Chapter 2 - Precautionary Contract

It is what our goal is that drives us. What drives us defines our life. Choose a modest goal, and you will not fulfill your potential. Chose a goal too grandiose, your mind can rebel against your best interests. Of course, it all depends on your ability to choose your means. The means and the goal are not separate. They are at the same level, intricately connected to each other.

My goal was very simple – to escape the clutches of the Dursleys. The means I had were non-existent, through no fault of my own. Goal accomplished. Now what? It isn't a real goal. It's an interlude to the main plot.

The three magical beings entered the house in hushed steps. Harry had a lot of questions running through his mind, most of which he couldn't even put into words yet. He found it all so… dreamlike. I have to be dreaming! He pinched himself again, and again. He even questioned the efficacy of the technique. Would he even wake up from a dream if he did that? Yet, all that was secondary to what was lying ahead. There was no way that there existed ghostly creatures that came from children's chaotic energy or something. He kept on falling back, terrified of meeting the newly identified – poltergeist again, no matter how harmless it was proclaimed to be. Something like that couldn't be harmless even in his dreams.

The dull, boring, and utterly normal house looked as real as it had ever looked. This was in total contrast to the woman wearing a dull black robe pointing a black stick at the living room. She whispered, "Lumos." This inexplicably resulted in the end of the stick lighting up with a white glow, illuminating the dim shadowy room. Harry's stomach did summersaults at the sight. She flicked the stick, sending the white ball of light flying smoothly to the ceiling, throwing beams of light all across. This was… magic? Then his brain supplied a truly elating thought. Didn't they say that he was different than his family? What does that mean?

The day had been very unusual, full of unease and fear. But Harry now felt that he was being led through a door, one offering change, and a feeling lingered in Harry's mind, one that was seldom experienced – hope.

"Go ahead, Harry Potter. The poltergeist will appear soon," said the man, discouraging him further. Although wary of any further surprises, he steeled his will and stepped forward into the ruined hall.

SWOOOSH. His daring didn't go unrewarded, as he soon saw water swooping in on him from mid-air. He screamed and tried to duck but wasn't on time. SPLASH… and he wasn't drenched. A shimmering barrier stood in front of him. He careened back, and the barrier followed him.

"Now, Lyanna," the man whispered. She took out a small pouch from the inside of her robes, put her hand in its mouth, and said something. A shining black oval stone was in her hand, the size of a peanut. He watched as the stone left her palm and floated in the air. Despite himself, despite being terrified at the thought of the poltergeist, he kept his eyes open, staring transfixed at the scene. She turned her stick towards him, and he had to jerk his hand back. A sharp prickling sensation had hit the index finger of his left hand. A drop of blood slid down his finger and floated towards the hovering stone. He saw the tiny drop spread to cover the oval stone, shining as the rays of light hit it from the ceiling. It looked so… magical.

The blood-red stone followed Lyanna as she began an advance towards the middle of the room. WHOOSH! Several more toys were flung at them and water rushed in streams from all directions. The man started flicking his stick hastily, producing barriers to protect them from the projectiles.

She glanced towards her colleague. "This is the place, right?"

The mage just nodded and kept casting spells to protect them from whatever was being thrown at them.

Harry's heart kept thundering.

The stone floated to the center of the room as she pointed her stick at it and chanted, "Spiritum Captum Saxis Hostilem Esse Ducunt Ad," making complex motions with her stick. Dark-purple rays began to emit from the stone, which felt menacing and deadly as they started extending into the room.

His emotions were in disarray as he watched what was transpiring. She motioned for him to come forward. Feeling as if he had no choice, he acquiesced and the glow began stretching towards him.

His fear turned to dread as the glow connected to his stomach. His whole body wanted to recoil at the sinister touch, but something held his body in place. A loud wail echoed in the hall, seeming to originate from behind the television. The dark glow tracked the wail as if pouncing on a prey.

Harry gaped as an airborne figure appeared behind the television. It looked… colorful. It was very small, about the size of a human baby, with blue skin. It was bizarrely wearing a black suit with a white shirt, and black pants. It also wore orange pointy boots, a red tie, and a large, for its size, cowboy hat. Its green eyes were big and round, and his chubby cheeks had green lightning bolt marks. Although Harry had never seen anything like it, it looked uncomfortably familiar.

It clung to the TV stand to stop itself from being hauled. Lyanna, who had beads of sweat trickling down her eyebrows, thrust her stick towards it. The TV stand toppled, crashing the TV on the floor, and Harry felt his heart stop for a second.

The glow encased the poltergeist and started dragging it towards the stone. The poltergeist howled and screamed as it got closer to the dark stone, causing Harry to wince at the pain in its voice.

He could feel the poltergeist getting more desperate, the more it got closer. A wave of energy pulsated through the room as Lyanna gave a cry of protest, pushing the poltergeist aggressively into the repulsive stone. Harry felt an eerie moment of disorientation as the poltergeist's body started dissolving into the stone. It started vanishing like water in a sponge. A wave of fatigue passed through him and he fell to his knees once it was over.

Lyanna let out a sigh of relief. Harry was staring at the stone as if entranced by it. It had turned to a shiny emerald color. He should have felt relieved at the capture of the poltergeist, but all he could feel was a dull numbness.

Lyanna picked up the stone and let out, "I didn't think it'd be so taxing."

"Holy Morgana, that was something," Norman whistled. "Mr. Potter… are you alright?"

Harry, still feeling a little weighed down, nodded dumbly. "Will you please explain to me what the heck is happening?! What is that stick? Why are you wearing those clothes? What… what… who are you?!"

Norman glanced at Lyanna, who shrugged. "Well, how to explain this? Mr. Potter, we are wizards, people who can do magic. We live separately from muggles, people who can't do magic. You…" he paused, looking at the top of his head, "are a wizard too."

Harry's mind was racing. The wizard stopped his explanation, giving him some time to absorb the information. Just as Harry tried to open his mouth, he continued, "I know this is all very unusual to you, but believe me, you'll get used to all of this within days of joining our world."

Interrupting Harry's question once more, he said, "I know you have many questions, but we'll get to those in time. First, we need to take care of the poltergeist. Are you ready?"

He didn't feel he had any options except nodding.

"A poltergeist is a magical spirit. It cannot be destroyed unless its source is destroyed. Even if killed, it will reform near the original source, which is you… However, you have nothing to be worried about. It is now trapped and powerless. As long as you keep this stone in your possession, it can't break out."

OK… He felt like he had met his limit of learning life-changing things for the day. He added some new rules to CRUEL (Crucial Rules for Upbeat and Extended Life) – never lose the stone and learn to use magic at all costs. A few moments passed before he realized what he was being asked. Always keep the stone with me? For my whole life?! What the heck?!

"At all times?! That's insane. I can't always keep a look at it!" He switched his gaze between the two. "Isn't there some magic that can help me to, you know, keep track of it?" He asked hopefully.

It was Lyanna who answered, "There are many spells, not that you will be needing them. The stone will be undetectable to anyone except you, and rest assured, you won't lose it. We can attach it on some sort of charmed jewelry which you can wear all the time. It can be a ring, an earring, a locket, or whatever you want. There are charms to make it impossible for anyone else to remove it." She considered for a moment. "I think we can make a nice pretty ring off of it, don't you? Excuse me for a moment." She took out the pouch again from within her robes, and said "rings". A whole bunch of loose rings jumped into her hands.

"Choose the one you like the most."

I'll have to wear a magical ring now, one which held a poltergeist. That sounded… actually cool. "Others won't be able to see it?" Harry asked looking at them.

"Only those who know of it can sense it."

Harry didn't care much and picked the first one he liked, a simple silver colored ring.

"A silver ring with an emerald stone. I like it!" Lyanna said smiling.

"I personally like the black one," Norman muttered.

"Hmm, black would look good too, but this is much better. The green matches your eyes, not that anyone can see it. How you feel about it is what matters, though," she said as she waved her stick, which made the stone attach to the head of the ring.

Harry took the proffered ring nervously. It felt strange. As if it had an added weight to it. He decided that he liked it. He could almost sense another presence in it.A scene of the poltergeist escaping to wreak havoc when Dudley's Aunt Marge came for a visit flashed in his mind.

"Is there any way it can escape?"

"As Norman said, you have nothing to worry about. After a while you won't even notice it," Lyanna said calmly.

Harry felt an urge to laugh suddenly. Here he was wearing a ring which jailed a poltergeist, a magical spirit, which could escape if he wasn't careful, and he had nothing to worry.

He glanced at the door. As if I don't have things to worry about. Well, onto the important questions.

"Is that stick necessary for doing magic?"

Lyanna laughed, "This is a wand, not a stick. Never call it a stick, or you will offend someone. And no. It isn't necessary; magic manifests itself in many ways – you can use magical artifacts, potions, Animagus transformation, mind magic, and of course there's wandless magic, but it is extremely difficult. You name the form and you can use magic with it. A wand just makes it easier to do magic. But that isn't what you want to ask, is it? Want to know whether you can do magic?"

Harry nodded eagerly.

"Well, you definitely can, and you will. Soon. You'll learn all about it when you'll go to Hogwarts… the magic school. But there are a lot of things you need to know..." She was interrupted by a timid knock on the door.

"Hey, how long till you are finished?" came the gruff complaint from his uncle standing outside.

She looked at the door and then at him. "But first, let's give the muggles something to think about, shall we."

She waved her wand. Harry jumped as loud sounds erupted all over the hall and the kitchen. His aunt and uncle must surely be cowering back to the garden. Aunt Petunia's fading screams which followed the bangs confirmed it.

She was laughing as Norman gave her a pointed look. "Before we start, let's clean up this mess," he said.

She nodded, and both simultaneously moved their wands in a sweeping motion and said, "Repairo." Everything in the house started moving. Broken pieces flew in the air joining together with the pieces that made them whole, as they returned to their original places, places the wizards definitely couldn't have known. Broken toys started reforming, returning to the center of the hall. The TV repaired itself. The bicycle's handle straightened, and it moved smoothly and parked itself near the toys. Water from the floor vanished. The camera flew from the kitchen and moved to its original position. Even his glasses slipped off from his nose and repaired themselves. Everything in the house looked just how Dursleys would have wanted it to. Except for the three of them of course.

Harry was looking at this with his mouth agape. You can repair broken stuff with magic! And they don't even look tired. What else can I do with magic? He wondered. He had to ignore the impulse to jump and laugh uproariously.

A thought entered his mind, "Wait a second." He ran to his cupboard and brought out some of Dudley's old stuff that was now his – his broken crayons, pens and pencils, his torn-out books, his frayed school bag, his torn clothes.

"Can you fix this?" He looked at them hopefully.

"Sure, why not? What's this, your old stuff?" Lyanna asked.

"Um, yeah…"

She silently waved her wand again, and Harry watched the miracle unfold before his eyes. Yeeeass!

"That's brilliant! You guys must never need to buy new things! Or maybe you can create your own things through magic! Wait… can you also fix my bed, and the light-bulb in my cupboard?" Harry regretted it as soon as he said it. He didn't really mean to say it, but his excitement got the better of him.

Norman sighed, "Yes, no problem, Harry."

Harry reluctantly led them to his cupboard.

Harry was sitting on the couch looking gobsmacked, feeling like he had been hit by one bombshell after another. Norman and Lyanna, who were still occasionally casting murderous glares at the cupboard, were sitting in front of him in two armchairs.

Harry had sat on the couch with the fervent hope that he would finally learn what the hell was going on, and about magic, how to learn it, and whether he would be able to go to that school, especially when he had no money. Things had been looking up for him. He had always dreamt that someone, some distant relative would come and take him away. He had looked for ways to change his wretched existence. The sooner the better. The quickest way was to run from the Dursleys. The better way perhaps was to lay his head down, study and get a job.

But now… out of all things… magic, being everywhere, hidden from the common public, like this was some fantasy story. And there was more – his parents were a witch and a wizard too, just like him. There was a whole new magical world out there, and he belonged there. He had money and would get his admission letter to the magic school soon. An owl would deliver him his letter. And this wasn't a dream.

And then there was even more, making things even more surreal. He was famous, like a hero of the fantasy story. Him! Because he killed some super bad dark lord, You-Know-Who, who was so evil that people were still afraid to use his name, even after his death. When he pushed for the name of the person he had apparently killed, they reluctantly told him that he was called Voldemort. And like this was a supervillain in the fantasy story, on 31st October, 10 years ago, he came to his house and killed his parents, who hadn't died in a car crash. Wizards don't travel by cars. It is acceptable in the magical world to refer to a wizard and a witch as wizards and not witches. When Voldemort tried to kill him too, he killed Voldemort by not being killed by the killing curse. And this still wasn't a dream. He was numb by that point.

You are the only one to survive the killing curse. He, who was dressed in these rags, who lived in a cupboard, who was constantly shouted at, and had no friends, didn't feel so special.

All three of them were silent for a while. Harry, pondering on who he was, and the other two looking at him curiously wanting to see how he'd take it.

"I…," he cleared his throat. "Was my family… is this the only family I have?"

"James Potter was the last of the Potters. It is my guess that you were taken to the closest relatives you had on your mother's side," Norman answered. He was quiet for a moment. "Say, Harry, tell us about your relatives. On first glance, they seem like a work of art."

Harry paused. Whenever someone asked this, he replied with the opposite of what came to his mind. There would have been hell to pay if the Dursleys ever found out the truth. But he was now talking to different people, of a different world, about which he knew nothing, and of which he was supposedly a savior. His mind spun. Maybe, that CRUEL rule was no longer necessary. He chose to stick to the truth.

"They are a work of art of a crap artist, alright. They are awful. I wouldn't want to see them if they were the last ones left in this world. No one would," he replied.

They were silent, but their body language told Harry everything they weren't saying.

"Did they – I think I am going to have a word with them, Norman," Lyanna said furiously.

He nodded. "That's what I was thinking. But with restraint," he said pointedly.

"Even if they deserve it?! Which, you know they absolutely do."

"They are still under the jurisdiction of our law, Lyanna. We, most of all, should uphold it."

"I know, I know. These laws made for our own protection! I can see why they were drafted to help us. Merlin forbid, we misuse our magic on these vile people, even if to save one of our own, somehow causing the downfall of our world on the way." She huffed. "If I find out that they'd done anything else, even Dumbledore won't be able to save them, these draconian laws be damned."

Norman sighed. "Well, Harry, is there anything else you wanted to add or ask."

Harry felt that a normal thing to do was to get offended by them talking about his family like that in front of him. But he wasn't normal, was he? And for the first time, he was glad for it. Not wanting to elaborate further though, he asked what was lingering on his mind, "You said a letter would arrive for me soon, and a school's professor would come to take me to buy magic things? When will they come?"

"You want to leave this place soon, huh? You'll receive your acceptance letter about a month from now, and the new term starts on September 1st."

Harry's eyes fell. That meant he'd have to wait another month. He would probably be punished till then by his family.

"Listen, Harry," Norman said, "you never have to worry about your family again. Hell, you shouldn't worry about anything. You are the bloody boy-who-lived for crying out loud!... I'm sorry you were left with these people. But, rest assured, they will never… they will leave you alone from now on," he muttered something under his breath. "And you will have a new room tonight."

Never one to look at a gift horse in the mouth, Harry accepted this readily. "Thank you," he said in a small voice. He doubted he'd ever be able to thank them properly.

"No need to thank us, Harry. We are just doing our jobs," Lyanna said.

Harry nodded, still looking at them reverently.

"And as for the month-long wait, believe me, most of Hogwarts's students go through it. They wait for that exact moment their whole life, dreaming of it every day. When the time finally comes, this wait is what makes the experience all the more precious," she said, smiling at him. "But in the meanwhile, I do believe I have something for you that will keep you occupied."

Lyanna took out her magic pouch again, and said "Gilderoy Lockhart". A large book appeared in her hand.

Was this a magic book?! He saw a blonde man, wearing golden robes, standing proudly on its cover, posing like a model. His eyes widened. The picture was moving and winking at him. He felt a little unsettled looking at the wide grin. He had never seen anyone look so happy. He looked at the title – "Magic Gilderoy Lockhart Didn't Learn at Hogwarts".

"I am not one to judge a book by its cover, but in this case, the book totally matches the cover." Norman coughed, while Lyanna continued," It's a detailed description of magic and the insights the author had on different kinds of magic taught at Hogwarts at different points of his Hogwarts's education. Any wizard worth his gold knows these points, but they are difficult for the students to grasp. It will give you a nice glimpse into Hogwarts and what to expect there."

Harry took the book. A gift. And that too a magic book! He knew what he'd be doing every moment of every day for the next month.

When he tried to thank her, she waved it off and said, "I've personally learned a lot from it, and I have no doubt the practices and theories listed here will prove invaluable to you at Hogwarts. Not that it is essential, of course, but one would be a fool to not make use of it."

"Thank you," he said again. He didn't think any of Dudley's gifts could ever be better than this.

"No need to thank us, Harry," she smiled. "It is us who should be thanking you. The entire wizarding world is indebted to you for what you did for us."

He averted his eyes. He wasn't used to being praised, or even looked at kindly, especially for something he didn't think he deserved.

She then waved her wand at the book. "There, the book will look like one of your old notebooks to the muggles."

"Lyanna, I think it's about time we leave," Norman said pointing to the clock.

"Oh... yeah. I didn't realize it was so late already."

He took out a long brown paper and a quill from his pouch. "Mr. Potter, if that's all, there's one final thing you need to do. You will have to sign this."

Harry took the quill. They had told him that they were from the magical government. It looks like in the magical world too they had to keep records of their job.

"Umm, don't I need some ink to write with this?"

"This is a special quill," was all she said.

Just as he was about to sign it, Lyanna interjected, "That is simply not done, Harry. You should have asked us what this contract is for."

"Come on, Lyanna. Let him be. He is just a child."

"He is Harry Potter for Merlin's wand. If there's anyone in the world who should be prepared, it is him," she said looking at him pointedly.

"You slytherins and your ways." He made an exaggerated motion as if to say, "go ahead."

She threw a displeased look at her partner and then turned to him. "In the magical world, you never sign anything anyone gives you without reading it carefully, and then too only signing if it's absolutely necessary. Imagine what a magical contract could do to you. The reality can be even worse," Lyanna explained staring his directly in the eyes.

Harry stared at her unintelligibly. The thought hadn't even entered his mind. "Umm, ok." He would try to remember this. He hoped he hadn't forgotten any other important stuff told to him today. He pointed the quill where Norman had indicated.

Lyanna cleared her throat. He looked at her questioningly. She stared at him. Was he missing something, or do they also get flu in the magical world?

He went back to the task.

"Don't you have something to ask us?"

Harry paused. Couldn't it wait after he had signed the paper?

"Um, yes. There are loads of questions I want to ask you. I don't know where to start. What kind of–"

"Anything related to this contract," Lyanna interjected, staring at him with a twitch on her lips.

Searching for what she was looking for, he looked at the paper and blushed. "Why should I sign this paper?" he asked, too embarrassed to look at their faces.

Norman interjected, "This is taking too long. Mr. Potter, this whole process of capturing a poltergeist is considered extremely confidential by the ministry. After signing this parchment, not paper, you are magically contracted to the ministry to never divulge the information that you have a ring imprisoning a poltergeist to anyone. Like Lyanna told you, you should read the contract carefully. It's not like we have anywhere else to be."

Harry flipped the pages. The contract was seven pages long! She nodded at his questioning glance. He sighed and read through the parchment. Half an hour later, he was finished. It described over and over what he had been told, just using different words, some that he didn't understand. The consequences of breaking the contract would be imprisonment at Azkaban, whatever it was, for varying terms depending on the severity of the breach. Disclosing it to another wizard resulted in a 7-year term, to a house elf resulted in a 1-year term, to a muggleborn resulted in a 15-year term, and the list went on. That didn't sound good to him. Why was all this so confidential. He felt the answer would just raise more questions, especially since it was all so completely alien to him. Well, it's not like I'd ever break it anyway.

"What's Azkaban?" Harry asked after signing the contract. He thought he would feel something, some sort of sensation, like he did when the poltergeist was captured, but he didn't.

"It's the magical prison. It's the last place anyone would ever want to be," Norman said as he collected the parchment and placed it in a file where it acrobatically folded and inserted itself to one of the slabs.

"Let's handle that family of yours now."

What happened next was in line with how the day was shaping up to be. After inviting Dursleys into their own house, they were explained how the poltergeist was now destroyed and they should never utter a word about it to anyone. They were also threatened that the Ministry of Magic has added this house to their list of potent magical sites and it'd be under constant supervision. They were harshly chastised for their treatment of him and about the cupboard in particular. A few demonstrations of magic later, even Uncle Vernon was cowering like a pack of sheep would in front of ravenous wolves. It felt good to be on the other side for once. He could certainly understand the appeal of it.

After Norman and Lyanna left, there was a brief staring contest, which Harry didn't lose. If he had beaten the most powerful dark lord this century, then he certainly wouldn't back down to these… what did Lyanna call them? Oh yes, worthless muggles. He was ordered to shift his possessions to Dudley's second bedroom. Harry did so after muttering another "Happy Birthday" to a still bawling Dudley. It took him one round to shift his things upstairs, and another 30 minutes to clean the room. There were too many things that Dudley had broken or didn't like now, that were thrown across the room.

That night, Harry was sitting in a chair sifting through the book gifted to him, when he was visited by an owl for the first time. At first, he had thought that the poltergeist had escaped again, but then remembered that in the wizarding world, his world, owls were actually used for long distance communication. It tapped the window with its legs. He was quite excited as he opened the windows. I am a wizard. He paid complete attention to the owl, which looked at him owlishly. She gave a hoot, which he felt communicated her annoyance, and jerked her leg towards him. There was a letter tied to it. Harry carefully untied the letter and opened it eagerly.

Harry,

Just checking up on you after the round with your relatives. I want to know if anything of consequence occurred after we left.

Send me your reply at once using the owl that delivered this. I will know if you are lying - I can do magic.

Your friend,

Lyanna Traymere

A warm, gentle feeling resided inside of him long into the night. He was extremely grateful for her concern about him. If Lyanna and Norman were any indications, he was going to love the wizarding world. He looked at the new ring on his finger after he finished his letter. It was quite beautiful. "You were a lot of trouble, you know. But I guess I should be thanking you."

For the first time in many days, Harry slept with a smile on his face. He was quite glad that a poltergeist came to haunt him.

Lyanna was walking leisurely to her current office, one that she shared with Norman. She had done things today that she wasn't exactly allowed to do, but it wasn't anything too out of the books. She was thrilled with how the day went. Today was the momentous day of her life, if there ever is one. She couldn't believe her fortune. She had just met Harry Potter and not just met him, but got into his good graces. She knew people who'd kill for such an opportunity. Here was the most famous wizard of the wizarding world, one who would be a very important player in the future for sure, and he knew nothing. Absolutely nothing. He didn't have anyone to confide in or look up to. He knew nothing about the rules of the game, or what was expected of him. Admittedly, he was just about to start his Hogwarts education, but still, he was Harry Potter! At his age, she was already planning her way to the top. And here he was, handed all the face cards one could ever need. It blew her mind that no one had tried to get on to his good side and ride his coattails for their personal self-serving agenda.

The situation begged the question – what should she do now? This might be the most important thing she would ever get to do. I have finally drawn a winning hand on the turn. It was up to her to now capitalize on it. She had already taken the first step – to establish the correspondence, the initiation as they called in Slytherin circles, giving him something valuable, something useful. The letter today will be the catalyst for establishing further communication with him. She was sure he'd appreciate someone to answer the questions he'd bound to have. And well, there's nothing wrong with using him to accomplish my personal self-serving agenda.

Her letter had reached today, but there were bound to be some wards intercepting his mails. She would have to check up on them. She was planning to send him another letter next week, one that should knock down whatever delusions he had about the wizarding world and about his place in it, and also cement her place as one of his well-wishers. And when she penetrates up to his comfort level, she would make sure he is prepared for anyone else who attempts to do so. It was when she reached the office that her rumination ended.

Sitting on a chair, was a tall old man with horribly flamboyant robes, and a large white mustache, humming a tune that she didn't recognize (Ghostbusters), and solving crosswords in the Daily Prophet.

He beamed at her when she entered and spread his arms. "Ms. Traymere! I just arrived here. It's good to see you looking so particularly jolly… or you were before you saw me."

She forced herself to smile, certain that he could see through it. She wondered again, as she had countless times before, how he always looked so genuine. "I was just surprised, Headmaster. It's good to see you too. What brings you here?" She had a nagging suspicion why he was here. Idiot. It was not a suspicion. She could think of just one reason for which he was here, and it brought up an ugly taste in her mouth. There are always other players in the game. How could you forget?!

"I am glad. I don't want to take much of your time, as I'm sure you have some very important work to do. But, ahh, what do they say, not everyone gets what they deserve, or something like that anyway. I must be getting old. Come sit, we have a lot to discuss," he said as if it was his office.

A/N: Hope you liked it :)