Two for One

Chapter 3: A Team Effort

"But still," Harry says, flipping through the files until he can find the birth certificate. "No one would pick the name Hoe McFucker."

The Unspeakable shrugs. "It is fun to say though. We also have idiots who want names that can be expressly connected to their actual identity, which is the exact opposite of what a fake name should be. Seriously, some just take their mother's maiden name, it's ridiculous." They wave a hand at the folder Harry is holding. "Anyway, we pick the most normal names we can think of."

Harry just stares down at the birth certificate.

"We can change the date of birth to fit you better," the Unspeakable adds on. "Is there anything inside that you have a particular dislike for?"

Harry purses his lips. "My new name is... Harry Potter."

"Yep," the Unspeakable says cheerfully. "I know like sixteen Harrys and eight Potters, no one is going to look at you twice."

"My..." Harry pauses, unsure if he should actually reveal the information. "My, uh, real name is..."

"Oh," the Unspeakable says slowly in realisation and then shrugs. "Well I guess it was bound to happen sometime. Here, I'll get another one."

They duck under the table and Harry hears footsteps and a door opening.

"Shit, wait, it's upstairs," the Unspeakable mutters.

Harry hears more footsteps that get fainter. He can't resist and leans over the desk to peek, finding an open drawer that leads down to a very messy library. He quickly straightens up when the footsteps get louder.

The Unspeakable pops back up and passes over another folder, accepting the Harry Potter one and calmly burning it. "How's this one?"

Harry takes a deep breath. "Are you doing this deliberately? Because I can't be Thomas Riddle either."

The Unspeakable doesn't move but Harry physically feels the bitch face behind the blurring spells on the other person. "Are you serious?" the Unspeakable complains. "What, is Thomas Riddle your cousin? Is there like a self-help group for people with disgustingly common names?"

"Oi," Harry snaps. "I bet your name isn't much better."

"My name is badass, thank you very much." The Unspeakable lets out an annoyed sigh. "Fine, let's make you one." They reach over and snatch the folder back. "You can keep your first name, give me an age, I'm picking your parents."

Harry shrugs, unsure. "Twenty."

"Don't make it too easy for me," the Ministry worker drawls and gropes around a drawer for a quill before hunching back over the paper. "You're now twenty-three, your dad is James-"

"Um-"

"For Merlin's sake," the Unspeakable cries and vanishes the ink with an irritated flick of their wand. "Dad is Jake, mum is Alessia, you're Harry Corvidae, twenty-three, a pain in my ass."

"Is there a place to write 'Master of Death'?" Harry snarks.

The Unspeakable scoffs. "Yeah, and I'll just change mine to say Master of Sea Shells."

Harry rolls his eyes.

"There," the Unspeakable sighs in relief. They make a copy to keep with the Ministry and pass over the original birth certificate. "Now, living arrangements are inside the folder as well, plus a key to a private vault in Gringotts. Don't go crazy with the spending, okay? There's a budget I need to adhere to."

Harry smiles. "Wow, um, I really thought I would have a more difficult time of things. Thank y-"

"Don't bother," the Unspeakable interrupts. "I'm only doing this so I can keep an eye on you. Random house visits every week and we track your spending." The hooded figure spreads their arms wide, invitingly. "I own you."

Harry blinks, taken aback.

"Also, you're obliged to come in whenever we need you, to do some tests." The Unspeakable shrugs. "You can do pretty much anything you want though, so it's not all bad."

"...Anything?" Harry says slowly.

"Anything. You are above the law. You are technically considered property of the Unspeakables so if you get into shit we deal with the consequences."

"That sounds a bit lackadaisical..." Harry begins. "I mean, I'm liking it, but it's also not the best way to go about things."

"There's something you should know," the Unspeakable admits. "I don't give a fuck about anything except for my research. As long as you come in and do whatever I want you to, you can raise a Dark Lord for all I care."

"Is that a figure of speech?" Harry asks hesitantly.

The Unspeakable pauses, incredulous. "Why would I mean that literally? Who would ever consider that a good idea? Anyone not on drugs, I should add. I mean you could, but... but why?"

Harry laughs nervously. "Yeah, that – that would be stupid."

The Unspeakable sighs heavily. "You're going to be a difficult one, aren't you?"

Harry steps into the pre-selected house and peers around. It's a three bedroom with a nice kitchen and the bare necessities of furniture are already set up. It's really good for a house in nineteen-thirty.

"Nice," Harry murmurs and turns to take it all in. He bumps into a surprise-Death instead and barely stifles a curse as he jumps back, dropping the thick book of rules and the folder that the Unspeakable gave him.

Death, currently three meters tall, looms over Harry with his cloak of shadows, glowing red eyes and sharp, sharp teeth.

"Why?!" Harry screams, flailing his arms. "Why is this necessary? Don't you have anything better to do?"

Death shrugs.

Harry facepalms and then calms himself with a few deep breaths. He peers up at Death and crosses his arms. "So, Death, do you know how we're going to go about this?"

"We?" Death asks sceptically.

"It's a team effort," Harry explains jokingly.

"It's really not."

"..."

"..."

Harry sighs.