DISCLAIMER: I DONT OWN NOTHIN, ITS ALL SOMEONE ELSES
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
There were times in young Harry's life where he had to wonder, was he maybe cursed? Had he done something to anger whatever deity might be out there? He couldn't think of any other reason why he was suddenly being accosted by almost anyone that saw him. All of whom seemed to know his name and face far more intimately than he was comfortable with. Harry hated attention more than anything else. He would much rather be left alone and to his own devices, in all of his experiences in his short life, others only seemed to cause him undue problems. He was hoping this would be an outlier event and not the norm of his stay in the wizarding world. He had asked Professor Snape about it, but all he had received was a brief warning to not let his fame inflate his ego any more than it might already be. That response did tell him a few this though. One was that professor Snape seemed to hold some disdain for him, much like the Dursleys, and two that he was apparently well known for something?
What a blighter.
Although he was thankful that the man seemed to at least know where he was going and was helping him by keeping the people gawking at a distance. Apparently, his escort was well known enough to scare away some of the onlookers. As they were walking out of the tavern they had just arrived at, The Leaky Cauldron he noticed the sign had said, he couldn't help but notice a wall of wanted posters along the far wall. The peculiar thing about them was that half of the posters were all for the same person, and for a larger amount of money then he could imagine ever seeing in one moment.
"Professor Snape, who was Grindelwald?" Harry asked while looking at the large wall of posters. Staring back at him was a man perhaps just past middle-aged, but even the man's apparent age couldn't detract from his commanding stature even in a picture. He looked to be perhaps sixty or seventy years old. That's how old Mr. Maple up the street was, and the man in the picture looked to be of a similar age. The elderly man had a grim look on his face that never seemed to change even though the picture blinked. Perhaps that was what unsettled him looking at the picture, it was blinking at him. A single eye looked at him, the other obscured behind an eye-patch. A single white-rimmed iris set in an almost impassive scowl just below a head of slicked-back blonde hair.
Snape seemed to take a moment to debate if he should answer his question. In the end, it would appear that his duties as an educator won out and he began to speak. Severus began his lecture in an almost silky tone of someone accustomed to long speeches. "Gellert Grindelwald was a dark wizard that rose to power from the mid-nineteen twenty's up until nineteen-forty-five. During the years I believe you would call the world wars in the muggle world. He believed that wizardkind should rise up and subjugate the muggles. That wizards shouldn't hide from muggles, and he was willing to kill or destroy any number of muggles or wizards to achieve that goal. He's been on the run for the last fifty years. Hurry now, we're nearly at Gringotts. Touch nothing and be silent or I shall leave you to the goblins mercy."
Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know what kind of mercy goblins could show. He had of course never seen a goblin before, but he assumed that they wouldn't be too pleasant based on the muggle stories. Every story no matter how strange had a grain of truth in it somewhere, and the magical world around him was only reinforcing that belief. As they approached the large imposing building built out of what looked like marble he couldn't help but feel awed. The building was undoubtedly massive, and each pillar lining the outside seemed to be bent at an awkward angle. As they ascended the steps leading to the main door he noticed a plaque beside the door.
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.
Yes, Harry would most certainly be keeping his hands to himself. If the words weren't enough to deter him, the guards on either side of the door were more than enough. Goblins stood on either side of the door in full plate armor. In both hands, each goblin held a large battle-ax. Although the threatening sight was a little put off by the fact one was sharpening his ax with what appeared to be a bright pink handkerchief, and the other was asleep on his feet leaning on his ax As he followed Severus to the counter at the top of the hall he had to smother the urge to ask more questions. It was great they were at a bank, but he didn't have any money so what was he supposed to be doing?
He was pulled from his musings by Snape's drawl. "Vault Seven hundred and thirteen" he demanded of the goblin at the table. As if remembering he was there for the first time he glanced down at Harry and then back to the goblin. "And the potter trust vault here is the key." Harry watched Snape hand over a piece of parchment held closed with string, and a large metal key. The goblin at the desk, Ragnar his nameplate read, lifted a little metal bell and gave it a gentle ring after inspecting the key and handing it back but keeping the parchment. They soon found themselves ushered through a narrow corridor and onto what could only be described as a rickety mining cart. Harry desperately wanted to protest but the unhappy glare from Snape kept him quiet.
Soon they were flying down the track marking sharp turns for seemingly no reason, and going deeper and deeper in the tunnel they were descending. Eventually, the cart stopped abruptly and they were ushered off of the cart by the goblin. Before them was possibly the biggest door Harry had ever seen. Standing nearly thirty-five feet tall was a pair of giant metal doors engraved with some kind of symbols he wasn't familiar with, and the numbers seven, one, and three. After what looked like a lot of weird hand waving from the goblin escort the door swung open and Snape stalked away into the darkness of the chamber before them. Whatever he was getting, there sure was a lot of cloak and dagger going on in this trip. Whatever he was retrieving seemed to make Snape on edge, and that made Harry curious. Whatever it was must have been extremely important to either Snape or Hogwarts.
Soon Snape emerged from the vault, and almost as if he couldn't help himself, glared at Harry. How long was he going to keep doing that? Although from the man's sunny disposition and interactions with others Harry just assumed he hated everyone. Before long they stood in front of a much more reasonable sized door. After Snape handed over the key to the goblin, the doors were opened and Harry was ushered into the vault. It was more gold than he'd ever seen! Every inch of the floor was covered in piles of coins, most gold, some silver, and some bronze.
"Is this really all mine?" he couldn't help but sound awed. He was by no means ungrateful, he just wasn't used to actually having anything to call his own. He heard Snape behind him urge him on. "Yes boy, your mother set aside a sum of galleons for you to use for schooling and other needs while at Hogwarts. Now grab one of those bags from the cart and grab what you want so I can be done with you. I have other business in the alley." Harry wanted to ask what exactly a galleon was, but not wanting to bother with the man any more than necessary just assumed it was the money all around him.
Not needing any more incentive than that, he grabbed one of the black sacks from the cart. Of course, the goblin reminded him he would be charged two galleons for the bag, but Harry didn't care about that right now. He soon found that the bag could carry even more than he imagined would fit in it! After what he was sure would be a ludicrous amount of money for any eleven years old to be carrying he was ready to leave.
As they exited the bank he found a list of school supplies and his gold key being shoved roughly into his hand. Snape barked at him "Right in front of us is Madame Malkins for your school robes and garments, across the street is the apothecary where you can get your potion supplies, three stores down on your right you will find Flourish and Blott's for your books. Do not terry, get your supplies, and meet me back right there, at the Leaky Cauldron. I have other business to attend to."
Was this guy seriously just going to abandon him to find his own supplies!? At least he wouldn't have to deal with the man's unnecessary glares and attitude. With that he decided to take a small victory he could and turned and walked away without responding to the man. Independence was nothing new to Harry, and he was certainly capable of doing his own shopping. As he walked down the street he allowed himself to get lost in the bustle of the alley around him. Smiling parents, laughing children, people haggling at stalls, and unless he really was crazy, he was sure a giant was walking down the street ahead of him.
Deciding to step into Madame Malkin's and get a new wardrobe he entered the shop before him. The first thing he noticed was the overpowering aroma permeating the store. He was almost choked by the cloying scent of oranges and some kind of floral scent.
"Hogwarts, dear?" said a warm voice from behind a rack of clothes. Soon a stout but warm faced woman was ushering him back into a large room surrounded by racks of clothes as well as a few large mirrors and stools to stand on. In the room already was a boy a little taller than himself. He had the palest hair he had ever seen on a person before and a rather long and angled face.
"Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts too?".
"Yes," Harry replied quietly.
"It's my first year as well, these robes are all that's left for me to get then I'm all set. I think next I'm going to drag father off to look at Quidditch brooms. I don't see why first-years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'm sure he can convince them to let me keep it. My father is on the Board of Governors for Hogwarts.".
Harry was strongly reminded of Dudley, and he hated Dudley. Harry decided then that the best thing to do would be to not engage with the boy if he didn't have too.
"Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house Quidditch team, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?" the boy seemed to ramble on content to hear his own voice for now.
"No," said Harry, feeling out of depth not knowing what he was talking about. . "Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family has been – imagine being in Hufflepuff, a bunch of daft misfits my father says, I think I'd transfer schools, wouldn't you?" he didn't get to respond as the boy suddenly yelped and jumped off his stool. "Watch what you're doing you old hag!"
The woman smiled sweetly at him "Sorry dearie, hand slipped. You know with me being a daft misfit and all." Harry couldn't help it, he started laughing and nearly fell off of his stool. The boy started to rapidly redden and looked about ready to explode. Before he got the chance to the doors opened again and a tall regal-looking man with the same pale white hair stepped into the store. "Come Draco, we must be going." drawled the man.
The boy hopped down and threw Harry a disgusted look and quickly followed his father out of the store. Soon Harry was measured for his school robes and had inquired about some more casual wear as well. After purchasing three pairs of black trousers, three pairs of dark trousers blue, green, and red, several button-up shirts of varying colors, and two pairs of suspenders for the trousers and shirts. He got himself a pair of dragon hide boots as well as a pair of plain black dress shoes. Having never owned any real clothes of his own he was ecstatic to finally have some stuff that fit him, and most importantly were his and his alone.
After paying for his purchases and having the kind lady at the register shrink them down for easy carrying he set out for his next destination, the trunk store next door. As he walked into Tourings Trunks and Luggage Harry wondered just how a store survived selling only trunks? As he saw the rows upon the walls of trunks in different colors and sizes he found his curiosity peaked. He walked up to the man at the counter and waited to be noticed.
"Hello child, be needing a trunk? Hogwarts first year? Very well what color, what material would you prefer, and how many compartments?" rambled the man without waiting for an answer to any of his questions.
"What would you recommend?" asked Harry. "Well, we can enchant your trunk into basically any color. Most of our trunks can be made from any number of materials including dragon hide, maple, oak, elm, cherry, and some more exotic selections depending on what's available on the market. Compartments are rather simple and are exactly what it sounds like, and depending on enchantments the compartments can be rather large, certainly large enough for you to climb into or store any number of things. Finally, we offer a large assortment of enchantments for your trunk, including a stasis compartment to keep potion ingredients fresh as well as food, a featherweight charm to keep your trunk light no matter what, a durability enchantment to resist dirt or damage from the outside environment, and of course expansion charms on any number of compartments. You following me so far? Good, so what'll it be?"
"Can I just get a black trunk made of whatever you think is best, but I want 3 compartments and all of those enchantments on it. And is it possible to get one of the compartments expanded to be about as large as a bedroom?" Harry asked hopefully. With any luck, he could just retreat into his trunk when back with his relatives, and have a little piece of the magic world with him in the trunk. He was shocked at the price tag but figured he wouldn't be buying another of these anytime soon so might as well pay the little extra for what he wanted. After paying out the galleons and being told to come back in a few hours Harry decided the next stop would be the bookstore.
Now, this was his kind of store! Walking through the seemingly endless aisles of books was one of the few times in recent memory that Harry found himself actually happy. He began filling his trolley with all kinds of books from the wizarding world. Books on the history of the world as seen by wizards, books about Hogwarts, some wizard fiction books, books of spells, his per-requisite books, and disturbingly even a few books with his name on them seemingly about his adventures as a child. He didn't end up buying any of those.
As he was walking through the isles looking up at some of the books on the upper shelves, he was nearly taken off his feet by a sudden weight hitting him in the chest. Reacting without thinking Harry grabbed onto whatever hit him just as his back slammed into the shelf behind him and fell to the floor. After a brief moment of pain, Harry opened his eyes to find not a thing in his arms, but rather a small girl. Harry immediately felt awkward. Not at all used to any kind of close contact, hell he wasn't even allowed to have friends thanks to Dudley and his gang. She must have felt his unease because she suddenly scooted herself away until they were looking at each other from opposite sides of the aisle.
The first thing Harry noticed about her was her flaming red hair that cascaded around her face down past her shoulders; he'd never seen such vibrant red hair before. Next were the sharp green eyes that were, of course, glued to his forehead. To that damned scar, everyone was so fascinated by it. The most peculiar thing about the girl was that she was dressed in all muggle clothing. Something which he hadn't seen yet in his stroll through Diagon Alley. She wore just a pair of blue jeans, pink trainers, and a pink top with green flowers. The irony wasn't lost on him that this "strangely" dressed girl would have been the most normal by his own standards just yesterday. She was about his height, if not even smaller than him physically. Finally, she spoke.
"You're Harry Potter!" she almost yelled at him, her voice full of awe.
"I've been told," he responded dryly watching her across the aisle. She must have found this humorous since her face split into a grin that he was sure was enhanced by magic somehow.
"I'm Tracey Davis! I've heard so much about you! You're a hero! How did you do it? Are you like super powerful? Are you going to Hogwarts this year? Why are you so small? Are you going-" she seemed to realize she was rambling and stopped abruptly and began to blush. Now he was sure there some kind of magic involved, her face was almost the same color as her hair.
"Um, yes I'll be at Hogwarts this year." was his response to the barrage of questions. His voice seemed to snap her out of her reverie. "That's great! I will be too, ill be a first year. Are you excited for Hogwarts? I can't wait!" she was practically bouncing on the floor in excitement. Harry stood himself up and reached out a hand to help her up.
"So why were you running through the store like that?" he wondered aloud. She seemed to remember something very important judging from the startled "eep" she let out at having been reminded of something important. Faster then he imagined an eleven-year-old girl could move she suddenly pulled him into a hug and turned and ran away yelling over her shoulder back at him. "Sorry gotta run Daph and her dad are waiting for me outside. See you on the train!" and then she was gone. What a whirlwind that girl was. He sure hoped that not everyone his age would be so peculiar; he really didn't think he could handle having so much commotion around him all the time. And he felt weird being hugged by a girl he didn't even know. Physical contact was usually not a good thing for Harry.
After buying what was certainly more books than any other first-year he went to his penultimate stop, to pick up a pet. He wasn't sure he really wanted one but the school list said it was recommended for him to have one to deliver mail and packages. As he walked into Magical Menagerie he was assaulted by the foul stench of too many animals in too small a place.
A gruff voice growled behind him. "What ye looking fo?" Deciding he wanted to spend as little time here as possible he turned and answered the man, and held any questions he might have had for another time. "Something that flies, preferably something smart and fast." the man seemed to think for a moment then pointed to the back of his store. "Birds of prey are that way. If ye change your mind, snakes, kneazels, and toads are over here." After thanking the man he wandered into the back. Waiting for him in the small room were several of the aforementioned birds of prey. Several large brown owls, two large falcons, and the bird harry knew almost immediately that he would be leaving with.
Standing on a roost on the back wall was a large white raven. The bird stared back at him and cocked its large head at an angle as it regarded him with blood-red eyes. Harry couldn't help but feel like he was being evaluated by the bird. Walking slowly towards the bird Harry lifted his hand towards the bird. After not having his fingers bitten Harry took that as a good sign and reached forward to stroke the bird's plumage. As the bird seemed to lean into his touch Harry glanced down at the tag in front of his new familiar. While more than he thought a bird might cost, he wouldn't complain. It would be worth having the beautiful bird with him. He noticed the bird already seemed to have a name judging by the name tag. Rana was the raven's name. Harry would have to look into that later, he was sure there was meaning in the name.
After paying and leaving the store Harry made his way down to his final stop before going back to the Cauldron for lunch, Olivander's wand shop. As he entered the shop something strange occurred within young Harry. He felt as if he could feel the magic in this building. The feeling was like a warmth within him, starting in his center and spreading out towards his limbs and filling him with energy that seemed to thrum within his bones.
"How curious" he heard a voiced breath out behind him. Harry spun on his heel to see the man behind him. An old man was standing before him, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop. "Yes, you feel it don't you? Magic guiding you? Your mother was much the same when she walked into this very store. Well, don't stop on my account. Close your eyes and feel the magic around you, let it guide you." Deciding to follow along with the old man's words Harry closed his eyes and waited. It took only a moment before he felt like something was pulling him towards his right-hand side. He took a few steps and looked back to see the old man's eyes sharp and focused, but not on him. Instead, he was looking at the shelf of wands on his wall. The same ones he was now being pulled towards.
Closing his eyes again and feeling, Harry felt the pull again towards the shelf. As he got close the pull was stronger, until he felt something brush against his hand. Opening his eyes he realized he was standing before the shelf with a box in hand. He hadn't even felt himself move. Even more unsettling were the eyes of the old man. He hadn't moved from his place by the door, and he was still watching with those sharp eyes, but now his gaze was razor-sharp and focused on the box in his hands. "How curious" the man muttered while approaching Harry.
"This is no ordinary wand child. Eleven inches long, made of holly, and possessing a phoenix feather for its core. It is no ordinary wand young man because it is connected through its core to another wand. The phoenix that gave its feathers for use in wands only gave two. You hold one in your hand. The other, I still remember quite well. Yes, thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard Harry, and that yew wand is the one that gave you that" Olivander intoned while pointing one of his long slender fingers at the scar that adorned his brow. "I dare say we can expect great things from you young man. It would seem that magic has marked you for greatness. It is said that great wizards are marked early in their life by magic itself. Destiny awaits you, young man. But first, that'll be seven galleons." the old man seemed to be enjoying himself enough. Harry paid the man for his wand, and also purchased a small book on wand lore, and a wrist holster to carry his wand. Deciding it was about time to retrieve his trunk, pick up Rana, and head back to the Leaky.
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
Knockturn wasn't nearly as bad as the untrained wizard believed it to be. Really not all that much "dark" magic to be found. No the true magic of Knockturn alley lied in the information trade that was hosted below the surface. If something of importance happened in wizarding Britain someone in Knockturn would be selling that info in the next hour. This was where the old man spent most of his time now.
Waiting.
He knew something was on the horizon, and soon he would be ready to act again. It had been a long wait, but he had not been idle. He had amassed a group of followers much as he had before. He was strong again. Perhaps not at his peak, but he was still more than enough for any but the most powerful to oppose. Yes, something was on the horizon, and he would be there. Ready to shape the aftermath into something he could use. Something that would benefit the wizarding world, and he would do so with blood and magic if need be. He would not fail again. He had failed twice already. He had lost so much, but he could not stop now. Not when the world required him still. Destiny had placed its hand upon his shoulders and pushed. Magic had pulled him towards its very core. He could not fail them now.
If fulfilling his destiny meant having his fellow wizards turn their back on him then so be it. Glory had never mattered to him, only bettering this world that had been so cruel to him. If he had to be remembered as a "Dark Lord Grindelwald" then so be it. No child or wizard would ever suffer as he had. It had taken him nearly twelve years, and the majority of his fortune from The Great War, but he knew how to save the world. Destiny had reached its long fingers out and touched the world once again. Magic had touched another soul. Marked them for greatness. And if the rumblings he had worked so hard to uncover were to be believed, then Fate had spoken as well and there was a prophecy in effect.
Gellert would do as he always had. Ever since his fifth year at Durmstrung when his eyes had been opened to the world. He would work for the greater good. And if that meant he had to help a child then so be it. He had not taught any in a long time. He had been approached but had always rebuffed any who sought him out. If they survived anyway. He didn't plan to get directly involved, that might complicate things far too much. What he could do, however, would be to guide the boy from a distance. Help where he could. He had far too much of his own work to attend to, but he would help the boy destiny had chosen. He only hoped that his contact at the school was prepared for the coming storm.
Gellert prepared himself for what he knew would be the final stretch of his long journey. He knew he would not survive the coming storm, but that didn't bother him. He lived only in service of wizardkind, and he would die for it if need be. It hurt to admit, but he had no one, nothing left but his dream. He had done miracles, he had caused atrocities, all in the service of wizardkind. He would complete his self-appointed task, and then he would rest.