Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Shades of Gray ❯ Chapter 5: The Snake ( Chapter 5 )

Title: Shades of Gray: The Snake

Author: Shadow Rebirth

Beta Reader: StormyBabe1988

Rating: T/PG-13

Warnings: Death, blood and gore, language, spoilers

Chapter WC: 6,513

Story WC: 25,310

Last Edited: November 14, 2008

Posted: September 15, 2008

Summary: Harry has a dark secret: He isn't a wizard. But that certainly doesn't mean he can't do magic. It was too bad it also meant that in the face of fanatical governments and enraged demigods, Voldemort was going to be the least of his problems. AU, Gray!Harry, foreign school, vampires, werewolves, politics, no pairings.

 

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Shades of Gray

 

Chapter 5

The Snake

 

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On the evening of the 13th of August Harry was nervous as hell. He would be leaving tomorrow. Tomorrow. Just a few more hours.

 

Taking a deep breath, Harry pulled his black cloak out of his trunk. He was going to be going to Knockturn Alley again tonight to get the last couple of things that he needed; he had managed to get the rest over the past few weeks. Then, tomorrow morning, he would talk to his relatives before apparating to Heathrow Airport.

 

Glancing down and noticing that his hands were shaking, Harry took a second deep breath. He really needed to get his emotions under control. He'd always been so good about that, but this summer really seemed to be fraying his nerves.

 

Pushing all of his thoughts away and focusing on what needed to be done, Harry pulled his cloak on and changed his appearance. Thinking ahead, he transfigured another fake wand from air and tucked it into his pocket. Double checking to make sure that he had everything—and that Mundungus was indeed on duty again—Harry Apparated out of his room with a soft pop.

 

Appearing in Diagon Alley, Harry quickly swept toward Gringotts. Fortunately, he slipped into the routine of heading to the bank with ease, which helped to calm him down. Breathing deeply, he silently berated himself for loosing control so easily. Going to Silvermoor wasn't going to be a problem; it was just the fear of the unknown that was affecting him. After all, if what Mikhailova had said was true, then he was exceptionally powerful even for a mage.

 

Inside the bank, Harry asked for Grimsheild like he usually did and then, per usual, was led to the older goblins office. Grimsheild still looked the same as when he first saw him, Harry thought fondly as he stepped into his office. Grimsheild looked up as he did and promptly smirked.

 

"Well," Grimsheild said. "I'm not used to seeing you many times in one summer. This is what, your third visit?"

 

Harry grinned in reply. "Yep, but this'll be the last." Harry gulped then, before pushing his nerves down once more.

 

"Ah, yes," Grimsheild said, his face going serious. "You'll be leaving tomorrow, won't you?"

 

"Y-yes."

 

"Well then, I wish you the best of luck. May you prosper well in your proper environment."

 

Harry smiled at Grimsheild. "Thank you," he murmured. "For everything."

 

Grimsheild chuckled. "Of course. And, please, don't act like we won't see each other again. You'll see me the next time you come to Gringotts. I am your account manager after all, no matter what country you are in." Grimsheild paused and then suddenly stood up. "Which reminds me," he murmured.

 

Grimsheild quickly strode around his desk to where Harry was standing near the door. "Come with me," the goblin said. "There's something else that I need to tell you about."

 

Blinking, Harry did so, following Grimsheild as he began to stride down the hall, moving further into Gringotts. The two of them stayed silent for several minutes, until Grimsheild finally spoke up.

 

"We," he began, "Are heading to what is known as Inner Gringotts. You could say that it's the Gringotts for magical beings." Grimsheild flashed Harry a grin then. Harry for part was surprised. Before he could question Grimsheild however, the goblin began to explain. "We goblins are magical creatures too, if you'll remember. As such we have created an entire section of the bank that is only for the use of magical beings. This is especially helpful since Gringotts in the only magical bank and wizards don't even know about the existence of most magic beings, let alone the extent of their society."

 

Harry's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Really?" he asked. "I wouldn't have guessed, though, now that I think about it, that does make sense."

 

Grimsheild chuckled. "Yes, most wizards don't either," he stated. At that moment they stopped before a large pair of black wooden doors. Motioning Harry to stay back, Grimsheild approached the doors and laid a hand on the door handle. He waited like that for a moment until, suddenly, a flash of light surrounded the handles before spreading out across the door. It happened so quickly that if Harry had blinked, he would have missed it. Grimsheild removed his hand then, and the doors slowly grinded open by themselves.

 

What lay on the other side of large pair of double doors left Harry gaping in shock. It was a large room, nearly as large as the Great Hall at Hogwarts with a larger stained glass dome ceiling up above. There were numerous tellers lining the walls and many people of all different races walking about. Of them Harry recognized mages—whom all looked perfectly human—, a few vampires—which he could distinguish by their white skin—, some werewolves—they all had golden eyes—, a couple of elves—who all had pointed ears—, a handful of fayerie—with their pale hair and bluish-green skin—, as well as some veela and centaurs.

 

Harry stood in the door a moment longer, still staring. So these were magical beings; people very similar to him. Harry especially looked at those whom looked like average witches and wizards, knowing that they were mages like him. Had all of them attended Silvermoor too? Were some of them current students there?

 

Harry snapped out of his reverie when Grimsheild began to move into the room. As he followed the goblin Harry was careful to hide his awe; it wouldn't do to stand out now. Grimsheild kept moving until they were on the other side of the room. There, along the back wall, nearly fifty black disks were lying on the floor. These disks were about three feet in diameter and about four inches thick. Harry noticed that engraved in white on the disks were names; names of places it looked like.

 

As he watched, a vampire stepped up onto a disk that had "Berlin, Germany" written on it. The vampire stood still for a moment and, suddenly, a bright bluish light flashed up around him. When the light faded away, the vampire was gone. Harry turned to a grinning Grimsheild for explanation.

 

"These," Grimsheild told Harry. "Are transport disks. There is a set of these in every branch of Gringotts. When you step on a disk it will take you to corresponding disk in the branch stated on the disk. Using these you can instantly get to any Gringotts branch in the world."

 

Fascinated, Harry continued to examine the transport disks. As he did a disk towards the back suddenly flared up with the same bluish light that he'd seen earlier. When it faded a red haired elf was standing on the disk. She quickly stepped down and moved toward one of the tellers. Harry turned back to Grimsheild, amazement written across his face.

 

"This is incredible," he breathed. "I've never seen anything like it."

 

Grimsheild grinned at him. "Yes," he said. "That's goblin magic; we don't use our magic much, but when we do we do it for a reason. Transport disks, however, took a couple of centuries for us to complete. Their magic is complex beyond anything that you've probably seen." Grimsheild punctuated his sentence with a nod, pride on his face.

 

"Anyway," he continued. "No matter where you live, your family vaults are still here at this branch in Great Britain. Because of this you'll have to come here whenever you want to withdraw some money. For wizards this is difficult because it means that they have to either transfer all of their gold—which it difficult and expensive—or get an international portkey to return here. For magical creatures, however, the transport disks make life much easier. No matter where you are all you have to do is get to the nearest Gringotts and go to a transport disk.

 

"So, Harry, whenever you need to withdraw some gold, you're still going to have to come see me. However," Grimsheild paused then, looking Harry straight in the eye, "You do have to pay to use them. And the farther you're going, the more it costs. We don't run a free transport system, you have to understand."

 

Harry nodded. "Yes, I see."

 

Grimsheild grinned again. "Alright then!" he said. "Now let's get back to my office." Grimsheild abruptly turned on his heel and began striding away. Harry stood frozen in surprise for a moment before he quickly shook himself off and hurried after his family's account manager.

 

As the two traversed the long and confusing hallways of Gringotts, they once again were caught in silence. Harry, for his part, was too caught up in his thoughts to even notice his surroundings.

 

When they stopped in front of the door to Grimsheild's office, the older goblin looked up at Harry. "One last thing," he said. "Whenever you enter another Gringotts Bank branch, just tell a teller that you need to get to the Inner Gringotts. They'll take you there." Grimsheild looked Harry in the eye. "But be discreet about it please."

 

"I will, Grimsheild," Harry chuckled. "I will. You know me after all; I'm like discretion incarnate."

 

Grimsheild smirked toothily, flashing his sharp teeth. "That you are. That you are." Grimsheild suddenly held pulled out an empty bag. "The usual amount?"

 

"The usual amount."

 

Instantly the bad bulged with what looked like coins. Harry couldn't help but grin; it was always interesting to see that happen. Taking the now filled coin bag from Grimsheild, Harry tucked it inside his coat. Then bidding goodbye to Grimsheild, he headed out of the bank.

 

A few minutes later found Harry with his cloak pulled up as he strode down Knockturn Alley. His first stop was a potions and herbs store.

 

Stepping inside, Harry unconsciously wrinkled his nose at the smells that met his nose. If it weren't for the fact that he'd purchased from this store before, he'd think that it sold old, defective items. As it was however, the shop actually had quite a few rare and good quality substances. Harry was here because he needed some new potion equipment and ingredients; truly, Harry didn't like potions—Snape had almost completely turned him off it—but he understood how helpful it could be sometimes.

 

As soon as he had taken a couple of steps into the store a portly man with squinty eyes and thinning brown hair approached him. The man stared warily at him for a moment, until he caught a glimpse of Harry's brown eyed and haired face beneath his hood.

 

"Ah, Donovan!" the man greeted with a chuckle as he rubbed his hands together. Donovan was the name that Harry had given this man, and as such the name that he was known by whenever he stepped into this shop. "How are you?"

 

"Good, Connor, good. I have, however, found that I'm in need of a couple of things."

 

Connor immediately grinned, his eyes gleaming with the chance to make some money. "Well then, I'm sure that I've got exactly what you need! I just got a shipment of ashwinder eggs. Or perhaps some doxy wings would suit you better. Oh, I've even got a couple—

 

"No, Connor," Harry quickly interjected. He knew that the man would go on and on and list his entire inventory if given a chance. "I'm actually looking for a new cauldron. A good one."

 

Not even noticing that Harry had interrupted him, Connor quickly grinned again and began to move further into the shop, motioning Harry to follow. "Well why didn't you say so! I've got several high quality cauldrons that I think you'll like. I keep them in the back here."

 

Connor continued to ramble as he led Harry down a couple of isles of high shelves filled with potions ingredients. For the most part Harry tuned him out, but he kept an ear open just in case the man said anything of importance. Finally, Connor stopped before a wall that had about five cauldrons standing up against it. Immediately, Harry's eyes were drawn to one of them, which had to be the most outlandish cauldron that he had ever seen. It seemed to be made entirely of shining jewels placed together. Honestly, to Harry it looked for as though it belonged in a museum.

 

Seeing Harry's stare, Connor's grin widened. "That," he began, "Is a fire crab's shell. Yep, those tortoises' shells make highly prized cauldrons. They're so rare that is the first one I've ever managed to get. I can sell it to you for the low price of—"

 

"No thank you, Connor," Harry quickly said. "I need something a bit less...gaudy..."

 

Connor looked put out for a moment, but he quickly picked back up, intelligence flashing behind his eyes. "Well then," Connor continued. "I think I might have just the thing for you." Moving silently despite his large form, Connor approached a pure black cauldron that was standing off to the side. "This," he said as he ran a hand across the rim, "Is made entirely from spelled obsidian. You'll notice that there are runes engraved all around the rim. These help to prevent spills and strengthen the rock; this cauldron will never melt or suffer any major damage."

 

While Harry doubted that the cauldron was as indestructible as Connor said—the man certainly was known for embellishing his products—but from what he could tell it was pretty hardy. Harry studied the cauldron for a moment longer before nodding in satisfaction.

 

"Alright," Harry replied, "I'll take it."

 

Connor clapped his hands in glee, as he always seemed to do when someone bought something. The two talked prices for a couple of minutes after that and Harry also proceeded to order a couple of ingredients that he knew he was running low on. After handing over some money, Harry pulled out his fake wand and shrunk the cauldron and the rest of his purchases before slipping them into the pocket. Waving goodbye to Connor, he left the shop.

 

Now Harry had only one purchase left to make before he would return to the Dursleys. As he headed down Knockturn Alley however, a particular store front caught his eye and caused Harry to pause.

 

'A wizard optometrist?' Harry questioned. He made to move on, but something held him in place. Finally, giving in to his curiosity, Harry slipped inside the shop. To Harry's surprise, the inside of the store was impeccably clean and looked exactly like a waiting room of a muggle doctor office.

 

The dark haired teen paused for a moment, considering leaving, when a wiry middle-aged man stepped into the room through a door to the back.

 

"Ah," he said upon noticing someone in his store. "Hello, hello. What can I do for you today?"

 

Harry hesitated once more. He really had no reason to be here, but...

 

Despite the fact that Harry hadn't said a word, the older man's eyes suddenly brightened up. "Well," he said clapping his hands together. "Regardless you're obviously here because you have poor vision."

 

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Obviously?"

 

The man smirked. "Yes," he replied. "Because this store is spelled to be visible only to those who have glasses or need them. It's because of this that I have to keep this store in Knockturn Alley rather than Diagon Alley." Then man sighed then shrugged. "But what am I going to do, eh? I get enough business as it is; I'm content." The man grinned and then turned his full attention back to Harry. "So what can I do for you today? Do you need a pair of glasses? Or perhaps a checkup? Or even an eye correction?"

 

Harry blinked at the last one, his interest sparked. "Eye correction?"

 

"Yep!" the man said as he continued to grin. "I can correct your eye sight no matter what your subscription is. I can even change your eye color too! It does cost quite a lot, but so long as you're under 18—the age of your magical maturity—it'll be permanent."

 

Harry opened his mouth and then closed it. He really shouldn't, but...

 

A half an hour later Harry walked out of the wizard optometrist's shop with a grin on his face. He hadn't trusted the man at first, but the process and spells used had been explained to him and Harry had truly sensed no ill will from the man, so he'd finally agreed to get his eye sight fixed. After all, if he was going to be going to a new school under a new identity, then a new look was in order.

 

Harry had, actually been working on his appearance a bit over the past few weeks simply by growing his hair out. Harry's hair had always grown like a weed, but he had always carefully controlled it and kept it short. This summer however, Harry had let his hair grow out. Currently, without his glamour, Harry's hair was about shoulder length and was tied back at the nape of his neck. Of course, despite its length his hair was still as unruly as ever.

 

As Harry began to walk along Knockturn Alley again, he focused back on what he had just had done and still felt that he was in slight awe. He didn't have his glasses on any longer, but he could see perfectly! Perhaps this was why he almost never saw witches and wizards with glasses on, and if he did see them they were always older, like McGonagall or Dumbledore. After a bit of internal conflict, Harry had actually decided to forgo getting his eye color changed. He may want to look unrecognizable at Silvermoor, but he wasn't going to be completely leaving the wizarding world and his eyes were something that he'd always liked since they reminded him of his parents; he had, after all, been told many times that they looked exactly like his mother's.

 

Harry continued down the alley for another minute or so until he reached his final destination: a small store hidden in the back of the alley. Stepping inside, Harry had to wait a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the gloom of the store. Once he had however, he quickly took stock of his surroundings.

 

The store Harry was in was basically a pet shop for rare and dangerous animals—magical and mundane alike. It did, however, also sell some other items that were often used in the handling of said dangerous animals. In particular, Harry knew that they sold some very superlative dragon hide gloves that he had been meaning to buy for a while.

 

As Harry moved further into the small shop—well, at least it seemed small from where he was. Regardless, Harry knew that most of the products were actually kept in the back, behind some strong wards—he looked around at the selection of products offered. Something small however, caught his eye. Moving over to it, Harry saw that it was what appeared to be a small silver-green money bag. Harry reached out and held the moneybag and was shocked to feel it shrink in his hand.

 

"Interesting, isn't it?" a voice behind Harry said.

 

Jerking in surprise, Harry quickly let go of the purse and spun around, only to see a small wiry man standing near the door that led to the back of the shop. The man moved silently across the floor towards Harry, his eyes not on the currently brown haired teen, but on the moneybags. Stopping near Harry, he continued.

 

"These are moke-skin moneybags," he said. "Mokes are amazing little creatures. They're small lizards about ten inches in length that you can find naturally throughout Britain and Ireland that can shrink on will. Because of this, moneybags such as this one can shrink and expand as their owner wills them to, making it very hard for thieves to get their hands on."

 

Harry's eyebrows rose as he looked approvingly at the moneybag. Something like that could be very useful to have, especially since Harry often found himself carrying around a good amount of money. Granted, Harry could stop anyone whom tried to steal from him anyway, but a little extra protection never hurt.

 

"And how exactly do they recognize their owner?" Harry asked offhandedly.

 

The shopkeeper smirked. "By letting a drop of your blood fall into the bag."

 

Again Harry's eyebrows rose, but he couldn't but smirk as well. "Alright," Harry said after a moment. "I'll take it."

 

With a grin the older man swept the moneybag up and placed in on the counter in the back of the room, which he then swiftly moved behind. "Good, good. Is there anything else that I can get you?"

 

"Yes, actually," Harry replied, his face going serious once more. "A pair of Hebridean Black dragon-hide gloves and boots."

 

The shopkeeper's eyes rose at the costly purchase, but he said nothing and instead moved once more towards the door that led to the back of the shop.

 

"Follow me then."

 

Harry did so, though cautiously. As he passed through the doorway to the back of the shop, Harry could feel the wards wash around him. He ignored them, however, in favoring of glancing around the room that he was in.

 

This room was a fair bit larger than the one up front. It was lined with cages filled with every animal under the sun, from lions and tigers to chimeras and fwoopers. On the back wall was a wide array of shelves on which the shopkeeper kept his supply of dragon hide items. Said items the older man was currently rustling through.

 

Harry began to move across the room toward the shopkeeper, but half way across his attention was diverted by several voices.

 

"—if you think that you're so—"

 

"—I have never seen such atrocious—"

 

"—maybe if I just went—"

 

"—well of course you'd think that! I mean you—"

 

"—and why shouldn't I—"

 

"—sun is so bright today that I just want to—"

 

Blinking in surprise Harry came up short. He looked all around him, but he couldn't see anyone else in the room but him, the shopkeeper, and the animals. Hesitantly, Harry took a step forward, but he could still hear the voices loud and clear while the old shopkeeper seemed to be oblivious.

 

Harry took a good look around once more and, after a moment, his eyes landed on a glass case, which seemed to be the source of the noise. In that case was snake unlike any that he had seen before. It was white with black stripes—quite like a white tiger, now that he though about it—and was about three feet long. What was so shocking about the snake however was that it had three heads, which seemed to be arguing with each other! Or, rather, the first and third heads were arguing vehemently, while the middle one stared dreamily off into space, mumbling to itself.

 

So engrossed in staring amazedly at the snake Harry was that he very nearly jumped again when the shopkeeper stepped up beside him. "What is that?" Harry asked, his eyes still glued to the hissing snake...Or was it snakes?

 

"An albino runespoor," the older man murmured, looking at the snake as well. "Runespoors are three headed snakes that originate in Burkina Faso, Africa. They are usually bright orange with black stripes instead of white, but as I said this one is an albino. They can reach up to six or seven feet in length. What's really fascinating about them though, is that all three heads operate independently, and have their own jobs. The left head—as seen by us facing the serpent—is the planner; it decides what the snake is going to do next. The middle head is the dreamer, and its fantasies can sometimes cause the runespoor to lie still for several days at a time. And, finally, the right head is the critic. It evaluates the other heads efforts in, apparently, a continued irritably hissing. That head is also very venomous"

 

Harry blinked surprise and stared down at the runespoor. No wonder the snake was arguing with itself; it was like three snakes in one. How...interesting.

 

Moving his attention away from the albino runespoor, Harry straightened up and turned to face the shopkeeper. Immediately the older man held out a pair of black dragon-hide gloves in one hand, and a pair of similar boots in the other. Harry took them from the man and looked them over. Feeling the roughness of the scales of the hide Harry nodded; these looked like Hebridean Black hide alright.

 

"They're spelled to automatically fit your size," the shopkeeper commented, motioning to the gloves and boots. "And they'll change as you do, or to anyone else who uses them."

 

Harry nodded his thanks and then looked over to the glass case, in which the runespoor was still arguing. He stared at it for a moment before making a split second decision and turning his attention back to the shopkeeper; he did need a new familiar after all.

 

"I'll take it," he said. "I'll take the runespoor."

 

The shopkeeper stared at Harry in surprise for a moment before breaking out into grin. "Really? That's great! Honestly, I never thought that anyone would buy it; people tend to buy runespoors because of their intimidating appearance, but since this one's an albino, well..."

 

The shopkeeper cut himself off, still grinning. "Wait here please," he continued. "I'm going to ring everything up; I'll be right back." He then hurried back to the front of the store, leaving Harry alone with the animals.

 

Harry waited until his was sure that the shopkeeper was gone, and then he crouched down in front of the glass case so that he was eye level with the runespoor.

 

"Hello," he hissed out in parsletongue. Immediately, all three heads went silent and jerked around to stare straight at him. Honestly, Harry felt that it was fairly unnerving to have all three heads of a three headed snake staring unblinking at you. And the fact that they had blood red eyes because it was albino didn't help at all.

 

Finally, after a moment, the left head—the planner if the shopkeeper was to be believed—spoke. "You Speak," it hissed quietly in a distinctly female voice.

 

"Yes," Harry replied.

 

"Mmm," the middle head said in a dreamy voice—that, again, was female. "I've always wanted to meet a Speaker. I always thought that if we met one—"

 

"Oh please," the right head scoffed in a voice just a female as the others. "It's a Speaker, not a god! You two idiots act as though it's some sort of bloody miracle. Speakers are rare, but they're not thatspecial."

 

The left head turned to glare at the right. "Oh and have you ever met a Speaker? No, you haven't! Because you're a part of us! I swear, if you would just think before you speak—"

 

"Oh, think like youdo, Ms. We-Have-to-Think-Everything-Out?! And even that you do such a horrible job at!"

 

Harry stared blankly at the runespoor as the left and right heads continued to argue with each other. The middle head, however seemed to not be hearing the other heads at all. It just kind of hung there lazily, watching Harry.

 

"So," the middle head suddenly began, "Will you be taking us with you then?" Immediately the other two heads cut themselves off and swiveled around to stare at Harry.

 

"Erm," Harry hesitated. "If you don't mind..."

 

The middle head smiled dreamily but said nothing in reply. The left head however cocked her head and began studying Harry intensely.

 

"Yes," she said. "Yes, that would work. We need to get out of here anyway, and having a Speaker as an owner is far better than any lowlife dark wizard wannabe." Harry paused in his thoughts for a moment and stared at her. For a moment he could swear that it was Hermione talking to him instead of a snake. And come to mention it, the middle head sounded an awful lot like Luna too.

 

The right head rolled her eyes. "Well, this just may be the best idea you two dolts have ever come up with," she said grudgingly.

 

Harry's eyebrows rose. Well, if he was going to get a pet, an intelligent serpent that he could talk to was definitely his best bet.

 

"I'm Harry Potter," he said by way of introducing himself. He figured that he'd be best to give out his real name; and besides, who was the snake going to tell?

 

The left head smirked. "I'm Layla. Next to me is Kiya, and last is—"

 

"I can introduce myself, thanks," the right head snapped. She then turned to look at Harry, holding her head high. "I am Isis."

 

Layla, the left head, rolled her eyes and grumbled under her breath. Kiya, on the other hand, seemed to be completely unaware of what was going on around her as she proceeded to stare off into space.

 

At that moment, the shopkeeper returned. Harry straightened and faced the man, watching out of the corner of his eyes as the albino runespoor's heads lifted up to stare at the shopkeeper. The two of them then proceeded to talk about prices for a minute or two before Harry finally agreed and handed over some gold.

 

"Would you like to keep the runespoor in the glass case, or...?"

 

Harry shook his head. "No thanks; I'll just take her with me." That said, Harry reached over, pulled the top off the container, and reached his hand in.

 

The shopkeeper's eyes immediately went wide. "No! Don't!" he yelled. Harry presumed that it was because the serpent was venomous. However, the older man's cries were cut off as the albino runespoor immediately began to curl her way around Harry's arm. Once she was completely wrapped around his forearm, Harry pulled his arm out of the case and smirked at the flabbergasted shopkeeper.

 

"Thanks, but I'm good."

 

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The next morning Harry sat on his bed with his new familiar wrapped around his arm. Or was it familiars...? Harry wasn't quite sure whether he should refer to her...them...a single snake, or three. After all, they did have three different heads, and, in a way, were like three separate beings combined.

 

"We're going to be leaving today," he hissed at them. "I'm going to be attending Silvermoor Academyof Magic."

 

"Ah, so you're a magical being then," Layla stated. Harry blinked in surprise at her assessment; this runespoor seemed to be more knowledgeable than he'd expected. Still, in the end that was a good thing.

 

"I don't think that there's ever been a speaker who was also a magical being," Kiya murmured. "They've always been wizards before."

 

Using the hand that the serpent wasn't wrapped around, Harry scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Well, umm..." Isis on the other hand just rolled her eyes and grumbled under her breath. Sighing—though slightly amused at the three—he continued, "We'll be going on a plane today to get to Greenland; well, technically two flights. Anyway, because of this you're going to have to stay in my trunk for most of today. Fortunately however, my trunk as a large room-like compartment in it."

 

"Well, we don't exactly have much of a choice if we want to get there, do we?" Isis grumbled.

 

Kiya fortunately had a much...brighter...outlook on the situation. "I've been wanting to have a nice long dream for a while now," she said wistfully with a sigh.

 

Harry chuckled. "Good then," he replied. "It's a mini library, so I guess you'll be able explore a bit."

 

A couple of minutes later, Layla, Kiya, and Isis were down in the library, slithering around and Harry was taking a deep breath as he stood near his bedroom door. Glancing down at a few papers that were held tightly in his hand, Harry groaned slightly. He really didn't want to have to deal with the Dursleys right now, but he was going to have to in order to leave without leaving any chains holding him back.

 

And so, with a sigh, Harry opened his bedroom door and headed downstairs. Once in the living room, Harry saw that, to his luck, all three of his relatives were still at home. His uncle was finishing up packing his briefcase, Dudley was glued to the television, and his aunt was cleaning up dishes in the kitchen.

 

As she passed by the doorway that connected the living room and the kitchen, Petunia paused, seeing Harry standing at the bottom of the stairs. She looked surprised, as she well should since Harry hadn't been downstairs since returning from Hogwarts. Her mouth opened and closed for a moment as she searched for something to say. To Harry it was amusing, but he quickly sobered as he remember what his task was going to be.

 

Clearing his throat loudly, Harry got the attention of his uncle as well. Dudley was still watching the TV, completely oblivious to those around him, but Harry didn't particularly care. As soon as he saw that it was Harry who had gotten his attention, Vernon's gaze turned into a glare before he leveled out his expression.

 

Harry took a step forward so that he was closer to his aunt and uncle. "I need to speak to you," he murmured. "In private."

 

Vernon and Petunia shared a nervous glance before Vernon nodded firmly. "Alright," he said, "But no funny business."

 

Harry nodded in reply and led his aunt and uncle into the kitchen. Once they were all sitting down at the dining table, he spoke up once more.

 

"As you know," he started, "I turned sixteen two weeks ago. And, at the age of sixteen, teens are allowed to get a job, rent a house, etc without consent."

 

Vernon stared hard at Harry. "Yeah," he said gruffly, "What about it?"

 

Harry took another deep breath. "Well, as I'm sure that you also know, 16-year-olds cannot leave school without permission." At this point, Harry placed the papers that he'd brought down on the table before him and pushed them towards his aunt and uncle. "These are papers for my emancipation. If you sign them, I will leave this home. Permanently. You'll never have to see me again. You can just tell the neighbors that I was sent off somewhere else or something."

 

Vernon and Petunia exchanged another glance; this time a hopeful one. Despite this, however, Petunia spoke up. "But I thought that that Dumbledouse fellow said that you had to stay here...?"

 

Harry snorted. "I apologize; I hadn't realized that you two took orders from him, a wizard."

 

Harry's uncle's face immediately started to turn purple. "Certainly not!" he spluttered. "We are regular, normal folk and we rule ourselves!" He then pulled the papers closer to him and began to look them over. "You say you'll never come back, boy?" he asked, glancing up.

 

Harry nodded, carefully hiding his smirk; it was so easy to manipulate his relatives so long as you knew how to push their buttons. "Yes. I'll never shadow your doorstep again."

 

"Well..." Vernon hesitated. He looked as though he desperately wanted to sign, but was wary about any tricks.

 

"Vernon!" Petunia whispered harshly. "But what about what they will say?!"

 

Harry forcefully stopped himself from rolling his eyes. "They will leave you alone," he interrupted. "You had nothing to do with my choice in leaving, and you can tell them that. Besides, there's nothing that they can do; since I'm sixteen I can legally leave; I just need your permission to leave school, and this is the best way to do that and get me out of your hair at the same time.

 

Vernon and Petunia continued to stare suspiciously at Harry for a moment longer before Vernon finally hesitantly pulled out a pen. He read the papers through once more—constantly glancing up at Harry as he did so—before he paused at the end and then signed at the bottom. Harry stopped himself from releasing as sigh as he took the papers back from Vernon with a nod. Thank Merlin.

 

"Good day, Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon," Harry said politely as he stood up from the table. "I will be leaving right away."

 

Without another word, Harry turned on his heel and headed upstairs. Once he had closed his bedroom door behind him, Harry let out the smirk that had been threatening to consume his face. Finally. Finally he was free!

 

Harry glanced down at the papers in his hand; now all he had to do was send them back to Grimsheild, whom he had gotten them from. He would take care of the rest. And so, after a moment's worth of concentration on his part, the papers disappeared from his hands. Harry knew that they were now safe in Grimsheild's office.

 

Before speaking to the Dursley's Harry had packed up all of his things in his trunk—his runespoor had been the last. Despite this though, he took one last look around to room to make sure that he hadn't left anything. When he was absolutely positive that he hadn't left anything behind, Harry turned back to face his trunk and took a deep breath. Well, this was it; he was really leaving. He was really heading on his way toward Greenland.

 

Harry sighed and glanced out of his window and into the morning. Seeing his reflection in the glass however, reminded Harry that he had glamour on to make himself look exactly as he had at the beginning of the summer. He quickly removed it, and the young man staring back at him completely changed: He now had longer hair which was tied back at the nape of his neck, no glasses and a much more filled out face. He was also a few inches taller; he had shot up a bit over the past few weeks, having finally had a growth spurt.

 

Harry's clothes had also changed from Dudley's hand-me-downs to what he was actually wearing: a pair of nice blue jeans and a black dress shirt. Oh, and of course his pair of Hebridean Black-hide boots.

 

Suddenly though, Harry noticed his scar peeking out from behind his bangs. Now that wouldn't do at all. And so, just a second later, Harry had a strong but unnoticeable glamour covering the lightning bolt scar.

 

Turning away from his reflection, Harry approached his trunk and, laying a hand on it, used his magic to shrink it. He then tucked it into his pocket and, at the same time, checked to make sure that the airplane tickets and his new mokeskin moneybag was safely in his pocket too. With one last look around his bedroom, Harry Potter silently Disapparated out—

 

—And Blake Gray Apparated into Heathrow Airport.

 

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A/N: Eh, I was pretty hesitant about giving Harry a snake as a pet since they're used so much, but in the end it was the only kind of pet that I could actually see Harry having. I made it a runespoor because from the way they're described in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them they're probably the most intelligent of snakes. That and they're damn interesting.

 

More info on this story can be found at www(DOT)groups(DOT)yahoo(DOT)com/group/ShadowRebirthFanfiction.

 

--S.R.