Welcome back.
This chapter was really fun to write, but my time was unfortunately limited. I will try to stick to at least one release every second week, with the goal of once weekly.
Please comment your opinions about the longer chapters and if I should do shorter ones or stick with this length.
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Have fun!
Thank you ZedGreene for editing this
This chapter is dedicated to my Firefighter group. Thank you for all the good times we have and stay as you are.
Under the cloak of his well crafted transfiguration, Harry Potter navigated the bustling streets of Diagon Alley with staggering feet. The brisk evening was casting a golden glow over the cobblestone path, illuminating the storefronts along with their array of magical wares. Harry's destination was Flourish and Blotts, the famous bookstore known to every Hogwarts student. Today, however, he wasn't seeking school books, but texts regarding British lordships and wizarding law. Before confronting the ministry, he must know the privileges, Garnok, the Gringotts leader, had hinted to him.
The bell above the door rang like a fairy as Harry set foot inside the shop, the familiar scent of fresh parchment and ink filling his eyes gazed upon towering shelved with multicolored stacks of unassorted books. Moving cautiously among the aisles, his eyes scanned titles that ranged from alchemy, runes and wizarding history to standard household spells.
Harry's search was never-ending and the books he found on wizarding law were either too specific on other topics or not specific enough. Even those touching pureblood traditions seemed sanitized, offering little beyond common knowledge. As hours passed by his frustrations grew, the weight of his task pressing on him.
As Harry perused he couldn't help but overhear a hushed conversation. Two cloaked figures stood in a secluded corner of the store, their voices low and secretive. In desperation, Harry edged closer under the guise of examining a nearby bookshelf.
"You sure we can trust him?" one whispered, his voice filled with uncertainty.
"The dealer? We don't really have another option than to trust him. He's the only one who trades this kind of knowledge," the other replied, her tone confident yet cautious. "Rare texts, forbidden tomes… things you won't find in any ordinary library."
Harry's interest piqued. This could be what he was looking for. He casually drifted closer, pretending to scrutinize a book's spine.
"Excuse me," Harry interjected, feigning innocence. In his desperation, he needed to get this information, uncaring for the high risk. "I couldn't help but overhear. You're talking about a book dealer?
The pair exchanged a wary glance before scrutinizing man's eyes narrowed, assessing him.
"And why would such a thing interest a young wizard like you?" He asked, his voice laced in suspicion.
Harry met his gaze squarely, maintaining his casual facade. "I'm searching for… certain books. Hard to find ones. I heard you mention someone who might help."
The woman tilted her head, examining Harry with a mix of curiosity and caution. "This dealer deals in the rarest of texts, things not meant for the faint of heart. What kind of 'certain books' are you looking for?"
Realizing this was a pivotal moment, Harry leaned in, lowering his voice to match their conspiratorial tone. "I'm interested in ancient wizarding laws, the kind of knowledge that has been lost to time. I believe there's much to learn from the past, secrets that can help us understand our present." `
The pair shared a look, a silent conversation passing between them. Finally, the man nodded slowly. "Alright, this dealer you seek, he operates in Knockturn Alley."
He scribbled something on a piece of parchment and handed it to Harry. It was a set of cryptic directions, twisting through the darker parts of Knockturn Alley.
"And remember," the woman added, her eyes piercing, "this dealer doesn't help just anyone. You'll need to prove your worth, show that you're seeking knowledge beyond mere curiosity."
Harry pocketed the quick-scribbled note. "Thanks. I'll be careful."
As he turned to leave, the man's voice stopped him. "One more thing, young wizard," he interjected, his tone serious. "In that part of our world, knowledge is power, and power is dangerous. Be sure you're ready for what you might uncover."
Harry nodded, his resolve firm. "I am"
With that, he left the shop, his mind racing with possibilities and the weight of the task ahead. The journey to uncover the secrets of his heritage and the boons that came with it was about to take an even darker, more mysterious turn.
Knockturn alley was his next destination.
The further Harry ventured into Knockturn Alley, the more the ambience shifted. The shops here were darker, their wares dangerous, and clientele more furtive. Nothing was left of the happy chatter of Diagon Alley, completely replaced by cloaked figures rushing through their way. He followed the directions given by the wizards from Flourish and Blotts meticulously, turning down narrow, dark alleyways and taking sharp turns until he reached an unmarked door. It was so well-concealed and plain that one might walk past it a hundred times over without ever noticing it.
Taking a deep breath, Harry knocked on the inconspicuous door. The door creaked open, revealing a narrow entrance that led to a small and dimly-lit room. Sitting behind a cluttered desk in the corner of the room, was an old wizard - his age made unrecognizable by the sheer amount of shawls and robes he wore. Their eyes, sharp and discerning, focused on Harry with an intensity that made him uncomfortable.
"I was told you could help me find … certain books," Harry began, trying to appear confident.
The old dealer leaned forward, peering at Harry. "Books, yes. But not the kind for light reading. You seem a bit young to seek the shadow of knowledge my collection pertains to," he said in a deep whisper.
Harry explained his need, carefully omitting any hint of his true identity. The dealer listened carefully, their expression unreadable. Then, without a word, the librarian stood and beckoned Harry to follow them.
They led Harry through a hidden door behind the desk, revealing a large, underground library. Filled with a thick scent of old pages, maybe even centuries-old parchments, Harry had never seen a library this extensive, even Hogwarts' fell short in comparison. It was a treasure trove of ancient scrolls, leather-bound tomes, and manuscripts that whispered the knowledge of an era long gone. He stepped into a well of knowledge that few knew existed.
If Hermione were here, it would be heaven for her. His bushy haired friend was a bookworm, and it would certainly be near-impossible to get her out of this library, until she consumed all the knowledge presented to her. A pang of sadness washed over Harry thinking about his dear friend. He wished to be able to see her, share memories, and hear her contagious, happy laughter. But he knew it would have to wait because Harry needed to protect them, and currently, they were safest not in contact with him. He wouldn't make them another target.
"You may find what you seek in here," the dealer said, tearing Harry out of his thoughts. "But remember, knowledge, especially of this kind, comes with a price."
Harry nodded, understanding the weight of the warning. He focused on the task ahead again, delving into the library that would change the course of his quest.
Harry moved methodically through the aisles of the gigantic library, his fingers grazing the spines of ancient tomes and scrolls, as he read their titles. Each book he opened seemed to creak with the weight of its secrets, revealing the hidden or forbidden knowledge for generations.
Hours passed as Harry looked over the texts on the arcane laws governing the ancient families of Britain, the intricacies of the Trace, used to detect magic performed by minors and the hidden protocols of the wizarding world. Most of the information revealed was unsettling, revealing a side of magic that was manipulative and leaned heavily into dark traditions. The unfairness in the wizarding society and the lengths to obscure it shocked Harry. Yet, he needed to understand his place and rights within the magical community.
As he delved deeper, Harry discovered a section on the history and responsibilities of magical heirs. It detailed how, in ancient times, young heirs were expected to uphold and defend their families' honor and position, often requiring magic outside of school, even before wizarding maturity. Because of this responsibility, the Trace had been removed or not applied to them. The law allowing it is still in effect, even though modern society has forgotten about the Trace's actions.
Harry's mind raced at the implications. If he could prove his status as the Potter heir, he could perhaps challenge the ministries' claim against him. But there was also a sense of danger he noticed. The knowledge he was uncovering would undoubtedly put him in a precarious place with powerful entities within the wizarding world.
Lost in thought, Harry almost didn't notice the old dealer re-entering the room. "You have found what you were seeking, I presume?" They asked, their voice breaking the silence.
"Yes, more than I expected," Harry replied, his voice heavy with the newfound knowledge. "What do I owe you?"
The dealer shook his head. "Nothing. knowledge you need should never be hidden from a keen mind," they explained to Harry in a raspy voice, the gaze penetrating. "Remember, young man, knowledge can be a weapon or a shield. How you use it will define your path. Be wary of those who seek to take it from you."
Their words swarmed Harry with warmth, "I understand. Thank you for all this."
As he prepared to leave the dealer handed him a small, unmarked parchment. "If you ever need more … unconventional knowledge, use this to contact me, Mister Potter."
Before Harry could ask them; how they knew his name, the old wizard vanished into the library, leaving a confused Harry Potter in the entrance room of his shop. He pocketed the parchment and made his way out of the room. The world outside seemed different now as if he had been granted a lens that revealed the unseen machinations of the wizarding world.
Emerging back into the abandoned Knockturn Alley, covered in darkness, the weight of the knowledge he had discovered in the shadowy library settled heavily on him. The ancient texts and scrolls he had pored over contained more than just ancient laws and traditions; they held truths about the wizarding worlds that few knew about and even fewer dared to speak of.
The realization that he, Harry Potter, was now one of these few was empowering and daunting. He understood the need for caution because every piece of information he learned was a double-edged sword, capable of protecting and endangering him. Now he understood the warning from the old wizard, the price was his innocent view of the world he was thrown into four years ago. He would never see it as he had before, the weight of the intrigue weighing on his conscience.
As he entered the populated Diagon Alley, his mind worked furiously. To prove his claim and rights as the Potter heir, he would need a powerful ally. Without one, even entering the ministry would be a risky move. He would need somebody who didn't support Voldemort, nor be close to Fudge. Somebody who was fair, in a position of power, and willing to listen to his case. He disregarded multiple options and started with Mister Weasley and ended with Dumbledore, his thoughts circled back to one name - Amelia Bones.
Madame Bones, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was known for her integrity and fairness. She was one of the few in the Ministry who seemed resistant to bribery and political machinations. But more importantly, Harry remembered Susan talking fondly about her in their joint herbology classes, praising the kindness and protectiveness her aunt showed. It was a big risk, but Harry didn't have other options and would need to rely on Madame Bone's fairness.
But how to approach her without drawing attention? Any direct contact with the Ministry was risky, especially now that he knew more about the powers that steered it. He needed a discreet way to reach her, a way that would not alert the wrong eyes or ears.
An idea began to form in Harry's mind. He remembered the discreet pubs and cafes that dotted the wizarding world, where people went for quiet meetings, away from privy eyes. He could arrange to meet her in one of these places, away from the Ministry's watchful gaze. It would certainly be a neutral ground, safe for such a conversation.
Determined, Harry made his way to the mail office, his steps were quick and purposeful. He would send a message to Susan, requesting Susan to forward it to her aunt. It would ask the woman to meet him in the Hog's Head, far away from the place he was residing in, but a familiar place. He had visited the grim bar on one of his Hogsmeade weekends and would feel safer knowing where they would meet. In his message, he would explain his need for confidentiality and the importance of their meeting.
As the evening descended upon Hogsmeade, Harry Potter, in his transfiguration disguise, made his way to the Hog's Head Inn. His new identity was already becoming a part of him, after all the time he had spent in Diagon Alley under it. The shock he felt seeing his new appearance in the mirror was replaced by a comforting familiarity. He finally walked in public without the gawking of the other witches and wizards, it was a feeling of freedom Harry had never felt before.
The Hog's Head, with its dimly lit interior and the faint smell of something strong and earthy, was sparsely populated. The patrons, each indulged in their own little world, paid no mind to Harry as he entered. His eyes quickly found Madame Bones, sitting alone at a table in the back, her posture erect and vigilant, searching the room with her eyes constantly.
Approaching the table, Harry felt a mixture of nervousness and insecurity. He didn't know how this would turn out, but it was the best chance he had if he wanted to lose his wanted status. He pulled out a chair and sat down across from her, trying to appear more confident than he was. She should at least think that he was in control.
"Madame Bones," he greeted, his voice slightly altered by his disguise, a feat that took days of training to achieve.
Madame Bone's sharp gaze studied him for a moment before she spoke. "Mister Potter, I presume? I must admit your disguise is rather impressive, actually more impressive than most of my trainees achieve. Still, you're recognizable to those who know how to look."
Harry's heart skipped a beat, realizing his efforts at disguise were less effective than he had hoped. "It is Lord Potter, Miss Bones. But yes it is me, I thought it best to … blend in," he answered with a chuckle, "and I don't think my usual appearance would do me any good currently."
"Understandable," she replied, though her tone held a note of caution. "But you failed in every other regard. Walking in here openly, even disguised, could have led you in a trap, if I wanted this to be one. You didn't observe the area before or even make sure to bring me out of balance," the experienced woman chastised Harry, in a no-nonsense tone. "You are not dealing with the usual adversaries here, there should be no place for error."
Harry flushed in embarrassment as the realization of his stupidity hit him. He hadn't even thought about additional steps to secure his safety, and didn't even fully consider the extent of danger he would be in this evening. "I … hadn't thought of that."
"Always assume you are watched," Madame Bones advised sternly. "Especially in the times we live in," she added, with a tinge of sadness and fury in her steely eyes. "Now, let's discuss why you're here. I noticed you calling yourself Lord Potter?"
Harry nodded, reassured by her directness. The woman in front of him was exactly what he had been told about her. It was almost like when his Head of House, Professor McGonagall, had called him to her office. But underneath the stern facades, both women had a protective personality. The similarities were quite unnerving.
As he spoke, Madame Bones listened intently, her expression one of keen interest. "This is significant, Mr. Potter," she acknowledged after Harry finished, "if Susan didn't promise me that you are not the type to lie about this stuff, I wouldn't believe the story you told me. However, presenting this to the Ministry will be a delicate matter. We must proceed with caution and strategy," she rebutted, although offering her support.
Harry felt a sense of relief, tempered by the realization of the issues ahead. "I understand. I just want to ensure that my rights are respected. I can't have the Ministry controlling my actions based on outdated laws."
Madame Bones nodded in agreement. "You have a strong case, but navigating the Ministry's bureaucracy will require careful planning. I'll help guide you through this process. I think going to the hearing that is scheduled for you would be our best bet."
"A hearing?" Harry questioned suspiciously, "I would rather not have to surrender myself to the Ministry."
The Head of Magical Law Enforcement eyed him apologetically. "I know, Mister Potter. But it is the best chance we have. A friend of mine is a lawyer specializing in the field. If you want to get out of this, you need to trust him and myself."
Harry jumped out of his seat. "This was a bad idea," he murmured, more to himself than the woman across from him. "I will go, let us just forget this meeting," he explained hurriedly to Madame Bones and turned on his heels.
Before he could even take a step, Harry felt a hand on his shoulder. Spinning around in an instant, Harry looked into the eyes of the Ministry woman, his wand drawn and pointed to her throat.
"Let me go," he growled, his eyes dancing like green vivid flames.
The air grew thick as if trying to suffocate, Madame Bones. The young man was radiating an amount of raw magic the ex-auror had never seen before. "Relax, Harry," she tried to calm the wizard in front of her through her fear. "This is going to attract a lot of attention."
She felt the magic ebb away slightly, but still felt it lingering around, proving its readiness. With the overwhelming amount gone, she was able to explore it more deeply, the nature of his magic. It was so much similar to Charlus Potter's magic, a man she had only met once before his murder in the first wizarding war. She felt the same strength that she had this time but mixed with something dark, something cold.
"I have never felt magic like this," Madame Bones conceded to Harry. "Your magic is really potent, but a conundrum at the same time. For itsit's warmth it's certainly chilly."
Harry shrugged and turned around, not wanting to use any more time at this place. He had wasted enough time. "When you are finished looking, I will take my leave now."
The older woman looked at him with the same sadness as before. "Harry, wait!" She urged him, but he didn't miss the pleading sound in her voice.
The young man turned around reluctantly, ignoring the despair he heard in her voice. It was an unexpected reaction from such a strong woman.
"My brother and his wife have been killed by Voldemort," she announced in a broken voice. "Susan wasn't even a year old when it happened and doesn't remember, but I am haunted by the memory of finding them forever." A quiet sob escaped the woman's throat as she continued, "They were used as an example of what happens if you defy him. Their bodies are used for their enjoyment. I want this monster dead, I want revenge for my family. You are the best hope I have."
Harry slumped back in his chair. "I am so sorry for your loss, Madame Bones." He understood her, the pain she had endured, and the need for closure. "You are right, we will have to work together. What do you have planned?"
A look of pure relief presented itself on the older woman's face. "I will have to make some talks, I will write to you. For now, it would be best to hide further," seeing his unhappy expression, she quickly added, "but that will change soon. Until then, take this book." Reaching into her robes, she pulled out an unorganized tome filled with handwritten notes.
"This is an author's manual, it will tell you the strategies my department uses and some useful spells," she explained to Harry, putting the book between them. "But be careful and don't use your wand yet, the trace still exists. Have a good night, Mr. Potter. Remember vigilance is key." With that warning spoken, the stern woman left the tavern, leaving Harry and the book at the table.
Moments later, Harry left the Hog's Head Inn under the cover of the night. He knew the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, but with Madame Bones' support, he felt better equipped to face them.