The boy who survived.
Chapter 1- The boy who survived.
His arms felt like they were on fire, fighting against sore muscles and pain from layers of overlapping scars and bruises that littered across his skin, just barely hidden under the baggy sleeves that were more drowning than comfortable.
Harry dipped the washcloth back into his bucket and raised it up to continue scrubbing the sides of the ornate bronze mirror that stood in the Dursleys entryway.
Despite how many people assumed when they saw him, his so-called "family" wasn't strapped for money. They just preferred spending it on their darling Dudley or filling their house with useless junk that Harry would be forced to dust and polish lest reap the consequences.
A sharp pain struck up his arm and the cloth dropped onto the table below with a soft splat. Harry bit his tongue to not start screaming the worst words he knew.
Even at eleven he was filled with rage, but knew better than to act out. Glancing up at the mirror he took in his appearance.
Olive skin, that only seemed to get darker in the winter months at least he thought so from the books he's read. But so often being locked indoors or in his cupboard his skin was severely lacking its natural pigment and instead made him look like a ghost. It didn't help that his short and thin frame was matched with heavy eye bags and a permanent blank half scowl.
His jet black hair was almost a rat's nest of frizzy curls dry and split- from both lack of resources and knowledge on how to care for his natural hair. It was long overdue for a cut and fell much longer than he would have liked and itched the back of his neck.
But perhaps the most shocking thing was his eyes. An unnaturally bright green Across the left side of his face was a nasty scar that reminded him of lichtenberg figures- though more sparse. It had faded from age, but still a stark reminder of how different he was.
The hair just above his scar was an unnatural white that started just at his park and streaked across the front of his hair in various strands that he tried and failed to keep out of his face.
He looked more like a hardened criminal than a normal eleven year old. It was so "kind" of the dursleys to take in such a burden of raising the freak child they so lovingly called him.
His parents may have been drunk idiots and died in a car crash, but he'd spent many years wishing they had somehow survived.
That someone would rescue him from the beatings, from being locked away from the world that seemed to hate him for existing.
But years passed and the childish desire for a knight in shining armor quickly fizzled out. He was alone- like always. He had to survive, by any means necessary.
Harry stared at the cloth laying on the table, water beginning to pool and he focused his good eye.
Slowly the rag began to shift, water slowly rescinded and the cloth twisted, lifting into the air and beginning to wipe away at the dust coated on the brass embellishments.
His eyes brightened, keeping a careful ear for footsteps or doors hinting to the Dursleys' approach.
They didn't approve of his gift.
A gift that made itself known years ago after he had accidently dropped and shattered one of Aunt Petunia's precious porcelain plates.
He still remembers falling to his knees, ignoring the pain of shards digging into his knees and hands as he frantically tried to clean up.
With the threat of screams and rapidly approaching footsteps Harry felt something akin to a buzz under his skin, thrumming where his heart should be.
He'd felt it before- but always pushed back, clamping down on the sensation until it faded.
Now- blinded by panic, he loosened his grip. The buzzing got stronger. His vision was fuzzy, but he watched as the shards moved, some flying out from his skin.
Within moments the plate was whole again- not even a scratch by the time Petunia burst in.
Harry had still been dragged by his hair and thrown into the Cupboard for being so clumsy, but for once he didn't care. He felt the thrumming in his chest and the buzz under his skin and knew… he really was a freak.
The thought put a wide smile on his face.
_____
Then the letters came, Harry ignored them at first- anyone who addressed a note to "The Cupboard under the stairs" and yet did no more than the CPS workers throughout his childhood, didn't deserve his attention.
The CPS workers who took one look at his gaunt expression and nasty scars. It was easy for the Dursleys to convince that he was a little nightmare that was exaggerating everything.
They called him a liar.
Nothing- nothing made him more upset than being called a liar.
But back to the letters. His approach quickly went from strange avoidance, to tentative curiosity. He became familiar with the hooting of Owls as much as he had Dudleys stomping tantrums, Vernons screamed curses, and his Aunt's shrill shouts.
The house shook as dozens of letters shot out of the fireplace. Harry held back a snort watching his cousin get nailed in the face by a few. His uncle slipped over others-going head first over the loveseat.
He watched the chaos for a few moments before looking down. One single sealed envelope laid perfectly positioned at his feet.
Harry spared his relatives one glance before picking up the letter and quickly going to his cupboard and hiding it in a hole in the wall he'd carved out back when he was seven.
By the time he'd rejoined the living room they hadn't noticed he vanished, Uncle Vernon screamed and demanded Harry not touch a single letter in which he meekly complied- playing up his discomfort at the situation.
As predicted- after helping clean up the now hundreds of strewn about papers, his uncle checked him for any stashed letters before demanding he stay in his cupboard for at least the next day.
Harry didn't mind- playing his best distressed expression that was only met with a sneer from Vernon and cold indifference from Petunia as the door slammed shut and he heard the lock click.
He waited just a few moments longer before carefully reaching to his bookshelf, covered in broken knickknacks and old toys. A bear with its arm ripped off was scooted next to a pile of books with the covers stained or torn.
Harry pressed a hand into the wall and reached inside, pulling out the letter and dusting off any of the debris.
He looked down at the front of the letter, he'd only ever seen Petunias gardening catalog, Dudleys Christmas booklet, and Vernon's business mail- outside an occasional letter from Aunt Marge. This was the first letter for him.
Mr. H. Potter.
The Cupboard under The Stairs,
4, Privet Drive.
Little Whining,
SURREY.
The handwriting was more stylistic than what he was used to, written in a light green color that he'd never seen on a letter before. On the other side was a simple red seal with a crest he also didn't recognize, four vague animal shapes in each corner.
A snake, A giant cat of some sort, a bird- and a creature he didn't recognize. Frankly he barely recognized any of the animals, only their key features and the fact the times he was let outside he'd seen his fair share of birds and snakes.
That might have been a bit worrying at his age, but then again the Dursleys smear campaign of him being a demon incarnate spread to his teachers and they mostly let him spend time in the Library if it meant they could avoid him.
He knew plenty of words and facts, but he couldn't always put the picture to the words.
Harry carefully removed the red seal and opened the letter, scanning over its contents he couldn't help but let his mask slip and the first genuine smile he'd shown in years grew across his face.
He was a wizard.
Bloody hell…
Only problem was how he was meant to send an owl, especially since there was only a week until the July 31st deadline he needed to meet in order to confirm his attendance.
God how would he even get there, King Cross Station in London. Maybe he could walk? But it said he needed supplies as well and frankly he had no idea what Diagon Alley was.
There was no way in hell he was going to miss out on getting out of this hell, even if it almost killed him.
He just needed to do what he did best- pull the strings and twist fate to his advantage.
Easy as pie
_________
Pie would have been harder than what he had to do.
Thankfully some of the owls had yet to leave when he got the letter, they stopped delivering, more much to the relief of his relatives.
He scratched out a letter of his acceptance and managed to bribe one of the owls to deliver it on his behalf with the offer of a rat he killed while pruning Aunt Petunia's Roses.
He felt a bit bad killing the creature, but he needed this. If he left some cheese just under the porch for any of them left, that was no one's business.
The owl accepted both the meal and the letter and flew off, it was magic so surely it would work sooner or later.
He'd been stressing on how to bring up needing transport to his relatives, he'd even been scavenging away supplies in case he needed to make a run for it.
He had met street kids before on nights the cupboard wasn't enough and they wanted him out for a day or so. Once or twice, even more than a week.
Adults who saw him walking in the dead of night, mid winter, only turned up their noses. But some teens had taken him in and showed him how to steal food to last until he was let back in.
He'd repaid the favor by using his gift to unzip a few purses and pull out a few wallets.
Harry survived- surely he could do it again now he was older.
His birthday came and went with little fanfare from his relatives. Shockingly, Dudley told him Happy Birthday. But before Harry could choke out a response a flash of something in his eyes and suddenly the boy sneered and turned heel back to his toy room.
Harry just brushed the entire interaction as weird and went to cook dinner before he would call it a day and celebrate alone in his cupboard.
The buzzing returned- it seemed to shoot all the way to his finger tips and reach out for something, but he didn't know what.
Harry looked up just in time to see the front door get blasted down and a giant bulking figure step in.
His eyes widened in shock- half begging his chest to react, and yet the presence of the stranger seemed to sooth the buzzing instead of aggravate it.
Dudley however had no such curiosity towards the stranger and began wailing.
Vernon came barreling into the room holding a shotgun and Harry watched the giant man reach forward and simply bend the gun almost in half.
His mind was already flipping through ideas if his magic gave him that level of power.
The stranger approached him and handed Harry a familiar letter “Happy birthd’y H’arry- ‘ts good to see ya ‘ll grown up- dunno if ya remember me, im Hagrid” the giant grinned down at the boy.
Harry ran his hand along the red seal and looked back up at Hagrid “Did the owl not deliver my response- I gave it a rat and everything”? His magic isn't reacting to the man, so Harry could safely assume he wasn't a threat to him despite what he did to Vernons shotgun.
“You did WHAATT”!? Petunia's shrill voice almost made him wince had he not have been so zoned in on Hagrids reaction.
Hagrid stroked his giant beard with a hum. “Well normally they take money, tho always appreciate a treat-but since ya raised by muggles after what happen to ya folks, I was gonna come see ya anyways to take ya for school supplies n all”!
Harry blinked- “Wait, my parents were Magical as well”?
Hagrid froze but before Harry could panic at possibly angering the giant he turned his anger on his Aunt and Uncle “He don't know about James n Lily”!?
“I know they were alcoholics and died in a car crash… James and Lily huh” he said the last part mostly to himself, just how he hadn't known his own name until primary school- he'd never learned his parents names.
His words sent Hagrid off in a rage, and when he accosted his relatives, Harry found out three things.
His parents were actually war heroes and he was apparently famous for being the sole survivor of a direct attack against the “Dark Lord” that killed them,
His cousin looked hilarious with a pig tail,
And Hagrid was his new favorite person.
After about an hour his relatives had no choice but to let him pack his things and allow Hagrid to take him to Diagon alley to get his supplies.
The journey itself wasn't anything special, but just knocking on a few bricks and Harry felt the buzz once more.
Now pressing against his skin as it seemed to swirl in the air around him as he could practically feel the energy pulsing from the whole area.
Slowly it settled and the sensation was gone, but he still felt pinpricks of buzzing deep in his chest as Hagrid ushered him through a crowd eagerly trying to greet “The-Boy-Who-Lived” a silly name, but Diagon Alley sounded like Diagonally, so maybe wizards were just weird about names.
Diagon alley was more marvelous than anything he had ever seen before- he could barely keep his thoughts straight as his mind raced from one thing to another as he tried to soak in as much information as he could.
Before they could buy anything they needed to stop by Gringotts , which was apparently a wizarding bank run by Goblins. Hagrid warned they could be very cruel and cunning creatures that shouldn't be messed with.
Harry stayed as close to Hagrid as possible, a tiny hand clutched onto his dark brown robes as they walked down the hall and approached the Goblin at the front desk.
Hagrid introduced Harry to access his trust vault and some special task for a man named Dumbledore.
He vaguely recognized the name as the Headmaster listed on his letter. To be fair he'd been more fixated on the whole “you are a wizard” revelation to process much else.
The goblin introduced himself as Griphook who demanded their keys before leading them out of the main room. Only to inform them that they needed to go in separate carts, Hagrid had protested but eventually gave in.
Griphook's toothy grin sent shivers down Harry's spine as they were led to a minecart.
Harry gave a last glance to Hagrid before turning to the goblin next to him who silently ushered him into the cart.
He settled down and looked around the cavern, holding on tightly to the sides of the cart as they took off. Turning in every direction, lights flashed and sensations changed and Harry found himself giggling as the adrenaline filled his veins.
By the time they pulled to a complete stop in front of one of the doors his hair was now a wild mess of curls and his cheeks strained to accommodate the unpracticed grin plastered on his face.
The goblin- well um
“Excuse me, what is your name”? Harry asked as they shifted some of the levers in and out of place.
He was met with an appraising stare “My name is Dripfang, I am simply one of the main vault associates, if you wish to speak to your family teller I can contact them in my sted”
Harry blinked but shook his head “Oh no- I just didn't want to keep calling you the goblin in my head, it felt rude- speaking of is there anyway I should greet you? Hagrid barely said hello”
Dripfangs eyes widened just a smidge “A traditional goblin greeting is May your pockets overflow with gold, in return you reply and May the red of your enemies bring great pride”
The cart door swung open and Dripfang stepped out before helping Harry out as well “Oh okay- and what about parting? Does it change”?
A nod “Of course- whomever greeted first will say May your enemies cower and then May you and your kin live prosperously” Harry nodded, doing his best to absorb the information.
Goblins didn't seem so unreasonable, but they controlled the banks, and he would rather be on their good side.
The vault door swung open and suddenly Harry was greeted with mountains of gold, silver, and bronze beyond what he could see.
"Holy shit…" Harry let the curse slip out and swore he heard a small restrained chuckle from Dripfang.
He picked up a golden coin and examined it closely "Are Dragons real in this world"?
This time Dripfang did chuckle "Yes, but they are very dangerous, most creatures of both muggle and magic worlds are so- we even have one deeper in here to protect more… valuable customers''
Harry knew his face was wide with shock "I- okay- um, how much are these worth then"? he almost felt ashamed being so ignorant.
But Dripfang seemed to take his ignorance with stride and with a wave of his hand a silver and bronze coin shot over.
"This is a knut- it's the smallest of all currency, but they are alike a penny in both value and coloration"
"A Sickle is silver and worth just a smidge more than a quarter" Dripfang dropped both coins into Harry's open hand and pointed a claw at the golden one.
"That is a Galleon- it is worth about five pounds in muggle money" Harry blanched, turning back to the mountains of coins in both awe and apprehension.
"That's- and all of this is… mine"? He really couldn't believe it. This whole thing felt like it was too good to be true.
Dripfang nodded at Harry and gestured inside the vault "This is only one of your vaults- specifically for your school education, once you take the title of lord then you will have access to the Potter family vaults which are guarded by the aforementioned dragon"
"Im… I'm sorry I'm a lord"!? Harry almost dropped the coins in shock "Is this what you meant earlier by my family account manager"?
Dripfang scowled, though the anger didn't seem directed at him "Say- Heir Potter, if it isn't presumptuous of me, I can assume your guardians have neglected in educating you of your birthright"?
Harry looked down at the golden coin and rubbed it between his fingers "More than you know-"
A few moments of silence and Dripfang snapped his fingers "That simply won't do- since we're on a time crunch with Hagrid I will set you up with 3,000 Galleon to cover your supplies"
Seeming to notice Harry's shocked face Dripfang waved him off "Now most students would only spend around 200 galleons, but it's cheaper longterm to get a more expensive and more reliable item than go back every year for a replacement"
Harry nodded, that definitely made sense. Petunia used to always gripe about how fast he would go through shoes compared to Dudley. Not caring that she always bought the pairs that were already half falling apart before leaving the store.
"Especially for an Heir of an ancient and noble house, more expensive items tend to come with advanced protection spells and features"
"So- you said when I became lord, who's the current lord"?
Dripfangs scowl returned "Your grandparents had passed from a strain of Dragon Pox and your father took up lordship when he was nineteen, of course in the wizard world you are considered an adult at seventeen"
Compared to everything else he had been told, that was the least surprising. Though his chest ached, the loss of someone he didn't know.
He had grandparents, but they'd died long before he was born. The thrumming seemed to wrap around his heart and slowly the pain seemed to ebb away.
Dripheart either didn't notice, or didn't think to bring attention to Harry. "A rare case where there is no available lord or lady then the Heir can claim that title at thirteen”
That seemed- way younger than he was expecting
“Why thirteen”?
“Because that's how old King Arthur was when he established the knights of the round table, and founded the bloodline Merlin which is one of the Primeval and Most Revered houses”
So the entire government was founded by a thirteen year old- wicked.
“Wait, why would Arthur start the Merlin house and bloodline”?
Dripfang huffed “Because it would be pointless to make a separate house for their children”
Harry blinked owlishly
“Right… Well one cultural thing that holds unanimous among most wix and magical cultures is same sex couples are both common and accepted freely, as are a variety of relationships most muggles would see as taboo ”
Harry nodded, though he was doing that alot, but what else was he meant to say?
This was all so much information back to back.
He had a million questions but he knew Hagrid was still waiting for him “Um- this is… a lot- are there any books you can recommend so I can learn about all this”?
Dripfangs smile returned and he nodded “Of course, lets go ahead and-” he summoned what looked like a small coin pouch, it was a deep rich blue color with red and green beading in a pattern that looked almost… familiar- but he couldn't put a name to it.
With a wave of his hand, a pile of coins in all three colors flew up into the air and inserted themselves into the coin bag, the bag clasped shut and it was handed over. To his amazement it seemed to only weigh an ounce or so.
“That's a feather light charm, it also has anti pickpocket protections- not that anyone would try but still worth noting”
Harry ran his thumb across the beaded embroidery, then slipped the coin bag into his side pocket. “Okay- now about the books”?
Dripfang shook his head “Such excitement, maybe you'll end up a Ravenclaw '' Harry didn't know what that was, but he felt asking any more questions would be pushing it.
Dripfang didn't seem to mind, but he'd seen how fast adults could change their mind.
After being ushered back into the cart and leaving the winding caves and tunnels below the bank, Harry followed Dripfang to a separate room than the one he'd been in before. Though this one looked similar to a personal office, with a towering desk, scrolls of paper around like ribbons, and bookshelves that touched the ceiling.
He was given a list of books to buy and even pointed out a few from his own collection, though remarked he couldn't very well give Harry any of them until he got a trunk to carry them in.
Then immediately suggested getting a bookworm based trunk instead of the basic school one, Harry didn't know if that's what it was actually called or if he was joking. He didn't ask.
Dripfang also helped him make a "key" which was just a silver bracelet that he dripped a few drops of blood on. It was a bit alarming at first but he calmed down realizing it's only function was basically a wizard version of a debit card.
He was still limited to 10,000 galleons a month overall, but added onto his additional 3,000 for school supplies and the fact he was eleven, it was perfectly reasonable.
Hagrid showed up later, seeming a bit suspicious about some “Secret package” He really needed to learn how to whisper, but Harry could care less- his mind still buzzing with all the new information and much more to follow.
Harry turned to Dripfang and smiled “May you and your kin live prosperous”
The hall seemed to quiet instantly and Harry felt a dozen curious eyes fall too him, mostly goblins- though some humans were not oblivious either (Hagrid not being one of them)
Dripfang gave him a sharp grin that now only filled his chest with pride being worthy of such a thing “And may your enemies cower, I hope to hear from you soon Heir Potter”
“C’mon H’rry- we gotta busy day ahead of us” Hagrid ushered him along and Harry pretended to pay no mind to how every goblin watched him on the way out.
They reentered Diagon alley and Harry shifted closer to Hagrid, narrowly avoiding bumping into a few passerbys. He tried not to gawk at the fashion of people all around it struck him as odd- but he knew that was only because it was foreign to him. Made him even more invested to learn and understand.
He'd been dragged shopping with Petunia more times than he could count, he hated every minute of standing in those department stores. The lights and stench of conflicting perfumes always left him with a migraine afterwards.
But as he walked around with Hagrid he couldn't help but stare at every shop in wonder, even the ink and quill shop. Though he tried not to cringe as the worker had him test a few quills to see what he preferred, each use was more chicken scratch than the next. Definitely needed work.
He ended up buying a raven feather quill with thin brass wire wrapped and weaved around the base in a simple but beautiful design. He also got a pack of standard owl feathers as back ups and the necessary ink and parchment.
'Totes, Trunks, and other Terrific Treasures' was a much longer process. The first worker was a bit condescending and insisted Harry but the school recommended trunk, but Harry trusted Dripfangs suggestion and continued to push. Thankfully he was saved by Mr.Tot- who seemingly had his shop theme down to a T.
He'd been thrilled to have such a “young customer who knew exactly what he wanted” and recommended him a case that was 900 galleons- Harry almost physically recoiled at the price having done the conversions in his head.
But he was quickly won over when Mr.Tot explained all the features from the trunk being tuned to his “magical signature” and wouldn't open for anyone else, and that it would also alert him should anyone else try to access it.
Storage for Potions, School supplies, spare wardrobe space, and the ability to hold more than 5,000 books as well as organize everything on his behalf was too tempting to refuse.
He'd done a spell to attune his magic to the case- it took a bit to encourage the buzz to happen naturally. Mr.Tot looked startled when he managed it but his face split into a wide grin that showed off his crows feet. "Seems I underestimated just how special you are" is what he said as he helped Harry fit his other supplies in the trunk.
Mr.Tot didn't elaborate
Harry didn't ask him to.
He rejoined with Hagrid and
They passed through several other stores, buying just about everything he needed and quickly sorting it into his trunk that was quickly becoming a lifesaver. Anything he couldn't fit Hagrid offered to carry on his behalf.
He requested doing books last so he could peruse to his heart's content, Hagrid agreed but insisted he "save the best for last" and finish off with getting his wand.
But Hagrid had a few other errands to run and said he would meet Harry in the bookstore so when he was ready he could take him to get his wand. Harry agreed and he was led to yet another shop, Madam Milkins, to get his school robes.
Stepping into the shop he noted the smell similar to the lavender candle Petunia kept in the upstairs bath. Except it didn't smell as artificial or overwhelming, it was a soft and fresh scent that encouraged him to take a deep breath as he ventured further into the store.
The walls seemed to clash with themselves, looking more like the wizarding version a tacky van boutique that loved leopard and pink fuzz a bit too much. Then again he'd never been that interested in fashion, who was he to judge.
He was ushered into the back to get measurements by a woman wearing a bright purple dress suit and whose hair was about a fourth of her overall height- several large peacock feathers sticking out from behind. It was strange, but he thought she made it work.
“I'll be right back- now you boys behave”? The woman snarked with a small smile before hurrying off into another room.
Harry blinked, a bit lost until a voice caught his attention.
"You must be going to Hogwarts, yes”?
Standing next to him, he was a bit embarrassed he hadn't noticed the other boy before. He stood just an inch or so taller than him, silvery white hair perfectly combed with not even a single hair out of place, yet it lacked the plastic look of gel. Probably magic then.
But it was his eyes that caught his attention the most, they were such a pale blue they almost looked silver, but they held a glimmer of something he couldn't recognise.
“Well? Are you mute”? The boy tilted his head slightly.
“No sorry- and yes I am”
The boy hummed “Well my name is Draco Malfoy, Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient house of Malfoy- so yes its no surprise you are speechless by my mere presence”
Oh- so he's a prick.
How lovely-
“What house do you think you're going to be sorted into? I will surely be a Slytherin, just like my father, and his father before him and so on-
The Malfoys are as cunning and ambitious as they come- such things are necessary to acquire the level of success my family has achieved” Draco continued running his mouth, seeming to not need to breathe as he rambled on and on about the Malfoys and their accomplishments.
It took another five minutes before Ms.Malkins reentered the room and continued fitting his robes, another assistant taking care of Draco.
All the while the boy continued to talk, seemingly unaware of Harry's growing disdain and desire to leave the shop as soon as possible.
“- The Malfoy family bird is a peacock, such a noble bird- don't you agree Ms.Malkins”?
The woman with her peacock feather hair just nodded and muttered a few compliments Harry turned out as she shortened the hem of his robe.
“My father has an entire colony of rare Albino peacocks from Sri Lanka that were a courting gift from my mother, they were crossbred from the Muggle species and their feathers shine like silver- its very fitting for such a majestic creature made even more beautiful under the Malfoys care”
Sri Lanka- Harry had read that in a book before, it was part of India. Not that he knew much else about India, he'd been five and asked Petunia only for her to spout out some words he didn't understand. But he'd been called the same words by neighbors when they didnt know he could hear.
Then again- magical crossbred peacocks sounded more fascinating than anything else Draco had talked about, maybe he could lead the conversation a little. He turned to face Draco and opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a loud gasp.
“Oh my god what in merlin's name is wrong with your face”!? Draco looked horrified and any words in Harry's mouth quickly died on his tongue- instead it tasted like acid.
“It's a scar-” he said matter of factly, unsure of how else he was meant to respond.
Draco just nodded mutely, taking a moment to recover. But before he could begin chattering again, Madam declared he was finished and Harry happily thanked her and hopped off the small platform.
“Wait- you never told me your name” Draco called out, getting an annoyed glare from the assistant as he pulled away from her floating shears.
Harry set his money on the counter and turned to look at him “You never asked” and he turned heel and left the shop.
If anyone tried taking Harry out of this store before he was ready he would go out kicking and screaming and use every bit of sad ( and apparently famous) orphan privileges.
Flourish and Blotts was filled with more books than his library back home, each title more exciting then the next.
He ignored one shopkeeper that kept complaining about losing a stack of “The Invisible Book of Invisibility” but Harry was even more confident than before that Wizards might just be a little bit mad.
Intro to Apparition, Teleportation for newbies
Wizarding Law: Navigating the Labyrinth
The History of Goblin Rebellions
Witch Weekly's guide to love potions
Just a handful of titles that caught his eye, he grabbed a copy about goblin rebellions and determined he would ask Dripfang for more information later. He knew history books were written by the winners, and by the crude art of goblins with spears holding decapitated heads, he imagined the goblins didn't win.
He'd gathered all the school books he would need. Noting a small wall covered in pasted papers that showed the texts for the other 6 years of Hogwarts.
Harry double checked his galleons left, as well with his key he was confident he had more than enough. Besides who knew the next time he'd be allowed in a place like this?
About half way through shopping one of the owners ended up coming over to help Harry. Seemingly just as excited as Mr.Tot had been. She introduced herself as Ms.Warntin a "former Ravenclaw"
He gave her an odd look and Ms.Warntin quickly scurried off and came back with "Hogwarts- An extended history" and "Guide to Hogwarts Houses"
She helped him sort through his books, recommending a few others and scrunching up her nose at some. She didn't talk down to any Dripfang recommended and even seemed impressed with the choices so Harry trusted her judgment.
In the end Harry got his school textbooks, as well as the textbooks for second and third year students. All of the books Dripfang recommended and a few more on Goblin culture and one called "Wix Worldwide''. Then just about a dozen more that interested him.
As well Ms.Warntin taught him how he could order library catalogs and order books to be owled into the school instead of him needing to wait for a chance to stop by.
Harry eagerly agreed, making note of a few more books he wanted to check out after he'd made some headway into his current collection.
"Ya all set Harry"? Hagrid stuck his head through the doorframe, startling one worker while Ms.Warntin scolded him for almost knocking down one of the book stacks that traveled up the ceiling.
Hagrid looked sheepish but beamed when Harry moved his trunk by his side "Mmhm- I'm all set, now just for my wand right"!
Ms.Warntin's eyes turned soft "Ohh- I remember my first time don't you Hagrid, hopefully the old coot doesn't startle him too much"
Harry raised a brow but Hagrid gave a joyful laugh and shook his head "Ah he's a Potter- hell be alright I reckon"
They said their goodbyes and Harry was dragged to the final store called "Ollivanders Wand shop" the wooden sign seemingly withered away with time.
That time being since 382 B.C
That is… wow.
"Ain't no one better to get ya wand- course I'm too big to fit so ya go on in and I'll see ya on the other side" Hagrid pat his back and ushered him towards the doorway.
Harry hesitated, glancing back before steeling his shoulders and pushing open the door. The inside was rather- quaint compared to what he was expecting.
He walked up to the desk and reached forward, having to push on the tip of his toes to touch the small bell hanging in the air.
The bell chime ran out and was quickly followed by the sound of wheels, he looked up and came face to face with a man on a ladder.
"Why-I was wondering when I'd seen you Mr.Potter" He quickly climbed down but didn't approach him further, instead he turned to a shelf filled with boxes and began scanning them over.
"I am Ollivander of course- oh I remember getting your parents their first wands- yes yes for Lily ten and a smidge more long, very swishy, Willow wood with unicorn hair, strong and stable as herself"
He reached out to one box but then pulled away as if it burned him "No no that won't do-" he turned heel and went to the other side of the room "And your father, eleven inches and mahogany with a dragon heart core, very strong and very very pliable that one- excellent for transfiguration"
Ollivander picked up boxes left and right, but every box was met with an upturned nose or a shake of his head. He paused at one box and examined it closely, his eyes softened just a tad as he ran his fingers across the dark blue case "Oh yes and ebony wood- ten inches, Phoenix feather, and quite rigid- then again fitting for a boy like that" he glanced at Harry and then shook his head and put the box back, quickly stepping to another shelf.
Harry stood awkwardly to the side, he'd come to accept wizards were mad- but this man took the cake so to say. But Hagrid had insisted there was no one better- and he didn't want to risk this man's backlash should he try to leave.
“Ah ha- here we go”! Olivander pulled one box, uncapping it and holding it out to Harry “Twelve inches, Alder wood- with a unicorn core”
Harry looked up at the man's almost creepily bright blue eyes, he was given an encouraging nod as he picked up the wand. “Well- give it a flick”
He obeyed, and immediately regretted it. An entire wall of cases that looked like filing cabinets blew out and papers scattered everywhere. Had- did he really do that?
Ollivander plucked the wand from his hand and placed it back in the box “Apparently not that one-” He put the box on his desk and whisked around, climbing on yet another ladder and handing one down.
Harry tried again, both with a bit more excitement and hesitance. This time he managed to explode a vase of black roses sitting on the counter. Olivander made a strained sound and quickly took the wand back “No no- most definitely not”
Five more wands
Then ten, then twenty.
Harry had mentally lost count around fifty six, and yet with every failed attempt Ollivander only seemed to grow both more weary and more excited.
Maybe he just had a thing for flattering shop owners.
Ollivander huffed, scratching his head as Harry managed to demolish yet another shelf of his shop, just after setting his chair on fire that is. “Well- I do have an option that might be worth exploring” he seemed to mutter mostly to himself.
He quickly climbed the shelf once more, but then lifted over the bannister and disappeared out of sight somewhere in the back. Harry was just about ready to be over and done with the whole mess- but he knew it was important he stayed.
“No rushing perfection” is what Petunia always used to say when Dudley would whine about her doing his hair longer than ten minutes.
Ollivander returned so suddenly Harry almost flinched, but just barely managed to keep his composure in front of the man. “Here we are- this wand here was a gift from a friend, I try to keep a few not made by myself in stock in the case of difficult clients such as yourself” though the way he said it didn't sound upset.
This wand wasn't held in a shoe box like case, it was wooden and there were no ribbons or labels. It was a plain black box that looked similar to a long casket. Carefully he undid the silver latch on the side and opened the casket- and there it was.
A beautiful wand sat in the box, a plain light wood grain with just a slight curve. It was long, one of the longest ones yet- and a beautiful fitted handle. It was a dark black, with gold swirls trailing up the crevices that looked like lightning.
He picked up the wand and he almost gasped feeling the thrumming in his chest explode- but it didn't hurt. No no it felt like coming home it was like a part of him had been restored he hadn't known was missing.
Harry looked up and Ollivander was staring at him with wide eyes, a bright smile taking up a good portion of his face “Marvelous my boy… simply marvelous”
“Is- is that normal”? Harry asked, though his voice sounded strained even to himself.
“The wand chooses the wizard- though i'll admit it's been a long time since ive had such an intense bonding before my very eyes”
Ollivander tapped the end of the wand with his finger “This one here, as I said, was made by a friend- I only work in Unicorn hair, Dragon heart string, and Phoenix feathers- but this”?
He smiled even brighter than before “Fourteen inches, made of Beech wood- you must be a very wise young man- but as I said the most interesting, this one is made with horned serpent core, more common in America- but it appears it was fate such a wand made its way to you Mr.Potter”
Harry looked down at the wand, running his fingers along the wood grain patterning “What does horned serpent core do”? He definitely needed to order a book on wand lore, but if it was an American style surely it would be harder to find a book.
Ollivander nodded and clasped the box shut, bringing it around to the counter “Horned Serpent core is a wonderfully powerful core, its sensitive to Parseltongues wouldn't you know- it's the language of snakes, makes sense when it comes from a snake after all, buzzes when it's spoken of course hasn't been a speaker around here in many a moons as far as this old coot knows”
“Perhaps the most fascinating thing is its ability to warn its user of danger- last kid I told that called it ‘spidey sense’ merlin knows why- but they seemed to find the comparison funny”
Harry hid a small snort, though it definitely did help him understand what he meant. “Now what-”?
“Seven galleons please, I have to set a trace on your wand- isn't a requirement in America so that one doesn't have it pre assigned, then you're right as rain”!
Ollivander set the case on the counter and opened up what looked to be an ancient brass cash register.
Harry pulled out his coin bag and counted out the seven galleons, but right as he went to hand it over his core seized up.
Ollivander looked up in shock and held a hand out, instantly his core relaxed just a bit.
"How curious…"
Harry looked up at him, wand in one hand and his other hand clutched against his chest.
Ollivander turned heel to the aisle right behind him and hurried over, grabbing yet another box on the shelf and returning.
"It seems- you are more curious a case than I thought Mr.Potter" he opened up the box and offered out the wand.
"But I thought this was mine" he looked down to the wand in his hand.
"It is- but it's not uncommon for wix to have more than one, some stick with one wand their whole life- others can have a wand for every subject and season- though I for one think it's overkill"
Harry was still hesitant, but as he took the wand in his hand he felt the rush of magic surround him like a warm hug. Not as intense as the first one, but definitely not a rejection.
Ollivander leaned even closer "How curious…"
"What's so curious"? he couldn't help but snap, but the man seemed to take no offense.
"That there is an eleven inch holly, with a Phoenix feather core- very picky choosers phoenix's are, but the most curious thing is the very Phoenix that gave me that feather gave one another feather"
Ollivanders pleasant expression darkened "It was such a powerful wand, gave it to a boy just like you- very powerful even so young, but that boy…"
He lifted a hand and pointed at Harry's scar "That boy- and that wand, are responsible for the tragedy that stole away your mother and father, and gave you that scar"
Harry seized up, hand instinctively jerking up to his left side "I- so… this wand… belonged to um- you-know-who"
Ollivander nodded "It was a powerful wand for a powerful wizard. He was capable of many great things, such terrible terrible things- but great nonetheless"
The man seemed to snap out of his somber look and pushed both wand boxes closer "You are in for an eventful future Mr.Potter, it's not often I find a wix who has enough magic to sustain two wands so young"
Harry picked up the boxes and went to pull out another seven galleons only for Ollivander to shake his head "Consider it… a belated birthday gift"
He cleared his throat and gestured to the lighter wand "I will… refrain from putting a trace on your horned wand, I expect fate is not finished with you yet Mr.Potter, I just hope you use it well-"
"Thank you-" Harry muttered, placing his first wand into his trunk, though it pained him to release it. He held the second wand, examining it carefully before slipping it in his pocket "I wish you well"
Ollivander nodded, but stayed silent as Harry stepped out the door. The weight of the man's words weighed heavy on his chest- and his core seemed to thrum a more mellow buzz through his veins.
He plastered on a smile and happily showed off his new wand to Hagrid. The plastered turned genuine when Hagrid happily showed off a beautiful tawny colored owl- a birthday gift.
Harry preened at the owl and thanked him for his gift, as they walked let Hagrid take control of the conversation. His mind was elsewhere.
If Mr.Ollivander was right, Harry was in for a much bigger game than he realized.
Survival was key.