The young lord would be in the same year as him at Hogwarts. If he could befriend and make an ally in him, his father would no doubt be most pleased. And all he had to do to set his plan in motion was to make a good first impression on the young lord. However, as he reeled with the possibilities, the boy turned to him and glared angrily.
"Are you questioning my ascension?" Harry demanded coldly. Draco's mind screeched to a halt with that annoyed question, and he quickly began to panic.
"No!" Draco exclaimed, before rapidly backpedalling. "No, certainly not! Forgive me, my lord, I meant no offence..." Harry stared at Draco, enjoying the small beads of perspiration on his forehead as he waited on his response, before nodding curtly.
"Very well," Harry replied coolly, "your apology is accepted, and no offence is taken." Draco sighed in relief.
"Thank you, my lord." Draco said, offering a small, careful bow, as he was still balanced atop the stool. "It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Draco Malfoy, heir to the Noble House of Malfoy." Harry nodded to his one time rival.
"A pleasure, Master Malfoy, and I am Duke Gryffindor." Harry appraised the young wizard for a moment, before continuing. "What year are you in at Hogwarts?"
"This will be my first year, my lord," Draco answered, offering a smile. Harry lips curled into a small smile.
"Then we will be classmates," Harry said warmly.
"And hopefully friends as well!" Draco exclaimed, pleased that Harry seemed to be warming to him. "We will almost certainly be in the same house! After all, Slytherin is the best house, and it's always the right sort that gets placed there!" Though he knew exactly what the boy meant, Harry feigned a look of confusion and spoke.
"The right sort?" Harry asked curiously. Draco nodded.
"Yeah," the blond haired boy continued, "you know, the purebloods! Those with impeccable bloodlines! None of the riff raff." He smiled at Harry. "With your heritage, I am sure you will be sorted there." As Draco explained, Harry's face darkened and his cold demeanour returned.
"I put little stock into a person's parentage, Master Malfoy," Harry intoned frostily, "and instead judge them on their character, mind, and merit. I do not mindlessly condemn someone because they are not from an ancient line..." he glared at Draco, "nor do I befriend someone simply because they claim to be pureblood." The blood drained from Draco's face, as he realised he had crossed a line.
"F-forgive me, my lord," Draco stuttered, "no insult to yourself was intended..." Harry's glare did not lessen.
"But insult was taken," Harry snapped, "and not so easily forgiven." He stared at Draco, watching as the pale boy squirmed under his gaze. "I value those who think for themselves, and search for truth, instead of parroting lies they have been taught. You wish to be friends, but it remains to be seen if we can be so." He frowned thoughtfully. "I suppose we shall see in time." With that said Harry turned away from Draco and stared off at a nearby rack of clothing on display.
Draco stared at the back of the young lord, utterly speechless. How had he messed everything up so quickly? As he reflected over the conversation, his mind kept returning to Duke Gryffindor's dismissal of blood being important. This was completely contrary to everything he had been taught.
His father, Lucius Malfoy, had always told him that there was strength and power in the purity of one's blood, and that purity needed to be protected. He had been raised on stories of the weak blooded half bloods and muggleborns, who were determined to destroy their way of life.
Duke Gryffindor, however, who should have been the epitome of the pureblood ideal, dismissed the value of blood out of hand. Instead, he chose to value personality and accomplishments over heritage. The only way to befriend and get close to Duke Gryffindor was to accept his view as truth, and doing that would betray his upbringing and way of life. He desperately wished to befriend the boy, but was the price worth it? Was betraying his family worth it? Draco was conflicted, but a sudden realisation cut through his crisis.
'He didn't say I had to accept his view,' Draco thought to himself, 'just that I needed to think for myself and seek the truth.' A small smile grew on his face and he nodded.
He would look for the truth.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry watched as Draco seemed to turn inwards and lost all focus on his surroundings. He hoped that he had done enough to get his one time rival to think for himself, and perhaps avoid having to butt heads with him down the line.
Shortly afterwards, Madam Malkin returned from the back room and finished taking Draco's clothing measurements. The boy absently paid for his clothing, said he would return for it later, and left the shop.
The tailor then turned her attention to Harry, festooning him with a variety of robes to cover him in school and in formal magical occasions. She also provided him with some casual magical and muggle clothing, which would save him having to venture into muggle London to buy comfortable regular clothing.
It was while looking through some of the muggle clothing the shop had available, that Harry noticed a more unusual item on display. On the head of a muggle-dressed mannequin in the shop window was a Stetson hat. Given that it was extremely out of place next to the other shop stock, Harry had asked Madam Malkin about it.
"Excuse me, Madam Malkin?" Harry called.
"Yes, my lord?" She replied, hurrying over to her prestigious client.
"What can you tell me about the hat in your window display?" Harry asked curiously. As soon as the woman fixed her eyes on it, she huffed in annoyance.
"Oh, that hat," she muttered, as she lifted it down, "what a complete waste of money. I purchased it to sell in my shop with some other muggle clothing, but no one has wanted to buy it! I put it in the display with the hopes someone would see it." She sighed. "No such luck." She passed it to him to look at.
Harry held the hat in his hands and stared at it, occasionally turning it over in his hands. He remembered watching an old American Western film on the television as a child. He hadn't been able to watch it long before his aunt had chased him from the room, but what he did see stuck in his mind.
The cowboys in the film, wearing hats much like the one he now beheld, looked so free and liberated. They were able to roam the vast wilderness of America at will, going days without seeing anyone at all. A part of Harry wished he could live like that, free from his relatives and with no restrictions. He knew, of course, that his life couldn't be like that. Like it or not, he was special, and he had a job to do.
Still, it wouldn't hurt to pretend for a little while.
As Harry looked down at the hat, a small smile grew over his face. Lifting it up, he placed it atop his head, and walked over to a nearby mirror. It was a little big, made to fit an adult, but he would grow into it, no doubt. Suddenly, the hat began to shrink until it sat on his head snugly. He hadn't noticed Madam Malkin walk up behind him and tap the hat with her wand.
"How is that?" She asked amusedly, seeing how much Harry liked the unusual hat. Turning to her with a twinkle in his eye, he gave her a boyish grin.
"It's perfect," Harry replied, "I'll take it."
And so a hat box was added to his collection of clothing for Hogwarts. As for the rest of his outfits, most of them would not be ready for a few hours. Madam Malkin, however, seeing the dreadful condition of the clothing Harry was already wearing, was able to rush some casual magical apparel he could wear about the alley, meaning he could change and dispose of Dudley's cast offs.
After finishing in the tailors shop, Harry set off to acquire the other bits and pieces on his shopping list. His rapid progress through the list was halted, however, as he entered Flourish and Blotts Book shop. Taking his resolution to improve himself to heart, Harry took to haunting the shelves in search of books which could be useful in the coming years.
Harry was able to acquire many interesting tomes, aside from his textbooks, including some fascinating defence against the dark arts books, and manuscripts on pureblood customs and magical lordships. The latter books would come in very handy to learn how to act the part of a lord in the magical world. Harry held no delusions that there was anything to the pureblood philosophy, but since he was a magical lord, he needed to know how to present himself.
Upon reaching the counter and quickly realising that he simply did not have the capacity to haul his new collection of books, Harry hastened off to Coffer and Lockerby's Luggage Emporium to purchase a trunk he could take to school. Unlike his original trunk, however, he paid a bit extra to have extendable enchantments placed on it, to greatly increase its capacity.
Shortly after Harry returned to retrieve his new books, Hagrid returned from the Leaky Cauldron, having sufficiently calmed his stomach. With his half-giant friend escorting him once more, the rest of the shopping turned out much the same as it had originally.
With the exception of a short break to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, Harry and Hagrid made short work acquiring the rest of the equipment needed for school. They worked their way through the list until they came at last to perhaps the most important part: the purchase of Harry's wand from Ollivanders.
From Harry's perspective very little changed from his first time around. He entered the dusty, cramped shop alone, as Hagrid had begged off to go to another shop. The proprietor very quickly made himself known, startling Harry as he seemed to appear out of nowhere.
Much as before, Ollivander offered Harry several wands in search of the perfect fit. As before, however, wand after wand went by without finding it. As the old wand maker searched through the many boxes he had stacked to the ceiling, Harry wished he could just tell him to try a phoenix feather wand.
Finally, however, after about ten minutes, Ollivander hesitated as he came across a certain box. Carefully lifting it down and opening it, he gingerly handed Harry his old companion, his holly and phoenix feather wand.
As before, the moment it touched his fingers, he felt a sudden rush of warmth. With a swish, a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end of the wand, like a firework. Letting out a cry of triumph, the wand maker clapped his hands excitedly.
"Ah, bravo!" Ollivander exclaimed, upon seeing the reaction from the wand. "Yes, indeed, oh, very good." He paused for a moment, considering the wand. "Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious..."
"Sorry," Harry said, despite already knowing the answer, "but what's curious?"
"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr Potter." Ollivander replied, fixing Harry with his pale stare. "Every single wand. It just so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather... just one other. It is curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand, when its brother... nearly ended your life."
Though Harry already knew what the old wand maker was going to say, the unsettling and overly dramatic way he said it sent a shiver up his spine, and he swallowed. Ollivander continued to speak, though said nothing that he had not the first time around.
"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew." Ollivander murmured. "Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr Potter... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things... terrible, yes, but great." Harry remained silent for a moment, before speaking.
"Well," Harry replied, "I shall make sure not to disappoint."
Desperately wanting to be done with the creepy wizard, Harry paid seven galleons for his wand, one galleon for a wand cleaning kit, and another two for a wand holster he could strap to his wrist. In the back of his mind, Harry remembered the chastisement he had received from Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, about leaving his wand in his back pocket.
A gentle rap on the window drew both of their attentions away from what they were doing, and they turned to look. Upon seeing who had made the noise, Harry's eyes widened. Just outside of the shop stood Hagrid, holding a large metal bird cage up to the glass. And inside the cage was a sight that made Harry's heart soar.
One of his dearest friends: the beautiful snowy owl Hedwig. As soon as their eyes met, a wide smile grew across Harry's face. Quickly finishing his business with Ollivander, he hastened outside to meet his friend.
"Happy Birthday, Harry," Hagrid exclaimed, holding the cage out to Harry.
With trembling hands, Harry reached out and took the cage from Hagrid, his eyes never leaving the amber orbs of his familiar. Gently, he reached his finger through the bars and stopped just short of touching her. The as yet unnamed Hedwig regarded his finger briefly, before letting out a single hoot, leaning forwards and rubbing her head against it. After stroking her for a moment, Harry turned back to Hagrid.
"Thank you," Harry murmured, his voice thick with emotion. Hagrid beamed in response.
After that, they only had a few more supplies to pick up before they were done. They returned to Potage's Cauldron Shop to pick up a pewter cauldron, stopped by Slug and Jiggers Apothecary to buy a potions kit and ingredients, and whipped into Scribbulus Writing Instruments to grab stationary for school.
With that last purchase, Harry had acquired all the supplies he needed to attend Hogwarts in September. Now, however, came the part he had been dreading. Harry had no intention of returning to the loving hands of the Dursley family, but he needed to convince Hagrid to let him stay in the Alley. Doing so would not be easy, he knew.
Harry had no doubts that Dumbledore had instructed Hagrid to bring him to Diagon Alley to get his supplies, and then bring him straight home. He would have been told to not let Harry out of his sight, only allow him to get what was necessary, and not leave him alone with anyone else. Hagrid, however, had already disobeyed most of those restrictions, so Harry hoped that the half-giant would at the very least, listen to him.
While Harry was pondering how to brooch the subject, Hagrid led Harry over to a quiet side of the street and put down the various bags and items they had accumulated while shopping. After briefly stretching his back, the half-giant turned to him and spoke.
"Alrigh' Harry," Hagrid said with a sigh, clearly tired from a long day, "are yer ready to go home?" The young wizard bit his lip and hesitated, drawing a concerned frown from the half-giant. "Somethin' the matter?"
"Er, Hagrid?" Harry began unsurely. "I...I'm not going back to the Dursley's." Hagrid looked taken aback at the reply.
"What do yer mean, Harry?" Hagrid asked, surprised. "Yer need to go home. They're your family..." A look of anger passed over Harry's face.
"They are not my family!" Harry shot back heatedly. A look of hurt passed over the half-giant's face, and Harry sighed regretfully. "I...I'm sorry, Hagrid, I didn't mean to snap at you, especially after all you have done today." He smiled at the man. "You've been so kind and helpful, leading me through this new world, and..." he paused, turning to look and grin at the beautiful snowy owl in her cage, "you bought me the first birthday present I can ever remember getting." The half-giant's eyes widened at that revelation.
"F-first birthday present?" Hagrid asked in horrified dismay.
How could his own relatives not have bought him a gift for his birthday in the last nine years? He knew the Dursley's were the worst sort of people, but the more he found out about them, the more he grew to despise them. Harry, meanwhile, seemed not to notice Hagrid's mounting shock, and continued speaking.
"Yes," Harry replied, retrieving an owl treat from one of the bags, and holding it through the bars for the soon-to-be-named Hedwig, "though even if I had gotten a gift before, none of them could have compared to her." The snowy owl hooted in appreciation, before nibbling the provided treat. Harry then turned his attention back to the man. "Hagrid, thanks to you, today has easily been the best day of my life!" A part of Hagrid was pleased that the child had enjoyed himself, but another part was livid about what he was learning concerning his blood relatives, the Dursley's.
"Well," Hagrid said after a moment, "I'm glad yer had a good day, an that yer like yer present," Harry beamed up at the half-giant, "but what will yer do if yer not going back home?" A determined expression came over his face.
"I'm going to stay here in Diagon Alley." Harry replied, with little hesitation. "I have business with Gringotts, so I will need to go back there regularly anyway, so it makes sense that I just stay here. I mean, there must be a hotel or something here, mustn't there?" Hagrid nodded.
"Yer can stay at the Leaky Cauldron," Hagrid provided helpfully. "It looks a bit grim on the outside, but it's alright on the inside. It's not too expensive, neither." He shot a concerned look at Harry. "Are yer sure yer'll be alright by yerself, though?" Harry nodded.
"I'm sure," the young wizard replied, "I don't intend to leave the alley, and I'll be careful while I'm here." His face darkened and he sighed. "I can't go back there, Hagrid. Not now I know there is somewhere safer...somewhere better." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheaf of parchment. "You know I asked to see my parent's will?" Hagrid nodded.
"Yeah, I remember." Hagrid answered, confused. Harry unfolded the document and pulled out one page, before handed it to the half-giant.
"Read the last paragraph of section seven..." Harry said darkly.
Still nonplussed, Hagrid took the parchment and began to scan through the text. He quickly found the aforementioned section and read through it. His brow furrowed into a frown as he read, he occasionally muttered parts under his breath.
"We direct...unable or unwilling..." Hagrid murmured, "...guardianship should...not pass to Petunia Dursley?" His eyes widened, and he continued to read. "His safety would not be guaranteed in her household..." the half-giant shook his head, "I don't understand, Lily and James knew about the Dursley's? Then why..."
"The will was witnessed by five people," Harry explained. "Remus Lupin has vanished, Sirius Black is in prison for causing the death of my parents, and Lord and Lady Longbottom are, unfortunately, incapacitated. That leaves only one person," his face was angry, as he spoke the final name, "Albus Dumbledore." Hagrid looked taken aback.
"Dumbledore?" He exclaimed, deeply shocked. "No, it can't be! He put yer at the Dursley's when you were a baby. There must be a mistake! He's a good man, is Dumbledore!" Harry shook his head and passed him the final page of the document.
"Look at the witnesses section, Hagrid," Harry argued, "his name is there!" Hagrid hesitantly took the piece of parchment and read the section.
"No," Hagrid whispered, reading the names, "it can't be. But...this is an official Gringotts document too, it can't be forged..." he shook his head in despair. "Why did he put yer with those...people?"
"I don't know," Harry replied quietly, "but I do know I can't go back there." He looked up at the half-giant in distress, tears building in his eyes. "Please don't make me go back." Seeing the child's vulnerable side coming back to the fore, Hagrid knelt down and placed his hands on his shoulders.
"Harry, yer listen ter me," Hagrid said firmly, "I don't know everything about how they treat yer, or why Dumbledore did what he did, but since I've gotten ter know yer, I think I know enough. I ain't going to make yer go back there if yer don't want ter, Dumbledore be damned." A look of hope and joy grew over Harry's face, and he threw himself at the half-giant in a hug.
"Thank you, Hagrid," Harry replied tearfully, "thank you so much. Thank you for the cake, thank you for bringing me to Diagon, thank you for my present, and thank you for freeing me from the Dursley's. You're such a good friend." A wave of emotion passed over Hagrid and he began to tear up too.
"S'alright Harry," Hagrid said emotionally, his voice hitching, "don't mention it." After holding the boy for a moment, he stood back up and sniffed, wiping his eyes with a polka-dot handkerchief he pulled from his pocket. "I'm glad yer won't be going back to those bloody Dursley's..." Harry flinched slightly and nodded.
"Me too," Harry said quietly. After stashing his handkerchief back into one of his pockets, he started leading Harry back to the pub.
"Right then," Hagrid announced, "let's head back to the Cauldron. I'll go talk ter Tom, get yer all set up with a room. I'll ask him to keep an eye on yer, too." Harry nodded gratefully in understanding.
"Ok, Hagrid," he murmured.
With that, Hagrid lead Harry back to the Leaky Cauldron to arrange his room. After a short conversation with Tom, the owner of the pub, Harry had his new accommodation for the remainder of the summer. The old barman was thrilled to have the Boy-Who-Lived staying in his establishment, and took Hagrid's request to keep him safe very seriously. He would make sure that Harry would not come to harm while waiting for the 1st September.
After helping shift Harry's newly bought supplies up into his room and getting him settled, Hagrid pulled a large watch out of his pocket and looked at the time. The afternoon was over and it was well into the evening. With a tired and reluctant sigh, the half-giant rubbed his beard and looked to Harry.
"Right then," Hagrid said regretfully, "I guess I'd best be headin' off." He scratched his head thoughtfully for a moment. "Don't know what I'm going ter tell Dumbledore about all this, but I'll think of somethin'."
"Just tell him the truth," Harry replied. "Tell him that you took me to buy all my things for Hogwarts, but I haven't gone back to the Dursley's. He doesn't need to know where I am staying, though I imagine he will find out eventually. I'll get to the station alright." Hagrid nodded in agreement.
"Alright, Harry," the half-giant said, before darkening, "don't know if I'm going ter be able ter see Dumbledore without hittin' him!" Harry chuckled, and Hagrid smiled. "I'll try an pop in from time ter time, ter keep an eye on yer. An if yer need me, just send me a letter with yer new owl." Harry nodded.
"Alright Hagrid, I will." Harry promised, before hugging the half-giant again. "Thank you again, and I'll see you at Hogwarts."
With that said, Hagrid handed Harry his ticket to ride the Hogwarts Express from Platform 9 ¾ and left Harry's rented room with a cheery wave. As he walked down the corridor, Harry crept after him and cast a whispered Obliviate spell at his back.
Rubeus Hagrid was a wonderful man. Never had Harry known a kinder person or truer friend, but he knew that the half-giant could not keep a secret. If he had a drink later at the Three Broomsticks, he could very easily drunkenly blurt out the information.
Even if he made a conscious decision to keep Harry's location a secret, though, it wouldn't make a difference. Dumbledore would almost certainly play dirty, and just pull it from Hagrid's mind. The best defence was for the information to simply not be there.
Still, Harry's justifications did not deaden the feeling of guilt he felt manipulating an old friend like that. He had to hope it was worth it.
Albus Dumbledore was not pleased. In a matter of hours, his day had gone from perfectly fine to catastrophically wrong.
When he had awoken that morning and entered his office, Dumbledore had been greeted by the usual whirring and chuffing of the many silver instruments he kept on shelves around the room. While most visitors saw these items as nothing more than the eccentric whimsy of the old wizard, they actually had a more sinister purpose.
The instruments were, in fact, used to monitor and report on the life of the person they were bound to by blood ritual. In this case, they were bound to Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. They analysed everything about him, from his movements to his current state, both physical and mental.
They were truly something of an Orwellian nightmare.
It was later in the afternoon, after finally returning to his office, that Dumbledore noticed something amiss. Sat as his desk, he looked up and surveyed the room, trying to see what had changed. When his eyes fell upon his silver instruments, he froze in shock.
The objects, so crucial in his observation of the Boy-Who-Lived, had fallen silent. Abruptly, he stood from his chair and swept over to the shelf, scooping up one of the items and returning to his desk. Dumbledore studied it carefully before poking and prodding it, wondering if it had been damaged somehow. Strangely, it appeared to be perfectly intact, not a scratch on it. He then drew his wand and performed diagnostic spells, to try and pin down why exactly it had stopped functioning. Nothing.
The old wizard sat back in his chair and frowned, deep in thought. As far as he knew, there were only two ways the spells on the instruments could fail, but both were impossible. The first, someone had performed an advanced curse-breaking spell on Harry, breaking the bond to the objects. The second, Harry Potter had somehow...died.
The latter was so unlikely, that it could be dismissed out of hand. After all, Dumbledore had received a letter from Rubeus Hagrid only that morning, informing him that Harry Potter had been found, his acceptance letter delivered, and that they would be shopping for his supplies in due course. If the boy had somehow died in the ensuing few hours, the old wizard would likely have heard by now.
Which left the former, that someone had removed the connection to his items. Who would and could have done so, however? Finding the spells would require an in-depth magical diagnostic, not something that would normally be performed on a whim. They would have had to know what to look for prior to meeting Harry, which was impossible.
Instead of continuing to conjecture on the matter further, Dumbledore opted to wait for Hagrid to return to the school, and question him. However, when the half-giant eventually returned, Dumbledore realised that far more must have occurred that he initially suspected.
The groundskeeper was remarkably curt in his responses, and was reticent to offer any useful information. Instead, Hagrid looked extremely agitated and annoyed with him, though did not offer an explanation as to why. This came as a huge shock to Dumbledore, as the half-giant had been one of his most steadfast supporters over the years. He had to know what had changed.
It was notoriously difficult to perform legilimency on magical creatures, particularly those with giant blood. Fortunately, Dumbledore was one of the few legilimencers in the country who could gleam even the smallest amount of information from them. What he found out from Hagrid, however, boiled his blood.
From what he could gather, while visiting Gringotts it seemed that Harry had been able to view the Last Will and Testament of his parents, and thus come into his inheritance. The goblins had no doubt allowed the boy to claim the earldom of his father, resulting in his legal emancipation. This, Dumbledore knew, would present problems down the line, but could be managed carefully.
Furthermore, it appeared that Harry had allowed Hagrid to view the will document. As it transpired, the source of the half-giant's anger was the revelation that Dumbledore had placed Harry illegally with his relatives, the Dursley's, which had lead to their abusing the child. This was less of an issue, as he could easily prune Hagrid's memories of the day to omit that unfortunate information.
It would need to wait until tomorrow, however, as Dumbledore had no intention of trying to perform magic on an angry giant, even just a half-giant. Unfortunately for the old wizard, his choice to delay altering Hagrid's memory would allow the groundskeeper to share this information before it was removed.
Dumbledore would not realise his mistake for some time.
The only piece of information that Dumbledore was unable to find was perhaps the most important. He knew that the child had not gone back to his relatives, but he did not know the current location of the Boy-Who-Lived.
While Harry could have easy fled and hidden himself away, Dumbledore thought it far more likely that he had simply remained in Diagon Alley. This, however, presented its own set of problems. The Alley was too public for him to simply swoop in and capture the boy, particularly if Harry had made allies.
All it would take was for the boy to cry foul, and far too many eyes would start looking at the situation. If someone from the Ministry or Merlin forbid a reporter, were to discover that Harry was emancipated, accusations of kidnap would start flying thick and fast. That would put him in a very precarious position.
It was after dismissing Hagrid from his office, to give him time to ponder the situation further that his day took another sharp downward turn. While Dumbledore sat as his desk, thinking about what he had learned, a brown owl swept through his window and dropped a letter on his desk. Upon picking it up and seeing the sigil on the wax seal, the old wizard let out a tired sigh. Breaking the seal, he unfolded the letter and began to read.
Gringotts Wizarding Bank
Fortius Quo Fidelius
British Banking Division
Office of the Director
Dear Mr Albus Dumbledore,
I am writing to you regarding the accounts of one of your charges, His Grace, Harry Potter Ravenclaw Gryffindor, Duke of Godric's Hollow.
As you have been repeatedly notified, as the magical guardian of His Grace, our accountants have discovered several discrepancies with His Grace's accounts. As of yet, however, you have not given us permission to launch an investigation or audit of these accounts.
Today, His Grace visited the London branch of Gringotts, and was invited to a meeting with myself to discuss the issue. This meeting revealed a great deal more than I had initially suspected, namely your complete absence as a magical guardian, total disregard for the Last Will and Testament of the former Lord and Lady Potter, and the illegal placement of His Grace with unfit mundane guardians.
I shall not put pen to paper regarding some of the more unfortunate revelations, namely the conditions His Grace was forced to live in. Rest assured, however, that these matters will not be ignored or forgotten. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement has already been notified, and will be launching an investigation.
The goblins of Gringotts will also do our part, as His Grace has given us the permission you denied, to investigate the discrepancies with his accounts. Further, we have sufficient grounds to launch an investigation of your own accounts, and shall do so immediately.
As the subject of a Gringotts investigation, your accounts are hereby frozen until the conclusion of the enquiry. Should we find any connection between yourself and the issues with the accounts of His Grace, rest assured that we will take swift action.
Yours Sincerely,
P. Ragnok
Director of Gringotts Bank, British Banking Division
By the time Dumbledore had finished reading the letter, his hands were trembling in barely suppressed rage. With a snarl of uncharacteristic anger, he tore the letter in two and threw the pieces across the room. However, before he could take out his fury on anything else, the old wizard took a deep breath and placed his palms flat on his desk.
After taking some time to calm himself, Dumbledore let out a sigh of relief and sat back in his chair. Reaching over to his ceramic sweet bowl, he picked up a lemon drop and popped it into his mouth.
He remained silent for a time with his eyes closed, enjoying the taste of the tart confection, before finally letting out a quiet chuckle.
"Oh, Harry, Harry, Harry," the old wizard muttered darkly, "what have you done?"