Archive of Our Own ^beta

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This was not okay. Nope. Not in the slightest. They want him to fight dragons?!? Are they insane?! Yes, of course he has seen one. Hell, he snuck one out of the castle his first year! But an adult?

What even were the 'consequences' of not competing in the tournament anyway? Dumbledore implied it was losing one's magic, or something along those lines. At the very least, not competing isn't deadly - competing most certainly is. He's only a fourth year!

In fact. That was it. Harry wasn't competing. He still had a few days to figure things out. In fact, Hogsmeade weekend started tomorrow and he could go to the village then to see about options. At the very least, he could go to Diagon Alley and withdraw money from his vault to run away with.

So he does.  ---------------------

Unsurprisingly, it was easy to get some floo powder and go through the fireplace without anyone noticing while he wore his invisibility cloak. Even while carrying all the belongings he owned (pitifully few). Diagon Alley was far less crowded without the back-to-school shoppers crowding it - so getting to Gringotts wasn't a hassle either.

Inside the bank was a different story. Harry managed to attract a bank teller while invisible in order to get a discrete room easily enough. Once in the room, Harry had to admit to not having his key on him, and was nearly thrown out before his cloak fell off and the goblins recognized him as Harry Potter.

He was questioned extensively on why he was at the bank in the middle of November without his key until he was tricked into admitting that he was planning to leave wizarding Britain. Once Harry had admitted the truth, the goblins were far friendlier. The haste with which they acquired documentation, plane tickets, housing, and a school ('because most muggles get worried about children left alone') left Harry dizzy. Within four hours of arriving at the bank, Harry left with all the documents he would need to start a new, muggle life, and instructions on how to get to the airport tomorrow in order to catch his Sunday afternoon flight.

Looking through his papers that evening, Harry would have many flights Sunday evening, as well as a few more on Tuesday. So long as he wasn't in the First Task on Thursday, Harry would be in the clear and likely considered magicless by the wizarding community at large (which was still possible).

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To avoid losing his nerve, Harry avoided Hermione the next day (except for breakfast, where he asked for her address and a lesson on how to write a letter - suspicious? Maybe, but Hermione didn't say anything). Before he left Hogwarts, Harry also made sure to tell Cedric about the dragons. Just because he was leaving didn't mean that he was willing to leave Cedric without life saving information that Durmstrang and Beauxbaton already had. 

With his affairs (essentially) settled (Hermione had a letter explaining that Hedwig would deliver that evening - and Ron was still being a prat), Harry left Hogwarts for (likely) the very last time.

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Invisibility cloaks are truly a godsend. Leaving Hogsmeade and flooing to Diagon Alley would never be easier for a Hogwarts student. In fact, Harry was surprised that he never heard any stories involving his father sneaking away using the invisibility cloak, it seemed like a great way to secretly acquire pranking materials.

Catching a cab to take him to the Heathrow airport was almost as easy, once he had left the Leaky Cauldron he only needed to walk five minutes to get on the Circle Line train and start his journey to the airport. The hour was plenty enough time to question his course of action, but ultimately life without magic and the Dursleys won out over life with magic and high possibility of dying within 6 months.

Not that he hadn’t had a high possibility of dying before, it was just that this time he could do something about it without endangering anyone other than himself. Hermione might be sad, but she had retained a friendship with Ron and thus wouldn’t be left friendless.

Airport security was simple, he practically walked through the checkpoint, which left him waiting nearly an hour before his flight - a worrying amount of time, during which he might be missed.

While waiting to board Harry looked through his new papers. His new name was now Harris White, secret son of a recently deceased British heiress - to explain his money. He was travelling to start boarding school in the US after being kicked out of Smeltings Academy - a detail which greatly amused Harry.

Before boarding, Harry bought several books for his flights. He’d begin by flying to Tel Aviv, then France, and afterwards sleep on the plane to Montreal. The next day Harry would fly to Mexico, then board a plane to his final destination, Malibu, California. He wasn’t sure how well he’d do in Muggle education, having been without for three years at this point, but without magic Harry would be a muggle, so he’d need the knowledge regardless.

With that in mind, and several books in hand, Harry boarded his flight.

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Two hours into his flight, Harry discovered that the novelty of flying had well and truly worn off. The noise of the engines made reading difficult, and Harry had long surpassed his tolerance for continuous reading at any rate. When he arrived at Tel Aviv, he promised himself, he would most definitely buy some sort of puzzle game for the flight to France.

Once the remaining three hours of monotonous flight were completed, Harry was more than happy to escape the plane. Border control was more stringent here - he had to show the border patrol his new passport and then he was shuffled off to a side room for a ‘random security check.’

Harry followed the officier to a side room containing a clearly obvious member of the wizarding world. The man cast a spell on the officier and instructed him to return to normal duty before closing the door behind him and offering Harry a place to sit.

“I’m Agent Alterman of the Israel Wizarding Theocracy, what is your business in Israel?” the man said.

“I’m just passing through, I have a connecting flight.” Harry supplied, wishing to get this over with.

Agent Alterman looked at Harry, and his forehead.

“Mr. Potter,” he began, clearly suspicious, “shouldn’t you be in school right now? The Triwizard Tournament has been all over the international papers.” Harry shifted, and the agent continued, “You are highly recognizable with that scar - any wizard researching spellcraft would know it, it’s not everyday someone holds claim over surviving the killing curse.” 

Agent Alterman paused, then concluded, “I’ll be informing the British wizarding government of your location so that they can come collect you.” He then left the room, presumably to send a message to the UK, leaving Harry spiralling into panic.

Harry quickly came to two conclusions. One, he should leave the room before the agent returned. Luckily he still had his invisibility cloak on him, so he could easily sneak out. Two, he needed to cover up his scar.

Then Harry startled onto a third conclusion: He needed to find out how the border patrol guard recognized that he was magical. If the wizarding world was watching the border here, they were likely patrolling other airports.

First things first, Harry gathered the documents the border patrol guard had left on the table and then hid under his cloak. The door back to the main airport was helpfully unlocked, but right as he finished opening the door, he heard Agent Alterman re enter the room and mutter “chara” under his breath.

The agent then proceeded to send a message asking for the ritual instructions to track a wand with the Trace on it. Harry went cold. His wand, the muggle security guard probably had a compulsion charm that made him bring wizards with wands going through security into this room. He needed to get rid of it before doing anything else.

Harry slowly brought out his wand, careful not to make any sounds. When a return message appeared with the ritual instructions for Agent Alterman, Harry quickly placed his wand under the chair the agent had made him sit in. Hopefully the man would leave the room long enough for Harry to escape once he found the wand.

The ritual itself was very simple. Agent Alterman simply muttered a few words and then something only the agent could see appeared, from the way he focused on something Harry couldn’t see. Whatever it was, it was very effective and this time the agent cursed loudly when he discovered Harry’s wand. 

As planned, the agent left through the magical side’s doors again and Harry made his escape under the cloak, already trying to figure out a way to hide his scar.

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The airport was a confusing jumble, and far more difficult to navigate while watching out for travellers who might bump into an invisible Harry. Luckily, the duty free store was up ahead, with most travellers shuffling past through the main aisle - leaving plenty of empty store aisles for Harry to take a break in.

Harry had nearly an hour left before his flight to Paris boarded and he didn’t think his chances for getting through the crowd under invisibility cloak was very good. He had been insanely lucky to even get this far without someone accidentally bumping into him or pulling off his invisibility cloak. 

Luckily, the duty free stores contained quite a few items. Harry was hoping to find a hat somewhere to cover up his scar. He was wandering through the perfume aisle to get to the clothing section when he overheard a conversation between two women and a sales clerk:

“I think you should buy the foundation, you don’t want your dad to see your bruise. He might never let you go travelling with me again!”

“Alright Roxie! How much for the foundation?”

“That will be $40 miss”

Harry checked the prices on goods nearby. Everything was listed in USD rather than the local currency (whatever it was) and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t even thought about currency differences yet, but he knew that the goblins had transferred the majority of the physical money they gave him into dollars.

He was about to move on to the clothing section when he revisited what he heard the ladies say. Foundation could cover up bruises - and he vaguely remembered Aunt Petunia also using foundation to cover up blemishes on her face. Perhaps it could also hide his scar?

Mind make up, Harry folded up his cloak and went up to the sales clerk to ask her for her opinion on what foundation he should buy to cover up his scar. The scar’s eternal redness worked in his favour when he explained his choice to buy foundation as a way to make sure his mother wouldn’t notice when he arrived home. The sales clerk gave him a resigned ‘boys will be boys’ sigh before explaining to him how to test foundations to choose the right colour for his skin.

With his newly acquired foundation, Harry used a mirror to neatly hide away his scar. He still went to the clothing section - he was wearing his nicest set of clothing, and while most of the people in the airport were wearing loose clothing, he knew his baggy clothes still pushed the margin of acceptable. Plus, the less he looked like he did in the interrogation room, the less likely it was Agent Alterman would find him.

Luckily, the agent never looked at his papers before recognizing him, so he didn’t know what name Harry was travelling under. After buying new clothes that would (at the very least) fit him better, Harry went to the nearest restroom to change and then find his gate.

Once safely on the plane to France, Harry finally relaxed a little. He then decided to look a bit more into his new documents - he had only looked at the very basics of his paperwork, and while it hadn’t been a trouble so far, Harry knew his luck wouldn’t last.

Upon seeing the very first paper, Harry groaned. Of course there was an instruction sheet on how to fit in! The very first line even contained instructions to buy makeup to cover up his scar!

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The five hour flight to Paris contained many revelations for Harry. He hadn’t checked what the goblins had given him at the bank, which he was starting to realize was a very stupid move. He found financial sheets for a brand new muggle bank account containing a vast amount of wealth. More wealth than Harry had thought. Not that he knew how much his vault originally contained or what it was worth. 

Upon checking his extendable bag Harry realised that yes, the amount of currency inside was relatively little. There was only $2,000. Harry remembered his uncle talking to Dudley about how three British pounds were worth two American dollars, complaining about how the rising value of the American dollar was making Grunning’s plans for expansion overseas more difficult.

Harry also found the will of Lady Catherine White, his recently deceased mother - and the (supposed) reason he had begun acting out at Smeltings. The will listed several English properties and determined his caretaker as Greg Hook - the family butler, whom Harry was certain actually referred to Griphook.

The most important document by far was the instructions sheet. It started with a list of items for Harry to buy in order to blend in with other travellers, such as: luggage bags (Harry had to admit carry just an extendable pouch was different compared to other travellers that carried backpacks and rolling suitcases), concealer (obvious now in hindsight), nice clothing (to look the part of a young British lord), and new glasses (his current ones were distinctive, and the goblins thought his prescription was wrong anyways). 

The sheet also included instructions to reach Gringotts branches at each of the airports Harry would land in to check for further instructions about details such as who would pick him up in Malibu, times for doctor appointments, and the salary Harry would be paying Gringotts to maintain the identity of Greg Hook.

Harry hadn’t even realised how much work went into forming his new identity, and found himself impressed with how through the goblins had been. He also realised how stupid he been for not checking over these details while he was in Gringotts in the first place - the goblins could have robbed him blind! 

Harry could only reason that the goblins had overestimated how alert he’d be for deception. He had gone from ditching one magical contract (that he hadn’t entered!) straight to leaping into a different sort of contract with no regard for the fine print. Harry could only study the documents now - and form questions to ask the Parisian branch of Gringotts during his three hour overlay.

The overlay was insanely busy - Harry left the airport and took a 30 minute cab to the entrance of magical Paris, where he quickly picked up his new documents and left a list of questions he wanted answered at the Montreal branch. 

He then stopped in at an optometrist to grab a new pair of glasses. They had many pairs pre-filled with prescriptions, mostly reading glasses, but Harry managed to find a pair that let him see even better than his current ones.

He had another cab start taking him back to the airport before he saw a clothing store and realised that he still needed new clothes and some luggage bags. Forty-five minutes later, Harry had a grey, felt backpack and a black rolling suitcase filled with ten sets of new clothes (which Harry hoped would be enough) and a pair of scissors to cut the tags off.

Harry returned to the airport with thirty minutes to spare before his plane boarded. Once in the air, he quickly fell asleep, exhausted by his internal clock telling him it was nearly 3am.

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The arrival at Montreal airport was far less stressful. For one, Montreal’s Gringotts branch had a magical entrance right outside the airport, drastically reducing travel time. For another, it was nearly 6am in Montreal and Harry’s flight to Mexico City wouldn’t be for another four hours.

Harry decided to sit down at one of the restaurants for breakfast before going to Gringotts - a time which he also used to finish finalising his questions over his new documents from the Paris branch.

Harry then spent the next two hours in Montreal’s Gringotts branch, this time taking the time to look over the answers to his questions, read his newest documents, and ask some questions about the new documents. He was right about Griphook being the contact point for Greg Hook, and was told to send any letters he had for Gringotts to the same name and address. They would not, he was warned, cosign any loans if he got himself into trouble. 

Much like with Hogwarts, Harry’s new boarding school was also prepaid. The goblins had used the money set up in his muggle bank account to send the money to his new school, Everdine Preparatory - a school for the wealthy children of families living in Malibu, Los Angeles, and around the world. An expensive school which somehow made barely a dent in Harry’s finances. Harry asked for a summary of his Gringotts account over the past twenty years.

He then spent thirty minutes wandering the older sections of Montreal. He found a shoe store, where he bought new trainers, a pair of hiking boots, and a set of dress shoes. He changed into his new trainers and tossed the old ones before using Gringotts’ side entrance to return to the airport.

The flight to Mexico City was a boring six hours. Harry managed to finish one of his new books, then decided to peer into some of the magazines offered on the rack in front of him. The tabloid showed a young, 23 year old billionaire named Tony Stark entering a cab with a gaggle of women. The accompanying article quickly had him blushing, so he stuck with some of the safer newspapers off to the side.

Once in Mexico City Harry only had two hours before his next flight, so he simply picked up his latest paperwork and returned to the airport. His new papers held his pick-up details at the airport - an administrator named Charlotte Higgs, a list of doctors appointments he had scheduled over the next month - Harry hadn’t even realised how many different types there were, and his promised account details.

This flight was much shorter than all the others, and Harry had barely made a dent into his account details - he might have to pay for an interpretation of it all.

Without any checked-in luggage, Harry simply left the baggage reclaim area and exited into the airport proper. He quickly found Mrs. Higgs holding a sign with his new name, ‘Harris White,’ and followed her to a car.

It was already 7pm in California, and due to worries about Harry suffering jet lag, Mrs. Higgs told him that he wouldn’t be expected at class tomorrow, but would be expected to attend on Wednesday. She also handed him another stack of paperwork including school and dorm rules, his class schedule, and maps of the area.

At the school she gave him his room key, guided him and his luggage to his dorm, and bade him good night before going off. Harry then entered his new room.

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Harry woke up fairly early according to his room clock, about 6am in the morning. He hadn’t done much the night before - too exhausted to read his new papers, so he was glad to have the day off. 

It was still dark out, so Harry decided to unpack his luggage and move in properly first. Once his meagre belongings were unpacked, Harry started to hear the people in the other rooms begin to wake up. 

He read through his paperwork during this period and when people in the halls started chatting with each other - awake enough to face the day - Harry exited his room to greet them.

“Hello.” he said, to the curiosity of the four boys currently in the hallway.

“Huh,” the nearest one said, dumbfounded. It had been sheer chance that no one had been in the hallways when Harry had arrived.

The furthest spoke up, “I’m John Quincy, they’re Adam Ryder, George Hart, and Boney Smith.”

“I’m Harris White,” Harry replied, before turning to look at the boy introduced as Boney. “Boney?” he asked.

“It’s because I’m a model for my father’s fashion business during the summer. I have to watch what I eat - like a girl,” he sulked. “My actual name is Malhoney - but no one calls me that except the teachers, to differentiate me from the other Smith,” he explained.

Harry just nodded and they all paused for a beat.

“Guess we’re going to class then, do you need any help finding your classes?” George asked.

“No, I have the day off due to jet lag - so I can try to find my classrooms on my own.”

“The cafeteria for breakfast then?”

Harry found himself nodding to that and was then guided to the dorm’s cafeteria before the boys raced off to get to their classes.

As Harry got breakfast, he thought that the meeting could have gone better - but at least the rest of them seemed as awkward as he had been.

He then spent the rest of the day walking around campus and trying to orient himself to the map - a much easier task than in Hogwarts where stairs moved and corridors changed often. The layout was blessedly simple, two classroom buildings, one for lower years and one for upper years, a gymnasium, a library, and of course, the dorm building where Harry was staying. 

Around noon Harry decided that he had familiarised himself enough with the campus and went to attend the rest of the classes on his schedule. Needless to say, he left the classes greatly confused. 

Biology was a horror - cells? Harry vaguely remembered such a thing in primary school, but most of his days back then were spent planning how to leave the classroom in a manner that wouldn’t attract Dudley or his goon’s attention.

English was much the same - and Harry realized that some words were spelt differently in America compared to the UK. Luckily, the class was working on reading a Shakespeare play - Romeo and Juliet - so the teacher told him that she would work on catching him up to the class during after-school hours. She’d give him more details tomorrow.

His last class was gym - by far the easiest. Even though he didn’t remember most of the exercises, he could still figure them out rather easily by watching the other students in his class.

It was very odd in a way. The underlying antagonism between houses didn’t exist like it did in Hogwarts - in fact, there was no house system, similar to primary school.

Student’s reactions to him were different as well. Still some curiosity towards the new student, but none of the polarizing reactions that had plagued Harry all his life. 

It was like, without magic, life had lost its frenzied excitement and returned to a steady pace. For once, Harry found that the steadiness relaxed him, unlike returning to the Dursleys.

Regardless, Harry was going to have to do a lot of catching up - and from what he heard from his new teachers today, Harry would be completing a lot of assessments on Wednesday.  

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Wednesday was a full day. Unlike Hogwarts, where students might have only three or four of their classes in one day, Everdine forced its students to attend all their classes everyday.

Harry’s lack of muggle education since the end of primary school quickly proved difficult. The teachers couldn’t properly assess his ability because of how far behind he was, and it took plenty of time to figure out just how far.

This, of course, brought suspicion. Harry, as far as they could tell at the moment, didn’t have any learning disabilities - so he shouldn’t have been so far behind. Harry couldn’t tell if that was an oversight in his new background, or if the goblins thought he had been keeping up with his muggle studies.

Regardless, Harry wasn’t planning to tell the Everdine faculty anything. He was certain that they would form their own conclusions, and in the meantime they had told Harry to continue following his schedule while they gathered tutors to help bring him up to speed. Harry had also informed them of the doctors appointments the goblins had scheduled, since he’d need rides to and from the city to reach them.

After leaving the adults to sort out his schooling, Harry returned to the dorms and was set upon by John, Adam, George, and Boney. They invited him to join their Uno game and have dinner with them, so Harry put away his school bag and followed them to the cafeteria. 

There were far more students eating there this time. Nearly fifty from what Harry could tell.

“So, which classes do you have?” George asked him.

“Uh,” Harry checked his schedule, “European History, Geometry, Spanish I, Accounting Basic, Biology, English I, and last of all, Gym. I don’t really understand why I have Accounting.”

“So you skipped a grade or two then?” Adam asked shyly.

“Not as far as I know. Grade 9 is typical for a 14 year old isn’t it?” 

“No way!” Boney exclaimed. “You’re even smaller than me!”

“Yeah, I thought you were 12, maybe 13” George added.

John and Adam affirmed their conclusions and Harry flushed red in embarrassment. He hadn’t realized he was that small! And he knew that his birthday was the same in his new documents - something else the Everdine staff probably had questions about.

After the teasing about Harry’s height, the boys quickly ate dinner and then introduced Harry to Uno. The game quickly turned into nearly twenty before they were chased off back to their rooms for the night. Harry bid the boys ‘good night’ and settled in for the night.

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Harry woke up Thursday morning quickly. His right leg and his left side suddenly burned and he screamed for nearly a minute before falling back - unconscious once more, but breathing heavily.

The building’s hall monitor, a relatively elderly man named Jeremy Clements, reached Harry’s room, less than a minute after he finished screaming, to find a sizable crowd of boys knocking on Harry’s door, grumbling about being woken up.

Mr. Clements, fished out his master key and opened the door. A smell like cooked meat wafted through and he yelled for one of the boys to call 911. There wasn’t an obvious source of fire in the room - but the new boy, Harry he reminded himself, hadn’t moved from the bed once despite the ruckus outside his door.

Thinking it might have been a prank, he pulled back the sheets to see the tell-tale signs of burns on Harry’s chest and his right calf - his pajamas were melted. After checking that he was still breathing, Mr. Clements moved back outside and directed the boys to summon an ambulance and had one go out to get the night nurse while they waited.

Once Harry was moved, his room and the school grounds were searched extensively for whatever could have caused Harry’s injuries - but ultimately nothing was found. His window and door were locked at the time of the incident, so the likelihood of a second person in the room was thrown out - the case eventually dismissed as a freak incident.

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Hogwarts, Sunday early afternoon

Harry had been acting strange all weekend. Hermione wanted to respect her friend’s space - but she couldn’t understand why he wasn’t taking the tournament more seriously. The first task was Thursday for goodness sake! 

She understood letting him blow off his Saturday, but not his Sunday as well. Harry wouldn’t have enough time between classes to work on anything! Well, technically as a Champion he was exempt, but there was no way Hermione would be complicit in Harry committing truancy - even if it was sanctioned (the horror!).

Harry had avoided her at breakfast, quickly losing her in the Hogsmeade crowd. She huffed up and down the town’s streets searching for him until Ron came up on her.

“Boo” he exclaimed, making her yelp and jump away from him.

“Ron!” she bit back, before recollecting herself, “Have you seen Harry? I wanted to work on spells for the tournament with him.”

“I don’t know why you bother with him anyways,” Ron sulked, “it’s obvious he was lying about not entering the tournament.”

Hermione sighed and said, “If you spot him, please tell me. I haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

Ron huffed, but agreed before going to rejoin his roommates and enjoy the last of his Hogsmeade weekend.

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Ministry, Sunday afternoon

The Department of International Correspondence and Travel did not often get much correspondence or visitors. In fact, to accommodate the Quidditch World Cup, international travel responsibilities was shifted to the Auror department in order to have enough people to cope. With the Triwizard Tournament also occurring, the Ministry hadn’t seen fit to move the department out of the Auror department until the next summer.

This is why Agent Alterman was surprised to find himself portkeyed directly into the Auror department (before internally beaming at the brightest patch of luck he’d had in over an hour - the Department of Int.’s offices were far removed from the main ministry departments).

This was hardly the first time Alterman had come to Britain - but in the past he had always accompanied a British wizard who had smuggled in illegal goods. He went directly to the receptionist’s desk to report the movement of a wizarding minor travelling through Tel Aviv - careful not to give any names (something that would have seemed more normal if the minor in question was any other individual on the planet).

The receptionist guided him to Auror Proudfoot - who was in charge of international cases. They had worked together before, but only in the limited capacity of criminal handoffs.

“Fancy seeing you here!” Proudfoot told him, mirth in his eyes. Alterman hated to ruin it, obviously Proudfoot thought he was here on friendly terms versus official business.

After casting Muffliato, Alterman blurted out, “Harry Potter was in the Tel Aviv airport today.”

Proudfoot raised an eyebrow, “And where is he now?”

“I don’t know, he ran off from the interrogation room about an hour ago. The tracking spell didn’t work at all.”

Both Proudfoot’s eyebrows rose at this. “The Trace tracking spell?”

“Yes! That khara qatann ditched his wand in the interrogation chamber before leaving.” He sighed, “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

Proudfoot rolled back, scratched a note down, then retrieved an owl to send a message before returning to his desk.

“Alright, while we wait for Hogwarts to get back to us on whether he’s in, how about you tell me what happened?”

Alterman nodded, “Well, his wand set off the runes above the muggle security checkpoint of course. I got the alert at my desk and then one of the muggle officers brought him to the interrogation room. I asked the standard questions - what are you doing? Why are you here? Once I actually looked at him I clocked the scar and put two and two together.” He started huffing in irritation, “I only left the room for a minute to ask International Travel to start putting together a portkey, but by the time I returned that khara qatann was gone in the wind! What kind of wizard leaves his wand?!”

Proudfoot finished writing down his report. Then proceeded to interrogate Agent Alterman over his interaction with Harry Potter as they waited for Hogwarts to send a return owl.

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Hogwarts, Sunday evening

By the time dinner rolled around, Hermione still hadn’t found Harry anywhere. When she tried to attract Ron’s attention, he merely rolled his eyes at her over her franticness. She glared, but returned to her food.

In the middle of the meal, two owls entered the hall. The first was Hedwig, who dropped off Harry’s letter to Hermione before proceeding to eat her food. Barely a minute later, a nondescript ministry owl soared in and gave Headmaster Dumbledore a letter. Hermione and Dumbledore read their letters, jerked up their heads, and began rapidly searching the Gryffindor table for one Harry Potter.

Hermione tried to leave the Hall early, but received a note from Headmaster Dumbledore instructing her to ask Deputy Headmistress McGonagall for the password and meet him at his office. Dumbledore, meanwhile, wrote a reply to Auror Proudfoot and opened the Hogwarts floo to prepare for his arrival. When Hermione arrives, her and Dumbledore pour over Harry’s letter - trying to discover clues. 

A good half an hour later, Proudfoot and Alterman stumble into Dumbledore’s office.

“Gentlemen, what has been discovered?” Dumbledore inquired gently. 

Alterman bristled at the demanding undertones in his voice, but Proudfoot was more than happy to launch into a presentation on their findings thus far.

“Harry left his wand behind?!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Who is this young lady again?” Alterman inquired.

Hermione was left without a reply, but Dumbledore introduced her, “She is Harry Potter’s best friend. She received a goodbye note through his owl during dinner just before you contacted me.”

Alterman relaxed marginally, “So then we can track his owl when it returns to him.”

Hermione shook her head, then pointed out a location on the note where he told her that he was gifting Hedwig to her. “He wouldn’t have gifted me Hedwig unless he was going somewhere far away enough that owl post wouldn’t work.”

The three wizards gave her strange looks, then Proudfoot explained, “The owls teleport long distances once they reach a certain speed. There shouldn’t be a problem with using owl post to send letters anywhere.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, embarrassed. “Well Harry wouldn’t know either, he’s muggle raised like I am.” Then she brightened, “Doesn’t that mean you can still track him through owl post?”

Proudfoot and Alterman groaned in unison. 

“Potter is a famous individual,” Proudfoot explained, “he has tight mailing wards - they’ll block spell trackers to keep people from finding him. The only thing that could relax them would be his owl - which now isn’t his.” Proudfoot groaned again before concluding, “Luckily, if he wants to keep those wards he’ll need them reapplied by the end of his seventeenth birthday. Unluckily, we need to find him by Thursday.”

The four of them frowned.

“Do you have any idea where Potter would go, miss?” Alterman asked.

Hermione shook her head no, and was then shuffled off to bed for the evening.

Dumbledore, Proudfoot, and Alterman continued to discuss plans of action for the search the next day for another hour. Proudfoot and Alterman were offered accommodation for the night, but Proudfoot needed to finish up some paperwork and Alterman needed to check in at his home office.

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Hogwarts, Monday morning

Snape hadn’t been prepared to be ambushed that morning, especially about Potter. But here he was, barely sat down for breakfast and ambushed by the Headmaster on his knowledge of the whereabouts of one Harry Potter.

“You do realise that’s not how my Vow works, right?” Snape snarked. “I don’t know his location, and if he’s hiding, surely there are better means?”

Dumbledore stared blankly at him. “I had an auror come by yesterday telling me Harry was in Tel Aviv yesterday afternoon.”

Snape rolled his eyes. “So he took an unapproved trip out of the country. I’m sure he’s returned - or will be back by the First Task.”

“The muggle way, Severus.” Dumbledore pressed on, imploring Snape to understand his concern.

They were interrupted by a sudden shout at the Gryffindor table. “HE’S WHAT?!”

The crowd rose in volume - trying to figure out what the outburst was about. Dumbledore shuffled off to talk to the heads of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. Snape was left to his lonesome, trying to wrap his mind around the idea of Harry Potter running away.

It wasn’t like Snape was unaware of his prejudice towards Potter. But whenever Potter was in sight, blinders came on until he was gone. But he didn’t want him gone. He had Lily’s eyes - and sometimes, in this madhouse of a school, even while spewing vitriol about Potter Sr, seeing Potter’s eyes were the only good part of his day. He needed better coping mechanisms.

The day itself was a haze - he taught classes and searched for potions that could possibly trace Potter’s location. He was well aware that he wouldn’t have the time to create a potion that could track him by scratch before the First Task.

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Hogwarts, Monday 

Alterman and Proudfoot spent their first day on the case trying to track Harry’s path before boarding the plane to Tel Aviv. Some of the agents in Tel Aviv were trying to discover how Harry had left the airport - but he wasn’t seen on any of the Muggle’s surveillance cameras and nothing had triggered magically. Hopefully, Harry’s path in Britain had clues to where he had gone next.

The two searched Harry’s dorm for anything he had left behind - nothing that wasn’t provided by Hogwarts itself. They interrogated his roommates - they were feuding because they believed Harry had discovered a way to enter the tournament and had hidden it from them. They added investigating the Goblet of Fire to their after report to-do list.

They also tried to discover who Harry was still talking to when he had left - only to discover that he had spoken to only a handful of students outside of lessons ever since his name was pulled from the Goblet.

The first was Hermione Granger, the girl they had met last night. Outside of the note Harry had left her, she had known nothing of his plans. Her only indication that something was wrong, outside of the note, was that he had been avoiding her all weekend. “He disappeared in Hogsmeade on Saturday. I last saw him at breakfast on Sunday morning - he asked me for my muggle address, which was a little strange. He might send me a letter that way?”

The second was Neville Longbottom, heir to the Longbottom title (“His grandmother is an absolute shrew.” Proudfoot told Alterman). They mostly discussed plants together, Neville helping Harry with Herbology and Harry helping him into Gryffindor tower when he forgot the password. “Harry’s a lot smarter than he acts - I think he’s scared to let people know how smart he is, especially Hermione. She’s terrifying when she thinks she’s right, especially when you know she’s wrong.”

The Weasley Twins. “Ron and him used to be best friends…” “... but they haven’t talked since the Champion selection.”

“Ways to sneak out of the castle? We gave him a map last year.”

“I think Professor Lupin confiscated it last year. It showed all sorts of secret passages.” 

“He wasn’t allowed out of the castle - most of the tunnels lead to buildings in Hogsmeade.”

They added Lupin and the Hogsmeade residents to their list of interviews to conduct and moved on.

And finally, Luna Lovegood. Suffice to say, they left more than a little confused.

The interviews took all day, and the two interviewers left feeling like the castle had impeded their efforts. They hadn’t even gotten the chance to talk to the staff - something they shifted to Tuesday afternoon, though they hoped they would find some leads in Hogsmeade. Clearly Harry had gone to the village both Saturday and Sunday - so someone HAD to have spotted him.

Chapter Text

Hogwarts, Tuesday morning

Investigators Proudfoot and Alterman had realised that their investigation wasn’t exactly quiet, but they were still blindsided by the blaring headline of the Daily Prophet when they sat down to eat at breakfast. In fact, all the details of their investigation were splashed on the front page - including Harry passing through Tel Aviv using muggle methods of transportation. 

“Bloody hell! It’s going to be a lot harder to get information about Potter’s movements in Hogsmeade” Proudfoot told Alterman.

“Because of the hero-worshipping?” Alterman guessed.

“That, and they’ll think the kid’s just running away for shits and giggles - that it’s not serious.”

“Khara!”

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Inside Hogwarts, Neville was concerned. Unlike Hermione, who was ecstatic that the news about Harry running away was out, Neville felt more pessimistic about the article. He wouldn’t tell Hermione, but he knew that the article would hurt the chances of finding Harry in time for the tournament more than it would help. The article painted Harry as a narcissist, running away for more attention instead of someone pessimistic about their chances to survive the Triwizard Tournament. Neville understood - he’d probably run away too if he could.

Hermione was talking about milk cartons - some sort of campaign in the United States to bring awareness to missing children. Again, it was silly to think of. Every wizard knew what Harry looked like and where he should be on Thursday. The only thing this article did was make sure that if any wizard found Harry they’d leave him alone because they’d think Harry would return in time for the First Task on his own.

So no, Neville strongly believed this article wouldn’t lead to whatever Found Harry fantasy Hermione was imagining, but then again - it didn’t seem like Harry wanted to come back anyways. And what kind of friend would Neville be if he begrudged him that?

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Proudfoot and Alterman began their investigation with the public floos in Hogsmeade, starting with the Three Broomsticks pub. Madam Rosmerta claimed to have not seen Harry Potter that weekend - but did admit that she seemed to be missing some floo powder from the shelf behind the counter.

At the other pub they tried, the Hog’s Head, the owner laughed at them.

“Does this pub look like it allows students in? Ha!”

The two even tried other, popular student destinations such as Honeydukes and Madam Puddifoot’s, but every resident they questioned claimed to have not seen Potter that weekend.

“How did he get to London then?!” Proudfoot wondered, “It’s a massive village! Someone had to have seen him! The only way he could get to London is by floo!”

“Perhaps we should check the London floos?”

“Well, the only public ones are in the Ministry and the Leaky Cauldron. Someone would have noticed there! He must have gone to a private residence in London.”

“Then, what if he did the same here?” Alterman asked.

Proudfoot groaned, “This is hopeless!” while Agent Alterman guided him away from the village.

“We still have the Hogwarts staff interviews this afternoon don’t we?”

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Hogwarts, Tuesday midday

Severus Snape was surprised to find Auror Proudfoot and Agent Alterman knocking on his office doors shortly after lunch. He was aware that the pair would be conducting staff interviews today, but he hadn’t thought he would be questioned first.

“Come in!” he yelled while supervising his locator potion. It was experimental and the theory behind it was rushed and loose, but Severus had hope. It would hopefully track Potter through his Vow to protect him - something Severus had sarcastically told Dumbledore wouldn’t work, but may be their only hope.

The auror and Israeli agent stepped through the door and gave him concerned looks when they saw the potion brewing.

“We can come back later when you’re finished brewing Professor” Proudfoot began to say when Snape waved him through the door.

“It’ll need another day before it’s finished - it’s an experimental potion that will hopefully track Potter’s location.”

While the potion was simmering the pair questioned Severus on Potter’s habits and recent behaviour, particularly if there were any recent changes. He was sad to say that he hadn’t noted any, and he was probably the worst person to ask.

“Perhaps try his head of house, Minerva McGonagall? I know he also went to Hagrid’s hut for tea fairly often. I’d also try contacting Remus Lupin, I believe Potter bonded with him last year. The Headmaster should have his contact information.”

The two men thanked Severus, then left him steeping both thoughts and the contents of his cauldron.

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Hogwarts, Tuesday evening

Hermione had been excited to discover that Harry’s disappearance had made the wizarding papers. Surely it would only be a matter of hours until he was found! At the very least, wizards would know to inform the Ministry if they saw him. But the evening wore on and her worry was back. 

Harry had asked for her muggle address. What if he left the wizarding world? Looking at the Weasleys, it was clear that even curious wizards like Mr. Weasley didn’t venture out into the muggle world very often.

Plus, from what Hermione could tell, the investigation had moved away from finding out where Harry went. They were asking about what could have led up to Harry’s departure, not which locations he might have fled to. 

That’s why she was in the owlery. She was sending Hedwig with a letter to her parents asking them to put out a lookout for Harry in the muggle news. She even enclosed a photograph of Harry from 2nd year. Hermione had asked Colin Creevey for it, and luckily he had one from before he discovered the potion to develop them into moving pictures. She only hoped that it could be used to find Harry in time for the First Task.

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Auror Proudfoot and Agent Alterman ended the day disappointed with their progress. Most of the teachers didn’t know very much about Potter. In fact, other than the professors recommended by Professor Snape, only one had anything remotely personal to say about him. It didn’t help that Professor Trelawney told them that she had divined the future and Harry Potter would not return to the wizarding world until metal men flew in the sky - whatever that meant. 

Deputy Headmistress McGonagall was largely unhelpful - saying she hadn’t had much time to personally connect or talk with the boy given the number of students she was in charge of. Madam Pomfrey detailed quite a few hospital visits, with an eerie tradition of landing in the Hospital Wing the last week of school every year without fail. Proudfoot was already planning to question her more about those visits in their after-report. 

Hagrid was their most interesting interview - in fact, the two discovered that it was rather easy to get the man to spill quite a few secrets, including him showing Potter and Headmistress Maxime the dragons the champions would have to face in the First Task. Given this occurred right before Potter fled the country, this was likely the reason for him leaving.

Overall, the day’s results weren’t very promising, although they did set up an interview with Remus Lupin for the next day and had another one with Gringotts to discuss the cash flow of Potter’s bank accounts.

Chapter Text

Undisclosed House, Tuesday morning

If you had told Remus Lupin 15 years ago that he would be sitting in a kitchen with Sirius Black - who was making breakfast, he would have laughed at the idea of Sirius making food and asked if the kitchen was burning down. 10 years ago he would have been aghast at the idea of chatting comfortably with the man responsible for the murders of everyone he loved in a single night. Today he was just tired of the man’s manic pacing and muttering.

“Harry should’ve sent a letter back! He always sends one within the day…”

“Sirius! The First Task is soon, he might be too nervous to write to you. Calm down!” he cried just as an owl swooped onto the kitchen table. “Let’s just settle down and read the Prophet Sirius” he sighed.

Luckily for Remus’ sanity, Sirius finally plopped down into a chair and grabbed the Prophet. He then, just as quickly, vaulted out of his chair and raced for the door, shifting as he went.

“Sirius! Get back here you mangy dog!” Remus yelled, chasing him down the street until a kind neighbour finally restrained him. “Thank you miss,” he said, sighing as he lifted Sirius into his arms and carted him back to the house. “Now, what’s got your fur all ruffled?”

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Undisclosed House, Wednesday morning

Remus, of course, had a hard time restraining Sirius from pulling any sudden moves - although he had finally convinced the man to wait until after his interview with the investigators searching for Harry.

Remus brought out a dog leash and collar to put on Sirius, giving an unimpressed look when he whined about the items.

“You know perfectly well that you can’t go to the meeting unless you’re a dog - and dogs can’t go out unrestrained in public. We’ve discussed this Sirius. No collar, no coming.” 

Remus fastened the collar around Sirius’ neck and clipped on the leash before bringing him to the fireplace. He grabbed a fistful of floo powder and cried “Hog’s Head” when the flames burst green at his feet.

Luckily, or perhaps with Sirius’ mood, unluckily, the investigators weren’t in the pub yet, so Remus went and ordered some breakfast at the bar for himself and Padfoot.

When the investigators came in, they introduced themselves as Auror Proudfoot and Agent Alterman of the MKY.

“How close would you say you were to Mr. Potter?”

“Not very, he doesn’t even send me letters.”

“We were informed you may have bonded with the boy last year though?”

“I was friends with his parents before they passed. Most of our interactions were either him asking for stories about them or private lessons on how to cast a patronus. He had a rather nasty reaction to them on the Hogwarts Express last year and after dementors swarmed him during a Quidditch game he asked me to teach him.”

“The patronus is rather advanced. Did he ever succeed?”

“Yes actually, some students were harassing him over his fear of dementors in a later Quidditch match and he managed to cast it on the first try.”

“That’s rather impressive Mr. Lupin” Agent Alterman cocked his head pensively.

“Then you wouldn’t happen to have any idea where he’d run away to?”

“Unfortunately not.” Lupin paused, then asked, “if it’s not too much a bother, may I ask why Agent Alterman is part of the investigation?”

“We were first alerted to Mr. Potter running away because he was caught at the security checkpoint in Tel Aviv, which he escaped by mysterious means - even left his wand.”

“Before you go Mr. Lupin, two boys mentioned that you confiscated a map from Mr. Potter last year?”

“Ah yes, the Marauder’s Map. It was created during my school years as a way to keep track of professors in order to sneak out. I returned it to him at the end of the year. Is there anything else you two would like to know?”

“That’ll be all for now. We’ll contact you if need be.”

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Hogwarts, Wednesday lunch time

It wasn’t hard to tell that something strange was going on, Ginny thought, even before the Prophet had spilled the beans the day before. Luna said they were avoiding a terrible fate, but Luna said a lot of things and Ginny couldn’t believe that Harry staying away was a good thing. 

Last year she couldn’t talk to him without blushing - and this year she was planning to be better than a stumbling little girl. Preferably by showing off her looks at the Yule Ball. She knew she wouldn’t be able to go with him. He probably had a hundred girls looking to go with him, but Neville had asked her and she had said yes. Her mum was even planning to take her shopping this weekend! (Though it probably wouldn’t happen now while they were searching for Harry).

Yes, Ginny thought, biting into her food, Harry really should come back soon.

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Gringotts, Wednesday early afternoon

When Proudfoot and Alterman stepped into Gringotts they could feel the atmosphere shift against them. Despite the hostilities hanging in the air, a bank teller came to them promptly and led them into a private meeting room.

As expected, the goblins were unhelpful at best, and highly threatening at worst. They wouldn’t tell them the private details of Potter’s account, when he last came to the bank, or even which services he had used.

“Is there anything you can tell us?” Proudfoot finally snapped near the end of their visit.

“Only Potter’s magical guardian can be told any of these details - and there is no one listed under that category in his Gringotts’ file.”

“No one? Isn’t that highly unusual?”

“Only if the ministry never informed us of a change in magical guardians after the old ones died.”

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Ministry of Magic, Wednesday afternoon

“Alright, I’ve checked with Batehilda in Records, the goblins were right. Strictly speaking, Harry Potter doesn’t have a magical guardian right now.”

“Then we’ve been breaking protocol by telling Headmaster Dumbledore so much about our investigation.”

“No, he still serves as Potter’s partial guardian since he’s a student at Hogwarts.” 

“That’s a lot of power which your Ministry gives that man.”

“Don’t knock Dumbledore, he’s a good man. Done a lot for the community.”

Alterman merely sighed, then the two began writing up their reports on the investigation for the day.

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Hogwarts, Wednesday evening

Severus stared at the results of his potion in sorrow. He knew it was a long shot - brand new potions rarely work the first time - but now he had to face it. Lily’s son wasn’t returning in time for the First Task unless a miracle happened. Snape had long since stopped believing in miracles. They were something other people got, like Lily - and miracles died with her that day in his opinion. He’d forgotten that when figured out this potential potion.

Unfortunately, Severus was used to some level of abject misery. It worked in the background of his brain and creeped up on long, lonely days. There were many reasons why Severus hated Dumbledore, but he knew that without the annoyance of teaching he would have lost motivation long ago.

Severus Snape shook his head. First he’d have to write to the investigators and the Headmaster, tell them that the potion didn’t work. Then he’d have to tweak the recipe. Potter might not be back for the First Task, but hopefully he’d survive the effects of breaking his contract with the Goblet of Fire. In which case, he’d still need to locate Potter. So long as his Unbreakable Vow held, the potion could be refined until it did work.

Chapter Text

Hogwarts, Thursday morning

Neville woke up early in the morning of the First Task - it had become tradition for him to water his room plants in the wee hours of the morning while his roommates were still asleep. It also gave him a chance to shower and use the loo before the rest of the boys woke up.

Dean, Seamus, and Ron had still been pissed off at Harry the night before. Neville couldn’t blame them - but he thought that Ron of all people ought to know best about Harry’s personality. Yes, his actions often lead Ron and Hermione into trouble - but no, Harry didn’t really like the attention all that much.

From the sounds of things, Dean and Seamus were still riling up Ron, keeping him from thinking clearly about Harry. It didn’t help things that Dean and Seamus believed Harry actually did put his name in. Hopefully the shock of the First Task would set them straight, Neville mused. History books made the tasks seem rather dangerous.

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Hogwarts Grounds, Thursday afternoon

Despite not finding Harry, Proudfoot and Alterman ended up sitting in the stands to watch the First Task unfold. Auror Proudfoot was excited, clearly hoping to see his alma mater win the competition. Agent Alterman was less phased, and a bit worried for the students who would end up facing the dragons. A trained team of dragons trainers usually coordinated to handle a normal dragon, much less a nesting mothers they were bringing into the arena. Tradition , Alterman thought, what a messed up thing .

The actual competition itself was rather boring - or at least as boring as watching three teenagers navigate near-certain death could be. The injuries were fairly minor - some burns on Flear Delacour’s right leg when her dragon snorted fire on her, and Cedric Diggory was caught in the left side - but nothing that couldn’t be fixed near instantaneously by the Hogwarts nurse when they completed their task.

It wasn’t until the moment when Harry Potter was meant to compete that anything truly interesting occurred at all. After the third and final call for Potter Professor Alastor Moody began to shake. Then the man morphed into a man who was decidedly not Professor Alastor Moody. Shouting began almost immediately - Proudfoot and Alterman had to shove through a crowd to get to the Fake Moody. 

Thankfully, it appeared that the Fake Moody could no longer perform magic, and whatever effect caused Fake Moody’s transformation to fail was no longer causing magic to fail to work on him. The capture was anticlimactic, but the interrogation using veritaserum afterward most certainly was not. (Nevermind the fact that a school teacher had some on hand at all times - Great Britain was stranger everytime Alterman visited).

Apparently, Britain’s terrorist problem was not, in fact, over. Disregarding the horrifying civil rights issue shown in Fake Moody (true name: Barty Crouch Jr)’s entire criminal case, jailing, and ‘stay’ with his father, a terrorist leader who does not stay dead was an infinitely horrifying thought. Magical Britain’s quarantine may have recently been lifted, but it appeared that it may have to be extended again until the problem had been properly dealt with - perhaps even ICW intervention would be necessary. Either way - the priority rating of finding Harry Potter was dropped for the foreseeable future.

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Watching the First Task, Ron had a single thought, I’ve been an absolute git. It wasn’t like he didn’t know that Harry hated the attention given him. In fact, Harry could be shyer than Neville if there wasn’t an injustice he was fighting for. The look of relief Harry had when Dumbledore had placed an age line should have clued Ron in that there was no way Harry would dare risk his ‘quiet year.’ And now , he thought sadly, Harry’s gone, who knows where and he’ll probably never write to me again .

Even the dramatic reveal of Professor Moody secretly being a Death Eater didn’t cut into his morose thoughts. It was simple, after all, in the end. Ron would have to apologise to Hermione and hope that she would reveal her way to contact Harry. He needed to apologise, to make sure Harry knew that he was sorry and ready to support him now (even though he hadn’t been a very good friend for the past month).

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Hogwarts, December 20

Proudfoot sat in his office and finished up the last of his paperwork before he got off for Yule. The past had been chaotic. Alterman had returned to Israel, informed the ICW of the return of Voldemort, and Britain had been placed under renewed quarantine. His office had to contend with the unhappy Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students, staff, and families trapped in Britain while they negotiated for their return to their home countries. All but a staff member from each school, the school’s Triwizard Tournament champion, and their families had finally returned home - thus the Auror’s office was plunged into discovering and rooting out Voldemort and the followers he had regained.

He blinked wearily at the last file left before he could go home for the holidays. It was the missing persons file for Harry Potter - untouched since the day of the First Task and the chaos that followed it. Auror Proudfoot simply wrote a small ‘no new clues discovered’ into the file then placed it into his passive case files bin. He huffed a small breath, then packed up his things and left the office, ready to spend the next week celebrating the holidays.

Chapter Text

Thursday Afternoon, November 24, 1994

The next time Harry woke up, he found himself in a hospital room - which he only recognized from the medical drama shows that Dudley occasionally scrolled past when he was watching the telly. In fact, there was a small telly facing him inside the room.

Having never actually watched the medical dramas on telly, Harry wasn’t quite sure what the etiquette was for hospitals. So he decided to turn on the telly while he waited for someone to tell him what was going on. An action movie of some sorts flicked on - the protagonist was a muscular blond man that invented tools to help him out of the predicaments he found himself in.

Roughly 20 minutes later a nurse came into his room and told him that his doctor would arrive shortly to talk with him, and “is there anybody you’d like for me to call for you?” Harry almost said no, before remembering that the goblins had listed themselves as his guardians on his paperwork. 

“Could you call my guardian actually? I’m not sure if he knows what happened.” Harry told her sheepishly.

The nurse flipped his file open, “Greg Hooks?”

“Yes, that’s him,” he said, before remembering, “he’s my family’s butler.”

“Alright, I’ll get a phone brought up to you. Do you know his number?”

“Uhh…… no.”

“Don’t worry sweetie, it’s listed in your file - I’ll copy it down for you.” 

She bustled out the room and brought back a small cell phone that looked a lot like Vernon’s new business phone. She left the room to go retrieve the doctor, telling him not to go over a time limit of 7 minutes (due to the international nature of the call). He dialed the number.

“This is Greg Hook speaking.”

“Griphook?” Harry guessed.

“Ah, Mr. Potter - is this about your hospital visit?”

“Err… yes. What exactly am I supposed to do? Tell them? How am I going to pay for it?”

The voice at the other end paused a moment, then replied, “I’ll handle the accounting side as your bank manager. If the muggles have had you x-rayed they may ask about your past history of broken bones - I’d suggest implying that your mother, Catherine White , had many boyfriends that were abusive to you. Otherwise? Rest up. Gringotts will send you a letter with instructions once you’ve recovered so that we can meet in person to discuss the rest of your paperwork. Your school will be sent a letter saying that I came to pick you up for the rest of the semester since this accident worried me so much I took the first plane out of England.”

“Alright” Harry said, before ending the phone call.

* --- * --- * --- * --- * --- * --- * --- * --- * --- *

Harry’s doctor’s appointment was relatively simpler - though the doctor seemed concerned that Harry might have hurt himself. (Police questioning later also went down the same vein).

The doctor mainly outlined how Harry’s recovery would fair. Harry would be staying at the hospital for a week - after which he’d be prescribed burn cream and a light dosage of pain medication for a month. 

“Hopefully the burns will fade away into a scar after two weeks and you’ll regain full mobility - but I’d continue putting on the cream for at least a month. The pain medication will be on an as needed basis. We’ll test you for potential nerve damage then as well. I’ll repeat this when you’re discharged.”

Chapter Text

In the end, Harry didn’t go back to school until winter break was over. When a man came calling himself Greg Hook the hospital had released him and scheduled check-ups for the next few months along with a list of care instructions and prescription medications. The man introduced himself as Edward Prescott, one of Gringotts’ muggle representatives, when they left the hospital.

“I don’t know what muggle means, but they usually send me out to change gold into US dollars or dollars into gold. I’m guessing you’re one of the executive’s kids or something? They didn’t tell me.”

Harry simply nodded, realizing that Ed didn’t quite know what Gringotts was and unsure how the bank presented itself to muggles. Ed was perfectly happy to chat over Harry’s silence and, after picking up Harry’s prescriptions, he drove Harry to a fancy apartment building.

“I’ve carried most of your school things over in the past couple days. I was told Mr. Hook’s flight is supposed to arrive soon, but I’m not the one driving him here. You’re in one of the full floor apartments near the top.”

Ed stayed long enough to make sure Harry was situated before he went off to complete his next task for the bank. Harry waited for barely 10 minutes before a pop sounded from the fireplace and out came Griphook.

“Are you well enough to floo?” he asked, giving Harry a cursory look. Harry nodded, then shook his head ‘no’ after remembering his disastrous floo trip before 2nd Year. It wouldn’t be a good idea to go in the floo while recovering. 

Griphook moved to sit down across from him and began pulling paperwork out of his bag. “Mr. Potter, you wanted to discuss your paperwork. How in depth were you planning to inquire today?” He looked curious, and more than a little bit calculating.

Harry swallowed, then brought out a list he had written in the hospital. “I wanted to discuss first my plans for schooling, then where I would be going in the summer. If we still had time I’d also like to talk about managing my money?” A gleam entered the goblin’s eyes at the last words, and Harry felt like he had just been put under a microscope from the depth of attention aimed at him.

“Of course Heir Potter! I’d be delighted.” Griphook’s smile was shark-like now, and Harry resigned himself to reading anything the goblin brought him very carefully.

Griphook’s answers to Harry’s questions were impeccable. He had brought copies of Harry’s original Gringotts papers as well as other documents, the ones sent to Everdine, the hospital, and for the apartment they were occupying - a Gringotts property Harry was now renting. 

Since Harry now had the whole month of December, he was free to really get into the details of planning his fresh start. He was Harris White now, son of the late Catherine White and inheritor of one of Great Britain’s largest fortunes. He was transferred to a boarding school in the US while his new guardian and butler, Greg Hook, sorted out his estate - and it was his first time being off the estate (a story Griphook told him would garner sympathy, keep muggles from looking too far into his past, and explain Harry’s spotty knowledge gaps).

They discussed the summer - Harry would be staying with the family of the American wizard who would serve as Harry’s tutor in magic. (“It’s an odd arrangement, Gringotts doesn’t usually facilitate these services - but some muggle families in the US opt for it in order to keep their children in muggle schooling.”)

While Harry was staying in the Gringotts apartment a muggle would be hired to cook, clean, and supervise Harry’s recovery. (“This far south in the US it’s fairly common to hire illegal immigrants under the table. They’re far less likely to report strange happenings and quite a few of them end up hired full-time. We help them get the proper documents to stay and the MACUSA lets us have special exemptions to let them know about magic.”)

Eventually they got to the subject of Harry’s massive fortune. Griphook’s face had almost smiled when Harry asked to review his finances and make a budget for the rest of his school years. They discussed how much each service would cost Harry for every year until he turned 18 - everything from Everdine tuition to the cost of the maid hired to clean the apartment to the doctor’s appointments that Harry’s injuries had pushed back. Even with a ridiculously oversized ‘allowance’ of $500 a month, Harry would spend less than 1/100th of his inheritance.

“What am I even supposed to do with all this money?” he groaned, which seemed to be a cue for Griphook to insert his opinion.

“Why invest it of course! I could give you a few different options to look through? As your account manager I’d be more than happy to handle the transactions for you.”

Harry blinked owlishly, “You’re my account manager?”

The goblin gave Harry a condescending look and told him, “Why else would I be assigned to your case?”

Harry hadn’t thought of that before, and told him this before asking what exactly being Harry’s account manager meant.

“Not very much for the past 15 years. Your grandparents used my services, but they died assuming your father would renew the accounts almost immediately. Your parents never made a formal visit to renew the accounts and their will was never released, so the Potter account has been sealed. I was hired to run the account for 5 years, but the sealing of the Potter estate froze the timer and my contract included a non-compete clause. As soon as you formally unseal the estate I’ll forever have two years on my contract.”

The story was likely true, and Harry realized that Griphook only told it in order to gain his sympathies so that he’d unseal the account, maybe even renegotiate the contract. This startled Harry, he hadn’t realized how much time he had been spending around the goblin to be able to read him so well, but they had been working on Harry’s plans for the past two weeks he mused.

“Would you like to renegotiate the contract after we unseal my estate?” Harry asked, internally sighing. He could see Griphook almost scrunch up in excitement before he remembered himself.

“We shall see Heir Potter, if I am amenable to the changes in my contract it is possible that I may sign.”

The last two weeks of Harry’s winter break were mainly filled with renegotiating Griphook’s contract (the non-compete was removed, but Harry added a clause stating that anything Griphook learns on other contracts must be applied so that Harry’s portfolio gets the biggest benefit), doctors visits (both the burn appointments and general visits that had been pushed back), and learning more about the extent of the Potter estate (what properties and assets Harry now owned as well as the cost to repair or replace them). Harry also learned about the hefty cut Gringotts was taking for facilitating all these services for him.

“Generally an account manager only handles portfolio, bank account, and maybe some budgeting - not the full life set-up we’ve created for you. This will all end once you turn 18, an adult in the muggle world. I won’t be doing any special services outside of my job after that!”

Chapter Text

As soon as the new semester started, Harry hit the ground running. The first thing the school gave him was a placement test - which he had done horrible on. He had a private tutor to bring him up to speed for the rest of the semester - and Harry was shocked at how quickly he learned the material from the three and a half years he had missed. By the time summer arrived he was nearly caught up to the American ‘ninth grade’ - the grade he should have just finished. The tutor gave him a summer school booklet on the ninth grade topics and told him to send a letter or an email if he needed any help completing it. 

The summer was spent with the Picquerys - an American wizarding family with a son near Harry’s age. The goblins had arranged for Amelia Picquery, a 4th to 5th year potions professor at Ilvermorny, to continue Harry’s magical education. Professor Picquery taught him 4th year potions and charms first (charms was mandatory for a wizarding license, since America required proof of competency with a wand) - then Harry had his pick of subjects to continue studying for the summer. He chose to continue with DADA and transfiguration.

Other than catching up to the correct grade, Harry’s muggle education stayed mostly on track. John, Adam, George, and ‘Boney,’ the boys Harry met before his untimely injury, had reintroduced themselves and the five of them became friends for the next three years - before ultimately splitting up for college. John and George went to Harvard, Adam went to Stanford, and ‘Boney’ went to a Parisian university, “to study fashion,” he told the group with an eyeroll.

Harry decided, since he had no need to hold a job, that he’d study business at Pepperdine University, a college only a few miles away from Everdine. Negotiating with the goblins, though necessary, had also become fun - and Harry found himself enamored with the idea of becoming a secretary. This was why, in the summer of 1999, Harry got himself a secretarial internship at Delta Scientific. The summer internship confirmed, for him, that secretary-dom was where he was heading.

The next summer, in 2000, Harry managed to acquire an internship at Stark Industries, as a junior intern, and then again in 2001 as a senior intern. Things were looking great - he was even assigned to a lower level manager. Until mid-June.

In mid-June, the latest in Tony Stark’s long line of secretaries quit after his eyebrows were singed off. The head of HR hadn’t hired his replacement yet, so a senior intern was assigned to him while HR scrambled to conduct interviews. To be more specific - Harry was assigned (not that he knew about the horrors yet).

The first day started out relatively normal. If relatively normal involved waking up Mr. Stark and his latest paramour (which it was - unfortunately) and making sure to get the lucky lady out the door. Harry then spent the next half hour trying and failing to get Tony out of his lab (by the end of those 30 minutes civility was out the window and calling him Mr. Stark was out of the question). Harry’s next 30 minutes were spent in a series of calls to HR asking what he was meant to do - to which the answer was essentially: ‘just let him work in the lab, Mr. Stane will take over his responsibilities for the day’ (an answer he swiftly learned was ALWAYS the answer until he figured out a way to coax Tony into the office).

Most of Harry’s first week was spent in conversation with Tony’s 4 year old AI J.A.R.V.I.S. while the mad engineer was fiddling downstairs in his lab. It wasn’t until a week in, when Harry asked about how the former secretary managed to get Tony into the office, that he had a breakthrough.

“Mr. Miller usually just made sure Tony never got to his lab and had no excuses to slip away.”

It took another day to implement, but Harry finished his second week as Tony’s secretary. Tony was even in the office for most of those days! On the last one Harry even got him to all of his meetings ON-TIME.

All Harry had to do was silence the area around Tony while he escorted whomever was in his bed out the door, then wake up Tony and bring him to the car with coffee as bait. And child-lock the doors. That was important.

Getting Tony to the office on-time left him feeling like he was on cloud nine. Baby-sitting a man 10 years his senior shouldn’t have felt like the accomplishment that it did - but it was. On Friday, once Harry got Tony to all of his meetings, the HR rep looked at him like he was a god.

This state of affairs did not last. The next week Tony got craftier. Yes, he was physically in the office, but no - he wormed his way out of meetings like Neo dodging bullets in the Matrix. Harry thought the last attempt on Friday was particularly inspired.

He wasn’t sure how Tony had convinced this mad woman to break into the office to come and see him. She burst into his office space, brandishing a bottle of pepper spray like a sword and a pile of documents as a shield. 

“You need to let me into Mr. Stark’s office! I have documents he’ll want to see!”

Harry triggered the alarm for security (but given her harried look they probably already knew about her). “Tony’s not in his office m’am.”

She looked at Tony’s office door and hurried in despite his words. Harry cursed under his breath, tapped the security button again, and sent a message to the front desk in-case the button wasn’t working. Security was being awfully slow - and Tony had a meeting in 10 minutes.

When the security officers finally burst into the room (an agonizing two minutes later) Harry pointed to Tony’s office. “She went into Tony’s office - something about documents? She has pepper spray on her.”

Harry was going to kill Tony slowly. He sent out the security guards saying everything was fine and told Harry not to disturb his meeting before shutting his office door. Harry groaned. Then sent a message to Mr. Stane telling him that Tony wouldn’t make it before groaning elaborately. No one would hear him, but it still made Harry feel better.