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ffuturesThis is a crossover between the Harry Potter books, the Buffy The Vampire Slayer TV series, and the film Bedazzled (1967, not the 2000 remake), with some other crossovers and Easter eggs, so far including Dogma (1999) and Time Bandits (1981). All characters belong to their respective creators / owners / megacorporations of doom and not to me, please don't sue...
VIII - Bank Heist
Out of long habit Harry woke early the following morning. He lay in bed for a while, trying to shake off his tiredness, and gradually remembered all the events of the previous day. As he did, he realised that he would probably never see any of his friends or Hedwig again, unless he made an effort to find them when he was in his nineties. About the best thing he could say about it was that he was alive, and Voldermort probably wouldn't even be born until the late twenties if he'd been at school in the forties. If the bastard did eventually turn up Harry ought to have some advantages. Meanwhile he'd probably need to get an owl eventually, but he'd leave it as long as possible, let the memories fade a little. Realistically, he should stay clear of the families of everyone he knew; Hermione, the Potters and Evans, Blacks, Weasleys and Longbottoms. They probably wouldn't be anything like the people he remembered, and it would be too easy to make a mistake and reveal that he was from the future.
He heard a church clock strike eight and set his watch to that time then got up, remembering that Aberforth had shown him a guest bathroom across the corridor, found a bathrobe and went to use it. Although there didn't seem to be much in the way of conventional plumbing the bath began to fill with pleasantly warm water, while Harry shaved with a low-powered cutting spell and used some of the other facilities.
As he laid back in the water to soak he remembered that he had somehow committed to travelling with Dumbledore's sister. He'd never even talked to the girl (unless their brief encounter in the afterlife counted) and knew almost nothing about her, and he had no idea how he was supposed to handle that. Would she even want to travel with him? From what Aberforth had said he was about the same age as Harry, although he seemed older, and she was a year or so younger, the same age as Ginny Weasley or Luna Lovegood. How was he going to keep a kid that age out of trouble? Or himself, if it came to that?
And then there was the bloody bank fraud. He'd agreed to that without thinking, simply because Spiggott had suggested it and Halfrek had seemed to think it was a good idea. He wasn't sure that was a good recommendation, given that he was now pretty sure that God existed and they weren't on his / her side. All of that ignored, it was a crime in the magic and muggle communities, muggle baiting and theft at the very least, and even with magic to help him he had no idea how to make it work without getting caught. He'd definitely need a good disguise; polyjuice if the stuff had been invented yet (but where would he buy it without the Aurors taking an interest?), suitable clothing, and so forth. If he showed up at the bank looking his real age they'd laugh at him; he'd have to go as an adult, and try to act the part well enough to convince suspicious muggles.
He circled back to the most positive thing he could think of - no Voldemort - and was dressed and heading downstairs towards the dining room as the church clock began to strike nine. He made a mental note to get real nineteenth-century clothing, the clothing he'd transfigured had zippers on the flies, press studs, and other anachronistic details.
Aberforth and the girl - Ariana, he remembered - were already helping themselves from chafing dishes on a side table. Harry wasn't quite sure what to say, so settled for "Good morning" and waited to see what they'd say.
"'Morning," said Aberforth. "Grab a plate and some food while it's hot, we've got a lot to talk about. Ariana, this is Harry Porter, I think you met him last night. Harry, my sister Ariana. I've told her what we discussed last night, you'll probably need to fill in a lot of the details."
Ariana put her plate down and came over to Harry. She was a little shorter than him, with long dark blonde hair, and an odd half-smile, not quite as pretty as he remembered, but more human, somehow. She held out her hand; Harry hesitated for a moment, unsure of the etiquette, then gently shook it, saying "A pleasure to meet you properly."
She smiled more broadly and said "You have better manners than Mister Grindelwald, that's a good start."
"He didn't have a good reputation in my time. He was the first Dark Lord of the twentieth century, he and his followers killed thousands. But that'll never happen now."
"Good thing too. Come, get some food and join us."
"Thank you." Harry helped himself to kippers, some scrambled egg and cooked tomatoes, and sat facing them. "Were there any developments overnight?"
"Bathilda was here at the crack of dawn," said Aberforth, "wanted to know what had happened to her precious nephew."
"Bathilda?" asked Harry.
"Bathilda Bagshott," said Aberforth. Harry remembered the name, the author of the History of Magic text Binns used. "She lives up the road, Grindelwald was her nephew. I told her that the Aurors were still investigating and she needed to talk to them, but she really didn't take it very well."
"That's interesting," said Harry. "She wrote the history book that Hogwarts used in my time, can't remember much about it because our teacher kept going back to goblin rebellions and it was pretty boring, but I'm pretty sure that wasn't mentioned in the introduction."
Ariana swallowed a fried mushroom and said "Sounds like your teacher believes in the Binns theory."
"Binns theory?"
"The idea that you can identify the really important moments in magical history by tracking goblin rebellions and their causes. Like the time they rebelled because an important goblin had been killed during the witch burnings. There's probably something in it, but you usually have to dig to find cause and effect." She looked at Aberforth and added "they wouldn't let me have a wand, but I've been reading your text books since I was nine."
"He's a ghost in my time," said Harry. "That might be why he kept talking about rebellions, but he never said why they were important. It was so boring nobody cared."
Aberforth drank some pumpkin juice, seemed to think for a moment, then said "Think he died in the eighteenth century, he's been haunting the history classrooms ever since. What does your history teacher say about him?"
"He was the only history teacher we had."
"Christ, whose bright idea was that?"
"I think it might have been your brother's. I'm not sure, but I think he didn't want us to know too much about recent history."
"You said Grindelwald became a Dark Lord," said Ariana. "If Albus had any part in that he'd probably want to keep it quiet for the greater good."
"He used that phrase a lot," said Harry.
There was a brief pause, then Ariana said "I think he got it from Grindelwald."
Harry nearly choked on the mouthful he was eating, swallowed a couple of times until his throat was clear, and said "That makes a disturbing amount of sense."
"We'll probably never know," said Aberforth, "and to be honest I'd sooner let it go. Whatever happened in your original time won't happen now. We need to concentrate on what might happen instead. Any thoughts on what's coming over the next few years?"
"First off, the Chudley Cannons probably won't win the final any time soon unless things change a lot. I think their last win was four or five years ago?"
"Ninety-two."
"Sounds about right. As of nineteen ninety-four that's still their last win. If nothing changes they'll have the longest losing streak in League history. And unfortunately that's more or less where my knowledge ends. Anything I knew about wizarding history from now on has probably changed a lot, and most of it was trivia. I remember your brother's chocolate frog card said he'd defeated Grindelwald in ...um... 1945, I think, and that he'd worked on the alchemy of dragon's blood with Nicholas Flaumel, but they didn't even give a date for that."
"Took him a hell of a long time to defeat Grindelwald," said Aberforth.
"There was a big muggle war going on then, Britain was in it from thirty-nine to forty five or so, and another one earlier from nineteen-fourteen to eighteen, both of them involved most of the countries in the world, millions of people were killed, so there was a lot going on that might have delayed things, I suppose."
"Millions? A thousand thousand?" Aberforth asked incredulously.
"Yes. The first one involved most of the countries in Europe, it was mostly fought in France and at sea. Then at the end of it there was a huge epidemic and a big revolution in Russia, I think the epidemic killed more people than the actual war. I can't remember the numbers, maybe twenty million, feels about right."
"Merlin!"
"The second one was much worse, started with a civil war in Spain and Germany invading a lot of other countries, that involved pretty much the whole world. Germany was ruled by a lunatic dictator and Grindelwald and his people were backing them, I think, something like fifty million people were killed."
"And Grindelwald was involved in that?" asked Ariana.
"I think he got a lot of his ideas from Hitler, that's the German dictator, or maybe it was the other way around."
"And Albus took decades to stop him?"
"Afraid so."
"I thought I loved Albus," said Ariana, "but if that's all true, them maybe his death was for... well, I suppose the greater good."
Halfrek arrived with company, a dark-haired woman who looked at Harry and Aberforth with an air of distaste. Both were expensively dressed. "Good morning," said Aberforth. "Miss Halfrek and...?"
"Anyanka," said the stranger. "Patron saint of scorned women."
"Would you like anything? Tea or coffee, something to eat?"
"Just coffee for me," said Halfrek. "we've a lot to do today."
"Yes, coffee would be nice," said Anyanka. In moments a fresh pot appeared on the table, left by an unseen house elf.
"I'd imagine that scorned women keep you very busy," said Ariana. "Thank you for taking the time to help us."
"I owe Halfrek a favour, and it will help some of my clients. Young man, can you pretend to be an arrogant lecher?"
"Um... me?" asked Harry. "Not really something I know much about."
"We will need you to play the gallant," said Halfrek. "Act as though we are your paramours."
"Bloody hell... I'm... it's really not my sort of thing, I can't even dance."
"You won't have to. With the right clothes, some polyjuice, a little of his hair and some of our magic to add some charisma you will easily play him... a titan of commerce and influence, who might see an opportunity to gain a valuable contact by helping the Duke of Chalfont."
"Who exactly are we talking about?" asked Ariana.
"An Italian," said Anyanka, "which fits nicely with the Duke's ancestry. You're probably never heard of him, he's rarely in Britain. But any self-respecting banker knows the name, and would probably give up their first-born child to serve him."
Ariana stared at her. "Would this gentleman happen to be known as The Immortal?"
Anyanka looked annoyed "Oh well, that spoils that surprise. How did you know?"
"He's been at the top of the Witch Weekly list of eligible European bachelors for the last three years."
"I've never heard of him," said Harry. "When you say immortal, do you mean it literally? I don't think he's around in the time I've come from."
"He vanishes occasionally," said Anyanka, "leaves his investments in the hands of underlings and lets people forget about him for a few decades. Eventually he comes back as his own grandson, or a distant relative, deals with anyone who has betrayed him, and carries on as though he's never been gone."
"From what you said the next century is very violent," said Aberforth, "he might choose to vanish for a while."
"Okay," said Harry, "I suppose that makes sense. But the whole robbery thing worries me. I've been given a second chance by... well, God I suppose, and the Metatron. Rushing into a life of crime doesn't seem much of a way to repay that."
"Then don't do it," said Halfrek. "No skin off my nose, Anyanka and I will find someone else to play the Immortal and keep the money for ourselves. Lucifer probably won't mind, unless he decides you're being ungrateful, and that's really not our problem. You'll be broke, of course, and you and Ariana might as well forget about an education, I know Aberforth can't afford to pay for it."
"She's got a point," said Aberforth, "Albus was always banging on about how little money we had left, and I don't think he was exaggerating much. It was a big part of the argument yesterday, if he'd buggered off to Europe with bloody Gellert I'd probably have had to leave school after my OWLs and work for a living. As it is now there's about enough money to cover the rest of my education and keep the house running for a year or two beyond that. None of us expected Ariana to be able to get a proper education, and a lot of the money that should have gone for that ended up paying for other things."
"Even so..." Harry began.
"How badly will this hurt the Duke and the Immortal?" asked Ariana.
"It'll be a nuisance for both of them," said Anyanka. "Eventually it ought to make it harder for Mazzini to get away with murder. I'm not sure about the Immortal, it might damage his reputation a bit, more likely someone will decide that he did it to punish the Duke."
"Maybe think of it as a loan," said Aberforth. "Once you leave school and get a job save some money, when you have enough savings pay it back to the rightful heirs of the dukedom."
"You'll notice that the Metatron hasn't turned up to tell you not to do it," said Halfrek. "If you go into it with good intentions and do something good with the money I think you'll be all right."
Harry took a deep breath, mentally crossed his fingers, and said "Okay... okay, let's do this."
"Try not to get caught," said Ariana. "We need the money."
Handsome, mustached and aged up to about forty, flanked by two gorgeous women, and wearing a suit and cloak that probably cost more than most people's annual wages, Harry strode into the City and Continental Bank and tapped the bell on the reception desk. A clerk looked up, his eyes passing over Anyanka and Halfrek before reluctantly focusing on Harry. "Can I help you, sir?"
"I have business with your manager, Signor Banks." Halfrek's magic gave him confidence, Anyanka had given him an Italian accent and the gravitas needed for the role. "Now, please."
The clerk checked some sort of diary and said "I'm sorry, I can't see an appointment here."
Harry lowered his voice and leaned closer, saying "I am here for the Duke of Chalfont. Time is of the essence." He showed the crest on the envelope, but didn't let the clerk take it.
"Just a moment, sir." The clerk went into a back room. Harry waited, checking a golden pocket watch to ensure that the polyjuice would still be effective for another forty minutes or so, and did his best to look insulted at having to wait. After a minute or so the clerk came back with an older man, who Harry guessed was the manager, and was ushered into a back room, accompanied by Halfrek. Anyanka stood outside the office door, her arms crossed and glaring at anyone who seemed likely to want to disturb the "meeting".
"You're here for the Duke of Chalfont?"
"One moment," said Harry, turning to the clerk. "Leave us."
"But..."
Harry snapped "Leave!"
Halfrek grasped the clerk's arm, none to gently, and walked him to the door. Once it was closed Harry said "My patience is not inexhaustible."
"May I ask who you are, sir?"
"No, Signor Banks. Suffice it to say that I am related to the Duke, and am acting on his behalf, and on behalf of his Italian lawyers, Wolfram and Hart." Harry had no idea what that was about, but Halfrek had insisted that he say it.
"Oh..." It was obvious that Banks knew something about the lawyers, he looked terrified.
"Here are your instructions; follow them precisely." Harry handed him the sealed note, and waited while he read it.
"Do you have the cheque?"
"Of course."
Harry handed him the cheque, and the manager checked it against a ledger. "This is the Duke's signature and seal, but it's a substantial sum, we may need to send out to another branch."
"Nonsense," said Halfrek. "As of nine this morning this branch had thirteen hundred and forty-six pounds on hand, more than a thousand in sovereigns. There have been no major withdrawals."
"How do you know that?" demanded Banks.
Harry's watch chimed the quarter hour. "I'm waiting."
"But..."
"You are less than helpful," said Halfrek, "but The Immortal can be patient. Within reason."
Banks stared at Harry. "The Immortal? You are The Immortal?"
"And you are impertinent," said Harry, the magic somehow guiding his words. "We are wasting time, and my grandson is waiting."
"Yes sir," said Banks, "at once." He turned to an ornately gilded safe.
Fifteen minutes later Halfrek was packing the last sovereigns into a leather carpet bag that was enchanted with feather-light and strengthening spells. Eventually she said "The sum is correct and complete."
"You have aided me and I am grateful," said Harry, scrawling an illegible signature on a receipt. He had no idea what the Immortal's signature was like, but hopefully neither did Banks. Guided by Halfrek's magic, he added "Should you visit me in Rome you will not be introduced to the Room of Pain. There may even be some possibility of a visit to the Dungeon of Pleasure, if you make it worth my while. But for now, good day." He took the bag from Halfrek and turned to the door, Halfrek following him out and Anyanka going ahead.
Once they were outside Anyanka murmured "We're being followed. Take my arm and walk a little faster." Harry complied, and they walked on a hundred yards or so, with Anyanka abruptly pulling him into a narrow alley. He heard someone running as Anyanka turned on her heel and apparated them to a quiet corner of Regent's Park, which had a muggle-repelling charm to deter casual observation. A minute later Halfrek appeared.
"Who was that following us?" asked Harry.
"I'm not sure," said Anyanka, "probably a constable. But you were gone before he reached the alley, and I was gone by the time he remembered me."
"You were both brilliant," said Harry. "If there's ever anything I can do to repay you please let me know."
"A few hundred sovereigns would be nice," said Anyanka, "but not right now, Miss Dumbledore needs it more than we do. And you too, I suppose," she added reluctantly.
"Admit it, Anyanka," said Halfrek, "that was fun. And hopefully The Immortal will be furious when he finds out."
"His punishments are always... interesting" said Anyanka, licking her lips.
"What's the next step?" Harry asked hastily. He had a feeling that he really didn't want to know more about The Immortal or his punishments.
"We wait for the polyjuice to wear off," said Halfrek, "then I'll cancel the other spells and restore your clothing. After that we apparate to Diagon Alley and set up your accounts."
TBC
Notes: Harry is partially wrong about zips and press studs; the earliest versions were patented in the USA in 1891-2 but were still rare in Britain in 1899. He is also wrong about a lot of the finer details of muggle history, since he was learning about goblin rebellions in the years that are most exposed to modern history in muggle schools.
Binn's theory of goblin rebellions originally appeared in my story Harry Potter and the Half-God Prince.
Aberforth is sometimes described as an illiterate with an abnormal interest in goats. It's notable that the main people who say this in the canon of the books are Albus, after nearly a hundred years of ill-will between the brothers, and Rita Skeeter, who exaggerated much of what she wrote. He attended Hogawarts for seven years and appears to have done well as a student, with no evidence that he dropped out or had to repeat years. He later owned and ran a pub, a job that requires literacy and math skills to keep track of accounts and orders. The goats will not be appearing in this story.
The Immortal is repeatedly mentioned but never actually seen in The Girl in Question, an episode of Angel season 5. He is immensely rich and powerful, an old nemesis of Angel and Spike who punishes them in 1894 by seducing their mistresses Darla and Drusilla. Wolfram and Hart are evil lawyers, the company is owned and operated by demons.
Comments please before I post to archives. Previous chapters are posted on these sites:
On Twisting the Hellmouth - https://www.tthfanfic.org/Story-34251/MarcusRowland+Harry+Potter+Undazzled.htm
On Fanfiction.net - https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14336114/1/Harry-Potter-Undazzled
On Archive of Our Own - https://archiveofourown.org/works/54407350
VIII - Bank Heist
Out of long habit Harry woke early the following morning. He lay in bed for a while, trying to shake off his tiredness, and gradually remembered all the events of the previous day. As he did, he realised that he would probably never see any of his friends or Hedwig again, unless he made an effort to find them when he was in his nineties. About the best thing he could say about it was that he was alive, and Voldermort probably wouldn't even be born until the late twenties if he'd been at school in the forties. If the bastard did eventually turn up Harry ought to have some advantages. Meanwhile he'd probably need to get an owl eventually, but he'd leave it as long as possible, let the memories fade a little. Realistically, he should stay clear of the families of everyone he knew; Hermione, the Potters and Evans, Blacks, Weasleys and Longbottoms. They probably wouldn't be anything like the people he remembered, and it would be too easy to make a mistake and reveal that he was from the future.
He heard a church clock strike eight and set his watch to that time then got up, remembering that Aberforth had shown him a guest bathroom across the corridor, found a bathrobe and went to use it. Although there didn't seem to be much in the way of conventional plumbing the bath began to fill with pleasantly warm water, while Harry shaved with a low-powered cutting spell and used some of the other facilities.
As he laid back in the water to soak he remembered that he had somehow committed to travelling with Dumbledore's sister. He'd never even talked to the girl (unless their brief encounter in the afterlife counted) and knew almost nothing about her, and he had no idea how he was supposed to handle that. Would she even want to travel with him? From what Aberforth had said he was about the same age as Harry, although he seemed older, and she was a year or so younger, the same age as Ginny Weasley or Luna Lovegood. How was he going to keep a kid that age out of trouble? Or himself, if it came to that?
And then there was the bloody bank fraud. He'd agreed to that without thinking, simply because Spiggott had suggested it and Halfrek had seemed to think it was a good idea. He wasn't sure that was a good recommendation, given that he was now pretty sure that God existed and they weren't on his / her side. All of that ignored, it was a crime in the magic and muggle communities, muggle baiting and theft at the very least, and even with magic to help him he had no idea how to make it work without getting caught. He'd definitely need a good disguise; polyjuice if the stuff had been invented yet (but where would he buy it without the Aurors taking an interest?), suitable clothing, and so forth. If he showed up at the bank looking his real age they'd laugh at him; he'd have to go as an adult, and try to act the part well enough to convince suspicious muggles.
He circled back to the most positive thing he could think of - no Voldemort - and was dressed and heading downstairs towards the dining room as the church clock began to strike nine. He made a mental note to get real nineteenth-century clothing, the clothing he'd transfigured had zippers on the flies, press studs, and other anachronistic details.
Aberforth and the girl - Ariana, he remembered - were already helping themselves from chafing dishes on a side table. Harry wasn't quite sure what to say, so settled for "Good morning" and waited to see what they'd say.
"'Morning," said Aberforth. "Grab a plate and some food while it's hot, we've got a lot to talk about. Ariana, this is Harry Porter, I think you met him last night. Harry, my sister Ariana. I've told her what we discussed last night, you'll probably need to fill in a lot of the details."
Ariana put her plate down and came over to Harry. She was a little shorter than him, with long dark blonde hair, and an odd half-smile, not quite as pretty as he remembered, but more human, somehow. She held out her hand; Harry hesitated for a moment, unsure of the etiquette, then gently shook it, saying "A pleasure to meet you properly."
She smiled more broadly and said "You have better manners than Mister Grindelwald, that's a good start."
"He didn't have a good reputation in my time. He was the first Dark Lord of the twentieth century, he and his followers killed thousands. But that'll never happen now."
"Good thing too. Come, get some food and join us."
"Thank you." Harry helped himself to kippers, some scrambled egg and cooked tomatoes, and sat facing them. "Were there any developments overnight?"
"Bathilda was here at the crack of dawn," said Aberforth, "wanted to know what had happened to her precious nephew."
"Bathilda?" asked Harry.
"Bathilda Bagshott," said Aberforth. Harry remembered the name, the author of the History of Magic text Binns used. "She lives up the road, Grindelwald was her nephew. I told her that the Aurors were still investigating and she needed to talk to them, but she really didn't take it very well."
"That's interesting," said Harry. "She wrote the history book that Hogwarts used in my time, can't remember much about it because our teacher kept going back to goblin rebellions and it was pretty boring, but I'm pretty sure that wasn't mentioned in the introduction."
Ariana swallowed a fried mushroom and said "Sounds like your teacher believes in the Binns theory."
"Binns theory?"
"The idea that you can identify the really important moments in magical history by tracking goblin rebellions and their causes. Like the time they rebelled because an important goblin had been killed during the witch burnings. There's probably something in it, but you usually have to dig to find cause and effect." She looked at Aberforth and added "they wouldn't let me have a wand, but I've been reading your text books since I was nine."
"He's a ghost in my time," said Harry. "That might be why he kept talking about rebellions, but he never said why they were important. It was so boring nobody cared."
Aberforth drank some pumpkin juice, seemed to think for a moment, then said "Think he died in the eighteenth century, he's been haunting the history classrooms ever since. What does your history teacher say about him?"
"He was the only history teacher we had."
"Christ, whose bright idea was that?"
"I think it might have been your brother's. I'm not sure, but I think he didn't want us to know too much about recent history."
"You said Grindelwald became a Dark Lord," said Ariana. "If Albus had any part in that he'd probably want to keep it quiet for the greater good."
"He used that phrase a lot," said Harry.
There was a brief pause, then Ariana said "I think he got it from Grindelwald."
Harry nearly choked on the mouthful he was eating, swallowed a couple of times until his throat was clear, and said "That makes a disturbing amount of sense."
"We'll probably never know," said Aberforth, "and to be honest I'd sooner let it go. Whatever happened in your original time won't happen now. We need to concentrate on what might happen instead. Any thoughts on what's coming over the next few years?"
"First off, the Chudley Cannons probably won't win the final any time soon unless things change a lot. I think their last win was four or five years ago?"
"Ninety-two."
"Sounds about right. As of nineteen ninety-four that's still their last win. If nothing changes they'll have the longest losing streak in League history. And unfortunately that's more or less where my knowledge ends. Anything I knew about wizarding history from now on has probably changed a lot, and most of it was trivia. I remember your brother's chocolate frog card said he'd defeated Grindelwald in ...um... 1945, I think, and that he'd worked on the alchemy of dragon's blood with Nicholas Flaumel, but they didn't even give a date for that."
"Took him a hell of a long time to defeat Grindelwald," said Aberforth.
"There was a big muggle war going on then, Britain was in it from thirty-nine to forty five or so, and another one earlier from nineteen-fourteen to eighteen, both of them involved most of the countries in the world, millions of people were killed, so there was a lot going on that might have delayed things, I suppose."
"Millions? A thousand thousand?" Aberforth asked incredulously.
"Yes. The first one involved most of the countries in Europe, it was mostly fought in France and at sea. Then at the end of it there was a huge epidemic and a big revolution in Russia, I think the epidemic killed more people than the actual war. I can't remember the numbers, maybe twenty million, feels about right."
"Merlin!"
"The second one was much worse, started with a civil war in Spain and Germany invading a lot of other countries, that involved pretty much the whole world. Germany was ruled by a lunatic dictator and Grindelwald and his people were backing them, I think, something like fifty million people were killed."
"And Grindelwald was involved in that?" asked Ariana.
"I think he got a lot of his ideas from Hitler, that's the German dictator, or maybe it was the other way around."
"And Albus took decades to stop him?"
"Afraid so."
"I thought I loved Albus," said Ariana, "but if that's all true, them maybe his death was for... well, I suppose the greater good."
Halfrek arrived with company, a dark-haired woman who looked at Harry and Aberforth with an air of distaste. Both were expensively dressed. "Good morning," said Aberforth. "Miss Halfrek and...?"
"Anyanka," said the stranger. "Patron saint of scorned women."
"Would you like anything? Tea or coffee, something to eat?"
"Just coffee for me," said Halfrek. "we've a lot to do today."
"Yes, coffee would be nice," said Anyanka. In moments a fresh pot appeared on the table, left by an unseen house elf.
"I'd imagine that scorned women keep you very busy," said Ariana. "Thank you for taking the time to help us."
"I owe Halfrek a favour, and it will help some of my clients. Young man, can you pretend to be an arrogant lecher?"
"Um... me?" asked Harry. "Not really something I know much about."
"We will need you to play the gallant," said Halfrek. "Act as though we are your paramours."
"Bloody hell... I'm... it's really not my sort of thing, I can't even dance."
"You won't have to. With the right clothes, some polyjuice, a little of his hair and some of our magic to add some charisma you will easily play him... a titan of commerce and influence, who might see an opportunity to gain a valuable contact by helping the Duke of Chalfont."
"Who exactly are we talking about?" asked Ariana.
"An Italian," said Anyanka, "which fits nicely with the Duke's ancestry. You're probably never heard of him, he's rarely in Britain. But any self-respecting banker knows the name, and would probably give up their first-born child to serve him."
Ariana stared at her. "Would this gentleman happen to be known as The Immortal?"
Anyanka looked annoyed "Oh well, that spoils that surprise. How did you know?"
"He's been at the top of the Witch Weekly list of eligible European bachelors for the last three years."
"I've never heard of him," said Harry. "When you say immortal, do you mean it literally? I don't think he's around in the time I've come from."
"He vanishes occasionally," said Anyanka, "leaves his investments in the hands of underlings and lets people forget about him for a few decades. Eventually he comes back as his own grandson, or a distant relative, deals with anyone who has betrayed him, and carries on as though he's never been gone."
"From what you said the next century is very violent," said Aberforth, "he might choose to vanish for a while."
"Okay," said Harry, "I suppose that makes sense. But the whole robbery thing worries me. I've been given a second chance by... well, God I suppose, and the Metatron. Rushing into a life of crime doesn't seem much of a way to repay that."
"Then don't do it," said Halfrek. "No skin off my nose, Anyanka and I will find someone else to play the Immortal and keep the money for ourselves. Lucifer probably won't mind, unless he decides you're being ungrateful, and that's really not our problem. You'll be broke, of course, and you and Ariana might as well forget about an education, I know Aberforth can't afford to pay for it."
"She's got a point," said Aberforth, "Albus was always banging on about how little money we had left, and I don't think he was exaggerating much. It was a big part of the argument yesterday, if he'd buggered off to Europe with bloody Gellert I'd probably have had to leave school after my OWLs and work for a living. As it is now there's about enough money to cover the rest of my education and keep the house running for a year or two beyond that. None of us expected Ariana to be able to get a proper education, and a lot of the money that should have gone for that ended up paying for other things."
"Even so..." Harry began.
"How badly will this hurt the Duke and the Immortal?" asked Ariana.
"It'll be a nuisance for both of them," said Anyanka. "Eventually it ought to make it harder for Mazzini to get away with murder. I'm not sure about the Immortal, it might damage his reputation a bit, more likely someone will decide that he did it to punish the Duke."
"Maybe think of it as a loan," said Aberforth. "Once you leave school and get a job save some money, when you have enough savings pay it back to the rightful heirs of the dukedom."
"You'll notice that the Metatron hasn't turned up to tell you not to do it," said Halfrek. "If you go into it with good intentions and do something good with the money I think you'll be all right."
Harry took a deep breath, mentally crossed his fingers, and said "Okay... okay, let's do this."
"Try not to get caught," said Ariana. "We need the money."
Handsome, mustached and aged up to about forty, flanked by two gorgeous women, and wearing a suit and cloak that probably cost more than most people's annual wages, Harry strode into the City and Continental Bank and tapped the bell on the reception desk. A clerk looked up, his eyes passing over Anyanka and Halfrek before reluctantly focusing on Harry. "Can I help you, sir?"
"I have business with your manager, Signor Banks." Halfrek's magic gave him confidence, Anyanka had given him an Italian accent and the gravitas needed for the role. "Now, please."
The clerk checked some sort of diary and said "I'm sorry, I can't see an appointment here."
Harry lowered his voice and leaned closer, saying "I am here for the Duke of Chalfont. Time is of the essence." He showed the crest on the envelope, but didn't let the clerk take it.
"Just a moment, sir." The clerk went into a back room. Harry waited, checking a golden pocket watch to ensure that the polyjuice would still be effective for another forty minutes or so, and did his best to look insulted at having to wait. After a minute or so the clerk came back with an older man, who Harry guessed was the manager, and was ushered into a back room, accompanied by Halfrek. Anyanka stood outside the office door, her arms crossed and glaring at anyone who seemed likely to want to disturb the "meeting".
"You're here for the Duke of Chalfont?"
"One moment," said Harry, turning to the clerk. "Leave us."
"But..."
Harry snapped "Leave!"
Halfrek grasped the clerk's arm, none to gently, and walked him to the door. Once it was closed Harry said "My patience is not inexhaustible."
"May I ask who you are, sir?"
"No, Signor Banks. Suffice it to say that I am related to the Duke, and am acting on his behalf, and on behalf of his Italian lawyers, Wolfram and Hart." Harry had no idea what that was about, but Halfrek had insisted that he say it.
"Oh..." It was obvious that Banks knew something about the lawyers, he looked terrified.
"Here are your instructions; follow them precisely." Harry handed him the sealed note, and waited while he read it.
"Do you have the cheque?"
"Of course."
Harry handed him the cheque, and the manager checked it against a ledger. "This is the Duke's signature and seal, but it's a substantial sum, we may need to send out to another branch."
"Nonsense," said Halfrek. "As of nine this morning this branch had thirteen hundred and forty-six pounds on hand, more than a thousand in sovereigns. There have been no major withdrawals."
"How do you know that?" demanded Banks.
Harry's watch chimed the quarter hour. "I'm waiting."
"But..."
"You are less than helpful," said Halfrek, "but The Immortal can be patient. Within reason."
Banks stared at Harry. "The Immortal? You are The Immortal?"
"And you are impertinent," said Harry, the magic somehow guiding his words. "We are wasting time, and my grandson is waiting."
"Yes sir," said Banks, "at once." He turned to an ornately gilded safe.
Fifteen minutes later Halfrek was packing the last sovereigns into a leather carpet bag that was enchanted with feather-light and strengthening spells. Eventually she said "The sum is correct and complete."
"You have aided me and I am grateful," said Harry, scrawling an illegible signature on a receipt. He had no idea what the Immortal's signature was like, but hopefully neither did Banks. Guided by Halfrek's magic, he added "Should you visit me in Rome you will not be introduced to the Room of Pain. There may even be some possibility of a visit to the Dungeon of Pleasure, if you make it worth my while. But for now, good day." He took the bag from Halfrek and turned to the door, Halfrek following him out and Anyanka going ahead.
Once they were outside Anyanka murmured "We're being followed. Take my arm and walk a little faster." Harry complied, and they walked on a hundred yards or so, with Anyanka abruptly pulling him into a narrow alley. He heard someone running as Anyanka turned on her heel and apparated them to a quiet corner of Regent's Park, which had a muggle-repelling charm to deter casual observation. A minute later Halfrek appeared.
"Who was that following us?" asked Harry.
"I'm not sure," said Anyanka, "probably a constable. But you were gone before he reached the alley, and I was gone by the time he remembered me."
"You were both brilliant," said Harry. "If there's ever anything I can do to repay you please let me know."
"A few hundred sovereigns would be nice," said Anyanka, "but not right now, Miss Dumbledore needs it more than we do. And you too, I suppose," she added reluctantly.
"Admit it, Anyanka," said Halfrek, "that was fun. And hopefully The Immortal will be furious when he finds out."
"His punishments are always... interesting" said Anyanka, licking her lips.
"What's the next step?" Harry asked hastily. He had a feeling that he really didn't want to know more about The Immortal or his punishments.
"We wait for the polyjuice to wear off," said Halfrek, "then I'll cancel the other spells and restore your clothing. After that we apparate to Diagon Alley and set up your accounts."
TBC
Notes: Harry is partially wrong about zips and press studs; the earliest versions were patented in the USA in 1891-2 but were still rare in Britain in 1899. He is also wrong about a lot of the finer details of muggle history, since he was learning about goblin rebellions in the years that are most exposed to modern history in muggle schools.
Binn's theory of goblin rebellions originally appeared in my story Harry Potter and the Half-God Prince.
Aberforth is sometimes described as an illiterate with an abnormal interest in goats. It's notable that the main people who say this in the canon of the books are Albus, after nearly a hundred years of ill-will between the brothers, and Rita Skeeter, who exaggerated much of what she wrote. He attended Hogawarts for seven years and appears to have done well as a student, with no evidence that he dropped out or had to repeat years. He later owned and ran a pub, a job that requires literacy and math skills to keep track of accounts and orders. The goats will not be appearing in this story.
The Immortal is repeatedly mentioned but never actually seen in The Girl in Question, an episode of Angel season 5. He is immensely rich and powerful, an old nemesis of Angel and Spike who punishes them in 1894 by seducing their mistresses Darla and Drusilla. Wolfram and Hart are evil lawyers, the company is owned and operated by demons.
Comments please before I post to archives. Previous chapters are posted on these sites:
On Twisting the Hellmouth - https://www.tthfanfic.org/Story-34251/MarcusRowland+Harry+Potter+Undazzled.htm
On Fanfiction.net - https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14336114/1/Harry-Potter-Undazzled
On Archive of Our Own - https://archiveofourown.org/works/54407350
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Date: 2026-07-30 01:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-07-30 08:37 am (UTC)