August 11th
"Run!" Harry yelled at his companion, pulling her by the wrist and into the cave, crouching behind a rock and barely escaping the dragonfire now scorching the ground they'd previously stood on.
"What do we do now?" Ivy asked, wide eyes darting around the darkened cave
"We need to-
Knock Knock Knock
"Hm?" Harry stops bouncing his legs on the edge of the bed and looks up from the book he'd been reading to see Mr Wright through the crack of his slightly open door.
"We're going out in thirty minutes" Harry nodded at the reminder and looked back down at the book as he heard the leaving footsteps get quieter outside the door.
There were books about him, he repeated in his mind, still not understanding it even after reading the past editions. Some were kids' books like the ones he'd read when he was little, with barely a phrase per page, but some like the one he was looking down at were full-on storybooks that made him seem like some sort of superhero like… like spider-man or something. But he was eight, and the most heroic thing he'd ever done was tell Dudley to stop when he went to beat up some other kid during recess, and even then he'd only done it once because Dudley went to beat him up instead until he hurt his head really bad, and had Harry tell the school nurse it was because he fell from the swing when it was too high. He didn't want Dudley to beat anyone up, but he didn't want to get beat up either. Not very heroic of him.
Sighing and putting the book face-down on the bed after he read the same line three times and didn't get it into his brain, Harry twisted and turned on the bed until his back was to the headboard, knees pulled up to his chest, suddenly feeling like he needed to take up less space.
He'd been so confused and jumpy the first few days, and then everything felt like a dream, like he wasn't really awake because it was so different that it couldn't really be happening. Then he learned about magic and his parents and maybe it was a nightmare for a bit, but at least he wasn't a freak anymore, he was a Wizard. There were thousands of people like him out there, and a whole school he'd get to go to once he was eleven… and they'd all know him. Or know of him, more like it.
Harry didn't like people knowing of him, because before it meant the Dursleys talked to them, and they'd look at him like he wasn't supposed to be there, and wanted him gone, or look so disappointed when he had no idea what to do to stop them from looking at him like that, especially the teachers or neighbours, and the lady in the public library who'd looked so angry at the torn up books - all Dudley's fault - and called him a brat and said not to come back again. So he really didn't want people knowing of him, even if it was a bit different with these people.
These were people that read about his parents being heroes in their history books, who maybe read their kid a bedtime story about Harry Potter, who decided it was a good idea to write about an eight-year-old kid swimming with merpeople and fighting dragons and being all these things Harry couldn't hope to be and piling up all these expectations he couldn't possibly live up to. He wasn't sure he could walk around this wizarding world, his parents' world, and deal with the number of people he would disappoint by being just Harry.
It made him a bit angry at Mr Wright, knowing he was the reason Harry now had so many things running through his head and making him nervous about the future, but then he got angry at himself because Mr Wright had done nothing but be incredibly nice since the moment they met. Mr Wright got him away from the Dursleys, and gave him a bedroom and clothes and new glasses and toys and books, he answered all the questions and let Harry sit on his lap to read like Dudley used to do with Aunt Petunia before he got too big, and he gave him a birthday party and gifts and even told Harry he didn't have to say thanks because that's what he should have had all along, but he didn't feel like that most of the time so he only nodded and pretended he didn't feel like every second since he stepped out of Privet Drive didn't feel like one of his dreams come true. Of course, it wasn't his parents that came for him, or the long-haired man or the beardy ones from his dreams, but someone had come. And being angry because this someone told him the truth would be unfair, and he didn't like unfairness.
Knock Knock Knock
"Harry?" Mr Wright peeked in once again, making him raise his head from his knees with a jolt "May I come in?"
"Mhm," he nodded, "are we leaving already?" he felt his body lock up slightly after the question and let out a slow breath to make it stop.
He can ask. He knows it. Sometimes it just takes a minute to remember.
"Not yet," Mr Wright stepped into the room, walking over to the bed "we don't have to go today if you're not up for it."
"I am!" Harry winced at the loudness and looked down at the bed "sorry. I wanna go, it's just-" his eyes drifted back to the cover of the book still open on the bed, with a little boy with a lightning scar and a blonde girl his age facing off a fire-breathing dragon with just a wand and their courage.
"It's a lot to take in, I suppose," Mr Wright nodded in understanding, sitting by the foot of the bed, "but no one needs to know, not yet anyway. They'll just see what we want them to see. We can even get you a pointed hat if you think Marie's makeup and your hair won't be enough to cover up the scar."
It pulled an almost smile out of him to think of the silly witch hat on his head.
"No, thank you" he answered, but didn't take his eyes off the book. "I don't want them to think I'm a character in a book though, I'm not- that."
"Oh, Harry, you don't need to worry about that," Mr Wright sounded a little scary, but somehow he didn't think it was a bad kind of scary "If I can't find a firm in the magical world to sue these writers and publishers for every penny made by misappropriating your likeness, I'll find a way to do it myself."
Harry somehow didn't doubt it, with the amount of wizarding law books he'd seen Mr Wright fly through in the past couple of days. He didn't really know what to say to that though, not used to being so easily protected by any grown-up in his life. Still, Mr Wright hadn't done anything to make him doubt his word, even if he didn't get why he'd do these things for him.
"I do think we should go before nighttime though, if you're sure you want to." Mr Wright reminded him and he nodded, moving from his curled-up position to stand up from the bed.
"I do" Harry insisted, slipping on his shoes "I wanna see the magic books and the flying brooms. And you said we're getting an owl."
"I did say that," Mr Wright smiled and stood up as well, leading the way out the door. Marie had already done her own kind of magic on his forehead earlier and made his scar almost invisible with her makeup tricks, so Harry had no reason to be so nervous. He didn't even think he looked much like the Harry in the books really, so thinking people would immediately know who he was might be a bit of a stretch to worry about.
The car ride took long enough for Harry to think about the magical world tutorial Mr Wright had given him after lunch, explaining how it would be a bit like visiting a different country even if they lived in the same space as people without magic. Not that Harry knew how it was to visit another country either. But there were customs and rules and things they needed to know and respect, at least that's what Mr Wright said. Some stuff wasn't even anything he'd use now, like never breaking someone's wand or giving it back point-first if you got it from them, or not using your wand to point at things or people, but some stuff was about greetings and bowing and things he didn't usually think about. Mr Wright did tell him to always bow back if someone bows to him, because of respect, and that it was a bit like a handshake, and to not call magical people by their first name unless they said it's okay. He also said not to touch anything he wasn't sure was safe, but Harry figured it was more because they didn't know what kind of magic it might have than because it was some sort of rule for everyone to follow.
Harry barely noticed they'd arrived until Mr Wright prompted him to get out of the car and took his hand to walk them to their destination. A hanging sign looking as old as the door in front of them told him the place was called Leaky Cauldron, and the people's curious looks once they walked in had him inching closer to Mr Wright as he talked to the man behind the counter. It didn't take long for the bald man to step out with them to the back of the pub and pull out a stick, poking the red brick wall a few times before moving back to where he'd come from.
"Welcome to Diagon Alley, Harry" Mr Wright whispered as the bricks folded over themselves up and to the sides to show the brightest coloured street he'd ever seen in his life.
"Wow" Harry can't help but let out in awe, eyes darting around to every corner of the street as they step into it, wanting to run off to stare through all the windows and glue himself to Mr Wright's legs because of the number of people around them at the same time.
Everything looked magical, even the bookshop had a duster moving on its own to clean the floating books by the window, like something out of The Sword in the Stone. The candy shop had so many different things it was hard to pick, even if Mr Wright said it was okay to take a lot and save for other days, and the flying brooms made him want to try them out so bad Mr Wright had to remind him they had somewhere to get to before exploring the alley.
Harry tried not to stare at the creatures bowing them through the doors of the bank, bowing back like Mr Wright had told him to do and huddling closer when a couple of goblins looked at them with interest. He lets himself be pulled to a counter and doesn't pay much attention while Mr Wright talks a goblin into taking them through one of the many doors he'd seen inside the building. Only when he's told to sit does Harry manage to stop looking around at everything - so much gold and white and interesting paintings - and pay attention to the conversation.
"We'll need nine drops of his blood in this vial," the goblin behind the desk tells them and Harry stares at the sharp knife he just pulled out of a drawer and placed on top of the desk, along with a vial like the ones he'd seen in the potions shop.
"Harry?" Mr Wright doesn't look happy with that, and Harry frowns before realizing why.
"It's fine," he shrugs. "Had worse than a little cut before."
"Shouldn't have" he hears Mr Wright mumble while picking up the knife and he holds out his hand. It takes almost no pressure for the skin to break, and Harry barely flinches at the sting, watching as the red droplets splatter into the bottom of the vial one at a time. At nine, Mr Wright hands the vial back and cleans the knife on the inside of his jacket before handing it back blood-free.
Bringing the bleeding finger up, Harry absentmindedly sucks it into his mouth as he watches the goblin bring out a large roll of paper as well as three more vials and mix his blood up with a few drops of the stuff on two of the vials and all of the liquid in the third, larger one. Even the paper looks magical, with scribbles in the borders that Harry has no idea about, but could be something like the runes he'd read about in one of the magic books.
The goblin then pours the whole final vial, with a reddish-brown-coloured liquid inside, onto the paper. Harry almost jumps back on the chair to avoid the wet mess, but somehow the liquid stays inside the borders of the paper, pooling up just before the symbols in the borders that look like they're glowing a bit if he looks a little closer. And just like magic, the liquid flattens out over the entire paper and then looks like it's sucked right in, leaving only lines in reddish brown behind, which Harry notices are actually words after a moment.
"Wow," he says again, and not even the goblin's showing pointy teeth keep him from standing up to read what the paper says.
Harry James Potter
son of
James Fleamont Potter and Lily Jocelyn Potter (née Evans)
Status: alive
Extant Vaults:
359
498
508
687
711
931
Accessible Vaults:
498
687
931
Last Bonded Keys:
Vault 931 - August 7th, 1980
Vault 498 - August 7th, 1980
Vault 687 - November 1st, 1981
Warded Magical Properties:
No. 8 upper Shrewsbury Street
No. 3 Godric's Hollow
Potter Manor
No. 12 Grimmauld Place
No. 18 Hogsmeade
Harry blinked at the sight of his parents' full names, he hadn't seen those in the history books, they got called The Potters a lot instead. Besides that, he was pretty clueless about the numbers and names on the rest of the paper, so he turned to look at Mr Wright, not quite sure what any of it meant for him.
"Well, first things first, Harry will need new vault keys, I'll cover any fees at the end," Mr Wright told the goblin, and they watched as said goblin rummaged through another drawer and drew out three golden keys, placing a few drops of one of the remaining liquids in the vials on each and watching as they glowed slightly one by one before returning to regular gold.
"Hand" The goblin held out his long fingers in Harry's direction and he stared for a second before realizing he was being talked to, but quickly took his finger out of his mouth and held out his hand to the goblin.
Reaching over the table, the goblin guided his cut finger to the first key, holding it there for a second until Harry flinched slightly in surprise at the little shock it caused him, but didn't move the hand. Two more little shocks later and he got to shove the three keys in his pockets, a little worried they'd fall out or get stolen, but he didn't want to point it out and interrupt Mr Wright's conversation with the goblin. He tried to pay attention instead.
"A more comprehensive list of assets in each available vault can be printed out, of course, and the properties wards have not been reinforced for a while, due to the lack of a valid signed contract." The goblin said, and Mr Wright nodded.
It took a few more minutes until they stood to leave, with Harry reaching his non-cut hand up to Mr Wright's before they left the safety of the private room.
"Here, child" The goblin walked to his side and held out his hand, with Harry holding out his own almost automatically after all he had to do for the keys.
"Oh" Harry stared at his finger, the cut completely healed once the goblin let go of his hand "Thank you"
The goblin only grunts in response and he and Mr Wright bow again before leaving the bank, stopping a few steps out of the building to look around the alley.
"So, where to now?" Mr Wright asked, and Harry hesitated before answering with a sheepish smile.
"...Can we go look at the brooms again?"