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(P).(A).(T).(R).(E).(O).(N)
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"Very pleased to meet your acquaintance Miss Granger, my name is Harry Crow."
Hermione just started to babble as the words poured from her mouth. "Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard — I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough..."
The laughter coming from Harry certainly couldn't be classed as sarcastic, it seemed almost friendly in nature. "Relax Hermione, and breathe occasionally. We've a long train journey ahead of us, plenty of time to get to know each other and become friends."
Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Friends?"
"Oh, sorry if I'm being a bit presumptuous here, my main reason for attending Hogwarts is to hopefully make friends."
"Me too, and I would love to be your friend."
Both then sat and began their journey, not only to Hogwarts but the much more important destination of friendship.
Albus paced up and down his office, as jumpy as the proverbial cat on a hot tin roof. Harry Potter had been missing from the wizarding world for almost a decade, today would see his return. The goblins had kept a very close eye on the boy but this evening he would come back into Albus Dumbledore's domain, it only remained to see how much damage he would have to undo from the boy's unorthodox upbringing.
Albus intended to permanently wrench the boy away from the goblins, and had a scheme in place to achieve this at the first available opportunity. Tonight the boy would learn who the real power in magical Britain was, and it wasn't any goblin.
As the express sped them away from London, Harry was trying to make sure his new friend wasn't pulling his leg. "So your parents are a type of healer, but they only heal inside their patient's mouth?"
Hermione could hardly contain her laughter at Harry's disbelieving look. "Yes, that's what dentists do. I'll make a deal with you, you can ask me anything about muggles if I can do the same with you regarding purebloods?"
"I'm sorry but I can't do that, I'm not a pureblood Hermione."
"Oh, I just took it from the way you're dressed that's what purebloods wore."
Harry was looking wary at his new friend, he still wasn't sure whether this was some kind of wind-up. "I'm supposed to be dressed as a muggle, are you telling me this isn't right?"
This time Hermione couldn't hold her laughter, that was until she saw Harry's crestfallen appearance. "I'm sorry Harry, I thought you were making a joke there. Muggles used to wear clothes like that, but not for the best part of a century." She was desperate for more information but didn't want to push anything, Harry seemed really upset at her revelation.
"This is great, instead of blending in with one group of students I'm going to stand out like a sore thumb. The tailors made exact copies of the styles in the muggle studies books, how could they be wrong?"
Hermione had an idea what had gone wrong but needed to make sure. "Did they get those books from Diagon Alley?" Harry's nod was all the conformation she needed. "My mother thought that would at least be one subject she could understand so bought a few of the books, mum said they were some of the funniest things she'd ever read. All of the information in them is about a century out of date, and even then some of it was wrong. She reckoned that the authors had never actually met someone without magic."
"Well, that's just great. Director Ragnok named me Old Crow, he would probably have been better calling me Bertie Bott!" He saw the questioning look on Hermione's face before remembering she knew a lot less about the magical community than he did, it was time to tell her the story.
"Bertie Bott's is a type of sweet that comes in every flavour, that describes me perfectly. My mum was like you, muggleborn while my dad was a pureblood. Both gave their lives to save mine when I was just a toddler. I can't remember anything about them and now my adoptive father is a goblin. As I said, the goblin leader named me Old Crow, due to the way I ended up in Gringotts. My father calls me Harry Crow but my mum and dad named their new born baby Harry James Potter..." He couldn't miss the gasp that came from Hermione at that revelation.
"So, as you can imagine, I have a foot in many camps but don't know which one I belong to... I had hoped to honour my mother's memory by dressing like this today but it looks like that's gone now."
Hermione couldn't help herself, without even thinking about her actions, she had moved across the carriage to sit beside Harry and already had him in a hug. "Oh Harry, you know I'll help you any way I can."
He was as stiff as a board, goblins didn't do hugs. As Hermione offered her assurance of assistance, Harry began to relax and think that the goblins had got at least one thing wrong - this was nice. For some reason he trusted this girl, his first real friend, and began to tell her more than he'd intended to reveal.
"When my parents were murdered, I was dumped on the doorstep of my mother's muggle sister. They didn't want me so did a deal with Gringotts where the goblins will look after me until I'm old enough to take up the responsibilities of heading House Potter. I have this weird mixed heritage and soon I'll be forced to make a decision, just where does my future lie."
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Welcome to the world of our fanfic! Your support is the heartbeat of this story, allowing us to craft new adventures and explore deeper character arcs. With over 55 chapters ahead, becoming a patron gives you exclusive access to bonus content and the chance to influence the narrative's direction.
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(P).(A).(T).(R).(E).(O).(N)
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