Harry huffed and puffed as he ran through Diagon Alley. The last time he remembered running like this was a few short months ago, trying to desperately get away from Dudley and his gaggle of evil followers. If its one thing that Harry knows he's good at is running for his young life.
This time he was running away from the half giant by the name of Hagrid. Now he seemed alright when he first met him. Introducing him to the magical world and giving him the first birthday cake he's ever had, buying Hedwig for him but it seemed to be a ruse of sorts. He knew something was off about the whole magical world situation when he realized that the U.K.'s magical counterparts seemed to be stuck in the former half of the 19th century in terms of fashion sense, sociocultural prerogatives, and education.
He was temporarily blinded by the well magic of it all. Stone walls that were portals to magic steam trains that traveled to unplottable magical castles with enchanted ceilings and other magical people as well to top it all off. He spent the first month at Hogwarts in a daze, full of pumpkin juice and savory meals, looking out on the Black Lake high in the clouds of Rowena Ravenclaw's house of the witty and creative. Long conversations with Goldstein and Su Li at the common rooms table. Debates with the clever Patil twin in the Great Hall feasting on candies and desserts. Weekly office visits with his House Leader and the schools resident Charms professor and Master who was half goblin of all things!
3 months had passed and the Hols creeped up quickly enough, he had already determined he would spend the Hols at Hogwarts. It was a quiet Monday and he sat for lunch, readying himself for the debates that were not uncommon at the Ravenclaw table. Debate was a sharpening of a knife. A hammering of a piece of armor. Chiseling of granite stone into a form more pleasing. Debate was soft war that readied future Ravenclaw graduates for many positions that required wit unequaled and creativity not found easily with people that weren't fortunate enough to have the experience even 1st year Ravenclaws gathered quickly.
But as things usually are when it came to him, his luck dipped and things turned awry.
He received an owl. Now for a magical child who spends the majority of the year in the magical world this wouldn't be weird. But he was no regular magical child. He was Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived (when others died is the quiet part), son of war heroes and unfortunately a celebrity for such a feat. His only living relatives were his mother's sister who was not only not magic but in fact hated everything even the slightest bit fantastical and her big fat piggy in a wiggy son Dudley, son of a larger big fat piggy in a wiggy Vernon Dursley. So, frankly it was odd. Now he had always been a keen and curious child, something the Dursley's couldn't abuse out of him. According to many of the professors here his mother was very intelligent and excelled in Charms, Ancient Runes and Arithmancy while being exceptional in all the other subjects and his father was a prodigy of sorts in Transfigurations. It seems his genetics had set him up well in the thinking department. He much like his parents, was exceptionally talented in magic as well.
His inborn talent was neither here nor there. What was important was the letter that plopped into his delicious apple and cream oatmeal. His peers paid it no mind as it wasn't uncommon to get letters and he knew that they wouldn't pry so he didn't see a reason to go and read his very first magic letter, not counting his Hogwarts invitation letter, elsewhere. And as he slowly peeled the letter from its very fancy envelope home with a wax crest of some type of bird, maybe an eagle he wondered mildly; it was nearing the anniversary of his living and his parents dying horrifically. It would make sense the more morbid people would send letters to get answers or more questions being as he didn't remember a thing except for his mother's wails, the Dark Lords cackling like a comic book villain, the green light of the Killing Curse and the subsequent pain of having his soul almost torn from his physical being.
That wasn't what the letter was nor was it any other reasonable thing he could've thought up. It was a portkey.
He straight up went pop right out of the Great Hall to the great shock of everyone. Because portkeys weren't supposed to work without the express permission of the Headmaster or his second in command. Or so it is commonly thought. However, a member of the Board of Governors could allow such permissions. It wasn't a well known allowance since the board was simply an oversight board and a go to for the school and the Wizengamot when it came to academia and finances.
Speaking of shock, Albus Dumbledore went straight war general and ordered a lockdown and flashed away. Or so he was told. Now it is completely understandable why his sudden disappearance caused pandemonium, 1st years don't oft up and go pop without a trace, especially not important little wankers like him who lived despite the shocking amount of people who didn't in his circumstances. But he didn't go pop to some dank cave or macabre dungeon of some dark wizard kiddy diddler. Oh no, nothing so distasteful. He went pop right into the of Account Manager WitBlod of the Goblin Nation.
And boy did Mister WitBlod have a lot to say. He was all,
"Why haven't you be responding to us!"
And of course he was innocent of anything he was being accused of and how rude it was for this goblin to kidnap and accuse him of anything without so much as a how do you do! So he replied as righteously indignant as any accused 11 year old would by screaming bloody murder and repeating unintelligibly that he was innocent and,
"Didn't do nuffin'!"
After AM WitBlod realized how crazy this all could be construed he quickly gained control of the situation by snatching him up and stuffing a potion down his unwilling throat that sent him to sleep faster than any muggle sleep aid.
He was out for at least an hour because when he awoke he was met by WitBlod, one misses Katlyn Bimbly and a very angry Auror who looked to be a descendant of Gryffindor himself by the name of Scrimgeour. Seeing other humans calmed him considerably because this obviously wasn't what he thought it was and he may have overreacted. But as he set his crooked glasses into a less crooked position and caught a glimpse of an empty potion bottle on the massive stone desk he figured maybe he hadn't.
The conversation that followed was in no way pleasant overall. Yes, he did get some pivotal information about his paternal family like them being part of the Sacred 28 and made up a portion of it called the Welsh delegation and the vast amount of wealth he was the sole heir to. Vast incomprehensible wealth he could have never ever dreamed of in a billion years. The other stuff was not… good. Like how he was supposed to immediately meet with WitBlod to set up his accounts since the last time any real work was done was when his father's father, a man named Charlus Potter was alive, and since he was maybe the one of the top 3 wealthiest people in magical Britain currently, the goblins took his lack of management a bit more seriously. And because they couldn't get in contact with him after Hagrid failed to tell him that he was supposed to be escorted to Witblod after getting money from his school account and the lack of communications thereafter… well his AM got creative.
His creativity almost caused another incident but because everything was done legally or it was at the very least not codified to be illegal (yet) the wizards could do nothing explicit. He was told that Dumbledore was ready to knock Gringotts over if they didn't release him. Now, at first it warmed him that the Headmaster was so caring but that was quickly replaced with suspicion. Yes, he was a student at his school but to threaten violence with the Goblins to ensure his well-being was not a normal reaction for one orphaned half-blood muggle raised boy unrelated to him. He was no expert but from what he has gathered, Goblins and Wizards had an uneasy peace and planet's worth of prejudice and animosity towards each other. Threatening war was excessive for someone who was simply his Headmaster.
WitBlod while faced with the Head Auror of the DMLE and a well known powerful combatant and the liaison of the Governor who signed off on the port key who wishes to remain anonymous, couldn't info dump all that he wanted on him he very cleverly dropped small but impactful bombs. Like Dumbledore being his magical guardian instead of his head of house while in the magical world or how Hagrid knowingly kept him from meeting with him, his wealth and position in this new magical society and his parent being very active and close to one Albus Dumbledore and his "little group of vigilantes" in the last war against Britains Dark Lord. Scrimgeour was no joke and rallied to the challenge of blood and war every time he felt WitBlod talked out of bounds of Wizard issues and Katlyn was there to make sure WitBlod did not expose who the Governor who gave permission was and that no harm came to him as per the portkey agreement.
Harry even found out that his full name was Hendry Jameson Balloch Potter. It seems his parents kept to the wizarding tradition of long and private names for their one and only son and child, and Harry was literally his nickname and that it was common for people in the Wizarding world to not disclose their full names or go by nicknames. Albus Dumbledore felt no need to do the same. People knowing his full birth name was an obvious flex of his power and position. A wizard who did not fear people knowing his full name was a powerful wizard indeed.
Such a powerful influential wizard had a more than basic interest in him. When he finally ended up signing the contract his family had signed for at least a thousand years and getting his Heir Apparent ring with the sigil of House Potter splayed for all to see, Katlyn wished him well with a grimace and promptly portkeyed out of dodge while Scrimgeour frog hopped him out of the office of his AM to where the Minister of Magic, Head of the DMLE, Headmaster and Supreme Mugwump, Deputy Headmistress, Ravenclaws Head of House, Keeper of the Grounds and the Chief of the Goblin Nation of Britannia all waited in the lobby for him to surface. Once the Deputy Headmistress laid eyes on him, she wailed his name with more emotion that he thought her physically capable. It seemed to have flipped a switch because an argument of such gigantic proportions with some political, social and magical heavy hitters erupted like Mount Vesuvius.
Accusations and outright cusses flew back and forth. The only people who weren't actively going for the jugular were one weeping Hagrid and a much too calm Flitwick. The Chief of this sect of the Goblin empire (known formally as The Goblin Nation of Gringotts of Brittania) was foaming at the mouth because the wizards escalated and Cornelius Fudge foamed right back and accused him and Dumbledore of politically sabotaging him. The Head of the DMLE called all three men useless sacks of flesh and demanded she be allowed a full investigation because,
"If Harry Potter can just go poof in broad daylight during lunch then no one's safe! Bet you're feeling foolish for cutting my funding now Fudge!"
Dumbledore candidly refused to apologize to anyone about anything because the Goblins DID kidnap him and he had every right to be upset about it as his Headmaster and guardian. Scrimgeour taunted everyone and was obviously a man best fit for fighting or starting and finishing them. While scary as this debacle was, it made him privy to more information than most 11 year olds were currently on the state of many things. But what he sorely wanted to know was why Hagrid didn't simply allow him to see his AM. It would have solved any issues before they arose. And when he turned his attentions from the fighting towards the half giant he thought his friend and generally harmless and shouted over the bickering;
"Hagrid! Why didn't you just let me speak to WitBlod?"
The man bumbled and replied without a second thought,
"Dumbledore told me…" Dumbledore seemed to be the magic words because the ire of everyone immediately shifted to the Leader of the Light.
Scheming. Bastard. Nefarious. Demented. Arsehole. Idiot. All titles the gathered crowd deemed fitting for the now solemn looking Headmaster. This little tidbit wouldn't have sent him over the edge until Hagrid, who realized that everyone must've been taking things the wrong way because the great Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was a saint who was most certainly not a lying, scheming, conniving idiotic bastard spoke up once more.
Harry was one thousand percent sure that Dumbledore wished he hadn't.
"Well evry' one jus hold up a minute. Dumbledore is a good man who had good reasons I'm sure ov' it! Just like he knew leavin' lil ol Arry' with the Dursley's was the best he coulda done! He even sent me instead oh Mcgonagall to show Arry' the ropes so he wouldn't be put off!"
If looks could kill Dumbledore would have killed Hagrid then and there with his blank bottomless glare. Everyone else just gaped in horror and he gaped with them before the maniacal cackling of Chief HarmGood Gringott snapped him out of his stupor and he did what he's always done best and beat feet out of there. No one was quick enough or the people who were quick enough weren't near enough to respond to his flight of shock and terror. It took just less than two minutes to run through Gringotts front doors and out into the mostly empty alley. He did not register the shouts of Harry and the shuffling of feet to catch up to him. All he knew was he needed to get away from these people and figure things out.
And the best way to do that was away from the magical world. He used to plan on running away often and had some ill formed plans but now with money and magic he could at the very least stay hidden for a little bit while he sorted through everything. Going back to the Dursley's currently was out of the question. They'd give him up in a second. In fact, Little Whinging was not on the board. His clever little brain didn't take long to come to a viable conclusion. He needed to stay and disappear in London. London was a large city and he was muggle raised so blending in won't be a problem as well as information gathering if need be. The magical people of the Isles were very ill informed and out of date on everything not magical and he would use it to his express advantage.
He slid into the dingy pub which served as an entrance into the magical side of things and slipped out just as quickly. He was very happy to be as fleet footed as he was on this very confusing terrible day. Once on the other side he stopped to catch his breath and gather his bearings. He didn't know much about London, but he remembered the train station and train stations always had maps and he remembered that the zoo Dudley attended for his birthday wasn't far from Big Ben. Two points of interest he could travel to and from with some familiarity. Kids 12 and under rode the tube for free so getting around on public transportation should not be an issue. He just needed to figure out shelter and food and go from there for the next few days. A simple plan was one not easily foiled. With these things in mind he took off for the tube in a light jog.
Good thing he had because Tom the barkeep and Scrimgeour burst through the door just 2 mins after looking for the runaway Boy-Who-Lived, wheezing and cussing.
Things had only just begun to pick up for Harry and the Wizarding U.K.