Chapter 1
In Which the Harry Potter Inspects His Accounts and Learns Something Unexpected
Harry Potter sat somewhat uncomfortably in the goblin's office. His chair was almost too small for a human to wedge into. Goblins weren't much for other people's comfort, and so had designed their offices to accommodate goblins. Luckily, thanks to years of malnutrition, Harry was quite a small human, even at the age of thirteen.
"Er…really, um…sir?" The goblin had introduced himself, but his name had sounded a bit like gurgling rocks. "I'm not really sure why you dragged me in here? I only came to withdraw a few…"
"Responsible adults," the goblin interrupted sternly, "Are in the habit of reviewing their accounts. Setting up stocks and bonds. Check books. Credit. At the very least, they request monthly bank statements to keep track of their own vaults' contents."
Harry Potter shrunk back in his chair, as much as the tiny bony furniture allowed for further shrinking. How does anyone answer such a statement? 'No, sir, I'd rather continue to act like an irresponsible kid, thanks. Can I go to my vault now and do what I always do; guess how much I need and hope the money lasts through graduation?' So Harry did not say this. He just thought it very loudly.
"Now," the goblin, continued, pulling open a folder. "Let's start with your basic holdings and entitlements." Then he took out a knife.
"Um…" Harry said. He wondered if he shouldn't be running for the door. The goblin handed the knife to Harry. Then he slid the paper across the table and waited. Impatiently.
"Um…" Harry said again, staring at the paper and holding the knife.
"Well go on!" the goblin said. "Prick your finger! You need blood to unlock your folder!"
"What? No!" Harry dropped the knife.
"For Gredkrjenek's sake!" the goblin growled, and before Harry quite knew what he was doing, the goblin had grabbed Harry's hand, and the knife, and stabbed him.
"Ow!" Harry howled, more in surprise than anything. For being stabbed, the knife wound turned out to be no worse than if the goblin had used a pin for the same purpose. Three tiny drops of blood welled up and fell onto the document before Harry managed to wrestle his hand away and stick his finger in his mouth. The boy and the goblin glared at each other.
After a moment, the goblin pulled the blood stained document back to him. The blood had soaked into the paper and was in the process of turning into words. The goblin peered at the paper with some fascination.
"According to our records, you are a direct decedent of Godric Gryffindor!"
"Really? Wow…that's…"
"And Salazar Slytherin."
"Er…well, I suppose…"
"And also the lines of Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Merlin –hold on, this could take a while- BlackMalfoyBonesWeasleyGandalfPrinceDiggeryAbbotDumbledoreOzNottParkinsonLovegood…"
It did take a while. As far as Harry could tell, he was a 'direct decedent' of every wizard family in existence. The goblin read out the list all in one long breath. His face was a bit blue towards the end.
"and, of course, Potter." Harry gave the goblin some time to catch his breath while he contemplated this new information.
"Right," he said, when the goblin stopped looking so blue. "So does this mean…I don't know…did I inherit anything from them? Titles? Vaults? Properties? Cool magical abilities?"
"Oh yes, of course," the goblin said, his voice mocking and sarcastic. Not unlike Snape, but with sharper teeth and less style. "All these wizarding families that have existed for millennia never had any ancestors who thought to stop by the goblins and find out if any ancient properties just happened to be lying around for the claiming."
"There's no need to be rude," Harry mumbled. "You did say I was a direct decedent of all those people."
"You, and just about every other witch or wizard who comes in here. Wizards really are a very inbred race."
"Ew." Harry thought about this a moment longer. "Well, that explains a lot."
"Indeed," the goblin said with a malicious grin.
"So…does that mean I don't get anything? I mean, except my family vault…that I already knew about, so…what's this meeting for again?"
"Hmm..." the goblin answered, staring down at the document in front of him. "You want a title, do you? Let's see if they've all been claimed already…"
"You just said that they had been. You said it was stupid to think otherwise."
"I also said that wizards are stupid. Aha! There is a title you can claim! It seems no one else has bothered with it."
"Is it Potter?" Harry asked. "Was my father a lord or something?"
"What? No. The Potters were all self-made."
"Really? Well actually, that kind of sounds better. I mean, I'd hate to call myself important just because my family happens to …"
"You can, however, claim the title Lord Bogwater."
"…Whatever. Look, I really just want to go to my vault…" Harry tried to stand up, so as to move the meeting along. It didn't quite work. He had managed to get wedged between the armrests.
The goblin, completely ignoring him, pressed a claw into the paper. It glowed a sickly green for a moment. Something went 'ping' above Harry and something small and hard dropped on his head. It rolled off and he managed to catch it with his super Seeker reflexes.
"There," said the goblin. "You have been accepted as Lord Bogwater. Congratulations."
"What? But I didn't…"
"It even comes with property attached."
"…" Harry stopped trying to wrench himself out of the seat. "What kind of property."
"It says here, 'Bogwater Estate' I believe it to be located in a swamp."
Harry considered this. Well, it still beat living with the Dursleys, didn't it?
"Your new ring should have a portkey spell attached. Simply put it on, tap it with your wand, and say 'Bogwater Estate'. That's the usual method."
"What ring?" Harry demanded.
"…the one you now hold in your hand." The goblin was giving him that look again, the one that said he thought Harry particularly stupid. He decided not to ask what a portkey spell was. Instead, Harry looked down at the thing he had caught that had fallen on his head. It was a ring. It was a dull iron color, a bit chunky, and without any jewels. A bit reluctantly, he slid it onto his thumb for safekeeping, his thumb being the only finger big enough for it not to slide off again. It felt a bit like having his thumb in a cast. A heavy, cold, metallic cast.
"Now," the goblin said, before Harry could consider trying it out and travelling to his new estate. "Lord Bogwater…"
"I prefer Harry, actually."
"…Lord Bogwater. Let's move on to the next document, shall we?" Before Harry could protest sitting and listening to even more documents, the goblin had slid out more papers. Thankfully, these already seemed to have writing and the goblin did not reach for a knife.
"The last will and testament of Lily and James Potter," the goblin read. Harry blinked. He had never thought about his parents having a will. He supposed that this one more connection to his past was something he really should stay and listen to.
He was wrong. He was very wrong. It wasn't like getting an unexpected letter from his parents. It was like getting an unexpected very very boring document from his parents. It used very boring legal words that a lawyer might enjoy but that Harry didn't. He found his mind wandering. To questions. Like…why is a copy of his parent's will kept by a bank? Are goblins also lawyers?
"And that brings us to the matter of our son, Harry James Potter," the goblin droned on. The gist of what Harry understood so far was that Harry inherited most everything his parents owned, except for bits they gave to friends. And it said who Harry was supposed to go to if they both died. Harry did start listening more properly at this point.
"…and under no circumstances shall our son be placed with Petunia Dursley, ne Evans, the sister of the first deceased, or her family…"
"Hold on! I was put with her! Them! The Dursleys! You mean, I wasn't meant to…"
"Ahem," the goblin growled, actually growled, at the interruption. Harry stopped talking.
"…unless exception 5A from part 3, paragraph 2 occurred, in which case our son must be placed with Petunia Dursley, ne Evans, the sister of the first deceased. If the aforementioned…"
"Wait, so what's that exception then?"
The goblin gave him a look, but he did dutifully go back to the mentioned paragraph. It had been read already while Harry had been zoned out.
"Should either deceased die under the circumstances of sacrifice in the protection of their son, resulting in their son living when he otherwise should have died…"
And Harry stopped listening again. It was rather depressing really. His own parents had condemned him to the Dursleys, even if it was to protect him. The reading took forever. The end result seemed to be that Harry had received his single vault, which he already knew, and was stuck with the Dursleys.
"Yes," Harry said, when the goblin finally seemed to be finished. Harry finally and forcibly jerked himself out of the chair. "Thank you. Now, can I…"
"Next document," the goblin said, giving him a stern look. Harry crossed his arms. He refused to sit back down. "Bank statements."
"I really don't care about…"
"Withdrawals from the Potter Account, enacted 5 November, 1981 by Albus Dumbledore:
To the account of Hogwarts-5,000 galleons
To the account of Arthur Weasley-1,000 galleons…"
"Wait…Dumbledore took money out of my account? Why would…I mean, he wouldn't steal…"
"If you had listened to the will reading," the goblin said, in an annoyed manner, "You would know that Albus Dumbledore was in charge of carrying our your parent's wishes. This included sums of money to various parties."
"Oh. Right. Go on." The goblin did. There were several withdrawals on that date by Dumbledore to various people. Then there was no activity whatsoever until Harry's first year of Hogwarts, when Harry took money out of his vault. Harry listened to all the numbers involved, and felt his brain glaze over. His legs began to grow tired. He refused to sit down. He didn't quite make up his mind to just leave.
"And that brings us to the final document," the goblin finally said. Harry's words came out somewhat jumbled as he at once tried to say
"Thank goodness it's the last one," and "There's still more!"
The goblin ignored Harry's attempt to speak and slid out the last document. He looked at it. "Ah yes…birth certificate."
"I don't really need…"
"Harry James Potter," the goblin read. "Born 31 July, 1980. Mother: Lily Potter ne Evans."
"Yes, thank…"
"Father: Severus Snape."
"you…wait what?!"
He snatched the document away from the goblin. Under father, it said 'James Potter'. The goblin gave him a nasty grin, and snatched the document back. Harry glared at him, hardly even listening as the goblin finished reading the rest of the document, something about witnesses and his recent acceptance of a title.
"Now that we have covered all of your account," the goblin said, his voice suddenly clerical and faux friendly, "There is the matter of your future with us. Are you interested in stocks? Bonds? Would you like to set up a checkbook?"
The boy and the goblin looked at each other. Finally, Harry said, "Look, just take me to my vault, okay?"
"Of course, Lord Bogwater," the goblin answered, and just as suddenly as Harry had been dragged into the office, he now found himself shoved out of it.