A/N: Alrighty, back by popular demand, heeeeere's Harry! Sorry, there's not a lot of dialogue, since he's pretty much a loner right now.
What's he been up to all this time?
16. A Plan Set in Motion
Harry Potter woke up to the sun shining brightly in his face through the window. For several moments, he had no idea where he was. Slowly, the events of last night returned to his sleep-addled mind: the argument with Hermione, the incredibly long broom ride, freezing despite his cold weather gear, and the long port over to his current location. He hoped it was all a bad dream, that he would wake up and it would be the first week of class again. But one look around him told him there would be no class for him today.
Harry raised himself to a sitting position on the bed, his head in his hands. For a moment, he just sat there, allowing his body to adjust to full wakefulness. Rubbing his eyes, he reached for his glasses and walked to the bathroom. After answering his biological need, Harry washed his face and stared at his reflection in the mirror. That would definitely have to change. Over the past several months, since his Metamorphagus training sessions began over the summer, Harry had the ultimate goal of hiding his famous scar. Recently, he'd been able to soften it somewhat, but never completely hide it, and that feat required great amounts of concentration that left him feeling drained. Now, facing the mirror and focusing his magic inward, Harry willed his scar to vanish, and it did!
Harry was only slightly surprised, but greatly pleased. Stepping out of the bathroom, he took two steps to the kitchenette in the tiny, one-room flat he had rented. Harry had found the place through an ad in the Daily Prophet and arranged to rent it sight-unseen through owl post and by transferring the first month's rent from his new Gringott's vault to the owner's. Harry prepared a breakfast of cereal and cold milk for himself. He sat on the couch and ate off of the cocktail table, the only pieces of furniture, along with his bed, that he owned. As Harry ate, he remembered the night in the Forbidden Forest, when he performed his near-miraculous feat of wandless magic. He'd had plenty of time to mull that particular incident over.
Through his research in Hogwarts enormous library, he had read about the effects that a traumatic experience could have on magic power, both for good and ill. He felt that both applied to him now. In particular, he read of several cases where incidents of child abuse and caused a dampening of the child's magic, even so far as obscuring it behind layers and layers of emotional abuse. Harry grimaced; another thing he could thank the Dursley's for. In a way it made sense, for it explained his proficiencies with certain spells (like his Patronus) and his prior incidents of wandless magic, as well as his utter…Neville-ness with simpler spells, like Transfiguration in general. But traumatic experiences seemed to follow Harry around like moths to a flame. He surmised that his emotional reaction to the idea that Hogwarts would be overcome somehow let his magic potential breakthrough the emotional scars left by the Dursley's. He did feel more powerful, and his ability to hide his scar seemed to confirm his thoughts.
A loud knocking on his door broke Harry from his thoughts. Checking first to make sure his scar was hidden, Harry straightened. He looked through the peephole before opening the door.
"Hello Mr. Leonard," Harry said politely to his new landlord.
"Ah, I thought I heard you moving about, Mr. Harrington," Mr. Leonard replied with a smile, and then he paused. "I, er, I hope you don't mind saying, but you look awfully familiar to me. Have we met before?"
"Oh, no Mr. Leonard," Mr. "Harrington" replied. Harry quickly brushed his hand against his forehead, relieved that his scar was still concealed.
"Oh, alrighty then. I just wanted to introduce myself and welcome you to the neighborhood," he said with a warm smile.
"Thank you very much. I'm sure I'll like it here," Harry said with a smile of his own.
Harry closed the door behind his elderly landlord, slightly frustrated. Even without his scar, Harry was still somewhat recognizable. He went to the bathroom and stared at his reflection again. Fortunately it wasn't an enchanted mirror, so he didn't have to endure any of the usual commentary about his appearance. Harry stared at his face and realized that his scar wasn't the only distinguishing mark about Harry Potter, though it was the most important. There were also his glasses, those black, round-framed glasses that he always wore in photographs. They had to go. His eyes were a problem also - too green. Harry concentrated, and as he watched, his eyes shifted in color to a nice cool blue. There, that would do. Finally, there was the matter of his hair. Harry concentrated again, but despite his best efforts and his newfound power, his hair refused to become manageable, still messy as ever. He did manage to change his hair color to blond, so that would have to do. He gave his reflection a smile and started to walk out the bathroom, when he paused suddenly and did a double-take. His eyes were green again! Confused, Harry concentrated on changing his eye color. They returned to blue, but his hair became black. Frustrated, Harry focused on both his eyes and his hair. They appeared as he wished, but his scar returned. Harry groaned. That would definitely not do; he apparently didn't have enough power or control to do everything he wanted. After giving it a great deal of thought, Harry decided to rely on Muggle technology, hair dye, to change his hair color. Returning his eyes to blue and his forehead to smooth, Harry returned to his couch and finished breakfast. Harry looked at his watch; it was late morning, and he decided to explore the small town he would now call home. He had no pressing engagements scheduled, and his new job didn't start until the next day. Harry tossed aside his Hogwarts uniform and put on Dudley's old clothes that fit the best. He locked his door and walked out of the building.
Boroughbridge was small English town situated in northern England, about fourteen and a half kilometers from Harrogate, far from Hogwarts. Harrogate had a sizable magical community, hidden amongst the genteel Muggle population. Boroughbridge had reasonable prices for flats, and it was within easy distance to Harrogate but far from the hustle and bustle of the bigger city. Harry was pleased; after being the center of attention for the past six years, Harry felt he could easily fade into the background at Boroughbridge. Harry toured his new home. He found a convenience store that sold hair dye, and then took lunch at a quaint little establishment. After lunch, Harry returned to his room and, carefully following instructions, dyed his hair a dirty blond color. Satisfied, Harry found his landlord and got directions to the nearest portkey station for travel to and from Harrogate.
Harry walked to the station just in time for the next transport. Paying the small fee, Harry placed his finger on the portkey and waited for the tug at his navel. A mere twenty seconds later, Harry found himself in the wizarding section of Harrogate. Grabbing a map from the tourist display outside the portkey station, Harry's first destination was the local branch of Gringott's. It was smaller version the main building in Diagon Alley, though less ostentatious. Harry was surprised to find the branch manned not by the goblins he was accustomed to, but by regular wizards and witches. Harry waited his turn, and then approached the next available window.
"Hi, I'm Sean Harrington," Harry said. "I believe I have a package waiting for me, and I'd like to make a withdrawal."
The young witch at the counter flashed him a customary smile and took his key and information down, her eyes widening slightly at the amount Harry wished to withdraw. "If you'll just wait a moment," she said, then left, leaving Harry standing at the window. Harry was slightly surprised, then realized that his vault was still physically in Diagon Alley and no roller-coater ride would be needed. Harry knew that his Gringott's vault would be an easy way to track him down, or at least to keep tabs on his activities. Via owl post, Harry transferred the contents of his vault to a new one, under the name of Sean Harrington. After a lengthy verification process that exhausted poor Hedwig, Harry received his new key. Harry also found that Gringott's would act as a mail post of sorts, and he had purchased an item via owl post that he had delivered to the Harrogate branch. The witch returned shortly, and Harry, after exchanging some wizarding money for Muggle money, placed his galleons in his moneybag, pounds in a Muggle wallet, and shouldered his package. Harry left Gringott's and wandered around a bit, before finding an unoccupied bench overlooking a small park. Harry opened his package and pulled out the robe inside.
This particular robe was very special, and very expensive; in fact, they were only slightly less expensive that the Firebolt Sirius bought him. Harry had read about them a few years ago in a Daily Prophet article. The story focused on the new advances and discoveries in spell crafting that went behind into the robe and stuck in his mind, though he would never have thought he would be spending so much money on a single item. The robes were developed for Aurors to use in extremely high-risk situations, but because of the high cost, they were not standard issue gear. They had several features that Harry thought invaluable. One was that they could change their color, and texture to a slight degree, to match an existing robe; this allowed the Aurors to wear the robe while undercover. They also had a special hidden pocket that only the wearer could access; it was a place for a second wand, protected within the robes, in case the Auror was disarmed. But the most expensive feature was the most important one: the robes absorbed and dispersed harmful magical energy becoming, in effect, a wizard's bulletproof vest. Curses and hexes directed against it would be absorbed and then released in the form of heat. The transformation occurred so swiftly that the heat was barely noticeable, but a large influx of magic could cause the robes to climb in temperature; fortunately, the wearer was protected, but anyone near him would be affected.
Harry smiled broadly as he put the robe on over his regular clothes. Following the directions, he changed its appearance from its original majestic blue into a shabby and worn-looking black. Pleased with the results, Harry continued his tour the magical Harrogate. He passed by a wand shop and went in. It was smaller than Ollivander's, but much neater and less dusty. He put his own wand in the secret pocket of his robe and looked around. Finally with the help of the clerk, Harry purchased a new wand. It wouldn't be as good as his original wand, but it would make do. Harry left the shop pleased, and toured Harrogate until he found a store that surprised him - an eye doctor. Harry didn't even know wizards had eye doctors, or even if that's what they were called. Harry entered and browsed the selection of frames that filled the walls. Finally, he went up to the witch at the desk and asked if he could make an appointment, accustomed to Muggle doctors who needed reservations weeks in advance. To his surprise, the doctor was available, and Harry was led to his office. It soon became clear why no appointment was necessary; the entire visit, from examination to picking out new frames, took a mere fifteen minutes - magic truly made things easier. The doctor had placed an enchanted mirror in front of Harry after he removed his glasses. Covering one eye, the mirror automatically adjusted until he could see clearly without any prompting. The process was repeated for the other eye, and that was all there was to it. Harry selected a pair of wire-frame, oval glasses (a drastic switch from the plastic, round frames he currently sported), and the lenses were crafted in minutes. He inquired about fixing his eyesight completely. After all, he reasoned, couldn't magic be used to fix his eyesight? He had heard something about a similar procedure in the Muggle world.
"I'm I can't help you there, Mr. Harrington," the doctor said apologetically. "Transfiguring the miniscule nerves of the eye is too exacting for almost all wizards. There are a few who can, but there services are extremely expensive, and appointments are incredibly difficult to acquire; they're usually reserved for the rich and the famous." Harry nodded, then paid for his new glasses and left. He returned to the portkey station where he paid the fee for the transport. Instead of returning to Boroughbridge, though, Harry paid for a pass to Diagon Alley; he still had a few things left to purchase that wasn't to be found in Harrogate. Harry then sat quietly while he waited, trying to appear as innocuous as possible, before joining two other wizards on a trip to London.
To Harry, Diagon Alley was practically deserted. Although still quite lively with wizards and witches doing their last minute shopping, Harry was used to a Diagon Alley filled with students and their families buying supplies for school. Harry followed a path he once took by accident, and he turned down towards Knockturn Alley.