"Keep watching him," ordered the General.
The next, another female captain, said, "The information he's provided all checks out. There was a boy who lived at the address in Surrey. However, he disappeared at around the time the house, apparently, suffered what the local forensics report states was a 'gas main' explosion. However, the photos of the scene do not gel with that. Digging deeper we believe it to have been some sort of terrorist attack, possibly from a splinter group of the IRA. However, there's nothing to link the residents to that organisation.
"The occupants were a Vernon Patrick Dursley, his wife Petunia Heather Dursley née Evans, their son Dudley Vernon Dursley... and one Harry James Potter, reportedly the nephew of the wife. All four were reportedly killed in the explosion. However, the body of the Potter boy, supposedly sixteen at the time, was never found.
"Both boys attended the local Primary school as children, a Little Whinging Primary School. At eleven both boys were withdrawn from the school, with the Dursley boy sent to a private school called Smeltings College for Honoured Sons; the Potter boy, rumour has it, was sent to Saint Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys."
"What?" exclaimed the Psychologist Captain, who had given the immediately previous report. "That's nonsense! There's no such place!"
"I'm aware," the other flatly replied. "However, the Dursleys were known to have told all their neighbours that is where the boy was sent for nine months of the year since shortly after his eleventh birthday."
"The Dursleys lied," said the psychologist. "It also ties in with what our Mister Potter said to SG-1 about them while he was in the infirmary. They abused him; physically, emotionally and psychologically. It also explains why he displays that façade and 'wears' it as if it's completely normal for him to do so."
Getting things back on track, the general stared right at the last captain and asked, "Anything else, Captain?" "Yes, Sir," she replied. "While our Mister Potter did not attend some patently obvious fake school, I can find no record of him having attended any other school from the time he was eleven.
"Further, I've found records concerning his mother, Lily Primrose Potter née Evans, including her date and place of birth, and the primary school she attended with her sister in the industrial town of Cokeworth in Northern England. However, like her son, she was pulled from the public schooling system at aged eleven and there's no sign she attended another afterwards. Actually, there's no further sign of her in the government records, at all; except for a public Notice of Death related to the thirty-first of October, 1981.
"Today's the anniversary of his parent's death!?" exclaimed Daniel. "No wonder he hates Hallowe'en!" That had a few murmurs of sympathy and whispered conversation before the captain spoke over the top of them all, shutting them up. "I also have no record of his supposed father, James Fleamont Potter, anywhere in the government systems except his Notice of Death on the same day as his wife and as a registered holder of a significant share portfolio on the British Stock Exchange. With the security systems the Brits employ, that should not be possible; yet, it is.
"I've checked the systems thoroughly and our young Mister Potter is now recognised as the sole beneficiary of all those investments. In investments alone, he's quite wealthy. However, all my searching through the financial databases as to where the dividends flow all end at a bank called 'Gringotts'. However, no such bank apparently exists beyond that name."
"I'm sure it's a puzzle you'll be working hard to solve, Captain," said the general. "What I want to know is; does what our supposed Mister Potter tell us ring true?"
"Oh, yes-Sir," said the captain, coming out of her deep thoughts. She then slid a 5"x7" laser-copier printed photo up the table and said, "This is a copy of the only school photo ever taken of the Potter boy, back when he was ten years old."
When it was slid up the table to Hammond, he picked it up to have a look at it before he passed it to Jack. You could easily see the resemblance. All that was missing of the current Mister Potter was the aviator style glasses similar to what Daniel used to wear back in 1995 when they went to Abydos; and the scar on his forehead was no longer as... pronounced.
"That's him, alright," said Jack, passing the photo to Sam.
"He was a cute kid," murmured Sam.
"Bit skinny, though," said Jack Captain Janet Frasier scowled and said, "Not skinny; malnourished, Sir."
Jack nodded back in silent apology. "He's obviously recovered from it now, though."
Frasier nodded back. "Yes, Sir. Scars aside, he's quite fit and healthy... now. I'd say living on a 105% Earth-normal gravity planet for just over three years has helped with that."
"Who's next?" asked Hammond.
After what had felt like a two hour shower, Harry finally dragged himself out from under it. His skin was beginning to 'prune'.
On Hadrian, Harry's home 'Safe Haven' was not huge, but was a lot bigger than that original Flintstone-esque cottage he'd built for himself near the Chappa'ai - Stargate, as the Americans called it. Though it only ever had one bedroom, it also had a sitting room, a bathroom, a mock-kitchen, and a toilet. His water and drainage facilities had been as the result of magically digging a ten foot deep circular hole, transfiguring the dirt into concrete to line the sides of it, no bottom; then laying a huge slab over it. Then topping it with a further four foot thick layer of dirt to bring the top back to 'ground' level, before then building his house on top of that.
His draining from his toilet, sinks, hand basin, laundry trough and shower all travelled down through the floor, then through S-bends - he learned the need for the latter of those pretty quick - then into the unbottomed circular underground tank to drain away.
Water, together with water pressure, was done by building a thirty foot tall tower with a huge stone tank on top. That led to pipes into the house to the kitchen, laundry and bathroom taps and the toilet cistern he'd fashioned up for himself. Water pressure was as a result of gravity feed from the tank. The only annoyance for him was the occasional need to climb the tower and stand on a platform he'd built onto it, while then aiming his wand into the tank and massively overpowering an Aguamenti Charm to fill it. However, if he didn't do it often enough, he'd magically exhaust himself and sleep for two days afterwards.
Due to the near constant heat on the planet, he'd quickly figured out that if it had an axial tilt it was nowhere near as much as Earth's because of the lack of recognisable seasons, the water was always a little above lukewarm. The size of the tank meant it rarely dropped more than a few degrees overnight, which was why it was so big, unless it was starting to run low of water.
The lack of proper seasons was also one of the reasons he believed he'd lost track of time for how long it had been he'd been on the planet. However, he was wrong about that. While Earth had a one day rotation around its own axis and a one year orbit around the sun, the same was not true for Hadrian. Comparative to Earth, Hadrian had a twenty five and a half hour day and it took fourteen Earth months for the planet to orbit its sun, Sirius A.
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