Truths and Tragedies
Harry sat and stared at the results. It was nothing he hadn’t expected, but it still stung a little. Dumbledore, this man everyone loved and revered, was the one responsible for his misery. He was the one who had placed him with the Dursleys, who had ignored his parent’s wishes. Why did he have to suffer?
There were so many others who could have taken custody of him. After all, seven individuals had been listed as possible guardians. Unfortunately, it seemed that Dumbledore believed himself to be above the law and acted outside his jurisdiction. No matter what the man might claim, he had no right. It didn’t matter who he was or what he had done in the first wizarding war; that man had no right to choose what family he was to go to.
With a sigh, he looked up at the goblin. “What can I do to stay out of my relative’s house?”
Ragnok leaned forward, humming slightly as he looked over the results. “You have a couple of options. We can contact the next possible guardian and see if he can take you in.”
“I am hesitant to place myself in the custody of a stranger, even if Severus is my mother’s chosen brother.” He offered a wry smile. The truth was more hurtful, accompanied by fear of more hatred.
“You aren’t old enough for emancipation, and even if you were, you’re not fully qualified.”
“I’m hearing a ‘but.’” Harry clasped his hands together.
“There are ways of getting around that.” The goblin paused, reaching for more papers in his desk drawer. “You can become emancipated, in a sense.”
“I thought England doesn’t do that….” He tilted his head to the side.
“It can happen, though it is infrequent.” The goblin said. “In your case, between being eligible for the Potter and Peverell Lordship at this time and the fact that you should be placed with your blood-adopted father, we should be able to work something out.”
“Like what.” He leaned forward, moving to sit atop his hands. It was an old habit that kept his fingers from getting smashed or broken.
“We can switch your guardianship to your blood-adopted father, that way, and it appears you are living with a proper guardian.” The goblin smiled- if it could even be called that. “But truthfully, you would be on your own and living as if you were emancipated.”
“That sounds good.” He breathed. “I can live my own life, and no one will ever know.”
Harry was almost relieved, filled with the happiness of escaping a dangerous household. It was of course overshadowed by a sense of grief that would always follow him. A life alone is what he had doomed himself to.
“Now, you could also have someone on the guardianship list take custody.” Ragnok interrupted. "If you wanted to, we could appoint someone from that list. It would be ideal to find a family, don’t you think?” His voice was relatively gentle, kind even. The goblin nation hated all kinds of child abuse and, more often than not, killed the abusers.
He released a shuttery breathe, chest heavy.
“Sirius, of course, is out of the question, being in Azkaban and all. There is Severus…”
Immediately he shook his head, eyes wide in panic. “No. The man will hate me because of my dad. I’ve read my mother’s journal. He and mom had this bad falling out.” It hurt to think about it and think another uncle would resent him. The Dursleys were terrible enough. He didn’t need another Vernon.
“Remus, due to some… medical issues… is unable to take custody at this time. The Longbottoms are indisposed, and Marlene Mckinnon has passed away. There is, of course, Minerva McGonagall.”
“She’s close with Dumbledore, right?” He asked, biting at his nails. “I don’t think it’ll be a good idea if she’s still as close as mom’s journal says.”
“The last option is the Malfoys….”
He hesitated. “I think I’d prefer to be on my own.”
The goblin inclined his head. “That’s something we can take care of.”
It was a relief to almost be free. All it would take was some paperwork and money exchange, and he would be free.
The rest of the visit was easy; Harry only needed to decide where to live and whether or not to be purged from all blocks and glamours done by Dumbledore. He hated it, hated the pain that came with the ritual. It was nothing new, though. The pain had always been a constant companion.
Upon its completion, he discovered a new look: his once black hair had faded into a deep mahogany color, reminiscent of blood as it dried. His eyes had hardly changed, the deep green staying the same even as their shape rounded. He thought it was somewhat reminiscent of a Disney Princess with a snort. He liked it, even if it contributed to his feminine look.
It wasn’t too much of a surprise. After all, he was slight and minor—though that was a gift from his loving relatives. He looked soft and gentle, with a round face and equally wide eyes. It was a look he shared with his mother; he looked a lot like his mother when she was his age. Harry loved it.
He had shared so much with his mother and found life within her journal's pages. When she went to school, so did he. Her adventures were his, and he treasured those moments for the insight she offered.
His father, though- James Potter- left him with mixed feelings. As a child, he was nothing but a bully, cruel to the Slytherins and those he didn’t like. Severus, his uncle, was one of those children. He had been ruthlessly bullied and harassed throughout his years at Hogwarts. Just like Harry, he had been hurt and ignored in a place that should have been safe.
They should have been safe and saved while at school. Unfortunately, it wasn’t an option for either of them. No one had listened to Severus when he needed to be saved from James Potter’s rag-tag group of bullies. In the same vein, Harry had been ignored, too. His school hadn’t been a safe place either. He was missed, accused of cheating, and left to suffer under the hand of Dudley and his gang. They were the same.
The bitter train of thought was one that he had to push away. It would do no good to dwell on it, especially when there were more important things to focus on, such as appearing ‘normal’ to all those who had already seen him.
He loved his mother and looked like her, but disguising himself in his father’s visage was necessary. It wouldn’t be forever, of course, but the image was essential to remain unremarkable in all ways possible. If anyone were to suspect something was going on, he wouldn’t be able to leave the Dursleys… permanently…
The thought brought a mixture of anticipation and excitement. It stayed with him even as he met Hagrid outside the bank, glamor firmly in place. The stories and bullshit from the giant were easily ignored, especially when escaping from his future. Not too long. Not too long.
Hagrid left him, and he could finally breathe for the first time in years.