First Story.
Please R&R.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Be nice.
Two words: Nin-ja.
Title: Initium Academy
Time had almost literally stopped. Aristocratic features twisted in surprise and shock. A juvenile face desperate and frightened, contorted into one of defined horror. A weary countenance- deepening in resigned terror, already knowing one of the two would die. This was the pinnacle.
A moment of the highest importance. For this was the time Harry James Potter, Golden Boy and Boy-Who-Lived lost something that made him sympathize with Dumbledore and the Light. A reason.
What was the point of allowing himself to be manipulated if there was nothing to work for? Sirius' freedom... a family... a home.
He fell to his knees, almost absently noting that Bellatrix was silent. Maybe it was the shock that she had killed Sirius. Maybe it was because she had murdered family. Or maybe it was because of the raging vortex Harry's magic had become. The power, overwhelming, she turned and fled- her hurried footsteps followed by a rampaging Stag and a dispiriting Grim.
Her screams were heard throughout the Ministry as her body burned to ash, the Light Magic engulfing her core and destroying anything that darkened her soul... which was everything.
A chilling laugh escaped Harry then, one that made Remus want to jump up and hug the boy, made him want to comfort the child and say everything would be alright. That everything is alright. But he couldn't. He couldn't move even as Harry started to cry, broken sobs that made his heart break in pain.
And, as Harry fell into the abyss, he found himself wondering- Am I always to be alone?
"My dear boy!" Was what Harry woke up to, the jovial voice grating on his already fraying nerves. Happiness, how he loathed the feeling, especially when it was near him.
"I'm so happy you're awake!" There was that damnable word again, his mind seemed to sneer. "Why, it has hardly been a day, yet you are up and cognizant enough to answer me!" Why did this person have to express their happiness in such a way it made Harry want to up and slap him... in the face... with a chair.
And when did I answer him, was the thought as pretty green eyes opened. "Headmaster Dumbledore." Harry greeted politely, if a little hoarsely, his throat sore and scratchy. "Where..." He trailed off, taking in the familiar stark-white walls of Madam Pomfrey's territory... the Hospital Wing. A small groan escaped him.
Those blue eyes twinkled even more... if that was possible. "Yes. As it seems, you had collapsed in the Department of Mysteries." This didn't make him feel more of a wimp than he already was, no. Not at all. "I had convinced the Minister that you didn't need to be sent to St. Mungo, that you'd do fine in someplace familiar."
This caused Harry to sneer, mentally of course, as it seemed his face was in pain from just twitching. "Yeah." He said unenthusiastically, holding back the profanity he wanted to use instead. "So..." He started. "About that Prophecy." In an instant, Dumbledore's face melted into one of mock concern.
"Ah. So you heard it, did you?" The tone appeared to be downtrodden, something that was supposed to invoke pity in Harry's mind... too bad there wasn't much pity going around here at the moment. "Uh huh." He deadpanned. "I heard." The Headmaster sighed, his age catching up to him as the wrinkles grew more pronounced. The man seemed to have a way of him, making the whole world sad with him.
This almost made Harry cry- seeing someone so old in pain... yeah right.
"I apologize Harry." Those infernal crescent moon glasses were removed, blue eyes twinkling no longer... aww. It looks like the old man wanted maximum sympathy from The-Boy-Who-Would-Like-To-Kick-The-Other-Where-The -Sun-Don't-Shine. Fuck sympathy. "I hadn't wished for the burden of this knowledge to befall you." Big words, old man.
"I had thought you would do better with a normal family that cared for you, as you." Uh huh. And the Dursley's are such a great example of familial love. "But it appears I have failed in my quest." And what gave you that idea? "The Prophecy spoke of deeds that even I-" Circe, you are so bloody long winded! "-hadn't expected. But, as it happens, you are the only one who can save us." Those blue eyes looked so much like a kicked puppy, it made Harry want to do exactly that. Kick the puppy.
Oh yes. Put the fate of a hypocritical world on one boy's shoulder. So kind of you my dead Headmaster, was his thoughts, but he answered with an obedient, "Of course Professor." The glasses were replaced and the grandfatherly facade was back up. "Do well Harry." Was all he said as he left, leaving a fifteen year old boy to his grief... bastard.
Water encased his form then, the cool liquid roving over his injuries as if worried.
Master! Are you hurt?
Concerned and worried, his Familiar's voice echoed in his head as the water spirits' energy spilled over him in a hurried mess. "I'm fine Nicor." Harry murmured in amusement, enjoying Nicor's overreactions.
Master. You must at least try and avoid these problems.
"It's not my fault. Trouble finds me."
Why didn't you ask me about Black? I would have been able to find him.
"Nicor... desperation does things to people."
... Master, why aren't you speaking through our mind-link? You sound like a crazy person.
"Cause I don't-" Wanna.
Amusing. Very amusing.
"I'm not-" Trying- "To be-" Amusing.
Don't do that! Nicor very nearly whined. Harry could just imagine the spirit's round orbs glinting in something akin to a pout. It's hard to follow.
"Fine." ... I don't want to come back for Sixth Year.
I know Master.
Dumbles is a manipulative bastard.
Yes Master. He is.
He deserves to be high fived in the face.
Of course Master.
This earned an irritated sigh.
Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter,
It has come to our attention that you have neglected to show up for you heritage revealing session. As it was you, Mr. Potter, who had organized this meeting, please respond appropriately with your excuse and we will see what happens later.
Sign,
Foulrant
King Goblin
-Fuuuu-
Foulrant,
I was in the hospital. Please don't lecture me. I'll be there in an hour.
Harry Potter
Reluctant Boy-Who-Lived
Harry resisted the urge to flatten his unruly hair, not wanting anyone to recognize him. And, as arrogant as it sounded, he was very recognizable. This thought caused Nicor to laugh, the water spirit hidden in the frozen choker around Harry's neck. Master~ You are fun to be around.He cooed, tightening slightly to show his appreciation.
Harry replied with a reply that would make most sailors blush, then congratulate him on such inventive words.
Language Master- His Familiar purred, not put out by the scathing retort.
"Hmph. Whatever Nicor. Just keep a look out and make sure Dumbles doesn't find us."
But of course.
He entered Gringotts then, eyes wide as the brilliance astounded him once more. It seemed, like Hogwarts, the bank had a way to memorize people as well. Harry shook his head, not wanting to linger and headed towards the front desk. "Tawnhide." He greeted softly, enjoying the surprise that always came to the goblins when a human knew their name.
"Mr. Potter." Tawnhide greeted just as quiet, motioning for the boy to follow him, already knowing why he was here. "This way." He murmured, making his way through a double set door which opened with nary a sound. It was silent, the rest of the walk, but Harry hadn't expected anything different. No matter how much he tried, the goblins would never talk to him. No small talk... at all.
It was about ten minutes later they arrived at a cart, black in color and covered in runes that burned brightly in Harry's Magic Sight. What the- He was then escorted onto a carefully crafted chair that automatically buckled him in. "What-?" The air rushed out of his lungs as the cart went from 0 to 200 (Master, stop being so dramatic) in barely a second.
The speed made his blood race, it made his heart soar- and for one moment- he felt whole. A happy laugh erupted from his gut, a loud war whoop resounding through the dark tunnels of Gringotts. Unfortunately, as soon as the cart began, the ride ended a few seconds later, leaving a disappointed Harry and an amused Tawnhide.
"You are the only human I know that can stand riding on those things." The goblin commented, not a compliment, but a statement of fact. But then, with a sly smile that suited the creature far too much, he said, "Well. Human for now maybe."
Harry stuttered, face tinging pink in slight embarrassment for how did he know? All he received was a smirk for his troubles.
Where they stopped, Harry had no clue, all he did know was that it was very dark and something cold was touching his leg. He stopped the humiliatingly girlish squeal that wanted to escape and had to make do with stomping on the thing that decided to touch him. This whole interaction was very amusing for two of the three people in the room.
Master-
Shut up.
Again, he was faced with a double set door, but this one glowed in power. Multiple archaic runes were engraved in the wood as powerful enchantments gave the already secured door- a feeling of dread. Curious, and not in the least bit worried about his personal health, slim fingers skimmed the outer layer of the Magicked shield. It jumped at the contact, but did nothing else.
Tawnhide looked shocked, but as soon as green eyes snapped to him, it was masked with a face of indifference. "You know." He started conversationally. "Most people, when they touch wards this thick, they die horrible deaths." Harry chuckled humorlessly at that. "But you." Beady black eyes locked with green. "You did nothing. It was as if the wards have accepted you." The wrinkly face folded more in thought.
"You're kind of special... aren't you?" Was the last said as the doors opened.
In the room, behind a large mahogany desk, sat a small goblin dressed in a smart, black suit and tie, a large scar running down its left eye. "Harry Potter." The old thing greeted, putting down the papers he was reading, slim glasses removed from his face. His voice was a low growling sound, like a distant thunder. "Foulrant." Harry nodded, sat down, crossing one leg over the other.
"You must forgive me, Lord Potter, for allowing Dumbledore to know of your inheritance." Harry shook his head. "It's fine. He would have found out someway, at least, could you stall him as long as possible? Before he comes after me?" The creature gave his consent, dismissing Tawnhide with a flick of his finger. "But of course. It is the least I could do to our most wealthy client."
Harry's face wrinkled in confusion. "Wealthy? I know I'm wealthy because of the Potter Vaults, something Dumbledore tried to hide, but-" Foulrant cut him off. "Yes." He growled impatiently. "But." In a second a scroll like paper was being unrolled, the material obviously something old. "This." The goblin held the scroll higher. "Is your Godfathers' Will. If I have your permission..." Foulrant trailed off, hardened gaze on the Wizard.
Swallowing thickly, Harry nodded and stuttered an affirmative, feeling slightly comforted by Nicor- who tightened around his neck. The Goblin King cleared his throat and started to read.
I, Sirius Orion Black, of #12 Grimmauld Place revoke all former wills and testamentary depositions made by me and declare this to be my last will and testament.
I appoint Foulrant to be sole executor of this will.
To Remus Lupin I leave 200,000 galleons to use as you see fit. Provided that Remus Lupin get himself some new clothes asap.
To Albus (Too many damned middle names) Dumbledore I leave an unlimited amount of lemon drops. Provided that Albus Dumbledore resists the temptation to manipulate my godsons' life.
To the Weasley family I leave 150,000 galleons to use as you see fit. Provided that the Weasley family remains true to themselves and provided that the Weasley family is not a traitor in definition to Harry Potter's words.
To Ron Weasley I leave 1,000 galleons and legal ownership of the Chudley Cannons (When you are of age) to use as you see fit. Provided that Ron Weasley is not a traitor in definition to Harry Potter's words.
To Hermione Granger I leave 1,000 galleons and legal ownership to the Black library to use as you see fit. Provided that Hermione Granger is not a traitor in definition to Harry Potter's words.
To Harry Potter I leave all my real and personal property whatsoever and wheresoever. I also leave the Main Black Vault to Harry Potter, along with the Black Head Family position. Provided that Harry Potter continue to do what he does so well. Be himself.
Harry stemmed the flow of tears that so badly wanted to come out. "What does he mean Black Head?" He asked instead, voice thick with suppressed emotions. Foulrant gave him a look of approval, reaching in a drawer to his left for a silver encrusted box, imprinted on the top, a Grim.
"The Black Head has two seats in Wizengamot. They also receive emancipation as soon as the ring accepts you as Black Head. This comes with the Black Vault, that by itself puts you at the top of out clientele, but combined with the Potter Vault..." Foulrant shrugged, a surreal gesture that looked out of place with the small creature.
Harry was silent for a second, before straightening, Nicor warm against his throat. "A-alright." He decided with conviction. "How... How do I accept Black Head?"
So. Some of you might have questions. Ask away.
-Harry is not mourning that horribly over Sirius' death because Sirius, no matter what the relationship, was still a stranger.
-Do you want Ron+Hermione+Weasley Clan to be bashed upon?
-Should this be a harem story?
-Harry WILL NOT be paired up with anyone canon.
