Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Alfred A History
Harry thought long and hard about his first paycheck. Now was the time to decide the rest of his life. Gringotts didn’t cash muggle checks, and it would be a lot of work to cash at a muggle bank and then transfer to Gringotts only to have to convert it back to pounds when he needed them. Quite the bother over one little pay stub. At the same time, Harry could hardly bear to let go of the only home he had ever known. Still, Harry had been missing for two weeks and not one of his friends had even tried to contact him.
Harry certainly didn’t want to sound bitter, but he felt that after defeating Voldemort he should finally be able to spend time with those he loved with out the pressure of an all out war breathing down their necks. No letters. The last time this had happened, a house elf had been responsible. Even his fifth year, he at least got empty letters letting him know his friends were alive. Yet somehow, Harry had the feeling that Dobby was not involved.
‘Maybe they don’t really care how you are doing, you served your purpose after all,” Harry shook himself to rid his head of that nasty voice. What was wrong with him? First suspecting the Weasleys of less than honorable behavior, and now all but accusing his friends of using him?
Harry sighed and made up his mind. Walking the short way to the local bank Harry’s appearance changed. He was suddenly a little bit taller and his hair was brown and neat, like Lupin’s. Harry allowed himself a neat mustache to complete the sophisticated look. The paper in his hand was shortly made into an ID giving Harry four more years of life and the name Alfred Pennyworth. Getting mixed up in something just for his name wasn’t high on his priority list, and changing his age would put him out of any searches for ‘Harry Potter.’
The building was cool and dark, with nice furniture and a quiet atmosphere. Harry waited for service in the roped off line, only to be sent to one of the desks to open an account. The woman who helped him was friendly looking, and her name tag dubbed her Emily.
“Now, do you have an existing account?” She asked politely.
“No, er, I just used my parent’s until now.” Harry said hesitantly.
“Well, all your paperwork seems to be in order.” She admitted.
“Is it… Would it be possible for my account to be shared between two people?” Harry remembered that his paycheck would be coming under two names.
“I suppose that would be fine, couples do it all the time. Are you soon to be engaged?” She looked a little hesitant.
“NO! I mean, no. I um, I have a friend who is still underage. I just wondered if we could share since he is abroad and can’t really apply for a shared account when his parents don’t live here.” Harry was flying by the seat of his pants with this story.
“Well, you aren’t related but… hmm. I suppose if your friend got a written letter of recommendation from his parents allowing for you to guard his moneys.” She thought about this, “Also, he wouldn’t be able to withdraw anything without you present. Its not that we don’t trust him,” she said quickly, “that’s just standard procedure with underage patrons.”
Harry tried to keep a straight face. This was perfect!
Emily passed him a bundle of paperwork. “You need to sign these, and get your young friend to sign them. Then have his parents fax these to us, or just have them send them with the post.” As she spoke she pointed to various lines where little Xs denoted the need for signatures.
“Thank you!” Harry said sincerely and shook her hand in a business deal.
Harry walked out of the bank on top of the world. He was taking charge of his life! More than just a job, he would soon have a place in the world.
HPHPHPHPHPAAHHPHPHPHP
It took the next two weeks to get his affairs in order. For the most part, the letter from his other self’s “parents” was by far the hardest thing about the situation. He wondered if he could eventually just dump his Harry Potter persona. It had been a month without contact with friends and Hogwarts started today. He figured that if no one he cared about was looking for him, there was no sense in putting himself in danger just to allow ex-deatheaters to find him.
He would eventually want to live a little, and he by far preferred his job in the kitchens to his cleaning job. Nasty chemicals were not nearly as nice as food. Even his appearance as Alfred, neat and orderly, got him more respect and less trouble from his co-workers.
As he made his way to the bank again, Harry decided to give his duel personas, and his friends, one more month.
Emily was at her desk again when Harry showed up. She smiled up at him, and he sat down to wait for her to end her telephone conversation.
“No, your credit doesn’t cover a loan for ten thousand! What do you even want that for any way? … I don’t think an elephant is a very good investment. No, why don’t you talk to your wife about your plans before you try to get a loan. … Very well, you take care now… Good bye.” She shook her head a little while resting the phone in its cradle.
Swiveling in her seat, Emily began, “I just got a letter from the Potters yesterday, so I was expecting you. Do you have all the paperwork?”
Harry passed her the packet and smoothed his mustache a bit smugly. He was positively giddy to have his own account. He watched as she skillfully entered all the paperwork and printed out a little card with his account number on it. Grasping it in his hand, Harry felt the surge of freedom that had been coming on gradually for the past month flow over him in full force. Harry once again thanked Emily for all her help and walked over to the roped off line. He was depositing his first check!
HPHPHPHPHPHAAHHPHPHP
Harry wasn’t brought down from his euphoria until four o’clock when he signed into the kitchen to begin his job.
“Alfred!” was shouted over the noise of the cooks and helpers. Harry was, by now, used to his second name and answered.
“Yes?”
“I think its time you got out of the kitchen and started serving. You are wasted as a potato peeler.” Harry’s innate grace had not gone unnoticed by the under-chef.
“Like room service?” Harry winced a little at the idea. There were all sorts of horror stories about what could happen when bringing food to people in their rooms.
“Not at all!” The under-chef reassured him. The man, called Gunther, continued, “No, we need waiters for the VIP dinning room.” Guests with money wouldn’t put up with the buffets that the other guests were forced to use.
“Oh, um well, uh, why me?” Harry stuttered.
“The French guy quit, lousy foreigner, and we are short a waiter. You are pretty efficient and inoffensive. After all, we couldn’t serve the money-bags with someone like Skyler, now could be?” Harry had to laugh at this; Skyler was about as offensive as you could be, with his dyed hair and many piercings. Harry had actually tailored the look of Alfred to be seen as little as possible. He still hated it when people stared at him.
“I guess I could do that.”
“Jolly good, my boy! Now, let’s get to work!”
Harry certainly didn’t want to sound bitter, but he felt that after defeating Voldemort he should finally be able to spend time with those he loved with out the pressure of an all out war breathing down their necks. No letters. The last time this had happened, a house elf had been responsible. Even his fifth year, he at least got empty letters letting him know his friends were alive. Yet somehow, Harry had the feeling that Dobby was not involved.
‘Maybe they don’t really care how you are doing, you served your purpose after all,” Harry shook himself to rid his head of that nasty voice. What was wrong with him? First suspecting the Weasleys of less than honorable behavior, and now all but accusing his friends of using him?
Harry sighed and made up his mind. Walking the short way to the local bank Harry’s appearance changed. He was suddenly a little bit taller and his hair was brown and neat, like Lupin’s. Harry allowed himself a neat mustache to complete the sophisticated look. The paper in his hand was shortly made into an ID giving Harry four more years of life and the name Alfred Pennyworth. Getting mixed up in something just for his name wasn’t high on his priority list, and changing his age would put him out of any searches for ‘Harry Potter.’
The building was cool and dark, with nice furniture and a quiet atmosphere. Harry waited for service in the roped off line, only to be sent to one of the desks to open an account. The woman who helped him was friendly looking, and her name tag dubbed her Emily.
“Now, do you have an existing account?” She asked politely.
“No, er, I just used my parent’s until now.” Harry said hesitantly.
“Well, all your paperwork seems to be in order.” She admitted.
“Is it… Would it be possible for my account to be shared between two people?” Harry remembered that his paycheck would be coming under two names.
“I suppose that would be fine, couples do it all the time. Are you soon to be engaged?” She looked a little hesitant.
“NO! I mean, no. I um, I have a friend who is still underage. I just wondered if we could share since he is abroad and can’t really apply for a shared account when his parents don’t live here.” Harry was flying by the seat of his pants with this story.
“Well, you aren’t related but… hmm. I suppose if your friend got a written letter of recommendation from his parents allowing for you to guard his moneys.” She thought about this, “Also, he wouldn’t be able to withdraw anything without you present. Its not that we don’t trust him,” she said quickly, “that’s just standard procedure with underage patrons.”
Harry tried to keep a straight face. This was perfect!
Emily passed him a bundle of paperwork. “You need to sign these, and get your young friend to sign them. Then have his parents fax these to us, or just have them send them with the post.” As she spoke she pointed to various lines where little Xs denoted the need for signatures.
“Thank you!” Harry said sincerely and shook her hand in a business deal.
Harry walked out of the bank on top of the world. He was taking charge of his life! More than just a job, he would soon have a place in the world.
HPHPHPHPHPAAHHPHPHPHP
It took the next two weeks to get his affairs in order. For the most part, the letter from his other self’s “parents” was by far the hardest thing about the situation. He wondered if he could eventually just dump his Harry Potter persona. It had been a month without contact with friends and Hogwarts started today. He figured that if no one he cared about was looking for him, there was no sense in putting himself in danger just to allow ex-deatheaters to find him.
He would eventually want to live a little, and he by far preferred his job in the kitchens to his cleaning job. Nasty chemicals were not nearly as nice as food. Even his appearance as Alfred, neat and orderly, got him more respect and less trouble from his co-workers.
As he made his way to the bank again, Harry decided to give his duel personas, and his friends, one more month.
Emily was at her desk again when Harry showed up. She smiled up at him, and he sat down to wait for her to end her telephone conversation.
“No, your credit doesn’t cover a loan for ten thousand! What do you even want that for any way? … I don’t think an elephant is a very good investment. No, why don’t you talk to your wife about your plans before you try to get a loan. … Very well, you take care now… Good bye.” She shook her head a little while resting the phone in its cradle.
Swiveling in her seat, Emily began, “I just got a letter from the Potters yesterday, so I was expecting you. Do you have all the paperwork?”
Harry passed her the packet and smoothed his mustache a bit smugly. He was positively giddy to have his own account. He watched as she skillfully entered all the paperwork and printed out a little card with his account number on it. Grasping it in his hand, Harry felt the surge of freedom that had been coming on gradually for the past month flow over him in full force. Harry once again thanked Emily for all her help and walked over to the roped off line. He was depositing his first check!
HPHPHPHPHPHAAHHPHPHP
Harry wasn’t brought down from his euphoria until four o’clock when he signed into the kitchen to begin his job.
“Alfred!” was shouted over the noise of the cooks and helpers. Harry was, by now, used to his second name and answered.
“Yes?”
“I think its time you got out of the kitchen and started serving. You are wasted as a potato peeler.” Harry’s innate grace had not gone unnoticed by the under-chef.
“Like room service?” Harry winced a little at the idea. There were all sorts of horror stories about what could happen when bringing food to people in their rooms.
“Not at all!” The under-chef reassured him. The man, called Gunther, continued, “No, we need waiters for the VIP dinning room.” Guests with money wouldn’t put up with the buffets that the other guests were forced to use.
“Oh, um well, uh, why me?” Harry stuttered.
“The French guy quit, lousy foreigner, and we are short a waiter. You are pretty efficient and inoffensive. After all, we couldn’t serve the money-bags with someone like Skyler, now could be?” Harry had to laugh at this; Skyler was about as offensive as you could be, with his dyed hair and many piercings. Harry had actually tailored the look of Alfred to be seen as little as possible. He still hated it when people stared at him.
“I guess I could do that.”
“Jolly good, my boy! Now, let’s get to work!”
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