Harry Potter and the Grey Titan
Chapter 1
Harry Potter had known for some time that he was a freak. On the rare occasions his family caught him long enough to punish him for it, he no longer denied it. He hadn't in years.
Holding this letter in his hands, Harry finally felt something flicker inside him. Hope. Hope that being a freak meant more than beatings, hard labor, and poor living arrangements.
"BOY! IF YOU DON'T GET ON WITH IT, I'LL DRAG YOU IN HERE MYSELF!"
Thinking quickly, Harry slid his letter under the door to the very place it was addressed to. Straightening up and quickly sorting the mail, entering and passing out the letters to their intended recipients.
His job done, he waited by the sink for the Dursleys to finish eating, so he could promptly get the kitchen back in order. The Dursleys like to eat in peace so Harry was not allowed to get a head start, nor was he allowed to eat with the family. Harry was just glad it was the winter holidays, so he would not have to rush to make it to school on time.
His time at Stonewall had done him some good, a year and a half going to a different school than Dudley had certainly helped his self-worth. While he may not have made any actual friends thanks to Polkis, he certainly had more freedom. After some trial and error, he found his grades could improve some as well, he brought home his first C and didn't receive a beating, he was still locked in his cupboard, but Harry felt that had more to do with him running out of chores to do.
Harry also set up a successful homework-help group. It really was Harry trading homework assignments, completed tests, and study guides for various amounts of lunch money, but Harry had meals in his belly as well as a little pocket money, and all he had to do was learn even more. Soon he spent more and more time in the library, sometimes skipping classes, and checking books out to take home and read in his cupboard. By the end of his first semester, he was doing homework for students in the year ahead of him, and by the end of his first year, he was finishing the third.
Harry was brought out of his musings by the scraping of chairs as the Dursleys left the dining room, leaving the scraps that would be Harry's to eat, as well as the plates that needed to be washed. As he started the dishes, Harry contemplated the letter in his cupboard, he was torn, between doing what was smart, and acting as if nothing had changed about his day and continuing with his chores and reading the letter when he finished, or sneaking into his cupboard now to read the letter immediately.
Reading now came with the immediate satisfaction, as well as the safety of knowing what the letter said and not being able to have it truly taken from him. Reading after his chores were done was the safer bet, giving nothing to tip his hand that there was something that excited him and therefore drew less attention to him. The less the Dursleys thought he had to take, the less they were inclined to search for it.
After years of talking back and being defiant, Harry had finally learned the important lesson of having a façade and keeping one's true thoughts to themselves. After a particularly thorough punishment, leading to confinement in his cupboard for the full winter break a few years ago, Harry had decided then and there, he cared not for his relatives. And the less reason they had to interact with him the better. What did it matter now, if he had opinions? Better to be a little gray rock with quiet opinions, than locked in his cupboard barely able to move after voicing those opinions.
Having weighed his options, he decided patience was the better virtue and began his chores, pondering what this letter could mean. He had, of course, gotten letters from school. But those were typed out and addressed to his guardians. This letter was addressed to him. And never before had the address been so very specific. It even detailed which room he slept in. Something about the crest had grabbed his attention as well. Below the Latin motto were the words witchcraft and wizardry. Magic. The unnutterable word that had led to his more enthusiastic dressing downs.
Magic. Is that what he could do? He had long wondered what exactly it was he could do. He still remembered the first night he had unlocked his cupboard after he had been left in there for four days. He was so hungry he desperately pleaded with whatever ditties were out there to let him out to get something to eat. After he had gotten his fill, he realized a problem, if Vernon or Petunia came down and saw the cupboard unlocked, he would likely be punished again, just as harshly, and be stuck in there even longer. This led to a panic attack, some door rattling the lock somehow relocking itself.
Harry passed out due to exhaustion and finally having a full belly before he realized the problem and fixed itself, the next morning came and he never got in trouble for his nighttime excursion, Harry resolved to practice this feat. He had experienced strange things before and they all seemed to revolve around him. This was the first time he had actively willed something to happen, and had his will obeyed. Being able to escape his confinement was infinitely more useful than shrinking a hideous sweater and changing something's color.
Harry reminisced how far he had come with his abilities, thinking about how he had lost his glasses after being thrown into his cupboard after his hair-changing fiasco. Not being able to move well and not feeling his glasses in the immediate area, Harry concentrated hard and tried to make his glasses come to him. Several hours later he had been successful, and it was one of the proudest moments of his young life. He accomplished something outside of a need to survive.
A few years later, after starting his school funding, Harry quickly realized he no longer had enough time in the day outside of his cupboard to keep up with his studies and do the homework and study guides he was selling. Deciding that he no longer would be able to waste precious hours of the day in unproductive darkness, he first tried summoning fire for light.
He was successful in his attempt to conjure fire. He even made it so he could hold it. No matter how hard he tried, he could not keep it from catching other things on fire, like his sleeves for instance. Nor could he stop the soot that accumulated on surfaces above the flame.
No, what Harry needed was a flashlight he could hold that gave off light so he could read without having to worry about burning himself or the house down. This took him quite some time to master as he first learned it with his right hand, then he had to mimic the skill with his left hand. At first, he managed to make his palm glow, and no sooner had he done that, his studies took off and eventually led him to be years ahead of his peers. However, after hours of holding his hand upside down at the books to give him enough light to see, his hand became tired often cutting his studies short as well as the flickering light as he turned the pages gave him headaches.
It just so happened the answer came to him when one of the lights in the shed went out and was put on his chore list one day. Staring at the fresh light bulb, he realized that was essentially what he needed. A ball of light that didn't move with his hands. Something he could stick to the ceiling or suspend in the air so it wouldn't move and would give him steady light he didn't have to stare at to read. After some trial and error, he was able to form a ball of light in the palm of his hand and control its movement from there.
After some experiments, Harry had managed to control how bright his light was. He even conjured several orbs and practiced moving them around simultaneously. This was definitely hard to control, but after months of diligent practice he had gotten the hang of it. Out at the park and feeling brave, Harry found mild success with doing something similar with the flames he could conjure. First turning it into a ball, then making it levitate, moving it around him, and even having some success with changing the flame's temperature.
With so much running through his mind, Harry was slightly surprised to find out he had finished his chores earlier than expected. With a quick double check of his list and confirmed his status and made his way to his cupboard. Being fairly paranoid, Harry started on his studies, just in case the Dursleys found more chores for him to do. After thirty minutes had gone by, Harry couldn't wait anymore. Bringing the letter out and breaking the seal, Harry pulled out three sheets of fancy paper and a train ticket.
The first sheet was an invitation to study at a school called Hogwarts, a place of study for various branches of magic. The middle sheet was a list of supplies necessary for a first year to complete the school year and a reminder about the ban on broomsticks for this year of students. The last letter, however, was the true treasure trove of information.
To Our New Muggleborn Students,
I would first like to offer my congratulations to our new student on being accepted at our prestigious school of witchcraft and wizardry: Hogwarts. It is the leading magical institution in the British Isles and arguably the best in all of Europe.
To help bring you up to speed and give you and your parents/guardians the chance to explore your new world, we have assembled some general information you should know as a new witch or wizard.
The first thing a Muggleborn needs to know is Gringotts Bank is the only bank in the Wizarding world. The exchange rate varies day to day and you will need to visit the London Branch in Diagon Alley. Be warned, the bank is run by a magical race known as Goblins and should not be trifled with. They will have more information when you visit, and as you will need to convert pounds to magical currency, it will be an excellent time for you to get to observe them.
Secondly, and a slightly related subject, Diagonal Alley is the largest magic shopping district in the UK. It is accessible through the Leaky Cauldron at approximately 85 Charing Cross Road. Anyone who does not have magic(muggles) will not be able to see the establishment. Once inside, speak to the barman Tom to be let in through the entrance. Once inside, you will find Gringotts at the end of the Alley(white marble building) and various shops you will need to purchase your supplies from.
The third thing a Muggleborn should know is that the main method of communication over long distances is via Owl. As long as you are careful, having your own Owl to send letters to your parents may be an excellent option for you. There is a slower method involving the non-magical(Muggle) post office. If you chose this route, all letters must be addressed to the:
Dept. of International Affairs:
ATTN Insert Recipient's Name
100 Admiralty Pl, London, United Kingdom
Be sure to have the proper amount of postage for the post service, as well as a 3 Knut service fee for the magical leg of the journey.
On the subject of Owls and letter writing, Muggle plastics and metals do not hold magic well, and therefore the magical world still uses quills, ink pots and parchment paper. It will be beneficial to begin practice using these materials now.
There are many more things Muggleborn should and will learn, for this letter though, the last thing you should know is how to enter the platform for the Hogwarts Express. Platform 9 ¾'s is located at King's Cross Station London, behind a brick wall between platforms 9 and 10. Be warned, only magicals can pass through this barrier and care MUST be taken to ensure unauthorized Muggles see you pass through. The train leaves at precisely 11 o'clock so be sure to arrive with enough time to say your goodbyes and find a seat on the train.
This letter is intended to be kept for reference. A Professor from the school will be scheduled to talk to you and your parents at a later date to give you a more in depth explanation and introduction.
Welcome to the Magical World,
Professor Burbage
Muggle Studies, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Harry Potter laid in his cramped cupboard shocked with his mind whirring at speeds he wasn't aware was possible. Magic is real. There is a whole new world full of magical people out there. People who would not think of him as a freak. This opened up so many possibilities. There were so many books, so much knowledge to be had. The letter said a representative would be scheduled at a later date to come introduce you to the world of magic. Harry didn't know when that would be, but he knew he couldn't wait. He would be going to Diagon Alley at the first available opportunity.
It had taken a few days, since Harry could not take the chance of disappearing during the Christmas holidays, between the increase in chores and all the cooking, and the temporary move into the closet of the smallest bedroom to pretend he did not exist.
Today was the day, however. The Dursleys were taking their vacation and would be gone for the week. Harry gathered up all his earnings from selling his knowledge, called a taxi to pick him up and take him to Charing Cross Road. Bundling up as much as he could, grabbing a truly atrocious beanie, Harry stepped outside ready for the adventure. Paying his fare, Harry found the Leaky Cauldron, and with barely contained shakes he walked up to the bar, asking to be let into the Alley. After being shown how to open the gateway into the Alley-
Harry's jaw dropped. Harry had never been out much, but he still had experience out in the… Muggle world. Never before had he seen anything quite like this. The entire Alley was still decorated for Christmas, not quite the usual decorations he was used to putting out at the Dursleys, but every bit as extravagant. And all of it impossibly detailed and mobile.
And to say nothing of the shops was almost insulting, so many things he had never seen before laid out and on display for sale. Harry turned his head in so many directions as he walked his neck was getting tired and he still felt like he had missed more than he had seen. The people themselves were wearing a strange cross between overcoats and bathrobes with hoods. The smells wafting over to him were foreign and enticing, as well as mixing with the mouth watering smell of fresh food coming from one of the stores.
So consumed by his senses being overwhelmed, Harry was climbing the steps to the imposing marble building before it fully registered that he had, in fact, walked to the end of the Alley. Taking in the impressive doors and reading the warning, Harry waited in the queue in a daze.
"Next!" A gravelly rasping sound broke Harry from his thoughts. Stepping forward, Harry was greeted with an impatient, "Name!"
"Harry Potter." He answered as the goblin stopped his quill from scratching on the parchment he was absorbed in, lifting his head and staring at Harry with narrowed eyes. After passing some sort of test, the goblin simply stated, "Key."
"Key? Er… key to what?" Harry asked, perplexed. The only keys that came to mind were the house keys or car keys, and he was not allowed to touch either of those. The only time he got the house keys were times like this, when the Dursleys were on vacation. And what a bank teller would need with a house key was beyond him.
"The key to your trust vault, Mr. Potter" the goblin clarified. "The vault your parents left for you to use until you came of age and were granted access to the Family vault."
"I don't know anything about a trust vault or my parents. I came here to exchange pounds and explore the Alley." Harry explained a little more than dumbstruck.
"You are Harry James Potter?" The goblin's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Son of James Charlus and Lily Anne Potter?"
"My name is Harry Potter. I know my middle name starts with J." Harry started quietly. "No one told me what it meant, or my parents' names." He finished in a small voice.
The goblin actually closed his eyes in frustration. "Follow me." He grunted before flipping a closed sign at his desk and motioned for Harry to follow him to a side door. Following the strange goblin, wondering how something so simple turned into a trip to the back, noticed absently that the hallway, while certainly very nice, was also very plain. No paintings or pictures. Just walls and a floor that were obviously well made. The ceiling looked rather low, but it was not something he typically paid attention to so he couldn't tell for sure.
Following the goblin into an office that was just as bare, with the sole exception being a set of chairs and a desk, taking a seat after the goblin indicated for him to do so. Harry sat quietly, staring back at the goblin, waiting for him to make the first move.
"We need to prove your identity." The gravelly voice grunted after some time. "We will need your blood." He continued while reaching into one of the drawers pulling out a moderately sized shallow bowl and a gleaming silver dagger. "Use this dagger, slice your palm, and bleed into the bowl."
Harry's mind had finally ground to a halt. He knew what the goblin said. He understood what the goblin wanted him to do. He could not, however, fathom what this had to do with proving his identity or even how this would accomplish that.
"You… you want me. To… what?" Harry stuttered.
The goblin scowled. "This is a standard identity verification here at Gringotts. If you are who I think you are, you need to do this." The goblin snapped.
"I… I'm sorry, I just found out about magic like four days ago. And you want me to cut myself and bleed into some bowl, while I don't even know your name?" Harry started, adding more ire into his voice as he spoke. "Excuse me for being a little lost. You just told me more about my parents than I learned in the last 12 years."
The goblin did not stop staring, although his black eyes did seem slightly less dangerous. "Ripclaw, young wizard. My name is Ripclaw." Pausing for a moment, he continued. "I can not speak anymore until your identity is confirmed. The dagger will heal your hand after a short amount of time."
Considering the situation, Harry didn't see any real drawbacks, and it sounded like his parents might have left him something. Thinking back on everything the Dursleys had said about his parents, something clicked. His parents were freaks, just like him. His parents were magical.
Firming his resolve, Harry sat up straight and grabbed the dagger, extending his left hand over the bowl and gave his palm a firm slice. Blood flowed heavily into the bowl which began to glow brightly, intricate carvings glowing brightly, before the light faded, a single drop formed on the bottom of the bowl, dripping onto the parchment underneath.
Harry James Potter
Son of
James Charlus Potter
and
Lily Anne Potter nee Evans
Accessible Vaults: 1
Inheritable Vaults: 2
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Harry Potter." Ripclaw said after a moment. "If you will excuse me for just a moment, there is something we shall need."
Leaving Harry to his thoughts, Harry set the blade down and sank into his chair. Looking from the blade, to the bowl, and with a start, he snapped his gaze to the cut on his hand. It was gone. He couldn't even tell where he had sliced it. Sliding his fingers across where cut, he couldn't even feel where the wound was. Marveling at the miracle, Harry failed to notice Riplaws return.
"Two things, Mr. Potter. You do not have the key to your vault correct?" Ripclaw asked with a pointed look.
"Er.. yes? I wasn't aware I had a vault." Harry nervously answered.
"And you are Harry James Potter, son of James Charlus and Lily Anne Potter?" Ripclaw continued, placing a new bowl on the desk.
"I am." Harry answered confidently, a new feeling filling his chest, mixing with his profound joy at learning something about his parents. Unknown to him, his eyes gave the smallest off the smallest amount of glow, almost undetectable in the light.
"Excellent. We will need more blood, but you will have a key to your vault." Ripclaw gestured to a new stone basin he brought out onto his desk.
Eager this time, Harry grabbed the knife and slit his hand again, this time noticing how the cut on his hand healed after a few seconds of blood being drained. Instead of glowing, his blood simply sat there until Ripclaw took a key, ran it around the edge three times and dropped it into the blood. As soon as the key touched the surface of the pool, Harry's blood immediately started to bubble, before swiftly being soaked into the key as it started to glow and slightly change shape.
Ripclaw reached into the bowl, withdrawing the key and held it to his eye, giving it a close inspection. After his inspection, he touched the top of the key to the stone sitting on a piece of parchment, with a small flash, words began to fill the parchment.
Key to Vault 687
Owner: Harry James Potter
Balance: 9,631G 12S 32K (total value)
Ledger: Linked
Child Account for Potter Family
Number of Keys: 2
"Do not lose this key. The charge for key repair or replacement is 50G plus 15G for each additional time after. The process renders previous keys inert, so the magic will no longer allow entry to the vault or authorize transfers." Ripclaw began, handing Harry his key. "Speaking of, this new key will be 50G and the identity verification will be 25G."
Ripclaw then ripped off the first sheet of paper, then wrote down the services provided and the charges. "Now Mr. Potter, simply tap your key on the stone, and the gold shall be transferred at the end of the day." Ripclaw gestured to the stone with a toothy grin.
Tentatively, Harry took his key and pressed it to the stone. He felt something in his fingers and the writing glowed briefly before vanishing into the stone. Harry was awed by the display of magic, and it felt very much like everyday magic that no one really appreciated.
"Thank you, Ripclaw. This has been much more informative than I had expected." Harry spoke sincerely.
"Gringotts is happy to help with your banking needs." Ripclaw replied with practiced ease. "Am I correct in assuming you are shopping for school?" Harry nodded. "And are you doing your shopping alone?"
"Er… yeah. My relatives would prefer to have nothing to do with this… world." Harry said evasively.
"For a price, I would be willing to task someone in my employ to take you around and assist with your shopping." Ripclaw offered, scratching his chin.
"How much?" Harry asked, it was an easy decision. He had planned on trying to figure it out for himself, but the amount of information he had learned in the transaction was certainly a good sign for more knowledge on this shopping trip.
"200G. 100 for me, and the rest for your escort." Harry figured if he had almost 10,000G, sparing the 200G would not make him poor.
"Sure. I wouldn't mind a guide through the Alley." Harry answered.
"Excellent, you won't regret it. Mr. Potter. I will draw up the draft after your guide is selected. Griphook!" Ripclaw called the last part out to the hallway. "Take Mr. Potter to Vault 687 and bring him back here when you return to the surface." Ripclaw told Griphook when he arrived.
"It is recommended to carry a modest amount of gold on you for smaller transactions or smaller places of business that do not have Transfer Stones." Ripclaw added at Harry's look of confusion.
After one of the most thrilling experiences he had ever experienced, opening his vault to find an obscene amount of gold inside, scooping up about 300G into a pouch found in the vault and asking Griphook if the minecart could go faster, Harry arrived back at Ripclaw's office.
"Welcome back, Mr. Potter. I trust you were successful?" Ripclaw greeted them.
"Yes. We were." Harry replied with a huge smile. "Thank you, Griphook!" He called to the retreating goblin.
Slowly turning, "The pleasure was mine, Mr. Potter. Be sure to come back for all of your banking needs." Griphook replied with a slightly shocked voice before resuming his exit.
"Initiate Weasley here has agreed to assist in your shopping in the Alley." Ripclaw gestured to a tall figure in the corner of the office. "The Transfer Stone is ready for payment and you'll be on your way."
Harry reached into his pocket to grab his key as he looked to his guide. Tall, with long red hair tied back behind him, a dangling fang hanging off his ear, dressed in faded leather jacket, with matching boots and dark pants with a matching robe, painting a picture of cool, calm, and ready for whatever came his way.
"It's nice to meet you. Initiate Weasley, I'm Harry Potter." He introduced himself as he touched his key to the stone. "I'm looking forward to your help on my shopping."
"Er… Bill. Uh… Bill Weasley." Bill cleared his throat to overcome his bout of being starstruck. "Please call me Bill. I'm looking forward to showing you around the Alley."
Harry narrowed his eyes slightly at Bill and then shifted his eyes to Ripclaw. Then back to Bill. "Does everyone who works at the bank know who all the customers are by name?"
"Mr. Potter, what do you know about your family? Or your parents?" Ripclaw asked with a blank face.
"I know my last name is Potter." Harry started, "I learned my parents were magic and what their names were today. Before that, all my relatives told me was that they were freaks, worthless drunks, my father a tramp and my mum a whore, who died in a car crash that gave me the scar under my hat."
Silence filled the room. Harry could almost feel the shock coming off of Bill and Ripclaw.
"Ahem. Initiate Weasley I leave this in your capable hands." Ripclaw stated after clearing his throat. "You are a wizard and therefore far more familiar with it. I also have an appointment and time is golden." Standing rather quickly, Ripclaw vacated the room, leaving him and Bill in the room.
"Well. How much time do you have and are you hungry?" Bill asked, still a little shell shocked.
"I've got plenty of time." Technically he had all week. "And I'm always hungry." Harry said.
"Well why don't we go grab some lunch while we have our chat." Bill said, clearing his head. "I know a great place out of the way and we can make a game plan." Bill finished throwing on a heavier cloak as they exited the office.