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"Harry, I'm not going to stop you, but are you sure about this?" Dr Luke Reynolds asked his adopted son, concerned at the idea of Harry going to a boarding school, a boarding school with magic and wands and something which required... dragonhide gloves - did that mean that dragons existed in this world Harry was to be a part of, because that certainly didn't sound safe to the young (ish) doctor.

Harry nodded slowly. "I think if I don't do this I won't ever forgive myself, besides, I think I have to do it anyway, I need to be able to control my magic so we don't have a repeat of what happened at that school - though the way that boy squealed was quite funny." Harry laughed, smiling at the memory of when the bully got what he deserved. "This explains everything. It explains me. Plus," Harry paused before cracking into a huge smile, "It's magic! That's so cool!" He said, his tone switching between the formal explanation and the more childish, juvenile one.

The boy had had to grow up so soon, but in the Reynolds house the childish side of him, the prankster, and the joker - a happy boy with a stable and happy home - was able to flourish. Harry looked towards his father, silently asking for his acceptance, - he knew this was a huge deal, especially to a doctor, a scientist, like Luke Reynolds but the older man simply nodded once causing Harry to burst into a smile and ran to embrace his adopted father.

"Are you ready Mr Reynolds?" A stern voice asked him, cutting through the family moment, the owner of that voice belonging to Professor Minerva McGonagall - an actual witch! who had actual magic! which Harry also had! - Harry looked down at his clothes, some dirty football shorts and a t-shirt with mud on.

Harry gestured to the stairs whilst saying, "Can I get changed first?" McGonagall turned a disapproving glance at the sight of Harry's clothing, before nodding abruptly allowing Harry to sprint up the stairs into his bedroom.

Harry quickly threw on a t-shirt and his nicest pair of jeans (the ones without holes in or grass stains from when he'd played football in them). He then walked over to the mirror, trying to mould his mass of blonde hair into something which resembled neat - not that he stood a chance, no matter what colour is hair was one thing stayed the same... it was always a mess!

Before the coma he'd had a thick mop of black hair, but - for reasons unknown to Harry - when he'd woken up it was blonde. Then his eyes, the startling blue contacts covering the emerald green eyes. He knew he got those emerald green eyes from his "drunken mother" his aunt had told him that much, but he didn't want the eyes of the woman who drove whilst drunk and left him alone with his abusive relatives, he had no respect for Lily Potter.

He liked looking in the mirror and seeing a new him. One who didn't resemble the "freak" who'd lived in a cupboard under the stairs. One who closer resembled his adopted father Luke, the only parental figure he'd ever had that actually cared about him, loved him, treated him like a son. He liked looking like a Reynolds, he liked not looking like Harry Potter. Nothing about Harry Potter was good. Harry Potter only represented the worst period of his life. The abuse. The coma.

He still had scars on his body, on his face from his time at the Dursleys, but he'd learnt to hide them, to cover them up. He'd learnt from his time at the Dursleys how to cover up the bruises he was given before he went to school, and he applied that skill to hide any reminder or symbol of his past life.

No. He didn't want to be Harry Potter anymore - and he hadn't for a long time. He liked being Harry Reynolds. And he liked that his appearance reflected that.

Harry slipped in one last attempt to smoothen down his hair, an attempt which obviously failed before going back downstairs, hurdling down the stairs in his excitement as he thought about what was about to happen. His father stood from his chair, his tea besides him - cold -, forgotten in the chaos of the afternoon. Unseen by Harry the older man wore a cautious expression on his face, fear and doubt in his eyes as he wondered how his son would adapt to this new world - how good boarding school would actually be for his mental health, and for his physical health.

One of the main reasons Luke had been able to get guardianship, and then adopt Harry, so easily was his position as a physician. His ability to take care of Harry, a patient whose permanent effects of the coma weren't completely known. Harry was somewhat of a medical marvel. The boy took a small amount of medicine, and vitamins, but other than that he seemed to display no symptoms common to somebody who'd been in a coma for 2/3 years. He'd recovered almost impossibly quickly.

Perhaps, Luke realised now, this was due to the magic he had. Perhaps Harry's status as a wizard was the reason that he was a "medical marvel" - a "miracle". He shook himself out of his thoughts as he saw an expectant Minerva McGonagall staring in his direction, as an eager Harry went to put his shoes on.

Luke grabbed his wallet and a coat, throwing it on him as he braced himself for the cool English summer - even in the summer England wasn't a "hot" country, with nice weather, though today was better than most. It was cool, slightly overcast and certainly not summer, but perfectly acceptable weather for a trip to a magical town, which McGonagall had informed him was called "Diagon Alley".

Luke had no idea how an entire wizarding world had been hid so well, and how he'd be able to find some of the items listed ("wand", "dragonhide gloves") in the letter. Followed by a slightly impatient McGonagall, the three left the house, Harry excitedly hurrying the two adults along.

As they weaved through the streets of a bustling London, Harry pulled out the letter from his pocket, opening it up to scan the list of books and other things he needed for school:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Uniform:

First years will require: Three sets of plain work robes (black), one plain pointed hat (black) for day wear, one pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar), one winter cloak (black/silver fastenings. Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags.

Course Books, all students should have a copy of each of the following: The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk, A History of Magic, by Bathilda Bagshot, Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling, A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric, Switch One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore, Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander and The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection y Quentin Trimble

Other Equipment: 1 Wand, 1 Cauldron (Pewter, standard size 2), 1 set of glass or crystal phials, 1 telescope set, 1 brass scales.

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

"Broomsticks!" Harry said incredulously, "Why would you want broomsticks?"

"To fly, Mr Reynolds, to fly." She replied bluntly, sounding nonchalant at the concept of flying as they turned a corner into a dark road with flickering overhead lighting. The red brick walls were graffitied and most of the bustling London crowds looking for school clothes and stationary in preparation for the new year attempted to avoid the "dodgy" road. There was one pub, a large sign for it reading: The Leaky Cauldron.

"Where are we going?" Dr Reynolds asked, suspicious of why a teacher should be leading an eleven year old down a street like this and starting to wonder if this could somehow be one huge prank, or perhaps something even more sinister.

"Don't you see it?" Harry asked his adopted father, looking towards him as though he'd missed something obvious.

"See what?" Luke Reynolds replied curiously, his eyes looking around the street, but he couldn't see anything of note.

"The Leaky Cauldron, the Pub," Harry grabbed Luke's hand and pointed it in the direction of the Pub, causing Luke to look incredulously up at the pub sign, the Doctor blinked rapidly, shook his head then resumed looking incredulously.

"That, that was not there a second ago." He exclaimed enthralled.

"Its always been there, but muggles don't see it, its charmed so their eyes look over it, they 'miss' it." Luke nodded then stopped.

"Muggles, that sounds like an offensive word, be that it is or isn't." He looked at McGonagall harshly.

"It means non-magicals, -" She was interrupted here by Luke Reynolds.

"Yes I prefer that word for it if you don't mind." McGonagall looked at him flustered.

"I apologise if you take offence to that word." She told him, her burrowed forehead still showing that she was a little confused.

"Thank you, now shall we go on." The doctor gestured forwards and Harry smiled happily before tugging his adopted father along. The three stepped inside the Leaky Cauldron, a big spacious room with amber lighting and stone arches. A seemingly friendly barman waved at them, "Hello Professor, you got some new students?".

"Just the one today Tom," McGonagall replied, a short smile on her face as she began to stride through the pub purposefully, clearly trying to show that she was there for business, and didn't want any unnecessary reactions. Harry, dragging Luke along, quickly followed, Harry running slightly to keep up as they made their way to a back door which seemed to lead to a small garden type area - which really seemed to be more of a trash area then a garden.

McGonagall walked over to the wall, a trash can resting against it, she pointed to a brick and told him, "See, three blocks up and two across from the brick with the hole in," She took a step back, gesturing for them to do the same, she then tapped the wall three times with her wand. The brick in question, almost seemed as if it was moving - no, it was definitely moving - and the others were around were too. The bricks all separated to form a parting in the wall, creating a huge arch.

Tentatively Harry followed McGonagall onto a twisting cobbled street, Luke joining them after he shook himself out of his stupor. The father and son looked over their shoulders, as a creaking noise sounded from behind them, watching as the bricks merged back together before their eyes, almost as if it had never opened to begin with.

"Welcome, to Diagon Alley," Minerva smiled slightly at Harry and Luke's amazement, then Harry really took in what was around him. turning round to the sight of a long cobbled street, bustling with people in top hats and cloaks. The sun shone brightly now, almost as if the weather itself had changed from one street in London to another. Harry's eyes flickered around the alley, unsure of what to focus on before they rested on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop "Cauldrons - All Sizes - Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver - Self-Stirring - Collapsible" read a sign hanging over the shop entrance way.

"You'll need one of those, but you need to convert some money, and get your share from the Hogwarts trust fund first." Minerva informed Harry as she saw what he was looking at.

As Minerva and Luke entered some discussion, Harry almost wished he was a spider, with eight eyes so he could look at everything at once: the shops with intriguing and colourful signs; the people doing their shopping; the plump woman outside an Apothecary complaining about the price of Dragon Livers; the hooting from the Eeylops Owl Emporium.

Several boys around Harry's age had their faces squished up against the window of a shop - "Look!" Harry heard one of them say, "It's the new Nimbus Two Thousand - the fastest ever-". There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver and copper instruments Harry had never seen before. Windows were stacked high with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, at least that's what the labels said they were - before today Harry had no idea what a bats spleen looked like, and to be honest he wasn't sure he ever really wanted to know. In a cosy looking bookshop of sorts there were tottering piles of spell books, precariously placed on top of each other, quills and rolls and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon...

"This is Gringotts, the wizarding bank." McGonagall informed them, focussing Harry's gaze on the snowy white building in front of him. It had huge yet crooked quartz columns, (ones which Harry was sure he'd appreciate much more with a better understanding of architecture), and an almost majestic feel to it, reminding Harry of the Roman temples (or were they Greek?) he had been studying in history.

"That is one of the employees." McGonagall said in a hushed voice, her eyes pointing towards a small creature, with a large crooked smirk (one which didn't look too pleasant) and a pointed beard, with long spidery fingers and feet. "A goblin." Harry and Luke turned to each other surprised, but neither said anything, as they did not want to offend the small creature. They walked up the quartz steps, the goblin bowing (in what almost seemed like a mocking manner) as they walked through the large, arched doorway, words engraved in cursive writing on them:

"Enter, stranger, but take heed, of what awaits the sin of greed, For those who take, but do not earn, Must pay most dearly in their turn. So if you seek beneath our floors, A treasure that was never yours, Thief, you have been warned, beware of finding more than treasure there."

"Gringotts is one of the most safest places in the country, that is why we wizards and witches put so much trust in it, it has never been stolen from." McGonagall told them as they passed through into a huge marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a very long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, and weighing coins, gold, silver and bronze on oversized brass scales, examining precious stones like rubies and emeralds through eyeglasses. There were many doors - too many to count - leading off from the hall, and goblins kept showing people in and out of these. The three made their way to the counter, approaching a goblin.

"Good day to you." He said a slightly strained smile on his face as he continued his task of greeting arrogant wizards who treated him like vermin.

"Good day to you too sir," Luke replied causing both Minerva's eyebrows, and the goblin's to raise, neither used to such politeness towards a goblin. Luke continued - clearly not caring at the surprised expressions on McGonagall and the goblin's face, or maybe he just didn't pick up on it - "We would like to convert some money, and also run an inheritance test on Harry to see whether he has any past links to the wizarding world. I adopted him and we do not know much about his birth parents. If possible we would like these tests to be run in private, away from prying, nosy eyes." Luke asked the goblin respectfully. The goblin nodded and jumped out of his chair.

"I'll return shortly with someone who can help you with that." He told them before walking away, past a door and out of sight. Harry's eyes scanned the hall, greedily taking in all the sights, a blonde boy and his father stood near an angry looking goblin, as two more goblins conversed amongst each other. Looking up he noted the ceiling. A huge chandelier cast light across the room and above it was a glass-domed ceiling.

"This is Laknor, he will assist you." The first goblin said, sitting back on his seats as another goblin appeared from behind him.

"Follow me." Laknor a gravelly voice gesturing at Luke and Harry but not Minerva. "You know how the tests go Professor, they must be done privately, family only.." Minerva nodded and made her way to the waiting area taking a seat as the father and son followed the goblin through one of the many doors.

The two followed the goblin down a corridor, and through an office door, the goblin took a seat behind the desk after getting some files out of a cabinet, and a small knife. He took Harry's hand and made a small cut in it, then let the blood drop onto the parchment. Harry winced but didn't say a word, he just watched in fascination as the goblin cast some sort of spell over it. Laknor waited a few minutes before he turned to Harry and Luke with a clear surprised expression on his face.

"Mr Harry Potter." He glanced over Harry, looking at him speculatively whilst glancing between Harry and the parchment before him, as if double-checking, and then triple-checking the results. The goblin laughed - not a pleasant, amicable laugh, but a grating, superior, snide laugh. "Don't worry. We goblins keep these matters to ourselves. We pride ourselves in our discretion Mr Potter." The goblin told him, much to Harry and Luke's joint confusion.

"You Mr Potter are, of course heir of the Potter house and as such you are also heir of the Peverell house. Interestingly you are also heir to Gryffindor, I suppose your family haven't had the need for an inheritance test before now as this is a previously unclaimed title." He told them and Harry and Luke's confusion only grew.

"Isn't Gryffindor one of the Hogwarts' houses?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Named after one of the founders, Godric Gryffindor, it is indeed." Laknor told them. "You are also heir to Slytherin house, another of the founders, by rights of conquest, and are also in - but not heir of - the house of Evans. That is a matriarchal house, you therefore couldn't inherit it as the heir must be female."

Harry nodded. "What does this mean?"

Laknor sighed, as if he was disappointed with Harry's lack of knowledge. "Currently not so much. The Potter house is quite prevalent in modern society, and the Peverell name also holds some sway. This means in the future you will have access to seats on the Wizengamot - the magical equivalent to muggle parliament - and both households are very profitable to the goblin nation."

"Profitable to the goblin nation?" Harry asked, each explanation only seemed to cause his confusion to grow.

"Rich, Mr Potter. Rich." Laknor explained bluntly.

"Oh." Harry replied shocked, - nothing about Harry had ever been rich, he'd had hand-me-downs from Dudley all his life, and on most days he only ate one meal, he'd been practically a slave since he could walk and didn't even have his own room for the first seven years of his life - and then the next two years of his life his room had been a hospital bed, and all this time, he'd been rich? He could barely believe it, and judging by the shock present on Luke's face, the doctor couldn't either.

"The Gryffindor and Slytherin titles are more interesting." Laknor began, clearly not giving any regards to Harry and Luke's surprise and disbelief, instead being matter-of-fact, as if he was trying to get this meeting over as quickly as he could - efficiency seemed to be a primary objective for the goblins.

"There is less money in the vaults," Laknor continued, "But more material wealth in the form of heirlooms and other magical objects as well as diaries and such from the original founders. However there is not much point discussing this further until you're legally emancipated, and are able to access these vaults. For now you have access to a Potter trust vault which will be more than enough money to cover Hogwarts' expenses and buy necessary materials. Do you wish to see your vaults?" Laknor asked.

Harry glanced back to Luke, who nodded despite how unsure and confused he looked, and Harry turned back to the goblin.

"Yes please."