Disclaimer: Just a tale about the residents of Underhill.

Fair Folk

There are many tales of the fair folk, of Puck the trickster, of Oberon King of the fey, and of Titania his queen. Tales of the Summer court and their rivalry with the winter, although their were rumors that they were both the same group wearing different silks and furs.

What there are not is tales of the nobodies, the common ordinary fairies that inhabit our world that regard the schemes of their nobility with the same sense of detachment that the common man regards his leaders. And since no voting is allowed in their leadership it allowed the average fae to consider it more of theater then law, not that the fae have much truck with law anyway.

We all know the story of Harry Potter; of how his parents were killed, of how he was placed on his relatives' doorstep with not but a note of explanation, and of how in most timelines he would grow up abused and neglected. But what if something else happened? What if a group of Traveling Fairies . . . no not that kind, (tho the story of Harry being raised by the local Ballerina and Theater group does have a happier ending then most mainlines), were to find him crying on the front step of the Dursley house a few minutes after Dumbledore abandoned him, in the chilly morning's frost?

"Did you find what was distressing the birds?" A three inch woman with a pair of gossamer butterfly wings called out. She looked over towards where her friend was hovering in irritation. "Well?" With a sigh, she made the short flight over to see what had so enthralled the other pixie. "It's a baby."

"Cute one too," her friend agreed, "such an adorable little nose."

"And just look at those eyes," the first pixie said excitedly, "look at 'em."

"One of the Lords he is," her companion agreed, "no mistaking that shade. We should keep 'im. Jest think of it, a lord of our very own."

"His blood is rather weak," the first fae said doubtfully. "Been generations since one of the high ones dallied with this one's ancestor."

"Weak or strong he's one of the nobs," her companion said haughtily, "one might say it's our duty to look after him and blood can always be strengthened"

"He's such a cute little thing isn't he?"

"And 's not like the humans want him," the fae said with a nod, "jest abandoned a perfectly good baby. They've got no cause to complain if someone decides to take it for themselves."

"But where will we keep it? We've got no great mansion of our own and nobs seem to need things like that."

"This one looks sturdy enough," she hovered around to inspect the Dursley house, "could be better but it will work for now. When he gets bigger... we'll just get a bigger place."

"I'll get the others then shall I?"

"And I'll look after our new child."

The fae never lost their fascination in Harry and because of this he had a happy if less then normal childhood. Every moment of the day he was surrounded by any number of attendants devoted to ensuring that he led a happy and healthy life, and that he grew into a responsible and successful member of the noble class, which is quite ironic since the noble class of the fae seemed allergic to responsibility, quite like their muggle counterparts in government.

One odd consequence of this was the fact that several of the more . . . outgoing pixies were quite open about the fact that they'd appointed themselves members of his harem. A term Harry had yet to learn an idea that would drive an outside observer insane while they attempted to visualize the mechanics of how things would work between a six inch girl and a full sized human.

Hagrid would be one of the few who didn't go cross eyed over the notion, but then Hagrid's father had left him with his spell book, containing spells hat had kept his five foot nothing father happily wed to a twenty foot tall giantess.

The Dursley family quickly learned to ignore the new addition to their household and the 'guests' that came with him. So long as they provided the boy with a small amount of food and a place to stay, the house stayed clean and misfortune was avoided. If however the boy was mistreated in any way, misfortune was soon to follow.

"What are you doing Dudley?" Harry asked with a comical look of confusion on his face.

"Gonna teach you who the top dog in this neighborhood is," Dudley replied with a growl.

"Get 'im big D."

"Show him he's not better then we are."

"I don't think you want to do that Dudley," Harry said with a grin, "don't think they'd like it."

"Yeah?" Dudley said. "You think your bugs are going to stop me from pounding you?" He took a step towards Harry. . . . Actually, he tried to take a step towards Harry, but with his shoes tied together, all

that really happened the large boy ended up on the floor with the wind knocked out of him.

Harry shook his head and wander off, looking for the big oak that allowed passage to the dryad Ar'tana's glade, where she was giving him flute lessons. Strangely enough she never played, just directed him in how to and promised when he was older she'd demonstrate her flute playing skills first hand for him.

It was far from the strangest habit he'd noticed among his friends, so he paid it little thought.

Dudley came home from playing later that day to find his father laid up on the couch with his leg in a cast and a foreboding expression on his face.

"What did you do?" Vernon hissed.

"He made me skin my knee," Dudley whined. "I wasn't even gonna hurt him much, what was I supposed to do? The freak wouldn't give me his lunch. I couldn't look like I was afraid of him in front of my friends."

"Go to your room," Vernon growled, "no supper tonight." The man frowned as his boy left, wondering just why Dudley couldn't seem to understand that out of all the children in the world the one that had to be left alone was one Harry Potter.

Harry returned home wearing a mishmash of cast off silks that had once adorned the nobles of the Seelie and Unseelie courts with several small pixies hovering attentively around him. Life had been good for the boy, he had plenty of food, fine clothing if a bit worn by the standards of their original owners, and dozens of friends attending him at every moment. So what if the rest of the neighborhood thought him a bit odd for the fact that he had conversations with unseen companions and colorblind for his mismatched silks, Harry didn't need them and his friends had assured him that if they were too stupid too seek out his company then they weren't worth knowing anyway.

The few children that had sought his company were, for the most part, from traditional Irish families and they never stuck around, just paid their respects, gave a small gift and left.

They weren't what he'd call friends, but they were always very respectful to him, which tended to set Dudley off, as they were also the few that wouldn't let him bully them.

As he walked into the house and noticed his uncle's condition, Harry stopped the animated conversation he was having with a small girl resting on his shoulder to investigate what had happened.

"What happened uncle?" He asked innocently.

"Just a small accident at work boy," Vernon said quickly. He averted his eyes to avoid seeing the guileless expression on the boy's face and the chance of catching a glimpse of something unnatural. "Nothing you need to worry about."

"If you say so uncle Vernon," Harry agreed with a smile, "did you hear about the letter I got this morning?"

"No I didn't boy," Vernon replied in as polite a tone as he could muster, "what happened?"

"A magic school wants me to become a wizard," Harry continued with a smile.

"And what do your . . . guardians think about this?" Vernon chose his words carefully.

"They haven't decided," Harry said easily, "why?"

"Because I think this might be a good opportunity for you," Vernon replied. He made the mistake of looking in Harry's direction and caught the small woman on Harry's shoulder looking at him intently. "Every proper young gentleman should get a good education after all." And it would keep the boy and his 'friends' out of the house and away from Privet Drive for most of the year, he thought gleefully. "You want to learn magic don't you?"

"I guess," Harry agreed with a shrug.

"Course you do," Vernon said easily, "and if this place isn't good enough then I'm sure your . . . guardians can find some place more suitable for you."

"Did you hear that Harry?" The tiny woman on his shoulder asked. "Every proper young gentleman must have education."

"I heard," Harry agreed, "so I'm going to Hogwarts?"

"Not until after we've had a chance to check things out," she replied, "even then I think we should reserve the right to find a better school."

"Okay." Harry liked the idea of seeing someplace new. He'd already seen the local edges of Underhill, rare tho they were in this town, and learning wizard magic might be just as much fun as playing with fae.

IIIIIIIIII

Minerva McGonagall got the surprise of her life a few hours later when she found a small sealed envelope sitting on her desk that had none of the signs that usually marked a piece of mail as being delivered by owls.

"Curious," she muttered to herself. "I wonder how Mr. Potter made his reply." The response was in a fine hand, it was also short and to the point. "The cheek of it," she laughed when she got to the part that informed her that Harry would be withdrawn if the education provided by Hogwarts was of less then the highest quality. "Let me see," she said as she flipped through her calender, "I'm taking the muggle born students on a tour of Diagon tomorrow so." She wrote out a quick note to Harry telling him that she would attempt to pick him up on the next afternoon making sure to express her regrets that she hadn't been able to at an earlier time. After all, she thought to herself, if young Mister Potter's guardians were willing to be polite then it behooved her to do the same.

"It's never easy to admit that one was wrong," Minerva said to herself, "and it appears that I was wrong about the Dursley family. With luck, they will be as cultured in person as they were in correspondence."

IIIIIIIIII

Harry was waiting for his escort to magical society on the front steps of the Dursley home wearing his finest silks when Minerva arrived to pick him up the next day.

"Mr. Potter I presume?" Minerva asked with a raised eyebrow. She was startled to learn that a wizard raised in the muggle world had the same lack of fashion sense that characterized all but the most sensible purebloods. To be fair, her own crimson and gold pantsuit was a bit understated in comparison to Harry's chaotic silks and did stand out a bit less.

"Deputy Headmistress McGonagall," Harry said stiffly. A flash of motion by his ear caught Minerva's attention but it seemed to disappear before she could focus on it. "Um . . . my card." He pulled a small case out of his pocket and withdrew a business card with gold lettering.

"Thank you Mr. Potter," Minerva said dryly, "it's good to see that at least one of my new students has a healthy respect for etiquette."

"There was a book in the library," Harry said with a blush. That he'd been forced to read until he could recite parts of it from memory. "On how to be a well mannered gentleman around ladies of good breeding." And consensus among the pixies was that a Deputy Headmistress had an impressive enough title to merit such treatment.

"Very good," Minerva said approvingly, "take my hand please."

"Where are we going?"

"I'm going to use a bit of magic to transport us to a pub called the Leaky Cauldron," Minerva explained, "where we are going to meet some of the other children that are going to attend school with you."

"Oh," Harry said in understanding.

"Ready?"

"Yes Deputy Headmistress," Harry agreed.

"You may call me Professor McGonagall if you wish," Minerva said fondly. She should have known that Lily's sister couldn't have been all bad, certainly seemed to have raised young Harry right anyway.

IIIIIIIIII

Hermione was waiting with her parents in front of the Leaky Cauldron for the arrival of the Professor that would introduce her to the magical world. She couldn't wait to see the sights and smell the smells, hoping with all her heart that the smells would be better then they had been during the family vacation to Calcutta the year before. She'd been proud of her parents when they told her that they were going to vacation in a slum to provide dental care to the unwashed masses, that pride had waned a bit when she realized how badly the unwashed masses and the slums that they inhabited smelled.

But this will be different, she told herself, this is a whole new world of magic just waiting to be discovered. Hermione would later admit that she was more then a bit disappointed when her guide arrived by walking out of the disreputable looking pub rather then in some flashy magical way.

"Ms. Hermione Granger?" Minerva asked.

"Yes," Hermione replied.

"Come this way please," Minerva said, "we're lucky to have another student with us today. I'd like to introduce you to Mr. Harry Potter, I hope you two get along."

"Charmed," Harry said with a formal bow. A bit of slight of hand produced a card which he presented to the blushing Hermione with a flourish after kissing the back of her hand, as his friends had suggested.

"Thank you," Hermione said happily. Five minutes in the magical world and it was already better then primary school.

"Odd clothing choice don't you think?" Hermione's father whispered to his wife.

"Well, silk is a bit ostentatious isn't it?" She whispered back.

"Ah . . . right, I forgot. Suppose colorblindness could be common in those that posses the magical gene," he mused.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing at all dear," he said with a glance at her lime green skirt with matching pink top.

"Right this way," Minerva said, "our first stop will be Gringotts Bank where you will be able to exchange your pounds for gold and Mr. Potter can make a withdrawal from his vault."

"I have a vault?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Your parents left it to you," Minerva explained.

"Oh." Harry nodded his head in agreement when the miniature woman on his shoulder suggested moving it to underhill where it would be safe. "Perhaps it's time to claim a bit for myself."

"What was that Mr. Potter?"

"What was what Professor?"

"Never mind," Minerva sighed. Well mannered or not, he was still a child. "And here we are. Now, before we go in I thought I might warn you that this bank is run by goblins."

"Goblins?" Hermione squeaked. "Like in . . ."

"Several popular novels yes," Minerva agreed, "be polite and you shouldn't have any trouble aside from having to deal with their rudeness."

"Oh."

"Interesting," Harry muttered as he shook off the geas that hit all patrons when they walked through the door. "Minor compulsion to ignore the fine print and a larger one to prevent theft?"

"Those are the main ones," the tiny woman on his shoulder agreed.

"Mr. Potter," Minerva said firmly to get the boy's attention. "Please take your key."

"What do I do with it Professor?"

"Hand it to the goblin at the counter and ask to see your vault," she replied, "when you get there I suggest you withdraw at least twenty Galleons . . . that's the gold coins for your school supplies and for snacks on the train."

"Aren't you coming Professor?"

"It is considered rude to invite oneself to see another's vault," Minerva said primly. "I will of course accompany you if you request it."

"That's okay Professor," Harry said, "why don't you stay with Hermione and her family."

"Very good then," Minerva agreed. She shot a meaningful look at the goblin as Harry handed the creature his key.

After a few moments of checking to make sure that Harry was in fact the owner of a genuine Gringotts key, the goblin handed it back to Harry and motioned towards one of the waiting carts.

"Just get in then?" Harry asked.

"Yes," the goblin agreed, watching the fae on Harry's shoulder cautiously.

"I am Limpdik," the Goblin in the cart introduced himself as the cart began to move.

The tiny girl giggled in Harry's ear, as she prepared a spell to help change the goblin's name, since he had been rather polite, for a goblin, to her Harry.

"Nice to meet you," Harry muttered as the cart began to pick up speed. As they got deeper, he felt a tingle that marked the transitioned from London to underhill. Harry was quite impressed by the seamless way they'd made the trip and looked forward to seeing what other surprises they had in store.

AN: Formulaic . . . check, Super Harry . . . check, uh . . . double check. Harem . . . check, though I must admit I only added that for the line about the mechanics. Scenes and polish by; meteoricshipyards and dogbertcarroll.

Mini Omake: The Entrance

Harry walked into the Great Hall wearing a mish mash of silks that had once adorned Sidhe nobility. He ignored the chattering children around him in favor of the sky above.

Omake: Sorting

"Of course," the Hat agreed, "your guardians are quite correct. I would suggest the VIP quarters in the eastern wing but the choice is up to them . . . next."

"You didn't sort him," Dumbledore pointed out.

"The child and his retinue get to pick out one of the VIP wings," the Hat replied, "it's an old rule but still in place."

"I see," Dumbledore said in shock. He'd never dreamed that Harry was enough of a celebrity to merit this kind of treatment. "Who shall we assign as his head of house?"

"His guardians have taken care of him before and they shall continue to do so," the hat said mildly, "next."

"That's not fair," Draco squealed. "I wanna be resorted."

"What is it Mr. Malfoy?" The Hat sighed.

"I want my own wing of the castle too," Draco whined.

"Denied."

"When my father hears of . . ."

Addition by dbagini

"I'll remind him that it wasn't his hysterics and crying that stopped me from putting him into Hufflepuff, and if he ever makes the slightest derogatory comment about me I'll be sure to sort the next ten generations of his spawn into a new house called weak-pansy-boy-losers."

Omake: Dobby

Dobby was paralyzed the second he crossed the line into Harry's abode, borders were very important to the fey.

"What are you planning to do to Harry?" A comically fierce looking Brownie demanded shrilly. She regarded her bound cousin carefully, looking for any sign that he might pose a danger to her lord.

"Dobby wishes to protect Harry Potter sir," Dobby felt himself compelled to reply. "From Dobby's evil master . . . oh Dobby is a bad elf, Dobby must be punished."

"Do you wish to leave your evil master?" The small fey asked.

"Dobby does," the house elf agreed. "But is impossible, evil master will never give Dobby his freedom."

"Harry is of noble Sidhe blood," the fey said proudly. "He will release you from the oath of your blood."

"All house elves are free to leave their masters if they so desire," Harry said with a bit of prompting. "Slaves no more so mote it be."

Mini Omake by dogbertcarroll

The Lords of Fae have withdrawn from the world of man long ago, it was the season for them to do so, leaving behind the slightest vestiges of their power, here and there, of course the young and wild one always wander about as they please.

Omake by Kinsfire and thecanineone

Luna gave Hermione one of her famous slightly pop-eyed bemused looks.

"What does Oooh sugar daddy hurt me please' mean?" she asked. "And why did you start repeatedly mumbling it when you saw the picture? And why are you drooling a bit?"

Hermione, for once in her life, was a bit taken aback, resulting in a whole string of blinks.

"Um, if you don't understand you're too young?" she tried.

"Oh." Luna said, and chewed on that for a while. Hermione went back to being all distracted and doodling things that looked suspiciously like Harry in the margin of her parchment.

"Does it have anything to-do with why you told the pixie to try to keep you out of the harem?" Luna eventually asked.

Hermione stopped doodling, realised what she'd drawn, went to erase it, changed her mind, and started copying her arithmancy homework to an erotica-free piece of parchment, all the while trying to contain the Weasely-strength blush that was threatening to spread itself from her hairline to the somewhat conservative turtleneck of her jumper.

"Does it?" Luna repeated.

"Yes." Hermione finally admitted, the blush winning.

"Good." Luna said, nodding happily. "I think the kinky sex is going to be the best thing that'll ever happen to us, then."

Hermione did a double-take so thorough her quill landed up stuck in the ceiling. Then she sat back and parsed that. Liking the equation, she very slowly nodded, staring at her lap.

A grubby-but-slender fair-skinned nail-bitten hand intercepted her view. Looking, up, she found an obliviously smiling Luna.

"Partners?" the blonde Ravenclaw oddity offered.

Hermione considered that. She really did. It took all of five seconds.

"Partners." She said, accepting the handshake.