he is deemed unstable for now and must stay under Healers' care until he is mentally sane.
During the trial, it is revealed that Remus Lupin is a werewolf; the School Council debates this heatedly, finally deciding not to push for dismissal of the man. However, the Board of Governors decides to sack him nonetheless, and Dumbledore asks Quirrell to once again step in and teach DADA.
As the school year ends, Hadrian sold the dragon egg he had stolen from Hagrid and Gringotts buys it for 33K G.
"Hello Aunt Petunia," Hadrian bowed slightly, smiling. He was in a very good mood; earlier this day he managed to sell off the dragon egg that he had stolen from Hagrid several years ago, which made him quite well off, for a teenager at least. What he earned wouldn't let him live long life, but it would certainly go a long way towards making his summers enjoyable.
"You," Petunia greeted him with her usual warmth. "What are you waiting for? Get in," she stepped aside, letting him enter. As soon as he was in, she fired off several questions. "Where is your luggage? What have you been doing, it's almost evening, and why are you smiling?"
Hadrian's grin only got bigger, as he soaked the atmosphere, something that he wouldn't have to put up with ever again.
"I came here today only to tell you that I won't be spending this summer with you," he announced calmly.
"And where will you be?" his aunt sneered, obviously not impressed. "If you think we'll give you any money so that you can go on vacation, you are sorely mistaken."
Hadrian snorted.
"Obviously I don't think that, I know better. No, I just managed to secure a place to stay for myself, where and how you don't need to know. I only came to ask, that if any of..." Hadrian hesitated. "Any of my kind come here asking about me, just tell them that I'm somewhere, I don't know, shopping, having a sleep-over, whatever, just fend them off and don't let them know I'm no longer staying here."
"And what's in it for us?" Petunia asked, obviously doubting his story.
"Really, aunt? Think," Hadrian said slightly arrogantly, making the woman bristle. "If the freaks find out I'm not living with you, they will do everything in their power to rectify this situation, and I'll be back with you in no time. Which," he pointed his finger at her, "is not something that either of us want. Do we have a deal?"
After just a minute of deliberation, Petunia nodded her head resolutely.
"We do. But what if they come and insist that they see you?"
"I'll call you in a few days to let you know of my phone number. If anything like this happens, just call me and I will come to show myself to them."
The aunt and nephew stood there, in the entryway of Dursley's home, silently looking at each other. Petunia looked like she wanted to say something, but couldn't. Finally, she managed.
"Is this the farewell? Or are you coming next year?"
"Not if I can help it," Hadrian answered evenly. "If everything goes as I'd like it to, then yes, this is a farewell." Petunia nodded, not sure what else to say. Eventually, Hadrian broke the silence. "Fine, I believe that's about it. Expect my call soon. Be well Aunt Petunia," he said, turning around before leaving the house.
He wasn't even off the yard when Petunia called after him. Curiously, Hadrian stopped and waited for his aunt to catch up to him.
"Wait," Petunia said, slightly out of breath. "I've just realized, the letter! When we got you, there was a letter. That man, Dumbledore, he's written that there is a protection on this house, that stays true as long as you live here. Does it mean that it will be gone with you?"
"Probably," Hadrian acknowledged. "If it is somehow tied to me, then yes, it will be gone the moment I stop calling this place home, or something similar, I'm not exactly sure how this particular ward works," he started walking again.
"But will we be safe?" Petunia asked frantically. It started dawning on her that the boy was not only a curse, but also a mean to their safety.
"Don't know, don't care," Hadrian shrugged, and left, leaving his aunt worried on a perfect front lawn of her no less than perfect house.
#^#
Meanwhile, a small trinket in Dumbledore's office squeaked faintly and then stopped working with a puff of white smoke. Perhaps, if the headmaster himself was in the office at this time he would have noticed, but as it just happened, he was in Wizengamot, trying to feel out a possible ally to his side. Thus, the trinket, hidden between a dozen similar ones, would go unnoticed for a very long time.
#^#
"Excuse me," Hadrian called to the barkeeper. Tom, he remembered it was his name. "Tom, do you have rooms here that I could rent?"
Tom looked at Hadrian and frowned.
"You alone? Where are your parents?"
"Eh, they are muggles, they gave me money and allowed me to stay here for few days while they are running some errands. I'm meeting my friends here the day after tomorrow."
Tom looked searchingly at the innocently smiling boy. Before Hadrian came here, he had taken care of his looks. Now he was a blond, short-haired boy with no scar visible thanks to some quick make-up. He was also wearing brown contact lenses; shortly after leaving the Dursleys he went to optometrist and got a prescription. Fortunately, his defect wasn't anything complicated and he could buy a set of monthly contact lenses on-site. This way he was quite certain that he wouldn't be recognized. It wouldn't do to be found by anyone that could notify Dumbledore; that man had definitely too much of an interest in his private life and he wouldn't put it past him to try and force him back to Dursleys.
"I'm sorry," Tom finally said, looking genuinely apologetic. I can't offer you any room, they're all full, but I think you should try to go to Seventh Inn on the Seventh Street," he advised.
Hadrian blinked.
"And where is Seventh Street?"
"Oh," Tom seemed to realize something. "I forgot you are muggle-born. You see, Diagon Alley isn't the only magical street here. There are several others, interconnecting. The most famous, or rather, infamous, is Knockturn Alley, but there is also Danann Path, Seventh Street and the Silver Promenade. There is quite decent inn on Seventh Street. You just need to walk to Gringotts, and promptly before the stairs, turn right. It's well marked, you shouldn't get lost."
"Thank you," Hadrian said politely and left.
Finding Seventh Street wasn't difficult indeed. Hadrian wondered how could he miss it all those previous times he was visiting Gringotts; still, he was here now and that was the only thing that mattered. He quickly found the Seventh Inn and entered. He didn't know if it was because Tom let them know or they had more lax policy, but he was asked no questions before being given the key.
#^#
The room was adequate. Nothing luxurious, but he had everything that he would need. A single bed, desk, chair, wardrobe, en-suite bathroom with a shower. Regardless, he had already decided that he wouldn't be staying long, few days tops. He would visit the goblins the next day and ask if there were any properties he could use or rent.
He threw himself on the bed, idly playing with the thought of going out and exploring those new - to him - streets, but eventually he decided to call it a day.
#^#
The Seventh Inn wasn't the most reliable place, Hadrian quickly found. As soon as a morning came, there was a loud knocking on his door. Hadrian was just finishing his morning routine, so he only had to re-apply his make-up and put on a shirt before answering.
"Yes?" He cautiously opened the door, a wand in his hand.
"Who are you?" A man wearing crimson robes demanded rudely.
"Excuse me?"
"Who are you? You never told the staff when moving in and you are alone, a kid. Where are your parents?"
Hadrian looked at the man incredulously, before slamming the door in his face and locking it. The last thing he wanted to do was explaining himself to some doorman. His stay was already paid in advance for three days, something he was beginning to regret if this behaviour was something that he could expect from the staff here.
He finished his preparations, donned his robes and decided that he might as well go to Gringotts. Just for convenience sake, to avoid nosy doorkeepers, he decided to use his invisibility cloak.
#^#
"Good morning, I'd like to talk to Griphook," Hadrian greeted the teller. Just as always, the creature behind the desk grunted something and rang the bell twice. Must be magic, Hadrian surmised smartly. With the amount of goblins working in the bank it was highly improbable that each one had it's own ringing code assigned, even more so as the bell, whether used by 'his' teller or some other one, was always rung twice.
Soon, a familiar goblin appeared and took Hadrian to the office.
"What can I do for you today, Mister Potter?"
"I was wondering, Griphook, is there any property that my family holds that I could access now?"
Griphook wordlessly summoned thick ledger and started looking for something. Finally, he closed it, and looked at Hadrian.
"I'm afraid not," he asserted. "There are two intact properties belonging to Potter family, but they will only be accessible once you are fully emancipated."
Hadrian nodded. Even if he hoped for something else, he expected this.
"In that case, I'd like to ask for your help in renting a flat for myself. I'm minor, so there is no way anyone would agree to rent me one, but I'm quite sure you can help me for a fee."
Griphook grinned, showing his sharp teeths.
"Indeed we can, Mister Potter. This won't be cheap, but it's a one-time fee, and you have enough money. Is there any place you'd like?"
"No. Actually I was hoping that maybe you might have a catalogue or something available."
"Are you interested in muggle or wizarding properties?"
"Umm, muggle ones. I can't do magic during the summer, so I'll welcome all muggle appliances."
Griphook smirked.
"You know mister Potter, there are wards," he mysteriously declared. "This would cost you another thousand Galleons, but you could then use your magic as long as you were inside."
Hadrian's eyes widened. He thought he was quite competent for his age, knowing a lot about different applications of runes and wards, even blood wards, but he had never heard of a ward allowing undetected use of magic.
"How is that possible?"
"Goblin magic," Griphook answered, still smirking.
"Will I be able to afford it? I mean, I know I've got thirty-three thousands for the egg, and then some in my trust vault, but If I rent a flat this will be a constant drain on my money for a few years to come..." he trailed, suddenly unsure. Just how much was wizarding money worth in the mundane world? He never bothered to check; he just assumed that, since the wizarding money was still made of precious metals, it was worth a lot.
"Easily, Mister Potter. One Galleon is worth quite a lot muggle money. You have more than enough to pay the rent upfront for several years and still not to worry about buying your school essentials."
"What do you mean, quite a lot?" Hadrian asked, curious. "I know that there is a gold standard in the wizarding world, but what are the exchange rates?"
"Depends. If a total stranger came to us trying to exchange his muggle money to Galleons, he would have to pay few hundred pounds for one Galleon. However, because of a 1678 treaty," his face soured, "we have to offer much better rates for wizards and the families of wizards. This way muggle-borns can afford the cost of living in our world until they come of age and start earning their own Galleons. For them, the exchange rate is five pounds per one galleon. You, on the other hand, since you are selling gold for pounds, will get 50 pounds per Galleon."
Hadrian calculated quickly the money he owned, and inhaled sharply.
"Yes, Mister Potter, you can certainly afford it. Now, shall we have a look at the catalogue of flats?"
#^#
"This one looks nice. The price-tag is also nice," Hadrian mused. He was just looking at a one bedroom apartment in Westminster area. It looked spacious, clean and modern, but cost almost five hundred pounds a week.
"That it is. Remember though, Mister Potter, that you have more than enough to afford it. You want it for, what, three, four years? Then the total cost would be hundred and sixty pounds shy of one hundred thousand, but you need to divide it by fifty - you will only need to pay two thousand Galleons for this plus our fees, obviously. If you decide to rent this place, you will have to pay at least three thousand galleons; more if you want us to add wards."
"I think I'll take it. What wards can you offer?"
"The basic protection wards set, including anti-apparition, anti-portkey and proximity wards are five hundred Galleons. An advanced set of wards, including protego maxima, fianto duri and repello inimicum will set you back a thousand Galleons. If you want your place to be unplottable, it's another two point five thousand G's, and if you'd like it to be under Fidelius, well, you don't have enough money for that and, of course, there is this magic masking ward we've talked about earlier."
Hadrian looked at Griphook, calculating. Finally, having considered everything to the best of his abilities, he spoke.
"I'll have this flat. Add a set of basic and advanced wards, magic-masking ward and make it unplottable. This will be, what, seven thousand, eight?"
"Eight thousand, yes."
Trying desperately not to think that he was just about to spend almost four hundred thousand pounds, Hadrian put his signature on the provided document.
#^#
As soon as Hadrian returned to his room in the Seventh' Inn, he was jumped by the anxious porter.
"You, boy, wait, I want you...!"
"Erm, no, I don't swing that way," Hadrian answered and quickly locked the door, leaving the dumbfounded doorman behind.
He was glad that his housing situation was taken care of. It was getting irritating, staying at this inn; if the wizards had some rating service for the hotels he would certainly leave a bad review. Fortunately, it would only be one more night here, and then he could move to his own flat. Well, almost own - but the way he saw it, as soon as it was paid in advance for four years and made unplottable, it would be as good as his own for that time.
Hadrian considered for a moment outright buying his own place, with the exchange rate he could afford it. He was quickly dissuaded by the goblin though; as a minor, any and all purchases above a thousand Galleons would require his guardian's approval. Paying, even larger sums, for the services was a legal loophole, and the only way he could get his own place.
He undressed, showered and went to the bed hoping against the hope that he would not be harassed next morning.
#^#
He wasn't wrong. At about the same time as the previous day, an intense knocking filled his room. Muttering obscenities, Hadrian rose from doing his push-ups and violently threw the door open.
"What?!" he snarled, causing two men on the other side of the door gape at him. This time he didn't bother dressing up, so the men saw him only in his training shorts and undershirt, an attire most wizards would consider to be a state of undress, a conservative society that it was. "Well?" He demanded, seeing them at a loss for words. When none of them reacted quickly enough, he slammed the door and headed for the shower, ignoring the renewed knocking.
#^#
"The way I see it," Hadrian said casually, leaning on the counter, "you are harassing me. I've paid upfront for three nights, yet you constantly bother me in my apartment. I've had enough, and I'm moving out. You will pay me back for one night, yes?"
The receptionist spluttered.
"We wanted to talk to you! You avoided us!" he accused.
"That I did," Hadrian admitted, not bothered in the slightest. "I paid, and had no desire to talk to any of you. So, yeah, I did avoid you. Now, what about my money?"
"We need to know your data, to register you! I don't know who allowed you in without collecting them first, but..."
"You did," Hadrian interrupted him. "And I don't care what you need now. What matters is, will you give me my money back or should I leave and send my lawyer after you?"
"I can't give you your money if you don't tell me who are you, you can't just..."
"So be it," Hadrian dismissed him and left the inn, leaving the poor receptionist alone.
#^#
His new flat was only few tube stops from the Diagon Alley, so it only took about ten minutes to reach it. As he approached it he was quickly intercepted by Griphook, disguised as an older man in casual muggle attire.
"Mister Potter, follow me please. We have everything set up, we only need to key you in the wards now."
"Okay, was there any problems?"
"None at all, you have a fine apartment all to yourself, Mister Potter. All the wards are functioning and we have also erected a basic notice-me-not localised ward on the door so that no one will bother you. The magic-concealing ward had to be setup on the whole building as it is a dome-shaped with a minimum area requirements, so you can do magic whenever you are inside, and theoretically also outside for a few feets in all directions, but as you can't tell where is the threshold of the ward I wouldn't recommend it."
"Fine, casting only inside. How do you key me in?" Hadrian asked, seeing that they arrived in front of his door.
"Why, Mister Potter, of course with your blood," Griphook bared his teeth in anticipation. Honestly, if Hadrian didn't know better, he would assume the little buggers were vampiric species, with their fondness of blood. He sighed and raised his hands, waiting for the blade and instructions.
"The wards, as of now, are cast but not founded. To bind them to you, you need to feel them. It won't be hard - fianto duri is almost physical, it won't let you through, so you need only walk forward till you can't. Then simply prickle your finger and smear it against the ward. Once it recognizes you, it will momentarily flash brightly. There are eight wards in total, so you need to repeat it this many times."
"Eight?" Hadrian frowned. "I thought that there should be seven? Not counting the magic-concealing outside?"
"Since this is muggle neighbourhood, we've also added one that would slow down the electricity decay, so you can use magic in here. It's not foolproof, but if you don't hex the appliances and limit heavy magic, it should last several years."
"And how much did this cost me?"
"Ah, this was included in our fee. If you were interested in a wizarding estate, our fee would be lower... But you wouldn't be able to afford a similarly comfy place."
#^#
Once Hadrian was done, Griphook shook his hand and left, allowing Hadrian to make himself comfortable. The flat was as spacious and modern as the catalogue promised. Hadrian quickly fell in love; while he wasn't sleeping in a cupboard but a normal bedroom at the Dursleys, it certainly couldn't compare to what he had now. His own room in Slytherin was also rather comfy, but he didn't want to overdo it; this was his workplace, after all. But here... Here he would spend his summers, so a little luxury was desirable.
#^#
"Hello?"
"Aunt Petunia? You still have this feature that shows you the number calling, right? This is my number, just call me if you know what."
"Oh, it's you. Actually, a letter came for you. Obviously from some freaks, it has ten stamps on it," Hadrian could almost see her disgusted face. "Will you pick it up or should I throw it away?"
"Do you know who is it from?"
"There is a name scribbled here. Weasy? Wesly?"
"Weasley?"
"Yes, this is it."
"..."
"Hello?"
"I'm here. Okay, I'll pick it up sometime next week."
#^#
During the next several days, Hadrian fell into an easy routine. He would wake up early and do some physical exercises. Some days it would be a morning jog, sometimes it would be push-ups or squats. He knew that his building had a small private gym with the weights, but he wasn't there yet; perhaps some time soon. After his morning exercises, Hadrian would shower, do some of his homework and then have a free study session. On his first free day - as in, no keying into wards, no avoiding overzealous staff, no looking for a flat - he visited the public library and made copies of several books.
When he was done, and it wasn't dark yet, he would wander off exploring London or one of the magical alleys. So far he found that the most interesting was the Danann Path. Named after Danann, the goddess of the Fae, was filled with shops selling rare ingredients, books and scrolls. Unfortunately, most of them were also appropriately priced, usually exceeding Hadrian's budget for the summer.
Hadrian would finish the day with another long shower and meditation exercises; he was working hard on his occlumency.
#^#
Finally, the day came that he could no longer put off going to collect the letter. As was his custom now, he went for a jog, showered, took some pocket money in pounds and set off on this little trip. He considered calling a cab, but after seeing that the train ride would only take 35 minutes, he decided to take it.
He walked the rest of the way, feeling like taking the stroll in a good weather. This certainly didn't have anything to do with trying to postpone meeting his relatives. Certainly.
"Uncle Vernon," He greeted the walrus of a man. "I heard that there is a letter for me."
"There is," Dursley grunted, handing it to him and promptly closing the door. "Goodbye."
Well, it seemed the Dursleys were as keen on meeting him as he was, thank Merlin for small miracles.
#^#
Hadrian fiddled with the envelope for a moment, wondering what could be inside and if he should open it. For all he knew it could be an assassination attempt by the youngest Weasley, something he wouldn't put past Ronald. He appeared calm and composed, but Hadrian saw the looks he gave him when he thought Hadrian was not watching. The Potter heir was well aware that Ronald didn't gave up his misguided revenge; he was biding his time.
Eventually, after casting several diagnostic charms on the letter, he felt reasonably safe that there was only a piece of paper inside, so he carefully tore the envelope and picked the letter.
Dear Mister Potter,
My name is Arthur Weasley. We haven't met properly before, but I wanted to thank you for your attempt at rescuing my daughter, Ginny, in circumstances that most adults would find themselves overwhelmed. While my heart mourns for my daughter, I also feel deep gratitude for what you did, and would like to meet you personally to say my thanks.
It just so happens that I have received several top class tickets to the Quidditch World Cup finals which will be held in England. I'd like to extend an invitation to both you and Hermione Granger, to join my family on this day.
Please do let me know of your decision no later than by the end of July.
Yours Faithfully,
Arthur Weasley
Head of House Weasley
A/N: Welcome to the main story :-) As promised, I've included quick "previously" note at the beginning. This won't be a thing most of the time, only if I deem a chapter potentially unreadable by some (i.e. Boring or triggering) :-)
A/N2: This chapter (and the previous one) has been betaed by haphne24, huge thanks :)
A/N3: I thought I would give you an overview of how, in my HP AU, money works. It's not overly convoluted, but in my experience it is easier to explain mechanisms using points, so here it goes :)
1. The wizarding world uses gold standard, in its most literal form: all the money is made of precious metals, gold, silver and bronze.
2. Wizarding economy is much smaller, obviously, than mundane one. It is also, mostly, separated, with one small exception.
3. Because Galleons are made of gold, and the coins are bigger than mundane pounds (somewhere I've found a comparison claiming them to be slightly bigger than the commemorative five pound coin), the worth of the gold used to make them is much bigger in muggle world than wizards value them in their system.
4. Because of this, a treaty had been made sometime in 17th century to force the goblins to give better rates to muggleborns, so that they can afford buying wizarding money. The "discount" is tremendous - normally the coin would be worth hundreds of pounds, but the goblins sell them for five pounds.
5. On the other hand, if one were to sell galleons and buy pounds from Gringotts, they would get 50 GBP for every gold coin. You might ask: is the Gringotts a charity? Well, not exactly.
6. Because here comes this small overlap of the economics. Gringotts is active on global markets, selling gold for normal, mundane market prices, thus making profit. (btw: obviously not the only area of profit for the bank, as they are providing various - costly, as presented in this chapter - services for wizards). Also, obviously, they keep track of the sales and enforce some limits to prevent abuse (as in - a muggleborn comes with 5GBP, buys 1G, sells it for 50GBP, buys 10G…).
7. Because of the exchange rates, almost every wizard is pretty rich by muggle standards. However, as most never lower themselves to live in mundane world, they don't even realise that. That's the reason why Hadrian could pretty easily afford rent in a high-end apartment in the center of London; if he chose to find a flat in a wizarding district instead, for example somewhere on a Silver Promenade, he wouldn't be able to afford it for more than a year, or two if he lowered his expectations regarding housing standards.
