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The World Through Emerald Eyes
Chapter Four
Harrison didn't say goodbye to his parents, too ashamed to turn and speak to them. But they knew he was coming back anyway, so he tried not to let it bother him. When the heat of the summer day warmed his chilled form, he took a deep breath to gather himself.
"Alright, my boy," Albus spoke, causing Harrison to face him, "off we go."
Harrison arched an eyebrow. "Where to?" Hogwarts didn't start for a month and he was certain they couldn't pick up a cauldron in any shop in London.
Albus smiled down at him and chuckled, eyes gentling finally. "We're going to Diagon Alley."
Harrison stared at him. "Diagon Alley? Never heard of it."
"No, I suppose not," was all the man replied cryptically as he started down the stairs. "It's not in the muggle world," he continued when Harrison followed him.
The man was getting odd looks, even in London which was full of people who dressed weirdly and Harrison put as much space between himself and his... headmaster as possible while still being able to converse. "Wait," he said, balking. "We're going to that world?" he asked, alarmed. Suddenly all he wanted to do was run.
The headmaster just smiled absentmindedly as if nothing was amiss and Harrison felt lost. "Of course! Where else would we get your supplies to Hogwarts?" he asked happily. "We're lucky," he continued as if Harrison wasn't about to lose last night's dinner. "Since we're going so early, we'll miss the student rush. Most people won't be expecting you to be getting your supplies yet so we won't have to fight off the hype of your return."
"My return?" Harrison sneered. It wasn't as if he was willing. "Because I'm the defeater of this Voldemort, right?"
The man side-eyed him. "Indeed. You're known as the Boy-Who-Lived." He looked forward again. "Harry, while I applaud you for the use of his name, many people in our world fear it. While wonderful that you can say it, I would advise you to keep quiet when around people you do not know."
Harrison frowned. "Fear what? You said they fear 'it'."
The headmaster sighed. "Unfortunately, wizards fear everything to do with Voldemort, including his name."
"His... name." Harrison stared disbelievingly at the man. "You're saying an entire population of fre- magic users-" he was careful to hiss it under his breath, "-are afraid of a word. A name. Seriously? Why?"
The man smiled slightly, as if please with his questions. "Magic, Harry," the man said happily, carelessly to the world. Harrison's head snapped up to gape at the man in shock at his blatant statement and rushed to look around. No one seemed to be paying them more attention that what the headmaster's outfit seemed due and Harrison felt his heart start again.
"Can you say that so carelessly!?" he demanded. "Aren't you worried about – you know – exposure?"
The man grinned. "Ah. Muggles are amazing people. They hear only what they want to hear and force the rest to fit common logic." He was at ease amongst the people around him and Harrison fought off another sneer, this one aimed directly at the man.
"Yeah, amazing," he repeated without feeling.
"Indeed. It makes it surprisingly easy to hide in plain sight. Of course, we use notice-me-not spells and wards to repel muggles from accidentally finding and stumbling upon our world, but we truly exist right alongside them."
Harrison frowned, wondering how many people he interacted with that might have been magical all along. He felt like he'd been tricked into playing with a kid with some contagious disease. He didn't like it at all. "And we're going there now? How do we get there? Where is it?" Better to know to avoid it in the future.
"Ah, well that's a perk about you living in London, my boy. The entrance to Diagon is actually just a few more blocks."
Harrison's face, had the headmaster bothered to glance back, would have been set in horror.
"Speaking of which," the man started on another direction and cast a searching look into Harrison's semi-put together face, "I was surprised to find that your family had moved."
Harrison snorted. "Really? I don't find it that shocking. Why would they stay?"
The headmaster stopped walking and turned to face him head on. "Harry, it was imperative that your family stay beneath the blood wards your mother's sacrifice gave you. You were protected there, better than anywhere else you could have possible been. I added wards myself to ensure you were all safe. I explained that in the letter. Do you remember?"
Did the man sound stressed? Or better yet, frustrated? Harrison sighed and mentally rolled his eyes. "I am not a senseless child, sir. I remember the letter. I said they showed it to me, didn't I?" He crossed his arms and stared hard at the man. "It didn't matter what you said. Mom and dad didn't want to stay. And well, would you look at that!" he mocked, eyes going wide as he exaggeratedly smiled and looked down at himself. "I'm perfectly fine!" His smile fell off his lips when he met the headmasters disapproving gaze and he scoffed, but submissively looked down.
He heard the headmaster sigh lightly and he glanced up, seeing the man appear to give up and turn around. "Come, Harry," he gestured. "We're almost there."
Harrison followed behind him, glaring at the man's back. He listened to his teachers out of respect and his parents out of love as well as that respect. He didn't like having to obey someone out of fear of what they would do if he didn't.
"Harry?"
Harrison debated whether or not to even reply to the incorrect name. "Yes?" he asked tiredly.
"Why do you call your aunt and uncle 'Mom,' and 'Dad,'? You are clearly aware that they are not your parents. Don't you think that maybe it might be a dishonor to your real parents?" Dumbledore prodded, not looking at him.
Frowning up at the man, Harrison replied slowly, thinking. "No. I mean, Mom- er, my aunt- raised me as if I was her son. She and d- my uncle-" he huffed in irritation, "- they took care of me and loved me like I was a Dursley. My real parents are dead." He shrugged. "They're not feeling anything."
The headmaster stopped again and turned with a horrified expression. "Harry!"
Harrison scowled. "And while we're on terms and names, sir, my name is Harrison. Not Harry." He stood tall and raised his head back a little, challenging.
The man sighed. "Harry-"
"Harrison, headmaster. I just said my name is Harrison."
Albus Dumbledore might look like am old stranger, but when he pursed his lips and looked over his glasses at him, Harrison got the distinct impression that the man wished to be a disapproving role model. Not bloody likely.
"My boy, you were born Harry James Potter – a strong house indeed. Your father and mother were both powerful and loved by many people. Shunning that name is like shunning your home and your family."
Harrison shook his head stubbornly. "I may be a Potter by blood and birth, but I'm also an Evans. And Evans is part Dursley. I was raised Dursley and loved as a Dursley. They are my home; my family. I love my mom and dad, headmaster. And with all respect due, that is none of your business as a school official." He crossed his arms and bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from backing down in the face of a powerful and experienced magic user.
The man's frown was deep enough to cause more wrinkles in the old face. Dumbledore made a sound that Harrison would call a tisk and it caused his hackles to rise at the audacity of the stranger. "Well, be that as it may, you are known as a Potter, Harry, and in our world, we won't recognize the name change from magical to muggle unless it's done by a magical relative or by yourself when you come of age – which is seventeen."
Harrison's blood boiled below the surface and he was practically spitting flames. "I hardly see that as fair."
"Mmm," was his response before Dumbledore left him as he turned the block, expecting Harrison to follow.
Grudgingly, he did. "Can't my family contact this – this Ministry and inform them? It was a legal adoption. Surely they would recognize that!" Not that his family wanted anything to do with freaks, but he was sure his mom would at least sign her name is he wrote up the letter and sent it.
"Of course they do, Harry. But you keep forgetting that you are a special case." A happy smile came to Dumbledore's lips which caused Harrison to scowl. "You are a public figure. Famous! Surely those muggle tabloids have shown you that things like that never change much. Once someone is known, changing a name is difficult. Actually, don't most American actresses keep their full name despite marrying another?"
Harrison's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Sir... Did you just – you read tabloids?" He wasn't sure how to address the subject. The simple statement had too many odd points for Harrison to look at them all. He kept tabs on normal peoples' activities? He read American tabloids and magazines like People and US? He knew movie actresses? What the hell?
The man gave a chuckle. "Why of course! There are some that have lovely knitting lessons and patterns I enjoy learning." His smile was joyful.
Harrison just stared at him.
"Here we are!" Dumbledore finally exclaimed, clapping his hands together once and grinning ahead of him.
Snapping out of his complete bemusement, Harrison glanced forward an saw an old, broken down pub. He wrinkled his nose distastefully. No one of his standing would ever be seen walking into such a place. "This is the entrance to Diagon Alley?" he asked dubiously. The wizarding world wasn't shaping up to be much, was it?
Dumbledore laughed. "No, it's just the in between. Come along, Harry. We must make haste." He walked forward but glanced back when Harrison interrupted him.
"Sir, I'm only eleven. I'm not allowed in a pub. People – people will notice." he sounded heavily displeased and glanced about him, noting how many people would be able to see such a fall from grace. No member of upstanding society would be caught dead at such a place.
"Worry not, my boy. Muggles don't even see this place. To them, it's a rotted building with cautionary signs prohibiting entrance. Come along," he repeated.
With a puzzled look, Harrison followed, glancing around him again and seeing that, yes, no one even spotted him or his companion. It was like they weren't even there. "How do you stop the delinquents then? Or the homeless from entering?" It wasn't like they cared about warnings or laws.
"Magic," was the merry reply and Harrison blinked at the man for a moment before he frowned and rolled his eyes.
"Albus!" a deep voice erupted, scaring Harrison into jumping a little. The man wore an apron and was setting down a polished glass that, despite the treatment, was still dirty. Probably because the rag he was using was dirtier than the glass.
Harrison was repulsed and tried to not let his displeasure show at how uncared for the entire establishment was.
"Hello Tom," his headmaster replied joyfully. "It's good to see you."
"You as well, sir! Been months since your last stop! What's the cause today? Here for your usual?" the dirty man asked, reaching for the glass he had just set down in readiness.
"No, unfortunately not. Just helping a new student get his supplies early. Minerva was unavailable and this young lad would only be free today."
Harrison met the eyes of the fat man behind the counter blankly when he leaned over the counter to inspect him.
"That so? Getting an early start, right laddy? Always good. Perhaps you'll be in Ravenclaw like my son! Graduated last year. Smart boy." He smiled wistfully for a moment then wagged a finger in Harrison's direction. "Just remember, studying isn't everything."
"...Right," Harrison replied out of politeness, voice tense.
Dumbledore chuckled and settled a hand on his shoulder and began to steer him towards the back of the pub. "Must be off, I'm afraid. Next time, Tom," he called out cheerfully. They passed curious, but easily dismissive stairs on they way and Harrison only let out a breath when they exited the grunge-laid place.
"That place is disgusting," he snapped, almost unable to contain the statement anymore. "How do people even go there to drink!?"
Dumbledore eyed him disapprovingly. "The Leaky Cauldron has been in business for years. Tom's family founded it decades ago. I'm sure it could stand to use some scrubbing, but it's a lovely place."
Harrison's face twisted, seeing the man in an even more disgusted light. "Go there often, do you?" he asked and watched, heart making a sudden jolt when the man pulled out his stick – no, his wand. Right. It had been on his list. He shuddered.
"Mm. Sometimes. I do enjoy a good butterbeer." He smiled down at Harrison gently. "But that will be our little secret." He winked at him then focused on the brick wall at the end of the space.
Harrison looked around, confused. It wasn't a big space. In fact, with the trashcans, the space made him feel claustrophobic. When he opened his mouth to say so, he spotted the man tapping the bricks with his wand. After a moment when he stepped back, Harrison saw them beginning to move.
"Ah!" he exclaimed and stumbled back into the door behind him. "What the bloody hell!?" he stared as the bricks arranged them self slowly to form an open archway with wide and fearful eyes. Deep down in the emerald gaze however, there was a spark of something else behind the sleek frames.
"Welcome to Diagon Alley," Dumbledore said, gesturing lightly for Harrison to enter.
From his spot huddled on the wall, Harrison couldn't see anything, but the sudden barrage of noise had his curiosity fighting his fear. Cautiously, he stood up straight, face half frightened and half shocked. Casting a questioning look at his headmaster who nodded encouragingly, Harrison sucked in a deep breath and forced confident and smooth steps to the opening.
Glancing around the corner, Harrison's face went slack in awe. Hundreds of people busied themselves on the street of the cramped alley, bustling from store to store. They all wore strange clothes – robes, he thought. Some even wore pointy hats like the traditional idea and that caused Harrison to snicker despite himself.
When Dumbledore chuckled at his interest, Harrison shook himself and turned onto the street to appear confident and put together. He tried to blank his face but his eyes were everywhere, trying to take in everything at once and then having to look back to see something again to make sure he saw it right.
Was that a broom shop? Were those pictures moving!? Did that piece of chocolate just jump at the window of the store?!
Harrison's heart was pounding in his ears and his face flushed with excitement. Everything was so strange and cool but at the same time, he tried to real himself in, feeling ashamed. This stuff was freakish. He shouldn't think it was cool. How old was he, anyway? Eight? He was too old to be wowed anymore. At least that was his eleven year old mentality.
Harrison fought with the desire to touch and see everything in the alley and the want to head home and pretend this world had been a dream and say it was a nightmare. He sighed and looked down at his shoes to keep from seeing the interesting things around him. That was the freak part of him that liked all this. Not the normal side. Not the Dursley side.
He glared at the street, following back of his headmaster's shoes to know where he was going. His mood had dropped suddenly and because he refused to look up, he missed the pitying and concerned look Dumbledore gave him.
"Are you alright?" the man asked him.
Harrison scoffed audibly. "Peachy, sir," he replied sarcastically.
"Well, we're about to enter the bank, so you might want to see where you're going," the man replied, a laugh in his voice.
"Bank?" he asked dumbly. It suddenly occurred to him that he didn't have much money on him. Did twenty-five pounds count as a lot in this world?
"Yes, Harry. To get money from your trust fund." The man smiled at him.
"My trust?" Harrison repeated again. "What trust fund?"
"The one your parents left you of course!" Dumbledore replied happily. "Surely, you didn't think they left you nothing, did you?" He smiled and walked up the steps towards the huge open doors at the top.
Harrison took the moment to look up at his surroundings. 'They left me, didn't they? Why would I think they left me anything?' he thought casually as he eyed the leaning columns holding up the huge white marble bank. He idly wondered if that was safe before joining the waiting man.
"Now Harry," Dumbledore told him, putting a hand on his shoulder and leaning down to his eye level, "I need to tell you that this bank isn't what you're used to."
"No?" Harrison asked mockingly.
Either the man didn't realized he was being insulted or didn't care since he pressed on. "It's run by goblins-"
"Goblins!?"
"- and they aren't exactly the friendliest type. It is best to not catch the eye of one you are not discussing your accounts with. Never interrupt them. They are easily offended."
Harrison's jaw was reaching for the floor while the man continued on unaware. "In fact, you can just let me do the talking, alright?" He waited for Harrison to nod which he did after several long moments. "Good! Follow me!"
Together they walked through the large and extravagant doors and this time, Harrison couldn't look down. The sight inside was magnificent! Huge ceilings and pillars made of shinning marble caught his attention second to the amount of gold that seemed to be on the desks of every worker. The first thing he took in however, were the short, wrinkled, and down right malicious looking figures that were busy with the work of their station. They possessed long noses and pointed ears and long fingers with sharp, yellowed nails. They had beedy little eyes and, despite how grotesque they appeared, Harrison was able to muster up a smirk. Now these looked like the people you wanted to hold your money. They didn't take shit from anyone.
His Dad would have loved this – if they were human and normal. Harrison would know – his father had taught them the aspects of good banking when they were old enough to ask for their first pound. 'Always show respect to the person who controls your money because you never know when you'll need to be in their good graces.'
While looking around, Harrison almost bumped into his headmaster when the man came to a stop. Luckily he was able to steady himself and find that they had reached a stand at the back of the room. Dumbledore smiled pleasantly at the creature and just waited.
After a moment, he began to hum quietly to himself, the smile never leaving his lips.
Harrison stared at him like he was insane. The thing – goblin, right – was noting something down and seemed more than happy to ignore them which upset him. A Dursley wasn't ignored. Harrison looked between them before hesitating. He sucked in a breath, squared his shoulders and stepped out of Dumbledore's shadow to approach the desk. "I'm sorry, sir," he said as kindly and innocently as he could, smiling softly at the thing when it looked up.
Harrison wanted to whither under the irritated glance of the ugly creature, but placed the polite and happy mask he had mastered as a kid in place. "I don't mean to interrupt you, sir," he told the goblin respectfully, but I've never been to this bank before. Could you tell me how to go about making a withdrawal from a trust fund left to me by my parents?"
The creature eyes him darkly and his voice was pure cruelty when he replied, "What is your name, boy?"
Keeping his father's words in mind and ignoring the disappointed look the headmaster shot him, Harrison replied, "My legal name is Harrison Dursley, sir. But my biological name is Harry Potter."
Those black eyes narrowed as they glared down at him. "Harry Potter," he hissed out. Harrison couldn't tell if he was maliciously happy or inexcusably offended. He leaned back in his seat and rested one long hand against his cheek as he eyed Harrison. "Not many wizards would address a goblin as 'Sir,' Mr. Potter."
Harrison smiled. "I am not like a normal wizard, sir."
A vicious smile appeared slowly, sharp teeth gleaming from the creatures mouth. "Indeed not." He seemed amused, Harrison thought, but he couldn't be sure. "Very well. Do you have your key?"
His key? Before he could ask, Dumbledore cleared his throat, getting the attention of the little creature. "I have it right here," he responded, taking out a key and laying it on the desk in front of them.
Harrison's eyes narrowed on the gold key. Why did Dumbledore have his key? What kind of headmaster keeps the keys of student's bank accounts? He's have to find out, he knew as he turned to glare at the old man suspiciously.
"There's something else, too, if you don't mind," he continued and took out an envelope to hand to the man. He appeared at ease, but Harrison had to wonder at that when, upon seeing the envelope, the goblin seemed to pale.
"Of course," it said suddenly. He turned and motioned behind him to another goblin Harrison hadn't spotted and resisted a sneer at the thing. "Griphook, takes these two to vault 713 and 687."
The new goblin, Griphook apparently, nodded obediently to the one who must have been his superior. He turned to Harrison and Dumbledore and motioned them towards a hallway. "Follow me, please." His voice was higher than expected and Harrison blinked in surprise.
Turning to the first creature, and spotting the name plate, Harrison put on a small smile. "Thank you, sir," he said with a polite nod in respect and followed the retreating figures down the hall. He didn't see Castiron's stare following him quizzically.
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