Phoenix Delphinium Aurelius Ruth Bagshot

You Can Call Me Phiri

"Phoenix Delphinium Aurelius Ruth Bagshot," said the goblin, peering down at me with a gentle curiosity.

"That's my name," I said, peering back up at him with a rather similar expression. "Though, if you'd like, you can call me Phiri."

The goblin continued to eye me for a moment. "Well, Miss- Mr?- ahem, esteemed patron, do you have the key to your vault?"

"I do," I said, pulling it out of my pocket and setting it on the desk.

The goblin lifted the key and eyed it in silence. "Very well, esteemed patron. Come with me, please."

I followed the goblin through the bank- ever an enjoyable experience. We stopped in front of the vault that Dad had opened just for me- it had been enchanted to have access to everything in his family vault, as well as my father's. My other father.

Okay, for clarity's sake-

The guy I lived with, I called him 'Dad'. He did father me.

The other person who fathered me- magic is glorious- is the one I refer to as 'my father'. I'll never call Dad 'my father', and I only call my father 'Dad' to his face, and, you know, in that case the context will be fairly obvious. So, just to get things sorted- I have my Dad and my father, and Dad is the one I live with, and through magic they both fathered me together, alone.

Anyway.

I gathered one of the seven pre-sorted satchels I had made for each year- I was heading into my third year, meaning of course that two of the bags were already gone, so I suppose you could say I grabbed one of the five remaining pre-sorted satchels.

There would have been a better way to word that, but I don't feel like going back and fixing it and I like the chaotic vibe.

"Thank you kindly, good sir," I said as I backed out of the vault. The goblin nodded and closed the vault, and then, we headed back up. I bid him adieu and went about my day.

I was freshly thirteen, and as such, Dad had granted me further freedom- just a bit. Of course, Dad was... An unconventional man, and I'd always had a fair bit of freedom, but as I wandered around Diagon Alley alone, I felt uniquely untethered, entirely unbound by familial duty. I did not need to perform the grand performance of a darling child; I could be a fly on the wall- or, rather, cobblestone- entirely without notice from anyone around me.

People recognized my dad. People recognized me, too, sometimes, though not very often when I was alone.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was a great, renowned wizard. His child was a scholar in school and a wix that showed great potential- but I was still merely a child. I had done nothing of note; my past two years at Hogwarts would have been of great note, if it weren't for the greatness that my dad had done in his own first two years. I did not mind living in his shadow though- it was a vast, great shadow, and I could accomplish much of what I wanted while remaining blissfully under-considered, spared from the bondage of publicity.

Better to be underestimated and come out great than to be overestimated and come out a fool- or, as the looming return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named inched ever-closer- much, much worse.

This year would be different, though how, I knew not. This year, the famed Harry Potter would return to the magical world, and begin Hogwarts.

Dad had given me a series of tasks to complete. I knew he meant to shape the route that Harry Potter would take, and I knew he meant for me to be a rather useful tool in that particular goal.

I was to befriend Harry Potter. I was to assess and analyze the decisions and opinions that he had formed regarding the happenstance that would occur around You-Know-Who and the philosopher's stone. I was to take careful note of the discoveries he made and how he came to them.