Chapter One: Returning
"Good morning Master Harold," the butler said as a plate of food was placed down in front of the master.
"Morning Alfred," said Harold. He sat down, looking at the stock portfolio that had been placed before him. Several of his companies had dropped, except one, a company he co-founded to say the least.
It was joke shop founded by two redheads that had a passion for invention. They were only a few years older than him, though had helped him develop some of his own creations. Both were brilliant, in his opinion, beyond their time with their jokes, and funded their store, with only one stipulation: that he but their silent-silent partner. They would not contact him; he would contact them, only when it was absolutely necessary. They, being the shrewd businessmen they were, agreed immediately.
"What time shall we be leaving?" asked Harold. He put away the papers and began to read newspaper and tabloids. All loved to talk about the playboy billionaire, whether he was at a function or dinner or whatever, they talked about that or his reclusive lifestyle.
"Ten am, sir," Alfred said as he put a cup of coffee next to the plate of food. Absentmindedly, Harold began to eat from the plate, reading through the paper. Unlike most "playboy billionaires," he was looking at the deaths that happened the night before.
"They just keep adding up."
"That is why we are going back, is it not, Master Harold?" Alfred asked as he took the plate away from Harold. He took a drink of coffee before standing up as Alfred took the cup.
"You're right, but it does not make it any easier," Harold said, folding his napkin as edict dictated. If there was one thing that had made life easier for Harold now as a social elite, it was being taught edict by the Alfred, his guardian and closet friend. He had long ago taken the place of his birth father, who was stole from him at a young age, but now Alfred was indispensable as not only a guardian and caretaker, but as a friend as well.
"You're clothes are laid out for you," Alfred said as Harold walked away.
"Alfred, what would I do without you," Harold asked as walked up the stairs to shower for the morning, and change into his business suit. His mind began to go over the last few years once more, like he had done everyday. Of the times when he knew his life would change depending on the direct he would take….
I0I
Seven years ago
"Are you sure about this Master Harold," Alfred said as he held the hand of small child. Harold nodded, before watching the train leave without him. He had made a promise to his parents, and to himself. That promise could not be fulfilled nor completed without the training he needed. That would come elsewhere. As much as he wanted to go to Hogwarts, Alfred could teach him what he needed to know, and then the rest would come from tutors.
As grand as magic sounded to learn, it did nothing for him, it could only hinder him. He could not learn it now, not for a while. There were more important things to learn, like the art of business, and the conquering of ones mental perceptions and skills. The States held the answers for him there, and that was where was going.
Any majestic train ride would have to wait for another day, another year. He caught the head of a bushy brunette as she stuck it out the window. Perhaps next year…..
I0I
Six Years Ago
"Master Harold, we must be going," Alfred said, drawing him out of his dreams. He was world's youngest business owner, and would in his second year at Hogwarts. Would if he went.
He wanted nothing more than to give it all up and be a child, but the world was too much. He had long ago, learned to hide his emotions. He longed for the family that would never be his; watching that same young brunette from the year before say goodbye hurt even more this year as she hugged her parents.
Sighing, Harold gave into the inevitable, and turned back to Alfred, knowing full well that the old man saw his glances toward that loving family.
"Come my boy," he said, placing a hand on Harold's shoulder, leading him back to the car. Harold felt his emotions return as he entered the back. Closing the door, Alfred moved around to the front, and closed the window that separated them, allowing him to grieve once more in peace, as he had done every Halloween….
I0I
Five Years Ago
They stood waiting for their train to take them into London as a familiar face passed by them, at a hurried pace. What is meant by "pass by" is crashing into. Harold found himself on the ground in a few moments.
"I'm sorry about that," Harold said, standing up immediately. He held his hand out for girl, who looked shocked at him. She accepted it, and before he could help her pick up her belongings, mainly a few stray books, she began to ramble.
"You're sorry, I'm the one that should be sorry, I mean I was the one that ran into you without looking. Oh my God, are you hurt, please, don't be hurt? I didn't mean to hurt you, I just was running late and I didn't want to miss my train and-" Harold put a innocent finger to her mouth, stopping her from speaking. Her rambling gave him time to really look at her face.
She had not reached puberty yet, though her face could still be considered childishly cute. Her bush brown hair did a good job of hiding a smile that Harold thought any would be happy to receive. Her front teeth were slightly larger than the rest, but she had corrective braces on to fix that. But that wasn't the strange part about her. It was this aura he got from her. He had not met many other witches or wizards, Alfred being the only other one, but he believe he was safe to assume she was a witch, especially with the strange book titles.
"It's alright," he said, with maturity beyond his age. "Let me help you pick these up." He bent down and gathered the books up before she could utter another word. He quickly examined them to prove his hypothesis, which it did. Placing them carefully back onto the trunk, he removed his belt and wrapped the books up, securing them onto the trunk.
"That should hold them," he said. The belt was for show mainly. He was a man of business, and business was ninety percent image. "Are you sure you're alright? I didn't break anything did I?" She shook her head.
"My name is Hermione," she held out her hand. Smiling, Harold bent over, and picked up her hand, kissing her knuckles lightly.
"The pleasure is all mine, Hermione," Harold said. "A Winter's Tale, if my literature is correct?" Her blush was his answer. "My name is Harold, but my friends call me Harry." Which was a lie, he didn't have any friends, anyone beside Alfred.
"Nice to meet you Harry," she said, her cheeks filled with blush. Checking his watch, he noticed he had enough time, quarter until eleven. More than enough time.
"Do you mind if I walk you to your train, in case anything else falls?" He said, lamely. He felt himself blushing. He really did not want to leave his first friend, and knew that if he did, it would probably be another year before he saw her again.
"Sure," she said, taking a hold of her cart.
"That's a nice cat you have there," Harold said, pointing to the cat on the edge of the trunk.
"Thank you, I got it for a present this past summer, it's an early birthday present," she said with a large smile. "His name is Crookshanks."
An interesting name for cat owned by an interesting girl, Harold thought to himself.
"What school do you go to?" He asked. "A private school, Hogwarts I assume." He kept walking for a few feet, only to notice she stopped. Looking back at her, he smiled causing her to blush once more.
"How did you know?" She said, obviously trying not to blush.
"Those book titles told me it wasn't a normal school, especially with so many of them," Harold said, walking back to her. He took the cart from her and began to push it towards the platform he had seen dozens of children and families pass through. "Another is your cat. I've researched the schools around the country, in hopes to find one that would suit my needs. Of all of them, Hogwarts is the only one that allows pets, cats among the allowed."
"So why did you not go there?" Another question. Harold could not help but smile.
"Because I needed a more rounded education, and Hogwarts does not offer that. Specifically, I need to understand economics, normal and wizardry, as well as a bit of the theater to round me out. Physical education is also important as the body should never be allowed to fall into decay before its time." He spoke as he had repeated it a hundred times, but no matter how many times he said it, people were always impressed.
"How old are you?" she asked him, slightly in awe.
"Thirteen this past July, though its been too long to remember since I've been a child." Harold's face was downcast for a moment before pausing. Hermione paused with him. "Here's your stop." He said with a smile. "It was nice meeting you Miss. I hope to see you again." Hermione paused for a moment before doing something he had never received.
He felt her hug his tightly around his neck as he awkwardly put his arms around her waist, returning the hug unsurely. "I wish more boys were more like you." She said as she pulled back. "I wish you were coming. That way I'd at least have one friend." Harold smiled before pulling out a small pocket watch.
"This was my father's," he said, running his hand over the cover. "I, I want you to have it. You're my first real friend and I-" He was cut off by another hug.
"Thank you," said Hermione. She took it reverently and placed into her pocket. "I don't much, but I think you might like this." She took one of the books off the stack, the only one that was normal. "It's my favorite, and I've read it about a hundred times. I think you might like it if you haven't read it yet." Harold took the book, and smiled for a moment before running his hand over the cover.
"Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy," he said softly. "No I haven't read it. Though I've probably meant to at one time or another. Just haven't found the time. Life passes us by before we know it." He looked up her at her and smiled once more. "Thank you. I doubt want you to be late, so you best be going." She took a look at the watch she now held before giving off a shriek and running through the barrier. "Goodbye, my friend." He said before heading off to catch his own train.
"Master Harold, I was so worried," Alfred said as he approached. "You mustn't run off like that. Who knows what could happen to you?"
"I do," he said as he stepped beside his guardian.
"What happen to your belt, Master Harold, and where did you get that book?" Alfred said, a small twinkle in his eyes. Harold ran a finger over the book once more.
"A friend of mine," he said as their train approached. He was off to London and all silly thoughts of friendship were put aside for another day.
I0I
Harry did not return for another five years, and this would be the first time he had return to the British wizardry world. His trip to Japan and study of the martial arts had taken longer than anticipate, only because he was determined to become the best. These trips were done in secret, to protect his playboy image. He did not want the world to know what he was planning, what he knew was becoming necessary. The return to London had been hard enough on him.
His finished his shower and dressed in his suit and tie, ready for the trip to St. Mungo's. The wizardry paper stated only months before that they were in need of support with the pouring in of patients. He figured and his business manager agreed that it would be a good way to fully reintroduce himself to this community of people. He had long lived in the normal world, though his skills with magic far exceeded most of the wizardry world, he believed them cause lack of focus and preparation. He used them only as a last minute necessity, and only then. Alfred, on the other hand, used it to keep Potter Manor, or Godric's Hollow, in such spotless condition. After the ceremony at the hospital, there was to a banquet here, as he wanted as many people to like him as possible.
He had just become the owner of the largest potions company in the Wizarding world. That and he was owner of the largest aerospace company as well as had a think-tank that worked for him, creating new ideas and such. But for the most he owned countless of smaller companies he had no idea what they did, but knew they were doing it legally. That was all that he cared about, that things were done fairly and such at his places of work. However, he had done some of his own work.
While examining the think-tanks inventions, he had come close to combining technology and magic. All it took was the right spells to get the gears to move and such, and he'd find a way to work it all out.
Finished dressing, Harold headed to the parlor, where Alfred was waiting for him. "The car is ready sir." Harold nodded, and grabbed the coat offered to him. Following Alfred out of the door, he stepped into the back seat of the waiting car. Alfred moved around front to the driver's side.
"How long will it take to get there?" Harold asked, relaxing in the back seat. His mind began to go over the layout of the hospital to ensure that he could leave if one of those reporters got too nosy or if he needed to assist in an evacuation. Luck favors the prepared.
"Another ten minutes sir," Alfred said as he concentrated on the driving. Harold nodded and allowed his mind to fall into a routine he had done many times before. The public needs not to suspect the intelligence behind the mask of Harold Potter…
I0I
"So who is this guy?" Ronald Weasley asked his current lust of affection, Hermione Granger. She rolled her eyes, wondering why she even bothered accepting his invitation to this dedication/ball. He had changed over the last few years. Sure he still was a jerk sometimes, but he was nice to her now, after she saved his butt the previous year during the finals.
The Weasley's had offered to take her to the dedication of the new wing at the hospital, but it was with the stipulation, or rather that was how Ron had put it, that he be her date. Figuring that it would be fun, she accepted, only stating that she would be going with him as friends, nothing more. Even then she was not sure if he wanted to be friends with her.
"I don't know, Ron," Hermione repeated. She looked down at the program given to them at the beginning.
This "Harold Potter" was some businessman, young apparently, but reclusive for the last eight years. That was the extent of the knowledge she could find from recent articles. Beyond that, he had bought up a great deal of smaller companies and inventors, and consolidated them into Potter Industries, the largest Muggle and Wizardry chemical/potions company in the UK.
He had invited basically the entire Ministry and some of their family to his estate back in Scotland after the dedication. He had to have a great deal of money, and the only thing Hermione could think of was Malfoy, the slime of Hogwarts. Malfoy was said to be the richest child at Hogwarts, from his mouth. Yet something told Hermione that his father spent more money prostrating himself into the good graces of the Ministry.
"Bet you he's a git like Malfoy," Ginny said. She was the only daughter in the Weasley family, but that did not stop her from voicing her opinion.
"A git? Do you even know this man?" A handsome fellow was standing beside them, drinking from a champagne glass. Hermione and Ginny both stared at him as Ron answered back. The man gave them a disarming smile, causing them both to blush deeply.
"What does it matter? All those people with money are alike," he said. "They just try to buy their friendships, and then go turncoat." The handsome man ran a hand through his black hair, giving them a glimpse of a lightning bolt scar on his forehead.
"Really, hmm, never thought of that, though I don't like to judge a book by its cover," the man said, scratching his chin. Hermione looked beyond the black-rimmed glasses to see a twinkle in his emerald eyes.
"What's there to judge?" Ron asked, shrugging his shoulders. "Its not hard to figure any rich guy is only doing this to get his name in the paper and further himself so he can get a few more ladies to screw." He quickly received a slap on both of his arms from both Hermione and Ginny. "What? Its true." He said.
The man nodded for a moment, smiling to himself before looking over at the speaker who came to the podium. "Would Mister Potter please come to the stage? Everyone, please move forward, and the presentation shall begin shortly."
"That's my queue," the man next to them said. Before Hermione could get his name, the man pushed his way through the crowd.
"Bugger, and I didn't even get his name," Hermione said softly, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Come on," Ron said, not noticing her current state. "We don't want to miss the show do we?" He pulled on her arm, practically dragging her over to the rest of the redheaded clan.
"There you are, come on, we must get so he can see us," Percy Weasley said. He was among the most egocentric members of the family, with Ron coming close second Hermione figured. Shaking her head, Hermione scanned the crowd for any signs of the man they were talking to earlier.
"Thank you ladies and gentlemen for attending tonight," a man said before them. He must have been the press agent of the Ministry. "Without further ado, let us begin."
Everyone by now was crowded stage that had been set up in the enlarged entrance to the hospital. The Minister, a pompous jackass named Cornelius Fudge stood up, saying a few unimportant words about the day. Most of the reporters remained ready, with cameras and Quick-quote quills ready for the man of the hour.
"And now, I'm happy to present, the benefactor of the evening, Mister Harold Potter," the press agent said once more. Hermione felt her jaw drop as the man stood up from his seat, the same twinkle in his eyes.
"I must say, it's great to know I've made such an impression upon all of you," Harold said, his smile widening, `without actually being here." The room filled with slight chuckles at his joke. "I'd like to thank you all for coming. This opening means a great deal to me, to my family." He looked around the room, as if making eye contact with everyone there. As if making them all know they were important to him. "My mother was prominent advocate to human rights and protection of those rights. I have found that these wizarding hospitals and hospices are below par, beneath the average needs of many of the people here." His face turned somber at the moment. "Through the use of magic, many of the population here has become lazy and uninterested in human advancement.
"The money I have donated tonight is not meant for the rich, but for those that can not normally afford the awful rates here," he now spoke with distain. "I am appalled at the attention some of the patients received here and I hope that the treatment of patients shall improve with the addition of this wing." He looked back at the wing behind him, smiling slightly. The room had grown quiet. He turned back to them and stared at them once more.
"I've been told I do not understand the culture here, the way of life," he said smirking. "That you know how to live as a wizard better than me. While that may be true, I do believe that there is much to be learned for leading a normal life. I've discussed it already with the governors, and they have agreed that my admission into Hogwarts shall be accepted." There were a great number of mumbles and discussions going about in the room, and Hermione felt herself being drawn into one.
"Can he do that? He's what twenty, twenty-one?" Ron asked his momentary forgetting the embarrassment he caused himself.
"I don't know," Hermione said, going over the school rules she had memorized. "I didn't think so." Harold stood at the podium, a smile on his face and twinkle in his eyes as if he knew something that everyone else did not. It was those same eyes, or similar ones that had comforted her those lonely nights that third year at Hogwarts.
"Now that I have all of your attention," Harold said with a large smile. Hermione heard many of the girls around the room sigh at the smile. She glared universally around the room, for a reason she could not explain. Turning her attention back to Harold she watched his eyes look at her stare at her for a moment.
"He's looking right at me," Ginny said, giddily. Hermione shook her head, slightly, though no one noticed.
"There is a great deal to learn, from anyone willing to teach," Harold said. "I want to learn from the best, though, if it means giving up some of the privileges of private schooling so be it, though I doubt the food will compare." Chuckles filled the room as Dumbledore, the Headmaster at Hogwarts rose from his seat.
"Mister Potter," he began. "I assure you, the food is the reason the ghost still are hanging around the place." His smile matched Harold's as they shook hands. "May I be the first to welcome you back."
"He's coming to Hogwarts?" Ron said, still in shock.
"Mister Weasley, I believe you have a question," Harold said as he walked off the stage. There was slightly laughter in the room as he walked toward him. "I look forward to being schoolmates with you all this upcoming year, though I doubt I'll be any good." His smile cause both of the girls to blush again as he looked at Ron, holding out his hand. Ron glared at it for a moment before shaking it wildly, or at least trying to.
Harold caught his hand and shook it gracefully before pulling back. "Might fine grip you got there," he said, shaking his hand. There was some more chuckles going around the room as Harold went about, hobnobbing with the other guest.
"Bull," Ron said shaking his hand. "He's the one with a grip like a vice grip." He muttered to himself. Hermione could not help but laugh slightly at Ron, causing him to glare at her. "You're my date, you're supposed to side with me."
"No, dance with you maybe," Hermione said, giving him a combination between a smirk and glare. "Side with you, I doubt we've done that at all during our interim friendship."
"Maybe I shouldn't have invited you at all," Ron said to her, glaring at her. "I'm sure Lavender would have sided with me." Hermione felt tears come to her eyes for a moment before shaking them away, not giving him the satisfaction. However before she could respond, Harold did for her.
"Mister Weasley, while I take jokes against me in good favor, I do not take insults against my guests as such," he said, his arms crossed. "I suggest you learn to bite your tongue before a woman takes it out for you."
"I'm sorry for my son's behavior, Mister Potter," Ron's father began.
"Mister Weasley, I honestly believe this has nothing to do with your parenting skills, yours or you wife," Harold said, his demeanor changing. "You're daughter was very polite to me earlier in a conversation we had, and those twins of yours really have a eye for business." Mrs. Weasley appeared to have wedding bells in her eyes at the mention at her daughter, but Hermione noticed that Harold's eyes did not move to Ginny at the statement, rather to her. That and twinkle that glowed in his eyes at the mentioning of George and Fred's business.
"Well, Ms Granger is it," Harold said, taking out a piece of paper. She nodded, slightly surprised at him mention her. "I read you're piece on Elves rights, in the Daily Prophet, wonderful piece." He put the paper back into his jacket, as if checking something. Hermione tried to hold back her blush but failed. "If you must excuse me, Miss, there are some other matter that need my attending before we leave for my place." With another dazzling smile, he left the Weasley's and Hermione standing in awe.
"A man like that and he's only seventeen?" Mrs. Weasley said aloud, voicing the two similar opinions on the other girls' minds. Ron began to mumble to himself, though now one was paying attention. George and Fred were currently wrapped up in a conversation with their father regarding their successful business.
Snapping herself out of her fantasy about the man who just left their presence, Hermione opened her purse, touching the small pocket watch from her first friend. She hoped that one day, she'd be able to find him again and tell him how much that little watch meant to her.
I0I
As Alfred prepared the house, Harold stood in his bedroom once more, looking back at the portrait, as he had done every night. A smile crossed his face. "One step at a time, mother, one step at a time," he said before leaving the room. After all, he had a party to host.
-->