Harry Potter and the Hilltop Fortress - Chapter - 11 (Patreon)

Harry turned around, the heavy wooden doors of Gringotts still creaking shut behind him, and found himself face-to-face with a man who was immediately striking. He was tall and lean, with shoulder-length blonde hair that seemed to catch the light from the chandeliers hanging high above them in the ornate marble hall. The man's pale face was framed by the kind of elegant features that suggested both nobility and danger. His eyes, a cool gray, locked onto Harry's with an intensity that made Harry feel like he was being studied under a microscope.

For a moment, Harry's mind went blank. He had no idea who this man was, but the way he was looking at him, the way he seemed to see right through him, made Harry instinctively wary. He forced himself to stay calm, even as his heart began to race.

"You are Harry Potter, aren't you?" the man asked again, his voice smooth and cultured, yet carrying a weight that demanded an answer.

Harry blinked, taken aback. His first instinct was to deny it. After all, he had been living in the Muggle world, away from all of this, away from people who knew who he was. For eleven years, he had been just Harry, the boy who lived in a cupboard under the stairs. Now, suddenly, he was being recognized by strangers in a world he was just beginning to understand. Panic bubbled up inside him, but he quickly swallowed it down. He needed to think fast.

"Sorry, sir," Harry said, doing his best to sound casual and nonchalant. "I think you've got the wrong person. My name is Gosling. Harry Gosling."

The man's expression didn't change. He continued to study Harry with those piercing gray eyes, and for a moment, Harry felt as though the man could see right through his lie. The silence stretched out between them, thick with tension. Then, to Harry's dismay, the man's lips curled into a small, knowing smile.

"No," the man said softly, "you are Harry Potter."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. How could this man know? He was certain he had never seen him before, and yet this stranger was absolutely confident in his identity. A cold chill ran down Harry's spine as he considered the possibilities. Could this man be dangerous? Had someone sent him? Was he one of those dark wizards Harry had heard whispered about in Diagon Alley? The ones who had supported Voldemort?

A thought occurred to him, one that made his skin crawl. "Did you just read my mind?" Harry asked, his voice low and wary.

The man's smile widened slightly, though it did nothing to soften the sharpness in his gaze. "Of course not," he replied smoothly. "Though there are indeed wizards who possess that particular skill, I am not one of them."

Harry frowned, trying to make sense of this. The man had seemed so certain, so confident in his statement. If he wasn't reading Harry's mind, then how could he be so sure? The idea that someone could actually read his thoughts, know his deepest secrets without him ever realizing it, was terrifying.

The man's expression softened slightly as if he could sense Harry's unease. "You seem surprised," he observed, his tone now more curious than probing. "Surely you've heard of Legilimency?"

Harry's eyes widened. "Legilimency?" he repeated, testing the unfamiliar word on his tongue.

The man nodded. "Yes. It is the art of reading minds, of seeing into the thoughts and memories of others. A rare skill, to be sure, but not entirely unknown in the wizarding world."

Harry felt his pulse quicken. The idea that there were wizards out there who could just... look inside his mind, read his thoughts as easily as reading a book, was both fascinating and terrifying. "So there really are people who can do that?" he asked, his voice a mixture of curiosity and fear.

The man inclined his head. "Yes. Though such skills are often kept secret, as you might imagine. The ability to peer into another's mind is not something most wizards are eager to admit to."

Harry felt a shiver run down his spine. "And what if... what if I don't want anyone to be able to do that? What if I want to protect my mind?"

The man's smile returned, this time with a hint of approval. "Ah, now that is a very good question," he said. "And the answer lies in the counterpart to Legilimency—Occlumency. It is the art of shielding one's mind from intrusion, of guarding your thoughts against those who might seek to uncover them."

Harry's interest was piqued. This was something he definitely wanted to know more about. "Occlumency..." he repeated, as if committing the word to memory. "How do you learn it?"

The man's expression became more serious. "That is where things become complicated. You see, the Ministry of Magic has placed strict restrictions on the teaching and practice of mind arts. Books on Legilimency and Occlumency are banned from public circulation. They are considered dangerous knowledge, and as such, are not taught in schools or found in legal bookstores."

Harry's heart sank a little. He had hoped that perhaps he could just go to a shop in Diagon Alley, buy a book on Occlumency, and teach himself how to protect his mind. But if it was banned, that meant it wouldn't be that simple. "So... what do people do if they want to learn it?" he asked.

The man's smile returned, though this time it was tinged with a hint of mischief. "Well, there are always those who find ways around the Ministry's restrictions. Knowledge of the mind arts still exists, passed down through families, taught in secret by those who possess the skill. But it is not something you will find easily."

Harry frowned, considering this. If it was illegal to learn Occlumency, did that mean only dark wizards knew how to protect their minds? And what if he wanted to learn it? Would he have to break the law? The idea made him uneasy, but at the same time, the thought of leaving his mind unprotected, vulnerable to anyone who might want to invade it, was equally unsettling.

As if sensing Harry's inner conflict, the man spoke again. "I happen to possess a book on both Legilimency and Occlumency," he said casually. "If you are truly interested, I could... acquire it for you."

Harry's eyes snapped to the man's face. The offer was tempting, but he couldn't help the suspicion that crept into his mind. He had only just met this man, and now he was offering to give him something that was illegal? "How do I know you're not a Death Eater trying to attack me?" Harry asked bluntly.

The man's smile faltered for a moment, then returned with a slight chuckle. "A reasonable concern," he acknowledged. "But rest assured, I have no ill intentions. If we were outside of Gringotts, I could swear a magical oath to prove it. Unfortunately, here in Goblin territory, using magic without their permission would be... unwise."

Harry narrowed his eyes, weighing the man's words. He had learned enough about goblins in the short time he had been in Diagon Alley to know that they were fiercely protective of their domain. If this man was willing to swear a magical oath, then maybe he really wasn't a threat. But that still left the question of whether he could be trusted."

What if we go outside the bank?" Harry suggested cautiously. "You could swear the oath, and then I'll know for sure."

The man's smile broadened, clearly pleased with Harry's suggestion. "A sensible plan," he said with a nod. "Very well, Mr. Potter. Let us step outside, and I will swear the oath."

With that, the man turned and began to walk toward the exit of Gringotts, his robes billowing slightly as he moved. Harry hesitated for a moment, still unsure if he was making the right decision, but then steeled himself and followed. They walked through the grand hall of the bank, past rows of goblins busily working at their desks, until they finally stepped out into the bright sunlight of Diagon Alley.

The bustling street was filled with witches and wizards going about their business, but Harry's attention was focused solely on the man in front of him. The man turned to face him, his expression serious but not unfriendly.

"Now," the man said, drawing his wand from within his robes. "I, Xenophilius Lovegood, do solemnly swear on my magic that I mean no harm to Harry Potter and that I will not act against his interests in any way."

A soft, golden glow surrounded the man for a brief moment before fading away. Harry felt a strange sense of relief wash over him. The magical oath was binding—if Xenophilius Lovegood broke it, there would be severe consequences. It wasn't a foolproof guarantee, but it was enough for Harry to feel more at ease.

"Alright," Harry said, his voice more confident now. "I believe you."

"If you don't know how to read minds, how do you know that I am Harry Potter?" Harry asked, his voice tinged with confusion. He had become increasingly trusting of Mr. Lovegood during their brief conversation, but this revelation caught him off guard.

"Well, it was simple," Xenophilius replied with a knowing smile. "I was behind you when you told the goblin your name."

Harry blinked in surprise, feeling a mix of relief and foolishness. Of course, it had been something as simple as that. He mentally kicked himself for not checking his surroundings before revealing his identity. In a world where anonymity could be a lifeline, he realized he needed to be more careful.

"So, the book," Xenophilius continued, interrupting Harry's thoughts. "Do you want me to get it for you? Or better yet, how about you come with me to my house and meet my daughter? She's only one year below you at Hogwarts. She'll be very happy to meet you, and she won't tell anyone about your identity either. And even if she somehow blurted it out, no one would believe her anyway. Everyone thinks she's some kind of loony, you know—like she has some mental illness or something."

Harry frowned at the word "loony." The way Xenophilius had said it so casually, as if it were just a fact of life, made Harry uneasy. It wasn't the first time he had heard someone use that word, but it still struck a chord with him. He knew what it was like to be labeled, to be called names and bullied. At school, the Dursleys had often referred to him as a Loony, and the other kids had followed suit, whispering behind his back and sometimes even to his face. The thought of someone else being treated that way, especially someone as kind as Xenophilius seemed to be, made Harry feel a pang of empathy.

"Loony?" Harry repeated, his voice softer now. He glanced at Xenophilius, who nodded solemnly.

"My Luna is a very good girl, very brilliant," Xenophilius said, his eyes shining with fatherly pride. "But people don't always understand her. They think she's strange because she sees the world differently. But she's not strange, Harry. She's special."

Harry could see the deep affection Xenophilius had for his daughter, and it warmed his heart. The idea of meeting someone who was also misunderstood, someone who might understand what it was like to be different, appealed to him. He had never had many friends, and the ones he did have often didn't see him for who he truly was. Maybe Luna would be different.

"Well," Harry began, hesitating slightly, "we can go there, but before that, I have something else to do in this place. More things to buy and more places to explore."

Xenophilius nodded thoughtfully. "Of course, of course. It's a big place, Diagon Alley, and there's so much to see. How about I escort you to all your places and show you around? I know this area quite well, and I'd be happy to help."

Harry liked the idea. Having someone familiar with the area could be useful, and Xenophilius seemed trustworthy enough. Besides, it would be nice to have some company for a change."

Alright," Harry agreed, a small smile forming on his lips. "Let's explore."

They set off together, weaving through the crowded streets. Harry marveled at the variety of shops and stalls, each one offering something unique and magical. He could see families with excited children, students shopping for school supplies, and witches and wizards of all ages going about their business. The air was filled with the scent of freshly baked goods from a nearby bakery and the occasional burst of magical energy as spells were cast.

As they walked, Harry's attention was drawn to a shop with a sign that read The Enchanter's Emporium. Curious, he turned to Xenophilius.

"What's this place?" Harry asked, pointing to the shop.

"Oh, that's an enchantment shop," Xenophilius explained, his tone light and conversational. "They specialize in enchanting objects with various magical properties. You can bring in almost anything, and they'll make it unbreakable, impervious to the elements, or even give it special abilities.

"Harry's eyes lit up with interest. "Can they make my glasses unbreakable?"

Xenophilius chuckled. "Of course they can, Harry. Wizards can do wonders with enchantments. But you might want to consider more than just unbreakable glasses."

Harry thought about it for a moment, then asked, "Can they repair my eyesight?"

Xenophilius paused, considering the question carefully. "Well, wizards are great healers. They can reattach limbs, heal the most severe wounds, and even cure deadly poisons. But fixing eyesight... for a Potter, that might be more complicated."

"Why?" Harry asked, genuinely curious. "Why is that?"

Xenophilius's expression grew serious. "Because the Potters' eyesight problems aren't just a physical issue. There's an old story, from the 1600s, about a man named Harwin Potter. He was cursed by a dark wizard—a curse that affected his eyes. He wasn't blinded, but his vision became very poor. The curse lingered in his bloodline, and since then, all Potters have had issues with their eyesight. It's a bloodline curse, Harry, and unfortunately, there's no known way to reverse it."

Harry felt a sinking feeling in his chest. A curse? That explained a lot. But still, there was nothing he could do about it, at least not yet. He was determined, though, to make the best of his situation.

"Well, I guess I'll have to make do with the glasses," Harry said with a shrug, trying to stay positive. "But if they can make them unbreakable and add some other useful enchantments, that would be great."

"Absolutely," Xenophilius agreed. "Let's go inside and see what they can do."

They entered the shop, and Harry was immediately struck by the warm, inviting atmosphere. The walls were lined with shelves filled with enchanted items—everything from self-cleaning robes to quills that never ran out of ink. Behind the counter stood a tall, thin man with a long beard, his eyes twinkling with curiosity as he noticed his new customers.

"Good day to you both," the enchanter said, his voice deep and pleasant. "What can I do for you?"

Harry stepped forward, holding out his glasses. "I was hoping you could enchant these. Make them unbreakable, maybe add some other useful features?"

The enchanter took the glasses, examining them closely. "Unbreakable is easy enough. But I can also make them impervious to dust and water, and I can add night vision and occlumency barriers, if you'd like."

Harry glanced at Xenophilius, who nodded approvingly. "Those would be very useful, Harry. Occlumency will protect your mind from being read by others, and night vision will be handy in dark places."

Harry nodded, feeling more and more excited by the possibilities. "Yes, that sounds perfect. Can you also add anti-summoning charms? I don't want anyone to be able to summon them off my face."

The enchanter smiled, clearly impressed by Harry's thoughtfulness. "Consider it done. Give me a few minutes, and your glasses will be as good as new—no, better than new."

While the enchanter worked, Harry and Xenophilius wandered around the shop, admiring the various enchanted items on display. Harry felt a sense of wonder and amazement at the magical world around him. Even after all this time, there was still so much he didn't know, so much he had yet to discover.

When the enchanter finally handed the glasses back to Harry, he could hardly believe the transformation. The lenses sparkled with a faint magical glow, and they felt sturdier in his hands. He put them on and immediately noticed the difference—his vision was sharper, clearer, and he could even sense the occlumency barriers protecting his mind.

"Thank you," Harry said sincerely, feeling a rush of gratitude. "These are incredible."

The enchanter smiled warmly. "You're very welcome. I'm glad I could help."

Harry felt a sense of accomplishment as he paid the enchanter three Galleons for his newly enhanced glasses. The enchantments were well worth the price, and he couldn't wait to see how they would aid him in the future. With the transaction completed, Harry and Xenophilius Lovegood left the shop and made their way to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

Madam Malkin had already prepared all of Harry's clothes in various bags, just as he had ordered. The clothes were of the highest quality, tailored perfectly to his measurements. Harry had spared no expense, knowing that he would need durable and comfortable clothing for his time at both Magical and Muggle world. Among his purchases was a custom-made dragon-hide jacket and matching shoes, both of which were as stylish as they were functional.

As Madam Malkin handed over the bags, Harry felt a thrill of excitement. It was the first time he had ever owned anything so luxurious. The Dursleys had always dressed him in Dudley's old, oversized clothes, but now, Harry finally had something of his own. He thanked Madam Malkin and paid her generously, feeling a sense of pride as he stored everything in his trunk.

After leaving the clothing store, Harry and Mr. Lovegood continued their exploration of Diagon Alley. They passed by a small gift shop, and something inside caught Harry's eye. It was a toy phoenix, perched elegantly on a wooden stand. The shopkeeper explained that the phoenix could be charmed to fly around a specific area by placing an enchanted stone in the room. The phoenix would circle the stone periodically, creating a calming and beautiful display.

Harry thought of Luna Lovegood, whom he was about to meet. Though he had never met her before, he already felt a connection to her through her father. Mr. Lovegood had spoken so fondly of his daughter, and Harry wanted to make a good impression. The phoenix seemed like the perfect gift—magical, unique, and something that would surely bring a smile to Luna's face.

"I'll take it," Harry said, smiling at the shopkeeper.

He paid for the toy phoenix and carefully placed it in his trunk. Mr. Lovegood looked at the gift with approval. "Luna will love that," he said warmly. "She's always had a fondness for magical creatures, especially ones as magnificent as a phoenix."

Harry felt a surge of warmth at the thought of making Luna happy. He knew what it was like to be an outsider, and he could already sense that Luna was someone special.

The two continued their shopping spree, visiting several more stores that piqued Harry's curiosity. Although he didn't know what half of them sold, Mr. Lovegood was always ready with an explanation. They wandered into shops filled with strange and fascinating items: one store sold enchanted quills that wrote by themselves, while another specialized in magical plants that could sing or change colors.

Harry was fascinated by the diversity of the magical world. Every corner of Diagon Alley seemed to hold something new and exciting, and he couldn't get enough of it. Mr. Lovegood patiently answered all of Harry's questions, his eccentric yet knowledgeable manner making the experience even more enjoyable.

Eventually, their wanderings led them to the darker, more foreboding streets of Knockturn Alley. The contrast to the bustling, cheerful atmosphere of Diagon Alley was stark. The narrow, dimly lit streets were filled with sinister-looking shops and even more sinister-looking people. Hooded figures moved silently through the shadows, and Harry felt a shiver run down his spine.

"Stay close, Harry," Mr. Lovegood advised in a low voice. "Knockturn Alley can be a dangerous place if you're not careful."

Despite the warning, Harry found himself intrigued by the dark allure of Knockturn Alley. It was a world unlike anything he had ever seen before, filled with mystery and danger. As they passed by various shops, Harry caught glimpses of cursed objects, dark potions, and strange artifacts. It was both fascinating and terrifying.

At one point, Mr. Lovegood stopped in front of a particularly shabby-looking shop. The sign above the door was barely legible, but inside, Harry could see small, hunched figures moving around in cages. The sight made his heart ache.

"This is where they sell house-elves," Mr. Lovegood explained quietly. "It's not a practice I agree with, but unfortunately, it's still legal in our world."

Harry had heard of house-elves before, but seeing them in person was different. The creatures looked miserable, their large eyes filled with sadness and resignation. Harry felt a pang of sympathy for them. The idea of owning another living being made him uncomfortable, but he knew that if he didn't buy them, they might end up with someone who would treat them poorly.

"How much do they cost?" Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Each house-elf costs around 900 Galleons," Mr. Lovegood replied. "But if you haggle a bit, you might be able to get a better price."

Harry hesitated for a moment, thinking of the massive sum. He had never spent so much money in his life, but then again, he had never had this much money either. After a moment of consideration, he made up his mind.

"I'll buy two," Harry said firmly. "Healthy, young house-elves."

The shopkeeper, a greasy-looking man with a permanent sneer, raised an eyebrow but quickly agreed to the sale after some haggling. Harry managed to negotiate the price down to 1,500 Galleons for both elves.

He felt a mix of relief and guilt as he handed over the money. The shopkeeper grinned as he unlocked the cages and released the two house-elves were small, with large, bat-like ears and big, round eyes. They looked up at Harry with a mixture of awe and gratitude, and Harry felt a pang of empathy for them. He introduced himself, and they quickly pledged their loyalty to him, their new master.

Harry knelt down to speak to them. "You won't be treated badly, I promise. I need you to go to my property, Runestone Castle, and help clean it up. You'll also be helping Reeny, my other house-elf, and keeping her company when I'm not there."

The elves nodded eagerly, clearly relieved to be leaving the shop. With a final wave, they Disapparated, heading straight to Runestone Castle as Harry had instructed.

With the house-elves taken care of, Harry and Mr. Lovegood continued their exploration of Knockturn Alley. Despite the unsettling atmosphere, Harry found himself growing more and more curious about the dark arts. He knew it was dangerous territory, but he also knew that understanding it might be important in the future.

Eventually, after they had seen all there was to see in Knockturn Alley, Harry decided it was time to head to the Lovegood residence. He had bought everything he needed, and he was eager to meet Luna and retrieve the book Mr. Lovegood had mentioned.

"Shall we head to my house then?" Mr. Lovegood asked cheerfully.

Harry nodded, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He had never been invited to someone's house before, especially not in the magical world. The idea of meeting Luna, who Mr. Lovegood had described as a bit eccentric but brilliant, intrigued him. He felt a connection to her already, knowing what it was like to be called names and bullied for being different.