Disclaimer: In the beginning, nothing of this will be original. Harry potter and all characters plots and elements that are used are property of the author J.K.Rowling. This is an alternate universe fictional story beginning from the end of year one (Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone), the differences should become greater with each chapter.
How can I explain my situation?
My muse went on vaction with no prior warning.
Yesterday at about nine AM it showed up again.
About 90 percent of it was written in the last twenty four hours. With enough complaints I am willing to redo this chapter
No human is sane at four in the morning, regardless of caffine in the bloodstream.
Oh! The concepts of dark and light are my own original work, everything else has more influences than any could name in a life time
Common knowledge perceived Knockturn Alley a necessary evil. Society did not like to acknowledge the fact that what was needed and what was socially accepted at time did not match up. So much of wizarding knowledge fell into categories that the governments had declared 'dark.' Translating basically as anything the ministry could not monitor or undo and thereby control. In attempts to control these magics, the Ministry of Magic has passed laws that have restricted their use. Most of the time the only way to tell if dark magic was used would be that some person actually witnessed its use or what remnants were left over. The negative thing about this though became visible at this stage of the process. The Minister of Magic was given the choice whether to give charges (and immediate sentencing) or to ignore it thus claiming no retribution. This is not saying that there is no such thing as Dark magic. Quite contrary to popular opinion true, Dark wizards, true ones that is, considered all magic (wand, ritual, potion, etc.) that worked on an individuals mind, spirit, soul, or magic to be true Dark magic. For instance the British Ministry of Magic labelled the Imperius curse as such a 'dark' bit of magic that use on a human being causes instant imprisonment in a dementor controlled establishment for life. While any true practitioner of the Dark Arts would be able to clearly claim that Impereo on its own is no darker than a cheering charm, in fact in certain circles even claiming it Dark would be a severe insult.
Now this is getting far off topic.
Knockturn Alley was a necessary evil. Its public face, which just any wizard could walk around a corner and see, was just a seedier version of Diagon Alley. All the normal shops expected in any wizard shopping area were given slightly darker twists. This was just a face. In reality what the ministry only knew about was the street level (the continuous raids on the many establishments never resulted in anything more than an easily manageable fee. In fact most of the entrepreneurs counted these as part of their running costs.) Knockturn Alley, the length of Diagon itself, could be considered many degrees larger than its lighter counterpart. It extended several stories bellow the ground.
Without the ministry's influence the population of known 'dark' creatures grows constantly. From those that live a charmed/cursed life to those born to feared and unknown kinds including those that have no desire for any direct dealing with human beings, they all shared a relative peace (buyers beware). For the most part this was a flourishing community.
Many of the denizens that resided bellow the surface had very strong aversions to sunlight/ moonlight, direct or indirect. So in its earlier days a very clever system was developed to be able to go directly from street level to the lower levels without any open portals. Air and water was maintained by an extensive system of charms and enchantments provided by one of the few joint cooperation of goblin, dwarven, human, and dark elves. Structure was held by a system of supporting constructions and stabilising enchantments.
It could easily rival Hogwarts as one of the magical wonders of the world.
...
Harry could feel shadows of magic the instant he walked around the corner. Yes, shadows, that would be the best way to describe it. The magic was here yet what it was cast on was not. Momentarily the young boy forgot about his attempted escape from Dumbledore's presence, instead trying to focus more intently on the shades. With this concentration they became clearer while other signatures around him faded away. Around him all the signatures were different than what they were a moment before. It took him a while to realise that the majority of beings around him were not human. Quickly coming to his senses he tried to figure out where the old bastard was, only to realise that he was gone. In looking back trying to figure out what happened the wizard blinked his eyes carefully immediately having his world come into focus. His sense of magic was still there, slightly muted, but still there. The amazing thing was that he could now see through his own eyes, which he started to rub immediately and opened slowly again.
The sun and clouds were gone replaced by an odd twilight. He knew it was hours before sunset but his eyes told him something different. Lightening flashed across the sky, soundlessly. The slight breeze was moist yet cool and clean. Instead of the outrageous displays of wares that were common both in the muggle and wizarding world, the store fronts merely hinted of what they could contain (very reminiscent of Olivander's). Most of the signs were written in a pseudo-English as well as a beautiful script with many more characters than standard.
The pedestrians never raised their voices above a whisper and avoided contact where it was not necessary. The atmosphere was wary. The wizard noticed how every act seemed measured, balanced between caution and intimidation.
Harry knew that he was some where he should not be. Not a single recognisable wizard. Those that were close to human displayed different oddities, a skin shade here, slit pupils there, pointed ears, braided beards, horns or antlers coming from foreheads, claws instead of nails, fur and paws, he swore he even saw an individual with black feathered wings coming from their shoulder blades. The powers from individuals ranged from almost muggle to super nova blazing. As if to prove that the variety of beings were not enough, accompanying several of the walking people was a menagerie of familiars, colourful birds, sleek serpents, every mammal from the largest to the smallest, even the occasional toad, and at a distance Harry spotted something that could only be a miniature dragon (or the fireball came from the purple skinned owner instead). For every individual he could see clearly five were concealed in shadows of cloaks, hat, scarves, veils, helmets. There was a variety of attire from ancient to almost futuristic. If the talons, claws, and fangs did not declare the danger then the visible arsenal would, from sheathed jewel adorned swords to simple daggers, from throwing stars strapped along a forearm to guns hanging from harnesses. There was even the occasional wand holstered on thigh, waist, shoulder, or wrist. On the back of a man who was dressed in shades of brown and green was a long bow with a quiver of arrows. While on a woman with a tail and dressed in black leather and crimson metal armour, were darts and daggers covering almost every inch that could be easily reached. A short sturdy man with a long red beard carried an axe over his shoulder. While another younger man dressed in grey robes walked with a black horse (with flaming hooves that never seemed to actually touch the ground). The street twisted and turned so as that the young wizard could not even see either end. Where another person should have felt worried the green eyed child only felt intense curiosity. The fact that he was somewhere he had not known that could be potentially very dangerous never crossed his mind.
Looking at the nearest shop, the sign had what the raven haired boy believed to be its name in a language where none of the characters were even recognizable. As he continued to look at though its meaning became clear, "Conjuring the Word." OK clear might have been a misnomer; the name even in English still eluded him. "A bookstore maybe," Harry thought to himself. Only to walk in and discover artefacts from wall to wall set up on shelves and display cases that appeared to have little to nothing to do with each other. There were swords with jewelled handles, sets of eyeglasses made from ivory, shields that were made out of blue metal, cloaks made out of grey material, shoes made out of wood, axes of crystal, spoons of diamond, ruby rings, stone bowls, dark obsidian wands, brass flutes, gilded lamps, silver coins, bone tooth picks, copper kettles, just about anything that you might find in a department store that happened to cross the entirety of mans existence and maybe more. The shop seemed small but there was no way that everything could fit in it. The green eyed wizard walked up to a jade statue and reached out for the samurai sword it held.
'The blade is razor sharp,' a feminine voice said behind him. 'The activation runes have yet to be set, but everything else is ready in the golem. It can even be set to personal standards if needed. You won't find a better guard anywhere.'
Turning to face the person, Harry found a woman that reminded him oddly of Malfoy. The same elfin features, grey eyes, sharp cheekbones, blond hair that travelled halfway down her back that appeared so pale that it seemed white. But where Malfoy could be associated with a sneer or a smirk this woman held a gentle smile. She then made a comment to satisfy the young mans curiosity, 'each item here has been empowered with runes. The passive items are fully cast while the more assertive ones need completing sets, ones that direct it what to do and where to go and that like. The runes location and depth are very important,' she reached towards a stone bowl that sat in a display case. Her hand passed through the glass like it was water, yet when Harry touched it, it felt very solid. 'For instance this here is a pensive, between thirty to forty runes carefully etched by whispered words. Its purpose is to hold memories. If this one rune was moved,' she pointed to a symbol that had three curved lines, 'over a millimetre,' she said some words under her breath. The engrossed magic user felt its gentle caress, 'it becomes a dream recorder. If moved in the opposite direction,' another whisper. This time the boy caught the subtle bit of magic, 'it changes to hold thoughts and ideas. If one rune is added,' she grabbed another bowl this one of marble. Then she whispered a spell with a little more force, 'it links these two together, so as this one,' pointing to the marble one 'copies every memory added to the other. This subtlety is usually missed by wizards.' She then pushed her hair back behind her ear, revealing how they came to a soft point, 'luckily elves are trained to be more particular. With four added runes the second changes shape and design,' another spell spoken in a tongue that Harry had not heard before. The original one melts until it becomes like a plate and gains a reflective quality so as it was now an odd mirror. 'Name's Ariathesia. How can I address you?'
'Harry Potter,' the boy felt the gentle caress of magic yet he had no desire to fight it. Well no desire until the words left his mouth in which he became quite alarmed. The magic had seemed nothing like the bitter kind used by Dumbledore.
'You have never dealt with Forest Elves before,' she spoke in response to the unasked question. 'That was a taste of our version of "fascination." I use it with no malice. Most of the time it is hardly noticed,' she spoke with a grin.
Harry's eyes widened and he turned his head to look in all directions.
'No need to be alarmed,' she responded to his reactions, 'my shop and its customers are given the highest degree of discretion,' she nodded towards the entrance. 'It is charmed to only allow people in with no ill intents, as well as being warded with non disclosure enchantments. Now Mr. Potter how can I be of assistance, besides warding you from cutting your self from the eversharp blade of my golem?'
Harry was at a loss of words, 'I... Um, the sign?'
'Why good sir your eloquence astounds me. If I am correct you are talking about the fact that the sign appeared to change while you were watching it?'
To which the boy nodded.
'That is because it did. It is charmed to change to the language of the closest person observing in it. A version of the Bablesque charm as it were...'
The blank stare made her grin widen.
'Look it up when you get to school. You like the type of person who pays attention to the little details. You know what, let me give you something,' she tapped a blank wall towards the back. It melted away revealing what appeared to be a workshop crossed with an office and a storage area. She picked up a scroll from a shelf that appeared to be cluttered with odds and ends. She walked out and the wall re-materialized. She held the scroll out to him. 'Study and figure out how to activate it. If you have any questions don't fret about coming to me.'
With barely five words Harry was out of the rune shop. Upon his emergence the wizard opened the scroll, only to find five symbols on the top line. None of which had any meaning to him. He quietly re-rolled it and shoved it into his robes.
Like a child in a candy store Harry was wide eyed. Trying to decide where to go next Harry turned to look up the street not noticing how he was in the centre of pedestrian traffic. Hearing what sounded like a squawk he turned around only to be ploughed into by an older teen.
...
In Knockturn Alley's Underground appearances were always deceiving.
Rarely was a person what they seemed to be in the world of constant twilight bellow the wizarding streets. Many species maintained an extensive life span. Their knowledge understanding and abilities varied from the unskilled to the master craftsmen. For every desire and need there were pre-existing establishments, from the assassins to the goldsmiths, leatherworker to prostitute. If it could be bought or sold it could be found in the markets of shades and daggers.
...
The young man, with snow white complexion with dark hair with green highlights, instantly offered his hand to the young wizard who accepted unthinkingly. The mans cheeks appeared blotchy as he nodded to Harry thanking him. The thing that caught Harry's attention though was the long incisors that were exposed when the young man grinned as he walked away. Instead of causing him to worry (as any sane full grown wizard would be) it just sparked his curiosity as to where he found himself. Being jostled along in the crowd the wizard quickly turned into the nearest establishment. Looking around inside, he came to the conclusion that it was some sort of bottle shop. The ceramic bottles had labels such as "H-M32 AB RHD+" or "W-W146 O RHD-".
'We have never been able to use any artificial or magiked kind but that does not mean that they have to use the original stuff.' Harry turned and met the gaze of the young man that had run into him before hand. He now had a small shopping bag in his possession. 'Supposedly there is a deal where they switch the donor with the crafted kind. It works all around. We get what we need and the medical people are none the wiser. Sorry again about almost running you over. I think you might be looking in the wrong shop if you want something for yourself, that is if you are not donating?' The grin the pale man flashed was contagious. Harry quickly connected the dots and something he read last year for the Defence Against Dark Arts books crossed his memory, vampire. 'Names Damon,' the vampire extended his hand. Harry had the strange urge that this guy was genuine and accepted it.
Immediately he felt a presence brush across his mind, almost an instant latter he felt something wrap around his thoughts. 'Sorry, normally I would not have done that without permission, but you needed to be shielded. Many down here would be tempted to acquire you because of your name alone. Come with me, you really do not want to stay in this shop for long; I will give you a hand in getting back to the surface. Fresh stuff could be to enticing for some one that is hungry enough,' and even though he remembered so many stories about this kind, Harry felt that he could trust him. The Gryffindor, never having said a word, followed Damon out of the shop, the name appearing as Crimson Cross as it disappeared behind the pedestrian traffic.
'I am just on my lunch break and I had some business to take care of so I sort of am running out of time. Hence the reason I ran you over. I was so embarrassed so I missed your name at first. I normally stay out of peoples minds but I had nothing to eat this morning and my control wavers when I am hungry considering I have not even made it to my first century.'
When they turned into a shop that read "Anima mali Evolesco" Harry's interest peaked when he felt the warmth surround him crossing the threshold. 'Creatures of Power, in butchered Elvish, that is. We deal with some of the rarer creatures of the greater world. I think you tripped off one of the portals when you turned on to Knockturn, if your memory is accurate. That was actually one of the lesser used ones. The most common ones come from the London Underground or the wall behind the Leaky Cauldron,' seeing Harry's confused look the young vampire grinned. 'You know that there are plenty of other combinations to tap a wall with a wand? The difference between the one that leads down here and the one above is you need to intend to come here though as well as there being no archway. You would be surprised how often someone smacks into that wall trying to get here,' Damon walked over to a desk and sat down opening the bottle. In which he placed a clear straw in it. Bringing it up to his lips a dark red liquid moved up it. Damon proceeded to indicate to a chair in front of the desk, 'have a seat and look like your interested in obtaining a dragon or some such thing, my boss would have my head if she found me slacking off,' the again was not needed to be stated.
'Do you actually sell dragons?!' The wide green eyed child exclaimed.
Harry could hear the smirk in the reply. 'Among many other things. Basically if you want it we have it and if we don't we can get it,' it was at this point that Harry realised that Damon had yet to once take his lips from his meal. The vampire only smirked more, 'I was wondering when you would realise you were reading me. You know you don't smell human? Although all the signs point to it,' the curious man stated off handily. 'We have well developed senses but I lack most of the knowledge and experience of an Elder, so I might be mistaken.'
'I sensed you brushing my mind, yet there was not even a hint of magic. Neither when you shielded me?' Harry questioned.
'You actually felt my initial sweep? But I thought only Ancients could... This just became even more intriguing. OK why no magic... OK let me try this, have you ever read science fiction?'
To which Harry responded in the negative. For before this summer he had never read anything outside of school assignments.
The teen aged, for that was when he was turned, with the odd hair colour, looked to be in thought. 'You know you really should read some at some point. It can give you something to dream about other than broomsticks,' the vampire responded. 'Let's start with the basics. Your average human uses anywhere between five to fifteen percent of their brain. It has been speculated that even the most intelligent uses nothing over a fifth of it. Your average vampire uses some odd eighty percent of theirs. In the process of turning the entire body, down to the last brain cell rebuilds itself to the new blueprint that is given. This is why vampires and several other species have thing like empathy, telepathy, and telekinesis. Reading emotions, reading another's mind, and moving objects with their mind respectively, these "gifts" exist in the laws and definitions given by science. Though vampires have their own type of magic, based on our blood, we rarely need to use it. I personally could exist in direct sunlight for ten hours, but even with a good feed, I would take a week of sleeping to recover. Did I lose you there?'
There was definitely a smirk there now.
Oddly enough the boy who lived was actually having a good time.
'Here, let's get you some protection,' Damon rose out of his seat and walked to the other side of the room where a door stood. Following him, Harry noticed that the door was standing about a metre from a wall, freestanding, like one of the doors from a display room. In front of the door there was a pedestal of about waste height with a brass claw growing out of the middle.
'Accio Potions Safety Storage One,' and a little golden marble came off of the rear wall which Harry had believed that some modern artist been given free reign of. There were thousands of similar spheres, each held with similar wooden talon. Damon placed the sphere in the brass claw and it sank into the pedestal, leaving behind a smooth marble top. A second later a silver claw came out holding a blue sphere, which Damon picked up and placed it in his pocket. He then proceeded to the door and turned the handle. 'We have storage facilities all around the world. It is amazing how much easier it is when you can leave frozen items in the Antarctic and use the >Sahara> to keep a hatchery warm. Our main business is in the animal trade. We have strict policies on who we sell them to and magically binding contracts. If you need a dragon liver, we won't sell you a dragon but we will get you the liver. It is amazing how fast one can be grown back with the right potions. If you need an animal specifically for its slaughter we will deal with them at a slightly higher price and an agreement to make their death as painless and quick as possible. I will not trade in the pure animals. Now this is what is lovingly called a Dwarven Cocktail,' Damon handed him a vial from a shelf in the storage room.
Without a second glance Harry downed the thick grey substance. It burned as it travelled downward and the wizard felt a tingling sensation. Next Damon grabbed a small bottle and an eyedropper. 'These we call Fey Tears. You won't be able to see for about thirty second but don't panic. Now look up, head back ...and there.' Tears instantly came to his eyes and Harry once again could not see.
When his vision came back Damon handed the boy a handkerchief.
He went to run a hand through his hair only to find it standing on end. Narrowing his eyes at Damon, Harry growled, 'I hope for both our sakes that that had a purpose other than amusing you.'
'Oops, did I mention the side effects?' Damon grinned.
'Plural? OK I will be patient tell me what that did, please,' the wizard glared.
'Hey it is your fault that you drank it without asking first...' The vampire became nervous when Harry attempted the patented Snape glare (though he did not realise that it was patented at that point in time), 'they are potions to protect you from the more dangerous creatures...'
'Side effects now please,' Harry could not get the death glare quite right. (Patent pending)
'Um besides the static,' the corner of Damon's mouth was twitching.
The volume of Harry's voice dropped to a whisper, 'if you would.'
'Well your eyes will glow in the dark for the next week,' Damon could not quite meet Harry's eyes.
Glowing eyes, Harry could deal with but he heard the unspoken 'and,' 'please tell me what else I am going to have happen?'
'Uh I did not choose, per say, to get green streaks,' now Harry was sure Damon was repressing laughter. But what does his hair have to do...
'Please tell me you are joking,' the shocked look that came to Harry's eyes was the last straw he started laughing, only to fall to the floor when Harry upped the glare to death glare level two without realising (this was the one that only came out of Snape unintentionally when the Weasley twins blew up their first cauldron incidentally staining every one and every thing in the lab a bright florescent pink, it took a month for the stains to fade off those-that-were-there's skin. It is worthy to note that the level three one was developed by the same pair as level two. On a positive note the school was forced to refurbish the entire potions lab.)
Two minutes later, while Damon was still laughing, he did not see the bucket until it was too late. To which he started spluttering. Just because he did not need to breath did not stop him from this tiresome habit.
A drying spell later and exchanged glares (Harry added a smirk to his). They both walked through the door and returned to the shop. Damon placed the blue sphere back in the silver claw, only to pick up the golden one when the brass claw emerged. 'It is a precautionary system. Gold sphere to go to location, blue one to keep it locked. We have three other true portal points not including the central pathways. If the portal is unlocked while you are on the other side, it only happened once when I forgot to take the sphere with me, you end up on the pathways. The issue here is that the greatest distance between two doors is about seventy kilometres. I called in sick the following day. Accio Hatchery Four...'
...
'Headmaster Dumbledore told us that Harry was with a specialist healer. Apparently he lives in isolation at a secure establishment,' a large red haired woman was speaking to her preteen son carefully explaining the situation. She could understand what he was worried about. One of his best friends was caught in an accident at the end of last year, 'he was moved there about a week ago and he is progressing. The headmaster said if all things go well that Harry might be able to return at the beginning of next year. Apparently the eyesight was only one of the smaller problems.' At which point Mrs. Weasley kindly instructed Ronald to go de-gnome the garden.
Ron had been worried about his friend since after the incident with the stone. Madam Pomfrey only allowed him and Hermione to visit him twice at the end of the year and Harry had seemed hardly coherent. Since he came home there was hardly a day that went by that he had not thought about Harry Potter. At the beginning of the summer he had initially felt worried about him. He finally convinced his mother to write to Professor Dumbledore, two weeks after he got home, inquiring about his condition (because the Gryffindors had been told that any communication with Mr. Potter could undermine his security, Professor McGonagall had made that point quite clear.) Albus Dumbledore had responded by the following morning stating that he had discussed Harry's condition with his family and they had been very accommodating. He then mentioned that he was tracking down healers in an attempt to find someone that could handle Harry's unique situation. This had very much relieved the Weasleys. The headmaster had even offered to pass on letters and birthday gifts when he visited Harry at home.
Ronald had issues with not seeing his friend for a whole year. The messages the headmaster passed on from Harry came no where near satisfying.
He had felt sorry for Harry at first but then he realised that Harry got the better part of the deal. Distracted slightly by his thoughts a gnome took advantage of it and chomped down on his hand.
'Harry Potter probably did not have to do any chores,' Ron thought to himself. 'He got a year off from school! That meant that he did not have to deal with Snape or Filch, and best of all he did not have to deal with Malfoy! Harry was probably milking it for all it is worth!'
The little messages that Dumbledore passed on from Harry were nothing compared to the letters he and his family wrote. In fact Dumbledore seemed to be reluctant to tell them Harry's responses. None of them seemed to coincide with the letters that he sent. Was Potter even reading them? Was Harry even sending the messages? Maybe the headmaster only gave the messages to make them feel better? 'Yes! And Potter's real messages were so awful that he felt we could not handle it! Potter is a git!'
After all of his thought processes Ron felt proud of himself that he could logically find out the truth. He was angry with Dumbledore to think he could not handle it.
Potter was a friend only when Ron was needed. Now that he thought about it Potter had completely ignored him ever since he defeated McGonagall's chess board. Then the thought crossed his mind, 'Harry is a Gryffindor, and we are always loyal ...but maybe it was an act? What if he was the one going after the stone the entire time?' He was in Gringotts minutes before the robbery, he even admitted it himself and wasn't he the one that ran towards the door in the forbidden corridor? He obviously cared nothing about our safety. The trap door itself is an other issue all together. Those traps were designed to keep adults away. How could he know we could get passed them? Maybe they weren't supposed to? And was he not the one that found the dead unicorn?
In Ronald Weasley's mind the facts added up to greater and greater treacheries.
In the end he came to only one conclusion and this conclusion frightened him a lot more than spiders.
Harry Potter was nothing but a slimy Slytherin.
...
'So you're saying that Albus Dumbledore actually had the Philosopher Stone in his possession? Nicolas Flamel's Philosopher Stone?' In which Harry emphatically nodded.
'He hid it inside the Mirror of Erised.'
'I met Flamel twenty years ago. Read their book before hand, interesting theories they conceived. It was wrong in several places but closer to the truth than wizards have come since the fall of the first dynasty of Egypt. My sire was one of the Ancients. He passed on much knowledge to me. I lost him to the sun when I was five. One night he did not return. I spent hours scrying for him before I scried for his remains. He should have been able to walk for days in direct sunlight without any trouble. It took me a week to reach them, having to secure myself up in thick foliage during the days. Two piles of crystallized ash and a woodsman's axe buried in the terrain between them. I found the murderer by a river bank not far away, dead. He had attempted to bandage a wound in his abdomen. By the looks of it he had been poisoned by his own body, and if that had not killed him the infection might have after the slow blood loss. Even in grief I did not wish that death on any man,' the vampire was quiet as he continued to examine a dragon egg, turning it with gentle care.
'You know Harry; I have never taken a life that was not either in mercy or a necessity. Most of my kind have respect for life,' and just like that the emotional moment passed. 'We were talking about Flamel? It is funny that you tell me that Dumbledore had the stone, to my knowledge only a threat of death would have separated the man and stone. He used to wear it in a pouch hanging around his neck. Wonder how the old man got it off him? I actually had Dark Arts lessons at Durmstrang from Dumbledore in nineteen twenties had class with his nephew, >Devon> I think. The professor left in my sixth year. He finally got the go ahead of his study of dragon blood. He even had the British government pay for his lab even. Still have no idea why, their net worth rival the Malfoys,' now he was handling a black egg with a scaly surface with a pair of thick dragon hide gloves that came up to his elbows. 'Manticore eggs are almost as deadly as full grown ones always handle with caution, oops!' The egg flew at Harry sneaker reflexes kicked in and he caught it. It took a moment for his eyes to open wide and the colour to drain from his face. He looked up to see a grinning vampire, 'Good thing that is a hydra egg, no?' The man with the odd sense of humour returned the egg to its nesting box. Harry felt the sudden need to bash his head against the wall because he knew that even though it would feel good bashing Damon's head against the wall would not knock any sense into that thick head of his.
Damon had then moved over to the next station after pulling off the dragon hide gloves. This one looked more interesting because instead of a half dozen large eggs of the previous two dozen stations, there were thousands of them set on different levels varying in size from the size of raindrops to the size of watermelons. 'All non-magical creatures can be stopped at any time from the time of conception to the time of death. It saves time and effort to 'lock' them at a point between a month and a day before hatching. These are the avian collection. As well as stopping their progression we can speed it up. Access to the temporal accelerator chamber or the 'Grow up' room that management calls it requires one of the senior goblins to open and close it. Every cell is fed, muscle sustained, appropriate synthetic environment to allow them to properly developed. Goblins are very clever beings but understand how to practical. They have no issues in hiring out to other races to create feasible projects. As long as a race can generate revenue they have no issues. There is an old goblin saying 'gold is gold no matter how you melt it.' In fact I think it might be what was written on Gringotts Foundation Stone.'
'It is an interesting approach to equality. What is that crystal rod?' Harry pointed to what looked like a long green quartz crystal that Damon was waving in front of the eggs. It suddenly turned red and Damon noted the column before continuing in moving in the same direction. 'This indicates any growth between now and the last time it was checked. I mark the columns that have changed then I check the rows. Technically speaking there should never be any growth, but you are in a warehouse that is filled with more magical creatures than will ever be identified by the ministry no spell here can be guarantied not even Avada.'
'What's Avada?' The wizard asked honestly.
The first response was for the other teen to drop the rod, 'Harry you have not been told about Avada Kedavra?'
'I think that was the one that Quirrell fired at me. Green light sound of an approaching wave sound right?' Harry was starting to get worried that he had said something wrong.
Damon's response was to bend down and pick up the fallen rod muttering something 'twice'?
'OK let me give you a bit of history. There was a time a millennia ago where dark was not synonymous with evil. In fact light and dark were nothing more than different types of magic. In general light magic dealt with the general flash and flair type of magic. You cast and the results were obvious essentially. Dark were the magics that are unseen, things that affected the mind, spirit, soul, or magic. Whose results could only be proved by firing counter charms at the suspect individual. Over time the definitions became warped, many charms of today in fact, by the original definitions, are truly dark in nature.'
The savoir of the wizarding world's curiosity had been peeked. He asked the first question that came to his mind, 'like which ones?'
'Cheering charm is dark by nature...' Damon paused hoping Harry could catch on.
'It affects the mind! But what does this have to do with Avada?'
'Sorry I kinda wandered off track. OK the darkest art possible of ancient times and modern as well probably is the magics that fall into the category of necromancy... Do you know what a necromancer is?' Damon tested the water that he was falling into that was the capacity of the boys mind. When all he got was a shake of his head in the negative he continued on, 'Necromancy is technically the art of raising and resting the dead. Whether to bring them back in their original body or to hold a conversation with a lost loved one. The best of necromancers had the ability to travel back and forth from the land of the "dead and soon to be born" and the land of the living. The ritual to do this anchors a person's soul and spirit to their body so as they may return with little trouble and no harm. The closing line of this ritual is Avada Kedavra. Currently it goes by the name of the Killing Curse, the curse that earned you the name The-boy-who-lived. Because of its very nature it is unblockable. Only a true necromancer can cast it on themselves and succeed for you have to sincerely wish the person to leave the living. How it can be cast on others is if it is out of mercy, or fear. If what you say is true then you should now be The-boy-who-lived-twice? Right? Defeater of You-Know-Who doing You-Know-What at You-Know-Where, quite a mouthful isn't it?' To which they both chuckled.
During the discussion Damon had figured out which shelf had the reticent egg that rejected the spells. Pulling out the shelf like a drawer. Starting at the front he started waving the rod over each of the chicken sized eggs not paying attention to Harry who had noticed an egg with a swirling red and orange metallic tint.
'Yesss, you aress good massster. We feelsss yousss,'
almost in a trance Harry reached out and brushed his fingers across the egg. 'Do yousss likess what you feelsss,' the egg purred.
'Yesss,' >Harry barely whispered almost instantly the egg turned to ash and a three headed baby snake crawled onto the back of his hand only for all three heads to sink their fangs into it. Though instead of pain there was a welcome.
Damon had yet to notice the new comer continued to move the crystal along the shelf. Now Damon is not oblivious, he is dedicated. He may be called a slacker but the goblins have yet to find a more capable worker in the sixty odd years he had been working for them. In fact Damon had refused several promotions claiming that he was happy where he was. Harry just happened to be the first person that Damon actually allowed to come with him on his rounds. Something about the kid had connected with him when they ran into each other. The hissing sound was ignored simply because with vampiric senses there always was a hissing sound.
But when Harry's arm all of sudden burst into flame there was no way that he could ignore it. His eyes travelled to the burnt out egg shell, 'Sweet Mother of Magic! Someone messed up the catalogue again! Harry are you all right?'
Harry hissed at his arm. Believing that he had a burn from the eggs combustion Damon turned Harry to face him only to be met with an annoyed serpent. An annoyed serpent with three heads ...that happened to be burning ...with wings ...did he just notice the fact that it was burning? One truth between fact and fiction, vampires do not agree with fires. Damon did what any sane being would in such a situation he backed away as quick as he could. In other words Damon was ten metres away before Harry could blink.
'He isss friend, relax,' Harry hissed at the little serpent.
This time the hissing was caught by Damon as well as the serpent coiling around Harry's arm.
Any wizard who saw the exact same thing would be frightened.
Please note that Damon ain't a wizard.
'Freaking Awesome! You're a parselmouth!' In which Damon returned to the drawer and retrieved the rod for the second time.
'A what?' Harry queried carefully.
'A parselmouth, you speak parseltongue, the language of snakes!' Damon tried to quickly finish his scan before removing the ceramic tray that contained the burnt remains of the shell. Tapping an edge caused a lid to appear and lock on.
'Harry I hate to break this to you but you are now officially a dark wizard...' Damon grinned as he shook his head.
'Why just because I can talk to snakes? I am sure lots of wizards can?!' Harry asked with hopeful tone.
'Actually only three recorded ones in the last century, Amon Marvolo Hecatious, his daughter Sylvia Ambrosia Hecatious and the Dark Lord Voldemort. All three confessed dark wizards, though the Hecatious line has been traced back to Greece before its fall, they were an upper-class pureblood family and they kept their activities strictly within the law. They never supported the various dark lords of the times so they were always considered nonentities. Regardless Grindelwald had taken offence to this. It was rumoured that he had off'ed the daughter then, shortly before his fall, the father.' By this time the pair had already walked out to the shop front and back to a new location.
Damon took the ceramic egg carrier and placed in a device that looked like an odd clock with crystals in several bits of its works. Noticing Harry's curiosity he started the simplest explanation. 'It tells me what your new familiar is. I know it has to be one of the hybrid projects, but which one I am not sure. Several of the creature people are not exactly sane in my account. Who would ever want a fire breathing fish?' At this point a quill started moving on its own over a piece of parchment.
After reading it Damon looked ready to spit fire and brimstone.
'So how much is he?' Harry asked with an amused look on his face. An angry vampire is a very dangerous being, only one worse is an angry hungry vampire. The growl added yet another warning sign. Yet Harry knew none of this was directed towards him and therefore there was little to fear. Instead of answering Damon huffed out of the analysis chamber Harry following him in the hope he could actually catch the explosion when it occurred.
Damon placed the blue sphere in and retrieved the gold sphere. This time he removed a red sphere from the front counter. The parchment remained in the young vampire's fist.
This time no claw emerged from the pedestal.
'Damon Sophos to speak with Managing Director of the Gringotts Consortium, Concerning the damn Frankensteins,' the young man whispered dangerously to no one apparent. Immediately there was a soft chime and the door opened a hair. The vampire pulled it open the rest of the way and directed Harry to enter first.
The differences in establishments were obvious. The office that Harry had entered was simply elegant. Marble floor to ceiling, a crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, book shelves lined the walls and a giant maple desk sat in the centre. Behind the desk was the oldest goblin that the young wizard had ever seen. 'Damon! What a pleasant surprise! Please tell me what monstrosity our two fold over budget development team has come up with on company time this time round?'
'Oh he was found in our avian frozen stock in hatchery four picked it up when I was looking for broken charms. I was halfway down the drawer when it hatched and bound itself to Mr. Potter before I even noticed.' Damon was almost formal in his speech. The director took a closer look at the young wizard, though oddly enough he did not look at where his scar should be but directly in the boy's eyes.
'You chose your friend well Damon,' the old goblin indicated for Damon to pass the parchment. The only response was for the director to pass the parchment to Harry who at this point was dying with curiosity. Unfortunately the parchment made little sense to the twelve year old"
Third/Fourth Generation Hybridization
Magical Serpent Runespoor
Magical Serpent Aitvaras
Magical Hybrid Golden Phoenix/Rainbow Serpent (Quetzalcoatl)
Magical Serpent Basilisk
Magical Hybrid Moke/ Peruvian Vipertooth (SBP 7 - Docile Miniaturization)
Magical Serpent Salamander
Magical Genetic Graph Primate Demiguise
Magical Genetic Graph Hybrid Thestral
Analysis
Genetically Stable
Fertile"
'Someone had to have used the time room,' the director said pointing to a book which Damon retrieved. 'According to this its last authorized usage was last year on a series of Siberian tigers.'
'Then someone has figured out how to get to them without authorization,' Damon stated bluntly. 'It wouldn't take much effort to figure out whom by following the resources. Once we got the team I can question each member of their activities. Considering the combination I would say dark elves. Maybe a Naga thrown in considering its success.'
'Mr. Potter, Gringotts values your families continued investment. The serpent is yours if you still want it. Damon I am sure would love to aid you in its care. Considering it might be quite complicated considering its unique compilation. If you two can excuse me it is time for me to initialize a surprise internal audit,' and that was how Harry's first meeting with the most influential mortal being on the planet went.
First question that might be raised in this chapter. Harry is twelve and at this point romantic relationships are not even on drawing board. The Harry, Damon relationship is more of a big brother deal
To those that actually read the garbage at the end of stories, name of familiar? At the moment I am leaning towards Anubis but that is not set in stone.
The next chapter should cover up to the sorting ceremony
If you have any complaints I have turned your floppy disk drive into a temporary suggestion box...
...yeah the smoke is supposed to be there. Remember the goblet of fire?