Dumbledore made his way briskly to the entrance of Gringotts the moment he arrived at his destination, ignoring the startled gasps and shouts around him.
Dumbledore swiftly entered the building and made his way to the nearest clerk.
'Why hello there Mr Hardfang, I was told that my presence would be appreciated for the newly inaugurated Lord Potter-Black?' Dumbledore enquired diplomatically.
The goblin stared at him through large horn-rimmed glasses. 'Come along Lord Dumbledore.' The goblin replied finally, hoping off his chair and taking off through the door behind him.
Dumbledore sighed and took off after him. Damn goblins. They look so small and innocent but nohoho it doesn't matter that i'm pushing 150 I have to go after these little blighters. Dumbledore grumbled to himself.
The goblin stopped outside of an office. 'Right in here lord Dumbledore, best of luck in your future endeavours.' That said the goblin swiftly took off again.
Now, let us see if this situation is still salvageable. Dumbledore told himself with a weary sigh as he opened the door to the office.
Inside were two individuals.
One goblin, inconsequential. Dumbledore thought to himself.
And there he was.
Lily and James's boy.
Harry.
Except he didn't look like the Harry Dumbledore remembered visiting in Godric's hollow, the bright and happy carefree child zooming around on the miniature broom Sirius Black had gotten him for christmas.
No.
This child he saw sitting before him was cold, calculating. Dumbledore tried to enter his mind utilising his legilimency.
All he saw was a blank screen.
He looked back in shock at the boy, who smiled cruelly at him, before returning his face to the stony neutral expression it had held previously.
'Lord Dumbledore.' The goblin on the other side of the desk greeted him. 'Please, take a seat, me and my client have much to discuss with you.' He gestured to the chair beside Harry.
Dumbledore quickly took a seat. 'My dear boy,' He began. 'It's been so long since I've seen you.' He smiled serenely down at Harry through half-moon spectacles. 'I have to say, I did not expect someone as young as you to undertake such responsibility at such a young age, why, what would the Dursleys think?' he subtly enquired. Now to see how he responds to the bait.
'I suppose you would worry about the Dursleys, but in that case I am glad to inform you that they fully agreed to my emancipation from them.' Harry responded, never breaking eye contact with the elderly headmaster.
Dumbledore frowned. 'Emancipation? I am sorry Harry but I am afraid I do not understand, I am not well versed in house law.' He smiled serenely down at Harry.
Harry's jaw tensed before answering. 'It means, esteemed headmaster, that I, as a head of an ancient and noble house, am by law and magic fully emancipated, a full adult, and do not require a guardian, magical or otherwise, as I am protected by the statute of secrecy.' Harry smiled. 'I will be taking up residence in the only real estate that still belongs to the Black family after the war, as the ministry has requisitioned the ancestral Potter home in Godric's Hollow. All staff left still serving either houses have been notified of the fusion of both houses, and I will be making the traditional visit to the portrait of the previous head of house, in this case Arcturus Black, before my hearing before the Wizengamot in the near future.'
Dumbledore was gobsmacked. This, this child was speaking to him as if he was nothing but an inconvenience!
Before Dumbledore could continue, however, Harry stood up. 'Since it is only my duty to inform you that you have been discharged of your lackluster,' Harry put emphasis on the word, 'Job as my guardian, I will be taking my leave now, by your will, Ripmaul.' Harry deferred to the elderly goblin.
'By all means,' The goblin confirmed, gesturing to the door, 'We have discussed all that is necessary, I bid you good day, Lord Potter-Black.' That said, Harry made his way out the door.
Dumbledore blinked, and turned angrily to Ripmaul, who leaned back while cooly appraising the angry wizard in front of him.
'What is this?' Dumbledore hissed violently, his hands flexing feverishly. 'You, You allow a mere ten year old to assume headship of two of the most wealthy and influential houses in wizarding Britain?'
The goblin merely sneered at him. 'You are a fool, Dumbledore, do you not realise that house Black would have fallen under Malfoy influence if it weren't for Lord Potter-Black's timely apparition?'
Dumbledore paused. Then sighed. The goblin was indeed right. It had been a long day, perhaps Albus simply need to return to his office in Hogwarts and take a well deserved nap.
'I bid you good day, Ripmaul.' Albus said, and without waiting for an answer, promptly disapparated back to Hogwarts.
XOXO
Harry heaved a deep sigh as he sat at Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlor, enjoying a nice pineapple sundae, recalling the conversation had with Ripmaul on the state of his newly formed house as well as his first meeting with Albus Dumbledore, the supposedly 'great' saviour of wizarding Britain.
Harry checked himself. Did he really want to start a feud with Dumbledore? Despite his shortcomings, the man had been a friend of his parents, and Harry decided he wasn't going to write him off for what may well have been a well intended blunder.
After Harry finished and said goodbye to the amicable Florean Fortescue, Harry made his way to Twilfit and Tattings, getting many robes for the different occasions he would find himself, before calling his new houself, Kreacher, and let him bring his clothes to his new master bedroom in Black manor, somewhere south of the outskirts of London.
He also visited an apothecary for new potions ingredients, as well as flourish and Blotts, before seeing a shop that caught his eye. Eylop's Owl Emporium.
I could use an owl. Harry thought to himself. It wouldn't be proper for a head of house to not have his own owl. Harry decided, making his way into the shop.
Harry perused the shop, taking stock of the many owls, and wandering aimlessly around the store, before a snowy owl caught his eye. Harry walked up to her.
'Hey girl,' Harry began, 'How would you like to come home with me?' Harry held out one of his fingers, and the snowy owl nibbled it affectionately. Harry smiled. 'Okay, it's decided then.'
Harry picked up the cage with the owl inside, and made his way to the counter, where he promptly bought said owl for the price of fifty galleons.
As Harry made his way out of the shop, he looked down at the cage containing his owl. 'Now, what to call you..'. Harry thought, remembering a witch he had read about in his copy of A History of Notable Witches in Hogwarts. 'How do you like the sound of… Hedwig, yeah, Hedwig.' Harry said as he tested out the name while gauging the reaction of the owl. The newly christened Hedwig barked excitedly and siddled up and down its perch in its cage.
Harry laughed. 'Well in that case Hedwig, I need to introduce you to the Potter-Black owlery in our manor.' He explained conversationally before coming to a stop in the middle of the road.
'Kreacher!' He called out, before hearing the now familiar pop of houelf apparition as his wizened old houself formerly belonging to the Black family appeared in front of him.
'Master called me?' Kreacher asked lethargically, barely completing the mandatory bow.
'Yes, Kreacher, I need you to take my stuff and this owl here I purchased and install them correctly in my new lodgings.' Harry responded smartly. 'I'll be staying here to peruse some more shops before returning home to Black manor for the night.' Harry informed Kreacher while handing him over all the things he had bought up until this point.
Kreacher bowed and took all of the things. 'Master commands.' And promptly disapparated with a loud 'POP!'.
Harry sighed and took stock of his surroundings. Now. What to do…
XOXO
Harry visited many of the more mundane shops in Diagon Alley, including a very interesting quidditch shop. Harry didn't know much about the sport, but he gazed in wonder at the Nimbus 2000 on display at the store, before spotting what seemed to be a much darker street that split off from Diagon Alley not five hundred metres away.
Harry furrowed his brow. A History of Wizarding Britain hadn't mentioned anything about another street apart from Diagon Alley.
Harry made his way over, expertly dodging the throngs of people around him.
As Harry walked into the street, he noticed a placard on one of the walls lining the street, with the words Knockturn Alley barely legible through all the grime that had accumulated on the sign over years of neglect. There was a stale stench in the air, as if somebody forgot to open the window a couple of years ago and the many unsavoury smells had all lingered.
Harry wrinkled his nose. This better be worth it.
Harry eventually chanced upon a fairly innocent looking shop, and a quick glance to the sign outside confirmed to Harry that this was Borgin and Burkes. I overheard two lads talking about the place before. It's meant to serve a more unsavoury clientele. I don't see the fuss…
Harry opened the door and took a step inside.
It felt like how Knockurn Alley had previously, but more. Harry couldn't exactly place what it was, but the place buzzed with magiks unknown to him, and the feeling got adrenaline rushing through Harry's veins.
I can practically see the knowledge brimming from this place, just waiting to be tapped into. Harry thought to himself in wonderment.
'Well?' a gruff voice called from the back of the shop. Harry turned around quickly to see a small hunchbacked man looking at him expectantly from behind a desk. 'Are you going to look for anything or are you going to keep standing there like an idiot with your mouth open?'
Harry quickly closed his mouth abashedly. 'I am very capable of deciding whether or not I wish to peruse the items in your shop for myself thank you very much.' Harry snappily replied. 'Now, are you willing to assist me in finding the items I wish to purchase or will I have to do so unattended?'
The shopkeeper look flabbergasted at being spoken to in such a manner, although he quickly recovered from his shop and quickly motioned for Harry to follow him.
'So Mr…' The shopkeeper began, his eyes looking at Harry questioningly.
'Lord.' Harry replied icily. 'Lord Potter-Black, I hope you understand that a visit by someone of my social stature is information of the most confidential.'
The shopkeeper once again gaped at Harry before, this time taking a significantly longer portion of time to recover from his shock before addressing Harry again. 'Right, well Lord Potter-Black if you would be willing to enlighten me in what you would wish to peruse I would be most honoured to indicate you to the correct section of the shop.' The shopkeeper said diplomatically.
No doubt attempting to salvage whatever goodwill he can from me. Harry thought, his distaste for the man and the shop rising with every passing second. I hope I can find what I am looking for here quickly, this place smells like grandma. Harry wrinkled his nose.
'I'm looking for any section with books? Preferably on spells.' Harry enquired.
The shopkeeper nodded his head. 'Aye that is a standard request around here.' He motioned to a door at the end of a hall behind the desk. 'Just through the door, if you have any questions don't hesitate to ask.' The shopkeeper promptly bustled away.
What an odd sort of fellow. Harry shook his head. I'm getting a headache, this better be good now.
It was definitely worth it.
Most of the books there, were admittedly, terrible. Who would ever need a copy of 'a hundred ways to cure boils'? Harry snorted. I need to sleep.
However, there was one book that stood out to Harry, and voices in his head called for him to pick it up.
Harry tentatively walked towards it, and after carefully picking it up from it's place discarded on a table, he wiped the dust off, to read the title.
Harry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
The title was just scribbles. Random scribbñes that didn't seem to have any rhyme or reason.
Then again, I am a wizard, in a secret magical world. Wait.
Harry squinted as he saw the ink slowly swim across the page. He watched in wonder as it slowly formed coherent words.
Salazar Slytherin's Big Book of Parseltongue Magic.
This has to be a joke, right? Harry asked himself incredulously as he stared at the title with wide eyes. There's no way Salazar Slytherin named a book on parseltongue magic 'The Big Book of Parseltongue Magic'. Harry let out a nervous laugh. Who knows, maybe he had a good sense of humour.
Harry was cautious of opening a book that was at best one of the most valuable in the known world, or in the worst case a trap which would curse him horribly and perhaps even kill him. But after running some of the best curse-revealing charms Harry knew, Harry was assured enough to tentatively open the first page of the book.
The art of parseltongue magic is a creation of myself, as is the language. It affords you all of the knowledge and power associated with the noble name of Slytherin. If you are reading this, it means that you too, are capable of learning this power, as in your veins flows the mighty Slytherin bloodline, which allows you the parseltongue ability…
Harry read through a couple more pages before realising that it was unusually dark. A quick tempus showed him that it was in fact ten thirty in the evening.
'Shit!' Harry cursed before quickly getting up, closing the book and tucking it in under his arm.
Harry quickly opened the door and ran down the hall, slamming the big book down on the shopkeeper's desk, jolting said man out of his impromptu nap.
'How much for the book?' Harry asked breathlessly.
The shopkeeper's eyes narrowed. Harry got the distinct feeling the man was trying to calculate how much gold he could get Harry to part from. 'Well Lord Potter-Black, I would be willing to part with this book of… squiggly lines for the tidy sum of 380 Galleons.' He smiled brilliantly at Harry, displaying crooked discoloured teeth.
'Done.' Harry said without hesitation. The shopkeeper's face fell when he realised he could have charged more. The information this book contained was damn near priceless.
This is probably the worst deal this man will ever make. Harry thought amusedly.
Harry opened an enchanted pouch filled with gold which he had gotten from Gringotts to store the gold he withdrew from his newly created family vault, before forking over the appropriate amount of money, before quickly picking up the book and running out of the store.
Harry's heart pumped with excitement as Harry made his way down the dark alley as quickly as his legs would permit, and soon he found himself entering the Leaky Cauldron, where he was greeted by Tom the barkeep.
'Hello there lad, you had a good day?' Tom enquired good naturedly.
'You wouldn't believe it.' Harry replied with a bright smile. 'Anyways, I have found more… permanent accommodation, so I will not be requiring a room for tonight.'
'That's alright.' Tom replied, smiling despite himself at the infectious happiness the kid was displaying. 'Five galleons a night, you know the gig.'
Harry nodded animatedly and quickly took out the amount from his money pouch before bidding Tom goodnight and calling Kreacher to take him to his new home.
XOXO
Harry's eyes fluttered open, and Harry rubbed his eyes before sitting up in his new bed and taking in his surroundings.
The ceiling was ornate, with golden carvings of wizards battling, with gemstones as the spells, and massive dragons flying in the background.
The rest of the room was equally ornate and bedecked with jewels, as was befitting of a lord of the house of Black.
It´s Potter-Black now. Harry looked around. I wonder what Arcturus Black is going to think of me. Harry recalled the conversation he had had with Kreacher, where he had mentioned wanting to meet with the previous head of house, as had been tradition in wizarding families for generations
Harry shook his head. Three days ago I didn't even get three square meals a day, and now I'm one of the more important political figures in wizarding society.
Harry didn't feel like an important political figure in wizarding society.
I'm sure it'll hit me when I have to claim my seat on the Wizengamot. Harry chuckled to himself. Boy am I looking forward to that.
Harry made his way downstairs, and after ending up on the wrong floor twice, finally made his way to the dining room.
The room was decorated in the similarly ornate fashion the rest of the house boasted, with the exception of a midnight black table that dominated most of the room.
Harry took a seat at the head of the table, while Kreacher started bringing in food. Harry dug in, but around halfway through enjoying his meal, a owl swooped in out of nowhere and deposited a letter beside his breakfast.
Harry picked up and opened the letter quickly, his curiosity getting the better of him as he carelessly ripped corner off the parchment as he unfurled it.
Esteemed Lord Potter-Black,
I write on behalf of my scion, Heir Longbottom, and congratulate you on your ascendance to head of house.
As an ally of house Potter-Black, nèe Potter, I invite you to Longbottom Manor to discuss the future of our alliance, as I am sure many will be clamouring to do as well, tomorrow evening for supper.
Harry made a note of the subtle hint towards more invitations such as this.
If you accept, simply return the owl with a reply of your own.
Regards,
Augusta Longbottom,
Regent of House Longbottom.
Harry processed the information, before calling out for Kreacher.
'Master called for me?' Kreacher asked in his nonplussed voice while performing his signature meagre bow.
'I require ink, a quill and parchment, quickly.' Harry ordered. He had grown tired of the houself's mannerisms very quickly and had resorted to using a stern tone with him to make sure that the elf wouldn't skive off work too much.
I'm going to need another houself to actually maintain my properties, Harry thought to himself wryly. Where do you even get houselves? Is there some sort of shop like Eylop's Owl Emporium? Harry snorted at the thought of Kreacher sitting in a small cage waiting to be auctioned off.
The houself bowed and disappeared before returning a short while later with the aforementioned items.
Harry smoothed out a piece of parchment, before beginning to write down his response, remembering the etiquette noble families were to address each other with.
By the time Harry had finished, rolled up and sent the owl away back to Longbottom Manor, many more owls had entered the hall and dropped letters by his side.
Harry sighed as he looked at them before opening and going through them, although none turned out to be as worthwhile as the correspondence with the Longbottom matriarch.
XOXO
Harry took a deep breath as he adjusted his formal robes.
Harry had been fidgeting with his wizarding formal robes for the better part of 5 minutes, obsessing and reciting all of the pureblood formalities he was likely to encounter in his visit to Longbottom Manor momentarily.
And Harry was freaking out.
It hadn't seemed scary when confirming the meeting between himself, the Longbottom matriarch and heir, but as the time to arrive slowly crept closer.
In the months between having moved into Black Manor, a large house and grounds nestled in the Wicklow mountains, a couple of kilometers south of Dublin.
Since the house was so far removed from society around it, Harry had taken to operating the floo network like a moth to the flame.
However Harry felt that this wasn't befitting of a noble lord, so he dedicated an entire day to learning how to apparate.
Harry would never forget watching in mild curiosity as his left forearm detached from his body and stayed stationary about 50 feet away on the vast fields of the Black estate surrounding the manor.
Harry had eventually gotten the hang of it though, after much, much more time spent on it than Harry would ever be comfortable confessing out of his own volition.
Apart from this particularly difficult episode in Harry's time spent at his new manor, Harry had spent the majority of his days practising all aspects of magic with the many rooms and tools in the venerated mansion. And of course, Salazar's Big Book of Parseltongue Magic.
Harry shook his head as he chuckled, once again thinking of the strange title to the admittedly impressive book. Harry's understanding and level of wand magic had progressed with leaps and bounds since his discovery of the ancient tome.
It's honestly incredible I could even do magic beforehand, especially with all the mastery books. Harry thought. It really is just intention and arithmancy.
Snapping out of his reverie, Harry cast a quick tempus.
The ghostly fog that emerged from his wand made him suck in his breath into a hiss. Twelve fifty nine.
Crap! Harry quickly made his way to the floo, took a pinch of powder from the bag beside the fireplace. He threw the powder into the fireplace, and called out 'Longbottom Manor!' Before stepping into the flames.
Harry stumbled into what he assumed was the foyer of Longbottom Manor.
Not as nice as mine. Harry observed in savage satisfaction.
He heard footsteps coming from around the corner of the entrance.
Harry quickly checked his clothes and hair, which to his dismay was still and unruly as ever.
Welp, time to YOLO it. Harry thought. Fortune favours the bold, and all that jazz. Harry had a distinct feeling that this wasn't the case, but he was suffering from acute nerves at that moment, and wasn't in the mood to correct himself.
The footsteps, a sharp CLACK! Which denoted heels, Harry noted, became ever louder as the owner of said shoes rounded the corner.
Augusta Longbottom was an impressive woman, although just taller than Harry, her giant vulture bonnet gave the illusion of a stature much larger than the reality.
'Welcome to Longbottom Manor, Lord Potter-Black, I appreciate you responding to my owl as quickly as you did.' Augusta said tersely. Harry got the impression that the woman was a very no-nonsense type of person, and adjusted accordingly.
'I thank you for you hospitality, Lady Longbottom.' Harry responded with a straight face, trying not to stare at the vulture bonnet Lady Longbottom was wearing, which was wobbling precariously as she spoke to him.
Lady Longbottom made a face. 'Oh none of those fake formalities here, this isn't the Malfoys house for crying out loud.' She proclaimed as she made signs for him to follow here as she set off at a pace back into the manor.
Eventually they made their way to what Harry assumed was a living room, where there was a conglomeration of ornate sofas and chairs surrounding an equally ornate coffee table.
On one of these sofas was partially occupied by a nervous looking, slightly pudgy boy, with brown hair and brown eyes, whose eyes briefly met Harry's as he was led by the Longbottom matriarch into the room, and motioned for him to sit in a chair.
Harry took his seat, which faced the boy.
Isn't his name Neville? Harry recalled from his mother's letters he had read. Yeah, Neville, and his parents are called, what, Frank? What was the wife's name again? Harry frowned as he attempted to recall Frank Longbottom's wife's name.
He was interrupted from his train of thought by Augusta Longbottom once again speaking up as she too took her seat on another sofa surrounding the large ornate coffee table.
'Now that we are all seated, let us get started.' The Longbottom matriarch began. 'Before that though, Lord Potter-Black, This is my grandson Neville.'
Neville looked up shyly from the seam of his robe he had been fidgeting with and let out a small 'Hi' before returning his gaze to his sleeve.
Augusta Longbottom sniffed as she stared at her son with distaste.
'I have two orders of business for us to discuss today.' She continued. 'Firstly, the state of alliance between our two houses.'
Harry nodded as he listened. He had done some research in the venerated Black library prior to this meeting at the mention of alliance in the letter he had received from the Longbottoms. It constituted aid in military and financial terms, and was a sign of not only prosperity, but closeness between both respective houses in said alliance.
'I agree.' Harry began formally. 'If you are not opposed, I see no reason to end the alliance. My parents and your son were good friends from what I understand, and there are preciously few I can say I truly trust.'
Augusta surprised Harry with a smile. 'I appreciate your trust in my son, it is truly sad what happened to my him and Alice.' The Longbottom matriarch took a handkerchief out of a small bag Harry hadn't noticed she'd been holding, and gently wiped away a tear,
Harry nodded in agreement sombrely. Harry had caught up on many of the effects since Voldemort's untimely visit into his home, and one of the most prominent attacks to have taken place, to Harry's horror, was Alice and Frank Longbottom being attacked and held under the cruciatus curse in a desperate attack by the Lestranges, one of whom had been a former Black, Harry reminded himself as he clenched his fist, which had resulted in the capture of the three, but Frank and Alice had ended up not completely alright mentally, and were in the permanent spell damage ward in St. Mungo's as far as Harry knew.
'I am so sorry.' Harry said despondently.
'There's nothing you could have done.' A small voice said.
Harry looked up. He had completely forgotten that the boy was there. He gave Harry a small smile.
'Oh well.' Augusta Longbottom said with a loud clap, making both Harry and Neville jump in their seats.
'Thus we come to the second order of business.' The imposing woman said, with false cheer in her voice.
'I was wondering whether you would wish to join my Neville in his tutoring classes.' She said, this time Harry noticed for the first time since having arrived that Augusta did not sound as confident as she had before.
'Uhm.' Harry began eloquently.
Harry berated himself for saying something so stupid.
Wait a minute. Harry checked himself.
Did he want to join Neville for tutoring?
There was no doubt that it would be useful, especially as Harry had very limited hands-on experience with trueblood etiquette and customs in regular day to day life.
Harry then remembered that it had, in fact, been a question he was expected to answer, and as he slowly came out of his reverie he noticed both Augusta and Neville Longbottom staring at him expectantly.
'R-Right sorry to keep you waiting, I would love to, I have painfully limited knowledge with pureblood society and magic in general.' Harry said with a small stutter at the start, cursing himself. I hope I didn't keep them waiting too long, don't need them thinking I'm any more odd than I must already seem.
The Longbottom matriarch clapped her hands with a pleased smile on her face. 'Good, they take place every day apart from Sunday, from one in the afternoon to six in the evening.'
Harry nodded his accordance, and slowly stood up.
'If that is all, then I will take my leave, and I suppose see you tomorrow?' Harry said weakly as he ended on a question, berating himself for seeming so uncertain.
'I suppose so.' Augusta beamed at him, before quickly turning on Neville, her countenance quickly becoming stern as she ordered, 'Neville! Say goodbye to Lord Potter-Black!'
Neville jumped out of his chair, before coming over to Harry and shaking his hand and whispering, 'Cheers Harry, I'll see you tomorrow mate.'
Harry blinked at the boy. He hadn't expected him to be so informal, not that it bothered him. In fact, as Harry realised, he would rather like a friend, especially before entering what seemed to be the social deathtrap that was hogwarts.
Harry smiled. 'Looking forward to it.'
Harry took a step back and apparated to Black manor, leaving a very bewildered Augusta and a shocked Neville in his wake.
AN:
Sooooooo. God. This was something.
This is the last pre Hogwarts chapter. (Thank god).
I have to say, parts of this were fun to write, like the conversation between Harry and Dumbledore, or Harry finally leaving the Dursleys, but for the most part, these chapters are just setting up the main plot of this fic, Harry's years at Hogwarts. I really did not expect to have to spend another chapter on this, but things got out of hand with the last chapter and in the end I had to split things into one more chapter.
I already have a lot planned for the first four years at Hogwarts, and although I have some plans to stick to canon, I have some original ideas to change the formative years, before the fic really kicks off with the fourth year, the quidditch world cup and the triwizard tournament and the war with old Voldy.
Upload schedule stays the same, might add an extra chapter per week if I am feeling particularly inspired that week, or have an especially strong case of no life.
Now, to respond to review by Smutley Do-Wrong (yes that's right I read reviews):
Harry is a genius. There really isn't much more to say on the matter. I'd say if I had nothing to do for most of my day every day, except learn magic. I would spend as much time as physically possible practicing that.
As for how he could get good so quickly, it's sorta a double edged sword. Harry has knowledge now, but for the most part not the physical power yet to put most of it into action. So even though he has loads of knowledge and even parseltongue magic, he won't be able to beat anybody over maybe third year. He just simply isn't that magically powerful yet.
Harry is also prodigious with magic. You'll see more of this next chapter. Many complex theories and ideas that Harry took for granted when he studied with his mother's books that he'll find out are not commonplace for an eleven year old.
As for what will Harry do instead? The answer is: Read the next chapter when it comes out.
I can't be giving away half the story before even writing it up. (Lord knows I've had it planned for weeks).
But yeah, that's basically it. Hope to see all of you next chapter.
Murph, out.