Harry Potter and The Other

When Lily Potter was in a bad mood, it was best not to contradict her. When she was annoyed, it was better to stay out of her sight. When she was upset, everyone tiptoed around the house. Right now, Lily Potter was in a terrible mood, extremely frustrated, and deeply upset. As soon as his parents came home, Harry sensed trouble and quickly hid in the attic. James would have escaped too if he hadn't returned with his wife, who blocked his every attempt at retreat.

"James Charles Potter, you need to do something!" Lily sobbed, then sat on the couch and burst into tears.

From past experiences with such arguments, James knew that running away in this situation was a bad idea—it would only make things worse later. The least damaging course of action for his nerves was to face the storm immediately. Redheads, as is well-known, are temperamental, and in some circumstances, this could come in handy. But not in this case.

He sighed gloomily and shuffled in front of the couch.

"But what can I do, darling?"

"Are you a man or a coward, James Potter?!" Lily shouted through her tears and sniffles. "We've been robbed—our son has been robbed! My little Harry-y-y..."

"Darling, goblins never make mistakes; everyone knows that. Protesting is useless—if the goblins say so, they can prove it."

"But this time they made a mistake, they did, they di-i-id..." she wailed loudly. James patiently shuffled beside her, taking his glasses on and off. "Find Dumbledore, tell him! He has to do something—it's because of his tricks that Harry got fined! Let Dumbledore pay, we didn't agree to thi-i-is..."

"Lily, dear, Dumbledore doesn't have money. Where would he get it from?"

"How can he not have money?! Who emptied the boy's vault? We put fifty thousand Galleons in there! I wanted to put in five thousand, but Dumbledore said he wouldn't let Harry spend much, that it was just in case!"

"The boy didn't spend much..."

"Exactly, Dumbledore took it all out himself! Let him return it now!"

"It was needed for the Order of the Phoenix's expenses, dear."

"What Order? What expenses? James, don't try to sweet-talk me! They lived at Sirius's house for free, and they mooched off him for food too. I know that for a fact—I asked Sirius about it. James, we're broke! How are we going to live?"

Lily began crying again. James hesitated, glanced at his sobbing wife, and then spoke with the resolve of someone jumping into icy water:

"Darling, don't cry! I... I'll go get a job!"

"Wh-who would want you..." she muttered through sobs.

"What do you mean, who?! I'll become an Auror; they pay Aurors well!" The idea appealed to James, and with each word, he spoke more decisively. "And Harry won't have to marry that obnoxious Ginny; she won't want him once she finds out."

Lily's tears instantly dried. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and looked at her husband.

"Jay, you're right. Now we won't be forced to keep that promise, and we won't have to give Harry to that trashy girl. Harry will find himself another bride, a beautiful and wealthy one. Did you see how she spoke to him? So rude!"

James seriously doubted the prospect of a wealthy bride—where would they find one now that they were broke?—but he immediately agreed, relieved that Lily had calmed down.

"Everything will be fine, darling, you'll see. First, we inform Molly that we're out of money and get a refusal. Then I'll start earning, and you and Harry can begin looking for another fiancée. The Potter family is ancient—there may still be some wealthy ones willing to ally with us."

"Alright, Jay, sit down. Let's calmly discuss everything." Lily patted the couch next to her, and James obediently sat down. "Dumbledore emptied our vault, and I'll make sure he regrets it, but there's still Sirius's inheritance. It didn't go to Harry, but to someone else, another Black. According to Sirius's will, all his property was supposed to go to Harry—it's impossible that Harry didn't get at least something. Even if this new heir bribed the goblins and took everything, we can dispute it. Sirius owed us a hundred and five thousand Galleons, so let him deal with his family."

The idea of protesting was doomed to fail, but James and Sirius had broken with their families too early to understand magical inheritance, and Lily, being Muggle-born, couldn't know how it worked either. She thought everything was inherited the same way as in the Muggle world. Having never kept track of his money, Sirius had long squandered his uncle's inheritance and was living off James. His only property was a small cottage from his Uncle Alphard, which had become a dump long before Azkaban. Right now, Sirius was sitting at home by the fireplace, uncharacteristically sober, waiting for good news from his friend about the return of the Black family inheritance.

He arrived at the Potters' house as soon as James called him through the fireplace.

"What's going on, Prongs?" he whispered, seeing the tear-stained Lily. "Did you two have another row over something trivial?"

"It's not trivial, Padfoot," James replied quietly. "We're out of money, and you're out of an inheritance. This is serious."

"You're kidding, right?"

"As serious as it gets... We just got back from the goblins."

"What are you two whispering about?" Lily noticed. "Sirius, come here. I need you."

"Coming, Lily, right away." He walked over to Lily, who was sitting on the couch like a queen in exile.

"Sirius, James and I have done everything we can. Now it's your turn to step up and get your inheritance back."

"And what can I do?" Sirius asked innocently, not yet grasping the full scope of the situation.

"As you remember, your death went as planned. A stand-in Harry inherited the Black estate according to your will, so it wouldn't go to Bellatrix. But now that the disguise has been lifted from our son, there's been some confusion at the bank, and your inheritance was given to one of your relatives. You need to sort this out; we have nothing to live on."

"Hmm..." Sirius thought for a moment. "Bella's dead, so the inheritance went to Narcissa. But I can't deal with this—I'm officially dead. Dumbledore will have to clear my name first, and then I'll talk to her. Cissy won't resist—her husband and son are in Azkaban, and she's nobody right now. If we threaten her and promise to get her husband and son released, she'll give everything back."

"Then Dumbledore should handle it," Lily reasoned. "When it comes to threats and promises, you're nobody compared to him."

"Exactly!" James and Sirius exchanged pleased looks. "Lily, you're a genius!"

"I've always told you—where would you be without me?" replied the flattered Mrs. Potter smugly.

Dumbledore was far from cheerful. A year of being dead, and people had stopped taking him seriously, even though he was the one who defeated Grindelwald. The British bogeyman, killed by a schoolboy, had gone to the other side without bringing Dumbledore any glory. After his grand resurrection, the leader of the Light got some media attention for three days, and then the newspapers moved on to other news—who was appointed where and who was now a big shot at the Ministry. Dumbledore wasn't appointed anywhere. No one interviewed him, he didn't smile benevolently and decline the Minister's chair, nor did he say that being Headmaster of Hogwarts, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and Supreme Mugwump was enough for him. But no one asked him anymore, as they had back in the day when he betrayed his friend and lover, Gellert. Now, none of the Ministry officials wanted to listen to him, except for Arthur Weasley, but Arthur didn't count.

If only the Boy-Who-Lived was nearby, with his innocent gaze and sincere smile... The modest boy would have pushed Dumbledore to the forefront, declaring to the world, "Look, here he is, the true hero, I just followed the wise counsel of my mentor." Then the story would have been more sensational, and the journalists would have seized on it. Dumbledore would have risen to the height of public acclaim, and Shacklebolt wouldn't have dared to throw him out of his office like a beggar.

But Harry was still scandalously overweight, and time was running out. In a month, the country would settle into its routine, and no one would care who the wise mentor of the Boy-Who-Lived was. There was nothing to be done; glory had slipped away, so money would have to suffice. Dumbledore had not built up Harry Potter's fame for nothing, always reminding people at every opportunity that all of Britain owed this boy. Surely, there were enough fools who would want to repay their debt, meaning that a sizable sum had accumulated in the hero's account. With that money, Dumbledore could buy himself another band of ragtag followers to stir up trouble for his fishing expeditions.

Alas, the finale of the saga turned out to be rushed. The backstage power was lost, and it would be necessary to restore the former influence, which meant the country needed a new enemy. And the sooner, the better, because Dumbledore was no longer at an age where he could spend decades preparing a scheme. The former Harry Potter was an unknown figure, making him a threat to Britain would take too long and be problematic, given the child's peaceful and unassuming nature. Besides, who knows what secrets might surface in the process, so it was better to leave the boy alone as long as he stayed quiet. A well-established enemy was needed, preferably one who had already been tried—a stone on the edge of a cliff that only needed a push.

It was during these musings that James Potter found him, coming to report that all the expected money had disappeared somewhere.