Harry Potter and the Reworked Universe [HP Rewrite] [Narrative Quest]

[Dr Heaven M.D.]

Author's Notes: I got high and angry about the Wizard Blood Libel game. This expanded into anger at the Harry Potter series in general for all the plot holes (student tracking, unexplained magic system, paper-thin stereotypes, etcetera). So I decided to rewrite the whole series while patching up the holes on the metaphorical road, and make it a Quest so that others can participate. No dice rolls on this one, purely a narrative Quest.

---

Prologue: The [____] Who Lived​

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley were proud to say that they were extremely normal, thank you very much.

Obviously, since normal people don't need to affirm how normal they are, this was a clear indicator to the observant people in their lives that they were hiding something. But that's neither here nor there.

The Dursleys were a proud, middle class British family, with good jobs and good social lives.

Petunia Dursely had a small but loyal social circle with the other women of Privet Drive with whom she had a knitting circle, a book club, and a small ring of weapons-grade gossip trafficking. While she was mostly a housewife, she wrote an anonymous advice column for the local paper which was fairly well-liked by readers, and which brought some extra spending cash into the household.

Vernon Dursley, on the other hand, had a collection of 'drinking buddies' whom he could go months without speaking to, though they would always be up for a gathering at a bar or at someone's home when the World Cup came along. He worked middle management at a construction firm called Peck & Macgill Constructions, where he had careful plans and strategies of mundane sabotage and backstabbing spread out over the next decade, all with the intention of making partner.

Among the people that knew them, the Durselys seemed like lifeforms on the same level as grass. Something that you find everywhere you don't take care to obstruct its growth, and which doesn't really draw the eye unless you go looking for it. Friends considered them dull but fairly relaxing to be around, as they held no opinions beyond whatever the person they talked to thought, and coworkers mainly thought of them as fixtures around the office.

The most exciting thing about them was that, after years of trying for a child, Petunia was finally great with child, which had lead to a solid two months of them carrying around copies of the ultrasound to show to people and babble with pride over.

They weren't bad people. They weren't really good people, either.

They were just people, and barely that if you consider a strong moral code of some sort to be a requirement for personhood.

But everyone becomes something when pressure is added.

OXOXO​

In later years, when in the company of the few people he trusted with his intimate recollections, Vernon Dursley would claim things were weird from the moment he woke up.

He'd gone to bed early the previous night, on account of a persistent headache that just would not leave, and so he woke up a few minutes before his alarm clock started ringing. Deep warmth covered his body from the thick bedsheets and covers that came with Autumn, and Petunia's arms were wrapped around his frame from behind, making him extremely comfortable as he slowly opened his eyes.

His budding good mood was suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a cat outside his window, staring at him.

Vernon blinked.

His room was on the second floor.

The cat turned around and jumped off. While he wasn't a great lover of animals, Vernon felt mildly alarmed at the thought of a dead cat outside his window, so he slowly got up, fit his feet into his slippers, and walked to the door.

There was nothing outside, except a sun just barely rising over the horizon and the first signs of life visible through his neighbors' curtain-covered windows.

"Mmrm," Petunia groaned, barely conscious. "Vern'n? Wh's wrong?"

Vernon blinked, then turned around and leaned over the bed to press a kiss onto her forehead. "Just woke up early, Pet. Go back to sleep, I'll make you breakfast."

Petunia groaned something that was probably, in her mind, an affectionate comment. Then she promptly turned as much as her swollen belly would allow her and buried her face in the pillow, wrapping the covers tighter around her to compensate for missing his warmth.

Vernon allowed himself a few moments to watch her fondly, then he took his fluffy robe (it'd cost more than he expected to have his initials monogrammed onto the breast pocket, but he liked how it looked), deactivated his alarm clock before it could bother her, then walked out of the room.

He paused outside his son's future room, eyes catching on the sky blue painted walls with fluffy white clouds on the upper part. It'd cost him quite a bit of practice to get the look quite right, as he lacked anything resembling an artistic mind, but he thought his son would like it. It's not like English weather would let him see much of clear blue skies and fluffy white clouds, after all.

He walked down the stairs and went into the kitchen. He set the electric kettle, prepared everything for tea, and turned on the radio at a low volume. Just as he turned it on, the first notes of that single by those poofs Queen and David Bowie came out.

Personally, he didn't care for it, but he'd caught Petunia dancing to it once or twice, so he turned up the volume to just audible in their room and left it there.

He went to the front door opened it, looking for his paper.

The cat was there.

Vernon felt a little foolish for paralysing just by laying eyes on a simple grey cat. It was one of those Scottish breeds, with the folded ears and the dopey yellow eyes. A mate of his had had one when he was a teenager.

It really wasn't all that large or scary-looking.

Still, his caution was retroactively justified when the cat opened its mouth and spoke in a Scottish accent, "You don't seem like much to me."

Vernon blinked. Then he said, "No."

"Pardon?" asked the cat.

"Just... just no," Vernon repeated. He reached under it, pulling out the newspaper the cat had been sitting on, then closed the door on its face and locked the door for good measure.

He could faintly hear the cat cussing him out for his lack of manners through the door.

Vernon turned around and walked back into the kitchen. The kettle was whistling. The poofs were still singing. All of that was covered up and muffled by the intense noise coming from inside his head.

Very slowly, he turned his methodical mind to dividing the problem and dealing it part for part.

Weird things were happening. There was no reason to panic, as he and Pet had been preparing for it for years.

First things first, did he tell her?

Well, on the one hand, keeping things from his wife gave Vernon indigestion.

On the other, she was pregnant, and every book he'd read on the subject claimed that shocks were to be avoided when in that state.

(At the moment this had seemed like stupid advice to Vernon, as shocks were shocking because you didn't see them coming and thus couldn't avoid them. He now understood that the advice had been directed to him.)

So it was either a troubled stomach or his wife having a shock.

Troubled stomach it was.

So what did he do about the cat? Better asked, what could he do?

... shoo it with a broom if it approached again? It might turn him into a toad.

So... just ignore it? It worked more or less at the door.

Alright, that wasn't so hard. He'd ignore the cat, not talk about it, and just move on with his life.

As a man born in the fifties, he was well accostumbed to suppressing all distress, so he easily did so and set about making tea for his wife, which he carried upstairs for her.

OXOXO​

The day failed to become less stressful as it went on.

People wearing strange, elaborate clothing filled the street. He saw more than a few being arrested for drinking and making a spectacle of themselves in public. At all hours of the day, as he got closer, he saw loud and colourful fireworks being shot into the sky, which were barely visible between clouds and daylight, but even then he could see that they were elaborate and more complex than any other pyrotechnics he'd seen in his life.

And he was no ornithologist, but he was pretty sure that it was a little late for migrating season, with all the hordes of birds flying overhead.

Actually, were those parrots? Were there even supposed to be parrots in England? And those looked like eagles... they couldn't have been, right?

In any case, getting to the office was a relief, even if he almost forgot a few things because he was so distracted. He almost left the car unlocked, he slammed into a few doors because he pushed or pulled when he should've pulled or pushed, and the less he thought about what happened in the bathroom the better.

It got to the point that a few of his coworkers, his drinking buddies and his boss all asked him if something was wrong, or if something had happened to Petunia.

Vernon assured them all that he was just having a bit of an off day, did his best to focus on work, and snuck out to buy himself some stomach medicine when he could.

When he got out for the day, a skinny old man with a long and grey braided beard was standing in front of his car. He was wearing a garish purple suit, complete with a cane tipped with a golden handle shaped like a lion.

The old man opened his mouth.

"No," said Vernon.

"Pardon?"

"Just... no," Vernon repeated. "Please step away from my car."

"I really must speak with you, Mr. Dursley," the old man said, eyes catching the light in odd ways. "It's about your sister-in-law."

"I know it is," Vernon muttered, trying to move his bulky frame around the thin man as he stood in front of his door. "I don't want to hear a word about it."

"It is of vital importance."

"Then you can take a turn with my secretary," Vernon gave up and just made to shove him away, reputation be damned. "Now if you could just—!"

"She's dead."

Vernon froze, hand on the old man's shoulder.

The purple-clad man watched his hand and gently brushed it off of his shoulder as he explained, "I would've approached your wife with this, as it is her sister, but I understand that she is pregnant, and so..."

Vernon glared at him, and the old man stopped talking.

Dursley ran a meaty hand down his face and then rested it against his forehead, considering his options.

On the one hand, neither he nor his wife cared much for that side of the family.

On the other, he still remembered those few times that, after a couple cups of wine, Petunia cried onto his chest because of the vast distance between her and her sister.

Some of those times she'd even gone so far as to blame herself for the rift.

"... her husband?"

"Deceased as well."

Vernon nodded. No one would cry that, at least.

"And... they sent us a card, last christmas. She was expecting?"

The old man nodded, running a hand down his beard, "Ah, yes. The Potter child..."

After a few moments of no talking, Vernon raised an impatient eyebrow.

Seeing that his 'mysterious wise man' schtick wasn't sticking, the old man sighed and confessed, "Well, I'm afraid that was what I wanted to talk to you and your wife about, Mr. Dursley."

No one ever accused Vernon of being an intelligent or very deductive man. But even he could add up two and two.

He stood there still for a moment, still facing his car and standing to the right of the old man, who was facing away from it.

The gears of his methodical mind turned and churned for a few moments. They spun upon axiis based around personal benefits and the happiness of his wife and unborn child, pushing ideas towards a processing plant of cost/benefit analysis.

The final conclusion was that he could not make the decision alone. And while he felt he knew all he needed to know to make the decision, Petunia would have to know more about the subject to choose a path for them to take.

Vernon sighed and gestured for the old man to move.

"Come on," he said. "I'll drive us home."

The old man blinked, and a giddy expression overtook his face, "In the automobile?!"

"... yes?"

"Oh, how exciting!" the old man cheered, clapping a little. "I've always wanted to ride one of these!"

Vernon glared at him.

OXOXO​

The meeting between Vernon, Petunia and the old man who introduced himself as Albus ran long.

Tears were shed, promises and bribes were offered, threats were made. But eventually, Petunia dried her eyes, Albus spoke honestly and Vernon calmed down and considered the situation.

Albus promised financial compensation, so the worry about economic strain that had been pulling Vernon back was addressed and relieved before they could be laid on the table. In fact, the amount of money was enough that they would actually have an easier time raising their actual child, which Petunia suspected was a bribe until Albus clarified that he had no idea how much 'muggle' money was worth.

He then went on to say that if they wanted a bribe, he could double or triple the amount with no issue.

More concesions were made, warnings handed out, and eventually, an accord was reached.

Once the pact was sealed, thunderous knocking came upon the door.

Albus opened it — as if it were his own home, the mannerless bastard — to reveal a crying hairy man that had more in common with mountains than with anything else, who revealed a small bundle wrapped in soft blue cloth from inside his brown duster coat. He handed it to Albus, pressed his fingers against the child's forehead, then walked out, sobbing loudly.

Albus handed the child to the Dursleys, assured them that the money would be in their bank accounts within the week, and left them with a simple message.

"This child has a complicated future ahead of him," he said. "He'd do well to develop tolerance for pain."

With those words, he walked out of the door and walked into the shadows of Privet Drive, disappearing from sight.

Leaving them alone with the...

[][GENDER] Boy (cisgender) (He/Him)

[][GENDER] Girl (cisgender) (She/Her)

[][GENDER] Child (nonbinary) (They/Them)

[][GENDER] Boy (transgender) (He/Him)

[][GENDER] Girl (transgender) (She/Her)

They looked at each other for a moment, then laid the small babe on the table.

A red, barely-healed wound shaped like a cartoon of a lightningbolt decorated its forehead.

"... so?" asked Vernon, looking at his wife for guidance. "Now what?

[][UPBRINGING] Sins of the Father: Despite her best efforts, Petunia cannot ignore the anger that still bubbles inside her chest when she thinks of her sister. Vernon personally was not too fond of his siblings-in-law, and it doesn't take much to convince him that he could follow their lead, while Dudley will follow their lead. They won't do something cartoonishly abusive like locking them in a cupboard, especially when they can't know if "freaks" are spying on them, but insults and forcing them to do their chores will be routine.

[][UPBRINGING] Raising for "Redemption": Children are innocent, and Petunia is an optimist at heart. She can't ignore the wounds left behind, but it's possible that if she does a good job, he might be spared the freakishness that afflicted her sister. Vernon personally was not too fond of his siblings-in-law, but it doesn't take much to convince him that he could be steered away from their path, while Dudley will follow their lead. It won't be a very affectionate household for him, but they'll certainly be a part of the family.

---

Author's Note: So yeah, HP Rewrite.

I'll pick a name for Young Potter later, but I do take suggestions. There will be almost no stations of canon, though some things will be similar and I will install a couple red herrings here and there.

 

[Dr Heaven M.D.]

Spoiler: Winning Votes

[X][GENDER] Boy (cisgender) (He/Him)
[X][UPBRINGING] Raising for "Redemption"

Chapter One: The Family in Privet Drive #4​

NINE YEARS LATER:

The alarm clock wasn't enough to wake him up, but Dudley quickly compensated by throwing the door open and yelling out, "Harry! Get up!"

Harry emited some sort of grumbling, hissing sound and buried his face under a pillow.

Undeterred, Dudley ran over and started shaking his cousin, calling out, "Come on, it's my birthday! You said you got me something!"

Still grumbling but slightly more awake, Harry smacked him in the face with a pillow as he threw off the covers, struggling to roll out of bed.

Dudley, in his infinite mercy, only smacked him back twice as hard with the pillow once, before handing over Harry's glasses, which he took with a thankful nod.

Once the world was back to higher definition, Harry got on all fours and crawled under the bed, removing a loose floorboard before pulling out a small grey plastic cartridge with a little image pasted on the front. With it in hand, he crawled out from under his bed and handed it to his cousin, smiling as much as he could with his brain fogged over by sleep.

"Lemme see!" Dudley cried, barely restraining himself in his excitement, before his eyes flew wide when he saw the image at the front. "Castlevania 3?!"

Harry quickly shushed him, looking towards the door. When footsteps and parental dissappointment failed to appear, he turned back to Dudley, who was looking at him like he was a god on Earth.

"How did you get this?" asked Dudley, smiling widely with disbelief. "It's not supposed to come out for another year!"

"I got lucky," Harry smiled back, pride filling his chest. "You know Walter Green, from number twelve? Remember how his dad works at the States?"

"His dad got him an early copy?"

"Yeah. But Walt said said he didn't want a stupid girl game, 'cause of his hair?" Harry grinned, gesturing at the picture. "Had to mow a lot of lawns for this, though."

Dudley wrapped his arms around Harry in a crushing hug, then ran off to hide it, leaving Harry a little winded.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia didn't much care for games with storylines more complicated or fantastical than basic stuff like "army guy goes to place, shoots people", so Harry and Dudley had developed a habit of pooling their money together, buying games their guardians didn't like, and playing them after everyone went to sleep.

Among other adventures 8-bit adventures, it had taken them almost a month of trial and error to discover the secret of what happened when you beat Metroid in under three hours, but it had been worth it to receive their mutual first crush.

(Naturally, this lead to a lot of fights about who would get to marry Samus Aran when they grew up. Hopefully Castlevania 3 wouldn't bring more of the same.)

A bit tired, Harry got dressed and walked down the stairs to the kitchen. Aunt Petunia was working over the stove, readying breakfast, while Uncle Vernon sat at the head of the table, tea and toast prepared in front of him and slowly cooling while he read his newspaper.

"Good morning," said Harry, sitting down on the opposite end from Vernon.

"Hands," Vernon and Petunia replied at the same time.

Harry huffed a little and went to the sink to wash his hands with soap. Once they were done, he showed them off for both of them, but they ignored him.

Sitting down at the end, he took the teapot to pour himself a cup — red tea, Dudley and his favourite — and started shovelling sugars into his cup.

After the third, Vernon grumbled, "You'll rot your teeth off."

"Yeah, but I'll be happy."

Vernon grumbled again.

Harry grumbled back, but he stopped putting sugar in his tea and stirred it before taking a big gulp.

Dudley entered the room and was immediately greeted warmly by his parents, who wished him a happy birthday. Aunt Petunia placed a plate of eggs and sausage in front of him before laying a noisy kiss on his cheek, to Dudley's displeasure.

Vernon limited himself to ruffling his blonde hair then continuing to read his newspaper.

Harry felt a pull at the mouth of his stomach and a bitter taste in his mouth...

[][ACCIDENTAL] Heat: When he went to take another drink of his tea, Harry found it to be surprisingly hot. [Harry becomes more attuned with ¿¿¿???]

[][ACCIDENTAL] Dye: The edges of the tablecloth, outside of anyone's line of sight, become the same shade of green as Harry's eyes. [Harry becomes more attuned with ¿¿¿???]

[][ACCIDENTAL] Shrink: Though no one notices in the moment, the table becomes two millimeters shorter on every side, pulling everyone closer together. [Harry becomes more attuned with ¿¿¿???]

[][ACCIDENTAL] Offering: When nobody — not even Harry — is looking, the sausages disappear from Vernon's plate. Everyone assumes he just ate them without thinking while reading, but a more attentive ear would have heard the sound of chewing and satisfied chop-licking. [Harry becomes more attuned with ¿¿¿???]

In any case, Harry ignored his longing and continued with his breakfast once Petunia gave him his share.

Once she sat down, Vernon poured his wife a generous cup of tea with just as much sugar as she liked, earning himself a loving smile from her, which he returned. The family ate in relative silence, making small talk, which was mostly because everyone except the birthday boy himself was amused by how he vibrated in place more and more.

Once all bevrages were drunk and foodstuffs were put away, Dudley could not take it anymore and slammed his hands on the table, crying out, "Alright! Can I get my presents already?!"

Harry's aunt and uncle chuckled, and Vernon left to pick up their presents for him while Petunia chided their son for his behaviour. Not that Dudley seemed bothered by this, as he excitedly craned his neck to try to follow Vernon's path.

"What are we doing to celebrate?" Harry asked, drawing Petunia's attention.

"We were thinking a trip to the zoo," she said. "Since we couldn't manage it last year."

Harry smiled, he'd been just as sad as Dudley when the zoo had to close at the last minute because of some sort of "freak tiger incident", as the news described it.[1]

"I hope we see an elephant," Harry said.

"I'm gonna look at the spiders!" said Dudley. "Maybe if one gets out, I can grab it and take it to school!"

"You could just grab one of the spiders from the cupboard," Harry pointed out.

"Those are tiny, I want a big poisonous one."

"How would you pick up a poisonous one?"

"I'll wear gloves," said Dudley, rolling his eyes like Harry was an idiot.

Harry, not finding a flaw in his cousin's logic, nodded.

Uncle Vernon re-entered the kitchen, holding two large boxes wrapped in colourful paper. Dudley's eyes got big and he rushed out of his seat to help his father, while Petunia and Harry moved plates and cups around to make space for the boxes.

The bitter feeling returned as Dudley pulled out a pair of boxing gloves and an action figure showing some generic army man with muscles bigger than his head. Then Petunia rested her cool hand against the back of Harry's neck when he helped her clean up, giving him a thankful smile, and he felt a bit better.

OXOXO​

The car ride to the zoo took a while, with traffic being somewhat crowded. Vernon saw three different men in bikes with mullets, so there was a lot of grumbling about the youth of today that the rest of the family cheerily ignored.

Harry and Dudley especially, since the subject of what animal could beat what animal had come up.

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yuh-huh!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yuh-huh!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yuh-huh!"

"Nuh-uh times a million!" cried Dudley. "A bear can't beat a silverback gorilla!"

"Yes it could!" said Harry, throwing his hands up into the air at Dudley's failure to comprehend the sweet science of epic fights between animals. "Bears have big claws, big muscles and they're super strong! Remember that documentary we saw on the telly? You can't even kill them with bullets because their skin is so thick!"

"Hide," corrected Aunt Petunia.

"Because their skin is so hide!"

Petunia sighed.

"Whatever, bears are dumb!" Dudley said, "A gorilla could just use tools to win."

"Like what? Is a gorilla make a bazooka out of coconuts?"

"No, but it could use a really big rock and crack the bear's skull open."

"This is getting a bit graphic," said Petunia. "Vernon, could you weigh in on this?"

"Mm?" Vernon looked up from where he was glaring at someone. "Oh, sure. The boy's right, Dudders, bears are killing machines."

"Aw, what?" Dudley whined, while Harry did a shimmy of victory on his seat.

"That's not really what I meant," Petunia deadpanned.

"What? The argument's over."

"Well, for one, you're wrong. Bears are dumb as bricks."

There was a moment of silence that lasted exactly 3.5 seconds, then everyone started arguing at the same time against everyone else.

The argument lasted the rest of the drive.

[][VICTOR] Team Bear: As was to be expected, Harry and Vernon wound up winning the argument, which makes sense because Bears are, in fact, Bad News. [Sets up ¿¿¿???]

[][VICTOR] Team Gorilla: Unfortunately, Petunia and Dudley wound up wearing down Harry and his uncle, until finally they cried uncle and admitted defeat. [Sets up ¿¿¿???]

OXOXO​

The zoo wasn't all that it was cracked up to be.

At the end of the day, a zoo is just a place where you go look at animals, and it wasn't bringing up any more emotion in Harry than seeing a fox eating out of the garbage did.

Still, Dudley seemed entertained, and it was his birthday, so Harry tried to look happy as they wandered around aimlessly, throwing food sold by the zoo wherever they were allowed. So far, Dudley had managed to nail every single animal he threw food at in the head, but thankfully none of them had taken it personally and Dudley had apologized profusely every time.

They stopped at a little food stand to get something to eat, and Harry got a lemon ice popsicle that he'd never tried before.

All together, this was proving to be a nice, calm day for the Dursley-Potters.

And then they got to the Snake House.

"Child of Ancient Magickssss," the brazilian snake hissed through the glass, eyes stuck on Harry's. "I sssensse your power... pleasssse, I bessseach you... usssse your might to free me, and I shall reward you handssssomely."

Harry looked at the snake.

The snaked looked at Harry.

Harry said, "No" and turned around to walk away.

"WAIT! Pleasssssse! I'm dessssperate!"

Harry would have walked away. He really would have. He really wanted to.

But the snake was desperate...

Groaning, Harry turned back around and approached.

"Alright, what do you want?"

"Wait, you truly are a Ssssspeaker? Oh, thank the Father! I've jussst been talking to every magical bipedal that'ssss shown up in thisss sssstupid place!" the snake looked very excited now. "Okay, can you sssssspeak my language sssso that I may undersssstand you?"

"Um..." Harry blinked, wondering how he was supposed to speak snake when he didn't even understand how he was hearing snake. "Sssss?"

"... if that was a joke, I want you to undersssstand that it wasss a very offenssssive one," the snake deadpanned.

Harry flushed, "Excussse me, but I've never ssspoken to a sssnake before!"

"You just did."

Harry blinked, then grinned, "I did! I am! Thisss iss amazzing!"

"Yeah, yeah, very happy for you. Lissssten, can you break me out of here or not?"

"Why do you want me to break you out?"

The snake blinked with its clear eyelids-like thingies, then looked around pointedly.

When Harry's expression remained clueless and gormless, the snake angrily pointed out, "I live in a freaking cage, kid!"

"Oh, yeah," Harry nodded. "That ssssseemsss bad."

"It issss."

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" asked Harry. "It's not like I can just break the window."

"You're a m— a Child of Ancient Magicksss. You have powers that let you alter the world."

"... I think I would have noticed that," Harry deadpanned.

"Like you noticed that you can talk to ssssnakes?"

"... alright, you got me there," Harry nodded. "Sssso how do I usssse thessse 'Ancient Magicksssss'?"

"... um..."

"You don't even know?!"

"Hey, I'm not a Child of Ancient Magickssss! Just... snap your grosssss appendagessssss or ssssomething."

"You mean my fingerssss?"

"Isss that what thossse hideouss thingsss are called?"

Harry huffed, "I'm not sssseeing much of a reasson to help you out, mate."

The snake took a panicked expression — as much as snakes could, anyhow — and quickly said, "I can help you! I might not undersssstand the magicksss of man, but I can teach you the ssssecretssss of my kin!"

Harry blinked, then frowned.

He looked down at his hand, set to snap.

[][SNAKE] Freedom: I mean... it would be the right thing to do. And maybe it understands why Harry's suddenly speaking Snake, which he's going to start freaking out about as soon as he can process that he's suddenly speaking Snake, holy crap. [Snakey Leaves the Cage, things develop accordingly.]

[][SNAKE] Stay in the Cage: Yeah, no. This guy is a dick. [Snakey Stays in the Cage, things develop accordingly]

Spoiler: Footnotes

[1]: Years later, Harry would go on to learn the details of the incident which the zoo paid generously to cover up. As it turned out, not only had a tiger escaped, but it had somehow gone on to visit the lion enclosure and proceeded to make ligers with every lioness available before moving on to the aquarium where it ate until it died. When the details became public knowledge, the news media called it "the happiest death in the history of the animal kingdom".

 

[Dr Heaven M.D.]

Spoiler: Winning Votes

[X][ACCIDENTAL] Offering: When nobody — not even Harry — is looking, the sausages disappear from Vernon's plate. Everyone assumes he just ate them without thinking while reading, but a more attentive ear would have heard the sound of chewing and satisfied chop-licking. [Harry becomes more attuned with ¿¿¿???]

[X][VICTOR] Team Gorilla: Unfortunately, Petunia and Dudley wound up wearing down Harry and his uncle, until finally they cried uncle and admitted defeat. [Sets up ¿¿¿???]

[x][SNAKE] Freedom: I mean... it would be the right thing to do. And maybe it understands why Harry's suddenly speaking Snake, which he's going to start freaking out about as soon as he can process that he's suddenly speaking Snake, holy crap. [Snakey Leaves the Cage, things develop accordingly.]

Harry snapped his fingers.

[][WINDOW] Crash!: Before his eyes, the window exploded outward. Miraculously, no glass lands on anyone or anything important. [Harry becomes more attuned with ¿¿¿???]

[][WINDOW] Pop!: Before his eyes, the window changed and bloated, slowly becoming a collection of soap bubbles that almost immediately popped. The soapy water droplets would later be found as shards of glass, almost too small to see. [Harry becomes more attuned with ¿¿¿???]

[][WINDOW] Whorp!: Before his eyes, the lights of the reptile house flicker and dim. It takes both Harry and the snake a moment to realize that the glass is simply... gone. And why do people look so tired? [Harry becomes more attuned with ¿¿¿???]

[][WINDOW] Howdy!: Nothing happens. Harry blinks. During those ten milliseconds of closed eyes, if he had the ability, he would notice the sounds of grunting, powertools and angry muttering. When he opens them, the snake looks a tad spooked and the glass is gone. [Harry becomes more attuned with ¿¿¿???]

However it happens, not that Harry has any chance to understand it, it isn't long before the snake is rushing out of the enclosure as fast as a creature with no legs can (which, as it turns out, is shockingly fast).

"Ssssso long, ssssucker!" the snake cries over its... erm... 'shoulder'. "Brazzzil, here I come!"

Harry barely has enough time to start to feel betrayed when someone shrieks very loudly from near him.

He turns around, finds a person pointing a finger at him, and resigns himself to getting in trouble when they shriek, "THIS CHILD IS THE ANTI-CHRIST!"

Harry really wished that had been the only time that had been shouted about him.

OXOXO​

It took a while to calm people down. It took longer for the zoo security to calm down after it became apparent that they were not finding the snake. It took even longer for the zoo administration to let the Dursley-Potters go after it became clear (through Petunia's best impersonation of a lawyer and Vernon's most intimidating glare) that Harry couldn't possibly have broken the glass and that he probably wasn't the anti-christ.

In that entire time, Harry's aunt and uncle did not fail to make it clear that they were angry at him.

This feeling only escalated once they found themselves back in the car, stuck in traffic once more, with no silly argument to distract them.

Dudley was just as quiet as his parents and just as nervous as Harry. Not because he thought he was in trouble, but because he worried a bit that his parents might actually kill his cousin over this one.

They'd always been harsher on Harry, for whatever reason, but maybe it was that Harry's messes were always pretty much unexplainable.

Dudley snuck into the kitchen overnight and ate the leftovers? He got grounded.

Harry insulted a bully, got chased and wound up on the roof of the school somehow? Once they were sure the firemen got him down safely and he was fine, they stuck him with chores for a literal semester.

Dudley got in a fight? A reprimand from Petunia and a proud nod from Vernon 'cause he won.

Harry got in a fight with three kids, all of whom ended up in a river somehow? He had to unearth weeds from every garden in the neighborhood.

Dudley cheated on a test? He got sent to a tutor's to study and improve himself.

When all the tests in Harry's class except his suddenly got dyed purple, no one had actually blamed him because they just didn't see how he could have possibly done that. But Dudley's parents punished him anyways.

And they were never... angry about it. They frowned and they talked in their angry voices, but...

Dudley's mom just looked sad, mostly.

Dudley couldn't make heads or tails of it. Personally, he wanted Harry to teach him how to do that stuff. Would've made for awesome pranks.

But his parents weren't dumb, and Dudley had that easy trust of children that told him that there was probably a reason for why they disapproved of all this stuff.

Like how Dracula had all these cool powers but Trevor Belmont still had to kill him!

Except no one should kill Harry.

This was starting to make his head hurt.

Luckily, Harry broke the silence to say, "I'm sorry."

Petunia stared dead ahead, while Vernon inhaled sharply through his nostrils.

"You're sorry."

"... yes, sir."

"Do you even understand why you're sorry, boy?"

"... because I... broke the glass?"

Vernon met his eyes through the rear-view mirror.

Harry wilted and muttered, "No, sir. I don't know."

Vernon huffed and stared ahead.

Traffic refused to progress.

It kept refusing to progress for quite a while.

OXOXO​

Things were awkward for quite a bit.

Contrary to Dudley and Harry's expectations, the latter wasn't punished too severely for the zoo incident, only getting a few extra turns on the chore rotation.

This oddly relaxed reaction roused his curiosity, so one night Harry snuck out and stuck an ear to their bedroom door when he thought he heard something. Muffled crying and lamentations from both were his only reward, and he went back to his bed feeling like his heart had filled with lead and fallen to his feet.

It was a worse punishment than anything they could have willfully done to him. Harry spent more than a few nights unable to sleep, staring at the ceiling and wishing he could just reach into his chest and pull out whatever part of himself was making things so much harder for everyone else.

It was in those nights that Dudley tended to visit and lead him downstairs, to the telly, where they played forbidden games.

If Harry broke down crying once or thrice, Dudley showed enough awareness to not comment or react. Vernon had explained to both of them that after a certain point it just wasn't acceptable for men to cry about things, so Petunia had encouraged them to get it out while they could.

Dudley didn't try to hug him. This did not mean he didn't want to.

OXOXO​

Time moved forward, and the incident was left behind.

But never forgotten.

In an effort to smooth things over, Harry tried to make himself helpful and lovable, and he really thought he found the most success with...

[][BUYING-LOVE] Aunt Petunia: In between helping her with her chores even when it wasn't his turn, participating in the knitting circle by helpfully holding the ball of yarn and talking about recipes with her, Harry got a bit closer to his aunt. [Harry is closer to his aunt (duh), gains appreciation for handicraft and character trait of being a decent cook (can evolve into cooking-related tropes)]

[][BUYING-LOVE] Uncle Vernon: He hadn't really expected a success on this front, honestly, but sitting on the couch with Vernon one evening and getting mad at the same time as him — whenever football or stocks didn't go like they wanted — had lead to a bit of what his uncle called "male bonding". [Harry is closer to his uncle (duh again), gains appreciation for sportsball and character trait of knowing about businesses (can evolve into business related tropes)]

[][BUYING-LOVE] Cousin Dudley: Well, the parents were a bust, but Harry's cousin still liked him alright. Dudley's friends were a bit more ambivalent on the subject, but Harry managed to come up with a few games that put him on their good side. [Harry is closer to his cousin, gains appreciation for social manouvering and character trait of being imaginative (can evolve into art and creativity-related tropes)]

[][BUYING-LOVE] Nobody: Welp. Uncle Vernon might not care for them, but the Beatles had it right about people not being able to buy love. [Harry becomes a bit more isolated from his only living family. He gains appreciation for social interaction and character trait of being starved for affection (can evolve into you being a monster for doing this to a kid. Look at him! You're giving him anxiety! (It can also evolve into severely improved ¿¿¿???))]

Christmas went and Christmas passed with a bit of fanfare and a thankful lack of appearance from Vernon's sister Marge, who was busy lobbying for closed borders somewhere else or whatever she did with her free time. Dudley got a discman and a few CD's of parentally-approved music from both of his parents.

(You both exchanged knowing looks. After finishing the latest game, you had been wondering what you would spend your pooled-together money on next. Time to find out what all the fuss was about with that rap music.)

Harry got...

[][CHECKOV'S-PRESENT] Fiction Books: Despite their reluctance, the librarian from you and Dudley's school, with whom you got along great, had recomended this series to your aunt and uncle as present for you. Kind of a weird name, though. What the heck is a "Discworld"? [Harry gains access to the single greatest book series in the world. Will become relevant eventually. Harry becomes more attuned with ¿¿¿???]

[][CHECKOV'S-PRESENT] A Football: Either a severely tone-deaf gift or one granted because of your burgeoning new interests. Whatever the case, you do become quite good at bouncing it off your knee. You also develop a desire to kick it into the face of anyone that calls it "soccer", for whatever reason. [Harry gains a classic white-and-black football. Will become relevant eventually. Harry becomes more attuned with ¿¿¿???]

[][CHECKOV'S-PRESENT] Some LEGO: Originally, they only got you this because the boxes indicated that they could only be assembled into one thing. Because of who they are as people, it did not ocurr to your aunt or uncle that you could mix them up and make original stuff. Whoops. [Harry gains a pretty solid collection of LEGO parts. Will become relevant eventually. Harry becomes more attuned with ¿¿¿???]

... which he was pretty happy about, honestly.

After that, New Year's, which lead to your aunt and uncle going to a big party hosted by some bloke from Vernon's job and your cousin and you sneaking behind your neighbor Figg's back to listen to forbidden music.

(These NWA chaps had some major anger issues against the police, but if their lyrics were telling the truth, they bloody well had every right to be! Although Harry was getting a little worried about Dudley's tendency to sing along to the lyrics of these songs. Hopefully nothing slipped out in front of anyone.)

The school year came back around. Being one year older than his cousin and not particularly well-liked by his classmates on account of weird things following him everywhere, Harry spent most of his school hours in solitude.

He performed well enough in class, though a recurring complaint from every teacher he ever had was that he was smart enough to not pay attention in class or study at home, instead gleaming things from when they were first explained and then operating with what he could remember.

Winter melted into Spring, which slowly warmed up into Summer. The school year ended, taking with it Harry's last year of primary education. He really thought he would have felt more, given all the fanfare that the telly and movies put into entering your teenage years, but it just felt like getting out of school.

Still, Vernon bought him a wristwatch and Petunia cooked his favourite meal, so it kinda balanced out into being pretty good.

[][FAVOURITE-MEAL] Write-in: This one is pretty much just fluff and preparation for cute scenes in the future. If no one votes it I'm gonna do like I did with Earthbound and pick something weird.

It was near the end of summer vacation, a year and a week after the snake incident, that Harry walked down the stairs to find his aunt and uncle, grim-faced and teary eyed both.

The mail was inside his uncle's shaking fist, crumpled tightly.

"... we knew this day would come," your uncle whispered, choked up.

"I thought we might have done enough," Aunt Petunia said, shaking her head. "He... he's been so good, hasn't had an incident in almost a year."

"That we know of. The boy could have... hidden some things. He's done it before."

"But... but he's been so good..."

"... It had to happen, Pet. We tried out best, but... blood rings true."

A step creaked under Harry's weight as he leaned in to listen. Both of their heads snapped over to him.

Harry froze like a deer in headlights. He expected to be shouted at for spying on them.

Vernon looked away and Petunia covered her mouth, choking back a sob.

"... I... I'll put the kettle on," Vernon whispered, resting a hand on his wife's shoulder. "You... should explain things to him."

Vernon walked away.

Petunia took a moment to steady herself, rubbed her eyes with her thumbs, and gestured for Harry to come closer as she walked over to the garage.

He followed, and once inside found his aunt reaching for a shelf. She pulled a dusty leatherbound book from it, and held it under her arm as she walked towards the door.

Harry got out of the way just as she walked through the door, and again he followed as she took Vernon's usual seat at the head of the table. She opened the book and, without looking, gestured for Harry to sit at her side.

He did so, leaning closer to look at the book.

It was full of pictures. The earliest ones showed a pair of babies, one barely bigger than the other, and as the pages advanced so did their age.

One had black hair and his aunt's nose. The other had red hair and... Harry's eyes.

During one dinner party, after a few drinks and on her way to an early bed, while the laughter and conversation was still going strong downstairs, she'd stopped to say goodnight to Dudley and Harry in that order.

Brushing his hair off of his forehead, rubbing her thumb against the stupid scar, she'd said...

"... is that my mom?"

"Mm."

"... I didn't know we had pictures of her," you whispered, leaning closer. "You... you never talk about her."

"I don't," Petunia nodded. "She... she fell in with a certain crowd, and... they took her from me."

Harry had questions and he opened his mouth to ask them, but they failed to escape the knot in his throat.

Petunia kept going through pages, lost in thought, until she found a certain image. "My parents, your grandparents, they didn't think it was a bad thing. But whenever she came home for summer vacation, she came back... different. I knew my sister like the back of my hand, but every day I recognized less and less of her.

"The last time I saw her, before she married your father, I finally asked her about it.

"She told me that the parts I was missing were parts she'd willfully given away."

Harry blinked.

"After that, I only ever heard from her through letters, and they rarely had a return address. When I could reply, it was months before she answered, and I never had much cause to think she'd gotten my messages," Petunia said.

Her tone was... neutral. Carefully so. None of the emotion from minutes ago was present when she talked, she just reported the facts and went through the pages, revealing more pictures that kept showing more of her sister and less of her.

"Her last letter to me was a Christmas greeting card," Distaste finally entered her voice, and she rolled her eyes a bit. "It was a ridiculous thing, too. A picture of her and her idiot husband in matching sweaters. Hers was stretched out, with you in her belly. She must've been five months pregnant. There wasn't even anything written for us, just... 'Happy Holidays, and a Magical New Year'."

Harry grimaced a bit. Seemed like a tone-deaf thing to say to Petunia as he knew her.

"Next year, you were left with us," Petunia continued, "We didn't get all the details, but... it was that same world that took her, for good this time."

Her hand trembled a bit, taking another corner of a page as she stopped her progress.

The pages were mostly blanked, except for a photo of your mother being kissed on the cheek by a handsome young man with hair as unruly and black as Harry's. She was showing off a ring on her left hand.

They looked happy.

"He..." her lip curled in disgust and she spat her next words out, "Albus assured me that she died 'doing the right thing', whatever the bloody hell that means."

He failed to contain his surprise at her swearing. Petunia was the kind of person that literally washed mouths with soap, Vernon's included.

"Maybe he meant to reassure me that my sister never gave up her kindness," Petunia theorized, ignoring Harry's expression. "But I knew that. Nothing could make Lily unkind. What I wanted was for my sister to be alive. Even distant, I would have preferred her to be alive and far from my life than present as a ghost."

Petunia's breathing got harsh and she shut her eyes tight. One of her hands, the one on the same side as Harry, was curled into a fist. One that trembled a bit.

Harry didn't know what to say. He wished he could know a combination of words that would make everything right in the world. He wished, more than anything, more than he'd ever wanted parents, that he could take away her pain.

In absence of the ability to do that, he placed a hand over his aunt's fist.

It kept trembling for a moment, before slowly unclenching as the shakes died out, and her hand wrapped around his.

"... and now it's come for you," Petunia sighed.

"What has?"

Vernon, teapot filled and cups in hand, placed one in front of everyone. Then he added a letter in front of Harry.

It was addressed as such:

Harry Potter
The Room on the Second Floor
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging, Surrey​

On the top right corner of the envelope, a shield with a lion, a snake, a badger and a raven stood proudly with some small letters that he couldn't read under them.

Over the shield, a single name stood.

"Hogwarts".

---

Author's Note: To those of you disappointed by the snake's disappearance, don't be.

Character traits are basically little guidemarks as to what Harry will or can do about stuff, they'll open or close paths and let me write longer chapters by not having to consult with voters over every little thing.

Also, I edited the previous chapter so that it was nine years later instead of ten, that way I can justify the holiday vote and all.

 

[Dr Heaven M.D.]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[X][WINDOW] Howdy!: Nothing happens. Harry blinks. During those ten milliseconds of closed eyes, if he had the ability, he would notice the sounds of grunting, powertools and angry muttering. When he opens them, the snake looks a tad spooked and the glass is gone. [Harry becomes more attuned with ¿¿¿???]

[X][BUYING-LOVE] Cousin Dudley: Well, the parents were a bust, but Harry's cousin still liked him alright. Dudley's friends were a bit more ambivalent on the subject, but Harry managed to come up with a few games that put him on their good side. [Harry is closer to his cousin, gains appreciation for social manouvering and character trait of being imaginative (can evolve into art and creativity-related tropes)]

[X][CHECKOV'S-PRESENT] Some LEGO: Originally, they only got you this because the boxes indicated that they could only be assembled into one thing. Because of who they are as people, it did not ocurr to your aunt or uncle that you could mix them up and make original stuff. Whoops. [Harry gains a pretty solid collection of LEGO parts. Will become relevant eventually. Harry becomes more attuned with ¿¿¿???]

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, I had errands.

---

Chapter Two: Diagonally, Relative to Normality
​

Two days after the conversation, Harry sat dressed in his nicest outfit. Due to being a fairly skinny boy, this meant he was wearing a shirt that he practically swam in and jeans that had to be rolled up at the cuffs.

A bit of guilt niggled at his throat, though it did little to dissuade him from going to this Hogwarts place. The thought of getting answers and learning of this secret world that his parents once inhabited... It was too tempting to pass up.

Even if it hurt Aunt Petunia.

The letter had included instructions on how to answer; he had merely needed to hold up a reply letter asking for a guide, and a crow had appeared to snatch it from his hand.

So now he sat by the foyer, hands on his knees, one leg bouncing anxiously.

Every so often, his eyes drifted towards the kitchen, where his family were having tea. Dudley's head could barely be seen leaning over to curiously peek at him. Their eyes met every so often, both of them looking a bit incredulous.

It was hard to tell if Dudley or he had been more surprised by the revelations about Harry's heritadge, though there had been some talk of Harry turning lead into gold and buying all the CDs, chocolates and game systems they could ever want.

And with how Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon felt... after all the reveals, thing had been awkward at the Dursley home, to say the least.

Awkward, and...

[][FEELS] ... Tense and Angry: As soon as he processed things, Harry got more angry than he'd ever been. Magic? His parents had been magic and they'd kept that from you?! He yelled some things he maybe regretted saying now, and Petunia and Vernon had yelled back. It had been a day since they talked to each other.

[][FEELS] ... Full of Promises: Harry tried to make his family understand that he wouldn't repeat the mistakes his mother made. He'd sworn to keep Vernon, Petunia and Dudley in his heart. He wasn't sure she believed him, but Vernon nodded approvingly.

In any case, it wasn't long before three powerful knocks that loosened the frame from the wall rang across the house.

Dudley almost fell on his ass in surprise. Harry traded a look with his cousin, then went for the door.

Opening it revealed a mountain.

Bizarrely, it was wearing what appeared to be a very clean and well-kept tuxedo that clashed horribly with its scraggly, bushy and unkempt beard and the leather duster over the tuxedo.

... Wait. Mountains didn't have beards.

Harry leaned his head back. He found only more beard.

Straining his neck a bit more, he managed to spot a pair of brown, glistening eyes staring at him from just over the beard and right under long curly brown hair. A fair bit of trembling from the whiskers indicated a quivering lip, and a voice with a thick West Country accent said, "Oh... you look just like James..."

"Uh..." Right. James. James Potter. Harry's dad. So this guy, whoever he was, knew Harry's dad. "Thanks?"

The man-mountain cleared his throat and said, "Sorry, can't believe I forgot my manners..."

With a grunt, he kneeled down to look Hary in the eye.

He still wound up a bit a bit over Harry's head, but that might've been partially because of how short he was.

"My name is Hagrid," the walking mountain introduced himself. "I'm... well, a lot of things, but most importantly I was friends with with your ma and pa."

Harry blinked, "Oh, I, um..."

"Excuse me," Aunt Petunia's voice cut in, making you both turn towards her as she stood at the kitchen entrance, gently pushing Dudley back inside. "Hagrid, was it?"

"Ah, yes," the giant of a man said, standing up a bit outside the door. "Mrs. Dursley, I believe? I dunno if you remember me, but-"

"You were the one to drop off Harry, I recall," she interrupted, tone cold. "Would you mind stepping inside, before the neighbors start talking?"

"Oh, yes, yes, of course," Hagrid hurried to comply, seeming a bit flustered. "I- erm, I'm sorry for any inconvenience I might be causing you, ma'am."

"It's a bit late for regrets, isn't it?"

"Um, yes, I-I suppose that-"

"If you're going to speak, speak clearly."

"... Yes'm."

Aunt Petunia watched him carefully, before tilting her head towards the kitchen. "Would you like some tea? We also have some scones, fresh out of the oven."

"Oh, I couldn't impose..."

"I insist," Petunia pressed, in a tone that automatically dropped the ambient temperature of the room by a dozen degrees.

Hagrid looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.

Taking pity on him, Harry cleared his throat and said, "Um... Maybe we should leave now? Get the shopping done as soon as possible?"

Hagrid sent him a profoundly grateful look and nodded, saying, "Yes, yes, the shopping. Have to beat the rush, you understand."

Petunia did not look impressed, but she nodded.

Before leaving, Harry...

[][EXIT] Gave his aunt a hug: Either to mend things or to reassure her. She wraps a hand around your neck and holds you tight, before slowly letting go.

[][EXIT] Waved goodbye: You try to smile at her. She doesn't return the expression, but she does return the gesture.

[][EXIT] Just left: What it says on the tin. Your aunt's mouth tightens into a thin line as she watches you go.

The door closed behind them, and Hagrid sighed in relief, before giving a grin to Harry, "Cut from the same mold, your ma and your aunt, eh? Could kill a basilisk with those glares."

"I'm... sorry?"

"Don't be. It's good for women to be a little scary, helps them get by in the world," Hagrid smiled nostalgically as he added, "My own ma could make people... well, never mind what they did, but let's just say they would benefit from brown pants when she looked at them wrong, eh?"

Harry smiled a bit.

As it turned out, Hagrid had ridden a black motorcycle with a small sidecar to the Dusley home, and already it was gathering looks from the neighbors. Eyes widened when they spotted Harry getting on, taking a small helmet that Hagrid offered him.

It would take a lot of work for the gossip trafficking ring to divert their attentions away from this incident. Whatever else he thought, Harry resolved to do something nice for his aunt to make it up to her, since no one deserved to be the focus of Privet Drive gossip.

OXOXO​

As it turned out, riding a bike was a lot of fun, and by the time they got to the business, Harry could not remove a goofy smile from his face.

The feeling of the wind, sharp against his face, had been exhilarating. He was already thinking of how much he was going to need to save up to buy himself a guitar. Or maybe wizards had something else?

Upon removing the helmet, which had proven to be the only thing that managed to make his hair go down for longer than five seconds, Harry saw that their destination was a hole-in-the-wall brick wall pub with a large turned-off neon sign over the door, claiming it to be The Leaky Cauldron.

"Well, come on," Hagrid said, leaving his own helmet on the sidecar, next to Harry's.

"Is it fine for me to go in?" Harry questioned, following nervously.

"Hm? Oh, yes, everyone passes through here to get to Diagon Alley, it's no trouble."

Diagon Alley.

Diagon-Alley.

Diagonally.

Ugh.

"Hagrid," said Harry, already exhausted, "Be honest with me, are there a lot of places with goofy names in the wizarding world?"

Hagrid paused with his hand on the door and looked back at Harry.

"I won't lie to you, Harry," he said.

Then he turned back around and went inside the building.

Harry sighed and followed behind.

The Leaky Cauldron was dimly lit and rather unhygienic, with a number of stains of all shapes, sizes and colours marking the wooden floorboards. The walls were all brick on the inside as well, three ceiling fans spun lazily overhead, and thirteen round tables and booths filled the space irregularly, some empty and some crowded by parties stuck in hushed conversation.

At the opposite side of the room was the bar, which had a staircase heading up on the left side of it and a door to the back on the right, plus a window into the kitchens on the wall behind the bar.

Standing behind the bar, polishing a glass, was a thickset man with an eyepatch and a profoundly stereotypically English denture, bald with only tufts of hair on his head. He was making small talk with a woman wearing a pointy hat that bent backwards at the tip, but his eye fell on Harry and Hagrid as they came in.

It narrowed for a moment, before he said something else to the... wizard lady? Then he turned to Hagrid as they both approached the bar and smiled at him.

"Rare to see you showing new students around, Hagrid," the bartender said. "Is this a VIP?"

"Oh, well... not really, just the son of a friend," Hagrid dismissed, waving it off. "I'm just doing them a solid and showing him around the Alley, 'cause they were busy."

"Too busy for their son's first shopping trip?" the bartender questioned, before clucking his tongue. "Times must be hard if people are getting worked that hard. Ministry Workers, right? Those folk have been all in a tizzy these days."

"Well... Ministry-adjacent," Hagrid said, rubbing a finger on his nose in a supremely unsubtle gesture.

Harrt wasn't too sure why Hagrid was obscuring the fact that his parents were dead, but he'd learned to go along with lies after enough association with Dudley and company.

Instead, he focused on something else. "Why's the Ministry in a tizzy?"

Hagrid and the bartender's attention fell on Harry, making him shrink back a little, but he didn't waver.

"Well..." the bartender started. "I don't have all the facts..."

"Right, me neither," Hagrid said, looking around quickly.

"It'd be irresponsible to speculate around impressionable children..."

"Very irresponsible."

"Indeed..."

"..."

"... anyways, so these buildings exploded-"

"Tom!"

"What?" Tom the Bartender asked, putting his hands up in a defensive gesture as he grinned with brownish teeth. "I'm not speculating, I'm talking about what definitely happened!"

Hagrid huffed and, with a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder, guiding him to the door to the right of the bar.

"Lots of unrest going on!" Tom called, hand next to his grinning mouth. "We're heading into interesting times!"

The door cut off his next words, and Hagrid huffed angrily as he walked forward. Harry looked back, where he could faintly hear laughter interrupted by coughing, then turned back towards Hagrid.

Before his eyes, Hagrid reached inside his leather duster and pulled out a long pink umbrella, before using its handle to knock twice on the wall. He then cleared his throat and spoke in a deep voice

"Ahead and to the side, the path is short/
'Long as one walks it diagonally."

Harry approached as the bricks started shaking. They moved as though by their own will, pulled by no strings, foldings over each other and falling to the sides, then pulling up and creating an arch. What should have been a small square of vegetable overgrowth and weeds failed to appear, as a cul de saq revealed itself to Harry's wide eyes; businesses and apartment buildings stretched almost as far as they eye could see.

Each one had something floating around it, be it small blimps made of unrecognizable materials or floating paper planes that zoomed around over people's head. Strange creatures ran around, such as dogs with human hands, small capuchin monkey-like green creatures that dangled off of the few wires and streetlights decorating the street, and birds with eyes on the center of their chests.

And the people! Dozens of outfits of shining colours, pointed hats and robes, elaborate suits with countless pieces, walking canes and shining rings... it was so garish that it wound right back into stylish, and a grin appeared on Harry's face as he watched.

Then he realized that Hagrid was muttering something.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Erm... I was apologizing about the rhyme," said Hagrid. "They change the password every other month, and... well, sometimes they get lazy. It doesn't even really need to fit iambic pentameter, but they want it to sound fancy while fitting in some reference to diagonal without putting in the effort, and then you end up with lines like ''Long as one walks it diagonally'. It's just lazy poetry."

"I didn't mind it," Harry shrugged. "I'm eleven."

"Oh. Right," Hagrid cleared his throat and said, "Well... shall we?"

[][PURCHASES] Select the Order in Which Items are Purchased: Write-in.
-[] 1st:
-[] 2nd:
-[] 3rd:
-[] 4th:
-[] 5th:

And so on. The items available are Books, General Supplies, Implement, Ingredients, Uniform

---

Author's Note: Gonna make it clear right now, I am not writing down accents as they sound phonetically. Just take my word that they're there, 'cause English is straight up not my first language and there is no universe where I don't end up insulting someone if I try.

By the way, Tom the Bartender is a really funny character to me, just 'cause of his name. I guess he must know how German guys named Adolf must've felt during and after WW2.

 

[Dr Heaven M.D.]

Spoiler: Winning Votes

[X][FEELS] ... Full of Promises: Harry tried to make his family understand that he wouldn't repeat the mistakes his mother made. He'd sworn to keep Vernon, Petunia and Dudley in his heart. He wasn't sure she believed him, but Vernon nodded approvingly.

[X][EXIT] Gave his aunt a hug: Either to mend things or to reassure her. She wraps a hand around your neck and holds you tight, before slowly letting go.

[X][PURCHASES] Select the Order in Which Items are Purchased: Write-in.
-[X] 1st: Uniform
-[X] 2nd: Implement
-[X] 3rd: Books
-[X] 4th: General Supplies
-[X] 5th: Ingredients

---

Madame Malkin's was a boutique of quite a size, with large storefront that showed a collection of mannequins wearing different elaborate outfits.

The fact that all of them moved to display the flexibility of the outfits was a tad unnerving, especially since their blank faces turned to look at Harry and they made gestures to entice him to buy them, but the outfits did look nice.

Hagrid held the door open for him and let him walk through first, before kneeling a bit. The store wasn't exactly packed, but the workers were busy, with only three elevated platforms in which children your age stood around with their arms out to their side while one worker each moving around with measuring tapes, pieces of cloth and pins.

"Now, I'm going to the bank to pick up some money from your parents' vault, and do an errand. It'll take a while for the workers to get to you, but if I'm not back in time, just tell Malkin you're with me and she'll understand," Hagrid explained. Then he leaned in a bit closer, his eyes flitting around as he spoke in a low voice, "Now... I can't tell you what to do, but if I were you I wouldn't mention your whole name."

"How come?"

Hagrid blinked. Then he blinked again.

"Did... did the Dursleys not tell you about... everything?"

Were magicians addicted to not speaking clearly? "They don't know anything about... wizard bollocks."

"Language," Hagrid distractedly chided, before nodding to himself. "Alright, then... I'll explain everything over ice cream once we're done shopping, alright? Just keep what I told you in mind."

Harry nodded and promised, and Hagrid walked away.

He turned around and faced the store once more. He gathered his courage, took a step inside...

And was immediately intercepted by an older woman with grey hair pulled back in a bun and wearing a sensible grey shirt, black tie, black suit pants and expensive-looking pants.

"Hello, dearie," she said, "Was that Hagrid I saw with you?"

"Um, yeah, he said he had-"

"An errand, I assume," the lady huffed, shaking her head. She started ushering you towards the waiting area, where a few kids were waiting, some accompanied by parents. "They're going to work that man to death, one of these days. Please just have a seat, he'll probably come back at the last possible moment."

A little awkwardly, Harry followed, asking, "Um, miss?"

"Madame," she corrected. "Malking, if you were wondering."

"Right, Madame," he nodded. "Is there something I should do, or...?"

"Nonsense, we are here for your service," she assured him. "In fact, can I get you anything to drink? Tea, cocoa?"

"No thanks."

She left him a few steps away from where everyone else was waiting and walked away, leaving Harry alone.

He looked at the people there. For the most part, they seemed to know each other, parents making small talk amongst themselves while children Harry's age eagerly speculated about Hogwarts, and older teenage sons and daughters rolled their eyes and grumbled about their families embarrassing them.

Actually, that appeared to be true of most magicians he'd met thus far. Everyone seemed to know each other. Harry couldn't remember the last time a shopkeep recognized him.

It made it a bit difficult to approach the group, actually. They were spread across a series of futons and love seats, dominating most of the waiting space.

Most of it.

There was a couch where a lone child sat, carefully looking bored.

Rather than the pale blonde hair or fine clothes that he was already wearing, what drew Harry's attention was how straight he was sitting, even when he leaned against the armrest and laid his cheek against his fist. Mathematics weren't his thing, but Harry was fairly sure that if he took one of those rulers with the little bubble to the other boy's back, the bubble would be perfectly in the middle.

He was also the most approachable person by default, so Harry walked over and stood in front of him.

The boy raised an eyebrow at him.

"Hi!" he said, trying for cheerfulness. "My name's Harry."

The boy blinked, before standing up and putting a hand forward for Harry to shake, very formally saying, "Draco, of House Malfoy."

Harry took a moment to process this new information.

Draco sighed, "Yes, I know, my name is-"

"Bloody awesome!" Harry interrupted, grinning. "Are you kidding me, your name is Draco? I wish my parents had named me something like that!"

Then he thought it over and corrected, "Well, my aunt and uncle would have probably wanted to change it, but still."

Draco blinked again, then snorted, "Well, we can't all be as bless as me."

"Guess not," Harry chuckled. "Are all magician names like that? I mean, the ones I've heard so far weren't, but that Headmaster guy had a bunch that were really... Wizard-y."

"Oh," Draco said, "You're... muggleborn?"

Harry made to explain, then paused. If people were supposed to know about him, maybe explaining that he was an orphan raised by his muggle aunt and uncle would expose him. How many magician orphans named Harry could there be?

It was because of this hesitation that he noticed Draco's eyes going to the side. He followed his line of sight and noticed a few of the chattering families looking their way and muttering to themselves, some of them frowning.

Confused, he turned back to Draco, who frowned, squared his shoulders and said, "Well, as a member of the Noble House Malfoy, I'll be glad to explain everything you want to know about the Unspoken World. Nobility Obligates, after all."

You blinked, then smiled.

This Draco kid was pretty nice.

Kinda stuffy, though.

[][DRACO] Write-in three topics that you want to ask him about: [e.g.: Hogwarts, Hogwarts Houses, Noble Magician Houses, Why Everything Is Secret, Who This Harry Potter Kid You Heard About Is, What is the Orbital Velocity of the Moon, Magical Knife Juggling, What His Favourite Colour Is, Does He Want To Be Your Friend, Has He Ever Heard Of Metroid or Castlevania, Etcetera]

OXOXO​

Once the clothing was paid for and Harry bid Draco goodbye - the other boy shily waving at him as his own parents picked him up - Hagrid led him to a different store closer to the end of Diagon Alley (still a dumb name).

Unlike Madame Malkin's, Ollivander's Implements was a poorly-kept establishment with boarded-up windows and scratches on the door. Actually, it was a tad more similar to the Leaky Cauldron, now that you thought about it. Complete with the ambiance that someone had definitely been stabbed there before.

"... am I going to be murdered?" asked Harry.

"No, no, of course not. Ol' Ollivander couldn't hurt a- well, he could hurt a fly, but he doesn't eat children," assured Hagrid.

"Why did you specify that he doesn't eat children? And why did you specify that he doesn't eat children?"

"Don't ask too many questions," Hagrid muttered[1], before knocking twice on the door and opening it. "Hello? Garrick? It's Hagrid, I've got a new student here?"

A voice, creaky like ancient furniture, called back, "Ah, yes. Please, come inside and shut the door."

Harry and Hagrid went inside. Despite the lack of fans or air conditioning, the room was unnaturally cool. Enough so that Harry could see his breath painting the air white in front of his mouth.

Shivering, he rubbed his arms and looked around. The only illumination available was what snuck through the planks over the windows, barely letting him see clear glass cases lining the walls, showing... blocks of wood? Harry could barely see them, but on one side that's the most he could make out, just different blocks of different-coloured wood.

He turned around and look at another wall.

There was a heart inside a glass case. It was still beating silently.

He swallowed nervously.

"Don't be afraid..." the creaky voice assured him, coming from right behind him.

Harry whipped around, and found nothing there but the door.

The voice came from behind him once more, "I'm sorry for the theatrics... my appearance, it does not suit everyone's taste... regardless... would you like me to turn on the lights?"

Jesus H. Christ. No, he did not want that.

But he also didn't want "Garrick" to feel insulted...

"Y-Yeah," Harry stuttered. "Please, turn the lights on."

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, dim illumination filled the room, bouncing off the glass cases and showing indeed that one side had a variety of wood pieces of varying colours and shapes, plus a few metals and fabrics, while the other had a wide range of parts and pieces of different animals, though none looked like anything you'd seen before.

Feathers of shifting colours, stark white horns that appeared to be made of marble, silvery hairs and those beating hearts of which you'd spotted one before.

The cases were all side by side, completely covering the walls, only interrupted by some thin silk curtains covering random lines of them.

But Garrick Olivander was nowhere to be seen.

Harry looked around, not finding anything.

And then he remembered all those times that Dudley and he criticized movie characters for not looking up when in danger.

Harry looked up.

Three arms emerged from each side of his body, ending in long and spindly fingers with exposed bone at the joints. His body, long and centipede-like with how it twisted from where it was rooted to the ceiling, was covered by robes that appeared to be made from many folds of clothing sewn together at random, regardless of colour and texture. His head was bald, and the skin on his scalp and face was wrinkled and tight in such a way that it appeared to have been pulled back on his skull, highlighting the hole where his nose should be.

Two beady, all-black eyes stared down at him.

"Please... no yelling..." he whispered. Inside his mouth were spider-like furry fangs, "My hearing is... quite sensitive."

Harry's mouth pressed into a tight line and he successfully smothered the desire to scream in a blind panic.

"Probably should have given you more of a warning," Hagrid mused. "Sorry."

Harry kept focusing on not screaming his head off.

"I... appreciate your efforts," Ollivander said. His body stretched, the robes somehow staying on as they unfurled and he lowered to the ground, ending up quite close to Harry as he looked at him upside down. "Tell me, young magician... what is your name?"

"H-H-Harry, s-sir."

"Harry... what?"

Harry looked at Hagrid, who gave a nod. He swallowed and said, "P-P-Potter."

"Ah... the boy saviour... how bitter a meeting this is..." Ollivander twisted over to be right-side up. "I... owe you an apology..."

Oh god, Harry thought. He ate my parents.

"I did not eat... your parents."

He can read minds!

"No... that's just what every orphan thinks..." Ollivander sighed.

Despite being totally horrifying, Harry felt a bit of pity. Swallowing down his revulsion, he forced himself to look Garrick in the eye and raise his chin.

"Why are you apologizing?" he asked.

"That scar..." Ollivander said, one spindly finger pointing at his forehead, "'Twas my handiwork... that gave it... a fine work... given to a man I believed... to be promising..."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Hagrid's hands tighten into fists and his jaw set in anger.

"... was this the person that... killed them? My parents?"

"... I'm afraid so..." Ollivander sorrowfully said. "I expected you... to know already... how bitter..."

You swallowed.

[][FORGIVENESS] "It's Okay": A tool is only as deadly as its user. Ollivander is not at fault. Ollivander smiles as much as he can with his whole... face thing, then moves on.

[][FORGIVENESS] Glare Angrily: Not having all the details won't keep you from getting angry if you have someone to finally be angry at. Ollivander accepts your condemnation with a solemn nod and moves on.

"In any case..." Ollivander continued, "If you are here... then perhaps it is time... for me to rectify... in some small way."

He put a hand out and said, "Your hand... please? It shall be... but a moment."

Harry placed his hand in Garrick's, from where one finger - which wore tapped the center of his palm. Painlessly yes alarmingly, a small bubble of blood poured through Harry's skin, which was then picked up with nimble needle-thin fingertips.

Ollivander retreated back, closer to the ceiling, and started inspecting the blood.

"Ah, yes... such an interesting nature... stained by tragedy... purified by love... a tad trite, but I'm no one to judge..." Garrick hummed, which sounded a bit like rusty hinges opening. "Wood? Yes... wood... holly, naturally... but these things I see... no, no, a feather just won't do... not just one, at least... no, better to go for something... punchier..."

While two arms kept playing with the bubble, his other four arms stretched out. And they kept stretching, until they reached the cases lining the walls.

Without looking, Ollivander started pulling out a block of wood from one wall while the other two hands started pulling out small bones, a bundle of feathers, horns of varying sizes and one of those beating hearts. He started inspecting and even, well, "sniffing" the materials, occassionally doing the same to the blood.

As much as a person with no nose could sniff, anyhow.

Eventually, he chose one material, explaining what purpose it served.

[][IMPLEMENT-CORE] Telltale Heart: A dark red colour, and now that it's out of the case it's quite audible. [Harry gains affinity for The Conjurative Arts]

[][IMPLEMENT-CORE] Small Bones: Too small to even belong to mice, but when one is moved the others spin accordinly. [Harry gains affinity for Accord Crafting]

[][IMPLEMENT-CORE] Bundle of Feathers: Of shimmering, colourful glow, which flows from tip to tip and reacts to touch. [Harry gains affinity for The Transfigurative Arts]

[][IMPLEMENT-CORE] Horn Shavings: Silvery and beautiful, almost crystal clear at the tips. [Harry gains affinity for Ritual Crafting]

With it in hand and the rejected options back in the cases, he stretched back down towards the floor.

Three hands sank into the folds of his clothes and pulled out three items.

A ring, a staff and a wand.

"These... are the standard Implements... for magicians..." Garrick explained as he approached once more. "While it is... imperative... that the core and material of the implement... suit the user's nature... affinity can be ignored... when it comes to the shape."

He held up the ring, "The smallest type of Implement... but in the right context... the mightiest... Best suited for subtle work... such as my own profession... or medicinal work... Your mother wore one... to great use... in her crafts."

He then held up the staff, "The largest... and the least subtle. Though it is far from my prefference... having someone capable of... extraordinarily loud acts... of conjuration and transfiguration... can always be very useful. Your father wielded one... of similar material to yours..."

And finally, he held up the wand. "The middle child... and the one you hold affinity for... A decent jack-of-all-trades... in craft and in the arts... though it does make mastery... complicated."

The exampled sunk back into Garrick's robes and he continued, "Affinity... means the shape that is most easy... for your use. But... those that ignore it... upon achieving mastery... see far greater results."

What shape does Harry pick?

[][IMPLEMENT-SHAPE] The Staff

[][IMPLEMENT-SHAPE] The Wand

[][IMPLEMENT-SHAPE] The Ring

OXOXO​

Well... that whole experience sure was... a thing.

Still trembling a bit at the memory, Harry went to some random bookstore (second-hand, at Hagrid insistance) and picked up the required reading. Some books on spells, some books on maths and other boring normal subjects (Harry was very disappointed to learn that being a magic school didn't make Hogwarts less of a school), and a book that Hagrid recommended on a subject called "cryptozoology".

Inside he saw a brown-haired girl asking all the questions he would've usually asked a mile-a-minute, clearly overwhelming the poor bookstore worker. Usually he would've liked with another clear muggleborn or muggle-raised magician, but...

Yeah, bugger that. He needed a couple minutes to stop quivering at the mental image of Garrick Ollivander dangling from the ceiling.

OXOXO​

Arms loaded with book bags, some of which Hagrid kindly offered to carry but which Harry refused as some of his enthusiasm returned at the thought of getting unfettered access to magical knowledge, they both headed to a nice little store with large shelves full of useful odds and ends.

Hagrid carried a basket on his enormous arm as he filled it with a small cauldron about double the size of a basketball, small tin scales, a few knives, a large amount of papyrus scrolls, small ink bottles, quills, backup quill tips and maps of England that showed quite a bit more terrain than any other maps that Harry had seen before.

Some straight up showed continents he didn't know existed, such as one of Atlantis and one of somewhere called the Feywild.

At the end, Hagrid stopped at an aisle labeled "storage", which had racks of coats and shelves luggage side-by-side.

"Alright, this here is why we had to do our book shopping at a second-hand store," Hagrid explained, rubbing his hands eagerly. "Harry, may I introduce you to the wonderful world of storage inside pocket spaces?"

Harry looked at him.

Then at the items on sale.

Then back at Hagrid.

"These just look like coats and luggages."

"They do, don't they?" Hagrid chuckled. "There are all storage units expanded through pre-made rituals, they just need you to attune yourself to them and they will let you fit as much as you like inside of them. Er... within reason. You can't put an ocean in your pocket."

He thought it over.

"Well, some of those better models can, but they don't sell those here. And they're out of our price range anyhow."

Harry looked over the items with newfound interest.

[][STORAGE] A Nice Coat: "It'll adjust to your growth, and you can make it fit your House colours if you go to Madame's again next year. Plus, speaking from personal experience, the ladies love a nice longcoat."

[][STORAGE] Luggage: "Oh, that's a shame. They're out of walking models. Well, we can still get you one of the weightless ones."

OXOXO​

After that, it only took a quick trip to the apothecary to pick up a bunch of sealed jars full of squirming things suspended in liquids and bags of dried plants before they were done with shopping.

"Well then," Hagrid said, brushing off his hands and smiling at Harry. "How about that ice cream? I believe there's a conversation we ought to have."

Harry smiled back and nodded, happy to let Hagrid lead the way out.

On the way to the door, back through the aisles leading to the counter at the back of the store, Harry's eyes caught on blonde hair.

He almost thought it was Draco again, but this was more yellow than silver. Upon looking closer, he noticed it was a short girl, hair done up in a bun, who was climbing on a shelf in an effort to reach something called "floating pumpkins".

There was a horrible moment of unrealization in which Harry's brain didn't process how the shelf was starting to tip over, about to crush the little girl. But he realized it, and at the last second...

[][HERO] He Took His Implement and Saved Her!: It's only right.

[][HERO] He Did Nothing!: You're eleven. You ain't running for Superman.

---

Spoiler: Footnotes

[1]: Unbeknownst to him, Hagrid would go on to spend a large amount of his time saying that to Harry Potter every time they saw each other.

 

[Dr Heaven M.D.]

Scheduled vote count started by Dr Heaven M.D. on Feb 23, 2023 at 7:21 PM, finished with 57 posts and 23 votes.

• ---

  16 people have voted

  [X][FORGIVENESS] "It's Okay": A tool is only as deadly as its user. Ollivander is not at fault. Ollivander smiles as much as he can with his whole... face thing, then moves on.

  • sleepypanda
  • Kairos
  • UbeOne
  • Alikard310
  • Mayrun
  • always_confused
  • VaguelyLeft
  • The Shallow
  • veekie
  • LotusPocus
  • TennoTurian
  • NSMS
  • wdango
  • ComiTurtle
  • DangerClose59
  • Anglers

  14 people have voted

  [X][HERO] He Took His Implement and Saved Her!: It's only right.

  • sleepypanda
  • Kairos
  • UbeOne
  • Alikard310
  • Mayrun
  • always_confused
  • VaguelyLeft
  • veekie
  • LotusPocus
  • TennoTurian
  • NSMS
  • ComiTurtle
  • DangerClose59
  • Anglers

  11 people have voted

  [X][IMPLEMENT-SHAPE] The Ring

  • sleepypanda
  • UbeOne
  • Alikard310
  • Mayrun
  • always_confused
  • The Shallow
  • veekie
  • LotusPocus
  • NSMS
  • ComiTurtle
  • Anglers

  10 people have voted

  [X][DRACO] Write-in three topics that you want to ask him about
  -[X] Hogwarts (since we basically know nothing about it)
  -[X] The Magical world in general (Because a secret society probably has all kinds of weird stuff)
  -[X] What magical kids do for fun (I mean are there magical video games? That's definitely an important question)

  • UbeOne
  • Alikard310
  • Mayrun
  • always_confused
  • The Shallow
  • veekie
  • LotusPocus
  • NSMS
  • DangerClose59
  • Anglers

  7 people have voted

  [X][IMPLEMENT-CORE] Telltale Heart: A dark red colour, and now that it's out of the case it's quite audible. [Harry gains affinity for The Conjurative Arts]

  • Kairos
  • UbeOne
  • Mayrun
  • always_confused
  • VaguelyLeft
  • ComiTurtle
  • DangerClose59

  6 people have voted

  [X][STORAGE] A Nice Coat: "It'll adjust to your growth, and you can make it fit your House colours if you go to Madame's again next year. Plus, speaking from personal experience, the ladies love a nice longcoat."

  • sleepypanda
  • Kairos
  • UbeOne
  • veekie
  • ComiTurtle
  • DangerClose59

  6 people have voted

  [X][CROSSOVER] No Crossover: No mixing chocolate and peanut butter. Keep it strictly a rewrite.

  • sleepypanda
  • UbeOne
  • Mayrun
  • always_confused
  • NSMS
  • DangerClose59

  5 people have voted

  [X][EXIT] Gave his aunt a hug: Either to mend things or to reassure her. She wraps a hand around your neck and holds you tight, before slowly letting go.

  • sevgre
  • ScholasticKnyght
  • catxfighter_3_1
  • antsx
  • MossPiglet

  5 people have voted

  [X][IMPLEMENT-CORE] Horn Shavings: Silvery and beautiful, almost crystal clear at the tips. [Harry gains affinity for Ritual Crafting]

  • sleepypanda
  • Alikard310
  • veekie
  • LotusPocus
  • TennoTurian

  5 people have voted

  [X][CROSSOVER] Only Expies: In art, you're basically allowed plagiarism if you change the names and call it a homage if you get caught. Have expies of the Addams and Enid Sinckair appear.

  • veekie
  • LotusPocus
  • ComiTurtle
  • hapcelion
  • Anglers

  4 people have voted

  [X][FEELS] ... Full of Promises: Harry tried to make his family understand that he wouldn't repeat the mistakes his mother made. He'd sworn to keep Vernon, Petunia and Dudley in his heart. He wasn't sure she believed him, but Vernon nodded approvingly.

  • sevgre
  • ScholasticKnyght
  • catxfighter_3_1
  • antsx

  4 people have voted

  [X][PURCHASES] Select the Order in Which Items are Purchased: Write-in.
  -[X] 1st: Uniform
  -[X] 2nd: Implement
  -[X] 3rd: Books
  -[X] 4th: General Supplies
  -[X] 5th: Ingredients

  • sevgre
  • ScholasticKnyght
  • catxfighter_3_1
  • antsx

  4 people have voted

  [X][IMPLEMENT-SHAPE] The Staff

  • Kairos
  • VaguelyLeft
  • TennoTurian
  • DangerClose59

  2 people have voted

  [X][CROSSOVER] Full Crossover: Have the Addams and Sinclair families just straight-up show up in the story with minimal changes to fit the 'verse.

  • Evaunit02mark1
  • The Shallow

  2 people have voted

  [X][IMPLEMENT-CORE] Small Bones: Too small to even belong to mice, but when one is moved the others spin accordinly. [Harry gains affinity for Accord Crafting]

  • The Shallow
  • NSMS

  2 people have voted

  [X][STORAGE] Luggage: "Oh, that's a shame. They're out of walking models. Well, we can still get you one of the weightless ones."

  • LotusPocus
  • Anglers

  1 people have voted

  [X][FEELS] ... Tense and Angry: As soon as he processed things, Harry got more angry than he'd ever been. Magic? His parents had been magic and they'd kept that from you?! He yelled some things he maybe regretted saying now, and Petunia and Vernon had yelled back. It had been a day since they talked to each other.

  • MossPiglet

  1 people have voted

  [X][DRACO] Hogwarts, Noble Magician Houses, Does He Want To Be Your Friend,

  • sleepypanda

  1 people have voted

  [X][DRACO] Write-in three topics that you want to ask him about
  -[X] Hogwarts (since we basically know nothing about it)
  -[X] What magical kids do for fun (I mean are there magical video games? That's definitely an important question)
  -[X] You said you're a noble does that mean there is a wizard queen or king? (Or is the Queen a wizard, she probably is!)

  • ComiTurtle

  1 people have voted

  [X][DRACO] Write-in three topics that you want to ask him about
  -[X] Hogwarts (since we basically know nothing about it)
  -[X] The Magical world and it's customs (Hello, I'm new and I have no idea how all this works or how to act!)
  -[X] What magical kids do for fun (I mean are there magical video games? That's definitely an important question)

  • TennoTurian

 

[Dr Heaven M.D.]

Spoiler

[X][DRACO] Write-in three topics that you want to ask him about
-[X] Hogwarts (since we basically know nothing about it)
-[X] The Magical world in general (Because a secret society probably has all kinds of weird stuff)
-[X] What magical kids do for fun (I mean are there magical video games? That's definitely an important question)

[X][FORGIVENESS] "It's Okay": A tool is only as deadly as its user. Ollivander is not at fault. Ollivander smiles as much as he can with his whole... face thing, then moves on.

[X][IMPLEMENT-CORE] Telltale Heart: A dark red colour, and now that it's out of the case it's quite audible. [Harry gains affinity for The Conjurative Arts]

[X][IMPLEMENT-SHAPE] The Ring

[X][STORAGE] A Nice Coat: "It'll adjust to your growth, and you can make it fit your House colours if you go to Madame's again next year. Plus, speaking from personal experience, the ladies love a nice longcoat."

[X][HERO] He Took His Implement and Saved Her!: It's only right.

---

Harry sat next to Draco, mind whirring with possible questions.

Well, okay, first things first: triage. What did Harry need to know the most?

"Um..." he started, clearing his throat before asking, "What's Hogwarts like?"

"Well... it's a school."

...

...

...

Harry gave Draco a flat look.

"Yeah, I didn't explain that right," Draco sighed. "So... well, it's like a muggle school from my understanding, but the non-magical subjects are for the morning classes. Then there's a couple hours of rest, and after that students go to magic classes; general things like Conjuration, Evocation, or Accord and Ritual Crafting."

Harry nodded, "Alright... that's it? Just four subjects?"

"Well, in the third year we pick two extra subjects that are more specialized, but that's optional. There's a lot to learn just within those subjects," Draco explained. "With some fringe exceptions, all magic is some form or variation of those four main branches. That's why the houses are divided according to them."

"The houses? Like your House Malfoy?"

"No, the Hogwarts houses," Draco patiently said. "Griffyndor is the House of those most aligned with Evocation, Ravenclaw for those specializing in Conjuration, Hufflepuff for Rituals, and Slytherin for Accords."

"Right..."

"Are you lost?"

"A little," Harry confessed.

"They'll explain it in more detail at the school," Draco dismissed, waving his hand. "Now, what you need to understand is that Hogwarts isn't about... learning."

"It's not?"

"Well, yes, ideally students should learn enough to hold jobs and junk. If they're not, y'know, already connected. Like me."

"Ah."

"I'm saying I won't have to work a day of my life."

"No, yeah, I got that."

"Because I'm rich and noble."

"I said I got it."

"Good," Draco nodded. "But the thing about the Unspoken World is that it's... pretty tight-knit, I guess I would describe it?"

"I noticed that. Everyone seems to know each other."

"Yes, well... one in ten thousand people have the capacity to be a magician, and of that number only a percentage go on to pursue an education and form a part of the greater Unspoken England. Some choose to never leave the muggle world, or if they do, they gain control of one of the hidden lands in the isles or join a disconnected hidden society."

"Sounds... a little lonely," Harry noted.

"There's a fair bit of overlap between anti-social personalities and the capacity for enormous reality-warping power," Draco shrugged. "In the end, the result is the same. Hogwarts specifically and Unspoken England in general are all best navigated according to whom you know and what favours you are owed."

Harry scratched his chin, thinking. "What happens if you don't know anyone at school? Or... anyone 'important', I suppose?"

"Well... best case scenario, you are ignored and you end up having some ignoble job after school," Draco said, with the tone of someone discussing a fate worse than death. "Wost case... no one is there to help you if you catch someone's ire."

"Hm," said Harry, thinking back to bullies willing to pick on little orphan Harry, and how often Dudley'd had to intercept them. "Noted. So then... how does magical England work?"

"Unspoken England," Draco corrected. "All of England is magical, even if muggles don't know it. The society is what's Unspoken."

"Right."

"As for how it works... well, making friends is important," said Draco. "You should always measure how you'll be percieved for doing something against what benefits you'll get out of doing it."

"Sounds a little hollow," Harry noted. "Don't magicians ever do things just 'cause they believe in them?"

Draco's expression darkened, "Yes. And it tends to backfire horribly."

"Oh."

The young boy took a deep breath, shook his head a bit and continued, "In any case... what you want to do is ally yourself with a Noble House, especially one in good standing. Are you familiar with monarchies?"

Harry's face blanked.

Draco watched him, sighed, and explained, "Right, so... at the bottom there's peasants. At most, they own their own homes, maybe their own business. But all of that is a part of a town, which is ruled by a mayor, which is an elected position."

"Okay," Harry nodded.

"Towns and their surrounding areas are part of a barony, or holding, which is ruled by a Baron. That is an inherited position, as is each one above it, though one can become a Baron through marriage or great accomplishments."

Harry kept nodding.

"A handful of baronies make up a County, which is ruled by a Count."

"Makes sense."

"A Viscount rules a collection of weaker Counts."

"Sure."

"Earls, like my parents, rule over roughly 8 or less counties, depending on size and power of said territories."

"Uh-huh."

"Then a Duke rules over three or so Earldoms, depending on the same factors."

"Okay."

"And a Prince controls one quarter of the Dukedoms, while the King rules the entire Kingdom."

"Right, and the Prince is the King's son?"

"No, that's muggle nonsense. Prince is a status, which stays in a family line, same as King. A King or Queen's child is simply a Monarch-in-Training. A Prince can, however, challenge for the position of King once per decade, but only one family at a time can do it so the four Princely families have to coordinate, which is usually done with tourneys, duels and other various types of competitions."

Harry nodded again. His eyes were getting a bit glossy, but Draco kept explaining enthusiastically.

"It's also forbidden for the Princely families to marry between each other, but every rank below them can, and in fact can mix between statuses, which leads to a lot of negotiations for resources, secrets and magic items. There's also a lot of spy games, which are very fun. One time I negotiated a treaty with a Barony, and..."

Harry kept nodding.

"... have I lost you somewhere along the way?"

"A while back yes," Harry admitted. "I think I'll just pretend to know what's going on and hope that I actually learn it along the way."

"Does that usually work for you?"

"It's how I got through school so far."

Draco looked at him, then shrugged. "Fair enough."

"So... you mentioned resources. Are Magicians going around diggins stuff out of the earth and trading in minerals and clothes?"

"God, no! We have businesses for that; if a House wants any of that it can just buy a few businesses and have them work directly for them. Noble Houses trade in pacts, stars and like I said, magic items."

"Huh. And what level is House Malfoy at?"

"Well..." Draco's expression darkened again as he looked away. "We used to be Princes..."

... hm. Harry might've stuck his foot in his mouth on this one.

Change of topic, activate!

"What do magician kids do for fun, anyway?"

"Huh?" Draco asked, snapped out of his brooding by the non-sequitor.

"Like... are there magical video games?"

"Video... those are those moving pictures that only do one thing, right?" Malfoy asked. "How do you play games with them?"

Okay, so maybe Harry could blow his mind by showing him the NES later. But for now... "So what do you play?"

"Well... a lot of noble children are encouraged to read a lot of history, learn an art or trade of some kind. Really become cultured," Draco explained, somewhat awkwardly. "I myself am on my way to master the violin."

"And that's fun?"

"... not really."

Harry snorted. "Alright. Sports?"

"I don't really like to run around..." Draco confessed.

"There are no magic sports?"

"Well, a few centuries back there was this stupid idea called Quidditch, but the rules made no sense and people kept dying, so the whole concept was scrapped pretty thoroughly."

"People died playing this? What did it involve?"

"Flying around at a few kilometers per hour on brittle pieces of wood while people threw literal iron balls at your head. And the games didn't end until a small flying object was caught, so some games could stretch on for days, weeks or even months on end."

Harry looked at Draco, gobsmacked.

"... common sense isn't very common in the Unspoken World, I'm afraid," he said, blushing a bit. "I think we make up for it by having access to warping reality, though."

"... yeah, sure," Harry shrugged. "So magician children just... get bored."

"We're encouraged to make our own fun," Draco insisted. "I've found a great joy in discovering what notes to play to make the sprites my father studies move in certain patterns."

"Right," Harry said, skeptically. "Maybe some day you can come over and my cousin and I can show you something that is... y'know. Actually fun."

Draco blinked, but he smiled a bit as he said, "Bold words, Mr..."

He paused, flushed a little and said, "Um, what was your surname again? I don't think you mentioned it to me."

Harry looked towards the other families. They were ignoring them, and there weren't any workers around...

[][DRACO] Tell Him: What's the harm in one person knowing?

[][DRACO] Don't Tell Him: Make some excuse or just straight up tell him you can't say your name.

Before Draco can react, he got called to have his clothes fitted. After that, the two boys didn't get another chance to talk.

OXOXO​

Walking out of Ollivander's, only mildly traumatized, Harry inspected the new wooden ring decorating his right middle finger.

Spoiler: Your New Implement

The green sand/glass/whatever it was around it was, in Garrick's words, purely decorative and meant to match his eyes.

Wrapped under the decoration, however, were the much more important and vital heartstrings of the beating heart that Harry had chosen.

Pulsing pieces that he could've sworn he could still feel beating around his finger when he focused.

And speaking of hearts, a warm feeling stirred in his when he looked down at his new implement. The knowledge that his mother once had a ring much like this one once decorating her own hand...

He felt a bit closer to her, in some unspoken way.

Smiling for a second before memories of a spider-like person re-entered his brain, Harry left.

But not without asking himself a question. Hagrid had explained, in a low mutter as they walked to the bookstore, that Ollivander chose to become that in pursuit of better carrying out his job.

Was that the same impulse that drove Harry's mother to "give away" parts of herself?

Was it possible that he would one day feel the same impulse?

OXOXO​

Harry didn't really think before acting.

His hand reached out for it, and the light caught the green band around his ring in an odd way, reflecting.

Before his eyes, almost too quick to notice, dozens of small flickers of flame burst into existance around Harry's hand. These flames balled up into themselves, and promptly grew spindly arms and legs.

Harry barely had time to question if he'd lost his mind before these little sprites dashed forward through the air, multiplying on the way until there at least a hundred of them, all of which hit the shelves at the same time with enough force to send it smashing back into place, promptly dislodging the blonde girl from the shelves.

Still moving without thinking, his new black longcoat flaring behind him as he rushed, Harry managed to catch her before she did more than stumble a bit, landing in his arms.

She was a bit heavy, but Aunt Petunia had nailed into Harry's brain that he should never, ever say that to someone, so instead he tried to grin reassuringly as he asked, "Are you alright?"

The blonde girl looked at him.

She kept looking at him for a while.

Her face started to get a bit red.

Was she sick? Harry made to check on her temperature before she promptly scrambled out of his arms, yelled her thanks at him, then ran out of the store as fast as her little legs would carry her.

Harry stood there, clueless and confused.

Hagrid just started chuckling and patting himself on the back for recommending the coat.

[Harry gained the trait: Prince Charming! He's still just a kid, but puberty's looking like an easy ride if he keeps rescuing people.]

[Harry gained the trait: Oblivious! Practically obligatory in male protagonists, unfortunately.]

OXOXO​

In the end, Harry and Hagrid wound up sitting in a private balcony at an ice cream shop called Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour, which for some ungodly reason offered flavours such as Sentient Slime, Troll Mucus, Horror Incarnate, Sapient Slime, The Slow But Inevitable Realization That Your Grandmother is Racist, Autumn Chill, Muddy Water, Defeat, The Feet, and worst of all: Mint Chocolate.

[][ICE-CREAM] Write-in Your Order: Feel free to get wacky with it.

Hagrid himself ordered Rocky Road, which also had the consistency of a rocky road because magicians just have to put whimsy into everything even if it's a bad idea, apparently.

"So..." Hagrid said, scraping his plastic spoon uselessly against his rock ice cream. "I owe you some answers, and now that we've some privacy... what do you want to know?"

[][HAGRID] Write-in Five Topics to Question Hagrid About: [e.g.: Why You Couldn't Tell People Your Name, Why Does Everything Have Whimsy, More About the Unspoken World (be specific), More About Hogwarts, Magic, Your Parents, etc.]

---

Author's Note: I know the ring in the picture isn't holly, but instead walnut, but frankly holly is a lame-looking material. So let's just say magic holly trees are, like, darker 'cause of wizard junk.

Shoutout to @TheFat1, who taught me the system of nobility which I just straight-up stole from his campaign. I would've asked for permission but, like, I didn't want to. So forgiveness it is instead.

 

[Dr Heaven M.D.]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[X][DRACO] Don't Tell Him: Make some excuse or just straight up tell him you can't say your name.
-[X] Tell him Hagrid said it was better not to and while Harry doesn't know much he does know enough to listen to the guy that does.
-[X] Apologize if that's rude because to be fair, Draco did tell him his.

[X][ICE-CREAM] Write-in Your Order: Feel free to get wacky with it.
-[X] Dragon fire Cinnamon cookie, with sprinkles. (Obviously attempt to blow smoke rings like a boss.)

[X][HAGRID] Write-in Five Topics to Question Hagrid About:
-[X] What exactly did Harry's parents do? (Not war related but in general. Their hobbies, jobs, friends, etc)
-[X] Why are we hiding our last name? Is it like a spy thing? Were our parents spies?
-[X] What does Hagrid do for fun? (Draco's "make your own fun" thing was a bit worrying. Harry might have to stage some kind of revolution for magical kid kind.)
-[X] Hagrid said that Ollivander turned himself into what he is, is that normal for wizards? Is it permanent? Because you know, if becoming a dragon is on the table...
-[X] Okay seriously what's with the Whimsy? Is it court mandated? Is there a fine you have to pay if you don't act silly enough?

---

Harry took a moment to organize his thoughts, methodically sorting his questions in his mind and trying to choose the most vital and important one to start with.

Then his eyes caught on the elegant glass bowl of complimentary peppermint candies. As he watched, one grew extremely human-like eyes and a mouth, the latter of which it then used to say, "Eat me! I'm good for you!"

The other candies grew similar features and started chattering about how good they would make Harry's breath smell.

Very calmly, Harry grabbed the bowl, tossed it over the side of the balcony and asked, "First of all, what's with all the whimsy?"

Hagrid blinked. "I don't understand the question."

"The whimsy. Everything's so... goofy," Harry explained. He licked his Dragonfire Cinnamon Cookie ice cream, and gestured at how the sprinkles tried to run away from the licked area while black smoke blew out of his mouth, saying, "See?"

Hagrid blinked again, watching the smoke rise up above their heads, then shrugged as he turned back to Harry, "I don't get it. That's just stuff."

"Just stuff?"

"Yeah, like... why is the sky blue, right? It's just how stuff is."

"But the sky is like that because of like, physics and stuff. Magicians are making things whimsical."

"Yes."

"So why?"

"Why what?"

"Why make things whimsical?"

"... Harry, I'm going to be honest, you're not making any sense here."

Yeah, okay, this was a lost cause.

Harry sighed and took another lick of his ice cream.

The taste was somewhat spicy, yet sweet, and he tried to blow smoke rings. Since he'd never tried anything of the like before, he failed miserably, though the smoke did curl into the shape of birds by itself.

So, what did he want to know above all?

"What..." he started. He swallowed nervously, then forced himself to ask, "What did my parents do? Like, for a living? My aunt and uncle said they were artists, but that was probably a lie, so..."

Hagrid bit a chunk out of his ice cream, which made worrying sounds inside his mouth, before he swallowed and said, "They... didn't have much of a chance to have careers, with the war. Your dad, James, he was the heir to a few apothecaries and minor potions businesses, and he ran them on the side, but he always talked about writings stories. He'd gotten really hooked on muggle comics, especially those 'Marvel' ones."

Harry nodded, noting the information, then asking, "And my mom?"

"Well..." Hagrid cleared his throat, a little awkwardly, "Lily was a wonderful woman. I want that to be understood, alright?"

Harry nodded.

"A wonderful woman," the giant of a man repeated. "She was always willing to help, she always stood up for people when they needed someone to stand for them, and she was easily one of the smartest people in her year. We call the Conjurative magics 'arts', but she was truly an artist in how she handled the elements. She made it look easy.

"With all this in mind... you need to understand that she didn't really... make any friends. I don't think there's anyone alive that could tell what she wanted to do for a job, and whatever she did for a living, no one knew."

Harry blinked. "... no one? No one at all? She didn't have any friends?"

Hagrid scratched the back of his neck, a little awkward, "Well, there were people she liked - and I count myself in that number - and obviously there was your dad, but Lily... stood apart from the group, most of the time. She had something to prove."

"What did she want to prove?"

"The Unspoken World is... not unkind to strangers and muggleborn children, but it can be unwelcoming. Lily sometimes spoke of wanting to be recognized for her skills."

Harry frowned. Was that why she'd given away parts of herself? She threw away her connection to her sister to be recognized as part of an 'unwelcoming' world?

"She wasn't unloved," Hagrid hurried to explain. "She was... appreciated, and many people mourned her death. But... I don't think I know of anyone that truly... knew her secrets, or was held in her confidence."

"That's a little sad," Harry said.

Hagrid nodded his head to the side, as if granting the point.

"If it's any consolation," he said, "Towards the end, she was... opening up. It'd be irresponsible to speculate how she could have been if she'd had more time, but... She associated with the rest of us, in the years since marrying James and getting pregnant with you, and even before that she always contributed to the cause."

"What cause? Who was 'us'?" Harry blinked, then leaned forward as he said, "You mentioned a war."

Hagrid nodded, scraping the spoon against his ice cream once more as he carefully planned his words. "Before... Before your birth, there was a war. A secret war, fought as much in the streets and hidden societies of Unspoken England as in the hearts of its people. Your parents, myself and a number of associates fought against a side that was... frankly, far more powerful than what we had on hand. But that was mostly because of the power of one man."

"Who?"

"... names have power, Harry," Hagrid whispered. "This mage... knowing this, he performed some strange ritual to sacrifice his name and instead take one that worked as a sort of... invocation. Or perhaps, worship. With every utterance, he became mightier, and even to this day no one dares speak his name. So... we called him by a few titles. The Unmentionable Mage, the Shadowman, the Unforgiven. His followers called him the Dark Lord, his enemies called him the Walking Plague."

Harry swallowed. With every title, the air around them seemed to cool and stab into his flesh. With every sillable, shadows grew deeper and darker around them, and the summer sunlight failed to reach the little balcony just a little bit more.

Goosebumps raised along Harry's arms.

"This... thing in the guise of a man," Hagrid spat. "He sought to conquer Unspoken England, and through it, campaign against the wider Unspoken World. Ownership itself has power, and it's not unimaginable for a man that single-handedly rules a single nation to take over another, and then another, and so on. And yet, other nations did not seek to help until the danger actually left our borders."

"What... what happened to him?"

"... if we're lucky, he's dead," Hagrid said, taking another bite of his ice cream. "And in fact... that's what is believed your parents did."

Harry blinked, "What?"

"Eleven years ago... the Potter family home was found. Burnt to cinders with magical fire that has yet to fully go out, stained with dark magicks that corrupted and salted the earth around it, and with three corpses and one babe found in the ruins. No one knows exactly how things went down, but... conclusions are easy to make."

Harry's eyes started to sting, tears coming to his eyes as he looked down. "O-Oh..."

Hagrid looked away, giving the boy some privacy while he sniffed.

It was... bittersweet knowledge, though mostly bitter.

There was some relief in finally knowing how they'd gone out, and there was a lot of pride in knowing that they'd taken some sort evil monster down with them, but... if he had to choose between having parents and having dead heroes, Harry would have easily chosen parents a hundred times over.

After a while, once Harry mostly got himself under control and nodded for him to continue, Hagrid continued explaining.

"Your parents' sacrifice was not ignored," he assured Harry. "Their valiant stand against evil was rewarded with a posthumous title as Princes of England, since there was a vacant spot once the Malfoys got kicked out."

Harry blinked and said, "Wait, does that mean...?"

"Yup. Yer a Prince, Harry."

Wow, okay. Just... huh.

"So I'm, like, in charge of a bunch of people?"

"Well, not directly, and you're not supposed to take charge just yet," Hagrid reassured him. "Magicians don't reach majority of age until they're seventeen, and they're not expected to take control of their political obligations until then. Plenty of time for you to learn what you've gotta."

"I... see," Harry said.

It was like something out of a storybook. An orphan boy that suddenly discovered he was the heir to a kingdom?

Except... not really a kingdom. A princedom?

He was royalty, was the point.

"Is that why I've had to keep my surname a secret?"

Hagrid nodded, "There's... well, there'll be no point hiding it once you're on your way to Hogwarts, but for now I thought you might appreciate a bit of breathing room. Lots of people want what House Potter can offer now, and even the ones not interested might want to thank you for what James and Lily did, so it could be... overwhelming."

'What House Potter can offer now', he'd said.

"Am.. am I rich?" Harry questioned.

"Well..." Hagrid tilted his head to the side as he awkwardly stretched the word. "House Potter has been collecting its due taxes from its vassals over the last eleven years, plus the reward money granted to your parents for defeating the Unmentionable, but... there are wealthier Houses out there. You're about the bottom of the top, I'd say."

Huh. So much for upper middle class, then. Harry had to wonder how his aunt and uncle would take this.

"Is that how you've been paying for all this?"

"Oh, no! Not at all," Hagrid said, shocked by the implication. "The headmaster's been the one footing the bill. Well, him and the orphan fund, but you understand."

"The headmaster? That Dumbledore guy?"

"Yes, yes," Hagrid said, nodding eagerly. "Great man, that Dumbledore. A bonafide archmage, you know."

"Um..."

"Oh, um, an archmage is a magician that has gained mastery of at least one of the arts and one of the crafts. Very difficult thing to do, you see."

"Right..." Harry said.

He licked his halfway melted ice cream and blew a few smoke bubbles to give himself time to clear his thoughts.

It was... a bit uncomfortable knowing that money meant for penniless orphans went to him, considering he was some sort of royalty now. Or, rather, he'd always been?

Ugh, all these revelations were making his head hurt. For the moment...

[][MONEY] ... he decided to pay back the orphan fund... : It's only right. You can, so you should. It takes a bit to convince Hagrid, but he smiles at you and mutters about you being just like James when you do.

[][MONEY] ... he decided to ignore the issue... : They chose to pay it for you, and after what your parents did, it's really the least they can do. Hagrid sees no issue with this, and neither does anyone else you meet.

... and then he moved on to simpler questions, maybe catch a break from all these heavy topics.

Harry took a deep breath, and let it exit his lungs slowly. Over the conversation, the oppressive air that had come with discussing the Unmentionable had slowly drained away, and as he licked his ice cream again, he felt himself warm back up and the sun shine on him once more.

"So..." he started, drumming his fingers on the table as he thought it over. "Could... could I turn myself into a dragon?"

"Not usually, I've looked into it," Hagrid said automatically, before blinking, "Wait, that's the kind of question I would ask. Why are you asking that?"

"Well... it's just, Ollivander... he turned himself into a sort of spider thing, so..." Harry shrugged. "It'd be cool to turn into a dragon."

"Ah," Hagrid said, nodding. "Yes, it'd be bloody tight, but no. What Garrick did, or rather, what he became... that was the cost. It's not impossible to negotiate pacts in such a way that you end up becoming a dragon, though when it does happen it's usually an unwanted consequence of greed or somesuch. And it's unusual for pacts to have such physical costs. Mostly, what you give away lives in your soul."

Harry thought of his aunt, talking about his mother.

Not worth it, he decided. Nothing's worth hurting her like that.

And yet, a doubt niggled in the back of his mind. One that he did his best to ignore.

"Alright, so... what do you do for fun?" asked Harry, taking Hagrid by surprise. "I talked with this Draco boy over at Madame Malkin's, and he told me that magicians all make their own fun. That can't be true, can it?"

"Well... it's not the whole truth," Hagrid said. "There's books, and paintings, and a lot of muggleborns, muggle-raised and half-muggleborn kids have been bringing in comics and such into the Unspoken World. A lot of young folks like those."

"Right," Harry nodded. "So what do you do?"

"Er... I go on walks?"

Harry's face flattened.

"Well, they're very exciting walks!" Hagrid defended. At your continued disbelief, he huffed and went at his ice cream, muttering, "Don't gotta justify myself... walks are exciting... loads of fun, walks..."

"Right," Harry drawled.

He kept it up for a while, before he snorted. Hagrid looked up, confused, and that broke the damn and made Harry start fully laughing.

Hagrid huffed, but unbeknownst to Harry, he felt a great plume of relief flooding his chest at seeing the boy smiling after the heavy talk a few minutes ago.

Besides, he laughed just like James.

OXOXO​

After their ice cream was finished and Hagrid crushed the sprinkle rebellion that the ones that escaped the cone formed, Hagrid accompanied Harry out Diagon Alley.

On the way they saw Draco and two adults who must've been his parents, and Harry waved goodbye. Draco had been a tad insulted and mystified by Harry keeping his surname a secret, but apparently he'd gotten over it as he waved Harry goodbye with a small smile on his face.

Hours later, Hagrid and his bike dropped Harry off at #4, again garnering looks from the neighbors before he drove off.

Things were a tad tense when Harry got home, but another hug to his aunt seemed to dispell things.

Harry spent his last few months before school...

Choose up to three:
[][PRELUDE-END] With His Aunt: She turned a tad stone-faced when Harry explained the circumstances of her sister's death, and when he mentioned that she had few friends, she'd scoffed about magicians not knowing how to appreciate the best of them. Maybe she could use some company?

[][PRELUDE-END] With His Uncle: Vernon asked Harry for some one-on-one time together. Apparently he had some life lessons he wanted to instill in Harry before he left.

[][PRELUDE-END] With His Cousin: Dudley had a million questions to ask after Harry came back, and together they had a million plans to bake after discovering that Harry was a Prince.

[][PRELUDE-END] Gathering Entertainment: Magician kids had to make their own entertainment, huh? Well, what if they got introduced to a little something called video games? It took a bit of convincing, but Vernon had agreed to buy a game boy and some games for Harry. If you rented it out, you might have enough gold to send back that he could buy more, and those Harry could sell for higher prices!
-[][Entertainment] Actually...: Why limit himself to games? Write-in up to three other muggle products (e.g.: comics, soda, etc).

[][PRELUDE-END] Studying His Books: C'mon, magic books? Like you're not gonna read through them.

And soon enough, it was time for the family to drive to King's Cross.

 

[Dr Heaven M.D.]

Scheduled vote count started by Dr Heaven M.D. on Feb 26, 2023 at 7:45 PM, finished with 23 posts and 17 votes.

• ---

  15 people have voted

  [X][PRELUDE-END] With His Aunt: She turned a tad stone-faced when Harry explained the circumstances of her sister's death, and when he mentioned that she had few friends, she'd scoffed about magicians not knowing how to appreciate the best of them. Maybe she could use some company?

  • Mother Nyx
  • VaguelyLeft
  • TennoTurian
  • ScholasticKnyght
  • UbeOne
  • NSMS
  • Starblight
  • Evaunit02mark1
  • veekie
  • Moon
  • The Shallow
  • ComiTurtle
  • Alikard310
  • Omida
  • _brightwing

  12 people have voted

  [X][MONEY] ... he decided to pay back the orphan fund... : It's only right. You can, so you should. It takes a bit to convince Hagrid, but he smiles at you and mutters about you being just like James when you do.

  • TennoTurian
  • sleepypanda
  • UbeOne
  • NSMS
  • Starblight
  • Evaunit02mark1
  • veekie
  • Mayrun
  • The Shallow
  • ComiTurtle
  • Alikard310
  • _brightwing

  9 people have voted

  [X][PRELUDE-END] With His Cousin: Dudley had a million questions to ask after Harry came back, and together they had a million plans to bake after discovering that Harry was a Prince.

  • ScholasticKnyght
  • UbeOne
  • NSMS
  • Starblight
  • veekie
  • Mayrun
  • The Shallow
  • ComiTurtle
  • Omida

  8 people have voted

  [X][PRELUDE-END] Studying His Books: C'mon, magic books? Like you're not gonna read through them.

  • Mother Nyx
  • VaguelyLeft
  • sleepypanda
  • Moon
  • The Shallow
  • ComiTurtle
  • Alikard310
  • Omida

  4 people have voted

  [x][PRELUDE-END] With His Uncle: Vernon asked Harry for some one-on-one time together. Apparently he had some life lessons he wanted to instill in Harry before he left.

  • UbeOne
  • NSMS
  • Starblight
  • Alikard310

  2 people have voted

  [X][PRELUDE-END] Gathering Entertainment: Magician kids had to make their own entertainment, huh? Well, what if they got introduced to a little something called video games? It took a bit of convincing, but Vernon had agreed to buy a game boy and some games for Harry. If you rented it out, you might have enough gold to send back that he could buy more, and those Harry could sell for higher prices!

  • Mother Nyx
  • VaguelyLeft

  2 people have voted

  [X][PRELUDE-END] Gathering Entertainment: Magician kids had to make their own entertainment, huh? Well, what if they got introduced to a little something called video games? It took a bit of convincing, but Vernon had agreed to buy a game boy and some games for Harry. If you rented it out, you might have enough gold to send back that he could buy more, and those Harry could sell for higher prices!
  -[X][Entertainment] Actually...: Why limit himself to games? Write-in up to three other muggle products (e.g.: comics, soda, etc).
  --[X] TTRPG (Dungeons and Dragons, Shadowrun, cyberpunk 2020, etc)
  --[X] Comics (Dc, Marvel)

  • TennoTurian
  • Moon

  2 people have voted

  [X][PRELUDE-END] Gathering Entertainment: Magician kids had to make their own entertainment, huh? Well, what if they got introduced to a little something called video games? It took a bit of convincing, but Vernon had agreed to buy a game boy and some games for Harry. If you rented it out, you might have enough gold to send back that he could buy more, and those Harry could sell for higher prices!
  -[X][Entertainment] Actually...: Why limit himself to games? Write-in up to three other muggle products (e.g.: comics, soda, etc).
  --[X] TTRPG (Dungeons and Dragons, Shadowrun, cyberpunk 2020, etc)
  --[X] Soda
  --[X] Board Games

  • ScholasticKnyght
  • Mayrun

  1 people have voted

  [X][PRELUDE-END] With His Cousin: Dudley had a million questions to ask after Harry came back, and together they had a million plans to bake after discovering that Harry was a Prince.
  -[X][Entertainment] Actually...: Why limit himself to games? Write-in up to three other muggle products (e.g.: comics, soda, etc).
  --[X] TTRPG (Dungeons and Dragons, Shadowrun, cyberpunk 2020, etc)
  --[X] Comics
  --[X] Board Games

  • Evaunit02mark1

  1 people have voted

  [X][PRELUDE-END] Gathering Entertainment: Magician kids had to make their own entertainment, huh? Well, what if they got introduced to a little something called video games? It took a bit of convincing, but Vernon had agreed to buy a game boy and some games for Harry. If you rented it out, you might have enough gold to send back that he could buy more, and those Harry could sell for higher prices!
  -[X][Entertainment] Actually...: Why limit himself to games? Write-in up to three other muggle products (e.g.: comics, soda, etc).
  --[X] TTRPG (Dungeons and Dragons, Shadowrun, cyberpunk 2020, etc)
  --[X] Comics (Dc, Marvel)
  --[X] Board Games

  • veekie

  1 people have voted

  [X][MONEY] ... he decided to ignore the issue... : They chose to pay it for you, and after what your parents did, it's really the least they can do. Hagrid sees no issue with this, and neither does anyone else you meet.

  • Moon

 

[Dr Heaven M.D.]

Spoiler: Winning Votes

[X][MONEY] ... he decided to pay back the orphan fund... : It's only right. You can, so you should. It takes a bit to convince Hagrid, but he smiles at you and mutters about you being just like James when you do.

[X][PRELUDE-END] With His Aunt: She turned a tad stone-faced when Harry explained the circumstances of her sister's death, and when he mentioned that she had few friends, she'd scoffed about magicians not knowing how to appreciate the best of them. Maybe she could use some company?

[X][PRELUDE-END] With His Cousin: Dudley had a million questions to ask after Harry came back, and together they had a million plans to bake after discovering that Harry was a Prince.

[X][PRELUDE-END] Gathering Entertainment: Magician kids had to make their own entertainment, huh? Well, what if they got introduced to a little something called video games? It took a bit of convincing, but Vernon had agreed to buy a game boy and some games for Harry. If you rented it out, you might have enough gold to send back that he could buy more, and those Harry could sell for higher prices!
-[X][Entertainment] Actually...: Why limit himself to games? Write-in up to three other muggle products (e.g.: comics, soda, etc).
--[X] TTRPG (Dungeons and Dragons, Shadowrun, Cyberpunk 2020, etc)
--[X] Comics (DC, Marvel)
--[X] Board Games

Author's Note: Sorry about the delay, fellas. Had to reboot my laptop a couple of times because it's about as old as Bojack Horseman so it's constantly crapping out on me, and every time I lost whatever I'd written thus far.

If the first part is a little rushed, it's because I've already written it three times and I want it to be freaking over with.

---

Chapter Three: A Trolley and a Trip on a Train​

The last few months before Harry left for Hogwarts were a bit of a mixed bag.

On the positive side, which was the majority of it, Dudley was more than enthusiastic to help him gather products and think up ways to make a profit that he could then send back to Privet Drive. He even recruited his dorky friend Piers to recommend different comics, board games and TTRPG Source Books for Harry to take there, once Piers was convinced that Harry was going to some "fancy private school full of sheltered rich kids with money to spare".

Harry wasn't too sure about this "Advanced Dungeons and Dragons 2E" thing that Piers gave him, but Dudley swore by it. Same for the Cyberpunk 2020 books, though Dudley muttered stuff about the new Shadowrun ones' rules not making any bloody sense, even if the world was awesome.

In the end, Harry's magic coat pockets were so full of products that they were almost stretched to the limit, which was part of the reason for why Petunia and Vernon insisted that his clothes and half of his books went in a regular suitcase.

Also in it went Dudley's parting gift, handed over with disguised tears in his eyes.

"Cor, Dudley... are you sure?" Harry asked him when he handed it over. "It's your Discman."

"Nah, it's yours now," Dudley reassured him. "I... music wouldn't be the same if you're not there to tell me not to sing along to the lyrics."

"I don't always say that," Harry muttered. "But fine. If you're sure... I'll try to make sure kids from Hogwarts learn what good music sounds like."

"Yeah," Dudley smiled. "And... you can always come back. And I'll have more CDs to share with you."

"... yeah."

Harry briefly considered hugging his cousin. The rules of the patriarchy persuaded him otherwise.

Aunt Petunia protagonized the more bitter side of things. For the most part she almost seemed to ignore Harry, or even Dudley and Vernon. She withdrew from her social circle, and rarely wrote for the newspaper.

Harry tried to badger her into coming out of her shell, tried to reassure her. To little success.

The day before Harry left for Hogwarts, though, after the family came back from dinner at this Grill & Bar that Harry really liked because of their fish and chips, she stopped him after he brushed his teeth.

From the same shelf that she'd gotten the scrapbook full of pictures from, Petunia removed a small journal bound in blue leather. Upon opening it on the first page, Harry saw written by a messy hand the words: "Property of Lily Marigold Evans, Future Archmage"

Blinking without understanding, he looked at his aunt.

"She... wrote on it often," Petunia whispered, looking away from him and it. "When I asked her about it, she told me it had resources listed on it. She filled a lot of journals like it, but that was the last one she left in our parents' home. I thought... it might be useful to you."

Harry looked down at the journal and flipped through the pages.

Countless names, most if not all scratched out, plus doodles of geometric shapes and calculations, all flashed before his eyes. Closing it, Harry felt as if the weight of his ring and the journal doubled in his grip. More ties to his mother.

"I... I don't think you'll give parts of yourself away like she did," Petunia confessed, dragging Harry's eyes back towards her. "Not on purpose. But... corruption is a slippery thing, Harry. It can sneak up on you."

Harry said nothing, watching her.

"... If I was-- No. Because I was distant, I apologize," Petunia said. Tears glimmered in her unfocused eyes as she looked away. "Not just recently. But... I couldn't stand to lose a son on top of losing my sister."

Harry's eyes filled with tears, and he gave his aunt a hug.

OXOXO
​

Petunia had said that he would be able to find his way to Station 9¾ without their help, and seeing how her hands trembled over her lap as she returned to King's Crossing, Harry had asked to say his goodbyes at the car then walk in alone.

As he was about to step outside, Vernon had parked the car and hurriedly walked around it to kneel in front of Harry just as he stepped on the sidewalk.

"Harry?"

"Um, yeah?"

"I..." Vernon struggled for a moment, looking away awkwardly, before he just put a meaty hand on his shoulder and gave him a tight smile. "Make us proud. Alright, son?"

Harry swallowed and nodded.

Vernon almost made to pull him closer for a moment, then decided against it, patted him on the shoulder and walked back to the car.

Harry waved goodbye as they drove off. Dudley waved back the whole way until they were out of sight, and probably farther and further still.

Harry saw them go, took a bracing breath, then turned around.

The station was large and bustling with people headed to and fro. Spotting a guard, Harry briefly considered asking for directions, but he didn't really look like a magician. And he didn't want to make him suspicious of the existance of magic by being the seventh hundred kid to ask about the station because a bird gave him a letter.

So instead, he just walked deeper into the station and looked around.

It didn't take long to notice a certain amount of people wearing elaborate fancy clothes and large amounts of jewelry and accessories. Seriously, why did they wear so many accessories? There was a guy with a hat on top of his hat on top of his hat, and each hat tier had a little silver chain tied around it holding a small square gemstone.

Following that particular fashion disaster, Harry quickly realized that magicians were running into a wall.

And going through, which was a far better result than every other time Harry had tried to run through a wall. Except for that one drywall incident which Dudley had sworn him into secrecy about.

There was a bit of a line for people to toss themselves against the wall, which Harry joined the end of.

He looked around and found that whenever a magician ran at a wall, muggles were always just looking away. When they looked at the line of magicians, their eyes just moved past or through them without doubting.

It was a little disqueting, actually, how magicians just dabbled with people's minds with no notable consequences. Harry looked away and tried to put it out of his mind as the line slowly advanced.
When he got to the end of it, he swallowed nervously and marched on through.

Passing through the wall felt like running across a curtain, having it go up his face the whole time. And when he got to the end of it, he immediately ran into the last family to go before him.

He grunted and stumbled back in surprise, but a hand caught him before he fell back through the wall.

"Cor! Sorry about that, mate," a voice called. Tracking up the arm, Harry found a freckled ginger boy a few years older than him.

"Honestly, George, you'd forget your own head if I weren't around," another voice called. Harry turned to find an exact copy of the first boy smiling at him, before he grabbed his other arm and together they pulled him forward into a larger group of redheads.

"Too right, Fred," the first boy said.

"Fred, George, what have I told you about kidnapping random children?!" The only adult of the group, a plump matronly woman with wrinkles around her eyes from smiling chastised them. "For goodness' sake, Fred, you know better than to stand on the doorway."

"I'm George!"

"Nice try. There's an 'F' on your shirt, genius."

Harry looked. Indeed, there was an F there.

Fred looked down at his shirt, sighed, then looked at George, who had a G on his and a similar expression of dejection.

"We should've never let her make that pact," Fred muttered.

"Oh, y'think?"

"Best deal I ever made," the matron whispered, before turning back to Harry. "Hey there, dearie. Sorry about all the chaos. First year?"

"Um, y-yes, ma'am."

"Oh, so polite! I wish some kids would learn from you."

All the kids adopted expressions of innocence, save for the oldest one who just looked smugly at the others.

"You're included in that, Percy."

The oldest gasped, offended.

Harry felt a bit awkward and started to slip off to the side. Distracted as they were with their antics, none of the family noticed, except for the only boy to be about his age, who also started slipping in the same direction, taking his own suitcase from his mother's loose fingers.

With a tilt of the head, he indicated that they should head off towards the train, and Harry nodded back and followed.

Once they were out of earshot, he leaned in and whispered, "Shouldn't you say goodbye to your mom?"

"I'll wave out of a window," the boy sighed. "It's always the same every year, I don't want to get in at the last minute because everyone kept arguing."

"Do they fight a lot?"

"Eh. Usually just when someone is about to leave for a long time, so we get all the bickering out of the way so we can hug and mum can cry about how handsome we are or something," the boy shrugged. "I just... didn't want to do that in front of everyone before my first day, you know?"

Harry nodded. He wasn't sure he totally understood, but it wasn't really any of his business.

They got on the train and quickly found an empty compartment. They had to stand on the seats to put away their luggage, but once that was done they sat on opposite sides, in a bit of an awkward silence.

"Oh, um, I'm Ron, by the way," the boy said, putting a hand forward. "Ron Weasley."

"Harry," he replied. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, he added, "Harry Potter."

Ron blinked.

Then he blinked again.

"Are you taking the piss?" he asked.

"No," Harry said, smiling a bit in amusement, "I'd show you my driver's liscense, but I'm eleven, so... I dunno, what do people know about me?"

"... Dad said that Dumbledore said that a bit of shrapnel gave you a weird scar on your head," Ron cautiously mentioned.

Harry parted his unruly hair and showed his lightningbolt scar.

Ron blinked a third time.

"Bloody hell," he whispered, "You really are Prince Potter, aren't you?"

"Uh..."

[][ADRESSING-ROYALTY] Just Harry's fine, mate: Harry doesn't like being addressed as Prince Potter. He automatically discourages people from calling him that.

[][ADRESSING-ROYALTY] Sure, that's me: Harry doesn't mind it, but he doesn't pursue it either. If someone calls him that, fine. If they don't, fine. It's whatever.

[][ADRESSING-ROYALTY] That I am, but you can just call me Potter: Harry likes being called Prince Potter. He's not going to be a prat about it, but he preffers to be called Potter and if someone makes him mad they damn well better call him by his title. Think "Mistress" Weatherwax, Granny Weatherwax to friends, "friends" and allies.

"Huh..." said Ron, "Well, um, it's nice to meet you."

"Thanks! You too."

"Can I ask, where have you been? They said you went into hiding because the Unspeakable's followers might want to... hurt you, but a lot of people still went looking for you and didn't find you."

"Oh, I've been living with my aunt and uncle, on my mum's side," Harry explained. "I only found out about magic stuff a few months ago."

"Really? Cor, I can't imagine being a Prince and not knowing."

"It's a lot like not being a Prince," Harry drily remarked. "Except you get a shock later in life."

"Huh."

Outside the sliding door to their compartment, Harry and Ron could see more and more students trickling in. When the conversation was about to restart, that Draco kid from Diagon Alley walked in front of their door. His eyes caught on Harry, then moved to Ron.

Again, like back at Madame Malkin's, his eyes hardened before he knocked twice on their door and opened it to step inside, followed shortly by two boys. The boy on the left of Draco from Harry's perspective was fairly short and skinny, with a bit of a girly face, and he was wearing a plaid green trucker hat with a four leaf clover on the front.

The boy on the opposite side was the single biggest child Harry had ever seen. He was outright comparable to Hagrid, in that Harry was pretty sure the groundskeeper had been the same size when he was eleven. His hair fell over his eyes and ears in shaggy dirty clumps, and he had a very square jaw even with the lingering traces of baby fat.

"Harry," Draco greeted, giving a small smile, "Good to see you again."

"Hey Draco," Harry smiled, waving. "Who are your friends?"

"Oh, these are my minions, Crabbe and Goyle," he introduced, gesturing to the small one and the big one respectively.

"You have minions?"

"Ancient pacts," explained Draco.

"Oh," Harry nodded. "Well, this is Ron."

"Weasley, right?" Draco questioned, finally turning his attention to Ron.

The ginger, for his part, lifted his chin a little and said, "Malfoy."

"... how do you do?"

"Can't complain. You?"

"I'm fine," said Draco.

A tense silence stretched for a bit.

"... um," said Harry. "You two know each other?"

"Our families have... interacted."

"That's a funny way of putting it, Malfoy."

"I'm a funny man, Weasley."

Ron gathered breath for a rebuke.

Yeah, no.

"Alright, both of you cut that out," Harry cut in, making them both blink and look at him. "Look, whatever happened between your folks, that's something your folks did. Did either one of you hurt the other personally?"

"Harry," said Draco, "The point is that-"

"Tsst!" Harry interrupted, the way he'd seen Aunt Marge interrupt dogs.

"It's about history," Ron tried, "We can't just-"

"Tsst! None of that!" said Harry. "Did either one of you hurt the other personally?"

"..."

"..."

"... no."

"No, I guess not."

"Good!" said Harry. "So, how about we all try to get along?"

Draco and Ron interchanged looks, before grimacing and mumbling agreements.

"Lovely," said Harry. "Now, how have you been, Draco?"

"Um, fine," said Draco, still a bit off his footing. "Listen, I just popped in to say hello. I'm actually looking for someone."

"Oh? Who?"

"Well, this probably doesn't mean anything to you, but I was hoping to get a word with Prince Potter," said Draco. "My family's territories are technically within his authority, and I was hoping to make a good impression since we'll likely be working together in the future."

... this was an opportunity to be really funny.

"Well, I'd say you'd already made a good impression," Harry brightly said.

"Pardon?"

He moved his bangs aside.

"..."

"..."

"... I'm going to kill you," said Draco, very calmly.

Harry laughed.

[][DRACO] Send him on his way: They might've called a ceasefire for now, but things might still be awkward and tense between Draco and Ron.

[][DRACO] Invite him and his minions to sit with you: You're already on friendly terms, might as well reinforce those bonds.

[][CONVERSATION] Write-in as many topics as you like (e.g.: Hogwarts Houses, How Harry Can Get Minions Of His Own, The History Between Their Houses, What Implements Everyone Has, Etc.)

---

Author's Note: Just wanna let people know, I've got a Ko-Fi and I take writing comissions for cheap, if anyone's interested.