AN: I'd like to thank all of you for your reviews, favs, and follows. I've read in many ANs over the past few years how much the reviews motivate authors, but I never quite understood that until seeing it from the other side of the fence. Thank you all. I'd also like to thank god of all, for writing my first review ever.
From a reader's standpoint, I can hardly wait for the next update for the stories I enjoy. So I'll let you guys know that I'm two chapters ahead with this story, however I don't post them until after I've reread them several times and written a chapter or so ahead. This is both to proofread and allow me to ensure plot continuity and a little wiggle room for adjusting details. I will do my best to post at least once a month. That being said, this is my hobby, and I do work full time and have to deal with real life. So please bear with me. Also, I have several other stories I occasionally nurse along. Some of them will hopefully find their way online.
As always, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy. This all belongs to JKR, I'm just adding my twists.
- Godric
~~~~GB~~~~
Early the next morning, Elphias Dodge apparated to the edge of Privet Drive under the cover of an invisibility cloak. As he walked closer to the established meeting point at the edge of the hedges of Number Four, he noticed that he could no longer feel the tingle of the blood wards identifying him as having neither ill intent nor dark magic in or on his person. That was red flag number one. Red flag number two was the obvious disappearance of Mundungus Fletcher. Red flag number three was that the kitchen window, through which one could normally see young Harry making breakfast, was dark. The true shock came when Elphias scanned the house with a magic pulse, and only found three non magical human auras, and not a bit of magic anywhere on the property. Elphias may have been getting on in years, but he made it to Hogwarts' Headmaster's office in record time that morning.
~~~~GB~~~~
Elsewhere in the country, a large cracking sound followed by a flash of light and a crash woke Harry with a start. Jumping up and taking a clumsy dueling stance on his bed, wand in hand, he scanned the room, only to see that the enlargement charms on his trusty school trunk had finally reached their limits, as evidenced by the large pile of his possessions on top of the busted remains of his trunk. He quickly dropped down and took a seat on the edge of his bed, breathing heavily as the adrenaline worked its way through his body. Guess that means it's time to get a new trunk; another stop in the alley for the day. He sighed and gathered some clothes off the heap in front of him and made his way to the bathroom.
~~~~GB~~~~
In the Hogwarts Headmaster's office, Albus had just sat down in his favorite chair after breakfast, with a stack of paperwork on the table next to him when his old friend Elphias had burst through his office door. "Albus! Albus! Hurry, come quick…there's something wrong, it's gone horribly, terribly wrong!"
"Come now Elphias, take a seat, catch your breath and explain what's happened." After more than a century's worth of experience in politics and childcare, Albus knew how to work through a panic attack. He summoned a glass of water from the sideboard and with a snap of the fingers in midflight it was blanketed in a cooling charm and directed right into Elphias' trembling hand.
A few brief moments later and Dodge had calmed enough to speak clearly, although his voice still contained the urgency of the situation. "It's Privet Drive Albus, I was on rotation this morning, but the wards are gone! Mundungus is nowhere to be found, and there's not a trace of magic on that property! Harry's gone, along with all of his possessions."
This momentarily rendered Albus speechless as he took stock of the situation; he glanced at the row of devices on the shelf that maintained the ward status of Privet Drive. Indeed all of them were motionless; indicating that the wards had truly vanished, and judging from the signs displayed Harry had at least a seven hour lead on them. His strategist mind quickly examining the possibilities and moves open to him. "Well, that is a very serious issue. Elphias, I need you to go down to the Great Hall and try to catch the order members among the staff before they leave breakfast, I'll have Fawkes send out the signal to the other members who are available, and I'll begin making floo calls to see if I can track Harry down. There are only a few places he'd have gone."
Albus quickly went through the list of people Harry might seek for refuge. His floo calls to the Burrow and Longbottom Manor turned up negative responses, and he contacted the guard at Ms. Granger's house, which was also a bust. Apparently Harry had not been in contact with Ms. Granger at all this summer, his snowy owl easy to spot among the typical barn owls that delivered the prophet and the Weasley boy's tiny energetic feather ball. He briefly considered the boy's godfather, but he knew Harry had not contacted Sirius, and he had no way of knowing where the Azkaban escapee was currently residing.
That left only the Leaky Cauldron, which was where Harry had run to after fleeing his relatives two years ago. The problem with that was that it was a very public place and Albus couldn't risk the wrong person overhearing that Harry Potter was missing. Albus would have to see to this personally, and carefully. He quickly disillusioned himself, flooed to the upper room of his brother's inn, then apparated to just inside the door to the Leaky Cauldron. It was still rather early, and no doubt a teenager who'd been kept on a very strict schedule would take advantage of his first day of freedom to get a bit of a lie in. Albus quietly sent out a magical scan of the building, finding more than fifty magical signals, not counting those of the myriad familiars. Unfortunately none of them corresponded to Mr. Potter or his owl. Defeated, Albus returned to his office, hoping that perhaps one of the order members who'd been on guard duty could suggest another place Harry may have run to. Of course Albus had no idea that Harry had been awoken a little earlier than he'd have liked, and had already been halfway to Gringott's before Albus entered the Cauldron.
~~~~GB~~~~
At about the same time that Albus was breaking the news to the assembled members of the Order, the boy himself was passing through the doors of Gringott's. Having only been open for less than half an hour, there were not many patrons present, thus Harry had no problem walking right up to the teller's desk.
"Excuse me, sir?" Harry cautiously asked the goblin behind the desk. He was careful to be exceptionally polite and be sure he did not show teeth when he smiled, such a thing was offensive in goblin culture according to Godric.
"Yes, how may Gringott's be of service to you today?" The goblin appeared to be rather young and still tired at this early hour. It was clear that he was merely following protocol and put little emotion behind his greeting.
"I need to speak with someone about claiming my family vaults. I'm sorry, but I don't know who the account manager in charge of my family is though. I've been raised away from the magical community, and have little knowledge of my heritage." Honesty: another key point in goblin culture.
Apparently his passing attempts at goblin manners had caught the attention of the teller, for he gave what passed for a goblin smile before asking in a little more polite voice. "Your family name, sir?"
"Potter." The goblin merely arched his extremely bushy eyebrow and gave an ever so brief glance at his scar before tapping a scroll of parchment in front of him and mumbling in Gobbledegook. The scroll appeared to be a list of client names and account managers for it shifted through several alphabetized accounts before stopping and highlighting the row that began with 'Potter'. The goblin then checked a different list, this one appearing to contain a schedule of some sort.
"Your account manager is Grimfist. I believe he has just arrived, and his schedule for the morning is clear. You will find his office just down that corridor, in room 112." Harry thanked the teller, again being as polite as possible before following his directions to a closed office door with the numbers 1-1-2 etched in gold on the mahogany surface. A series of symbols in gobbledegook were under the number, and below that was the name Grimfist, Account Services Manager also in gold. Again, relying on the advice from the telepathic blade at his hip, Harry knocked clearly and loudly three times in quick succession and waited for the gruff voice to grant him permission before he entered.
The opening door revealed a moderately sized office. Other than the obvious magical differences it appeared almost as if it could belong to any banker or lawyer's office in the muggle world. There were large file cabinets, bookshelves containing many impressively large books, a sideboard stocked with expensive looking bottles of what was surely the best liquor available, several framed certificates and awards, although Harry could not understand a word written on them, and the overly large wooden desk, all done in solid dark wood accented in brass and leather, or perhaps dragonhide, sitting on a thick plush rug. There was even a large mug of what might be coffee on the desk. The key difference; however, was the individual behind the desk.
Standing at just less than five foot even, the goblin behind the desk had a rough, grayish, scaly complexion and wisps of dark hair. His ears and nose were both long and rather pointed, as was his chin. He was clothed in an elaborate robe and armor combination that gave the impression of middle grade power, yet casual wealth. The fact that the overcoat was draped across the back of his large chair gave the office an almost contradictory relaxed feel.
"Yes?" the goblin asked as he bid Harry forward to take a seat in front of the desk.
"Hello sir, I'm Harry Potter, I'm here to claim my family vaults so that I can take up residence in my ancestral home. I know that I'm not of age yet, but I've been told that as the last remaining member of my family, I'm allowed to claim the headship and the responsibilities of my house." Godric had carefully explained what Harry had to say as they were walking to the bank.
"Potter you say?" Grimfist moved over to a row of filing cabinets, searching for the correct one. Hmmm…Potter, Potter…Here we go." He brought a rather large file back to the desk before glancing through a few pages. "Your information is correct; first however you must provide proof of identification. Normally a family ring could work, or a magical signature test, but it appears that you have never registered a signature to test against, and with the Potter family being in hibernation, a ring is out as well. We'll need to do a blood test." Harry nodded, half expecting this from the information he'd received from Godric. "I'm not a healer, but I do have a good amount of experience in these things, having worked in the heritage department for nearly one hundred and forty years before being promoted to account manager by your grandfather at my predecessor's retirement thirty-five years ago." Harry was rather surprised by the implied age of his account manager before Godric informed him that the average goblin could expect to live seven to eight hundred years with healthy living.
Grimfist pulled a small golden pin out of a black case in a drawer and then cast a few charms on a blank sheet of parchment. He then instructed Harry to prick his finger and touch the blood to the parchment. Within a few moments the blood had passed the test and a few short lines appeared on the paper confirming that he was indeed who he said he was. As Harry watched the lines fill in he learned a few things. First, his actual first name was Harrison. He supposed that his aunt having never seen his birth certificate did not know this, and that was how he'd been known as simply Harry. He also found out what his parents middle names were, Charles and Marie, and their birthdays. This information was followed by a few lines in Gobbledegook that Harry could not make out.
"Well, you are indeed Harry Potter; however, it appears that there are a few irregularities here. This test is showing that there are unknown substances in your blood. May I cast charms upon it to attempt to identify these substances?" Though the substances' presence was a bit surprising, Harry had a good idea what they might be, and he knew that blood was such a personal thing in magic, due to the powers it held, so he was also unsurprised by Grimfist seeking permission. With Harry's acceptance, Grimfist cast a few more charms over the paper, and prompted by the results he received opened a drawer and removed a small potion vial. Using a dropper he added one drop of this potion to the blood sample on the parchment. It appeared that he was rather shocked by the results. "Well, I have identified the substances. They appear to be basilisk venom and phoenix tears." The boy wizard nodded, the substances were as he assumed. "You've been bitten by a basilisk?"
"Yes sir, during my second year at Hogwarts there was an incident involving the Chamber of Secrets. The beast inside was a basilisk, and being a Parselmouth, I was uh… uniquely suited, I guess, to the task. During the fight I acquired the Sword of Gryffindor and as the snake was about to bite me, I managed to stab through the roof of its mouth, killing it. However, one of the fangs pierced my arm just below the elbow, here" Harry lifted his sleeve to show the somewhat jagged but faint scar where the fang had torn through his skin. "The headmaster's phoenix cried into the wound, sir. That is also why the tears are in my system."
Grimfist seemed slightly awed by this narration, and took a moment to gather his thoughts before replying. "Well, young Mister Potter, it appears your survival as a child was not the only feat you are capable of. That beast must have been near a millennia old. At that age it should have been damn close to twenty meters in length. It would be a challenge for any adult to defeat such a being. That you survived is a testament not only to your strength but also indicates that you must have some of the best luck I have ever heard of." Both occupants of the office shared a laugh at that.
"Yes sir, thank you sir." The dark haired wizard commented trying to hide his slight blush.
"I believe you should look into acquiring the carcass of that beast, should it still be available. Basilisk provide several valuable potions ingredients, and you could make a fair amount from the sale of such a thing. It is yours by right of conquest after all." The goblin shook his head for a moment before moving on. "Now then, you and I have quite a bit of business to attend to."
~~~~GB~~~~
Around the time that Harry was eyeing the large pile of paperwork his account manager had pulled out of a folio with trepidation, Albus was feeling a not unrelated sense of nervousness as he began to come to terms with the possibility that the Order may have in fact lost Harry Potter. He contemplated the possibilities as he sat at the head of the table in a conference room that was part of the Headmaster's Suite. The Order had just concluded its meeting, and no one had any idea where Harry may have gone beyond the locations already checked. One possibility was that he may have sought refuge in the muggle world, but no one knew of any place there that would hold prominence for Harry. All they could do was break off in pairs and groups and hope they found a lead. As the last of the floo flames flickered out, Albus sighed and wondered how his careful plans would be affected by this unexpected occurrence.
~~~~GB~~~~
Senior Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt was happy to volunteer his morning off to help further the cause of the Order of the Phoenix. He had never met Harry, or any of his friends, but he knew that the Dark Lord was gathering strength, and with the Boy-Who-Lived at the top of his hit list, it was possible the evil wizard would strike at one of the most vulnerable of Mr. Potter's friends. So it was that he was not to put out by his assigned task of guarding the Granger residence. Of course, between the line of people flooing out of the headmaster's office, and the time it took to apparate from Scotland down to the London suburbs, he arrived back at his post just in time to miss the fluttering of a snow white owl as it was admitted to an upstairs bedroom whose curtains were quickly drawn.
~~~~GB~~~~
Lunchtime was fast approaching as Harry finally signed the last of a rather impressive stack of documents in the Potter portfolio. It was at this time that he entertained the thought that goblins had not given up their warlike ways, but that they had just exchanged their axes and catapults for contracts and waivers. Honestly, he had never seen quite so many forms in one place, most of them in triplicate. There were so many authorization signatures and initialings that he felt his arm was near ready to just drop off from over work.
In the past few hours he had not only assumed his Head of House Potter duties, but he had also folded his trust fund back into the newly unfrozen family vault and reaccepted the management contracts and autonomy agreements of the various gem and mineral mines and refineries that his family owned throughout the world.
He had been intrigued to learn that the mining business had been his family's main income for over a millennia. Ever since a distant ancestor had discovered gems and precious metals in his clay mine. It seems that at one time the Potter's were... potters. It had grown from a small merchant business into a quite lucrative company with mining properties all over the world. Harry had also given his approval for various retainer positions such as financial and legal counsel, and reviewed the progress of the family's rather impressive fortune in the investment world.
Harry had tried his best to make sense of the various investments and stocks and business dealings as best he could, and for the record he felt that Grimfist was extraordinarily patient as he repeatedly explained things that Harry was sure were basic concepts in the financial world. Indeed, much of the decisions were made entirely by the goblin, with Harry merely approving his choices. If the profits over the past decade were anything to go by, he reasoned, his account manager obviously knew what he was doing. Combine that with the oath of honesty that Grimfist gave Harry as the new account holder, and the young wizard felt very comfortable with his non-human advisor. The guiding presence of Godric on his hip was also a lifeline among the morass of paperwork and decision making.
By the time the last of the contracts had been cleared away, the green eyed wizard had realized quite a lot about his financial situation. He had discovered that the Potter's were quite wealthy. Though the mines and refineries were essentially self sufficient and run by their own managers and co-ops of well paid employees, they contributed a healthy annual sum, as well as a certain share of raw materials to the family accounts. His investment portfolio had also been doing pretty well under Grimfist's management, and though there were the ever present losses, they were far outnumbered by the gains.
The amount of money he now possessed both shocked Harry and made him more than a little uncomfortable. For as long as he could remember, Harry had only desired to be normal. Growing up as the extra in the Dursley household he had always hoped he could somehow become a true part of the family, this desire continued once he learned of his past and fame. He always wanted to just be Harry, a normal teenage boy. And now he learned that he had more money than he could ever hope to spend, along with titles and responsibilities and it just served to make him even more abnormal, he would be mortified if any of his friends were ever to learn the truth
When Harry had expressed his surprise at such a large fortune Grimfist had explained that it not only included over a decade of interest with little spending, and the Potter's substantial personal fortune, but also several other accounts that had been merged into the Potter's in the past century due families dying out in Grindelwald and Voldemort uprisings, two muggle world wars, and a rather vicious outbreak of Wizard's Plague in the fifties.
"This is one of the unforeseen side effects of the older families having so many inter marriages," the banker had said. "There were well over a hundred families completely wiped out. Over a dozen were either cadet lines or families who had married into the Potter's. Their accounts reverted to your family, and now you as the only living heir. Combine that with the people's unwillingness to bear children in the difficult climate and the attacks on muggleborns forcing them to flee the country, and you have the explanation for magical Britain's shrinking population." Harry had learned that in situations in which an entire family was killed, once other disbursements were made from the will, if any, all property assets were liquidated, and the cash and heirlooms of the family were added into the account of the nearest relative. Apparently it was a law that had been passed centuries ago to prevent the ministry from claiming a deceased family's power. Of course the Wizengamot, a mostly hereditary body made up primarily of the Lords of these old houses, would never allow the ministry to threaten their authority.
Sadly, when he had asked, Grimfist told him that the last of the Potter cadet lines were completely wiped out by the Death Eaters and Voldemort during the seventies. It seemed the Dark Lord made it a priority to eliminate those he knew would be his biggest adversaries. This was why Harry's parents had been such high profile targets to Voldemort, and it was one of these attacks that successfully led to the murder of James' parents in 1979. This truly made Harry the last of the Potter line, with his only direct relatives being the Dursley's; although he was rather distantly related to a good number of the pureblood families through marriage including both the Blacks and the Longbottoms among others.
Grimfist informed Harry that aside from their success in business and their propensity in being on the frontlines of many wars, the Potter's were one of the oldest families known. They had ties to several prominent members of magical history and were rumored to be able to trace their family line back through the Roman Empire and beyond; although Harry would need to consult the official family records kept safely in the family estate in order to know for sure.
Godric took that chance to inform him that while the Hogwarts castle had long since been a governmental dependant and no longer private property of the Gryffindor family, as an heir of a founder, indeed the heir, Harry would have a few unique abilities once he returned to school such as affinity to the inherent castle magic and a small amount of control over the aspects of the castle, such as portraits and moving structures. Harry speculated that it was probably these abilities that aided his father in the making of The Marauder's Map.
There was also the matter of a vault created by Gringott's to contain donations to the "Boy-Who-Lived" from the grateful public over the past fourteen years. Upon learning that the account contained not only a good sized sum of gold, but also children's toys and clothes, Harry set up a system so that all of the donations and any further ones would be shared between magical orphanages and the St. Mungo's Children's ward. He reasoned that he was already far wealthier than he would ever have need for, and that the children in those facilities would use the gifts far more than he would.
When the last document had been notarized and filed, Grimfist pulled out a few more stacks of parchment and some small boxes. "Before you can complete your ascension, you will need the Potter signet to accept you, thereby finalizing everything we've worked on this morning." He then grabbed the first of the boxes. While still shocked by his heritage, what Harry saw once the goblin had cracked the lid momentarily stunned him, both for its significance as well as its beauty.
It was the Potter Family Signet.
A wide band of gold with the family seal on the front, flanked by flawless and beautiful trapezoidal red stones, which Harry later learned were garnets. The Seal itself was the inverted Potter crest, which consisted of a central shield bearing a crossed pickaxe and wand surmounted by a cluster of feathers on an old roman style helm and supported by an eagle and a lion. At a subtle mental nudge from Godric Harry gently removed the ring from the box and placed it onto his right ring finger, where it resized itself with a wiggle, a twist, and a flash of light. Harry became vaguely aware that the ring had its own magical sensation, almost an electrical pulse that tingled up his arm.
For his part, Grimfist was silent for a moment, allowing the young orphan to process the reception of such an heirloom. He then spoke softly; "The ring has accepted you. You will no doubt feel its magic, true family signets of the oldest Houses tie the lord with their family's magic. The specifics are kept most secret, but the most common traits are that you probably now have an instinctual knowledge of the Potter Estate, a host of protective enchantments, and most are also portkeys to your various properties" While the goblin spoke, Godric was telepathically informing Harry of the specific enchantments the Potter ring possessed. Harry was amused that his account manager had no way of knowing most of what he had mentioned was true. "As a signet, that ring will also serve as both your vault key, and a way of authorizing payment of larger sums without the need for physical gold. Simply affix your seal to the receipt and the bank will transfer the funds. Magic will create the wax as needed, you simply need to press the ring down and want to form the seal. It is a fairly common form of magical payment."
"Yes Sir." Harry was still a bit taken aback, but he looked up as Grimfist reached for the next box, which he opened to reveal a smaller narrow banded ring in silvery metal. Harry was not sure if it was white gold, silver, or potentially even platinum. It held a square cut smooth domed onyx stone flanked on one side by a crest featuring a chevroned shield containing a sword and two stars supported by what appeared to be two dogs. The other held a symbol that Harry vaguely recalled was the cadency symbol of the primary male heir of a title, a three paneled banner, which they had once studied in his muggle school. Here as well the craftsmanship was beyond superb. Harry shot Grimfist a confused and questioning look.
The banker elaborated "As Sirius Black was never convicted, his accounts remain untouched despite his fugitive status. While he is the Lord-in-Absentia of the Black family until he can claim the title, his will stands. As your godfather has you listed as his heir presumptive you are entitled to the Heir's Ring."
Harry picked up the ring, and with only a moment of hesitation slid it onto his right pinkie, as per Godrics instruction. This was the formal place for a secondary ring. Again, a wiggle, twist, and flash and the ring was properly sized.
Grimfist explained; "We have a rather rare situation in that as the current de jure lord is absent, but still alive and with a rightful claim, as his heir you are the de facto head of the Black family. You do not have the titles, and are under limited access, but you can control some of the running of the family estate." At this he pulled out another moderately large folder. Fortunately the Black family was not in hibernation, so the stack was significantly smaller, but Harry still had to review several investments and appoint new counsel. Harry picked all the same counsel as the Potter Estate with the proviso that they were temporary until the Lord of the family could be contacted. He again allowed Grimfist to take the lead with the investments. He figured he would have to speak to Sirius as soon as possible to determine what major actions should be taken.
Shortly thereafter the Black documents had been concluded and filed away with the Potter portfolio. This left Harry more exhausted than he would think from only handling paperwork, but also highly curious about the last bit of parchment and the final two boxes on Grimfist's Desk.
Noting his curiosity, Grimfist spoke; "Ah, I see you have noticed the last item on the agenda. Now that you are considered of age, your maternal grandparents' will can be fully executed. A portion of it has been held in trust since your mother never came in to file it, and with her passing it falls to you. This paperwork was transferred to us from our muggle counterparts shortly before your parents were killed. To shorten it a bit, your mother was left half your grandmother's jewelry, approximately 11,000 pounds cash, and a large box of Evans family heirlooms. This amounts to half of your grandparents' estate. Your aunt claimed her half fifteen years ago, just after your grandparents died in the house fire. All you have to do is sign here and here."
As he yet again signed his name, Harry considered the amount of information about his family that he had never known. He was aware that the Evans' were dead, as Petunia made annual trips to their gravesite, but he was not aware of the circumstances, or that they had left his mother, and by extension him, anything. Everything that he had discovered in the office over the past few hours caught up to him and he was left in a semi-trancelike state; simply staring at the rings on his hand.
Grimfist remained silent, but Godric was mindful of what still needed to be done. Harry. Harry, I know you are overwhelmed, to say the least, but we do have things we must be attending to. The mental prodding seemed to pull the boy wizard out of his thoughts as he jumped slightly and made his apologies for his distraction. With their business concluded, Harry made his farewells to the goblin and asked if it would be possible for him to visit his vault and look around. Having never had much that connected him to his family, he was extremely curious as to what may be there.
~~~~GB~~~~
As Harry was riding a cart into the depths of Gringott's, Sirius Black was pacing the private study of a rundown manor a few miles to the south. He was trying to vent his frustration at his seeming powerlessness. His godson was missing, something the Headmaster had waited several hours to deign informing him of, and he was once again prevented from helping him. It was Sirius' greatest regret that he had let his rage blind him and allowed Hagrid to take the infant Harry while he, the one who was supposed to care for the child of his best friend, left to hunt down the rat. Now, he was again prevented from doing his godfatherly duty. The professor had essentially locked him in his own house. Deep down, the marauder knew it was probably for the best. He was still a wanted criminal, and with Pettigrew back with the Dark Lord, every Death Eater this side of the cliffs of Dover probably knew what Padfoot looked like. All the same he was still gripped with fear and anxiety over where Harry was, and why no one had heard from him.
It was on what could have been his hundredth lap around the old desk that he felt a nagging sensation in the back of his mind. As he was pulled from his worries the tingle kept getting stronger. Sirius took a breath and tried to focus on where it was coming from. He eventually realized that it was his magical connection to his Head of House ring. Sirius had found the heavy ring in the desk drawer the day he arrived.
He was surprised when the ring accepted him, he was certain his mother had disinherited him years ago, but there was no mistaking the feeling as the enchantments bonded to him... the enchantments... The enchantments that connected the Head of House to the other members of the family. Members of the family who would be wearing rings, such as the Heir's Ring, which would mean it had to be Harry! Harry was the only other person who could currently claim a Black family ring! Andromeda had yet to be reinstated, and Narcissa and Bellatrix had forfeited their claims to the House of Black in their wedding vows, as was the pureblood custom to prevent line feuds. But Harry, Harry was listed as his heir, and Gringott's didn't give a flying fig about what the ministry says, so they would honor it!
Sirius did a happy little dance now that he knew Harry was okay. That tingle was the family magic letting him know everything would be fine... now if he could remember how to activate the telepathic connection... it had been decades since his lessons with his father. But there was a journal somewhere. He was sure of it. He began to scour the study, wondering where his father had left it.
~~~~GB~~~~
Until next time,
-G
