Chapter 12: A Few Surprises
Thanks for the reviews.
Hphphp
It was the last day before school, and there was still a lot to do. That morning at breakfast, the Finch-Fletchleys asked the boys about their schedule. The two lads ran to get them, so they could see which classes they had together. They came back down and settled at the table.
"Let's see," Justin put his schedule next to Harry's, while Harry started his breakfast again, "we have History, Geography, Art, Social Science, and P.E. together. I am in higher English and Math classes than Harry. Harry's taking French, and I'm taking German," he finished, then looked at his day.
Harry pouted a bit, he wanted to be in all the same classes as Justin. He knew that the other boy was smarter than him in a few things. Their tutor had pointed that out. Justin had been down for Eton, after all. So, Harry shrugged it off, with the knowledge that he would still have friends in class.
"What about magical?" Patrice asked, looking to Harry to answer. "Did they give those classes?"
"Yeah, I guess they want us to study up a bit," Harry said with a shrug. "Anyway, umm, okay, we have Transfiguration, History, Potions, Charms, Flying Games, Runes, DADA, and Herbology together. I have Arithmancy, and Astronomy, while Justin has Magical Theory, and his Astronomy class is right after mine," he answered, scrunching his face a bit to try and read the paper. "The classes we don't share, will switch the next term," he added. "Next year, we can add electives. Like, Enchanting, Healing, Magical Arts, or Divination, but you have to pass a test for that one." He put his fingers under his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
"Hey, there's Football, Quidditch, and Broom Racing," Justin exclaimed, pointing to the notes at the bottom of the paper. "Both Junior and Senior teams."
"Cool, I'd like to try out for Junior Quidditch," Harry said, bouncing in place. He remembered seeing the game at Hogwarts and thought it was great. He thought about Cedric Diggory and watching him fly was awesome.
"You can have it, I'm going to try out for Football," Justin said, smiling at his dad in a pleading type way. Puppy dog eyes and all.
"Only if your grades are good," Mr. Finch-Fletchley said sternly. He was going to remain firm on that one.
"They will be," both boys answered. For this, they'd make sure of it.
"Hey, Dad, will there be goblins at the school? I didn't see any yesterday," the blond boy asked.
"We tried to invite them, and they were really happy that we did, but they have a completely different type of magic than you boys, so they declined, politely," Patrick answered, with a chuckle. "They have their own school, in the underground city, below the town," he added.
That had been a sight to see too. It was something only a few humans got a look at, and Patrick was one of them. He was one of the honored among the goblins. It was amazing to see the tunnels that went on for miles, and the crystal lights that were dotted everywhere. The artificial sun they used was a wonderous use of magic. He thought they were creatures of the dark, but no, they thrived in the light and had their own subculture underground.
"Oh, that's cool. I wonder if they'll let us see their city. That's got to be wicked," Justin said with wide eyes, fascinating on how an underground city would look. Would it have a fake sun? Would there be crystals for lights? All sorts of things ran through his brain. He unknowingly thought of things they did use.
Harry nodded his head, wondering much the same thing. Then he was struck with a thought. "Will Dags let others in, like werewolves, half-giants, and such?" he asked, really wanting to know. He will miss Hagrid, and maybe there were others like him.
"Hopefully, since it is a day school, we can talk a few in next year," Patrice answered, cutting a gaze to her husband. It was still up for debate with the PTA.
The school had decided that a Board of Governors was out of the question. So, set up a Parent Teacher Association. Dags being a day school meant that werewolves didn't pose a threat to the children. It was just a matter of finding them and testing them. For all they knew, since the wizarding laws were so biased, those poor children had no schooling. Half-giants were rare, but they were searching to see if there were any. Other magical races, like the goblins, had their own educational system. There were talks of exchange programs, but they wanted Dagworth-Granger school to get settled first.
"Harry, we're going to do some running around today. I want you to dress nice, okay?" Patrick said, wiping his mouth and standing.
"Okay," Harry said, shoveling the last bit of egg in his mouth, then he too stood and went upstairs. He never questioned Mr. Finch-Fletchley. If the man said to go dress, that's what Harry did. He trusted the man.
"What about me?" Justin said, feeling a bit left out.
"You're coming with me," Patrice said, giving him a reassuring smile.
"What are we going to do?" he asked, tilting his head a bit.
"We're going to get you and Harry school clothes. Since there is no uniform, but a dress code, I figured you boys would like new clothes," she said, coming around the table and guiding Justin away from the room.
"How are we going to pick Harry's?" he wondered.
"He already told me what he wanted when I asked him last night before he went to bed," was the reply. The two left before Patrick and Harry, going to the new magical shopping center.
Harry and Patrick arrived in Gobhan Caraidean and started walking off the receiving point. They wandered the town, taking it all in. It was so shiny new, and there was magic everywhere. The windows glowed with it.
The sun was bright in the sky, the air was crisp, and the scent was fresh. The sidewalks and the streets were clean. There were no roads, per se, but there was a lane for flying. Which was packed with brooms. If you had to fly, then you needed to stay on your side, just like a car. There were even wizards on some sort of platform, directing traffic. Patrick said that they were still working on streetlights, but for now this was best. There were bicycles on the lane under the flyers.
There were fairies flitting about in the flowerbeds that lined the sidewalk. There were other bugs that looked magical. A thin sticklike bug was on the trees, eating what looked to be lice. There were glowing bees and flutterbies, which looked like butterflies, but had smaller wings and bigger bodies.
Some of the plants would playfully reach out and snap at ankles, which didn't hurt, but caused a tickling sensation. They mostly attacked little girls, who would squeal and then giggle as they danced away.
There were crups and kneazles everywhere, and owls filled the sky.
The stores seemed to sell everything; brooms, cauldrons, wands, potions, ingredients, and magical herbs. Then there was the nonmagical stuff; like appliances, bicycles, beauty supplies, though they were mixed with magical, and loads of other things. The furniture store was massive. Not the tallest building, but the widest.
Then of course, there were clothing stores everywhere. Harry thought he saw Patrice and Justin, but they were moving fast, so he wasn't sure.
Restaurants and pubs were on the corners, and there were coffee and tea shops as well. There was even a stand that sold booster potions. Like mild luck drinks, or pepper-ups and things you might need to get through the day. They were all served like fizzy drinks.
Harry had a hard time taking it all in. He had been here yesterday, but he had paid more attention to his friends than the new town. He looked up in the sky and saw a shimmering dome that covered the whole town. You could still see the sky, but it was tinted green from the illusion. Which in turn, made the town's color slightly off.
They passed City Hall, and it was the tallest building in the area. Not as tall as London's skyscrapers, but around ten stories or so. The bank, which just opened today, was the next tallest, and it looked pretty much like the Gringotts in Diagon Alley.
"We'll go to the bank in a few minutes. First, I want to get your eyes fixed," Patrick said, leading Harry down the path. It was a stone path, one on each side of the flying lane.
"Fixed?" Harry asked, still looking at everything. "Do you mean new glasses?" he was a bit excited about that.
"No, I mean fixed. The only reason I didn't take you sooner is because the place wasn't open yet," Justin's dad said, opening the door of an office building. This building specialized in elective medicine. The one they wanted was on the fifth floor. So, they took the flying platform, which was really neat, according to Harry.
It was a simple transparent disk that levitated you through the center of the building to where you needed to go. You just had to say the office number and off it went. It would deposit you right outside the door. Invisible wards kept you on the disk, which was exceptionally smooth in flight. It could only hold two at a time, but they figured anything bigger would be too cumbersome. The disk would then lean against the wall of the office until you needed to return.
There were stairs for those who didn't want to get lazy, but Patrick thought Harry would enjoy the disk.
It only took fifteen minutes, and Harry was now sans glasses. The treatment was a potion followed by a spell. It was painless and immediate. The poor child was almost crying, he was so happy. He hated glasses, and he thought he would always have to wear them. The doctor said that he might need to come back when he was older, but for now he was going to enjoy the new world this opened up for him. He could see everything.
His beaming smile didn't diminish when they finally made it to the bank. He nodded to the goblins at the door and read the same poem as they walked in. It seems that all Gringotts' banks were the same. Some just differed in size.
They stood in line, which was awfully long, then after about ten minutes, they went to the teller.
"Good morning," the goblin said, smiling down on them. "What can Gringotts do for you today, Mr. Finch-Fletchley, Mr. Potter?"
Harry could tell the goblins were extraordinarily happy to be here. All of them were grinning like they had won the lottery.
"We need to reopen Harry's account," Patrick said, patting Harry on the shoulder.
"Hey, I remember you. Your name is… Gaukrogers. You helped me when I was at the other bank with Hagrid," Harry exclaimed, beaming at the goblin that he remembered.
"Ah, I remember. It was your birthday if I recall," Gaukrogers stated, standing up a bit to get a good look at the boy. Potter looked much better than he had a year ago. He seemed to have filled out, and he was wearing respectable clothes. "I see you have gotten your eyes fixed," he observed.
"Yeah, isn't it great? I love magic," the child said, bouncing in place.
"Indeed, it is," the goblin agreed. "Come with me and we'll see about getting your account reopened," he said, putting up a closed sign and hopping off his stool.
They went into a conference room and settled at the table. Opening the account was simple enough. Patrick had Harry's trunk shrunken in his pocket. He pulled it out, handed it over, then signed a bunch of papers.
"We don't have vaults here," Gaukrogers stated, giving Harry a white crystal. "The main branch wants us to try something new. So, we have safe deposit boxes, which are expanded to fit whatever is added to them. The only downfall we have noted, so far, is that you cannot roam your box. You get a list of items, and then call the item you need. Some find this a much better invention, while others miss the vaults. This crystal is attuned to your magic. Only you can open your box. However, you still need your guardian to escort you," he explained, going over the specifics.
"What about checks and debit cards?" Harry wondering remembering asking his first time. he fiddled with the crystal, taking in its smooth side and cooler feel.
"We will have them soon. It is still being processed," the goblin explained, shuffling papers around and organizing them to be filed. "There are talks of turning the crystal into something that will do the same as a debit card. Credit is still not in the works. And checks will be here soon, not that a boy your age would need such," he added with a grin and wink.
"Oh. Hey, what happened to the other Gringotts?" the boy wondered, looking at the goblin.
"I'd like to know as well," Patrick said, leaning forward a bit in anticipation.
"We told the Ministry, that they had broken the treaties, and everyone had one week to get their gold out of the bank," Gaukrogers smirked, a gleam in his eye. He put the folder to the side and watched the two in front of him to see their reaction.
"And if they don't?" worried Harry. He didn't want to think the goblins would rip anyone off.
"Then it was moved here, and they have twenty years to claim it, or it will be donated to charity," the goblin said with a bit of a sneer. "Probably the squib/wizard orphanage. Wouldn't that be a kick in the teeth to them?" he said maliciously.
"Oh," said Harry, not really sure if that was good or bad.
"I'll bet that didn't go down well," Patrick observed, furrowing his brow. Though, he thought it served the bigots right.
"No, indeed it didn't. The government tried to storm the bank, but we simply closed the doors until they backed off. Then opened them again with our army in the lobby. Everyone who entered had to turn over their wand," the still smirking goblin said, deep satisfaction showed on his face.
"Good for you," said Patrick with a smug grin.
"How are they going to get here?" Harry wanted to know.
"They must petition City Hall. They can go through their ministry to do that," Gaukrogers answered, frowning a bit. "If they can prove ownership, then their gold will be transferred to them. We are not thieves, Mr. Potter." He wanted to make sure that the boy understood that they were being reasonable. The purebloods were being given every opportunity to get their gold. They just had to jump a few hoops is all.
"Sounds reasonable to me," Patrick said, taking the crystal from Harry and pocketing it. "You can have that back when you're older. We will be supplying you with what you need until you are of age," he explained, then turned to Gaukrogers. "No one can get into his account without this, right? I don't want people like Dumbledore trying to steal from him."
"You are correct, only Mr. Potter can open his box," the goblin agreed. "Standard wards will make it so he cannot be coerced by magic," he added. "The Thief's Downfall was put on the door of the room where the safety deposit boxes are."
"Good, we'll be off then. We have one more stop," Patrick said, getting up and shaking Gaukrogers' hand. Harry did the same and followed the older man.
"Where are we going?" the boy asked, glancing at the magical toy store and marveling at all the moving and talking toys. It was like nothing he'd ever even imagined. He thought the ones he'd seen on the telly around Christmas time were wonderful, but this was mind-blowing.
"St. Bridget's," was the answer.
"Why? Are you sick?" Harry fretted. He could think of no other reason they'd be going to the hospital.
"No, but I'm not going to tell you. It's a surprise," he told the now very confused boy.
'What kind of surprise could be at the hospital?' Harry thought, scrunching his face up trying to work it out. 'Nothing good, that I can think of,' he thought, getting more and more concerned as they got closer to the building.
After they entered the hospital, Patrick whispered to the greeting lady, who nodded and told him a room number. Up the floors they went, this time by elevator. Harry fidgeted and leaned from one foot to the other. He still had no clue as to why they were here.
When they arrived at room 216, Patrick knocked and listened.
A weak voice said, "Yeah?"
Patrick opened the door and guided Harry in. There on the bed was a very sick looking, skinny, bedraggled man. He had dark hair, grey eyes, and a huge smile, which showed his freshly whitened teeth. And he was staring right at Harry.
"Harry," the man said, trying to sit up, but was too weak.
"I'm sorry, sir, do I know you?" the perplexed boy asked, looking hard at the man to see if he did know him. He edged a bit closer to see him better. He didn't know who the man was, but he seemed happy to see Harry.
"Oh, no, sorry. I'm Sirius Black. I'm your godfather," the man answered, as he pushed a button on the bed to lift the head.
"Godfather? I didn't know I had one," Harry said, looking to Patrick for an explanation.
"Sit down, Harry," the man said, pointing to a chair, and taking the one next to it. "Like he said, this is Sirius Black. He was falsely accused of many crimes and put in prison. From what I understand, the prison is not a place anyone should go, be they criminal or not." He shuddered at the thought of the place that had been described to him. Just the thought of Dementors gave him nightmares.
"Got that right," grumbled Sirius.
"Anyway, when we closed your vaults at the old Gringotts, the goblins found your parents' wills in your folder. Those wills had information in them that freed your godfather. It was an uphill battle, and we had to pull a lot of deals to get him released. That's why we didn't tell you. We weren't sure we could pull it off." He squeezed the boy's shoulder as a way of letting him know he cared.
"Oh," a thoughtful Harry said. "I guess I understand. I would have like to have been told, but I get you were just trying to protect my feelings." He smiled at Justin's dad, and then looked at Sirius. "Are you very sick?" he asked.
"Yes," was the blunt answer. "I will be here until school lets out for Christmas." He gave Harry a weak smile and tried to put on a brave face for the boy, but Harry could see the frustration in his eyes.
"I can come visit you, right?"
"I would love that," Sirius said, perking up at the thought. "I can tell you stories about your parents. Your dad and I were best friends all through Hogwarts and after. It's a shame to see that it might close, but from what Patrick here has told me, it might be for the best," the dazed man said, trying to grasp the spoken word. He still shuddered at the thought that Snivellus was teaching there. Dumbledore must be off his rocker, to let that Death Eater be around students.
"Harry, we have to go," Patrick said, when Sirius yawned, looking like he was fighting a battle to stay awake. "I will bring you here every Friday, after you've done your homework, and you can visit then. Sirius is still recuperating, and needs time to get his head straight," he explained, standing and nodding to the man on the bed.
"Patrick?" the weak man asked. "Any luck in finding Remus?" There was so much hope in that tone, that it was heartbreaking.
"Not yet," the other man answered. "We're still working on it."
"Pity," Sirius sighed, lowering the bed again. "Okay, Harry, I'll see you Friday."
"Okay, Mr. Black. I hope you get better soon," Harry said, smiling at his newfound family.
"I will do my best," the man assured him and then closed his eyes and quickly fell asleep.
They quietly walked out of the room and ran smackdab into Neville.
"Hey, Neville, are you alright?" Harry asked, grasping the other boy's arm to keep him from falling.
"Thanks, Harry," the sandy-blond said, smiling tightly at his friend. "I'm okay," he added, taking back his arm. There was a distinct sadness about him.
"Neville, where's your grandmother?" Patrick wanted to know, looking around as if she was just hiding around the corner.
"She's with my folks," the timid boy answered. "They were moved here today. The doctors promised Gran that they had new methods that they wanted to try on my parents."
"What's wrong…?" Harry started only to stop when Patrick shook his head. "Oh, well, I hope they get better," he said instead.
"I hope so too," the despondent boy said, not really holding much hope.
"Don't worry, Neville, they will get the best help here," Patrick offered, turning the two boys back the way Neville came from. "Let's get you back to your grandmother," he said, waving the timid boy to lead.
Neville sighed; he really didn't like to stay with his parents long. It was very upsetting to him that they didn't recognize him at all. Still, he led the way and soon was where they needed to be. Not wanting Harry to see his parents like they were, he gave his good-byes and slipped in the door.
Patrick sighed and then put his hand on Harry's shoulder, taking him out of the hospital, and then home. Harry regaled Justin and his mum about his adventure of the day. Justin did the same when Harry was finished. The parents just listened in, adding a few things here and there.
Tomorrow, they started school. Harry and Justin were excited and didn't sleep a wink. Justin snuck into Harry's room, which wasn't that hard, and they talked all night long about the difference of the two schools. Justin was ecstatic that all his hard work from before Hogwarts wasn't going to go to waste. Harry was pleased that he would be able to learn everything. He hoped to one day make a name for himself, besides the Boy-Who-Lived.
And he was determined to do just that.
Hphphp
Rewrite 10/01/24: Added a bit, not much. Made a few corrections.