Kaleido Star was created by Junichi Sato and written by Reiko Yoshida while HP belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Oh crap is thoughts or memories.
'...right, never mind me,' is speaking.
'I loathe the way you do that.' is epenthesizing the word "loathe"
"Dear, whoever you are," is reading something either website or letter.
"equalled" is Australian.
"equaled" is American. (I actually have a proper book to tell me Australian vs American language now! \(=A=)/)
I appologise in advance about how long this chapter is, it's just I wanted to do everything in one day (chapter wise anyway) and then it just snowballed down from there. I hope nobody minds.
And we still aren't even in America yet, even if it kills me by God Harry is going to go to America in the next chapter! I'll do it with my dying will!
Chapter 6
The next day Harry realised his fatal flaw in his plans. How in Merlin's name was he meant to get the funds for a passport and probably an airplane ticket to California? Harry didn't know the exact prices for an airplane ticket but he did know that it was pretty expensive from what he remembered from his childhood compared to a car trip to the country.
Harry needed funds and quick.
However it wasn't like he could ask for money from Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon and he didn't want to steal either because they would defiantly notice that much quid missing from their draws.
Well actually Harry knew where he could get funds from but he had no way of getting to Gringotts bank in the first place as it either costed money that Harry didn't have or a lot of begging towards his aunt which he didn't want to do.
Harry let out a pained groaned and balled his fists into his eyes as he lay on his bed.
Why was everything so hard to do on short notice? If only I had the rest of the summer I wouldn't need to rush everything. Come on, think Harry, how can you get to London quick?
The first thing that came to mind was the Knight Bus but how would Harry be able to afford the ride?
Not to mention Aunt Petunia would probably stop being nice to him if she found out that he was using magic related things again after he told her he wanted a break from it all. Maybe if he started to walk right now he could be in London by tomorrow?
The door to his room slammed open.
Harry froze up. He probably looked wide-eyed as well if he could have a look at himself except he didn't have any mirrors in his room (and what a blessing from Merlin that was, as all of the mirrors he's been with recently keep trying to give him fashion tips).
There standing in his doorway was a baby wha- Harry meant Dudley. Dudley, not a whale, stop thinking of Dudley as a whale. You're going to slip up sometime and really call him a whale if you do that.
'What do you need…Dudley?' said Harry awkwardly as he actually had to remember that Dudley's name was actually Dudley and not a name of an animal. Dudley turned to look out the door as if he was ashamed of even stopping by Harry's door.
'Pothead, I heard that you were getting your freakishness-' Harry flinched when Dudley said "freak" and tried to pretend that the word didn't affect him in any way possible.
'-out of our lives for good. Is that true?'
'Where did you hear that from?' asked Harry warily. If Dudley started to sprout that out around the town then all of his plans could be ruined.
'Mum. She said that you were leaving because you finally realised how much of a disgrace you were to the family,'
Oh how Harry wanted to punch his smug face in just like Hermione did to Malfoy. He was just as annoying as Dudley was right then. Unfortunately Harry couldn't afford to get in trouble, not even for punching Dudley although considering that Dudley had taken up boxing lessons it would still probably end with Harry with a black eye.
'This family wouldn't know the meaning of disgrace if it flashed coloured lights around it and hexed itself,' muttered Harry. The problem with everything going your way was the fact that you tend to forget what a brain-to-mouth filter was sometimes. Harry had plenty of times when this happened in the past and generally his uncle had put a swift lid on that happiness.
'What was that?' said Dudley, squinting his beady eyes at Harry. He still hadn't moved a centimetre from the doorway; in or out of the doorway.
'So what if it is true? Are you here to make fun of me?' said Harry.
'Piers' mum volunteers in a soup kitchen every other week. Piers tells me loads of stories about the type of people that go there. If you do go on the streets you'll probably end up like them, you know?'
'Well done, you know how to use volunteers in a sentence. Are you just telling me this to scare me? Because it isn't like I'm planning on ending up in the streets,'
'Of course you're going to end up in the streets. You're getting kicked out of the house,' said Dudley while rolling his eyes.
That idiot thinks I'm the slow one! Who does he think he is? I'm the one that did part of his homework during Primary School and the one to drink his milk!
'So great to know you think so highly of me that I'll automatically go to the streets. If you're here just to talk about this then you can go,'
'No way! Anyway since I now know you're going to the streets you can have this; it's so you can buy breakfast for the first few days,' said Dudley holding out a ten quid note. Harry stilled whatever retort he was going to say next and tried not to show any weakness like pinching himself. It would be a Dudley thing to pretend to give him money and take it back immediately or even tell his father later so Harry would be kicked out of the house faster.
Harry drew his eyebrows together as he processed what was exactly going on.
'Get. Out.'
'What?! I'm giving you a tenner and you tell me to-'
'Get out, Dudley. I'm not going to fall for that trick,'
'What are-'
'The trick where you get me in trouble later for stealing your money that you gave me. I fell for that once before, I'm not going to fall for it again. So, just get out,'
'I'm going to leave it right-' said Dudley slowly moving backwards with his eyes wide open but not much of the blue colour was able to be seen as he let the note fall to the ground of Harry's room.
'Out!' shouted Harry. He watched his vicious satisfaction that Dudley took off running.
'Why now?' groaned Harry with his fists in his eyes again. He was so close as well. He didn't want their attention now.
He didn't want them approving of him for the first time what had to be at least twelve years or ever actually as he didn't have many memories from before he was five (the memories of his mother dying and Hagrid flying him over not withstanding).
If only they can leave me be. If they leave me be then I can forget that I was ever given to this family. Why?
Harry looked at the ten quid note that was lying on the ground. If his aunt or uncle catches that note around his bedroom then he was screwed. He could say goodbye to all of his dreams right now and-
His dreams.
Harry let out a string of magical swears as silently as he could.
He needed to do so much but there was so little time and why didn't he ask for Hermione's Time Turner before they destroyed the Department of Mysteries?
He could have a version of himself right now in London if only he had a Time Turner.
Harry sighed as he got up from his bed.
I might as well take the ten pounds and hide it somewhere.
He hid the money under the loose floor board in his room because the Dursleys' would never look under the floor boards to check if he was hiding things.
It was almost noon and it was so boring for Harry just to be lazing around his room. He should be out somewhere but his body was stilling him to just laze around like a good for nothing Aunt Petunia always called him, besides it wasn't like he had any mone-
Harry could hit himself. Quite honestly the urge to bang his head against a wall was quite high at the moment. He spent the whole day moping around because he didn't have any money to use to get to London and what happens when he does get money? He still mopes around as if he didn't have any money.
Harry grabbed the tenner with a few coins that he was able to find and stuffed it in his rolled up pants what were at least two sizes too big for him, swinging an old worn out backpack on his shoulder and took the stairs, two at a time, to the first floor.
'Aunt Petunia I'm going out for a while! I'll probably be back by dinner!' yelled out Harry as he raced out the door, not giving any time for his aunt to respond. He already knew if he was late for dinner that he probably won't be having anything to eat despite the fact that his aunt throws away any scraps of food from dinner in the bin if they weren't eaten by then.
It was a good four kilometres to the bus station from the Dursleys' house but that didn't stop Harry from running all the way there. The downside to that was he hadn't run that far in five years and was rather unfit to make such a long distance run without warning.
As Harry tried to get his breath back from the far distance running that he could have had sworn he could do a few years ago (and maybe Quidditch wasn't the best sport to keep in shape admittedly) he looked for the signs of if the bus had came yet or was going to come anytime soon.
There wasn't any.
Harry groaned as he looked at the bus timetable that showed all the important buses and where they were headed and if Harry remembered correctly he was looking for a bus that was headed to Guildford so he could catch the train to London.
Four hundred and seventy-eight, right I need the four-seven-eight bus to Guildford…
Harry felt a heavy weight in his stomach when he realised that the four hundred and seventy-eight bus to Guildford comes at 12:03pm or rather did come at 12:03pm as Harry wasn't quite sure about the time as he didn't have a watch on him. He did however know that it was pass or around noon from the shadows on the ground.
All Harry wanted to do now was curl up into a ball, he was going to miss the bus, be late to get money from his Gringotts account and not be able to take a passport photo as well as be late to get his photo signed and-
…and Aunt Petunia was not able to sign those photos. She was blood related, only strangers that knew him for a long time were able to sign photos right?
He had no one like that as no adults willingly spent time with him when he was growing up and all the adults that he knew now were magical, which Harry defiantly did not want them signing them as they could figure out what he wanted the passport photos for.
Harry covered his ears and closed his eyes, just listening to his heartbeat that could be heard from his hands. Just concentrating on that sound and slowly, ever so slowly, relaxed.
A hand touched his shoulder without the backpack strap on it and he froze immediately, stiffing up then relaxing (it only hurt more if you stiffened up, relaxing and going with the movement was the best way. The less resistance the better for everyone involved).
'Watcha kid, alright?' said the voice connected to the hand on his shoulder.
'Er, yeah, I'm all right. All right?' said Harry, his eyes now open, looking at the older female with wispy grey and red hair.
Probably what Mrs Weasley's hair is going to look like in the future.
'Yea' I'm alrigh' too. Anyway, wha' bus are ya' waitin' for?' said the older woman, softly with kind eyes that seemed like the norm for many women her age.
Defiantly Mrs Weasley in her older age, next thing I know she'll probably be forcing food down my stomach.
'Er, four hundred and seventy-eight to Guildford,' said Harry awkwardly.
'Mam,' Harry tacked on the end when he realised that he didn't know the proper term to address an older woman like this.
Would it have had been this awkward if I knew any of my grandmothers?
The older woman shot out a bark of a laugh that sounded a bit wet at the end and trailed into a few deep coughing fits allowing Harry to see her yellow stained teeth.
'Sorry, I've got a bit of a cough lately so I sound wet but ya' don' need to add on the end "mam". Ya' parents must to be proud of ya' for usin' such manners, 'though I've never been called "mam" by a kid these days. The rest of 'em are cheeky these days. Luckily for ya' I went and stopped the bus to see how ya' were doin', if I hadn' then I would have had gone straight passed ya' and ya' would have had missed the bus,' said the red and grey streaked woman.
No it wouldn't have had been so awkward with a grandmother around…
'Wait? What bus?' said Harry as he took a step back to see that behind the old woman there was actually a bus, a rather normal sized bus perfect for carrying thirty people on board with a few people already on board and looking quite annoying or indifferent to the fact the bus had stopped.
How in Merlin's name did I not notice the bus right behind her?
'Yea', the four hundred and seventy-eight, ya' quite lucky for lil' old me to have stopped. I thought ya' were havin' some kind of mental breakdown and I couldn't leave ya' there,'
'Yeah, I thought I missed the bus,'
This sent the old woman into another laughing fit complete with wet cough at the end.
'Ya' a strange kid, havin' a mental break down for missin' a bus. Oh well, chivvy alon' we don't have much time to waffle 'though I'm easy but my boss ain't! Now let's get on shall we?' said the old woman cheerfully.
Harry cracked a weak smile at the thought of being called strange but got on the four hundred and seventy-eight all the same.
'That's one ninety for the ticket. Take seat over from me so I can keep an eye on ya', someone has to wit' these polite boys otherwise ya'll be takin' in by the bad ones and we need all the good boys we can get,' said the woman in an loud and over cheerful voice though she still had the kind look to her eyes that Professor Dumbledore didn't and keep eye contact with him the entire time even when he handed over the tenner and got his change back.
Maybe that's because she seems to be happier than Professor Dumbledore?
'Have ya' been bored by old woman stories yet?' asked the woman as she put the bus into gear and started off on the road.
'Er, no, I can't say that I have unless you count Mrs Figg down the road,'
'I don't know about any "Mrs Figg" but I can tell ya' stories that will make ya' blinkered brain try and leg it to get away from the boredom,'
Harry suddenly realised why she seemed different from Professor Dumbledore; she didn't have an ulterior motive like war but instead she wanted company. Something warm filled him, only a little bit but it was enough for him to feel warm. It felt like what he felt when he was with his friends; tiny bubbles that popped to release happiness and warm himself up inside. He was wanted merely for his company and what made him feel better was that this woman didn't know who he was or what he did in his past but wanted his company anyway.
'Talk all you want but you can't do that because I'm sure your stories will be great,' said Harry with a small blush on his face.
Oh Merlin why did I say that? It was so embarrassing!
The older woman sent out another round of wet laughter as she concentrated on the road.
'Wha' a lil' charmer ya' are but sure, if ya' want me to bore ya' then it's fine. Let's see, what about the time during my childhood…'
Harry listened to the stories from the old woman as they washed over him, giving him a small bit of something that he couldn't name as he absorbed everything. He didn't know what the something was but figured he felt it before.
If I had a grandmother to talk to before this it wouldn't have had been so awkward at the start but as I don't have one…I don't think that I would have had appreciated as much…
The bus ride didn't have any major slip ups and didn't stop for very long unlike when the bus driver, Mrs Rosemary Richmond
("At least call me Aunt Rosemary if ya' can't call me Rosemary,"
"I'm sorry I just- I'm not comfortable calling you by your first name Mrs Richmond,"
"And ya' make me uncomfortable by callin' me Mrs Richmond, it makes me sound older than I am and no woman wants to be their true age,"
"I really don't feel comfortable calling you by your first name,"
"Then call me Mrs Rosemary"
"But that's your first name! It feels like it's your last name now!"
"Exactly. Ya' will be callin' me by first name by this bus trip kid,"
"How about I just call you Mrs Rosemary Richmond?"
"That's quite a mouthful, are ya' sure?"
"More sure of anything in my life,"), finally stopped to let the people going to Guildford out.
'Now ya' be a good boy and leg it to the train station, ya' only have a few moments now otherwise ya' train will be gone and don't ya' forget my stories ya' hear! Cherrio!' said Mrs Rosemary Richmond.
'I won't Mrs Rosemary Richmond! Bye!' said Harry as he got off the bus before walking straight back in for directions of where to go for the train station earning another wet laughter.
Harry ran to the train station hoping that the train hadn't already went yet but that hope was dimly lit.
The ticket booth was only manned by one person who looked incredibly bored for a person who worked during the school holidays when there should be a good fifty students roaming around eager to go to London for the day.
'Ticket for one to London,' said Harry as he huffed and puffed all over the screen separating the two people. The guy who was behind the counter glared at Harry for having the audacity of breathing all over where he was working before asking for the money.
'W-what? Could you repeat that?' said Harry with his jaw hanging. This earned him another glare from the guy and really he wasn't that older than Harry and he didn't need to put up with this.
'Ten quid for the 1:15pm train,' said the annoyed looking guy.
'Has the one o'clock train already gone?' asked Harry as he riffed through his pockets for the change he got and the few coins he happened to find at the Dursley's place.
'Well it's a little late now since it's almost ready to go,'
'I want the one o'clock train,'
'Look if we do that then you can't get a refund since it probably has ready left,'
'Has it left?'
'No-'
'Then I can still make it,'
'Your money,' said the guy nonchalantly before printing out a ticket while Harry dumped all his change on the counter and hoped he had enough for the ticket.
Just enough.
He had just enough money for the ticket but nothing else now and if he couldn't get to Gringotts then he really was homeless. He doubted that the Dursleys would travel all the way up to London just to pick him up.
'You better leg it because we don't do refunds for twits,' said the guy and Harry had the strong urge to make a hand gesture that would have had been unfit for any older woman to see however Harry had a train to catch.
'Prat!' shouted Harry as he ran with his ticket and it probably wasn't the best idea to do to a person that allows you to catch trains and doesn't refund you but it did make Harry feel slightly less annoyed in general.
'Last call for the Class four hundred and fifty-five to Waterloo, London to board. Last call for the Class four hundred and fifty-five to Waterloo, London to board,' rang a voice throughout the train station in a distinct female voice. It just made Harry run that much faster for the train.
The door had almost just shut when Harry put his hand through the gap and kept it there as the door shut on his hand with his other hand on his mouth to muffle the small scream that came from his throat and very possible choice of words towards the person that shut the door.
Merlin's beard!
'All right?' asked a voice and Harry felt a great weight off of his hand.
'Yeah, all right?' said Harry though his voice was higher pitch than it normally was and maybe a bit hoarser but Harry ignored those things.
'You got a ticket for this train?' and, now that Harry could see the person he was talking to and not just a cluster of pain inside his head, it turned out to be an older man with dull brown hair who probably had as much fat on him as he did muscles with a belly as well wearing an odd yellow and white sleeveless cardigan over his working clothing.
'Yes, it's right here,' said Harry showing the crimped up paper from his hand and showed it to the guy.
'You best be getting in though try not to do that again, I imagine it was rather painful since we need to slam these doors shut up tight to avoid people trying to unlock the doors themselves,'
'Yeah, I noticed that,' said Harry as he cradled his hand to his chest and hoped to Merlin he didn't break anything.
'Sarcastic one, aren't you? Well chivvy along we're on a tight schedule now,' said the man as he pulled Harry through the door before he closed it back up again.
'Well? Go find yourself a seat and I'll keep this part-' the man held up a short part of the ticket he had torn off '- and you keep the rest,'
Harry just grabbed his part of the ticket and left to find a seat on the train. He didn't even manage to run that far as the bus stop and train station were only five minutes from each other and the bus ride to Guildford was fifty minutes long.
He found two empty seats after looking for them next to a woman and her young child and dumped his bag next on the chair next to him so no one else could sit there while listening to the excited chatter of the young girl.
It was going to be a long time until I get to Waterloo thought Harry as he listened to the young girl and the sound of metal scrapping against metal.
It was a long time, almost an hour for the train to get to Waterloo.
Harry yawned as he walked out of the train, his hand still throbbing a bit, and rubbed his eyes a little to get rid of the sleepy feeling. He stretched out his arms as far as they could go almost hitting other people as they walked by and called him various names that he heard all before.
He wondered around a bit looking for a map, because surely they must have a map here even if only tourists use it. There was one showing the map of London with a huge red tag saying "You are here" on it to indicate where you were on the map.
Harry hovered around it using his finger to trace where he needed to go to walk there as he currently didn't have any money on him.
If I trace my finger on this map one more time I think I'll be tracing it in my dreams.
Harry sighed before starting on his walk. It would have had been more interesting to just walk around and see all the tourist sites if he wasn't on a dead line and it was almost 2:10pm according to a clock within the station.
Harry groaned as he made a wrong turn again onto a street that was either the opposite side of what street he wanted to go on or was on the opposite end of the street and just wasn't paying much attention to the street names too much.
Luckily for Harry it was just the opposite side instead.
Straight then turn right at the next traffic light, keep going straight then turn left then diagonally and Charing Cross should be…
'…right here,' murmured Harry as he turned onto the right street and travelled straight looking for The Leaky Cauldron. It was, of course, on the other side of the street forcing Harry to Jay-Walk across to get to the pub.
He paused for a moment allowing the natural cover of the magic hiding The Leaky Cauldron hopefully (he should really check behind the spells of stuff like this or even help Hermione with the search) wash over him before he actually took in his appearance in the reflection of one of the semi-dirty windows.
Harry then realised what a bad idea this truly was. He still looked like himself. He wasn't even wearing any cloaks or anything and only had his wand tucked in his bag to help him. He didn't even know if Voldemort had attacked anyone recently! He needed to look different and fast.
Harry took off his glasses and placed them in his pocket, he hoped they wouldn't smash, and messed up his hair so that his fringe was in the way of his eyes, and hopefully over his scar, before making his eyes look droopy and kept his eyes to the ground.
He shuffled in through the door and just kept walking with his back hunched over and hands by his side.
'Wotcher! You!' said a semi-familiar voice of Tom, the Landlord of The Leaky Cauldron. Harry tried not to look at Tom just in case he went spreading around the rumours that he was there.
'Y-yes?' said Harry in a lower octave and tried to make himself sound as hoarse as possible on short notice. He also added in some coughing to keep Tom away from him.
'Where's ya' cloak?' asked Tom as his feet shuffled around.
'I-I've f-f-f-forgotten it, sir,' said Harry in what he thought was the worst impersonation of Professor Quirrell that he ever heard, not that he wanted to sound like Professor Quirrell or even impersonate him.
'Her' I'll lend ya' on'. Jus' don' be forgettin' it again. Thes' are dark times especially if ya' goin' ou' ther' an' don' go afta' the person who robs ya',' said Tom as he moved away, presumably to get him a cloak.
Harry took this opportunity to look around the pub. There were considerably less people around than usual and all the people who he did look at stopped talking before continue talking but in lower tones when he looked away.
'This is bollocks! Who does Potter think he is? Doesn't he know this isn't a game? Look at this Lyrae!' said an angry man in one of the corners with a female companion with him, his face was flushed red and Harry got ready to bolt from him, especially as he was talking about him.
'Look at what is on the cover, right on the cover! This is disgraceful! Look at what he is doing to our community! Doesn't he know better? What kind of education did he have before going to Hogwarts?' ranted on the red-faced man who waved a newspaper back and forth as if to prove his argument or at least Harry thought that was what he was doing since he couldn't see the object clearly just a whole lot of red around where the face was meant to be, white swaying around (it could also have had been a wand for all Harry knew), a black cloak and skin colour.
'Gruis! Stop making a scene, you're scaring people!' said the woman, Lyrae, over to the male from where she was sitting although Harry first mistook her for part of the furniture at the pub and couldn't quite see where she began and where the chair ended.
'I don't care! This boy has to know his place! I've put up with the disgraceful love triangle a few years back and his claims that he-who-shall-not-be-named was back but he brought all of this on us! He claimed that the Death Eaters were in action again and what happens? We now have Death Eaters all around us! The Ministry was right to say he was delusional, what do you think would happen to us if he thinks that we're not worth anything to him and rather have us die? He could very well wish it so, you never know with that boy,' said Gruis before taking another drink out of his cup or something like that.
Harry tensed up as he realised this was exactly what the guy was talking about. Here he was in this pathetic disguise trying to get money out of Gringotts to walk away from everything just to make his dream come true.
'Gruis, stop drinking already! You're making us look bad,' hissed Lyrae, which sounded louder than any of the shouting that Gruis did.
'I'll bad mouth him as much as I want!' shouted Gruis.
'I'm sorry to say this but I need to ask ya' to get out of her',' said Tom all of a sudden.
'What?' asked Gruis as he drew his wand from a casing near his waist.
'I can stand ya' drunk'n ramblings but ya' have seem to have had forgott'n that the Wizardin' World owes a great deb' to 'arry Potter from getting' rid of he-who-shall-not-be-named in the first place. So please get out and don' com' back until ya've gott'n a better appreciation of 'arry Potter,' said Tom, his back was hunched (that much Harry could see) and he had a spare cloak on one of his arms (probably) but he never looked to powerful and superior to anyone Harry knew for ages.
He looked calm and in control of everything, not even breaking a sweat when Gruis poked him in the cheek with either a wand or the newspaper or when the wand lit up ready to have a spell placed upon him (it was a wand in his face as not even Harry thought that newspapers could light up).
'Gruis, let's go already. I did not come here just for you to get drunk on me,' said Lyrae before walking over to the bar and placing something (probably the money that was owed) on the bar and walking out. Gruis growled before walking after her.
Tom walked over to Harry and Harry suddenly remembered to look at the ground.
'Her' but I'll walk ya' up to the gate just in case,' said Tom handing over the cloak, which Harry quickly tied on to hide his Muggle clothing.
'T-thanks,' said Harry as he watched his feet head in the direction of the alleyway of the pub and Diagon Alley. It was quite a dizzy feeling watching his feet, when all his feet were to him were a blur of colour.
They walked in silence until they got to the alleyway and Harry rummaged through his backpack to find his wand.
'Wha' I said ther', it was all true. We do have a great deb' ta' 'arry Potter even if some don' remember that. Ya' should pull up da' hood so nobody sees ya' face. I'll tap for ya' but don' place ya' wand back, keep it on ya' at all times. Thes' are dark times and are only getting' darker,' said Tom before waiting to make sure Harry had pulled up his hood and turning to the wall to tap the wall in the correct order.
The wall slowly opened up to allow Harry through as he slowly walked through.
'Good luck, Mr Potter,' whispered Tom as Harry walked passed him leaving Harry with a quickened heartbeat and he turned around but the wall had already closed. Harry decided to quickly pass through Diagon Alley, which wasn't hard as almost everything was bare and looked like a ghost street with many wanted flyers stuck on the walls.
Harry went up to examine a few…and then a few more…and another wall just to check again.
Quite a lot of the walls still had Sirius Black wanted on them lined up with other criminals, quite commonly Bellatrix Lestrange. It made Harry want to tear them down in anger, to collect all the wanted posters of his Godfather and keep them safe, to burn all of the flyers of Bellatrix Lestrange but he didn't. He couldn't afford to do that with Gringotts so close to him that he could almost touch the marble building.
There were more armed Goblins stationed around the building, eying strangers that got too close to the building even the ones on business.
Harry tried not to shiver as he passed one and through his blurred vision raised something pointy to him.
You fear, fear itself. You fear, fear itself. You fear, fear itself. You don't fear blurred vision or pointy objects that you can't make out.
Harry calmly walked to a teller as there wasn't much business around that time.
'My name is Gibberspike. What do you want?' asked the Goblin giving Harry a sneer before going back to weighting some gems with a few bars of metal.
'I wish to go to my account, I want to make a withdrawal,' said Harry trying not to take it personally that the Goblin thought that the gems were more important than Harry.
'Do you have your key?' asked Gibberspike, it sounded quite patronising actually. Harry couldn't tell if Gibberspike could out patronise Snape or not.
'Well, no but I do have identification,' said Harry and really hoped that what he had planned would work.
'No key, no withdrawal,' said Gibberspike as he glared at Harry as if insulted that he didn't have a key ready beforehand.
Harry looked both ways before pulling his hood off and grabbing his glasses from his pocket (they weren't broken) and putting them on. He also pulled his fringe up to show his scar.
'No key, no withdrawal,' repeated Gibberspike, not in the least interested in the fact Harry tried to identify himself in such a way.
'How can I identify myself then?' asked Harry, annoyed that it didn't work.
'A key or a blood ritual identification,' said Gibberspike and Harry felt his hopes being crushed. A key that he did not have and doesn't know where it is or a blood ritual, which he had been reassured by Ron many times, is a dark art that only dark wizards use.
'Merlin's beard,' whispered Harry as he realised why nobody really likes Goblins. They're dark creatures. Harry swallows and opened his mouth before closing it again.
'I-I'll go with the blood ritual,' said Harry, his voice was shaking as he realised he was probably going to go to Azkaban now. Gibberspike looked at Harry and gave him the most terrifying grin ever full of teeth that a shark would be envious of.
'Riperblade! Show this young man to the blood ritual identification office,' shouted Gibberspike towards what seemed to be a small army of Goblins, all lined up in a row before one of them walked forward and toward Harry.
It was one thing to see a Goblin with a sharp weapon that you were walking towards when you have no glasses on and it is quite another to see a Goblin with a sharp weapon walking towards you.
It was like comparing night and day; no matter what time it is there is still a sky.
So this comparison goes like: it was like comparing walking to and standing still; there was still a Goblin with a sharp weapon at the end of it.
Harry had to resist the idea of running away or drawing his wand or something else stupid like that.
'Over this way,' said Riperblade before walking away again leaving Harry with his jaw hanging and wasn't that the most anti-climatic meeting ever?
Harry couldn't help notice that Riperblade had a low and quite mean (by mean Harry meant dangerous) sounding voice like he just came out of killing a few humans and wasn't bothered at all with killing another one, or was that just Harry over thinking things?
Harry had to run after Riperblade because despite being shorter than Harry by about half his height (not that he was particularly tall) the Goblin moved rather fast. Riperblade had to stop and wait for Harry a few times before Harry started to just jog to keep up with Riperblade.
What are they putting in their water? I wonder if it works on humans…
A few long twists and turns brought the pair to an office merely labelled "Blood Ritual Office" on a plaque next to the door.
'In here,' said Riperblade, though it was more like he just grunted out all of the words, and stood waiting until Harry stepped into the office. Riperblade had to wait a few minutes before Harry went through and probably committed a serious offence to the Wizarding World.
The office wasn't what Harry expected for it to be, for one it wasn't a cave and didn't have a huge cauldron where dark wizards meet up. It appeared to be a simple cream office with stone tables and a Goblin sitting behind the table with many pieces of parchment on every flat surface.
'Hello, my name is Rustslice, what are you in here for?' said Rustslice and it would have had been a friendly opener apart from the fact that Rustslice had a worst sneer than Gibberspike and by worst Harry meant more effective.
'Er, blood ritual,' said Harry.
'Just when I thought you humans couldn't get any stupider they create you,' said Rustslice before giving Harry a glare.
'I meant what type of blood ritual are you in here for, not what you are in here for,'
'Oh! Identification, I'm in here for a-'
'Save it, all I needed to know was that it was an identification blood ritual. Who are you claiming to be?'
'I'm not claiming to be anyone, I am Harry Potter -'
'Come over here,' said Rustslice and by Merlin if that Goblin interrupted Harry one more time he was going to hex the thing, what Hermione says or not!
'At least you can follow instructions,' muttered Rustslice to what appeared to be himself but Harry could still hear him. To think about it Harry hadn't really remembered if there was a difference between Rustslice, Gibberspike or Riperblade. They all seemed to look alike apart from what they were carrying or wearing.
'I hope you do know you are aware that you are getting charged seven sickles per a minute? So for your sake I hope that you are who you say you are,' said Rustslice and maybe Rustslice was more deserving in being called "Snape" than Gibberspike was or ever will be if he keeps this up.
'I need to draw blood from you, so hold your wrist over this bowl and don't say a word. I detest people that talk because they're nervous and my knife might slip, which will also come out on your fees for not getting your blood in the bowl,' If Snape was ever a Goblin and a banker Harry was pretty sure he'd turn out to be like Rustslice. Harry still did what he was told though.
Harry clenched his teeth together and took in deep breaths to relieve the pain of his left wrist being sliced open and Harry really hoped they had something better than a bandaid to cover that up with.
However to Harry's amazement his cut healed over as soon as the knife was taken away from the cut area while the blood from the wound dripped into the bowl from his wrist. It was actually a bit scary and fascinating to see his blood act that way. Harry tried tilting his wrist downwards so that the actual wrist part would hang over the table but it kept its place just dripping the last amount of blood into the bowl and completely ignoring gravity.
'Do you want for me to slice your wrist off? If I do that then you can't get your wrist back as it will heal over,' said Rustslice with his hand grasping the knife in a threatening manner which made Harry forget about his weird fixture with his blood in favour of cradling his wrist to his chest.
Huh, this feels familiar, what I'm doing currently…I wonder why?
Rustslice started to chant in a language Harry wasn't familiar with and was probably dead with a long history of being used. The bowl flashed a blue colour and Harry knew he was in for Azkaban now. He just participated in a blood ritual.
'It seems that you are indeed Mr Potter, though I still despair for the humans' sake if this is how you act,' said Rustslice as he reached into the bowl and pulled out a key and a piece of paper. Harry stared at the key then the bowl and back to the key.
'Your key and this transaction will be taken straight out of your vault, would you like to see your lineage or will this be all for now?' asked Rustslice as he held out the key to Harry to take. Harry ran his eyes over the piece of paper (My lineage) before dragging his eyes back to key. He wasted enough time here already.
Next time, next time I will have a look but if I look now I won't put it down until next week.
Harry cleared his thorat.
'No that will be all for today, can someone take me to my vault and how do you do Galleon to muggle money converting?'
'Galleon to muggle money…we'll show you to your vault first then we'll get someone to transfer your money. Now get out so I can go back to work, Riperblade is still out there waiting for you,' said Rustslice before turning his attention to Harry's lineage paper. It didn't take a Kneazle to know that he had been dismissed.
When Harry got out of the office with his key in hand he almost jumped because standing there as if he didn't move (he probably didn't thought Harry amazed) was Riperblade.
'This way,' said Riperblade as he led the both of them back to the front part of the building.
'You're back again? Do you have your key?' asked Gibberspike from his counter. Harry was startled by his voice and the fact he was talking to him (but still not looking at him) as Riperblade went back to his place in the small army.
Harry walked over to the teller where Gibberspike was and handed over his key. Gibberspike inspected it before muttering to himself, better than Rustslice was anyway, and nodding.
'Very well, we shall go to your vault,' said Gibberspike as he placed a "closed" sign on the counter and climbed down from his teller. Harry was forced to awkwardly wait for Gibberspike to meet him where he was.
'Don't you have people for that? I mean other Goblins to show me to my vault?' asked Harry as he thought of his first time going to the bank.
'We do but we also have no business as everyone is currently in hiding. There is only so much gem examining that a Goblin can do before we are examining the same gems over and over again,' said Gibberspike as he walked in front of Harry and if Harry had to guess his facial expression it probably would have had been sneering.
The ride down to Harry's vault was as excited as the first time he ever went down however once Harry reached the inside of his vault he found his problem.
'Do you sell any bags that I can place my money in?' said Harry as he awkwardly shuffled his feet around. His backpack was nearly bare threads and seemed as if anything heavier than a stick was placed inside of it the bag would break.
'Our moleskin pouches are for three galleons,'
Harry looked over to the mass of Galleons behind him and back at the Goblin that was trying to sell him a pouch for probably not even a dent in the amount there.
'I guess I'll buy one then,'
'I'll be a moment then,' said Gibberspike as he walked out of the vault leaving Harry alone with his fortune.
I wonder if I could create my own circus with this amount. If I ever survive that is…should I create a will?
Something cleared its throat behind him causing Harry to look.
'Your pouch, the fee has already been deduced from your vault,' said Gibberspike handing the pouch over forcefully and gave Harry a glare.
'Do you know if I can Galleon to Muggle money convert?' asked Harry as he started to fill his pouch with Galleons.
'We can do that at the counter,'
'Ace!'
By the time Harry got out of the bank and out of Diagon Alley into London (he did remember to give back the cloak to Tom however) again it was already around four o'clock by the time he found a public clock anyway. Harry still needed to go to a photo place for a passport and somewhere to eat as well.
He managed to get £875 from one hundred and twenty-five Galleons. He didn't even know that he had one hundred and twenty-five Galleons in his vault! It seemed to diminish some of the Galleons in his vault but there was still quite a lot left in there. All of it was in his moleskin pouch but Harry still felt nervous walking around with that much money on him. You never know who is a pickpocket these days.
Harry found the place to eat first, a small café; it seemed like a quaint place with maroon walls and golden chairs. It also looked quite expensive and Harry felt a little out of place. He wasn't exactly looking smart, not that Harry had ever looked smart in his life apart from the Yule Ball.
Harry decided it was to move on and not bother with the café; he didn't want to waste any of his quid on something that looks like it could cost fifty quid. Instead he tried to look for a shopping mall with any hope a fast food stall. Harry had tried to keep to where the train station was so he could get a quick ride home and get someone to sign his photos, if he ever found the bloody place.
Harry did manage to find a cheaper looking place called "Silverprint Ltd" and it seemed to be full of photography things. Harry adjusted his moleskin pouch to hide it better before walking in.
It was almost empty apart from the person behind the desk and the rows of paper and other things around the place. The whole shop seemed to be made out of wood.
'Watcha, all right?' said the clerk behind the desk. He had a couple of piercings on his ear (which would have had made Aunt Petunia faint) but was immediately countered by his friendly smile, short cropped brown hair and boyish looks. Harry supposed the guy would be good looking to many of the girls back at Hogwarts but something about him just made Harry burn with a sharp and harsh emotion the longer he stared at the guy.
It made him frown.
'Hello, all right? Um, do you do passport photos here?' said Harry hoping that he could get this over and done with.
'No, sorry but we only sell photography items here like printing paper and making photos but we don't do passport photos. We're more of a hobby shop than anything else,' said the guy. Harry tried not to look disappointed but he thinks that he failed at that since the guy gave him a pitying look.
'I'll tell you what; I'll give you directions to get to a Snappy Snap, they do passport photos on the side to raise a bit more money. But it's quite far from here; it'd take you at least half an hour by taxi to get there,'
Harry tried not to give the guy another reason to make him feel pity for Harry but it seemed almost everything yet nothing was on his side.
'I'll ring up a taxi for you,' said the guy before going off to call a taxi using the phone on the desk. Harry tried not to feel suspicious of the guy but so much had happened already and it seemed like the whole world wanted him to go, that or wanted to watch for him to raise his hopes before crushing all of them in one go.
'The taxi will come in a few mo'. Do you mind if I take your photo?' said the guy.
'W-what?' said Harry as he drew his eyebrows together.
'It's my hobby, I take photos of people that come into this shop. I've always thought that a picture tells a thousand words, it's actually my read at uni. Oh-' the guy bent down under the desk for something, giving a groan as he did so, and rummaged around '-I haven't said my name; if my boss saw me he'll be scorning me until the cows come home, the name's David,' said David as he straightened back up holding a heavy looking camera.
'So can I take your photo?' said David eagerly, holding the camera in position.
'I'm sorry I- hmmm I don't like having my photo taken,' said Harry as he looked away from David so he couldn't see what type of expression the guy had in place.
'Hunky-dory , it's fine; some people are just camera shy! This is why I'm always on the other side of the camera,' said David as he carefully placed the camera away. There was a honk from a car outside the shop.
'I guess that's your taxi, you better get in quickly now. Oh! And here's the address, you might be needing it,' said David as he slid a piece of paper that Harry didn't remember seeing before or even see David write on towards Harry.
'Thanks,' said Harry before he pocketed the piece of paper and sent straight outside the shop and into the black taxi waiting for Harry outside.
'Where to?' asked the driver in a harsh and worn out sounding voice as Harry slid in the back. Harry unravelled the piece of paper to check that it really did have an address and handed it over to the taxi driver without a word.
'You don't mind if I call someone, do you?' said the taxi driver as he pulled off the curb and into actual traffic.
'No,' said Harry as he looked outside the window. The rest of the trip in the taxi was in silence and soon enough (with two phone calls that the taxi driver made) the taxi pulled up to a parking spot with a sign saying "NO PARKING NO STANDING" written across it with a threat of a fine if someone was caught. The taxi driver didn't seem to bother with it.
'That'll be forty four quid and thirty-five pence,' said the taxi driver and Harry quickly got out his moleskin pouch and stuck his hand in until he remembered he had to say what he wanted to get his money out. Harry opened the mouth of the pouch wide enough to make it look like he was looking for the money.
'Forty-five quid,' whispered Harry into the bag and nearly got hit in the face with forty-five quid that came rushing up to meet him. He handed over the offending money that tried to hit him in the face with a mental note to take the money out before paying for anything.
The taxi driver looked at him suspiciously but took the money as Harry left the taxi without giving back the change. Harry didn't want the change anyway.
The Snappy Snap shop was across the road, it had at least one other customer inside and Harry had to wait about five minutes before he was served. The process of getting a passport photo was actually quite easy, you go into the side of the shop, take off your glasses, don't smile and face towards the camera. All very easy even for Harry to manage it. The photos were small and came in an envelope afterwards. The cost wasn't that bad either (in Harry's opinion) and Harry ended up paying fourteen quid for the pictures with a promise not to bend them .
By this time Harry was starving and found a small bakery that was just about to close shop and was selling all the stale breads that they didn't want for tomorrow. Harry ended up buying a semi-stale apricot Danish to eat, a Cornish pasty and a chocolate with "white chocolate" pieces in it muffin, whatever white chocolate was. Harry decided he liked white chocolate but it still wasn't as good as the rest of the muffin .
Harry ended up catching another taxi back to Waterloo Station to save time, the fare for the taxi was a lot cheaper than last time and the trip was a lot faster being only 8 minutes .
Harry had to run once again for the train as he was cutting it a lot thinner than last time but was able to board for the train with a few seconds to spare. Those tellers at the train station were a lot harder to convince to allow him to board the train than last time . Maybe he start arriving earlier to board things?
While on the train back Harry snacked on the Cornish pasty that he bought but kept the Danish in case he didn't make it in time for dinner (which seemed to be the case).
Harry caught the last bus back to Surrey on the four hundred and seventy-eight bus but the driver wasn't Mrs Rosemary Richmond again, this driver was male, a bit chubby in places and had darker skin that spoke with a foreign accent and was uninterested in what went on behind him.
When Harry got back into Little Whinging the sun had already set, the lamps on the side of the road were on and some cars were still driving by. How was Harry meant to do anything now? He still needed to find a person that knew him for a long time.
'Oh there you are, Harry! I thought that you got kidnapped by the Death Eaters on my watch!' said a very familiar voice. Harry turned around to see Mrs Figg with a few of her cats around her.
'Mrs Figg!' Harry exclaimed with wide eyes. He wasn't expecting her but if he could just…Mrs Figg knew him for a long time.
Mrs Figg can sign the back of my photos! She's unrelated to me, knew me for a long time and isn't a witch so she's registered!
'I'm sorry Mrs Figg, I didn't know I caused you that much trouble,' said Harry looking at one of her cats that were starting to crawl closer towards him as if ready to pounce. Harry tried to shuffle away from that one so it wouldn't think it was a game but it kept trying to hit its head against his leg or use his leg as a post to climb on (which really hurt by the way).
'Oh! Fata must really like you! She's new, got given to me by an old friend a few months ago,' said Mrs Figg as she watched one of her cats climb all over Harry causing him to wince.
'Mrs Figg can you do me a favour?' asked Harry as he allowed the creature to use him as a scratching post/ jungle gym while Mrs Figg beamed.
'Of course! Let's go towards my house, we best not be fanny around at night time when we can be at my house,' said Mrs Figg as she led Harry towards her house, which looked no different from every other house on the outside. It still had the same straight cut lawn, white house and was just clean in general, if it weren't from the occasional cat that wondered outside then no one would ever know that it was Mrs Figg's house.
The inside of the house was still the same as well; it still smelt of cabbage and had pictures everywhere, many of them Muggle but a few of them pretended to be Muggle before realising it was okay to talk in front of Harry and a few of them even waved to Harry. Harry waved awkwardly back before giving up not even five seconds later.
Harry rummaged through his bag to get the envelope that the photos were contained in while Fata kept rubbing herself against him. It was quite annoying actually and none of the other cats did this to him, only this new cat.
Harry placed the envelope on the table while Mr Tibbles jumped onto the table to sniffed the envelope before jumping off the table again deeming it a waste of his time.
'Do you mind signing the back of these photos?' said Harry as he watched her make a pot of tea and bring out a cake to cut. It was probably that ancient cake again that Harry hated but was forced to eat because he didn't want to be impolite.
'What are they for?' asked Mrs Figg and Harry cursed in his mind. Of course she was going to ask and she was probably going to report it to Professor Dumbledore as well.
'I thought that- well the Dursleys thought that if I went out of the country, through the muggle way, then I'll be able to hide better and hopefully train better as well,' said Harry hoping that his lie would suffice. Mrs Figg gave him an odd smile, a mixture between grim and amusement.
'Well, if the Dursleys think this is okay then why shouldn't I sign them?' said Mrs Figg as she brought over the tea and cake.
'Go on, eat the cake. I promise it's not stale this time,'
Harry took a plate of cake and brought it to his mouth.
It was actually quite good, fantastic even.
'You hid this cake away from me all this time?' said Harry as he stared at her. Mrs Figg smiled before hiding it away with her tea cup and taking a drink.
'I didn't want the Dursleys to think you were being treated right, now do I?' said Mrs Figg in a teasing voice.
'I guess not,' said Harry reluctantly as he kept eating the cake. Mrs Figg stared at him before sighing.
'Is this what you want?' said Mrs Figg as she shuffled around her chair to allow Tufty to sit on her lap.
'Huh?' said Harry, ever so eloquently.
I should be given a prize for the most eloquent speaking then I'll be able to actually say something and not just grunting noises like Crabbe and Goyle.
'I mean, do you want a passport?' said Mrs Figg as she seemed to get the idea.
'Er, yes, I mean I do want a passport,' said Harry as he tried the tea and resisted the wince that came with it. It was sweet, too sweet. Harry knew there had to be something wrong with the food and drink.
'Very well, I'll sign them, just at the back right?' said Mrs Figg as she placed Tufty off of her lap and went to grab a pen to sign them with.
'Thank you, I didn't know who else to turn to,' said Harry, the words spilling out of his most and he was surprised to find that all the words he said were all true. This day was just one surprise after another for Harry. It was going so well but Harry knew there was going to be a catch.
Harry watched her sign her name on the back of the photos, he got her to sign them all just in case he lost one, and placed the photos and envelope back in his bag.
'It's late, isn't it? Should I call the Dursleys to pick you up or would you rather stay here?' said Mrs Figg. Harry didn't know which one was worse, going back to the Dursleys and face a possible beating from Uncle Vernon or stay in this home with Fata just around every corner.
'I think it's best for me to stay here,' said Harry staring into his sweetened tea. Harry didn't see Mrs Figg's grim smile as she walked to the telephone.
'I think it's for the best as well, I'll tell them you forgot the time while you were here and I asked you to stay. Go take a shower, you can use the spare bedroom on the second floor to the right,' said Mrs Figg as she started to dial the numbers.
'Thank you,' said Harry as he walked pass her to walk upstairs. He took a quick shower, partly from habit and partly out of gratitude to Mrs Figg so she didn't have to pay a high water bill, and washed his face. There wasn't a spare tooth brush but he figured he could last one day without brushing.
He didn't have a spare set of clothing but he figured it was okay to just wear some boxers and the undershirt to bed.
The bed was already made when he went into the spare bedroom and Fata was already on the pillow as if she was waiting for him. Harry sighed at the thought before going to find Mrs Figg. She was looking over photos in the Living Room, quite possibly of her past cats.
'Good night Mrs Figg,' said Harry as he waited on the bottom of the stairs, hiding the fact he was only in his boxers by awkwardly hiding the bottom half of himself as he was still in the company of a female.
'Good night Harry,' said Mrs Figg as she looked up from her photos and smiled a bit before turning back to them.
As soon as Harry's head hit the pillow (and a bit of Fata) he fell asleep with dreams of shadowed archways and dark headed males. It wasn't a very good dream for Harry that night.
Special info time (we'll go from the top instead of just randomly like I seem to do):
For those that like to keep a track of days in this chapter the date is the 25th of July, 1996.
Piers is one of Dudley's oldest crony/ friend, he was introduced in the first book by going to the zoo with Dudley.
I can see Dudley pulling a prank where he's all nice to Harry then telling his dad that Harry stole something of his making Harry deny it thus getting into bigger trouble. It's almost a classic thing to do to get someone in trouble.
Time turners are from the third book where Hermione uses them to get to her classes on time as she was taking every single class.
The 478 bus to Guildford is a real bus that actually goes go to Guildford and was inn use in 1996. It takes an estimated time of 48 minutes to get to Guildford from Surrey.
All right means to ask "Are you all right today?" which you use on strangers and people you're familiar with. The bus driver says "alright" instead of "all right" due to her accent and it isn't a typo.
Saying "I'm easy" is not an invitation for sex. It means I'm okay with anything which is why Mrs Rosemary Richmond says "I'm easy but my boss ain't!" which means "I'm okay with anything but my boss isn't okay with me standing here talking while on the job".
I originally had the bus driver saying "ta'" instead of "to" until I realised that "ta" means "thanks" in the British slang and had to take everything out and replace it so she wasn't saying thanks every fourth word.
You do need to get your passport photos signed by a person that has known you for quite sometime, lived in the country you're trying to get your passport in for a long time and not related to you in order to get your passport. Not many people Harry can turn to for that one. Luckily for us there is such a person without involving OCs, which I have a nasty habit of creating then pushing them out of the picture soon after.
I was originally going to get Harry to meet Mrs Rosemary Richmond again but this time make her have cancer but I don't want to make him meet an OC again, they're a one night stand use only these types. If I did give her a personality I guess I would have had made her live through the second World War as a survivor and understand PTSD from her husband, which is why she stopped.
I don't think Harry trusts adults very much, he will respect them but not trust them and this is why it is different with Mrs Rosemary Richmond. She has basically no ulterior motives but wanting companionship on the ride to talk to and hasn't shunned Harry for wearing poorly fitted clothing (Dudley's old clothing) or for his pity party. She doesn't know him or where he came from, she only knows that he wants a ride on the bus and that's basically all. So I can see Harry trusting this type of person.
I wasn't too sure about the price for the train ride (one-way) as the train station website didn't have any info or wikipedia but I do know they changed their prices in 2002 from one price all the time to two separate prices depending on what time of day you are getting on. I estimated that the ride one-way would cost 10 quid as the prices would seem very high for going into London. The trains however do go every 15 minutes and Harry would have had gone on the Class 455 train from Waterloo, London to Waterloo, London via many places including Guildford (too many places to list anyway). The train Harry is on is owned by South West Trains.
I'm also just guessing that you can't get refunds that or the nameless OC was just a prat.
prat means jerk or asshole. It is only semi-rude but not enough to be a swear word.
To chivvy along means to hurry along.
Watcha/ wotcher/ wotcha means something like "Hiya" so basically it is a greeting.
I couldn't resist Tom the Landlord of The Leaky Cauldron sticking up for Harry. If you ever saw him in the movies you'd be probably like "Erugh, what is that?" but Tom needs more love and love I gave him. I mean, how many fanfics have you read with the sole focus on Tom? Yeah, neither have I.
Lyrae and Gruis are Latin versions of the names of stars, so just like Draco is a name of a star Lyrae and Gruis are as well. I read in an essay that the naming theme of Harry Potter Wizarding families varies depending on the family. The Blacks use stars, the Malfoys use Roman and Greek famous plays and the McGonagalls use Roman God and Goddesses it seems from Professor McGonagall's name. So I went with the theme.
With the Goblins' names I just stuck random words with either blade techniques or weaponry. Gibberspike's name comes from Gibberish (my self proclaimed first language) and a Mace, where it is all spiky.
Riperblade comes from ripe as in "that fruit is ripe for the picking" and blade as in a sword.
Rustslice comes from the colour of blood when it dries and slicing, a technique used with any knife or sword or lance/axe/everything with a sharp blade.
I don't think that the blood ritual used by the Goblins would have had been illegal by Wizarding standard but Harry has heard a lot about the dark arts from Ron. So he would be concerned.
Ace means brilliant, once again.
The currency conversion for Galleons to pounds for me is a 1:7 ratio where 1 Galleon is equal to 7 pounds. This isn't a standard conversion for Galleons to pounds but is the one that I use for Harry's sake in this story otherwise the conversion is more like 1:5 ratio.
My conversion is:
0.00203 knutsx29= 1 sickle
0.0588 sickles x17=1 galleon
1 galleon= 7 pounds
The amount of money (£875) that Harry withdrew in US terms (in today's currency) is worth $1397.90 and worth $1479.73 AUS.
Silverprint Ltd is a real place. They were established in 1984 and I was going to originally use that shop for Harry's passport until I realised they're a hobby shop which means that don't do passport photos and OTL. The interior does seem to have a lot of reddish brown wood inside with many pigeonholes fully of material for photography including paper however I've never been there, just looked at their website.
To ring up someone means to call them, not charge them for their groceries.
When David refers to his "read" he means his major at school/ university.
University is the equivalent of College.
Hunky-dory means that it's fine and no worries.
I'm pretty sure that Snappy Snap would have had existed in 1996 however I'm not too sure. Snappy Snap is however real and the closest one from Silverprint was in Victoria Street, which is like 31 minutes away by car including traffic. Snappy Snap is on the other side of the river. They do passport photos there as well. I'm pretty sure we have Snappy Snaps where I'm from as well in the city part.
I was originally going to make David give Harry his number but decided against it last minute. It was going to go like "Here's my number if you need any help I'll be happy if you called me" and Harry going "...as if I'm ever going to call" and binning it without realising that he was being hit on.
Hit on means to be flirted with.
Cornish pastries are real and were invented by miners from Cornwall. I did a history subtopic on Cornish pastries during year 8. Year 8 is the same as Grade 8.
Mrs Figg did confess in the fifth book that she deliberately gave Harry stale cake and made his time as unpleasant as possible so that Harry could continue to keep coming back there so she could watch over him every year.
Fata comes from the Latin word "Fate" and is the root word of Fae and Fairy. I was originally going to call her Ninfia or Ninfiona but it never happen due to my bad naming skills. Also X and Y! Woot!
Sorry for having to read so much unless you like that kind of stuff. If you do like that stuff then I was happy to be of service!
Thanks to:
Jully Reed, Ceti H. Black, xeno96, foxy2015, harrykirk, Inixion, TamayoNomura and Vuurvlieg for following!
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If at any time Harry starts sounding like a 15 year old girl please tell me so I can kill that sound out.