Weeks flew by without any further hassle. In that short time, Harry had earned his place as the most talented student of his generation. Teachers loved him, well, at least most of the teachers did. Snape, for some strange reason, was projecting his hatred towards James Potter onto his son. The dour man kept trying to find any flaw Harry’s potions or essays, not to mention that he kept trying to embarrass him on every opportunity he got. Fortunately, for Severus Snape, he was far too used to being disliked so the treatment he received did not even faze him.

Flitwick, on the other hand, had taken a liking to Harry despite of his mother. He had to keep up with the short man’s high expectations and he was never awarded any kind of special treatment, which was exactly the way Harry liked to be taught. Flitwick was beginning to train him in the old art of duelling, stating he had a talent he had only seen on a few others and the work ethic to prove he deserved the lessons. Being mentored by a professional duellist was an advantage Harry had not anticipated but accepted gratefully. The only downside was that he was forced to partake in physical exercise, and while he had a lean constitution, he learnt the hard way it did not equal physical fitness. However, two weeks later, he could already feel his magic growing to adapt and that simple fact pleased him to no end.

During this time, he had also gotten a shadow named Theodore. The boy followed him everywhere but it was not terribly cumbersome and, sometimes, his company was even pleasant. Theodore Nott was quite reserved and respectful, besides, he and Harry shared a similar interest in literature. However, his new shadow’s ignorance regarding the muggle world in general never failed to amuse the young Potter. Harry still smiled at the memory of Theodore’s curiosity about his backpack, which in turn, led to an interesting turn of events.

"Why do you always carry that strange sack with you?" Theo asked, pointing at Harry’s backpack.

"It's my backpack though...” Harry almost asked, feeling extremely puzzled and mildly offended at the odd question. Then, he remembered how backwards the magical world was. “It is used to carry personal items. Personally, I carry all my books, parchment, water, snacks, and a few other knickknacks."

Theo gave him an incredulous look, as if he had made it all up. “Here, examine it yourself,” Harry decided to tell the boy, handing his backpack.

"How do I open this?" asked a puzzled Theo.

"You pull the zipper, like this," he showed and chuckled at the boy's wide eyes.

"That zipper thing is like a separable fastener, how you got the idea?!"

"I didn't, it's a common thing between muggles," Harry answered, almost laughing at how his classmate’s expression went from amazed to horrified, finally settling on a mildly scandalized one.

"What are the colourful things inside?"

"Folders, I have one for every subject," he explained grabbing one and handing it to Theo, wondering if the boy had decided to ignore the backpack in general or merely the idea of it being a muggle invention.

"So this is how you manage to keep everything organized," Theo muttered, scowling slightly, "I guess this is also a muggle idea."

"Also this," Harry said, showing his classmate one of his fountain pens.

"I thought it was a bizarre version of a quill."

"Try it," Harry encouraged the boy and let out a low chuckle at his amazed expression.

"So this is why you have such a perfect handwriting. I need one of these, and if possible of the others as well," Theo muttered, admiring the fountain pen in his hand as if it was the ultimate work of art.

Harry had to admit that Theo amused him with his reactions, he still smiled at the memory of Theo being horrified with his schedule but following it nonetheless and discovering it was not as hard as he imagined. His shadow even trained with him early in the morning, even if Harry could do without the complaints he was forced to listen. He had been annoyed to the point that he had threatened Theo, the boy’s eyes when he described the muggle gym where he would be taken if he kept complaining more than made up for the inconvenience. However, what Harry liked the most about his new companion had nothing to do with the humorous situations, but with Theo’s willingness to learn and accept his mistakes.

"How do you do it?" Theo almost demanded.

"I beg your pardon."

"How is it possible that I never see you using the bathroom?"

"What do you know about house-elves?" Harry asked in return, finally understanding what was happening.

"They are servants, why are you avoiding my question?" Theo almost whined.

"I’m trying to answer it, but it seems you won't understand. Search for information on house-elves in the library and then I will give you a book. After that, I will answer."

Theo had been glued to books the whole week and read twice the book he was lent. Afterwards, he had been thoughtful for a whole day.

"If elves are so powerful, why are they slaves?" Theodore asked at last and Harry got ready to give a long explanation

"They are not slaves, Theo, they never were. Wizards are the ones that perverted the noble race that aids us. House-elves and mages have a long history, in fact, it was always meant to be a relationship based on mutualism. Elves can’t produce their own magic so they depend on wizards to lend them some through their bond, in exchange, they protect and help the family. The stronger the bond with the wizard, the stronger their magic is. Follow me," Harry ordered and walked to his room, almost smiling and the incredulous look on the other boy’s face. "My elves have the magic to do this because they are my friends and confidants, not my servants. However, most elves would be unable to do a tenth because their magic is weak. I was surprised when I saw one wearing a dirty pillowcase and no shoes. Only savages would treat people that way. Especially people as loyal and devoted as house-elves," he stated and waited for his shadow to compose himself.

"I had no idea... We are taught that elves are slaves and nothing more," Theo whispered, looking pained with the admittance.

"Ignorance can be shared and stupidity taught. If you have an elf, you still have time to change that."

"I will," the boy promised solemnly. Harry mused on how easy could be to cure ignorance if everyone was willing to learn.

On a different note, his clothing store - named Magical Whims - had finally opened its doors a week ago. With great success, if he may add. An announcement was made through the newspapers, which apparently had never been done before, so people flooded the place out of curiosity. The new styles were well received by most, excepting a few die-hard traditionalists. A week later, the furore had yet to dim so Harry deemed necessary to hire two more people, muggleborns, by the way. His elves were happy to work and the new restaurant that would soon open, along with the potions ingredient business that was almost ready. And there was much more to come. Theo had given him an idea for a new business, which involved the muggle ideas that had fascinated him. However, Harry needed to speak with Ragnok before making any plans.

Also, Elizabeth was happy in her school. Exceedingly so. She had made new friends, but constantly wrote to him complaining about all the things she missed, one of them was being pampered by him. Harry was making plans for the Yule holidays that he was sure she would love, which involved a trip and shopping, two of his sister’s favourite hobbies. Everything seemed to be going well, but as we know, it never lasts.

Harry was entering the Slytherin common room. Theo had shooed him from the library because he had an essay to finish and had not even started. How was that his fault? Harry had no idea, but his classmate complained about never being able to do homework with him because there were always more interesting things to do as long as he was around. What could he say? It was true. Harry did all his homework during Binns' classes and before meals so there was not much to do aside from studying her mother’s notes, which were utterly fascinating.

A sepulchral silence was the only thing that welcomed him once he entered the common room. He noted with curiosity that none of the younger students was present, but what caught his attention the most was the dissension that seemed to be between the usually united Slytherin students. Apparently, he had interrupted a heated discussion between two students. On one side was that seventh-year prefect that sometimes was friendly with Harry, an oddity in the House that seemed happy with ignoring his existence. On the other was another student that he couldn’t really remember the name of, but looked familiar enough so Harry suspected that he was a perfect.

“Marcus, don’t even dare,” the older student threatened once he caught a glimpse of Harry.

“I do what I want, Rosewood!” the other student spat with disdain. “Don’t forget who is helping you get that stupid apprenticeship.”

“He is only a boy!”

“You really don’t want that apprenticeship, don’t you?” the younger student asked, giving the seventh-year prefect a mocking smirk.

Rosewood only clenched his fists in frustration but bowed his head. It was obvious to everyone that he had lost the discussion. However, Harry was not interested in any row that the other Slytherins could have, he was only interested in them blocking the only path to his room. Should he wait until the group dispersed or find another place to read?

The decision was taken for him when five older males, including the one that had won the row against the prefect, approached him. The way they were looking at him was enough for Harry to raise his defences, he was far too familiar with those eyes. All his bullies had worn the same expression before he had taught them their rightful place as vermin that should not even dream of polluting the world with their presence.

"It is time we show you your place Potter," the winner of the discussion barked. "Don't dare to think that because the professors lick your boots that you have a right to be here. You are nothing but a filthy half-blood that should have never been placed in this Noble House! It is time I show you your place, at my feet," the prefect hissed in order to appear threatening, but the only reaction he got was a raised eyebrow.

Two of his minions grabbed Harry’s arms and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. He had dealt with vermin with delusions of grandeur before, and it appeared he had to do it once more. He could already feel his magic thrumming on his veins, ready to protect him like she always did.

The other students observed with growing horror how the beating that the child was going to take turned into carnage. The two guys that were supposed to hold Harry Potter down began screaming, clutching their arms in a futile effort to ease the pain. The two of them collapsed a second later, panting in relief. To the spectators’ growing horror, a vivid crimson began tainting the white of the two student’s uniforms.

The other three attackers paled and Harry simply shrugged, deciding to continue his path. However, their leader stepped in the boy’s way.

“What are you waiting for?!” the student demanded, signalling their unwilling minions to continue. “He is only a filthy half-blood!”

Harry only sighed when the two brutes tried to approach him. With a twitch of his fingers, the two of them fell to the floor, yowling in pain. Seriously, they couldn’t even take a few broken bones and they wanted to play the bullies’ role. Pathetic. The young Potter looked at the leader, considering the idea of only going to his room and stop wasting time, but he knew that he should eliminate his problems before they became bigger.

The boy took a step towards the remaining bully and he took a step back. Harry could recognize the fear in the older student’s eyes, but he could also recognize the challenge, which only served to cement his decision.

The Slytherin students gasped when Travers fell to the floor, trashing as if he was possessed, face contorted in pain. Almost everyone was familiar with what was happening and had to control the bile rising in their throats. For a child to control that kind of curse without the help of a wand was unbelievable and utterly disturbing. The pained screams were the only sound that could be heard in the Slytherin common room for a whole minute. No one tried to stop Harry Potter.

Marcus Travers shuddered when the pain stopped, leaving his body numb until he tried to breath. Each ragged breath felt like hot knives carving into his chest and his throat was so raw the warm air felt like acid. This was not meant to happen.

He heard that monster approach but was unable to move. His horror increased when he noticed the admiration bubbling in his chest. He had been raised with the pureblood dogma, following it blindly and never questioning it. Until today. The pillars of his life had been shattered in less than five measly minutes. Harry Potter was powerful, much more than him, much more than any other wizard he had met. It was a sobering realization.

His own parents had always called Lily Potter a mudblood, gold-digger, and many other adjectives that he was unwilling to repeat. They had always called the Potters blood traitors. Therefore, his parents usually talked about the last Potter as if he was a weakling, falsely hailed as a hero. Marcus had believed them, but now he knew that they were wrong. The boy’s magic was suffocating, encasing the whole common room in an oppressive aura.

Marcus looked up despite of his fear. The slight scowl on the boy’s face was the only sign of his annoyance.

"I hope this doesn’t happen again. As you can see, I’m not a patient person,” the monster said in a silvery voice that compelled him to nod, or at least tried to do so. "Good."

The students observed in horror how Travers’ face seemed to light up after that simple word. The boy simply left without looking back, as if the situation had been another part of his daily routine, not even sparing a glance at the crowd that parted before him. The Slytherins understood the true definition of fear. No one had witnessed such a brutal display nor heard screams that would haunt them for long nights. They also understood the definition of awe, for the magic that had caused such a horrific event was the most powerful any of them had ever felt.

One thing was certain: no one would ever dare to cross Harry Potter again.

All the students were mutinous, and if he was honest, he also was. However, Terrence knew better than questioning older students' decisions. His position in the house was not stable enough and he needed the support of the many big names that attended the school in order to obtain a decent position once he graduated. Yet, it did not mean that he supported what the upperclassmen were planning to do.

He didn't need to be an anti-pureblood to know the differences between right and wrong. Beating an eleven-year-old kid was definitely not right, but there was nothing he could do. Travers’ said that professor Snape would cover them as long as the boy did not need urgent medical attention and with that knowledge, what was left of respect towards the potion’s teacher disappeared.

Terrence leaned against the wall as he kept an eye on all the students that were loitering around his floor in order to stop them if they tried to go up. There was the Malfoy’s spawn, talking excitedly with Zabini about the lesson that Potter was going to get. The dark-skinned boy didn’t seem interested at all, which made him a much better human being than the other one, in Terrence’s humble opinion. There was also the Parkinson brat, trying to convince Greengrass to try her luck in getting a peek of the show upstairs. Fortunately, the girl had a functioning brain ad ignored the pug-faced brat.

A shrill scream penetrated the place and all conversations stopped. Terrence clenched his jaw as he tried to suppress the shiver that went down his back. He knew that this was going to end badly. Maybe he should send an anonymous letter to Professor Flitwick and tell him how Potter had ended in St. Mungos and who had been the attackers. Heaven knew that he was one of the few, if not the only teacher that cares about his students.

Terrence tried to ignore all the other screams that followed. He eyed the few remaining students present. Many of his classmates had left towards their rooms and the younger ones fled to their floors. One had even thrown up near his door so he vanished the mess and send the pale girl to sit with the others and silenced that area, it was the only thing he could do. He heard steps resounding and sighed in relief. He looked at his pale classmate and asked her to take all the girls to their side before Marcus arrived to force them to do another thing he didn’t approve of.

Harry Potter walked past him, not even sparing a glance at all the people that were looking at him. Terrence felt all the blood leave his face when he realized what had really happened. His cold hands went to his mouth as he tried to ignore the bile that his body was trying to expel.

At least, he could forget about that letter that he had been planning to send.

Draco Malfoy moved once again, trying not to make any sound. His usually comfortable bed felt like a torture cot. Earlier that day he had been promised a spectacle. Marcus Travers boasted about giving Potter a lesson and he had been eager.

Potter had ruined many of his plans in school and, naturally, he had resented him. However, now he knew that the boy was a threat and it had nothing to do with popularity. If he was honest, Draco was scared. None of the first years had been allowed to go up even after Potter went to his room. However, they heard the alarmed voiced of the professors. Whatever he had done, was enough to scare the adults and he would be stupid not to be scared.

Should he befriend him? Should he keep his distance? Draco Malfoy had no idea what to do and itched to write his father, begging for counsel. But for the first time in his life, he wondered how it felt to take a decision alone.

Daphne Greengrass gulped her sleeping potion, she knew that she was going to need it. What had happened earlier had been enough to shake her, especially when the girls went to their dorms and caught a glimpse of the five students, unconscious on the floor.

On the other hand, this event opened a myriad of opportunities that she could exploit. Overall, she saw an opportunity to be free. She may be frightened, but she was a Slytherin after all.

The next day nothing changed in the eyes of the outsiders, but Severus Snape was not one. Yesterday night, he had received an emergency summons from Poppy, telling him five of his snakes were on the infirmary. Two of them needed to be taken to St. Mungos as an emergency, the others needed immediate care. Once they were stabilized and conscious, he asked Travers for information and, to his surprise, the boy remained quiet. When questioned by the headmaster, he said their duel got out of hand.

No one believed him.

So today he was paying special attention to find the responsible. He had an inkling of what may have happened, but the idea was too horrific to really consider. No house acted differently than normal, excepting his. Everyone in Slytherin was tense. Their eyes shifted around in fear and most had notable bags under their eyes.

The first years were the ones who gave the responsible away, never looking at him directly, but looking in his direction. Harry Potter and Theodore Nott acted as usual but Severus knew he had found the perpetrators. The problem was that he had no proofs aside from his observations and the memory of the ominous stories the woman at the orphanage had told. Aside from what Travers’ had told him, but he couldn’t reveal that piece of information unless he wanted to destruct himself. Making a plan, he was ready to confront the boy.

"Potter, stay after class," he barked. The brat took his sweet time putting his things in his backpack and nodded to his friend. "Last night, five Slytherins were in the hospital wing, two of them were taken to St. Mungos and they will never be able to use their hands the same way they did. You have any idea what happened?" he asked, torn between the desire of finding him guilty and expel him and keeping him in school with daily detentions. Focusing on any hint of knowledge the boy gave away, he didn’t tear his gaze from his student. To his surprise, the boy’s only response was a raised eyebrow.

"I had no idea they were at the hospital, heard some rumours here and there but I tend to disregard them."

"Is there anything you wish to tell me?" he asked, desperate for any proof.

"I talked with Mister Travers once, only for a minute. I don't have any idea on who are the others though," the boy stated.

"Leave," he ordered and Severus could have sworn he saw a smile before he turned.

Severus was an accomplished occlumens and a good Legilimency. He had been a double spy during the war so he knew how to identify deception. The boy had not uttered a single lie but that did not mean he was innocent. The only option available was to wait and observe, hoping he made a mistake. This was no longer a grudge against James Potter, this was about protecting his snakes from the evil that boy threatened to unleash.

Harry left the potion’s classroom somewhat satisfied with himself; he had outmatched the head of the Slytherin house. Even when the man had the habits of a Gryffindor, he was still pleased. He arrived at his usual spot in the library where Theo was waiting. Much to his surprise, his shadow was talking in hushed tones with a girl of his house. She had bronze-gold hair that flowed with her movements, creamy skin, and steel grey eyes.

"I hope I’m not interrupting anything," he said, smirking when they flinched in surprise.

"Not really, I introduce you to Daphne Greengrass."

"It is a pleasure," he greeted the witch with cold eyes.

"Likewise, Harry Potter," she said with an ease that betrayed arduous practice. Interesting reaction Harry was not expecting. "If you excuse me, I have to leave," she looked at Theo and he nodded.

"She was warning me about her father's latest ruse," Theo muttered when he saw his questioning glance, continuing with a tone that was barely above a whisper. "She loathes her father with every fibre of her being so she foils his plans when possible. She is gentle to house-elves because her father ordered her not to be and we speak a few times because she is not allowed to... Her father will try to have all the sentenced death eaters executed to earn people favour so he can deem a new business illegal and then buy it," the boy sighed.

"Do you think he will be successful?"

"Maybe, he is the leader of the neutral faction and there are chances the light factions backing him up... My father is a convicted death eater," Theo muttered, his eyes fixed on the floor.

"So is my godfather, though accused would fit better. I think it is time to take an active role..." Harry commented, taking out a black folder that contained a different kind of parchment and a fountain pen, writing his letter to Gringotts.

"I just remembered that no one messed with you. Will you ever tell me what happened last night?"

"Maybe someday..."

Ragnok was a simple goblin: he loved battle, he loved his family, and he loved gold. As the simple goblin he was, he rarely showed emotion, that is why every worker avoided his office like a plague when roaring laughter could be heard from the inside. He had received another request from the young Potter to open yet another vault, giving him a fair idea of what the new business involved.

He had been sceptical the first time he asked for a vault, but that business was thriving as he had seen few before. Ragnok guessed he should have learnt to never doubt an Evans or a motivated Potter.

He remembered Lady Lily Evans with fondness: first as a fierce child that had the audacity to bargain and the intelligence to be respectful. Then, as a woman who had saved his life when death eaters attacked the outside of the bank, fighting four of them and coming victorious. Then, she had healed him when it got evident no one else would help a goblin. His father, King Huab Tais, declared her a friend of the goblin nation for risking her life in order to protect him.

When she married James Potter, she had invited every goblin she met even when she knew they were not allowed to leave the bank because she considered them friends. When she became a Potter, she was the most ruthless businessperson he had ever met. After Charlus, of course. That is why when her child told him he wanted to but the whole actions of the dragon reserves on which his mother invested, he had not told the child that he did not have enough money in his trust vault, instead, he loaned the necessary gold. He had gotten back his capital and some more in less than two months, thing that he was not expecting in the least.

Soon after the large condor delivered the letter, the child's house-elf arrived at his office with an important and a special request that made him cackle in glee, the Ministry would pay in blood for their corruption and this was just the beginning. It seemed Lily's child had inherited more than her beauty and, perhaps in the future, he could also be called a friend.

Through Gringotts, Harry hired a lawyer, who according to them, was fiercer in court than any of them in battle. They were going to meet in a week but before he needed to do a few things to ensure his success, which meant writing another letter and arranging a meeting.

Monday evening, Ella popped him in the disgusting Leaky Cauldron. Composing his best smile, he approached the bartender.

"Good evening sir, did the guest of the room fifteen arrive?"

"Yeah, she did, be careful with that woman, lad," the confused man advised and he smiled in return. Perhaps Tom was not so bad after all.

He opened the door to the plain room where a woman waited. He noticed that she was particularly unattractive, her heavy make up along with stiff hair gave her a plastic appearance, but he was pleased to see his clothes on display, even when the model did not match them.

"Is this a joke?!" the woman screeched, eyeing him with disdain. "I came here for the promise of an exclusive, not to meet a useless brat!"

Harry sighed, something that he seemed to be doing a lot lately. He flared his magic and the woman widened her eyes, with a silent order, she sat back again. He guessed people were not used to having their bodies controlled, if the fear in her eyes was any indication.

"Now that we are calm let me begin. My name is Harry Potter," at his declaration the woman's eyes almost popped out, "as I told you through the letter, I have an exclusive if you agree with my terms, look up if you agree and to the side if you don't," the woman looked up with no time to waste. "Good, I will lay my conditions first. As you know, I have never given an interview before and I’m offering the chance for you to write about me. That also means that every time I needed to talk with the press you will be the only one allowed to interview me. However, in exchange for this privilege, I have a few demands. First, whatever you write, dear Rita, will be done to favour me and second is that you have to consult me before writing something. That means not a single coma will be written if I dislike it," he finished, freeing the woman whose greedy eyes filled with rage once he stated his demands, which put her in a leash, shackles, and cage.

"What do you think you can do if I don't agree to, boy?" the woman spat with a sneer. "Your betters have tried to control what I write and they failed. You have no power to force me!" she exclaimed, glaring at him.

He sighed once again at her ignorance and stupidity. Better? Than him? That was impossible and the vermin in front of him would have to learn the hard way. Rita fell down to the floor screaming in agony and she noted with horror that no sound came out from her mouth. After a few agonizing seconds, the pain stopped.

"It is obvious you do not understand the honour I’m giving you. A person like me, lowering himself in order to speak with vermin. I don't need you. Can you guess how many others would kill for this chance? You are nothing but convenient, I can contact any other reporter and they would agree without any hesitation," he sneered at the trash at his feet.

"Wait, I agree... I agree," the woman gasped when he turned to leave.

"I will give you one chance, Rita, if you fail me you will not like the consequences."

"I understand," she whispered, knowing that at least now she had some value to the boy otherwise she shivered to think what he would have done in order to eliminate the evidence. Dealing with the Devil was better than the alternative.

The day Marcus Travers was left out of the hospital wing, Harry was already planning in case the prefect forgot his lesson. To his surprise, the older boy had asked permission to sit beside them during breakfast, an interaction that the other Slytherin observed with horror and morbid anticipation. When Harry agreed and continued eating in silence, a collective breath of relief was left out.

This continued until Travers asked permission to join them in the library, curious about what his motivation was, Harry agreed. To his great surprise, the prefect offered his help when he saw him reading The Different Languages of Runes and Mixed Applications, he would not lower his guard but neither would he deprive himself of a teacher or an intelligent conversation. This pattern continued until the day of his meeting the solicitor in Gringotts, he was still curious about the upperclassman's motivation but did not care enough to find out. His loyal friend, Ella, once again popped him out of Hogwarts into Ragnok's office, which had the door open.

"It is good to see you again Ragnok," he greeted the goblin who was immersed in papers.

"Ah, I would say the same Harry, if it was not for the amount of paperwork I have to fill thanks to you," the man complained, wearing a smirk.

"I guess the business is going well."

"It is, have you found any parselmouth to work in the reserves?"

"I can't put that announcement in the newspaper. One of the reasons I’m travelling to the Asian Empire in a few months is to find one."

"Indeed, any other business I should know about so I can prepare the paperwork and enjoy my Yule?" the goblin asked.

"A few, but Ploutos is taking care of them. Be ready to open vaults at any moment though."

"Ah, the business-elf and his team of ruthless advisors, they are making good business. The restaurant that opened last week is always full, and that new service that they offer 'take-out-food'," Ragnok pronounced slowly, "is a really good service, my people are constant clients."

"I’m glad you enjoyed it, I was surprised when people kept flooding the place so we implemented a few muggle ideas. My elves are happy to work, there is not enough to do in the castle."

"At this rate, you will need to get more."

"Perhaps, any idea of where?" Harry asked, wondering what was his manager planning.

"Ministry elves are always for sale, the bastards are unable to understand how valuable they are."

"Is that so? Then it would be fortunate if someone started buying the elves and to leave the poor Ministry without them, don't you agree?"

"A true shame, especially because the payments have to be done through the bank and no one really monitors it," Ragnok answered with a nasty smile. "Too bad they have not changed the price of one galleon per elf since four hundred years ago," he added satisfied.

"A shame indeed, Rome?" Harry called the head elf.

"Young Master called," the elf popped in.

"Indeed, dear Rome, we will have new elves coming in a few days. They worked for the Ministry once so they will be scared, please, be kind to them. I will be going to the castle in a few days and we will give them new names if they want. If there is not enough space in the elf wing, find them other rooms in the castle. It's not like we use them anyway."

"I will do so, Young Master is so kind." the elf muttered with tears shining in his eyes.

"It is the least I can do, and you are all my family, dear Rome, it is only natural. I will let you work now," he said to the elf in a gentle tone.

"Yes sir, I'll prepare the house for the new elves," Rome said and popped out of the room.

"That done, I think I will pay half a galleon for each elf. How many are they?"

"I will prepare the paperwork," Ragnok muttered with a strange version of a pout and wrote in his book. "There are three hundred and ninety-six elves working at the Ministry," he announced and chuckled at the boy's wide eyes.

"And you are saying they won't be missed..."

"They won't, their job is to clean the floor of the basements at night. Through generations, people have forgotten the Ministry owns the major quantity of elves in the United Kingdom and they hired human cleaners. I would be surprised if someone even notices the money."

"Then buy them all, the vermin at the Ministry don't deserve to have elves. Call Rome to retrieve them once the paperwork is done, please."

"I will, but now I believe it is time to meet Miss Blair."

They walked through a hallway and took turns that confused the young boy, finally, they arrived at a meeting room where a middle-aged woman, dressed in formal wear waited. The contrast of her platinum hair and browned caramel skin was quite attractive, Harry decided. Wondering if a tan would look good on him.

"Good morning Attorney Blair, I apologize for the lateness, I distracted Manager Ragnok with personal matters," Harry apologized with a slight bow.

"Don't worry Mister Potter, you are on time. I arrived early just in case. Before we begin, I have to tell you that I do not, under any circumstance, accept a case where dishonesty is involved," the woman stated with a void expression.

"Good, that is what I was hoping to listen. Let's take a seat, the case I want to bring to you will probably be the hardest and most satisfying you will ever find, but I need you to sign this, just in case you reject it," the boy informed passing her a simple non-disclosure agreement.

"You have worked with our race for many years. I assure you, Miss Blair, that you will love this case," Ragnok promised the woman. Reading the paper over again, she signed.

"I’m pleased you are willing to hear what I have to say. First, I want to sue the author of these books," Harry said, showing the books that contained his supposed adventures. "In this folder, we have all the information about the author and the publishers. The second matter will be much more complicated. It involves the freedom of Sirius Black and before you object, I must inform you he never had a trial. Ragnok collected all the information about his case and many details are... Unclear at best. I just want him to have a fair trial," he explained the surprised woman and handed her another folder, then an idea struck him and he felt like a moron for not thinking about it. "Ares, Mars?"

"Young Master called," the two elves popped in and the woman's eyes widened at their sight, he wondered if it was because she was surprised to see elves or surprised to see decently dressed ones.

"Thank you for coming. I have a few questions, what do you remember about Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew?"

"Mister Black was Master James best friend, he came to live at the castle when they were sixteen. Mister Pettigrew was a disgusting rat that thought he could order us around," Ares huffed.

"I see... is there a house or belonging you can feel about either of them?" Harry asked.

"I feel no house from either, but I feel Mister Black in a dark, cold place... Mister Pettigrew, I feel him at a high place in Hogwarts," Mars stated looking thoughtful, ignoring the shock of the other people. "It doesn't feel normal though, I can't visualize his physical shape but I’m still able to feel his magic."

"He is wearing his rat shape," Ares clarified.

"Pettigrew is dead!" the woman exclaimed, tired of the joke the kid was trying to play on her.

"If my elves feel him it means he is not. What do you mean by rat shape, Ares?" the boy asked, ignoring the lawyer’s outburst.

"Master James and his friends were animagus: Master was a stag, mister Black a grim, and Pettigrew was a slimy rat," the elf described with a smile.

"Well, that was unexpected. Anyways, I have an important mission for you two. Capture the rat and ensure he is unable to turn or escape," he ordered to the two elves that nodded and popped out. Surprisingly, not a minute later, the elves appeared once again, carrying a cage that contained an ugly rat that was looking around in fear.

"We captured the disgusting rat and we took this away from him," they informed looking proud, presenting two wands and a worn parchment.

"You did an excellent job, can you force him to turn back?" Without words, the cage was enlarged and an ugly man replaced the rat.

"Harry, oh sweet Harry, you look just like your mother," the man blabbered looking around in desperation.

"Ares, is there a way of making him talk?"

"Master will need a Leglimence to take the rat’s memories."

“I’m a Leglimence,” Miss Blair muttered, still looking shocked.

"I’m really thankful for your offer, Miss Blair. Mars, can you bring the pensieve from the castle?" Harry requested and an excited elf nodded.

"I think it would be appropriate to call Madam Bones," the goblin added, still looking shocked but writing in his book.

Amelia Bones was having a relaxing Saturday morning, which was interrupted by an emergency floo call from the goblin's relations manager, who was authorized to give her a portkey directly to the bank. The situation alarmed in extreme because no one was given those portkeys unless there was a life or death situation, her worries only grew when she was received by the Bank Manager, Ragnok. She did not know what she was expecting, but what awaited her in the meeting room was not it. A man who was supposedly dead inside a cage, a renowned lawyer, and Harry Potter, talking with two elegantly dressed elves, was definitely not what she was expecting. Finding out Sirius Black was innocent, Peter Pettigrew a loyal death eater, and discovering many names were going to be dragged through the mud was not what she had planned for a weekend.

"I will personally retrieve Mister Black from Azkaban and place him somewhere safe," Amelia muttered in a daze.

"I suggest another option," Mars intervened, "we can retrieve him from the prison and place an illusion so no one notices, then take him to the castle to heal. Mistress Eleadora will be pleased to have someone to nurse, such a shame she is not allowed to be a healer," the elf lamented.

"I agree, you are really intelligent Mars," the boy complimented his elf. She didn't have enough energy to object.

"What will we do with Pettigrew?"

"Can we can have him as target practice?" Ares asked excitedly. "I promise he won't be able to escape, we need a good target, for the new elves and all that."

Target practice? New elves? The day only got weirder and weirder.

"Is there a way you can seal his magic, just in case when the trial takes place," Ragnok asked.

"We can do that!" they both confirmed.

"Good, then you can have him as target practice, but only until the trial," the boy agreed and the elves cheered, popping out with cage in tow.

Damn it! She should have said something.

"Do you think that is wise Mister Potter?" the lawyer asked.

"Yeah, anyone who displeased mother was used as target practice," the boy commented offhandedly, as if speaking of the weather.

"That is not what I meant, but it is good to know. But you believe elves will be able to contain him or even be able to seal his magic?" the other woman asked, looking sceptical, but still too overwhelmed to organize her ideas.

How could Amelia blame her? She was too shocked to do anything else than observe. Maybe she would have her own pity party in the evening and leave Florean Fortesque out of chocolate ice-cream. Yup, that was definitely a plan.

"I do, my elves are more than capable, and after all, they were the ones that captured the rat."

Maybe she would add a bit of that muggle beverage named vodka. Or a lot.

Andra Blair was a serious woman who had worked hard to get where she was. That is why she agreed to meet Harry Potter, because she knew that would cement her place as one of the best lawyers. She was not expecting what had happened in that meeting. Discovering lies and corruption was normal, but when the trial of Sirius Black arrived, few would be able to end unscathed. She was more than ready to raid Honeydukes after Harry Potter expressed his last request. For such an angelic-looking boy, his mind was terrifying.

"I have one last request Miss Blair" the boy announced when Madam Bones left. "After the trial of Sirius Black, I wish to sue the Ministry," he said, a pleased smile on his lips.

That is when Andra knew that her chocolate ingestion would rise dramatically while working for the last Potter, along with her nicotine consumption.

Oh well, at least she was being paid more than enough for all the hassle.

Harry Potter was waiting for the Sunday Prophet with satisfaction almost pouring out of him. The week had been productive, to say the least, and now the first results would be shown.

"Why do you want to have breakfast in the hall? The school elves love you and they always bring you, and by extension me, food to your room, which by the way is way better than the hall!" Theo exclaimed looking frustrated and Marcus was looking curious.

"I always wondered why I never saw you on weekends... May I ask what you did to your room? Before that night we tried to enter it but it would not open, and the handle bit Joseph when he tried to curse it," the older boy explained, blushing bright red.

"I have no idea, maybe Ella put on some wards. Ah, considering that she is smarter than me, I’m going to assume she did because I forgot we had to protect our rooms," Harry explained with a sigh that earned him a confused look from the older boy, but before he could inquire further, the owls carrying the newspaper flew in the hall and he smiled seeing the front page

THE BETRAYAL OF THE BOY-WHO-LIVED!

By Rita Skeeter

The title resumes the story, my dear readers, during the last days of August, I was having lunch in the Leaky Cauldron but not even in my wildest daydreams I imagined meeting a boy that had the lightning scar and resembled our beautiful Lily Potter. That is right, I met Harry Potter while he shopped for his school materials! Wanting to take advantage of the fact that I had finally met our hero, I asked for an interview and the boy agreed, much to my surprise, he did not know how famous he is in our world. However, that was not the only surprise I got. Much to my shame, I discovered some heart-wrenching facts that I did not wish to believe because, if they were true, it meant we had not only failed our saviour, but also betrayed all of his sacrifices.

One of the reasons I’m writing this article now, is because I had to confirm what Harry Potter told me was real. I must admit I cried for hours after discovering that every word the gentle boy had uttered was nothing else than the pure truth. Without further ado, I will tell about the tragic life of our saviour.

We were told that he lived with a magical family, far away from England for his own protection. This could not be further from the truth. After James and Lily Potter were murdered by You-know-who, he was sent to his maternal aunt, the muggle sister of his mother. I looked information about her, the only thing I got was her address, and the disturbing notion that she loathed magic, but I did not believe that to be possible. When I visited the woman, I was horrified at her obvious loathing towards our hero and our society. I discovered her husband had been sent to prison for child abuse and she was on probation for the neglect of Harry Potter. The woman announced with satisfaction how she had dropped our hero on the street end left him to his luck, I must admit that I was not satisfied with such a light punishment to such horrid creatures (read the interview with Petunia Dursley, aunt of Harry Potter in page 6).

After this painful confirmation, I looked for the orphanages the young Potter mentioned to have lived in. I was pained to notice he had lived in such a condition for so many years. In the first orphanage I visited, the caretakers talked about the child as if he was a monster, calling him freak for the bouts of accidental magic he showed from a young age. Then I talked with his elementary school principal, who had nothing but praises to give when talking about him. He said he had arranged for orphanage relocation because the boy was mistreated. This relieved and horrified me at the same time because Harry Potter was relocated at the tender age of six.

When I talked with the Matron of the new orphanage, I was relieved because she described our young hero as and I quote: "Most gentle and caring child I have ever met, he always finds ways of helping and has such a bright mind that he skipped a few years. I have never met such a well behaved darling before." However, my apprehension returned when she commented a few caretakers disliked the child because, sometimes, strange things happened around him.

Now I must ask you, my dear readers, who are the monsters that placed such a powerful child with muggles that hated magic? Who is the monster that did not look out for his health or well-being? Why were we lied to for so long about him? I, for once, want justice! I did not want to believe I was a bad person who rejoiced while our Saviour suffered, but I was. My fellow witches and wizards, I invite you to read the following interview with Harry Potter and know that even with our betrayal, he holds no grudges. I invite you to meet the boy behind the scar, and I invite you to read his truth.

RS: I thank you for giving me his opportunity, Mister Potter.

HP: No need to thank me, Miss Skeeter, but please call me Harry.

RS: So Harry, how was the life with your family? We are informed about your adventures while growing up.

HP: I beg your pardon for my brusque question ma'am. What are you talking about? I lived with my mother's muggle sister for a time, then I was raised in orphanages. The only adventures I have is running away from the bullies and a few bouts of accidental magic that used to scare me.

RS: (As you can imagine, I was shocked at these revelations). What do you mean an orphanage? Mister Garryot Hillocked wrote about your life and epic adventures together.

HP: I have no idea who you mean. The most dangerous adventure I ever had was my weekly visit to the London Library and I have no idea who Mister Hillocked is. I was surprised when the headmaster of Hogwarts told me I was famous, all my life people have judged me for my magic, being either scared or tried to beat it out of me.

RS: (At these revelations, I had already entered in denial). Are you saying all those stories are fake?

HP: As I mentioned before, I do not know the man, thus I have no idea what he wrote about. For example, I had no idea magic existed until Headmaster Albus Dumbledore and Professor Severus Snape informed me a few weeks before my eleventh birthday. I’m so happy at the idea of magic existing because it means more people like me are around and that I will finally be able to have friends!

RS: (At this innocent exclamation my heart broke, because it was clear our beloved saviour had never received the love of a family or the warmth of a friendship). That is all Harry, I hope you have a good day.

HP: Likewise, Miss Skeeter, I would have never imagined I would give an interview. Take care!

With those humble words, the child left and I decided to investigate if all the things he told me about his life were true, which to my shame, resulted being real. I also took the liberty of finding out how his life in Hogwarts was. You must understand my shock when I talked with some mothers and how they described the boy through their children letters. Some called him evil, others the next Dark Lord in training, a few called him a slimy snake that cheated because no one could be so good at school, or swearing that he was bribing the teachers because that is what Slytherins do. You must understand the reason why my heart broke, because I had already seen our hero's painful past that was apparently following him into our world. Worried sick, I wrote to him and I will put a segment of the letter he wrote back.

"I did not know that my classmates believed that, though that may explain why I have only a friend in my house that suffers the same treatment I do. I guess there is nothing to do about it, in my muggle school, the same situation was a normal occurrence. I know they did not like me because the theory is easy to understand for me. Performing spells come easy to me but I also work hard to obtain the best results. I understand their jealousy and I don't blame them because we are kids, after all, and it is a normal reaction.

Do you know why I was sorted in Slytherin, Miss Skeeter? It is because my greatest ambition is for my parents to be proud of me. My father was talented and my mother was brilliant, I wish to follow their footsteps and be the best person I can become. Thank you for worrying so much about me, Miss Skeeter, no one had done that before."

With that heart-wrenching note, the boy-who-lived stated his farewell. What will we do now my fellow citizens? Will we continue hurting our saviour? Will we continue encouraging our children to do the same only because he was sorted into Slytherin? I must admit with great shame, that I was among the ones who believed that Slytherins equalled evil, conveniently forgetting Merlin himself was one. What kind of people are we that our children discriminate others falling into our same zealotry? Will we continue teaching bigotry to our children and hating an innocent? No longer, I say! I will strive to rectify my misdeeds and I encourage you to do the same. I will protect Harry Potter the same way he defended us from the Dark Lord!

Harry Potter smiled at the article, he admitted that Rita had a talent to move the masses. Sunday was the day more people received the newspaper so most, if not all of magical Britain already had a copy. By the pale expressions and teary eyes that dominated the hall, it was easy to conclude one problem was taken care of. With satisfaction, he finished his breakfast while Theo and Marcus read the paper.

"So this was your plan," Theo whispered impressed "Now the Ministry will kneel and beg your forgiveness, there is no way they will execute your godfather if you don't want to."

"Let's go," he told the other boy. "You may also come with us, Marcus," he told the boy who had looked like a kicked puppy at the idea of being left behind.

The boys were enjoying a peaceful evening in Harry's room when Rome popped in with tears in his eyes.

"Young Master! They are back!" the little elf exclaimed and Marcus eyed him with curiosity.

"Calm down Rome, who is back?" Harry asked, worried about the mental health of his elf.

"All of them! The gryphons, hippogriffs, thestrals, Pegasus, alicorns, chimaeras, longmas, nifflers-"

"I understand, Rome," he interrupted before the elf continued to name all the magical species. "Why are they back?"

"Good Mistress Lily enchanted us to sleep but she did not have time to create enchantments for the others and was scared of hurting them so she asked them to leave until the castle awoke again. We finished cleaning the sanctuary and all came back, some are really old but their offspring was taught the family ideals," the little one sobbed.

"I think I need to see them. The Potter sanctuary has been empty for too long, let's go, dear Rome. I will see you tomorrow Theo, Marcus," the boy said and disappeared.

"Do these kinds of things always happen?" Marcus asked, utterly dumbfounded.

"Every now and then, let's leave before we discover the carpets enjoy the taste of human flesh," the young male commented and the other nodded frantically, leaving the room with hurried steps.

Harry had seen many beautiful things in his life, but never before such an awe-striking sight. Alicorns and thestrals playing around, chimaeras and gryphons sleeping together, longmas carrying nifflers around... It was beautiful. When they saw him, ancient-looking individuals of every species walked towards him and by instinct, he bowed. They reciprocated, they accepted him as their new protector... Once more, the Potter Sanctuary hummed with life.

Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts

Nothing was going well for Albus Dumbledore and all had the same source: Harry Potter. The boy was not acting how he was expected, the third-floor corridor was not inspected by him so he had to think of ways of instigating his curiosity. If that was not enough, yesterday, an emergency session of the Wizengamot was called because of the article. Ah, that article revealed delicate information most people wouldn't understand, he did not believe that Rita Skeeter wanted to protect the boy, there was something else but he didn't know what.

Nonetheless, people were claiming for blood, hundreds of howlers were sent to school during lunch, from angry mothers at their children but that was the beginning. The people were calling for the head of the person that had placed young Harry in the muggles house and that meant people were out for his blood, it was good he had covered all of the information about it... And yet he had no doubts the will of the Potters would be unsealed and the boy would learn all about his roots, goblins would declare a feud on him if he ever dared to suggest otherwise. There were also possibilities of Sirius Black being given a trial but, until the moment, people had yet to connect the dots and hoped it stayed that way until after the Wizengamot meeting next month.

Albus had wept until his eyes were sore and his throat was parched the moment he signed the document that condemned that boy to Azkaban. Not for a second he believed Sirius was guilty and there were many inconsistencies, but it was the right thing to do. The man would have spoiled the child rotten and that was not how Harry needed to grow up. He only hoped no one challenged his custody over the boy, things were hard enough without the extra hassle. His wards alerted him the boy in question was coming to his office, along with Filius.

"Hello Harry, it is good to see you. Now you can leave Filius, thanks," he dismissed the professor.

"I’m sorry, Albus, but Mister Potter asked me to accompany him, after all, he is in no trouble and it is not likely for this to be personal," he explained and took a sit.

"Very well," he agreed, yet another thing that did not go his way. "I must ask you about the interview you gave Miss Skeeter," Dumbledore began, waiting for the child to respond but he only tilted his head in curiosity. "Was it necessary to give so much information?"

"I gave the basics of my life headmaster when you told me I was famous you did not explain how much. I believed my fame was like the community heroes that are known one day and forgotten the next."

"I see, but I must forbid you to talk with the press from now on," he said with his grandfatherly persona, it was unfortunate nothing went his way these last months.

"And by what power are you able to forbid Mister Potter liberty of expression, Albus? Only his magical guardian can do that and that is only in case the person is willing to agree. Since when are you his magical guardian?" the professor asked, glaring with sharp eyes.

"I didn't mean to imply that, I guess I let my worries for Harry's well being overwhelm me," he backtracked. He was a powerful man but few knew that he had never managed to defeat Filius in a duel, the little man was deathly in battle. Even when the goblin was older than him, he had no doubt that he would be challenged to a duel and be brutally defeated if he ever discovered he was the one who placed the boy with the muggles. "Though I hope you seek my counsel before talking with any reporter again."

"I wouldn't like to bother, headmaster, you are a busy man. I will ask Professor Flitwick to help me with the next interview if he doesn't mind."

"I will be glad to help, now I think is almost time for classes, Albus."

"Have a good day headmaster," the boy said and both left.

If there was nothing he could do about the boy talking with Miss Skeeter, maybe he could talk with the editor. His wards flared announcing Minerva and he flinched, nothing was going his way.