Author's Note: As many writers have done, whether publicly or privately, I have a list of ideas of stories that I want to write or scenes that frankly wouldn't leave me alone. Here are a few. Anyone who feels inspired by these are welcome to borrow and play around with them. Just cite your sources…
Everything presented here is written as just a rough draft and given a cursory read over and spell check. If someone comments with errors, I may look at it, but that depends on the idea and if I'm interested enough to correct it. Sometimes, my muse just fixates on a scene until I get it written down.
I feel like I should preface this with a few tidbits:
Goblins - I like them. I've worked with some people over the years that sometimes are rude and get straight to the point, but I know what to expect from them. Sometimes, I don't need the niceties. Sometimes I need to know the job is going to get done.
Pairings - I didn't really like the pairings at the end of the novels. Harry/Ginny came out of nowhere to me. Ron/Hermione argue too much. I am married, in the double digits of years now. That kind of constant fighting would not make for a pleasant home life. I'm not particularly invested in any pairing, though several of my ideas have led to Luna/Harry pairings, even then, I don't say it's happily ever after. They're teenagers. It's doubtful they have a happily ever after at that age.
Deaths - Wow. I have to bash Rowling here. What the heck? "Hey, Harry, I killed your parents, made you kill a professor, then you got to watch your classmate, your godfather, and your pet die, then there's your sort of uncle and his wife...basically, love something and it'll die." That's the lesson most kids would take from this. I think he'd self-destruct. I tend to give him back things or skip over some. I get that sometimes people die, but seriously.
Dumbledore - Meh. Maybe he's good, maybe he's evil...more likely he's a man trying to make his civilization the best it can be and he's flawed anyway. No man is perfect (or woman either, for those who want to make that argument).
The notes basically complete, let's get to my first scene.
Scene Oriented Author's Note: Many of my ideas come from the "What if?" question. In reading a recent story called Heart and Soul (I don't recall the author's name), there was an argument between Harry and Hermione over something that Harry did. Her response had surprised me a little and it made me think a bit about the fight over the Potion's book in Half Blood Prince. What if she carried that a little further?
I deviate from canon in this little blurb, but also beforehand. In this version, Hermione's behavior really started beforehand, possibly similarly to the change that led to Forging a New Name. For whatever reason, Harry does not take Dumbledore's advice about the prophecy and does not share it with Ron and Hermione.
As always, I do not own Harry Potter or any character, story element or plot item originally published in the Harry Potter books or movies that I may refer to in this story. I'm merely playing in the sandbox.
Despite his start at the school, Harry actually found he enjoyed studying. Magic was something he was good at. His early years had given him some pause and he'd had to seek help in what some found to be easy, but sitting in the Common Room, books out and doing homework was a pleasant time.
It wasn't strange, though, when he put more thought to it. There was no running. No screaming. No death. There was the sound of the warm fireplace cracking and the occasional page turn, ridges of fingertips running along the text as someone worked on an essay or read. At his table, parchment was being scratched as Ron and he worked on a Potions essay.
"I see you have that book out again."
Peace shattered; Harry sighed. He didn't look up though.
"Harry, I told you that's cheating."
Hermione continued and Harry heard a few frustrated sounds from the others. It had been this way for weeks now and not even intervention by the professors had helped. After the first few days, he'd decided to show Slughorn the book. The older man had, at first, been disappointed that he'd had additional assistance, but then acknowledged that he'd heard problems with the foundations some students were having. Slughorn had given him a list of suggested texts to help him go back and repair some of his brewing issues.
Harry had then gone to McGonagall and the strict instructor herself had confirmed that having additional material was not only allowable but encouraged. This had only exacerbated things. Hermione had lost points with McGonagall and almost lost her badge during the argument. The resulting confrontation led to the extra instructions being publicized in the Common Room. The other students responded by having a Seventh Year borrowing the book and duplicating the notes chapter by chapter for everyone. Gryffindor potions grades had gone up for all students, save one.
Hermione's shrill protests continued, and Harry glanced up, catching Ron rolling his eyes. That had been another change. Ron's obvious crush on their friend was long gone. He'd taken up with Lavender and seemed happy. Harry wished him well. Ginny and Luna had distanced themselves from Hermione, too. Soon, only Harry was willing to speak to her and that was waning.
Hermione was sitting next to Ron, seeming not to notice the redhead edging away from her as she continued to mutter. Harry finished what he wanted to write on the essay, then closed his two books, stowing them. He blew on the ink to dry it, then promptly dumped the remainder of that bottle on her essay.
"Hey!"
"I'm sorry, did I interrupt you trying to do your homework?"
He didn't say another word, walking to the stairs and heading up to the room, slamming the door behind him as he entered it. He sat on his bed, slinging his bag to the foot of it and thought about everything that had happened. Voldemort. The prophecy. His godfather's death. Hermione's behavior.
The more he thought about it, the more he was glad he didn't listen to Dumbledore about sharing the prophecy. Between Hermione's constant badgering and Ron's panic at the name of Voldemort, neither would have handled it well.
Plan B, it is.
Hearing the prophecy and finally getting answers to all of his questions settled things for him. He was getting out of the game. He'd started writing letters and found Gringotts very helpful. Sirius's will was read in a private meeting, the real will that is. A public dispensation of properties was given to other people involved, leading to Dumbledore's request to see if Kreacher would answer his call had been funny to him. He already knew about the property and the money coming to him. Of course, he probably should have been clearer when Dumbledore asked, but he was still annoyed with the man for years of secrets and years of pain.
He slipped down to his bag and pulled out a list. It had been a check sheet of sorts, things he needed to do before making his way on his own and everything was ready. He just had to say the word.
He looked at the bottom of the list, a rune cluster of some sort, he didn't know the details. Harry just had the instructions from his last letter, the one that returned the list to him as the Black account manager had finished the details. "Touch your wand to your finger and make a small cut. Drop a single drop of blood into the center of the cluster and the process will start. Then call your elf and have it transport your trunk here. You know the rest."
Harry stood and pulled out his invisibility cloak, packing away his bag and all his property except for a jumper for warmth and parchment to write a note. It was longer than he thought it would be, but he wanted to explain it all. After a moment's thought, he added a postscript, signed his initials, and folded it.
"Kreacher."
There was a pop and a grumble, but Kreacher didn't say anything out loud. Harry had ordered him never to speak again unless asked a direct question and added that the old elf should never insult him again.
"At midnight tonight, you are to take this trunk to Gorefang's office in Gringotts. You will remain there. While there, let him know that I'm following one of our planned paths for me to join him. If you insult him, I've told him there'd be no penalty to execute you." As he added the last, he wondered if he'd have an elf by sunrise tomorrow. "Do you understand?"
"Yes." The elf glared as he spoke.
"Return to the kitchen and do not leave there until midnight. Do not tell anyone of my orders."
There was another pop and Harry was alone. "Three more hours."
He climbed into bed and pulled the curtains closed. His shoes were where they normally were when he slept. His parchment, both the list with the escape clause and the note for the school, were with him. His wand was in his hand. Nothing else was out of place. Three hours was a long time for things to go wrong. He sealed the curtains and waited.
The others returned and went to bed. No one bothered him. It was anticlimactic. It was boring. It was perfect.
He waited until he heard Ron snoring and then rose. As he did, the bell tolled midnight. As expected, Kreacher did not arrive. "Kreacher!" Harry hissed out and the elf appeared. "Take that trunk to Gorefang's office now."
The elf snapped his fingers and disappeared. Harry hoped his first words on arrival were something insulting to the goblin and that he died messily. It would serve him right for betraying Sirius. With that, he walked downstairs.
The fire still crackled, and he stopped, taking the sight in. It had been home to him for several years, until now.
"Where are you going?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure you'll just tear into me more later."
"I'm a prefect. If you go out, I'll put you in detention."
"What is this about, Granger?" Harry said, turning towards her. "What is your problem?"
"Why can't you just be a student, Harry? Sneaking around, adventures...it's almost gotten us killed."
"People did die...and I didn't really ask for it, did I?"
"Not all of them, but Sirius would never have left that house if you'd just listened to me…" By her saying me, Harry's wand was in his hand and he silently stunned her.
"Well, Snape might not sneer at that."
She was sprawled in the chair, head back. Her book, oddly, one of the potions texts he was referring to as he worked on catching up, fell to the floor. He opened it and laid it across her stomach, as though she'd fallen asleep with it on her lap. "Bye, Granger."
He laid the note on the table in front of her and walked out, Invisibility cloak on before he pushed open the portrait. His walk was slow as he took in the corridors and portraits, most sleeping, though Sir Cadogan was trying to get a game of cards up with some annoyed looking wizards in one. He'd miss this place. Part of it.
As he passed the entrance to the Great Hall, he heard a hissing sound. Mrs. Norris stood there, looking at him. He kicked her. He'd always wanted to kick that cat and hearing her screech and run was satisfying.
Soon, he was on the path to the Quidditch Arena. His goal was his locker in the locker room, the one that held his broom. Soon, he was standing in the pitch, broom under the crook of his arm. He added the blood to the rune cluster and the parchment vanished. With that, he climbed on his broom and began the flight to a point he'd selected on the map. It was about an hour from everything, but the Knight Bus's route, if you could call that infernal device's path a route, should have him in London to Diagon Alley by four in the morning.
The wind was bitter, and he found himself glad for the sweater and the cloak, which clung to him well. "Freedom, here I come."
Neville found Harry's bed empty the next morning and frowned. "Harry's not usually a morning person."
Ron sat up and stared blearily at him. "What of it?"
"He's gone. His bed's made. How early did he get up?"
"Who knows? Maybe he's trying to get his homework turned in without Granger yelling at him. I swear, she harps at him like she owns him or something."
"Or wants to," Seamus said, laughing, but no one joined.
"Like that'll ever happen. Last year, maybe, but Potter's ready to curse her." Dean said.
Ron grumbled. "Let's go down to breakfast, maybe he's there already and just avoiding the latest tirade."
They staggered downstairs and stopped when they saw Hermione. Ron made a joke about her lying in wait for Harry, but Neville noticed the note. He lifted it, read a few lines, then stopped. He stared long and hard at the note.
"Hey, she's not sleeping...I think she's been stunned."
Neville drew his wand and ennervated her. "Wha...what happened?"
"What have you done?"
"Where is Potter? That boy stunned me!"
Neville decided to follow in Harry's footsteps and silenced her, to the shock of the others in the room. "Ron, go get Professor McGonagall. We have a problem."
"You silenced her!"
"I wasn't going to stun her, and I definitely wasn't going to listen to her anymore. She was the last straw for him. Harry left."
Ron took the note, glanced at the first two paragraphs, and shook his head. "I never...nice work, Hermione. Not even Malfoy managed this one." He handed the parchment back to Neville and ran for the door.
Hermione grabbed his arm, shaking it to get his attention, but Neville shoved her back, then smirked. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but it's for your own good." His wand flicked again, and she stiffened up, falling to the floor. "Maybe we'll see if you like being left that way for a while."
McGonagall arrived shortly and, after freeing her, silenced her with a stern command rather than a spell. She read the letter, then held it out for her. "I'll save you the beginning, Ms. Granger. It says he's had enough and won't take anymore. The last paragraph is for you."
She spoke aloud as she read it. "P.S. Congratulations, Hermione. You don't have to worry about me cheating anymore. In fact, just pretend you never met me. You showed me that my friendship was only valuable to you until your status as best in class was at risk."
She looked up at McGonagall, who only shook her head. "I tried to speak to you about this. I had high hopes for you, but none of my prefects have ever managed to brow beat a student right out of school. I'll take your badge now. You were warned to leave this be."
Hermione handed over her prefect badge, not looking up. "I don't know how long this will be for, but this will be at least a week's suspension of privileges."
Harry sat in the bank and was handed a newspaper. The headline was clear. "Harry Potter Leaves Britain, Ministry Fails Him for Last Time." He spoke the words aloud, enjoying the sound of it. The article was a letter to the British public, listing off the failings of their society and informing them of his departure.
"Thank you, Gorefang."
"We do our best for our valued clients." The goblin smiled. "Besides, this will move money and that is always profitable for us."
He gestured to three portkeys on the desk. "I don't know which of the three are which. Your elf could have followed you, but on his arrival...he lost his head."
"Pity. He murdered my godfather, just as sure as if he held the wand."
The goblin's grin was broader this time. "You set him up, then."
"Just left the door open. I knew he'd likely walk through."
"I took the liberty of procuring another elf for you. This one was at Hogwarts but wanted a family."
An elf in a dress appeared. "Winky?"
"Harry Potter, sir?"
They moved through the motions of bonding, then he asked her to wait his call and to bring his trunk with him. "What kind of blowback can I expect?"
"Little. This is legal and Gringotts stands ready to move your vault on your arrival. The fortune stays with Gringotts, so we stay liquid. We just get to impose some harsher measures since Gringotts London's liquidity declines."
Harry nodded, then handed over three envelopes. "Ensure these end up in the hands of the Malfoys when they arrive. The note to the Tonks' family, I'll send with Winky. Go in prepared. I expect that the retraction of the dowry, the expulsion of Narcissa and the notice to dear Draco that the expulsion and the ending of the marriage of his parents renders him unattached to the Black dynasty will…be interesting."
Harry rose, then looked to Gorefang for the last time. "Goodbye and thank you."
"Keep your head down, Mr. Potter."
"I plan to."
He touched a portkey and felt the whirling sensation. Soon, his feet touched down and he felt a terrible pain in his head, a snapping sound, then he felt clear again. "What was that?"
"Sir, are you okay?"
"Yes, yes…"
"Excellent. Welcome to Gringotts Boston. And, welcome to America, Mr. Potter."
He held over his new credentials, his new legal name for business outside of the bank. "That's Mr. Black. Evan James Black."
Author's note (because you can never have enough): So, Harry leaves. The snapping sensation? Maybe the horcrux broke from the distance. Maybe it was the tracking tools Dumbledore had. Maybe it was something else. Who knows?
The alias, while completely unclever and absolutely obvious to anyone with common sense, is a favorite of mine. I use it in two projects that I can think of, possibly a third…never grow old, guys. Memory is the something something to something. I do like it. It's an honor to his mother, his father, and his godfather.