tBS – Fate

Title: Fate
Author: Saydria Wolfe
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Harry and the Prewitts
Prompt: OMC
Word Count: 1678
Casting:  I would cast Jason as Tom Hiddleston
Warning: No beta, this one might come down because I reserve the right to expand it
Summary: What people with actual good intentions look like.
 

 

“What are you doing here, kid?”

The boy turns to face him faster than Puddlemere’s keeper at the last World Cup. His bright green eyes flick over Jason, first startled and curious, then wary and cautious. “I need to speak to Tom at the Leaky Cauldron.”

Ah. “You got a letter?”

The kid pulls a letter out of the pocket of his oversized shirt and Jason has to ruthlessly suppress his surprise, not only at the name but the address because ‘Cupboard Under the Stairs’? Really?

“Where are your parents?”

“Dead. Car crash.”

Uh, no. Jason swallows hard to contain the words. “So, who’s taking care of you?”

“My aunt and uncle.”

“And where are they?”

The boy shoots him a boggled look before nearly shouting “At home!” in a completely scandalized tone.

“The Cauldron’s right there.”

The boy looks in the direction Jason pointed and frowns. He frowns harder and harder until there was a little pop and the boy’s eyes suddenly light up. The boy grins up at him gratefully and turns for the door but Jason has to stop him.

“You don’t need to talk to Tom.” The boy glances up at him again, assessing. He seems to look so far into Jason’s soul that he’s grateful to be telling the truth when he continues. “Tom will just send to the Bank for a muggleborn liaison. That’s one of my duties for the bank, so we can just skip a step.”

After a long pause the boy –Potter– nods and turns once again to Jason.

“Okay, first things first. As I’m sure you are aware, people will judge you a lot based on your appearance, so let’s clean ourselves up.” Jason pulls his wand, waves it over himself, and his very nice bespoke muggle suit wordlessly transforms into a similar looking set of formal business robes.

“Whoa!” the boy grins, enthused, his eyes once again alight with curiosity and good cheer.

“May I do you?”

“Yes, please!” The Potter throws his arms out and head back giving Jason as much access as he might need for the simple task.

Jason waves his wand more working on Potter than he did at himself.

Not just for the more elaborate change from scruffy, outsized muggle clothes to a black, silver, and green set up more fitting for the young man’s status but also to examine the young man.

Specifically his glasses.

It’s strange to see a magical wearing glasses out of necessity. Most magicals wear them as a tool of some kind or perhaps a fashion quirk but not need. Never need. And this particular pair has a great deal of magic radiating from them for a purely muggle item.

Jason does his best not to frown down at his new young charge.

The glasses were made with alchemy for magical suppression and shaping. They’ve also been engraved with runic spells. Status and location spells obviously for whomever the boy’s magical guardian could be, but also a curious combination of outwardly aimed behavioral spells, wards to keep the young boy away from magical things -which would be why he couldn’t find the Cauldron itself even after making it to the right street- and, well, other things Jason simply can’t identify. Curses, clearly, but he’s no cursebreaker.

Rather than cancel the spells which would surely bring the boy’s manipulator running, Jason adds a time delay that should buy them the time they need to make it to the bank before the Manipulator can stop them.

He also takes a moment to throw a mild notice-me-not charm on the incredibly famous, infinitely recognizable boy.

“There are things you need to be prepared for,” He tells the boy as they begin the winding walk from the Cauldron to the bank. “It should probably go without saying that not everything is as it seems in the magical world.”

The boy nods his agreement.

“Some things that look terrifying and brutish can be the kindest beings you’ll ever meet. And great beauty can hide great cruelty. Not everything as smart or smarter than humans looks human. Goblins, merfolk. Centaurs, dragons, giants. There are animals -regular animals like owls and snakes- fully as smart as people. So be respectful, always.

“Additionally, as in the muggle world, some humans think we are better than other sentient beings. They are wrong. It’s your choice, of course, but if you chose to emulate those people you’ll never discuss the stars with a centaur or play chess with a goblin and those are some of the most magical and enlightening experiences I’ve ever had in my life.”

The boy pauses, physically pauses to contemplate this, obviously unsure why this would be the first thing Jason would mention to a new acquaintance but eventually nods and allows them to continue forward.

“Gringotts, the bank of the wizarding world, is run by goblins. They employ humans, like myself, in a number of ways. Mostly we just do to the things they don’t want to or because we use magic differently than they do and they see the advantage of that. They also use werewolves and vampires for this same reason but do not be afraid.” Jason shoots the boy a dry look. “Endangering customers is bad for business so customer safety within the bank is assured.”

The boy snickers, as Jason intended, and stops again. Together they look up at the gleaming white marble of the bank, the goblin guards in gleaming armor, and the great golden doors.

Taking advantage of the boy’s awe, Jason pulls out his communication mirror and taps his father’s emergency code.

“Jason?” The Lord Prewitt answers with a frown.

“Are you still with Grimlock?”

His father nods.

“I’m bringing in a VIP. Be prepared for extreme measures.”

“We are prepared.” Grimlock the Prewitt account manager intones in the grave manner that earned him his name.

Jason ends the call and looks down at his young charge who seems to be trying to figure something out about the building’s architecture. “Ready?” he asks and the boy nods.

As soon as they cross the threshold of the bank Jason can feel the modification charms fall of the boy, both his own and the ones the Manipulator set. He gets a flash of fury from the Manipulator through his modifications to the man’s spells but Potter doesn’t seem to notice so he decides not to say anything.

Quickly, he leads them through the lobby to Grimlock’s office. Grimlock takes one look at the boy and he throws up every single ward and locking spell possible on a private goblin office within the bank.

“Ah, Mr. Potter,” the goblin starts.

Potter -Harry- chokes. “You know me?”

Jason shoots a cautionary look at his father but the man ignores him. “Of course, young man, you’re quite famous.”

“Famous? For what?”

“He doesn’t know about his parents.” Jason interjects

“What? That they were drunks killed in a crash?”

Grimlock and Ignatius Prewitt shoot to their feet, offended and furious.

Jason steps in again. “I went to school with your parents, Harry. A car crash couldn’t have killed them and a car crash did not kill them.”

“Then?” The boy looks up at him, trusting, hopeful, but confused. “How?”

“You remember those very wrong people we discussed earlier?” The boy quickly nods. “Many of those people are convinced of something called ‘blood purity’ which, honestly is nothing more than horrible racism. But, before you were born, this pack of racists found a leader. A terrible, evil man that made them feel powerful and gave them direction. They brought our country into a blood war -a war over their beloved blood purity.

“Hundreds of people died. Or were injured, cursed, tortured, driven insane. Entire families died out left and right, it was horrible.

“And your parents, Harry, like myself, and my father, and our whole family, fought against him. Then, at the height of his power, when many of us thought He was unbeatable, something happened. No one knows quite what -though there are thousands of rumors- but your parents were murdered and He died. Personally, I think they took Him with them but some people -people on both sides- think it was you. They think that your parents were already dead and for some reason He couldn’t hurt you and somehow that killed him but, either way. Your parents died. He died. And you lived.”

“And that’s why I’m famous? Because my parents died and I didn’t? That’s-”

“Rather terrible.”

Harry nods once, sharply, in agreement.

“Do you know anything about your parents, Harry? Has anyone ever told you about them?”

The boys shakes his head.

“There is a Will,” Grimlock puts in. “If young Mister Potter would like, the Bank can execute it on his behalf and then you would have access to everything your parents left you.”

“Like pictures?” is Harry’s very first question and Jason’s heart breaks.

He puts a hand on the boy’s shoulder  “Should be but if not I can find you some. Like I said, I was in their year at school so I can tell you stories about them too.”

The boy nods with his whole body and leans into Jason, just a bit, silently seeking comfort.

There’s a knock on the door and it opens before Grimlock can even think to bring any of his magical barricades down. Why becomes obvious rather quickly when the door opens and High Chieftain Ragnok is holding the doorknob as he lets only himself in. No magic in the bank can keep out the High Chieftain.

“Well, be seated,” Ragnok orders as he moves behind Grimlock’s desk, sending the lower ranking goblin scrambling out of his own seat and around to the other side. “I took note that the Potters’ Will has never been executed and took the liberty of bringing it with me. Shall we begin?”

All adults in the room look to Harry. The boy straightens himself and moves to the middle seat, directly in front of the leader of the Goblin Horde. “Yes, please.”

 

 

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