A/N Still don't Own Harry Potter
Gripclaw examined the jewel under a jeweller's loupe before tapping it with his long tapered finger, seemingly satisfied he turned to his customer.
"Now before we begin, I must ask you, is any of this stolen?" he asked.
"No, it is mine under the right of conquest," Harry replied easily, looking the goblin straight in the eye.
The treasure from the raid on the manor lay organised in rows next to Harry. Jewels and other precious stones sat next to deadly-looking cursed weapons. Bearer bonds sat next to piles and piles of galleons. Anything that looked even remotely expensive sat in this room, which had to be expanded to fit all the treasure. Its marble flooring stretched almost comically into the distance, they had dropped off all the loot from the raid a week ago, and they were told to come back today,
Harry was in a hurry to liquidate, and everyone assured him that the goblins would pay top value for all of it, but to be warned because they were a crafty bunch.
The goblin gave a predatory grin, "excellent, not many witches and wizards use the right of conquest anymore, it's nice to see someone use the old ways. I've discussed this with our bank manager Ragnok, he has agreed to give you seventeen million galleons for all of this."
James' eyes went wide when he heard the number, about to accept when harry put his hand on his arm and shot him a warning glance, before saying, "It's worth no less than thirty million, but given how I'm wanting it liquidated today, I'll let it go for twenty-five million"
James' eyes bulged out of his head, His son's head was going to end up on a pike! He could just imagine it, his son returns home, only to be killed by goblins.
The goblin laughed, "I like you, so for you, seventeen and a half."
Harry shook his head vehemently. "Twenty-two or I walk."
He picked up a goblin-made dagger and began to mess with it, but the goblin being something of a knife user himself, could see the skill with which the knife was handled. Perhaps this human could amount to something interesting.
"Eighteen, that's the most you'll get"
"If eighteen was the best you'd have stopped at fifteen. Let's cut the bullshit, agree on twenty, and both walk away unhappy."
A large smile split the goblin's lips, before sticking his hand out to the young wizard, and saying, "I do believe that we can agree."
Harry shook his hand. Griphook was surprised at the young man's strength.
"Will you need anything else?" the goblin asked.
"I'll need a quarter of the value in muggle money," Harry said as he stood, "Oh, and possibly see if you can buy the 'new' Malfoy manor, the one that was tragically attacked, for House Getthen."
"House Getthen, I wasn't aware of such an entity," Gripclaw said.
"There's not, yet, but I'll need a base of operations, and I was hoping that for a price you could help set that up."
"Why should we help you, wizard?" Gripclaw asked
"Because if the Death Eaters win, there will be much less money flowing into your coffers. How much new currency comes from the Muggleborns, or business with the muggle world, as you so eloquently put it?"
"What makes you think we do any sort of business with the muggle world?"
"Easy, I've seen the relative size of Diagon Alley, set inside one of the largest metropolitan areas in the world. Your kind is far too shrewd and resourceful to let those trillions of galleons just sit there." Harry said with confidence.
"We may have some inroads to the muggle world," Gripclaw answered cautiously
"And you don't believe that those would be shut down, and you would be forbidden from trade with the lowly muggles if Lord Voldemort took over?"
"Perhaps," Gripclaw reluctantly agreed, "that is, of course, working under the assumption that they even know we do work with the muggles. Which I doubt."
"Fair enough" Harry relented, but "is that a risk you are willing to take?"
"Perhaps, perhaps not," Griphook said. He could smell a deal to be made. "And assuming we facilitate the creation of this new house, Getthen, what's in it for us?"
"I will use goblin-exclusive contracting for the repair and building of my new home, as well as a contract for goblin-made wards on this and all future projects."
"How may we be of service Mr. Getthen?" the goblin asked smiling viciously
"Mr. Getthen? It's Potter, for now, I want the wizarding community to be confused about this new house that has popped up. I will be a silent partner." Harry said a smile as vicious as the goblin's mirrored on the face of one harry potter"
"Now as for your twenty percent Muggle money, stop by this address to discuss the transition of such wealth into their bank whenever is convenient for you. It's been done before, but the Vice President of Magical Investment keeps an eye on such large influxes of wealth. Just tell him you're there to meet with David Taylor."
"Is there anything else you need to discuss with Gringotts today?" Gripclaw asked as he helped open the door to his office, letting Harry and James back into the hustle and bustle of the regular bank.
As they left the marble edifice, and into the hustle and bustle that was Diagon Alley, with its odd smells and sounds as people went about their daily shopping. Some wizard was calling out to the crowd about beatle eyes for a certain amount of knuts. The newest Firebolt was in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies, with all the young boys' heads plastered against the window, leaving streaks as the boys drooled over it.
James turned to Harry "House Gettthen, why that name, and why a new house at all, especially at that location?"
"Getthen was the name I was known by in my world, I would like to keep at least a piece of that alive with me, while I am here."
"You aren't going to stay here?" James asked in alarm.
"Honestly? I don't know. I am a warrior, there I was able to be a warrior. Here I don't know what I am, or who I should be. We shall see. It will be many years before it even becomes an issue. As for why a new house? Simple, to confuse our enemies. Having a new and wealthy house possibly from an exotic location pop up, making its money from war? It will throw your Wizengamot into a tizzy, especially when House Gethhen has no official political power. As for why that location? Mainly to tweak the noses of the Death Eaters, a monument to their first failure." he said without a shred of emotion in his voice.
It was then it clicked for James. Harry wasn't a boy. He wasn't a young man playing at being a soldier. This was a man who grew up understanding innately war. This was a man who was willing to do whatever it took to win to wipe this threat off the earth so completely and utterly that one would only talk about it in hushed tones in dark allies, worried that Harry might overhear and end them as well.
Looking deep into Harry's eyes, James saw no emotion. Harry knew he was going to win. There wasn't a shred of doubt in his mind. Harry was going to win, no matter the price. That thought scared and exhilarated him in equal measure.
James looked at Harry in a new light. "You're serious, aren't you? You will win. You will kill Voldemort, won't you?"
"I said I would."
James was quiet while they made their way down the cobblestone street of Diagon Alley. Finally, they stopped in front of a faded sign. Squinting at it, Harry made out the faded words "Ollivanders', Makers of fine wands since 382 BC."
Harry wasn't sure but something about this building called to him. James turned to Harry and said, "Getting your wand at Ollivanders' is very important. Most do it alone, it's quite an experience. Good luck."
Turning away, he made his way down the alleyway before getting swallowed up by the throngs of people. Harry pushed open the door and heard the bell tinkle, announcing the arrival of a new customer. Inside the shop was dusty and dingy, like the windows hadn't been cleaned in ages, the smell of wood unmistakable, each smell melding in with each other wrestling in a cacophony. It reminded him a lot of his workshop back in Kissindra, especially the dark and dingy spaces, but the smell and sounds were unmistakable.
"I'll be with you in a moment, '' came a voice from somewhere in the back. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the darkened interior, Harry looked around at all the wands stacked to the roof, all of them in rectangular boxes, each of them a different length.
Some looked brand new, others looking like they had been here for years, but there was a buzz of magic from each, each eager to find its owner.
"Impressive, isn't it," a voice came from behind him, spinning as he saw a diminutive man at his elbow looking at the same spot Harry had been looking moments earlier. His shock of white hair sticking up at odd angles, goggles perched upon his forehead, but most unnerving were his eyes which seemed to see into his very soul.
"Ollivander at your service," he said, giving Harry the one over. "A wand I presume?"
"Yes sir," Harry said, unsure why he felt the need to be deferential to this man, but he did.
"What happened to your old one?" Ollivander asked. Harry froze, he hadn't thought of a good cover story for why he would need a wand. Saying he was auditing Hogwarts would lead to more questions than was prudent for him to answer at the moment, and admitting that he didn't have a wand would leave him vulnerable.
"It… It broke." Harry said quickly.
"A broken wand at your age? Unusual but not unheard of." Ollivander said. "Well, do you want a custom wand or an off-the-shelf wand? I recommend a custom wand. The regulars burn out after a while if you plan on using it heavily, but for most witches and wizards, regular wands are fine."
"What's the cost difference?" Harry asked.
"An off-the-shelf wand is seven Galleons, a custom wand is fifteen."
"I'll take the custom wand then"
Harry followed the strange man into the back of his shop where a workshop was set up, each wood in a seemingly random pattern. Along with the wood, there were other things listed like unicorn hair or dragon heartstring. Harry could only assume it was meant to be the cores.
"If possible, please reach out your senses and touch the woods." Ollivander flicked his wand as the wood began to rotate around an invisible centre point. Harry let his magic guide him toward one. Grasping it with his hand. he opened his eyes to find himself holding a rod of some sort of black wood.
"Ah, interesting, ebony, a very temperamental wand, good for extremely powerful wizards. Now please do the same with the cores."
Another carousel of materials began to rotate. This time it took Harry much longer to find a suitable core, but soon he began reaching for one when a familiar piece of magic was brought to his attention. Grasping the Basilisk tooth, he began following the pull towards the back of the workshop. Finally, after just a few more steps he found it, an unbound Mech Core. Grasping it tightly in his hand he turned to Ollivander.
Things started to click into place, the vague sense of familiarity of this place, the feeling of difference he seemingly held to this man, without knowing why. The unbound mech core. It all clicked.
"Oll Vander?" Harry asked, afraid of the answer.
Oll Vander was a legendary mech creator, who had disappeared years ago before Harry had even appeared in that world, but even new Oll Vander cores were prized. Every monarch had to have an Oll Vander core. They were legitimate heirlooms. When they did come up for auction, which was increasingly rare, they went for millions of credits worth.
Harry had bid on one using his not insubstantial wealth only to be beaten out by King Hellron's idiot of a nephew. He had thrown more money to beat Harry than Harry had ever earned, or would ever earn in his lifetime. That was the most expensive core to date, selling at one and a half billion credits. Harry smirked at the memory.
"What did you call me?" Ollivander asked quietly, barely overheard over the running of the lathe.
"Oll Vander, legendary mech creator," Harry responded in a reverent tone.
"How? How do you know that name?' the man asked, shocked. "I left that name behind, No one knows it."
With that he swished his wand much more forcefully, the windows slammed shut, the deadbolts slid, and Harry could feel an intense pressure bearing down on him, the weight of a thousand mechs keeping him in place.
"Talk," the old man commanded, all traces of levity gone from his voice.
"How do you know my name? he asked, his eyes darting around, making sure they were secure.
Harry took a deep breath, "As far as I can tell I was born here, in the United Kingdom about sixteen years ago, and on Halloween of 1981, I was attacked by one Lord Voldemort and sent to Kissindra. I was taken in by a family who called Makavia their home-"
"Ah, of course, and you were found to be mech capable by the Makavian military, and taken and trained, but that doesn't explain how you ended up here." Ollivander interrupted.
"I'm getting to it," Harry said. "Once I finished my mandatory two-year stint, I quit and became a mercenary."
"A mercenary or a corsair?"
"A mercenary. All of the major players offered me their colours. Makavia, Cygar, even Llyal, but I turned them all down." he said, with a hint of sadness.
Ollivander put a hand on Harry's shoulder, comforting him.
"I understand, my boy, believe me, I do, there was a reason I also sold to all countries."
"Anyway, I was helping Cygar push the Church of the Awakened ones out of Zyra when this old crone must have done a ritual on me and pushed me back here, I got back a week ago. I walked through a portal in a stone room in I think the Department of Mysteries, and right into a Death Eater attack. My mum was guarding some sort of prophecy, so without thinking I kind of wiped out the death eaters, I've been living at Potter manor ever since. How about you?"
"After the last war between Makavia and the barbarians from the hinterlands, they approached me to ask if I would make autonomous mechs, something that wouldn't endanger the lives of their soldiers. I was messing with putting a spirit into the core, only to have it create a giant rift in reality. I was sucked through and found myself in the same room you just described. All I had on me was my clothes and that core right there." he said pointing to the core Harry was holding.
"Luckily I was able to escape before the Unspeakables found me and began looking for work."
"What are Unspeakables?" This time it was Harry's turn to interrupt.
"They're the people who work at the Department of Mysteries," Ollivander replied. "Alright bunch, once they get over the whole 'from a different universe' bit. Anyway, I found I had about as much knack for wand creation as I did core creation so after a few years of wandering the world learning as much as I could, I decided to settle down here."
"But wait," Harry said, "Your sign says 'makers of fine wands since 382 BC.'"
Ollivander let out a low chuckle.
"Marketing my boy, marketing, No, No I set up shop in 1920 and just told customers my family was from somewhere exotic and I was just continuing with the family business. Now tell me of your mech, please by the gods above do not tell me you're still lumbering around in a Mosquito."
Harry let out a bark of laughter.
"No, don't worry. I sold it to some poor kid who wanted to play slam ball, and purchased a Ravager Chassis."
"And the core?" Ollivander asked.
"Oh, I had it transplanted after trying the Ravagers model and deciding I preferred the one I already had."
Olivander looked askance. "Surely you can't be serious," he said.
"What, what's wrong with it?" Harry asked, perturbed.
"The Mosquito core, or any small mech core, is only really meant to be used with similar-sized mechs. A larger core can handle smaller mechs just fine, but a smaller core will eventually warp and break if used in a larger mech. You're lucky you're even alive, your magic must have been doing some heavy lifting, to keep that thing running."
Harry swallowed nervously, "I don't have another core, I never thought I'd need one."
"Take that one, it was built to handle a thousand tonnes."
"But even the super heavy mech classification stopped at five hundred tonnes!" Harry said incredulously.
"It was a challenge to see if I could," Ollivander said with just a hint of smugness. "And obviously, I succeeded. I don't recommend it, it took way more work and is way more powerful than is needed for literally anything, for once the Kissindra University of Sciences were correct in their classification and standardisation of mech and core sizes."
Looking down at his watch, he realised that he had been talking to Olivander for close to two hours.
"Look Mr Vander, it has been wonderful to talk to you, but as it turns out, I need to finish my shopping. I told Albus Dumbledore I would audit his winter semester, so I'm supposed to be school shopping." Harry inwardly cringed at how stupid that sounded but marched onwards. "How much do I owe you for the core?"
Cores were expensive, especially heavy ones like this, an unbound core itself could go north of one hundred thousand credits.
"Keep it" came the reply. "Just promise me you'll kill Voldemort, I'll drop off your wand later, probably tomorrow," Ollivander said.
"Hello dearie," said a pleasant-looking witch when Harry reached Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.
He found his father sitting there, reading a magazine called Witch Weekly, waiting for him, He was surrounded by bags of various things from books to, what a cauldron to gloves, seemingly everything that was on the list, He surreptitiously dropping the core on top of The Standard Book of Spells Grade 6.
"Madam Malkin it is my pleasure to introduce my nephew Henry Dursley," James said with a slight bow.
"A nephew?" Madam Malkin asked. " I wasn't aware you had siblings, James."
"Oh, I don't, he's my second cousin's son, he's visiting from America, We just find it easier to refer to him as our nephew rather than-" he paused for a moment to calculate the fictitious relationship. "-My second cousin once removed."
"Too true, too true," she laughed, "What brings you here?"
"He's on an exchange program to Hogwarts this term" he lied easily.
"Oh, how fun!" she exclaimed. "Let's get you fitted for your Hogwarts robes, step right up here."
She indicated a raised platform. Stepping onto the requested surface tape measures immediately flew up to Harry and took measurements with a quill floating up behind, copying it all down
"Is there anything special in your robes?" Madam Malkin asked, pinning and unpinning different pieces everywhere.
"Is there a way to perhaps have some protection from hostile spellfire?" Harry asked hesitantly.
"Depends on how much. It's fairly easy to weave basic protection enchantments into the cloth as is. For more intense stuff you'll need Acromantula silk, it's more naturally resistant than cotton, and is enchanted easily, making the heavy-duty spells used much more receptive to the cloth."
Harry thought about it for a bit before stating, "I'll take all Acromantula silk robes with all your enchantments."
"That will come to fifteen galleons for all three robes," Madame Malkin's said, doing some quick maths. "Not many people buy the full package, is there a reason?"
"Call it paranoia," Harry said. "At my school in America, it was extremely dangerous; hexes, curses, and what not being thrown about all. Better safe than sorry."
"As long as you have the gold, go for it."
Harry reached into his moleskine pouch and pulled out the requested fifteen galleons.
Pulling down a bolt of very sleek dark cloth, almost watery in its appearance, she began running her wand over everything, muttering under her breath, until finally, Harry saw a very expensive-looking set of robes.
"There you go," she said, handing over the requested robes.
Making sure that the robes covered the core in his bag he made his way out of the shop.
"Henry Dursley?" Harry asked. "Where did you come up with that name?"
"Henry is pretty close to Harry, and Dursley is your aunt's last name. I figured a fake name would be easier than explaining your origin story over and over again."
Harry nodded his head in agreement. They continued walking until they finally reached the door back to the leaky cauldron when James noticed that he wasn't holding a wand.
"Where's your wand?" James asked
"Oh, I bought a custom one from Ollivander," Harry replied easily.
"And it's still not done?" James asked.
"He said I was a tricky customer and he'd drop it off when he was finished."
"Makes sense I suppose," James said, pulling out his wand and tapping the requisite brick. Finally, in the designated Apparition area, they both apparated back to Belladonna House
A/N thank you to ChiaroscuroGirl for her beta work!