Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

“Well, you made a good run of it this time, kid,” said a female voice from behind Harry. He blinked in confusion at the noise, looking around to find himself not in the Forbidden Forest, but instead in a rather well appointed and large office. There was a comfortable sitting area in front of him, but as he turned towards the voice, he could see an immense wooden desk with a chair in front of it. To one side and behind the desk were huge book cases, filled with large tomes with names he didn’t even recognize what language they were written in. On the right hand side of the desk was a single large filing cabinet. For a brief moment, his mind registered that he hadn’t seen a door or window on any of the walls as he turned, before his eyes settled on the woman behind the desk.

She was an older woman, at least compared to him, he’d guess somewhere in her thirties perhaps. Her blonde hair reminded him vaguely of Luna, being that same pale shade. Her eyes were the bluest he’d ever seen, and her face perfectly symmetrical in a way that seemed almost unnatural. She was wearing what appeared to be a smart business outfit, and judging by the size of her chair in comparison, was not a very large woman at all. Confused at where he was and who she might be, Harry eloquently expressed the wide range of emotions he was feeling as he said, “Ummmm…?” in a vaguely questioning tone.

With a sigh, the woman shook her head, “Explaining is always the worst, because you never remember,” she said with a sadness to her voice. “Hello again, Harry James Potter. I’m Alora,” and she pointed to a small brass placard on her desk which did indeed indicate ‘Alora’ upon it. “I’m your assigned case manager. To put it in terms you’re familiar with, I am your guardian angel as well as your grim reaper, and I’m afraid that since you’re here, this visit isn’t social sweetie.”

Harry could feel his knees go weak, and found himself sitting down rather abruptly in the chair in front of Lora’s desk, never realizing that she had waved her hand and moved him in front of it, anticipating his collapse. As the words ‘grim reaper’ swirled through his mind, flashes of memory came back. Talking to his parents and the Marauders, walking on into the forest. The flash of green light that had ended his existence. “I died,” he said quietly, “I remember now. Tom. He killed me with Avada Kedavra, in the forest.”

Alora nodded solemnly, “I’m sorry, Harry,” she said quietly, “and I can’t send you back again. You’ve had your maximum interventions already,” she said quietly, a tear trickling down her cheek. “I want to, really I do. But my power is being stripped already because I failed to guardian you to your destiny,” she reached up, dashing the tear from her cheek. “Seven times. It’s all we’re allowed, it’s supposed to always be enough. But that meddling old codger misinterpreted the Prophecy, and mishandled it. And it just cost us too much. I’m so sorry, Harry.”

Harry wasn’t entirely sure what she meant, but he’d never handled a girl crying well, and so stammered out, “Hey… It’s okay, it’s not your fault, Miss Alora,” in an attempt to comfort her. A silence stretched a few moments, before he quietly asked, “so what happens now? What will happen…you know, there?”

She sighed quietly, straightening in her seat and wiping her eyes again. “It’s not great news,” she admitted quietly. “You did enough that the prophecy is still in play and valid, and Neville Longbottom kills Nagini and then Riddle. But the price is high, it’s a true pyrrhic victory. Of those battling at Hogwarts, less than a dozen survive, mostly injured who had already been evacuated through the hospital wing to St. Mungos early in the battle. Seeing nearly all the defenders dead or dying, Neville gives his life to take down Riddle, using a Longbottom family spell that compresses and detonates his magical core in the magical equivalent of a nuclear explosion. Hogwarts is destroyed, along with everyone still present, other than Hagrid who is saved by the sacrifice of Grawp.”

“My.. my friends?” Harry asks quietly, stunned. “Ron and Hermione? Ginny?”

Alora just shakes her head, eyes glowing as she stared off past Harry as though looking, “I’m sorry. Of those you were close to, the only one to survive is Hagrid, who is maimed by the battle horribly, and who’s spirit is broken. He won’t live more than a handful of years before his body gives up. Wizarding Britain is exposed to the Mundane world, but the Royal Family has always been ‘read in’ as has the Prime Minister. They’re able to move to conceal the remnants, but the result is to banish the few remaining Wizards from Britain entirely. When some of the remaining purebloods retaliate against the Royal Family for attempting to force them from Britain, the statute of secrecy is entirely destroyed on international news. The mundane leadership of the world, fearing uprisings against them in their own countries, launch aggressive countermeasures against the Magical world. Countermeasures that have been in place almost since the Statute of Secrecy went into effect, and which have been updated and refined for centuries.”

She sighs, “Millions die in a matter of weeks. Embittered squibs have been being recruited aggressively for centuries, formed into elite anti-magical units since they know about and can see the magic around them. Once the magical bloodlines are all but wiped out, they start hunting the magical creatures. The Goblins seal their caves and retreat deep into the earth. The loss of magic in the world is so severe that it can’t be corrected, leading to catastrophic destruction of the natural world. Children born with magical gifts are either enslaved to governments or killed at the first signs of accidental magic. Within two generations the world is nothing like what it once was. Scattered remnants of the magical world undertake a great working, driving the mundane off of the island of Bermuda. It was once linked to Atlantis and has strong magical leylines, which are tapped to transport and then hide the entire island out in the mid Atlantic, near where Atlantis once was. There aren’t enough of them to need more space than that.”

The tears are back in her eyes and Harry can tell, the way she’s looking off into space, that she’s watching what is playing out in the future. “The world suffers for almost two centuries. Petty wars drag in allies, plunging the world into two more world wars. The death toll climbs through the millions and into the billions. The world doesn’t fall into a nuclear winter, but that’s primarily because the super powers are the first to fall, torn apart from within by rioting and unrest. But even so, dozens of cities are wiped out and left ruined and uninhabitable. Eventually though, there are few enough humans left and enough problems surviving, that they stop trying to kill one another and start focusing on survival. Things begin to crawl forward again, eventually.”

Shaking her head she considers for a long few moments, before looking towards Harry and making a waving motion with her hand. It’s only when he realizes that there’s a handkerchief in his hand, that he becomes aware of the tears pouring down his own cheeks at the horrors visited upon the world. “All because I failed?” he asks in a trembling, pain filled voice.

“No, Harry…just. No. You fought with everything you had, and gave every measure of yourself. You might could have studied a bit harder, prepared a bit more. But in the end, it’s doubtful that would have made enough of a change. Not with how deeply things were stacked against you.”

“But why?!” Harry asked, “You can see forward, you had to know I’d fail!? So why leave it to me?”

“Because you weren’t supposed to fail. You weren’t ever supposed to have been alone, or had your spirit crushed and your health ruined. ‘The road to hell is paved with good intentions’, there’s a reason no one knows who said it first, because the sentiment is part of your racial consciousness. Humanity was given the knowledge in the very beginning, and even still, time and again fail to understand and apply it. Albus Dumbledore, meaning to try and ‘help’ you be the most able that you could be to be victorious, utterly destroyed any chance of that being the outcome.”

Sighing, she shook her head, “There’s no point in this though, it’s not your burden any longer, Harry,” she said quietly, “you were so very brave, and even if it didn’t work out, I want you to know that I was proud to have been your Angel. All that is left, is to help you move on… You have people waiting for you, that have been waiting a very long time to hold their son again,” she said quietly, motioning to an archway that hadn’t been there before. Bemusedly, Harry thought that it very much resembled the archway in the Department of Mysteries, though instead of the shifting curtain that Sirius had fallen through, Harry could see a beautiful field in springtime, with a cottage sitting on it.

Looking back to Alora, he frowned, “What about you though?” he asked, receiving a small, sad smile and a shake of her head.

“It’s not your responsibility,” she assured, “A guardian angel’s spirit is entirely dedicated to the destiny of their charge, when they take up guardianship.” She raised her hand, and Harry could see how already she was becoming translucent, as though fading away. “I just wish there was more that I could do, Harry. Your destiny was beautiful, and I can’t get you to it. I’m so very sorry.”

“But that’s not right! It’s my fault, not yours, you shouldn’t.. You can’t..” Harry could feel his shoulders shaking with impotent fury and grief. He couldn’t help but feel the love and dedication of the being that had guardianed him his whole life, and as best he could tell had given her own spirit to save him from death time and again. Seven lives…so he’d died seven times. As he thought about it, his anger built, flowing over him like a cloak. His hand tightened, gripping down, “I don’t..” he growled out, teeth clenched against a pain building in him. Hands now both clenched into fists. Holding tightly the object in each. “I REFUSE TO ACCEPT THIS!” he declared, as a sudden furious storm around him made his cloak whip and pop in the wind.

Cloak? When did his father’s cloak get around his shoulders? He could feel the polished perfection of a stone in his left hand, the smooth grip of a wand in his right. The light from the doorway faded, though the door remained, as a rasping laugh came from behind him. He could see Alora’s eyes widen, as she looked up, and as he spun around he could see why. A towering figure in a black cloak stood behind him, features hidden entirely in the shadow of the hood. It looked not unlike a Dementor, though as it leaned forward he could make out the skeletal head beneath the cloak. “It would seem, Alora, that there’s still some fight left in this one after all,” the figure intoned.

Death. He knew instantly the being before him, even if he didn’t know how he ‘knew’ rather than being simply ‘guessing’ based on stories and appearance.

“And what…young Destined…would you give to change the fate of those you care about?”

Harry trembled, feeling the oppressive weight of the presence upon him as the question focused on him. But he drew in his courage and squared his shoulders, “Whatever it took,” he declared. “You already know I’d give my life for them,” he declared, to which the figure just nodded.

“True.. True. But it is easier to die for someone you love, than it is to live for them, young Destined.”

A second figure appeared beside the first, this one pale, with wispy hair that seemed to float about her and eyes that though they were completely white, seemed to Harry to see everything at once somehow. Again, something deep inside told him who was before him. Fate.

“The belief is sufficient,” she said quietly, her voice seeming strangely harmonized, as though more than one voice spoke in perfect unison. “It is not prophecy, but the belief in the old tales is enough through the ages to give power to what you intend.” Harry realized she was not, though looking directly at him, speaking to him. Death’s nod confirmed it, before it’s gaze looked to Alora.

“Daughter,” he intoned, “you have failed in your duty. You know well the cost of that,” his voice seemed sad somehow. He waved his hand then, almost dismissively, and suddenly Alora looked more…solid. Harry realized he could no longer see the outlines of things through her, and glancing to her hand saw that it was fully restored. “There can only be one Guardian for a Destined though, and as such, your services are required.” And though Harry couldn’t see the beings face, he could nearly hear the smile in it’s voice.

“But.. How?” Alora asked, seemingly as confused as Harry felt.

It was Fate who answered, “Belief has power. The stronger the belief, the greater the power.” Death raised one hand, and Harry shuddered involuntarily from seeing the skeletal hand as it raised. The cloak slipped from his shoulders, even as the wand and stone vanished from his hands. “The gifts of Death to the three brothers,” Fate continued, “were united in ownership when the Destined drew forth the stone from the place it had been concealed.”

“They claim it would make one my ‘Master’,” Death scoffed, “and while that might be ludicrous in the extreme. There is sufficient belief and ambiguity, that it might be… Interpreted.” The gaze turned to Harry, focused upon him entirely, “what Boon would the ‘Master of Death’ ask of his humble servant,” it asked in wry tone.

“I want to go back and fulfill my Destiny!” Harry declared, eyes blazing and back held straight.

There was a pregnant pause, long moments that seemed to draw out into eternity. They might have, in that strange place and time. Until finally, Death and Fate spoke in perfect unison. “Granted,” before they both vanished from the room.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Alora was utterly stunned, and for several moments she was too shocked to say anything at all, before finally she let out a whoop of excitement and dashed around the desk. Practically tackling Harry in a hug, Harry realized she was indeed quite short, even compared to his own lack of height.

“That’s AMAZING! The greater powers NEVER directly intervene Harry!” she laughed excitedly as she stepped back, nearly dancing. “Ohhh this is going to be so good!” she rushed back to her desk, even as the book that was open on it started to glow and pages started to turn. She looked down at it in absolute wonder before she started to cackle in glee.

“You must have really impressed Death!” she rattled on, as she started grabbing pieces of paper and writing out rapid notes. As she finished each, she’d toss them up into the air where they simply vanished. “Almost no one has enough willpower to actually manifest magic in the afterlife!”

For his part, Harry was confused, but hope was starting to swell in him again. They had agreed. So it seemed, he was going to be going back. “Umm…excuse me. How do I keep from just dying again, immediately? I mean..I’m surrounded by Death Eater’s and Riddle?”

A figure appeared, ever so briefly to lay a large sheet of parchment on Alora’s desk, “From Mothers,” the woman robed in white said quietly before vanishing again.

Alora, snatching up the parchment was wide eyed for a moment, “Youuuuu’re….not going back to the Battle of Hogwarts,” she said in shock. “It’s seems Fate has decided that since this is your last chance, and I do mean very last chance, they’re going to be stacking the deck a bit.”

Another parchment bearing figure appeared, this one male, but dressed…strangely. Harry considered a moment, thinking the figure wouldn’t be out of place on a beach, dressed in what appeared to be a t-shirt and shorts, complete with flipflops. He laid the parchment on the desk before tossing a wink Harry’s way and vanishing again. Alora’s eyes were once again wide, “Orrrr. Maybe they’re stacking the deck a lot. I knew Death was pissed at Riddle, but wow.”

“Ummm, who was that?” Harry asked, feeling almost a familiarity to the being.

“He’s one of the agents of Chaos, who apparently is rather fond of you and your familial connections,” the woman explained.

Over the course of the next few minutes, over a dozen beings entered the office, laying parchments on the desk of Alora, who was looking more and more overwhelmed by the moment.

“Death and Fate, Chaos and Order, Healing, War, Love, Loyalty, Justice, Fertility…” and at that one she’d glanced his way with an amused smirk that made Harry blush, “Wisdom, Revenge, Prophecy.” She frowned slightly then as she reached for a scrap of parchment, scribbled a note and tossed it into the air. A few moments later, another figure appeared, this one dressed in what Harry would call ‘business casual’ attire. “Iggy, if I try and put all of these into effect he’ll either go brain dead or pop the minute we send him back,” she complained as she thrust the documents towards the new figure.

‘Iggy’ laughed as he took the parchments and sat down, thumbing through them and glancing at each in turn. “Welllll, that’s new,” he glanced towards Harry, motioning him over. “So this is the Destined that is causing all the uproar? Rumor is that Death is on a warpath.”

“Yeah, he actually manifested power in the office and refused to go to the fields,” Alora explained, looking at Harry fondly as he sat back down. “So Death’s calling in favors and some others are jumping on the band wagon to affect things. Which is great, because it means there’s more power behind what we’re going to do, but at the same time if we just do it all at once, it will be messy. Plus, I mean, some of those I don’t think are even possible as they’re mutually exclusive or would invalidate portions of other peoples destinies that are prerequisite.”

“I see what you mean,” said Iggy, “as much as I’d say it would be a huge help to him, invalidating the events of October 31^st, 1981 or somehow sending his parents back would completely unravel the prophecy at the core of why any of this can happen, since he’d no longer be Destined and so wouldn’t be subject to our intervention at all.” He glanced at Harry, as though seeming to realize something, “Oh! Terribly sorry, I’m Ignatiallianus, but I go by ‘Iggy’ amongst friends, since the other is rather a mouth full for informal conversation. I’ll be consulting on your case with Alora from here on out,” he declared.

“Ummm. Oh. Okay, nice to meet you I suppose, Mr. Iggy,” Harry said, his voice sounding as confused as he felt.

“Please, just Iggy. Alora, how much have you told him of what is ‘supposed’ to happen?” he asked then.

“Very little, I mean, he was supposed to be going to his reward, so there was no point in it. I mean, I’ve told him before, but because of the lockout he never remembers the previous conversations.”

“Wait, what!? What do you mean you’ve told me before?” Harry asked, shocked by the implications.

Alora sighed quietly and then nodded, “You’ve died six other times before this, Harry. Before you were supposed to die, which is supposed to be well into your hundreds. You were destined to kill Tom Riddle and send his soul to the fate that awaits it, then to marry one of your soulmates, and to wield your political influences and popularity to help push through significant reforms to Wizarding Britain to help modernize it. Wizarding Britain is so backwards due to the influences of the pureblood nobility that it is almost guaranteed to rupture the Statute of Secrecy in a catastrophic fashion if things aren’t beginning to correct before the new millennia. So many progressives have been killed in the constant wars that Wizarding Britain has been engulfed in that the nation has stagnated. It’s a powder keg, and it either has to be fixed or go up in flames.”

“But I don’t understand, why can’t I remember if you’ve told me all of this?” to which Alora sighed.

“Because each time you’ve died and been sent back, the laws of the world reassert themselves and you lose the memory of what happened in the previous version of your life. It’s usually not a big deal, the threat is past and you continue on your way oblivious to the intervention of your guardian angel, other than maybe realizing someone must have been looking out for you that you got out of whatever it was alive.”

Iggy hmmmed, “That’s not going to be the case this time though, special dispensation contract,” he said, pulling one of the sheets of parchment out and passing it back to Alora, “he’s going back with full memories intact.” He considered, “I have an idea, I’ll be right back, I need to consult a couple of people in my department,” before he vanished, along with the chair he’d been sitting on and the documents he’d been holding.

“Umm. What department is he?” Harry asked quietly.

“Oh, Iggy? He’s a servant of Innovation…or Progress. Mortals sometimes call it different things. The greater powers are more ‘concepts’, the figures you saw earlier were a sort of projection of the will of the concept involved. Mortals, especially humans, tend to want to give them names and try to box them in. But they’re all really just parts of the Will of Creation, just like I am really a part of the Will of Death. But, in separating the parts and granting them autonomy, thought and will of their own, we become beings.”

“So when you were vanishing before, were you just being pulled back into Death?” asked Harry.

“Exactly, the consciousness of Alora would have ceased to exist, but the essence would have been reabsorbed and probably separated again to create a new Guardian.”

“What did you mean by ‘soulmates’,” Harry asked quietly, uncertain if he really wanted to know.

With a snort Alora looked at him, annoyance evident in her eyes, “Yet another area where good intentioned busybodies should have left well enough alone!” She sighed, “Dumbledore was right about how important love was for you to be able to win Harry, but he was entirely out of his depth in understanding it. After the disastrous first love in his life, he was too afraid of the pain of it to take the risk again and so missed out on finding someone who he’d truly love. So many people do, especially in the time you were alive. They either give up and settle for something imperfect, or they give up entirely and avoid it altogether.” She shook her head, “and there really are so many that are matches for each of you. There were four at Hogwarts with you, who would have been that completion that you needed. But Dumbledore, in his impatience and need to ‘help’, didn’t see that you and your best friend were falling in love. So he and Molly Weasley decided to ‘nudge’ things.”

“What!?” exclaimed Harry, shaking his head, “No! They wouldn’t do something like that?” but even as he said it, he knew it was a lie. Molly had told them herself, about the love potion that nudged her and Arthur to get together finally.

Alora nodded, “In the case of her and Arthur, she was right. They were in love and near perfect matches, but the Prewetts were wealthy and Arthur was too nervous to approach, considering his own humble background. And Harry, she truly does love you like a son, so when Dumbledore expressed his fear that without love you would be lost. Well, she thought she’d help you get over your shyness and come out of your shell, since she knew how much Ginny adored you.” Tapping her fingers on the desk she looked pensive for a moment before explaining, “Molly’s mother died when she was quite young, giving birth to her twin brothers Fabian and Gideon. She helped raise them, and they were still in school when her father died so for a time right after she and Arthur married, she was practically their only parent. When they were killed in the war, it changed her greatly. You saw her boggart, so you know what her greatest fear is. It’s why she had that clock made, too.”

“I don’t… I don’t even know what to feel about all of this,” Harry admitted quietly.

“It’s going to take time for you to sort out,” she said with a nod, “only you can decide what to do or how to feel. Albus Dumbledore told you that he knew what sort of life he was dooming you to, leaving you with your relatives. He didn’t know the extent, and his eternal optimism made him vastly underestimate how bad it would be, but he did know it was not a good choice. The only thing I can tell you that might be of comfort, Harry, is that neither of them manipulated you with malicious intent. Molly wanted a boy she loved like a son to find happiness and love, and the idea that he’d be officially part of the family just made it too irresistible for her to not ‘help’. Dumbledore originally wanted to keep you safe and away from influences that would try to turn you into something similar to Draco Malfoy, and took the accident of Hagrid talking about what happened and creating the myth of the ‘Boy Who Lived’ to try and create an environment of mystery and interest that he thought might help you in the struggles he foresaw for you. Then, when you gave him the diary and he came to understand your scar, he started making incredibly convoluted and borderline desperate plans to try and find a way for you to fulfill your destiny and yet still survive it. In his own way, the old man really did see you as the grandson he never had, he just made bad choices.”

She had her mouth open to continue, when Iggy suddenly reappeared in the room. There was no flash or noise, he simply was there where before he wasn’t. Sitting back down he nodded, “I talked it over with several colleagues, as well as the boss,” he grinned, “we know how we can cram almost all of it in without frying our young Destined’s brain out.” He threw Harry a wink, “I’m sure that part at least you’ll love, but I have a feeling you’re going to like the rest too. Tell me, Mr. Potter, have you ever tried a ‘Video Game’?”

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

It felt like hours had passed, Harry’s head was hurting, from the information overload of their discussions and having to make decision after decision.

“Okay then, so you’re going back to childhood, but you’re going back with the new ‘Destiny Interface’ that my department is designing,” Iggy began to summarize. “We’re going to use the magical discharge when you are sent back to flush Riddle’s soul piece out of your scar, and then the scar will act as the anchor for the interface. We’re sending you back all the way to early 1986, it’s the first point in the timeline where your magical core will have strengthened enough for it to be stable, and the farther back you go the more you can affect things. After that your quests are going to guide you,” he grinned, “I’ve got a surprise for you on that front in a minute once we’re all tidied up here. There will be a tutorial that will help you get to understand the interface. All of the various tweaks, gifts, boons and blessings that you’ve been granted have been folded into the interface, but you’ll have to make choices as you go. We were actually able to stretch some of them quite a ways beyond their original grant, because the potential was changed to be something you earned and chose to pursue through effort. It will, essentially, give you something similar to a role playing video game like you saw Dudley playing. Though I certainly hope you do better than he did! Your memories of a full lifetime would overwhelm you if they were all dumped back into your five year old self, so they’ll also be unlocked through the interface as you progress. In addition, depending on how you progress, you may be able to grant portions of the interface and its effects to those closest to you. The most notable effect would be upon those who have a soul connection with yourself, such as one of your soul mates, but even your true friends will have potential to gain from the system. Only a soul mate would be able to see the interface though. Any questions?”

“I think I understand,” Harry said quietly, “so…all of the plans you and the others have come up with to ‘fix’ things, are going to show up as ‘quest’s?”

“Exactly! Way easier than trying to plan it all out here and now, plus this will let us tweak things as you progress, since the moment you go back the world will begin to diverge from what you remember it to be.”

“Okay then, I think I’m good. So what’s the surprise?” to which both Iggy and Alora grinned.

“We are,” said a familiar voice, though one he hadn’t heard in far too long, from behind him.

Spinning around, he noted that the ‘afterlife’ seemed very fond of people appearing behind you as a fleeting thought before he jumped up from his chair and rushed towards the man who had spoken, “SIRIUS!” only to realize who was standing with him, and draw up short. “Mum.. Dad,” and rushed into their arms.

“Ouch…not even noticed,” Remus quipped with a wryly amused tone, drawing a choked laugh from where Harry was being hugged between his mother and father for the first time since he was a baby, feeling as Sirius and Remus hugged the small family.

Finally, his father spoke quietly, “Come on kiddo,” he said, sniffing slightly, “you’re gonna spend some time with us,” he said eagerly.

Alora smiled gently as she approached the group, “You cannot go back in time to a point when your parents lived, to alter their destiny. But that does not mean that you cannot grow up in their care,” she said quietly, waving a hand slightly.

The four adults, with a barely one year old Harry nestled in his mother’s arms, turned and headed back through the glowing archway into the field beyond, and to the little cottage nestled therein.

As the archway closed behind them, Alora looked to Iggy and smiled, “I always knew you were a softy,” she said with an amused look in her eyes.

Iggy shrugged slightly, “He still has a lot stacked against him Alora,” he said quietly, “every advantage we can give him still may not be enough against that monster. But we’ll do all we can, for both your sakes.”

Chapter Text

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Harry was awakened, as was so often the case, by the sound of his Aunt shouting at the door of his cupboard. As he sat up and looked around his little cupboard, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, moving to get up. He pushed the unlocked door open, stepping out into the kitchen as his Aunt continued. “Up you get boy,” the horse faced woman scolded as the door opened. “You’re late getting started on breakfast, and once that’s done you’ve the drive to shovel. I won’t have you making your Uncle late for work with your laziness,” she ordered.

“Yes Aunt Petunia,” he said obediently, knowing that shovel was likely to impact him if he didn’t do as told. He moved to the stove where he stepped up on the stool in front of it so he could see, beginning to fry the bacon for his relatives breakfasts.

As he moved the plates onto the table, hearing his Uncle and cousin coming down the stairs, he moved out into the garden to collect the shovel, before walking around to begin shoveling the drive. It had snowed last night, and the fresh powder crunched beneath his feet before he started to work to shovel the snow out of the driveway. Having neither coat or gloves, he was shivering within moments of starting, until by the time he went back in he had what was probably an unhealthy paleness to him and shivered from the chill. Sitting down at the table where a plate remained with a slice of toast and a half of a sausage, Harry began to eat. As he did, his Aunt returned, “Hurry up and eat, boy. I have to take Dudley into town to get Valentine’s cards for his classmates,” she informed him. “I expect you to make a start on the wash, while we are gone.”

“Yes Aunt Petunia,” he replied, finishing his breakfast and getting up, moving over to the sink and stepping up onto the stool there to wash the dish and glass that had held water, before putting them into the drying rack. As he heard his Aunt and cousin leaving, his forehead suddenly exploded into pain and he let out a little cry, before falling over unconscious right at the foot of the stairs.

Had he still been awake, he would have seen the black mist that escaped from his forehead with a strange wailing cry, before dissipating in a flash of bright golden light.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

It was only a few moments later, when Harry awoke. But as he did, it was no longer just the Harry who had been about to go get started on the laundry. “Well, that will certainly take getting used to,” Harry mused quietly, looking around to get his bearings.

He now had memories not just of his childhood, which up to this point had been exactly as it had been in the other set of memories he now had. Now though, he also remembered a much happier childhood, growing up in a cottage in a beautiful field, where his parents, his Godfather Sirius and Uncle Remus had raised him with all the love he had never had as a child before. Momentarily dizzy, his head swam as he felt a warmth from his forehead. Raising his hand, it came away with a trickle of blood, so he rushed into the bathroom to look.

Pulling the fringe aside, he could still see the scar that had always been there, only now instead of being an angry reddish hue of unhealed flesh, it was smooth and clean, with a sort of silvery golden sheen to it that made it look almost like some sort of strange jewelry.

As he looked at it, his vision unfocused a bit, as words began to fill his vision –

Begin Tutorial [Y/N]…

With a grin, Harry concentrated on the ‘Y’ for a moment, only for a new prompt to appear in his vision before drifting down and to the right hand side of his view.

Mandatory Quest Accepted – Tutorial!

Welcome! You have been chosen to alpha test the Destiny Interface! As the very first user to the Destiny Interface, your experiences will be greatly helpful in finding ways to improve the Destiny Interface for future users. The Destiny Interface has many components, each of which has it’s own help files available by concentrating on that component and thinking ‘Interface Help’.

Harry watched as the interface began to populate with components, a brief explanation of each component flashing up in his vision before it settled into place. His ‘Physical Health’ bar was self explanatory and colored red, just as he would expect, though he certainly didn’t like that it was halfway greyed out already. His ‘Magical Strength’ bar was a cheerful blue, settled just beneath his health bar at the top left of his vision. At the top right, a minimap appeared, along with the explanation that it would only show places that he had already explored. Beneath that was a ‘Current Quests’ area, which currently listed ‘Tutorial’ as the only entry.

The tutorial then guided him through accessing the ‘Character Sheet’ of the interface, where his attributes and skills were available, as well as his ‘Ability Tree’. The attributes were fairly easy to understand, with strength, agility, stamina, fortitude, charisma, intelligence, willpower, magical core, magical strength and fate. Looking into the magical attributes, it seemed as though ‘core’ was how much magical power he had that could be expended and ‘strength’ was how much he could use at once to cast a spell. Fate was another one that he tried to look into, but when he requested help on it all he received was ‘Information restricted at this time.’ Each stat had a value, then a second value in parenthesis, which seemed to be the ‘current’ value. As he was still growing, many of his stats were currently reduced, despite where they would be when he was fully mature.

The skills window was next, and looking through it he saw that there were already a number of skills he recognized from his mundane life, such as cooking and gardening, as well as a number of skills he thought might be there because he was ‘aware’ of them rather than having personally experienced them, such as ‘driving’ or ‘dancing’.

The ‘Ability Tree’ was what he was most excited for, and opening it up gave him access to an immense sprawl of interconnected boxes. Looking at the information, he could see that there was a circle in the center from which everything branched off. One of the branches, labelled ‘Mundane Perks’ had two options currently available – ‘Healthy Upbringing’ and ‘Excellent Education’. Looking at them, the ‘Healthy Upbringing’ perk appeared to be designed to correct the harmful effects of the Dursley’s neglect, while the ‘Excellent Education’ perk would grant him access to the knowledge gained through a high quality mundane education through ten years old. Glancing down at the bottom of his view, he could see that he currently had five points to spend, so held off for the moment to see what else was available.

There was a series of abilities, that had to be unlocked in order, that seemed to coincide with unlocking the memories he knew were sealed away. The first box had already been ‘purchased’ for free, labelled ‘Happy Childhood’ and seemed to be why he could remember being raised by his family in the strange ‘afterlife’ before he returned. The next box was labelled ‘Essentials’ after which were ‘1^st Year’ through ‘7^th Year’. Looking at some of the other branches of the abilities tree, he saw trees dealing with each type of magical education, such as Charms, Transfiguration or Potions, as well as the advanced subjects like Arithmancy, Runes and Enchanting.

A separate area of the tree seemed to deal with relationships and knowledge pertaining to other races, such as Goblins, House Elves and Centaurs. The ‘Wizarding Britain’ tree section was rather large, including unlocks for ‘Wizengamot Politics’, ‘Ministry of Magic’, ‘Wizarding Etiquette’ and ‘Noblesse Oblige’. Looking deeper into each of those, it seemed that Wizengamot Politics was focused on granting knowledge important to a seated Lord, while Ministry of Magic was a guide for the beurocracy of the wizarding government. Wizarding Etiquette dealt with how to behave in proper society, as well as the interplay between the houses of Wizarding Britain, while Noblesse Oblige seemed to have abilities and perks that would benefit those who owed fealty or loyalty to him.

There were also a number of ‘locked’ ability trees dealing with things that may or may not ever be relevant, such as ‘Animagus’ and ‘Alchemy’ trees, as well as ‘Lycanthropy’ and ‘Vampirism’, each of which required certain conditions before it would be applicable. A warning text on the Lycanthropy and Vampirism trees made it clear that the effects of the trees were meant to minimize the extensive drawbacks of those conditions, and that the user was strongly advised to avoid contracting either.

Looking at the help for the Ability Tree, it seemed that he was to be awarded one point to spend on the trees for each year of his life, as well as one point for each level he gained. In addition, certain quests or events might automatically unlock abilities on the ability tree. It also noted that there were abilities not accessible to view, that might be unlocked through his experiences.

After introducing the basic components of the interface, he was prompted to spend his ‘starting points’. Looking at his character sheet again, he frowned at how weak and fragile he was, but hesitated before putting points into his attributes. Going back into his Ability Tree, he read through ‘Healthy Upbringing’ again, before nodding and selecting it. The changes were instant and gratifying, as he grew. Since he was still standing in front of the mirror, he could see how his form filled out and grew almost a full two inches taller, looking more like a healthy five year old than a street urchin, despite his still ill fitting hand me down clothes. He grinned as the grey portion of his health bar faded and then filled with red instead, before going back to his attributes.

Now, instead of being clearly deficient, his attributes were more balanced with one another. He was a bit surprised to see that apparently his unhealthy childhood had stunted his potential in magical growth as well, though it was no longer having such an effect. The help on attributes had explained that ’10-12’ was an average range for adult humans.

Even so, he had points to spend. During his childhood with his family, Sirius, Remus and his Dad had wandered off one day and come back with a haul of various game systems and video games for them to play, as ‘Research’ of course, they had assured Lily. After all, Harry hadn’t actually gotten to play any of the games that he’d seen Dudley play, and knowing how they worked was going to be vital. They’d discussed various strategies, but since they didn’t yet have access to the actual Destiny Interface system to be sure of how it worked, they’d made rather generalized plans on how Harry should ‘build’ his character.

Looking over it, he quickly designated his points, it seemed that unlike ability points, he would only get points to spend on attributes when he levelled up, or from certain quests and events. On the other hand, the negative penalties applied by not being grown up would decrease with age. Thinking back to the plans he’d made with his family, he accepted being ‘average’ in his physically focused attributes. He needed access to more of his magic more quickly, so gambled on being able to squeeze a bit more out of his reduced stats even while young. Putting two points each into ‘Magical Core’ and ‘Magical Strength’, he decided to put the final point into ‘Charisma’ since he would need to be able to influence people sooner rather than later he suspected. As he mentally selected ‘confirm’ he gave a little ‘whoop’ of excitement when he saw that his gamble had paid off.

He briefly focused his attention on his ‘Magic Bar’ and saw it filling slowly back towards full, as it now could store more overall magic.

Opening his skills window, a prompt appeared that hadn’t been there when he was looking at the window during the tutorials explanation of the windows.

Importing skills from Unlocked Memory Shards, please wait……. Analyzing…….. Analysis Complete.

After a few moments, the prompt vanished again and his skill sheet filled out for him to see. There were literally hundreds of skills, from ‘Acting’ to ‘Zoology’, filled in on the page, many of which had ‘sub skills’ beneath them. Thankfully, there were several filtering options such as ‘Magical Only’ or ‘Mundane Only’, as well as ‘Learned’, ‘Recommended’, ‘Unlearned’ and ‘Ignored’. Opening one of the skills, Zoology, he quickly found the ‘Ignored’ checkbox and selected it. He then went through and thought ‘Ignore’ while focused on the label ‘Paleontology’ and it vanished from the list as well. He rapidly moved all of the advanced muggle sciences except for ‘Electricity’ and ‘Telecommunications’ into the ignore list, before shuffling a number of other purely mundane skills into that box as well. After noticing that he had been awarded twelve ranks in ‘Cooking’ he added it to the ignored list as well, since according to the info it would not stop him from gaining ranks or using a skill, merely hide it from the other display filters. He grinned, seeing that his ‘Flying – Broom’ and ‘Sports – Quidditch – Seeker’ skills were both already quite high from playing with his Family. A number of other skills had points in them, representing his experiences in both previous childhoods and up till now.

Each year granted two points to spend on skills, as well as four points to spend per level. In addition, skills were the most commonly affected portion of his character sheet by the experiences of his life as well as rewards from quests and events. Looking through the skills, he found the two he was looking for, and dumped half of his points into each skill – Persuasion and Perception. His family had reasoned that these should be his very first ‘investments’, as they would help him spot dangers in time to avoid them as well as talking his way out of situations and gaining allies and supporters.

With those points assigned, it was back once again to the Abilities Tree. Knowing he needed allies and support, and going still on the plan he and his family had worked out, he invested one point each into ‘Ministry of Magic’ and ‘Wizarding Etiquette’. As knowledge started to flood into him, he briefly looked towards the next boxes on those trees, before his gaze flicked back up to the glaringly named ‘Essentials’ from the Memories section. Selecting it and spending the fourth of his five points on it, his mind flooded with pieces and snippets of knowledge, many of them out of context, but all containing enough to give him directions to go. At the same time, his interface flashed with numerous ‘Quest’ and ‘Side Quest’ received messages as his quest log started to fill in rapidly.

Quest Received – A Sirius Problem

Your Godfather, Sirius Black, languishes in prison for crimes he didn’t commit! Find a way to free him!

Difficulty: High, Rewards: Unlock Party member – Sirius Black, Time to Complete: Unknown

Quest Received – Building A Better Rat Trap

The traitorous rat animagus, Peter Pettigrew, is hiding as the pet of the Weasley family. Find a way to expose him and bring him to justice!

Difficulty: High, Rewards: Unknown, Time to Complete: Unknown

Quest Received – Into the Alley

Diagon Alley is the center of Wizarding Britain, where you will find entrances to the Ministry of Magic, Gringott’s Bank and access to shopping for what you will need. Find a way to reach Diagon Alley!

Difficulty: Medium, Rewards: Access to Diagon Alley, Time to Complete: Before 11^th Birthday

Quest Received – A Friend to Depend On

Your most dependable friend and ally, Hermione Granger, is growing up alone and isolated. Find a way to reach her and begin your friendship early!

Difficulty: Medium, Rewards: Unlock Party Member – Hermione Granger, Time to Complete: Before September 1^st, 1991

Quest Received – Fur-en Aid

Your Uncle Remus has a ‘Furry Little Problem’, and is travelling abroad during the darkest time of his life. Find a way to reach him and bring him back where he belongs!

Difficulty: Medium, Rewards: Unlock Party Member – Remus Lupin, Time to Complete: Unknown

Quest Received – Jailbreak from Durzkaban

So long as you are confined to the prison of Durzkaban, with it’s jailer Vernon Dursley, you will never be able to reach your potential. Find a way to escape Durzkaban!

Difficulty: High, Rewards: Unknown, Time to Complete: Unknown

Quest Received – Anchors of the Enemy

Your immortal enemy, Tom Marvolo Riddle (Lord Voldemort), has created magical anchors to tie his spirit to the mortal world. Find and destroy these anchors so that he can be banished for once and all! (Anchors Destroyed – 1 of 7*) *Note: At this point in time, only six anchors exist, more information available in later Memory Shards.

Difficulty: Extreme, Rewards: Unknown, Time to Complete: Unknown

Side Quest – What’s Your Problem!?

While your relatives might not be the nicest of people, it seems to reach an extreme with regards to you. Is there more to the story of their hatred of Harry Potter?

Difficulty: Medium, Rewards: Unknown, Time to Complete: Unknown

Side Quest – Durzkaban Dungeon

Dungeon Available – Durzkaban! Boss – Warden Vernon Dursley!

Difficulty: Medium, Rewards: Loot and Experience, Time to Complete: 24 hrs

Side Quest – What You’re Owed

Hidden in Durzkaban Prison is something left for you by your mother, find it and claim what is yours!

Difficulty: Easy, Rewards: Mother’s Bequest, Time to Complete: 24 hrs

Side Quest – Who Watches the Watchwoman?

Arabella Figg has been placed in Little Whinging to watch you, and will report your movements to Albus Dumbledore. Find a way to keep her from giving you away!

Difficulty: Easy, Rewards: Unlock Ally – Arabella Figg, Time to Complete: Unknown

Side Quest – Are You Kitten Me?

Familiar’s are a strange magic, existing in the world from the moment their intended magical human is born, but always ‘young’ when they are found, whether it takes a day or decades. Find the kitten ‘Crookshanks’ for party member Hermione Granger.

Difficulty: Easy, Rewards: Familiar Upgrade – Hermione Granger, Time to Complete: Unknown

Side Quest – A Familiar Familiar

Familiar’s are a strange magic, existing in the world from the moment their intended magical human is born, but always ‘young’ when they are found, whether it takes a day or decades. Find the snowy owl ‘Hedwig’.

Difficulty: Medium, Rewards: Familiar Upgrade – Harry Potter, Time to Complete: Before September 1^st, 1991

Side Quest – Ministerial Mayhem

You need allies in important places, that you can trust. Amelia Bones will soon be head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and is Regent of the Bones Family. Make contact and convince her to be your ally!

Difficulty: Medium, Rewards: Unlock Alley – Amelia Bones, Time to Complete: Unknown

Side Quest – Friend in Need

Neville Longbottom is an orphan like you, his parents incapacitated in St. Mungo’s. You share enemies and your houses have been allies for generations. Find a way to reach your Godbrother, and help him to realize his potential earlier!

Difficulty: Medium, Rewards: Unlock Party Member – Neville Longbottom, Time to Complete: Before September 1^st, 1991

Side Quest – Book Burning?

The Boy Who Lived is a legend not just in Wizarding Britain, but worldwide. This legend is fed by the books and stories that are published about you, almost all of which are fictional, speculative or ridiculous. Take hold of your identity and make sure that what the world thinks they know of you is what you want it to be!

Difficulty: Hard, Rewards: Variable, Time to Complete: Before September 1^st, 1991

Side Quest – Hello World

You are one of the most well known and admired celebrities in the world, much less Wizarding Britain, and yet no one has ever written to you? Find out what’s up with your mail and make yourself known!

Difficulty: Hard, Rewards: Unknown, Time to Complete: Unknown

Blinking at the sheer volume of quests he’d just received, Harry quickly looked through them, before looking back to see that there were still more skills added to his sheet as a result of his selections so far. With only one point left to spend, he thought for a few moments before he selected ‘Goblin Relations’ from the list. He and his family suspected that getting on the good side of the Goblin’s early would be vital to making it possible for him to be successful.

Quest Received – Gobblin’ for Galleons

Gringotts Bank is the premier financial institute of Wizarding Britain, located in Diagon Alley. Make your way to Gringotts and discover what can be done to improve your situation!

Difficulty: High, Rewards: Unknown, Time to Complete: Unknown

As the new quest popped up, Harry smirked slightly, before looking over the help information for the Quest Journal. The ‘Difficulty’ rating of the quests seemed all over the place, as he wouldn’t have suspected trying to go to the bank to be particularly dangerous. Reading the info though, the interface clarified that the difficulty rating of quests was based upon not only the actual danger factor, but also how much of a risk towards Harry’s overall missions and goals the particular quest represented, and how difficult it would be with his current resources.

As he closed out of the information window, a new prompt appeared in his view –

Tutorial Part 1 Complete, Begin Tutorial Part 2!

As Harry blinked, a faint green glow caught his attention, and looking down he saw footprints on the floor that lead out of the bathroom. Following them out and through the kitchen, he ended up in the garden. Confused at first, he looked around, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do, when a number of things started to glow faintly in his vision.

Perception Check – Successful! Resources Discovered!

When you enter a new area, or an area you have been away from for at least one hour, you may take a moment to look around – for resources, valuables, clues or other items that might be of importance to you.

‘Huh’ thought Harry, as he read through the prompt and then dismissed it. Looking towards the various glowing points, he walked to the nearest and bent to pick up a stick that had fallen from the tree at Number 3 Privet Drive into the garden. Examining it, a pop up appeared in his vision identifying it as ‘Rosewood Stick, 14 inches, Crude – Wandmaking Material’ and Harry’s hand trembled with excitement. As he was looking at it, a new window opened in his view, showing an ‘Inventory’ panel. Following the short prompts, he moved the stick near the pocket of his pants and it vanished immediately, reappearing in his inventory window which he closed.

Crunching through the snow, he found pawprints near the fence and followed them to where a cat had apparently squeezed under a loose board to pass into the next yard. Three glowing hairs were collected and identified as ‘Kneazle Whiskers, 3, Crude – Wandmaking Material’. Excited now, he added these to his inventory before continuing his search. A glowing patch of dirt under the overhang of the garden shed drew his attention, and he went to examine it. Retrieving a trowel from the shed, he quickly turned the dirt up to find two bulbs identified as ‘Lily Bulbs – Use Unknown’ and was shocked, since his Aunt Petunia never seemed to plant lilies in the garden. It seemed though that that was the final ‘discovery’ for this part of the tutorial as footprints lead him back inside once more.

Crafting – Unlocked!

You have found materials and tools sufficient to attempt to craft a crude wand! Follow the onscreen prompts to attempt to craft your first wand!

Surprised but excited, Harry immediately moved over to the little cabinet where his Uncle kept his tools for around the house. Pulling out a saw and a quite nice electric drill, he set them on the kitchen table before grabbing a small, sharp knife. Then, following the instructions that appeared on the lower portion of his vision, he quickly cut and trimmed his rosewood stick. Using the drill to drill a hole through the center of the stick, he was amazed to see that somehow the drill bit managed to reach all the way through the core of the stick, returning to its regular length as he pulled it back out. Thankful that the drill hadn’t died from the small amount of magic he knew was being used, he carefully braided and then threaded the three kneazle whiskers into the stick. Finally, putting a saucer down on the table he crushed the lily bulbs before pouring the juice that had been released from them along the length of the stick and picking it up. Still wet, he pushed his magic slowly into it, using the dimming overhead light to help him keep it at a constant ‘pressure’ as a progress bar on the bottom of his field of view filled.

Success! You have crafted a crude wand! This Rosewood Wand is nine and a quarter inches long, with a core of braided kneazle whiskers. The use of the sap of a lily bulb has strengthened this crude wand’s affinity to you, making it more reliable in your hand!

Quest completed – Tutorial!

Reward: Crude Rosewood Wand – CRITICAL SUCCESS! Crude Rosewood Wand has been upgraded to Lily’s Rosewood Wand!

LEVEL UP! You Have Reached Level 1!

You have 4 unused Skill Points, you have 1 unused Ability Point!

Dungeon Unlocked – Durzkaban Prison!

Unlocked Feature – Party System

Unlocked Feature – Reputation System

Unlocked Feature - !ú�Ø�áÛG(iË

Harry blinked at that last one, looking confused before he opened the ‘Help’ info for it. What he saw made his eyes widen, before he started to laugh.

Heya Pup, congratulations on Level 1! They really ought not have let the Marauder’s near one of these ‘computer’ things to help with planning quests and guiding you! Especially not with Lily here and invested in helping us! Even though you’re ‘back’ in time already, we’re still here and watching over you, at least until the point where our destiny is changed at which point we won’t be accessible ‘here’ any more. It’s confusing, but your Mum and Dad will always be watching over you, like they always have been, even once we’re down there with you. In the meantime, we’re sneaking ‘Cheat Codes’ into the interface! I think Iggy and Alora are onto us, but helping to hide what’s going on from anyone that might try to stop us. To access the cheats, think ‘Up Up Down Down Left Right Left Right Bee Aye Bee Aye’ at the interface. I don’t get it, but Lily giggles like a fool every time she tries to explain it. We’ve only managed to sneak one in so far, but I think you’ll be able to guess what the code is! Good luck Harry, we believe you and we love you!

-Padfoot, Prongs, Moony and Lilyflower

Grinning slightly, Harry focused on repeating the strange code and the interface flickered slightly before a prompt popped up –

Messrs Moony, Padfoot, Prongs and Misses Lilyflower are Proud to Present – The Marauder’s Mischief Manager

Enter Passphrase . . .

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!” Harry said with a grin, causing the small prompt to vanish and be replaced by a message –

Feature Unlocked – Marauder’s Map

Concentrating briefly on the minimap on the top right of his vision, Harry brought up the full map interface, seeing that indeed there was now a tab available for ‘Marauder’s Map of Hogwarts’ and, opening it, Harry gasped to see that this map in his interface indeed worked exactly like the map that he had remembered in the ‘Essential Information’ he received. “Brilliant,” Harry said, grinning.

Chapter Text

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

With the starter quest completed and the cheat code enabled ‘Marauder’s Map’ closed again, it would be quite useful when he eventually went to Hogwarts, but for now, wasn’t something vital to his plans, Harry opened his quest log to review his situation. He had several ‘timed’ quests, though since a number of the quests listed a ‘time to complete’ that was ‘unknown’ he realized that in fact all of his quests might be timed. It seemed there were several that would be ‘failed’ if he didn’t accomplish them before his eleventh birthday. His current memories only extended through the day before his eleventh birthday in either his previous life or in the ‘Happy Childhood’ he’d lived with his family in the semi-afterlife. He knew from discussions with his family that on his eleventh birthday, his Hogwarts letter would arrive, so clearly that would be the trigger incident for significant changes and likely the breakover point into the memories of ‘1^st year’. Guessing that, he assumed that several of the quests would become defunct at that point, because he would have achieved them through the ‘normal’ course of events or they would no longer be possible.

Other quests though, seemed far more urgent. The ‘Durzkaban Dungeon’ and ‘What You’re Owed’ side quests both had timers that were ticking downward, now at just over twenty three and a quarter hours remaining to complete them. Since the ‘What You’re Owed’ suggested that it would be completed inside the ‘Durzkaban Dungeon’, it made sense that it would be tied to the timer for that quest. Curious about the dungeon, he tried opening the help file for the topic.

Reading through the information, Harry blinked and had to reread parts of it a couple of times, startled by some of the implications. He’d heard Iggy talking about one of the various boons being some sort of ‘immediate second chance’ system, and wondered if these dungeons were how they had determined to integrate that into the Destiny Interface. It seemed to imply that he could have a single attempt to reap ‘extra rewards’ and if he blew it, then he’d get kicked out and back into whatever was the normal situation.

Looking at his other quests, he thought about which ones were most important to do in what order. He needed to get away from Privet Drive as quickly as possible, but wasn’t sure which direction to go to accomplish that. Without an owl he had no way to contact anyone in the magical world, and he wasn’t sure where Hermione was to try and reach her. The only person he could reach that had ties to the magical world was, shockingly, Arabella Figg according to his quest. Apparently there was a way to get her on his side, but how?

Wandering around the house since he was alone there, he was pondering the question when he noticed a strange light coming from the crack at the bottom of the door into his cupboard. With wand in hand, he reached out and drew open the door and looked in, seeing instead of his cupboard a strange swirling vortex of multicolored light. As he looked at it, a label above it appeared, ‘Dungeon: Durzkaban – Recommended Level: 1’. So that answered the question of where the dungeon was.

He was sitting in a chair at the kitchen table, thinking about what to do next still, when the sound of his Uncle’s car pulling into the driveway made the decision for him. His Uncle wouldn’t be back this early in the day unless something had happened to interrupt his perfectly normal daily routine, and Harry had no doubt that whatever it was would be his fault. Hopping off of the chair, in three quick steps he was diving through the swirling lights and into the dungeon.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Harry landed, despite having dived through the strange portal of light, upon his feet. Instead of being in his cupboard though, he found himself instead in a small room, lit only by some lights coming through the barred window on the doorway. A small cot, his cot from his cupboard in fact, was in one corner of the room and manacles hung from the walls. The same swirling patch of light that he’d seen before was right above his cot, no doubt the ‘exit’ if he chose to give up on the dungeon.

Harry stopped to consider the new ability before pulling out his wand, looking closely at it. He turned it over in his hand, examining it curiously and admiring how his crude efforts at crafting had resulted in a rather finished looking wand. The snippets of memories from his ‘Essentials’ memories had given him more than a few examples, plus he’d seen his family using their own wands in his childhood, so he realized it was a bit on the short side. Childsized, he guessed. The sap from the lily bulbs had made a glossy finish and the rosewood stick had smoothed to a comfortable taper, the deep reds of the wood almost seeming to glow. As he was looking at it, a new window filled his vision.

He wasn’t sure what the Trace was, but thought he’d probably learn about it when he unlocked more memories. In the meantime, he noticed a ‘Skill Gained’ notification flash by on the side of his vision, telling him he’d learned the ‘Examine’ skill.

His thoughts were interrupted as a voice boomed through the doorway, though it sounded like it was far off yet. “BOY! I’m coming for you!” called his Uncle Vernon, sounding more sinister than Harry could ever remember him sounding. The voice filled him with a momentary panic, as he quickly started to look around, trying to think of a way out of the cell so he could try and hide or get away. Moving over to the doorway, he realized it was the height of his cupboard door, and there was a flap that lowered for a meal tray to be pushed through. Lowering it allowed him to peek out, but he couldn’t see much from so low. He used the fold down of the tray flap as a step to get up a bit higher and look through the barred window of the cell door, and looking down he could just barely make out the bar that was holding the door shut. It was a simple bolt latch, like what was on the outside of the cupboard. Reaching through, he could just barely reach it but not get enough of a group to pull on it.

Thinking quickly, and with the resourcefulness of a childhood playing pranks with his family, he undid the laces of his left shoe and pulled the string loose. Making a loop, he jumped back up onto his step and strained to reach out. It took a couple of tries, but he was able to get the loop around the bolt handle, lifting it up and then pulling it as best he could. It seemed to take forever, until finally there was a ‘click’ and a little flash across his vision stated ‘+50 xp’.

Jumping down again he pushed the door open, quickly relacing his shoe as fast as he could, reasoning that if he needed to run he would need it properly laced and secure. Wand in hand, and trying to put forward far more confidence than he actually felt, he pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped out into a dimly lit hallway. There were two doors on each side of the hall, matching the one he’d come from, and at the end of the stone  hallway was a staircase leading upwards. Not quite ready to risk going up the stairs, he started at the doorway directly across from his own instead. It was locked, but the bolt was easy to work from the outside and he pulled it open. Looking inside, the cell seemed empty at first, but his perception skill highlighted something in the corner. Moving over, he swept some dirt out of the way to find a strange silver coin. As soon as he picked it up, it vanished into his inventory, which updated to display ‘1 Sickle’ at the bottom as ‘Currency’.

“Awesome, I won’t have to worry about the Dursley’s stealing my money at least!” he grinned, looking around quickly but spotting nothing else of interest. He slipped back out and went to the next door, unbolting it quickly only to be surprised as the door was shoved open. Falling backwards, he tried to scramble to his feet as a large bulldog came out of the cell, growling ominously. The dog looked similar to Ripper, the beast Uncle Vernon’s sister so often brought with her, but not quite the same and a label over it said ‘Ripper Spawn’. Harry also noticed, absently, that the label was red. Looking closer, it didn’t quite look like a real dog, but rather some sort of demonic version thereof. Sharp spikey spines came off of it’s back and shoulders, while its eyes glowed a menacing fiery color.

As the dog lunged at him, snarling and snapping, he kicked out instinctively to try and keep it away. His foot connected, dealing only 2 points of damage but keeping the thing from connecting with its teeth. A front claw still managed to rake his leg though, scoring a deep scratch that knocked 5 points off of his own health bar. Not even thinking about it, he snapped his arm up in a flicking motion with his wand, just thinking about getting the creature away from him. As he did, the dog was lunging a second time, and his spell caught it in mid leap. ‘Instinctive Knockback Hex!’ flashed briefly on his vision before the dog went flipping end over end down the hallway, crashing against the edge of the door it had come out of. There was a sickening sort of ‘crunch’ when it hit, making Harry wince, as a ‘Critical Hit – 28 points’ message flashed above the creature. It didn’t move as it landed, and Harry cautiously edged forward.

As he approached, the creature was glowing faintly and he thought about the many games he and his family had tried to try and learn all they could that might help with the new system he would be experiencing. Guessing that the glow might be a ‘loot’ indication, Harry reached out to touch the creature and a loot window appeared. ‘5 knuts’ were added to his currency tab as well as ‘1 pound’. He also received ‘Hound Bile – 2 oz’ in a little stoppered vial, which was marked as a ‘Component’ and went into his inventory before the creature faded away. Looking into the now empty cell, he recoiled from the smell of demon dog poop, and not spotting anything of interest from the door decided not to risk it. He’d learned his lesson, so at the next cell he pulled the little flap down to look inside, seeing it again looked empty, and turning up nothing else of interest on a quick search.

Going up the stairs, he emerged not into a massive kitchen. Three huge hearth fires down one side were being attended by strange little creatures with big eyes and floppy ears, their legs shackled with a ball and chain as they slaved away at the cooking. Others of the creatures were scattered about, performing other tasks, as Harry looked around. He focused briefly on one of them and a tag labelled ‘House Elf Slave’ appeared above its head, the text a yellowish green that Harry could guess was not quite ‘friendly’ but slightly better than ‘neutral’ as far as hostility. His eyes continuing to scan through the large kitchen, he saw a tall thin woman with a whip at the far end, snapping out orders at the elves.

In the dungeon version of his place of confinement, apparently his Aunt Petunia was ‘Overseer Petunia’ and seemed intent on using her whip to draw every ounce of work from the poor enslave elves. Harry ducked to one side of the doorway down into the dungeons, the side farthest from Petunia, in order to edge away along the wall. As she was focused upon the elves, he was able to make his way to the doorway out into the garden instead of confronting his Aunt. While it had been a snowy morning outside in the real world, the ‘dungeon’ version it was late evening and a light rain made it even darker. Stepping out fully into the garden, it wasn’t the garden he was so familiar with from doing chores, but rather a prison yard that was overgrown with large gnarly trees and ominous looking plants. Thick curtains of moss hung from the trees, dripping in the rain, and the light leaking out from the building was fitful and patchy at best.

Looking back at the house as he stepped outside he gasped involuntarily, because instead of the modest two story home his relatives lived in, Durzkaban Prison was a massive building of stone and iron bars, fortified and ominous. The grey stone was darker with the slick rain, and glistened slightly in the reflected lights of the prison windows. He was so occupied with staring up at the building that he didn’t notice something moving until it brushed against his ankle, making him leap back in shock. A green tendril of vine was trying to wrap around his ankle, causing him to dance back farther to get out of reach. Looking at it for a moment, he identified it as ‘Tentacle Plant?’ as the name appeared above it.

He guessed that he lacked the knowledge to properly identify the strange plant, so his interface had assigned it a ‘made up’ name from his own mind, because he’d certainly have likely called it a ‘Tentacle Plant’ once he thought about it. Moving away he began to explore the large prison yard. The tree limbs, low as they were, felt like claws reaching down to grab at him while the hanging moss cast strange, undulating shadows that were ominous and oppressive. As he moved towards where he would have expected the garden shed to be, in this strange representation of the Number 4 Privet Drive, he began to hear a low, ominous growling.

Finally, coming out into a clearing, he could see that the ‘shed’ had a large, open doorway at the front, arched. No sooner had he stepped into the clearing than a pair of red eyes began to clow from within that doorway. At the same time, the sound of rustling plants made him look behind him. The pathway between the two trees he’d just emerged from was now grown over with thick vines, and looking around he could see more such encircling the clearing, keeping him from retreating into the woods. At the edges of the clearing, thick clumps of the tentacle vines began to writhe as a creature emerged from the shadowed doorway.

He recognized the foul pet of Aunt Marge, bot only barely. Like the Ripper Spawn he fought before, it’s back and shoulders were covered in spiny protrusions and it’s eyes glowed a malevolent shade of red. More unsettling though, was the size of the creature. While the real Ripper was nearly half as tall at Harry at five years old, the monstrosity that emerged from the doorway was almost twice his own height, drooling thick strands as it growled at him.

Then, without warning, the beast leapt to charge towards him, massive clawed feet tearing up the dirt of the clearing in great clumps. Only Harry’s relatively high agility (even if reduced due to age) and dodge skill saved him. Years of dodging the Dursley’s in his previous lifetime had granted him a respectable 9 ranks in his dodge skill, high for a level 1 as he understood it. Nimbly he dove to the side, scrambling quickly to his feet in time to run away from Ripper as the beast tried to reorient. He flicked his want towards the creature like he had before, but it appeared to be too large for his rudimentary ‘knockback’ ability. Again and again he dove out of the way of the charges from the overgrown dog creature, but he realized he wasn’t accomplishing anything. Finally, a near miss as he almost rolled into a cluster of vines gave him an idea.

Lining himself up between Ripper and the nearest cluster of vines, he waited until the last moment to throw himself out of the way, and the huge dog barreled right into the patch of grasping vines. The vines quickly wrapped around it, large thorns digging into the creature and trapping it as its health seemed likely to be decreasing. He couldn’t see the health meter of the creature, but it was clearly being hurt by the vines before it thrashed free. Unfortunately, it’s tearing ripped the vine up, destroying the patch.

Realizing it was the best strategy he had, Harry shifted and lured the creature into another patch of vines, only to watch the process repeat. After three mores sets of vines, the huge hound was moving far slower and looking ragged from the damage it had sustained, as it started to limp towards the shed, likely to lick it’s wounds. Not wanting to risk the monster escaping and potentially becoming a problem again, Harry lined up once more and attempted to use his knockback to force the creature into one last set of vines, the grasping foliage and beast expiring at the same time as Ripper fell down.

Exhausted from the dodging and running, Harry fell down too, gasping for breath as the rain fell around him, taking a few moments there on his knees to gather his thoughts about this exaggerated dungeon experience. “That was intense,” he said, laying his head back as he gathered his breath. “I think I should hold off on these as much as possible until I’m older.” But, seeing as he was in it now, and this was a time sensitive ‘event dungeon’, he really didn’t have much choice for the moment. Finally standing back up, he made his way towards the fallen Ripper. Realizing this couldn’t be the real Ripper, since his Aunt Marge lived hours away, he tapped on the fallen hound from hell and watched the items flash into his inventory. He got another five ounces of the hound bile, as well as a pair of ‘Hellhound Hide Boots’ that went into his inventory directly, along with 15 pounds and 3 sickles. Looking around, the vines that had blocked his escape and the tentacle plants were gone now, freeing him to depart.

Thinking a moment, he instead headed into the ‘doghouse’ that was where the garden shed would be. The smell was awful, but covering his nose he looked around for things that might be of use. A large pair of shears for trimming the hedge and a length of rope both went into his inventory. Looking around he found a busted hanging lamp that his Uncle was supposed to repair, that an electrician had already been called to replace, and an idea struck him. Removing the globes and bulbs from it, he tested the four pronged metal shape and grinned, before pulling his rope back out and tying it onto the lamp’s hanging ring, putting the now combined item back into his inventory. He noted that the item name had changed to ‘Climbing Rope’ now, thinking that likely meant success. A few more minutes of digging and he’d found a couple of screwdrivers and an old pocket knife, all of which went into his inventory in case he found use for them. He was just about to leave when his perception skill triggered, highlighting a turned area of dirt near a paver.

Not remembering a paver in the shed that he’d ever noticed, he eyed it for a moment before he bent down to examine it. He tried to lift it to no avail, before grabbing down a long handled wooden rake to pry it up with. Using the rake, he was able to pull the stone over, but the falling stone caught the head of the rake and snapped the wood off at the end. Looking the five foot long rake handle over he hmmed and put it into his inventory before going over to examine the space that had been beneath the paver.

Finding nothing there, a moment of confusion filled him before he noticed an etched circle pattern with strange markings on the underside of the paver. The pattern glowed a faint red as he looked at it, and seemed to pulse just slightly in a pattern. As he examined the markings, Harry felt strangely drawn to them, and a moment later a popup window appeared in his vision.

Mentally selecting ‘Yes’ Harry’s hand drew his wand again, almost as though on auto pilot, siphoning off the glowing red lines and watching them flow into his hand. Once he was done, the paver had nothing but strange etching on it, and he could no longer sense anything unusual about it at all. Casting about the dog shed to see if he noticed anything else, he shook his head when he didn’t and headed back outside. Sitting down on the step, he pulled the boots out of his inventory. They seemed far too large for his feet, made of thick, sturdy leather. Taking off his poorly fitted and duct taped trainers, he slid his foot into one of the boots and was surprised when it gave a little flash of light and shrunk to fit snugly. The thing came about halfway up his calf, and was lighter than he expected. He quickly put the other boot on and a screen popped up in his view.

Looking over the new interface system, he quickly created a new outfit and called it ‘Better Clothes’ for now. The boots automatically added to this outfit. Wanting to try the new system out, he selected the ‘Prisoner of Durzkaban’ and his boots vanished into inventory, replaced by his old trainers instantly. Grinning, he selected the ‘Better Clothes’ outfit only to let out a yelp of surprise when all of his clothes vanished, leaving him naked other than the boots he had on. Quickly he changed back again and manually put the boots back on. “Okay, glad to learn that now instead of when someone was watching,” he mused once he was fully attired again.

He was trying to figure out where to head next, when he remembered the series of pavers leading from the front gate to the door. Reckoning that one of those pavers might hold another of the blood wards, he started to make his way around towards the front of the house…prison…whatever.

The going was slow, but a bit easier as the rain had let up during his battle with Ripper, letting the moon come out. The leafless trees did little to block the light, instead casting jagged and fractured shadows upon the ground. No more enemies presented themselves as he made his way to the front of the prison, finding a large metal gate that glowed faintly. Approaching, a window appeared yet again in his vision.

Quickly thinking ‘No’ at the prompt, Harry turned away and instead started to look at the paving stones leading to the front of the prison. Instead of the series of a dozen or so he had expected, there were a couple score, packed in tightly and giving no hint as to which might be the one he was looking for. With a sigh, he set to work, using the set of hedge shears as a makeshift prybar to lift pavers and look beneath. Luck was with him, and after just the third stone he found what he was looking for right near the center of the gate leaving the prison, and siphoned off the blood rune’s power into himself.

That accomplished, he considered what his next course of action would be. Pulling up his map on the interface, he looked at what he could see of the Prison. There wasn’t much filled in yet, but the outer walls of the prison were shown by default, showing the boundary of the area. As he looked at it, he realized that with there being three wards, it would make the most sense for the final ward to be along the outer wall somewhere on the opposite side of the prison from the ‘garden’. Circling around that way, he had to dodge between grasping tentacle vines before coming across a large piece of machinery. Thinking back to the regular world, he realized this would be the outside unit for the air conditioner, remembering there were pavers set around and beneath it. A quick examination of the machines base and he was able to find a loose paver, pulling it out and turning it over to find the third and final blood ward. As he siphoned it off, a new window appeared, outlined in gold.

Reading through, Harry grinned and pumped a fist into the air in triumph, especially as with a swirl of gold lights he levelled up to Level 2. He quickly opened his interface and put additional points into ‘Sneaking’ and ‘Perception’ skills, figuring they were the most immediately applicable. He wanted to take time to really consider where to spend his ability point, so held off on assigning it for now. Then, he took time to examine the machine that he was standing beside. While it didn’t exactly look like the air conditioning unit from the real world version of the house, he could see a massive fan behind the grate, that was pushing air into a duct running into the prison. Judging by the frost on the duct, he guessed the machine served the same purpose as the real world equivalent, keeping the prison ‘cooled’.

Guessing that his Uncle Vernon and if he was present, Cousin Dudley were no more ‘fit’ than they were in real life, Harry grinned slightly. Pulling the longest of the screwdrivers he’d looted in the shed out, he looked down into the grating. Finding a likely spot, he jammed the screwdriver down into the grate, the metal tool being caught by the blade and bound up with the bars, halting the spinning. Jumping back quickly as sparks started to fly from the machine, Harry couldn’t help but laugh as it sputtered and sparked, before catching fire. A bellow of anger from inside the prison made Harry grin all the more, as he started to make his way back towards the front of the prison.

Going back around to the doorway into the kitchens, Harry looked in and then slipped inside. The elves weren’t working any more, but were instead staring towards Overseer Petunia, who was looking quite the worse for wear at the moment. She was slumped over near one of the furnace like ovens, looking exhausted. In addition to her exhausted state, strange vines wrapped around her form, digging sharp thorns into her. Harry could just make out the sound of a voice he recognized, quiet to him but quite loud to Petunia, judging by the way she flinched, as Lily Potter voiced her utter displeasure at the treatment of her son.

Moving quickly, Harry tried to end the fight against the cowed and injured opponent quickly, using his wand to try and knock her back into the oven like the wicked witch she was. While she staggered to the oven and screamed as the heat seared her, she didn’t fall all the way in and instead brought her whip around, snapping a stinging blow that caught Harry across his shoulder, ripping the fabric of his oversized t-shirt and shaving 15 HP off of his health bar in that one hit. Trying to avoid getting hit with that whip again, Harry rushed towards her, once more brandishing his wand and attempting the knockback magic he’d used before. Once more she staggered but didn’t fall into the oven, instead pulling out an immense frying pan and swinging it at Harry. The thing dealt a glancing blow to his head, making him see spots briefly and knocking another 10 points off of his health, making him thankful that he hadn’t been caught fully by the pan.

As she brought it around again, and desperate to avoid being hit, Harry pointed his wand up just wanting to make her stop, and a flash of red light blasted from the end of his wand and caught her in the chest. ‘Instinctive Stunning Jinx’ flashed briefly in his vision and he watched as suddenly Overseer Petunia stopped moving. Acting quickly he shoved forward, knocking her back into the oven fully where she immediately went up in smoke with a little scream that he was sure he’d heard in a movie. Or, actually. Several movies when he thought about it.

Shaking his head at the strange thought, he looked around and spotted a little glowing bag near where Petunia had vanished. Touching it with his hand, he smiled as 50 pounds and 1 galleon appeared in his inventory, as well as a pair of ‘Hellhound Hide Pants’ which he immediately took the time to put on as well as adding them to his ‘better clothes’ outfit. They resized to a perfect fit just like the boots had, and Harry looked down at them. At a glance, they could perhaps be mistaken for black colored jeans, with the texturing of the material. One touch would rule that out entirely though, but even so they were comfortable and well fitted, new experiences in this current lifetime.

Looking around, Harry saw the dozen or so elves standing around, all staring. He also noticed the whip that Overseer Petunia had been using laying on the floor. Picking the whip up, he grinned as it vanished and a message appeared –

For a moment, Harry was going to move on, before he looked around at the elves and frowned. They were all dressed in similar looking tunics that sported a crest on the left breast. He didn’t recognize the crest, guessing it must be ‘Durzkaban Prison’, but the creatures looked miserable and it made Harry’s heart ache. Moving to the nearest, he knelt down, “Here, let me see your ankle,” he said to the elf. Examining the manacle, he drew out one of the screwdrivers he’d looted as well as the little pocket knife. After a few minutes of trying though, he shook his head. “It’s no good, I’ll see if I can find a key though,” he promised the creature who only nodded, as though clearly not expecting a rescue.

Searching the kitchen area didn’t turn up any sort of keys that might help rescue the elves, but it did turn up a hugely oversized knife. Thinking about it, he realized that Overseer Petunia had looked to be about seven and a half feet tall, so the size of the knife made sense. Even so, when he picked it up, there was a little flash of light and the items description changed to ‘Basic Shortsword’, triggering the unlock of a new skill for ‘swordsmanship’. Giving a little shrug and not questioning where the sheath at his hip came from, Harry sheathed the sword and moved on to continue exploring.

The ground floor of the prison yielded three more fights, against two of Dudley’s goon patrol – Piers Polkiss and Malcolm Mercher, who between his new ‘stunner’ and his short sword were fairly easy to defeat and netted him an additional 12 pounds between them as well as a pair of Hellhound Hide Gloves which he equipped. In the ‘living room’ which was now the ‘Visitor’s Center’ of the Prison, Harry had to face off against Marge Dursley, a much more difficult fight. Reduced to having to dodge and avoid her, he was confused as she kept getting larger and larger, filling up the space of the visitor center. Finally, red in the face and screaming obscenities about his parents, the foul woman exploded, sending Harry flying back to slam against the wall and dazing him. Thankfully, it seemed that the goal of the fight was to out last her tirade, and the fight was over. She’d called for Ripper at one point, making Harry thankful that he’d defeated the foul dog first. Examining the room had found him an ‘Imported Tunic’ which he’d found to be a quite comfortable replacement shirt when he put it on, dark green in color and fitting well. She’d also left behind a bag with 50 pounds, along with various assorted 1, 5, 10, 20 and 50 pence coins which all filled into his inventory easily enough.

When searching the first floor yielded no new notes of interest, Harry headed upstairs to the second floor. Where the smaller of the two bedrooms would have been, Harry found a massive ‘storage’ room, in which he had to fight a strange creature that seemed to be formed of the animated piles of junk. The stinging hex seemed extremely effective against the ‘Mimic Monstrosity’ and let Harry avoid getting too close as he whittled it down. Once it had fallen apart, Harry explored the junk room, adding numerous items to his inventory – a pup tent in it’s storage bag, an oil lantern, several blank journals along with various pens and pencils, 28 golf balls from when Vernon had been going to take up golf as well as a couple of the clubs since he thought they might be good for use as clubs. He also found a large pet carrier that the Dursley’s had used to bring home a guinea pig that Dudley had wanted and then let escape. Perhaps most useful of all though, was a bicycle which had a bent front wheel. Wishing he could repair it, he flicked his wand at it and managed an ‘instinctive repair charm’ before managing to put that into his inventory as well. Amazed such a large item could basically vanish into his pocket, he decided to grab every book he could find in the room. There was a full set of mundane encyclopedias as well as various adventure books, all unused. Not everything in the room was so benign a find ether, as Harry found a long sword as well as a spear that he dropped into his inventory. He thought he’d stick with the shorter sword for the time being, considering his current size. He was also able to add another few pounds and pence to his inventory, as well as another 8 sickles and 15 knuts.

 Moving towards the next room, a ‘barracks’ for the guards, Harry discovered ‘Guard Captain Dudley Dursley’, passed out on one of the bunks and gasping for breath. Realizing the sweltering heat that was even starting to be uncomfortable for Harry would likely be unbearable for the overweight ‘Guard Captain’, Harry moved as stealthily as he could towards the bed. Not having the heart to stab the obviously miserable representation of his cousin, Harry turned his blade and rapped him over the head with the flat of the blade. Hard. The fight was over before it had even begun, and Harry quickly looted a ‘Hellhound Leather Jacket’ which he put on over his new shirt. He also found in the chest at the end of his cousin’s bunk a dozen ‘High Quality Ration Packs’ which seemed to be some sort of pre-prepared and packaged meals. Slipping them into his inventory, Harry examined the desk in the barracks, finding just shy of eighty pounds in various coins as well as a spread out map of the prison. One look at the map and his interface map updated, letting him see the rest of the prison’s floor plan.

Just two areas left to explore, the ‘Warden’s Office’ and the ‘Attic’. Harry’s magic bar was down by about a third, and his health bar about a quarter, from the damage he’d accrued in the dungeon so far. Unlike many games he’d played, this interface didn’t seem to heal all of his injuries in a matter of moments, though certainly he was in better shape than he would have been had he really suffered the injuries he’d sustained. The injuries were mostly superficial, leaving him able to continue on but looking worse than he really felt. He headed down the short hallway to the Warden’s office, finding the door open. Looking inside, he couldn’t help the tremble that ran through him seeing Warden Dursley pacing back and forth, swearing sulphurously about the heat. He looked to be about nine feet tall and dressed in armor complete with a breastplate. He had a massive club that Harry recognized as an oversized version of the wooden paddle he’d been introduced to on several occasions, making the boy shrink back a bit.

Gathering up his courage though, he growled out, “Not. Again.” as a sort of oath to himself, before stepping into the office. The Warden immediately turned to him and roared, “YOU! I’m COMING FOR YOU BOY!” before he raised the paddle and charged. Thankfully, between the debuff from the ‘Mother’s Wrath’ effect, and the blistering heat within the office, the Warden’s movements were sluggish. Harry easily dodged away from the huge man, swinging his wand and sending a stunner at him. The spell seemed to have no effect, and the followup stinger only enraged the Warden further. Trying to use one of the chairs in the room as cover, Harry only barely dove out of the way as his overgrown Uncle barreled straight through it with a roar of anger and pain.

Again and again, Harry lured him to smash into pieces of furniture, seeming to injure him a bit more each time. Finally, climbing up onto the desk, Harry swung his wand around and cast another stinger at the enraged man, catching his left eye and causing him to stagger. His charge faltered before resuming, one eye swollen shut now. He impacted the desk with a loud splintering, sending the pieces of it scattering across the room as he fell to the floor. Harry, sent flying by the impact, slammed up against the wall behind the desk and slumped down, his wand skittering across the floor. Recovering more quickly, he went diving after the wand and rolled, throwing another spell at the Warden’s face just feet away and catching him in the other eye. With both eyes now swollen shut, the Warden was effectively blinded, and Harry looked around for anything he could use. Spotting the open door onto the  balcony, Harry moved over that way and called out, “Catch me if you can, Warden Walrus!” in a mocking tone, before dodging off to one side at the last moment as Warden Dursley charged towards him with a furious bellow.

He slammed into the railing of the balcony with enough force to crack the stone before he went toppling over, falling down and slamming into the roof of the doghouse/shed, shattering it as he passed through. As experience points flashed across his vision, Harry was fairly sure that the Warden wasn’t going to be getting back up. Quickly climbing down, he dropped to the roof of the shed where it wasn’t broken before moving to the front and climbing down the stones there. Going inside, he pressed a hand against the inert form of the most heinous of his tormentors, as several items appeared in his inventory. Three keys, one a large iron one, one a smaller one that looked like steel and the final a tiny golden key that looked immediately familiar, reminding Harry of the vault key to his Gringott’s Vault, one of his ‘essential’ memories. He also looted a large envelop addressed to Vernon and Petunia Dursley in a flowing, elegant handwriting, a quick glance revealing it to be the letter that had been left with him when he was left on the step. Over two hundred pounds were added to his inventory ‘wallet’ as well as a couple of other pieces of paper. One of them was the deed to Number Four Privet Drive, which it seemed was currently owned by ‘James Charlus Potter’ while the other was a shareholder note for Grunning’s also in the name of ‘James Charlus Potter’ for a fairly significant number of shares. Having spent time with his parents, Harry was aware already that his father had bought the mortgage for #4 Privet Drive in order to allow him to legally place monitoring wards on the property to help Lily protect her estranged sister. His father had admitted that the shares in Grunning’s were because he just ‘flat didn’t like Dursley from the first time we met’, an opinion he’d never found reason to improve. The last item he recovered was a glowing crystal that identified as a ‘Memory Shard’.

Examining the keys, the medium sized key was marked ’13 uses remaining’ without any description to give him an idea what it went to. He considered a moment before grinning, running back through the bit of garden yard and into the kitchen. Going to the nearest of the elves, he unlocked the manacle binding it with the key, before quickly moving on to the next. A dozen elves later, and they all gathered around Harry excitedly before one of them smiled, “Harry Potter, sir, is a good Wizard,” it said approvingly as all of the others nodded happily before they vanished with a series of little ‘pop’ noises. He was shocked to see his magic bar drop to less than a quarter of his full bar remaining all at once, before a notification popped up in his view.

Grinning as the quest experience pushed him over to third level, Harry quickly put two points each into Perception and Persuasion again, reasoning that by now the dungeon was almost cleared. He hurried through and back to the front gate.

Mentally selecting ‘No’, Harry headed back inside quickly, hurrying back upstairs to the Warden’s office. He’d noticed a large chest that had been behind the now destroyed desk, and used the largest of the keys to open it. Inside, Harry found a fairly large number of coins, both mundane and magical, nearly tripling the amount of coins he had of both types. Finding nothing else of interest in the chest, he moved about the upper floor, trying to spot a way up into the attic, since it was the only area he hadn’t yet explored. Finally, going out onto the balcony and looking up, he spotted a window higher on the roof. It took four tries with his rope before he was able to get his improvised grappling hook to catch, but eventually he was able to climb up onto the sloped roof and use the rope to make his way up to the window. Using his heavy boots he kicked in one of the panes before reaching to unlock the latch carefully, climbing in. Remembering to unhook his rope and stow it in his inventory again, he looked around the dark attic. Remembering a game of night time tag with his family in the other childhood, he flicked his wand thinking about ‘light’ and the tip flared to life – ‘Instinctive Light Charm!’ flashing over his interface. Using his new light it was easy to look around the attic, though it took a little time to find what he was looking for. Tucked into a back corner and covered with years of dust, was a school trunk, dark red with bright brass fittings that looked almost gold, the clasp of which was in the shape of a lily flower.

Reaching out and touching the trunk, the lid popped open immediately, displaying a compartment full of school books, with a note on top.

Wiping the tears from his eyes and waving away the notification that he’d completed the ‘What You’re Owed’ quest without even reading it, Harry put the note back into the trunk and carefully closed the lid. He would go through the documents later, hopefully when he found a place to hunker down and be safe, away from his relatives. He was bruised and beaten, exhausted both physically and magically, and reading the letter from his mother had been painful, making him realize how deeply he was missing his parents, Sirius and Remus. He cycled the trunk through options until it shrank down into a small cube that would easily fit in his pocket, before stowing that into his inventory. Looking around the attic, he headed towards the trap door he’d seen earlier, pushing it down and unfolding the ladder so he could descend into the second floor hallway and make his way to the front gate. Realizing that his new clothes would likely draw attention if he was in them when he went back to the regular world he changed back to his hand me downs using the wardrobe menu, before interacting with the gate a final time.

Selecting ‘Yes’ with a thought, his head swam as colors flooded his vision and swirled around him, before he was deposited on the floor of the kitchen once again. He could hear the sound of a car cranking and recognized his uncle must be leaving, before the pain hit him. Groaning and trying to push himself up to his feet, he realized he was laying in a puddle of blood and that his left arm hurt. A lot. Looking at it and seeing it was bent at an unnatural angle, he let out a cry of pain, cradling it against his body. His head swam, the urge to pass out nearly overcoming him as he staggered out into the garden. The cold bite of the chill wind helped, numbing the pain as he started to shiver. He pushed the loose board of the fence out of the way, not even knowing where he was going. Just away.

How no one noticed him he couldn’t guess, and he didn’t even realize that he’d gone one street over until he was leaning against the back door of one of the houses, knocking on it feebly. He could hear the sound of cats, their high meowing confusing him at first before the door opened and he fell through, falling against the woman inside as she shrieked. “Gods in heaven boy, what have they done to you?” she exclaimed, gathering him in.

Oh. Mrs. Figg..he struggled to remember something important as she bustled him into the living room and laid him down on the couch. At his whimper, she rolled him over slightly only to gasp in horror and shock, “I’ll get help,” she said, “just wait here Harry. I’ll call Albus and Poppy,” she said quickly, starting to move way.

Mrs. Figg…she was Dumbledore’s spy. Here to keep an eye on him. The quest! He reached out with a hoarse, “No! Please! Dumbledore caused this… He’ll send me back there. Done it before..” he pleaded, “Bones. Call Bones. House…Potter….Ally..” he managed to beg, before darkness swallowed him and he passed out at last.

Chapter Text

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Hermione Granger put her book down, hearing her parents calling her down to dinner. She knew her parents were concerned about her, though she didn’t really understand the ‘why’ of it yet. At six and in Year 2 of primary school, she certainly understood that she was not like other kids her age. Not that she tried to be different, but she loved school and loved to learn. She had been tested earlier in the year and was already reading at a level appropriate for a secondary school student, and was at least two years ahead in her mathematics. She didn’t try to make the other students look bad, but when teachers asked questions of the class her hand was always the first one up. Did they think she ought not to know the answers? It never occurred to her to hide her knowledge, after all, even at only six years old she thought that hiding knowledge was an awful thing to do.

It didn’t help that strange things happened around her. They always had, she had heard her parents talk about some of the strange things that happened when she was still just a baby, like her favorite stuffed bear toy reappearing in her crib after being put away. Repeatedly. Or the time when she was reading one of her children’s books and her father put it away on a book shelf, only for it to float back across the room into her hands so she could continue reading.

Her aunt, the wife of her mother’s older brother, had once accused Hermione of being the ‘Devil’s Child’ when she’d taken a toy away from Hermione that she was playing with to give to her own child, only to get struck in the head by the toy while Hermione was on the other side of the room. It had started an almighty row and now Aunt Rebeccah wasn’t allowed to visit any more, though Uncle Edward stopped by from time to time still.

The incidents happened at school too, usually to students who were mean to her or called her names. She never got in trouble for them, after all, the teacher’s adored her and could see she wasn’t doing anything when the students accused her of being the one who threw a chalk board eraser or said she had been the one to trip them. Since she was sitting across the room, clearly she hadn’t been, but their insistence had resulted in at least two parent conferences to discuss the ‘meaningless accusations’, the teachers clearly on Hermione’s side in them. Either way, the other kids avoided her, with the braver of them even making fun of her bushy hair or buck teeth as a way to show off their lack of fear.

To say that Hermione was lonely would be an understatement, but it was a loneliness she was getting used to. As she went downstairs to sit down to dinner with her parents, her mother looked to her. “Sweetie, your father and I have been talking to Mrs. Bartenni, and she feels that your current classes aren’t challenging enough for you. What do you think about it?”

Hermione loved her parents, and this was one of the biggest reasons why. They actually cared what she thought, listening to her input. They knew full well how intelligent and precocious she was, and seemed most interested in finding the best ways to nurture her. She considered it for a moment before she responded, “While the curriculum isn’t challenging, the information that I’ve read about children being placed in higher grades has been inconclusive as to whether the benefits are enough to outweigh the potential psychological ramifications of early advancement. As such, I would be neither for nor against it, and would defer to your decision, Mum.” She then smiled, “Well, both of yours,” she added with a look to her father.

He smiled back, “Good to know, princess, but in this case we had something a little different in mind. The dentist I interned with back in university is retiring next month, and called me about his practice. He’s looking to sell, but wants someone he trusts to take over his clients. He offered your mother and I quite an excellent deal on buying out the practice, but it would involve moving. We’ve been looking, and there’s a school in the area that is focused on gifted students like you. You’d have to take a test to be admitted, but let’s be honest, there’s never been a test my princess couldn’t pass,” he winked.

Her mother reached over and squeezed her hand, “it would be smaller classes with more interaction with your teachers. The school has extremely good placement rates for some of the more prestigious secondaries as well. But, it would mean moving and leaving the people you know behind,” she said. She didn’t say ‘friends’ because she was all too aware that Hermione hadn’t managed to make any, with the exception perhaps of the teachers and librarian at the school that she was close to.

Hermione smiled, “That sounds wonderful, Mum, Dad. Are you excited about your new practice?” she asked. She was aware that her parents were among the most, if not likely the most well off in their current neighborhood. While her father was a regular dentist, her mother was an oral surgeon, and had been looking to open a combined practice for a couple of years now in an area that would allow them to grow and expand the practice. Seeing both of them relax a bit at her easy acceptance, she asked, “where will we be moving?”

“Crawley,” her father responded, “we’ve already made some tentative inquiries with a broker, and were thinking we might all go down this next weekend and look at properties.”

As dinner continued on, Hermione couldn’t help feeling excited about the prospect of a new start in a anew place, and maybe meeting students that were more like herself. Once dinner was finished, she headed up for bed, absently wondering if she’d dream of the boy with the bright green eyes again tonight.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Far away, in a massive edifice of stone and sorrow sitting on a small island in the North Sea, another person’s thoughts turned to a green eyed boy, the pain and sorrow gnawing at him and certainly bringing him neither joy nor comfort. He looked out the tiny window of his cell, not even large enough to fit an arm through, but somehow still plenty large enough for the cold rain to splash through and into his cell. As if it wasn’t cold and miserable enough in this hell hole. The cries and whimpers coming down the hall told him that the dementors were coming by on another circuit. He pulled away from the window and shifted down into the form of Padfoot, hopping up onto the small dry section of his cot where the spray from the window hadn’t soaked. Curling up, he tucked his head up against his body, thankful for the heavy fur of his animagus form.

‘I’ll see you again one day, Harry. I’ll make it all up to you, I promise,’ he thought to himself, a little whimper escaping as he did. Thankfully, the mind of a dog is simpler than a humans, and more complex thoughts than wanting to be with his boy were beyond Padfoot’s ability, just like Padfoot was beyond the ability of the dementors to affect. Sleeping and waiting, that was all there was to his life, and so he tried to drift off to sleep as the sound of the storm raging outside pounded against the massive prison and the screams and cries of the other prisoners echoed through it’s immense halls.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Elsewhere on the North Sea, another man was listening to the storm raging outside the fishing vessel he’d hired onto. He often hired on for at least a couple of trips this time of year, thankful for the old fisherman he’d come across back in the days of the war. The old fisherman was a massive pile of superstitions and old wives tails that he took as absolute gospel. That didn’t really bother Remus Lupin in the slightest, considering he knew just what it was that went bump in the night that frightened men so. He’d always known, since he was one of those creatures.

But the fisherman refused, absolutely refused, to be at sea on a full moon. He always set in to port two days before and wouldn’t sail for two days after, and while others who hired on liked the long shore leave it afforded each month, for Remus it was a perfect arrangement. If the boat ran year round, he might even hire on permanently, even if the old fisherman was a bit ill tempered for his tastes. Unfortunately, the fisherman mostly fished the cod runs in the autumn and winter, when the larger specimens were to be found. In the spring and summer, when the weather was more accommodating, he ran the boat as a tourist enterprise, hiring out spots to vacationers for day trips deep sea fishing. It was, according to him, far easier money than actually working for a living, especially as the vacationers were always eager to hear his old sea tales and ghost stories, making him among the more popular Captains doing such trips.

But on a cold January night? It was the perfect place for Remus, as he sipped from a bottle and felt the hot liquor burn it’s way down his throat. The sea has no memory, they said, and that was just the sort of place Remus wanted to be. To not have to remember everyone he’d lost. That he was the last, left alone again after finally finding a family. That he was too dangerous to be allowed to see his unofficial nephew. That, even though the man he once thought of as a brother was in prison for the crime, there were still those who thought of course he was really at fault. It had to be the werewolf that caused Sirius to betray James and Lily.

He took another drink, eager to head off that train of thought. Eager to forget. Tomorrow was going to be unpleasant, he’d had more to drink than he should already. Maybe he’d get lucky and the storm would keep up, keeping them from putting out nets and lines tomorrow.

Or maybe the boat would sink. He could only hope.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

In an elegant manor in the eastern part of the country, the storm over the North Sea was keeping another young boy from sleep, the thunder frightening him. He knew not to go bother his gran, that she’d just be disappointed in him, though she tried to hide it and didn’t realize he knew. It wasn’t that she didn’t love him, he realized that. But ever since Grampa died, she’d just gotten sadder. He knew that his parents being hurt had been a huge blow to his Gran, and then having to bury her husband within a few years had just made things worse.

Uncle Algie was supposed to come by tomorrow, which he was looking forward to, despite the fact that last time he’d come by he’d nearly caused Neville to drown. Of course, he’d also been the one to jump in and pull Neville out, by hand rather than by wand. Neville had heard his Gran scolding her brother-in-law that night when they thought he was asleep. His Uncle was absolutely convinced that Neville was magical, something even Neville had started to doubt. He’d reassured his Gran that ‘of course I’ll never let him get hurt, you think I’d let the last descendent of my brother get hurt? I just wanted to scare a bit of magic out of him. I just don’t get it Augusta, it’s almost like it’s deliberately hiding, only slipping out when no one is paying attention!’

It was something Neville thought about often, wondering why his magic would be hiding, if he really even  had any. Maybe he was a Squib like his Auntie Julia said, but at least he knew his Gran wouldn’t abandon him like some families would.

Rolling over, he hugged his pillow, listening to the storm outside and thankful that the thunder had stopped at least. Soon, the storm had lulled him to sleep, the boy never realizing that it wasn’t the house elf or his Gran that came in and tucked the blankets up closer around him to keep him warm against the chill of the night, but his own magic drawing them close as he slept.

Chapter Text

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

“Calmly, Mister Potter. You’re safe now,” came a gentle voice, as Harry’s eyes began to flutter open. As they did, he opened his eyes fully to see the face of Poppy Pomfrey looking down at him, recognizing the healer from the ‘essential’ memories he had acquired. Among them were all of the teacher’s he had encountered at Hogwarts (and there were certainly a LOT of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professors, almost universally bad).

“Oh no. Not Hogwarts,” he started, trying to pull away from her before another voice cut in quietly, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“No, Mister Potter. Not Hogwarts, you’re in a secure ward of St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries,” said the woman as she drew his attention. “I am Amelia Bones, I was contacted earlier today by a squib by the name of Arabella Figg, demanding I come through immediately on a matter of life and death, and threatening me with all manner of curse and calamities if I didn’t keep you a secret, especially from a certain Hogwarts Headmaster. She said it was what you demanded?”

Harry, nodding along slightly to the woman’s words, looked towards Madam Pomfrey with suspicion and confusion then. “I am under oath not to disclose the identity of the emergency patient I was asked to consult on, nor the nature of any injuries or ailments they may have had.” Her face darkened then, “though all things considered, I’d have set that old bastards beard on fire before I’d have told him a damned thing about the situation.”

Unsure what to say for the moment, Harry was distracted briefly as notifications popped up onto his field of vision.

Harry blinked away the notifications, realizing that the two women were looking at him oddly. “I’m sorry. I lost track of things for a moment, could you repeat that ma’am?” he asked quietly in an apologetic tone.

As Poppy murmured about ‘the poor dear’ Amelia nodded, “Of course Mister Potter. As I was saying, we were more than shocked at the state you were in when you arrived, as well as the results of the healers medical scans. Madam Pomfrey was called in to consult about your scar, as it had previously been reported to have been a curse mark, but exhibits no evidence of being such now.”

Thinking quickly, Harry nodded. “It changed a few days ago, it used to be all red and ugly, but some sort of black vapor came out of it and it started bleeding for a minute, then when I washed the blood away, it was like this instead,” he said quietly.

“Well, it’s certainly nothing like what it was when I examined you as a baby, Mister Potter,” she said, seeming quite pleased with the change.

“Please, you can just call me Harry. I’m still not used to having a name other than ‘Boy’,” he said quietly. It wasn’t even entirely an act, as he had two childhoods worth of arriving at his first day of school and not knowing his name wasn’t ‘Boy’ to draw upon.

Both women bristled, and looked across the bed at one another. “Harry then,” said Amelia gently, “can you tell us how you got hurt, before you went to Mrs. Figg’s house?”

The tears weren’t at all fake. He could remember the beating all too well, especially now that he could remember it twice. An important document hadn’t been in his Uncle’s briefcase when he arrived at the office that morning, and he’d had to drive home and retrieve it. He blamed Harry of course, and had whipped him across the back with his belt, using the buckle end. When he’d tried to curl up in a ball to protect himself, his uncle had kicked him and broken his arm, leaving him bleeding on the floor.

Stammering, barely able to get the words out at first, he started to talk. To tell them what had happened. He knew he had to do so, his Mom and Dad had sat with him and held him as he cried and told them about his childhood. Helped him be strong enough to tell the people that needed to know. And once it started, it just kept coming out, the things that had been done to him. It was only when he realized that he was about to start talking about things that hadn’t yet happened in this timeline that he stopped talking finally.

“Here sweetie, drink this and rest a while. We’ll.. We’ll be back in a bit,” Madam Pomfrey managed to choke out, pouring a calming drought into his mouth and nestling him down again as sleep overcame him once more.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

“Oh Merlin, Amelia.. Do you think Dumbledore really knew. Knew what the boy was going through there?” asked Pomfrey, tears staining her face. She’d seen a lot in her years, and dealt with more abused children than she’d ever have wanted to. But this boy was special, not just because of all the ‘Boy Who Lived’ nonsense, but he was James and Lily’s, two of the best and brightest ever to come through Hogwarts. She’d come to St. Mungo’s to assist with delivering him, and been the one to examine him that night and do what she could to heal that curse mark on his forehead. To see that boy broken and beaten like that.

“I don’t know Poppy, I truly don’t know. I’d like to think not, but Arabella Figg said he begged her to call me instead of Dumbledore. Told her that Dumbledore would send him back there. That he’d done it before.” She sighed, “Begged her to call me as an ally of House Potter.”

“What will you do?” asked the healer quietly.

With a wry laugh, Amelia glanced to her. “I’m going to tear this bloody country apart and find out what in the name of Merlin has been going on, and I’m going to do everything in my power to protect that little boy, even if it’s Dumbledore I end up having to protect him from! Come on, I’ve taken over the room across the hall as a temporary office and I expect that Moody is back by now.”

Walking across the hall, she found that indeed Moody was back, along with his protégé, Kingsley Shacklebolt. “Good, I’m glad you’re back. What can you tell me?” she asked, moving to the desk she’d transfigured from a hospital bed when she’d arrived earlier that afternoon.

“It’s a fuckin’ shit show, Ami,” Moody drawled with his usual regard for decorum and propriety. He had been her mentor when she went through Auror training, so she was well used to his manner, even if she’d changed over to the legal side of things. “There’s traces of blood wards with the kid’s blood used for them at the place, we had plenty of it on the kitchen floor to sample. Caught the Aunt working to clean it up and cursing the boy, hoping he’d bled out and was out of their hair for good. Snagged the Uncle when he came home, bastard didn’t even realize he’d gone back to the office with blood splattered on his pants leg, since he can’t see his feet for the belly he’s hauling around. Not a picture of the boy in the place, only evidence he lived there at all is a little sign on the inside of a cupboard door, drawn in crayon, that says ‘Harry’s Room’ on it and a crib mattress on the floor of the cupboard. That while there’s an empty bedroom upstairs with junk piled in it. If I hadn’t had junior here with me, I might have damned well turned all three of them into mice and fed them to Figg’s kneazles. Slowly.”

“The blood wards, any way to tell what they were for or who cast them?”

“As to what they were for, I’d say it was some sort of strong protection, probably well intentioned even. But illegal as hell to use a minor’s blood for em. Not to mention that setting them up in a muggle neighborhood, as powerful as they would likely have been considering who’s blood it was bein’ used and who likely cast ‘em? They’d have turned everyone in range against the source of the blood. Not saying it would have made those relatives of his much better, but they certainly made them more willing to act out on their darker impulses and made everyone nearby willing to turn a blind eye to what was going on. Even old Figgy says she didn’t realize how bad it was, despite having been put there to watch out for the boy.”

“So. Dumbledore takes him there and leaves him, then proceeds to erect blood wards around the place without heed for the animosity it will cause towards the focus of those wards, and leaves a squib with no power to intervene as the only magical guardian anywhere near the place.” She shook her head, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “What’d you do with the aunt, uncle and cousin?”

“Dropped the other boy with an Aunt Marge, though considering some of the crap she was spouting when I dumped him off, I’m pretty sure we’ll want to bring her in for questioning as well. The Aunt and Uncle are in holding under a stasis charm, waiting to be interrogated ‘officially’. Uncle still has the kids blood on his pants leg.”

“Alright, take Shacklebolt here and go interrogate them, give them one drop of veritaserum each. Ask them about the Aunt and if either of them suggest she might have been involved in criminal activity, go out and question her as well. If you have to arrest her, drop the cousin at one of the muggle children’s homes that’s in the know. Make sure to ask them about how the boy got there and what they were told, as well as whether they were aware of the wards.” She looked across to Poppy as the other two left, “I’m going to need an oath from you beyond just your healer’s oath on this Poppy, if any word of this gets back to Dumbledore and he’s involved, he’ll take action and I don’t know what that might look like.”

“Of course,” Poppy said, tears still in her eyes, “I just can’t believe Albus would meaningfully do harm to the boy though Amelia.”

“Perhaps not, but meaningful or not, there’s a lot of harm been done to that little boy in just four years.”

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

It was a few hours later, near supper time, when Harry was awakened again. He had a moment of disorientation before remembering where he was. Amelia and Poppy were back, with another man Harry didn’t recognize, but guessed was a healer considering his attire. Seeing his gaze linger on the man, Amelia supplied, “This is Healer Smethwick, Harry. He’s been looking after you, but wasn’t in the room when you woke up earlier.”

“Good evening Mr. Potter, I’m quite glad to see you awake again,” the man said with a gentle tone, “how are you feeling this evening? Up for a bit of dinner perhaps?”

“I’m fine,” Harry started to say, but his stomach betrayed him at that exact moment, growling loudly and drawing a chuckle from the three adults. “Food could be good,” he admitted with a small, embarrassed smile.

“Wonderful, I’ll have something sent right in. Now, Madam Pomfrey has been asked by Madam Bones here to be your primary, since you’ll be her only concern whereas alas, you’d have to share me with the rest of the patients in this wing.” He winked, showing no sign of perturbance at being ousted from one of his patients, “I’ll still be around though if you need anything and one of these fine ladies aren’t available, alright?”

At Harry’s nod, he smiled and turned to Pomfrey, “Well then, Madam Pomfrey, the patient is all yours,” he said as he passed her a scroll of parchment and headed for the door.

“Well then, Harry. It looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other for a few days,” said Pomfrey with a smile, “Madam Bones here would like to speak with you, so I’m going to go see about a few potions to help get you up and about as quick as possible. I’ll be back with your dinner in a few minutes.”

Nodding and offering a quiet, “Thank you, Madam Pomfrey,” as she headed out the door, Harry looked to Amelia next who pulled a chair over and sat down beside the bed. “Now then, Harry. First of all, what’s been happening. I have your Aunt and Uncle in custody, and I expect very soon will have your Uncle’s sister in custody as well. The question is, what to do with you afterwards. I’m afraid that, as far as I have been able to surmise, your Aunt Petunia truly is your last living relative closer than cousin’s a couple of times removed. And I’m afraid that the nearest cousin’s I could find are…a somewhat undesirable choice for potential guardianship.”

“I have a godfather,” Harry began, only for Amelia’s face to darken with a sorrowful look as she interrupted.

“Harry, I’m so sorry. I guess you wouldn’t have a way to know, but your godfather is in prison. He was convicted of.. Well, he was convicted of being responsible for your parents death, as well as a number of other people,” she said in a soothing tone.

His parents had made a special point of having Iggy and Alora come in and tell Harry, very specifically, that everything from the childhood with his parents was ‘a dream’ of sorts. Harry almost smiled, as he understood that particular piece of pranking phrasing as he replied, “Madam Bones. I have…dreams sometimes. Where I learn things I wouldn’t necessarily know. Like learning that the House of Bones is an old ally of the House of Potter, despite only having learned that my name was Harry Potter a few months ago when I started school.” He gave a small shrug, before continuing, “I never told anyone because I was afraid I’d get punished for it. But, I dreamt that my Mom said to ask you ‘How are you so sure? Were you at the trial? Hear the confession?’ and, well. She seemed kinda smug about it, like she was laughing at you.”

Amelia, who had indeed known Lily Potter and been shown up by her a few times despite her being a couple of years younger at Hogwarts, could almost see the knowing, borderline smug look Lily would have had asking that, as she thought about the questions. Narrowing her eyes slightly, she said, “go on, Mister Potter, I have a feeling that’s not all, is it?”

With a shake of his head he continued, “Four friends, four animals. A wolf, a rat, a dog and a stag. Moony, Wormtail, Padfood and Prongs. Prongs is gone, he’s with Mom. Moony went away sad. Padfoot is in prison, when he shouldn’t be. There’s a way to track something or look for something, but only if you know the name of the thing, right? But if it doesn’t have the same name in the form that it’s in, then you couldn’t track it by the wrong name, could you?”

Amelia wasn’t rising meteorically through the ranks of the DMLE because of her family connections, unlike some of her colleagues at the Ministry of Magic. Her eyes widened and she pulled out her wand, balancing it on her palm with a muttered ‘Point Me Wormtail’, a shocked look on her face at the sudden spin of the wand to point off to the north and slightly west. In her position, she was privy to the names of known Werewolves, so knew full well about Remus Lupin’s affliction. She’d also heard the nicknames bandied about while the four were at Hogwarts, through the rumor mill. It had never occurred to her how the pieces fit together, since she hadn’t considered the childhood nicknames as more than nicknames, but if they were all unregistered animagi, it would certainly explain why her wand was pointing off towards the inland.

Grasping her wand again, she pulled out her wand and tapped it to her badge, quickly speaking into it in a hushed tone. “I’ve summoned an auror I trust, a magical police officer. I’ll want a witness when I run a rat down,” she said, looking back to the boy who was, she feared, going to rapidly turn her red hair grey. “Any more amazing revelations you want to upturn my world with, Mister Potter?” she asked with a wry tone.

“Well,” he said, reaching into the pocket of the pajamas that the hospital had changed him into and pulling out a cube, before he reached in again and hesitated. “Umm, House Bones and House Potter are still allies, right?” he asked nervously.

With a lift of her brow, she nodded, “Yes, Mister Potter. I’ve neither seen nor heard anything that would have changed that,” she assured, only to gasp in shock when the boy pulled a wand out of his pocket as well. “How..I know for a fact that there was nothing in those pajama pockets,” she said.

The little boy on the bed just giggled, “It’s magic, Madam Bones!” he replied with some of his father’s mischief in his tone and expression, before he fiddled with the cube and set it on the foot of the bed, before pressing the center of a lily flower on it. The cube expanded out into a full sized trunk, which he opened up, “This was Mom’s,” he explained quietly, his voice heavy in the moment. “She enchanted it to follow me to wherever I was living, because she was afraid her and Dad wouldn’t make it. She also made it pretty much indestructible. My Aunt and Uncle had hidden it up in the attic where I wouldn’t find it.” Raising a hand and quickly wiping the tears away that had started to fall, he quickly moved a few of the books around and pulled out two folded and wax sealed pieces of parchment. “I don’t think their wills were followed,” he said, handing them over to her. “Could you. Could you help me fix that? I haven’t gotten to read them yet. There’s also this,” he said, passing her the letter that Dumbledore had left in the basket with him that morning. “I have a feeling that I don’t want to read it.”

Taking the envelope and reading the addressee, and easily recognizing the hand writing, Amelia nodded. “I understand,” she said quietly. Tucking the wills as well as the letter from Dumbledore into her robe, she looked up at a knock on the door. Standing she lead two men and a woman inside, before closing the door. “Mr. Potter, these three are Auror’s Scrimgeour, Hammer and Proudfoot,” with each of them nodding in turn. Scrimgeour, Harry vaguely recognized, but the memory was just image and name, without particularly good or bad connotations, while the other two he didn’t recognize at all. “Auror Hammer is going to remain here on guard, any time I’m not present. Absolutely no one except for Poppy Pomfrey or Healer Smethwick as backup, is to enter this room. I don’t care if it’s Albus Dumbledore, Minister Bagnold or Merlin himself.”

“Careful now, Acting Director,” drawled Scrimgeour in amused tone, “keep talking like that and they’re going to make the position permanent or something equally horrible,” drawing a snort and eyeroll from Amelia.

“Scrimgeour, Proudfoot, you’re with me. Proudfoot, you’re our best tracker. You’re hunting a rat named Wormtail. Scrimgeour, you’re on takedown. Unregistered animagus.” She paused and looked towards Harry, narrowing her eyes, “you know where he is, don’t you,” she said in an almost accusing tone.

Harry gave a little shrug, “I’m just a kid, how would I know something like that?” he asked with an air of artful innocence. “I mean, if it was an otter or a polecat, instead of a rat, I might have an idea. I’m sure he’d be hiding in a Wizarding home though, don’t you think? Probably a large family, where it would be easy to go unnoticed in the chaos. Maybe even as a pet.” He considered, “but there aren’t that many really large wizarding families, are there, Madam Acting Director?”

“Bloody hell, come on, we have to stop by the ministry and collect Arthur before we go raid his home,” she groused as she headed out the door with Scrimgeour and Proudfoot in tow.

Meanwhile, Connie Hammer closed the door before taking up position just inside it, “Seems like this detail is going to be entertaining, if nothing else,” she said with a wink to the boy sitting on the bed. “Need a hand putting the trunk away?”

“No ma’am, thank you though,” he said, looking through the books within and selecting one of his mothers first year journals before closing and reshrinking the trunk, returning it to his pocket and settling back on the bed to read, only to be interrupted by the arrival of dinner. By the time he’d eaten, the potions and long day were catching up with him again, and he fell asleep holding the precious journal.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

When he awoke the next morning, it was to the sound of his door opening again as Amelia and Pomfrey came in, Pomfrey carrying a tray with potions vials and breakfast upon it. “Well, Mister Potter, it looks like your sources of information are quite accurate. There’s a certain rodent like little man sitting in a secure cell and suffering the after effects of quite a lot of veritaserum this morning. A redheaded gentleman expressed his hope that he would be able to thank the ‘anonymous informant’ who had protected his family. It seems the rodent in question was the pet of his third child, a nine year old boy who had no reason to suspect his pet was anything out of the ordinary. I’m afraid it was quite a shock to the whole family, as we arrived just in time for dinner.” She shook her head, “In addition, I’ve pulled the records of the trial we spoke of,” she said, passing him a thin file folder. “This is a copy of the entire record and transcript,” he opened it, looking at the ‘Transfer to Azkaban’ order inside and then back up to her with a smirk. “Yes, yes, you’re certainly your mother’s son with that look. There was no trial, I’m having him transferred into a holding cell pending a proper trial. We’ll put him on trial immediately after the rat, I sent a letter to his grandfather last night explaining that there was possibly a miscarriage of justice, and that there was no proper trial. Regardless of anything else, the old man is a staunch supporter of the rights of the great houses, especially his own. The idea that his last male descendent might be in prison without having been properly tried sent him into a righteous rage. He’s demanded a full assembly of the Wizengamot for Monday morning at eight to ‘sit in judgment of persons or persons who have perpetrated a gross miscarriage of justice against an Ancient and Most Noble House’ as he put it. That gives us today to put all of our things in order and accomplish everything we can. Poppy, how soon can you release your patient?”

“Well, Mister Potter is healing fast. Remarkably fast in fact, to the extent that I have a hard time explaining it. I thought for sure the only way to heal the arm was going to be to vanish the bone and regrow it with Skelegro, but by the time we checked him at midnight the arm was already mending. The older wounds have also responded extremely well to treatment, I’d say that by the time he finishes breakfast and this round of potions, he could be ready for discharge. However, I’ll want to do a follow up examination tomorrow evening, and you’ll need to floo me if there is any sign of relapse.” Looking to Harry she smiled, “and you, young man, will need to stay out of trouble for a week or so, preferably longer. I don’t want to hear you’ve been trying to play pickup quidditch or any such nonsense.”

“Yes Madam Pomfrey,” Harry replied with a small smile, sitting up and tucking the journal he’d been going to start reading into his pocket, where it slipped into his inventory storage instead. While Pomfrey lifted an eyebrow, Madam Bones didn’t even seem to react to the large journal vanishing into his pajama pocket.

“Well then, why don’t you finish up breakfast while the two of us go take care of a few details, and I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes. Once you’re done eating, I had Auror Hammer pick you up something more appropriate to wear,” she said, motioning to a bag sitting on the table beside his bed.

“Yes Ma’am,” he replied, before asking as the two were moving to leave, “then what?”

“Then, Mister Potter, we’re going to go turn the ministry upside down, shake it real hard, and see just what comes falling out.”

Chapter Text

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Harry’s thoughts skittered about rapidly as he got dressed, flitting from development to development. His family had planned extensively about how to snag the rat, get Sirius out of prison and Moony out of the bottle as quickly as possible, but they’d never hoped things would go quite this well. There really hadn’t been any way to expect he’d be able to escape so quickly or find an ally so readily at hand. Now though, things were in motion and outside of his control on several fronts and, intellectually, he knew this would skew quite a lot of the knowledge he had still to unlock considerably. He was tempted, however briefly, to start unlocking more of his memories from after he started Hogwarts, but stuck to the warnings of his angel and the urging of his parents. Alora and Iggy had both said he should wait at least a few months between each ‘unlock’ to allow time for the memories to assimilate, while his parents had urged him not to look more than two years ahead, worried about the impact on him as well as the strain it would put on keeping his charade up as a child.

It was, he mused, a very valid worry. His thoughts and schemes were already far too sophisticated for a child of five, and he was fairly sure that if he dumped his seventeen year old memories in there as well, there’d be no hope at all. So he stayed away from the memories, as he considered where to spend the three ability points he’d picked up. He thought briefly about the magical abilities tree, but quickly decided against that route for the time being. He would need the strength to be gained there one day, but for now, what he needed were allies and opportunities. A way to help influence things to get Sirius free and get himself into the custody of someone trustworthy at least, preferably an ally if he couldn’t manage Sirius. He needed to get contact with his party members as soon as possible, so that he could start working to develop not just his skills but theirs.

His attention moved towards the ability trees having to do with Wizarding Britain, looking at the options available. His purchase of ‘Wizarding Etiquette’ had unlocked new options, such as ‘Silver Spoon’ which would give him the knowledge he’d have learned as the first born of a house of high nobility, growing up in said house. ‘Born to Rule’ was greyed out, apparently having to do with house alliances and the like, but requiring him to have unlocked the first tier of the Wizengamot tree as well. ‘First Among Peers’ apparently granted a significant bonus to charisma when dealing with other nobility of his own generation, while ‘Favored Son’ would grant him bonuses when dealing with anyone who could claim blood relationship to him within 6 steps on a family tree⁽¹⁾. His attention was also drawn to the branches off of the Ministry of Magic base skill. It seemed that the knowledges there were divided by department, with ‘DMLE’ immediately splitting off to ‘Aurors’ and ‘Legal’, ‘Transportation’, ‘Accidents and Catastrophies’, ‘Creatures’, ‘International Magical Cooperation’, ‘Games and Sports’, ‘Education’ and shockingly, even ‘Mysteries’.

Not wanting to be hasty, he did take time to look over the rest of the trees quickly, noticing a few options that branched off from his ‘Healthy Upbringing’ that would work to improve his physical characteristics. He avoided those for now, but gave serious consideration again to ‘Excellent Education’ before deciding to hold off still. He wondered if it was possible to unlock an ability through effort and opportunity, and that was one that depending on how the next few days played out, he might be able to gain that way. Reasoning that if he felt he hadn’t achieved a good enough mundane education, he could always buy it before he went to Hogwarts, he held off for the time being still. Instead, he invested points into ‘Silver Spoon’ and ‘Favored Son’, thinking that if the head of the House of Black was in play those abilities might prove a deciding factor. Especially considering the very upscale wizarding child’s robes that Amelia had arranged for him, which might hint that he wouldn’t be ‘hiding’ his identity as much as he might have expected. Deciding that it might be a good practice to keep a ‘backup point’ in his character sheet in case of a development, he held off assigning the last ability and closed out of the abilities interface.

He’d finished dressing, and immediately assigned his new ‘Upscale Wizarding Child’ outfit in place of the no longer present hand me downs outfit from his time with the Dursley’s. He was fairly certain that the scraps he’d had on when he was brought in had been destroyed, and even more certain he never wanted to see, much less wear, them again. Figuring he’d spent enough time getting ready, he was just considering going to peek out and see if Amelia was back when she knocked lightly and opened the door to peek in.

“All set?” she asked, spotting him fully dressed and coming in the rest of the way, closing the door behind her. “Much better, Mister Potter,” she said approvingly as she lightly adjusted his collar with a critical eye. It occurred to Harry that she wasn’t yet wearing her monocle, and to wonder when she’d pick it up. “Now then, it’s technically against the law to use any sort of appearance concealing or changing magics within the Ministry of Magic, so there’s nothing we can do to hide who you are since you’re one of the most recognizable personages in Wizarding Britain.”

“But how?” he asked, “I mean, I was never allowed to be in pictures at my relatives house, so how would anyone know what I look like?” he asked curiously. It was, admittedly, a more honest question than most of the ones he’d asked her. He never had really understood how it was that people recognized him with him having been banished to the muggle world.

Smiling sadly, her voice was quiet as she answered, “I imagine you’re going to hear this a lot, Harry, but the extent to which you looked like your father at his age is…uncanny.” And he truly had heard it a lot, though he’d never really seen it as much as others claimed to. He’d always seen himself as a sort of pale, small echo of his dad, but the thought made him realize that with the effect of a healthy upbringing courtesy of his ability, he likely did look even more like James Potter. “If your grandmother Dorea⁽²⁾ was still around, I dare say I’d have to warn her and give her a calming drought before taking you to meet her, or the shock would likely be incredibly unhealthy. If the pictures weren’t in color and were sitting side by side, I don’t think you’d be able to tell which was you and which was your father, except for that mark on your forehead.”

Giving a little nod and gulping, as the conversation made him think of his family and the time he’d gotten to spend with them, it took him a moment to reply. “So how do we avoid it being bad?” he asked.

“Well, I’ll tell you something that thieves, police and politicians, which are just a different sort of thief,” she said with a wink, “all know. Sometimes, when you can’t be sneaky, you just have to be bold.” She smiled then, “so we’re going to walk down to the apparition point like we own the whole hospital, Connie’s waiting outside and will be right in front. You’ll need to hold my hand and hang on tightly, and it’ll feel sort of like you’re being squeezed all over for a second. Then we’ll be in the Ministry of Magic, and we just keep walking like we own the place. You don’t stop unless I tell you to stop, you just keep following me or Connie, whichever is still walking, if someone tries to delay us. Can you do that for me, Harry?”

With an apprehensive look, he nodded, “Good. Now, we’re going to apparate into a part of the Ministry that only the DMLE can go to, so you won’t be walking through the main gallery. But, there’s no real way to get you out of the hospital without being seen, since the apparition point and floo entrance are both just off of the main lobby and street entrance. So it’s likely there’s going to be…a bit of a fuss as we head out, and then reporters are going to turn the Ministry of Magic into a mad house. If anyone you don’t recognize from the group of Auror’s you’ve met tries to talk to you or pull you off somewhere, I want you to scream like you’re being kidnapped, okay?” Harry nodded solemnly, already starting to feel nervous at the whole concept, since he’d never liked crowds or being stared at. “Good, don’t worry, it won’t be as bad as all that I hope, but I’d rather be over prepared than under prepared,” she said reassuringly before offering her hand. “Now then, Mister Potter, let’s be about it, we’ve lots to do today!”

Taking her hand, he squared his little shoulders and then went out into the hallway. Following Auror Hammer, Harry was thankful that the two seemed to be moving with a more deliberate rather than speedy pace, so that his shorter legs could keep up. After a couple of hallways and sets of doors, along with one set of stairs, they emerged into a lobby he’d seen once before. There were only a few people present thankfully, with it being still fairly early on a Sunday morning, as they passed through towards the apparition point and Amelia reached her hand out for him to take. He turned slightly as he took her hand, gripping it, and heard a gasp of shock from a middle aged woman sitting nearby as she stared wide eyed. Then, they were through into the apparition area and he felt the familiar ‘squeeze’ of being pulled through an apparition side-along.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, since he had only the vaguest recollections of ‘dislike’ for wizarding travel in general, but he guessed it was about what it would feel like being flushed very quickly down a toilet, with a bit less of the spinning and no water. A twisting sort of sensation, a squeeze and a moment of disorientation, and then he was in a well lit room that had a half dozen fireplaces on one wall, two large doorways off of the second, and a single large hallway leading off of the other two. His knees trembled a bit, but he managed to keep his feet with a bit of a support from Amelia’s hand, before they were moving again. Apparently, Amelia had plans in place as Rufus Scrimgeuer and Alastor Moody were almost immediately falling into the formation on either side of him.

“Anyone make you?” growled out Moody, his eye spinning about taking in everything as he clomped along beside them, more spry and youthful than Harry remembered him. Still looking like he’d personally fought in a dozen wars and lost all of them, though.

“Carrin Addlesby,” Amelia said in frustration, “looked like she was in there waiting for someone, but she’s got a cousin at the Prophet and I’m betting the words already going out. Mister Potter, the grumpy old man who looks like he went six rounds with a dragon is Master Auror Alastor Moody, he was one of my instructors, along with a half dozen generations of aurors before me. Before that, I have it on good authority that he was getting ready to retire when a promising kid named Merlin showed up, so he decided to stick around just a few more years to train him up.” Her comments drew quiet snorts from Hammer and Scrimgeuer, sounding amused.

“Bah, and let that be a lesson as to what can happen when someone actually listens to my advice,” he responded, sounding a bit amused but never letting up his hyper vigilant watchfulness as they passed into one of the large hallways.

Seeing Harry looking around, Rufus volunteered, “That was the Auror apparition room. This way leads into our offices, while the other large hall goes down to holding cells, where we take the bad guys. The double doors were for the locker rooms, so we can get changed.” He looked over and smiled, “it’s emptier right now than it would normally be, because it’s a Sunday morning, but there will still be a few people in the office. Don’t worry, they might be curious but they won’t bother you while you’re with us,” he assured, prompting a little nod and thankful smile from Harry.

“Is the person from Goblin Liaison here yet with their representative?” Amelia asked.

“Set up in three, lass. I got Cresswell, he’s not the most senior but he actually speaks their language and knows their customs, unlike several others in the office,” groused Moody as they passed through a large open office area with numerous desks spread out and several doors and windows set into the walls. There were indeed a few people present, wearing the same sorts of robes as Scrimgeuer and Hammer that marked them as aurors, who looked their way with various expressions of surprise. Harry noticed that more than a few didn’t even seem to notice him in the middle of the group, seeming focused on the gathering as a whole which Harry realized were probably already the ‘upper echelon’ of the department, and moving through with the clear air of people on a mission.

“Good, I’m fairly certain I’m on good legal ground for our side of things, but the Goblin’s get touchy. Harry, first thing we’re going to do is have your parents will’s read out, which involves the Bank of Gringotts, which is run by goblins. Will’s are one of the few areas where Gringott’s and the Ministry share joint jurisdiction…” pausing she added, “meaning they have to talk to one another and agree on something rather than either of them just getting to decide. Now, I know he might look a little scary, and he might say some not nice things about all sorts of people. But I don’t want you to get scared or upset, okay? He won’t harm you, and for the most part their culture views children as innocent and any blame for their behavior falls upon their guardians.”

Harry was briefly tempted to ask if he could get his Aunt and Uncle into trouble, but decided against the risk and nodded his understanding as the group stopped in front of a door labeled ‘3’ on the front. Amelia rapped twice on it with a single knuckle at the same time as she opened the door and walked in, Harry ushered in behind her as everyone but Hammer filed into the room, as she took up a position outside the door.

“Cresswell, Master Goblin, thank you both for coming out this morning,” Amelia began as she moved to the table in the center of the room. At it a goblin was sitting, though not one that Harry recognized, as well as a human that he didn’t recognize. Like Hammer, these two appeared to be people that he hadn’t encountered in his previous lifetime at all, considering his ‘Essential’ memories had included a sort of visual database of everyone he knew a name and face for, as well as a ‘feeling’ for them if he had an opinion. He did, however, note that Mister Cresswell looked a bit nervous, an expression that only increased as his eyes fell on Harry.

“Ah.. Madam Bones,” Cresswell said, “I have the..honor of introducing you to Ragnok, Fifth of his name and First Son of Garnok the Second, Grand Director of Gringotts,” he said with more than a little trepidation to his tone. Amelia’s eyes shot over to Cresswell, then back to the goblin with a deep nod of her head, eyes a little wider. Harry could understand why, since in human terms the goblin would be something akin to a Prince, which made Harry wonder why he was here without an escort of any kind. Cresswell continued, “Ragnok, Son of Garnok, I have the honor of making known to you Lady Regent Amelia Bones, of the Most Noble House of Bones, Guardian of the Ossuary and Keeper of the Sixth Dirge, Acting Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for the Ministry of Magic of Great Britain and Ireland.” Harry lifted a brow at the full titles, and noticed that Amelia seemed a bit surprised at mention of the Ossuary and Dirge, filing the terms away for further research. For his part, Ragnok returned the respectful nod.

As Amelia seemed to pause as though gathering her thoughts, Ragnok interrupted whatever she was going to say. “Lady Regent, it is not my intention or purpose here to test your knowledge of my customs, nor to rigorously attempt to adhere to your own. Let us instead to our purpose, and if anyone asks, we’ll all lie to them about how exquisitely polite and courteous we all were to one another. Matters move apace, and honor is more important than courtesy. Your message prompted another to be sent by the former account manager of the accounts I believe we will speak of today, before my father became aware of the happenings and assumed direct administrative oversight of the situation to see to certain personnel readjustments. As such, I expect a challenge to be forthcoming as soon as your Minister Bagnold can be rousted to action. Have you the documents?”

“Damn. Rufus, go see if you can sow some confusion and keep things moving slow, also get a memo to Transportation and see if you can get them to run a maintenance check on the Ministry floo’s, that’ll buy a half hour since Bagnold can’t apparate any more.”

“That’s cold,” Rufus chided, before turning and heading out.

Amelia ignored him as she pulled the two sealed wills out of her robe and placed them on the table. “The Last Will and Testaments of James Charlus Potter and Lily Jasmine Potter nee Evans,” she said, her voice solemn. “By my authority as Acting Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I declare the contents of these wills to be material evidence of crimes by various parties against the person of Harry James Potter, in the investigation charges of criminal abuse of a minor wizard, criminal abuse of a minor wizard of a Most Noble House, and criminal abuse of the Heir of a Most Noble House. As these wills remain sealed and unexecuted, and as the contents of these wills are believed to bear direct evidence to the authority or responsibility of certain persons with regards to the aforementioned minor child, I hereby direct that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement appoint a custodian executor to the wills and cause them to be immediately unsealed and executed. As Acting Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I assign Lady Regent Amelia Bones of the House of Bones as Custodian Executor of the wills of James Charlus Potter and Lily Jasmine Potter nee Evans.” The wax seals on the two wills on the table flashed a bright gold light, causing a triumphant grin to appear on Amelia’s face before she looked towards Ragnok, “As Custodian Executor of the wills of James Charlus Potter and Lily Jasmine Potter nee Evans, I submit my formal request to the representative of Gringott’s Wizarding Bank to cause the seals upon these two wills to be broken, and to immediately read them into record pursuant to execution. I further request four certified copies of each will to be placed into evidence for pending criminal trials.”

Ragnok, who had sat quietly through the series of legal declarations, waited till the very end, watching Amelia before giving a slight nod. “As the appointed representative of Gringott’s Bank, I formally recognize the authority of Lady Regent Amelia Bones as  Custodian Executor of the Last Will and Testament of James Charlus Potter and Lily Jasmin Potter nee Evans.” The seals flashed gold again, as the magic binding the wills sealed recognized the change. Then, reaching out one long fingered hand, the goblin tapped each of the two wax seals, causing both to shatter and crumble away into sparkles of light. “Custodian Executor, I would venture to guess you wish an immediate private reading of these wills and then to schedule a public reading for the named parties at a subsequent time?”

“Yes, I would tentatively suggest this Wednesday, at a convenient time for yourself, during the regular business hours of Gringott’s Bank,” she deferred.

“Very well,” he motioned and two chairs appeared to grow up out of the stone floor of the room, forming comfortable looking seats, “Please be seated, Custodian Executor, Mister Potter. Custodian Executor, it is your decision who beyond yourself and Mister Potter, as primary beneficiary of the wills, shall be present for the reading.”

Amelia looked to Harry, who just shrugged slightly, then glanced to Cresswell, “Cresswell, there’s going to be fallout for this, as I’m sure you’ve guessed. All things considered, I think you should make yourself scarce.”

If anything, the man looked relieved. “Yes Ma’am,” he said with a quick nod, before looking to Ragnok and saying something in gobbledegook, to which the goblin gave a slight nod of his head that seemed like a dismissal, after which the man headed out the door.

The goblin, once he was gone, looked amused. “His accent is atrocious, but he at least gives earnest effort and honest respect, a rare thing among your kind. You would do well to urge Mockridge to retire sooner, rather than later, and to push the advancement of Cresswell, it would greatly improve relations with the people of Gringotts.” Then, his attention focused back upon the wills before him. “Now then, shall we ruin some peoples mornings?”

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Ragnok was just finishing reading his mother’s will, having already gone through his father’s, when a slip of paper shot under the door of the room and folded back into a paper airplane, flying over to Amelia and landing in front of her as it flattened out again. She quickly read it and then grinned, “Too late,” she said, as though in response to the paper’s message. “Ragnok, my sincere thanks to you and Gringott’s for your expediency. If you would provide the certified copies for me, I imagine Cresswell is waiting outside and I’ll assign two guards to escort you so that you can get out of here before the shouting really starts. For that matter, better make it ten copies, feel free to bill the office of the Minister for Magic for them.” As the goblin grinned and waved a longfingered hand over the wills, causing duplicate copies to appear in a small stack, she looked towards Moody. “Alastor, I need these in the trial folders for the rat and the godfather. Harry, you’re with me for now.”

They all, including Ragnok, trooped out into the hallway outside of the smallish room and into the office area for the DMLE and Aurors. There were more people present now, and Amelia let out a shrill whistle to gather everyones attention. “Listen up people,” she called out loudly, spotting Rufus coming in from the other end of the room she called out, “As of..” and she paused to look at her watch before continuing, “9:23 am, February 9^th, 1986 I’m invoking Section 26.3 paragraph 3 of the Charter of Governance for the Ministry of Magic of Great Britain and Ireland, and taking command of the Ministry of Magic pending the conclusion of criminal proceedings.” A shocked gasp ran through the assembled aurors. “Scrimgeuer, take Williamson and McInty and detain Millicent Bagnold on charges of dereliction of duty, subverting the legal process, crimes against the noble houses and aiding and abetting the abuse of a minor child, with more charges to follow. Lock down the offices of the Minister until we can get an investigative team through there.” Everyone looked shocked, as the announcement was made, but Amelia just bulled on. “Dawlish, go find me Arcturus Black and get him to my office, I’d wager he’s either looking for Bagnold to tear strips off of her, or bullying the clerks in the Wizengamot offices to try and rush through motions for the sittings tomorrow. Then go request that Lady Dowager Longbottom comes in as well, when she’s stubborn, tell her I said to feel free to wear her dueling robes.” Harry might have been imagining it, but he thought that the Aurors looked more worried about Augusta Longbottom in dueling robes than the idea of arresting the sitting Minister for Magic. “Moody, as soon as you’re done with your errand, take a team of five and arrest Barty Crouch on the same charges as Bagnold. Proudfoot and Savage, you drew the short straw, find out if Dumbledore is here at the Ministry or at Hogwarts for his meddling this fine morning. If he’s at the Ministry, arrest him, if he’s at Hogwarts, invite him to clear things up then arrest him when you all get here.” She looked over towards her office and saw that her secretary had arrived, “Janice, get down to the Wizengamot offices and file notice of three more trials for tomorrows docket, and make sure that they send the notices a second time with the updated information, then get Greengrass in here.” She stopped at that point, looking around. “Well why are you people still here!?” she called out, “Move it!” which finally set off a scramble as people started to move quickly towards tasks they’d been assigned.

Stalking through the DMLE towards her own office, she flicked her wand towards a duty board on the wall, and all of the scheduling markers besides a very few who appeared to be at the very beginning of the ‘off duty’ section, which Harry guessed meant they were on duty the night before, suddenly jumped to ‘Called In’. Looking around she called out, “Durkin, I want you on the duty desk until Rufus gets back to organize people. We need at least four to run rodeo on the press who can keep their mouths shut. I want two on guard in the Minister’s offices, arrest any of her people who try to get in or tamper and put them in holding cells until we can sort things out. Let’s get a half dozen to Diagon Alley and keep a presence for the next few days, as things are going to get hectic.” Ushering Harry into her office, she motioned to a seat to one side, smiling slightly. “Well, Mister Potter, we’re in the deep of it now.”

Harry raised both eyebrows as he moved to sit down, nodding slightly, utterly flabbergasted. This went so far beyond what he and his family had planned that he didn’t even know how to start wrapping his head around it, only managing, “Are you sure you aren’t going to get in trouble? I mean, isn’t this effectively a coup?”

Amelia smirked slightly, “Not really, that clause of the charter exists for pretty much this exact scenario. When a Minister of Magic is implicated in a criminal offense of a magnitude to involve incarceration of more than a few days, the Minister’s office is suspended pending either exoneration or removal. Now then, we have a few minutes, so let’s take a moment to catch up on a few things. Tell me, Mister Potter, were you aware that there’s a book in the Department of Mysteries that records the names of all Seers in the territory of the Ministry of Magic when they have their first vision?” Harry could feel his face pale and his pulse quicken, unable to hide the surprise from his face. “Would you like to know what I found in that book when I looked into it last night, Mister Potter? Or rather, what I didn’t find in it?”

He gulped, “I…can’t imagine..” he started, “I.. Didn’t lie. Not exactly.”

She smirked, “Oh no, I’m well aware of that. Evidence is the best proof of truth there is, besides there’s not actually a book that records all seers, if there was the Ministry would probably have them all under lock and key. I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, considering the level of corruption you’ve basically handed to me on a silver platter Mister Potter, nor am I going to force answers out of you as to where your information is coming from. Yet. I’ve confirmed through various means that you are really who you say you are, and those wounds weren’t fake, so I’m willing to forgive all of this because if I were in your shoes I’d do anything and everything it took to get away from those…people. However, in the future any of these little ‘revelations’ of yours will need a better explanation than ‘I had a weird dream’, am I clear?” She then smiled, “which is not saying I don’t want you to keep up with these little revelations, I’d rather you just tell me you’re not going to tell me how you know, if that’s the case.”

Harry breathed a little sigh of relief, nodding, his pulse rate still up quite a bit before it suddenly spiked all the more as a figure in a blue robe appeared in the room, despite the door never having opened. Amelia gave a little start, but didn’t take any action other than to growl out, “Croaker if that’s you and you’ve put listening charms in my office again I’m going to hex something you’re fond of off of you!” in frustration.

The figure put it’s hood down, revealing an amused looking man who Harry would guess was somewhere in his fifties, though admittedly it was hard to tell age with Wizards. He tskd, “Don’t be ridiculous, Amelia. I tagged a listening charm onto your shoe when you brought Pettigrew in last night. It was such an out of nowhere arrest with no scuttlebutt preceding it, that I was curious. Now you’re in here with one of our highest priority Subjects of Interest, talking about seers and knowledge. Figured you’d rather me come look into it than to let the report fall onto someone’s desk you didn’t have such a good working relationship with.”

“Damnit Saul!” she exclaimed, casting two scanning spells over her shoes and only getting a meager response for a residue as though she had trod through some sort of residual magic. The unspeakables listening charms were, after all, the best in the business and near impossible to detect. Pulling the shoe off she banished it at the man, who leaned slightly to one side to avoid getting hit, “take that charm off of my shoe or I’m going to put it somewhere where all you’ll hear is what you had for dinner last night,” she growled.

“Do forgive me Mister Potter, my colleague gets grouchy when she doesn’t have her morning coffee before inciting a coup,” he said with a flick of his wand towards the offending shoe, which reappeared on top of Amelia’s desk. “Now then, let’s have a look at you,” he said, pulling something from an inside robe of his pocket and fitting it to his eye. As he did, Harry suddenly realized it was a monocle, remembering his thoughts from early that morning and grinning. Saul, seeing the grin lifted his other eyebrow, “Something amusing, Mister Potter?” he asked.

“Nope!” Harry said, popping the p sound and waiting.

With a harrumph, the unspeakable looked him over before leaning in closer with a gasp, “Oh. Oh my… Well now that is definitely interesting,” he said quietly.

“What’s interesting Saul, and I’ll remind you I’m currently acting as your defacto superior when I ask that question.”

“Do you know an aura revealing spell?” the Unspeakable asked, getting a shake of her head to which he removed his monocle and passed it to her. “Take a look,” he said then. “Specifically take a look at what used to be his scar, and wait for the runic readout to translate.”

Amelia got up and came around, leaning to look and making Harry feel just vaguely uncomfortable, grumbling, “I’m not a zoo exhibit.”

Neither Croaker or Amelia seemed at all embarrassed as Croaker said, “Of course not, zoo exhibits are boring.”

“Wait.. Divine magic? What does that mean?” she asked, turning to Croaker and holding the monocle out to return it.

He waved a hand, “Keep it, I have another one and I daresay it’ll come in handy when you’re promoted, if you aren’t fired in the next forty eight hours.” He glanced back to Harry, catching his grin out of the corner of his eye. “As to the magic, it means that our young Mister Potter here has been places and seen things that I imagine he can’t tell you about, even if he were to try to.” He reached into his robe and pulled out a short metal rod and a bell, “just in case anyone were to try,” he said before striking the bell with the rod. Strangely, the bell didn’t ring at all but all of the noise in the room seemed to vanish instead, as Croaker spoke. “Harry James Potter, I, Saul Croaker of the Department of Mysteries hereby sanction the knowledge of where and when your knowledge comes from, as well as the nature of the magic tied to the place where once you bore a curse scar upon your forehead, to be Unspeakable. By neither word nor intent, nor by invasion of your mind, may you make known to another that which may not be spoken.” He tapped the bell with the metal rod again, and this time it rang before all the other ambient noises suddenly flooded back in.

Able to talk again, Harry blurted in a panic, “WAIT! I have to be able to tell my soul mate!” as he surged up out of his chair, throwing the already gobsmacked Amelia and Croaker both for a loop before Croaker threw his head back and let out a bark of laughter.

“Oh Amelia, I like this one, he’s going to be so much fun!” the Unspeakable declared, “Don’t worry Mister Potter, I believe that the deep magics of the bond will over rule the Unspeakable Sanction. If there’s a problem though, owl me and I can grant you dispensation.”

Harry, realizing that he’d just revealed even more than the Unspeakable had clearly been able to figure out, blanched a bit but nodded, sitting back down. Amelia, for her part, seemed to have gotten her shock under control. “Okay. So…okay. Harry, what I said earlier, ignore. From now on your cover story is absolutely that you have dreams where you are told things. Don’t be shy about them either,” she looked towards Saul, “I’m assuming you’re effectively corroborating his ‘source’ as it were?”

The Unspeakable shrugged, “Yes and no. I can’t actually give you anything more specific, because I don’t know, and this falls under the heading of ‘things we aren’t meant to know’. However, considering that Mister Potter here appears to have received some form of intervention by a power from a higher plane of existence, the nature of which we aren’t privy to, and that I’m seeing a staticky fuzz of temporal magic around his head that seems to have oriented primarily on the new version of his famous scar, not to mention that he looked like a kid on Christmas morning when I gave you that monocle? Yeah, I’d say we can probably assume he’s a legitimate source.”

Harry smirked at the man as only a child can do, before looking over to Amelia and giving her a big smile, “I really do think it will complete your look, Auntie Amelia,” he said with his most innocent expression on his face.

“Cheeky little bugger,” Amelia muttered, before slipping the monocle into the breast pocket of her robe, before a tap at the door kept her from saying anything more. Croaker’s hood was immediately up, making it impossible to see his face as Janice, Amelia’s secretary poked her head in.

“Madame Bones, Lord Bl…” but she was cut off from finishing as an old man with a cane stampeded into the room, looking like a thundercloud. He was dressed impeccably, if very old fashioned, with his gray hair back and a short trimmed goatee. A carved golden raven formed the handle of his cane, and Harry immediately though of Malfoy’s cane, then realized that his looked like a gaudy attempt at imitation by comparison to this one, which managed to look elegant and refined.

“What in the name of the ancients are you playing at, Bones, and where the hell is my Grandson!” the man demanded, not even seeming to care that an Unspeakable was in the room, was being the opportune word as Croaker simply faded back out of the room, making Harry wonder what sort of magic he was using to do it.

Giving a wave to Janice that it was fine, Amelia stood up and gave a polite nod, “Lord Black, a pleasure as always. Did you want to shout some more, I hear that it’s good for the circulation after all, or would you like to sit down and act civil and I’ll answer your questions? I thought you might also be interested in meeting your grandson’s godson, who happens to be the grandson of your cousin Dorea. I’m sure you’re making a wonderful first impression on the next Lord Potter with your shouting and blustering.”

Chapter Text

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Harry stood up from the small seat that he’d been in so far, stepping towards the complete stranger. He knew absolutely nothing of this man, not really, other than that he had apparently not disowned Sirius from the family when Sirius’ mother tried to do so, and that he had named Sirius his heir. Whether that was through preference or lack of options, Harry couldn’t be sure. Presumably, he could have passed Sirius over in favor of Draco from the start, if he were so inclined. Sirius, in his memories of the childhood spent with his family in the other world, hadn’t known anything about Arcturus’ motivations since the man died a couple of years before his escape from Azkaban, a subject he generally avoided talking about anyway.

What Harry was sure of, especially with a quest prompting such, was that this man would be either a tremendous ally or a significant inconvenience. Deciding to roll the dice on his ‘adorable’ factor, he looked up into the old mans eyes with his large green eyes before giving a small bow. “I’ve been reading my Mom’s journals from school, so I know that I’m supposed to be formal and call you ‘Great Grandfather’ or something, sir. But, I’ve never had a ‘Grampa’ before, and I’d really like it if I could call you that?” he asked. He didn’t even have to fake the hopeful look in his eyes, as he realized suddenly that this was really true. He had never had a grandfather, the closest thing being a certain headmaster that had far too much baggage for a real relationship. Seeing the man’s eyes harden and a moment of disapproval, he cursed himself as he felt his eyes betray him, beginning to get a bit wet.

Surprisingly, it was that vulnerability that seemed to get through to the man, who’s expression softened a bit as he reached out his hand and laid it on Harry’s shoulder. “I think I’d like that, lad,” he said quietly, voice softer now. “You know, you’re the spitting image of your father at your age? Charlus and I, that’s your Grampa Potter, may have disagreed on politics but the man loved to show off pictures of his boy.”

Harry smiled a bit, blinking away the stinging in his eyes, “Will you tell me about them? My relatives that I’ve been living with never told me anything about my parents or grand parents,” he said quietly.

“Which is one of the things I’ll need to discuss with you, Lord Black,” cut in Amelia, “please, have a seat. I’ve had your grandson,” at which point she clarified with a small smile, “Sirius removed from Azkaban and placed in a comfortable and secure holding facility until the trial scheduled for tomorrow, and have a healer attending to his recovery. The preliminary report I’ve received is that he’s in remarkably good condition considering the ordeal he was put through, and far more mentally acute than most who suffer such fate.”

With a ‘harrumph’ the old man sat down, before patting the second chair in front of Bones’ desk for Harry. Sitting leaned forward in his own chair, with both hands resting on the pommel of the cane he was holding he said simply one word, “Explain.”

Frowning slightly, Amelia looked at the man, “There are portions that I cannot disclose, as we are still conducting our investigation, and some which is privileged information until the trials tomorrow. Sirius will go on trial second. The first on trial will be Peter Pettigrew, a fact known to very few persons and which must not be spread about or we risk losing our advantage and our chance to see Sirius exonerated. He was discovered to be an unregistered animagus, and is a coward to boot. It didn’t take much of an interrogation to break him, and he admitted not only to the murders of the muggles and framing Sirius, but to being a marked death eater and having betrayed James and Lily Potter to Voldemort.”

Harry noted that, even with fewer years since the war ended, Amelia wasn’t one of those who seemed hesitant to say the bastards name with a surge of approval for the woman, but otherwise remained silent as she continued.

“Since then, we’ve also discovered that Sirius was never given an actual trial before. He was sent to Azkaban directly on orders of Minister Bagnold, countersigned by Bartemius Crouch and witnessed by Albus Dumbledore. As Minister Bagnold is implicated in numerous crimes through such action, I’ve invoked the charter sections to have her arrested and the office of the Minister suspended. Crouch had already been transferred from DMLE to International after the matter with his son lost the public’s confidence, so I’ve sent people to pick him up at home. Dumbledore is…more difficult. I’ve sent people to arrest him, but we’ll see how that goes. If he cooperates, it’ll look better on him, but if he decides to be oppositionist, I’ll have to take a large force to pull him out of Hogwarts, especially if the other professors rally around him as they well might. They’ll all be charged with the crimes against Sirius Black, as well as crimes against Harry here.”

Arcturus looked towards the boy, his face stern and eyes appraising before he looked back towards Amelia, “Tell me,” he said, looking back towards Amelia.

“It would, perhaps, be a matter better discussed another time,” she said hesitantly, seeming not to want to go over the matter with Harry in the room, eyes glancing towards him.

Harry noticed and a part of him appreciated the consideration. While he knew that he had memories of a nearly grown ‘him’ locked away and waiting, at this time he was an eleven year old boy in a five year old’s form, a far cry from ‘mature’. Another part of him though, immediately started getting upset, as he remembered what he had learned about Sirius’ childhood in his own childhood in the other world. It made him wonder if he really wanted this man beside him as a ‘grandfather’ figure after all, and his face heated a bit.

“It doesn’t matter to you, Grandfather Black,” he said, a bit more stiffly, “if what my mother wrote about Sirius in her school journals is any indication, it’s no worse than what Sirius’ parents put him through before he ran away. If you didn’t care about it happening to Sirius, you wouldn’t really care about it happening to me, would you?”

He couldn’t even look at the man, his bitterness and disappointment so complete in that moment, regret at the hope of a grandparent being taken away by the realization of what sort of man he must be. He didn’t see the look of hurt and brief moment of shame that passed over the mans face, or the clenching of his hands on the raven figure head of his cane. The anger swept away by sorrow, before he seemed to deflate slightly.

“I had no idea how Walburga was treating Sirius and Regulus,” he finally said, “Orion and I didn’t get on at all, and I knew Walburga was crazy, but I didn’t know what she was doing. The very first time I learned about it all, was when Charlus contacted me and asked for a private meeting. He showed me a healers report and pictures of Sirius, and told me what had been going on, and that he’d placed Sirius under the protection of House Potter and would declare blood feud if we opposed it. Your grandfather did ‘righteous anger’ very well, lad. And he was right. Warned me to get Regulas out of there, and I tried to, but he was wholly under his mother’s control and believed all her insane ranting.” He sighed quietly, “I used the family magics to bind her and keep her from being able to do any more bodily harm to Regulas, and then stripped her of her house elf and bound it to Regulas instead, with orders to listen to Walburga but to ignore any order that went against the wellbeing or orders of Regulas, and to protect Regulas from harm. It’s the most I could do, the law gave Orion and Walburga the right to discipline their kids how they saw fit. I ignored her demands to retrieve Sirius, knowing she wanted to kill him for defying her, and ignored the demand to disown him from the family. Charlus had a letter for him, he was supposed to give Sirius after I passed, when the Lordship passed to him. But things didn’t work out that way.”

At his words, Harry had turned, looking surprised and searching the mans face, trying to tell if he was lying about some part of his story. Finally, he nodded slightly, thinking that the old man was being sincere. He looked sad and tired, not at all the cantankerous old force that had stormed into Amelia’s office a short while earlier. After a few moments of silence he said quietly, “It’s okay Grampa Black. I think Sirius is going to need a grampa too, to help him feel better, so maybe you’ll get a second chance to be there when he needs you,” he finally said quietly. Looking to Amelia, he nodded slightly before standing up, “I need to go to the restroom, is it okay if I ask Miss Janice where it is?” he asked before heading for the door after her nod.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

As Auror Hammer escorted Harry back to Amelia’s office, after he took quite a while to finish up in the restroom, he noticed a woman in a set of robes that looked more like armor stalking towards Amelia’s office. There was no vulture topped hat on Augusta Longbottom, but Harry had to admit that ten years younger than he’d encountered her and dressed for trouble, she looked every inch the fierce and intimidating witch that Neville had always implied.

He got to the door ahead of her and paused, leaving himself in the way and looking at her with an artful confusion, “Why do your robes look different, Ma’am?” he asked with the artful innocence of a child, drawing the battle ready grandmother up with the question.

Looking down at the boy before raising her head slightly in a proud fashion, she said, “These are dueling robes, young man. They are worn to indicate that the wearer is prepared to step onto the dueling pist and see honor satisfied,” she explained. “How is it that the son of James Potter, does not recognize dueling robes?” she asked then, voice rising slightly to include Auror Hammer and Janice who were nearby, clearly intending to question them with the ominously asked demand.

Harry though derailed that entirely with a wide eyed expression and look of horror, “On no! You’re not mad at Auntie Amelia or Grampa Arcturus are you?” he asked, lip trembling a bit, “Please, they’re the first family I’ve ever had, I’m sure neither one meant to upset you, Ma’am.”

The question seemed to shock the older woman, on several levels. After a moment, her expression softened a bit, “Don’t worry, Mister Potter. I’m sure we’ll be able to work things out without any sort of problems,” she assured the boy, reaching out to pat his shoulder. “My Neville is about your age, maybe when things settle down a bit, you’d like to visit and meet him? I’m sure that he’d love to have a friend his own age to play with from time to time,” she said quietly.

“Ahh, Regent Longbottom, Madam Bones is in her office with Lord Black, but she had said to send you in as soon as you arrived,” Janice said.

Nodding, Augusta looked towards the two women, “You ladies look after the young man here, I’m sure like all little boys he’s probably hungry and just looking for the opportune moment to get into some  sort of mischief” she said with a small smile, giving Harry’s shoulder another pat before stepping away and moving into the office, closing the door back behind her.

“Phew,” exhaled Hammer, “thanks, kiddo. I thought she was gonna start cursing people for a second there, got a temper and a reputation, that one does.”

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

The next hour passed quietly, with Harry having a sandwich from the Ministry cafeteria that was brought up by a house elf that Janice called. She let him sit behind her desk with her, mostly hidden from view by the partition and desk, as various persons came and went. Eavesdropping on the conversations as people went in and out, Harry was able to glean that Bagnold and Crouch had both been apprehended and were in holding cells, awaiting interrogation. Unfortunately, it seemed keeping a five year old boy ‘read in’ on what was going on was low on the list of priorities for the various personages coming and going, so he had little more information than what he could catch from passing conversations.

As he was finishing his sandwiches, a distinguished looking gentleman with the touches of grey starting at his temples strode towards Amelia’s office with a definite sense of purpose. His robes were formal and looked to be of the highest quality, and yet he seemed to have none of the pompous arrogance of Harry’s memories of Lucius Malfoy, the closest analog in what he could remember. He could faintly recall having seen the man before, but had neither name nor intuition about the nature of the man or who he was. It was Janice who provided the context as she stood, picking up a small stack of parchments off of her desk.

“Ah, Lord Greengrass. Madam Bones is expecting you, but asked me to warn you that she has Lord Black and Dowager-Regent Longbottom in with her.”

The statement drew the man up short and his eyes widened, “That’s a strange pa…”he began, before his eyes noticed the small occupant behind the desk. “Good heavens, he looks just like James did,” he uttered, surprise evident on his face. To his credit, the man had the grace not to perform the eye-flick that Harry was already becoming somewhat accustomed to to seek the famous scar. Not that it was hard to see, with the somewhat silver gold sheen it had now. “Heir Potter, it’s a true pleasure,” he said quietly not seeming to pay heed to Janice’s attempt to usher him past and into the office. “While your father and I had many points of contention, we had just as many upon which we agreed. We are all less for the loss of him and your mother both. I hope you won’t hesitate to call upon House Greengrass if we can assist you in the future,” he said somewhat formally with a small bow.

Harry was, for a moment, at a loss as he realized that the phrasing the man had used came very close to an acknowledgement of a debt between houses, a realization he knew was due to the ‘Wizarding Etiquette’ skill he had invested in. Standing and giving a formal little bow of his own he said quietly, “I thank you, Lord Greengrass, for your kind words and will weigh carefully the need before calling on your generosity.” Not quite the formulaic words, but close enough to suggest a debt offered and acknowledged, though for the life of him Harry couldn’t guess why the man would offer such. Judging by the small smile on Greengrass’s lips though, he seemed to have handled it acceptably.

“If you’ll excuse me, it seems as though I’m expected,” he said then, giving a smile to Janice and a little nod too Harry before he moved on to the doorway, opening it and slipping into Amelia’s office. Janice gave Harry a questioning little look, to which the boy could honestly do nothing but give a small shrug, as baffled by the behavior as she. As he sat down though, a prompt filled his vision briefly.

Quest Received – On the Other Side

Daphne Greengrass, eldest daughter of Cyrus Greengrass, is the heir of a powerful family with strong influence in the ‘moderate’ or ‘grey’ faction of the Wizengamot. Could she, and in turn her family, become an ally?

Difficulty: Medium, Rewards: Unlock Party Member – Daphne Greengrass, Time to Complete: Before September 1^st, 1991

‘Well now, isn’t that interesting,’ thought Harry, as he willed the prompt away to rest with all of the other outstanding quests he had on his ‘log’. He couldn’t recall anything about Daphne Greengrass, other than her being in Slytherin but not part of the group that he had ‘bad feelings’ towards in his limited recall of people he hadn’t met yet. Still, the more allies he had the better, and it seemed conspicuous to him that he’d just happened to meet Daphne’s father amidst all of the chaos going on at the Ministry.

He didn’t have long to ponder on the matter, as it wasn’t long after Cyrus Greengrass had gone into the office that the sounds of the DMLE dimming drew Harry’s attention back, as a man that Harry instantly recognized swept into the area outside of Amelia’s office. Escorted but unrestrained by the two officers who had been sent to ‘invite’ him back to the DMLE, the man looked just as old as he did in Harry’s memories, with his flowing white beard down almost to his belt. This Dumbledore though was absent the twinkle of merriment in his eyes, looking harried and drawn, the lines of worry clear on his elderly face. He was moving towards Amelia’s door with long, hurried strides, until his half moon spectacles fell upon the boy sitting behind the desk with Janice.

“Harry!? Oh thank the heavens,” he gasped out, a flood of relief washing clearly over the mans features even as the door to the office opened at the summons of the rune tripped by Janice beneath her desk.

“Headmaster Dumbledore,” stated Amelia as she came out, flanked a moment later by Arcturus Black and Augusta Longbottom, the mysterious blue robed Croaker no longer among their number apparently. “I’m surprised to see you here, I had expected my subordinates to deliver you to a holding cell for interrogation,” she said with a stern glance at the pair who looked more than a little uncomfortable.

“Do forgive them Madame Bones,” the old man said seriously, “I impressed upon them the urgent need to enlist your aid in searching for young Harry here, so they were bringing me to you. However, it seems that you have already succeeded where I had failed,” he said, smiling wanly at the boy and raising a trembling hand. “I had feared the worst when my instruments to monitor your health failed, I am so very thankful to see you are unharmed.”

“UNHARMED!?” roared Augusta Longbottom, “Albus Dumbledore, if you believe that Harry has been ‘unharmed’ then you are no fit guardian for him or any other child!”

“Enough Augusta,” said Arcturus, “this is neither the time nor the place for this argument,” before looking back at Dumbledore. “The House of Black has filed formal protest against the placement and treatment of Harry Potter, and I have named him heir secondary after his Godfather. As such, House Black will be taking custody of him,” he stated forcefully.

“It is not acceptable for Harry to grow with such…influences…” Dumbledore replied, “the reputation and penchant of the Black family is unfortunate, and there are many who would raise objection to allowing the last Potter to be placed with a family with such dark leanings.”

“Before you both get too far into this wand measuring contest,” Amelia drawled, “arrangements have already been made. Wizarding Child Services, which was unaware of the placement of Harry Potter in order to check on him, has awarded temporary custody to a family of good standing with long ties to the Potter family.” She grinned then, tossing a wink at Harry, “I’m sure my niece Susan will be delighted to have a friend at the Ossuary to play with, while everything else gets sorted out.” She looked then towards Dumbledore and, with a note of challenge in her voice asked, “Unless of course the esteemed Chief Warlock would like to suggest that the Bones family has some ‘unfortunate’ reason to be unacceptable?”

“Of course not,” sighed Dumbledore, looking towards Harry. He opened his mouth as though to say something, only to shake his head and seem to think better of it before looking back to Amelia and the others, “I seem to recall that Susan will be starting Hogwarts at the same time as Harry. I’m sure starting his schooling with a friend  he knows will be all the more enjoyable…I do hope though that you will keep in mind that young Mr. Potter is just a boy.” He seemed to be trying to stress some point, which Harry could easily guess was that he didn’t want Harry’s mind filled with the supposed ‘Boy-Who-Lived’ mythology.

“Well, with that settled, I’m sure you won’t mind accompanying me to an interview room to discuss certain matters. Arcturus, Janice will call someone to escort you to the location we discussed. Augusta, if you wouldn’t mind, things are going to be a bit hectic here for a few more hours and I’d rather Harry not be stuck waiting the whole time. Would you mind a second little boy for the afternoon, and I’ll floo over when I leave here?”

“Nonsense, it’s high time Mr. Potter met his godbrother!” the old woman declared, smiling at Harry and reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll have the elves set two more places and we’ll expect you and Susan for dinner, Amelia, then the three of you can head home.”

“Thank you, Augusta. Harry, I’ll see you in a bit, but in the meantime Augusta will take good care of you,” she said reassuringly to the young boy who just gave a nod and a quiet ‘yes ma’am’, which prompted her to reach out and give his already messy hair a ruffle.

“We’ll be seeing more of each other as well,” assured Arcturus, giving Harry a small smile of his own before moving over to Janice and starting to speak quietly to her. As he did, Amelia motioned for Dumbledore to precede her. For a moment, the old man hesitated, looking worriedly in Harry’s direction before giving the boy a small nod and heading deeper into the DMLE.

“Well then, let’s be off, Mr. Potter,” said Augusta with a small smile, “I’m sure you and Neville will be thick as thieves in no time,” before taking the boys shoulder again in a light grip, steering him off towards the apparition point for the DMLE. “Amelia thought it best we keep you as ‘out of sight’ as possible so we’ll be leaving from the DMLE instead of going through the public exits.” And with that, and the same feeling of being sucked through a garden hose he’d had before when Amelia brought him to the DMLE, they were gone.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

The arrival in Longbottom Manor was not, in Harry’s own estimation, the high point of grace and dignity for his week. While the firm hands of the Auror’s had kept Harry from stumbling as he was side-alonged to the Ministry, the aged regent of House Longbottom simply didn’t have the grip necessary to catch him as he spun and tumbled away from her, rolling completely over and ending up with his bum against the wall, feet up, and his back laying on the floor.

“I don’t think I’m really good at that yet,” he grumbled, while Augusta tried to look sternly down at him. A slight pop of noise announced the arrival of a House Elf dressed in a crisp little red dress and white apron. The small elf brought Augusta a cane, which she accepted and leaned heavily upon, no longer having to maintain her façade in public.

“Thank you, Tinny. We’ll be having three guests for dinner this evening, Madam Bones and Susan, as well as young Harry here. Please have the coffee service prepared for Madam Bones at the appropriate hour. In the meantime, where is my grandson?”

“Little Master Neville is in the greenhouse,” the elf offered cheerily, “does Miss Augusta want Tinny to call him in?”

“Put a stasis spell on whatever he was working on so that he can continue tomorrow then tell him to wash up, Tinny. I’ll meet him in the back drawing room. Once he’s on his way, if you would please lead our dear Mister Potter to the front drawing room,” she looked then to Harry, who had managed by now to right himself and stand up, “We’ll be with you shortly Harry,” she assured, “if you would like a cup of tea just call for Tinny.” And with that she headed farther into the house, cane clicking on the tiled floors while she walked. Tinny vanished a moment later, only to reappear after about ten seconds and motion for Harry.

“Miss Augusta said Tinny should take you to drawing room,” the elf said, ushering him to follow. Stepping away from the site of his impromptu tumbling exhibition, Harry did as the small creature indicated, walking through the ornate manor and noticing the dozens of paintings and pictures on the walls, all moving and watching him, some few of them calling out greetings in cheerful fashion. Bemused, he let the little elf lead him into the front drawing room, moving over and sitting down on the sofa as the elf popped in a tea service on the cocktail table.

He had just finished one of the biscuits on the small tray, when a boy almost precisely his age came into the room. The boy had a roundness of body to him that spoke of sedentariness and hearty meals, though with Dudley as point of comparison, Harry would hardly call him ‘fat’. Of course, he immediately recognized Neville, the warmth of meeting an old friend for the first time crashing over him and bringing a smile unbidden to his face. “Neville,” he blurted out, not thinking as he stood up to greet the other boy. When Neville looked confused at being recognized, he immediately realized his error, “I mean, you must be Neville, right?” he covered quickly, “Madam Bones and Dowager Longbottom both mentioned you. Umm, I’m. I’m Harry,” he said, offering his hand to the other boy.

Neville, for his part, looked a bit nervous and embarrassed, but he’d never had much chance to be around kids his own age. What was left of his family were a few Aunts and Uncles from his grandmother’s generation, but he was the only child his age. While he’d occasionally have the opportunity to meet Susan Bones or Hannah Abbott, he didn’t really get to spend much time with the pair and they were nearly the only kids his own age he had contact with. Clasping the other boys hand like his Gran had taught him, he nodded, “I’m N..Neville,” he stuttered out, blushing at his own stumble.

Harry though, pretended not to notice at all, “I’m so glad to meet you, Neville,” he said warmly, practically shaking with excitement. “Your Gran said we’re godbrothers, and I’ve never had a godbrother before, but I really hope we can be friends too!”

“Y..yeah. I think I’d like that, Harry,” said the other boy with the beginnings of a smile tugging at his rounded cheeks, before smiling, “friends,” he said, giving the other boys hand a squeeze of his own as he said it as though trying the word on to see how it felt.

Quest completed – Friend in Need

Party Member Unlocked – Neville Longbottom

Side Quest – Hopping is Hip?

Familiar’s are a strange magic, existing in the world from the moment their intended magical human is born, but always ‘young’ when they are found, whether it takes a day or decades. Find the horned toad ‘Trevor’ for party member Neville Longbottom.

Difficulty: Medium, Rewards: Familiar Upgrade – Neville Longbottom, Time to Complete: Before September 1^st, 1991

LEVEL UP! You Have Reached Level 5!

You have 8 skill points to spend! You have 1 attribute point to spend! You have 5 ability points to spend*!
* 2 ability points must be spent on the Hearth & Home Tree

Chapter Text

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Since it was still early afternoon, with a few hours left before twilight, the arrival of the Bones’ and dinner, after a tea and seeing the boys changed into something more appropriate for ‘play’, Augusta simply casting a sizing charm on a pair of trousers and shirt, as well as a jumper and coat of Nevile’s, the pair were allowed out of doors. Stepping out had been a revelation for Harry, as he’d looked up at the faintly shimmering blue dome encompassing the entirety of the estate upon which Longbottom Manor stood. When he’d asked Neville about it the boy had explained, seeming happy to share information with Harry.

“Those are the wards, Gran keeps them up and active all the time. I guess you were already keyed to them from when we were babies, since our parents knew each other and were close,” he had begun. He’d only had a moment of sadness and hesitation flit across his face at the mention of their parents, before continuing on, “because we’re still kids, the wards glow for us as a warning, but Gran says some families and places don’t use a child warning in their wards so I should never assume a lack of glow means that a place isn’t warded. We’re absolutely not allowed to go outside the wards, and if we do, an elf will pop us back into the Hall and Gran won’t be happy…” The last was said in the sort of ominous warning tone that only a child speaking of an outraged guardian can manage, the boys eyes wide and serious.

“That’s neat though, that we can see the wards,” Harry said with a grin, looking around. So what do you wanna do?”

“I can show you the greenhouses, if you want?” Neville suggested, prompting a small look of displeasure from Harry.

“Don’t get me wrong, Nev,” he started, “I do want to see the greenhouses and I think they sound awesome…but I’ve had some…bad experiences with gardening. I think I’d like to avoid plants for a little while. If it’s okay?”

Neville’s face betrayed his curiosity at the idea of a ‘bad experience with gardening’, but the boy was both far too polite and far too shy to push for more information. “Umm, well there’s some children’s brooms in the broom shed. I can’t fly one, but I bet you could, and I can watch,” he suggested seeming a bit down.

Harry considered, running through what he ‘remembered’ of Neville from his ‘essentials’ memories. He knew Neville was painfully shy and lacked self-confidence, but at the same time he had an impression of the boy as a courageous leader and brave ally, two impressions that didn’t seem to meld with one another. It was enough to get the idea that Neville ‘grew out of’ this shy, timid self that Harry was meeting. Coupled with the prompt from the quest to find Neville that suggested he needed to help the other boy ‘realize his potential earlier’ an idea blossomed in Harry’s mind.

“Who says you can’t fly?” he countered brazenly, grabbing Neville’s arm and tugging him along towards where the boy had indicated the broom shed was. “Why would you even think that? I bet you’re way better at it than I am, and Mum’s journal said I was zipping around on a little toy broom when I was barely able to walk yet! Come on Neville, you gotta show me how, I don’t remember!”

“But..I can’t. I don’t even do accidental magic, and Great-Aunt Enid keeps telling Gran and Uncle Algie I’m probably a squib…” he admitted in a crestfallen tone.

“What’s a squib?” Harry asked, pulling the door to the broomshed open. There was a glow over the shelves that held the full sized brooms, this one a warning orange color and Harry didn’t need prompting to guess that children couldn’t get hold of those yet. But a rack with four smaller brooms sat open to the boys, and Harry grabbed two of them, thrusting one out at Neville.

“Squibs are people from magical families, that don’t have magic,” explained Neville with a morose, dejected tone.

“That’s ridiculous, how could anyone think you don’t have magic?” he asks, pointing outwards towards the glowing blue dome. “You can see the giant glowing blue thing that tells us to stay inside. Do you think any random person who can’t do magic can see that?” he asked, pushing every bit of conviction and exasperation into his tone. Harry guessed that probably squibs could in fact see the dome, based on what he remembered of conversations with his family about some of the things in his previous life. He knew that Mrs. Figg was a squib, and had been able to give evidence to help him out of a situation because she could see the magical monster or something to that effect. He doubted though that Neville knew all that much about squibs or what they could do, gambling on ‘tricking’ the boy into confidence in himself if need be.

One look at the dumbfounded expression on Neville’s face was enough to tell Harry that he’d been right though, as the huskier boy simply stared at him for several long moments before blinking and looking at the glowing blue dome.

“Yep. Pfft. Squib, that’s just dumb, I know you’re a wizard Neville,” Harry stated confidently, walking up beside the other boy who still held the child’s broom in numb, mittened hands. “Now, how do we do this? I always wanted to fly,” he urged, letting his excitement drip into his voice.

“F..fly… Oh, umm,” Neville was brought back to the moment, and looked at the broom. “Well, the brooms are charmed for kids, so you don’t have to like…do any magic or anything. They just draw on your magic,” he explained, “just hold it in front of you,” and he demonstrated by putting the broom in front of him with the bristles down between his legs, “then slide onto it as you let the front down.” He slid forward onto the broom, the front lowering and the bristles coming up, the boy looking so surprised when the broom held up easily beneath him that Harry worried he’d fall off even though Neville’s feet were still on the ground. The other boys voice trembled a bit as he said, “Then you just…lift your feet up,” in a quiet voice,  the nervousness evident as he drew his feet up off of the ground, the broom giving only the faintest of wobbles as it supported the boys weight.

Harry had to school himself to move slowly and pretend to be unsure of himself, as he slid onto his own broom, a moment later ending up hovering by Neville. “Oh wow, this is awesome Neville! Show me how we go!” he urged the other boy with a gleeful smile.

Peer pressure is an amazing and often terrible thing, but no one can doubt its effectiveness, and Neville was never going to embarrass himself by letting down his very first friend in that moment. “You…you lean forward to go, and pull back to slow down or stop,” he said, “the brooms stay about a foot and half above the ground, so you can’t like fly up or down or anything.” Then, leaning forward, he demonstrated, starting to drift forward on the broom at a pace that was about the same as a steady walk.

Harry followed the other boy, grinning, keeping pace for about twenty feet before he said, “Come on Neville, race you!” and leaned forward, starting to pick up speed and calling back to the other boy to keep up. What followed was Harry coaxing Neville to ever faster speeds and into turns, until after about twenty minutes the boys were zipping around the huge snow covered front lawns of Longbottom Estate at a speed that most go-carts would find hard to match, whooping and hollering with glee the whole time.

Neither little boy noticed Augusta Longbottom watching over them from an upstairs window, and even if they had they were certainly too far away to see the tears of joy and relief streaming down the grandmothers face, watching Neville at play on the broom with his godbrother.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

After a strong brandy to help calm her down, Augusta sent Tinny out to wrangle the boys inside, going down to meet them at the doorway. She had let them play outside for over an hour, all told, trusting to the warming charms that she’d put on their clothes for at least that long. As they’d come inside, the boys were all smiles, their faces red from the wind and cold. She waved her wand over them, putting another warming charm on both little boys before smiling at them, “I see you two have had fun,” she said warmly, “did you put the brooms away?”

“Yes Gran,” Neville dutifully replied, face bright with his own smile, earning a nod of approval from Augusta.

“Tinny will have cocoa for both of you after you put your coats away,” she informed them, “then Neville I thought you might like to teach Harry to play Exploding Snap?”

Neville’s face brightened at the idea, and Harry grinned and nodded along, the two boys quickly cleaning up before heading into the den where there was a short table suitable for them to play. Thankfully, despite having already known and played the game the rules of it were easy enough that Neville had explained in no time and didn’t have reason to suspect Harry might know more about the game than he let on. The game focused more on reflex and attention than on any real strategy, meaning that Harry could play while his thoughts wandered to other matters somewhat, especially with just two of them playing.

He'd been so distracted with the goings on at the Ministry and then with meeting Neville and playing, that he hadn’t had an opportunity yet to stop and think about the fact that he had more than an entire level worth of benefits left unspent, and numerous abilities he could pick up to boot.

Pulling up his interface with a thought, his eyes briefly widened as he noticed Neville’s movements slow to a crawl, as though the other boy was in some sort of slow motion. Looking around towards the fireplace, he was surprised to see the crackling flames similarly slowed, only to realize that rather than the world around him slowing down, his own thoughts were accelerated to allow him to utilize the interface while still interacting with others. He was reminded of his Mum and Remus explaining an ‘exploit’ to him, after the family had played (or watched each other play) a video game that lacked any sort of pause feature, but which nothing happened while the player was looking at their inventory screen, effectively allowing the player to pause the game without such. They had stressed to Harry that finding little oversights or features like that and coming up with creative ways to wring advantage from them could be huge. Seeing this slow motion effect, he couldn’t help but think about the possible uses while in a time sensitive situation, such as dodging spells.

Filing the thought away for future considerations, he looked at his skills first. He wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t gained skill points from the bit of flying earlier, but did notice with a slight twinge of shame that he’d gained a total of 5 points of ‘deception’ for his efforts at the Ministry and with Neville. Thinking about some of the skills he’d used so far, he decided to put four points into the ‘examine’ skill that he’d picked up early on in Durzkaban, thinking it would be a good investment for the future. He then split two more points into ‘persuasion’ and invested the other two points into a skill he hadn’t noticed before – discernment. Reading the skill description, it focused on his ability to tell when people were being dishonest with him. He had to admit that the three points he had been granted in the skill was likely generous considering he was aware of how often he had been deceived and manipulated in his previous lives.

The attribute point was a trickier situation, especially realizing how few and far between attribute upgrades would be. At first he thought to put the point into ‘fate’ since it was his lowest stat, however the system simply didn’t allow him to assign the point there. He considered, then finally invested the point into willpower instead, reasoning that it was both one of his most defining and vital features.

His attention then moved to the sprawling spiderweb of the abilities menu, already feeling a headache coming on. He looked first at the ‘Hearth and Home’ tree, where he had two free points available to spend still. He read through a couple of the branches already available like ‘Ancestral Home’ which would allow him to reclaim the ancestral seat of House Potter, or ‘Landlord’ which would let him house people on his properties (once he had them) to gain benefit from their presence. There were a lot of branches off of Landlord, suggesting that the ability might be far more involved than he'd have first expected. The ‘Mundane Residence’ caught his eye as well, which would provide for and upgrade a mundane home in a regular neighborhood for his residence. A number of the trees had ‘rank’ upgrades for them as well, and a few had ‘warding’ options such as Goblin or War wards. He decided to hold off on dealing with the Hearth & Home abilities for a bit longer. He strongly suspected that some or many of the abilities could be obtained through other means, and wanted to save those ‘free’ points for what he couldn’t get simply by expending galleons or pounds. The ‘First Home’ ability he’d been granted still gave the same information about claiming a ‘home’ at no additional cost, leaving him unsure exactly what it would do when he utilized it.

Knowing that he would be, at the least, present at the upcoming trials and what a huge impact they would have on his life, Harry decided to invest into the Wizengamot Politics tree. Spending the first point on Wizengamot Politics opened up a number of new ability trees beneath the primary header, even as a flood of knowledge poured into his mind about the customs, laws and behavioral norms of the Wizengamot. Several of the abilities that were unlocked dealt with who he was, such as ‘Last Scion of House Potter’ which would allow him more control over his seat on the Wizengamot while still a minor, and make it easier to take full control of the seat sooner and be recognized. The greyed out ‘Heir of Peverell’ on the other hand wouldn’t grant him a seat as the ancient family had long since been declared lost, but by publicly declaring (and in doing so proving) his descendency from the Peverell’s, he would gain a certain mystery and authority with many members of the Wizengamot. ‘Conqueror of Slytherin’ was similar, and similarly greyed out, but could be used when he presented proof of Voldemort’s lineage to declare he had conquered the line of Slytherin and gain tremendous influence, especially with those who might be opposed to the views that had become associated with that house.

Having no knowledge of who was currently sitting as proxy for the Potter seat, nor what agenda they might have been representing as such, Harry selected ‘Last Scion of House Potter’ and a new deluge of information, smaller at least, slid into his mind. He thought about it a moment then, and realized that it wasn’t as much that he was ‘gaining’ the memories, but more like portions of his mind that had been sealed away were being unlocked and allowing him to access information that had always been part of him. He knew that Elphias Doge, an old friend of Dumbledore’s, was currently sitting as proxy for the Potter seat. He also knew that while many of the votes Doge had cast were as he’d have wanted, the man tended to be entirely devoted to Dumbledore’s position, meaning that he often voted in favor of lighter punishments than Harry might have felt were appropriate. He realized that there were only a handful of options of those whom he could designate as his proxy as well, since a single person could not sit in multiple seats upon the Wizengamot. That meant he could not ask Madam Bones nor Neville’s Gran to be his proxy. A series of images and names flitted through his mind, but he had no connection yet to the Weasley’s, Remus Lupin was still unaccounted for, and Sirius wasn’t free yet. An image of a woman with a mane of dark hair and an angular face came to his mind, flashing a moment later with an image of a woman who looked considerably similar. Unlike Bellatrix’s hateful snarl and the clear sense of ‘enemy’ he felt from her though, Andromeda Tonks nee Black had a tentative feel of ‘family’ and an inherent trust born of the trust in her daughter. He remembered her husband, Ted, only to get a flash of the man dead at the hands of the Death Eaters, just like Tonks and Lupin, making him certain she would be on the ‘right side’ of any conflicts to come.

Thinking that perhaps Augusta or Madam Bones could help him get up with Andromeda, he focused on the last two points he had. He still thought he should keep an ‘emergency’ point laying around in case something took him by surprise, but his attention moved to ‘Serpent’s Tongue’ and ‘Voice of the Phoenix’, the names of the abilities certainly interesting. Serpent’s Tongue would give him a huge bonus to deception when speaking in a political setting such as the Wizengamot, and a smaller bonus otherwise. Voice of the Phoenix on the other hand would help him to calm and control raised emotions, especially in crowds or formal address. Both were hugely tempting, but ultimately he decided that he should invest in Serpent’s Tongue, despite his distaste for deception. He had a lot of secrets he needed to keep, and a lot riding on keeping them. This time the flood of knowledge was quite different from what he’d experienced before, as he knew how to make people believe him, and gained an instinctive understanding of selling a falsehood to a crowd. He realized almost immediately though that the abilities could just as readily be used to convince people of a truth, which somewhat eased his conscious.

While worried over not having the ‘emergency’ point to fall back on, he couldn’t help but feel far more prepared for what was coming than he had before, rubbing his temple at the slight headache even as he played a matching card to what Neville had just put down and called out ‘SNAP!’ causing Neville’s pile to explode and scatter all over the place, sending both boys laughing.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

“Lady Augusta, could I speak to you for a moment?” Harry asked tentatively while Neville was upstairs to change his shirt, since he wasn’t dressed for dinner. The wardrobe system had let Harry change back into his ‘Upscale Wizarding Child’ outfit almost instantaneously, once he’d slipped into a guest room to do so.

“Of course, Mister Potter,” the older woman smiled, “but I’m rather used to boys your age calling me ‘Gran’, and would be very pleased to have you think of me as such,” she said with a fond pat of his shoulder.

Harry couldn’t help being surprised a bit, his impression of Augusta having been far more aloof and hardened than the kindly grandmother she seemed in the moment. “O..of course. Gran,” he tried the word on, never having had grandparents in any of his lives, and giving her a smile. “I..thank you,” he said quietly.

For a moment the pair stood there, before Augusta prompted, “Now then young man, I believe you had something you wanted to speak about?”

“Oh, yes, sorry,” he said, a trifle embarrassed at how thoroughly derailed he had gotten. “My Mum wrote journals, and I’ve been reading them since I just got them a couple days ago,” he explained. “She had mentioned that my Dad had a seat on the Wizengamot, and that she wanted to find a few good books to study on the subject to make sure I was ready to do my job eventually. I don’t think I’m really ready to have a job yet though, and I was wondering what I’m supposed to do?”

Augusta smiled, “I see. No fear, lad, we aren’t going to put you to work making laws just yet. Typically a child your age and in your…situation…is represented by what’s called a ‘Regent’. For example, I am Neville’s Regent, and will take his place on the Wizengamot until he’s old enough to assume the responsibility himself. Madam Bones holds a similar role for her niece, Susan. However, because Madam Bones sits on the Wizengamot by virtue of her position as acting head of the DMLE, she has appointed a trusted family friend to vote for the Bones family in the meantime. This is called a ‘proxy’, and currently the proxy for House Potter is Elphias Doge, I suspect he was appointed by Dumbledore though I can’t recall for certain, since he was already sitting as proxy before I took over as Regent for Longbottom after Neville’s grandfather became ill.”

Harry considered that, before giving Augusta a little frown. “I don’t think I want someone that Mister Dumbledore appointed voting for me,” he said after a few moments. “I think I want someone who is going to ask questions and argue, instead of just agreeing to whatever Mister Dumbledore says,” he said with a serious expression on his face.

“I can certainly understand that, but I’m not sure what we could do about it just yet,” the older woman admitted, only to see Harry smile a wickedly mischievous smile that would have strongly reminded her of Sirius Black, if she’d had more direct contact with the man.

“Welllllll,” he drew out, “Mom said in her journal that Sirius had a cousin who got disowned for marrying a guy who wasn’t from one of the old families, but that Sirius and her were really close,” he explained. “And she’s probably not going to be too happy to find out that her favorite cousin got chucked in prison with no trial, I bet?”

Augusta’s eyebrow lifted, before a small smile tugged at the bottom of her own lips, “Amelia was right, I fear,” chuckled the older woman, “you do seem to have a gift for stirring up trouble, Mister Potter.”

“Call me Harry please, Gran Augusta!” the boy chirped with a big smile on his face, “so can we call Mrs. Tonks?”

“I promised Amelia I wouldn’t share your  presence with anyone outside Neville and the elves,” Augusta explained, “but we’ll discuss it with Amelia after dinner, and either contact her this evening or I’ll see to it she’s present tomorrow morning first thing at the Ministry.”

“Thanks, Gran,” the boy said, shoulders slumping a bit in genuine relief at the idea of having another person on his side and a stronger voice on the Wizengamot.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

“Hi! I’m Susan, my Auntie said you’re going to stay with us a few days!?” the excitable little redheaded girl said, practically launching herself at Harry and throwing her arms around the surprised boy as soon as she stepped out of the floo.

For his part, Harry was doing good not to be bowled over, thankful for the improvements from ‘Healthy Upbringing’ having corrected so much. He recognized Susan Bones, of course, even far younger than he’d had memories of her from his ‘essentials’ memories. Still, he hadn’t remembered her being so outgoing or enthusiastic.

“Oh, umm, yes. Madam Bones was nice and said I could stay while things are sorted out, I hope that’s not a bother,” he said, realizing that the old him who hadn’t experienced a childhood full of hugs and affection from his family would have been terrified of this little girl.

Thankfully, Susan disengaged and beamed at him with enthusiasm, “Oh no, it’ll be great! It’s usually just me and Hannah when she can come over, but now you’ll be there to play with too,” she looked over then and grinned, “and maybe Neville can come play some too?” she asked hopefully. In a flash of insight, Harry realized how alone and isolated they all were, or at least had been. Orphans scattered and alone, and even those growing up in the support of what was left of their families were still isolated by circumstance. Neville kept hidden away because his grandmother didn’t want to subject him to the ridicule after his great aunt had let it slip that she suspected he was a squib. Susan because her aunt was a rising star of the Ministry, soon to be head of the DMLE and only the Abbots were trusted enough to be ‘safe’ playmates for the girl. It brought to Harry’s mind memories of Hermione and Luna, knowing that both of them would be similarly isolated. As if in response to the recollection of the girl from his ‘essentials’ memories, a prompt immediately appeared in Harry’s vision.

Quest Received – How to Save a Life

Luna Lovegood faced bullying and persecution because of her oddness and whimsy, which may in part have been defensive mechanisms as a result of the loss of her mother and half madness of her father. She was filled with joy to have friends, and certainly would be again, especially if it happened sooner!

Difficulty: Variable, Rewards: Unlock Party Member – Luna Lovegood, Time to Complete: Unknown

Harry couldn’t help but blink in confusion at the quest prompt. He’d received quite a few of the ‘Unlock Party Member’ quests by now, but never one with a ‘variable’ difficulty, and it seemed like the ‘time to complete’ for his fellow students was the first day they would attend Hogwarts. Putting aside the odd feeling he had about the quest, a nagging thought that he was forgetting something that might be important, he focused instead of Susan and Amelia Bones.

“That sounds great, and I bet Nev would come over, he taught me to play Exploding Snap earlier but he was saying it’s really better to play with more people,” he said roping Neville into the conversation and ruthlessly throwing the shy boy under the bus so he couldn’t escape being drug in to socializing with Susan and Hannah.

“I’m sure things can be arranged,” a tired seeming Amelia Bones said. “But it will probably be a couple of days, the next few are going to be a bit hectic,” she said as the children were ushered into the dining room. Harry was surprised at the practical feast laid out on the table, and apparently so was Amelia as she looked towards Augusta and raised an eyebrow.

Augusta smiled at Amelia before saying, “Well, it’s not every day we get to host,” before adding, “or that I get to watch my Grandson and his godbrother zipping around over the snow on brooms.” Amelia’s eyes widened slightly before she gave the older woman a warm smile, knowing the implications and Augusta’s secretly admitted fears over what would happen to Neville if he were a squib as the rumors had claimed. Neither woman dwelled on the topic, and soon enough they were all seated at the table and eating while Augusta filled Amelia in on Harry’s request and idea.

After some discussion, Amelia had finally nodded, “It’s probably the best we can come up with for the moment, and she knows the role well enough since she was the eldest daughter. I’ll have her arrive early in the morning so you can meet with her Harry, and we’ll go from there. If all else fails, you can replace her if she turns out not to represent how you want your family to be represented.”

Harry had simply nodded, acquiescing easily to putting the matter off for the morning. It had been a very, very long day for a six year olds energy reserves, and he was already starting to nod. Neither Augusta nor Amelia seemed the least bit surprised, and they didn’t linger after dinner. Harry ended up being carried through the floo connection, head rested on Amelia’s shoulder and half asleep, Susan holding Amelia’s other hand as they emerged with practiced ease. He’d have never been able to tell you the path through the Ossuary from the floo to the room he was taken to, and by the time Amelia had pulled the blankets up and settled his glasses on the night stand, a very tired little boy was very fast asleep.

Chapter Text

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

“You’re doing so well, Harry!”

The words, and the voice, caused Harry to spin around in shock, finding Lily Potter standing there, with James’ arm around her shoulder. Rushing forward Harry threw his arms around his parents, hugging into them as they wrapped him up in their arms.

“Congratulations on hitting level 5 kiddo,” his dad said, voice thick with emotion, “you’re moving so much faster than we’d expected!”

“I’ve gotten lucky,” Harry choked out, clinging to the pair he hadn’t expected to see again for so very long. “How..why..wh..”

Before he could stammer his way to a coherent question though, Lily interrupted him with a small laugh and a firm squeeze of her arms. “Apparently there’s an allowance for ‘consultations’ every so many levels, to evaluate and guide a destined. And Alora and Iggy felt as though your parents would be the best people to deliver such guidance, at least while you’re still a child. She did say that they might have to adjust things when situations heated up,” Lily explained, leaning back and running a hand through Harry’s messy hair.

“There’s not really much for us to tell you specifically for guidance just yet, but ‘five’ was a milestone level so because it was technically on the list, we still can visit with you the first night after you achieved the level…”

“Sirius and Remus wanted to come see you as well, but because their destinies are already changing so drastically, they can’t interact as much. Alora said that they will be completely pulled back to the current timeline soon,” Lily continued for James, before looking to her husband. “They worked out some sort of deal with Iggy as well. They were being pretty cagey about it, but apparently in exchange for letting Iggy hijack a small part of their minds when they were sleeping in order to exert some active influences, they get to hijack that part when Iggy isn’t using it.”

“We’re going to use it to pass messages through ‘unofficial’ channels… Once they go back, it’ll be your Mom and I sending the messages, but time is a bit mismatched…it’s confusing, your Mom will have to explain it. Or maybe Hermione could,” he said, drawing a confused look from Harry.

“When is it for you?” Harry asked, eyes confused, prompting Lily to reach over and cover James’s mouth.

“We’re very much not allowed to say, please don’t ask baby. If we break the rules like that, we might not get to be the ones to come visit you for these ‘guidance’ calls,” she pleaded, giving James a stern look of warning. “We’re sort of moving backwards while you’re moving forwards, until the timelines synchronize. Apparently while the ‘butterfly effect’ is a very valid theory, just because a change can affect everything else doesn’t mean that the change will affect everything else. So there are nearly infinite numbers of things that occurred in the previous timeline up to the point of reversal that won’t at all be affected by the changes you’re making. Right now, things have not changed enough that the previous timeline is forever impossible, even if it is becoming increasingly improbably.” She paused to consider how to explain before continuing, “effectively, it’s still possible that events could be manipulated such that the final results remain essentially the same. Apparently any time a timeline is reverted and restarted, there’s a tendency for it to follow into the same pattern it had been in before. Like it’s following the familiar path instead of making a new one.”

“Wait, so no matter what I do, things are still going to try and work out the same way?” Harry asked, despair in his voice.

“No son,” James assured, “they’ll just tend towards the same patterns until you hit a point where nothing could force things back onto that same path. But, it’s not actually a bad thing, Harry. It means that your memories of what happened before will be somewhat more relevant despite changes. You will be able to notice patterns repeating, though they will be changed by what you’ve done.”

“Especially around the essential events. Just remember that just because things seem to be following the same course, doesn’t mean they are. Don’t put blinders on because you have memories that seem to match up,” warned Lily.

A slight pulse of light drew Harry’s attention, and he looked around for the first time, realizing that they were basically standing in the middle of nothingness, a neutral and subdued whiteness all around them while mists of the same swirled around their ankles. The pulse drew the attention of his parents as well, and Lily said, “We’re running out of time for this visit,” pulling Harry into another tight hug.

James was quick to wrap his arms around the both of them, leaning in close, but to Harry’s surprise his father said quietly against his ear, “It’s good to keep a keen eye on the Daily Prophet, you never know what will show up in it, especially the classifieds. Just keep an eye out for familiar friends and remember how to manage your mischief,” he urged cryptically.

“We love you, Harry,” his mother said, voice near tears at the parting again while his father just held them close until the darkness of sleep overcame Harry once more.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

When Harry woke the next morning, he wasn’t surprised to find his cheeks wet, but felt a surprising lightness in his heart. While he might not be able to see them as often as he wished, he knew he’d see his parents again, seemingly sooner than he’d originally believed. The strength of the affirmation of their love and their continued guardianship was like a balm against the anxiety and worry that had been nagging at his mind, the fear of being alone in his task.

Reaching for his glasses and pulling them on, he looked around the strange bedroom he was in, a moment of panic entering his mind before he realized he must be at the Bones family manor, the ‘Ossuary’ as it was called. A bit morbid of a name, he thought, but then he didn’t really know all that much about the Bones family other than they had been allies of the Potter family for the last several generations at least. Slipping from the bed, he looked at the dress robes laid out for him and, after slipping into the en suite to take care of morning necessities, quickly got dressed. Stepping out into the hallway, he was startled by the appearance of a house elf in a toga like garment of a deep cream hue.

“Missy Amilly says Lolly is to be bringings her guest to the table, since hes not be knowings the way,” the little elf said, offering a hand to Harry. When Harry took the elfs hand though, he was tugged along the hallway instead of being elf popped, allowing him to get an idea of the layout of the house. Down a flight of stairs and then passing a library and a sitting room, Harry was lead to what was clearly an informal dining room, where Amelia was already at the table sipping a cup of coffee and chatting quietly with none other than Andromeda Tonks, who was likewise nursing a coffee.

“Thank you for showing me the way, Lolly,” Harry said to the house elf before Lolly could pop away, earning a smile from the little elf and the attention of the two women. “Good morning Madam Bones, and Madam Tonks?” The inflection of questioning in his tone drawing a smile and a nod from the second woman.

“Good morning to you as well, Mister Potter,” Amelia smiled, “and yes, Madam Tonks agreed to come by this morning and I have been filling her in on why I requested her presence.”

“I must say, I’m quite surprised at your request, Harry,” admitted Andromeda, “I haven’t seen you since you were a baby, after all,” she pointed out.

Harry nodded slightly, “I’m sorry, I admit I don’t actually remember you. But, you come with three glowing recommendations – first, I’m told you were Sirius’s favorite cousin and the only family he claimed. Second, you married someone not from a magic family, so you definitely aren’t one of the bad people since they hate everyone not from a magic family. Third, you don’t think the man who put me with abusive guardians farts rainbows and sparkles, like I’m pretty sure the guy he appointed to proxy my family seat does.”

“Harry,” chided Amelia lightly, “while I understand the sentiment, you should moderate your words, especially in public,” Amelia urged. Though, if Harry was reading her attempt to hide her amusement correctly, it was an effort for the sake of appearances more than genuine disapproval.

“Yes, Auntie,” Harry quipped with an impish smile, drawing a small laugh from both women.

“You’re definitely your parent’s child,” Andromeda remarked, “Lily’s logic and James’ troublemaking. A scary combination.” She smiled then, “I’m still not sure that the Wizengamot is going to allow a six year old to appoint his own proxy, but if they allow it, I’ll be glad to take on the role until you find someone more suitable.” She considered the boy, “what would your instructions be?”

The little boy considered it for a moment as he slid into a seat at the table, picking up a fork when a plate of breakfast appeared before him and spearing a piece of sausage. “Bad people deserve bad things, good people deserve good things,” he declared, before popping the sausage into his mouth and chewing it before swallowing, “and being rich doesn’t make bad people good, any more than having an illness makes good people bad.”

“Out of the mouths of babes,” Andromeda said quietly, a smile on her face, “I think I can manage that agenda just fine…”

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Arriving at the Ministry of Magic via the DMLE apparition point and side-along was no more pleasant this time around than Harry had found being side-alonged on previous occasions, and he let out a slight groan of displeasure.

“Sorry about that, Mister Potter, but side-along is the most secure option to move quickly at the moment, and you’re still and likely will remain a protected personage for quite some time,” Amelia apologized. Andromeda would be arriving separately via the public floos, and however Augusta Longbottom had arrived she was already present and waiting for them when they arrived.

As she and Amelia exchanged greetings and a few quiet words, Harry looked around, shocked at how busy the DMLE was, with people rushing around everywhere. Thinking about it though, he supposed their boss had effectively launched a coup and was overthrowing the government this morning, or trying to, so there was little surprise that it was all hands on deck. He could spot Auror Hammer and Mad-Eye waiting nearby, looking agitated. At an uttered oath from Amelia though, Harry refocused his attention on her as she waved the two Auror’s over.

“How bad is it?” she asked without preamble of Moody.

“They haven’t erected a gibbet in the atrium yet, but I wouldn’t rule it out before noon,” the grizzled auror replied. “The Prophet got a picture of us escorting Harry out of Mungo’s, probably pensieve photography from Addlesby’s memory. Expensive as hell for the potions to develop the film, but they wouldn’t blink for the first pictures of the Boy-Who-Lived and being escorted out of the hospital by a DMLE top squad at that. We should brought her in for questioning and sat on her for a week or so,” he groused.

“We can’t…just…no,” growled out Amelia, giving a stern glare to her former trainer. “Augusta, who’s our vote for acting Chief Warlock once things get moving?”

“If Dumbledore is removed, we’re pushing Ogden. He’s got the clout and reputation as a neutral voice, as well as being regarded as somewhat of a stickler for procedure and law. It shouldn’t draw too much opposition and the nomination will come from Ignatius, so it doesn’t immediately throw up questions.”

“Prewett? I don’t even want to know how you got the old codger to agree to that,” remarked Amelia before striding out, “Hammer, Moody, stay with Harry at all times. No one gets near him,” she was instructing even as a figure appeared in front of her in blue robes.

“We will provide additional escorts,” said the figure who, Harry was guessing, was probably Croaker. As he spoke, two more figures in blue hooded robes faded into existence, drawing a grunt from Moody.

“Wondered what you three were skulking about for,” he remarked, his magical eye tracking over them as his real eye watched the leader of the three.

“We really don’t like that eye,” remarked the figure in that strange not quite male, not quite female voice that the robes bestowed.

“Hah..I’ll bet. Keeps you honest, even if I can’t see under those hoods,” Moody fired back, apparently unconcerned with the disapproval of the representatives of the Department of Mysteries. But then, Moody struck Harry as the sort to not be concerned with what pretty much anyone disapproved of him over. “You two take point, Hammer and I have rear,” he said then. “We’ve got witness room six prepped until it’s time for our young friend’s grand entrance.”

Harry couldn’t help but smirk at the mans manner, trying to fight down his nerves as it seemed things were escalating rapidly out of control. Whatever else was being done to address the chaos at the Ministry though, Harry wasn’t to be privy to as Moody, Hammer and the two Unspeakables walked him briskly through a series of back hallways to a comfortable, if quite bland, room. There were three cushioned chairs around a rectangular table,  upon which a small tray with tea and biscuits was resting. A small door at the rear of the room was partially open to reveal a small privy, making it clear that being in this room might be expected to last quite some time.

“Go ahead and make yourself comfortable lad, you’re on the docket first thing to be presented apparently, which is probably for the best since news that you’re well and present will calm things down a fair bit with the riot brewin’ out in the atrium,” Moody said as he motioned to the table and chairs.

Harry just nodded, sitting down. No one had explained yet just why Harry was such a public figure to him, in this time line, but the myth of ‘The Boy Who Lived’ was part of the essential memories on top of being something that his family had debated how to deal with while planning for his final attempt through his life. He suspected that he’d never quite be comfortable with his fame, much less happy about it, but his family had made him understand that the fame could be a powerful tool or weapon. Voldemort’s fame, for admittedly evil and horrible things, was a large part of why he had risen so rapidly to become a threat in the Second War, and Harry understood that he’d be foolish to ignore such a potent tool in fighting against his true enemy.

“I understand. If things go well, please tell Madam Bones that I’d be glad to give a brief appearance to help calm things down,” he said quietly to Moody, drawing a surprised look from the veteran.

“I’ll pass that along, lad. It might just help put things to rest if things are going well,” he agreed, not voicing that it might also be their next avenue of attack if things went off the rails today.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

In the Wizengamot chambers, Albus Dumbledore rapped his gavel three times as he called for the meeting to come to order. Sitting as Chief Warlock, he looked out over the assemblage with a great deal of worry for what today would bring. His interview with Madam Bones had been among the worst hours of his life, as he discovered just how badly he had been mistaken about his placement of Harry with those wretched beasts. Reading the healers report had brought him to tears, and he had spent a sleepness night in self recrimination that his distraction trying to discover what had happened to Riddle that night had meant he was not monitoring the situation with Harry closely as he should have. He knew that Bones was right, he was wearing too many hats trying to fill all the roles that people had pressed on him.

As the Wizengamot and the audience in the packed viewing balconies quieted, he was unsurprised to see Amelia Bones already standing to address the body.

“Wizengamot Emergency session,  February 9^th, Nineteen Hundred Eighty Six is called to order. Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore presiding. Madam Amelia Bones, Acting Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, as you have convened this emergency session of the Wizengamot as outlined in the Charter of Governance for the Ministry of Magic of Great Britain and Ireland, you may begin your address.”

The Chief Warlock sat at a raised bench at one end of the floor of the Wizengamot Chamber, with the position normally held by the Minister of Magic and his assistant to the left of the Chief Warlock, and the Chamber Scribe and Lawkeeper to the right. The podium stood just off to the side from the Lawkeeper, angled so that a speaker could easily address the assembly as well as the presiding authorities.  “Thank you, Chief Warlock. Members of the Wizengamot, you have been summoned today to sit in judgment on at the least four cases which deal with violation of our most sacred laws, and which touch at the very heart of our society. This will not be an easy day, and this will not be a good day. But by the efforts of this body, it may be a just and righteous day.”

She paused, looking over the assemblage. The floor of the chamber was occupied by the Low Seats of the Wizengamot, twenty one elected representatives, six department heads of the Ministry, and living recipients of the Order of Merlin for a total of thirty two seats. The High Seats were arranged in two rings of smaller benches raised on two terraces above the floor, with extensions above the benches such that the High Seats were not visible from above or behind. It was a feature that had been added over a hundred years prior, after an attack from the public viewing area that ringed the Wizengamot chamber had killed a sitting member of the Wizengamots High Seats. These were the hereditary seats, which numbered forty seats. While this might at first glance seem to mean that the High and Low seats were balanced, the law heavily favored the established power of the High Seats and as the seats were ‘casting votes on behalf of the families that are pillars of Wizarding Britain’, each High Seat vote counted three times. Or more accurately, the Low Seat representatives only counted as one third of a vote, though the custom of counting the Low votes at one and the High at three had existed for over a century and a half.

“Before we begin those deliberations though, we have a ray of hope and joy, as the beloved last son of one of our most ancient and noble families has been returned to us,” she paused as a susurration rippled through the Chamber and audience both.

“Objection!” called a voice from one of the High Seats, “What is this about some boy, while the Minister of Magic and her entire office is vanished?! I demand this meeting be adjourned until the Minister is restored to authority!”

“The Minister has been detained and will be heard from later, Lord Nott,” Amelia fired back.

“The objection is dismissed,” Dumbledore remarked, “the Minister has been lawfully removed from office pending the results of todays trials.” This time it was no ripple of surprise and noise that went through the chamber, but cries of shock, outrage and demands for information. After a few moments, Dumbledore raised his wand and sent off a series of three sharp cannon blast of noise, quieting the chamber and prompting no small number of people to cover their ears. “Let us move things along, Madam Bones,” he instructed then.

“The Ministry of Magic calls Harry James Potter before the Wizengamot,” she said, prompting a surge of noise to erupt once more.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Harry, at the slight press of Moody’s hand, stepped through the doorway which lead towards the witness chair of the Wizengamot Chamber. He knew that the two Unspeakables were disillusioned on either side of him, the only ones who could do so within the Ministry of Magic building legally. He’d been expecting more than a little bit of chaos, but when he stepped into the chamber wearing the plum colored robe with silver W of a member of the Wizengamot, the hall descended into absolute bedlam.

It took almost a minute for Dumbledore to call things to order, before demanding, “Madam Bones, explain why Mister Potter is dressed as a member of this body,” he ordered, looking none too amused.

Amelia, for her part, looked entirely unbothered as she placed a document onto the small table beside the podium and tapped it with her wand. As she did, an illusion of the document appeared hovering on each end of the chamber, making it easy for everyone to see and read the document.

“I call the Chamber’s attention to the Last Will and Testament of James Charlus Potter, heir of Lord Charlus Fleamont Potter. While this document shall be a key piece of evidence in several of the cases today, the relevant portions at this moment are in paragraph fourteen,” and the image adjusted to focus on the paragraph in question.

Should I be unable, either through incapacitation or death, and Harry’s mother, Lily, be unable, either through incapacitation or death, nor his Godfather or Godmother be able to serve as Regent, then my eldest child Harry James Potter shall become Head of the House of Potter with all attendant rights, privileges, and responsibilities.

“Objection! A child cannot be Head of House!” called a voice from a few seats down from where Nott had been earlier.

“Lawkeeper,” called Madam Bones before even Dumbledore could respond to the objection, turning to the wizened old witch who sat before a massive tome containing all of the laws, codices and rules of Wizarding Britain. Tapping the tome with her wand, the woman read a moment in the quiet of the chamber before answering.

“The law addresses that a child must have a guardian until they are an adult, and in the case of a child of muggle heritage or rearing, must have a magical guardian who is subject to the Statute of Secrecy. The law also states that no witch or wizard may sit upon the Wizengamot until they are of age, and have successfully obtained Ordinary Wizarding Levels in all core classes of their education.”

“HAH!” declared the voice triumphantly from his seat, only to be interrupted by the Lawkeeper raising her voice and continuing.

“HOWEVER, there is no law that prohibits the declaration of a child as Head of House by the former Head of House, and there have been precedents where a person not yet of age was named Head of House when no suitable Regent was available for the role.”

Dumbledore looked vaguely like he was going to be ill, Harry noticed, as he looked around the chamber and saw a mix of shock and surprise. He knew that the ‘precedents’ noted had been over two centuries prior, but the way Wizarding law worked it still gave them the opening.

“Clearly the law needs to be amended,” called a voice that Harry recognized, looking towards the speaker and seeing Lucius Malfoy leaning forward.

“Your suggestion is out of order, Lord Malfoy. A law cannot be passed related to a matter of substance, until such time as the matter has been resolved, nor can a law be passed ex post facto, to retroactively address said matter,” Dumbledore said. “Mister Potter is, legally, the head of House Potter as of this moment, by the will of his father the previous head of House Potter.” He looked then to Amelia and Harry, “that does not, however, change that Harry is too young to take up his seat upon this body.”

“Yes, Chief Warlock,” Harry said as he stepped forward, standing up straight and tall, and having made no effort to hide his scar with his bangs like he would normally have done. “However, while the House of Potter recognizes and appreciates the services of our previous proxy, his appointment was not in accordance with the will of my parents nor consultation with any member of the House of Potter. As such, as head of House Potter, I’m here to exercise my right to appoint a Proxy of my choosing.”

Harry couldn’t help but look towards the harumphing from one of the High Seats as an elderly man got up, exiting through the door behind the seat and audibly grumbling about an ‘uppity, insolent boy’. Looking back to Dumbledore, the old man just looked tired as he addressed Harry, “Very well, Mister Potter. Please name your proxy, as we have a full day ahead of us.”

“The House of Potter names Andromeda Tonks nee Black, ally and friend of House Potter, as proxy,” Harry said, before adding, “and thanks this august assemblage for their forbearance in allowing for this correction to be made.” The last was barely heard, amidst the chaos caused by the chosen proxy and the fact of her relationship to the infamous Black family, considering the role Sirius was believed to have played.

Without waiting for the chaos to die down, Harry stepped away from the front and onto the steps leading up to the High Seats, arriving at the Potter seat just as Andromeda was emerging from the doorway behind the seat. Harry was surprised to see that the seat was more like a small box like might be found in a theater or auction house. There was the bench at the front, similar to what a judge might sit at but smaller, and upon the front of which was the crest of the House of Potter. The seat behind the bench would be visible from anywhere on the floor, or the opposite side of the chambers. However, a small step down led to three seats with small fold out tables, where aids to the member could sit, as well as a doorway that lead back to the members office. Harry was aware that the High Seats each had a small (or in some cases not so small) office at the Ministry of Magic, though he also knew that the offices were seldom used beyond small meetings during recesses of longer days. While Andromeda was speaking her oath, though not one bound by magic unfortunately, to uphold the laws and traditions of Wizarding Britain and to faithfully represent the family for which she was sitting in proxy, Harry was settling onto the middle of the seats while Hammer sat to his left. Mad-Eye seemed to prefer to remain by the door, while one of the blue cloaked figures sat in the seat to Harry’s right.

“Well, that’s certainly got them stirred up,” Harry heard the blue cloaked figure chuckle quietly. “Don’t worry about keeping your voice down, Harry. The boxes are enchanted so that only the seat holder and those inside the box can hear what is said inside, short of listening charms cast inside the box or the like. Additionally,” the figure pointed across the chamber to the opposite side of the High Seats, “no one can see who is sitting inside the boxes.” At a derisive snort from Mad-Eye the figure amended, “no one who doesn’t possess a ridiculously and inexplicably overpowered magical artifact prosthetic eye, that he would be advised not to keep drawing the attention of those who could confiscate said eye to, that is.”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh, “I’m guessing you’re Croaker?” he said of the figure.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mister Potter. I’m quite certain that the head of the Department of Mysteries is seated in the appropriate seat on the floor below,” the figure assured. “Of course, since said Department Head wears his cloak with the cowl up at all such public functions, as every previous Department Head has done, you like everyone else will simply have to take it on faith that everyone is where they are meant to be.” The figure seemed to shift then and Harry could guess he was eyeing the scar on Harry’s forehead, “at least, I rather assume you will have to take it on faith, though I could be wrong on that matter I suppose.”

Harry, now quite certain this was Croaker, took a moment before he asked, “So, how should I address you, mystery person who most definitely isn’t really Saul Croaker?” He noticed that Andromeda had sat back down, and half listened to things progressing on the floor as Amelia moved forward with the agenda.

“You can address me as Unspeakable Twenty Two, or simply Twenty-Two,” the figure (that Harry had decided to think of as ‘he’ and was convinced was Croaker) said.

Harry was going to ask something else, before he heard the name ‘Sirius Black’, drawing his attention fully to the Wizengamot proceedings below.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

“In investigating certain matters brought to light by the unsealing and reading of the wills of James and Lily Potter in order to establish proper custodial authority over the minor Harry James Potter, it was discovered that the notorious traitor and mass murderer Sirius Black III, known as Sirius Black, was improperly incarcerated without due process of law. It is to address these egregious oversights that the Wizengamot has been summoned today, to sit in judgment of Sirius Black for the crimes he was accused of and see to it that justice is done. Aurors, bring in the accused.”

Harry couldn’t help but grin at the chaos Amelia caused with her words, though if what she had caused before was chaos, it descended into anarchy a moment later. When Sirius Black was lead into the chamber he was wearing magical suppression cuffs, but he didn’t look at all like a prisoner fresh from Azkaban. In fact, he looked almost as healthy as he had in Harry’s memories of his childhood with his family in the land between life and death. His beard was neatly trimmed and he was dressed in finely tailored clothes, his hair clean and well kept and his eyes bright, face set in determination. It was the first time Harry had seen him in this lifetime, since coming back, and he wanted desperately to call out to the man, but a light hand on his shoulder restrained him as the Unspeakable quietly said, “Soon…not yet though.”

Harry watched as Sirius was escorted to the accusation chair, which Harry had a brief but unspecific memory of having sat in one, and which filled him with a nervous trepidation. As the chains of the chair barely clanked in response to Sirius’ presence upon it though, the Chambers filled with murmuring again.

The questioning began with the rather tame, “Are you Sirius Black the Third, Son of Orion and Walburga Black?”

“I am, though Charlus and Dorea Potter are the only parents I choose to acknowledge,” he responded, voice firm, if a bit scratchy from years of disuse. The response raised another swelling of noise from the assemblage and audience, prompting Dumbledore to raise his wand and fire off another cannon blast.

“If the audience cannot remain silent, I will order them removed so that these proceedings can continue uninterrupted,” he warned. “Members, you will remember your own decorum and remain quiet unless standing to speak.”

“Sirius Black, you are accused of sedition and treason against the Ministry of Magic of Great Britain and Ireland, as well as of being accomplice to the murders of James and Lily Potter, the attempted murder of Harry Potter, the murder of Peter Pettigrew and the murder of twelve Muggle witnesses to your crimes. How will you plead?”

“I am not guilty of any of the crimes stated,” he replied, back straight and head raised, looking right into Amelia’s eyes. The noise level began to raise for a moment, but at a look from Dumbledore the chamber quieted quickly again.

“Will a barrister speak for you?”

“Stephen Levy, of Levy, Orr and Tonks,” he replied as a man stepped forward carrying a small attache case and moving to the table beside the accusation chair.

“Very well, your barrister is noted.”

“My client requests the use of veritaserum for his testimony,” the barrister immediately stated.

The response from Dumbledore’s gavel quieted the noise that was picking up in the chamber, “Mister Levy, you’re well aware that veritaserum cannot be used as evidence of the truth of statements in court.”

Harry looked at the others in the box with him and asked, “Why can’t they use veritaserum?”

It was Moody who replied, “Because it’s possible to beat it, and fake being under the effects. There’s counter agents, but a person can also administer it to themselves in order to build up a tolerance. There’s also mental disciplines that can make it so a person can ignore the suggestive effects of the potion. Because there’s no way to tell if someone is actually under the effect or not, it can’t be admitted as evidence.”

Focusing back on the discussion between Dumbledore and the barrister, Harry heard the man explaining, “While the veritaserum testimony cannot be taken as implicit proof of truth, in and of itself, my client also has offered to take an unbreakable vow the he is unable to overcome veritaserum, is not under the influence of any counter agent, and has not and will not undertake nor be involved in or benefit from any means or method by which to overcome the effects of veritaserum in his testimony today. He requests Albus Dumbledore act as binder for the vow, and is willing to take the vow under wording of the Chief Warlock’s choice.”

Sirius was now staring directly at the Headmaster, a look of mingled anger and hurt, regret and hope. Harry was aware of the fact that Dumbledore had not been informed of all of the matters being brought to light today, in order to limit his ability to interfere with the proceedings. Dumbledore had a look of concern on his face, and watched Sirius for long moments before leaning over to speak quietly to the Lawkeeper while quiet muttering broke out amongst the chamber. For someone to offer an unbreakable vow on top of veritaserum was unheard of, and Harry heard a snort from one of the Lords down the row a ways who called out, “If he wants to suicide by vow, let him, then we can get home earlier!”

Dumbledore rapped his gavel as he and the Lawkeeper finished their discussion, “There is, it turns out, precedent for testimony by unbreakable vow, though it has not been done in living memory. The wording of the vow must be such that the bound cannot be caused to break the vow by, for example, not answering a question called out by an audience member if they’ve vowed to answer all questions truthfully. Mister Levy, I assume you have a written vow prepared?”

“Yes, Chief Warlock,” the barrister replied before stepping forward to offer a parchment up to Dumbledore. The Chief Warlock looked the document over for a few moments, his half moon glasses catching the light as his head moved slightly with his reading. Taking up quill and ink, he made a few changes before passing the proposed vow back to Levy who looked it over. “That’s acceptable to my client,” the man agreed after a moment.

“So be it, if it is Mister Black’s wish to proceed, then there is no legal reason to forbid this.” Harry could hear more than a bit of grumbling at the comment, as Dumbledore stood and moved from behind the bench and down towards the accusation chair. It appeared  though that with the Chief Warlock and Lawkeeper in agreement, no one was willing to try and fight the matter. “Madam Bones, as prosecutor, the oath will be made to you.”

Amelia Bones, for her part, did not seem particularly happy with this turn of events but nodded and moved over, glaring angrily at Sirius as she offered her hand for him to clasp. Strain as he might, Harry couldn’t hear the questions that Amelia asked Sirius then, reading from the agreed upon oath, as Dumbledore held his wand over the clasped hands. He could see the ribbons of fire that looped around the hands though, and sense the growing pressure of magic and nerves in the courtroom as the oath was taken and sealed.

When Dumbledore stepped away after the oath was bound, Amelia moved back to her place at the podium and Lord Nott called out, “Objection! We don’t know what he swore an oath to at all, what are you playing at Dumbledore!?”

“Ah, a mere precaution my dear Lord Nott. As I said, historically the practice fell out of favor because unsavory and clever individuals could often find ways to subvert such an oath, effectively assassinating the person giving testimony while at the same time being unprosecutable for their actions because the effects of oath breaking are always attributed to the one who broke the oath. As such, the full text of the oath will be made available after I have released the accused from the binding following testimony, I assure you, I am within the boundaries of the law in doing so but do feel free to consult with the Lawkeeper if you have any doubt.”

Nott resumed his seat with significant grumbling, and Harry noted that Lucius Malfoy three seats down from Nott was staring with stony faced hatred towards the proceedings, as Amelia called out an auror to administer the proscribed dosage of veritaserum to Sirius.

When finally the questioning began, it wound back to the original questions once more –

“Are you Sirius Black the Third?”

“Yes”

“Are you the son of Orion and Walburga Black?”

“Yes”

“Were you sorted into Gryffindor at Hogwarts?”

“Yes”

“Have  you ever been a member of the organization known as the Death Eaters?”

“No” and at that, a gasp ran through much of the crowd in shock.

“Are you a follower of the Dark Wizard, Voldemort,” she asked then, eliciting a few startled screams at the name being spoken and drawing an eye roll from Harry. At least Amelia wasn’t afraid to say the stupid made up name.

“No” Sirius responded in that same detached tone of voice from the truth potion.

“He’s lying! Everyone knows he was a Death Eater!” someone shouted, drawing a bang from Dumbledore’s wand.

“SILENCE! You will remain silent until the testimony is concluded, or you will be removed from this chamber! As the accused is not dead, he remains under the influence of veritaserum and is therefor telling the truth. Aurors, you will remove from these chambers anyone who interrupts these proceedings again save members of the Wizengamot raising objection or other appropriate motion. Madam Bones, proceed.”

Harry looked towards Dumbledore with surprise at the steel in the mans tone, seeing the focus with which the man was watching Sirius as the questioning resumed. It was obvious to Harry that Sirius had been told by his barrister to keep to one word answers unless there was no alternative, considering his godfather’s normal penchant for letting his mouth fly.

“Were you the secret keeper for the Potters?”

“No.”

The shock on Dumbledore’s face at that was clear to anyone present, and the silence of the chamber as they awaited the expected next question was a palpable thing.

“Who was the secret keeper for the Potters?”

Sirius, his voice still calm and even in the effects of the veritaserum, responded without hesitation.

“Peter Pettigrew…”

And then, the dam broke, as the shouts and calls, screams and demands from both the Wizengamot and the public audience washed over the chamber like a flood.

Chapter Text

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Dumbledore was stunned. And more than that, he was utterly chagrined, as events that transpired in those early days of November in 1981 flooded back and he saw them in new light. He had met with Crouch and Bagnold in the immediate aftermath of the death of the Potters, confirming that Voldemort appeared to have been destroyed and Harry the orphaned survivor. He had, himself, told the pair that Sirius Black had been secret keeper for the Potters identifying the man as the one who likely betrayed them. He had been focused on Harry’s immediate safety then, the boy was too young for floo or apparition to be safe and Fawkes had been but a chick due to his recent burning, so he had entrusted the child to Hagrid to transport safely to Hogwarts for Madam Pomfrey to examine him.

He would have to examine the memories of that night and the following several days in his pensieve back at Hogwarts to be certain, but he realized with dawning horror that things weren’t adding up properly, and that he had been moving so many different directions at once that he had lost track of things. Even more so when the Longbottoms were attacked just days later and incapacitated. In some ways, their attack had been even more horrible, because it came while the nation was rejoicing in the miracle of the Boy Who Lived having defeated Voldemort somehow.

Snapping back to the present, he looked around at the chaos of the Wizengamot chambers and raised his wand, sending off a series of canon blasts that did nothing to bring order to the madness that had descended. An over powered silencing charm from the Elder Wand however plunged the chamber into a sudden stillness that was like dousing the room in a bucket of ice water.

“Well…I dare say you’ll all be familiar with the concept of raising your hand if you wish to speak then,” he addressed the assemblage, then proceeded to ignore the numerous hands that shot up as he removed the silencing spells from Sirius Black, Amelia Bones and Stephen Levy. He did not, however, wait for Bones to continue her questioning as he looked at Sirius sternly. “Sirius Black, when you were arrested following the deaths of Peter Pettigrew and the twelve muggles, you were heard to state that you ‘killed James and Lily’, explain!” he demanded. He had a feeling he knew what was coming, and felt it better to rip the bandage off and have it done.

Even with the numbing effects of the veritaserum, the pain and self-recrimination in Sirius’ voice was unmistakable, as he said into the stillness induced by Dumbledore’s spell. “It was my idea…to change the secret keeper. To have me be the decoy, since everyone would have suspected me of being secret keeper anyway. To have Peter be the real secret keeper… safe… anonymous…” his voice broke as his body shook with a choked sob, “I didn’t know he had gone over. I didn’t know he was a Death Eater, I swear it. Oh gods James, Lily, I didn’t know…” he trailed off as he broke down weeping.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Harry was, dimly, aware that the restraining hand of the Unspeakable had lifted from his shoulder but it was a fact that wouldn’t register until far later. He could vaguely recall the steps leading down to the floor, and Dumbledore saying something quickly before Bones repeated it almost verbatim, the binder and recipient releasing Sirius Black from his oath. He didn’t even notice two Aurors moving to try to stop him, only to be restrained by disillusioned figures.

And then he was tackling his weeping Godfather in the chair of accusation, arms tight about the mans neck and clinging to him, tears staining his own face. While he had memories of a wonderful childhood with James and Lily as his parents, his Godfather and Uncle Moony had been such important parts of that family, and of his childhood, that they were both like surrogate parents to him, and seeing Sirius breaking on that chair was more than he could bear.

Sirius had seen the boy rushing towards him, a moment of shocked recognition, before he was hugging his godson and they were both weeping. It was the moment that would, occupy the full front page of the special edition of the Prophet that would no doubt go out that night. But such matters were far from the minds of the man and boy as they clung to one another and wept for what they had lost.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Long minutes later, it was Amelia who gently started to disentangle Harry from his Godfather. “Shhh, it’s okay Harry,” she said quietly in his ear. “He’ll be able to join you soon, I promise. Shhh now, come on…I’ve got him Sirius. It’s okay, Dumbledore lifted the vow, we just have a few more questions, we’re almost to the end of it now,” she soothed, her hands and Andromeda’s gently drawing Harry away from his Godfather. It was Albus Dumbledore himself who cast cheering charms on both boy and man, helping to get them separated as Andromeda escorted Harry back up to the Potter seat.

Emotions were incredibly high in the Wizengamot Chambers at that point, the display from the notorious man in the chair of the accused and the child who was a beloved national treasure having torn at the hearts of the many who had lost those precious to them in the all too recent war. Harry was only dimly aware of the trip back to the box, but with the help of Dumbledore’s cheering charm, had mostly managed to regain some semblance of balance by the time he was back at the Potter box. He didn’t move into it, instead standing right beside Andromeda’s seat, quite visible as he watched the questioning resume below, cheeks stained with tears and eyes red.

“Chief Warlock, Members of the Wizengamot, at this point it is obvious that Sirius Black is innocent of many of the crimes for which he was incarcerated without trial,” began Madam Bones. “However, the question of the death of Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles still remains to be answered. I submit articles one through four. Article one being Sirius Black’s wand, along with articles two and three being sworn statements from the arresting officer as well as Garrick Olivander that the wand was taken from Black at the scene, and that the wand matches what was sold to Sirius Black before entering Hogwarts. The final article, article four, is documentation provided by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, listing the recent spell memories present in the wand. It is countersigned by the Department of Mysteries, as the wand was never examined in 1981, and the Department of Mysteries had to consult and assist in the examination of the wand after so long without use. Of the more than two dozen spells echoes that could be recovered from the wand, the spells ‘point me’, ‘homenum revilio’ and, of key importance – ‘rodere revilio’. These spells are repeated multiple times each, and no evidence of any form of blasting hex or indeed any offensive spell was found on the wand. With the level of destruction noted at the site, there is no possibility that these weaker spells would remain as echoes while an overpowered blasting hex would not. Additionally, no other wands were discovered either on Black’s person nor in the vicinity of the event, which was magically scanned and cleansed.”

Turning towards Sirius she said simply, “Mister Black, please explain the events of November 1^st, 1981, when you confronted Peter Pettigrew.”

Sirius, calmer now, began to speak. With the emotion of the previous exchange spent, his voice was once again the calm, steady voice of someone heavily under the influence of veritaserum. “After giving Harry to Hagrid, I started tracking Peter. I went to his safe house first, but it was empty, looked like it had been for weeks. There was dust on the floor. I checked his Mum’s place next, before I started just doing the point me spell and apparating to the furthest place I was familiar with in that direction. I caught up with him in some town I don’t even know the name of. But he got the drop on me, he must have known I’d come after him. He shouted ‘Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?’ and then went for his wand. Only he didn’t wait to raise it, but instead blasted the street apart.”

“Mister Black, you were said to be found ‘laughing’ at the scene. Can you please explain why?” Bones asked.

“I thought I was such a clever prankster, me and James and Remus and Peter… The Marauders. But Peter was never really very good at it, and here he was. He’d pulled one over on me and tricked me, and I just couldn’t believe it all.”

“One last question please, Mister Black. You repeatedly cast ‘rodere revilio’, please explain why.”

Sirius laughed quietly, though it was a bit hollow sounding with the effects of the veritaserum. “Because Peter is a rat, not just in name. It’s his animagus transformation.”

“Chief Warlock,” Amelia said, “at this time I request that this court withdraw its accusations against Sirius Black. Given the testimony we have witnessed and the physical and magical evidence from the crime scene, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement does not have sufficient evidence to charge Sirius Black III with any of the crimes to which he has been accused.”

Dumbledore looked about the assemblage as he spoke, “Members of the Wizengamot, those in favor of the withdrawal of charges as recommended by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, please raise your hands,” he said. It would be hard to pursue charges against Sirius without the support of the DMLE, even were the members not to vote in favor of the withdrawal. It seemed that even those who would wish ill for Sirius were aware of the fact, or aware of the number of people present witnessing the proceedings. Either way, well over two thirds of the hands were raised and Dumbledore rapped his gavel once. “Auror, please administer the counter serum to the witness. Sirius Black III, at the recommendation of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, all charges against you are withdrawn and you are released to the custody of,”

“House Potter!” called Andromeda, at Harry’s insistent tugging on her robe.

It elicited a ‘harumph’ from Arcturus Black across the chamber, who stood to state, “The House of Black is as confident in the House of Potter as we were when they first gave my grandson refuge,” before sitting back down without another word.

“Very well,” smiled Dumbledore slightly, “Sirius, I believe you have a cousin and a godson who are going to rather insist upon your convalescence from your ordeal,” he said with a twinkle in his eye as he waved two Aurors over to escort Sirius. “Members of the chamber, we will break for a quarter hour to allow us all to gather ourselves and take care of necessities, and reconvene at the hour. I remind you that the members of the Wizengamot are not dismissed. Members of the public, I remind you of the heavy Auror presence in the Ministry of Magic, and urge you remember the deportment expected within these halls.” With that said, he rapped the gavel on the bench and stood, leaving through the doorway behind the Chief Warlock’s bench.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

The office located behind the Potter seat on the Wizengamot was, currently, full to overflowing such that Unspeakable Twenty Two had cast a temporary expansion charm and conjured more chairs. Harry was sitting on the sofa with Sirius, his godfather having an arm around the boy while Andromeda had claimed the seat at the desk. Stephen Levy was standing near his client beside the sofa while Moody lurked in one corner where he could keep his eyes on everyone. Twenty Two was still visible, though with the raised hood it was hard to count them as ‘visible’, while the other unspeakable was presumably disillusioned. Hammer was standing watch at the other end of the sofa, guarding Harry still.

Madam Bones entered at a quick pace, “Sirius Black I’ve a half a mind to hex off some parts you’re rather fond of, for all of that idiocy,” she growled, “what in the name of magic possessed you to go swearing unbreakable vows!?” she demanded heatedly.

“It..I mean, it was the only way to prove. Had to get free. Needed to,” the man stated, obviously unsettled by the irate woman, who seemed to deflate a bit seeing the response.

She seemed to take a moment to concentrate and center herself before she shook her head, “We have the rat you bloody pillock,” she finally grated out, and Harry felt Sirius’ arm tighten and a tremble pass through the man, excitement mingled with rage.

“Y..you have… The rat?” he asked, shocked, “When? How!?”

Amelia just smirked, “Same day we moved you out of your little vacation home and started nursing you back to health, as to ‘how’, well, let’s just say the Marauder’s have absolutely nothing on the next generation’s trouble makers,” she said with a look at Harry.

For a moment, Sirius seemed confused, before he looked at Harry with dawning understanding of the implication and awe, realizing that Amelia was saying that somehow HARRY had orchestrated both his release and the capture of the traitor. As though that moment of realization was the catalyst, a prompt crashed into Harry’s awareness with far more presence than any of the previous ones had had.

Quest Completed – A Sirius Problem

Your actions have lead directly to the freedom and exoneration of your Godfather, Sirius Black! By the terms of your parents wills, Sirius Black now has custody of you until you are an adult. Additionally, because you have freed Sirius at the earliest possible point in time when you could have freed him, your rewards are increased!

Reward – Unlock Party Member – Sirius Black
Reward – Party Member Unlock – Sirius Black – Memory Shard
Reward – Party Member – Sirius Black – Debuff ‘Prisoner of Azkaban’ duration reduced to 21 days 23 hrs 59 minutes
Reward – Party Member – Sirius Black – 15” Ebony Wand w/ Dragon Heartstring Core
Reward – Party Member – Sirius Black – 1950 Vincent Black Shadow Motorcycle (Heavily Modified)
Reward – Legacy Wand – 9” Beech Wand w/ Dragon Heartstring Core
Reward – Ability Points +2
Reward – Skills - +4 Public Speaking, +2 Persuasion
Reward – Fate +2
Reward – Reputation (Wizarding Britain) +1500 – Current Reputation: Hero (500 reputation to next tier)
Reward – Reputation (House of Black) +2000 – Current Reputation: Beloved Family (Max Reputation Reached)
Reward – Reputation (Wizarding Europe) +500 – Current Reputation: Celebrity (2000 reputation to next tier)

Side Quest Completed – Grampa Scrooge?

Your actions, and the obvious bond between yourself and his grandson and heir Sirius, have convinced Arcturus Black that you are family, whether born with the Black name or not. He has placed his faith, and his hope for the restoration of his once proud family, in yourself and Sirius as he knows his own time is drawing to a close. He has named you next in line in the succession of Lord of House Black after Sirius, a designation that will only change if Sirius has male children of his own.

Reward – Title Gained – of House Black
Reward – Location Unlocked – 12 Grimmauld Place
Reward – Location Unlocked – Chateau Noir
Reward – Gringotts Vault 742 – 250 Galleons monthly allowance

LEVEL UP! You Have Reached Level 6!

You have 4 skill points to spend! You have 1 attribute point to spend! You have 5 ability points to spend*!
* 2 ability points must be spent on the Hearth & Home Tree

Harry blinked as he leveled up, despite having gained a level fairly recently, considering the lack of things that had gone on between. He realized that the quest to free Sirius had been an extremely important one though, and that it must have been weighted accordingly. He also assumed that additional experience might have been part of the reward for completing it so quickly. He was just refocusing after having read the prompts in that heightened state of awareness the system allowed, when a voice from the opposite side of the office drew his attention.

“How very interesting,” the strangely neutral voice said, the keen attention in the inflection at odds with the magical alteration of the voice. Twenty two dipped a hand into his robe, withdrawing a pocket watch and flicking it open, examining the faces inside. “Time dilation, highly localized and precise,” the figure mused. The conversation in the room had died at this point, as everyone focused on the Unspeakable.

Looking up, the figure pushed his hood back to reveal the face of Croaker, eyes alight with excited interest, “Do you want to come to work for me, Mister Potter?”

Where before they’d been staring in confusion, the expressions of shock on the faces of those in the room would have been comical, if Harry wasn’t panicking as he realized that the Unspeakable must have detected something about the system and the level up process.

“Ahh…thanks. I think I want to go to school first,” he hedged, “can we talk…you know. When I’m like, grown up?”

“Of course, of course,” grinned Croaker, “I just wanted to be the first to the well. Amelia has home field advantage since she’s hosting you and your Godfather, so I need every edge I can get,” he said, not seeming to care about the shocked expressions of the others in the room. “Well…whatever the case, that was absolutely worth the wait. I was certain I should keep an eye on you, Mister Potter. I’ll be in touch again, we have so very many things to discuss after all.”

A moment later, the hood was back up and the figure of the Unspeakable faded from view, the door opening and closing as he slipped from the office.

“Uh, Pup…did an Unspeakable just take his hood off and offer you a job?”

“Yup.”

“Seriously?”

“I’m not falling for that. Can we have sandwiches for lunch? And maybe a fizzy drink?”

He ignored the slight pout from his godfather at avoiding the name pun, beaming as Hammer stood, “There’s a guard just outside, I’ll have him send for something, I think it’s gonna be a long day still.”

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Unfortunately, Harry reflected later, Hammer had been right.

When the Wizengamot had reconvened after the short fifteen minute recess, Amelia had announced the next person to go on trial. The trial of Peter Pettigrew gave the Wizengamot an outlet for their emotion from Sirius’ trial and exoneration, and the true guilty party to punish. Pettigrew had proven to be weak willed, unable to stand up to the intense questioning any more than he’d been able to stand up to the aggressive interrogation. When pressed, he’d even admitted that he was hiding from the former Death Eaters rather than from the Ministry.

He had very nearly been sentenced to the veil or Dementor’s Kiss, however an argument had been raised that it was ‘too clean’ for the traitor. That it was one of the ‘Imperiused’ Death Eaters making the argument told Harry which betrayal the rat was to be punished for, but even so. The fact he was to be placed in the cell Sirius had been in, in solitary confinement and under the full effects of the dementors for the rest of his life seemed appropriate. At Sirius’ prompting, Mad-Eye having kept a restraining hand on the former prisoners shoulder throughout the trial to keep him from going after the traitorous rodent, Andromeda had reminded the chamber that Pettigrew was an animagus, which afforded some protection from the effects of the dementors. As a result he’d be serving his sentence wearing heavy cuffs on his ankles and wrists for the full length of the sentence, which would suppress his ability to shapechange while not suppressing his magic. After all, suppressing his magic would make him wither and waste far too quickly under the influence of the dementors.

Quest Completed – Building A Better Rat Trap

The rat animagus Peter Pettigrew was apprehended based on your tip, without any harm befalling the Weasley family. Additionally, he has been brought to justice and found guilty, the people of Wizardin Britain now know the truth, and he will take Sirius’ place in Azkaban to await his final judgement!

Reward – Animagus Transformation Manual – Part 1 of 4
Reward – Spell Scroll – malleum iustitae
Reward – Marauder’s Map – Wormtail’s Copy
Reward – Memory Shard

The next trial was far less personal for Harry, since he had no memory or knowledge of Minister Bagnold. The woman looked to be in her late fifties or sixties, but with magicals it was incredibly hard to tell. She was put on trial for the imprisonment without trial of Sirius Black, as well as accepting bribes, abuse of power and a number of other crimes that had been uncovered in the course of the investigation.

Amelia had pressed her verbally again and again, but Bagnold had seemed to struggle more and more as the questioning continued. Finally, red in the face and sweating, she’d managed to grate out, “Had to…kill…the Blacks!” before she started to choke and seemed to be having a seizure. Dumbledore surged to his feet and stunned her, rushing from behind the bench, calling for healers as Aurors converged on the stricken woman. She’d been taken via emergency portkey to St. Mungos, and Dumbledore had informed the chamber that early evidence suggested that Bagnold had been the victim of powerful long term charms, potions and other means of control, though he couldn’t be certain if she was under the Imperius as well.

Considering her incapacitation and the revelation that she had been under the control of an unknown party for, apparently, more than a couple of years at least, the Wizengamot voted to remove her from office immediately. A round of nominations had gone around and, unsurprisingly Dumbledore had been nominated and declined. Amelia had also been nominated, shocking some people, but had also declined immediately, stating her intent to focus on restoring the DMLE to proper levels.

When Cornelius Fudge was nominated by the man sitting to the right of Lucius Malfoy, Harry had a sudden sense of ominous foreboding and leaned forward. Deliberately leaning too far, so that he wasn’t inside the silencing charm that kept the discussions inside the boxes from being overheard, he’d urged Andromeda. “Auntie Andromeda, Mr. Ogden seemed like he’d be a great leader, I know that I trust him! Can you nominate him?”

Andromeda hadn’t even had an opportunity to do so before an old man in front of and to the left of the Potter seat stood, calling out “House Prewett agrees wholeheartedly with the Boy Who Lived, and nominates Tiberius Ogden for Minister of Magic,” as three other people jumped up to second the nomination.

Harry let Andromeda urge him back into the shadows of the box, smiling as Cornelius Fudge’s career aspirations crashed and burned before they could ever get started. He wasn’t sure what it was the man had done, but the shock of danger and the sure knowledge that the man was an enemy made Harry quite certain he didn’t want him to become Minister of Magic.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

After swearing in Tiberius Ogden as Minister of Magic, Dumbledore consulted with the new Minister and Amelia about the remaining cases and decided on a break for lunch. Harry did indeed get his sandwiches and fizzy drink, though how the Aurors had smuggled a can of muggle soda into the Ministry of Magic without starting a civil war was anyones guess. The office had had to be expanded again, to make room for a table and everyone to be comfortable as they ate, but Andromeda had explained that the High Offices of the Wizengamot, as the rooms were properly titled, were constructed to be particularly flexible for expansion and alteration charms to allow for the comfort and personality of the given Lord or Lady.

Considering he was the new Minister of Magic, Tiberius Ogden had no trouble getting past the Auror guards outside to come in and meet everyone. “Well lad, I guess I’ve got you to thank for ruining my nice quiet retirement?” he’d grumped good naturedly, “I’m glad to know I made a good impression somehow, despite not having ever met you that I’m aware of?”

Harry grinned, “Oh, well, we hadn’t,” he admitted cheekily, deciding to be bold. “But Auntie Amelia and Gran Augusta said you were the sort of person who was fair and honest, and wouldn’t ignore the law just because someone had more money than someone else, or was more important. The man who wanted Mr. Fudge seemed like a bully when he was shouting at people earlier, and I don’t think whoever he wanted would have been the sort to be honest and fair.” He thought about it and then added, “plus I mean, I really like fudge, and if Mr. Fudge turned out to be a bad guy, well. He’d give fudge a bad name!” The look of childish indignation as he delivered the line was, he thought, just perfect. He hoped so at least.

Minister Ogden laughed at the comment, so Harry felt pretty confident, the other adults smiling indulgently at the precocious child. “Well, I’ll have to convey my thanks to Madam Bones and Dowager Longbottom for their kind words, I’m glad to see you’ve got such good influences around you, Mister Potter. I hope I can live up to your expectations,” he said, exchanging a few more remarks with the other adults present before excusing himself to attend to the transition of power.

Harry though, was worrying, he could tell that he was being too ‘noisy’ already. Interfering with the nominations for Minister of Magic had been a spur of the moment idea, an almost panicked response to a name that brought up dread and danger. Now he was second guessing himself though, wondering if he’d already drawn far too much attention. It was bad enough that Croaker definitely knew more than he probably ought to, but on top of that, he’d painted a bullseye on his head by showing off the amount of sway he could exert on the populace. Not to mention having to worry about how it could backfire if Ogden turned out horribly.

“Wanna talk about it, Pup?” Sirius asked, ruffling Harry’s hair as he sat back down beside him.

“Not yet,” Harry said, “maybe later tonight or tomorrow? I’m just…I’m worried. Do you think Mr. Ogden will be a good minister, Sirius?”

Sirius barked a laugh, “Is that what’s got you so gloomy? Don’t worry about it, Bagnold’s term was up in a couple years anyway, and Ogden is only in to finish out the term. It’s not like he’s in for life or anything. It’s a ten year term, elected to start the first day of each decade, but Ministers almost never actually serve a full term. Hell, there’ve been like, 9 ministers in just my life time.”

Harry blinked at that, “What? Why?” he asked, scrunching up his nose in confusion.

“Politics and scandals take most of them down, and the war got a couple too. Hell, old Durrington who was Minister when I start Hogwarts resigned after the very first Death Eater attack after he took office, then packed up and left the country.” He paused to consider, “smart fellow, that one.”

Harry couldn’t help but smile at the joke, “Thanks Sirius,” he said, smiling up at his godfather. “Oh, I have something for you when we get back to the Ossuary…you’re staying with us there, right?”

“For now, at least until things get settled a bit and we figure something more permanent out.”

Harry just nodded, lapsing into silence and sitting close to his godfather, as the few minutes remaining of the lunch break slipped by.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Harry sat with Sirius, Moody still standing close to Sirius in case the somewhat erratic man were to try and jump up, while Hammer was right behind Harry. He wasn’t sure, but if the prickling feeling was any indication, Harry was pretty sure that at least one Unspeakable was still lurking around watching things transpire as well.

It was no surprise to anyone, considering Bagnold’s trial, that the next one to be brought in for questioning was Bartemius Crouch. What did shock everyone in the chambers, was the haggard state that the normally proper old man was in. His robes were in disarray and his face drawn, eyes red and bleary with lack of sleep. He was muttering to himself as he was lead to the chair at the center of the front, the chains winding up around his form to bind him.

“Mistake…was a mistake…so very sorry…Margaret, I’m so sorry…” He didn’t, Harry noted, seem to even realize where he was.

“Auror Tallington, what’s going on here?”

“Sorry, Ma’am, been like that a bit over an hour ‘e ‘as. Mumbling to himself and staring off and the like.”

“Why wasn’t I notified at once?!”

“Err, well ma’am, ‘tweren’t like he was hurtin’ himself or no one else…”

Pinching the bridge of her nose she looked towards the bench, “Dumbledore, is there anything you can do?” she asked, after all he’d been the one to give first aid to Bagnold and likely saved her life in the process. At her words though, Crouch seemed to focus, looking up.

“Dumbledore…thank god…Dumbledore!” He looked up at the aged Warlock, the eyes of the courtroom focused on the interaction, “I tried to hold out…I swear. But it was too long, and they took my wand,” he stammered. “Broke loose. I couldn’t fight hold the Imperius and he’s loose now,” he said, slumping again.

Dumbledore waved his hand for silence at the sudden swelling of noise at Crouch’s words, the man confessing to holding someone under the Imperius shocking everyone in the chambers.

“Who? Barty, who is loose now?”

“M…my son,” Crouch managed, sagging on the chair.

A scream of rage and anguish from not far away drew Harry’s attention then, and he looked down the row to see Augusta Longbottom on her feet, shaking with fury, already being restrained by two other members of the Wizengamot who had been sitting nearby as she tried to force her way towards Crouch in her righteous fury.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Almost an hour later, and Amelia Bones had finally stepped down from the speakers podium, signaling the end of the prosecutions. Barty Crouch Senior had, under the effects of veritaserum that he was far too weak to fight off at this point, confessed to having used his position in the Ministry to fulfill his dying wife’s last wish and rescue his son from Azkaban at the cost of her life. He told how he’d kept the Death Eater under Imperius since early 1982, less than a few months after being sent to the prison for the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom.

That he’d also confessed to having not cared whether Sirius was guilty or not, and had sent Sirius to Azkaban in an attempt to kill off one of the few remaining Blacks to feed his own grudge against the family, was simply a footnote by that point, with the Wizengamot voting overwhelmingly for Barty Crouch Senior to receive the Dementor’s kiss for his crimes, though Dumbledore had argued in favor of imprisonment. The sentence would be carried out at noon the following day, while the DMLE would have the opportunity to seek any other information they could get out of him via potion in the meantime.

Minister Ogden stood, now that Amelia had stepped down from the podium. “I won’t keep us here with some long winded speech,” he started, “I have just the one order of business. As my first official act as Minister of Magic, I call on the members of the Wizengamot to confirm Madam Amelia Bones, acting director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, as Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I believe you will all be aware of her credentials at this point,” he said with a wry look. All things considered, it was no surprise that no one rose to speak against the appointment, though only about eighty percent voted in favor of.

Once Madam Bones had been sworn in to her now ‘official’ role, Dumbledore rose. “I too would congratulate Madam Bones on her well deserved appointment,” he said, his quiet voice carrying and drawing the silence of the crowded chamber. “It seems that today, along with being a day of tragic revelations and sorrowful discoveries, has been a day of change and rebirth as well, as we lift our heads and look towards a brighter future.” He looked around, his blue eyes visible over the half moon spectacles, “And, it seems to me that perhaps one or two more changes might not go amiss.”

“I have been many things in my life, and have striven to do my utmost in all of the many roles I have held in that long life. But having passed my hundredth year, I realize that I am not the spry lad I once was, and I am no longer able to bear the burden of the many duties that this body has called upon me to shoulder.” He gave the room a small smile then, wistful seeming, “I ask that the Wizengamot place upon the agenda for the Summer Solstice the appointment of a new representative to the International Confederation of Wizards, as it is my intent to tender my resignation as Supreme Mugwump at the July conference.” As the chamber began to stir, he raised his hand, “as well, I hereby resign as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, to be effective at the conclusion of the Winter Solstice meeting,” and now the stirring was growing louder, causing him to raise his voice to be heard, “giving time for our new Minister to form his cabinet and the Wizengamot to consider my replacement.”

He paused then, but remained standing, waiting for the noise to die slowly down. “It is no secret that my love has ever been Hogwarts, and the education of our young. I ask of you that you grant me the ability to focus my remaining years upon that task.”

Harry could feel the palpable relief that went through the chamber at that point, as though somehow knowing that Dumbledore would still be at Hogwarts made it all okay still to the people of Wizarding Britain. And they might even be right, though Harry couldn’t help but wonder how things would change as a result of all that had happened today. He glanced to the corner of his vision where what seemed like dozens of notifications were awaiting him, that he hadn’t had the opportunity to examine in trying to keep up with the goings on of the last few hours.

With Sirius’ arm around him, and being escorted by half a dozen Aurors, the small group made a quick escape through the back hallways and into the DMLE, Hammer taking Harry and Moody taking Sirius as the group apparated to the Ossuary.  

Chapter Text

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Harry awoke the morning following Sirius’ acquittal and the subsequent trials and upheaval slowly, eyes blinking as he came awake in the plush bed at the Bones’ manor, the Ossuary.  Memories of the night before filled back into his mind, of the return to the Ossuary and a light dinner, Harry realizing he’d likely nodded off at the table. He could dimly recall being carried up and tucked into bed, realizing after a moment that it was Sirius who’d carried him.

He didn’t get out of bed immediately, but lay there in the warmth of the soft blankets thinking through the events of the last several days. He still worried that he’d acted rashly with moving to block Fudge’s appointment as Minister of Magic, and revealed himself as a threat politically far sooner than he ought to have. Ultimately though, done was done, and there was little he could do to try and fix the matter now except trying to lower his visibility in the near and more distant future.

He and his family had always known that he would have to become involved in politics eventually, the problems in Wizarding Britain were simply too tied up in the political landscape for him to avoid doing so. It’s part of why he’d been doomed to failure in his previous attempts, because the government itself was stacked against him.

With Sirius as a party member though, and exonerated, as well as Andromeda as the Potter proxy and the favor of Arcturus Black, not to mention Bones and Longbottom as allies, and a potential ally already in Cyrus Greengrass as well as Minister Ogden. Now there was far more that could be done to try and change the path that the government was on.

It made him think of something and he reached into the pocket of his pajama pants, pulling a shimmering crystal from within. It had a dark hue in its depth, and felt somehow like Sirius’ presence. Focusing on it and willing his ‘Examine’ skill to activate, a screen appeared in his vision.

Memory Shard – Sirius Black
Rarirty: Unique – Quality: Divine
Memory Shards temporarily bridge the soul of the user with the remnant echoes of themselves from before you restarted your life. The soul will reabsorb the memories it feels most important, based upon the hopes and desires of the soul. You do not have any ability to control or affect what memories will be returned, or how many, but the memories will always be to the benefit of the person using the shard.
Charges Remaining: 1 of 1

It looked like the investment into Examine had improved the level of detail he would be able to obtain while inspecting items, and he briefly pulled out his Hellhound armor pieces, discovering that each now displayed an armor value as well as a quality of ‘Uncommon’ and quality of ‘High’.

“Sweet, boss loot,” he couldn’t help but grin, before stowing the items back away and slipping out of the bed. “Okay, so need to give this to Padfoot, then figure out what to do next when he’s…well…more him. We’re gonna have to find out where Uncle Moony is for starters,” he worried. “And a place to live, we can’t just keep crashing at Amelia’s place…”

Sighing and slipping out of bed, he noticed a set of clothes had been laid out for him on the dresser and padded over, examining them. It wasn’t just one set, he realized, noticing that the drawers had been left partially open so that he would see the clothes within. Several pairs of pants and shirts, along with a couple of robes. He was most shocked to see a couple of pairs of jeans, two pairs of shorts and a half dozen t-shirts of clearly non-magical provenance (he highly doubted that magical shops would have a Transformers t-shirt in stock).

Slipping into the outfit laid out, he noticed a blinking notification and focused on it –

Upscale Wizarding Child – Outfit updated, Variation 3 added.

Confused at the notification he poked around in menus for a moment, startling as he realized that indeed he could switch between any of the three outfits he’d now worn that were of the ‘Upscale Wizarding Child’ variety. He was more shocked when switching out of the outfit caused it to reappear in the clothes basket at the foot of the bed, ready for laundering by the manor’s elves. He toggled back into the outfit of the day, realizing that the outfit he’d worn to leave the hospital was clean and in the drawers, while the outfit he’d worn the day before was now back in the clothes basket. Since he realized the house elves had cleaned it the previous night, he extracted the garments, folded them carefully and put them away again.

“Well that’s ridiculously handy,” he said with a grin, heading for the door, only to pause as he thought of something. “Lolly?” he called quietly, turning as the little House Elf popped into the room.

“Mister Harry be needing Lolly?” she piped, looking at him.

“I’m sorry to bother you Lolly, I was wondering if you knew where my Godfather, Sirius, was right now?”

“Mister Sirry be still in his room, but he beings up for a little while now. Mister Sirry’s room is just across the hall,” she said helpfully. “Lolly be going to tell Mister Siri that brekky be beings served at the hour,” she added.

“Oh, I’ll tell him then Lolly, I was going to go see him,” Harry quickly offered.

“Okay Mister Harry, but don’t be beings late for brekky!” chided the elf before she popped away to her other tasks. Harry smiled, slipping out into the hallway. He didn’t really have experience with House Elves, but his parents had explained them thoroughly to him because of something that had happened in his previous life, though he wasn’t quite sure what. He didn’t really like how some people treated house elves, but his parents had always stressed that he should treat them like part of the family, or part of his hosts family if visiting somewhere else.

Heading into the hallway, he stepped across quickly before knocking lightly on the door, “Padfoot?” he called quietly, turning the handle of the door and easing it open, “you better not be in here ‘grooming yourself’ or I’ll tell Auntie Amelia you need a flea bath!” he called into the room.

“Harry?” came the confused seeming response from Sirius, who was sitting in a comfortable looking arm chair by the window, gazing out on the snowy grounds of the Ossuary before he was distracted. The familiarity of his godson, despite having not seen him, was surprising to the man as he stood. “Is something the matter?”

Harry noticed the tired look in Sirius’ eyes and the slight tremor in his movements, no doubt effects of the ‘debuff’ representing the lingering damage from his confinement. “Nope, breakfast is in about fifteen minutes, but I have something for you first,” he said cheerily, keeping the mood up as he came in and hopped up onto the foot of the bed, faced towards Sirius. “Soooo, I’m not exactly sure how this works, but I’m assured that you’ll appreciate it,” he said then, pulling the crystalline memory shard out of his pocket again. “Oh, and I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good,” he grinned before simply tossing the memory shard to Sirius.

Sirius, reacting in shock at the statement and the tossed object, caught it without thinking, his eyes widening as an expectation of a prank dawned on him even as his fingers closed around the small crystal. What happened a moment later though wasn’t at all what he’d expected before the toss as in a brilliant flash of light the crystal vanished as soon as he grasped it.

Harry watched as, for a moment, Sirius stared off into space, eyes twitching rapidly around as though in the deepest of sleeps. It lasted about three seconds, before Sirius blinked, eyes focusing again and looked towards Harry with a slightly offput look on his face.

“Really? THAT is how you break the news to me?” he asked, shaking his head, only to almost be knocked out of his chair as Harry tackled him.

Catching the crying child Sirius shhh’d quietly, “Hey now, it’s okay… I was only teasing,” he assured, only to get a punch from a teary Harry as the eleven year old in a six year old form pulled back and gave him a grumpy look.

“I MISSED you all,” he complained, “I..I thought..I thought I was ready to come back. But I miss Mum and Dad and you and Uncle Moony so much, and I was scared and I don’t know what I’m doing!”

“Shhhh…I know pup, I know,” Sirius said, hugging his godson close again. “It’s gonna be okay, we’ll find Moony and you know we’re going to do everything we can,” he assured. “Come on now, let’s get cleaned  up,” he said, “Amelia is expecting us for breakfast, and we don’t want her to think I’ve been up here terrorizing you, now do we?”

Harry slowly pulled away, nodding up at Sirius and heading over into the ensuite to wash his face. When he was finished, he returned and looked to his Godfather, “So like, how’d the shard work?” he asked, curiosity helping to drive away the sudden pangs of emotion.

“It’s…weird. The ones for me and Moony aren’t the same as the ones you can use on your friends,” he explained a bit hesitantly. “I got a lot of stuff from the other timeline, with most of my prolonged vacation in the North Sea edited out into a ‘sitting in prison’ montage set to Prongs singing the most off-key version of Mr. Lonely you could imagine. And no, I’m not kidding.” He shook his head, looking wistful and amused, “I remember your childhood with your parents and me and Moony,” he added then, “but after you left to come back, I went straight to a briefing with Iggy and Alora, signed a bunch of things, and then here I am. I get the feeling that there’s time between the two events, but it’s all blocked out.”

“Briefing?” Harry asked, walking back out now that he looked thoroughly presentable again.

“Yeahhhhh,” Sirius drawled, “there’s a lot of chunks of things missing, including a lot of the planning and plotting I know we all did about what all we could do for you,” he sighed. “It boils down to that, as Alora put it, it’s your destiny. It’s not the destiny of Sirius Black to fix the world and be devilishly handsome while doing it, and Moony and I had to agree to a whole lot of limitations on what we could remember and stuff, in order to be allowed to come back to help you. We can advise, but we can’t make the decisions for you, or take the burden for you,” he apologized quietly, reaching out to grip Harry’s shoulder. “Probably for the best, we made a right mess of things, I for one think we’re in good hands,” he added with an assuring smile.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Breakfast turned out to be a lively affair, as Amelia had invited Andromeda and her husband, Ted, to attend that morning in celebration of the previous days victories and to facilitate planning moving forward. Over a full English breakfast Amelia had explained that the WCS, Wizarding Child Services, had continued Amelia’s temporary custody until Sirius could be evaluated and deemed fit to take on his responsibilities as Godfather, a matter more of arranging the necessary interview considering the events of the last few days had proven Sirius to be still in command of his faculties. Little did those at the table know that the Sirius now sitting with them had over a decade of memories recovering in the company of what he considered his true family, to bolster his mental state.

“The bigger problem is going to be where are you going to live,” Andromeda asked of Sirius.

Sirius grimaced slightly, “Grandfather has informed me that since both of my parents have passed, no one is in residence at the Black townhouse in London,” he began, “but I don’t really think that’s a good environment for Harry…” Glancing towards Harry he grinned, “creepy old mansions are only fun to visit, not to live in,” he conspiratorially informed. “The Black estate in the country is in better condition, but it’s isolated and the few memories I have of it from childhood don’t paint the cheeriest of pictures.”

Harry grinned at the comment, though he was a bit distracted as he considered the matter of where to live, before looking back towards Sirius. “What about my family, I mean, Mum and Dad must have had a house…but I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

Amelia coughed, “The Ministry declared your families home to be an historic monument, and it’s been put in a stasis spell and hidden from non-magical observation,” she explained. “I looked into it when going through the things that weren’t seen to in your parents wills. It would have passed to you, but the Wizengamot voted for the compulsory purchase of the property. I will say that they at least paid about fifteen percent more than Gringott’s appraised the home at, at the pre-damaged values. They had, it seemed, hoped to help provide a bit of a nest egg for your future while at the same time honoring you and your parents.”

Harry thought about it, but nodded slightly after a moment, before looking back to Sirius as his godfather said, “As to your families properties, the Potters owned a town home in London like a lot of the old families with influence. There’s also an estate in the country, though I can’t remember where either are, or what condition they’re in. There are spells to protect places and homes, and one of them can make people forget about a house other than a general sort of knowledge that it exists.”

“So how would we find out?” Harry asked, having a pretty good idea of the answer but playing off of Sirius, they’d had time for a quick bit of plotting and decided Harry should ask questions non stop, even about things he knew, to establish his curiosity as explanation for why he might know things he ought really not to yet. If someone asked about where he’d learned something, he’d reply ‘Oh, Sirius told me’ and Sirius would back him up. ‘You lie and I’ll swear to it,’ Sirius had explained about the plan.

“Probably the best bet is to head to Gringotts, and get the goblins on things. I need to see them about more than a few matters of my own anyway, and the Potter account manager should be able to give information about the houses as well as your families accounts.”

“Can’t they stay with us though, auntie?” Susan asked, her eyes big and hopeful.

“They need a place to get to be a family, without having us underfoot,” Amelia said gently to the little girl, “don’t worry though, I’m sure that Sirius will let Harry have visitors and visit his friends, so it’s not like you won’t get to see him,” she reassured before giving Sirius a look that said quite clearly that she intended to be certain of it. Not that the man seemed hesitant. She considered then added, “Gringotts will likely want you to schedule the formal will readings, as well. I used the investigation to appoint myself as executor for the wills, to unseal them, but I’ll arrange to be available whenever you decide to schedule the reading.”

Sirius nodded at that, “I’ll let them know,” he assured.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Despite that she would like to do so, Amelia hadn’t been able to accompany Harry and Sirius on their outing once breakfast had been finished. They had tried to be evasive about the reason, but Harry was able to pick up the subtext and realize that she was required to be present for the execution of Barty Crouch that day. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that whole situation. He hadn’t been targeting Crouch, and didn’t have particularly strong feelings towards the man from his scattered memories of those he interacted with in his past life. Ultimately, he realized that it was out of his hands. Crouch had confessed to his crimes, and the Wizengamot had passed judgment on him.

He was walking down Diagon Alley, holding Aunt Andi’s hand and positioned between her and Sirius, with Ted taking up the rear. Two Aurors were along for the morning, one of them being Auror Hammer and the other Harry didn’t recognize other than having seen him at the Ministry when he’d stayed outside Bones’ office. Considering Harry’s own celebrity status, as well as the shocking revelations of last night’s special edition of the Daily Prophet, as well as this morning’s double sized special commemorative edition, Harry just hoped they wouldn’t need more security.

Thankfully, people seemed to be willing to stare or call out from a reasonably respectful distance, instead of crowding in close. The presence of the infamous Sirius Black, despite the newspaper declaring his innocence and featuring the picture of Harry practically tackling him as he gave testimony, along with the two Auror’s served to temper enthusiasms a bit.

As they walked, Harry was looking confusedly at his interface, wondering why one of his quests had not yet completed.

Quest - Into the Alley

Diagon Alley is the center of Wizarding Britain, where you will find entrances to the Ministry of Magic, Gringott’s Bank and access to shopping for what you will need. Find a way to reach Diagon Alley!

Difficulty: Medium, Rewards: Access to Diagon Alley, Time to Complete: Before 11^th Birthday

Looking the quest over again and thinking about it, Harry supposed that being brought to the Alley didn’t really count as reaching the Alley on his own, perhaps. For the moment, he could only speculate that once he found a way to get to the Alley on his own, he would get the expected quest completion.

As he was walking, he was also considering how to invest the points he’d earned in the mayhem of the previous days. He had four skill points, as well as an attribute point to assign. Even more though, he had a whopping three ability points available to spend, and he was certainly going to be putting them to use. Looking at the skill points first, he decided to bring his Persuasion score up to an even 15 points, it had certainly been important to what he’d accomplished so far. He considered putting points into bargaining but decided it would be too unusual for a five-year-old to haggle. After a bit more thought, he decided to put one point into dodge, bringing it to a 10 and one into academics to help him since he suspected he would begin schooling of some sort soon.

The question of where to place his attribute point was a bit more difficult to decide on. He read through the description of the different attributes, puzzling out the difference between stamina and fortitude. It seemed as though stamina was a measure of the amount of physical energy his body contained, the fuel to drive strenuous activity. Fortitude, meanwhile, was a representation of how tough he was physically. He considered for a moment putting points into one of them, but with the reductions due to being a child currently still in effect, he decided the points would be wasted. Sticking to the plan he and his family had decided on, he went ahead and put another point into Charisma instead, bringing all of his mental attributes to sixteens.

His ability points were another question entirely though. He thought things with the Wizengamot would calm down for a while, and figured that would be more Andi, Sirius, and Amelia’s problem for the time being. Not to mention Minister Ogden and Grampa Arcturus, as well Regent Longbottom. Instead, his attention went down to the Goblin Relations tree. His family had thought making inroads with the Goblins would be vital, and as he looked over the tree, he selected two of the options available from the tree. Goblin Etiquette, which gave him the somewhat familiar sensation of having a tremendous amount of information suddenly ‘remembered’ in his mind. The ability made him understand the ins and outs of dealing with goblins, how to show respect and how not to, as well as a better understanding of the behavior of goblins. Once the slight head rush had passed, he also selected an option from under the ‘Account Manager’ tree – Loyal, guessing a loyal account manager would be a tremendous aid on a long term basis. He blinked as there was a slight flicker in his vision.

“Déjà vu,” he heard the unknown Auror remark to Auror Hammer, “’could’a swore I saw that girl dump her ice-cream cone twice,” he laughed quietly.

Harry looked off to one side at the girl in question, who was now getting fussed at by her mother for ruining her dress. It was, perhaps, a coincidence but it seemed like something to keep an eye out for going forward.

With two of his ability points spent, Harry was considering what to do with the third, when a thought tickled at the back of his mind. The cryptic message his father had given him in the dream had been clouded over with everything going on the previous day, but looking around he immediately spotted one of the Daily Prophet stands.

“Sirius, can you get us a few copies of the newspaper? I wanna see what it says, but I think we should frame one,” he said, giving his Godfather a direct look when the man turned around.

“Ahh…sure pup. Just gimme a sec,” he said, the party halting as he moved over and grabbed a couple copies of the overstuffed edition of the paper. “Here ya go, Harry,” he laughed, “we could probably charge the Prophet a hundred galleons to let them snap a picture of you reading their paper,” he joked as he handed the second copy to Andromeda. While Andromeda slipped it into her purse, Harry was quickly thumbing his way through the paper looking for the classifieds section, pulling it out with a triumphant grin and handing off the rather disheveled rest of the paper to Andromeda.

“Best not let them get a picture of him looking at the classifieds,” Ted laughed quietly, “there’d be a run on space.”

Harry ignored their banter, walking along with his focus on the papers as he skimmed for anything that jumped out to him as recognizable. The adults, meanwhile, were chalking it up to simply another strange behavior from the boy who had turned the world on it’s side the past few days. It was on the third page, just before getting to the ‘personals’ section of the paper, that he found what he was looking for.

An advertisement for a company named Drama Sure, Inc. He’d have overlooked it entirely if not for the logo, which depicted a stag silhouetted against a moon, with a fleur-de-lis hanging from one of the stag’s antlers.  It only took a moment to realize the anagram of ‘Drama Sure’ as ‘Marauder’s as he skimmed the brief advertisement. The advertisement itself was for acting classes at an outrageous price, but the company logo at the bottom of the advertisement caught his attention.

“A Guiding Light to Find a Path”

Folding the last of the paper up and handing it off to be put away as well, he offered no explanation as he focused on his interface, thinking the strange sequence that he’d been given to activate the cheat system, before quietly saying, “A guiding light to find a path.”

Feature Unlocked – Hint System

Immediately, Harry noticed a strange gold colored glow up near the top left of his interface, focusing on it. As he did, the small icon expanded to show his party interface.

Party (Current Party Members – 0 of 2)
Add party member? <Y/N>

Focusing on the option to add a party member, the screen displayed a new set of information.

Party Members Available
Sirius Black – Rank 1 – Limited Party Member
Neville Longbottom – Rank 1 – Party Member – Out of Range
Complete quests to unlock new party members!

Harry, not wanting to continue acting too strangely, selected Sirius from the list and sent a party invitation, unable to stop himself from grinning when his godfather suddenly stopped, staring into space ahead of him a moment before shaking his head slightly. He seemed to either understand or guess what was going on as a moment later his name appeared in the party area of Harry’s interface.

‘Test one two, test one two…can you hear me Padfoot?’ he thought, focusing on the party in his mind. When he saw Sirius nod, he continued, ‘try and think what you want to say, but intend for the party to hear it…’ he explained.

‘Harry? Wow…this is very odd,’ he heard Sirius over the party chat, a slight tinny wispiness to the words. ‘Dead useful though, imagine the trouble we could have gotten up to at school if we’d had this level of secret communication!’

Harry managed to stifle a laugh at the enthusiasm and mischief from his godfather, as their conversation was cut short as they arrived at the steps of Gringotts.

The front of the snowy white, multistoried bank was an impressive and intimidating view, with the gold lettering declaring Gringotts Bank above the large double doors. As they mounted the steps, two goblins stood just outside the doors, visibly armed and armored considering the unrest of the last few days. They had no trouble going inside though, and soon were stepping up to the counter.

‘Sirius! Be polite, we need the goblins help, and the way purebloods treat them makes them hostile!’ Harry thought urgently to his godfather, throwing out a few quick ideas over the mental link of the party chat.

Sirius, willing to humor Harry at the very least it seemed, gave a small bow of his head to the teller. “Greetings teller, we’ve got a number of matters to see to this morning, and are unfortunately without an appointment due to the unexpected and urgent nature of our business.” Sirius stated to the goblin at the desk, “Would it be possible to meet with the account manager for House Potter, as well as Ricrol, and whomever is handling the wills of James and Lily Potter?”

The teller betrayed no hint of surprise at the respectful approach that most might notice, but Harry was watching closely and noticed the way the goblin’s ears flattened in towards his head just a faint bit, the outward evidence of surprise in the species as clear as the widening of eyes in humans.

“Very well, follow me,” the teller said, hopping down from his seat and coming around to lead the group through a doorway to one side, another goblin immediately taking his place to serve the next customer. He lead the way to a small conference room, and showed them inside before perfunctorily stating, “Wait here,” as he left and closed the door behind.

“Friendly chap,” remarked Ted, “who’s this Ricrol fellow, Sirius?”

“Oh, he was my account manager. After I ran away, Uncle Alphard helped me get my inheritance and put it in a separate account, before my mother could disown and disinherit me. He doesn’t handle any of the big family accounts or anything, but he’ll hopefully be able to tell me how I’m doing, and what I need to do to get things back in order.”

“I don’t really know much about like, money and stuff,” Harry admitted, looking at the adults. “I know my parent’s will basically makes me in charge of what they left, but I’m not really sure what I ought to do?”

“Well,” Sirius said with a smile, “that’s part of why I asked Ted to come along. I’m not sure who your dad or grandfather had as their barrister, but all things considered I think we can agree they fell down on the job.”

Harry could only nod agreement to that point, considering everyone that the family cared about had been left to their fates, and that his parents wills had not ever been executed.

“That’s a great idea, Uncle Ted, do you wanna be the lawyer for House Potter? I heard a rumor that they do most of their business and stuff through their proxy on the Wizengamot, and I think you’ll like her!” He grinned, seeing the others smiling.

“I’d be glad to, Harry. I’m actually a partner at a small law firm, and you might want to consider hiring the firm instead of me specifically though. My friend Stephen focuses on criminal law, he was the one representing Sirius at the trial. My focus is more on contracts, while our other partner Deborah Orr focuses on civil matters. Considering what I know so far, I think House Potter might have business with all of us.” He reached into the attaché case he had sat beside his seat and pulled out a neatly bound scroll. “I went ahead and prepared appropriate documents, for you and Sirius to look over. If I might suggest, you could also ask your account manager’s opinion of the contract. An account manager’s own wealth grows through the expansion of their client’s, so generally speaking they’ll have your mutual best interests in mind. Additionally, regardless of your elevation to head of house, he will still view you as a child and while goblin’s find it entirely honorable to fleece adults of their coin, they consider it the height of dishonor and bordering upon a sin to mislead or steal from children.”

“Indeed we do,” growled a gravelly voice as the door opened, admitting five goblins. One, the one in the lead who had spoken, Harry immediately recognized from a few days before when his parents wills had finally been opened. He didn’t recognize the two behind him, but the two in the rear wearing armor and holding weapons were clearly guards. “Which brings us to an unfortunate situation this morning. In expectation of this meeting, as well as preparation for the will readings of the late Lord and Lady Potter, I began looking into the state of the Potter accounts. The former account manager, Drukbol, seems to have been rather generous with his interpretation of his duties.”

His attention turned to focus on Harry, “I assure you that Gringotts will recover every coin that is due to your accounts, with interest. A thorough investigation and audit is underway, and all of Drukbol’s assets have been seized as penalty for his crimes.”

“O..oh.. Um, thank you,” Harry said, surprised to find out that he had been being stolen from. The goblin etiquette kicked in then, and he straightened up as he bowed his head slightly. “I thank you, Ragnok, for your efforts on my behalf and on behalf of my accounts. May I ask to the fate of the one who has wronged me?” He realized he probably didn’t want to know, but also knew that it presented a chance for the goblins to regain a lost honor by proving the punishment of the criminal.

Harry’s suspicion was proven immediately correct, when Ragnok gave an almost feral smile, showing a tremendous number of very sharp teeth. “Drukbol’s statue is now in the commissary where account managers most often dine.”

“Wait…you made a statue of him?” Sirius asked, sounding confused, a nod from Andi suggesting she’d been about to ask the same.

“No, we made a statue OF him. There is a goblin ritual that transmutes the substance of a thing into a sampled mineral. The sampled mineral is consumed in the process, so it cannot be used to produce more of anything, and the transmutation is quite slow. Since Drukbol was more fond of gold than of honor, he got to spend his last hours becoming what he loved so much.”

Andi seemed on the verge of a shocked exclamation, but restrained herself at a touch from Ted. Sirius looked a bit sick himself, while Harry tried to imagine what it would be like to have his body slowly turned to metal while he was still awake. With a little shudder, he shook his head slightly to banish the thought.

“I..thank you for your thoroughness. I will be pleased to continue the business between House Potter and Gringotts Bank.” There was more he really ought to say, but he decided to leave it at that, guessing it would be more than enough for a child.

Ragnok gave a nod as he moved on. “In that case you will be needing a new account manager,” said the goblin, “you may of course conduct a search of your own, however I would suggest Bodnok as a suitable replacement.” He motioned to one of the other goblins which had entered. “Beyond being of my clan, a relationship that you humans would refer to as ‘nephew’, Bodnok’s own sire was murdered by your familial enemy. He will be a fierce and loyal steward of your moneys and entirely unwilling to barter with your enemies.”

Harry, recognizing that this goblin was certainly the effect of the system and the ‘Loyal Account Manager’ upgrade he had selected, gave a nod immediately. “Thank you Ragnok, and you as well Bodnok. I look forward to working with you as the Potter Account Manager. May we bring ruin to our enemies and gold to our vaults.”

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

It was past lunch time before the group was finished with the account managers. While it had been a very long morning, it had been a productive one. In addition to meeting a new account manager, they had accomplished a number of other tasks. The goblins were already privy to the full text of the will, since they were arranging to have it formally read and executed, and so recognized Harry as head of the House of Potter and a young Lord. They were, however, quite willing and pleased to accommodate his request to have Sirius act as his regent until Harry chose to assume the responsibilities of his duties.

Once that was settled, Sirius and Harry had immediately signed a contract retaining Levy, Orr and Tonks as the designated law firm for the House of Potter.

The bank had also provided an audit without charge for the account, considering the actions of the former Potter account manager. Bodnok had gone through and identified a number of bad investments and loans that had been made, that were inconsistent with the way that the Potter accounts were supposed to be handled. Sirius had wasted no time in instructing Bodnok to call the loans due and divest the family of the shady investments. Going over the current standing of the accounts, Harry realized that he would have a hard time spending the amount of money that he had as the last Potter. While the Potter families liquid assets might not be the equal of the Blacks or Malfoys, they were extremely well invested and even living extravagantly, the income alone would more than supply for Harry and a large family. They had received information on the existing Potter properties and their current statuses, which included a town home in London, the families country estate and the Godric’s Hollow cottage that his parents had lived in. The cottage had of course been claimed by the ministry, and this was among the first things that Tonks and his partners would be looking into. Unfortunately, the estate was in similarly poor condition, though the goblins informed Harry that the majority of the furnishings of the estate had been moved into the family vault for storage after the death of Harry’s grandparents. It meant that despite the near destruction of the family’s manor, little had been lost besides the building itself.

Sirius’s own financial situation was in a much better state. Apparently, his last instruction to his account manager, Ricrol, had been along the lines of ‘do whatever you want to make me money, just as long as it’s not illegal’. Having had basically cart blanche with a fairly sizeable amount of gold and no supervision, along with a client expected to die in prison with no known heir, the goblin had used the account for all of the best opportunities he came across instead of passing them to his other clients. After all, if Sirius died imprisoned and heirless, with no immediate family left, he expected the bank might well be able to seize the vault and give him an even larger cut. Since he’d been making a quite healthy sum off of the account even just from his own fees and percentage, he wasn’t too upset to have Sirius back among the active. Sirius had taken one look at his account statement and the growth Ricrol had managed, and simply told the goblin to keep up the good work and take an additional two percent for his commission.

Harry and Sirius instructed Bodnok to get bids on the rebuilding of Brickmoor, the Potter Country Estate, and obtained a portkey and wardkey for River Rock Manor, the London town home. They also visited the vaults and took out a sizeable number of galleons, having a fair amount converted into muggle pounds. Harry was surprised when, while visiting the Potter family vault he noticed not one but three familiar seeming vortexes of swirling light.

Dungeon Found – World Dungeon: Potter Family Vault – Recommended Level: 10
Dungeon Found – Challenge Dungeon: Potter Family Inheritance – Recommended Level: 10 (Solo Only)
Dungeon Found – World Dungeon: Gringotts – Recommended Level: 15, Party Size: 3+

“Merlin, are those what I think they are?” Sirius asked, shocking Harry until he remembered that he had added his godfather to his party.

“Dungeon entrances, though I’m not high enough level to do them yet. Oh hey, wait, what level are you Padfoot?”

“I don’t know, how would I know?”

“Do you see like, a floating health bar or something up around here,” Harry made a vague sort of motion to the top left of Sirius’ vision.

“Noooo, should I? Wait, do you?”

“Yeah, the whole interface thing is like in one of the later video games we played, and some of it is usually floating in the corners of my vision.”

Concentrating on the ‘help’ feature of the interface, he skimmed through until he found what he was looking for. “Crud, I have to buy the ability to let party members and companions use the interface,” he complained.

“Ouch, but I mean it makes sense, considering how much it’s supposed to help you, pup. Plus there’s no telling what sort of shenanigans I and the rest of your band of merry misfits will get up to if you do,” he grinned.

Continuing to look through the help files, Harry found more information on party members.

“Oh, it says here that if a more experienced person is in my party and we enter a dungeon, their level and abilities will be scaled down to match my own. They retain all knowledge and skills, but the effectiveness of their actions will be limited by my own current potential. Drat, I guess that means no power levelling,” he said.

Sirius smiled, reaching out and ruffling Harry’s hair, “No reason to rush, especially not this early. We’ll come back for these when you’re a bit older, maybe when you’ve picked up some of your other party members. If it works like games we played, I probably wouldn’t grow much from helping you in one of them, but some of your friends would really get a lot of benefit.”

Harry nodded, conceding the point, and the pair headed back out and onto the rollercoaster like cart ride to head back up. Now that he was paying more attention though, Harry looked around as they rode, and was sure he saw at least three more swirling dungeon entrances, though he thought one of them looked bright red instead of the usual swirl of colors.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Since Ted and Andromeda had headed off to other errands when Harry and Sirius headed down to the vaults, it was just the two of them and their pair of Auror guards as they headed back out into the Alley. The goblins had been gracious enough, after charging the cost to Sirius’s account, to provide a tray of sandwiches for the group while they had been busy clearing up account matters, but they headed on to the Leaky Cauldron for a proper meal in a private room. Sirius insisted the pair of Aurors join them, with a smiling Harry nodding along, and after an enjoyable if late lunch they headed back into the Alley once more.

The shopping trip was actually less horrifying than Harry had expected shopping for an entire wardrobe to be, as they’d headed into Twilfitt and Tattings to have them both measured. Sirius selected a couple of basic outfits for each of them, then purchased two copies of their catalogue, spelled for his and Harry’s measurements. They’d gone to Madam Malkin’s and repeated the process, though this time while Sirius was selecting a few outfits for each of them, Harry was playing with the Twilfitt and Tattings catalogue.

The catalogue was a flip book, much like the rolodex his Aunt Petunia used to keep telephone numbers, but with an attached cover that opened like a book. The cover featured a mirror inset when the catalogue was opened and laid open flat on a table. Once opened, Harry could flip through the heavy parchment pages of the flip book on the right hand half of the book, which showed drawings of various garments as well as small samples of cloth in various textures and colors. One of the Aurors showed him how tapping a wand on a garment would make the mirror show a nondescript form like a mannequin, wearing the garment, and then tapping on various material options could cycle through what the garment would look like with different color and style options. Harry almost pulled out his own crafted wand, but decided that showing that off in public might not be the best idea currently.

Once Sirius had another set of bags shrunken and tucked into a pocket, they headed to a few other stores to pick up some basic necessities, as well as a stop off at Flourish and Blotts for an owl order catalogue. Harry, spotting Eeylops Owl Emporium, eagerly pulled Sirius over but was disappointed not to find the expected owl in the shop to complete his quest to reunite with Hedwig.

Sirius, deciding that it had been a very long day, and seeing Harry’s disappointment at not finding Hedwig yet, decided it was time for the pair to head back to Bones manor for some rest.

Chapter Text

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

As Harry awoke the next morning, he stretched and slipped out of bed, stumbling half asleep to the bathroom to take care of his morning rituals. The previous day had been a long one, and he was after all quite young still. In addition, the last several days had been an absolute rollercoaster, and not in the ‘riding Gringotts carts’ good way either. In a matter of just five days, he’d managed to get away from the Dursley’s and into the care of people who legitimately cared about him, as well as starting onto the path towards financial independence to help him in the future.

Stepping back into his bedroom at Bones Manor, he opened his interface and simply fast-swapped outfits into one of the new outfits Sirius had bought the previous evening. The Bones house elves had put everything away from yesterdays trip, and since it was properly stored in his assigned room, he was able to quickly and easily swap into the various outfits. He was surprised to see that his ‘Outfits’ tab in his inventory screen had changed. There were now three separate sub-tabs on the screen, ‘Wizarding’, ‘Mundane’ and ‘Combat’. Looking at the Combat tab, he realized his ‘Battle Gear’ set of the Hellhound Hide was slotted into place. In his ‘Wizarding’ and ‘Mundane’ tabs, there were a dozen slots for assigning different outfits, as well as a ‘Random Wardrobe’ button. As he clicked on the ‘Random Wardrobe’ button, he was surprised as a floating info window appeared.

Random Wardrobe
When selecting Random Wardrobe, your current outfit will be selected randomly from appropriate attire for the category and condition. Note that increasing your ‘Fashion Sense’ skill will affect the degree to which the selected items are appropriate coordinated, however, the items shall always be sensible and appropriate to the situation. For example, you will not be equipped with swim trunks to go to a form dinner, or Wizengamot robes to go shopping in Diagon Alley.

“Well…that’s dead useful. I hate to burn skill points on ‘fashion sense’ though,” he thought aloud as he looked over his sheet. “But since I was credited for a lot of skills from past life experiences, I think it’s safe to say I can level up skills outside of just spending points on them. I wonder if I can unlock abilities for free through other methods as well,” he wondered as he cycled through several menus on his interface.

He currently had a number of primary quests, most of which dealt with gaining party members before it would be time to head off to Hogwarts. There were a few though, such as his quest to go to Diagon Alley, or to Gringotts, that he thought should have completed yesterday but didn’t. The best he could guess for the moment, they didn’t count as completed because he wasn’t under his own authority or free to act really during his visits. It seemed like he had side quests for every single party member his own age as well, to help find their familiars for them.

Looking into his menus, he also looked at the ‘Limited Party Member’ that was associated with Sirius’ name.

Limited Party Member
Some Party Members are marked as ‘Limited’, meaning these party members contributions to your goals will be reduced in some way. The most common of these limitations is for party members who are not in your generation, and so not as closely tied to your destiny or whom would be significantly unavailable to assist with vital tasks. For example, while the contributions of the adults in your life will certainly be impactful, they cannot be with you when you attend school at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and so their impact upon events during your school years will be lessened. Additionally, limited party members will often have their attributes and skills reduced to approximately your own level when assisting you in dungeons or events, so as not to impede your growth.

“No power leveling,” Harry mused with a sigh.

Shrugging, he closed out of the menus for now and headed down to breakfast.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

After breakfast was cleared away, Sirius looked to Amelia, “When we spoke with the goblins yesterday, they suggested Tuesday for the Will readings. Unless you have an objection, the notices will go out today and the reading will be at nine.”

“No, that’s fine. I’ll let Janice know I’ll be late to the office that morning,” she said easily. “That’ll be one less issue waiting to be resolved. What do you two have planned in the meantime?”

“I’m thinking house hunting,” Sirius said, “Grandfather offered for us to stay at Chateau Noir, but a drafty old castle in the middle of nowhere and cut off from everyone isn’t a great option for a boy to grow up in…” He glanced towards Susan and coughed, realizing it might have sounded judgmental of Amelia’s own situation and hurried on. “I grew up in the Black town home in London, and I won’t let Harry anywhere near that place before I’ve had a team of curse breakers, a half dozen redecorators and probably an exorcist go through it.” He paused and then amended, “twice.”

Amelia just snorted, “So not a Black property, and I’m guessing the Potter properties have issues?”

Sirius and Harry nodded, with Harry volunteering, “We have an estate too, but the goblins said it got destroyed when my grandparents died, and well. The Ministry took my parents house,” he said with a sort of grumpy pout.

“Ted and his people are looking into that one, just to give you a heads up since you’ve been so good to us,” Sirius added to Amelia. “There’s a Potter town house in London as well, that’s apparently in good condition. But I remember it being a bit more formal for someone to grow up in. More like living in a museum of the families accomplishments, James told me they really only used it to do dinner parties and mostly with people they didn’t like enough to invite back to Brickmoor.” The wistful amusement in Sirius’ voice couldn’t be missed.

“So how do we shop for a house?” Harry asked, curious about the process. He was eager to break into the ‘Hearth and Home’ category of his abilities, especially since he had two free points to spend in that category, as well as a point still lurking about unspent for general used.

“Well, we have an appointment in about an hour to see an estate agent that Bodnok recommended,” Sirius said, “we’ll sit down with her and explain what we’re looking for, then see if she has anything that might be fitting. Apparently she’s got a ton of contacts in the muggle real-estate markets, and somehow gets access to all sorts of properties being sold all over the country.”

“Well, sounds like you two have a busy day ahead of you,” Amelia said, “Susan, are you going to go visit Hannah today?”

“Yes Auntie,” she looked to Harry and gave a small, sad smile, “I was going to invite you to go, but it sounds like you and Mr. Black have a lot of stuff you have to do.”

“Don’t worry Susan, once we get settled, he’ll have more time to visit,” Sirius promised.

“Yeah, and we can invite Neville to come visit too,” Harry quickly offered, “he’s really nice, and I think he’s kind of lonely.”

“That sounds like a wonderful plan,” Amelia said, “Susan, why don’t you go ahead and floo Hannah’s and if they’re ready you can head on over,” she suggested. Susan nodded, then came around the table and hugged Amelia, before moving to hug Harry too very quickly before heading into the receiving room where the floo was.

Harry, surprised at the quick hug, said nothing and steadfastly refused to notice Sirius’ smirk or Amelia’s smile.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Sirius side-alonged he and Harry to the apparition point of Diagon Alley. Unlike the previous day, the pair didn’t have an Auror escort this time. Instead, Sirius had snagged a pair of glamour pendants from his vault the day before. Harry had tried to wheedle just why Sirius had glamour pendants out of him, but his godfather wasn’t willing to give up the details.

“Padfoot,” Harry began, now sporting brown hair that reached down to his shoulders, a slightly tanner complexion and dark brown eyes asked as they walked down the street, “I think we need to buy whatever we pick out with my account and funds. There’s a ‘Hearth and Home’ system, but I don’t think it will count if I’m not able to claim the place we’re at.

Sirius considered, “That actually works, Bodnok was pretty insistent that the property ought to be a Potter property. I had assumed that it was just him wanting to prove his worth by starting out some good investments, and real estate is always a good investment. But, with what you say, there might have been more to it.” Harry’s godfather’s normally longish hair was shortened by the glamour and neatly combed, his face cleanshaven and making him utterly unrecognizable from the pictures in the Daily Prophet.

“Well, I bought an ability on the way to Gringotts for a ‘Loyal’ account manager,” Harry explained, causing Sirius to look over in shock.

“Wow, Pup…that’s a hell of an ability. I wonder if it caused,” he paused to think, nodding, “it would almost have to have. I’m guessing you buying that triggered the exposure of the previous account manager, to make it possible to get a new one.”

“I think so too, but I mean, I don’t feel bad about it if he was stealing from me. There’s no telling how bad things would have gotten! So, you’re not upset with me wanting to buy whatever house we pick?”

“Not at all, it makes sense, one thing we all talked about after you headed back was how important it was to keep in mind that ultimately, it’s going to have to be you. No matter how much we wish we could take care of things for you, we can’t. Our role is to support you and help prepare you,” he reached out and gripped Harry’s shoulder, “and of course, to make sure you always remember that your family loves you.”

Harry smiled, a pang of sorrow at the separation from his parents filling him for a moment, “thanks Padfoot.”

They walked on a bit, heading for Vertic Alley where the estate agent had a small office. “Now, that’s not to say I won’t have some very strong stipulations,” Sirius grinned. “Lily was adamant that you should be enrolled in a proper school until it was time to go to Hogwarts, and I’m too scared of her not to do as she says. So we’ll need something with a good school nearby, which means we’re probably looking at muggle neighborhoods. It’ll need enough land that we can set up a proper warded area, and it needs a good-sized basement. It’d be nice if there was a fair bit of woods nearby, but that’s probably a long shot.”

“Can we have a swimming pool?” Harry immediately chimed in, looking for all the world like his five years old as he beamed up at Sirius, eliciting a laugh from the young man.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Rachel Hopkins, of Hopkins Estates, turned out to be a somewhat short witch who looked to be somewhere in her thirties, and just a faint bit on the heavier side. Of course, it was hard to tell a witches age for Harry, considering that magicals tended to age more slowly after their school years. Still, once their glamours were removed, she didn’t seem to know Sirius other than from the Daily Prophet, so Harry guessed she was well outside his parents peer group.

Her office was a small single room on the second floor above Dawson’s Delicacies, and the scents rising up from the bakery below were, in Harry’s opinion, absolutely amazing. It helped that the Witch had a small tray of pastries for her clients as well as tea set out, and Harry was sure if he was attempting to do business out of this office he’d end up looking like Dudley in no time.

After the pleasantries were done and everyone had sampled one of the small pastries, Harry’s was a cherry tart and delicious, Ms. Hopkins smiled and explained, “my mother was a muggle and an estate agent, she used to always say that if you want a house to sell, bake something in the oven before you show it to a potential buyer. I don’t know if renting an office above a bakery is quite the same, but it certainly makes coming in on a morning far nicer.”

Sirius laughed and Harry could only grin and nod, before Sirius asked, “Did Bodnok give you any sort of idea what we were looking for?”

“No, but that won’t be a problem,” she assured, “my cabinets,” she motioned to a bank of what looked like regular metal filing cabinets, “are automatically refreshed with properties listed by any of the estate agents I have agreements with, both mundane and magical, so we shouldn’t have any problems finding what you’re looking for.”

Nodding, Sirius began to lay out their requirements for the sort of property they were seeking, while Ms. Hopkins made notes on a parchment. Harry noticed that she wasn’t simply writing the notes in order as Sirius and her discussed requirements, but rather moving back and forth in the parchment as though filling out a form. Once satisfied that she had the gist of her clients needs, she made some more notes on her parchment, before nodding.

“Right then, let’s see what we have,” she said before raising her wand towards the cabinets and incanting an exceedingly long spell. It took nearly a minute, and she held the parchment she’d been making notes on up as though reading from it as she cast, her wand making faint swishes and various cabinet drawers glowing, their colors cycling. Finally, as she ended the spell five drawers opened on the cabinets and six different folders flew out, settling in a neat stack on her desk.

Harry watched the spell casting in wonder, certain that no matter how many lives he lived, he’d never get tired of witnessing magic. When the folders flew out of the filing cabinets though, his attention was immediately riveted as the glowing light of his ‘hints’ cheat, illuminated one of the folders. When Ms. Hopkins passed the folders over for Sirius to look through, Harry reached out and plucked the glowing folder from the stack, opening it in his lap and looking at it eagerly.

He didn’t know why it was glowing, but the neighborhood was very upscale, with a quite prestigious school for gifted students nearby, the house was larger than they really needed with eight bedrooms, but they had money to spare. A large cellar would give plenty of space to set up not only a space for Remus when he transformed, but also to set up anything that they might need to as far as a potions lab or the like. There was a large bit of land attached, leading down at the back of the property to abut a large area of nature preserve with no public access permitted. The outer perimeter of the property had a low wall on three sides and a gate at the drive up, while hedge walls marked off portions of the vast yard for a large garden and even a football field.

“This one,” Harry said, handing it to Sirius, beaming at him excitedly. Sirius put down the folders he was looking over, opening the one Harry handed him and looking through the pages before letting out a low whistle.

“Wow, pup, it does look just about perfect,” he had to admit, “a bit on the pricey side.” It was true as well, the asking price for the lavish abode was listed at nearly a million pounds, and Harry figured that to be around two hundred thousand galleons.

“I know, but this is the one, Sirius,” Harry urged, his eyes excited.

“Ms. Hopkins, can you arrange for us to see this one?” he asked, passing the folder over to the woman, who if she took the exchange between the child and his godfather to be at all unusual, certainly didn’t show it.

Looking over the folder she nodded, “Of course,” she assured, opening a large planner on her desk after checking something in the file folder. She tapped the planner twice and frowned slightly. “Would tomorrow work,” she asked, “the estate agent that this is listed with on the muggle side of things is out of the office today, but will be showing another property just up the lane from this one tomorrow. If that’s satisfactory, I’ll make the arrangements and owl you the details and a portkey this afternoon?”

“That would be fine, if you wouldn’t mind keeping the other files handy just in case something goes wrong,” Sirius agreed, ignoring Harry’s grumble for the moment. “I have to say that so far, this is far less painful than I’d expected,” he grinned then standing up and reaching to offer Ms. Hopkins his hand. “If there’s nothing else, we’ll see you in Crawley tomorrow, Ms. Hopkins.”

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

It was still well before lunch as they headed back towards Diagon Alley, and Sirius looked down at Harry walking beside him, the pair once more in their glamours.

“Why that one?” asked Sirius, “you picked it out of the middle without even looking at the others.”

“Oh!” Harry exclaimed, realizing he hadn’t told Sirius. Quickly inviting Sirius into a party with him, since the one from yesterday had dissolved when he slept, he explained in the party chat. “Sooo, it’s kind of a lot, but apparently Mom and Dad managed to get to be the ones to check in when I hit milestones, so I had a dream about them. This was before the trial, so I kinda let it slip my mind until yesterday when I saw the Daily Prophet. Dad whispered to keep my eye on the classifieds right before the dream ended, when he was hugging me.” He paused, reaching up and brushing away the tears threatening his eyes and quickly continued. “When I looked yesterday, there was an add for acting classes from ‘Drama Sure, Inc.’ which is an anagram for Marauders, and the logo was a stag in front of a moon, with a fleur-de-lis hanging on it’s antler. Moony, Prongs and Lily. Anyway, it had another cheat code…this one for a ‘Hint System’. It immediately reminded me to add you to my party, which I’d forgotten, and then didn’t do anything else really until the folders came out this morning. Then it made that one glow.”

“Cheat system?” Sirius asked in confusion, causing Harry to look at him with a bit of alarm.

“Wait, you don’t know about it?” Harry asked over the party chat, alarm evident. “But… The first code seemed like it was from you, and it gave me a copy of the Marauder’s Map on my interface?”

Sirius looked thoughtful a few moments as they walked, before he said, “I do remember that we were working on something to try and sneak more help to you, but I don’t remember the details. It’s all…hazy. Part of the memories I don’t get to remember just now. It does sound like something I’d go in for though,” he added cheerily.

Harry though, was thinking about what it meant. He’d wondered how his family could ‘sneak’ anything by Alora and Iggy, “That must mean that they know about it, and it’s still just another part of what they did to help. But they’re doing it in a way that let you all still help me…” he realized then. “And Mom and Dad will still be able to help me, even when Moony is back with us,” he said, a tremble in his voice to realize another way his parents would still be with him every step of the way.

Sirius stopped, tugging him in and hugging him close for a long moment, ignoring a few looks from passerby’s before Harry said, “I’m okay,” and dashed the tears from his reddened eyes. “I just… I miss them,” he said quietly then.

“I know Pup,” Sirius agreed, “me too.”

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

Knowing why Harry had latched on to that particular property immediately, Sirius had gone ahead and had them stop through Gringotts so he could have Bodnok prepare the necessary parchmentwork for the purchase. Considering the source, he was quite certain that they would be buying the property, it was merely a matter of finding out what the final price was. He’d explained to Harry that they would likely get the property for less, since they would be paying in full rather than financing.

Bodnok had also informed them that just over one hundred twenty thousand galleons had been transferred to the Potter accounts, seized from Drukbol and his clan, money the former account manager had stolen as well as the fines levied against his clan. Bodnok seemed especially pleased with the news, and with being able to inform his new client of how quickly Gringotts had seen the matter through.

They had quickly commended the account manager for his efforts before heading to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch. Afterwards Sirius had transfigured both of their clothes before heading into muggle London.  A short cab ride to a nearby shopping district, and he and Sirius were soon being fitted for entire muggle wardrobes. After each shop, they’d slip into an alcove or a hallway to the restrooms, or some similarly out of view location where Sirius would cast a quick notice-me-not charm and quickly shrink their bags. Once the bags were shrunk, he’d cancel the notice-me-not and they’d head for the next shop. As tiring as the trip was, Harry could only imagine how much worse it would be with all the bags to haul around.

Once they’d gotten a variety of muggle outfits for the pair of them, as well as matching dark colored aviator jackets that Sirius absolutely insisted on once he saw them, they headed back out into the chilly February weather with a couple of discreet warming charms. They walked up the street a ways before they could duck into a nearby alley, and after a quick notice-me-not, Sirius apparated them back to Bones manor.

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

“I’ve been thinking,” Harry began as they returned to the manor, “if the Goblins sent out the letters for the will reading today, I’ll bet they’ll be able to track down Moony.”

“That’s what I was hoping as well. He never really got along with the packs here in England, but he did say that some of the packs on the continent were a bit less savage. We talked a lot about how to find him, but he moved around so much in the eighties that he had a hard time trying to estimate where he might be. Add to that that we didn’t know exactly when you would return to, nor when you’d have an opportunity to try and reach either of us,” and Sirius gave a sort of helpless shrug.

“Gringotts will track him down though, especially since he would be stopping in at Gringotts from time to time wherever he is.” Sirius frowned, “he had put away money every year to send you birthday and Christmas presents, though we now realize that not a one of them actually reached you.”

They had been the first to arrive back at the Ossuary that afternoon, since Susan was still at Hannah’s and Amelia was still at the Ministry. Sirius had explained that most entirely wizarding families taught their children at home until time for Hogwarts. With Amelia having a career at the Ministry, she had arranged with Hannah’s mum for the two girls to learn together. Since it was just the pair of them, Harry felt more comfortable discussing his tasks.

“Yeah, I have a quest for that too, but I wasn’t going to mess with it until we had a place. Plus you need an owl, Sirius,” he frowned, “and I need to find Hedwig,” he added with a sigh. “We may need to see if Ted or Bodnok can suggest some sort of mail service too, before we deal with whatever the problem is.”

“Yeah, the goblins have a mail screening service I think, though many families have their house elves take care of it.”

“HOUSE ELVES! Bollocks!” Harry said, smacking himself in the face with his hand, “one of my quests in Durzkaban said that the Potter Elves had been restored to health! Sirius, we have to find out where they are!”

“Wait, Durzkaban?” Sirius asked, with an amused but confused sort of expression on his face.

Harry, realizing that they’d barely gone into what had happened since he came back, tugged Sirius into Sirius’ room and said, “cast some privacy spells so no one overhears if they come back early,” he urged, even as he stole the chair from Sirius’ desk to sit in.

Once Sirius had muffliato’d the room, leaving the door open so they’d see if someone was approaching, Harry started explaining what all had happened since he returned. From the change of his scar and the advent of the ‘system’ interface, through the tutorial and the experience of Durzkaban Prison. The various side quests and the crafting system that had allowed him to create a rudimentary wand even at his age were covered, and he withdrew the ‘Elfin Shackle Key’ from his inventory to show Sirius. The key looked like a classic skeleton key, but made of faceted crystal and with a golden flickering light within.

“I feel like I’m going to need this for something specific in the future, but it’s probably tied up in the memories I haven’t unlocked yet. Alora and Iggy said that the memories from Hogwarts are locked away until about a month before my birthday each year. Apparently events will keep trying to flow into the same patterns, so having the memories still available will be relevant even though they repeatedly warned that things might be similar but will not be the same. They also said that if I had all my memories all at once, we might stop necessary events from transpiring and end up causing more damage without realizing it. Plus being eighteen and in a five year old body would be absolutely horrifying. Being eleven and in a five year old body is weird enough.”

“Yeah, we should have seen about getting you acting lessons while we were with your parents,” Sirius teased, “you don’t act like a five year old even when you try to act like a five year old. What you’ve been through will help explain a lot of that away, and the mystique around the whole ‘The Boy Who Lived’ will certainly cause people to tend to accept it. Not to mention that most of the people you’ve been around so far are purebloods or used to wizarding society, so there’s an expectation of children to be proper and well behaved. It’ll be harder to get away with though when you go back to school.”

“Yeah, do I really need to go to school?” Harry complained, “can’t we home school or something? I’ve already been before.”

“I know pup, but you need to be around kids your own age, to help acclimatize to the age you’re supposed to be.”

“Ughhhh….”

“Look on the bright side, it’s supposed to be a school for the gifted, so the courses will likely be more advanced than you did before. I’m sure you’ll learn plenty. Plus, since it’s already into the second term, we’ll enroll you this coming fall, so at least you’ll have a break.”

“Fiiine,” Harry grumped, standing as the sound of Amelia and Susan arriving back was heard. “Are you going to get an owl?”

“Probably a good plan,” Sirius agreed as he cancelled the muffliato. “I’ll pop down to Eeylops after dinner and see what they have, come on, let’s go be sociable. Amelia and Susan have been very generous hostesses, we definitely don’t want to seem ungrateful.”

/\ /\ \/ \/ < > < > [ R & R ] <> <> \/ \/ /\ /\

The following morning, the pair bundled up in muggle attire shortly after a late breakfast where Sirius had presented Amelia and Susan both with bouquets of roses, while Harry had offered up the chocolates they’d secured at the muggle shopping center to the ladies.

The portkey deposited them in a small park area on that chilly Friday morning, to find Ms. Hopkins standing beside a dark green Rover sedan.

“I hope you don’t mind, but since you were shopping in muggle neighborhoods and interested in muggle schools, I assumed you wouldn’t mind a very short ride for the sake of appearances?” she asked, once Sirius had helped Harry up.

“Not a problem at all, I have…had…a motorbike,” Sirius replied, steadying Harry, who looked and felt like he was going to lose his breakfast for a moment.

Once he’d settled they all piled into the roomy car and Ms. Hopkins pulled out on the deserted lane. “Mr. Clarke was showing another property first thing this morning,” she explained, “so we should be right on time to meet him.” As she drove she pointed out the quality of the clearly upscale neighborhood before turning onto Sandhill Lane. “Now, the estate you wanted to see is farther down the lane a bit, at the end,” said Ms. Hopkins, “but the one my colleague is showing is the second on the left here. I expect he’ll be finishing up,” she said as she pulled off to the shoulder of the roadway.

She got out of the car, so Sirius and Harry followed suit, standing beside the comfortable sedan. “Oh, there he is now,” she pointed to a man walking out to the drive. “Mr. Clarke,” called Ms. Hopkins, waving to the man as he placed an ‘Under Contract’ marker atop the for sale sign of that property.

Mr. Clarke looked up towards the group, waving cheerily to Ms. Hopkins. “Alright then, Rachel?” he called, “Just let me get my car and we’ll nip on down to show your lads their new home, shall we?” he called in a clearly good mood.

As he was turning to head back in, a blue sedan was pulling out of the drive. The car was nice, upscale and clearly fairly new, and the couple in the front seat were young and quite proper looking. It wasn’t until the car was turning to head back up Sandhill Lane that Harry noticed the bushy haired young girl in the back seat of the car, and it was like being struck by lightning.

“SIRIUS!” Harry cried out urgently, even as his magic surged out of his control as with a loud BANG all four of the cars tires blew as it was pulling onto the roadway, the driver looking surprised as he pulled onto the shoulder.