Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

A Start
Podmore was waiting with a camera when Harry came back the next morning. It appeared that he'd actually marked Harry into his busy schedule since he didn't mention having to run off to court or to speak with other clients when Harry turned up.

"What do you mean pictures?" Harry asked.

"Bruises fade," Podmore said, "pictures last forever. Now hold up the Prophet with the date like I told you and stay still."

Harry did as he was told, but was being chastised by Podmore a moment later. "No no, don't smile," he said, and Harry could sense the exasperation coming off of him like one could sense dark magic. "Look sullen and unhappy. We're not taking class photos, we're documenting evidence."

After one photo Harry lifted his shirt and another was taken of his chest and then of his back. Then they sat down and Harry spent ten uncomfortable minutes describing his life at the Dursleys to the Barrister including every injury he could remember receiving there.

"Have you told anyone about your treatment there?" Podmore asked.

"Last year my friend Ron Weasley and his brothers broke me out of my room with their flying car. Uncle Vernon fell out the window trying to stop them from taking me. They had to bust the bars out of my window, so I suppose they know. And the last two years before summer I asked the Headmaster if I could stay at school over the summer because I didn't like it at home."

"Albus Dumbledore?" Podmore asked, and when Harry nodded he scribbled something down. Harry wasn't sure if he was pleased or not that Podmore had started a new pile of papers just for Harry. It wasn't tall yet, but he wondered if it would be eventually.

"What exactly did you say to him?"

"I said the Dursleys didn't like me and that I was hungry a lot during the summer, and that Dudley and his friends liked to go ‘Harry hunting.'

"Harry hunting?"

Harry turned red. "They chase me down every day and hit me. Sometimes I get away."

"Did you tell the Headmaster what Harry hunting is?"

"No, he didn't ask. He just said the same as the year before, that there's magic on my aunt and uncle's house and I have to stay there for the magic to protect me... I think he called the magic a ward."

"What about the Minister? Did you tell him how they treat you?"

"No," Harry said, "just that they threw me out. He didn't give me much of a chance to say anything."

A question suddenly popped into Harry's head and he asked, "What do you suppose the Minister meant that he didn't have a say in where I went? He's the Minister right? Doesn't he have the final say in everything?"

"Not when it comes to custody of children," Podmore said. "He knows that Albus Dumbledore has custody of you."

"The Headmaster?" Harry asked.

"I looked into things a little last night. Apparently when your parents died and it became clear that your Godfather wasn't a suitable choice to take you, the Headmaster petitioned the Wizengamot for custody of you and then took you from the orphanage and placed you with your relatives."

Harry's mind felt sluggish for a few moments as he tried to process everything Podmore had told him. "What Godfather," he asked, and then, "I was in the orphanage? The one across the street?"

"For less than 24 hours you resided at the orphanage," Podmore said. "And your Godfather is Sirius Black."

"The murderer that's on the loose?" Harry asked, feeling sick and like his eyes were going to pop out of his head at the same time.

"The same," he told Harry, watching the color drain from his client's face. "You don't know the story?"

"That must have been what the Minister was keeping from me," Harry said weakly.

Podmore muttered something inaudible but Harry was sure there were choice words in there, and then began rummaging in one of his many desk drawers for something. A few moments later he came out with an article from the Daily Prophet and handed it to Harry. It was a few weeks old and Sirius Black's mugshot, the same one that was plastered all over Diagon and Knockturn Alley, was on the front page. Harry began devouring the words as they recounted the sordid details of how 12 years prior Sirius Black had betrayed his best friends James and Lily Potter to the Dark Lord and then murdered his other friend Peter Pettigrew before going completely insane as aurors hauled him away to Azkaban. The article said he had recently escaped but gave few details.

"He's coming after me to finish the job isn't he?" Harry asked himself, "That's why the Minister had aurors out looking for me the night I blew up Aunt Marge."

"It's likely that that's what the Ministry believes," Podmore said. "I'd bet my Galleons that Black has fled the country and will never return. Even one night in Azkaban would be enough to make any person want to run and never return."

Harry sighed. "I wish people would just tell me these things. I didn't even know I was a wizard or how my parents died until after I got my Hogwarts letter and Hagrid had to track us down to give it to me." Podmore made Harry recount this story as well as he scribbled down notes.

"I think we have a case," Podmore said after almost two hours of writing down details of Harry's life and dilemma. "I think I can get you removed from Albus Dumbledore's custody if he's unwilling to provide you a safe place to live and insists you go back to the Dursleys. The problem is where you will go after that. Anything involving you is likely to be politically charged."

"What do you mean?"

"You said you wanted to live with the Weasleys. Let's just say they agreed to take you. The Wizarding Welfare office would likely approve it, but the Minister or other Ministry officials would put their foot down and tie the Wizarding Welfare office up with legal red tape and paperwork to prevent you from going to them. You'd likely end up in the orphanage again."

"I don't understand," Harry said, trying to work over what Podmore had said. "Why wouldn't they want the Weasley's to take me? They're nice to me."

"It wouldn't be about them being nice, it would be about their political views. When a child grows up in a home they often grow up to have the same political views as those who raised them. If the Weasleys have a different set of political views than the Minister, or than other interested Ministry officials, then they would stop you from going there. They may end up suggesting other places for you to go that would suit their agendas better, but would be worse for you than living with your relatives."

"All of this over me?" Harry asked for confirmation. He wasn't anybody important. He knew he was the Boy-Who-Lived, but to him it hadn't ever really meant anything.

"Beyond being the Boy-Who-Lived you are also a Potter, one of the top 10 wealthy and influential wizarding families in the isles."

Harry frowned. "I don't have that much gold in my vault. Not even 2,000 Galleons," Harry said.

Podmore frowned. "That's doubtful."

Harry pulled the parchment from Gringotts out of his pocket and handed it to Podmore.

"This is an account in just your name. If you ask for an accounting of all of the Potter family assets, the Goblins will show you your family's fortune."

Harry sighed. "I don't want to go to the orphanage. There's got to be something we can figure out."

Podmore met Harry's eyes. "I'm still going over the law looking for a loophole. Even if we were able to get you emancipated, or perhaps partially emancipated, in order to do that we'd have to show that you're capable of taking care of yourself. Look at your clothes and hair... you look rough. You don't have a job even though you have a fortune to your name, you don't have a set place to live, and no, the Leaky Cauldron doesn't count."

"This," Harry pulled at his dingy shirt, "is what my relatives gave me to wear. It's all I've got. I don't usually buy myself clothes because I didn't think I had enough money to do that and keep buying books and robes for school. I'm also not allowed to go out into Muggle London for clothing."

Theodore Podmore looked like he was thinking through something for a moment. "Let's get one thing straight Mr. Potter," he said carefully. "I'm nobody's keeper. Do you understand? I'm not meant to be watching after thirteen year old children."

"I'm not asking you to."

"Good, just remember that. I'll tell you where to get clothes and get your hair cut because it's in the best interest of winning the case if you look more put together, but that's it. If we make it to court over this and end up going after emancipation or even just for your right to choose, you'll have to prove you can take care of yourself or make good decisions for yourself, so it's also in the best interest of this case that I help you as little as possible in personal matters."

"But in legal matters?" Harry asked, just to be certain he was clear.

"In legal matters you'd do well to heed my advice."

Harry nodded.

"Good. Now go back to Gringotts and get an accounting of all Potter assets. Down on the end of Knockturn there's a clothing store with two entrances. One entrance is here, the other is on the other side of the building out in Muggle London. Only wizards can pass through the barrier into Knocturn. There are no places to get your hair cut on either alley, but there is one straight across the road from the clothing store."

"The Minister told me not to go out with the Muggles," Harry said.

"The Minister isn't in charge of you," Podmore said. "If we're going to make a case for you being able to care for yourself, we'll have to show a history of good decision making on your part. I'll leave it up to you whether or not you want to go out, but I'll say that you should get your hair cut."

Harry nodded. "Yes sir."

"It's Theodore or Podmore. I work for you, you don't need to call me sir. Technically I'm the one who's supposed to call you sir."

Harry frowned. He didn't think he liked that at all. "Ok," he said uneasily.

He stood up to head to Gringotts, but before he made the door Podmore told him, "Don't throw your old clothes out when you get new things. Bring them to me and I'll keep them for evidence."

"Ok- Mr. Podmore."

"Just- go to Gringotts," he said, clearly irritated with his newest client.

Harry grinned at him and exited back out onto the alley. It was nearly lunch and his stomach was starting to rumble.

At Gringotts, the Goblins took his key to confirm his identity and told him to wait at the counter, but he was left waiting for almost fifteen minutes before a manager came out with the teller and looked down his crooked nose at him.

"Why are you asking to see the Potter family holdings?"

"I need to see what's in the accounts," Harry said.

"At this time we are unable to comply with the request."

Harry frowned. "Why not?"

"You are heir to the accounts and assets but there's a hold blocking you from accessing the accounts."

"What hold?"

The goblin handed Harry a piece of parchment and his eyes scanned down it. It looked like Dumbledore had been listed as Conservator of the account.

"What's a conservator?" Harry asked. He had a feeling he knew but wanted to be sure.

"Your account conservator may move funds between your accounts, choose when and if you have access to your accounts until you come of majority, and use funds from within your accounts for your care and keeping."

"Can he take money out of the accounts for other reasons?" Harry asked.

"He may not."

"What counts as care and keeping?"

"There is no definition."

"Can I see a list of what he's done in the accounts?"

"No. The Conservator has placed a hold."

Harry handed the parchment back to the Goblin manager. "Thanks," he said, but he didn't feel very thankful. He withdrew a few Galleons from his personal account and then put them in his pocket and left the bank. He'd have to talk to Podmore about the accounts. It wasn't that Harry really wanted access to the accounts, but Podmore must have wanted to know what was in them for a reason. Also, Harry hadn't discussed Podmore's fees yet and would have to find out soon if he'd have enough from the one account he did have access to to pay him.

Harry spotted Justin outside the orphanage as he walked back down the alley. He was sitting on a crumbling ledge looking bored.

"Hey," Harry said.

"Hey." Justin seemed irritated to see him.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

"Wasting away, what does it look like I'm doing?"

"Do you want to go with me to the clothing store? I'm not sure where it is."

"So I can watch you buy clothes for yourself?" he asked.

Harry shrugged and pulled at his shirt. "I don't have much. You don't have to come, you just looked bored spending your day wasting away."

"Fine," Justin said, and stood to follow Harry. Justin, Harry noticed, was wearing clothes that didn't look bad. He had a striped blue and gray shirt on and jeans that were a little frayed down near his shoes, but were otherwise ok.

"Why are you wearing those rags anyway?" Justin asked as they walked down the twisting alley.

"It's all I've got."

"Your family doesn't have money for nice clothes?"

"I'm sure they do," Harry said, "just never for me. I always get my cousin's hand-me-downs. They're nice when he gets them, but by the time I get them they're like this."

"Hm."

Justin stopped as the end of the alley came in sight and pointed to a door at the end. "There it is," he said.

Harry moved forward but Justin didn't, and Harry stopped. "You're not coming?"

"We're not friends Potter, and I'd rather be bored than watch you buying a new wardrobe." He turned and went back down the alley, looking miffed. Harry sighed and turned back to the door and went inside. It was a fairly regular looking clothing store and across the store Harry could see the front was a glass wall looking out onto a Muggle street in London.

"Yes?" a young man asked when he'd spotted Harry standing near the back. Harry turned and noticed the door he'd come out of read, ‘Staff Only.'

"Do you only take Muggle money?" he asked. He hoped not because he didn't want to have to go all the way back to Gringotts to exchange his coins for bills.

The man took a shirt off the rack and lifted the price tag up for Harry to see. There was a price in Muggle money in black ink, and below that a shimmering price in wizarding currency. Harry was sure only wizards would be able to see the shimmering ink.

"Thanks," Harry said.

"We don't size things up or down for you, so be sure whatever you get fits. There's no returns if you mess the clothes up with a spell or potions." He left Harry to browse and Harry felt like a kid in a candy store with all the possibilities. He chose a few pairs of jeans, a new pair of pajama bottoms, several t-shirts, new socks and underwear, and a crimson zip up hoodie.

"Excuse me?"

The young man was helping a customer, but a second store clerk had come out of a store room and came over to Harry.

"How can I help you?"

"What would I buy if I wanted to look nice in court?"

Her eyes flickered predictably up to his scar, and she asked, "At the Ministry?"

He nodded.

"You'll need dress robes. You can buy them at Madam Malkin's. You should wear dark slacks and probably a polo shirt under that. You'll also need dress shoes but we don't carry them." She led him to two racks of polo shirts and advised him not to pick out a flashy color, and then pointed out the dress slacks against the wall. Harry thanked her and picked out a pale green shirt and black slacks. His purchases were the exact amount that he had in his pocket, and Harry felt fortunate that he had enough.

The male clerk bagged up Harry's purchase and Harry left the way he'd come in, through the back and into Knocturn Alley. He passed Justin on his way back towards Diagon. Justin still looked irritated and Harry wished he knew why. As far as he knew, he'd never done anything to Justin or said anything rude to him. Instead of passing him Harry decided to turn and go back into the barrister's office. Podmore was inside packing things into his briefcase and looked like he was just getting ready to leave.

"I have less than five minutes to apparate to court, make it quick."

"There's a Conservator on the accounts. It's Professor Dumbledore. I'm not allowed to see any of the holdings."

Podmore shook his head and made a noise of disgust. "I'll have to contact Harrison Silver. He's the one we'll need to get access to those accounts."

"I don't want to work with him," Harry reminded him.

"You don't have a choice. He's the barrister for the Potter accounts. He knows the ins and outs of the accounts and holdings and until you gain full control over them you won't be able to change who represents the accounts."

"I don't know if I can pay him," Harry said. "I don't even know if I can pay you."

"Trust me," Podmore said. "You can."

He ushered Harry back out of the office and hurried down the street, leaving Harry standing there alone. Justin was still watching him.

"What are you so angry about?" Harry asked him, but Justin ignored him and turned around to go into the orphanage. Maybe if Harry had grown up in the orphanage he'd be angry too, but then again, he couldn't say he was entirely happy about how things were going for him just at the moment.

Chapter End Notes:
Just as a note: Harry is fairly independent in the beginnings of this story. I know he's only 13, but I have met 13 year olds who have experience with laywers. I have also met 13 year olds who are very independent and a little more mature for their age. Harry is naive but trying to figure things out as he goes. He's still immature in a lot of ways, but I wanted to write a story in which he takes matters into his own hands concerning his future.

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