Chapter 10 The Move

Harry was having the time of his life. Justin's house, now his too, was huge. It had three separate wings, one for the boys, one for the parents, and then the common area. They didn't have live-in servants, but there were many people wandering around and working there, so Harry figured they just came on the weekdays. Justin had said that when he was younger, he had a nanny, but she was let go when he got his Hogwarts letter. She would have retired anyway if he had gone to Eton.

The Finch-Fletchley family was very rich and there were acres upon acres of land surrounding the house. If the boys went to the far end of the property around the house, they could fly. It was great. One of the groundskeepers, that Justin's dad hired a few weeks ago, was a wizard, and he kept his eye on them. Giving them pointers, and such. The two boys spent loads of time just tossing a ball around from their brooms.

When they weren't doing that, they were going over non-magical schoolwork, just to get to where they would have been, had they not attended Hogwarts. It was hard going, and Justin's dad, Patrick, had hired tutors. The tutor, Leeann Pinkens, said it was a good thing they only missed one year.

A week into summer Mr. Finch-Fletchley had taken Harry to Gringotts. It was an eye-opening experience. Harry was just as rich, if not richer than his new family. That and he was related to some powerful wizards on both sides of his family. Nothing major, like the Founders of Hogwarts (Though he was very distantly related to Godric Gryffindor), or Merlin, or any of that. However, there was a lot to be said about the Perevells, and a few others.

That and a lot of people had bequeathed him money in their wills. Something about him being the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry didn't know how he felt about that. He hoped that he hadn't shafted the true heirs of the vaults, and had the goblins look into it.

He found out that there was a mail misdirect ward on him and his old house. It was redirected to Gringotts. They would sort it and hand to Mr. Finch-Fletchley, who would go over it with Harry. It was explained to him that it was to keep him safe, and that he should no longer concern himself about it, the goblins and Justin's dad would take care of it.

The vaults were emptied of everything, with a promise that he would utilize the new bank. Which would be open in a few weeks. They were still digging tunnels and living quarters. Right now, all his money, books and heirlooms were hidden in a trunk that was massive on the inside. It was in a bank vault, under Mr. Finch-Fletchley's name.

The next morning, after Gringotts, Patrick took Harry to the new hospital, St. Bridget's.

"Why do I have to come here?" Harry asked, looking around and the sparkling building, that seemed to be made of steel and reflective glass.

"I know that your relatives didn't treat you right. And that you never got examined at Hogwarts. So, we're here to make sure everything is okay. You need all your immunizations, both magical and non. Don't worry, Harry, they know what they're doing," Mr. Finch-Fletchley said, guiding the worried boy up to the welcome counter.

They checked in and waited about five minutes before they were called in.

Healer Sprite had Harry climb on to the exam table. First, she waved her wand, then looked over the ghostly image that showed up next to the now fascinated boy. There were different colors showing all over his ghostly form.

"Well, Harry, it appears that you have only a few minor issues. Except, I hate to say, your scar," she said with furrow of her forehead as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. "Has your scar ever given you pain?" she asked, making notes in his chart.

"Ummm, yeah, a few times. Mostly when I was in DADA class, last year."

"Did you ever go to the Hospital Wing to get it checked out?" she inquired, making more notes.

"No, I'm not a baby. I can handle a bit of pain. Besides, it always went away quick enough," he denied with a shrug.

"Okay, Harry, I have to get someone to confer with. Wait here a moment, okay?" she said distractedly as she hurried out of the room.

"What do you think it is?" Harry asked Patrick, staring at the mass of dark grey coloring on the image's forehead.

"I wouldn't even begin to know how to answer that," the man said, he too gazing that the image.

"Oh, right, sorry," the boy mumbled, rubbing his scar.

Five minutes later a man came in with Healer Sprite. He looked at the image and narrowed his eyes at what he was seeing. "Shite," he said under his breath, and ran out of the room.

That didn't help Harry's nerves, nor Patrick's.

Healer Sprite busied herself with needles and potions, calmly telling the wary boy what they were and why he needed them. They went through the exam, and then waited until the other man, who Sprite told them was named Healer Grant.

When Healer Grant reappeared, he had a goblin, and two other men with him. "Harry, I'm going to put you to sleep for a moment. When you wake up, your scar will be healed," the healer told the now scared boy. He looked to Mr. Finch-Fletchley, who nodded back, but mouthed, 'tell me later'. Grant nodded back, then looked at Harry.

"Okay," he stuttered out, laying on the table, trying to be brave.

"I'll be right here, Harry," Patrick said, holding his hand.

Harry smiled and then was stunned. He woke up about twenty minutes later and felt loads better. He never knew he had a low-grade headache all the time, until he realized he his head was clearer and didn't have that mild ache.

He sat up, stretched a bit, and asked, "What was it? I feel much better."

"I talked it over with your guardian here, and we decided the best course of action was to say that it was something Voldemort did when he tried to kill you. It's gone now, and you won't get a headache in that area again. Well, not unless you bump your head," Grant said, with a chuckle.

"Okay," Harry drawled, not sure if he wanted to know more.

"It's fine, Harry," Patrick said, lifting him off the table. "Let's go pick up Justin and get some ice cream." He then turned to the Healers. "We're good to go?"

"Yes. Make sure you stop by the front desk and schedule an appointment for Christmas break. I want to make sure that he's growing normally," Healer Sprite said, handing a piece of paper to Patrick.

The man nodded and the two left. One feeling better than he ever had. The other, worried about what they found, and how that would affect Harry in the future. Soon they met up with Justin and had their ice cream, both putting the day to the back of their minds.

One morning late July, Harry woke up from a nightmare. He went to breakfast, and asked Justin's dad, "Mr. Finch-Fletchley, what will happen when the purebloods find out we've left. I mean, are they going to attack?" He was genuinely concerned about this. He knew from what Hermione made him study that they had attacked non-magicals in the past.

"Harry, I've told you a hundred times to call me Patrick," the man said with a sigh. Then answered the question. "We've thought about that, and while I feel you're too young to know, I will relieve your worries," he said, putting his fork on his plate. "The 'muggleborn' have created a book that will tell them were magicals live. Those of us in the know, are protected. We have wards, and… portkeys, I think their called. The ones not in the know are being approached with the information they need to have. They will also be offered wards and portkeys."

"That's good," Harry said with a relieved sigh.

"What's a portkey?" Justin asked, taking a sip of his orange juice.

"Let me see if I can explain it," his dad answered, wrinkling his brow. "It's a magical traveling device, that takes you from one place to another. I think, it's via a wormhole, but it got quite confusing when they explained it." Not that he was stupid by any means, it was all explained using magic terms. They tried to science it up for him, but it just didn't interpret right.

"Oh, so if you see the bad people you can get away?" Harry asked excitedly. That relieved much of his worry.

"Yes," was the brief answer. "But," he expounded, "we have a panic room here. So, first sign of trouble, you go there. Then if we have too, we'll port out."

"Yes, sir," the two boys said, then continued eating.

"Hey, Dad, what about Neville and the Weasleys?" Justin inquired, glancing at Harry.

Harry frowned; he was worried that he had not heard from those guys. He thought for sure that Neville and the twins would write him. He heard from all his friends here in this world, via post and phone, but none from the wizarding. It had only been a few weeks, and they might be busy, but he was sure that something else was going on. Even when he sent Hedwig, she came back with no letters.

"As it stands right now, they will be invited to join the new school. Everyone will be sent a brochure to explain about it. There will be a screening test, so many might stay at Hogwarts, because they lack the non-magical education to get in to Dags," Patrick explained. Dags being the nickname the kids came up with, complaining that the real name was just too long to say.

"If they pass the test, how much is it going to cost?" Harry wondered. He knew the Weasleys were short on money.

"Nothing," Patrick answered, "It's a government funded school. The taxes from the town will pay for it. The families will be responsible for books and equipment, but they can all be had for a good price. We will also give out names of tutors, but we're sure that a great deal of the upper years will stay at Hogwarts," he finished, wiping the corner of his lip with his napkin.

"Is there a name for the town?" Harry asked, perking up a bit.

"There's a lottery being held. People can submit a name, and the mayor will pick one. Sorry, boys, adults only," he explained with a grin.

"Oh, well that sucks," Justin said, slouching in his chair.

"Don't slouch," said his mother, Patrice, as she walked in.

"Yes, Mum," the boy grumbled and sat straighter. Harry giggled. Justin's mum was always on them about good manners. His dad didn't care as much.

"Hello, dear," Patrick said, leaning his head to the side a bit, so she could kiss his cheek. Which, of course, was returned in kind. "You're running late this morning," he said.

"Business call. Those people can't do anything without my input," she grossed, sitting next to her husband and serving up some breakfast. Just a few scrambled eggs and toast, coffee as well. She was in a hurry.

Patrick sighed; he knew the feeling well. "I have to get going," he said, folding his napkin, and standing. "You boys behave for Leeann. She's going to be here in a half an hour for your studies. If I hear one word about you skiving off, I will take your brooms away," he threatened cheerfully. He never liked the thought of brooms anyway. It took ten years off his life watching Harry fly. Still, he spoiled the boys, especially Harry. Not a lot, but enough that the child was blossoming.

"Yes, sir," they both said, also getting up from the table, and scrambling out of the room to get ready for the tutoring session.

"They're good boys, dear. Try not to be too hard on them," Patrice said between bites.

"I know," he said with a smile. "But they are boys," he finished, giving her another kiss on the cheek then leaving for work.

"Men," she said with a small smirk. Then quickly finished her breakfast and left.

A week went by and still no word from his wizarding friends. It was Harry's birthday, and the celebration was great. All his 'muggleborn' friends were there. He got loads of presents, and the cake was the biggest he had ever seen. Everyone went home, happy, stomachs full, and buzzing from sugar overload.

Harry entered his room, his arms full of gifts. He stopped in his doorway, and just stared at the small raggedy creature that was staring at him with huge luminous eyes. Harry swallowed his scream, and as calmly as he could walked to his bed to put down his burden.

"Hello," he said, turning to the creature. "What are you doing in my room?" he asked, kneeling so he was eye to eye with the being.

"Harry Potter says hello to Dobby. Like Dobby is a friend. Long has Dobby wanted to meet Harry Potter," the little being wailed, causing noise to come from the halls as Justin started running to Harry's room to investigate.

"It's okay… Dobby. Please, don't cry. What are you anyway, if you don't mind me asking?" Harry said, putting his hand on Dobby's tiny shoulder.

Dobby startled at the touch and then wailed again about Harry's kindness.

"What the hell?" Justin said, skidding to a halt just inside the door. "Who's this?"

"This is Dobby. I'm not sure what he is, but he's a bit emotional," Harry said, keeping his hand on Dobby's shoulder.

"Dobby is a house elf, good sirs," the house elf stated. "Dobby is here to warn Harry Potter, that he must not return to Hogwarts," the tiny being said, ducking away from Harry and standing between the two boys.

"Ummm, okay. I wasn't planning on it anyway," Harry said, very confused.

"I… wha… Dobby is confused. He was thinking that Harry Potter would fight Dobby," the poor elf stated, pulling his ears and looking between the two boys.

"Don't worry, Dobby, I won't go back to Hogwarts. I have somewhere else to go," the messy-headed boy said, hoping to reassure the elf.

"Dobby is greatly ashamed," Dobby said, and started to cry and wail about what a terrible elf he was.

"Why?" Harry asked gently, cutting glances to the equally dumbfounded Justin.

"Dobby has been taking Harry Potter's letters all summer. Dobby was hoping that if Harry Potter thought he had no friends, then Harry Potter would not return to Hogwarts. Now, Dobby is mortified that he needn't have done such a thing," the elf said, and started slamming his head to the ground. "Bad Dobby," he kept saying over and over.

"Dobby, Dobby, stop," Harry tried to get ahold on the elf. When that failed, he loudly asked, hoping to distract the elf, "Dobby, can I have my letters?" He wasn't sure how to take this. On one hand, the elf was trying to help. On the other hand, the elf stole from him.

Dobby stopped banging his head, hiccupped and wiped his eyes. He reached his tiny thin hand into his disgusting pillowcase and handed the bundle of letter and gifts to Harry. "Dobby is being very sorry, Harry Potter." And with that he popped away.

"I'm not sure if I should be scared, or very worried over that elf. He looks like he is been treated badly. Do you know anything about house elves?" Harry asked Justin as he sorted his letters.

"No, we can ask Dad in the morning," Justin said, sitting on a chair by the bed.

"I'll call Hermione in the morning as well. She's done tons of research, she might know," Harry said. "I'm knackered, the party took a lot out of me. I'll read and reply to these tomorrow."

With a great yawn, the other boy agreed and left the room.

The next day there were phone calls, and meetings. Even if Harry wasn't returning to Hogwarts, others would be. If the elf came to warn Harry that meant there was danger coming to the old school. So, the adults told the Minister of Magic that they had received the threat. The man huffed, and puffed, but in the end said he'd tell Dumbledore.

Hermione didn't know what house elves were but promised to look it up.

It was getting to the middle of August, and letters were being sent to Hogwarts for the withdrawal of many of its students. The test had been given the week before, and a great many of the younger years passed, even Neville.

Ron and his sister, Ginny, also passed, barely, since they were homeschooled by their mum. They would have to have some remedial classes, in things like history and math, but it wasn't too bad. The twins, however, didn't make the cut. They said, they'd study this year, and hopefully they could join Dags the next year. Percy didn't even bother. He was too close to his goal to mess it up with a newfangled school.

When the wizards' ministry heard about the mass exodus, the Minister and his toad stormed Downing Street. Harry heard from Patrick that it was quite a show. He had been there with many other parents and 'muggleborn'. They had informed the minister that the kids were still within contract, because the new school was accredited by the ICW. The two left in a huff, promising that there would be retribution.

That night the wards flared around the Finch-Fletchley home. Everyone woke up to the non-magical alarm that went off just after the wards. Patrick had Patrice take the kids to the panic room, while he called the new town's police. He had his gun, from his time in the Queen's Army, handy and waited.

About twenty minutes later some men in dark cloaks and masks finally got through the wards. Patrick warned them not to come any closer or he would shoot. They lifted their wands and he fired, taking out the one in the middle, then ducking the spells coming his way. The man he shot fell to the ground screaming in pain, making his comrades look at him bewildered. Patrick fired again, while they weren't paying attention, and took down two more.

It was at this time the magical police showed up and started firing guns and spells at the rest. That's when those that weren't hurt disappeared. The police rounded up the injured, cuffing them and portkeying them to a holding cell. They'd get medical treatment there.

Patrick sighed in relief, putting his gun on the ground when the cops told him too.

It was a very scary time for the boys and Patrice. They couldn't hear anything in the panic room, but there was a camera that showed them all what was going on. Justin and Harry cheered when Patrick shot the bad guy. Patrice just fretted. When it was all over the family reunited, the wards were reset, and the alarm system company was called. They all went to bed in the parent's room, not wanting to be alone.

They learned the next day that this scene played out all over the UK. That's why it took so long for the police to show. Harry, worried for his friends, started calling everyone. No one had been hurt, many had ported away to Dags when the wards first warned them that someone was breaking in.

That was a relief, but what about next time?