Summary: What if Harry Potter was actually schizophrenic?
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
A/N number 1: I am soooooooo sorry guys! I've just been so busy with everything going on and life that something had to give. Anyway, I'M BACK! You might not get a chapter every week but you'll at least get one every... two weeks? Maybe?
A/N number 2: I find myself confused by the conversion rates in the Harry Potter universe. So I'll use the Harry Potter Wiki when thinking of dealing with Gringotts and the real world when dealing with the real world. So here's what I'm thinking: Gringotts believes that Galleons are worth $7. The real world believes that Galleons are worth at least $25... It will make sense when you read it.
A/N number 3: I am not British so I will be using the ever so useful dollar sign so I don't get confused between pounds and stuff... Yeah...
Sitting in the train, waiting for the adventure to the land of the stolen, the boy decided to think on everything that had happened so far.
It was strange that Gringotts bank actually used real gold, silver and bronze for their currency. To be completely honest right now he was quite happy to say that he officially had at least 2000$ in his bank account right now. Their exchange rate was phenomenal!
The best part of it all was going to the bank and, asking what the exchange rate was. The bank manager had been amazed at the coin that the boy had brought as an example. The manager had told the boy that just with the bank he would receive only about 25 to 40 dollars for it but if he went to a pawn shop he would be receiving a lot more.
It was an interesting experience to walk into a pawn shop and receive 2000$ up front for a single coin.
To become rich all the boy had to do now was take about 7 or 8 dollars and bring it to Gringotts to get a galleon. And then repeat and repeat and repeat.
During the month, he had rented a room in a motel that was close enough to Diagon Alley. Every day he would walk from the motel to Gringotts to learn what he could from Mister Malfoy and the Goblins.
He'd gotten everything he needed for school during the first few days and also met a "creep", as the voice named him, to buy his wand. Like he cared if his parents bought their wands from him. It took them hours to finally find a match (elder wood, Dragon heart string from a particularly vicious Horntail and 12 ¾ inches) and yet the boy still didn't feel satisfied with the match. Maybe he'd try to find another wand that satisfied him, maybe not, he didn't know yet.
"I'd like to know why he gave you the same wand three times. You could tell that he was hoping for something."
He'd learned so much during that month about the "pure-blood" culture. The boy saw it close to the 17th century etiquette. There were rules for every type of situation (from a first time meeting to a person's last breath). It seemed to him that the children of the "pure-bloods" were groomed from birth to enter politics.
He's also learned of the different types of magiks. The "dark" arts along with the "light" arts were studied side by side. In fact, he didn't see why they were called that, to him they were horrible either way.
He learned of Occlumency and Legilimency, of Voodoo and staff magik, and of magik in general. He'd been given so many books all in different subjects. He'd also bought a lot of books about so many things that he thought he could start his own library.
The voice had given him a little bit of advice about what was going on though:"They seem to want to groom you into something. Thread carefully"
Harry nodded his head without thinking.
He's also gotten an animal. Well, two actually but the bird was more of a decoy than anything else. His real "pet" was an Atheris hispida snake. He didn't know if it was because of the Slytherin ring that he could talk to snakes or maybe it was a side effect of the scar. He didn't care either way.
He'd walked into the pet shop and bought an owl because it was expected of him but he hadn't been ready to actually have a conversation with the snakes at the back of the shop. He'd finally caved in and bought a young snake that looked as if it had feathers.
It was explained to him by the owner that these types of snakes had been nicked named the "feathered tree vipers" because of their bristle-like scales. He'd also been warned that there was no know antidote to its venom.
Instead of looking for a name Harry had just asked the snake what it would be liked to be called and it had answered that it wanted a Latin name. Harry had then got himself a Latin-English Dictionary and decided to just translate "feather snake". The snake liked the name. It was right now sleeping in his trunk; Harry only hoped that no one disturbed Pinnam Anguis.
He was also in the process of suing the author of all that Harry Potter drivel. Those books were the reason why he had to buy all that hair dye! They'd been watching him also. How else did they know how he looked!
He really had to learn how to get the right shade 'cuz right now he was sporting a nice dark purple head of hair… He wasn't going to be going incognito any time soon.
So, now all he had to worry about was if he wanted them to believe that he was their nice little hero that always ran head first into danger without thinking of his own well-being. Or did he want to be his own person within this strange world that he'd been kidnapped in.
He'd never been a good actor, which meant that Gryffindor was out of the question.
It was also out of the question to let anyone walk over him. Out the window goes Hufflepuff.
He was smart, sneaky and independent but he also didn't want to be labeled as evil. That left Ravenclaw.
Now that that was settled he pulled out one of his school books about transfiguration and started to read, waiting for the train to leave. For a moment, everything was silent except for the sound of people walking outside of his compartment and people outside talking and then the voice decided to ask him a question.
"Now think. How are they going to try to establish their dominance over you?"
At that moment the door to his compartment opened to reveal a red-headed kid. The child seemed chocked a little bit but after a moment asked him if he'd seen Harry Potter, after looking at his forehead.
"Thank the gods you bought that concealer!"
Ignoring the voice, Harry stated that he had no idea who the red-head was talking about. before he could say anything else the red-headed boy closed the door and left.
The trip had been rather uneventful. There had only been three more disturbances to his reading. The first was from a girl and a boy looking for a toad or some other thing, the lady pushing the trolley was next (he'd brought his own food in case they tried to slip him something) but the third was the most interesting.