Chapter Twelve: Resettling
Back in my own time, in my own world, I continued to train my body. I may have lost the age I had gained in Narnia, but my strength, my training and my scars had all come back with me. Hiding the scars on my face was difficult in that first year, before Vernon lost control and I was able to drop the draining glamour and claim the scars came from his loss. He didn't even question it the sudden appearance of scars since he couldn't recall the true extent of the damage he'd done in his rage.
Having seen what I could do, I refused to be weak when I re-entered the wizarding world. I may not have memorized or completely integrated the memories I received from Tom - preferring to simple compartmentalise the information and look to it for information if I needed it – but I knew enough to know that Tom's army wouldn't have fallen with his 'death' nor would he be gone for good. And Dumbledore, the man who had separated me from my parents, would also be a threat waiting in the darkness.
I needed to be able to protect myself.
So that I didn't lose the skill that I had gained with my blades, and to ensure that the difference in body size wouldn't cause issues, I carved branches into the shape of my daggers and swords, and practised using them. Since I didn't have an actual partner to fight against, I imagined shadow opponents which had a similar effect when it came to practising form just without the resistance of another's blades. After a little while I was able to commandeer supplies from the school and make a bow with it in order to practise my aim as I got used to a body that was once again aging. Much to my own distaste, I would have to go through puberty again and my memory wouldn't let me forget anything about it.
Being back in my own world was very trying on my magic. It was denser, harder to control and manipulate outside of my body. I could still use it internally as easily as I had done before so I could still heal myself and enhance my muscles. Just pulling the magic so that it changed the appearance of my skin had been difficult in those first months of my return before I got used to it. It took nearly three years to figure out how to consistently use the magic outside my body to levitate increasingly heavier things, manipulate water and conjure lights.
From Aslan, Tom and my own memories I knew that there were other magicals in this world. And I also knew that the only way I would be able to study this magic properly would be once I went to Diagon Alley – something I was currently unable to do. Instead, while studying the knowledge from Tom's memories (never advancing in theoretical knowledge until I could once again succeed in the practical) I hit the non-magical library. I studied legends and myths about magic from across the globe, comparing what I found with what Tom had learnt. I was surprised that a lot of the knowledge I gained in this manner echoed with truth.
Outside of learning magic and once more training my body, I also ensured that my normal studies didn't fall behind. With the help of the library's computers, and the ability to ask other libraries for books, I continued studying law, psychology, sociology and history in depth. I also looked into other subjects, but those were the ones I focused on the most since I felt that they would be the biggest help in the future – especially since I planned on remaining in the wizarding world once I was allowed to return to it.
Life at the Dursley's had both gotten easier and more difficult. Vernon was still an abusive asshole, and without actual weapons I didn't have the physical strength to stop him. But I'd managed to talk Petunia into allowing me two full meals a day and three sets of descent cloths to wear. This meant that I was no longer suffering from severe malnutrition, and I no longer looked like the neighbourhood trouble maker or street rat. By the time I was ten, I'd gained enough strength and speed that I was able to deter Dudley and his gang from picking on me.
Finally, five days before my eleventh birthday, my Hogwart's letter arrived. Having secreted away some paper for the purpose of a reply, I was ready.
Dear Deputy Headmistress McGonagall
I would like to thank you for contacting me in regards to my place at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizard, and will gladly accept my place in this coming term.
I have been living with my non-magical aunt for the past ten years, and she is unaware of the exact location to Diagon Alley. I was wondering if it would be possible for you to send me directions on how to access the alley from the non-magical side so that I may go and retrieve my school things.
With regards,
Harrison James Potter
Once the Dursleys had eaten their breakfast, I was able to leave the house and attach the letter to the owl that was waiting for my reply. The magic in the owls meant that they could tell when they would be needed for a reply, and when the home-owner had their own owls' capable of taking a reply. If the owl hadn't waited, then I would have been unable to reply to the acceptance letter and I would have been forced to wait and hope that James Potter came to re-introduce me to the wizarding world as he had said he would.
The next day, I received a response from Professor McGonagall.
Mr H. Potter
Diagon Alley can be accessed via the Leakey Cauldron on Charing Cross road London. I have included a map, highlighting the root from the closest Underground station. If you would like an escort to collect your wizarding items, please do not hesitate to send me an owl and I will make time for you.
I hope, Mr Potter, that it is not too personal of a question as to ask why it is your mother and father, Lady Lily and Lord James Potter are not escorting you to collect your school things? Or why it is you are not living with your family? I have been aware for quite some time, of course, that you were not living with your mother and father since there was a rather famous falling out between your father and your godfather, Sirius Black, when he refused to give up your location.
I have not revealed your location to your godfather; however, the man is very worried about you and wishes to meet you. He has spent the last ten years doing everything in his power to locate you, only failing because James Potter still holds authority over you as your father and Head of House, even if he is not currently your physical guardian. If you would like to meet him, I can inform him of your location or you can send him an owl. A letter addressed to Sirius Black, defence professor at Hogwarts, will reach him.
Please let me know what you decided,
Professor M. McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress,
Head of House Gryffindor
I was both sadden and pleased to learn that Sirius had spent all these years looking for me, that he hadn't given up hope. But I sent a note back to McGonagall thanking her for the information about Sirius, and telling her that I would reach out on my own and would appreciate it if she kept my current residence from their knowledge. I didn't need Sirius storming Privet Drive until I had a better hold on the situation. Especially if James Potter was actually planning on taking me back into his home – I didn't want to be the cause of a Blood Feud.
Stealing the money that I needed to get a bus, and then a train into London, was easy since the Dursley's didn't keep track of the designated 'emergency' money which was located in a draw in the kitchen. Over the years I had been taking a small amount out each week which was then hidden in my cupboard in the event that I ever needed it. It was this money, plus an extra fifty, which I stored on my person in the event that I couldn't access any money at Gringotts.
I managed to get the bus without question, and passed mostly unnoticed at the train station. Despite my small stature, I knew how to act and walk like I knew what I was doing which gave the impression that I was either used to doing this trip, or older than I actually was. Fortunately, the second-hand clothes Petunia had gotten from a local charity shop weren't tarnished and actually fit my person. The train guard shot me a suspicious look, but let it pass when I showed him my train ticket.
Once in London, it was a simple matter of following the map provided by McGonagall in order to reach the Leakey Cauldron. Since I'd decided to leave early, and managed to reach the pub by nine, it wasn't busy when I entered. There was a couple of unsavoury sorts at the bar and a couple of patrons having breakfast, but it wasn't crowded and I passed through to the brick wall unnoticed.
It took a few moments of pulling on Tom's memories to find which brick I needed to tap with a small pulse of magic, in order to open the passageway.
Diagon Alley was very different from the memories that Tom had from when he was eleven. A lot of the shops that had been there where no longer present, replaced or simple closed. Walking towards Gringotts, the big white building that had remained the same for centuries past and would likely remain the same for centuries to come, I took note of the shops and alleyways. Once I determined my financial situation, I would come back and map out Diagon Alley and the other alleys in the area.
Stepping into Gringotts, I quickly looked around to get an assessment of the situation. There were ten stations along each side of the open hall, but only three on the right side, and one on the left side had Goblin's tending them. Between the fifth and sixth stand on each side was a grander station which was set back by one step. Only the left-hand station had a goblin monitoring it, although I noticed that this goblin seemed to be dressed in a finer quality of golden armour. Since it was so early in the morning there weren't many patrons present, although there was enough that a small line had formed in front of the left-hand station and two of the right-hand goblins. The third goblin on the right only had two people waiting to be seen. There was a finally dressed person, who was clearly of wealth, standing and sneering at the goblin in the set back station. From what I could see, that teller was clearly taking his time in responding to the wizard's request.
I decided to get in line for the teller on the right with the smallest number of people to see. I decided not to see the more import looking teller on the left despite him only seeing the one person since I didn't know what purpose that teller served and I didn't wish to insult him with my request. When the goblin finished serving the person in front of me, he started writing in the ledger on his desk, so I politely waited half a step back. Since the Teller was writing in the ledger in front of him, I figured it was only right for me to wait until the goblin was finished and I was acknowledged. I wouldn't want to be interrupted in the middle of a task, and so I would treat my fellow Being with the same respect that I would expect.
"What do you want?" The Teller demanded after a minute, looking up so he could glare over his desk at what he perceived to be a child.
"I wish to take an inheritance test and then speak with the manager of my accounts." I identified my business, not offended. During the time I'd been an advisor in Narnia, I had gotten used to the different customs of the Beings. The dwarfs for example, where typically short and blunt with their words since they preferred being in their forges or mines then making conversation.
The goblin stared at me with hard eyes for a long moment before barking in his native tongue, which cause a second goblin to step forward from where they had been stood standing guard at one of the many doors leading through the room. The Teller said something in their guttural, harsh language which had the second goblin turning to me.
"You will follow me." The second goblin ordered, turning sharply on his heal and marching back towards the door he had been guarding. I didn't hesitate to fall into step behind the goblin, making sure to stand half a step to the left so I wasn't directly behind the goblin, since it was quite clear that these Beings were of a warrior race and it was never a good idea to stand directly behind a warrior since they were typically paranoid.
I was led through several winding corridors and into a small office which had filling cabinets covering every wall. There was a goblin, visible between the two large stacks of parchments on his desk, scrolling at me after the one who had guided me there left the room without a word.
"What do you want?" The goblin snapped.
"I need an inheritance, which has the dual purpose of proving my identity and seeing what I might have access to within the bank. The rest of my business needs to be conducted with my account manager, for I know that my family has one." I explained formally.
"It's five galleons for the test." The goblin grunted opening a draw in his desk in order to pull out a potion vial and a long piece of parchment.
"I've only got non-magical money on my person, will that work, or would you prefer to take the money from the vault's that will be confirmed as belonging to my family?" I questioned, taking a seat opposite the goblin instead of remaining hovering.
"Money up front. We accept the paper money for conversion. That's £30." The goblin requested.
I dug around in the 'wallet' I had on my person and pulled out three, ten-pound notes to hand to the goblin. Fortunately, I had stolen quiet a bit of money from the Dursley's over the years, because this was already quite expensive and I hadn't really done anything yet.
"Cut your finger and drop seven drops into the potion." The goblin took the money before pushing a dagger and the potion across the desk.
I accepted the dagger and cut the pad off my thumb before holding it over the vial and allowing the blood to fall. As each drop hit the top of the potion, it turned the top from a purple to a more yellowy colour. With the seven drops in the vial, the goblin took it back and stoppered it before shaking it – turning the entire potion yellow.
Once the potion had completely mixed with my blood, the goblin poured it over the parchment which greedily absorbed the moisture. It took a few seconds, but blood red writing started spawling across the parchment. Once writing stopped appearing, it was snatched by the goblin.
"Interesting," The goblin hummed as he scanned the parchment. "Why is it, Mr Potter, that you've come here without your father?"
"Because Lord Potter abandoned me, and I do not consider him my father. I would appreciate discretion in this matter, Master Goblin." I accepted the parchment of results from the goblin.
Name: Harrison James Potter
Age: 10 years, 10months, 29days
Father: Lord James Charlus Potter
Mother: Lady Lily Rondeletia Potter nee Evens
Siblings: Charlie Danial Potter (10y/10m/29d), Rose Dora Potter (3y/10m/2d)
Godfather: Lord Sirius Orion Black
Godfather: Lord Frank Christopher Jasper Longbottom
Godmother: Lady Alice Marie Longbottom nee Spinnet
Heir: House Black
Secondary heir: Potter
Trust vault: #678
"I have alerted your Account Manager that you wish to see him. The guard will escort you." The goblin dismissed me when he saw that I had finished reading the results of the test.
"Thank you." I bowed my head politely, folding the parchment so it was easier to carry.
Stepping outside of the goblin's office, the guard on the left immediately began walking. Getting the idea, I silently followed behind him. Even if the goblin would have accepted an attempt at conversation, I don't think I could have pulled it off right now. I had a little sister! It hadn't even occurred to me that my parents might have another child. A little sister who had been born two months after my journey to Narnia.
Edited 11/04/2022