Chapter 2 – Into Exile
Standard Disclaimer: All story characters and plot devices belong to JK Rowling.
Summary thus far: Harry's two different loves have both strayed from him, leaving him no immediate future. He has enlisted George's help in avenging the losses from the Battle of Hogwarts and has begun to tap into the real power that Voldemort knows not from the prophecy.
Harry's eyelids barely had the strength to open as he heard his name. "Master Harry Potter, I was to be waking you if it was important." Harry's glasses were still plastered to his face so when he snapped awake, his wand was at the ready, pointed directly into the offending item. He was ready to curse anything, which apparently, including the letter held to his face by Kreacher.
"Master not be wanting the letter?" His elf asked with what Harry swore was laughter. "It is a Ministry letter, maybe Master not be liking the Ministry?" Ok, now the elf was taking the mickey out of him.
"No, no, thank you Kreacher, you did well, as this does seem important". It was the first letter that carried what seemed to be a seal of the new Ministry, a phoenix wrapping around the scales of justice. It was definitely a break from the traditional M that most new Ministers had adopted It certainly seemed like Kingsley had some style to spare. "You checked it for Portkeys correct?" After his experience with the TriWizard trophy, he viewed anything official with a healthy dose of skepticism. Others would call him paranoid, Moody would have said he learned his lesson well.
Kreacher's eyes lost their mirth and he disappeared in a loud crack. Harry heard the loud gonging of something heavy and iron meeting flesh and bone, and rolled his eyes at the elf's histrionics. Shaking his head, he called his faithful servant back, "Kreacher, we only cook with the skillet from now on, understood? Now, is the letter safe?"
Watching his elf caress the letter, Harry concentrated to see any of the telltale colors that would show curses. After his examination and upon his elf's groggy nodding, Harry gingerly took the letter from his elf and opened it. He frowned at its brevity and read the single sentence, then reread it trying to make sense of it.
The phone booth at 7, my lynx messaged you at Bill's and Phlegm's wedding, call out Liam Matheson.
Harry held a bittersweet smile remembering Ginny's nickname for Bill's wife. It seemed so long and innocent ago when fun was allowed and hope was abundant. He checked the time and asked Kreacher to fix breakfast while he washed up as well as he could; placing on the Black family robes that Kreacher had laid out for him.
He arrived shortly after 7 o'clock, the phone booth stood waiting, menacing in its solitude. His nerves were on edge, the last few trips here were much like his trips to Gringotts, unpleasant at best, life-threatening at worst. At least he would be meeting with Kingsley so he could get an honest portrayal of the post war effort, presumably in conjunction with this Liam Matheson person.
Harry clumsily stepped inside, slamming his shoulder into the wall, swearing under his breath. Since when did the youngest Seeker in a generation fall into a phone booth? It was obviously the lack of sleep, or the stress, but it was still frustrating to seem like an idiot. He felt disjointed, like he was separated from his body, so gratefully, he leaned back against the booth and called out the name memorized from the letter, Liam Matheson. He waited to feel the jolt as the booth could hurdle in any direction. Frowning, as the seconds ticked by, he finally heard a slight pop and disappeared into darkness. When the doors opened Harry was standing before an old man in a darkened room with two chairs.
"Be seated", Liam spoke, but it was within Harry's mind. Harry reached down for his wand, but felt the man's gaze narrow. "This is no dark magic; it's just to provide protections for us both. What we say here is held in the strictness of confidence. Do you know who I am? Harry nodded, he had a guess. He hazarded a thought, "An unspeakable. It would explain the cloak and dagger stuff." Harry heard the resounding snort in his mind.
"Very astute young Potter, ahead of our conversation, I world like to apologize for its brevity. I am not callous, nor indifferent to your situation, it is very similar to the circumstances that brought me before you today. We know of your Horcrux and your connection to the Dark Lord. It is why you are here. Harry began to fight down the feeling of panic that was blossoming in his mind, if they suspected the Horcrux then he might have stepped into a trap. He glanced around the room for potential cover and exits as his hand slid down and palmed his wand.
Liam held up a hand in warning, making a calming gesture and pointing back to his temple. He watched as Liam pulled his own wand out slowly to ease Harry's anxiety and with a quick flick a life-sized Harry Potter sprang into existence between them. Before Harry could even raise his wand, he felt Matheson in his mind, "Calm down Harry, this is to show you an explanation, not to replace you, you must trust me and show more trust in your friend, the Minister. This is merely informative at this point."
The simalcrum stood in the spotlight of the darkened room and then the Horcrux glowed green as Liam spoke. "Albus spoke to you of what the Horcrux is and its influence, correct? Then you know Voldemort imbued certain gifts, parseltongue, and others to you through it. But the gift of the actual Horcrux, itself, is perhaps the most influential. Your life is intertwined with it; you have not known existence without it. The Horcrux worked to marshal your resolve against the Dark forces by being a constant reminder of your true loyalties and friends. As loathe as Harry was to agree he saw the simple truth of it and merely nodded his agreement. The Horcrux and scar was always an omnipresent reminder to side with the Light and fight against the Dark.
"The Horcrux's influence is even more insidious than you could imagine", Liam continued. Harry felt the bile rise into his throat as he saw the green infiltrating throughout his whole body, in every fiber, muscle, and neuron. "The poison and foulness of the Horcrux was so potent they your body couldn't just destroy it despite your parents' noble sacrifices. Your magical core was too weak so you incorporated it, adapted, and grew with it." Harry's horror continued to mount as the awful weight of Liam's thoughts began to mount. Voldemort wasn't a separate entity from him, encapsulated within the scar; he was a part of Harry ... every part.
"As you can see the parasitic nature has stunted your growth. Physically you're more slight and shorter than you should be, as Molly has no doubt reminded you." Liam and Harry both chuckled at his insight, and he was grateful to Liam for including some levity to combat his rising panic. "The Dursely's treatment not-withstanding, you should be a few inches taller." The unspeakable waved his hand and the simalcrum grew to around 6 feet tall and filled out considerably.
"Emotionally you are also immature. Liam quickly pressed on preventing Harry from being defensive. We are not talking of responsibility, merely self- awareness. Without it you feel alone lost without purpose, also without the focus required by the Horcrux and Voldemort, your outbursts and emotional control are less than adequate."
Anger rose in Harry and he again reached for his wand. Matheson just stared at him coldly and smirked. "As I said before, "We are not without compassion for your case."
"I am not emotionally immature, I have always reigned in my temper and can see things clearly now that Voldemort is gone."
He felt Liam voice snort again in his head,"The Elder wand would beg to differ. They actually brings us to your most difficult variable. Your magic coupled with this emotional instabilty. Imagine your zoo incident so long ago …
Merlin, thought Harry, they did keep close watch on me, but then if they knew that …
"Now it would destroy everything in a 15 foot radius. Your own magical essence was supplanted in some sense by Voldemort's blight. Now that his influence is gone..." Harry saw the model's green coloring of his whole person replaced with a cold blue silvery light. "The suffusion of raw magic is a near instantaneous process, for the body's need to become whole again is primal and undeniable. Sadly control is a learned behavior, more so for you who never grew into all of your own magic when coming of age. It will seem unrestrained, volatile like say an unchained dragon unaware of its lost power with no direction. Harry felt the smirk on Liam's face.
Merlin's knuts, this Matheson did know a lot about him; he wondered who their spy was in Gringotts that supplied that information. The goblins wouldn't have wanted to seem weak, nor reveal that they had illegally housed a dragon within London.
"Your standing as Harry Potter has actually served you well. Often when we have spontaneous, uncontrolled magical growth that person is obliviated or killed. It would be like a walking time bomb. That myth you hated so much has saved your life ... for now. We need your popularity to empower this Ministry. However, you must leave Britain."
Harry immediately raised his wand, but then collapsed into the chair as Liam's voice grew dangerously cold inside his mind.
"You misunderstand if you believe this to be negotiable. The Boy Who Lived and Conquered inadvertently murdering people because of a simple misunderstanding would be all that was needed for this recovery to fail and for people to lose hope. Our order would kill you first than to have that reversal. Britain and the ministry must recover; we will allow no slipups. Be the symbol we need; leave for the greater good, for lack of a better term. We will coordinate your exile with several news outlets, in whatever manner you would like, to protect those you must, within reason. I wish you the best Harry Potter".
With Matheson retreating from his mind and with this new sword of Damocles lording over him, Harry numbly walked back to the phone booth. He felt a small sheet of parchment appear and fold itself in his pocket. Liam reached his mind with a sorrowful tone for the last time as the phone booth disappeared. "I truly am sorry, I know your sacrifice, and when you are ready, the path home will be clear. For now, Gringotts will provide you anything needed to transition courtesy of the Ministry."
The phone booth unceremoniously dumped him out into the lobby of the Gringotts bank, much to his chagrin. That was not the right way to avoid attention considering the circumstances, that included stumbling drunkenly around the bank. Mercifully, the goblins were expecting him and quickly pulled him into an associate director's office. It would not make good business sense to have one of their wealthiest clients crashing about in their bank plastered in the Daily Prophet.
"Exile, Mr. Potter?", the goblin was tapping his finger against his chin, deep in thought. Wizards were so confusing, was this not the hero of their War? "You are of age to receive your inheritances and titles, however, I would forgo the public acceptance of these titles due to the circumstances. To have a wand-wielder Lord of two Houses in public exile would be most … unfortunate." His teeth gleamed in the lighting of the office, and Harry knew he was taking pleasure in his situation. That the wizards he served and held in contempt were now condemning their savior reinforced everything that his race felt about the wand carriers. Even so, he felt the slightest bit of sympathy for this fledgling wizard and the awesome responsibility he carried, so he softened his delight slightly, "However, before you go, there are a few matters that must be accounted for."
Harry groaned, he knew the damages to Gringotts had been severe and would likely lose a large sum of Galleons to make amends, however, when he saw the number he blanched. He would be lucky to have any Galleons left over. When he brought his concerns to the assistant director, he smirked to hide his frown. The Potter scion had never seen the entirety of his family's vault, nor had he ever been exposed to the enormity of the Black vault. Had the Goblins known his ignorance, they would have charged him significantly more. It was disconcerting to see the greed flash in the goblin's eyes, but Harry was distracted when he learned that there was a secondary inheritance granted to him by Albus Dumbledore.
Twenty minutes later, Harry Potter was signing the writs to take Lordship of both Black and Potter Houses, having paid the goblins a "processing" fee that allowed that private knowledge to stay within the walls of the director's office. While the cost of repairing the bank was steep, Harry emerged tens of millions of Galleons wealthier. The joy at the windfall was brief; replaced quickly by annoyance as he was handed the Dumbledore testament and the knowledge that his wealth was born from the death of his parents and his godfather. He opened the letter from Dumbledore and read his flowing script.
Harry, if you are reading this then we have both died but my plan has worked and you are now alive again. I know that your life has been troubled and that some of that is my fault, but I hope that now you can appreciate what was needed to be done. I had to think of the Greate..
Harry crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it in the trash can unable to keep the disgust from his face. "Director, did he leave me any effects?" The goblin pulled two items from the desk drawer and placed them on the table. An innocuous, plain white gold ring, and a book with a colorful paper cover.
"This is an untraceable ring with a permanent glamour charm. You may use it to change your features and alter your size slightly, but nothing more. I imagine he believed this will help in your disappearing act. This is a muggle book, written by some American author", the goblin seemed unimpressed and Harry had to agree.
"Thank you director, I would conclude my business here after a few requests. A simple way to access my accounts, obviously without having to return here, a summary of all Potter and Black investments, and six official sealed letters to be sent for arrival in two hours." Harry sent to work on his friends' letters, wondering how he could explain the last few hours to them but telling them they had to stay away until he managed to stay in control. He bit the quill tip nervously and began to write.
A/N: This idea has been a while coming so it may touch on a few elements of the common Harry in exile fics out there, but stick with me, there are enough realistic twists to distinguish the story from others. It will continue to be angsty for a few more chapters, then the real fun begins!