Welcome back! We changed the title to Forged Through Resilience as we feel it fits our story the best. As always, we don't own HP or Marvel. This is a collaborative work between myself and Venerance. We also thank the help of Nauze and Philip Tomarys. There are two A/Ns at the bottom of this chapter that should be read by all.
To everyone who took time to review the first chapter, we appreciate it so much! We hope you enjoy it and please R&R!
Tossing his book to the side, Harry burrowed his head into his hands in frustration. Potions. Why would he bother attempting to study potions if he couldn't even find evidence of magic in the first place. Threading a hand through his hair, Harry pushed himself off his bunk before heading to his knapsack.
Grimmauld's Place, the Burrow, The Leaky Cauldron, Hogwarts. Gone. As if the Wizarding World in this reality had never existed. So why even bother attempting to study potions if he wouldn't be able to use the majority of it? Roughly yanking a fresh pair of folded clothes from his knapsack, Harry quickly changed, tossing his dirty set onto the tent floor.
"What now, Harry?" he asked himself as he collapsed onto a chair providing companionship to the empty table.
His eyes flickered to the mokeskin pouches sitting innocently by his knapsack - tossed to the side in a scurry when Harry was making his way to bed last night. Reaching down, he gently scooped one of the pouches into his hand before placing it onto the table. With a flick of his wrists, Harry pulled back the bag's strings, releasing the tight seal at the very top. With a slow topple, the bag fell over allowing several golden coins to spill across the table.
Picking one at random, Harry closed his eyes as he spun the coin in a circle. Round and round the coin spun, defying gravity with the force applied. One moment, the face of a wizard gazed at him with a blank expression, the next, a roaring dragon.
"Gold," Harry scoffed to himself as he flattened the coin against the table. "I wonder if one of the pubs in London would accept it for food." A chuckle escaped from Harry's lips as he twirled the coin between his fingers. Only, for his chuckle to halt and the coin to drop noisily onto the table.
"Bugger me," cursing as he swiftly pushed himself away from the table. "I bloody forgot about food!"
Throwing a jacket over his body, Harry quickly scooped up the fallen galleons before dropping them back into their little home. Tightening the cords around the mokeskin pouch, he jammed it into his pocket alongside the two by his knapsack. Hefting his knapsack over his shoulders, Harry trudged outside before allowing the tent to collapse onto itself with a flick of his wand. Shoving it into his knapsack, he rapidly turned around before apparating away.
Reappearing on a street, Harry found himself assaulted with a loud honk before he tripped and fell. Crumpling onto the street, Harry barely had time to turn his head up before a cab sped past, centimeters away from where he was laying. An audible groan escaped between his lips as he dropped his head onto the asphalt below with newfound exhaustion. What a ridiculous mistake. Rubbing his eyes, Harry pushed himself to his feet before casting a wary gaze around to see if anyone had noticed.
Luckily for him, everyone seemed to be busy admiring the surrounding sights. As Harry turned his attention away to brush the bits of gravel that stuck to his clothes, a cough sounded behind him making him freeze. Slowly pivoting, Harry found himself looking up at the stern face of a bobby eying him up.
"Were you jaywalking?"
"Uh, no sir," Harry responded as he nervously kept eye contact with the officer. "If I was, I didn't mean to. Wasn't paying attention to where I was going, really."
The officer grunted as his eyes roamed Harry's face, searching. Leaning back, the man gave himself a nod before casting a small glare in Harry's direction. "You watch yourself, if I catch you doing so again, I'll be forced to hand you a citation."
"Yes sir, sorry sir," Harry replied as he anxiously backed away. "It won't happen again." Turning his body, he hurried down the sidewalk releasing a heavy breath that had built within his chest.
"Bloody hell," he murmured to himself as he skirted around an Asian family taking pictures of the nearby buildings. "Focus Harry, you're not in Hogwarts anymore. You're back in the muggle world, everything is different."
Harry inwardly winced when his empty stomach began to growl. He hadn't had dinner nor breakfast the day before. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he had a decent meal that wasn't composed of cereal bars or juice boxes. Slipping his wand into his hand, Harry cursed himself as he slipped into a small alleyway before casting a disillusionment charm to hide from the people nearby. Stepping back out, he paved his way towards the nearby McDonald's across the street.
The mechanical chime of the door ringing attracted several confused looks as the door opened and closed by itself. Loose hinges were the cause according to one of the employees as they shrugged off the strange occurrence. As the employees became preoccupied once more, Harry summoned two burgers waiting on the warming rack alongside an empty cup. Unseen, the two burgers and cup zoomed towards the invisible Harry who barely caught them. Shuffling to the drink machine, Harry muttered a soft "muffliato" as he began filling his cup before heading to the lone table in the back of the building. Harry unwrapped the burgers and began to eat.
Guilt from stealing the burgers was swiftly overpowered by the mouthwatering taste of hot food sliding through his mouth. A small groan of satisfaction emitted from Harry's chest as he took a sip from his cup of water. Ravaging through the two burgers before chugging his cup of water, a small belch burst through Harry's lips before he leaned back in his seat with a content smile.
He needed money. Muggle money, not Wizarding money. Racking his brain, Harry thought back to his trips into London where he would be forced to accompany Petunia for her various types of shopping. And when she didn't have any quid with her, she would take Harry with her to the bank; she didn't trust those robot ATMs that sought to steal the hard-earned money Vernon brought home.
"The bank," Harry exclaimed to himself, "Of course, HSBC Bank!"
Harry quickly cleaned up his trash before depositing it into the garbage bin. With a twist, Harry Apparated out of the busy McDonald's.
Reappearing outside the building, Harry breathed a sigh of relief as the security guard outside the entrance looked around for the source of the strange pop. Dodging to the side of the building, Harry released his disillusionment charm before wandering back to the bank's entrance where he greeted the guard with a nod. Entering the building, Harry found himself directed to one of the empty seats when he told a teller of his request to open a new bank account.
Signing his name on the wait sheet, Harry relaxed into the comfy cushions of the soft lounge chair beneath him. It wasn't long before a smartly dressed man wandered over and called his name. Following the gentlemen into an office surrounded by glass walls, Harry found himself settling into a chair, much less comfortable than the ones in the lobby, as the man made his way behind the desk.
"A pleasure to meet you today Mr. Potter," the man introduced as he reached across the desk to shake Harry's hand. "My name is Dean Riveria. How may I help you?"
"I'd like to open up a bank account, please." Harry answered as he pushed his glasses back.
"That's wonderful!" Riveria smiled as he turned to his computer and began to type. "Now, what are you looking for? A basic checking account, savings, CD, IRA?"
Harry blinked as the man began rattling off different types of accounts. He opened his mouth in an attempt to respond only to shut it when nothing came out. His confusion must have been evident in his face as the man chuckled.
"Don't worry, I assume that this must be your first time?"
A wordless nod. The man smiled before rapidly typing onto his keyboard once more.
As he sat there, Harry became more and more flabbergasted as the man in front of him began listing and describing a myriad of explanations for the different types of accounts offered by the bank. When he was finally decided on a basic checking and savings account, Harry found himself bombarded once more with a whole new avenue of information and requests. A summons for a mobile number, email, home address, identification papers, rattled Harry's brain as the man stared in expectation.
In an attempt to calm the brewing headache, Harry casted the Imperius curse on the man. The procession proceeded much faster to his relief. At the end, with a small amount of money from the bank transferred into his account, Harry thanked the man for his services before asking where he could go to exchange a large amount of gold. After several answers, many of them consisting of random pawn shops, Harry finally managed to receive a proper answer, it being the Swiss National Bank.
A quick Finite and Confundus charm had Harry leaving the building contently. Wandering down the street, Harry began to ponder on ways to make his life easier. Official documentation. How long could he keep using magic against the muggles before someone noticed, before he slipped up? Despite his actions, Harry had no desire to become a criminal. He needed proof of citizenship. An official address. Something that would help him blend in.
Asking several people in his vicinity, he managed to find one of several general hospitals in the area. Following the directions given to him, Harry continuously apparated under the disillusionment charm until he found himself at the foot of the closest hospital. After ducking out of sight, behind one of the hospital's stone columns, Harry pointed his wand towards himself before attempting to transfigure his clothes.
He didn't know what he had even attempted to transfigure the first time around when he stared at his clothes. A mix of blue, white, and brown. It looked to be the offspring of scrubs and a trenchcoat. The second time wasn't that much better either. It wasn't until ten minutes later did he make for a passable impression of a doctor. Entering into the hospital's main lobby, Harry silently used the point-me spell to direct him into the maternity ward.
Asking one of the nurses to direct him to the head nurse. The nurse led him to an older woman who stared at him in a befuddled manner. When the younger woman left, Harry turned to the older woman and casted the Imperius. On Harry's behest, the two exited the corridor before being led to an open office playing host to several nurses as they answered calls and walked into the rooms of patients from across the aisles encompassing the hub. As the head nurse began digging into the cabinets by the desks, Harry's listening perked when a television set in the hub area began to speak.
"That's right, Christine. The police have finally managed to unearth the details concerning the surprise bombing on the U.S. Embassy in London last week. We now know that the accident claimed the lives of over forty-seven men and women, all of whom have been identified. Over eighty more have been sent to St Thomas' Hospital in varying conditions. Reports from the Police suggest this act of terrorism may be due to the rising tensions against the Taliban in the Middle East. Our Minister of Defense is strongly recommending an increase in police activity and border security to ensure such an event does not occur again."
The words from the television began to fade away as chilling screams echoed in Harry's stretched high as everlasting cackles bred through the air like a swarm of bodies strewn everywhere. Once filled with life and laughter, now staring back at him with empty expressions.
"This is your fault."
"Your blood brought him back."
"All your fault…"
"Doctor? Doctor are you okay?" A hand landed on his shoulder, jolting a stumble of shock from Harry as he quickly backtracked into a wall, face flush with his chest rising and falling heavily. He tried to breathe in and was grateful when a cup of water was raised to his lips. Using what little Occlumency he knew, he forced the memories away. He knew that most of the nurses were looking at him in worry as he straightened out his clothing and stood back up. Clearing his throat, he was relieved to notice that the television set was now shut.
When the head nurse returned and slipped him the blank birth certificate. He thanked the nurses before walking out. Scribbling his name and false date on the certificate, he handed the paper over to the head nurse who nodded and turned back to the nursing hub. Once she returned, handing him the official certificate while informing him of the copy sealed and placed into the archive, Harry released her from the Imperius. Obliviating and confounding her, he got out of the hospital as quickly as possible, shaking by the time he made it to his Apparition point.
The tremors were too much to handle as Harry quiveringly slid down the wall. Gripping his hair, a guttural cry released from his throat as his breathing intensified. He wished he had a paper bag to breathe in. Ron or Hermione there to tell him that everything was okay. Sirius or Lupin with their calming presence. Anything. Anything from his former life.
"Twenty quid on the table." A voice shouted as several shots were laid out on the table. "Either take your swirl or bugger off. Money stays."
Harry winced as the boisterous cheers resonated through the dinky bar. Waving the confunded bartender over, Harry gestured to his empty glass to which the man dutifully filled. Taking a sip from the glass, Harry's eyes bulged when his chest swelled with heat while his throat ran parched. Choking, Harry coughed up the strong amber liquid onto the table, garnering the attention of the rowdy bunch occupying the bar counter.
"Oi, Frank! You got a greenie in your bar!" One of the larger men laughed as he swaggered towards Harry.
"He's nineteen, showed me proof." The bartender replied in a addled voice as his eyes squinted in thought.
"Don't look nineteen." Several barstools squeaked against the floorboards as more of the rowdy bunch began to crowd around Harry's seat. "You sure he didn't give you a fake ID? Idiot looks like he still belongs in school."
A hand shoved Harry into the counter, eliciting several laughs from the group as a second someone continuously nudged his shoulder. Harry's hand shot up, catching the irritating hand pushing his shoulder as he glowered at the offending appendage. With a sharp thrust, the man found himself stumbling back before tripping onto the hard wooden floor.
"Will you lot leave me the hell alone." Harry grouched as he stumbled to his feet.
"Hey, we don't take kindly to bullies here." One of the men growled soberly as he aided the man Harry had pushed to the ground.
"Neither do I." Harry scowled as he eyed the now silent bunch surrounding him. "So why don't you and your friends go wet your bollocks somewhere else?"
A fist shot forward from the corner of Harry's vision, battering him onto the ground as his glasses got knocked askew. In hindsight, perhaps it wasn't the best idea to taunt a group of neanderthals but given the shitty day Harry had had, alongside the few sips of alcohol, his filter was already down the shitter.
Shooting out, Harry grasped onto the shin of his surprised target before jerking it forward. With a shout, the man lost his balance as he fell and landed on his tailbone. Unfortunately for Harry, that short moment sparked the mass of others into action. Harry was barely able to get a Stupefy out before a boot connected against his jaw.
Tears materialized in Harry's eyes as a scorching fire blazed across Harry's face. Involuntarily shooting his hand to his cheek as he flexed his jaw in agony, Harry shot a murderous glare from the corner of his eye as he pointed his wand across his chest at his next victim, Harry fired off a Petrificus Totalus before a second kick punted his stomach into his spine, forcing him into a recoil. Twitching on the ground, a hail of punches and kicks rained down upon Harry's body like cracks of thunder. Huddling into a ball, Harry hissed as an inescapable ache began rolled across his back. Clinging to his back like a torturous parasite, the ache hammered its way through his body, intent on shattering his bones. Blood leaked from Harry's lips as his teeth finally pierced the outer covering of his tongue in an effort not to scream. It was only after what seemed like an eternity, that he found himself being hoisted up by his arms before being chucked out of the dismal bar.
"What a little bitch." Harry heard one of the men say before the door shut behind them.
Harry weakly rolled onto his back, away from the curb, as he withdrew his wand before muttering an Episkey on his bleeding mouth. His tongue, warm from the pools of blood building within his mouth, began to swell from a searing heat before fading away, leaving behind only a phantom echo. With a groan of protest, Harry lifted his body from the dirty pavement before shambling into a dark corner.
Apparating to the train station, he limped to a map resting brazenly on the station wall and browsed through it with fatigue. After locating a hotel sitting twenty blocks away, Harry twisted his aching body once more and disapparated away. Landing on his numb feet by the side of the building, Harry hobbled around the corner and to the front entrance, ignoring the doorman who stared at him with a curious eye.
"How may I help you sir?" A receptionist asked, watching in slight concern as Harry tottered to the front desk.
"Um, yes. Do you by any chance have any available rooms for today and tomorrow night? I just got into town." Harry replied, feeling a slight bit of anxiety swirl within his stomach as he wiped away a small smear of blood decorating the corner of his mouth. The man's concern appeared to have increased but he professionally continued forward. "We do have a couple of rooms available, will it just be yourself sir?"
Harry nodded and the man continued, "Very well, may I have your name?"
"Harrison Potter" responded Harry.
"Thank you Mr. Potter, that'll be £132 for the two nights. You are in room 425 on the fourth floor. Breakfast is served from 6:00 to 10:00 a.m." The receptionist informed Harry as he typed away on his computer.
"Wonderful," Harry muttered as he drew his wand. He gave a look around and cast the Confundus charm on the man. The man looked at Harry curiously and Harry informed him that he had already paid and was waiting for his room key. Harry was relieved when the man handed him a card before dismissing him. Stumbling away, Harry quickly located the lifts before punching his floor number in.
It took a few seconds of fiddling with the key to his room when he found it but he was eventually able to make his way inside. After placing the Do Not Disturb sign on the door handle to the room, Harry quickly stripped before dropping his knapsack and mokeskin pouches on the table. With effort, he made his way to the loo and immediately turned on the showerhead, drenching himself in the tingly embrace of warm water.
"Such a disappointment…"
Harry tried to tune it out, but the whispers still echoed within his ears. Clenching his eyes tightly, he began to scrub hard. Washing away all the blood and imaginary dirt caking his skin. A gasp of breath emerged as his hand drifted down a particularly sore spot on his upper arm. Harry carefully switched arms as he edged away from the sudden shock of pain he had woken.
After his poor attempt to drown himself, Harry dried himself off before limping into bed. Burrowing beneath the heavy blankets, Harry allowed the shadows creeping through his vision to take over as he drifted off into the realm of dreams.
The ride through the English Channel had been scarier than Harry had expected.
He had faced Dementors, Death Eaters, and a Dark Lord. But this? This was new and absolutely terrifying. Tonnes of water sitting above his head in a glass tunnel as he sat in a metal tube just waiting to be crushed by the sheer aquatic pressure. Harry supposed that the view could have been beautiful but the fact that he was in a high speed train going underwater with no escape except for Apparation was terrifying.
He hadn't stopped feeling tense until the train had arrived in Paris. It was already noon when he arrived so he decided to take advantage of the opportunity and spend the rest of the day sightseeing around the city. He supposed he could understand why Fleur would rave about the beauty of France compared to that of England: the massive metal structure known as the Eiffel Tower, that doubled in beauty at night; the buttery soft loaves of fresh bread with crisp crusts seducing the passersby on the street; the Arc de Triomphe standing proudly over the swarm of cars that circled around it in multiple rotations; the cropped verdant fields of lush grass adorned with the bouquets of flowers and bountiful trees within the Tuileries Garden. They all emanated with a sense of beauty and magnificence that Harry struggled to formulate into words.
He didn't even want to talk about the heavenly gifts known as macaroons. Especially the hand-sized ones that were served in the Louvre. The sweet, soft, velvet texture of the delectable within combined with the crisp skin proved to be, what Harry could only describe in bastardly terms as a cookie sandwich. In the end, pistachio had to be Harry's favorite.
After spending the night in Paris, he had taken a second train to Zürich. Walking around the city with zero sense of direction, Harry was relieved when he found an officer patroling the sidewalk.
"Sir? Sir," Harry waved, garnering the attention of the officer as he crossed the street towards the waiting man. "I was wondering if you knew where I could find the Swiss National Bank?"
"Was?" The officer frowned as Harry repeated his question. It was only when Harry decided to pull out a gold coin did the officer point over Harry's shoulder before speaking in what Harry assumed to be German, "Die Bank, ja?"
Harry turned and saw one of the local banks before turning back to the officer, feeling slightly frustrated, "I need the National Bank, not a local bank."
"Was?" The officer repeated. "Bist du verirrt?"
Now the officer looked confused as Harry began waving his gold coin frantically in desperation for the officer to understand. "Was machst du? Brauchst du hilfe?"
Fortunately for Harry, a friendly passerby noticed the two struggling to communicate. After a brief explanation, the man was able to act as a translator between them. As Harry reached the end of his directions, his eyebrows quirked when he realized that the building in front of him appeared to be that of a large, old-fashioned stone manor instead of a more modern or corporate design. In front, was a stone courtyard with sprouts of water spraying high as kids weaved between the streams, giggling.
Sticking to the side of the courtyard, Harry pulled a shirt out from his knapsack before transfiguring it into a suitcase with a fluent motion of his wand. Hitting the newly created suitcase with an expansion and a feather-light charm, Harry slowly began to pour the galleons from his mokeskin pouches into the suitcase. When his pouches finally emptied, Harry zipped the suitcase up before dragging his luggage across the courtyard and into the building.
The first teller he had approached smiled politely as she directed him to a waiting area. In a few short minutes as Harry twiddled his thumbs, feeling out of place, a young man with brown tousled hair approached him with a civil smile across his lips. Led to a small office, Harry made sure to seat his suitcase in front of him as he sat in the offered chair.
"Guten tag Herr Potter," the tousled hair man spoke as he leaned against his desk. "Is this your first time at the Swiss National Bank?"
His eyes flickered up and down Harry's attire, making Harry feel slightly ashamed of his underdressed apparel. In an effort to seem dignified, Harry straightened in his seat and brushed away his nervousness with a thin veneer of calm. This was quickly waved away when the crease between the man's eyebrows deepened as he stared, unimpressed.
"Yes." Harry said, cursing himself for his stutter. Reaching into his suitcase, Harry pulled out a galleon before placing it onto the desk. "I wanted to make an exchange? I have a good amount of gold passed down to me from my family that I wanted to use."
"I see." The bank official spoke as his interest was piqued by the gold shimmering in front of him. "Tell me Herr Potter, I've never seen this sort of imprint before. Would you mind telling me where it is from?"
Harry blinked. Once, twice, three times as his mind reeled for an answer. His heart began to pound heavily against his ribcage as he met the man's expectant gaze.
"I couldn't tell you." Harry answered as he pinched himself on the wrist in an effort to calm his beating heart. "This is all I received from my parents' will before they died in a car accident. I never had the opportunity to ask."
"Of course, you have my condolences." The man replied as he slightly angled his head in curiosity. "Tell me, are you… American?"
"British," Harry corrected, missing the slight change in the man's voice from the last sentence.
"Oh, I see." Digging beneath his desk, the man withdrew a magnifying glass. "It is quite peculiar. Roman perhaps? No, the style is entirely different. Anglo-Saxon? Viking?" Harry waited patiently for the man to finish. "It is rare that a family's wealth be so consolidated in precious gold." The tousled haired man spoke, his eyes gleaming with interest.
"Call it a surprise to myself as well."
The man nodded before asking Harry to remain as he took the coin to be tested for purity. Filling out the forms handed to him, Harry waited patiently as he eyed the few ornaments and baubles that decorated the room. When the man returned, Harry could see a faint shock in the man's eyes as he settled himself down in his seat.
"Herr Potter, are you aware that this coin contains almost zero impurities? Something that should have been impossible if this coin is as old as I suspect it to be."
Harry shrugged, he had no idea.
"Is this the only piece of gold you have?"
Shaking his head, Harry gestured to the suitcase he had brought with him into the room. Circling around the desk, the man watched as Harry unzipped it to reveal its contents filled to the brim with the strange gold coins.
"Scheisse..." The man swore as he knelt down to examine all the wealth resting in the middle of his office. "You were a very foolish man to be carrying this much to our bank. Next time, you may want to take precautions."
"So can you exchange it?" Harry asked tensely as the man's eyes seemed hypnotized by all the gold resting in front of him.
"Of course." The man said once more. "Though I do suggest you keep your wealth safe in an account with us. Switzerland is a very friendly place but one can never be too cautious."
Harry nodded, allowing for the first true smile to overcome the man's face. "Gut, I will have to draw up a few forms but after, we shall talk business. Commission fees, exchange rates, you understand. Do you have an address, email or mobile number I can contact you with?"
As well as letting his accent shine through his otherwise flawless English, it seemed his excitement has started a round of rapid-fire questions.
A groan escaped Harry's lips as he slumped down in his seat, preparing for a long afternoon.
A/N: Hi! Venerance here,
I know some of you may become upset about the gold scene we wrote. I'd like to start out by saying, yes, Harry is converting gold he had taken from his vault in Gringotts with the Swiss National Bank. Will it be an obscene amount? No, not at all. Harry will just receive a bit of wealth that still has the ability to run out if he doesn't manage it well. Trust me when I say that I had to fight with Phoenix on lowering the amount of wealth Harry brought in.
*Glares at Phoenix* "Entire Family vaults of the Potters and Blacks, my ass" *Cough*
But do remember, Harry is 19. He doesn't fully understand how the Muggle world works despite living in it. All because he doesn't have the same experience an ordinary Muggle child or adult would. So he will make mistakes, he is not God.
A/N: Phoenix here,
To concerns about how Harry was overpowered in the last chapter by his captors, Harry is by no means a weak wizard. Not at all, however Harry was on the run for quite a while and was malnourished and lacked the alertness he really would have needed to confront a squad of Hit-Wizards. We didn't want Harry to start off as some sort of super OP, he has a ways to go. But we'll get to see him in action soon.