"I cannae ken it, Fairgus. The lad jus' sooks infairmation like a spoonge. He remaimbers Aivrythin, an he's no jus' remaimbrin', he's usin' it corraictly. He's made the connaictions in his haid. I've naiver seen anythin' like it."
"Well, it's Airy fook'n Pottarrh, innit?"
"Mind yer toongue, Fairgus MacFusty!" She slapped his shoulder. "It's yer fault the fairst wairds oot his mouth were cairsin."
"Aye, tha's my shame. I've been a wee bit lax since the gairls grew."
"Maisie, wha's cairsin'?" Harry asked from the doorway to the kitchen. The boy was always eating something, though never very much. He'd already grown an inch and a half in the month he'd been staying with them.
Maisie frowned at Fergus and slapped his arm again before she turned to Harry. "Cairsin' is usin' bad lainguage or vulgar, crass words."
"Which pairt o' me name is vulgar or crass?" He looked at her with open, innocent curiosity.
"The pairt that dinnae belong in yer name, Harry. Yer name is Harry James Pottarrh. Fairgus insairted fook'n in it since he dinnae believe what 'is eyes war taillin' 'im. So no pairt of yer name be vulgar or crass, luv, that were all Fairgus."
"Oh, so fook'n isn't pairt of me name, an' tha's the crass bit."
"Aye, ye've got it."
He grinned at them and bit into an apple. "Thanks," He said, and wandered back outside.
"An' 'is ears are entirely too sharp." She sighed. "'E needs a proper chaickup, Fairgus. 'E needs a better education than I can give as well. An' before ye start te blusterin', I agree with ye we should keep 'im pairt of the family. Mairlin knoos wha' the likes o' them noble sods would do te the par bai. At least here wi' us he's got some anonaimity."
"I dinnae disagree luv, but ye knoo we cannae stop the quaistion from bein' asked. I'll go doontoon tomarrah an' see wha bukes I can fine. Braingin' a healer here might be a waste o' time in any case, wai've yet te get ainythin' te wairk on 'im."
"Aye, I'd no thought o' tha."
"Ye knoo I'd naiver sit by an' let a bai hurt. If soomthin' 'appens t'im, we'll get 'im te hospital straightaway, arigh'?"
"I suppoose tha'll have te do thain. He'll have te go t'Hogwairts befaire too long in any case, an' 'is name'll come oot then."
"Best we can do is prepare the poor lad f'rit best we can."
"They're so strange, Mother. I'm learning a great deal though, and I find myself enjoying the time I spend with them. Did you know they have more than one language?"
"That is very strange. How do they communicate?"
"They don't, not well. I'm learning four of their languages right now. It would be like dividing the Svurtr up into north, south, east, and west, and each group speaking a different language. It isn't bad enough there are Territory disputes and Breeding disputes, the pinkskins fall to warring just because they don't understand each other."
"How can they be smart enough to remember different languages and stupid enough to war over being stupid?"
"I don't know, Mother. Like I said, they're very strange. I already have two more names as well. My first name, the name I had before you named me is Harry James Pottarrh. I don't know what it means yet, but apparently Pottarrh is the name passed down from Parent to Young, and is very very old. My newest name is Duncan MacFusty, and the pinkskins that are teaching me all have that last name MacFusty, it is the name of their family."
"So they have accepted you as family?"
"They do act that way, yes. I hear them talking about me when they don't think I can. They say that I will have to go back to being Harry James Pottarrh in a short while, when I've learned as much as I can from them - that's called being 'caught up'. Then I will have to go to a place where there are many Young of my age who are all learning to be adults."
"That sounds promising! If all the Young females and males are in one place, they won't have to search far to find Mates."
"I don't know, Mother. I don't know if I'll ever really understand the pinkskins. I agree with you, and if I do find my Mate, then that will be nice, but I'm not very hopeful just now."
"You are still very new, my Young. You will know when you are ready to find a Mate. It does not matter where you are or what you are doing, you will know."
He sighed and nodded. Mother was very likely right.
"This place that all the Young go, it's something called a school. The Young don't have a choice, they have to go to this school in order to learn to control their power. They call it 'magic', and if they don't learn to control it, they can hurt each other and themselves, supposedly. I asked why that isn't taken care of in the nest by the parents, but not all pinkskins are smart enough to teach, even if they can control themselves. So they send the Young to the school to be taught by Parents who are good at teaching. It makes a strange kind of sense, but at the same time it feels wrong. If you can't teach your own Young, then your line should falter and die. That's the way of things."
"I agree with your assessment, Harry James Pottarrh Hidden Colours Duncan MacFusty. They war out of created differences, yet band together to improve the species when it is clear their lines should fail and die out. They are strange. Backward, even."
"Even worse, they need special sticks to help them use their power. The school's entire purpose is to teach them to wave their special sticks properly to accomplish things. That's only the ones that have power, too. Only two in ten thousand actually have it."
"What do the rest of them do then if they don't go to school?"
"I don't know yet. It's on my list of questions to ask them. I wanted to ask you about Mates... Argonna and Darcy conflict me."
"How so?"
"Well, they have Mates... but I don't know if they're really Mates. The way they talk, it seems like they want to mate with several different males. They're always looking at males they haven't seen before, and I even heard them talking about having two males at once. I can also smell their arousal toward me sometimes. I thought maybe it was because they're seventeen and nineteen and just don't know who their real Mate is yet, but they act… sexual toward the males they already have now. I can't understand it."
"I am saddened to say I cannot understand that either, my Young. Svurtr mate for life, that is all I know. Perhaps you should ask them to explain it to you?"
He hung his head. That was the answer he didn't want.
"Alright, I will have to. I was hoping you knew. Talking to them is not easy."
"Perhaps the older female will be easier? Maisie?"
"That was what I had planned. Sometimes I think she fears I will not understand, so she only half-explains things. I ask more questions to find the truth, but it takes much time."
"It might save time if you used your Will to see her thoughts."
"I can do that?"
"You can also use your Will to prevent others from seeing your thoughts. We will practice that first. Sit, be calm, and I will teach you."
"Ah, fer fook's sake." Argonna deflated in the face of Harry's question.
"I need to knoo, Argie. Yer mum n da did their best, but they jus' couldnae tell it straight. I knoo it's pairsonal and private, but ye've groon up with yer own kaind. I'm missin' all the thoosand wee details that fill in the gaps. Help, please."
Argonna flushed dark pink while he talked, but nodded when he stopped. "Alrigh. Two thaings - keep in maind it's a gairl's pairspective an' woon be laike yer own. Saicond thaing, if ye AIVER, an' I mean AIVER tail a saingle, solitry waird aboot AINYTHIN' ye see ta AINYONE, I'll snip yer bollocks off. Clair?"
He nodded.
"Alright thain." She looked up at his eyes, and he did his very best to flit gently from thought to thought as they came up and vanished, and over the course of a few moments, he was able to piece together a more or less complete idea of Argonna's sexuality. What he saw shocked him to his core, but moreso because he felt like he connected with it somehow, and he didn't think he would ever be able to get the sight of what she did under the covers alone at night out of his head.
His body reacted the way they'd told him it would, and it quickly became painful, confined as he was in his jeans.
He broke eye contact immediately, and he could feel heat rushing to his cheeks. He looked up at the ceiling and tried to control his breathing. When he looked back at her, her eyes were locked on his bits.
"Tha's an educaition." He said. Her eyes jerked up to his face and her face turned red as well. He could feel his hearts thumping fast, and he breathed deeply to try to calm himself.
"Ye can say tha' again." She whispered as her eyes fluttered back to his lap briefly.
"Thaink ye, Argie. I thaink I understaind now."
"Whay me?" She asked. She bit her lip afterward, and her eyes begged him to be gentle. "Whay no Darcy?"
An image of her naked body flashed through his mind again and he shoved it away. "Ye're older. Mair coomfterble with yersailf. I thaink Darcy fancies me... even more than ye do. I though' she'd be more awkwaird."
"Well, tha's fair, I s'pose. Sorry if I do fancy ye a bit, Harry, I knoo ye're a might yoong yait. Ye make it quaite easy tho, ye're goin te be a beautiful man."
He raised his eyebrows. "Really? Ye think so?"
"Aye. Poot a wee scruff on yer jaw an' ye'll need ta beat gairls off ye wi' a cudgel."
He blew a breath out heavily. "Must be nice te be nineteen an' know all this crap."
She laughed. "Well, twailve isnae tha' bad. Lairinin' all this crap is half the fun."
He laughed and hugged her, and she wrapped her arms around him as well. "Thanks, Argie. Naiver a waird te anyone."
"Baitter no be! Snippy snip!" She let him go and made scissor motions with her fingers. He grinned back at her.
"I cairtainly woon maintion the hot sauce."
"DAID! Ye're a DAID BAI!" Agronna jumped to her feet and clutched after him, but he was halfway to the back door already.
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore took the philosopher's stone from his desk and licked it. Generally he preferred the sweet tartness of lemon drops, but he was out of them. It had made an already wonderful day of being derided by the Board of Governors even better to come back and realize he'd eaten his last lemon drop on the way out. The cherry flavor of the rock was growing on him though. It was probably the only good thing to come from the previous year's class - the class that Harry Potter was supposed to have shown up for. Where was he? Had he been enrolled at some other school? Had he been hiding in France? Germany? Italy?
He sighed. None of the feelers he'd put out through the ICW had borne any fruit at all. Nobody knew where the boy was. Even his visit to Sirius in Azkaban had been useless. The Black brat had less than no clue where the boy was, and an irritating attitude on top of it. This past year had gone more smoothly, despite more students leaving for school abroad. Thankfully Molly's brood was far too poor to do such a thing. They were one part of the plan that was still in place. All he really needed was for Potter to show up, and he really needed it rather badly. Time grew short. He needed to have the time to assess the boy and try to reverse some of the damage. Guiding him to suicide would take time and careful planning. It was not something that could be accomplished quickly.
The floo flashed to green and Fudge's head appeared in the flames. "Albus!" Fudge stage-whispered, "Did you go visit Sirius Black?"
"Yes, Cornelius. Last week. Why do you ask?"
"He's escaped. He's bloody gone, Albus!"
"Surely you don't think that I -"
'No, of course not!"
"Then what is the problem?"
Fudge sighed. "The bloody problem is that you, Bagnold and Crouch put the bastard in prison without a trial! Scion of the bloody House of Black in prison with no trial! We have to find him and silence him, Albus! Immediately! The purebloods will have my head and yours on a plate otherwise!"
Albus fought the urge to close the grate and watch Fudge's head roll across his floor. Histrionic milquetoast.
"Yes, alright, what do you want from me?"
"I've stationed Dementors around the grounds of Hogwarts, he's headed there. I'm just letting you know. They're ordered to kiss Black on sight."
Albus felt another headache coming on.
"And you thought it was a good idea to station how many Dementors with orders to kiss on sight around a school?"
"Ah... oh. There're a hundred or so."
"Make sure you have them in hand, Cornelius. I will point the blame directly at you."
"Yes, well... Good day, Albus." Fudge's head disappeared and the green flames died. it was no wonder Britain was the whipping boy of the magical world with idiots like him in charge.
To make his day ever so much sweeter, the train was delayed by forty-five minutes.. The train was never delayed. He wandered down to the Front Hall when he realized it was late, and paced about while his instincts told him Fudge had probably murdered most of his students with his perfectly rational and well-advised placement of Dementors.
When the train did finally arrive, instead of an orderly procession into the castle, Poppy Pomfrey and the Heads of House all Apparated to Hogsmeade immediately. He sighed, and wandered back to his office as he thought of possible excuses to give and who was the most likely scapegoat.
Minerva walked into his office a half hour later.
"Trouble on the train?" He asked.
"Six students being treated for Dementor exposure and ten more transfers to Beauxbatons." At least the casualty list was low, and no-one died. Death was difficult to explain away.
"No reassurances worked?"
"I'd expect some very nasty letters if I were you."
"I see... Thank you for letting me know, Minerva."
She left again, and the feeling of being anxious with nothing to do returned.
'Fudged already', he thought bitterly. 'The makings of another stellar year'.
Harry finished dressing in his jeans and pullover and brushed his hair, then tied it back. He made sure it covered his now very-faded scar. Maise and Fergus had said anyone who saw it would be able to identify him, same as they had done, so he made sure to keep it covered. He dropped two steps at a time and took a seat on the sofa next to Maisie, who sat in her favorite chair at the far end of the sofa.
"Where we goon?" He asked. All day yesterday, Maise had steadfastly refused to say. All she'd told him was that it wasn't a shopping trip and they'd be going once a week for the next ten months.
"We're goon te see my fraind Lady MacMillan. I've agreed to tutor her yoongest fer saivral hours weekly, and she agreed te let ye coom along. Her bai is yer age, he's at Hogwairts fer three years so far. Ye're as caught up an' prepared as I can make ye, an' ye should hae noo trouble taisting into yer yeargroup. That's why when these ten moonths are gone I'll be raigisterin' ye te go next year. I'll raigister ye as Duncan MacFusty, an' that's te save yer peace an' quiet. All sorts o' dark an' evil bastards be wantin' te kill Harry Pottarrh."
"What? Evil people want te kill me? Why?!" His eyes went wide in surprise.
"When ye were jes' a wee bairn, a dairty bastard fancied 'imself Dark Lord show up at yer house an' killed yer Ma an' Da. 'E tried a murder ye as wail, but fer some reason ye jes' dinnae die. Instaid, Dark and Dairty did. It were 'is Killin' Cairse wha' give ye yer scar - leastwise tha's the tale. I werenae there, o' course. 'E 'ad a band o' evil murdery rapey gits, called 'emsailves Daith Eaters. They're the ones want te hairt ye, on account ye kilt their head git."
"Oh. I guess I did woonder a bit wha 'appened te me fairst Ma an' Da. I think I knew it had te be bad, as I ended up a loong drive from noowhair. Makes me... angry, noo I know. No fit te ragin', but..."
She reached out and put her hand on his with a squeeze and a smile. "Ye've always got yer Mother, an' us too Harry. Nae matter whair ye goo nor who ye become. I knoo my gairls loov ye like a brother. Who knows, ye may even find some frainds te call yer new family."
"Add to, ye mean. Dinnae think I'll ever forget ye." He managed a small smile in return. "Me fairst Ma an' Da - it feels like unfinished baisiness. Like I should be prepairin' for war."
"Maybe ye should, son. We'll nae know til we hear the drums an' pipes. Until then, maybe ye can lairn some about yer family legacy. Who the Pottarrhs were and whair ye come from."
"I'd love te. How?"
"Well... it so happens Lady MacMillan has an extainsive library, and whain she learned ye wair studyin' up fer te go te Hogwairts, she offered te let ye come read while I'm tutorin'."
"Fer true?"
"Aye. Remaimber wha' I taught ye aboot fancy manners an' such, ye can practice tha' on the Lady when ye meet her."
His smile grew to spread across his face. "I will, Maisie. Thank ye."
She flashed the boy a grin in return. "Are ye raidy?"
He bounced to his feet. "Daifinitely!"
Maisie stood and held out her hand to him, so he put his hand in hers. He had the sensation of being squeezed through an impossibly small hole, and suddenly they were standing in front of a modest Manor House. It was three floors, the first was stone, the second dark brown wood, and the third white plaster with dark brown wood accents. He immediately identified it as Tudor style, thanks to Maisie's books on architecture.
There was a POP! sound just in front of them, and a small being appeared. It had large floppy ears, big, bright blue eyes, and very thin limbs with oversized hands and feet. He could tell just from looking at it that it had power draped around it like a cloak, but no power of its own. He found that very strange.
"Welcome Miss Maisie, and Mister Du -" Its eyes went wide as it turned to look at him and it stopped talking. Its mouth simply hung open as it gawped at him.
"Good Marning," He said to it with a bow, "I'm Duncan MacFusty, might I have the plaisure o' yer name?"
It blinked, then disappeared with a POP!
"Well, tha's a migh' odd." Maisie frowned.
A woman about Maisie's age came out of the house then and walked down the path to meet them. Maisie smiled and waved as she came.
The woman stepped right up to Maise and gave her a quick hug. "Welcome, welcome. Thank you so much for coming, Ainsley's being difficult - she's at that age, as you know - and Demetria just couldn't handle her, the poor old dear."
"Nonsainse, it's me plaisure o' course. We'll get yer gairl sairted. Lady MacMillan, it's my plaisure to aintroduce the newest maimber of the MacFustys, this is Duncan, he'll be attaindin' Hogwairts next Septaimber."
"A pleasure to meet you, young Duncan MacFusty. You are welcome to our home. " The Lady held out her hand toward him, and he cradled her hand gently in his and bowed low over it, but didn't actually kiss her knuckles, as that would be too familiar for a first meeting.
The way she pronounced her words was different from anything he'd heard before. Fergus and Maisie had said they were not a noble family, but Lady MacMillan was a noble, so perhaps it was a class difference in speech? The Lady clearly wasn't offended by Maisie's non-noble speech, but then Maisie had said that they were already friends. None of Maisie's etiquette lessons had touched on speech or pronunciation, so rather than risk seeming overly familiar straight away, he decided to play it safe and use noble speech.
"A great pleasure to meet you, Lady MacMillan. You have my deepest thanks for your most generous welcome."
Lady Macmillan chuckled warmly and her eyes danced when he finished his greeting and released her hand. Maisie looked at him like he'd somehow grown a second head all at once.
"Oh I like you, young man. Very well done. Please, come inside both of you." She smiled at them and led the way into the house.
Harry stopped just inside the doorway to marvel at the interior. The MacFusty residence was built solidly, and they had acquired some decorations they were proud of over time, but the MacMillan House was like entering a different world. The walls were faint pastel colours and decorated with frescoes, paintings, and carved bas reliefs. Several statue busts sat atop pedestals about the room, and the floor was some kind of delicate white stone inlaid with different coloured stone.
"Wow." He whispered.
"Thank you, Mister MacFusty. I am rather fond of the foyer, despite its intent being to impress."
"Ah, Duncan if you please, Great Lady."
She laughed again. "Great Lady! Oh he is a keeper, Maisie. My name is Moira, Duncan, and I'm not overly concerned with manners, even though yours are quite up to snuff. Brin!" She called out.
The little humanoid popped into existence next to her. "Brin is here Mistress." It said in a small voice.
"Please take Duncan to the library." She told it, then turned to him. "Brin will show you to the library, please make yourself at home and call for her if you need anything."
Harry bowed. "Thank you, Lady Moira."
She smiled and nodded back to him, then went up the staircase with Maisie. Maisie turned to look at him with an odd expression as she followed Lady MacMillan up the stairs. Brin hovered just out of his reach and wrung her hands while motioning for him to follow her, so he did.
The rest of the house was much the same as the foyer, but more warm and made of a greater percentage of wood. Brin led him through two hallways and opened a set of double doors for him, and it was his turn to gawp. Dozens and dozens of bookshelves lined the walls. Free-standing ones made three aisles in the middle of the room, and there were two sofas in the far corners as well as table and chairs.
"This is great!" He grinned at Brin. "Thanks! Is there a section on runes and enchanting?"
Brin nodded, then snapped her fingers. An entire bookcase on the wall to his left began to glow dimly.
"Brilliant! Can I ask you some questions, Brin? Would you mind?"
Brin hopped nervously from foot to foot. "The great Harry Pott- "
"Ah, Brin?" He interrupted her. "Please don't call me that. You can call me Duncan, or Hidden Colours if you prefer. I have learned only today that there are some bad people trying to find Harry Potter, so I would prefer it if nobody used that name."
She bobbed her head up and down as she nodded. "Brin understands, Great Duncan Sir. How may Brin be helping Great Duncan Sir?"
Harry chuckled. "Well I'm only thirteen Brin, so I don't know about all that Great Sir malarkey. I actually wanted to ask about you. I have never met anyone like you before. What do your people call yourselves?"
She perked up a bit then. "Brin is being a House Elf, Sir."
"It isn't rude of me to ask about you, is it? I'll stop if it is."
"Oh no, Great Duncan Sir! Brin is happy to answer! Nobody ever asks about Brin."
"Good, good. Okay, but if I ever do ask something rude, tell me please. I don't want to offend you. My next question is about your power. I can see you wrapped in it, but you don't have any of your own, and I don't understand."
"Great Duncan Sir doesn't want to offend Brin?!" Her eyes grew wide, then she sighed and nodded. "House Elves has no power of our own, that's true. If we doesn't bond to a family or witch or wizard, House Elves can does nothing, and we dies. We can live if we find a place with some natural magic, but not many of those left now."
"So you're bound to the MacMillans?"
Brin nodded. "Brin's parents too. They both died, killed by nastybad dark wizards."
"Death Eaters?"
Brin nodded.
"They're the ones who want to find me and kill me. Can I trust you to tell no-one about who I am?"
Brin nodded again. "Brin tells no-one, except Mistress if Mistress asks directly."
"Thank you Brin, that's fine. I wouldn't ask you to get in trouble. So you serve because you're bound to?"
"Oh no, Great Duncan Sir! House Elves serve The Code. The Bond gives House Elves life and power. The Code say payment bes due. House Elves serve because House Elves can only serve."
"So you serve because your station demands service? Like knights to a king?"
Brin cocked her head to the side as she considered that. "If bond to wizards be like knight oaths to king, then yes." She nodded.
"I see. What happens if you bond to a nastybad dark wizard?"
Brin's bottom lip stuck out and her eyes went glassy. "That bes the saddest thing ever, Great Duncan Sir. House Elves still bes bonded. Still serve, no matter how nastybad wizards be. Nastybad wizards better than deads."
"Hm. Isn't there a way for House Elves to move to a better family? Trade a bad bond for a good one?"
She shook her head. "No, Sir. Bond is bond. Only way to form bond is if no bond made. Only wizard or witch can break bond and free House Elves."
"What does the bad wizard have to do to free a bonded House Elf?"
"For freeing House Elves, wizards must present House Elf with clothes."
"Any kind of clothing, or does it have to be some special suit?"
"Any kind of clothing. A hat, a sock, a glove, anything."
"Oh. Okay... if I bond a House Elf years from now and I want my bonded to wear clothes so they look good, how would I accomplish that if I can't give them the clothes I want them to wear?"
Brin scrunched her face up as she thought about it, then brightened as she thought of the answer. "House Elves be good at making, Great Duncan Sir. Just showing pictures of what House Elves should be wearing and asking House Elf to make and wear."
Harry grinned. "Fantastic, that's -"
Brin's eyes twitched upward and she vanished with a POP!
He guessed when Mistress called, Brin answered. He shrugged to himself, and pulled several of the enchanting books from the shelf and sat down to read.
He carried the slain deer over one shoulder as he climbed the spire to Mother's nest. He knew it had already bled all down him, he could feel it soak his jeans as he climbed. It didn't matter, he knew he could just clean himself later. Just like every other section, the Household section of Lady MacMillan's library had been a wealth of information and useful spells. He had particularly enjoyed the section on proper Gentlemanly etiquette. He hadn't looked forward to attending Hogwarts without knowing how pinkskins conducted themselves in polite company. Maisie had explained after they'd returned home about the differences between her speech and Lady MacMillan's, but even though it was only a regional difference, he opted to continue speaking like Lady MacMillan. It just felt right.
Mother was still asleep when he entered the nest, so he was careful and quiet to avoid disturbing her. Unfortunately, that left him sitting against the far side of the nest while he waited for her to wake. He was excited to show her the gift he'd made her, and he wanted to gush about all the magic and manners he'd learned. Maisie said he was ready to join the other pinkskins his own age at Hogwarts, but before he could do so he would have to take some tests next month before his birthday. A couple of the books in Lady MacMillan's library had said that he was the last of the Potter line, and had showed part of his family tree. Thanks to that, he knew his first mother and father's names, and that was worth the reading just by itself.
He'd also read about the war with Voldemort and the atrocities that could be laid at his feet and those of his followers. He understood the will to conquer, but what they had done was not conquer or cull the weak. What they had done was run rampant, insane. Among the Svurtr, he'd have been cast out by Blocks-the-Moon and immediately torn apart by the entire Conclave.
That had led him to two things he could not understand about the pinkskins - could not understand and made him ashamed to be one. The first was that most of them were so filled with fear that they did not defend themselves. He had seen sheep and rabbits that froze before predators, but he had thought pinkskins were a predator species. The realization that they were only predators when prey was easy disgusted him. The second thing he'd discovered had disgusted him so much he nearly lost his stomach. He read that Voldemort's followers liked to rape. He'd had to ask Brin to show him the dictionary in order to look the word up.
He was sorry he had.
Even wolves - the only other predators he could think of that only hunted in packs - never did such horrifying things, let alone to each other. Pinkskins were disgusting things -or, at the very least they could be. The book had tried to say without actually saying that Voldemort and his followers were mad, so he preferred to think that they were mad and their behaviour did not apply to normal pinkskins. He hated to think his potential mate could be like that. The knowledge had left a residual tension inside him that he could not relax.
"Welcome home, Hidden Colours." Mother's voice roused him from his reverie and made him smile.
"Thank you Mother. I brought breakfast and a gift."
"You remain so kind, my Young. How are your studies?"
"I will be tested in fifteen or sixteen sunrises, but Maisie thinks I am ready and will have no difficulty. I hope she is right. She has been taking me to her friend's nest when she goes there, and her friend - Lady MacMillan - lets me read her collection of knowledge when we visit. I have learned so much it's amazing. Watch."
He held his hand out to the deer he'd brought her and whispered "Wingardium Leviosa", then "Diffindo". The deer floated into the air in front of her, then split down the middle and its innards fell onto the nest floor in front of her. He whispered "Gemino" next, and the pile of innards doubled. He set the deer down toward the front of the nest where it was colder.
"It seems the pinkskins can do a great many things with their power." She said, her eyeridges raised.
"Definitely, and that's just the smallest part. They can also craft things to use power independently. I have been attempting such, and made you a gift." He fished Mother's gift out of his pocket and showed it to her. It was just a galleon, and Mother had thousands of them in her hoard.
"It looks like just another hoardpiece, doesn't it?"
"Yes, but I can feel the power in it."
He pointed out the runes he'd carved on it. "Just by gouging different symbols and touching them with my power, I made it so this hoardpiece will make your whole hoard warm, all the time. No more getting cold and waking up to breathe on it. No more snow."
He took the galleon and shoved it forearm-deep into Mother's hoard.
She waited a moment, her head cocked to one side, and then nuzzled him. "I can feel it working." She said. "I am thankful for your thoughtful gift, my Young."
"The pinkskins have so many ways to use their power, it almost makes up for their power being so weak. Some of them are so smart they come up with ways to compensate for being weak. it's really impressive."
"Admirable, indeed."
"Unfortunately, that's only some of the pinkskins. I also learned that most of them are just weak and frightened prey. That made me sad and kind of disgusted. They're also prone to disease and going mad. It made me very upset to be a pinkskin."
"What is it that upset you so?"
He sighed. "Even when they're not mad, they only sometimes have Mates. Most of them will mate with another pinkskin they find acceptable, even though they're not a good match. Worse, they can then just decide they no longer want to be mates and just go start mating with someone else. That's normal for pinkskins."
"How revolting." Mother blew flame from her nostrils as though to clear a stench.
"Exactly!" He agreed, "Then when they do go mad, they cast aside all mates, and go forcibly mate with others who already have mates, just because they want to hurt them."
Mother belched a nauseated green flame. "Oh that's disgusting."
"Yes, that was my feeling. I nearly lost my stomach when I read about that."
"There is no reason to think you will be like that, is there, Hidden Colours?"
"Well... no, I don't think so. I don't think I could ever act in such a way."
She nodded. "Nor I. That being so, resolve to destroy such mad ones. If pinkskins can be afflicted so, surely the affliction can be purged."
He brightened some at that. "I will do what I can, Mother. I am still learning how to fly in their Drive, but purging such an affliction is something I had not considered. I will give it more thought."
"Do so, my Young. You are bright and worthy, and you will make every last pinkskin notice you. Just do not forget to come visit your Mother when you can. I am proud of you."
"Thank you Mother. I will do my best to keep making you proud."
Harry nuzzled Mother for a moment, and left the nest feeling better than he had when he arrived.
Argie and Darcy held one of his hands each, while Fergus trooped ahead and Maisie walked behind them. He was the tallest of the five of them and had been since January of the previous year. He thought it was kind of ridiculous that the soon-to-be-fourteen-year-old, youngest of the bunch by nearly five years, was also the largest. It made him a little uncomfortable as well that Argie and Darcy holding his hands made him more comfortable.
He found the way the buildings were built unsettling, like a huge wall of shops and apartments that denied one access to the rest of the world. He found the whole place cramped, and the sheer number of other people wandering about Diagon made him anxious.
"Ye remaimber wha' te ask fer?" Maisie asked behind him.
"Aye." He answered.
"Well, jus' try an' relax an' be yersailf, lad. Goblins like a fair respaict, same as any."
They stopped outside a large white building that dominated one end of the alley. Goblins in armor, carrying sharp-looking weapons stood to either side of the propped-open double doors.
"I'll do my best, Maisie." He hugged Darcy and Argie and Maisie. His hands felt clammy.
"Dinnae goo doon thaire, tha's Knoctairn Alley. Stay up 'ere where it's bright. We'll noo leave ye, so wander aboot when yer doon an' we'll fine each other." Fergus pointed out Knockturn Alley, then shook his clammy hand.
Harry nodded back to him. "Aye, will do."
He squared his shoulders, and strode past Fergus, past the Goblin guards, and into the bank called Gringott's. The lobby was long and richly appointed, with two high counters, on either side of him, and a separate counter at the far end. Most of the Goblins behind the counters had customers waiting for them, so he joined the shortest queue and waited patiently.
When the lady in front of him had completed her transaction and left, the Goblin finally turned his eyes to Harry, so Harry bowed.
"Good afternoon, sir. If I may ask, how might I request a heredity test?"
The Goblin looked at him over top of its spectacles. "You just did. Follow Threadchoke to a testing room." He spoke to another Goblin standing nearby in a language he didn't understand, and the other Goblin - Threadchoke he presumed - led him down a hallway behind the counter.
"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Threadchoke sir." He said conversationally.
Threadchoke grunted and opened a door halfway down the hall, then shooed him inside and shut the door behind him.
The only things in the room were a desk and two chairs. One was a fancy chair behind the part of the desk all the drawers faced, so he sat in the other, nondescript chair. Another Goblin entered the room after a few minutes, so Harry stood and bowed to this one too.
"Good afternoon, sir." He said.
The Goblin stopped and looked at him. "Well. Just when you think." He mumbled, then seated himself in the fancy chair behind the desk and pulled a square of cloth out of the drawer, as well as a transparent crystal half-oval with a hole in the center. He placed the crystal on top of the cloth and set them in the center of the desk. "Are you one that knows your name and is hoping to get lucky, or one that doesn't know your name?" The Goblin peered at him intently.
Harry considered it before he answered. "I know my first name, but my second name is who I am, really. My third name is the one I'm using for now because I'm told my first name is being hunted by people who want to kill me. I want to prove I am who I think I am, and my third family tells me I have money here that belongs to me, though honestly I'm not sure what good it is."
The Goblin's lips pressed thin, and his ears straightened up. Harry hoped it was a smile.
"That is not an explanation I've heard before. Congratulations."
Harry did his best imitation of the Goblin's smile. It was difficult to control his ears.
"Just place your finger inside the crystal. The crystal will draw some blood and link to our genealogy matrix, then print the relevant history."
Harry nodded and put his finger in the hole in the crystal. "It might have some trouble getting through my skin." He said.
He sat with his finger in the crystal for a minute while the crystal turned different colours and then finally went black, and he could feel his blood being drawn.
"Hmph." The Goblin grunted. "Never seen that before either."
The crystal removed itself from his finger and began to shuttle itself around the piece of cloth, which expanded as it did so. Larger and larger the square of cloth grew as the information was printed. When the crystal finally stopped moving, it was ten minutes later and the cloth covered the desk, Harry's lap, and a good portion of the floor.
The Goblin took one look at the final name the crystal had printed, and growled like rocks grinding together - or he might have been swearing, for all Harry knew.
"Ragnok's golden eartufts!" He cried, and pushed a large red button on his side of the desk.
"What? What is it?" Harry asked.
"You're Harry Potter!" The Goblin told him.
"Yes, but I'd really like it if that stayed a secret so I don't get killed?"
"Have no fear, Mister Potter. Gringott's has the highest level of discretion. No-one will learn your identity from this institution."
"Alright, thank you. It's nice to know there are some people I can trust."
Another Goblin opened the door then. "Get Kneescythe in here immediately!" The Goblin behind the desk barked.
The new Goblin went away again.
"Kneescythe is your Accounts Manager, Mister Potter. He will have a great many things to discuss with you."
"Oh." Harry's hopes fell. "I don't... this is the first time I've ever been in a bank. I've never had money or used money, and I certainly don't understand money. Am I going to have to learn a lot of things in order to know what he's talking about?"
"For the love of Stone... Yes, Mister Potter, that is very likely. I'll inform Kneescythe when he arrives. He will likely take you back to his office for the discussion."
"Do you think he maybe has some books on money I could read over the next while?"
"That is a possibility, Mister Pot-"
The door opened and another Goblin immediately grated and grumbled at the one behind the desk. The one behind the desk grated and grumbled back, and Kneescythe's eyes widened and he turned to Harry.
"My apologies, Mister Potter. Please come this way, I'll show you to my office for our very long-overdue discussion."
Harry stood and bowed again to the Goblin behind the desk. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name, Mister...?"
"Ripjoint. A pleasure to meet you, Mister Potter."
"You too, Mister Ripjoint."
Harry followed Kneescythe down two more corridors before entering his office. It was not richly appointed, but it did have several pictures of other Goblins, framed certificates, and much more comfortable furniture. There was even a carved horn of some kind that had umbrellas in it.
Kneescythe sat in his chair behind his desk and began pulling file folders and ledgers from different drawers.
"I'd like to apologize in advance, Mister Kneescythe, I know this is going to be frustrating for you because I have no idea about money or even about being Harry Potter, really."
"Well then if you don't mind me asking, Mister Potter, where have you been? Who have you been? Have you never received a single owl we sent you?"
"Owl? You have owls as your representatives? I don't speak Owl." Harry frowned. So strange.
"Ah, no... Owls carry messages for us, Mister Potter. And parcels."
"Oh. No, I've never gotten any message or parcel from anyone ever."
"I see." Kneescythe pushed a button on his desk and gravelled something at a small black plate bolted to the corner of his desk. A short reply came from the plate, and he turned back to Harry. "It's possible someone has diverted your mail. We will look into it."
"Someone is stealing my mail?" He was surprised more than anything that such a thing was even possible, let alone that someone would actually stoop to doing it. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. What if someone had sent him letters? What if some of his family were trying to reach him the only way they could and someone had kept those letters, and now his family thought he didn't want anything to do with them?
"Rest assured, Mister Potter, we will get to the bottom of the problem and then rectify it with extreme diligence."
He liked the sound of that. Extreme diligence sounded angry and righteous and violent at the same time. "Alright, thank you. I'll trust you with it." He nodded to Kneescythe. He looked at Kneescythe looking at him, and remembered he'd asked more than one question. "As for where I've been... I was raised in the Hebrides by Swims-in-Stars of the Svurtr. I am Hidden Colours of the Svurtr. I have lived with Maisie and Fergus MacFusty for the last three... almost four years, while I learned to be a pinkskin - a human."
"I see. Why are you only here now if you have been a human for almost four years?"
"I am Declared. I speak, I breathe, I fly, I hunt. I have no need of money except as a hoard to sleep upon. Maisie is a registered tutor with something called the Ministry, and has tutored me in all the things I should know before I join my year at Hogwarts. I have only just learned I need to purchase things in order to go to Hogwarts."
"You fly?" Kneescythe's ears swivelled sideways.
"If you have no objections to me touching my power in your Territory, I could show you."
Kneescythe pulled a few objects from the drawers of his desk and set them on the desk. "Please," He said as he put his elbows on the desk and leaned forward, "Go ahead."
Harry nodded and touched his power, now ever at his talontips - fingertips, he corrected himself - and wrapped himself in it. He rose gently and gracefully into the air while Kneescythe's ears nearly flattened to his skull. The small metal things Kneescythe had placed on his desk immediately melted into tiny puddles of slag, starting with the one on Harry's right and proceeding down the line of them in the order Kneescythe had placed them. Harry returned to sitting in the chair and released his hold on his power. "I did not have wings as a child, so Mother taught me to fly using only my power."
"Meaning you have wings now?" Kneescythe's voice was tremulous and small.
He felt heat blossom in his ears and cheeks. "I can change... when I need to." He was not anxious to admit to destroying part of the MacFusty residence by accident, even if they had fixed it good as new.
"You are... a most unusual Wizard, Mister Potter." He completely ignored the cooling bits of molten metal on his desk. Kneescythe took a deep breath then and let it out. "Right, to business. My apologies if I offered offense with my questions, Mister Potter."
Harry shook his head. "No, not at all. Like I said to Mister Ripjoint, it's nice to be able to trust someone. He assured me none of what I say and none of what you know will ever reach beyond Gringott's."
"He was absolutely correct. You are one of our most important clients, Mister Potter, and discretion is guaranteed. Now, are you familiar with the concept of money?"
"Yes, it was explained as barter by token, wherein the token has an agreed-upon, specified value."
Kneescythe pressed his lips flat and lifted his ears. "Good! Yes, perfectly correct. The standard for Magical Britain is the Galleon. Seventeen Sickles to the Galleon, twenty-nine Knuts to the Sickle."
"Four hundred ninety-three Knuts makes a Galleon. Got that part."
"Well there's not much more to it, Mister Potter. Where are you having difficulty?"
"I know money buys things. I know the basics of currency. What I don't know is how much - if any - that I have, and I don't know how much things cost. Will I be able to afford to go to Hogwarts?"
Pressed lips and lifted ears again. "Yes, Mister Potter, you will be able to go to Hogwarts." He clicked his fingers together, and a book appeared on his desk in front of him. He opened it and turned it around to face Harry. "Here, the first column details debits from your vault - money taken out for interest fees, purchases you have made, all that kind of thing."
Harry nodded.
"The second column details deposits to your vault - money added from interest payments, income from investments, or payments from people who owe you money. Still follow?"
He nodded again. "Yes."
"Good, now the balance available at the bottom is the total of the starting balance for the month - what was left in the vault at the end of last month - minus any debits, plus any deposits. The available balance is there at the bottom of the page."
It was easy to see once Kneescythe had pointed it out, and the Arithmancy of it made a great deal of sense.
"Is twenty thousand a lot?" He asked his Account Manager.
More pressed lips, lifted ears. "Your tuition to Hogwarts has been paid since before your birth, Mister Potter, so you don't have to worry about the cost of being allowed to go. Your school books, wand, robes, and other sundry costs associated with attending Hogwarts usually amounts to less than a hundred galleons. Furthermore, this vault is your Trust vault, which is refilled every year on your birthday from your main Ancestral vaults - of which there are three. So to answer your question, twenty thousand is plenty, as long as you don't spend it foolishly. It does have to last you all year."
Everything he'd need for his year at school would cost a hundred ? Yeah, twenty thousand was a lot. "Wow. Okay... What's the difference between a Trust vault and the other ones?"
"Sometimes young people make very poor decisions regarding money. By only giving you access to a certain amount, your parents prevented you from spending foolishly with the entire family's resources. Your Ancestral vaults fall under your control when you come of age, or take up the Lord's mantle, whichever comes first."
"What's a Lord's mantle?" Harry frowned.
"Your family is a Most Ancient and Most Noble House, Mister Potter. You have hereditary seats on the Wizengamot, and when you reach your age of majority, you will be entitled to put on the Lord's ring and vote on law and policy in the Wizengamot. To take your place as a Lord of magical Britain. The mantle of Lord is the responsibilities and privileges that accompany being a Lord."
"Wow. That's..." Harry slumped in his chair at the thought of such a depressing future.
"A lot to take in, I understand." Kneescythe nodded. "Thankfully, you have a number of years yet before you're required to become a Lord. Any questions or concerns you have I will be happy to address with you, and hopefully we can ease you into it."
"Thank you, Kneescythe. I appreciate that. I look forward to working with you."
"And I you, Mister Potter. To address your immediate needs, the first thing we should do is make you a new key. Since you have never had possession of your previous key, it would be wise to invalidate it rather than risk someone accessing your vault in your name."
"Yes, please. I don't like the idea that someone else has my key."
Kneescythe nodded and pulled two halves of a mold out of his desk, both made of the same transparent crystal he'd seen in Ripjoint's office. He placed the bottom half on the desk in front of Harry.
"Insert your finger, if you would Mister Potter."
Harry did so, and Kneescythe put the top half of the mold overtop and pressed down until the two halves of the mold met. There was a click sound, and they stuck together. Kneescythe let go and relaxed in his chair while the crystal started its journey through the rainbow just like Ripjoint's had. As before, when the crystal turned black, he felt it drawing blood. He wasn't sure exactly how it did that, since Ripjoint's hadn't left any kind of mark behind. When the sucking sensation of his blood being taken ended, the mold cycled through silver, then gold, and finally ended up a bright silver-white colour that was metallic and very shiny.
Another click sounded, and the mold halves separated. Kneescythe took the key from inside - the same bright white shiny metal the mold had been - and handed it to Harry.
"It is the only one, Mister Potter, make sure it stays safe. Now, one more short item of business." He pulled a carved oak box the size of a loaf of bread out of the bottom drawer of his desk and put it on the desk in front of Harry. It had a beautifully carved, ornate crest on the lid. "Go ahead and open it, Mister Potter. It belongs to you, after all."
Harry reached out and lifted the lid of the box. Three rings sat in a row in the box, a large, thick, square one on the far left, a smaller, more delicate version of that one next to it, and then a small, thick oval version on the right. All of them were gold with a single huge ruby, and the same crest embossed upon the face of the ruby in gold.
"Wow, these are beautiful. You said these belong to me?"
"The one on your right does, for now. The one on the left is the Lord's Ring, next to that The Lady's ring. The oval one is the Heir's Ring. Since you are the Heir, you can put that one on now."
Harry took the oval ring and picked it up out of the box, as passages from several of Lady MacMillan's proper etiquette books flashed through his mind. "Is there a specific finger it goes on?"
Kneescythe shook his head. "Your father wore that one on the smallest finger of his right hand. His father wore it on the first finger of his left hand."
Harry slipped the ring on the last finger of his left hand. It seemed like it would be as out of the way as possible there. The ring grew warm, and shrunk to fit his finger perfectly. Then the metal of the band turned a deep, lustrous black and became textured with tiny interlocking plates. The Ruby changed color to a deep, vibrant green, and the gold crest on top stayed gold.
"Wow, I like that even more!" Harry exclaimed, "That's beautiful!"
Then the ring disappeared.
"Where did it go?" He asked, wide-eyed. He hoped Kneescythe didn't think he'd broken it.
Kneescythe pressed his lips and lifted his ears. "Relax, Heir Potter. It's a security feature. The ring's default state is invisible while it is worn. It will become visible when you will it to do so."
"Oh. That's great!" Harry concentrated on making the ring visible, and it appeared on his finger. He stopped, and it disappeared. He smiled back at Kneescythe, careful to not show his teeth.
"We shall visit your trust vault now, and you can withdraw however much you think you'll need for your school term. If I'm not mistaken, I believe Hogwarts recesses over Christmas. Why don't we make an appointment to meet and go over whatever has arisen between now and then?" Kneescythe said.
"That sounds like a great idea, thanks."
"After we find out what's happening with your mail, I'll send you a message to suggest a time and date."
"Thank you, Manager Kneescythe. I have to admit I was very nervous when I arrived here at Gringott's, but everyone has been very nice and very helpful, and I appreciate that very much."
"I am gratified that our service has been acceptable, Heir Potter. If you'll follow me, we'll head down to your Trust vault."
Harry quite enjoyed the cart ride down to the vault, though he did think it would be so much faster and easier to simply fly. Kneescythe held out his hand to Harry when they arrived at his Trust vault, and after a second he realized he wanted the key. He handed it over, then Kneescythe inserted it and opened his vault. He handed the key back to him.
"That's the only key to your vault, Heir Potter, please don't lose it."
"I'll do my best." The sight of the huge hoard of galleons in his vault made him want to crawl on top of it and have a nap.
It was even bigger than Mother's hoard. He supposed Mother could buy quite a bit if she ever chose to... but then what would she sleep on?
Harry moved to take some of the galleons, and stopped. There was no way a thousand would fit in his jeans pockets.
"Ahem." Kneescythe cleared his throat and held out a small bag to him. "Bottomless and featherlight, Heir Potter. Compliments of Gringott's."
"Umm... thanks. What's bottomless and featherlight mean?"
"The bag has been enchanted with internal expansion charms to hold a very great deal more than it's exterior would indicate, and further charmed to weigh no more than it does when empty, no matter how much is in it."
"Oh. That's brilliant!" Harry grinned. "I only just recently found out such things were possible, I can't wait to learn how it's done. Thanks so much!"
Pressed lips and lifted ears. "Our pleasure, Heir Potter."
Harry threw a thousand galleons into the pouch and grinned the whole way back to the lobby as he swung the little pouch around. When they got out of the cart, Harry stuffed the pouch into his pocket and shook Kneescythe's hand. "Thank you again, Manager Kneescythe. You've been great, just great. I look forward to your message and visiting over Christmas."
"Thank you, Heir Potter, I look forward to our business future together." Kneescythe bowed slightly, and Harry returned it, though perhaps deeper than it needed to be. Kneescythe returned to his office, and Harry exited the bank into Diagon proper.
The MacFustys were browsing books in Flourish and Blott's when he caught up to them.
"Soo, hoo'd it goo?" Darcy asked.
"It was great!" Harry smiled. "Everyone was very nice, and very helpful. I have an awful lot to learn, but my Account Manager Kneescythe is going to help me learn it all properly. I'll have an appointment with him come Christmas. Apparently someone is intercepting my mail too, since I've never gotten anything from them before, and they're going to see about fixing that."
"Who would steal yer mail?" Argie frowned.
"Well, seein' e's' oo 'e is, I'd wager whoaiver it is dinnae mean good."
"Aye, an' tha's enoof on tha' topic." Fergus shut the conversation down. "Let's 'ave yer list thain, we'll break it oop an' gaither yer bukes right quick."
Harry went still and looked each of them in the eye. "I... thank you. All of you. Without you I'd probably be trying to build a nest out of rocks somewhere out of the wind."
Darcy giggled. "Nonsainse. Ye're a good bai Dunc, an' we're just as chuffed t'ave ye as ye're te be 'ad."
"Me darlin' daughter's three drams in quite like, but she's nae wrong. Nae matter wha' else 'appens, ye've a place wi' us, Duncan." Fergus squeezed his shoulder as Darcy slapped Fergus's.
Harry smiled his thanks and pulled out his list of required items. Maisie took it from his hands and handed out hunting targets like a general. It took less than two minutes before all his required books were assembled at the counter. As he had plenty of money, he also snuck in a few extra runes books and some intermediate enchanting. Then he saw books on healing, charms, wandlore, and he just had to clench his hands and walk away or he'd end up buying far too much. He already knew that Hogwarts had the largest library in Britain, so he told himself repeatedly he could spend every moment there learning. He didn't need to buy the books.
His fingers still itched to get more books when they left the bookshop, but he managed to keep it under control. He forgot all about it when they entered Madam Malkin's to get his robes. Argonna and Darcy seemed bent on making him model every piece of clothing, including his boxers, but Maisie nixed that. She and Fergus had taught him what was appropriate and inappropriate in mixed company so he understood, but when it came to being naturally embarrassed by nudity, he simply wasn't. He hadn't worn a stitch until four years ago.
He knew the girls were playing with him and trying to get him to blush, but he found it endearing more than anything. It made him feel warm inside to know they were playing a game that simply wouldn't work outside the players involved. He hoped they never stopped, even when he brought his Mate home to meet them. Whoever she may be.
The rest of the family had visited Mister Ollivander before and were not particularly taken aback by the man, but Harry found him to be less than forthcoming. He had a puttering, patient, understated way about him that was somewhat mollifying, but Harry could see his eyes were calculating, sizing him up, searching his brain for who he might be.
"Willow, twelve inches, Unicorn tail hair. On the whippy side." He stated as he presented a wand to Harry. Harry gripped it, and he could feel the wand tug at his power as it attempted to focus it and provide an outlet. It seemed... weak.
"Give it a swoosh, Mister MacFusty." Ollivander suggested. Harry waved the wand, but nothing at all happened. Was it supposed to?
"Hm." Ollivander frowned. More calculations. He pulled another box and presented him another wand. "Holly, eleven and a half inches, Phoenix tail feather. Supple."
Harry swooshed that one too, and it felt... weak.
"No... I thought for sure." Ollivander frowned. "Are you using any of your magic?" He asked.
"Was I supposed to?" Harry asked in return.
"It shouldn't matter, but give it a try just in case."
Harry channeled a little bit of power through the wand as he whispered "Lumos", and the wand burst into blue-white flame and disintegrated instantly.
"Hm. Apparently not." Ollivander said with raised eyebrows.
"Er, sorry." Harry apologized. "I'll pay of course..."
"No no, think nothing of it, Mister MacFusty. Let's try something else."
Maisie and Fergus shared a look while Darcy and Argonna stared at the dusting of ash on the floor that had been a wand.
Ollivander puttered around in the far back of his shop and brought forth another wand, this one black with a carved grip. "Ebony, twelve and a half inches, dragon heart string, firm." He said as he presented it.
"What kind of dragon?" Harry asked him sharply as he glared into the man's eyes.
"Ah, Norwegian Ridgeback, if I recall. As well, I assure you Mister MacFusty, all dragon heart strings in my shop are harvested from dragons who have died of natural causes."
The man thought Harry was upset because of a dead dragon. If a wizard could kill a dragon, then he deserved to win. That was the way of things. Harry simply gave the wand back to Mister Ollivander.
"Ridgebacks are not very intelligent. Do you have anything with Black heartstring?"
Ollivander looked at him for a moment. More calculations.
"I believe I do." He went into the back of the shop again. He returned with another box, this one rather dusty. He took the wand out of the box and held it out to Harry, handle first. "Yew, ten inches, Black dragon heartstring, pliable."
Harry gripped the carved, off-white handle, and felt a surge of recognition from the wand. He poured the tiniest trickle of power into the wand, and felt agreement through the power. "Lumos." He said, and the tip of the wand lit up enough to make the deepest corners in the back of the shop visible. Using the wand gave him a strange sense of echo in his power, but the wand was a requirement for school, so he resolved to just deal with it. "Nox."
"Ah. Excellent." Mister Ollivander smiled.
"Thank you Mister Ollivander." Harry said.
"My pleasure, Mister MacFusty. That'll be seven galleons."
Harry smiled and paid the man, and tried to pay for the one he'd destroyed, but Mister Ollivander wouldn't hear of it. "Part of the wandmaker's business." He said, and flatly refused Harry's additional galleons.
All in all it was a pleasant day spent in Diagon Alley - finished with ice cream, of course. The best part of the whole day in Harry's opinion was his new trunk. When the sales lady showed him trunks with multiple compartments and shrinking and enlarging runes on them, he giggled with glee and bought one that could shrink enough to fit in his front pocket and had four separate compartments. It was like having an entire nest in your pocket! He put all his purchases for the day inside it before they left the trunk shop, then shrank it and put it in his pocket.
Harry grinned the entire way home.