Harry potter and the Time of Retirement

Everything related to Harry Potter belongs to JKR

Chapter 16

Three days had passed since his arrival at Privet Drive and whatever kind of truce he managed to strike with his relatives seemed to be working. The first morning Harry simply went down at breakfast time, took his place at the table with a polite 'Good morning' and ate peacefully while his uncle, who had stopped reading his newspaper to glare at him, soon resumed his complaints ignoring Harry as best as he could. After breakfast aunt Petunia ordered Harry to wash the dishes and so he did, while warning her that he would spend the morning out of the house; something that she did not comment on.

This system worked well the rest of the time, too: Harry received food and lodging, gave a small help with the chores and entertained himself the rest of the time. His uncle still said something rude or sarcastic once in a while, but he just ignored him – something that they all did too most of the time.

Harry, for his part, quite enjoyed this start of his Christmas Break. With an attitude that would befit a tourist more, he wandered around the muggle neighborhood exploring all those places that he barely remembered from his youth. Even something as silly as a supermarket visit was interesting for him, as he was once again exposed to the vast variety of foods, fashions and ideas that came with a muggle lifestyle; too bad he could not buy anything yet. The evening of 24th, while his relatives were out, he spent some time in front of the TV skipping among the channels and mostly watching those with reportages from other countries and cultures – something relatively rare in the provincial magical world. He had never been a traveler or a curious academic, but he could easily imagine worse ways of spending an evening that comfortably sitting in a couch, a weird but sweet muggle drink in his hand, while hearing about countries he would probably never set a foot in.

That piece of quiet lasted only until his family was back carrying with them all sorts of packets and colored-looking boxes. The dominance of red, Santa pictures and bows on them all but screamed Christmas presents.

'I wonder if he is still counting their numbers' thought Harry, remembering that silly tradition of his cousin Dudley in making sure each celebration he had more presents than the last. As a former parent himself, he was stunned at how badly his cousin was being raised.

Only aunt Petunia answered, even if uncertainly, to his 'Welcome back' while uncle Vernon just sent another glare at him; still as long as they remained civil Harry was happy enough. Those two quickly went upstairs leaving Harry alone with his cousin. Dudley had not spoken to him at all since his return, but from his behavior it was obvious he was slowly regaining his courage. This trip to the toy store must have been the final push he needed, for he finally addressed Harry:

"We bought nothing for you."

"Nothing of what?" asked Harry, casually. Inside, he could see what was coming from a mile away, but after such a nice evening he felt friendly enough to deal with him.

"Presents. I got all the toys I wanted, and more. Jealous?"

"Maybe only a little. Have you got that latest game console, that... the japanese one" said Harry, honestly not remembering the name.

"Of course, it was the first thing I – wait, how do you even know about it?" said Dudley.

"One of my classmate was bragging about receiving it, too. A rich kid."

"Oh" said Dudley, not knowing how to continue. "You are not playing with mine, anyway."

"I didn't expect to" said Harry, turning off the TV and walking back towards his room. His cousin followed him.

"So, what's your school like?"

"You know your father doesn't want me to talk about it" said Harry, turning back one second to look at his cousin. When he said nothing, he restarted walking and talking "but it is as weird as you probably think it is."

"Dad said that you are all freaks there. That no one normal wants to have anything to do with you all" he said, with renewed hostility.

"Did he, now? What a surprise" answered Harry, sarcastically. He entered his room, but out of hope he did not close the door behind him and just went to sit on the bed. He could see the hesitation of his cousin, obviously attracted by all the weird stuff in plain sight, and yet still scared. In the end curiosity must have won, because he got inside and started looking around.

"The Standard book of Spells?"

"Yes. Grade 1" said Harry.

"Dad forbid you to do this stuff here! I could tell you and put you into trouble" said Dudley, with an angry face.

"He knows I have my school books here, dumbass. He doesn't know that you are here, though."

At this Dudley went silent, but did not exit the room. Curiosity must have won, because he started checking the book.

"Can you really do spells?"

"Yes."

"Show me one" he pretended.

"I am not allowed here, you know that."

"I don't think you can. You are just pretending" said Dudley, almost menacing and taking a step towards him.

"Tell that to your dad. Or to whoever removed your tail" answered Harry, coldly. Dudley paled noticeably at that, and seemed ready to flee the room.

'….i should really be nicer to kids I don't like' thought Harry, before deciding to give another chance to his still young cousin.

"We don't have only bad stuff, Dudley. Here, want to try one of our sweets?"

"A sweet? A magical one?"

"Yeah. Here" said Harry, throwing him a star shaped box.

"Chocolate frog. What is special about it?"

"The package doesn't open itself, if that's what you are asking" said Harry, while closing the window. Just to be sure.

In the meantime, his cousin had opened the box and grabbed the frog, ready to bite at it – only to let if fall when it moved.

"It's alive!" said Dudley, a little spooked.

"No, it's just chocolate. Like... a toy with batteries?"

The frog kept jumping around, until Dudley caught it again. He seemed unsure if to eat it or not.

"This... this is some weird stuff, like dad said."

"I guess it is. Give it back then."

Finally, Dudley took a bite of the frog, who stopped moving immediately. He must have liked it, because he ate it all. Or maybe it was just Dudley being his glutton self.

"Meh, it was just chocolate."

"Still nice to look at. I have more weird treats in my bag... I didn't say you could take them!" added Harry harshly, when his cousin started moving towards the bag.

"Give them to me, or I'll tell all to my dad" threatened him.

"Don't test my patience, cousin" said Harry, taking out his wand but not aiming it at him. "And if you try to blackmail me again, i'll be happy to show you some spells, after all".

Dudley eyed the wand with open eyes, terrorized. Finally, with nothing to say, he left the room quietly closing the door behind him. Harry, unsure if that could be counted as progress or not, reopened the window and wondered on how long he was supposed to wait before Dumbledore sent his money.

Judging from the dim lights outside of the window, it must have been very early when a flurry of wings woke Harry up in the morning.

'Christmas morning... of course' he thought when he noticed an unknown owl leaving a small parcel on the ground, and another one approaching behind him. Doing his best to ignore them he placed his head under the pillow and tried to go back to sleep but only with partial success: he only managed to waste an half hourbetween drowsing and turning awake before giving up and starting his day. At least, the lack of noises from outside meant the rest of the family was still asleep, which allowed him enough peace and time to prepare a solid breakfast and bring it up to his room, right before he could hear his cousin entering his aunt and uncle's room, arguably to drag them down and unwrap all his new toys.

While sipping his tea Harry started unwrapping his own presents, starting with the smaller ones. He had received a Christmas card from some of his classmates, something that only partially pleased him. Mentally noting to answer those eventually, he moved to a small box wrapped in an elegant purple paper: inside, a quill plated in a white metal – 'Silver?' he wondered – and a letter from Draco Malfoy, wishing him a merry Christmas and inviting him for the evening of 27th to join him at his home. That would probably require a more thoughtful answer than what his classmates would receive. Finally, the largest package of all: inside, a sturdy looking chest and a letter. Harry opened it, easily guessing both the writer and the overall text.

"My dear Harry;

I wish you a very merry Christmas. Inside the box you will find the galleons I promised to send to you, as per our discussion. I hope you will manage them with the same wisdom you claimed to have in my office. There is also an old memento of your father, left in my care until now. Use it well.

Albus P. W. B. Dumbledore"

Stuck under the signature was a key, undoubtedly the one for the chest. And indeed, Harry could use it to open and find both the gold coins and his precious cloak of invisibility. A warm smile of satisfaction arose on his lips in seeing it: not just because of its sheer usefulness, noteworthy in its own right, but because this was one of his most beloved possessions. For the link with his father, the memories of the Deathly Hallows, until those of the day he left it to his own son, nothing could compare to this family heirloom in Harry's mind. And it was his once again.

Unfortunately it was also not the kind of item to be used every day so, with a bit of sorrow, he placed it again inside the chest and, after filling an old backpack with roughly one third of the galleons, he locked the box again. While he was reasonably confident Dumbledore placed some muggle repellent charms on the chest – arguably to protect the money and the cloak from his family – he still moved the chest inside his closet, covering it with random clothes. 'No way I am letting anyone place their hands on this' thought Harry with severity. If there was something he was ready to fight anyone over, it was his cloak.

Harry's next steps were to go and have a shower, and finally to wear the best and warmest clothes he had; he was tempted to take his baseball cap, considering where he was planning to go, but decided not to. Satisfied, he walked out of his room – backpack with him – and headed outside the house.

Maybe it was the season's spirit but both his aunt and uncle, noticeably in a good mood, wished him back his "Merry Christmas". Dudley even went as far as asking were Harry was going, and he answered that he had plans for the day, but would be back in the late evening. He couldn't avoid to notice how his uncle's smile grew even more, at his announcement.

Once outside, he raised the wand arm in the air and the Knight Bus appeared on the road.

"Merry Christmas, and welcome to the Knight bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch and wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this evening."

"Good morning, Mr Shunpike. I need to go to Diagon's Alley. Ticket only, please."

"Eleven sickles, then. Ehm... are you alone, kid? Your parents?"

"I have their permission to go alone, sir. So, my seat?" said Harry while handing him a galleon and pocketing the change.

"Here. It won't take long, enjoy the ride" said the conductor, while walking away. The bus restarted moving immediately after, and Harry – while trying to keep his grip and not get thrown around – just sat quietly and enjoyed the passing houses and cars outside. This was far from his preferred way of transportation, but it would have to do.

Roughly 10 minutes later the bus stopped in front of the Leaky Cauldron and Stan appeared in front of his stall to call for him.

"We arrived, kid. Say, you did not tell us your name."

"Potter, Harry."

"Harry Potter? Ernie, we have Harry Potter here! I can't believe that..." he started enthusiastically, only to stop after he looked back to Harry, who had a very tired expression on his face.

"...sorry. You get this reaction a lot, I guess."

"Yes. Unfortunately." said Harry, preparing now to board down.

"You are a celebrity for most of us, Harry. I... sorry again?" said Stan, once Harry was on the street.

"It's ok, really. Have a nice day, Mr Shunpike" said Harry with a forced smile, turning his back on him and entering the Cauldron.

While not his favorite place to drink Harry had often been at the Leaky Cauldron, both with friends that appreciated the place or just while passing by to Diagon Alley so he spent no time looking around the pub; beside, he was aware that remaining there he just risked another scene like the one in the bus. The place itself was not completely empty, something that Harry sort of expected already: it may have been the morning of Christmas but lacking its religious aspect that was not a particularly important celebration in the magical world. In fact, had it not been simply a convenient moment to break the school term allowing the families to see again their children Harry doubted it would have been celebrated at all, not even to make the muggleborns happy.

While thinking this he passed through the pub and even though some of the few patrons inside turned their head at hsi passage no one seemed to recognize him, or at least to be willing to say anything. Tom, the bartender, didn't notice him but Harry certainly noticed the man as he had been retired for a good number of years already in his "past", leaving the day-to-day running of the pub to some relative or friend or... someone, Harry never cared enough to ask.

Once outside, a couple taps of his wand on the wall allowed Harry, finally, to enter inside a relatively empty Diagon Alley. Most of the shops were open, at least, something that he certainly appreciated: he did not mind just being there after months, but he had more pressing business than just taking a stroll. Unlike some other family who, loaded with packages, were walking from one shop to another. 'Meh, late buyers' thought Harry with a slight hint of envy. This would be the first Christmas he spent completely, well, relatively alone in decades. Usually, all his children and grandchildren would make a visit to his house in Hogsmeade, or he would have been invited to their Christmas lunches or dinner.

'What to do, what to do...' thought Harry trying to shake away his bitterness, unsure on what to buy first. At least, thanks to Dumbledore, the option of buying some presents for his relatives was already gone - 'Did he timed this on purpose?, he considered - unless he planned to give them at the end of the day. And he was not.

In the end, he decided to take care of the important stuff first and see later what he felt comfortable buying with the remaining money: so, Harry started walking towards the apothecary. Facing a defense instructor as Quirrell, especially one with an experienced dark lord advising him, was not something Harry would have taken lightly even with his full capabilities: inside the frail body of a pre-teen boy a frontal attack was dangerously close to a suicide and it was anyway unwise for other reasons. But the versatility of potions was exactly what Harry needed to even the odds, and being the only true branch of magic he could use fully at the moment was not a bad perk either. So, potions it was.

He stopped almost immediately, though. An 11yo kid buying plants and stones needed to create several offensive potions, something that a true apothecary would certainly notice, was bound to draw attention. Reluctantly, Harry moved away and started looking for a corner were to apply some disguising charms on himself and his clothes. This actually put him back in a good mood: in Diagon Alley he could use all the magic he wanted, without any risk of activating the trace; if he still had it, of course. Turning a couple corners, and then approaching a bump into the wall, Harry quickly gave himself the aspect of a middle-age man, completed with bushy hair and a short beard to hide as much as possible his face. Transfiguration was not his strong point, but disguising was a required talent for all aurors so he had no problems at all in casting all the necessary spells.

Once ready, he entered the shop and started to select what he needed: the apothecary, unsurprisingly, looked quite suspicious towards an unknown face buying so many offensive-oriented items, and his raising nervousness forced Harry to give up on asking for the more lethal ingredients. As a small positive side, Harry found himself poorer for a 'mere' 80 galleons, an amount that still made him sneer with displeasure. That was almost a third of what he had brought along, which severely cut into what he could buy just for pleasure. After that, he moved to a library and bought a sheet of paper, guaranteed to be suitable for enchanting.

Harry lingered only for a few seconds over some books who looked interesting, but decided that his regular trips to the library at Hogwarts would have to suffice. Once out he was also tempted by the quidditch's suplies shop, as the brooms offered at school were certainly miserable, but buying a broom was so far out of his budget it was not even thinkable. In the end, pushed by a sudden idea, he bought a tiny wooden replica of the nimbus 2000. With the two small bags still in hand, he then entered into Gringotts.

Just like with the rest of the Alley, the bank was not particularly full that day; unlike the other places though it had not the slightest hint of Christmas decoration. Goblins apparently were not interested in human holidays, be it magical or not.

Shrugging, Harry walked to one of the unoccupied teller hoping to conclude his businesses there as fast as possible; the lack of customers at least meant he had not to wait.

"Hello; I wanted to know if you can exchange some of my galleons into muggle money."

At these words, the goblin looked at him strangely. Who knows what was he thinking? 'Is he even a he?' thought Harry, that could not remember many instances in which he met a female goblin, not even in his role as an auror.

"Good morning Sir. Are you a parent of a muggleborn student of Hogwarts?" said the goblin.

"What? Why are you even asking? No, anyway" said Harry, puzzled.

"Then, no, we don't provide that service." said the goblin, casually.

"Are you aware of anyone who would?" asked Harry.

"There is a dedicate office in the ministry of Magic. Have a nice day, sir" answered the goblin.

"Thank you" said Harry, slightly offended "Thanks for your time, goodbye" he concluded, turning away. He was aware of that office, of course, but he was not in the mood to go there today. Or ever, not with all the fuss that would come in entering the ministry as a still young boy-who-lived.

'Maybe I could send Hedwig with a request... they should accept it" thought Harry, trying to remember if that specific office accepted requests by owl. He never had to deal with that kind of problems in his job, the few situations in which he needed those 'sterlings' he could just pass by and pick them up at his leisure.

In the meantime, with the sun high in the sky, Harry started to feel hungry. Moving back, still disguised, to the Leaky Cauldron he sat down ordering some food and a copy of the Daily Prophet to read. Not that there were important news, anyway: an article about some new policy, one arrest, marriages and deaths, and social gatherings. The latter section in particular was full of news, unsurprising for the Christmas period when all the kids were back home. This reminded Harry of what he planned to do: so, once he was done with the lunch and the newspaper, he placed the paper and the model broom he bought on the table.

A series of charms and transifgurations slowly transformed the single sheet of paper into a series of greetings card: harder, colored, shiny and - those for the girls – lightly perfumed. Those would do, Harry assumed; he wondered if he should add any hint of being sorry for them arriving late but decided not to, in the end. A rephrased "Merry Christmas, wish everything is ok, see you soon" would have to be enough for what was no more than an unwanted social duty.

The mini broom required less time, but more attention. Harry was nowhere capable of creating real magical artifacts, of the kind that were sold for hundreds of galleons in some selected shops littering both Diagon and Nocturn Alleys, but a long lasting application of Wingardium Leviosa could turn the mini broom into a levitating model that would be appreciated even by Malfoy. Or, at least, so he hoped.

'If i knew how, i could make it take order by voice. I am sure it would also sell well' he thought with pride.

"Forgot about the presents, sir?" asked a voice behind Harry. When he turned, he saw a man he could not recognize. There was nothing special about him, he seemed a normal pub regular, of the kind that filled pubs everywhere.

"The presents?" asked Harry.

"For your kids. You know, creating the cards and the toy... but I hope I am not being nosey" said the man, now getting slightly worried.

Mentally shrugging, Harry smiled. It has been a long time since he had a random conversation with another adult, anyway.

"No, don't worry. And, these are for a set of relatives I didn't expect to meet this Christmas. I haven't been in England for some time, you know."

"That must be why I haven't recognized you! Welcome back in Diagon Alley, then" said the man jovially, sitting down on the chair that Harry was gesturing at.

The next hour was spent that way, quietly, with Harry and the unknown man (who he would later remember as a John, or Jack, or something starting with J) talking, complaining about stuff and drinking. Harry certainly did not let the chance to have a glass of firewhiskey pass, and his enthusiasm towards "a typical English drink" as J said, was not faked.

'Yeah, they are good kids but...' thought Harry, thinking of all the Hufflepuff back at Hogwarts. They really were nice kids, but there were only so many discussions about schoolwork, games and Quidditch he could take. A relaxed evening in a pub talking about work, women and your spoiled children that do not know how easy they got it; yes, this was something else. A couple of other guys joined eventually, forming a full table of four drinkers. It was something he used to do once in a while with Ron: they typically started with the latest gossips from work, then he would complain about Hermione and her driven ways while Harry would make fun of Ginny and how often she lost her temper; finally they talked about their kids at Hogwarts, and whatever little dramas they were facing.

It was only with great regret that Harry, when it was almost late evening, had to refuse the old man's invitation to come back again for drinks and card games: he wished he could, but it just was not safe. Lying on how he would leave England again very soon Harry stood up, payed his bill and left greeted by a friendly chorus of goodbyes.

A simple apparition took him back to his room at Privet Drive; no one was inside, as expected but still fortunately, as coming back with the looks of an mature man would certainly qualify as "doing his freakishness". Quickly turning back to his now normal, small body Harry called for Hedwig and sent her to deliver all the cards and the present he had prepared.

He pondered for a second if he should go down and have dinner with his relatives, but in the end decided not to: he was happy, had more than enough food and drinks at the Cauldron, and did not want to spoil their Christmas. Making a mental note to also send Hedwig to the ministry the day after, to ask how to get the muggle money he needed for the rest of his holidays, Harry picked up a book and started reading waiting to feel sleepy enough to go to bed.

Author's notes: today's theme was the wizardly economy itself and, while I did not push the issue in the story, I tried to leave a couple hints on how I think it actually works. As for most of the rest of the magical world, its economy is severely underdeveloped by JKR which leaves it open to fanfiction writers to set it up exactly as they want... and leave me, an author trying to stick to canon as much as possible, with severe problems to face. Fans like to talk of the correct value of galleons – which is an interesting topic by itself, true that – but I prefer to focus on the utter lack of need for jobs and what consequences would that bring. In short, why the hell would anyone work as a bartender, or a ice-cream maker, or a waitress if you have magic? The magical world does not seem to have a need for incomes: you need an house, unless you want it in the middle of Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade (which I assume are regulated and magic-proof) you just find a plot of land, make it muggle-repelling and magically build on it whatever you want. You need furniture, you need clothes? Magic. The spells needed to create them are canon, JKR approved. Food? You can't conjure it, but you can take a crumb of bread and turn it into a full banquet if you are skilled enough. Hell, it is not even clear if you can't simply take a pebble, turn it into an edible animal - which is canon - and then cook it. Taxes? They are not hinted in the books, and an argument could be made that they don't even exists.

Bottom line, what are galleons needed for? Obviously, stuff that you can't get by yourself: items you can't magically create from nothing like artifacts (general stores), potions (apothecary), copy-protected books (bookstore), brooms (quidditch supplies) or charmed clothes (madame Malkin's); that, or human services like the bartender at the Cauldron, the ice cream maker in Diagon Alley, etc. If you want something and can't create it by yourself, you must provide items or services other wizards can't simply create with a swish of their own wand.

The following problem, then, is why don't people just go to the muggle world, gain a truckload of gold by one of the hundreds of way one could thanks to magic, go back to the magical world to live the easy life? To say "meh, it's just segregation" is a bit lazy imho... and yet, to argue otherwise, one has to delve deep into non-canon territories because the incentives to get rich trading with muggles and then going back to Diagon Alley and buy everything are so damn strong. My explanation, completely non-JKR supported, is that it is strictly not allowed or even possible. The magical world is not a democracy, there are no elections and citizens rights are a joke: it is, imho, an oligarchy of the richest families and maybe those that reach high status, like Dumbledore; if they want (and they certainly have reasons, too) to keep the two economies and worlds separated they can. I receive way too many comments on how "something is not legal", from people that almost expect the magical world to be similar to ours, just with wands. Ironically, what muggleborns do and purebloods complain about. Probably galleons, sickles and knuts are magically created with gold and potions or rituals or whatever, which means you can't create them with gold gained by dealing with muggles – even if you wanted to deal with them and knew how to do it. It's not canon stated, but it does make sense and it is possible in canon. In such a situation, the single wizard could live easily without any kind of money or job but if he wants magical artifacts or services he needs ministry approved money – which means approved jobs, and those are relatively rare. No surprise in the books most people seems to work to the ministry – the corner for artifact creators and services is almost full, especially for a small population like the one of wizards in Britain. You can't create the next Microsoft in a town of a couple thousands people.

This also go a long way into explaining why some families like the Weasleys are poor even when basic money requirements are low. If you are not buying clothes at Walmart but at Madam Malkin's, you are buying the hours of work she is putting into their enchantments - and there is no reason to think she expect a lower price per hour than Mr. Weasley get at the ministry, in fact as one of the few suppliers of enchanted clothes chances are her hourly rate is several times higher Mr. Weasley's. Multiply that by 7 children and one wife, and it is obvious why Ron had a second hand, horrible dress for the 4th year dance: a new one might cost the salary of half a week from his father, and that is for one luxury.

The Gringotts scene play into my vision of such a world: unlike other (very well written and funny fics) fanfictions where Gringotts allows you even to buy or sell stocks from Muggles, or can give you credit cards that work in the muggle world, here they... don't. They don't deal with muggles and their money. You want pounds, you go to the ministry – or, if you have the contacts (and the average wizard or parent of a muggleborn doesn't) you deal with some fence, if there even is one.

On a quick side note, the value of the galleons... many find that the JKR official rate, roughly 10$/5£, is too low to make sense and usually quote the prices of the wands or how the twins managed to create a business from scratch thanks to the 1000 galleons prize of Harry as proof of that. I am not convinced: from one side, there are various essays that shows how the prices are constantly in line with the official rate (if you have time, read "What's the Value of a Galleon?" by elfwreck online); on the other, wands may be easily half-payed by the ministry or Harry just got his one almost free as a personal thank you by Ollivander, and for the business of the twins... well, I already said how living expenses, rents etc are probably rock bottom in the magical world. Still, I did not delve too much into the matter – as I said, in my vision of the magical world, the value of a galleon related to muggle money is not that important anyway. There is not much you can buy with muggle money anyway, if you want a magical lifestyle. Except, well, TVs and iPod and plane travel but a wizard getting those is so far out of canon is a matter of crackfics.

Finally... even without the note, this was my longest chapter so far. No surprise it also was the longest-in-writing too.