I do not own Harry Potter nor World of Darkness
Diagon Alley, London, 6th July 1992 (Monday)
Harry had been busy for the past month, trying his best to complete all his school assignments while at the same time helping with the final touches for the grand opening of Power Potter's. Zafrina, the manager of the store, wasn't able to do proper magic, but her Psychic gifts allowed her near total control over electronics, which was the main reason Sir Harold had assigned the position. During the past month, she had taught the wizards how to operate, install, diagnose and offer simple repairs to every single item in the store and how to efficiently balance the accounting book.
Two weeks before the grand opening, Sir Harold had come to the shop and taught Harry and Zafrina a particular Thaumaturgical ritual of his own creation to summon the spirit from the machine it had been bound to. Sir Harold called the ritual 'Bane to the Soul', but Zafrina preferred the far less dramatic 'Speak with Bane'.
Zafrina had received a lot of possible logo designs and, after a lot of discussions with Harry and the rest of the employees, had opted for a simple green lightning inside a golden ring. Harry found it a bit too simplistic, but since he wasn't particularly convinced about the other options either, Sir Harold had decided to go for it and the matter had been settled.
And so, once everything had been prepared, one of their employees, Mansi Mole, had cast a spell on the building showing a week-long countdown for the grand opening. Over the next few days, gossip about the products of the new, mysterious shop seemed to be the only thing on everyone's mind.
Harry had sent a letter inviting his friends for the event but, somewhat uncharacteristically, had received no reply from any of them. He hadn't received any letter from Samuel and Edwin either, but Samuel was probably undergoing some sort of procedure that required him to be asleep and Edwin… well, Edwin could be literally anywhere on the planet. Or maybe off planet… didn't Pentex have a subsidiary that made rockets?
Harry, Barnaby and the wizards Glen, Mansi, Tierra and Ellie were now waiting for the cloth to drop while Zafrina, in the company of minister Fudge himself, was making a small speech to the crowd of curious onlookers and eager clients.
"...And it is with great pleasure that I welcome all of you to Power Potter's!"
The cloth wrapping the buildings fell, causing many of the wizards and witches to awe, taking a few tentative steps inside following their minister. As instructed, Harry stepped forward and immediately caught the minister's eye.
"Harry! My dear, how nice to see you here. Let me offer my congratulations on the grand opening." said Fudge as Zafrina put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him closer, just in time for Harry to catch the minister's hand and be almost blinded by a camera flash.
Almost as fast as he was pulled to the front, he was pushed back, leaving the floor to Zafrina.
"Ladies and gentleman, our employees will now offer you a demonstration of some of our products. Feel free to ask any question to any member of our staff, they'll be happy to clear up any doubts you might have. Now, if I can bring your attention here…"
Harry blinked a couple of times, recovering his vision as he heard a familiar voice.
"Well, if it isn't Mr. Potter. Fancy seeing you here."
The tone was cold, and Harry felt a tinge of irritation. What gave her the right to be irritated? If anything, he should be the one being mad, she was the one who didn't reply to his letters!
"Hello, Daphne. Glad to see you made it to the opening."
The girl scoffed "Certainly no thanks to you. Was the invitation you promised too much to ask for?"
Harry looked puzzled, the irritation replaced by confusion. What was she talking about?
"I did send you an invitation with my last letter. And with the one before. And the one before that."
Daphne blinked a couple of times, sharing in Harry's confusion.
"You… you did? I didn't… I spoke with Sally and Theo yesterday and they were complaining about not receiving any letter from you!"
"What!? I sent letters to everyone!"
Daphne's look turned serious.
"Harry… we didn't get any letters, and… wait, are you telling me you didn't receive any of our letters?"
Harry shook his head.
"I didn't receive any letter. Like… at all. Are you sure you wrote down the right address?"
She scoffed. "Of course we did. You not getting anything is… weird. Did you put up some privacy charms? Maybe they caused some problems with our owls?"
"I don't think so… We get letters from the ministry every day or two, lots of paperwork about a Muggle Protection Law or something."
"That can't be right." commented Daphne, lost in thoughts for a second.
Harry shrugged.
"I'll talk with Zafrina later. I'm sorry about the letters, but…"
"Don't worry, it wasn't your fault. I'm happy you didn't decide you were suddenly too important to talk with the rest of us."
"Yeah, as if that'll ever happen.
Daphne smiled.
"Good to hear. I guess I'll have to write to the others and explain the situation, uh?"
Harry smiled.
"Thanks, Daphne. Want to see the shop? Since you're my friend I can take you to the back, normally customers aren't allowed."
Daphne glanced back at her parents, who seemed extremely interested in something one of the employees was showing them, before following Harry.
Diagon Alley, London, 14th July 1992 (Tuesday)
The shop had been relatively busy, with many wizards coming daily to browse their wares and asking an almost interminable amount of questions. Oddly enough, their best selling items were CCTV systems, which alone counted for about a third of their total sales numbers. After words regarding the shop's goods had spread, a few wizards seemed to have taken offense at the introduction of 'muggle rubbish' into 'good wizarding households', to the point that on that hot Tuesday afternoon they had organized a trip to personally come to the shop to give Zafrina a piece of their mind.
Once they had seen the Psychic and realized that she wasn't a witch, the shouts had started, drowning out Zafrina's one shout to get out of the shop.
Barnaby frowned, stepping in between the shouting witches and his boss, his bellow echoing through the shop.
"Get out!"
The crowd calmed down for a second, taken aback by the sheer volume of the shout.
"How dare you! Your kind does not belong here! You get out of here!"
Barked an old overweight witch dressed entirely in vomit green.
Barnaby's eye twitched and he lost it. He grabbed the witch with one of his oversized hands, grabbing her by the collar and lifted her up, muscle tensing as he threw the witch with all his might. She screamed while sailing through the air and smashed into the display window of Scribulus, the calligraphy shop on the other side of the street.
"Sorry, miss Dean!" shouted Barnaby, before reaching for another wizard.
He barely had the time to shout before he too was thrown out of the shop, this time slamming against the brick wall of Scribulus.
Barnaby didn't have to reach for a third one. The rest of the group had seemingly got the memo and swiftly left the shop, shouting insults in indignation as they either disapparated or simply ran away from Barnaby's monstrous strength.
That same night, Harry and Barbaby were having a wonderful time reading the latest issue of Buck Racer of the First Corp when Zafrina interrupted them.
"We have visitors. Barnaby, would you be a dear and handle this for me?"
Barnaby growled, making his way to the front while Harry and the Psychic moved to see the confrontation through the security cameras.
One man dressed in black robes had stopped at the front of the shop, in clear view of the camera.
"Ok, buddy. Shop's closed. Time to go home."
As Barnaby made his way through the shop, the cloaked man smirked, tossing his robes to the floor and looked up towards the full moon.
Barnaby stopped, staring at the wizards transforming under his eyes. The man's arms and fingers snapped and twisted, elongating themselves. Short, gray fur covered the man's exposed back and his mouth elongated itself into that of a howling wolf.
Barnaby only had a split second of surprise before his normally jovial face turned icy cold, his eyes burning with hatred. His muscles swelled, his frame almost doubling in size as his clothes exploded from tension. His face elongated, his skin thickened, his foot dug into the floor as the pavement caved under his weight. His teeth grinded, sharpening against one another. His nose hardened, enlarging as it turned into the majestic twin horns of an african rhino.
The werewolf roared at the beast, but Barnaby's bellow hit back with the force of a hurricane, summoning enough wind to actually force the werewolf to take a step back.
The werewolf looked up, only to see Barnaby's massive fist colliding with the beast's snout, pushing it to the ground.
The werewolf whimpered and immediately jumped away from Barnaby's horned charge. It swiped at the back of the rhino, its wolf claws barely scratching the man's thich hide.
Barnaby turned around, clenching his jaws on the wolf's forearm and pulling, easily lifting the creature in the air and slamming it against the brick wall. Once. Twice. Thrice. Four times.
Then, Barnaby tossed the werewolf down the narrow street of Knockturn alley and lowered its horn for a charge.
After a split second, the man launched himself down the street, disappearing from the camera.
"Well, I think that should send a message." commented Zafrina with a smile, before her gaze turned to Harry and her smile disappeared.
Harry was shaking, his breath short and labored. They were almost attacked by a Garou. They were almost attacked by a Garou. They were almost attacked by a Garou. They were almost attacked by a Garou. They were almost attacked by a Garou. They were almost attacked by a Garou. They…
Zafrina's hug brought him back to the present. He noticed his heart pounding on his chest, his short breath and felt the sweat dripping from his forehead.
"It's ok, Harry. Breathe."
Harry took a few deep breaths. Yes. It was good. Barnaby had everything covered. He had been part of a supersoldier program specifically designed to defeat Garous. He was safe.
After a few more minutes, they saw Barnaby returning towards the shop in human form, covered in blood and carrying a severed arm over his shoulder.
He stepped through the door and reached the others.
"Bastard's gone. Ripped 'em arm good and shanked the bitch in the gut, but dude's a slippery one. Dunno where he got, but ain't nowhere I could sense."
Harry looked at the arm, still in its transformed state. Weird, shouldn't it have changed back once separated from the body? Also, now that he thought about it…why did the Garou not fully transform? He had been told that Garous had 5 different forms, with the most powerful one being Crinos. Except… that wasn't Crinos. If he had to be generous, that was barely enough to be considered a Glabro, which was decidedly not the most powerful combat form… was that really a Garou? Or moerely something similar?
He looked at the severed arm. He, or rather Zatrina, would need to send it to Sir Harold as soon as possible. Definitely via courier, after this whole affair with his letters disappearing.
Power Potter's, London, 31st July (Friday)
Everyone had been suspiciouly silent regarding Power Potter's werewolf accident. They had been interviewed by the Daily Prophet, sure, but all came out of it was a relatively mild article on page 25 talking about the need of more strict werewolves control regulations and that was it. Apparently, without a corpse to put on the front page, the attack itself wasn't interesting enough to warrent more than a passing mention. In response of the attack, Zafrina had requested additional security in the form of a handgun for herself as well as the presence of another couple of Kerasi guards for the next full moon, just in case the werewolf decided to try again with a couple of friends on his side.
Harry still wasn't receiving any letters. Ron, Theo and Sally had all come to visit at one point or another and, as a group, they had decided to run a few tests. After a few trials, it became clear that any letter coming from or addressed to Harry Potter, and only letters coming from or addressed to Harry Potter, simply disappeared.
They had found a way to circumvent the issue by sending letters to either Zafrina or Barnaby, but that was only a temporary solution.
Barnaby's presence had caused a lot of reactions from his friends: while the man wasn't exactly keen on revealing his true nature, it didn't take a genius for them to puzzle out that he had to be some sort of creature, or at the very least part creature, even if none could figure out exactly what creature the man was supposed to be. Barnaby actually seemed to find the process amusing, to the point he had started to come up with different stories regarding his family and abilities. Sally and Ron found the impromptu game amusing, while Theo and Daphne didn't seem to appreciate the giant man's humor.
Sir Harold had been very concerned about the attempted attack on the night of the 14th and had poured a lot of resources into analyzing both the arm and the video footage of the security cameras. Unfortunately, what little information he had shared with them seemed to be… contradictory at best.
But today, Harry wasn't thinking about any of that.
Today, Harry was busy celebrating his twelfth birthday.
His friends were supposed to get there in the evening and Harry was finishing his last paragraph on the proper method for milking a snake's poison, when he heard a loud crash coming from the storage room, immediately followed by a bellowing roar and Barnaby shouting
"Got ya now, ya little shit!"
Harry grabbed his wand and darted through the small corridor into the storage room, where Barnaby was pinning a small little creature with bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls against the wall with his open hand. He smiled at Harry.
"Finally caught the little shit stealing your mail."
"Harry Potter! - said the creature, in a high-pitched strangled voice - So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir ... Such an honour it is …"
After a few seconds, Zafrina and Tierra entered through the door.
"That's a house elf. - pointed out the witch - Why are you trying to kill it?"
"Lil shit here was stealing mail." he bellowed, wielding a small box in his other hand.
The witch narrowed her eyes at the elf.
"You can let it go, Barnaby."
With a frown, the man let go, causing the creature to slump against the floor, gasping for air.
"Who are you?" asked Harry
"Dobby, sir. Just Dobby. Dobby the house elf"
Harry glared at the house elf, recognizing his name on the package.
"Is there any particular reason you're here? Apart from stealing my letters?"
"Oh, yes, sir - said Dobby earnestly. - Dobby has come to tell you, sir ... it is difficult, sir ... Dobby wonders where to begin …"
"SPIT IT OUT!" bellowed Barnaby, causing the elf to shriek in fear.
"Barnaby, calm down. - ordered Zafrina - the elf won't tell us anything if you scare him to death."
"Sit down." ordered Harry. The elf burst into tears.
"S-sit down! - he wailed. - Never ... never ever …"
Sierra sighed in frustration.
"Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a wizard… like an equal…"
"You can't have met many decent wizards." said Harry, trying to puzzle out the creature's odd behavior. Dobby shook his head. Then, without warning, he leapt up and started banging his head furiously on the window.
"Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!"
"What is he doing?" asked Harry, looking at Sierra for an explanation.
"Dobby had to punish himself, sir. - said the elf - Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir …"
"Your family?" asked the witch.
"The wizard family Dobby serves, miss ... Dobby is a house-elf..."
"I know that! - interrupted Sierra, clearly irritated. - Who are they? Do they know you're here?"
Dobby shuddered.
"Oh no, miss, no ... Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see Mr. Harry Potter, sir. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this. If they ever knew, miss."
"But why don't you leave? Escape?" asked Harry
Dobby dissolved again into wails of gratitude.
"Harry Potter wants to help Dobby ... Dobby has heard of your greatness, sir, but of your goodness, Dobby never knew …"
"A house-elf is bound by magic to a wizard. They feed off their dreams and aspirations, to the point they die of starvation within a few days without it - explained Sierra over the crying elf, glaring at it in obvious annoyance. - please try to calm it down."
Harry sighed. He didn't like the elf, but if the elf was serving someone, he needed to know who was the one responsible for this.
"Whatever you've heard about my greatness is a load of rubbish. I am…" he started, but he got interrupted.
"Harry Potter is humble and modest - said Dobby reverently, his orb-like eyes aglow. - Harry Potter speaks not of his triumph over He Who Must Not Be Named."
Zafrina slammed her hands together, having had enough of this… whatever the hell 'this' was.
"ENOUGH! Tell why you're here, creature!"
The elf seemed shaken out of his reverie, jumping back on his feet and almost shouting.
"Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter! To warn him, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later! Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts!"
"W-what? - Harry stammered, struggling with the surrealism of the situation, only able to string together the most basic of replies. - "But I've got to go back!"
"No, no, no - squeaked Dobby, shaking his head so hard his ears flapped. - Harry Potter must stay where he is safe. He is too great, too good, to lose. If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger. There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts this year!"
Dobby suddenly started to tremble.
"Dobby has known it for months, sir. Harry Potter must not put himself in peril. He is too important, sir!"
"What 'terrible things'? - demanded Zafrina - Who's plotting them?"
Dobby made a funny choking noise and then banged his head madly against the wall.
"Alrite. - said Barnaby, grabbing the elf's head to stop him. - Ya can't say, we gotcha."
"Why can't Headmaster Dumbledore protect me?"
"Albus Dumbledore is the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts has ever had. Dobby knows it, sir. Dobby has heard Dumbledore's powers rival those of He Who Must Not Be Named at the height of his strength. But sir - Dobby's voice dropped to an urgent whisper - there are powers Dumbledore doesn't ... powers no decent wizard …"
Dobby grabbed a box from the floor and tried beating himself, only for Barnaby to grab the box and lift the elf away from anything it could grab.
"Why the letters?" asked Harry.
Dobby shuffled his feet, swaying in mid-air with Barnaby's hand still gripping its skull.
"Harry Potter mustn't be angry with Dobby… Dobby did it for the best … Harry Potter mustn't be angry ... Dobby hoped ... if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him ... Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, sir …"
Zafrina could barely contain a laugh.
"Sorry. - she started giggling, hand barely covering her mouth - You thought something like that would…" Her giggle turned into a full-blown cackle.
"We learned there was something wrong with my letters months ago. - explained Harry. - Ron, Hermione, Sally, Daphne and Theo should come here in about one hour."
Dobby's face went pale and the elf started to panic, trying to free himself from Barnaby's grip.
When Tierra pulled out her wand, Dobby snapped his fingers and disappeared.
"Fuck." muttered the witch.
"What happened?" asked Zafrina, no longer laughing.
"It's gone. House elf magic bypasses anti-apparition wards"
"Yer talling me that lil bugger can come back whenever?" asked Barnaby, dumbfounded.
"We have special wards for house elves, I can probably set up something temporary for now and we can have a professional come tomorrow for a permanent version."
"What about the thing's warning and ramblings?"
Sierra shrugged.
"House elves aren't exactly what you'd call… sane. This one was obviously crazier than most, but there should be magic stopping them from… well, entering the house of someone that isn't their master, handling mail, traveling away from their house without explicit permission and a few other things that the elf clearly was able to do regardless. I'll write a letter to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures about that rogue house elf and we'll take it from there."
Zafrina nodded.
"You do that. I'll send an owl to Hogwarts, just in case."
Barnaby scoffed, crossing his arms.
"Well, it ain't much we can do. Lil elf was gonna snatch this one from ya when I found the bugger."
Barnaby handed Harry a small package from Guatemala, causing Harry to smile as he recognized Edwin's handwriting.
According to the letter, Edwin had been busy with an operation in the rainforest for the past three months, whose horrific climate made his prosthetic leg itch like it was the end of the world, but had still found the time to send Harry a bag of 'Chiles rellenos' and a Garou fang necklace. Edwin wished Harry a happy birthday, warned him about the food's spiciness while at the same time challenging the boy to eat one in a single bite.
Harry smiled. Despite the years apart, Edwin was exactly as he remembered.
Notes
A bit of a weird chapter. I was tempted to cut off Dobby's meeting, but without it the chapter would have been a tad too short (I try to keep each chapter around 3k words)
So... Power Potter's open! Harry learns Dark Taumathurgy (or at least the basics)! Bigotry ensues! Nothing you couldn't have pieced together by yourselves.
Barnaby is... drum rolls... a Kerasi! I frankly love Mockery Breeds as a concept and I'm really sad they aren't featured as prominently as other creatures. So, I decided to give WOD's artificial rhyno-men a moment in the spotlight. And before you ask... Kerasi are STRONK. Like... Barnaby can EASILY deal 12 damage to someone (in case you don't know how much 12 damage is... a shotgun blast to the face deals 8 damage).
You saw the first of Werewolves and you'll see more of them (as well as the difference between werewolves and Garou) in future chapters. This one was only a taste.
You all knew this was coming, but Dobby's here! Now... you have no idea how long I tried to figure out a way to integrate house elves into WoD... In previous iterations they were Autumn Sidhe, Inanimae... at point I started to dabble into Wraith trying to explain them! But we'll see what you think they are... as always, speculation is welcome!
The dialogue between Harry, Dobby, Barnaby, Zafrina and Sierra is a bit dry, but I hope the rest of the chapter makes up for it.
Answering PM/Reviews
Ngl, I didn't even know Prometheans were a thing. I started reading the book and, not going to lie, it's actually pretty cool. While I'm a WoD guy myself, I do appreciate a few of the things they did in CoD and Promethean is certainly looking like one of those things!