Where to Begin
“Are you quite alright, Mr. Potter?” McGonagall asked, watching as Harry shifted with discomfort in his seat.
“Simply uncomfortable at the current location, Good Professor.”
Said location was a small café in London, to which McGonagall had apparated herself and Harry to discuss his attendance at Hogwarts. The reason for his discomfort would be the overwhelming presence of plastic in the surroundings, creating an uncomfortable void of silence where they existed.
“Yes well, I would like to discuss what you spoke of when I located you. You said you left your relatives? Along with mentioning Annwn?”
“I suppose that would be a good place to begin.” Harry answered. “I did, indeed, leave my relatives home. Last I encountered them, they were quite possibly some of the most morally repugnant people in existence. I had decided to leave the household that housed me inside a cupboard-“
“A cupboard?” McGonagall asked, aghast and slightly disbelieving.
“Yes, a cupboard. And not for lack of space, my cousin Dudley had a room dedicated to the various belongings he had broken. Regardless, I had decided to leave the Dursley’s, having reshaped an outfit comprised of my cousin’s old clothes into what you see now, ensured my presence on a camping trip, and left.”
“A singular outfit? That you ‘reshaped’?” McGonagall asked, clearly skeptical.
“Yes. It’s not as though it was hard, seeing as I can use magic, and singing the clothes to never be dirty was a simple enough enchantment.”
“Sing?”
“Never mind that just yet. When I left, I passed through a tree arch, inadvertently entering Annwn for the first time, exiting through a henge. That was the first of my trips, though I’ve visited it rather a lot. Of course, I’ve also encountered a rather wide range of y Tylwyth Teg.”
“Which would explain the method by which you greeted me. Now, your letter, Mr. Potter.”
Accepting the offered parchment envelope, Harry opened it, pulling out two lengths of parchment. Ignoring the first length, a simple notice of acceptance and date by which correspondence ought to occur, Harry gave the second length a read, immediately taking issue with four things.
“The uniform calls for a robe, and a pointed hat. And the required provisions list a wand. Also, the list of allowed animal companions is… limiting.”
“Yes.”
“I do believe you may have to arrange a meeting with Headmaster Dumbledore.”
“Why on earth would that be necessary?”
“I refuse to wear an outfit that does not befit my role, and I will not use a wand.”
“They are required, Mr. Potter.” McGonagall responded, irate at Harry’s brazen refusal.
“All the same, I would rather speak with the headmaster.”
“If you would agree to accompany me to Diagon Alley, our shopping district, to acquire your supplies, then that might be arrangeable.” McGonagall said, seeing the stubborn look on Harry’s face.
“Ah, a barter. Though not a well-weighted one.” Harry commented. “Rather more weighted in your favor, seeing as you said it would be a possibility to arrange such a meeting.”
“A barter?” McGonagall asked, confused. “It was not a mere possibility, Mr. Potter, it was an attempt to get you to agree to accompany me, in exchange for the meeting.”
“Well, it was a rather poorly phrased barter. I suppose I’ll accompany you then.”
-{╣ ҉ ╠}-
Harry, thus far, was rather unimpressed with the society that these magicians seemed to have constructed for themselves, seeing as the entrance to the primary shopping district was through… a dingy pub. They had exited into a small courtyard, where Harry had then immediately yelped in pain, gaining concerned looks from McGonagall and Artorius.
“Everything is fine. Please, continue.” Harry said, deciding against telling McGonagall about the songs he could hear.
The reason for the yelp was the cacophony of triangle chimes emanating from somewhere beyond the courtyard, made all the louder by the standard orchestra of songs he tended to hear.. The sheer level of noise was rather overwhelming. As he followed the professor after she had opened the way to the Alley, Harry was successfully distracted from the noise of metallic triangles and their ringing by the ever-present humming noise he hadn’t heard over the cacophony.
And it was coming from their destination, the bank.
As they came to a standstill in front of the marble edifice, McGonagall gestured to the building, clearly deaf to the magic emanating off of it.
“This, Mr. Potter, is Gringotts, the primary bank in Wizarding Britain, which is run by-“
“Coblynau.” Harry said, interrupting her, looking at the small, distinctly ugly figures standing in front of the bank.
“Goblins, Mr. Potter, the bank is run by goblins.”
“No, those are Coblynau, Good Professor.” Harry retorted, looking on with curiosity at the suits of armor that the ones he could see were wearing. “They mightn’t be wearing the clothing traditionally adorning their bodies, but artifice does not fact make.”
Shaking her head wearily, McGonagall led Harry into the building proper. As he had expected, walking through the doors, Harry felt a gossamer-like veil part in his way, a telltale sign of a faeries magic at play. Looking around, he was a mite confused at the rather abrasive attitude with which the Coblynau were treating the humans. Traditionally, they were rather friendly, though that was to miners, so it was entirely possible the incorrect profession, combined with ignorance, had simply soured the Folk’s opinions of humans.
When they were finally seen by a teller, McGonagall withdrew a key, placing it on the counter.
“Mr. Potter would like to make a withdrawal from his vault.” McGonagall said, before turning to Harry. “Would you wish for me to accompany you to your vault?”
“That would be unnecessary, Good Professor.” Harry replied, before turning to the coblyn. “What would this institution’s policy on animal companions be?”
“They do not tend to be allowed beyond the foyer, bard.”
“Sorry Artorius, you’ll have to stay here.” Harry said, ignoring McGonagall’s mouthed questioning of the coblyn’s wording. “You understand, right?”
In response, Artorius walked to the doors and lay down beside them.
After a rather harrowing ride on a minecart, Harry found himself staring at a pile of gold, silver, and bronze coins. Turning to the bank, employee Harry asked the first question that came to mind.
“Good Coblyn, what would the denominations for the currency be?”
“Finally, someone who knows what we are.” The coblyn grumbled under his breath. “Galleons, Sickles and Knuts. Fourteen sickles to a Galleon, seven knuts to a sickle. Gold, silver and bronze, respectively.”
“Well, that seems… unintuitive.” Harry commented, heading into the vault. “I suppose the magicians tend to think you goblins?”
“Annoyingly, yes.”
“Goblins are continental, though, not insular. I take it they also determined the denominations in which the currencies convert to each other?” Harry asked as he collected what he thought would be a decent amount for each of the types of coins.
“Indeed. Tell me bard, what plans have you?”
“As of right now? Not many. The reason for my presence here primarily lies in a barter pertaining to one of the schools the magicians have.”
“Hogwarts.” The coblyn spat out as Harry emerged from his vault, depositing his key in his bag after the door was locked.
“Ill will between your people and the school?”
“A founder. And a thief. He found and stole the sword Durendal.”
“A sword of legend as I understand, used by one of Charlemagne’s warriors.” Harry commented during the minecart ride. “I take it was forged by one of the Folk?”
“Indeed, it was. More importantly, the humans failed to return it to a Lake.”
“As I understand, Hogwarts has a lake. Though it mightn’t be a Lake, I shall nevertheless attempt to return the sword should I stumble upon it.” Harry said as he climbed out the minecart and followed the coblyn back to the foyer. “Good day, Good Neighbor.”
-{╣ ҉ ╠}-
Shortly after returning to the surface, McGonagall handed him a map of the Alley, informing Harry that she intended to arrange the meeting with Dumbledore in the meantime.
“Well, Artorius, I suppose I’m rather overdue for a new bag, wouldn’t you think?” Harry asked, looking at his satchel that was beginning to fray at the fabric’s edges.
With his first stop determined, Harry quickly navigated his way to a store selling luggage, buying a satchel that was charmed to hold a great deal more than the exterior suggested, along with a charm to reduce the weight of the bag itself. Rather more sensible a purchase than a trunk, in his opinion. His next stop was to acquire his potions supplies, as well as a collection of items he could create charms with. After that came the astronomical items and the gloves. It was in a clothier’s store that he spied clothing similar to the styling he wore – with the tunics being more elaborate having decorations such as vine embroidery at the edges and a wave pattern at the base – and purchased multiple articles for if he ever wished to adopt a different palette, along with a decent amount of cloaks.
Next on the list were the textbooks. Entering the bookstore, he collected the necessary texts rather quickly before straying through the section, looking for anything on bards or the like. On the way, he stumbled across a book series that was titled “The Harry Potter Adventures.” His curiosity was sated when he located a collection of history books, where he learned his parents had died in his defense, facing off against a Dark Lord who he had, reportedly, vanquished at just over a year and a half old. Eventually, however, he came across his intended targets. Books on treaties, of all things, that the government had made with a bardic order, enshrining certain rights when it came to a degree of self-governance, as well as Hogwarts.
As Harry was making his way to the store that McGonagall had marked as where he had to go for wands, he was sidetracked by a raven. More specifically, a raven was flying directly at him. Twirling out of the direct flight path, Harry extended his free arm, allowing the raven to land on it.
“Well, hello there. What would you be doing here?”
“That would be being a pet I have been unable to sell at all. Apparently, she likes you though.”
“How much would it cost to acquire her?” Harry asked, distaste at owning an animal lacing his words.
“Two Galleons. You’d be doing me a favor.”
Entering the store, it was a short transaction, in which Harry found himself gaining a second companion, whom he had decided to name Lenore.
As he left the store, Harry was greeted by McGonagall.
“Headmaster Dumbledore has agreed to a meeting, which can happen as soon as we have finished our business here.”
“Wonderful!” Harry responded. “The last item on the list is the wand I won’t be using.”
“I fail to see a trunk.”
“Yes, well, trunks are an impractical means of carrying such a large amount of items, so I bought an enchanted bag instead.” Harry said, walking into Ollivander’s Wand Shop.
Leaning against his staff, Harry was immediately on edge in the store. Somewhere, in the depths of the shelves, was a noise. It sounded like the instrumentals he heard from magicians, but listening closer, it was masking a deep humming noise. He was unsurprised then when an old man, presumably the titular Ollivander, appeared from seemingly nowhere.
“Well, this simply won’t do.” The man who was a magician and yet not said. “I am afraid, Good Bard, that I cannot sell you a wand. Had you been in your mother’s position, it might have been a viable option, but as the circumstances exist…”
“Pardon?” McGonagall asked, shocked at the proclamation.
“I had expected as much Good Neighbor.” Harry said, taking a guess at the true song coming from the elderly wand maker. “Though I am curious, why the mention of my mother?”
“Ah, well, she possessed the same crystal tones as yours but sadly failed to cultivate them as you have.”
“Intriguing…” Harry commented idly, shaking his head afterward. “Farewell, Good Carver. I happen to have business to attend.”