Void-Touched 2
Harry looked around the street, his eyes wide. He could see strange shops everywhere. An apothecary, a bookstore, a pet store that apparently sold everything from kneazles (whatever they were) to owls, and more. Following behind McGonagall, he listened as she explained to him what goblins were.
"They aren't dangerous?" Harry asked cautiously.
"As long as you're polite, no. Don't try to attack them, however," the woman said firmly. "That would be dangerous." As they entered the building, she walked up to the front desk and waited. When the goblin finally looked up, she said, "Good day. I'm here with Harry Potter to inquire about his accounts. He doesn't have a key, so will need to be tested against the Potter lifestone."
The goblin's brow rose, "Of course, Professor McGonagall. I do hope that's Mr Potter." As he spoke, the goblin gestured and spoke to another goblin in a strange language. After a few moments, the teller said, "Follow Griphook, he'll take you to be tested."
As they followed the goblin, Harry asked McGonagall curiously, "What's a lifestone?"
"It's a magical crystal that has absorbed the blood of your family for generations. It will glow when you touch it if you're a Potter. If not, it'll remain dark." She chuckled, "And we would be in a lot of trouble." After a moment, she added, "It'll also magically absorb a few droplets of blood when you touch it."
"Doesn't that mean that some other Potter could come and claim to be me?" Harry asked curiously.
"Technically, but in such a situation, they can use the stone to determine who you are, and in the event your blood wasn't added at birth, who your parents are. Your father will have introduced your mother to the stone when they married; its magic can determine parentage," McGonagall said. "It's very interesting magic, developed long ago by Salazar Slytherin, it's said."
"Salazar Slytherin?" Harry asked.
"One of the four founders of Hogwarts," the woman answered as they came to a large set of vault doors.
Griphook pointed, "Please approach the door and touch the stone. If you're who you say you are, the stone will glow and the door open."
Harry walked to the door and touched the crystal set into the centre of the metal. It began to glow with a red-white light, and the door opened. Harry glanced back and the goblin nodded. "I'll have a key to your trust vault created. You may take items from the family vault, but no funds until you come of age."
"How much money is in here?" Harry asked in shock, staring at the mounds of gold.
"A little over six million galleons. With the current exchange rate, that's over one hundred and sixty million pounds," the goblin said as if it were nothing. "You're not the richest wizard in Britain, but you're very wealthy and in the top ten or so."
"... I'm rich." Harry stared, "And the Dursleys treated me like..." He trailed off and smirked. If they'd known, they might have treated him better. He paused. They might have also tried to take all of this, the boy mused. Harry wandered the area, ignoring the gold as he wasn't allowed to take any. He saw stands with weapons and tables with jewellery boxes and more. The boy lingered near the weapon racks, considering. He was a teenage boy after all. After a moment, he selected two sheathed knives with silver hilts from the rack and ran his finger curiously over one, before slipping both into his jacket pocket; one good thing about Dudley's overlarge clothing was both fit. Not finding anything else of immediate use, Harry turned and made his way out of the vault. "There were lots of things inside, but nothing I really need right now," he told McGonagall.
Griphook led them up and stopped by another vault with a smaller door. Another goblin stood nearby and offered Griphook a key. Accepting it, he turned to hand it to Harry, saying, "Here's your key. The other key has been disabled, so this is the only key to your trust vault." As he spoke, he gestured, "Get what money you need. Here is a pouch." He produced a small black bag, "It's space-expanded and weightless, so will hold more than you might expect."
Harry unlocked the door. There was far less money here, just a series of stacks of gold on a table. "How much is here?" he asked over his shoulder as he began to count a stack.
"There hasn't been any withdrawals other than this year's Hogwarts fees. So there should be one thousand galleons left," Griphook answered, even as the other goblin dashed off. "The trust vault will be replenished on your next birthday to bring it up to fifteen hundred galleons one more."
"Professor McGonagall, how much will my school things cost?" Harry asked after a moment.
"Including robes, books, and other materials, it will come to approximately seventy galleons. If you decide to purchase more than the required books or higher-quality clothing, it can cost more," the woman answered.
"All right." Slowly, Harry counted the golden galleons, slipping them into the bag in stacks of ten. Ten, twenty... He stopped when he got to five hundred, pocketing the bag and his vault key in an inner pocket of his jacket. "Griphook, can I convert galleons to pounds?" Harry walked out of the vault, watching the door close behind him.
"You can," the goblin answered. "One galleon is presently worth twenty-six pounds and seven pence."
"Nice," Harry said as he looked at McGonagall, "What now, ma'am?"
"Well, after you convert your money, we will go to Bagg's Bags. In spite of the name, it sells all sorts of storage items, including furniture." Suiting words to action, they left the bank after Harry converted twenty galleons to pounds, and approached the shop. "Traditionally, Hogwarts students have a large trunk for clothing, books, and the like. Some of the wealthier students like ones that have been enchanted. That's up to you, though if you enjoy reading, I do suggest purchasing one with at least two compartments. It's a little more expensive, but you can afford it," the Professor told him.
"Two compartments? You mean split in the middle?" Harry asked curiously.
"No, I mean an enchanted trunk. It's like having two trunks in one," McGonagall explained. She led him to a trunk on display and pointed. "See how large it is? Close it and slide the latch to the second position and open the trunk."
Harry did so and saw a new compartment. "Cor, that's amazing!" he muttered. "All right, I know what I want," He said, moving down the trunks, considering. He settled for a four-compartment trunk made of rich, dark grey walnut wood. He flagged down one of the staff, thinking. "Is there a way to add security to this, so I'm the only one that can open it? And what other enchantments can it have?" He remembered how often Dudley would rifle through his things. "I'd like the best security it can have, within reason."
"All of my enchanted trunks come with both feather-light and shrinking charms. As for security, I could add a blood lock enchantment?" the man offered. "The first time you touch the latch, it will sample your blood. Then, you'll be the only one who can open it. You can later add others the same way, you channel a bit of your magic into the latch and the next person who touches it can also open or close the trunk. It will add ten galleons to the price."
"How hard is it to break into the trunk otherwise? You know, by a hammer or some sort of spell?" Harry asked. Paranoid? Him? No, he was just used to Dudley. Beside him, McGonagall was frowning. She didn't like the implications of his questions.
"The trunk is heavily reinforced. It would take a great deal of effort to break into it," the man answered.
"All right, I'll take this one then, blood locked," Harry told the man. "I'll also take this bag," he added, selecting a dark grey book bag, "The sign says it's 'space expanded and feather-light', so I can probably carry a lot of books between classes." Soon, he paid the man and shrunk the trunk, carrying it with him in his bag. "This is so cool, ma'am," Harry said enthusiastically. "You can shrink it and carry it around. I could carry all of my things all the time!"
"Hopefully, you won't have to," McGonagall told him with a sigh. Soon, they were purchasing the rest of his things, from potion materials to a telescope for astronomy class to robes from Madame Malkin's. They took some time at Malkin's, as McGonagall made sure he bought extra shirts, pants, and other clothing to replace some of the execrable clothing he received from Dudley. She also had him buy a pair of shoes and a pair of walking boots. Each time they purchased things, McGonagall shrunk the packages down and Harry stored them in his new bag.
Harry spent a great deal of time in the bookstore, purchasing a great deal of extra books. McGonagall suggested a few that would help him learn about the wizarding world, and he added more on top of that. He heard the woman say dryly, "He's probably going to be a Ravenclaw." In response, he sent her an innocent look, even as he added more books to the pile at the register.
Soon, the only thing left was his wand. Leading him into a store called Ollivander's, Harry saw a strange, silver-eyed man talking to a pair of girls his age, each with long black hair, beside which was a woman who was obviously their mother. McGonagall murmured to him, "We can wait for them to finish."
Digging through his bag, Harry pulled out one of the books he'd kept to read, and waited patiently with the stern woman. It took more than a half-hour, but eventually, both girls had their wands and they began to make their way out, one girl offering him a smile, the other a nod as they left.
"Ah, Mr Potter. I was expecting you," the silver-eyed man said. "I well remember your parents..." About to say more, McGonagall cleared her throat, and he sighed at her even as Harry shut his book and slid it into his bag. "Let's begin then. How about this one?" He began to provide wands for him, sometimes letting him hold them, sometimes pulling them away after Harry had barely touched them. McGongall stood near the door, watching this with amusement.
"I wonder," he said after what had to be over a hundred wands. He pulled a wand box from one of the cabinets and opened it, offering it to Harry, "Holly with phoenix feather..."
When Harry touched the wand, it exploded! "I'm sorry, sir!" Harry began a bit fearfully, only to be interrupted.
"It happens, young man, don't worry. Such reactions are rare, but to be expected from time to time. We'll find you a match, don't you worry," Ollivander assured him.
More wands were produced. Harry was beginning to wonder whether he'd be able to use a wand at all. Yet again, Ollivander produced another wand from the back, saying, "Alder wood with dragon heartstring, nine inches long! I originally made this as an experiment, note the intricate carvings." When Harry touched the wand, a shower of silver and red sparks erupted from the wand, and Ollivander clapped, "There we are! You were a difficult customer to match; it was fascinating, Mr Potter. That will be seven galleons."
"Oh, good," Harry said in relief as he produced the galleons. He slid the wand into the black leather case Ollivander produced and put it into his bag. He murmured to McGonagall as they left, "I was worried that I wouldn't find a wand."
"Everyone finds a wand, Mr Potter. Some simply take longer to do so. I admit that was one of the longest I've seen. I have seen longer, however," the Professor assured him. "We are done with our shopping. Now, it's time to speak to a friend of mine. Shall we go to the Leaky Cauldron? You can eat something while I contact her. Just keep your cap on, so you aren't spotted. As I said, people will recognize you otherwise. We can talk about that after we meet my associate."
"Yes, ma'am," Harry agreed.
HPHPHPHPHP
Harry had a quick lunch: a bacon, lettuce, tomato and cheese sandwich with some crisps on the side. He wrinkled his nose at the pumpkin juice provided, deciding he really didn't like the drink, but didn't want to waste it. By the time he finished eating, McGonagall was back. "My friend said she'd meet us here. I spoke to Tom, we have a room upstairs to meet in."
"All right," Harry said, finishing his crisps and rising to his feet. "After you, then."
Heading upstairs, McGonagall led him to one of the meeting rooms. Not long after, the door opened and a woman with reddish hair mixed with grey entered the room, "Hello, Minerva. You said you had something of importance to speak to me about? I'm honestly glad you called, it gets me away from paperwork for a time."
"Hello, Amelia," Minerva said to the other woman, "May I introduce Harry Potter," she said to her.
"Really," the woman said, "Harry Potter? It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Potter," the woman said, nodding politely at Harry.
"Hello, ma'am," Harry said as he pulled off his cap, running fingers through his hair.
"I received a letter from Mr Potter about his schooling, in which he mentioned he had no clue about magic and was hoping the letter we sent wasn't a joke," McGonagall began. "That worried me, as Albus had always said he was taken care of, happy, and he was dealing with him. So I went to see him personally."
Nodding her head, the red-haired woman, presumably named Amelia, gestured for her to continue.
"When I spoke to his aunt, Mrs Dursley, she insisted he was and would continue attending a muggle school. I told her that was impossible, as he was already enrolled in Hogwarts by his parents. She became abusive, referring to him as a freak. Eventually, he came out of his 'room', a small cupboard under the stairs. How long have you lived there, Harry?"
Harry fidgeted as attention was directed at him, "Uh...all my life? It's not so bad anymore, they haven't locked me in since I started going to Stonewall."
Even as he spoke, Amelia's face tightened. McGonagall nodded at his words, "She said that all he deserved was to sleep there, that they never wanted him, and told him to leave. I'm pretty sure they hit him." Both ladies looked at Harry, who looked down. When Minerva prompted gently, "Harry?"
"Yes. Whenever they thought I did something they didn't like such as doing well in school, or if Uncle Vernon had an issue at work. It wasn't so bad usually, just slaps or such. They didn't beat me more than once a month or so. I could handle it." Harry said this firmly.
"You shouldn't have to handle things like that, Harry," Minerva said with a sigh. To Amelia, she noted, "I know that normally I should have left him there and contacted you, but I was worried that with how his Aunt acted they might attack him. We need him to find another guardian, they are simply not suitable."
"You said that Albus kept telling you he was well cared for and happy, right?" Amelia asked Minerva. At the other woman's nod, the red-haired woman asked Harry, "Did they feed you well? And did you ever see an old man around, with a long beard and blue eyes? Did you talk to anyone like that?"
"I wasn't starved, but I wasn't really fed as well as I could have been," Harry admitted. "I usually got leftovers after everyone else ate, so sometimes I got a fair bit, sometimes almost nothing." Minerva looked murderous at this, "And no, I've never seen or talked to anyone like that."
"Okay," Amelia mused. "His current guardians are definitely insufficient. I will drop in over there just to be sure for paperwork sake. Where was he staying? The person who was supposed to check in on him and explain the magical world did not do so. The question is who becomes his guardian now?" She considered, "I'll have to look to see who his closest relative is. With the Potters being an old family, there has to be a magical family he could stay with. The question is finding one who's safe for him."
"He was staying at Number Four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. From what James told me, Euphemia was originally a Diggory. They're good people. I know Lily's parents died in a car accident," Minerva supplied after a moment's consideration.
"Oh, that would work," Amelia said after a moment, "With his mother's sister not suitable and his grandparents on that side gone, the Diggorys would probably be the closest family."
Harry couldn't help it; he asked, "Wait, I have other family, and was still placed with the Dursleys?" He frowned, "Why the hell would this Dumbledore do that?"
"I don't know," Minerva said with a sigh. "What's even worse is whenever I asked about you, he said you were happy and healthy. I'm rather upset with Albus, right now."
Amelia glanced at her watch, then nodded, "I still have time, today. I will go to Privet Drive and look around. Then I'll speak to Amos. Between us, we'll have things handled by tomorrow. Can Harry stay with you tonight, Minerva?"
"Of course," the woman agreed. "I have more than enough room."
"Good," Amelia said with a sigh. She looked at Harry, "I'm sorry, Mr Potter, that you had to deal with this. We really failed you."
Harry shrugged, "Honestly, it doesn't sound like your fault. It sounds like you trusted this Albus to take care of me, and he failed, either purposely or simply through not paying attention."
"Do you really think he did so purposely?" Minerva asked.
"Well, I can say that the Dursleys really didn't treat me well, and I did mention it to teachers. Some said they'd do something about it, but they never did, like they forgot about it," Harry explained. "Once I could see, but multiple times? It makes me wonder if someone did something." Growing up with the Dursleys means Harry is very cynical at times.
McGonagall glanced at Amelia, a frown on her features. "I'm going to take him home, so you can check on his relatives."
Amelia nodded in agreement, "I'll see you soon, Harry." She left the room, shutting the door firmly behind her.
"Put on your hat, Harry," McGonagall ordered, "We'll take the floo. A floo is basically a magical way of travelling by fireplace. You throw floo powder into the flames and say where you're going. The flames turn green and you step through. You have to say where you're going clearly, or you can end up leaving through another fireplace." After this explanation, the professor led him downstairs and to the fireplace. "Take my hand," she told him and then did as she directed, stating quietly but firmly, "McGonagall House, Scotland." Harry felt himself whirling through a green haze and then fell on his face on the other side.
He found himself on a hardwood floor, in a rather stately looking sitting room. "Welcome to my home, Harry. I have so much I need to tell you about," McGonagall said with a sigh. "Let's get to it, shall we?"