Chapter Text
Becoming What You Pretend to Be
“Harry Potter!”
The whole hall erupted in furious whispers as Harry stared at Dumbledore in shock.
“Harry, go!” Hermione gave him a small shove in his back when Harry sat frozen at the table.
“But I didn’t put my name in,” Harry whispered urgently as he glared at Hermione.
“That doesn’t matter,” Hermione whispered back while Ron looked at Harry in utter betrayal. “You have to go!”
With feet that seemed to weigh a hundred pounds each, Harry shuffled towards the headmaster and the Goblet of Fire.
Dumbledore gave Harry a quick look before glancing at the Goblet again. The fire inside of it remained steadily burning.
“I didn’t put my name in,” Harry said loudly because he needed the headmaster to understand that. Hell, he needed everyone in the Great Hall to understand that.
“I didn’t think you did,” Dumbledore replied, still staring at the burning Goblet. “Harry, my boy, please state your name and say that you accept your participation in the TriWizard Tournament.”
“But I didn’t – “
“I know,” Dumbledore said, giving Harry a narrow-eyed look full of impatience. “I need you to say it regardless.”
“Fine.” Harry briefly gritted his teeth, chest burning with the unfairness of it all. “I, Harry James Potter, accept my participation in the TriWizard Tournament.”
The goblet remained burning.
“Oh dear,” Dumbledore said and then lots of things happened all at once. Snape was there in seconds, grabbing hold of Harry’s arm and hauling him off to Snape’s office in the dungeons.
“Sit down,” Snape all but snarled, shoving Harry towards the empty chair in front of his desk. “And don’t move an inch, Potter.” Snape disappeared through a side door to what Harry assumed was the Potions classroom.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled a few deep breaths. Apparently someone had added Harry’s name to the Goblet and now he had to participate in a dangerous tournament. But it also seemed that something had gone wrong in the process, but what it was exactly, Harry hadn’t a clue.
After what must be at least half an hour, Dumbledore joined them just as Snape returned with a steaming cup. “I’ve brewed a paternity potion, just in case.”
“Thank you, Severus, but let’s try some Veritaserum first,” Dumbledore said before sitting down in the empty chair beside Harry’s.
Snape’s face lit up as though Dumbledore had just expelled Harry then and there. “Right away.” Snape rummaged around in a cabinet to the right and produced a small vial with a clear potion inside. “Open your mouth, Potter.”
When Harry refused at first, Dumbledore gave him some gentle encouragement. “It won’t hurt you, I promise, dear boy.”
With a sigh, Harry opened his mouth while glaring at Snape, who ignored him and tipped three clear drops right onto Harry’s tongue. They were tasteless and Harry wondered what that potion was and what it would do. He’d never heard of it.
Dumbledore smiled and nodded at Harry. “Please state your name.”
Swallowing, Harry gave Dumbledore an incredulous look. He wanted to ask why on earth the headmaster would ask such a thing but instead what came out of his mouth was, “Harry James Potter.”
“When were you born?”
“July 31st, 1980.”
Dumbledore furrowed his brows while he stared into Harry’s eyes. “Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?”
“No.” Harry couldn’t have stopped himself from answering even if he wanted to. This potion made you tell the truth, that much was obvious. Not that Harry had anything to hide.
“Did you have someone else add your name to the Goblet of Fire?”
“No.”
“Did you interfere with the workings of the Goblet of Fire at all?”
“No.”
“Hm.” Dumbledore sat back and glanced up at Snape, who had watched the proceedings with sharp eyes and pursed lips. “This is the Harry who has attended Hogwarts for the last four years, I am sure of it.”
“Then it might be that he isn’t Harry Potter at all and never was,” Snape muttered, much to Harry’s shock.
Harry wanted to jump up and shout, but the truth potion kept him mellow and unable to speak unless asked a direct question.
Without ceremony, Snape grabbed Harry’s right hand, pricked his finger with a small knife and added seven drops of blood to the steaming goblet. He then tipped the goblet out over a waiting sheet of blank parchment.
“Perhaps the antidote for Harry,” Dumbledore suggested with a knowing look at Snape, who grumbled and pulled another vial out of the cabinet. “Drink it, Harry,” Dumbledore said with an encouraging smile. “It will cancel the effects of the Veritaserum.”
Harry downed the potion at once and within moments he was able to speak on his own again. “Headmaster, what is going on?”
Dumbledore released a deep sigh and seemed to age ten years right then and there. “Harry Potter’s name came out of the Goblet of Fire. When you accepted that nomination, the Goblet’s flames should have gone out.”
Harry gasped as he realized what that might mean. “So does that mean that I’m not Harry Potter?”
“We’re about to find out,” Dumbledore said, gesturing at the parchment where vague colours started appearing.
Right at the very bottom the name Gabriel Bowman appeared.
“Impossible,” Snape gasped while Dumbledore bowed his head and rubbed a trembling hand across his face.
Above Gabriel Bowman two other names appeared. Kenneth Bowman and Jessica Robbins. They were written in purple while Gabriel’s name was written in dark blue.
“He’s a muggleborn,” Snape said while staring down at Harry as though he’d never seen him before.
“What?” Harry gasped, feeling as though he couldn’t draw in enough breath into his lungs. He wanted to deny what he saw. He was Harry Potter. He’d always been Harry Potter. Whatever potion Snape had made was wrong, obviously. Snape had always had it out for Harry, after all. “This can’t be true.” Harry’s vision swam and black started encroaching from the edges until Harry was lost in darkness completely.
Harry woke up in the hospital wing with light streaming through the large windows.
“Good morning,” Dumbledore said from a chair to the right of Harry’s bed.
While he sat up in his bed, Harry remembered what had happened the previous day and he groaned while running a hand through his hair.
“Before I tell you what I’ve learned so far, I want to assure you that you have a place here at Hogwarts. You are a talented young wizard and you will continue to receive an education here for the next four years until you receive your NEWTs.”
Harry swallowed and stared at Dumbledore. He knew that whatever the headmaster was about to tell him wasn’t going to be good.
“Late last night I went to Godric’s Hollow and exhumed the bodies of James and Lily Potter,” Dumbledore said, much to Harry’s surprise. “After they died we never thought to examine them thoroughly,” Dumbledore explained. “But upon a thorough inspection we learned that they were in fact not the bodies of James and Lily at all.”
“What?” Harry asked in a very small voice.
“They were the transfigured bodies of two house-elves,” Dumbledore said with a sage nod.
“How is that possible.” Harry sat up and gave Dumbledore an urgent look. “So are they even dead at all?”
“I don’t know, my dear boy,” Dumbledore replied with a tired sigh. “Last night, Professor Snape went to find out more about Kenneth and Jessica Bowman.”
Your real parents, a voice said in the back of Harry’s head. Harry ignored it for now, not ready yet to acknowledge such a momentous change in his life.
“They are indeed muggles who ran afoul of some Death Eaters in 1981, about a month before Voldemort attacked the Potters.” Dumbledore lowered his gaze as though unable to meet Harry’s eyes. “James and Lily arrived first on the scene of this attack, that also targeted a family of half-bloods next door to the Bowmans. They never mentioned finding a living child at the Bowmans’ home, though.”
The implications of that were too much. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his hands. He could see it now. James and Lily Potter had used a couple of house-elves and one orphaned muggleborn baby to fool Voldemort while they themselves had run for the hills with the real Harry Potter.
“So they’re still alive?” Harry growled through clenched teeth. “James, Lily and the real Harry.”
“I am unsure,” Dumbledore said while looking at Harry in clear sympathy. “But if you accompany me to Gringotts I hope we can find out more. I have asked Dobby to fetch you a change of clothes and your Gringotts key.”
Madam Pomfrey insisted Harry eat a light breakfast first before taking a quick shower, but after that Dumbledore led them out of Hogwarts. Harry got to experience apparition for the first time, which was just as dreadful a way to travel as using a portkey.
“I want you to make a withdrawal,” Dumbledore said as they hurried through Diagon Alley towards the bank.
“How much?” Harry asked, voice tight and stomach churning with nerves. What was he going to do if he couldn’t enter his vault? Technically, he wasn’t even a Potter, even though the largest part of his mind still seemed mostly in denial about that.
“Fifty Galleons. Afterwards we’ll speak with the Potter account manager.”
Harry hadn’t even realized the Potters had an account manager, but he kept his mouth shut for now. The journey towards Harry’s vault was uneventful. Dumbledore insisted on inspecting Harry’s vault for himself and when he saw the amount of gold inside of it, he frowned.
“The Potters had a much bigger fortune than this,” Dumbledore mumbled while Harry gathered fifty golden coins and stuffed them in his money pouch. “They may have left you this so as not to arouse suspicion in case you survived the attack. Harry Potter wouldn’t end up penniless in the event of his parents’ demise.”
Harry’s hands trembled as he gathered the last of the Galleons.
Ten minutes later they were sitting in the office of a goblin called Steelclaw.
“Did James and Lily Potter leave a will at Gringotts?” Dumbledore asked pleasantly while Harry sat with hunched shoulders, eyes fixed on his own knees.
“They did,” Steelclaw said with a measured gaze.
“And was it ever activated?”
“It wasn’t.”
“Hm.” Dumbledore ran a hand down his long beard. “And to whom is vault 687 registered?”
Steelclaw glanced between Harry and Dumbledore a few times. “To whichever child held the key for it.”
“But not to Harry Potter?”
“No.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, Harry had trouble following along with the conversation and barely made out the rest of it.
“And what happened to the rest of the Potters’ fortune?”
Steelclaw’s grin was sharp. “I couldn’t say.”
Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, and then said, “I’d like to hire a goblin healer to examine this boy for any permanent transfiguration or blood glamours.”
“An examination will cost twenty Galleons,” Steelclaw said at once.
Much to Harry’s surprise, Dumbledore produced a small, golden key out of his own pocket and handed it to Steelclaw. “Please charge it to my account.”
Moments later an old, wrinkly goblin appeared and ran his hands all around Harry’s body numerous times before nodding to himself. “Several blood glamours, at least eleven.”
“Can they be removed?” Dumbledore asked with a polite smile.
“Yes, but that’s best done on the night of the full moon,” the goblin healer said.
“Two weeks from now.” Dumbledore looked at Harry and raised his eyebrows in a silent question.
“I don’t know,” Harry whispered because he really, truly had no idea what was happening.
“No need to make an appointment now,” the goblin healer said without any concern. “Send the boy here in the early evening if he wants them removed.”
“Very well.” Dumbledore slowly got to his feet and gestured at Harry to do the same. “Thank you.”
“Thanks,” Harry mumbled automatically, though he had no idea who he was thanking for what.
“Come,” Dumbledore said, gently steering Harry out of the office. “I do believe we deserve a strong cup of tea.”
McGonagall and Snape were waiting for them inside Dumbledore’s office, already sipping cups of tea from a huge tea set. Dumbledore poured Harry a cup while Harry sank down in a plush chair, not meeting anyone’s gaze.
“We have some decisions to make,” Dumbledore said after he himself was seated. “First, what do you want us to call you?” This was said not unkindly, but still with a resolute edge to it.
Harry blinked up at Dumbledore. “I’m not sure…I’ve always been just Harry.”
“You’ve never been Harry Potter, as it turns out,” Snape said with a bit of a sneer.
“Now, now, Severus,” Dumbledore said at once. “None of this is the boy’s fault. This is as much an unwelcome surprise to him as it is to us.”
“Might I make a suggestion,” McGonagall said, tilting her head as she gave Harry a look full of pity. “I suggest that the staff starts addressing you as Mr Gabriel Bowman from now on. But if your friends want to keep calling you Harry, that is between you and them, of course.”
“Yeah, okay,” Harry said, because that did seem like a reasonable solution. Though he had no idea how anyone was going to react to it. He didn’t think Ron and Hermione would care he wasn’t really Harry Potter. He wasn’t sure what Sirius was going to think, though. Sirius had seemed to all but worship James Potter, so who knows what he might say and do when learning Harry wasn’t really Harry at all.
“Do I still have to participate in the tournament?” Harry asked after he finished his tea.
“No, since your name was never entered,” Dumbledore said with a reassuring smile. “But the real Harry Potter, where ever he is, will have to compete or he’ll lose his magic.” Shaking his head, Dumbledore sat back in his chair. “That is one of the reasons why we can’t keep this quiet, Gabriel.”
Harry couldn’t stop the involuntary flinch at hearing that name.
Dumbledore politely ignored Harry’s reaction and continued his explanation. “We need to make it public that the real Harry Potter is in danger of losing his magic if he doesn’t appear at Hogwarts in time for the first task.”
“It would serve him right,” Snape muttered before taking a long sip of tea.
“No matter what vile things James and Lily ended up doing, Severus Snape,” McGonagall snarled with venom in her voice. “Their son had nothing to do with it. He was one year old when James and Lily decided to sacrifice an innocent child and fake their own deaths.”
A sob escaped Harry before he could stop it and he jumped up from his seat and ran out of Dumbledore’s office without a backwards glance. He rushed through the castle, ignoring the sparse few students he saw, and launched himself through the entrance door onto the wide lawns around the castle. He ran all the way to the far side of the lake, close to the Forbidden Forest and when he finally stopped, panting heavily, he whipped out his wand and sent a Bombarda at a nearby rock. Pieces of stone exploded around Harry and he didn’t even bother putting up a shield as they hit his chest and cut into his cheeks.
James and Lily Potter had utterly betrayed him. Used him as a sacrifice to save themselves and the real Harry Potter.
Harry blew up a patch of grass, sending clumps of dirt up in the air before they rained down around him.
James and Lily Potter had stolen him away. Yes, apparently his Muggle parents had been killed by Death Eaters, but what if he’d had other family left? Grandparents or aunts and uncles who would have wanted to take him in and raise him in a loving home.
No, instead Harry got stuck with the fucking Dursleys, who as it turned out weren’t even related to him.
And all because James and Lily Potter were a bunch of sick cowards and ultimately just as evil as the average Death Eater.
Harry aimed his wand at a young birch tree and crushed it until nothing but splinters remained.
And now Harry was a bloke called Gabriel Bowman, apparently, and Harry truly, honestly didn’t know how to feel about that. And he also didn’t even know what he really looked like because obviously under all the glamours he wasn’t going to look like the spitting image of James Potter with Lily’s eyes.
Right now there was a photo album sitting in Harry’s trunk full of baby pictures that weren’t even him. Ever since Hagrid had handed him that album, Harry had treasured it as a book full of memories of parents who had loved him so much they’d given their lives for him. But as it turned out, all this time Harry had been staring at the faces of his kidnappers who’d served him up to Voldemort as a convenient lamb for the slaughter.
With a scream, Harry slashed his wand to the side and cleanly cut the tops of a large patch of bramble bushes just inside the treeline.
Harry’s entire life had well and truly been turned upside down in ways that were difficult to comprehend but which hurt with the force of a million stinging hexes. Suddenly exhausted, Harry sank down onto one of the bigger boulders and buried his face in his hands, his chest heaving as he couldn’t hold back the sobs anymore.
“Harry?”
Glancing up, Harry saw Ron and Hermione standing behind him, looking at him in shock and concern. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed or how they’d even found him.
“Dumbledore pulled us out of Herbology,” Ron said as they both inched closer while looking down at Harry in obvious concern. “Said something bad had happened.”
Hermione cleared her throat. “He mentioned that James and Lily Potter weren’t your parents.”
Briefly squeezing his eyes shut, Harry shook his head. He made a vague gesture at some of the other boulders for his friends to sit down on. Then, with a rather large amount of clinical control, Harry summed up what had happened ever since Harry Potter’s name came out of the Goblet of Fire.
“What?” Ron stared at Harry with a face as white as milk.
Hermione’s eyes were shimmering with tears which she wiped at more than once. “Oh Harry, I’m so sorry this is happening.”
“And your real name is Gabriel Bowman?” Ron finally managed to say, still gaping at Harry. “And you were never Harry Potter in the first place? And no one knew?”
“James and Lily knew,” Harry growled, glaring down at the grass beneath his feet. “They stole me to save their own skin.”
“That is so horrible.” Hermione inhaled a deep, quivering breath. “I can’t believe anyone would do that.”
“I don’t even know what I really look like,” Harry said, some of the immediate rage draining out of him. He was just so exhausted from all the dramatic revelations he’d faced that day. “I might look like Crabbe or Goyle.”
Ron snorted with laughter for a moment before he clamped his mouth shut, quickly giving Harry an apologetic look.
“It doesn’t matter,” Hermione assured him, throwing Ron a dirty look. “You’re still our friend. You’re still the same boy who climbed on top of a troll to save me.”
“Yeah,” Ron added quickly. “You’re still the scrawny bloke I befriended on the train. Who your parents were has got nothing to do with that.”
“Thanks,” Harry managed to say around the sudden lump in his throat. “That means a lot.”
They spent another hour sitting beside the lake, speculating and giving assurances and wishing lots of bad things upon the Potter family. Harry spent the rest of the day in a daze, slowly but surely coming to terms with the fact that everything he thought about himself was a big fat lie.
It wasn’t until the next morning that the whole school found out thanks to a frontpage article in the Daily Prophet, thankfully not written by Rita Skeeter. It lay out the facts of what happened, including Harry’s real name and background. It was also made clear in the article that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement were very eager to have a word with James and Lily Potter concerning their criminal actions towards Gabriel Bowman.
Harry kept his head down and tried to eat some breakfast while the students around him discovered the truth about him.
“I’m so sorry,” Neville whispered to him, hands trembling as he held the newspaper. “What do you want us to call you.”
“Just Harry for now.” Shrugging, Harry managed a small smile. It was better than giving into the lump he felt forming in his throat. “Everything’s been a bit overwhelming.”
Fred and George came up behind Harry and thumped him on both shoulders. “We don’t care what your real name is, mate. You still saved our sister. We won’t forget that.”
Ginny was staring at Harry with a mixture of emotions clearly written on her face. There was shock and disbelief, but also pity and anger.
On their way to Charms, Draco Malfoy and his cronies cornered them. “So you’re not even a Potter, are you? Just another useless mudblood.”
Without hesitation, Harry slammed his fist in Malfoy’s face, savouring the crunch of Malfoy’s broken nose.
“No!” Hermione pulled Harry away while blood streamed down Malfoy’s thin lips and pointy chin. This gave Ron ample room to take a swing at Malfoy as well, punching him right in the eye and knocking him out cold.
Harry and Ron spent that evening scrubbing toilet floors under Filch’s watchful eye, both in complete agreement that an evening of detention was worth it for putting Malfoy in his place.
The next day some of the immediate shock amongst the students died down and Harry mostly received looks of sympathy or pity, which he studiously ignored.
Dumbledore summoned Harry to his office after classes ended.
“Ah, Gabriel,” Dumbledore said and this time Harry didn’t flinch at hearing his real name. “I have some good news to share.”
“I could use some good news, Sir,” Harry said with a tentative smile as he sat down in front of Dumbledore’s desk.
“I have visited your extended family today to explain to them what happened.”
Harry blinked in disbelief. He had family? Really?
Dumbledore offered him a warm smile. “You have two sets of grandparents, seven aunts and six uncles and fourteen cousins and all of them are very eager to meet you.”
Unable to control himself, Harry bowed his head, lips trembling and tears spilling over.
“They were so very happy to hear you are still alive, dear boy,” Dumbledore said, leaning forward a little. “I explained to them about the glamours and that perhaps it would be best to wait until they’re removed for a family reunion.”
“Yeah,” Harry said in a hoarse voice. He quickly cleared his throat. “I think I’d like to have everything removed and see what I really look like.” Every time he looked in the mirror these last two days had felt like a lie and made him more than a little uncomfortable.
“I’ll take you to see your family myself right after the ritual. I think you’ll also be happy to hear that they all offered to take you in for the summer.”
No more Dursleys. Harry had family who actually wanted him. “I can’t wait to meet them. Thank you, Professor,” Harry said with as much gratitude as he could muster.
“You’re welcome.” Dumbledore nodded while Fawkes thrilled in obvious happiness. For the first time since learning his true identity Harry felt hopeful again.
As he pushed himself up from his chair, Harry couldn’t help but ask, “Any word from the Potters yet?”
Dumbledore’s smile slipped right off his face while his eyes darkened in obvious anger. “No, not yet. You’ll be one of the first to know when they contact me, I promise.”
It was somehow comforting to see Dumbledore so obviously angry at what had been done to Harry.
Moody thumped up to Harry right as he left Dumbledore’s office. “You all right, lad?”
Harry shrugged, which was his standard response whenever someone asked him that question. He honestly didn’t know if he was all right or not. “Been better.”
“I’m sure you have,” Moody said with a gruff chuckle. His good eye crinkled while his magical eye spun around for a moment. “Still, must be nice to know you were never the Dark Lord’s intended target in the first place.”
“I suppose,” Harry said with a puzzled frown. He’d never known Harry Potter had been the intended target in the first place. And now it was hardly Harry’s concern anymore, because he wasn’t Harry Potter and never had been. “The best thing so far is learning I have family out there.”
“Muggles, right?”
“Yeah, but they’re still family that are eager to meet me. Never had that before.” With another shrug, Harry stepped around Moody and went in search of Ron and Hermione.
During breakfast the next morning, Harry received two letters. The first was from Mrs Weasley, assuring him that no matter what his name was, he was always welcome in their home. In fact, she emphasized that should he not have a place to stay for the summer he was more than welcome to come stay at the Burrow. Harry had to swallow a few times before he could open his second letter.
It was from Sirius, begging him to sneak out of Hogwarts that afternoon to meet him at a cave right outside of Hogsmeade. For a moment, Harry felt apprehensive about meeting Sirius, who wasn’t his godfather anymore. Then he figured that if Sirius didn’t want anything to do with him anymore he would hardly ask Harry to come spend time with him.
Harry showed Ron and Hermione the letter.
“Right, we’ll get some food from the kitchen and have ourselves a little picnic in a cave,” Ron said with a grin. Hermione rolled her eyes but ultimately didn’t object to the plan so that is what they did. The elves packed them a huge hamper with all sorts of sandwiches and cold cuts and little pies.
“Those cunts!” Sirius snarled the moment Harry and his friends entered the cave.
Hermione gasped and looked like she wanted to chastise Sirius’ vocabulary.
Sirius ignored her. “Those fucking cunts! Dumbledore said they’re alive and they still left me to rot in Azkaban for over a decade!”
It was at that moment that Harry realized he wasn’t the only one who’d been betrayed by James and Lily Potter. He’d been so caught up in his own rage and grief that he’d completely missed the misery others must be feeling.
“Harry. Gabriel. I swear to you I had no idea about any of this.” Sirius took a few steps closer to Harry, looking at him with pleading eyes.
“I know,” Harry said quickly. “I don’t blame you. Them, yes, but not you.”
Sirius managed a small, trembling smile. “Remus didn’t know either. He wanted me to tell you.”
“Thanks for letting me know.” Harry held up the hamper to Sirius. “Hungry?”
“Yes,” Ron answered at once. “We’re missing dinner for this, Black.”
“Well then, let’s eat,” Sirius produced a worn wand and conjured a table and chairs so they could have a proper meal together. Once all the food had been eaten, Sirius said, “Harry. Gabriel. You’re my godson now. Those cunts are dead to me. You saved me from a whole swarm of dementors while they left me to be driven mad by them.”
“I really liked having you as a godfather so that works for me,” Harry said honestly, which earned him a bark of laughter.
Things calmed down a little over the next week. Students still whispered from time to time when they saw Harry but most left him alone. Harry himself still suffered from sudden bouts of rage when he randomly remembered that the people he thought had been his parents were the ones to orchestrate his premature demise.
Before long the night of the full moon rolled around and with trepidation Harry followed Dumbledore out of the castle. He wanted to know what he really looked like but it was still a huge, stressful event, to literally change your entire face for the rest of your life.
“Sir,” Harry asked as they walked towards the gates. “How did I survive Voldemort’s attack that night?”
“Ah,” Dumbledore said as he glanced at Harry in obvious approval. “I have given that question some thought. I do believe that love is still the answer.”
Harry frowned as he mulled that over. “How? There was no loving mother telling Voldemort to kill her instead of me.”
“Do you really believe house-elves are incapable of compassion?” Dumbledore looked at Harry over his half-moon glasses as they reached the gate. “Do you find it difficult to believe that a house-elf, even one commanded by their owners to sacrifice themselves, would do everything in their power to save an innocent child?”
For some reason Harry’s cheeks heated up and he ducked his head. “That makes sense, I suppose. I’m sorry those elves had to die like that.”
Dumbledore gave Harry a nod and offered him his arm. “So am I, my boy. Now hold on and I’ll take us straight to Diagon Alley.”
The goblin healer was waiting for them and led them to a large chamber almost completely covered in runes. In the middle stood a stone slab, also inscribed with runes in all sizes. The healer gave Harry a potion that would make him sleep through the procedure, which could apparently be quite painful.
When Harry woke next, his entire body felt stiff and sore, as though he’d played a 24 hour Quidditch match while dodging rogue bludgers the entire time. “Did it work?” Harry rasped as he looked up at Dumbledore with bleary eyes.
“All blood glamours were removed,” the goblin healer said, wiping their hands on a towel. “I also removed that nasty bit of curse magic in your scar.”
“I beg your pardon?” Dumbledore said, staring at the goblin healer in shock. “You could remove it?”
“It took some doing, but I got it out. Such a vile thing had no business hijacking a wizard child.” The goblin healer gave them both a nod and then marched out of the room.
“What did that mean?” Harry asked as he pushed himself up carefully.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, looking as though he’d suddenly become ten years younger. “It appears the goblin healer was able to sever the link between you and Voldemort.”
“Oh.” Harry rubbed a hand over his face. “That’s a good thing, right?”
“That is indeed a very good thing.” Dumbledore conjured a mirror that he floated in front of Harry. “Now have a look at your own face, my boy.”
Harry looked completely different. His hair was a rich brown instead of a black and it lay flat. His eyes were brown as well and his skin had a slight olive hue. His jaw was a bit more square and his chin a bit more pronounced. His nose was a bit bigger as well but did not look out of place on his face. All in all, Harry no longer looked like a Potter at all, but as a normal bloke of average attractiveness, or so Harry believed. He wasn’t Tom Riddle levels of handsome, but he wasn’t anywhere near as unfortunate looking as Crabbe or Goyle either.
“Is it what you were hoping for?” Dumbledore asked as he vanished the mirror again.
“I wasn’t really hoping for anything in particular,” Harry said with a smile. “I’m just glad I can finally get to see who I really am.”
“You’re a fine looking young man, Gabriel. I can see a lot of resemblance with your maternal grandfather.” Dumbledore helped Harry to his feet and kept him steady while Harry took a moment to catch his breath. “I have arranged a meeting with your family for tomorrow evening.”
“Thanks,” Harry said, even though his stomach bunched up with nerves. He had a family who wanted him and he was going to meet them at last.