Harry Potter and the Old Magic
Chapter 1
15th June 2005
Harry slept, more soundly than ever before, quieter than previously, breathing slowing gently. Harry dreamed, sometimes short, sometimes long; dreams sometimes fascinating, sometimes boring. He eventually reached a level where time had little meaning, where visions came to the fore, where dreams ended and reality began.
A voice, old and scratchy, but understandable nonetheless, spoke from beyond the blackness that surrounded Harry, "so you're finally here. Good, we've been waiting for oh so long." The void lifted and Harry found himself in front of several people, some were elven in nature, some seemed human, some seemed more than human.
The foremost one spoke first, "our names are irrelevant for now, only that we exist in a realm beyond this. One which you must access; all will be explained then, but come you must, or all will be lost." Harry tried to call out, to ask them just what they meant, what he was meant to do, but the vision shifted before he could finish drawing breath.
His vision cleared, he was in Diagon Alley, facing Gringgotts. He saw a ripple of air, and saw himself removing his invisibility cloak, and walking into the bank. Harry followed his dream self as he walked down the line of tellers to a goblin that seemed somewhat familiar. There was a particular crease down the middle of his head that no other goblin he'd seen had, and heard a familiar name, "Griphook, good to see you again. I need to reach a particular vault. I cannot tell you its actual name, but it is the first of 10 vaults, the second of 5 lines, last accessed about 300 years ago." He saw Griphook's eyes widen before hurrying off. The vision closed.
Harry thought the visions were done and he'd be waking soon, but was proved wrong when the scene opened again, revealing himself again in Diagon Alley. In this, he watched several sub scenes of himself going into and leaving various shops. One was an amour shop, another was an Ollivanders' he'd never seen before at the back of the Alley, a bag store, among them. Harry blinked in confusion, wondering what he'd need there, when he came to the last sub-scene of himself looking over a list he couldn't see. The void filled his awareness again.
This time, Harry felt himself leaving the void, rather than the void moving. He slowly felt himself awakening, and emerged from his visions carefully. He opened his eyes, studying the little that filled his room, wondering exactly what he was supposed to do. Sighing, he decided that whatever he had to, he couldn't remember it all, so a list was required. He summoned parchment and quill, and set to work, starting with his first vision, the vault. He still didn't know what was in it, but somehow knew he'd know when he saw it.
The second was of course, Ollivanders' at the end of the Alley. Again, he decided to trust his instincts and fate. Then there was the bag shop, he thought he'd emerged with a smallish bag of some sort, but couldn't be sure. The amour shop he thought was self-explanatory, as he didn't believe he'd ever buy any amour apart from dragon hide. He suddenly realized he'd have just enough time to cook the breakfast, but vowed to get back to his list as soon as possible.
He got to the kitchen, and suddenly realized that he actually didn't have to cook. With his new magic authorization, he could just conjure the food! Grinning to himself, he set to it, starting with piles of waffles and pancakes, moving on to coffee, scones, and ending with a chilled turkey. The basis for conjuration was the imagination, making all this so easy, especially wandless…
Wandless! He hadn't even realized it! He'd been doing all this magic and stuff without his wand! He frowned, and waved his hand at a cup, imagining it turning into a tea pot; surprise surprise, it actually did, and exactly as Harry had imagined it! He frowned again, he didn't know enough about it, he'd have to get some books on the subject. Moving up the stairs slowly, he transfigured odds and ends along his way. The stair rail became rather ornate, made of wood with carvings of dragons and such, while the ceiling became sky blue from it's ordinary white, and grew sculptures of birds in flight along the walls.
Harry sat at his desk, which hadn't been there before, and added to his list with a brand new eagle feather quill: "books, from wherever." Harry leaned back in his newly made oak chair with red cushioning, and closed his eyes. Suddenly, he felt something tug on his magic. Focusing upon it, he felt something like a tracer, though he couldn't tell from where or to whom. All he knew was that it was preparing a report of some description, and that he didn't want it to go. A metaphorical stamp of the foot put it out of its misery, destroying but the tracer and its message.
Broadening his perspective, Harry found another tracer and several seals, with the same magical signature. Harry filed the signature away for future reference, and proceeded to disintegrate the seals and other charms placed on his with that magical signature. The last seal seemed to resist, as if whoever put it on his suddenly became aware of it, but Harry grew irritated and sent a magical backlash, similar to being punched in the gut, and disintegrated the last seal.
When Harry had started the disintegrations, Albus Dumbledore had just woken up, and wondered what he was going to have for breakfast. He felt several tugs on his magic, but brushed it off, trusting that the wards around his home would keep out any intrusions he didn't want. It was only when Harry began on the last seal that the headmaster realized that it was not a magical intrusion but rather magic being returned to him. And there was only one at the moment who would do that. Focusing on the last foothold he had in his weapon, Albus Dumbledore fought to preserve himself, but was thrown both physically and mentally by the backlash Harry sent, and felt the last seal disintegrate and the magic return to him.
Albus sighed, this could mean several things, but then it was entirely possible that Voldemort had found some way to breach the blood wards surrounding his weapon. He immediately sounded the alarm on the Order, calling for an emergency meeting. He wanted his weapon secure.
Outside Privet Drive, Nymphadora Tonks had just received the summons, and was preparing to leave, when she noticed someone staring at her and waving. Harry stuck his head out his window and called her over, convincing her to get into his room. She was immediately struck by how lavish it all seemed. Last she'd checked, it had been pretty small, with bare necessities. Now it was large, a suite just about, large bed, ornate objects everywhere. She gasped.
Harry gazed at Tonks, this time she was exactly average. A week ago she'd been every male's wet dream and the week before that she'd been a shy, lost 8 year old. He decided to draw her out of the line of thinking she was in, "Tonks, what you're seeing is a manifestation of my wizard puberty. I asked you here to tell you that I know more than I should, and that if Albus has anything to say about it just be prepared. We can talk again later; you'd best be going."
Tonks nodded and activated her portkey, the full meaning of what he'd said not quite reaching her. Harry watched her depart; catching the last bit of thought absently, what a lucky chap Remus was, he thought. Harry proceeded to pack his trunk magically, leaving a conjuration of him that would sleep most of the time. He stacked his important possessions: his books, robes, money bag, broom, photo album, and other presents he'd received over the years. Shrinking and pocketing them, he pulled on his invisibility cloak and exited the house.
Outside, Harry tried another experiment. Eyes closed, he pulled his magic around him, forming a bubble of sorts, which he imagined hurtling at unimaginable speeds to the Leaky Cauldron. Opening his eyes, he found he wasn't at the Leaky Cauldron at all. Instead, his subconscious seemed to have done more than just stand by, and taken him to the start of Diagon Alley. Grinning to himself, Harry tapped the brick with his wand.
Inside, Harry ducked into a side alley and changed his appearance. To anyone else, he'd be James Evan, 5'7", blue eyes and sandy colored hair. Harry grinned as he set off to Madam Malkins. He bought robes and normal clothes that actually fit, and had a sales girl named Monica add a fitting charm that would allow for up to half a foot of growth any way. Battle robes they didn't do, but Harry decided it probably didn't matter. He had several ordinary robes made of heavy silk, one of which he planned to have inlaid with dragon hide. He then had 3 cloaks, of green, blue, and yellow, the green he planned to have inlaid with protective material as well.
He continued down the Alley, coming to the bag shop. The old man stared him in the eye for a time, and smiled. Well James, I have just the thing for you. I was commissioned over a decade and a half ago to make a particular bag. I have no idea what he wanted it for, but it has various wizard, goblin, and elvish protective charms on it as well as a heavy shrinkage charm. Your father already paid for it, so you should just take it. If you ever need anything else, don't hesitate to come back."
Harry was unnerved by the man, but had sensed something about the man that said he wasn't quite what he seemed. He wasn't a death eater, that was for sure, but he didn't seem completely human either. Harry frowned and looked at the bag. It was not over large like a trunk, but wasn't small like a purse either. It looked about the size of an average book bag, black in color, and had a metal bit on it, presumably to identify the owner. On closer inspection, Harry gasped, the name "POTTER" was inscribed on it.
Now Harry knew for sure that the shop keeper wasn't even supposed to be there. His entire demenour was strange, so dream-like. Harry sighed, at least his identity and movements weren't going to be exposed. He continued on to the amour shop, where a man with blond hair emerged, shoving past Harry. In retaliation, Harry tripped the man just as he passed. Angrily, the stranger turned around, his hood whipping off his head, and unleashed a strange bright blue spell at him.
Harry raised a sandy eyebrow and dodged the curse, which blew a small crater in the cobblestone behind. Harry flicked his fingers and sent off several strong redactor curses at Luscious Malfoy, who managed to block several, but had a chunk of leg removed and his wand arm broken. Further angered that several outsiders were starting to recognize him, he reached into his robes with his other hand and portkeyed away.
Harry sighed, he didn't want to reveal his abilities just yet, but Malfoy had experience to fill in where his actual magical power wouldn't hold, making him an actually dangerous opponent. He sighed again and entered the amour store.
The man inside may have been related to Hagrid if he hadn't had brown hair where Hagrid's was black. He was friendly and had no complaints (why would he?) when Harry ordered a full suit of dragon hide amour from a mix of iron belly and ridgeback. His eyebrows rose slightly when Harry asked that he also provide a substantial amount of dragon blood but didn't protest. Harry then paid even more to have his robe and cloak inlaid with dragon hide, this time from a horntail. After that, Harry shook hands with the large man and left him a substantial sum to keep quiet about his purchases.
Harry's final stop, the strange Ollivanders', was queer. For one thing, the entire street of people seemed to disappear, and it was just him alone. For another, there were many shops around, but all were closed. Shaking his head, Harry found the shop, and walked in.
The creepier Ollivanders' couldn't have been stranger. In the wand shop there had been loads and loads of wand boxes, a desk, writing materials, and an old man. In this one, there were long pieces of wood of different colors, lengths, and cross-section shapes on one side, the opposite side hosted materials of so many kinds that Harry didn't know where to start! The back wall continued much of the material selections, and a door that seemed to lead to the back.
The middle of the room was bare, but there seemed to be shimmering slides depending on how Harry looked at them. He studied them for a while, but the lack of human presence eventually got to him and he spoke loudly, "Hello? Is anyone here?"
The back door opened, and the familiar figure of Octavius Ollivander entered and studied Harry carefully, "Harry Potter, I had a feeling you'd be coming in here at some point or other. I though the headmaster would be bringing you here though? No matter, you're here and that's all that matters.
"Now Mr Potter, please stretch your arms out to the sides, and stand up straight." The wand maker measured Harry's arm span, height, finger to foot, shoe length, and began looking at the bits of wood, absently speaking, "I'm not just a wand maker Mr Potter, for the longest time the house of Ollivander made Staves, one of my ancestors made Merlin's staff. Staves were outlawed long ago by the ministry because they were believed to give a person far too much power, such as a muggle suddenly doing magic, using the staff's magic."
Harry noticed the measuring tape taking the lengths of more private areas, and brushed it off, Ollivander seemed unconcerned, "historically however, Staves were made for people either with to little magical potential to be of significant use, or for people with too much power for an ordinary wand to channel. Of course, there are wand cores that can channel significantly more power than normal cores, like Voldemort's new core, but Staves are always far more useful.
"Back to the present though, you were a singularly difficult person to match, and staff matching is even harder. Fortunately, I've simplified it somewhat. I think one of these should suit you. Try them out, wave them around or something while I look at cores and gems." Harry picked up several large sticks one at a time, not feeling anything in particular for them. Till he came to a Mahogany piece, that seemed to sing in his hand; Harry put that aside and continued.
Oaken and Birch branches responded beautifully in their own ways and Harry set those aside. He looked up for the magical craftsman, and found him standing in front of him, wide eyed at the 3 branches, "Well Mr Potter, it's a good thing I simplified the process, I'd never have put those together. Now, any of these cores should be alright, try them out while I look through tops."
Harry blinked, surprised at the selection. There were feathers, scales, horns, fangs, body parts, and others. Eye twitching, he started picking up the strange things.
