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Prodigy: Born Again | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:All Genres: Action/Adventure, Comedy, General, Humor Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG Reviews: 51 Summary: Some people think that Prodigies are born. Some people think Prodigies are made. What would happen if both sides of the coin were right? Follow such a Prodigy, one called Harry James Potter, as he finds within himself the ability of Magic and he makes his own way into the Magical World. NOTE: For those that wonder, this is a re-write of the original Prodigy. I have taken this route in order to eliminate the plot-holes that were in the original. Thanks for your support. The author has stated this story will not be continued. SIYE Note from SIYE: The original author of the story “Prodigy,” jmcqk6, has told SIYE he has abandoned his story and has given permission to other authors “that anyone could do whatever they want with it.” There is no issue of plagiarism involving this story. ~Sir Ollivander ~SIYE Administration Hitcount: Story Total: 39524; Chapter Total: 4413 |
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supplies — n. pl. supply. A stock or amount of something supplied or available for use. As Harry prepared his breakfast, he looked out of the window. He still wondered where Hedwig was. He had not seen her since she left three days before, and he was a bit worried. He hoped that he would be able to see her again. Just as he sat down to enjoy his breakfast — as best as he could, given his worry — the beautiful white owl flew in the room and landed right next to Harry. “Hedwig! Where have you been? I was really worried for you,” Harry said, caressing the owl in relief. Hedwig hooted and raised her leg, which had an envelope tied to it. “Is this for me?” Harry asked, and Hedwig hooted again, meaning yes. Harry carefully untied the knot and picked the envelope, which was addressed to Harry Potter, Potter House, Godric's Hollow, Wales, and had on the back a seal with a lion, a snake, a badger and an eagle set around a big H, and with the motto Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus written below it. “I got accepted into Hogwarts!” Harry shouted, jumping out of his chair in joy, while Hedwig remained on her place, looking happily at her human. A few minutes later, after Harry finally got his undiluted happiness out of him, he started to plan what he would have to do. “I'd better open the letter, so that I know what it says,” he told himself, and opened the envelope. Inside, he saw there were two pieces of parchment. The biggest one held a list of various things that he guessed were the required school supplies, which he put away to look at later, and the other one was a short letter. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards) Dear Mr Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have a place in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress Harry read the whole letter again, and looked up at Hedwig. “Are you up to another travel to Hogwarts?” Hedwig hooted affirmatively. Harry ran upstairs and picked a piece of parchment, a quill and an inkwell to write back. Dear Professor McGonagall, I am Harry Potter. I have just received my letter of admission to Hogwarts, and I wish to tell you that I am willing to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. However, there are a couple of things I would like someone to explain to me. I have been living on my own for the last four years, more or less, and there are several things that I do not know about. Would it be possible to meet with a member of your staff to speak with? Please, answer as soon as possible. Yours sincerely, Harry James Potter He put the quill down and looked it over. It sounded a bit too unlike a kid would write in his opinion, but he was not sure of how he should write a letter, and this was the best he could do. Hedwig entered the office through the open door and landed on the table, next to Harry. “Thanks for coming, girl,” he said, caressing the owl's feathers. After carefully folding the piece of parchment, he took a length of string from the table and carefully tied the letter to Hedwig's leg. “Stay safe, OK? And wait for an answer, please.” Hedwig hooted, as if telling him he had nothing to worry about. Harry ran to open the window and Hedwig took flight, soaring into the air as she flew north, towards Hogwarts. Harry stayed there, watching Hedwig fly, until she became nothing but a small dot in the blue sky, and then not even that. “Well, I guess I should leave for Gringotts, then,” he told himself. He went to his parents room and found a robe he thought would fit with the situation. He shrank it with a wave of his stick, and then readied himself for his journey to Gringotts. He had never been at the magical bank, but so far his mysterious travelling system had never failed him. “I want to be in Gringotts, I want to be in Gringotts, I want to be in Gringotts...” he chanted in his head, concentrating on his task and nothing else. A few seconds later, a POP! was heard, and the house was empty of people. ~~~***Prodigy***~~~***Prodigy ***~~~***Prodigy***~~~ It was the early hours of morning, and Blanikat was quite bored. His job as a teller at Gringotts Bank, the only magical bank in all of Britain, forced him to deal with wizards several hours a day. Up until a few years before, roughly sixty-five percent of them were arrogant in their dealings with the bank, demanding rather than asking for access to the vaults they hired within the bank, while most of the rest acted politely but a bit patronising due to the supposed inferiority of the Goblin nation when compared to wizards, and only a few people were able to behave correctly while within Gringotts' walls. However, ever since Cornelius Fudge was fired, the relationship between wizards and goblins had improved, which was something everyone in the bank appreciated, as it was very difficult to make business with someone that clearly hated you and did not have any qualms in showing it, but it was still far away from the relationship goblins wanted with wizardkind. Right now, there were few people entering the bank, which made sense, given how early it was. It was then that a human child, with slightly long hair black as coal, entered the bank, carrying a backpack. Despite himself, Blanikat could not help but be interested in him. For starters, the child was completely alone, which was strange: all human children that entered the bank always were accompanied by one adult at least. Also, the child was looking everywhere around him, and even from a distance he could see that the child had a look of amazement on his face, as if he was trying to see everything at the same time, and drinking from the beauty of how the bank had been built. There also was the way the child held himself. It was not like a normal child, always full of energy and constantly moving. He was more like a human teenager, interested in everything but far more reposed and mature. He could also feel something else, something that made him very different from other wizards: he had power: great power. Almost like Albus Dumbledore. Maybe slightly less than the old wizard, but that was nonetheless great for a child of his age. This was indeed the signal that he was a powerful wizard, and probably would become even more powerful as he grew in age. He wondered about the child's identity, and soon realised that he would not have to wait much, because the child was walking towards his counter. He looked at the child as he came, carefully trying to show indifference towards the newcomer, as it was befitting of him. The child stopped, and looked at him. “Master Goblin, I wish peace and riches unto you and yours. I wish to ask for your help in financial matters,” the child said, painfully slowly, in Gobbledegook. Blanikat barely kept his surprise from showing. The wizard's sense of superiority meant that not many of them tried to learn magical languages like Mermish. Only a few did bother to do so. And here was a child that had probably not even started to go to Hogwarts and had learned it? It was quite obvious to his ears that he must have learned on his own or with someone that did not practice speaking in Gobbledegook much, because his pronunciation was quite distinctly English. Still, it was impressive that the child knew how to speak in Gobbledegook. “I welcome you to Gringotts, young wizard. Please, state your name, so that I may know who I am dealing with.” “Harry James Potter.” That was even more surprising for Blanikat. Only his experience at controlling his emotions prevented him from gasping. Now that the child was near, he could see the famous lightning scar hidden behind his coal black fringe. He also was reminded of how, three years ago, Albus Dumbledore had come to Gringotts in the greatest of secrecies and given Digmar, the Potter's account's manager, the key to Harry Potter's trust account, for them to hold on until Harry Potter appeared at the bank, either alone or accompanied by his guardian. “Master Potter, please come with me, I shall bring you to your family's manager.” “Er, my apologies, but would you mind repeating that? I am still learning your language and I fear I do not know all those words. And also, how may I call you?” Well, that makes him quite different from other wizards. I doubt anyone would actually be willing to admit such a problem, he thought. “Do not worry, Master Potter, many find our language a difficult one to learn. I was just asking you to come with me, so that you may meet your family's account's manager. And you may call me Blanikat.” “I thank you, Master Blanikat.” Blanikat put a CLOSED sign on his teller station and came from behind it. Both of them walked in silence towards the back of the main hall, crossing a door made of wood and metal, which gave way to a long corridor with doors on both sides, and portraits and busts decorating the walls. Blanikat noticed that, even at the brisk pace they were going, the young Potter was still taking on everything, and apparently was even reading the names of the people represented in the portraits. Soon, they reached an ebony door that had a bronze plaque on it, saying simply DIGMAR. Blanikat knocked on the door. “Come in,” Digmar said. Blanikat opened the door and saw Digmar sitting behind a desk, working with several books around him and a quill on his hand, while other quills wrote on their own. “Master Digmar, I bring you Master Harry Potter, the heir to the Potter estate,” he said. Digmar looked up, surprised. He turned around and started to look between his books, until he found the relevant one for the current discussion. “Bring him in,” Digmar said. Turning around again, he saw Blanikat and a young human enter his office. The human was, without a doubt, the son of James Potter. Even if he had last seen James Potter nearly eleven years ago, when he and his wife Lily Potter had come, accompanied by Sirius Black and holding the recently born Harry in their arms, to write a joint will; he still remembered it well, and the boy standing in his office was the spitting image of James Potter. “Thank you, Master Blanikat,” Digmar said. “Master Potter, please take a seat.” “Thank you for your help, Master Blanikat,” Harry replied. Digmar's only answer was raising his thick eyebrows. While the boy's pronunciation was terrible, he had spoken in passable Gobbledegook, and it was quite interesting. He wondered how the child had learned the language of Goblins. “You are welcome. May peace favour your family and gold flow into your pockets,” Blanikat replied, before leaving the office and closing the door. “Greetings, Master Potter. It is a pleasure to finally meet with you. It is interesting to hear you speak our language. Also, I had heard that you had been missing these last years.” “I was living at my parents' house,” Harry replied. “I think it was under a Fidelius Charm. Maybe that is why everyone thought I was missing. As for Gobbledegook, I started to learn it by myself a few weeks ago, which is why I do not know enough about it.” “Do not worry, Master Potter, not many wizards would be able to learn much of our language in just a few weeks. Well, given that you are here, do you wish to learn about your family's financial state?” “It would not be bad to do that. I had intended to just come and check if I could get some money to buy my school things, but it would be useful to learn about what I actually have.” Digmar nodded. Young Potter seemed to be quite more mature than his age belied. He opened the book he had taken before from the shelf. “This book here has the last numbers on the Potter Family Estate. Currently, the Potter family has three vaults in Gringotts: your trust vault, which was set by your parents a month after you were born to help you pay for your studies and other expenses; a financial vault, where the dividends and royalties of all the investments and things related to you or your family are deposited; and a special vault where the family has stored several magical and non-magical artefacts, as well as gems of many kinds and others. Right now, you can access all vaults, but you can only take money out of your trust vault, and if you want to take things out of the third vault you need to have permission from your guardian. The special vault also has the deeds to the Potter Family Estate's properties, such as Potter Mansion, a house in the town of Godric's Hollow, a beach summer house in southern Spain and a few buildings related to a company your grandfather Charles Potter started several years ago. “As you can see here,” Digmar continued, turning the book so that Harry could see it, “your family's financial vault has steadily increased in content, especially in the last eleven years, although the last four years have seen a slight increase in expenses beyond those of vault maintenance and taxes. Given that you say you have been living at your parents' house, I guess that the extra expenses may have come from there.” Harry nodded. At least, now he knew how it was possible for the icebox to be always full of food even if he never went out to buy any food. Although he still wondered about how the food came into the icebox if he didn't open it. “Your trust vault has not seen any expenses nor withdrawals in the whole time since it was set up. The only movements have been those related to the interests of the money the vault has accumulated. The key to that vault will be available to you as soon as you want it. As for the artefacts vault, there have been no changes to its contents since your parents' death.” “Thank you for this. I am wondering, how come you use books to keep all the information? Doesn't it become a bit... inconvenient?” “It is. Unfortunately, neither wizards nor goblins nor any other magical race has been able, so far, to develop a way that allows for information to be stored in some other place than books or parchment rolls.” He looked at the young Potter, and he saw something that really interested him: a glint of light in his eyes. It was a glint that, in the eye of a goblin, meant an idea with the potential of being very important, very useful or very enriching. Probably all of them. “I have something that you might be interested in,” Harry said, pulling something out of his bag, something with two panes of glass on it. ~~~***Prodigy***~~~***Prodigy***~ ~~***Prodigy***~~~ When Professor Minerva McGonagall opened the door to her office, intent on looking over some papers that she needed to check for the next school year, she was surprised to see a snow white owl waiting on the stand near her table. As soon as she entered, the owl hooted and stuck a leg out, showing the letter tied to it. Crossing the space between the door and her desk, Minerva reached the owl and untied the letter from the owl's leg, but, opposed to what she expected, the owl remained there. “Are you waiting for an answer?” she asked, and the owl bobbed her head, as if saying yes. Minerva looked for the small box that had the owl treats she gave her own owl and offered a few to the white owl, who ate them carefully while she stroked the top of the owl's head. After the owl seemed satisfied, Minerva sat down and looked at the envelope. Minerva McGonagall, Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft was written on it with black ink in a handwriting she did not recognise. She wondered who was writing to her, so she opened the envelope and found a short letter. Five minutes later, she searched behind her and pulled out a bottle of fifteen-year-old scotch and a small glass. Pouring out a peg for herself, she drank it in one gulp. She was glad she had just finished her dinner, otherwise she knew it could have done a number on her. She could notice the owl was giving her a look that seemed to be trying to convey its distaste for her actions, but she needed something to calm her nerves after what she had read. Harry Potter was coming to Hogwarts. It was four years since the last time someone had heard anything about him. And now, he was answering to his Hogwarts letter as if he were expecting it. She wondered where the child had been living, but that was something that could be answered later. Right now, she should bring news of this to Albus. She looked again at the owl. “Do you want to come with me? There is someone I need to speak with, and I think he will want to send you back to Harry with a letter.” The owl hooted and jumped to her extended arm. She took the letter and opened the door, briskly walking towards the Headmaster's office. A few minutes later, she reached the gargoyle and said the password, “Lemon Drops”, and walked upstairs. “Enter,” she heard Albus say, and opened the door. “Minerva!” the Headmaster greeted as soon as she opened the door. “And guest,” he added, mildly curious, as soon as he noticed the white owl perched on her arm, which flew to the stand where Fawkes was resting from his most recent Burning Day. “What is the matter, Minerva?” Minerva simply gave him the letter in reply. She knew the moment he had reached Harry's name, because his eyes widened and then moved faster over the parchment, in order to absorb every word on it. When he finished, he put the letter down and sighed, feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Thank Merlin,” he whispered. “Yes, thank Merlin. What do you suggest we should do? If what you said was true, it would be impossible for us to try and reach him at Godric's Hollow.” “I think... that we should first alert Sirius about this. You know how nervous he is becoming as time passes without any news from Harry. He will welcome this letter for sure.” “Good idea. Do you mind if I use your fireplace?” she asked. “By all means,” Albus replied, while he read the letter once more, intent on trying to find anything that may tell him something more about Harry. Minerva stepped towards the fireplace, grabbed a pinch of Floo powder, and threw it on the fire. She then knelled on the floor, put her head in the now green fire, and shouted “Grimmauld Place!” A few seconds later, things stopped spinning around and she found herself looking into a slightly darkened kitchen, where she could see a pair of house elves working at cleaning several dishes. “Hello?” she said, and the house elves turned around. One of them, a very old one with droopy ears and long nose, stepped towards the fireplace. “Kreacher wonders what a witch is doing on Master's fireplace,” he said in a surly tone. “Hello, Kreacher, I am Minerva McGonagall, would you please tell Sirius that I need to speak with him?” “Kreacher will tell Master about witch in the fireplace,” he replied, and vanished with a small POP! Minerva waited, and soon the kitchen door opened and Sirius Black crossed it. “Minerva? What's the matter?” he asked. “I need you to come here to Hogwarts. It is something for which we need your input.” Sirius raised an eyebrow, obviously expecting Minerva to explain herself further, but she did not say anything else. “All right. Give me a minute and I will be at Albus' office.” Minerva stood up again, silently complaining about the pain on her knees for having to do this at her age — and wondering why something could not be invented to save people from going on their knees to speak through the Floo network — when Sirius appeared and came out of the fireplace, brushing off some ashes. “What happened?” “Here. Harry wrote back to accept his admission at Hogwarts,” Albus said, offering Sirius the letter. The younger man jumped at hearing Harry's name and took the letter, holding it as if it were the most precious thing he had ever seen, to then read it hungrily. Once he finished, he sat down on the nearest chair and relaxed, a big smile on his face. After ten years, he had finally been able to hear about his godson. “What should we do now?” Minerva asked, once Sirius calmed down. “I think that perhaps we should send a letter to Harry, with a Portkey. Of course, explaining to him that it is a Portkey, and perhaps something should be done so that at least you,” Albus said, pointing at Sirius, “know the secret to Harry's house. I know that, right now, Godric's Hollow is the safest place for Harry to be in, but still I think someone should have some fast way to contact with Harry.” “Well, if he wants to, I plan to ask him whether he wants to live with me, so that would make everything easy. And, if you need to contact with me urgently, I have a pair of communicating mirrors with which we can talk to each other without having to use the Floo network or an owl.” “That is quite a good idea, Sirius. See if you can find that pair of mirrors, and Minerva, would you write the answer? I will change the wards to allow Harry's Portkey to enter directly into Hogwarts without being bounced out or something else.” ~~~***Prodigy***~~~***Prodigy* **~~~***Prodigy***~~~ “What can you tell me about the young Potter Heir, Digmar?” asked Meikniv, Director of the Gringotts office in Diagon Alley, United Kingdom. Digmar breathed in and out, in an attempt to remain calm. It was never easy to meet the Director, a goblin wizards had never met. The only goblins that actually knew the Director were his relatives, the other Directors, his aides, and only when warranted, a Manager. “He is an intelligent human,” Digmar said, trying to measure his words. “He knows how to speak our noble language, at least in part, although his pronunciation is terrible, something he was quite apologetic about. “In spite of his young age, he was able to understand my explanations about the Potter Family Estate, and with great interest, too, more than what could just be explained if he only wanted it for the riches. “However, the most important thing happened when he took interest in how we kept records. He offered me a deal that could, perhaps, and with some work, both help us to keep our records better stored and allow us to save several thousand, perhaps millions, of galleons every year.” That called Meikniv's attention. Parchment was easily one of the highest expenses Gringotts had to go through every year. Several attempts had been made to find some other way to keep all records straight in less space, but those efforts had failed, and parchment remained the only way to do that. So far, they had had to use six great vaults to keep the older records there, and a seventh was already at a third of its full capacity. “Master Potter's offer is also, in my opinion, the chance to make a great investment, which could help Gringotts earn much more money than ever before.” “Please, spare no details,” Meikniv said. “Master Potter, despite his youth, even by goblin standards, already has a prodigiously intelligent mind. Using magical knowledge he has learned in only the last four years, he took an idea based on something Muggles invented several years ago, something called a computer, to make a magical artefact that works similarly. Basically, it is a machine that can make all sorts of calculations, allow someone to write without using any ink at all, keep track of conversations, and many other things.” “I gather that you have seen this machine working. How does this help us to keep our records in a better situation?” Digmar pulled something out of one of the numerous pockets he had on his jacket. It was a ruby, although it seemed slightly different to the rubies Meikniv was used to: although the typical intense red could be seen, there was also an unusual yellowish tinge that made it quite strange to his eyes. “Pray tell, what has happened to that ruby?” “It was all thanks to Master Potter. He used a device in that machine of his that allows it to read a whole book in less than a minute, and that book can then be read on the 'screen'. This ruby holds the last two hundred years of the Potter Family Estate financial records, and Master Potter says that it can store a lot more than that.” As soon as he heard that, Meikniv realised that the idea had not only great potential, but, as Digmar had said, was bound to be pretty much worthwhile to invest in. Why, if they managed to get Harry Potter to sell them a few of those machines, Gringotts would be able to cut on the time required to do many other things! True, the initial cost for using gems would be high, but the benefits of using the machines instead of parchment and ink would more than cover the initial investment. “You did well to bring this to me, Digmar. We definitely can benefit from these machines of Master Potter. Did the two of you speak about the possibility of him selling some to Gringotts?” “I fear that the conversation did not reach that point, Master Meikniv. We mostly talked about the Potter Family Estate and the capacities of his machine. However, I believe that this conversation would be better held when Master Potter is accompanied by his guardian, who might be able to teach him things that we would not be able to. Also, given Master Potter's status as a minor in the eyes of wizards, despite his being the Heir to the House of Potter, his guardian would be required to help him with all deals.” “Let it not be said that us goblins do not behave according to the law, nor that we do not care about our customers. Please, write Master Potter a letter to arrange a meeting with him in five days. We will need to speak with him and his guardian so that we can start discussions about the possibility of him selling some of those machines of his.” “Yes, Master Meikniv, I will start writing it right now.” ~~~***Prodigy***~~~***Prodi gy***~~~***Prodigy***~~~ Harry woke up refreshed. The previous day had been a bit long, what with the visit to Gringotts and buying the things on the school list. He had really outdone himself when he arrived to the bookshop and the potions' shop. In the former, he had basically taken a copy of each book he did not have yet, and in the latter he had bought a bit of every ingredient the shop had, especially those he lacked or was running out of. After putting on some clothes, he went downstairs in order to make himself some breakfast. Considering the nice weather outside, he opened the windows so that some fresh air entered the kitchen as he fried some eggs and bacon strips. Sitting down to eat his breakfast, he looked out of the window. In the blue sky and among the white clouds, he saw a small dot moving towards him. Soon enough, the dot got close enough for him to recognise that it was Hedwig flying towards him. Harry hurriedly finished his breakfast, saving a piece of bacon to give to the owl. “Hey, girl, how is it going?” Harry said after the owl landed on the table, caressing her head. Hedwig stuck her leg out, and he saw that she had a letter tied down to it. “Is this for me?” he asked. Hedwig answered with a hoot, as if saying “Of course it is, dummy.” The letter was written in a handwriting similar to that of the Hogwarts letter he had received, but there was a bit of a difference. It seemed to be more... rushed, maybe. Dear Mr Potter, I am glad that you have decided to attend Hogwarts. It is also nice to have heard from you after a long time. Now, I am not sure how much you know about magic and the magical world, but nonetheless I, as well as Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts' Headmaster, wish to meet with you in order to discuss certain matters with you. Given that your house is currently, and unfortunately, inaccessible for us due to the charm that was placed on it several years ago, an alternative is necessary. This letter is a Portkey. If you do not know, a Portkey is an object that has been charmed so that it can take a person from one place to another, with at least the destination being known to the caster. Portkeys can be charmed so that they act when a password is spoken while holding it or at a certain time. This Portkey will activate when you speak the words “Hogwarts School”. Make sure that you bring some clothes and other necessary objects with you, you may need them for later. I hope that you will come here, to Hogwarts, soon. Yours faithfully, Minerva McGonagall “Hmm. Well, what do you think, Hedwig? Should I go?” Hedwig's hoot was clearly an affirmative one. “Good.” Harry smiled. He was going to Hogwarts for real! He waved his stick at the dishes, which started to wash themselves, and he ran upstairs to take his recently bought trunk, where he had put all the books he had not had a chance to put into one of his gems along with several other things he had bought there. Opening the wardrobe, he pulled out some of his clothes and put them into the trunk. Other things that went in there were some photos, a couple of cauldrons for Potions classes and several other things he thought might be necessary. With a stick swish, Harry reduced the size of the trunk so that he could carry it within his backpack, and with his MagiMac in there as well, he was nearly ready to leave his house. He just had to change his clothes, and then he would be able to take the Portkey. “Hedwig, do you want to go on your own to Hogwarts or do you prefer to come with me?” Hedwig hooted again and Harry took her to the window, from where she took flight, heading north. Harry stayed there for a few minutes, until Hedwig was nothing but a point, like she had been when he saw her before. He took the letter and breathed heavily, looking around himself, at the house that had been his home for the last four years. “Hogwarts School,” Harry said, and right then he disappeared from the Potter's home at Godric's Hollow into a whirlwind of colour. |
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