And we're on to chapter ten! Yippeee!

Now we get to have a few scenes explaining everything that has gone on, bringing it all together, yes?

The ritual, the wishing magic, all of it. Even the dementor. And then, finally, the real healing can begin.

But first, more from Scortwit!

—0—

The gray sky betrayed the summer heat that every individual in Diagon alley was experiencing. Several witches and wizards slowly shuffled between shops, sweating beneath their heavy robes.

Scortwit had no troubles with the heat, and he never had any trouble with the cold either. It was a circumstance of working with dragons, being near their blazing fire breath or searching for them in high peaks really did a number on ones tolerance.

The wizard frowned as he looked at the sky. The clouds were much too dark for the current heat. Everyone was thinking it, but Scortwit inherently knew that something was wrong. Something was happening.

The man decided to think on the matter later as he entered quality quidditch supplies. He figured that any child would enjoy the feeling of a broom, and so he had taken a substantial amount of coin to make it happen.

The man perused the shelves and bins, some filled with gloves or goggles, others filled with petrified bludgers or dormant snitches.

A shelf with quaffle boxes sat alongside the other two balls, and beside that, a locked case filled with quidditch memorabilia, some of it signed, others just recovered from famous matches.

There was Ernie Ernest's broken comet 180, the only thing remaining from the very last quidditch death in history. Scortwit winced as he looked closer. That was when bludgers were still made from old cannonballs.

A signed picture of the Egyptian national quidditch team, clad in uniform and standing stoically in line. Scortwit nodded at the picture before continuing on, not wishing to stay in one place for too long. He still had much to do before returning to Gringotts.

The latest broom model made the man wince as he looked at the price. Two thousand galleons? Certainly, it did travel at a maximum speed of one hundred and ten per hour, but his truck had cost him less than a quarter of that and could do a hundred and eighty!"

"Caught your eye huh? It's a wallet burner, that model is."

Scortwit turned to see a woman with spiky gray hair and yellow eyes, the skin at the corners of which, crinkled as she smiled.

"Hello Charles. It's wonderful to see you."

"Rolanda? Well I'll be tickled! I wasn't expecting to see you."

The witch gave the man a hug. "I wasn't expecting to see you here either! You've said hello to Maldy, have you not?"

Scortwit nodded, his cheeks turning a bit pink. The woman saw this and chuckled. "So, what are you here for? I've heard that you stop into the alley every so often, but never here."

Scortwit nodded. "A bit of a funny story. I've found myself in a situation that requires me to care for a child."

The woman's eyes sparked as her smile shrunk. "A child?"

"As I told Maldy, it's nothing like that. They were injured badly when I found them. Wherever they're from… they cannot be allowed to go back."

The woman nodded. "I see… so, quidditch supplies?"

"I was told to find a sort of gift that they could toy with. I figured a broom would do."

The woman nodded and leaned over to read the broom's description.

"The nimbus nineteen and ninety, the latest model of the Nimbus company, displaying the patented nimbus boot rests and tapered tail. Capable of speeds of one hundred and ten miles per hour, this broom is the perfect model for those seeking a foothold in professional matches."

"Only problem is it carved that foothold out of the galleons I'd waste on it…"

The witch shrugged. "If I were you, I'd go ask to see their used stock. This is for a child, so they would need to learn on something with a bit more control and a touch less speed."

Scortwit blinked. "Rolanda Hooch, you wonderful witch, you!"

Scortwit quickly ran over to the counter and rang a bell next to the pay books. A moment later, a man with scraggly hair stumbled out from the back of the shop. "How can I help you?"

Scortwit smiled broadly at the man. "I was wondering if I may be able to see your used stock of brooms?"

The shopkeeper looked up and saw the silver haired witch behind Scortwit. The woman gave a wink, prompting the shopkeeper to roll his eyes. "Certainly. Just a moment."

The shopkeeper turned and walked back into the bowels of the store. A bit of clattering emanated from the back room, before the man stumbled out with several bundles of cloth.

Scortwit watched as the shopkeeper took the first bundle and unrolled it, revealing a scratched up broom with a few broken twigs. "Used well, an old shooting star."

Scortwit looked at the broomstick, before shaking his head. "Sorry, what else do you have?"

"How about this one? It's in better shape, but the enchantments are damaged from magic. A good old cleansweep."

Scortwit shook his head. "No… that one actually seems rather dangerous."

The shopkeeper nodded, before raising a finger. "Most of these are quite worn out or damaged, but I do have one that's… we'll, it's a bit unique."

Scortwit blinked as the man walked back into the room behind the counter, taking the unopened bundles with him. A few moments later, he returned with a dusty black case.

Rolanda gasped behind Scortwit. "Is that what I think it is?"

The shopkeeper took a breath and blew the dust off of the case, revealing artwork of an arrow, colored the purest silver. Atop the arrow was a signature reading 'Leonard J.'

"A silver arrow… I thought that they were all losing their touch and becoming uncontrollable…" Rolanda breathed.

The shopkeeper nodded. "The truth is that Leonard Jewkes, the maker of the silver arrow, was much more of an advanced broomsmith than others in that time. He placed spells upon the broom to reduce the maximum speed. After those spells faded, the brooms true speed shone through. This one is a special case…"

"A special case?" Rolanda blinked.

"Indeed. This broom actually used to belong to my daughter, that was before he-who-must-not-be-named rose to power. This is what remains of her. It has sentimental value, but it really does need a new home…"

Scortwit shook his head. "Sir… I couldn't possibly-"

The shopkeeper shook his head. "Please. It would do my heart well to know that a part of her was still flying. The speed reduction charm is still upon it, should last for another few years."

Rolanda looked at the broom. "My old arrow was a dream before it began speeding up… turned on a simple touch…"

The shopkeeper nodded. "Jewkes was ahead of his time when he made these. He fashioned the handles from hand carved mahogany, braided in a strand of steel… the core of the broom is covered in runes, if you didn't know… and each stick in the tail was delicately picked and mulled over, making certain that the broom could always fly as fast and as true as an arrow. I wouldn't be surprised if the maximum speed of one can compete with the next four generations of brooms!"

Scortwit nodded. "Very well then… how much?"

"I suppose anything more than three hundred galleons would be robbery… how about we call it two fifty?"

"Take four hundred, please. This was your daughters… it must go for more than that."

The shopkeeper nodded. "Thank you… inside that will be the broom, along with everything needed to care for it. A polishing cloth, broom handle oil, tail correcting tweezers, etcetera."

"Thank you… would it be possible to purchase a few snitches, as well as a quaffle?"

"Certainly! It's a galleon for a snitch and three for a quaffle."

Scortwit handed over the coin and allowed the shopkeeper to package the golden snitches, along with the quaffle. With a final thank you, and a hug from Rolanda, Scortwit left the shop with a successful purchase, and a new story.

The shopkeeper smiled as he saw the man leave, before he turned to Rolanda. "Madam Hooch. What can I do for you today?"

"I was sent to purchase a few comet 260's for the school… would you be able to help?"

—0—

A steady drip of water woke Harry from their short bout of rest. The child's eyes fluttered open as a drop splattered upon the tip of their nose.

Harry grunted, sitting up quickly before laying their palms upon the ground. "I feel like I was hit by a truck."

A chuckle sounded from beside the child, causing their head to whip towards it.

Standing roughly ten feet away, dressed in gray robes, was a hideous short humanoid creature. Harry fought back the urge to scream as he saw it, before blinking as the fear faded.

"What, never seen a goblin before?"

Harry blinked. "...Goblin?"

The creature chuckled and hobbled a bit closer. Picking up a rather short stool that Harry hadn't seen along the way. The goblin set the stool down in front of Harry and sat down upon it.

"Indeed. And if you haven't seen a goblin, then I am sure you don't know what a wizard is?"

Harry shook his head. "Wizards can do magic. Apparently… I can do the same."

The goblin smirked. "You can indeed do the same. You are a Wizard… or rather, now you are a witch."

"A witch? I don't understand…"

The goblin tilted its head as it began to explain. "Humans who are able to do magic are listed in two categories. Wizards, who are male, and witches, who are female. When you were brought here… your body had been horrifically altered."

Harry curled inward a bit, drawing their knees up to their chest. "I- I know… it's because I'm a freak."

The goblin paused, before sighing. "You are but a child, the fault does not lie with you, rather those who don't understand. They defiled you…"

The child looked down at their lap.

"Whatever the case may be, there is no excuse for what you were subjected to. It was almost beyond us."

Harry nodded. "I'm sorry for being a bother… And erm… Thank you for healing me."

The goblin chuckled. "It is a light matter. Besides, you are the reason for a gathering of healers that hasn't been seen in a long time. In fact, the main healer who channeled the magic for the healing ritual is now being sworn in to a position among the royal medicus. We serve the king directly, as well as aid in the other medical branches of gringotts when needed."

Harry blinked. "Really?"

"Indeed. She will also be a medicus who has a very specific patient, that only she will be linked to."

"Wait…" Harry's eyes widened. "You mean me?"

"Indeed! Through the healing magic, you two have been linked together. She channeled the soul of Maglu, the goblin goddess of fertility. By restoring your body to a state with the gift of bearing a child, she in turn lost her own fertility, but by magic, became your goblin mother."

Harry looked at his hands. "So… she can't have children because of me?"

"Spearmint lost her life mate many years ago, this was a gift that she wished to give. Now, you are a patient tied to her. When your new guardian returns, we will go through your standing in gringotts and your heritage. She will be named as your family medicus."

Harry nodded and looked at the goblin. "My guardian?"

"The man who saved you, who brought you here. I know only of him, and what he does. I would be honored to actually meet him in person. It's because of him that we deal with many less dragon based injuries here in gringotts."

Harry blinked. Dragons. The goblin had just spoken of dragons.

"Besides that, we have some time to burn. He is out purchasing items for your comfortable living. We should go over the effects of the ritual. What it did to you. And there are a few other concerning matters that we should look into."

Harry nodded. "The ritual… you said that I can… I can have children, right? If I am now a witch, I assume that… I'm a girl?"

"Your body has been changed to be that of a female. It is unfortunate that there were no other options, but even magic has its limits. The ritual is very taxing. It requires many materials, the magic of many healers, and a living medium to channel Maglus power. It was made during the great wars, as a way to restore the blessings of Maglus to those who had been tormented by wizards and witches."

Harry blinked. "Tormented by-"

The goblin nodded. "Wizardkind and Goblins didn't get along well, in fact, we still don't get along perfectly. We can live peacefully, but agreeing to live with our peace based off of nothing but gold… it is a flawed system."

"How is peace over gold flawed?"

The goblin smirked. "Because it only has value because it is agreed that it has value. Gold's value constantly fluctuates, if it is driven too low… that seems like a weak rope to support everything upon."

Harry nodded. "I think I get that…"

"Regardless, the ritual was made for the express purpose of giving one's fertility back. The only issue with it, is that the end result is always female. The ritual cannot fix the male anatomy, only turn it to viable female anatomy."

"I… think I get that too."

"It is quite alright if you don't understand it." The goblin chuckled. "You will, someday I am certain."

Harry nodded. "What about the other things? Concerning matters?"

"Of course." The goblin nodded. "Are you aware that your body holds the souls of two people?"

The child blinked, before looking down. "Yes… I do."

The goblin blinked. "Oh?"

"I… I have seen visions of a skeleton. It speaks to me, tells me things. It told me that there was another in my body when I was still at… that place."

"This place… was the other soul in control of your body while you were there?"

"For most of the time, yes. She was subjected to most of the trauma that this body went through, and it shattered her."

"Her?"

"Originally he, until the shock treatments broke her mind."

'Electroshock therapy. They put a child in a mental institution…'

"What happened to this place?"

Harry but his lower lip. "It's gone. She used magic, burned it to the ground, along with everything within it."

The goblins eyes widened in surprise, before he quickly settled down and cleared his throat. "Well… the fact that the soul's mind was… shattered by these treatments. It makes a little more sense now."

"It does?"

"When you arrived here, when you were placed upon the table, that is… I am told that a dementor was born from your body."

"A dementor?"

"A creature devoid of soul. It eats the souls of the living, and makes them feel despair. They are made of discarded memories, or broken minds."

Harry blinked. "Ella…"

"Can you feel another soul still within you? Try to feel around with your mind."

Harry closed his eyes and did as instructed. The child's soul could sense something abnormal clinging to them, centered around their scar. As their mind brushed up against it, they were greeted by flashing memories. Fire, death, crazed laughter, red eyes.

"It's her… but the mind is so… jumbled."

"Indeed. There is a complicated area that came after diagnosing you. You and the other soul are splitting apart."

Harry blinked. "But… isn't that a good thing?"

The goblin shrugged. "In most cases, it would be. But in your case, no. The soul is bound to your magic. If it were to split, both it, and you, would be destroyed in an explosion of magic."

Harry's eyes widened. "Is there any way to prevent it?"

The goblin winced. "There is one… but it would be incredibly difficult to do."

"Tell me."

"There is a substance known as the elixir of life. It is only made by one man, who's whereabouts are unknown. The main component for the elixir is a stone that can turn lead into gold, the philosophers stone. It is the highest circle of magical alchemy known. The elixir would reinforce the tie between you and this shard of soul, but you would have to drink it soon."

"How soon?"

"Within the next three years."

Harry blinked, before looking down at the ground. "So… I have three years…"

"Three years to find Nicholas Flamel. Although, there is another way…"

Harry looked up at the goblin. "Another way?"

"There is a vault that holds a sample of the philosopher's stone. It is to be opened within the next year to set a trap for a dark wizard at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. If you were stealthy, you could infiltrate the school and obtain the stone. Making the elixir would be the next step…"

Harry nodded. "That's as good a place to start as any. At least then, I have a chance."

The goblin nodded. "I can obtain some books on alchemy in the coming months, and I will send them to your guardian so that you may learn."

"Thank you…"

"Master Grandscalpel, Spearmint wakes!"

The goblin smiled at Harry.

"Would you like to meet your goblinmother?"

—0—

And there's chapter ten. As I said, bringing everything together. Explaining the ritual, the dementor, the horcrux, and setting up the main issue for this first installment.

Also, the silver arrow. I wanted Harry to have a broom different from the nimbus and the firebolt, one that would set up a connection between Scortwit and the school. Once Hooch sees who has the broom, who do you think she will inform?

Anyways, until next time.

Adios.