Destiny

"Why can't yeh just take me there? Yer all goblins aren't yeh?"

"It is against our policies, half-man. I cannot take you to a vault that I have not been given permission to access."

Hagrid cursed under his breath, plonking himself back into the cart. He took a deep breath as Harry and Griphook joined him, bracing himself for the unpleasant journey ahead. Sure enough, when they had returned to the marble hall, a significantly paler Hagrid fished a plastic bag from inside of his coat and proceeded to throw up inside of it.

"You go buy yer things," Hagrid managed to say, the rosiness slowly returning to his face. "Just meet me at the Leaky Cauldron once you're done. Here, take this."

He handed Harry a letter, identical to the one he had scrunched into a ball in his cupboard. "Don't go running off anywhere," he warned, turning to go talk to one of the goblins behind the counters.

Harry stood there, a letter in one hand and a pouch full of money in the other. A bright smile forged on his face as he made his way out of the bank.

Every magical person Harry could see seemed so full of life, especially in their colourful robes. In fact, their outfits were so outlandish, Harry thought he wanted some for himself. He looked around for the nearest clothes shop, eventually stumbling upon Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. The exterior was deep purple, and judging from what he could see through the windows, the place was rather busy.

"Hogwarts?" a woman hooted as soon as Harry entered.

"Yes," he smiled. "I'd like some everyday clothing as well."

A slender woman appeared from behind a pile of clothes, not even looking at Harry whilst assessing his size with a magical tape measure. It wasn't long before she allowed him to skim through the aisles to pick something out.

Harry waited at the queue with an array of colours in his hands.

"Good choice," Madame Malkin commented as she picked out a sleek set of black and emerald dress robes. "They match your eyes. However, those aren't exactly in fashion." She waddled her fingers at his broken spectacles. "I would recommend going to Olivia's after this - she'll sort those out."

She introduced Harry's Hogwarts robes to the pile. "Three sets of plain black robes, one black pointed hat, one pair of dragon hide gloves, and one black winter cloak with silver fastenings," she said, popping them all in an extended bag. "That'll be 50 galleons and 21 sickles," she said.

Harry took a handful of coins from his pouch, staring at them confusedly. "The galleons are the gold ones, the sickles are the silvers," Madame Malkin pointed out. He could hear the people waiting in the queue begin to mutter impatiently as he picked the coins out one by one.

Why can't they just have notes?

He walked off with the bag in his hand, slightly embarrassed.

Nevertheless, he took the woman's advice and headed over to Olivia's Opticians and Cosmetics, a modern-looking shop with a muggle feel to it. As soon as he entered the place, he heard a loud gasp that Aunt Petunia would have been proud of, and was soon attacked by a stout, angry-looking woman.

"Hey," Harry yelled in protest as she practically tore the glasses from his face.

"What in Merlin's name are these?" Olivia asked, examining Harry's sellotaped spectacles curiously, as if they were infected.

"They're my glasses," Harry replied.

"Don't be silly - I can see that, but this strange tape… Did you break them?" she asked, as if it were the most scandalous thing.

"It was my cousin actually. He stepped on them," Harry half-lied. Dudley had indeed stepped on them, but Harry had been on the floor and the glasses had still been on his face.

"Well, these muggle pairs are always flimsy. It's a good thing you came to me. Now then, let me see those eyes…"

She walked up to him, close enough so that their faces were almost touching. Her expression softened. "I've seen those eyes before."

"You have?" Harry asked oddly.

"Lily Evans," she practically whispered.

"My mother." Harry felt an ache in his chest.

"Yes, she was a favourite of mine; her eyes, the most luscious green - and now I find you have the exact same pair, Mr Potter."

"Hagrid said that as well… But he also said I look more like my father. Did you know him as well, by any chance?" Harry asked, desperate to hear more about his parents.

Olivia shook her head and laughed. "That boy, yes I knew him - he looked horrified every time his mother dragged him in here. Never wanted his eyes checked, apparently he liked the way the glasses fitted his face. How ridiculous! And that hair! Gosh, there was nothing I could do about it. I used every gel, cream and spell I had at my disposal, but no, that hair just would not stay down! And it looks like you've inherited that trait as well!"

Olivia looked at the top of his head angrily, but Harry couldn't help but smile warmly at her. It was nice hearing about his parents. Her expression softened once more when she saw his face.

"I'll get you some contacts," she said. "It's a crime to cover up eyes as striking as those."

Harry nodded. The woman disappeared behind a shelf for a bit, returning with a white box. She opened it, handing a smaller, plastic box to Harry. Inside were a pair of clear contacts.

Harry walked over to the nearest mirror and put them in, amazed by the sudden impact. He could see better than he ever could in his life. Everything was crisp and clear. It was like having a superpower.

"That's a lot better," Harry told Olivia, beaming at her.

Harry gratefully stepped back into the alley, feeling much more confident without the sellotape on his face.

His next stop was Flourish and Blotts, a large, dusty bookshop. He had intended to buy his required books and leave quickly, but instead found himself drawn to the vast amount of magical knowledge he was surrounded by. There were books about magical history, advanced spells, potions, duelling, creatures that Harry had never even heard of… It was all very interesting. His plan had been to only buy the eight books he needed, but Harry ended up leaving the shop with almost a hundred.

Might have overdone it slightly.

The Apothecary was Harry's penultimate stop, where he was able to purchase everything he still needed, save for his wand. It wasn't his favourite stop, as many of the things in there weren't very appealing to see or smell. Harry stocked up on all the ingredients he would need for his classes, as well as buying a pewter cauldron, a trunk to put his things in and a set of brass scales.

Finally, Harry approached Ollivander's, seemingly the most popular wand shop around. His meeting with Ollivander was a strange one, as the man kept addressing Harry like an old friend. It didn't help that Harry was stuck trying almost every wand at the old man's disposal, destroying a part of the shop each time. Finally, they found the right match, a match that Ollivander thought to be 'curious'. Apparently, the wand was very similar to the one that had given him his scar. Unfortunately, Harry did not know who the person in question was, but Ollivander seemed strangely scared of him.

As Harry made his way to the Leaky Cauldron, he wondered how much had truly been hidden from him. Today, he'd learnt more about his parents from strangers than he had his own aunt and uncle. Harry was sure there was a lot more to be known; about his parents, about himself… It was as if he was just finding his identity.

Thankfully, Harry didn't have to use magic on the brick wall to make it open back up. Spotting Hagrid was easy enough, so he kept his head down as he approached him, not wanting to be swarmed like he had been earlier on.

"There yeh are," Hagrid said. "I was beginning to get worried."

"Sorry, Ollivander was having a bit of trouble finding me a wand. What's that?" Harry asked, nodding at the cage on the table. Inside the cage was a snowy owl, looking strangely at Harry.

"Her name's Hedwig. I was stocking up on supplies at the pet store, an' an old friend of mine who works there mentioned her. Said he's had trouble finding her an owner. I said I'd take her off his hands - might know someone who'd be interested."

"Who would that be?"

"You, of course. She'll be dead useful."

"Me?" Harry was truly surprised.

"Consider it an early birthday present," Hagrid replied, smiling warmly.

"Thank you," Harry said, looking at the bird closer. She relaxed under his gaze, showing a sign of approval at her new owner. Harry already liked her.

Lunch began relatively normally. They had both ordered fish and chips, with Hagrid's portion being significantly larger than Harry's. Hagrid talked about Hogwarts being hundreds of years old and how the creatures in the Forbidden Forest weren't really as bad as everyone believed them to be. Harry listened patiently, though there was something on his mind.

"Hagrid," he said. "Can you tell me about the war now?"

Hagrid looked at him darkly, then scanned the room carefully.

"Well, someone's got to tell yeh at some point, I guess. It's not something you should talk about often though. Dark times, they were Harry. We'd all do our best to forget it."

"If you find it difficult to talk about Hagrid, then you don't hav-"

"Rubbish. You've got to know, you ended the bloody thing after all."

Harry nodded. This was important.

"Well, not too long ago there was a war. A terrible war. Many lost their lives in the battle against the dark wizards. Death Eaters, they were called, an' they were a nasty lot. They believed in the purity of magical blood, that muggles were lesser. But none of it would have happened if their leader hadn't been so strong."

"Who was he?" Harry asked.

"We don't say his name, we call him You-Know-Who. He was ruthless, an' was responsible for the deaths of many people. Good friends, like yer parents." Hagrid grimaced a little, shaking his head.

"So he was the one who…" Harry trailed off. This was harder than he thought it'd be.

Hagrid nodded gravely. "It was the night it all ended. You-Know-Who came after yer parents, an' knowing them they would have given him a good fight. Nobody was a match for him though, apart from Dumbledore of course."

"But he didn't kill me."

"No. An' that's why yer so famous. He tried, but for some reason, he couldn't do it. Something about yeh stopped him, an' the only mark he made on yeh is that scar on yer head."

"What's his name?" Harry asked, twitching slightly.

Hagrid looked at him, fear in his eyes.

"Hagrid, I have to know. He killed my parents," Harry insisted.

Hagrid nodded somewhat sourly, and leaned in close. "Lord Voldemort," he muttered, backing off quickly as if someone were going to attack out of nowhere.

"And where is he now?" Harry asked, fists clenched tightly. "Where is Lord Voldemort?"

"Don't say the name," Hagrid warned, grimacing. "That night, any sign of him vanished. People think he died, others think he's still out there, hiding, waiting."

"So what do you think?" Harry asked.

"I reckon he's still out there. Dumbledore thinks so too, so we've got to be prepared. We've had ten years of peace, but we can't get comfortable. Too many lives were lost last time…"

They journeyed back to Little Whinging a little glumly. Hagrid attempted to lighten the mood by explaining how calm and playful dragons actually were, something which Harry doubted.

Privet Drive was as quiet as ever as they approached Harry's residence. Hagrid stopped at the front door, reaching into his coat.

"Here, yeh'll need this," he said, handing Harry a ticket. "For the Hogwarts Express."

He then knocked on the door, the noise booming through the neighbourhood. Vernon opened the door hurriedly. "Will you keep it down," he hissed.

"I'll be leaving Harry now," Hagrid announced loudly, apparently not noticing Vernon's request. "Yeh'll treat him well, an' if I hear otherwise, well let's just say yeh won't want to know."

Vernon noticeably gulped. Hagrid turned to Harry, his merry smile returning. "Yeh'll come visit me when yeh're at Hogwarts, won't yeh?" he said.

"Of course," Harry said, smiling back. The giant had been really kind.

Hagrid gave Harry a pat on the shoulder, gentle enough to not send him flying this time, before walking off. Harry and Vernon both watched him as he disappeared around the bend, and when Vernon believed the coast to be clear, he ordered Harry to get in.

Vernon grabbed Harry by the shoulders, shoving him into the living room. Petunia was waiting in there, looking as if someone had died, whereas Dudley was sitting at the TV, shouting at some monsters on the screen.

"I will not take orders from that fat oaf!" Vernon barked. Harry thought it was rich for his uncle to call anyone a fat oaf.

"He stands at my front door and threatens me! How dare he? And you! You've befriended that beast!"

Harry just stared at his uncle, deciding he couldn't be asked to put up with anymore of his tantrum. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wand and pointing it at his uncle. This caused Petunia to scream piercingly.

"What's that?" Vernon asked, worried at his wife's frightened reaction.

"It's a- it's a wand," she stammered. "He can use it to do m-m-magic." She gasped, putting her hand to her mouth as if she had just uttered a dirty swear word.

"She's right," Harry said. "So you would do best to not talk about my friend like that anymore."

"Put that thing down," Vernon said, the vein on his temple throbbing dangerously.

"I will, but I have a few requests first."

Vernon looked outraged, but still nodded his agreement.

"I want three meals, proper meals every day. And I want some new clothes that will actually fit me."

Vernon nodded. "Now put that thing dow-"

"And I want Dudley's second room."

Dudley looked away from his game at this, shocked that Harry would dare ask such a thing.

"No!" he bellowed, making his way over to Harry with his arms outstretched as if he were going to hurt him. Harry just pointed his wand at Dudley instead, making Petunia spring up and pin her son to the floor.

"You can have it," Vernon said. He looked livid.

"But Dad!" Dudley exclaimed, shaken by the way his parents were acting.

Harry put his wand down. He grabbed his bags and made his way upstairs, bursting into Dudley's second room and flopping onto the bed. It had been the most eventful day of Harry's life.

He lay on the bed for a couple minutes, closing his eyes to enter the wizarding world again in his imagination.

Then Hedwig hooted angrily, causing Harry to awake from his fantasy. He got up and freed the bird from her cage.

"Sorry," he said. He knew what it felt like to be locked up.

Harry looked around the room, deciding he didn't want Dudley's toys taking up half of it. He started stacking them up and moving them to the corner. It took him a while, and by the time Harry was done, the sky had started turning orange.

Petunia then walked in with a bag full of clothes and a plate of roast dinner.

"Thank you," Harry said as she placed the things down.

She looked at him, about to say something, but then Hedwig swooped over and landed on Harry's shoulder. She screamed and ran out of the room, causing Hedwig to give Harry an offended look.

"Don't worry, they don't like me much either."

He quickly downed his dinner, leaving some of it for Hedwig, and changed into some of his new clothes, smiling as he realised he wouldn't have to roll up his sleeves. Next, he unpacked his things. He left most of the stuff he'd need for Hogwarts in his trunk, and regretted buying so many books as he emptied the bag from Flourish and Blotts all over the floor.

It was quite late when Harry had finally finished. He had let Hedwig out through the window to hunt, and he resigned to his bed, picking up one of the many books he had to read. Hogwarts: A History it was called, and it had an interesting front cover. On it there were four emblems: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. He stared at the Gryffindor emblem curiously, it was a vaguely familiar lion in red and orange colours. And that was when it hit him. The mystery. He jumped out of bed, scanning through the mess of books on his floor. Where was it?

After some frantic searching, Harry finally found it; the book that only he could see. On the front was the Gryffindor emblem, identical to the one in Hogwarts: A History.

He opened it, expecting to see the same blank pages he had done before. Instead, it was as if Harry was looking through a window. In front of him was a large oak tree, leaves rustling as a light breeze passed through. Invitingly, the cool air caressed his face.

"Hello?" Harry called. There was no reply. Hesitantly, he moved his hand towards the tree, finding no barrier where there ought to be pages. Murmuring voices grew louder and louder as Harry's arm reached further. The floor beneath him dampened as his fingers lightly traced the aged bark.

Harry scrambled to his feet. The Sun was at its halfway point in the sky, beaming down at the busy marketplace he found himself in. Slowly, he stepped off the grass onto the crowded pavement.

"Two potatoes for the price of one! Get them before they're gone! You there — be good and grab a bag for your mother."

"No I'm okay," Harry said, backing away from the grubby merchant.

He bumped into someone behind him. "Watch it!" a woman yelled.

"Sorry-"

Harry was shoved forwards, stumbling down the stream of people.

A hand latched onto his wrist tightly, pulling him upright.

"Cheers," Harry said as he turned away, but the grip remained strong.

He turned back, looking up at his captor. Smiling down at him was a tall man with thick locks of red hair and a grizzly beard.

'You can let go now."

"And you will go where, exactly?"

"Home, when I find out how."

To Harry's annoyance, the large man began to laugh. It was a deep, hearty bellow that attracted a few onlookers.

"What's so funny?" Harry said, grimacing as the grip around his wrist tightened.

The man let go to wipe his tears, his impossibly green eyes twinkling at Harry. "You, of course."

Harry scowled. "Who are you?" he asked, rubbing his sore wrist.

"I am Godric Gryffindor. May I ask the same of you, young fellow?"

"But Gryffindor is a Hogwarts House. It said so in the book?" Harry was very confused.

"You have failed to respond to my question."

"My apologies, Mr Gryffindor. My name is Harry Potter," he replied.

Godric stepped forward, crouching so their faces were closer. "Potter… your eyes are very green."

"I think yours might be greener."

"Nevertheless, these are good signs… good signs indeed…"

Harry stepped away. "Now you have failed to respond to my question."

Godric let out a bark of amusement and ruffled Harry's already messy hair. "I thought you were joshing, Harold-"

"-It's Harry-"

"-My apologies, Harold. So you were not joshing?"

"Yeah, no."

A ginger eyebrow raised in response. "Yes or no."

"What?"

"You said both. Which one is it?"

Harry facepalmed. "No. Definitely not. But that isn't much from me. I only found out I was a wizard today."

"A muggleborn! How fantastic! Salazar would have been so happy-"

"-No, I'm not a muggleborn."

"You are full of riddles, Harold. You could have been one of Rowena's."

Harry facepalmed again. "Mr Gryffindor, it's a long story that I do not have time to tell. So, if you wouldn't mind, I really need to find that book and go home."

"Oh, but I do love a good tale."

"Goodbye sir." Harry turned to leave.

"Wait, at least let me answer your question. It might help you go home."

Harry turned back.

"You know how to get me home?"

Godric gave Harry a wink. "That and so much more."

"Go on then."

"Gryffindor is indeed a House, named after me — a founder of Hogwarts."

This was getting ridiculous now.

"Mr Gryffindor, no disrespect intended, but shouldn't you ought to be dead? I know for a fact that Hogwarts is hundreds of years old."

Godric frowned. "Exactly how long has it been?"

It was Harry's turn to frown. "You're not a ghost, are you?"

"Harold, tell me, what year is it?"

"1991."

The ginger man sighed and shook his head. "Nine hundred years…" he muttered.

"Nine hundred years since what?"

Godric smiled warmly, patting Harry on the head. "My Heir, I do not know what help I will be to you. Magic is constantly evolving, growing… my methods will be dated upon the new world, I am certain of it."

"Your Heir… the new world… it seems you're the one talking in riddles now."

"I blame Rowena."

"For the riddles?"

"For everything, riddles included. This was all her idea."

"What was her idea? Who is Rowena?"

"Rowena Ravenclaw, another Founder. She told me this was the best option, but she forgot to mention it would take almost a millennium to find you."

"So you are a ghost. I believe in ghosts now, since goblins and dragons and giants are all real, why not?"

"Ghosts are real, but I am no ghost."

"But you're dead."

"Very dead. It's mysterious, isn't it."

"Totally. I'm really regretting picking up that stupid book."

"I am sure Rowena put a compulsion charm on it."

A small girl ran past Harry and straight into Godric's leg. "Sorry, my lord," she giggled.

Godric patted her on the head. "Don't worry, little one. You'll do it again in an hour."

Harry crossed his brows. "What do you mean by that?"

"Time loop. You are inside a book, remember?"

"Yes, but I thought it might have been a portal, like Narnia."

"I don't know who Narnia is, but you are correct. The book serves as a gateway into a bubble dimension. Don't ask me what that means."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know."

"You still haven't explained why I'm here."

"To talk to me. That's the whole point of the book."

"To talk to you… because I'm your Heir… I see."

Godric grinned. "You're getting it. I'm so proud."

"Did you not have children?"

"No I did not."

"Family?"

"No one I wanted to write into my will."

"And it was Rowena Ravenclaw who found me?"

"Almost. Her specific words were 'I've charmed your belongings to disappear when you pass. They will present themselves only to the bravest of heart'."

Godric's eyes were glistening.

"Are you crying?"

Godric raised a finger to Harry's lip. "Hush little one. You don't understand."

Harry slid the finger away, grinning. "I think I do."

"Good. You must train hard. Become as powerful as you can be. I can teach you sorcery most wizards only dream of. Do you understand?"

"I do."

The pair locked eyes. It was done. The birth of a great destiny.

"Can you show me out now?"

"Sorry, this way."