Chapter Text
24 July 1991
The owl had just landed on the small parapet. She had in her beak a letter with a green ink text:
Mr. H. Potter
The roof
Wyndham's Theatre
Charing Cross Road
She was searching for the boy to whom the letter was addressed with her black eyes. A few minutes later she dropped the letter and flew away. At that moment a very small and skinny boy woke up and got out of the small space under the parapet; he folded the dirty blanket and dropped it in a bag.
This boy had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, sad bright green eyes, and on his forehead a very thin scar shaped like a bolt of lightning. Those eyes that some could have called beautiful were alert, but that morning this small letter on the ground didn’t catch their attention. Harry was moving with the rapidity of those who are used to living on the street, without a sound or a hesitation he had packed all the things and had hidden them under the parapet, and under a minute he had started to climb down the wall of the theatre. It was 6:02 am, so he had less than thirty minutes before the garbage collectors picked up the trash. He often started by the theatre trash which was always full after a representation night, if it were not enough he would have enough time to search maybe half of Charing Cross Road before it all got away.
On a normal day, Harry would do some errands all over London. After five years on the street, he had learned (some would say the hard way) who would in fact pay him and who would call the cops, probably hoping that this young boy would be better with the authorities. The problem was that Harry didn’t trust adults and even less authorities, he had been on his own too long to believe that it was kindness in the eyes of people who looked at him.
Sadly, that day would be one of the worst of his short life, of course, the reason behind that was that he didn’t remember the first six years of his life at the Dursleys. For him he was born the day that Vernon Dursley had dropped him in a London park hoping that someone would bring him to the hospital, he had lost his temper once again and had hit the lad until the happy light in those green eyes couldn’t shine anymore. It was his right, the boy was a nuisance and a parasite who had lived at their house for too long. He had never let him get out of the house except at night and now however no one could trace him back to them and he was glad. However, all of that wasn’t in the mind of Harry that night when he was walking in the street. He had a good day, he had eaten enough and he had made 12 pounds that were now in his pocket. If only he hadn’t turned right, he wouldn’t have seen those boys attack this young girl and he could have gone back on his roof. Sadly he had turned right, saw the aggression, and decided to intervene. And now with broken glass and leg and so much internal damage he couldn’t breeze without pain he was slowly crawling towards his roof. The ascension of the back wall took him almost an hour and when he hid under the parapet, he was convinced that it was probably his last night on earth.
31 July 1991
A week later, Harry Potter was buried. Under the letter fortunately, in the week that had passed he had received more than a hundred letters dropped on the small parapet. He was tired, more tired than he had ever been but he was alive, he had not been awake a lot but enough to drink a small amount of water. And now he was hungry, but when he saw the sheer amount of letters he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. He took one in his hand and after reading the green ink text asked himself if those letters were destined for him, he then realized that he had no idea of his name, in his life before he was the freak or boy and then he was a different name each day to be sure that no one remembers him the next day, he had always congratulated himself on his capacity to always be forgotten as if he had never been there. However even if he had no clue if yes or no he was this Harry that the letters were destined to, he was sure that he was the only individual that was living on this roof. So he opened the letter and 3 parchments dropped on his knees.
When he read the letter he couldn’t stop smiling, those letters were so clearly a joke that it was hard to take the following text seriously.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
However, when he picked up the second parchment his smile vanished, his eyes took a green death color and his jet-black hairs started to become electric, they were dressing on his head and then behind them anyone looking could have seen over his forehead a curiously shaped red cut, like a bolt of lightning and that day that scar was always moving on his forehead. Indeed he had read the name of his nightmare, the name that he kept hearing when he closed his eyes and went to sleep.
Dear Mr and Mrs Dursley,
As I mentioned in my last letter, Harry will start school on the 1st of September. I persuade Minerva not to show up at your house as I am sure you have already talked with Harry about his story and his family. However, to help you buy his school supplies I have asked Rubeus Hagrid to meet you at the Leaky Cauldron on the 1st of August and to guide you on this journey that I am sure you will appreciate.
Yours sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster
So, he was indeed Harry Potter. The next thought inside his head was a profound hate for this Dumbledore man, what kind of people could leave a child in that kind of place? What kind of monster you could be, he was probably worth even more than the Dursleys. But now he knew his name, at least that part was good. It was the first time in his life that he had been able to know that fact, the Dursleys had never let him go to school, they had hidden him in the cupboard and no one ever came for him. He had learned to read the newspaper in the bin he had found and the old lady who lived under the bridge had been kind enough to teach him to write. However, he didn’t believe it would be enough to survive in school. But the weirdest thing in all that was that he was two blocks away from the Leaky Cauldron and he had always liked the place, feeling he was a bit safer there. He had never eaten or drunk anything there nor found work but he had been able to sneak inside and hide himself near the fire during the winter hardness. At that moment his stomach made a low growl, and he decided to go searching for food or even treat himself to a cheap meal thanks to the money he had won the previous day. However, when he arrived in the street and took the first paper in the bin his jaw dropped. It was the 31st of July, he had slept for 7 days, no wonder he was this famished.
1 August 1991
He hadn’t slept all night, it was hard for him to believe those letters, he had opened almost half of them, and despite a crazy list of products that he could not find anywhere he knew of, there was nothing else. He had tried his hardest to just put the troubles away from his mind but it was too much of a coincidence to bear. So he had decided that he would go to the Leaky Cauldron and stay hidden. If he decided that indeed it was not a trap from anybody, maybe he would show himself.
A few minutes later he was passing the door, and he decided to sit by the fire, he believed that no one would look to someone just beside the fire, in case he had still pulled down his hood, his hairs were hiding half on his face and the luminosity just beside the fire was very very low, he was almost in the shadow. He always could almost disappear when he was in trouble and today he was stressed by the whole situation. He had waited for almost 3 hours when Hagrid entered, even if he didn't know who he was, between the barman saying hey to him and the massive persona he knew immediately that it was the kind of man that could be sent to catch him and bring him to wherever they wanted him and that would not do it for him. So carefully he tried to get out quickly, but the giant was already between him and the door. The next idea was to go further in the bar and hope that he would not be found. He walked through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a dustbin and a few weeds. Damn it, he was trapped. He started to feel trapped, he couldn't quite catch his breath. He had to climb the wall, he had been in an orphanage for a few days and he would never go back, even if it was better than the other alternative. He had climbed halfway to the height of the wall when suddenly it moved, he lost his grip and dropped onto the floor. When he looked up what he saw was not possible. He was in front of a huge road with so many people in weird clothes, his first thought was to believe he was on a movie set, but he couldn't find even one camera. He saw a small alley just to his right and he ran for it, hoping that no one would see or catch him. After more or less an hour with nothing but tranquility in his small corner of a street, Harry was only now starting to find his calm. After pinching himself twelve times he was now sure that he was not in a dream. People were using magic, there was no other explanation. Some were making objects fly without cords or tricks, they were all wearing robes or other inexplicable pieces of clothing, and clearly, he could not understand a lot of concepts in their conversation, like potions, magizoology, transfiguration, or Muggles. After observing for quite some time two things were clear, he had found a way to enter another world and a lot of things he had done in his life were finally clear. How he had survived so much, how he could climb a wall like no other, how he healed so quickly. He was a wizard!
The same day
It was bad, it was really bad. The Dursleys hadn’t shown up at the Leaky Cauldron and now Minerva was going to bother him again. He shouldn’t have told her he was going to ask Harry to come on the first of August. Why Petunia hadn’t brought the child, he had no idea. He was convinced that she was terrified by him and should not question a direct order he gave her. Ho, she was taking the stairs.
- Where is he, Albus? Asked McGonagall with an angry look in her eyes.
- You told me you had it under control, that Hagrid would take him to buy his things, and give him his ticket for the Express. Where is he? What did you do to lose him? I had told you not to lose him, you should have given him to your kind. She was practically shooting now.
- Keep your calm now Minerva, he has received his letters, I know it because I had them charmed before you sent them, we will just need to find him, it will not be very difficult. I have already asked Hagrid to go to the Dursleys to take him to us. Everything will be okay, you will see.
At that moment, an owl entered through the window. She put her leg forward and Dumbledore took the letter and started reading. Harry isn’t at the Dursleys and has not been for the past five years - I am a bit worried, I am coming back as fast as I can. Hagrid
- So now we have a problem, because I put a charm on the boy to be sure that no magic can be able to trace him, and I am pretty sure that he had not bought a wand for the time being, and no wand means no trace from the ministry. It is not good at all Minerva.
13 August 1991
For the past twelve days, Harry had come every day to Diagon Alley, he was discreet but he had started to believe it was his rightful place to be there, and today he had decided to go talk to a wizard. He needed to know how he could indeed go to Hogwarts on the 1st of September and where to find the money he would need to buy his school supplies (the pounds were not used here) and more importantly, the books that would give him the power he now wanted so much more than anything in his life. He had already chosen the person he would ask, she was an old witch who was serving tea in a small shop on a small street behind Diagon Alley. He entered the shop and walked straight forward towards her, and without letting her have the time to talk first he exclaimed.
- I am a Muggleborn and I want to change my money into galleons. Do you know where I need to go, please? (Harry had learned that he was a Muggleborn because he couldn’t believe that wizards could be related to the Dursleys, it was not possible at all, magic was beautiful and the Dursleys were monsters).
- I believe you're looking for Gringotts young man but you should not be alone with goblins, they are dangerous. Where are your parents?
- They are waiting for me in the Leaky Cauldrons, I am going to go find them right now, have a nice day. Bye!
So, he had indeed come to the right conclusion about the huge white building on Diagon Alley, it was indeed a bank and his next step on his journey. Gaining the courage to enter such a place was quite a challenge compared to the tea shop, but he had no choice; he needed the money. So he climbed the stairs, passed the two statues that magically guarded the place, and went through the doors. Three huge sets of doors later, he found himself in a hallway and walked in the direction of the first desk.
- Hello, sir
- Hello to you, young Mister Potter. We were wondering when you would arrive. We have been waiting for you. If you could follow me.
- Eh
- This way, Mister Potter.
Harry entered a smaller room, which could have been compared to an office if Harry had ever been in an office. But at that moment Harry was speechless, from all the weirdness he had discovered over the past two weeks it was the final blow. How the fuck, those creatures could know his name and why the hell did they want with him. But before he could ask anything, two other goblins entered the room and sat on the chairs in front of him. When Harry had joined them they started speaking again.
- Good morning, my name is Altor Greykeep and I am one of the economic advisors of his majesty the King. And in the name of the Goblin Nation, I want to welcome you back into our world. It has been too long since your family has been with us.
- My family?
- Yes, of course, we should have anticipated that the muggles you were living with would not have been a very good choice, Dumbledore doesn’t tend to learn from his mistakes.
- I haven’t been with those Muggles for the past five years if you must know.
- Oh? This is unexpected, but we should not be surprised by this. Mister Potter, do you know anything about your family, your history, or how the government works in our world?
- No, why?
- Because you represent something new, a catalyst. You probably don’t know but the goblin Nation of the High Islands, what you call Great Britain, believes that you represent at least three major families that are extinct in our world, and if it’s true you are the first fortune in the High Islands and probably in Celmore altogether!
- Celmore? Wait a minute, I have money in this bank?
- Of course, you have a lot of money. But we would love to ascertain how much exactly and then to open again your vaults.
- Why do you need my vaults open? And how are you going to be able to tell which ones are mine?
- Open vaults are profitable for us, we can gain power over the other goblin Nations like the North Clan in Celmore, what you would call Europe in modern Tong. Moreover, we can diversify your assets, a thing that has become quite difficult since the last war. And to be able to know with certainty which vaults are yours we just need a drop of blood.
And then before he could answer, one of the other goblins had seized his hand and drawn blood from his finger. The drop fell on a piece of parchment and the shape of a tree appeared on the parchment. First, in red ink, the title Lord of Houses Potter was writing itself on one of the branches, and at the same time a ring created itself around his ring finger on the left hand, then in orange ink the title of Lord of House Peverell wrote as well on another tree branch and a new ring appeared on the middle finger of the same hand. The goblins seemed very happy about all that and Harry could not take his eyes off the small drop of blood that was still writing that he was the Heir of the House of Black and then Lord of House Slytherin by conquest, and it was at that exact moment that the goblins were for the first time truly surprised by Harry.
- What does it mean?
- It means Lord Potter, that you are not only the richest wizard of Great Britain but probably one of the most influential men in this country. Or at least you will be when you can officially claim those titles. Be assured that until that time you have the complete Goblin Nation behind you if you need anything, and of course, we will create a complete review of your vaults, investments, and properties for you.
- Eh, as a matter of fact, I need money to buy my school things and maybe a place to sleep tonight.
Two hours later, Harry had been able to buy all of his things on the list except his wand and one of the Gringotts employees had confirmed that a chamber was waiting for him at the Leaky Cauldron under the name George Hatfischer for this night. He was now wearing a very simple robe, the cheapest he could have found. Even if goblins had been nicer than most adults in his life he still didn’t trust them and was very cautious with the money he had in his pockets. He was still grateful for them to have shown him how to make his rings disappear (because after trying for two minutes to remove them, he was sure that it was impossible) and to have offered him a small pouch with enough money to last him a full year at the speed he had used it that day. Even if this had not been always easy to speak to people and to be watch, he was kind of happy by how this day had turned out, but when he entered the last shop which was narrow and shabby with Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands, he felt like it was a place where he will not be able to hide his identity. A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as he stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single spindly chair and that was the last straw. He was terrified and decided to get out. The second he set foot outside, he ran. He ran so fast that he almost collided with the brick wall at the end of Diagon Alley. Only when he was in his room behind closed doors that Harry allowed himself to breathe again. So he had to find another wand maker, as if that was going to be easy.
31 August 1991
Let it be known that Albus Dumbledore wasn’t someone who usually got worked up. But that was the last straw, it had been a month. He had gone to the Dursleys and extracted all the information, this Vernon had almost killed the boy, he was probably dead as a matter of fact. He couldn't understand how this could have happened. However, he knew with certainty that he was alive, even if he couldn’t track him the letter had at least given him the opportunity to know that he was the one to open the letter. How the fuck the wizarding world would react when they would saw that their hero wasn't there? He had so much hope that at least Harry would come to the station the next day, and he could then arrange for him to buy all of his stuff. And of course, he will bring them to Olivander's shop for the wand with Fawkes feather to be bought, which was essential. As a matter of fact, he had decided that he would go himself to the train station tomorrow and take the boy with him, try to present the wizarding world his way, yes it was a very good idea indeed.
The same day
He had not been able to sleep for the last few days. Every time he closed his eyes he now saw a green lightning bolt. He had read some books about his life, and it was crazy for him to be able to believe that he was in books, a lot of them. He had learned about Lord Voldemort, about the war, and mostly about his parents. When he saw for the first time a picture of his dad all his doubts had vanished, he was the spitting image of him, except for the hair that he had very long and so of course flatter, his eyes, and his scars. It was hard not to cringe when he saw it now, his scar. So he had found a way to tie his hair that allowed them to cover it. Tomorrow he will be going to Hogwarts, he found a ticket in one of the letters. In his huge trunk he had put all his beautiful books (there were all second-hand books but what was inside was the beautiful part), he just couldn't wait to learn the different aspects of his world. But today would not be about books, trains, or even Hogwarts. Two days ago the goblins had agreed to bring him to another wand maker, of course, Harry knew it was only because they were very happy that after reading the summary of his assets he had decided to give Altor Greykeep full control of his account. He had read in “The Lords of High Islands’ position in the 20th century” that it was the typical way to trade with goblins, you could trust them in the question of money at a hundred percent, as long as you didn't sign anything with your magic you could not lose more than what you would win. In only a few days he had already won some money, and the goblins had proposed to him to reopen the different estate he now possessed. He had refused, he was scared that Dumbledore would learn about that. Since he had learned that Dumbledore had used some of his money and that he was the man responsible for his being left with the Dursleys, he was not only scared by the man but also felt profound anger toward him. He had seen the will of his parents, they had wanted him with Sirius Black, his godfather. That man was now in jail according to the goblins for betraying his parents, he had been having a hard time believing his parents could trust this man and that this man betrayed them, and the last will of the Potter was very cleared about the fact that Sirius was not the secret keeper, he had no clue was that meant but still. After careful examination, he had realised that he had had no trial whatsoever and decided to ask the goblins he now trusted very much (they were not typical adults, it's funny how the mind can find some way to counteract itself) to look into that.
He was ready to open a new book when someone knocked on the door.
- Mr. George Hatfischer, I am your goblin liaison, they sent me to bring you to a wand maker.
- Yes one moment please.
When Harry opened the door, he saw a young man with long red hair and a very nice smile.
- Hello, I am Mr. William Weasley, I had been believing that you would have been a bit older, but it doesn't matter. Our portkey is leaving in a few minutes. If you could put your hand on this suitcase, there, thank you.
A few moments later Harry was in a different country, and he had acquired a magnificent wand. It was one of a kind, a creation of Gregorovitch. The wood came from a sycamore struck by lightning and the core was crystallised ink, it was 12 inches long and it had cost him a small fortune, but he was so happy about it. No wand like that had ever been made, the creator had guaranteed him, it was only a test but when the first thirty-five Wands hadn't worked for Harry he had begun to try every Wand in his workshop. Now Harry was returning to England, with a holster around his forearm, and inside was a beautiful wand matte black with deep blue runes carved on it. He was for the first time in almost all his life truly happy, sadly the sentiment would not have lasted very long.
1 September 1991
It didn't exist! He was now sure that the tickets were fake, so he couldn't find the train. He had searched for the last 2 hours, thankfully he had taken 4 hours in advance just to be sure to be on this bloody train. But now he couldn't make sense of all of that. Where was the fucking train? And then he felt it, the same feeling of power that's inside of Olivander's shop. But even more powerful, it was too much for his brain it couldn't comprehend the situation. Nobody should be this powerful, it felt against nature. There was no doubt in his mind. That was the person responsible for his previous life, the one who was clearly trying to control his life. ALBUS DUMBLEDORE. He wanted to run, but then he couldn't go to Hogwarts, that was unbelievable. And then he realized that he would have to support this presence during all his studies. It seemed impossible. But he had to go to Hogwarts, it was now his dream, his reason to go on. After some time, he started to move again, in the direction of the power, slowly but surely, he was hoping that Dumbledore would be standing beside the entry. And then he saw him, he was a nice-looking old man, with a big smile, the strangest robe he had ever seen and he was radiating sympathy and kindness. And then he realized that it was not exactly true, it was a kind of spell, some trick. He looked more sympathetic than anyone else but it was not the same effect. He was clearly waiting, probably for him after consideration. He started to search for a door, or an opening but Dumbledore was just waiting by the barrier between platforms nine and ten. He couldn't find a way to get out of this situation, in two hours the train would leave and if Dumbledore was still there then Harry would be too.
The same day in the same place at the same moment
Harry was not inside the station, he had checked when he had arrived, and now since he was in front of the gate, Harry would not arrive in the magical world without him knowing about it. It was a good plan, a solid one even. And with his little trick, he was sure that no one could not trust him right now, he was happy to have created that little spell. It was very useful to make everyone believe he was kind and not dangerous. He had made good use of it during all those years in order to be kept at the top by everyone in the magical world.
There were now only thirty minutes until the departure of the train. Oh, a magical child was approaching, maybe it was him. His thoughts were quickly disapproved when he realized it was a girl, he smiled at her and let her go through the gate. It was not possible, he couldn't believe that Harry had not come, where was he? How had he survived without adults in the Muggle world? He had searched for a long time and found a kid, probably Harry, who was in an orphanage for almost a week but then he had disappeared, and no way to find him again. It was a huge mess. He had to find a way to stop the protection around him, and he had to do it very quickly, before the paper of tomorrow when the world would realize without a doubt that their savior had disappeared because of him. So it was decided, he needed to break the spell, and quickly. He turned on himself and vanished.
A few hours later
Harry was on the train, no one had seen him, he was now sitting at the back of the train, in a small compartment with some older students, at the beginning they had tried to talk to him but he had not responded and started to read a book, one of the older had declared that they had a Ravenclaw inside the compartment and everybody had laughed. But he didn't care, he just couldn't believe his luck, Dumbledore had vanished only five minutes before the train departure, and Harry had barely time to run through the barrier between platforms nine and ten like he had seen people do, and he had arrived in front of the Hogwarts Express. And now he was inside it, it was incredible.
He was suddenly awakened by one of the older students; he had probably been asleep.
- We are arriving, you should put our robe on, and prepare to descend, and there, it is your book, you let it fall over.
- Thank you.
At that moment, a voice echoed through the train: We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.
Harry's stomach lurched with nerves. He had barely enough time to put his robe on and take his trunk when the train came to a stop. When he put his foot on the platform he heard, 'Firs`-years! Firs'`-years over here! All right there.
Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads. And at that moment, Harry realized that he would not escape, coming to Hogwarts was a mistake, too many people would be looking after him to be sure that he did what had to be done, and to send him to an orphanage at the end of the year. It was too much of a risk. But then he heard C’mon, follow me – any more firs’-years? Mind yer step, now! Firs’-years follow me!
Slipping and stumbling, everybody followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path and so he decided to follow, the attraction for magic was too great to refuse. It was so dark on either side that Harry thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much.
- Yeh’ll get yer firs’ sight o’ Hogwarts in a sec, Hagrid called over his shoulder, jus’ round this bend here.
There was a loud ‘Oooooh!’. The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.
- No more’n four to a boat! Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry went inside one, still making itself very small and invisible, and even in the magical world it seemed to work.
- Everyone in? Shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself, Right then – FORWARD!
And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.
- Heads down! Yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy which hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.
They clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid’s lamp, coming out at last on to smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.
They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door. Hagrid raised his gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door and after that all was hell.