Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall…”

Pointy, black ears twitched at the sound of the elderly voice.

“How did you know it was me?” Came the astounded reply.

The dark figure lifted its head at this and inched forward from where it had previously been curled up sleeping…waiting…

“My dear Professor, I’ve never seen a cat sit so stiffly.”

“You’d be stiff if you’d been sitting on a brick wall all day!” McGonagall bit back with a hint of annoyance.

The creature hiding beneath a nearby bush resisted the urge to huff at the witch’s irritation, ‘Try sleepin’ under a bush all day, you ol’ hag!’ He seethed silently, peeking from the safety of the shadows as his crimson orbs followed the witch and wizard.

Unaware of their audience, the magical beings continued their hushed conversation as they strolled down the street towards their destination.

Once the duo was out of human earshot, the critter carefully rose to his feet and stealthily followed the two; his onyx fur allowing him to blend into the night’s shadows. In addition, he made sure to stay as down wind from the humans as possible. He wasn’t sure how keen the witch’s sense of smell was while in her human form, but he figured it was better safe than sorry. Even if the two were to spot him, there was no chance they would recognize him right away, but, it wasn’t everyday one saw a black-furred fox, much less, one wondering around a human suburb.

“-how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?” McGonagall asked as she and the headmaster stopped near one particular house. They didn’t even notice the fox duck beneath another hedge; ears perking as he too wondered where the infant his seer had told him about was.

“Hagrid is bringing him.”

That apparently wasn’t the response the witch was hoping for as it led to the briefest of arguments before the woman cut herself off at the sound of a low, approaching rumble.

The fox’s ears twitched and he lifted his nose to sniff the air. He was met with the ever-growing scent of exhaust before one of those mechanical bicycles dropped down only a few yards from where the fox hid, scaring the living daylights out of him.

What did muggles call those contraptions again?  A motor-bike? Motor…cycle? Or something of the sort?

Whatever it was called, it was loud enough to drown out the low growl from the vulpine. And for that, the canid was grateful for.

The humans and…apparently part giant went back and forth with the largest of the group sobbing and blubbering over the now orphaned infant and how it was so unfair that he would have to grow up amongst muggles instead of the magical community.

The notion was enough to draw a smirk from the fox.

They would all wish the boy had been simply raised by muggles after he was done with him…

The humans spoke for a moment more before Dumbledore finally took the infant and placed him and the carrier he had been brought in on the front step of the Dursley’s residence. “Good luck, Harry.” He bid as he placed a neatly folded letter beside the tiny boy. A moment later, the half-giant mounted his bike and took off while Dumbledore and McGonagall apparated away with a couple of small pops.

Though the magical humans were gone, the fox remained hidden for an extra couple of moments, waiting to make sure neither one or the other returned at the last minute with a change of heart. Once he was sure the coast was clear, the vulpine slunk out of the shadows and made his way over to where young Harry Potter lay sleeping.

Now looming over the defenseless boy, the fox’s crimson orbs flashed in excitement as he thought about the glorious opportunity he had been presented.

Imagine…a mere infant taking out one of the darkest wizards in history and surviving, only to meet his own end at the jaws of what the wizarding world would consider a ‘second-class’ being…a species who bore a member that was thought to have perished looong ago…

And while the wizards wouldn’t know just who or what actually killed their savior, the fox could still revel in his victory over the magical humans.

Within a few hours, the sun would rise and the fools would awaken after their night of celebrations, only to learn that their hero would never return to them. The boy would never know of the great service he had done for his people. Never know the fame and admiration that awaited him…the power that lay within him…the elation of being a part of something muggles could only dream of…

He would also never get the chance to look down on magical beings that weren’t human, such as the fox’s true form.

No…by ending the child’s life now, he’d be doing his people a favor, even if they didn’t realize it.

The traitors working at that infernal wizarding bank certainly wouldn’t…

‘They’re like a pack of domesticated dogs, the whole lot of ‘em!’ The fox’s ears dipped back as his lips twitched in a snarl. He was no trained pup! In his mind, he was still a feral wolf, and he would prove it right here, right now by striking the witches and wizards where it would hurt most.

With that in mind, the fox bared his teeth and gaped his jaw as he slowly lowered his head, relishing the anticipated taste of wizard blood on his tongue. What the vengeful being didn’t expect was for the boy to suddenly stir in his sleep and blink his tiny eyes open.

Said action caught the fox off guard enough to pause in his attack and stare into the emerald eyes that stared back into his own crimson and onyx orbs. He blinked twice in surprise and his ears twitched in mild amusement with the infant did the same. A second later, he tensed as young Harry wiggled in his swaddled blanked and worked his arms loose; first one, then the other. This itself startled the fox further as it meant the child was now wide awake, and if the child was awake, it was only a matter of seconds before he would start wailing, thus possibly awakening and gaining the attention of any of the nearby humans.

The time to act was now!

NOW!

With that resolve, the fox dove forward with the intent of latching onto the child’s throat, only for his plans to once again go awry when the boy’s hand reached up and touched his would-be attacker’s nose.

The sudden touch made the fox jerk his head back in indignant surprise, sniffing and huffing in annoyance.

Harry meanwhile, looked at his hand curiously, opening and closing his itty-bitty fingers at the strange sensation the moist nose had left behind. After a few seconds of inspecting the digits, Harry turned his attention back to the creature that was glaring down at him and reached up with an eager smile, wanting to further explore the funny looking thing.

Another huff from the fox.

Of course the infant wouldn’t know danger when he saw it...he was just a baby.

‘An infant that would grow up an’ be just as horrible as the rest of ‘is kind…” The fox lowered his head till in was only inches from Harry’s face and gave a low and menacing growl in an attempt to at least wipe that little smile from his face.

It didn’t work as Harry reached up with both hands and took hold of the fox’s muzzle. The following coo cut the growl short, and the fox stared down at the boy with wide eyes.

He didn’t know why the touch was enough to freeze him in his tracks…

Maybe it was because that face of pure innocence reminded him of the little ones back in his hidden village; or perhaps it was because deep, deep down, he knew it was wrong to take his anger and vengeance out on an infant, especially one that had put an end to a dark being that could and would have made life a whole lot harder for the ‘fox’s’ species. Or most likely…that face reminded him of someone from his youth…back when he was merely a child himself…

A shot of pain exploded from his muzzle, and the fox quickly shook his head, freeing himself from Harry’s exploratory grip. He brought a paw up to rub at the now sore spot while glaring at Harry, who was now staring at the whisker he had tugged free from the ‘silly’ little creature.

A new wave of anger and annoyance washed over the fox and he made to relaunch his assault, only to freeze once more when a faintly familiar voice spoke up in the back of his mind-

‘Don’t do it brother…’

The fox’s ears shot forward as his eyes took on a glassy look.

‘You would have never done something like this.’

‘Things change...’ The fox thought, thinking back to the figure the voice belonged to. ‘Back then, I would ‘ave never even thought ‘bout…’ A lump formed in his throat. He couldn’t even finish that train of thought. What he had done to his little brother all those years ago hadn’t really set in until after his own near death…when he was licking his wounds- both literally and figuratively.

‘You can’t let your anger and hate get the better of you. Not again.’ The voice continued.

The fox growled, ‘An’ why shouldn’t I?! They’ve hurt-‘

‘You?’ The voice cut in, his voice still soft and gentle just as it always was. Just as it had been moments before its owner’s death…

‘What would doing this accomplish?’ The voice continued.

The fox remained stubbornly silent as he watched the young boy pass the stolen whisker from one hand to the other.

The voice tried a different tactic, ‘Do you remember what you said after my…passing?” The ears twitched. ‘You made a promise to me…’

‘I said I’d make it up to you…somehow…’ The fox’s ears drooped in defeat, already knowing where this was going.

‘Don’t hurt the child, Ranrok. That’s all I ask of you.’ The voice begged before falling silent as well.

‘Lodgok…’ The was no response. ‘Lodgok!’ Still nothing. He was gone. If he was even ‘there’ to begin with.

Ranrok sat back on his haunches with a heavy sigh, his gaze still set firm on the ‘boy-who-lived’.  

Leave it to his guilty conscious to manifest his brother’s voice and talk him out of doing something wreck less…again.

Harry beamed up at the goblin in disguise and held up the confiscated whisker, waving it in an almost taunting manner.

‘Cheeky little tyke.’ Ranrok thought with an amused tilt of his head. Had the boy’s ears been pointed, he just might have passed as a goblin child. He certainly held the mischievousness of one. But that was silly. Imagine, a human wizard- thee savior of the wizarding world- raised amongst gobl-

Ranrok’s ears perked as a thought suddenly hit him.

He may not have had it in him to kill the child, but…what if he could still hurt the humans through other means? Such as…taking the young boy and raising him as a goblin? A creature many wizards thought were below them…

The look on everyone’s faces would certainly be priceless.

And come to think of it, having a human wizard as a true ally could work out for Ranrok in the long run. Perhaps through the child, goblins would finally have full knowledge of wizarding magic.

Yes…it would take a bit more planning, but Ranrok would make it work. At the very least, for now, he could sit back and laugh as the humans and their allies loose their minds in their search for Harry Potter. They could then fight amongst themselves as they pointed fingers at each other, trying to figure out who was a Death Eater amongst them as it only made sense that one of Voldemort’s followers could be responsible for the kidnapping.

Noone would ever suspect a goblin was the true culprit. They’d sooner believe Fenrir Greyback was responsible than anyone else…

Ranrok shifted back into his goblin form, grinning as Harry’s eyes widened in awe. He then crouched down and ran a claw along the boy’s arm, “You an’ I are goin’ to make great changes. But first…a new name for a new home…” If the boy was going to live among goblins, it would only make sense for him to shed his human designation.

Said name came easily as Ranrok had reserved it for decades, waiting for the day that he could pass it down to his own heir…

A name that honored both him and his long past little brother.

“Lodrok…” Ranrok dubbed as he silently willed the carrier into the air. Once it was several feet off the ground, the goblin turned and made his way back to where he kept his portkey hidden while a cheerfully babbling ‘Lodrok’ floated close behind him.

The only thing Petunia Dursley found on her porch step several hours later was her usual delivery of milk bottles.  

Chapter Text

It was still dark out when Ranrok returned to his settlement with his new heir in tow. The majority of his people were still asleep within the safety of their homes with only a handful of guards patrolling the perimeter of their self-declared territory.

One such member that was still away was Ranrok’s loyal second-in-command, Bognast, who- after seeing the levitating carrier behind his leader, made quick work in closing the distance between them.

“Ranrok…sir…w-what…?” Bognast motioned to the floating baby before locking eyes with his leader in confusion.

Ranrok shook his head, “Not ‘ere.” He whispered and gestured in the direction of his own hut, “We’ll discuss this in private.”

Bognast gave an eager nod, “Aye, sir.”

With a final glance around only to see the few curious gazes of the guards, the duo made haste to reach the private confines of Ranrok’s dwellings. And just in time as the tiny human was starting to whimper and stir.

Once inside, Ranrok lowered the carrier to the ground and smirked at the wide eyed baby, who immediately calmed down once he saw that familiar face again.

“You…brought the wizard…back?” Bognast asked after a moment of awkward silence.

“I did.” Ranrok confirmed, looking down at his new charge. His ears twitched in amusement when Har-Lodrok’s hands clutched his loosely wrapped blanket and pulled the cloth up to his chin for warmth.

Bognast watched as his leader assisted the infant with surprising tenderness, “…Why?” He was met with a crimson glare, making Bognast elaborate in his questioning, “That is…when Talmitt foretold of the dark wizard’s downfall and how the sole survivor would be delivered to his remaining relatives, you seemed…eager to dispose of the child…and yet…here he is…alive…” He held his hand out in Harry’s direction. “And I can’t help but wonder…why?”

Silence filled the small cottage as Ranrok thought of a proper explanation. Telling his right-hand man, he had hallucinations of his dead brother talking him out of killing the boy seemed like a good way to have the village question his remaining sanity.

“There was a change of plans.” The head goblin said at last.

“Obviously.” Bognast muttered under his breath. He shook off his irritation when Ranrok sent him a warning scowl, “I mean…in what way were the plans ‘changed’? He pressed gently.

The corner of Ranrok’s lip twitched as he watched Harry clamp down on his thumb once more.

“You recall how I said losin’ the boy would be the greatest blow to the wizards?” Ranrok started, still not looking at his comrade.

“Aye. I do.” Bognast confirmed with a nod. He fell silent as he waited for his leader to continue.

“Well…as I was ‘bout to deliver my killin’ blow,” Ranrok recalled slowly, “I got to thinkin’…if I the child now…it would be over an’ done with quickly. They’d mourn the loss, but they’d move on from it within a few months- a year at the most.” He paused before continuing with his semi-lie, semi-truth excuse, “But if I took ‘im without a trace, the wizards would lose themselves wonderin’ where he went an’ what fate befell ‘im. They’ll spend weeks tryin’ to track ‘im down, only fail every time, thus prolongin’ their sufferin.” Ranrok nodded to himself. It made more sense when he said this out loud…even if this wasn’t what Lodgok would have had in mind…

Bognast on the other hand, could only blink as he struggled to understand how his…friend?...could ever think this was a better alternative.

“Sir…are you absolutely sure this is a…wise idea?” Bognast took a step back as Ranrok slowly turned towards him with a look of annoyance, “A-after all, if the wizards realize that we have the boy- much less that you are still alive, it…it could cause an uproar within the Wizarding community, and our people will be the ones to suffer.”

Ranrok’s crimson eyes flashed at the thought of the humans not only causing more grief towards his kind, but at the threat of having his heir taken from him, “Then we’ll just have to make sure they don’t find out ‘bout ‘im. Not until we’re ready.” His expression softened as he turned back to Harry, “Till then, he is my son.”

Bognast did a double take, “Son? Ready?! Sir, I don’t understand. Ready for what?”

“Ssshhh!” Ranrok hushed at Bognast’s raised voice, “As for my plans for ‘im, I was thinkin’…we raise ‘im as our own. Make the boy one of us.”

“One of us? Sir?” Bognast repeated, not without a hint of skepticism. Even if the Ministry didn’t find the child, raising a human wizard as a goblin was just…unheard of! Unnatural even…

The SIC’s incredulity didn’t go unnoticed, which prompted Ranrok to elaborate, “We bring ‘im up in our culture. Teach ‘im our ways. Mold him so his loyalty lies with us. Once he’s old enough, he can go back to his kind and learn their magic, and-”

“And tell us their secrets!” Bognast finished with a crooked grin.

“Precisely.” A smirk formed on Ranrok’s own face, “An’ as a bonus, we can relish in the human’s anguish when they find out their hero was raised within a goblin community.”

“An unknown goblin community.” Bognast elaborated.

“Obviously, that should go without sayin’.” Ranrok agreed.

The two goblins fell quiet as they stared down at the human that just might help boost goblin-kind within the magical society. No more second-class citizenship. Their kind can finally move up in the world…a world where goblins could have so many more opportunities for their future…a future where young goblins had more options than working for a bank or working as assistants in shops and restaurants…

A knock at the cabin door rattled the leaders out of their daydreams and they quickly whirled at the sound. Harry whimpered at the sound, gaining his new father’s attention once more.

“Check who it is!” Ranrok ordered over his shoulder before crouching down and attempting to sooth his son.

Bognast crept towards the window and peeked out, “It’s Talmitt!” He announced in surprise.

Ranrok’s ears twitched at the mention of the village seer, “Let ‘er in.”

“But what about the-”

“Knowin’ Talmitt, she already knows about the boy.” Ranrok looked back over with a shoulder with a nod,”Let ‘er in.” He repeated.

Doing as his leader asked, Bognast opened the door and stepped aside to let the newcomer in, “Talmitt.” He greeted with a small bow.

“Bognast.” The seer returned. She shot the second-in-command a quick glance, but her focus was more on the Chief and the fussing bundle, “Ranrok…” She dipped her head in greeting.

“Talmitt.”

“You’ve returned with the baby.” The she-goblin clutched her hands to her chest, “I knew you would.” She eyed Ranrok with a knowing smirk.

“I should ‘ave known you knew more than you let on.” Ranrok stepped aside as Talmitt bent down to retrieve the infant.

Talmitt hummed, “I’ll admit, I was hesitant to tell you of the boy at first,” She grinned as she bounced Harry, effectively silencing his cries to quite whimpers, “but upon seeing the plans you had in store, I simply knew I had to point you in the right direction.” Her smiled softened as she stared down at Harry, who stared right back at her in awe, “You bringing this child here benefits all of us…”

Bognast’s ears perked, “So it’ll work? This plan of Ranrok’s…it’ll go off without a hitch?” He asked, his excitement growing by the second.

Talmitt’s ears dipped slightly, “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. They’ll be trials and tribulations I’m sure, but…” she gave an almost sad sigh, “It’ll work out in the end.”

“You don’t sound very confident.” Bognast noted, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Ranrok nodded in agreement.

Talmitt’s mouth gaped as her eyes bounced between the two men, “I am!” She nodded feverishly, “I just…don’t know all the details between now and the end result. Not all of my visions are as laid out as this one.” Talmitt jerked her head in Harry’s direction.

The males shared an uncertain look.

“But…it does work out. Yeah? We get our happy ending? Yeah?” Bognast pressed, desperation edging into his voice. He had already gotten his hopes up, he really didn’t want them crashing down so soon. As it were, the whole ‘trials and tribulations’ thing already had him on edge…

Why couldn’t things ever go smoothly for goblins?

Talmitt’s eyes locked on Ranrok and she gave a reluctant nod, “Yes. We do.” Here face was set in a mask of confidence but her eyes held a sort of withdrawn look.

Ranrok’s right ear twitched in unease.

The seer was hiding something.

A peek at the lightening window told Ranrok that daylight was nearing and his people would be awaking soon. Those that knew of his absence from the previous day -which would no doubt be everyone by now- would be wondering where he had gone off to and if he had returned. Even now, Ranrok could hear the first of the early risers leaving their cottages and going about their daily routines.

“Bognast,” Ranrok turned to his friend, who straightened at attention, “go out and spread the word that there will be a mandatory village meeting at…at noon.”

Bognast moved to follow the order only to turn at the last second, his hand on the doorknob, “Noon, Sir?”

“I need my rest Bognast. Proper rest, in a proper bed.” Upon being met with other goblin’s confused look, Ranrok added, “I spent the day and most of the night hiding under a garden shrub.”

“Ah. I see. Well…I’ll tell the others to meet in the main lodge.”

“That’s a good lad.” Ranrok praised, watching as Talmitt placed the calmer, yet still wide-awake Harry. When the woman made to leave as well, Ranrok held up a hand to stop her, “Actually, Talmitt…a word, if you would.”

Talmitt shared a look with Bognast and urged him off before turning to Ranrok, “Of course.”

The duo waited till the door shut behind the final member before Ranrok addressed his seer once more, “There’s more you ain’t tellin’ me…isn’t there?”

Talmitt glanced at the door, silently begging for Bognast to reappear within the last second as he always did. When that didn’t happen, she gave a defeated sigh, “Yes, sir…there is…”

The chief goblin released a deep sigh of his own. Of course, it was too good to be true. Really,  what about stealing a wizard would make things easier for his kind?

“What happens?” Ranrok sighed, barely keeping hold of his rising annoyance.

Talmitt eyes Ranrok with a forlorn look before focusing her attention to Harry, who is now sucking on the edge of his blanket. After she was done here, Talmitt would take it upon herself to find some appropriate food for the young boy.

“The boy will inspire great changes to the magical world. Our kind will have more opportunities, respect and rights, as would other magical beings…elves; vampires; werewolves; centaurs…his influenced benefits all non-humans. Many of us will reap the benefits. Bognast will find a wife, and they’ll have many children together.”  Talmitt paused to take a shaky breath. Miniature versions of Bognast running around…Talmitt wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t foreseen it! Composing herself, she continued, “Harry- or, Lodrok, as I believe you’ve renamed him- grows up and finds a nice, young witch and starts a lovely little family with her. I start a family as well…” A faint smile tugged on Talmitt’s lips as her eyes dropped to the floor, thinking of the man she’ll meet and the children they’ll have together.

“That all sounds…good…” Ranrok started slowly, really not seeing how any of this could rattle his seer enough to try to keep secrets from him.

“That’s because that’s the good news.” Talmitt explained.

“Then what’s the bad news?”

“The ‘bad’ news…” Talmitt paused and her ears dipped in distress. She really didn’t want to upset the Chief after getting him so hyped up. Perhaps being as vague as possible would be the way to go?

“What is it?” Ranrok pushed, growing more nervous as Talmitt’s silence dragged on.

Talmitt looked between Ranrok and Ha-Lodrok. Though her leader had acquired his new son via…unlawful means, the new father-son duo would form a close bond, thus making their eventual fallout all the more painful.

“Before I say any more about us, I feel I must tell you…the dark wizard- the one whose demise has caused nation and perhaps, worldwide celebrations…”

“Yes, what about him?”

Talmitt lifted his chin, “He’s not gone for good.” She said bluntly. “Not the way the humans are hoping for.”

“What are you sayin’, Talmitt?”  Ranrok’s eyes darted to Harry and then back to Talmitt, “Are you honestly tellin’ me that Vol-”

“Shhh!” Talmitt pressed a finger against Ranrok’s lips, effectively silencing him.

Ranrok blinked twice at the audacity of the seer before raising his own hand and slowly lowering the finger from his face, his brows dipped in mild annoyance. “Do you think he-” Cue eye roll, “survived in the same way I did?”

Talmitt pursed her lips in thought, “No. He’s used dark magic just as you have, but you did not split your soul into pieces and hide them in multiple items.”

“He’s usin’ horcruxes?!” Ranrok’s ears perked in disbelief.

“Yes.”

“Blimey…” Ranrok’s gaze fell to the floor, “An’ I thought I was mad…”

Talmitt watched the Chief goblin in a brief moment of silence, “As we speak, he’s searching for a way back. He’s searching for a host.” Ranrok’s eyes met hers, “Whether it happens in a matter of days, or matter of years, he will come back. And once the humans figure that out, they’re going to want their hero back.” Talmitt cast a sympathetic gaze towards Harry, “They’re all going to come for him…”

Ranrok’s eyes flared.

‘Like hell they are!’

“This village is well hidden.” Ranrok insisted, “An’ I’ll teach ‘im ‘ow to defend himself. He won’t even see another human if I can help it!”

There was a heavy sigh from Talmitt, “You can’t shelter him like that forever, Ranrok.”

“It’s not for’eva. Just until I feel he’s ready to start gatherin’ intel on the wizards.” Ranrok crossed his arms and held his nose up high, “You can’t take me for a completely overbearin’ guardian.” He insisted.

Talmitt gave a playful scoff, “We’ll see.” Was all she said as she started towards the door. “For now, though, I’ll let the two of you rest. It was a long night and its going to be a longer day once everyone hears how a human wizard will be staying with us.” At the door, Talmitt paused and looked over her shoulder, “On a serious note, Ranrok…if you ever need help with the little one, don’t hesitate to ask.” Her onyx eyes landed on the baby, “I don’t mind the practice in raising a child.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Ranrok promised, knowing full well he was going to need all the help he could get. What with him having zero experience with children and yet still choosing to raise a wizard…

“Helpin’ me find a wetnurse would be an appropriate start.” Ranrok turned to his son, “I recon he’ll be needin’ a feedin’ soon.”

Talmitt nodded, “I agree. I’ll get on it.” With that, she slipped out the door and left to join her closest companions.

That left Ranrok alone with his son once more.

Harry waved his arms up and down and huffed with excitement as his new father approached him.

“Don’t work yourself up, my son.” Ranrok warned as he began to unclasp and shrug off his black armor, “You an’ I both need our rest b’fore we meet the rest of the village.” Ranrok winced as he inched his metallic glove off his hand. Once free, he shook off his fingers and clenched and unclenched his hand. “Don’t expect me to ever get you one of these.” He told Harry, “It’s not as comfortable as it looks.” He added, shrugging off his armor and kicking off his boots.

Seeing his new father undress prompted Harry to squirm in his sheets, whining when he couldn’t pull his legs loose.

“Might as well get this off you, yeah?” Ranrok muttered as he bent down to assist the youngling, “It’s been warm out here lately, and we don’t have that fancy coolin’ or warmin’ system muggles have.” His ears twitched in approval when he saw that Harry’s outfit wasn’t one of those one-piece suites that covered everything from the neck down. Instead, the boy’s clothing consisted of a light blue, short-sleeved shirt for his top, while a simple diaper covered his lower half. A suitable outfit for the currently rising temperature.

The faint sound of children’s laughter made the goblin and young wizard turn to the window. Accompanying the sounds of merrymaking was the idle chatter of the villagers as they went about their business.

Ranrok turned back to his son.

He only had a few hours at the most to get in some good sleep before he had to deal with whatever fallout the villagers would have once they see the newest member of the tribe. In fact, Ranrok could already hear the magnitude of questions the others were bound to throw his way. The children especially would be curious as to the sudden presence of the young wizard…but they would also be the easiest to convince that all would be well. That the end plan would make the human’s presence all worth it. That all they had to do was tolerate this one wizard…

The real challenge was the older goblins. The ones that held a personal vendetta against witches and wizards…as Ranrok did.

“It’ll be fine.” Ranrok assured himself as he shifted the baby basket closer to his bed, “Once they understand your purpose, they’ll be fine.”

“Ah, mama?” Harry glanced around the room as if just now remembering the red-haired woman he had seen just hours prior.

Despite himself, Ranrok’s ears dipped in sympathy, “I’m sorry, little one. Your mum is gone. Your brethren failed to protect ‘er.” Ranrok gave a brief pause after the blunt explanation, “But I’m here now. An’ I won’t let anythin’ happen to you. Then once you’re grown,” Ranrok’s face twisted in discomfort as he lowered himself onto his bed, “You’ll help us. Gods!” He hissed as he rolled onto his back. Never again would he spend an entire day curled up on the cold, hard ground, much less in his compressed, animal form. He was getting too old for such escapades.

Releasing a calming sigh, Ranrok turned back to Harry, who stared back with wide eyes, wondering what was wrong with the old goblin that would make him make such funny noises and faces. “Get your rest, Lodrok.” Ranrok winced as he brought his arm over the edge and slowly ran his hand over Harry’s face, “You’ll need your strength for what’s to come.” He pulled his hand back and watched as the infant gave a few tired blinks. A yawn later and those tiny eyes fluttered closed as the young wizard fell into a peaceful sleep.

Satisfied that his charge was finally resting, Ranrok lowered his head and grunted as he shifted into a comfortable position. Soon, he too found himself falling into a deep, restful sleep.

While Ranrok and his newly dubbed son, ‘Lodrok’ caught up on their much-needed rest, the wizarding world began to stir from their late-night celebrations. As streets around the world came to life, most within the magical community greeted each other with wide, welcoming grins, the owners still riding off the high of such a bittersweet victory against one of the darkest wizards of their time.

The ‘Dark Lord’ was gone; his followers were currently being rounded up, and the young savior was safe with his closest relatives, and within ten years, he would rejoin his kind and learn of the great service he had achieved at such a young age.

In many minds, all was well with the world.

All except for one aging witch, who just couldn’t shake the feeling that leaving Harry Potter with a family of magic-hating muggles was a terrible idea…

Professor Minerva McGonagall knew what kind of people the Dursley’s were. She had spent only a day watching the muggles, and yet she felt she had seen enough to know that they were everything but a loving and accepting family. The husband was a gluttonous brute while the lady of house was a narcissistic perfectionist. The couple’s son was well on his way to becoming a full pledged brat.

And that opinion was based on what McGonagall saw. According to her ex-student, now work colleague, Severus Snape, Petunia Dursley was worse than what she let on.

The woman didn’t just hate magic, she was completely jealous of those that were born with magical abilities. And if that was the case -and Minerva had no reason not to believe it was- then Harry growing up with the Dursley’s would do more harm than good. He would either grow up in an envy driven, abusive household or, he would be taught to hate magic himself.

Neither option settled well for the aging witch. That was why she took it upon herself to check on young Harry…if only to see that the Dursley’s had even brought the poor boy into their home before the day got too hot. From there, McGonagall would think of a way to convince Albus to relocate the boy to a more loving home.

Bloodwards be damned, there had to be a better way to protect the child from any future threats!

Who he could go to…was something Minerva had yet to figure out. Had she been several decades younger, Minerva would have taken in the boy herself, but alas…she was well past the age to keep up with a growing toddler. His godfather, Sirius would have been an obvious choice, but given that he facing a lengthy prison sentence, it was unlikely to ever happen. Remus was another good candidate, but the poor man just didn’t trust himself to be around others during the full moon…even if he took his Wolfsbane potion. Severus was out of the question as was pretty much the rest of the Hogwarts staff.

That’s not to say most of the teachers wouldn’t want to raise the son of James and Lily Potter, its just…they couldn’t. There was no time to raise a young boy when everyone had to focus to teaching plans and keeping other students in line. As for leaving him with a spouse, well…no one really had someone that could stay behind and watch Harry while the other spent the school year working.

Come to think of it…none of the staff members were currently married, and as far as Minerva knew, all of them were childless.

How odd…

Minerva shook her head. That was all something that could be sorted in time. Right now, Minerva needed to make sure Harry was out of the elements before she took her next course of action. If one was even needed. There was always the chance the Dursley’s could surprise her and would be ecstatic to raise a child that wasn’t theirs as well as raise him to be a respectable young man…but Minerva found that to be very unlikely.

And it was because of that unlikeliness that Minerva found herself looking through her wardrobe for what could pass as suitable muggle attire.

The plan was to stake out the house in her feline form…see what she could spot past the curtains that Mrs. Dursley usually kept drawn back. If anything seemed out of the ordinary or concerning, she would confront the muggles in her human form. The white, long sleeve blouse and ankle length black skirt she settled on was simply to prevent any unwanted attention when she had to knock on the Dursley’s door.

After lacing up her boots and giving herself a final onceover, Minerva grabbed her wand and apparated to Little Whinging with the signature ‘pop’.

Upon arriving at where she knew would be a desolated spot, Minerva shifted down into her feline form and cautiously made her way towards 4 Privet Drive, pausing and ducking under a hedge whenever a car or a child on a bike would ride by. At one point, a man with a Basset Hound strolled by, and the owner had to give the leash a small tug when the canine made to approach Minerva’s current hiding spot.

Once the two were on their way, the witch tentatively crawled out from her cover. To her annoyance however, she soon found that the three of them were all heading in the same direction, meaning she would have to keep her distance before reaching the Dursley residence. 

‘We must be quite a sight!’ McGonagall as she ducked and weaved through the multiple lawns and gardens, ‘A man walking a dog while being followed by a cat…’ But before she could think about the amusing predicament any further, she came to an abrupt halt and dove into a rose bush, wincing as the thorns brushed against her coat. A small gap between the stems and leaves provided an excellent view of the Dursley’s front door…which the hound was fervently hauling his owner towards.

“Jasper! Come on, now!” The man gave the leash a couple of quick tugs, but Jasper was having no part of it. He continued to jerk and pull until he was right at the door step…right where Harry Potter had been left just hours before.

Glancing at the house nervously, the man bent down and scooped up the dog in his arms, effectively interrupting Jasper’s seemingly desperate sniffing.

“We can’t linger here, you silly boy!” The man chastised, returning to the sidewalk and placing his dog back on his four feet, “You know how that family can be!” Giving the leash another tug, the man began walking away at a quicker pace with Jasper following behind, throwing longing looks over his shoulder as he went.

McGonagall waiting until the duo took a sharp left at the end of the street before slinking out of her hiding spot and beelining it to the front stoop, her small legs a blur as she crossed the final lawn. Once there, she shot a cautious look at the door before giving an exploratory sniff at the ground and froze…

Harry’s scent was there alright…but there was something else as well. Something…canine? Not the Basset Hound- though that was there, but…there was another Canidae…not quite domestic dog, but…another sniff- vulpine?! Was that a fox scent?!

A third sniff.

It was!

‘Oh, good Lord!’ McGonagall panicked. She whipped her head around as if expecting to see the fox still lurking about.

It was bad enough they had just left Harry out in the open, but had a fox really gotten to the boy?! Had their negligence gotten Harry-

No.

No, there was no scent of blood…just Harry…and the fox…

 What’s more, if Harry had been the victim of a fox mauling, the house and yard would be alive with muggle law enforcement, medics and possibly journalists.

So, no. Harry couldn’t be hurt, which meant, he was somewhere within the house. As for the fox’ presence, well…perhaps it was just passing by and stopped to sniff at the lingering scent the infant left behind.

Still…Minerva couldn’t help but feel as if something was off…

It was quiet in the suburban home…too quiet. If Severus’ tales of his young encounters with Petunia were correct, the woman would no doubt be raising a fuss over the fact that she had to raise her deceased sister’s wizard son. And if Minerva had learned anything over the course of her scouting mission of the Dursley’s it was Vernon Dursley was just as temperamental as his wife- if not more so.

McGonagall’s ears dipped in fear at the thought of what the muggles could have done with Harry.

At best, they could have taken him to an orphanage. It would take a bit of work to get him back, but it was possible. At worst, the Dursley’s could have dumped Harry somewhere else and left him to be found by someone else. The absolute catastrophic scenario would be that he was abducted before his relatives ever awoke.

The thought of tiny, little Harry in the hands of malicious people was nearly enough to send Minerva into a panic attack, but…after taking one deep breath after another she managed to calm her racing heart and clear her mind.

First things first, Minerva had to take count of the different people- and creatures- that had stepped on this porch since she, Albus and Rubeus left.

Bringing her head low, Minerva gave a deep inhale. Right off the bat, she picked up on Vernon’s stench- which made sense as his missing vehicle meant he had already gone off to work; Petunia’s overbearing, perfumed odor came next as well as the faint smell of an unknown human that bore a hint of dairy. A glance at the now empty milk bottle on the stoop told Minerva that the human might have been the resident milkman. Next, was Harry’s…and Minerva…and Albus. There was also that brief man and his dog, as well as that fox. Everything else was fairly old and ‘stale’.

By all means, there was no way Harry could have been carried away by someone. Perhaps Minerva really was looking too far into this and Severus was wrong about his predictions on how Petunia would react and even Minerva’s original assessment of the couple had been thrown out of proportions. The only way to know for sure though, was to ask the lady of the house herself.

Swiveling her head around, Minerva was pleased to see the streets silent and bare, just enough for her to sneak around the nearest, tallest brush and transfigure back into her human form. After stepping out from around the greenery, she shot another look around the neighborhood and upon not seeing any prying eyes or suspicious curtains shutting, she dusted herself off and strolled over to the front door of the Dursley residence.

Ringing the doorbell and then following up with a sharp knock, Minerva heard the faint call of ‘Just a moment!’ from within the dwelling. A second later, the door opened to reveal the lean figure of Petunia Dursley, still dawning her frilly, pink apron.

“Yes?” The woman asked, visibly eying the elderly woman on her doorstep up and down.

“Mrs. Petunia Dursley?” Minerva began.

“Yes?”

“My name is Minerva McGonagall. I work at Hogwarts-” Before Minerva could even finish her first sentence, the door was abruptly slammed in her face, making her recoil with a small ‘Oh!’.

Blinking twice at the blatant display of rudeness, Minerva clenched her jaw and gave another firm knock on the door.

The curtains to the nearby window opened to reveal a furious Petunia, “If you don’t leave, I’ll call the police!” She shouted before throwing the curtains shut.

Oh, that wouldn’t do at all..

“Mrs. Dursley, I’m just here to make sure your nephew is doing well!” Minerva called back, hoping she wasn’t making too much of a scene.

There was a brief pause from the other side of the door, “Why would you come to me about that? Why don’t you go ask my sister how he’s doing?”

Those words his Minerva like a sledgehammer, “…Because your sister is no longer with us. I’m afraid she and her husband were killed on Halloween night, and your nephew was left in your care…It was all explained in the note we left with your nephew when we dropped him off last night.” Minerva paused as she awaited the other woman’s response. She didn’t have to wait long as a moment later, the locks unlatched and the door cracked open just enough for a completely bewildered Petunia to stick her head out.

“What on Earth are you talking about?! What note? What boy?”  

Chapter Text

The first few months with Lodrok were…interesting.

After presenting the human infant, Ranrok was hit with a multitude of genuine questions and comments.

“A human? A wizard?!”

“What is this?!”

“Why is he here?”

“What is this?!”

Talmitt patted Lodrok’s back as he whimpered at the rising voices of the villagers.

Ranrok, to his credit, allowed his people to voice their confusion and anger, all while he maintained a calm demeanor. After a few moments though, he shot an expectant look at Bognast, who brought his fingers to his lips and released a sharp whistle that rose above the cacophony of voices.

Immediately, the village fell silent and awaited the deserved explanation from their clan leader.

Ranrok then explained his plan of keeping the child- the savior of the wizarding world and raising him as one of them. Not only would keeping him hidden from wizards drive them insane, but once he came of age, they could use him to influence the wizarding government and curb things more into their favor…or at the very least, gain them more rights than they currently had.

This explanation was met with a fair share of skepticism. Someone near the back of the crowd called out, asking if that meant they really had to treat the human as one of them.

“You will treat him as my son.” Ranrok responded.

This earned him another round of shocked whispers as the crowd exchanged bewildered looks with each other.

Talmitt looked out at the crowd, scanning the faces until she caught sight of her weary mother.

The elderly goblin stood near the back of the crowd, listening to the crowd complain but not saying anything herself. Instead, she just watched her daughter hold the wizard infant that was more than half her size, every unsaid concern and question etched on her face.

Talmitt gave her mother a reassuring nod before stepping forward and addressing the tribe. She explained her vision of their people’s future if they successfully raised the boy-who-lived. With the child by their side, goblins would have a voice, a spokesperson to grant them the rights and respect they craved and deserved. She also points out how if they had left ‘Lodrok’ with his human relatives, he would have been abused and neglected, simply for being part of the magical community.

“It’s bad enough we are mistreated for being goblins,” Talmitt reasoned, “imagine a child being abused simply for having magic.” Her onyx eyes scanned the crowd, watching as parents held their children closer, the thought of something so small and innocent being harmed for such a trivial matter- one that a mere infant can’t even control did not sit well with the families.

Tugging on the heart strings was what Talmitt was doing…and it was working.

While there was still a handful of reluctant goblins, most seemed to have calmed down at the thought of having a wizard in their midst…of growing up alongside their own children…

There was a bit more grumbling, but ultimately, when the village was dismissed, it was decided and -somewhat- accepted that Ranrok would be raising a human child.

Ranrok watched his people saunter back to their business, some still talking among themselves on how this was ‘ridiculous’ and how Ranrok must be losing it in his prolonged age. He turned to Talmitt and gave her a grateful nod, “What would I do without you, Talmitt?” he asked in genuine gratitude.

Talmitt looked up in mock thought, “I don’t know…” she looked back and Ranrok and shrugged, “but it’s certainly something I think about at least once a day.” She smirked and walked past her leader. With all the fusing Lodrok was doing, it was obviously time for him to eat.

Bognast scoffed and placed his hands on his hips as he stepped up next to Ranrok, “Oh, I hope whatever bloke she ends up with is ready for sarcasm, because she’s got no shortage of it.” He shook his head and ran his tongue along the inside his cheek as he watched Talmitt make her way towards her mother.

“That she does…” Ranrok confirmed as his eyes followed the women as they walked away with his son. He looked at Bognast and patted his shoulder, “But that’s a thought for another day. Right now, you an’ me have some plannin’ to do.”

Harry- Lodrok’s first year with the clan was as uneventful as a toddler’s life can get.

In the weeks after Ranrok’s announcement of adopting the beloved ‘Harry Potter’, there was still a bit of bellyaching amongst the villagers, some even threatening to leave the clan and either join another tribe or start one of their own, but ultimately, these were all empty threats as no one wanted to leave the safety of Ranrok’s magically protected village. So, they all just moped and eventually came to terms with the new arrangements.

As for the wizards, they kept up the search for the boy, but after a year with no results, they came up with three likely scenarios. The first; he had likely been carried away and eaten by a ‘fox’. The second; he had been kidnapped and killed by a Death Eater- a case in which the ‘killer’ had yet to be caught. The third; he had been stolen away to the muggle world which, if that were the case, then there was hope of finding him, but…the world was big and he could be anywhere. So, while the missing person’s case was still open, there was little chance of finding Harry, and ultimately, the larger search for Harry Potter was called off.

Hearing the news, Ranrok had smirked to himself. He had won. He got to keep his new charge and he managed to send the wizarding world into a state of grief.

Now, he could truly focus on raising the boy.

By the time Lodrok turned three, he wasn’t just walking, he was running and jumping and wrestling and talking…

That boy could talk up a storm in- mostly English…but also Gobbledygook. Ranrok made sure the boy took in as much goblin culture he could, including the mother tongue of his adopted community.

This was also the age Lodrok made his first official friends, Zuke and Minga.

Zuke was the son of a Thokk and Zuda, a craftsman and forager respectively. Minga was the daughter of Wargar, a guard and hunter of the tribe, and Esmin, one of four healers in the village.

The parents had been reluctant in letting their children play with Lodrok, but as is the case with children…they didn’t see or understand the differences and instead saw a larger friend to play with, and over time, the adults’ unease faded and most had no problem allowing a ‘half’ wizard play with their youngsters.

Although, having the village leader as a father helped Lodrok immensely.

At four years old, Lodrok started asking questions about himself and the goblins around him.

Why was he taller than all his friends, despite being the same age? Why was he as tall- or in some cases, taller than some of the adults?

Why were his eyes green and white while everyone else had black eyes? Or black and red like Ranrok’s?

Why were everyone’s teeth sharp, but his were square?

Why were his nails round and dull while everyone else’s were long and sharp?

Why was his nose the smallest?

And most prominently; Why didn’t he have long, pointed ears too?

Ranrok, not knowing how to really address a child’s pressing curiosity, would usually -and bluntly- tell Lodrok its because he was a ‘human’, which…only led to more questions than answers.

Here, Talmitt would step in and explain what a human was and how they were different from goblins.

Lodrok would ask if there were any other humans in the world and Talmitt would answer that there were plenty of humans in the world.

“Are there any humans here that I haven’t met?” Lodrok would ask next.

“No, not here.” Talmitt would patiently answer.

“Would dad let any more humans stay here?”

“…No…probably not…”

“Why not?”

Talmitt paused, “Because you’re daddy’s scared of humans.”

“Of me?!” Lodrok’s hands went to his chest in horror.

“No, not of you.” Talmitt reassured, “His afraid of grown-up humans.” Not exactly a lie as his hate did manifest out of fear…

“Oh.” Lodrok’s eyes flashed to the ground before meeting Talmitt’s eyes once more, “Tally?”

Talmitt smiled at the child’s nickname for her, “Yes?”

“…Was my mummy a human?”

“Yes. She was.”

The line of questioning usually ended there.

A satisfying ending for a boy who truly believed he was related to the goblin he called father.

It wasn’t until Lodrok was six that he learned…not the complete story of his origins, but enough to know that he was full human and not half like he did when he was five. He knew now- much to his horror- that Ranrok was not his biological father, and his real parents…his mother and human father were killed by another human.

He learned -in washed down terms- how he ended up in Ranrok’s care and though they were vastly different, Ranrok loved -in reality, came to love- Lodrok as his own and he held no regrets in taking Lodrok from his blood relatives.

“They wouldn’t have treated you well, lad.” Ranrok explained.

“Why not?” Lodrok asked, watching as his father scrubbed at a scuff mark on his boots.

Ranrok paused, “…Because you have magic in you.”

Lodrok frowned, “They don’t like my magic?” That was weird. Lodrok knew he couldn’t always control his bursts of accidental magic, but no one hated him for it…why would his blood relatives hate him for that?

“Not all humans have magic, son. Some get so jealous of those that do have it that they resort to hate.” Ranrok paused in his scrubbing, not missing the irony of his statement. A second later, he shook off the thought and returned to his cleaning.  

No.

Goblins weren’t jealous of wizards. It was the other way around.

Definitely.

At age seven, it was revealed that Lodrok needed glasses.

The discovery came not because he had been squinting during lessons or around the village- actually…there had been plenty of that lately, but that wasn’t the main giveaway.

The big reveal was when he ran into a tree. One he didn’t see until he ran face first into the trunk.

Lodrok’s eighth year was fairly uneventful.

He got into a fight with a goblin child, Gnash- a brute of a boy nearly two years older than Lodrok and who’s family was one of the few that still did not support Ranrok’s decision to bring a human into their midst. The fight was over a trivial disagreement, one that Gnash started…and Lodrok ended.

Of course, Gnash’s parents tried to twist the story and paint Lodrok as the aggressor, however, the ever-loyal Zuke and Minga came to Lodrok’s defense and insisted their side of the story was true. Once Gnash and his parent’s lies were exposed, Grizelda -Gnash’s mother- argued that Lodrok was bigger and stronger than Gnash and could have seriously hurt him and therefore, Lodrok must be held accountable and punished.

Ranrok however, believed his son and his friends. He added that even if Lodrok had the advantage of size, Gnash was still, not only the aggressor, but a boy that chose to pick on a group of peers that were younger than him.

“I believe that’s called ‘bullying’, Grizelda.” Talmitt said as she and Bognast flanked Ranrok and barricaded the children from Grizelda and her family.

Grizelda and her mate exchanged a look of rage before pulling their son away from the group, but not before sending a round of hisses at Lodrok.

When Lodrok turned nine, that’s when he found out about Lodgok.

Or at least, that when he found out about his uncle.

It was during a calm evening where Ranrok was polishing his armor while Lodrok assisted him. At one point, he asked Lodrok to go fetch him another cloth in his room.

Lodrok did as he was told and disappeared into his father’s room. He looked where Ranrok usually kept the cloths, but the drawer was empty. Everything that was usually in there was probably off being washed. So…Lodrok had no choice but to hunt around the room for a spare cloth that may have been hidden someplace else.

“Lodrok! Where are you, lad?” Ranrok called from the other room.

“Coming!” Lodrok called back. He pulled open a final draw and saw a lone red scarf neatly folded in its confinement. Lodrok grabbed it and ran back to his father. “I think everything else is out being washed.” He panted and held up the scarf, “Is this okay?”

Ranrok looked at the offered article and his eyes widened, “No, not that!” He reached out and pulled the scarf from his son’s hand and held it tenderly. “Not this, son…” Ranrok repeated, his voice softer than the harsh demand he had used just seconds earlier. “This ain’t for cleanin’.”

Lodrok clasped his hands behind his back in submission, “Sorry, dad. I couldn’t find anything else.”

Ranrok nodded with a heavy sigh.

“What is it, anyway?” Lodrok asked, watching as his father put away his cleaning supplies. That would have to wait till tomorrow.

Ranrok held up the article and shrugged, “It’s…it’s a scarf…of sorts.”

“Oh.” Lodrok studied the item. The ‘scarf’ didn’t look like it could keep anyone warm…if anything, it looked more for decoration than for actual use. It was also solid red and seemed to be stained with dirt and old sweat. Overall, unappealing, but…it obviously had some sort of sentimental value to his father, if his reaction was anything to go by.  “Who gave it to you?” Lodrok stepped closer to get a better look.

“It’s not mine.” Ranrok answered. He paused and corrected himself, “Actually, yes it’s ‘mine’, but it wasn’t…” His next words got caught in his throat and he looked up at his son. He wondered if he could and should tell Lodrok about Lodgok…about how he, Ranrok, killed his own brother.

But, as he looked into his son’s curious, green eyes, he thought of his little brother. The sole reason Lodrok was living and breathing today…

Lodgok deserved to be acknowledged. Lodrok deserved to know about his uncle- perhaps not how his uncle died, or who was responsible for his death, but…Lodrok should at least know who he was.

“It was your uncle’s. My little brother.” Ranrok stated at last.

Lodrok’s eyes widened, “Uncle?I I didn’t know I had an uncle!”

Ranrok winced. Had an uncle…

Seeing the pain in his father’s eyes, Lodrok sat crossed legged on the floor, looking up into Ranrok’s eyes, “What happened to him, dad?” he asked softly.

Ranrok’s eyes clenched shut and his face scrunched up as if he had been punched in the gut, “He died. Son.”

‘He didn’t just ‘die’ he was murdered!’ A tiny voice in the back of Ranrok’s head chided.

Lodrok’s face twisted into a look of sympathy, “How?” he asked innocently.

“He was killed.”

‘You did it.’

Lodrok gasped, “How?!” he leaned forward, “Who did it?!”

‘Me. It was me…’

Ranrok shook his head. He wasn’t ready to have this discussion. Not now.

“This isn’t something I want to discuss right now.” Ranrok said pushing himself to his feet, his chair scrapping across the wooden floor.

“But dad!”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older, Lodrok.” Ranrok said, stepping around his son and heading back to his room, the scarf in hand.

Lodrok watched his father go and called out one final question, “Can I at least know his name?” He begged. His father couldn’t just tell him he had an uncle and then not tell him anything about him. The least Lodrok deserved was a name.

Ranrok paused at his doorway before looking back at the young boy, “…Lodgok.” He said after a few tense seconds. “His name, was Lodgok.”

“Lodgok…” Lodrok repeated, a small smile spreading across his face. “Uncle Lodgok…”