(The First Fourteen Chapters May Be Rewritten In The Future)
Thank you all for reading!
"Spoken dialogue or signs"
'Thought'
flashback/''dialogue"/'thought'
Opening to the World
17th of April, 1987, London.
"Boy, if you are not here within the next three hours, I'm never coming back for you!" Vernon Dursley, the abusive uncle-in-law of Harry Potter, quietly said full of disdain to his nephew. Harry Potter didn't really enjoy being in his family's company and he'd pretty much mastered his "dark seeing" so he had no trouble looking into his uncle's eyes.
Harry had pretty much figured out he wasn't alone in that he had the ability to use magic due to few strange encounters he'd had with strangely dressed people who he assumed were wizards and he drove a lot of his effort into his chores and even to unassigned work by his relatives as to make them hate him less, just enough to allow for one request of many in the six years he'd lived with them. With this request, he hoped to go into London and find any sign or source that would lead him to the magical metropolitan area of London.
Harry had been driven to Charing Cross Road and after a momentary stop in which his uncle had spoken to him, he got out and his uncle drove away, probably to meet with some business partners, whatever it was, he didn't care. He began letting off attached waves of his magic to sense for anything as he leaned against a wall. He didn't really look around, preferring to feel out with his magic, a skill that was separate from his single focused touch as this type of magic was a wide-area sensor. This allowed him to find and see things which none would be able to see with one's eyes unless they truly looked for it.
'There is a place about 30 meters to my left, there's a kind of cool magic that's covering the front of it,' Harry thought. It was indeed a "kind of cool magic" at least to Harry it was as he'd never experienced anything like it, noticing it mostly because of all the "normal" people that seemed to walk right past it without any regard for its existence. He walked up to the entrance and looked up, there was a sign which read "Leaky Cauldron". Looking in, he saw several patrons scattered throughout the dingy pub-like setting with one balding old man cleaning some glasses.
Taking a deep breath, Harry walked in, keeping his head down, he wasn't really sure what to say or do but he really didn't like to talk to his family, much less any stranger, fairly common sense Harry reasoned. "E-excuse me," Harry whispered to the bartender.
The bartender glanced up and gave a toothy-grin. 'That's kind of creepy,' Harry thought.
"Yes what can I help you with?" he replied in the same tone and volume.
"Where can I go from here?" he answered just as quietly as before, he realized he could've just used his sensor magic but this was his first true encounter with a magical person, or so it seemed.
"Where can you...? Oh you mean Diagon Alley, you just go to the back and there's a brick courtyard, you tap 3 bricks in a counterclockwise order but I'll just show you for your first time alright? Follow me, my name is Tom by the way, what's yours?" Tom put his glass and rag down and gestured for Harry to follow. Harry didn't answer the question but Tom showed no sign of noticing or even asking the question once more. The old bartender led him to a small brick-walled courtyard with a trashcan in the corner and walked over to it. "Okay so from right here, the first brick is here," said Tom, tapping his wand which he'd produced from some unknown area on his body against the first brick above the handle of the trash can. "Then three up." Tap. "Then two across to the left." Tap.
With the third tap, the bricks began to move aside and in just a few moments, the wall beside the trash can opened up and became an archway, and the entrance to what Harry presumed was Diagon Alley. "Welcome to Diagon Alley, I'm sorry but I have to head back to tend to the bar. Good luck." It didn't occur to Tom until later than the boy never gave his name.
Harry kept his head down and his hands in his worn out pockets, he could 'see' the looks and glares sent his way, probably because he looked like a beggar's child or something, he didn't know, but at least he knew they didn't hate him by knowing who he was, he really hated that and he knew that's how Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon saw him, Dudley is an unfortunate byproduct of their hate. Harry wasn't sure what to be surprised about, the fact that everything looked as though it were in the 19th century or that the streets were dirty and unkempt, maybe it was just a byproduct of the era the magical world still lived in.
Harry wasn't sure why, but he felt drawn to the massive white marble building at the very end of this first street on the left and disregarding the glares sent by the Goblins. Harry heard some old wizard grumbling about the service by the bank, 'So these are magical creatures then?' as he walked through the doors and he wasn't sure where to go so he went to the very end of the hall where he supposed the highest goblin sat. "What business do you have with Gringotts today, child?" the goblin asked, staring Harry down, scanning him as though he were nothing more than dead meat.
"I-I don't know..." Harry mumbled loud enough for the goblin teller to hear, he felt awkward enough that this creature radiated a barely noticeable wave of disdain but that he had to talk at all was nearly overwhelming him.
"Well what's your name then? I am very busy, you know," the goblin said to him with a sneer.
"H-Harry," he answered.
"Just Harry? What's your last name, child?" the goblin asked firmly, a little annoyed that this child was so quiet and unforthcoming for something as small as a name.
"Harry Potter" he answered, tensing up. To the goblin, this action seemed as though the boy now known as Harry Potter anticipated being struck down for something so small. It was kind of an insult; they wouldn't ever strike out at customers unless they broke their laws. But based on his appearance, he didn't know of even the magical world until just today.
'Wait, what did he just say?' the goblin thought, this time speaking up. "Say again?"
"Harry P-Potter sir" Harry mumbled, he wanted to run but he was frozen in place by the goblin's previously disdainful glare.
"Hold on one second Harry Potter," the goblin replied. 'Harry Potter was back? He didn't expect that until the boy's first year at Hogwarts and that wouldn't be for another four years at the very least.' He whispered to the surprised goblin at his side. "Get the account manager for the Potter family vaults, tell Ragnok that the lost son of James and Lily Potter are here, do not call down Dumbledore until I tell you to, understand?" The unidentified goblin associate nodded and ran off to one of the many doors along the walls of this Gringotts Bank.
"I did not expect to see you here today Mr. Potter, not until you were to attend Hogwarts at least," the goblin said in a much kinder tone which Harry picked up on.
He relaxed just slightly and spoke just a notch louder. "What's Hogwarts Mr. Goblin?"
"Hogwarts, Mr. Potter, is the school to which all magical children such as yourself will go to and for seven cycles you shall attend this school in which you'll learn all the skills and spells you'll need in which to survive in your world," the goblin teller answered, pausing for a moment, he looked down at a paper he had on his desk and continued to speak. "But alas, it is time you go to our associate Ragnok, the bank manager of your accounts." The guard had returned and gestured for Harry to follow him.
Harry gave a polite nod to the goblin teller and followed the goblin associate into one of the many adjacent rooms. "Here is Harry Potter, Lord Ragnok," the goblin bowed towards the much older goblin and left.
Harry sat down upon the chair offered and looked at the desk, not really sure of what to say or do to this goblin who apparently checked and moved around the assets for his family and whatnot.
"So, Mr. Potter, I am Lord Ragnok, the bank account manager for the Potter family vaults, I was told by Dumbledore that he would take care of all business as your magical guardian and you would only arrive to take out some money from your trust vault when you turned eleven, just in time for your year at Hogwarts, what are you doing here today?"
"I-I just wanted t-to learn about magic but I felt as though I had to come in to Gringotts today," Harry answered timidly. This Lord Ragnok was a very imposing figure despite his stature, giving off an aura that demanded respect though Harry felt it was far less than what someone else might have gotten.
"And so you are here, as your vaults haven't been touched since the time of your parents' death six years ago. Due to this, in order to officially confirm your identity, we'll have to do a blood test", Ragnok spoke softly. Harry tensed up again, this time with anticipation of the potential torture to come.
"Do not worry, it isn't going to hurt Mr. Potter, it's an extremely simple procedure," Ragnok began to explain. He reached under the desk and pulled out a seemingly old, antique-like rectangular box. Pressing his thumb to the lock, it clicked and Ragnok lifted the lid up and pulled out a medieval-looking dagger with what were, to Harry at any rate, runes. "All I'm going to need to do is to get just a few drops of your blood and, as this ritual dagger is enchanted for Potter blood, it should glow a green colour in confirmation but if you're not who you say you are, then it'll glow red. Once the ritual dagger has gotten the necessary blood, the cut will close right up as though it never happened."
Harry hardly heard him speak as he had been staring at the dagger warily and began to panic at the thought of Ragnok's words, images of the Dursley's form of torture and pain flashing behind his mind's eye. "No no no no no!"
As Harry tightened up into a tense silence on the chair he sat upon, magic began to flare out of control causing a massive wind to blow. This magically induced wind was like a miniature cyclone, sending all the papers and many small objects flying and smashing about around the room.
"Mr. Potter! Please calm down! This will not hurt you!" Ragnok tried to shout at him but the cacophony caused by the wind and magic was too much and didn't reach Harry's ears.
"NO!" Harry screamed, and then he vanished, along with the wind.
Ragnok was a goblin who was rarely surprised by most things. 'I mean, who would be in a world of magic? Accidental magic happens with most magical children but this was not accidental magic. A child who is able to control magic to such a degree at such a young age WITHOUT a wand was extremely rare even back in the days of the grand sorcerers of Merlin and the Founders!'
The goblin surveyed the chaos and laughed.
'It seems the goblins of Gringotts will have to keep watch on young Harry Potter, he will do great things someday, the Potters may not have been the richest or powerful, however they still had a lot of influence due to their efforts in the first war with the Dark Lord. But first things first, until I am able to get proper business done with Mr. Potter, Dumbledore shall not be allowed to access the family vaults regardless of his being the young child's magical guardian. There is something not right with the boy and when I had spoken of the simple test, he panicked, I can't even sense him inside Gringotts now.' Ragnok thought.
He opened his office door and shouted, "Irontooth! A word!"
oOoOo
Harry reappeared in an obscure alley somewhere close by Gringotts but he was finished with whatever business he may have done with the bank today. 'I will not be hurt again, but I still need to get books or anything else to study... Is there a bookstore around?' Still trembling, Harry made his way out of the alley and noticed a store full of books just a few buildings down.
'There has to be some sort of discard pile somewhere... I don't want to steal but someday, I'll pay them back. Flourish and Blotts? This seems to be the bookstore I'll need but...' Harry went looking around and there was no trash full of discarded books anywhere in the area, at least directly by the shop.
Sighing in defeat, Harry decided to head back to where his uncle had said he'd been but he was sure he had another two hours and forty-five minutes to go. As he made his way from the lot, he bumped into someone carrying a whole ton of books with her wand which caused a waver in the witch's concentration and the massive pile of books floating along behind her fell and scattered all over the ground. "I-I'm so sorry si-ma'am!" Harry squeaked, having not noticed it was a woman initially and scurried about picking up stray books and trying to help the slightly amused, bemused, and slightly startled witch who just waved her wand and the fallen books flew back into the massive stack it was previously.
"It's alright, but what are you doing here? Where's your parents?" she asked kindly as she crouched down, tilting her head and giving a small smile to the terrified child. But Harry didn't believe the tone in her voice or her expression for a second and ran off.
"That was strange... Wait, green eyes? But that couldn't be... No, it must have been a trick of the light," the witch, surprised, said after a moment, in spite of the fact that the small area she was currently standing in were covered in a deep shadow. She then continued to make her way into the book shop and disappeared, sparing one more glance outside but seeing nothing, she resumed her work.
'She sounded nice... but so did Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon just a few months ago for a week just to hurt me!' Harry thought cynically. But then on his worn face, a small smile grew. 'I did get a book though... The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1... This should be good for now. I'll read this for a couple hours until I need to meet up with Uncle Vernon again!'
mithrilandtj: Well, yes and no. As of now, without magic, he is unable to see. But with it, he can bring sight back temporarily and even enhance it beyond what is thought possible in current magical society. There will be more about it later I promise.
(The First Fourteen Chapters May Be Rewritten In The Future)
