Debts (1)

Title: Debts
Author: Genna Gray
Fandom/Genre: Harry Potter
Relationship[s]: Gen, Pre-slash [Maybe]
Content Rating: MA [Just in-case]
Warnings: Swearing, Flashbacks, Violence
Disclaimer: I will not or plan to make any money off of this, this was written in fun for fun and nothing more.
Summary: Since the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament Harry has had a lot of time on his hands – between being banished back to the Dursley’s, no contact with his friends of Godfather, and pretty much ignored – Harry stumbles across a key piece of information that could change his entire world.
And piss of most of the Wizarding world.
AN: This was for Rough Trade, June 2014, Boot Camp
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     “We are here today,” Amelia Bones, Head Auror, said solemnly in the packed and deathly silent court-room. “Is to over-see and judge two men – no-more and no-less. And I will have quiet in my court-room or I will force to expel you – is this understood?”
     The entire auditorium was dead silence despite the fact that there were a few hundred witches and wizards in attendance. Harry swallowed nervously and wiped the palms of his hands against his jeans to get rid of the sweat – everything was riding on this one moment, this one trial, and Harry couldn’t afford to have it all screwed up because of nerves.
     Taking a deep breath Harry focused on his breathing, shutting everything else out until it faded away, only when the shaking in his hands stopped did Harry let everything tune back in. Feeling better, still shaky and somewhat scared – which was silly considering what Harry had faced in his life, Harry focused on the judge, Bones, and started to pay attention.
     They were still at the announcement phase of things, Harry didn’t need to pay attention to that since it wasn’t that important in the long run – he already knew what was being said any-way since Harry had been the one to hand over all the other information he had. So, instead, Harry focused on the people around him and their reactions.
     Most of the people in the court-room Harry didn’t recognize but he could easily divide the room into three camps from who they were sitting with alone. Anyone sitting with Malfoy and his cronies, the adult versions of Harry’s own class-mates, Harry knew were here on Voldemort’s orders to spy and report what exactly was going on and how Harry acted. [Harry couldn't resist shooting Malfoy a challenging look - because if this went the way Harry hoped then it was going to be Malfoy's turn next.]
     The second camp was obviously those sitting next to Dumbledore and those next to the Weasley’s – Harry flashed a nervous looking Ginny a smile and she tentatively smiled back at him – and Harry outright ignored Dumbledore’s sad and disapproving frown. What was happening now was utterly and completely Dumbledore’s fault – he couldn’t be rat-arsed enough to insist on a trial in the first place but raised all sorts of hell for Voldemort’s flunky’s.
     Harry was going to clean up Dumbledore’s mess’ and it was going to start with Sirius first.
     “I have looked over all the evidence, talked with all the parties involved, and have come to my own conclusion,” Bones began after rattling her gavel. “But according to Ministry law the accused and convicted deserve to have a trial judged by their peer’s – thus we have assembled the Wizengamot for this purpose. We will begin with our first witness – Harry Potter.”
     Harry closed his eyes briefly before opening them and made his way to the stand, an overly large chair with chains that were faintly rattling when he approached it and sat down. Harry took out his wand and laid it down in front of him, the Potter Athame and the Potter Scion ring joined his wand – it was an old but pointless ritual in Harry’s mind but to anyone in attendance it showed that Harry was leaving himself bare of all things important – magic, life, and honor – so that the truth could be told and only the truth.
     Feeling all the truth-spells settle on him, like a slimy slick pond-scrum, Harry resisted the urge to fidget as he was sworn in. Harry raised his chin when Bones leaned forward to look at him over her glasses before speaking, “This is a serious matter that you have brought before the court – as such it is taken seriously, as is you, and I will not allow any games to be played here in any form or fashion.”
     “Yes ma’am,” Harry said softly and nodded. “I’m not playing games and I understand that this is a serious matter – I wouldn’t waste this court, any court’s time if I wasn’t.”
      “See that you do,” Bones shuffled some parchment around before clearing her throat. “Explain to us, to the court how you know both of the accused and convicted?”
     Harry knew this was coming and mentally sorted his thoughts out briefly before speaking of his third year and the circumstances that went on – everything from being warned about Sirius Black by Mister Weasley up to when the Dementor’s tried to take his Godfather’s soul and the Patronus that he called forth. Harry left nothing out, he couldn’t, and it was one of the key pieces of information that Barrister Shelton had told Harry – to tell the truth and nothing but even if it hurt or was embarrassing, to not dodge or dance around a question verbally, and to not lose his temper.
     If Harry could do all three things that Barrister Shelton said that they had a chance.
     Harry only stopped talking when he was done describing the escape of Sirius from Hogwarts – his full and total involvement, as well as Hermione’s – and while Harry felt a little bit bad for it, he didn’t care. Not really. Not since none of his friends had been bothered to contact or write to him up until yesterday when the notices for the trials came out – and while Harry could excuse Ron for not trying, Harry couldn’t give Hermione the same. The girl was born and raised in the muggle-world, just like Harry was, and she knew his physical address – it wouldn’t have taken much to mail a letter through muggle-post.
      “Order! I will have order!” Bones shouted to calm the mutters and mumbles that had started nearly soon as Harry first started speaking and continued through his entire testimony. “Is this how you became aware of the accused Mister Potter?”
     “Yes ma’am,” Harry nodded and held his hands tightly in his lap to hide how the shakes had started up again. “That’s when I first learned more about the circumstances surrounding my parents death and who caused it – but I met them both later on the next year, last year.”
     “And what exactly were those circumstances?” Bones arched a brow and something in Harry’s stomach relaxed. He didn’t know how or why but Harry just knew that Bones was on his side of things and was trying her best to give Sirius a fair trial. “Can you tell the court of all the interactions you have had with the accused and convicted since then? Up until this court-session today?”
      Harry nodded, he licked his lips and pushed the court-room from his mind and began speaking again.
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      Harry wanted to be clear about this, extremely clear, that it wasn’t Hermione’s idea in any way, shape or form – that this was something Harry had come up with on his own without any help whatsoever from anybody.
     It was just- Harry had a lot of time on his hands after the end of Forth year, between nightmares about Cedric’s death and then what happened during the ritual afterwards that allowed Voldemort to rise again…after the third time his uncle smacked him around for waking up Number 4 with his screams Harry learned to doze during what little sleep he did get and spent the rest of the time awake.
     And there was only so many times Harry could do and re-do his homework when he wasn’t being worked to the bone with summer chores. So Harry spent most of his nights reading his textbooks – at first skimming them, looking for something interesting to read, but then in-depth from cover to cover and that was where Harry stumbled across something that was very interesting.
     Harry might not have been allowed to contact his friends but that didn’t mean Harry couldn’t send a few letter’s off. A few days later the faint idea that had taken root in Harry’s mind came together and Harry had to plan what he was about to do very carefully since one mistake, one wrong move would ruin anything and Harry would never have the same chance again.
     So Harry waited, and waited, and waited some more until he had memorized his watcher’s schedule down to nearly the exact second they switched off – Mundungus Fletcher always showed up for shift but always left ten minutes afterwards for the rest of it. He didn’t show back up again until ten minutes before the switch had to occur again and Tonks took over – who was always a bit late to her shift. This little break only granted Harry four hours all told – from the time Fletcher disappeared until he reappeared again – and Harry needed to make those hours count.
     The hours leading up to his escape Harry did nothing differently – he did his chores, ate his extremely meager meal, and read a book. But that didn’t mean Harry wasn’t prepared; his Invisibility Cloak was stuffed under his pillow along with the make-shift rope-ladder Harry had constructed out of old sheet’s, and his key to his vault was stuffed into his pocket. As soon as Fletcher was gone Harry was going out the window and making a run for the playground several blocks over – it was the only way to get out of range in-case he was being monitored for magic use.
     Harry had been sure if summoning the Knight Bus would have been considered using magic or which alarms would be set off if it was so Harry wasn’t about to risk it.
     Hearing the back-firing of a car, Harry flicked his eyes up to stare at the side-walk across from Number 4 in time to get a glimpse of two shimmer’s before another back-fire. Harry looked back down at his book hurriedly as he waited for Fletcher to leave, his heart pounding away in his chest, and his muscles locked up tight like a slowly tightening coil of tension.
     If he was wrong, if Fletcher switched shift’s…
     The sound of the back-fire wasn’t even as loud as before but it still made Harry jump in his seat anyway and have his heart skip a beat.
     “Merlin,” Harry cursed softly under his breath and rubbed at his chest to calm his heart down. Knowing he was wasting time Harry threw his book onto his bed and leaned forward to push open his bedroom window; Harry reached under his pillow and secured the end of the rope to his be before tossing the end of it out the window. His cloak was tossed over his shoulder and Harry was climbing out the window before he could talk himself out of it.
     It was only twenty-feet, Harry told himself as he gripped the rope, he had fallen from father off his broom with no problems. Telling himself that didn’t make the twenty-feet seem any closer so Harry took a deep breath, held the rope even tighter and pushed off from the sill. It was like flying, for a brief moment when Harry felt weightless, before gravity kicked in and he slide down the rope. Landing in a sprawl along the base of the house Harry was winded enough it took a couple of seconds to get his breath back.
     But once Harry did he was up on his feet and jogging for the playground – he was on a time-table and he was a bit behind.
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     Harry kept the Invisibility Cloak on his entire journey to Diagon Alley – he didn’t want to run the risk of anyone looking at him and taking a closer look. Harry slipped off the Knight Bus and hurriedly went into the Leaky Cauldron, it was easy to slip through the thick crowds’ of people until he reached the back alley where he pulled out his wand and tapped the third brick above the bins.
     Even before the bricks were pulling fully away Harry was slipping through between them and rushing down the deserted cobble-way. His mental time-table showed that Harry was behind, like really behind, schedule and Harry needed to make up the difference somehow in someway. The large marbled doors of Gringott’s was easy to spot and slip into for Harry, he made sure to glance around to see how crowded it was before pulling off his Invisibility Cloak – it seemed rude to do banking invisble regardless of how much Harry needed to not be seen but with how deserted the bank was Harry was willing to risk it.
     “Hello,” Harry told the Goblin teller when he was called up. “I need to visit my vault please and than place an order for specialty parchment-paper that Gringott’s provides.”
     “Key.”
     Harry slide his key across the desk and the teller, a pale fleshy-colored goblin, examined the key before looking Harry over with a nod. Soon they were down at his vault and Harry opened the small sack Harry had and piled in as much Galleon’s as it could carry – Harry wasn’t about to do this half-assed and get himself into trouble if he couldn’t afford to fund this venture. When the sack was buldging did Harry stop and leave his vault; the goblin, Riptide, escorted Harry back up to the main-floor where they settled in front of his desk.
     “Which type of parchment-paper can Gringott’s provide for you today Master Potter? Be warned – it’s very costly and the price is for one sheet and only one sheet.” Riptide warned and Harry nodded. “Yes sir. I need Portkey-paper and an Entrapment Envelop.”
      Riptide arched a brow and folded his hands on his desk. “I see. Might I ask for what use are you putting these enchantment’s to? It will not help you catch your enemy Master Potter – Scion Slytherin is much too sly for that.”
     “Not him,” Harry exhaled slowly and knew he had to tell part of his plan otherwise he wasn’t going to be able to walk out of Gringott’s with what he needed. “One of his minions – Peter Pettigrew III. I need him to clear my Godfather’s name and if it goes well…Voldemort won’t have many minions left to him by the time I’m done.”
     “Peter Pettigrew III is a dead-wizard Master Potter,” Riptide said. “ANd Necromancy is highly illigal here in Britain.”
     “No, he’s not.” Harry corrected. “I saw him, Pettigrew, at the end of my third year, last year, and again when Voldemort was reborn again just two months ago.”
Riptide stilled and frowned at Harry. “Will you be willing to swear this under magic Master Potter? Swear that what you speak of is true?”
     “I know it’s true and I will swear under or on anything you would like.” Harry raised his chin. “I saw something foul and evil in that graveyard – I’ve been unable to do anything about it and if what I think is true I believe, I know, I can cut Voldemort off at the knee’s before he can cause problems for the wizarding-world again.”
     Riptide cocked his head and nodded before standing up. “Follow me Master Potter – I do think you can answer some questions for us, that had been plaguing us for quite some time now.”
     Harry was confused and twitchy with the mental cloak inside of his head ticking down but followed after the goblin – Harry wasn’t sure what was going on or what was going to happen but if it helped his plans to get Sirius pardoned then Harry was willing to risk being not found at the Dursley’s, willing to risk all kinds of trouble he was going to get into if it meant his Godfather’s freedom. Harry was led down a maze of twisting halls and corridor’s until Harry was completely and utterly lost – he doubted he could find his way back out again – when they finally came to a large golden-door guarded by two of the most armed goblins Harry had ever seen before in his life.
     Riptide said something in their langauge, vagually German-ish to Harry’s ears, before the doors opened and they were shown into a large office. It was currently empty but the duo crossed the room and waited in front of the desk; Harry wanted to say something or sit down but something warned Harry it would be a bad idea to do either one so he stood there, fidgeting slightly, until a side door opened and one of the most odd goblins entered the room. He looked to be both the oldest and the youngest goblin Harry had ever seen before and there was something…Harry couldn’t put his finger on it but the goblin seemed different to Riptide.
     Riptide and the unknown goblin spoke quietly but quickly before the other goblin nodded and clearly dismissed Riptide from the room.
     “Master Potter,” The goblin said as he looked over his glasses at Harry. “Take a seat – Riptide say’s you hold key information that will benefit us.”
     “Um, yes sir?” Harry said as he sat down. “That is, I’m not sure, I just-”
     “Yes, Riptide has explained on why you came to our bank in the middle of the night, carrying the Invisiblity Cloak, and seeking items that are highly illigal for a boy your age to pocess.” The goblin lifted a brow. “And you seek to summon a dead-man to free the murderer of your parents – is this so far correct?”
     “Ah, yes sir.” Harry quietly said as he rubbed his fingers together nervously. “But it’s true!”
     “Yes, so you’ve said before.” The goblin gave Harry a serious look. “If you are telling the truth then swear to me on your magic, under penalty of loosing it for as long as you live, and tell me what you told my teller.”
     Harry, not seeing any other option, took out his wand and swore on his magic before repeating what he told Riptide. Afterwards the goblin leaned back in his heat and folded his hands on his desk, “I see.”
Harry wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting but an “I see” wasn’t it – to be frank he was getting a little angry that his time was being wasted like this – Harry still had a few things left to do before getting back to the Dursley’s before anyone noticed he was missing and that time-frame was rapidly desolving. Harry opened his mouth; to swear, say something, even shout – but the goblin simply held up a hand and rang this tiny little bell on his desk. Immeadately an armed goblin entered and the goblin spoke to him briefly before the armored goblin left.
     Soon after a thick file appeared on the goblins desk and the goblin cleared his throat. “I am sure you have many questions Master Potter but I have one question I need to ask you before the remaining time of your sworn-magic runs out – have you ever been contacted by Gringott’s and/or contacted Gringott’s yourself either personally or by letter since your conception nearly fifteen years ago?”
     “No,” Harry said slowly. “No, I wasn’t even aware of magic until I was eleven years-old and I’ve only been able to visit the bank twice – initially before my first year and then right before my third year when I spent the summer in the Alley.”
     The goblin nodded calmly and then proceded to swear in what Harry was privately calling Goblish for several minutes – Harry was also sure if it had been in English he would have blushed. The goblin snapped his fingers and a tea-set appeared, gleaming brass and bronze, and poured two cups of steaming tea – an heavy crystal decanter was also opened and the goblin liberally topped off his own cup before speaking.
     “I am Ragnarok, Head of this bank, and I fear that we both have been duped.” The goblin, Ragnarok, said as Harry took his cup and sipped on the tea – which tasted like dirty socks but Harry was to polite to spit it back out and vowed to only sip every once in a while as not to poison himself. “Tell me Master Potter, do you have any idea of your family history?”
     “Urm,” Harry paused in lowering his cup. “Killing…Voldemort when I was a baby?”
     Ragnarok sighed and bared his sharp teeth at Harry – who hoped it was a goblin version of a smile – before placing his own cup aside and opening up the thick file in front of him. “Since it is clear that your guardian’s have completely and utterly failed to instruct you in the proper way of things it falls to me to give you a rough overview of things – I fear we will not have much time before your magical guardian discovers you missing and try’s to take you forceable from my bank.”
     “Right,” Harry nodded before pausing. “Wait, isn’t the Dursley’s my guardians? For both the muggle and the magical stuff?”
     “Not quite.” Ragnarok snarled softly. “Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore is your magical guardian and he had assured us – with extensive proof – that you had no interest in your family estate’s and money’s, as well as the Lordship titles, otherwise I would have gained an audience with you at eleven years ago and strightened this all out.”
     “Titles?!"