Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Harry Potter.
A massive thank you to kenziescott54 for betaing this.
Thank you to everyone who has followed / favorited / read / reviewed the story so far.
The very thing Dumbledore hadn't wanted to happen was happening.
The Daily Prophet had reported Harry was missing - who knew how they had found that out - and speculation was rife through the Wizarding world. It wasn't nine o'clock in the morning yet, and so far he'd been threatened by both Minerva and Poppy. Apparently, if, Harry got so much as a scratch, Dumbledore was going to find himself in great discomfort.
He didn't know why everyone was looking at him as if it were his fault Harry had disappeared.
He had set everyone he could trust on the case of trying to find him. So far the trail was cold; he'd left Privet Drive for school and never arrived. And that was all anyone had to go on.
So everything he thought he knew about his parents was a lie.
His parents hadn't died in a car accident, and the Dursleys had stooped so low as to keep how they really died from him. He could just about forgive them for not telling him he was a Wizard, but the lies about his parents were unforgivable, because it wasn't just Harry they fed their lies to. Everyone who knew the Dursleys believed that his dad was a workshy drunk and his mum was weak in the head.
But not a word of it was true.
Finding out the truth left Harry torn between anger and sadness. Anger at the Dursleys, and sad at how long it had taken for him to find out the truth.
He was sad that it had taken this long for him to find out the truth. That not one of his parents friends had bothered to visit him over the years to tell him the truth.
His new friends, sensing his distress, respectfully kept their distance for a while, letting Harry think on his own. After a while, though, Quill came creeping to Harry's side and whispered,
"If Harry Potter is quite well now, Quill and his friends would like some help with a business venture?"
For the last two years Maya had been selling "Priceless Goblin Made Artifacts" to someone called Lucius Malfoy. In reality, this Lucius was forking out a fortune for scrap metal that had been melted down and made into weapons, jewelry, and other things. Apparently, only goblins could tell the difference between real goblin made items and fakes, and as Maya was a goblin, she was able to convince Lucius that she really knew what she was talking about.
The latest thing Lucius had asked Maya to get him, however, was not an artifact at all. It was an elixir, made by Goblins, that was illegal for Wizards to have. It was supposed to help him with something.
Harry tried to find out from Achan exactly what the elixir was supposed to do, but Achan refused to tell him. "You're not old enough, lad," he kept saying. "I'll tell you when you've become a bit more...ah...mature."
"I'm quite mature enough now!" Harry protested.
"You are not!" said Achan, looking uncomfortable. "Perhaps I'll tell you when you hit….er, puberty."
Of course, Harry's friends weren't planning give Lucius the real thing, and it was Harry's job to pick the grossest things he could find to go into the elixir. He knew that they were including him to try and cheer him up, and he was extremely grateful; he set himself to his task with a will.
"So, what've you chosen?" asked Achan gleefully. Harry had always imagined ghosts to be sad, miserable, mourning things; but Achan was nothing like that. He was the most lighthearted and cheery of the entire party.
"I've got rat droppings, mustard from the back of the pantry - I dunno how old it is, looks ancient - a tonic to help with constipation, toothpaste and a jar of hair potion," answered Harry, looking at the label on the last item. "Gives life to the dullest of locks."
"Great job, Harry!" Achan said, almost exultantly. He seemed to be extremely pleased at the idea of Lucius Malfoy drinking a horrible potion that wasn't going to do what he wanted at all. "Now Quill will make this up, Maya will give it to Malfoy, and I'll see if I can teach you about the finest game to be invented. It's called Quidditch."
Once the bottle had been emptied, Quill had charmed it on Maya's command to show a message where the label had been. As it turned out, the bottle was found by Lucius' wife, whose name was Narcissa, because her husband was occupied on the toilet. She gave the bottle to Severus, who was now reading the label to Dumbledore.
Dear Murdering Scumbag - or may I just call you Lucius,
If you are reading this then you drank some of that Elixir. Hopefully you are having some horrible side effects. I feel that our association has how run its course. My biggest regret is that you were not of the three Death Eaters I killed.
Maya
P.S I find it quite amusing that the Boy-Who-Lived also had a hand in this.
"So Harry is with the goblin Maya?" Dumbledore mused aloud.
"It would seem so, Headmaster," answered Severus.
"Well, no one knows where she is hiding. The important thing, Severus, is that we can be relatively sure that Harry is safe. This goblin, Maya, hates the Dark Lord; he was responsible for wiping out her family."
"I have heard about what she did to the Death Eaters involved," Severus answered sullenly. "And from what Narcissa told me, Lucius wants that goblin's head on served on a silver platter for this. Really, how safe can she keep Harry?"
"I am sure," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling, "that once Lucius' hair grows back and he is able to leave the toilet, he will calm down considerably."