Early January 2006
A smirking Harry Potter strode out of a door usually not visible on the seventh floor of Hogwarts Castle. It was eight-AM, just in time for breakfast. At the end of his second year, it had been part of an interrogation of Dobby that he had found out about the ingenious 'Come and Go Room'. Naturally, he decided to exploit it. And the fact that the Sorting Hat had given him Gryffindor's sword had encouraged him to learn as much about swordplay as possible.
So nearly every day since, two-and-a-half years, he had gone in at five-thirty for an two-and-a-half hours in the morning and another two hours in the evening practising magic and swordplay. Unfortunately, he'd refrained from pulling the sword from an expanded pocket and sticking Peter Pettigrew with it. Next time he wouldn't make that mistake.
However, for the last few weeks, that hadn't been his project. Shifting his glasses from his face, Harry rubbed his eyes slightly, glad he'd found a potion to correct his eyesight. Around the rims of the spectacles were carved hundreds of runes. After seeing a head-up display in a video about a fighter aircraft while at the Dursleys, he'd decided to create something similar. This one however had the magical equivalent of a hard-drive packed into a rune containing a database of every ward, rune and charm recorded in the Hogwarts Library and from any of the bookshops in Britain that he'd bought from, including a number in Knockturn Alley.
As he walked around, pale green lines came up and a mental command quickly evaluated one of them. A stone-reinforcing charm, something fairly expected. Hogwarts was saturated in magic. It was before dawn and with Umbridge's little squad of toadies running around, he couldn't think of a better venue to test out a few things he'd wanted to do.
Harry was lounging outside of one of the passageways out of the castle that he was certain the toad's toadies used for smuggling, and as he had been doing for around two weeks, layered dozens of spells over it. He was just about to finish with a curse-trigger when he heard shuffling coming down the corridor. Two sets of feet. Something dragging.
Flitting into an alcove, he drew his wand in a lightning-fast movement as his other hand fell to the knife he always kept tucked into the back of his waistband.
"Potter." spat one of the two female Slytherins who had spotted his movement.
Deciding that the game was up, Harry detached himself from the shadows and stepped forward, his wand lowered but still drawn in a show of caution.
"Miss Greengrass, Miss Davis." he greeted them politely with his politician's fake smile, knowing that both would see through it in a heartbeat; "I must admit not expecting to see either of you out here... carrying your trunks around like muggles."
"And we didn't expect to see Gryffindor's Golden Boy around at this hour." said the ice-cold beauty, Daphne Greengrass.
"Just trying to see how long it'll take me to drive the Albino Ferret to a nervous breakdown." Harry shrugged, layering a couple of additional curses onto the tunnel after a moment of thought.
Both raising eyebrows as wisps of magic in various colours issued from his wand, adding to a white spider-web of magic which appeared around the exit, Tracy Davis commented with a small smirk;
"Two days should do it. He came in a couple of hours ago with a Hand of Glory stuck up his backside and through the seam of his trousers."
Harry smirked slightly;
"So pray tell where and why you're running away?" he asked.
"And have you turn us over to Dumbledore?" hissed Greengrass.
"Not on my life. Dumbledore holds about as much of my trust as Lucius Malfoy speaks the truth." Harry replied.
"It's getting heated in the viper pit. Daphne and I are neutrals, greys in the political battles of light and dark. Of course being female there are those that want us..." said Davis.
"And your sister Miss Greengrass?"
"She's a bit of a sycophant, not an extremist purist, but wants to marry into a nice pureblood family, have a handful of pureblood children and look good on someone's arm." Greengrass sneered; "We just want out."
"So, where are you going, how are you getting there?" he continued asking, noting their slightly embarrassed glances at each-other; "Ah, you have no plan at all. How long could you survive in the snake's den?"
"A week." replied Davis; "After that we'd either have to submit to the dark factions or being forcibly used by them. Our families aren't exactly supporting. Halfblood bastard daughter of a noble house and the wildcard heiress of a grey family leaning towards the purist factions."
"Give me three days, maybe two and I could have you out of here and untraceable." said Harry, his hand twitching towards his knife at the mention of rape.
"What's in it for you?" demanded Greengrass.
"What makes you think I'm in it for something, after all I'm Dumbledore's heroic Gryffindor Golden Boy?" he replied, sneering at the title.
"Pull the other one, you're about as much of a Golden Boy as Draco Malfoy is an advocate of racial tolerance." she sniffed.
"Yeah." Harry chuckled, conjuring himself a chair; "Well, this is a bit of a story." he sighed for a moment, conjuring two more chairs and using a wind charm to push the two girls into them; "I must admit I've never really told anyone about this, but we all know Albus 'I am your favourite grandfather' Dumbledore is fond of manipulating people. Nicholas Flamel apparently gave Dumbledore his stone to protect. Six-hundred years and I'm certain he's never had it stolen before, yet Dumbledore gets it. He then hides it behind a Cerberus, some Devil's Snare, a room full of flying keys, a giant chess set, a troll, some fires with a flame-freezing potion and a class ten cursed object."
"There were rumours about this." Davis nodded.
"Yep, of course the overgrown bat, Snape, swooping around bullying everyone and the fact that Hermione saw him jinxing my broom when he was in fact using a counter-curse led us to believe he was after the stone. We got past the Cerberus by playing it to sleep, we set the Devil's Snare on fire. Then came the keys, and in that room were several brooms. Got past that, Ron played through the chess set, the troll was already knocked out and the potion was one of a number, some of which were harmless, some of which were poison. A logic puzzle told us which one it was. Notice a pattern, if we'd brought Neville along, he'd have specialised in the Herbology test, then flying, Ron and I are good at. Chess is Ron's speciality, the troll we could have knocked out after we dealt with the one on Halloween. Then the logic puzzle suited Hermione and he'd enchanted the cursed mirror to only give the stone to someone who didn't want to use it." Harry continued; "See the pattern, wanting a nice pure-of-heart champion of the light."
"Hang-on, Dumbledore said that he had driven the troll back." frowned Davis.
"When Dumbledore says anything, be prepared for it to be him manipulating you." Harry rolled his eyes; "Anyway, when did he say that, I don't remember."
"None of Gryffindor were there, apparently you were in your tower." replied Greengrass.
"Typical. No, I being an utter moron at the time jumped on its back and stuck my wand up its nose before casting the strongest flame spell I knew at the same moment as Ron levitated its own club on its head." he shook his head; "Anyway, second year, Chamber of Secrets crisis. Dumbledore was around for the last opening, he knew it was Moaning Myrtle who died, so why didn't he interrogate her for what happened to her. When a couple of second years could work out that it was a basilisk running around and manage to find it and kill it, that's saying something about the adults around here."
"Dumbledore claimed he'd dealt with the basilisk and that was why he'd left the school!" Davis exclaimed.
"Let me guess, while I was in the hospital wing?" Harry asked rhetorically; "Then he makes no effort to get my innocent godfather a trial and lets a man impersonating his old friend Alastor Moody into the school to enter me into a contest that have killed far more skilled wizards. You get the picture. Then this year.
After a few moments of silence, Greengrass stated astutely;
"You want out as well."
"I hadn't exactly planned it, but when you decided to do this, I rather thought why hadn't I left already." Harry replied; "Anyway, go back to your dorms, I'll contact you. Pack only necessities. Your wand, a few changes of clothes, sentimental items like jewellery, leave books and assorted rubbish here. If possible pack it into one trunk, it'll be easier to get out that way."
"Why should we trust you?" asked Greengrass with not quite as much heat.
"Let's see, you were heading down a well-known passage with no plan of escape except to leave. I think less of why you should trust me but how getting out with me benefits you." he answered coldly; "You have no reason to trust me, but I don't care, as I see it, you have a few options, escape with me, escape alone and fail, escape to your families who will turn you over to the dark factions, stay here and submit to the dark factions or stay here, don't submit and end up getting raped. If you come with me, I can arrange an escape that won't get you caught and I'll fight off anyone who pursues us."
"We have nothing to loose Daphne, and a lot to gain." sighed Davis.
Greengrass nodded slightly and offered him her hand. After shaking hands with both, he turned back to the tunnel.
"Now, what do you think Greengrass, Davis, terror ward? Nightmare curse? Or one I invented myself, the drop-kick to the bollocks curse." he asked with a hint of humour.
"Layer them one after another." Davis giggled; "And you might as well call me Tracy, and if Her Majesty the Queen of Ice allows us mere mortals, she's Daphne."
"Tracy!" hissed Greengrass.
Harry chuckled and watched them leave. Neither was of great height, though Davis was a touch shorter with long brown hair sweeping down to her back and with quite prominent 'assets', Greengrass had long golden-blonde hair caught in a neat ponytail which was quite long, her hair framing delicate facial features and ice-blue eyes. She wasn't quite as physically matured as her friend, but they were both very attractive. So what, he was a sucker for pretty girls.
For the next two days, he plotted. Harry had to admit he was good at it, and it was rather fun. The third day was a Hogsmeade weekend, which suited his plans for none of them to be missed for a full day. At dinner on the second day, he silently conjured a snake and hissed brief instructions to it. The conjuration wouldn't last long, but it would do the necessary job. It was the signal to the two young women to escape.
Slipping out, he began finish his last layering of the school with noisy and distracting pranks. Harry had already counted over fifteen-hundred of them hidden everywhere. It would probably take at least an extra day for them to clear up his messes and start hunting them down. With around seven months until he was sixteen, he had to stay free for that and a year for freedom in the wizarding world.
Stood by the statue of a one-eyed witch, Daphne Greengrass whispered to her long-time friend;
"You don't think Potter has double crossed us?"
"Nope." stated a cheerful voice as said Potter emerged from a passageway which had apparently was behind the statue; "Down here and fast, if we get caught this early, the whole escape is off. If we get halfway down this tunnel, nobody can catch us."
They quickly dived down as he began layering curses on the entrance.
"Get going, I'll catch up once I've sealed this." he ordered, finishing warding the exit. Hitting the floor, ceiling and walls of the tunnel with his wand, he watched approvingly as a rune appeared in the stone of each. Grabbing the Fairbairn-Sykes knife out of the back of his trousers, Harry, cut his palm, allowing blood to drip onto the rune on the floor. It was a short-term blood-based ward which simply wouldn't let anyone through until it was overpowered or ceased working in about two weeks.
And since blood, particularly his with phoenix tears and basilisk venom was one of the most powerful magical substances on earth, it was unlikely anything could overpower it. Racing down the passageway, Harry caught up with the two young women and a minute later, he felt the tingle of the wards of Hogwarts.
"We're out." he stated, fishing out a wallet from his pocket; "Touch this."
Hesitantly they both laid a hand on the leather as he hissed something under his breath. A green glow and they were spinning through the air for all of five seconds. When they ceased spinning, the three found themselves in a comfortable-looking sitting room with a mixture of odd ends of antique furniture and non-magical technology.
"Welcome to my London home. We'll lay up here for the night and probably get out of the country tomorrow. Don't do any magic around here, this flat is completely magic-free so the Ministry won't track it. The neighbours know that an eccentric millionaire lives here so won't bother us and there is no paperwork connecting me to this place." Harry stated; "What we used to travel was the Parsel equivalent of a Portkey, but I'm not using it more than once because they might be able to create a way to trace it if I were to use it too often."
Too full of adrenaline to do anything but nod, the two women were quickly directed to bedrooms as Harry retired to his study and the laptop he had just a few hours to finish magic-proofing.
Daphne wandered down the hallway after a quick shower, exquisite smells that exceeded those of Hogwarts emanating from the kitchen. Slipping in, she glanced around before commenting to Harry's back.
"Not exactly what I expected for a bachelor pad."
"It does the job and I have a taste for antiques." Harry replied, checking the cooker. "Full Monty alright with you?"
"That being?" she asked.
"Sausages, bacon, white pudding, black pudding, kippers, fried egg, tomatoes, mushrooms, bubble and squeak, hash browns, toast, and potato cakes." he replied, already piling it onto a plate which he placed in front of her moments later.
"How the hell do you eat this much and stay a scrawny git?!" said Daphne incredulously.
"I usually only eat this during the summer months, and I usually work it off." Harry smirked; "And you've never seen me out of robes."
He let his dressing gown come off, hanging it on a peg. Underneath, he was wearing flexible joggers, a t-shirt and a belt holding a katana and wakizashi.
"Unlike you lazy-bones, I've been up since four-thirty this morning working out." he continued with the same smirk; "I've spent over five hours a day for the last three years learning how to fight with various swords and magic. You see that's why every time darling Draco comes to hex me, he ends up either highly humiliated or with no memory of the event. Basically, magical power is useless if you're not fit. You can't dodge and gradually your power diminishes if you become unfit. Whenever I see Malfoy gorging on sweets from mummy, I laugh at him."
"I see." stated Daphne, her eyes raking across his form with no little interest.
"Morning Tracy." Harry said as she came in, already filling a plate for you.
"Is that all true?" she asked.
"Yep, completely. Pureblood families are diminishing in power because they're completely unfit and, more often than not, totally inbred. Luckily for me, my mother was mundane-born, my paternal grandmother was a Black. Charlus Potter's own mother was a first-generation witch. The Potter family often marry halfbloods, muggleborns or purebloods they haven't married into for centuries." Harry replied, retrieving his mug of coffee and sitting down at the table as Tracy tucked into her meal.
"We've always been taught how muggles, however much we must tolerate them, are insignificant." said Daphne with a bit of confusion, used to the purist mantra; "I'm technically a low-level pureblood with Nordic heritage and Tracy is a halfblood."
"Name the fastest broom in the world." Harry ordered.
"Firebolt, top speed of a hundred-and-fifty which you should know since you have one." said Tracy.
"Okay, completely without magic, non-magicals, as I prefer as it's less insulting, have gone faster than the speed of sound which is seven-hundred and sixty miles an hour if I remember correctly." Harry pointed out; "Where we have brooms which can carry a couple of people, non-magicals have machines that can carry hundreds of people, or go twice the speed of sound. Magicals such as most British wizards, however, are backward, stupid, stuck in the nineteenth century. Magic has made them complacent, so sure of their superiority, they don't even realise that how utterly imbecilic they are. Obliviating someone won't help if a camera records you do it. Rarely do these cameras use film, usually the image is recorded hundreds of miles away. The Statute is paper-thin and they're too stupid to realise."
The two young women looked sickly at the realisation.
"What're our plans?" asked Tracy, looking to change the subject.
"Ask Harry, he's in charge of tactical thinking." Daphne said wryly, pointing her fork at him.
"I could go to one of the estates and whack a Fidelius charm down on it, but personally that doesn't appeal to me. As I mentioned yesterday, getting out of the country does. Considered a world tour?" he shrugged, taking a sip from his coffee.
"The Ministry tracks all International Portkeys in and out of the country." said Tracy.
"I hate Portkeys and I wasn't suggesting using them anyway." replied Harry; "Anyway, I reckon we've got today and maybe tomorrow to do what we want before people start searching, so I suggest we do some shopping today, get clothes that fit in."
"Ignoring the fact that you haven't addressed transport, supposing we get out of the country, where do we go?" asked Daphne.
"Anywhere in the world really. I'd recommend southern Europe, there are some pretty nice beaches in that direction. Spain's good although I'd hold off on France, because once the Ministry become convinced we have left the country, France is where they'll first look, especially since they know of my friendship with the elder Delacour daughter." he commented thoughtfully; "I don't have any links to the Spanish, which is both good and bad."
"How so?" Tracy said curiously.
"Knowing people in law enforcement, intelligence and the various militaries around the world is very useful." Harry smirked; "I know you've probably found out that I spend my summers with non-magical relatives. That's rubbish, ever since my first year, an elf has been there under polyjuice allowing me to run around doing whatever I want."
"Why weren't you a Slytherin." said Daphne despairingly; "If the Lions have the best Snake, I don't know what's coming to the world."
"Because of the death-toll that would have occurred had I been in the viper's pit." he chuckled; "I've learnt how to manage finances since I could walk, I had to when my relatives pawned off all the housekeeping on me. Gradually I learnt the things that the best Slytherin should know. How could a manor-raised brat like Malfoy be a Slytherin? He hasn't an ounce of cunning in him."
"Point. Anyway, where're we going shopping?" Tracy asked.
"I need to pick up an order from my tailor, I guess after that I'll let you two loose in Harrods." said Harry thoughtfully.
"What's Harrods?" Daphne said with a cute frown of confusion.
"Imagine dozens of shops, non-magical ones, but about the size of Diagon Alley, packed into one building. Loads of shops selling makeup, perfume, clothes, even toys for children. It's populated mainly by the rich and famous." he replied, catching a dubious look from the two of them; "I may not play pureblood politics in the magical world doesn't mean I'm not bloody good at it outside the magical world. It's not as tame in the non-magical world as it is in the magical world you're used to. Anyway, eat up, I need to get changed."
"How are we going to pay for this?" asked Tracey worriedly.
"I'll bankroll it." replied Harry; "Amongst my many accounts, I have one in London with Coutts bank with a couple of million sitting in an account. The identity I'll be using is one that is a minor nobleman in this world."
He slipped out, returning a few minutes later in smart brogues, dark-blue slacks, blazer, a white shirt and a black tie, with his hair brushed down into less of a mess.
"That's... different." stated Daphne.
"You mean not an utter mess?" Harry countered.
Harry was beginning to regret taking the two girls shopping. His introducing them to non-magical clothing had gone well, in that they were now obsessed with it. His bank account was certainly taking a several thousand pound hit today. He was just down at the car, a 1999 Bentley Continental T Mulliner, loading the latest shopping into the massive boot when Dobby popped in, still invisible.
"Master Harry sir, they is findings out! Dobby has set off your pranks!" said the excitable elf. Harry nodded approvingly, but his glasses picked up a spell on the elf, a tracking charm.
"Thanks Dobby, go now." he ordered, striding to the lift back up to the clothes area. Quickly finding the two young women, he grabbed Daphne's arm.
"We need to get going soon, we've been found out and somebody put a tracking charm on Dobby, my personal elf." he whispered to her; "Finish shopping, they'll take the cost from my account, meet at the car. Tell Tracy."
It was another quarter of an hour before the Bentley pulled away from Harrods and raced across Knightsbridge and Kensington to the townhouse near the Royal Albert Hall.
"So, are we leaving Britain now?" asked Tracy.
"At least until things cool down." Harry nodded; "I've got a few contacts around the world, and in the British Commonwealth, I'm Baron Potter until I turn eighteen and become Earl of Caereryr. The House of Potter was the only one which didn't leave the non-magical world back in sixteen-ninety, we've kept our influence and built it ever-higher, the same for our money."
"How much are the Potters worth, or the Potter singular?" Daphne enquired.
"My spending account contains five million pounds, that's a million Galleons, with Coutts bank in London, something like and many more millions distributed through a number of banks, Cayman Islands, Monaco and Switzerland." Harry shrugged; "I keep the rest in gold bullion which is easy to trade and given that a Galleon carries about ten grams of gold, it's worth a hundred pounds in the non-magical world. The equivalent of twenty Galleons, which are worth two-thousand pounds, which is the equivalent of four-hundred galleons... You get the picture."
"You've been fleecing the magical world this whole time." realised Tracey, who was stuffing clothes into a suitcase.
"Of course. It's an expendable asset and Gringotts likes me because I'm generous with my tips and they take a pound out of every six I change for Galleons, they get a pound, I get a Galleon from the remaining five pounds." Harry smirked; "I'm rather good at manipulating the magical world. For instance Hagrid's Acromantula colony, I made a deal with them, one in every five spiders born go to a preserve in South America where I get all the silk, and the Hogwarts Acromantula give me all their spare silk. The Centaurs make longbows and fletch arrows which I sell into the non-magical world and they get free reign of one of my estates bordering the Forbidden Forest. Anyway, it'd be worth getting going, as soon as we're out of London, the safer I feel."
"What about your owl?" asked Daphne.
"Hedwig knows where I'm going and is going to stay around and cause as much trouble as she can." Harry continued, shrinking his own crocodile-skin suitcase which Charlus Potter's father, Andrew Potter, had shot.
"So where're we going?" Daphne continued.
"Spain, spend a few weeks there, Geneva for the fifth of March, there's a show I want to be present for." Harry replied, fishing out a briefcase from a cupboard; "Got ID for all of us. They're all real, I've put us into the records. As Sirius' heir, I don't think he minds me using Harold Black as my name and I've used it for my drivers' licence. Tracy, you're registered in the non-magical world so I've given you the name Tracy de Vere, it's an old noble name but not without enough members to raise many eyebrows, Daphne, you're not registered so I put you in under your own name. Passport allows you to travel overseas."
"You're the Black heir?"
"Uh huh. Baron Blackmore is what I should be, but because I've changed the age on my ID and all the government files to an adult age in the non-magical world, I'm Earl of Blackmore. First since the Statute of Secrecy. I'll allow Sirius to take over if I can get him cleared."
"He's innocent?"
"Yup." Harry replied; "In fact he was never even given a trial."
He melted into a shadow for a few seconds, vanishing into darkness before returning, stepping out wandlessly levitating a large grey safe.
"How did you do that?!" demanded Tracy.
"Japanese shadow magic." Harry smirked; "I nicked a Timeturner at the end of my third year and I've abused it comprehensively, I have quite a broad knowledge on foreign magic. Even ancient Druidic magic, Egyptian curses, Byzantine battle magic, some alchemy and a few other things. Most of it is either forgotten or considered dark by the British Wizarding World."
He directed his fingers at the grey-coloured safe and slowly closed them together, shrinking it until he could simply throw it into a pocket.
"Wow!" the two young women said simultaneously.
"You simply need a bit of logic. For instance, every so often, I sell a lot of gold onto the non-magical market at a high price, making the over-all value crash. When it reaches rock-bottom, I buy a mass for far less. I end up probably with around the same amount of money but loads more gold, causing the price to climb massively. When it reaches peak, I sell a bit more gold onto the market, the price crashes, I buy lots cheap, repeat, repeat, repeat." Harry replied; "Basically, the point is, British magicals have no sense of logic, they are insular, they call anything that is too powerful or esoteric 'dark'. Yes there is some truly dark magic but not all of what they able 'dark arts' is dark. I was intending on leaving at the end of this year anyway, I got tired of Dumbledore."
"I get it!" exclaimed Tracy; "And I've got an idea. I had a muggle – I mean non-magical – friend. She had a laboratory where she did potions-like things but with really high-quality cheap stuff, like vials you could get a hundred of for a Galleon, protective glasses and a coat which we should have in potions, especially with Snape."
"Excellent idea. And house-elves have their own powerful magic, they can make things unbreakable and transport them through wards." Harry smirked.
"A delivery service!" said Daphne.
"Just so. Tell you what, I'll float you a loan, ten-thousand pounds between you, and I'll help you set up business. Heck knows I've got so many bored elves." Harry chuckled; "But we need to get going. We can discuss this in the car."
They quickly loaded up the Bentley, Harry driving them out of the city and cruising onto the motorway, the barely-audible purr that it had in the city giving way to a muffled roar as the turbocharged V8 sped the car up to cruise-speed.
"How many of these things are there?" asked Tracy, who was sat in the front with him, gazing at the cars that the Bentley was rapidly cruising past.
"Probably over a million." Harry replied; "Most households have at least one. They've been building them since the very first car was made in Germany over a century ago. I see myself as a bit of a collector and have a number."
"How many?" asked Daphne, looking up from the laptop which he'd loaded a film on for her to watch.
"More than two-dozen." he answered, opening a screen on the centre-console. A moment of fiddling brought up a series of photos; "Aston Martin DB5, Audi Quattro Rally, this Bentley, a 1930 Bentley Speed Six, BMW E46 M3 GTR, Corvette C2 and C3, Ferrari Daytona, Ford GT40, GT500 and GT, Jaguar XK150 and E-Type, Lamborghini Muira, Mercedes 300SL and a Brabus SV12S. That's just what I've got photos of."
"How fast do these go?" Tracey enquired as Harry sped up to avoid a car cutting into their lane from right next to them.
"Not all of them have the same top speed, the older, probably the slower. The heavier too. This is pretty heavy, but it can go up to about one-hundred and seventy, one hundred and eighty tops." Harry commented; "I can't go that fast here as it's illegal and because everyone else would be going so slowly I'd probably crash into them. Also, these are worth quite a lot, back when I bought it, this was about three-hundred and fifty-thousand pounds. My collection, my personal one, not including what my parents and grandparents bought, is worth several million."
"So, where're we going, how're we getting there?" said Daphne.
"Dover, we'll take a ferry to Santander in Spain, drive south to Burgos, then south-west onto Salamanca, south-east to Avila, then San Lorenzo de El Escorial, a huge palace, before the short drive to Madrid. We'll then head north-west across the Pyrenees mountains into France, Toulouse, Lyon, and the Geneva in Switzerland. Ever been skiing?" he replied.
"No." the two girls replied together.
"Trust me, it's fun. A sort-of carriage suspended from wires takes you to the top of a mountain and you get to race down on the snow. It's better shown than explained." Harry continued, manipulating the centre console computer to show someone skiing down a mountain. "That should keep us busy until mid-March."
"I can't speak French. Or Spanish!" said a slightly panicky Tracy.
"I can." Harry enquired; "How's your Occlumency?"
"We both know enough to detect an intrusion and draw attention to the person." replied Daphne; "It's expected for almost all purebloods."
"Right, I accidentally started Occlumency aged six with a local guy who taught me martial arts when I could get away from my muggle relatives. I'm pretty natural at it, to the extent I have hidden big chunks of my memories and when Dumbledore violates my mind, he sees what I want, and what I want him to see is what he wants." Harry described; "So anyway, I can pick up languages fairly easily, I'll teach you both the Mind Arts, and that'll help you learn the languages. Otherwise, a friend of mine developed a spell which, when applied daily, allows you to understand foreign languages. You still hear the words spoken in a different language and you can't speak them, but it helps you learn."
"Thanks." smiled Tracy; "But when we were taught Occlumency, it was by saying 'clear your mind' and using Legilimency on us."
For the first time, Harry looked genuinely furious.
"That's just mind-rape! Occlumency is developed through meditation – mental control and manipulation!" he hissed before dropping into a tirade of insults and curses given in Arabic and calming down nearly five minutes later; "But anyway, from Switzerland, there are a few places I want to see in Austria, such as Vienna before heading into Germany, going right across it, Munich, Stuttgart, Frankfurt, Aachen, Cologne, Munster. After that we can head into The Netherlands. I like Amsterdam but I'm not sure if you're old enough to enjoy it properly."
Tracy blushed while Daphne just looked confused.
"I mean the Red Light District is quite... energetic."
"Shut up!" a bright-red Tracy ordered.
"Someone clue me in!" demanded Daphne.
"The Dutch, particularly in parts of Amsterdam..." Tracy trailed off.
"They're quite open about their sexuality." he deadpanned before saying to their incredulous; "What, I'm not a complete sexual or social virgin."
"Well, it's just a lot of the school assumed that you were involved in some sort of three-way with Weasley and Granger. Or that there was some kind of love-rivalry there." Daphne said slowly.
"Heck no. Ron's an immature bastard with a penchant for betrayal and Hermione hates anyone doing anything better than she does." scoffed Harry; "But anyway, you saw what I wanted to see, and what you expected to see. The Gryffindor golden boy with his select friends, not outgoing but oh-so heroic. When outside of school, I'm not lacking in self-confidence. Unlike bad-faith, not unjustly so."
"Bad-faith?" asked Tracey.
"Malfoy. Bastard line of the French nobility of du Malfoi, wealthy and cunning, they will happily back-stab and cheat, but they're not ones for petty evil, but true cunning. The Malfoy line was made by a few good marriages, Narcissa Black and Lucy, his mother was a member of a noble family which were all suspiciously wiped out, leaving the entire fortune to Abraxus Malfoy, who I call Abby." Harry replied.
"And completely disrespectful to anyone he dislikes." Daphne smirked.
"Yup!" Harry said with a broad grin; "Anyway, it'll be about an hour, maybe a bit more, to Dover. I booked first-class tickets on a ferry to Santander. Nothing but the best for my ladies."
"Flattery won't help you." said Tracy.
"Hmm..." Harry replied disbelievingly.
"I know you make a lot of money trading gold, but how did your family keep its fortunes?" asked Daphne curiously.
"Well, for the last few centuries it has been shipping. They saw in the seventeenth century that there was money to be made by trading. For over two centuries, our ships have run expensive cargoes across the world." Harry replied; "We lost some ships during the First World War, so the Lord Potter, my great-great-grandfather Wulfric Potter, bought several scrapyards. When the war ended, dozens of warships were 'scrapped'. He obliviated the workers and kept the ships. When a treaty had more warships 'scrapped' for being too big, he got them. During the Second World War, you call the Grindelwald Conflict, he defended the Potter Shipping Fleet with these battleships, and bought even more ships after the war. His son Andrew, and his grandson Charlus continuing to do so. But in recent years, ships have become so large that our shipping has become obsolete."
"So hundreds of years your family has been importing things to Britain which has brought the fortunes of the Potter fortune. You know it's a much debated topic, nobody until now actually knew how the Potters became rich." said Daphne.
"Actually, we made money before then by working closely with the crown. For instance, in the late fifteenth century, their was a civil war between two families over the crown, the Tudors of Lancaster and the Plantagenets of York. The Potters sided with the Plantagenet side for as long as it took to gain as much as possible from them before betraying them for the Tudors." Harry continued; "Where there was money and influence to be made, through history, we were there. When the Normans of France invaded Saxon England in 1066, they joined the Norman side shortly after the Saxons paid us a massive amount to side with them. The Normans won and we were rewarded handsomely. Currently, I'm worth something in the region of zero-point-nine billion Galleons."
"Merlin! By staying in the non-magical world, they became richer than the richest of purebloods put together!" exclaimed Tracy, realising how much they'd lost out on.
"Dead on." Harry said approvingly. "I don't expect you to fully lose these ridiculous notions of pureblood superiority immediately, but I'll do my best to debase them. For instance, name the most powerful wizards you know of who are or were alive during the twentieth century.
"Probably Dumbledore, Grindelwald, You-Know-Who and you." admitted Daphne.
"No, I really don't know who, but I assume you're referencing the Dark Lord anagram. Tom Marvolo Riddle, a halfblood bastard child of a near-squib and a minor non-magical nobleman, who changed the letters in his name around to spell I am Lord Voldemort. Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald, both halfbloods. I'm a bit different, my maternal grandfather was a pureblood American squib of Native 'Red Indian' heritage who met my maternal grandmother when he came over here with the American military." Harry added; "With a maternal grandmother who was a Black, I've got affinities for lots of different magic. But no Black had ever before married a Potter, and vice-versa, so there was barely any relation there. My mother and father had no blood relations except me. The ferret, Draco, his parents and grandparents were all related, yet he has mediocre skill and little power."
"Anything to declare?" asked the police officer boredly. Harry decided to lighten up his day.
"Yep, three-hundred small arms, ten main battle tanks and a Vanguard-class Trident nuclear ballistic missile submarine. I keep it in my wallet." he replied with a straight face.
"Nice one sonny." chuckled said police officer.
"Nah, here's my passport, and those of my two companions, forms for one Bentley Continental T Mulliner, European health cards, all the bureaucracy to travel overseas." Harry listed the items as he pulled them out of a briefcase.
"Can I ask why you've got your companions' forms?" asked the officer, checking the forms over and glancing at the two silent women stood behind the young man in the smart suit.
"They are my wards until they come of age. If you need to confirm, get in contact with the right authority and ask for the files on Harold Black, or possibly filed under Blackmore, the Earldom thereof."
"You're kidding with me?" said the police officer.
"Nope." replied Harry; "Check my passport, note instead of Mister, it says Lord. Though I don't use the title unless I am supremely angry at someone."
"And onto a new world." Harry smirked, removing a Havana cigar from a silver case in his blazer and lighting it.
"Never took you for a smoker." commented Tracey.
"If I'd told you a couple of days ago that you'd be doing a runner to the Continent with me, you'd have laughed at me." he shrugged; "We've all had our illusions shattered."
"What's the rest of the world like?" asked Daphne.
"Like Britain, there's good and bad out there, the landscapes are undoubtedly different. Spain has great mountains, rolling plains, cities and beaches. France, across a range of mountains in the north of Spain, is somewhat more similar to Britain, though there are great rocky cliffs rising from rivers in some parts, often populated by ancient castles. Each country has a unique culture, often changing from town to town, from city to city." replied Harry.