Disclaimer:
I solemnly swear that the literature and works of the Harry Potter Verse belong to JK Rowling, Bloomberg and Warner Bros. The only thing I own are the one-shot ideas that popped into my head and whatever OCs I would create for them. This is a work of pure fiction made solely for fun, constructive reviews will be welcomed, flames will be ignored. Any references to characters in real-life or fiction are purely coincidental. If I could make money out of my ideas, it would be nice...
Mischief Managed Damn It!
Title: Harry's Alternate Education
Posted Date: November 17 2019
Tags: Slightly abused Harry, reasonably smart Harry, Harry not going to Hogwarts, Muggleborns / Mundanes common sense, manipulative Dumbledore
It was a regular day at the Leaky Cauldron of London, with Tom greeting guests and serving food to his customers while occasionally talking to a familiar face or two. Tom enjoyed his work and life without much hustle, though he would welcome the occasional change in normality depending on whether it was good change or not. One such example happened three days ago when Hagrid came through the door, bringing what looked to be a would-be student for Hogwarts until he got a better look at him and realize that it was none other than Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived. He was a lot smaller than Tom had expected and a touch shy around everyone, but then again that may have been expected since the story around the block was him being raised by his muggle relatives supposedly for his protection. Tom was not sure if that was the wise decision, but it was Dumbledore who claimed to be so, so it shall be the case. Tom did feel a little sorry for the boy as he was getting a little confused at everyone crowding around him, he could only imagine how bad it would be when the boy hit Hogwarts.
At least he got more business that day when the word had spread of young Harry's reappearance. The last time he recalled his bar being that busy was when news of You-Know-Who's defeat by Harry Potter came about. There were plenty of patrons coming in and a lot more Galleons hitting his bar-top for more Fire Whiskey. He would wager that on the day of young Harry's arrival to Hogwarts, it would be a similar deal.
A shout from one of the patrons drew his attention, making him almost bump into the young boy who was passing by him. At a glance, the boy was very short, barely reaching past his waist, wearing somewhat oversized clothes and a red cap covering his hair. A quick apology to Tom and the boy was off to the back room where the entrance to Diagon Alley was.
'Ah, another muggle-born eager for magic.' Tom chuckled at the common sight. There was always one or two that passed his bar just to reach the alley so that they could see more of the magic that would be with them for a long while, although Tom was also a little solemn at the reminder that they would not have it easy with the whole blood bigotry going on. Even if You-Know-Who was gone, the majority of his followers were still out and about claiming the stupid 'Imperious Curse' defense while lining the pockets of politicians with blood-soaked Galleons. It did not help that with the number of pure-bloods decreasing in proportion to the rather alarming rise of muggle-borns, there were plenty blaming them for losing their magic, with the more extreme bigots claiming that the muggle-borns were stealing their magic. Tom was afraid that any war would occur and contrary to many people, he did not believe that they could afford to place the burden on Harry Potter or any other child's shoulders. It should be the Aurors, the Ministry, heck any responsible adult who should be taking the fight to them, but with the current political climate, that would be like wishing for the moon.
With a sigh, Tom went back to his business, without realizing the boy who had passed him was looking back at him briefly before taking out a wand and tapping the bricks in the correct sequence to gain entry to the alley. Once through, the boy adjusted his cap to make sure the scar on his forehead was hidden before moving on, his emerald eyes narrowed in concentration for what he had planned.
'Good thing Tom did not recognize me, that would have been bad and I can't afford to waste time on it.' A certain Harry Potter thought to himself as he looked at the wares of each store, his mind buzzing with all he could see while thinking back to the decision that led him to the alley.
For as long as Harry could remember, his 'family' had treated him with ignorance at best and disdain at their worst, the memories of punishment being at the forefront of his mind. He was always their gofer to dealing with the bags of luggage, their servant when dealing with cooking, gardening and cleaning, and Vernon's and Marge's favourite, target practice for either Vernon's glass bottles or Marge's bulldog. And for the past seven years, he was constantly told that his parents were drunks who died in a car crash and that he was a freak who should have been left in the crash, left at an orphanage for others to abuse, or even to be taken to the ocean to be drowned. That happened more on Vernon's side when unexplained incidents would happen around Harry like him appearing on the roof or one of the teacher's hair turning blue after he hurled insults at Harry.
With all of that over his head, one could forgive Harry for wanting to get away from it all and took the chance given to him by Hagrid when he came to deliver the letter and to bring him here to grab his school items.
That being said, he was still cautious towards adults. After all, in his time in school, anyone he tried to tell about his relatives merely ignored him at best or to blame him for their children's mistakes. Even the principal was more inclined to believe Vernon's tale of Harry being a troubled youth with a criminal record. The only ones nice to him were the old lady at the library who would provide him sanctuary during lunch hours to ensure he had a quiet time and provide him books to read, and the old coach who would make sure he was not in the same exercise group to avoid getting hurt by Dudley. There was a third person who cared for him, but rather disturbingly, the man had disappeared shortly after trying to find more evidence to Harry's abuse with no trace of his whereabouts, with the existing evidence gone without a trace and a couple of adults looking smug.
Those were the genuine adults, there were others who acted nice but Harry could tell they were faking it just to get close enough to hurt him and he made sure not to be connected when some things did happen to them. Oh, the Dursleys tried to blame him all right, but Harry made sure that nothing could be pinned on him when some of his 'freakishness' started to do something to protect him, and he found that he could place 'something' on certain surfaces that acted like remote devices that would go off when those individuals approached them with intent to harm him.
It was that caution that made him monitor the giant sent to introduce him to Magical Britain. Hagrid seemed like a nice fellow if not naive like a child. He was also a follower of this Dumbledore who was the headmaster of Hogwarts, the school that supposedly had a spot for him. A school that evidently knew exactly where he was sleeping in.
The Cupboard Under The Staircase.
There was also the fact that Hagrid somehow possessed the key to a vault that Harry had no knowledge of his entire life. Now he may be eleven and to be under 'adult supervision', but even Harry knew that he was supposed to have it or at least be told about the vault. It did not take much to persuade Hagrid to give him the key, stating that he wanted to find some reminders of his birth parents. A small part of his nicer side was berating him for tricking the nice giant, but the part that was cautious to all adults decided to come out in full force and check all facts, as he could tell that while the giant had no ill intentions, his boss may not be in the same way.
When Harry wanted to ask about his vault, Hagrid was eager to get him out of the bank, stating that he was following Dumbledore's orders to not let him loiter around. Same issue happened when they were at the shops getting the school items, Hagrid kept him from wanting to explore more of the area, citing it was Dumbldore's orders. Hagrid was evidently an avid follower of this Dumbledore, and when the giant blurted out that it was Dumbledore and himself who were involved with his placement with the Dursleys, it took all of Harry's control to hold back his temper at that news. He may have acted a little cooler towards the giant at the end of the trip much to his confusion, but Harry was barely hanging on by threads to ensure he did not explode.
Admittedly, when he got back to an empty Privet Drive, Harry was really excited at the possibility of leaving the house for good, but all of the years of disappointment and what Hagrid had admitted carelessly had rendered him somewhat muted towards the possibility. At the back of his mind, he could almost hear a voice similar to his in a mocking tone telling him that it was just a cruel prank on him, that he would still be stuck with them unless he worked his butt off to get it done. He needed to know more about the world he was entering if there were legal methods of leaving them and any other information about his parents, his fame, Albus Dumbledore, anything that could help him out for this.
So for the next three days Harry speed read the books he had brought and written down the key points, and what he did get was not painting a good picture for him, and it was still lacking vital information that he needed to paint the canvas, which was why he decided to come back to Diagon Alley again while Vernon was still on the road back from the isolated island he had dragged the family to in an attempt to get away from the letters. That was perhaps a good thing for Harry as he could grab what he needed in the house, and depending on his search he might actually take a room at the Leaky Cauldron to get away from them.
Harry was fascinated and therefore distracted by all the magic around him the first-time round, but now that he was getting a second look without being interrupted by Hagrid, Harry was not feeling too enthusiastic about the magical world. He had thought briefly about time stopped in the alley, but a closer look changed that thought to time becoming stagnant without progress. The streets were caked with dirt and the buildings were not built to code standards, or at least whatever standards Harry knew from his own reading at the library. There were only oil lamps and candles being used for the shops and streets, and what he could see in the shops, none of the owners were using electricity or any of the modern comforts. Snippets of conversation revealed much of the denizens' dismissal of those raised normally, and unless he was mistaken, everything was based on the Victorian Period around the 1800s.
Acting as a curious child about to start Hogwarts soon, he went around the different shops to ask about Hogwarts to gauge their opinions. While the majority of them claimed that it was the best in Europe, there were a few who had commented on the declining standards of certain subjects, the attitudes of selected teachers, the supposed curse on the class teaching Defence Against The Dark Arts, and the manner Dumbledore glossed over many important and serious matters that involved bullying or serious injuries to others as though they were just the work of misbehaving children. It was worth noting that the majority who praised the academy were the pure-bloods of certain circles while the detractors were either the mundane-raised half-blood or those considered muggle-borns or first generation wizards and witches.
And then there were the attitudes displayed by the denizens; it was clear to see who were those that came from the outside and those that were raised in Magical Britain on clothing alone, but when one looked at the expressions, there were telling signs. Those new to magic would always have expressions ranging from awe to fear, while those raised in magic tend to regard the former with amusement at best and downright disdain at the absolute worst. The latter from what Harry could tell seemed to belong to the higher echelons of the magical society of Britain, considering the glossy appearance of the robes and the expensive jewelry. That alone told Harry there was a severe gap between the higher class and the working class, let alone those at the bottom of the rungs.
Even the books from the stores appeared skewed in Harry's opinion. It ranged from skipping important facts over certain events that had happened in the past, to rampart speculation over minor issues, and to extreme biasness towards certain species or people in terms of blood status of all things. Evidently the magical citizens believed the 'muggles', a term used to describe those without magical blood, were still using the old methods of transportation by water and land, the latter being the old Ford Car touted as their latest invention. Harry wanted to bang his head against the nearest wall at the outdated text and the stupidity of the denizens. It was not helped by the fact that appeared to be very few publishers in the society; this Bathilda Bagshot had published or co-authored a fair number of books that exaggerated on a few topics and more worryingly made Albus Dumbledore seemed to be a man of no faults, with a couple of books that do have mentions of such faults seemingly beaten into obscurity to ensure no one could question his supposed wisdom.
With all of that around him, Harry was not sure if he was making a mistake to go to Hogwarts if this was their view of the mundanes.
Harry shook his head and made his way to Gringotts, where he was planning to ask a few more questions regarding his vault and other matters. All sorts of questions clouded his mind as he bowed his head politely to the guards before walking through the door, not noticing the smiles on their faces or the surprise from those of the tellers nearby. He went to the shortest queue he could find and politely waited at the end, observing how the customers interacted with the goblin tellers. Harry felt bad for them, they had to work long hours at the cashier dealing with rude customers who held a clear disdain for them or a fear that bordered on paranoia. A quick glance around him gave him the insight that the goblins would be nicer to those who were supposedly raised outside of magic or those giving them the proper respect. With that in mind, he turned back to the front and stepped forward just after the previous customer walked away with an arrogant air. A quick thought to his old fantasy books gave Harry an odd idea for a greeting. It was a stupid idea, but somehow it felt right.
"Good morning, Teller" Harry glanced up at the nameplate before him. "BoneCracker. I hope your business is blooming and your enemies are trembling in fear." That certainly got the attention of the goblin before him as he stopped his writing and looked at Harry with a discerning eye, the sneer from earlier replaced with a curious frown. At the corner of his eye, Harry could see the tellers next to BoneCracker giving him a quick glance at his greeting while he could hear the puzzled mutters of the customers behind him.
"Indeed, young customer. My business is doing well and my enemies fear my progress." The teller eventually answered with a slight tone that indicated he was curious at Harry. "May your vaults grow evermore with the gold of your enemies. How may Gringotts assist you today?" Harry let out a breath that he unconsciously held, relieved that he did not suddenly insult the goblin before him.
"Sir, I would like to make an enquiry about your services." Harry took out his vault key and reached forward to place it on the table. "I was told that I had a vault, but I did not get much information from my first visit, and the guide I had with me did not let me ask any questions. I was hoping if you could tell me, or at least direct me to the appropriate staff member." The goblin reached forward to pick up the key, his eyes still on Harry without blinking. Harry fidgeted but remained standing with his own eyes on BoneCracker and fighting the urge to blink. It seemed to be the right thing to do as BoneCracker gave a light nod that spoke of silent approval before looking at the key and waving a hand over it. He paused on the third pass and looked again at Harry with a raised eyebrow.
"Am I right in assuming you wish to know the full list of services, Mister?" The goblin paused letting Harry step forward and try to reach the table on his toes, the goblin chuckling in his mind at the action and Harry cursing in his mind for being so short.
"Harry Potter sir." Harry did not want the people around to hear him and for a moment thought if this was a good idea, but the goblin nodded again before leaning back and grabbing a sign-card stating the counter was closed. He then wrote something on a piece of parchment that vanished the moment his quill did the last stroke before jumping out of sight, appearing at the foot of the table and by Harry's legs.
"Follow me young one." BoneCrusher started to walk towards the front of the bank where the doors Harry once went through to get to his vault. Despite being taller, Harry had to jog lightly to keep up with the teller, making it an odd sight for those attentive enough to see a young child chasing after an old goblin. The goblin walked through the doors and took a different route from the one Harry took the last time, passing through several doors of varying designs. Harry took glances at them as he went past the doors, noting the different plaques, coat of arms and occasional skulls mounted on them. If Harry dared to guess, those skulls were meant to show the status of the goblins in those rooms, likely managers or directors of the bank. Supposedly the bigger and scarier, the higher the status.
He really did not want to know how they were taken.
"In here." BoneCracker stopped before a door that had a griffin gripping a sword as the coat of arms and knocked three times.
"Enter!" A deep voice called out from inside, to which the goblin opened the door and stepped inside before moving to let Harry in, giving him the chance to look at the decor inside. It was certainly made to intimidate first timers with the white marble floors and dark rock walls, not helped by the battle axe that adorned the wall where one goblin that looked a lot older than BoneCracker and dressed in a dark suit was seated behind a deep red mahogany desk that had several parchments on it. BoneCracker stepped forward to talk to the goblin in their native language in a manner that sounded accusatory before the aged goblin nodded once.
"So, this is the Potter heir that desires our services." The aged goblin turned slowly to face Harry with narrowed eyes, once again making him feel the urge to blink and fidget. "Took you long enough to come here if I may say so."
"If I may ask why, sir?" Harry managed to get that out while maintaining his gaze on the goblin.
"Before I answer that, it is best that you prove you are who you are." A knock on the door drew their attention to a third goblin who came in with a stone basin and a crude looking knife. With a quick glance at Harry, the goblin placed the items on the table, bowed at the old goblin before leaving the room.
"Do you know what this is?" A shake of the head prompted the goblin to continue. "This is a blood identity test. As you can imagine, when you have vaults of gold it is very tempting to waltz right in and claim that you are the owner of the vault. We at Gringotts do not like thieves, so this is a way of testing whether the person says they are who they are. And being someone of your fame" The aged goblin raised an eyebrow "you can imagine how many tried to pull the wool on us."
"I understand." Harry nodded while using the motion to swallow discretely. "So what should I do?"
"All you need to do take this knife, make a small cut on your hand and put in at least seven drops of your blood into the basin." BoneCracker joined the conversation at this point, taking up the knife and gesturing at the stone basin with it. "The basin will determine whether you are the real person. Better pray you are." The two goblins sprouted very scary smiles with teeth showing. "Otherwise you will be wishing that you did not try to rob us." Harry gulped as he looked at the knife before taking a deep breath and the knife from the goblin.
'Well, I have gone this far. Time to take the plunge.' With that thought, Harry placed the sharp edge to his left palm and pulled it, his twitching eye being the only indicator of pain as the sharp edge cut easily into the flesh. Lifting his hand over the basin, Harry squeezed it tightly to let the blood drip into the basin, stopping when the drop count exceeded seven quickly. The aged goblin waved a hand above the basin, making the contents glow brightly for a while before green symbols appeared around the rim.
"Congratulations, you are who you say you are." The goblin waved another hand to vanish the contents before directing a finger at Harry's bleeding hand, making it glow briefly. Harry watched with fascination at the cut healing before his eyes and the hand now looking healthier than he recalled.
"That is awesome!" Harry could not help that remark as he flexed his fingers and looked keenly at the palm. The goblins chuckled at his reaction, finding it a fresh change from the normal.
"Now that we got that settled." The aged goblin folded his hands together and looked Harry in the eye. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Barchoke, and aside from providing financial services to potential customers, I am also the current account manager for the Potter Family." That definitely got Harry's attention and he sat back straight as the goblins looked to him solemnly.
"We have much to discuss, Heir Potter."
It was four hours later that Harry walked out of the bank, his mind bursting with all the information he had gathered from his discussion with the account manager and his emotions acting like he was on a roller coaster with no end at sight. He only got a small bit of knowledge from Hagrid and the books about his identity, but to hear from the goblins that his family was one of the oldest and wealthiest families in Britain that spanned nearly as long and as far as the Arthurian period, and had a hand in a few important places, including the placement of the current monarchy of muggle Britain, made him pinch himself a few times just to see if he was dreaming, much to the amusement of the account manager and BoneCracker.
The vault he came to the previous time was apparently his trust vault solely for educational purposes, with the Potter Family Vaults under lockdown as per the standard procedure and the word of his parents evidently. Something that was taken seriously as he was told there had been attempts by impostors to get the fortune and evidently there was money taken out of his trust vault supposedly for his upbringing at the Dursleys, though as pointed out the amount was a lot more than it should. Harry refuted any claims that he had received the money and told them about his livelihood before asking them to reclaim the money and to change his vault keys.
Harry made a note to never piss the goblins off when he told them about the abuse. The looks on their faces made him almost feeling some pity for the Dursleys and whoever took his money when they agreed to reclaim the money among other matters, with a quarter of whatever interest gathered to be given to them for a job done well.
Keyword, almost.
The bit about his fame spawning books was certainly not welcomed to him considering they were done without his permission or without paying anything to use his name, not to mention they were ridiculous in their writing and they were not being categorized as fiction in the stores. He had read some of it at Flourish and Blotts before arriving at Gringotts, and had a hard time from containing his incredulity and rage at the writings. Considering his first time in the alley, Harry was afraid that people would take it as gospel and would use it to base their observations of him, and if there was anything he had learned from Vernon watching television, people loved to trash and tear down their celebrities or idols.
There was also the bit about the student fees that made Harry wary when he went to buy his books, a just point that Barchoke was more than happy to illustrate with diagrams to show that the school had been steadily increasing the fees to accommodate the teaching services in light of diminishing numbers. While the latest increases could be pointed at the war for the cause, it was shown that the blood status had played into the system as the purebloods only had to pay a relatively small amount, with the half-bloods like Harry having to pay double that amount and the muggle-borns paying almost triple at that. From the examples and the brochures BoneCracker had procured of other schools in the world, it would appear the British pure-bloods had complained about the education being too hard in response to the number of muggle-borns graduating, prompting the education level to be brought down gradually and reaching an all-time low when Dumbledore had taken over as Headmaster, and with the Ministry and Education Board being pro-active for them, the payment scheme was skewed heavily against those not considered 'pure of blood' to make sure the pure-bloods stuck around at Hogwarts by letting pay for less and making the rest compensate for the dwindling numbers.
Harry was slightly ashamed to demonstrate the amount of swearing he had learned over the years in the bank. The goblins though were rather amused at his choice of words and even complemented his combination.
And then there was what he had found in the family vault that was definitely the linchpin in his decision to come to Hogwarts by September...
"... so much going on here, can I please go to Hogwarts?" A voice broke his thoughts and drew his attention to a scene outside one of the stores. A dark-skinned child the same age as him dressed in muggle clothing was pointing stuff out to a woman similarly clothed, obviously a prospective child trying to impress his mother enough to let him go to Hogwarts. Near them, Harry saw a few others who were dressed similarly with other children pointing stuff out, and once again the magical denizens were either ignoring them or sneering with full contempt, with the mothers getting a fair number of slimy leers directed at them.
"I don't know Dean, I am a little worried about the prices." The woman looked at some of the items with a worried expression. "The conversion of pounds seemed very skewed, and we are still waiting for information from that teacher."
"I know that, but don't you think I can learn more at an actual school?" The now named Dean tried to beg her to consider. At that point Harry was close enough to hear them and decided to give his view based on the information he had gotten at the bank.
"That is true, but you might want to figure out more before considering Hogwarts." Harry squirmed lightly at the parents and children turning to him around the same time. "Sorry, I could not help overhearing what you were speaking about and I just blurt it out."
"No no, it is fine my dear." The mother of Dean waved a hand with a smile. "My name is Melissa Thomas, and this is my son Dean. May we have your name?" Harry hesitated for a moment as he looked at her and the rest of the parents.
"You may call me Harry." He brought out a hand for them to shake which they did.
"So what were you saying about us figuring out more before entering Hogwarts?" The others behind Melissa also nodded while their children got closer to listen in. Harry frowned lightly as he considered his words.
"I too was invited to Hogwarts roughly three days ago, but during that time I have been trying to look up information about Hogwarts and the whole magical society. I came back here to get some answers and now I am actually reconsidering my decision to attend the academy based on what I have found."
"Is that so, young lad?" A brown-haired man dressed in a business suit asked with a posh style of speaking, likely one of the white collar business man. "May we enquire about your information?"
"Sure." Harry looked around at the group before looking back to Melissa. "I think we will need a place to discuss. Do you wish to go to the Leaky Cauldron for drinks or Florean Fortescue for the ice cream, or perhaps back outside to normal London for more privacy?"
"Perhaps the last one is best. We can get the ice creams on the way though." One of the other parents gave his comment with the last directed to the children who nodded eagerly for the treats.
"Very well, I know a place for us to discuss." The business man went back to the entrance of the alley to go outside and find a telephone booth while Melissa turned back to Harry. "I hope we are not taking up too much of your time or your guardians'?"
"No, my relatives are not around this week and I have just came back from Gringotts after getting some answers." Harry waved his hand at that. "Shall we make a move on?" Everyone nodded and started to go back out to modern civilization, not realizing that this one decision made by Harry Potter would make a huge impact on Magical Britain in days to come.