The Elixir of Taliesin
Summary: Harry receives a letter from Gringotts revealing that he inherited a lot more than gold from his parents. He finds that he is the culmination of a plan that spans thousands of years to save the wizarding world. Harry obtains ancient knowledge from some of the greatest witches and wizards that have ever lived so that he may save the magic from becoming extinct… that is if the people inside his head would stop bickering long enough to let him think!
Disclaimer: Roses are red, violets are blue, I don't own Harry Potter, so please don't sue!
Many thanks to Teufel1987 for his awesome Beta reader skills!
Note to readers: As of 7/6/2011 this chapter has been updated. Thanks to Teufel1987, I have been revised the chapter and added some minor changes.
Thank you for your time. I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 2: Harry Loses His Temper
Harry woke early the next morning, hoping to have some time to think about the situation he was now in. He had gone from an average boy of almost fifteen years, famous for something he had no recollection of, alive only because of dumb luck and help from his friends, to a Duke in approximately twenty four hours. Now things were happening so quickly, it felt as if he were just watching his life fly by, like the towns from the window of the familiar Hogwarts express.
Like the night before, Harry did not have his recurring his nightmare of reliving Cedric's death. No, he had awoken from a dream filled with people he had never met, yet they were somewhat strangely familiar. As Harry stirred under his covers, still half asleep, he wondered how they felt so familiar when he was certain he had not met them before. After all, how could he forget a bubbly, black-haired man wearing a yellow toga! He would definitely have remembered meeting an short, aged black man, dressed only in a loin cloth, waving a machete, crying out, "Som'n brin me da rum! Ma jools be gett'n freezy!"
He blamed the dream on bad lettuce from yesterday's dinner (if you could call three leaves of lettuce and a quarter of an orange a meal, even during a diet). How else would he dream of a drunk old Haitian man ('Now how did I know he was Haitian?' Harry thought), screaming about his lack of alcohol and the temperature of his genitalia?
He inwardly sighed, 'If this is what I think about when half-asleep, I should get up and spare myself the mental scarring.'
Harry threw back his covers, and swung his feet out of bed, only to knock something large, black, and furry (which, until this point, had been having a very nice dream about playing fetch with his godson, thank you very much!) onto the floor, which immediately yelped when coming in contact with the hard floor.
Harry grabbed his glasses and wand off of his bedside table. After shoving his glasses onto his face, he whipped away from the form tangled in his sheets, which had transformed into a lanky, thin man with long black hair.
"If this is how you treat your godfather, I'd hate to see what you do to people that aren't family!" Sirius grumbled, still entangled in the sheets.
Harry's mind was thrown into overdrive. 'Why was Sirius here?' He hadn't replied after Harry had sent Hedwig to him with his worries about the Headmaster. 'This may not even be Sirius! Hedwig could have been intercepted, their secret code broken, and an imposter sent in his place.' Harry decided to test him.
Harry pounced on the intruder, pinning him to the ground, wand pointed at his heart. "What gift did you give me in my third year?"
"Harry, it's me! Surely you could see..."
"Polyjuice potion! What was the gift?"
"You saw my Animagus form! You can't..."
"Self-transfiguration! THE GIFT!"
"A Firebolt! I gave you your Firebolt!"
Harry felt relief flood over him. He quickly pulled his godfather into a hug. "Sirius!"
Sirius Black chuckled lightly. "I love you too, pup! But I think we would both be more comfortable up off the floor."
Harry blushed slightly, stood, and helped Sirius to his feet. "Sorry," he mumbled, "had to make sure..."
"Don't apologize! It was my fault. I should be the one apologizing. I am the one who sneaked into your room in the middle of the night. I should have owled you, but I didn't want it to be intercepted. I was going to stay up and wait for you to wake, but I've been traveling for the past two days straight, and I am ashamed to say I fell asleep." Sirius blushed slightly, "It was the first time in a while that I had been able to sleep without having to look over my shoulder, fearing recapture."
"Traveling for two days? Why didn't you use Buckbeak? Did something happen to him?" Harry asked, concerned for both his godfather and the hippogriff.
"Ha!" Sirius barked, " Of course I used Buckbeak. I was hiding in a cave on Majorca when I got your letter, and set off immediately. Where did you think I was hiding, York? I left him in a clearing in the woods about a mile away."
"Oh... Er... So! Have a nice trip?" The conversation was awkward at first since Harry was still embarrassed by his suspicion of his godfather. Sirius, though, quickly brushed this away when he told Harry about the time Beaky dumped him in a wine vat in the Bordeaux wine country after being startled by some fireworks. Both Harry and Sirius had a laugh when Sirius reminisced about trying to remain anonymous when his skin was stained a noticeable burgundy color.
Eventually, Harry and Sirius fell upon the topic of the Headmaster. Harry was relieved to find that Sirius shared his suspicions. Since his escape, Sirius had found that it had been Dumbledore's decision to send him to Azkaban without a trial.
As the story of Dumbledore's treachery was revealed, Harry grew increasingly incensed. It was slowly becoming clear that Dumbledore was never concerned with his precious 'Greater Good'. It was just a justification for his actions. It was a generic cure-all whenever he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
Both Sirius and Harry agreed that they would need to gather supporters before they could reveal Dumbledore's treachery. He was too powerful. They would need to bide their time. At this point Harry shivered. He felt this sounded too much like Voldemort and Dumbledore, but Sirius batted his worries away. It was not waiting for an advantage for personal gain, but rather self-preservation. If they revealed their hand before it was possible to survive the confrontation, their cause was lost. Dumbledore would obliterate any opposition if he thought he could get away with it, even the Boy-Who-Lived.
Tap, tap, tap.
Harry sighed. He thought that he would have time to explain today's events before the Gringotts owl arrived. Apparently he was wrong.
Tap, tap, tap.
"Harry, there is an owl at your window with a watch strapped to its leg. If you don't know who sent it, I don't think you should let it in. That watch is definitely a portkey, and who knows where it will take you? You've already been kidnapped once using those things, I don't want it to happen again."
"Padfoot, I was hoping I would have had time to explain it to you before the owl got here, but I guess now is good a time as any."
Harry went to the window, opened it, and retrieved the watch, only to watch the bird fly away. Harry turned back to his godfather, whose mood had apparently had brightened on being called by his old Marauder nickname, just as Harry had expected. He knew that Sirius would do anything for him, jump in front of an Avada Kedavara, accompany his to a crowded public bank, even help him brave the sharks that call themselves 'journalists', but a little buttering-up never hurt.
"Here, I think you should read this first." Harry handed Sirius the Gringotts letter, not wanting to try and explain it himself. By showing him the letter, Harry could dodge any questions that Sirius had (they would most likely be the same questions Harry had), saying that he was seeking the same answers.
Harry mentally held his mentally held his breath as his godfather read and reread the letter. Sirius looked up and did the last thing Harry expected of him. His eyes rolled up into his head... and he fainted. Yes, the man who was falsely accused of murder, the man who survived twelve years in Azkaban with his sanity mostly intact (there were moments when Harry wasn't exactly certain he had escaped mentally unscathed), the man who helped keep a werewolf in line during the full moon while balancing his studies, the man who had fought on the front lines of the last war as an auror, his godfather, had fainted.
"You have got to be kidding me!" Harry threw his hands up into the air in frustration. He had hoped Sirius would take it in stride. Apparently he was wrong.
He grabbed the glass of water off of his bedside table bent over his godfather. "Come on Sirius!" No response. "Well, here goes nothing." Harry dumped the water unceremoniously over the man on the floor. Immediately his snapped open, sputtering as he tried to clear his airways of the foreign liquid. "Wakey, wakey, Sirius! Rise and shine!"
"Was that really necessary, pup?"
"Sirius you fainted. I gave you a chance to wake up on your own. You didn't wake up. I decided to take a page out of the Marauder's book and take advantage of the situation."
Sirius's face broke into a wide grin, "Well, you are your father's son. I don't know how many times James used Aguamenti to get me out of bed in the morning. If you come to live with me, you had better watch yourself. I always retaliated with a quick Levicorpus before dropping him back on his head." Sirius took on a pensive look for a moment before grinning again. "Now that I think about it, that may be why he did so poorly in his classes. It probably was not the best idea but I will think of something."
Harry chuckled, "We can talk about my living arrangements later, but we have more pressing matters to deal with."
Sirius sobered, "Yes, well, obviously we need answers. I am guessing that the watch is the portkey this..." he glanced back at the parchment, "Griphook sent."
"Yes, and before you ask, I think we should trust him. Goblins are neutral, in fact, most of them hate wizards. To have one gush about meeting me says that respects me... for what reason, I do not know, but a Goblin's respect should never be scorned. You know what happened when King Aelthelstan* spurned Snarltooth, and the resulting Goblin wars." When Sirius adopted a perplexed look, Harry, indignant, defended himself, "Hey! While you may have discounted Binns as an old windbag, I taught myself what I missed during my History of Magic naps." Harry remembered Sirius's reaction to the letter. "Hey, Padfoot, why did you faint?"
"You, who just said that you actually studied what Binns taught, are asking me why I fainted?"
"Why would that have anyth..."
"You seriously were never taught about the Duke of Tintagel and the House of Emrys? It's covered in your first year, when you learn about Britain's magical government!"
"Well, that may be your problem! At the beginning of my time at Hogwarts, I remember Binns complaining about some change in the HoM course program, about taking out sections, and replacing them with international history."
"Damn you, Dumbledore! I suspect he took out those sections to keep you ignorant of your inheritance on the off chance that you learn of it." Sirius's eyes took on a mischievous glint. "Well, I guess the Goblins will tell you, so I don't think I will spoil the surprise." He looked down at the letter again. "This says you may bring advisers. I am coming, and that's that. I will, however, be wanting to borrow your invisibility cloak. While it may be risky, I want to see the look on your face when the surprise is revealed."
Harry smiled. "I had hoped you were going to come along, but..."
Sirius glanced down at the watch on the bedside table, and flinched. He quickly grabbed it. "Shit! Quick, Harry! Hold on. We only have about a half a minute!"
Harry lunged at the watch. No sooner had he grabbed the timepiece, then he felt the familiar jerk behind his navel.
Harry and Sirius landed in a heap in the center of the main hall of the Goblin bank. Gathering their wits about them (being slammed onto a cold stone floor after having your balance thrown out of whack via portkey was not pleasant), they helped each other to their feet and looked around. Harry chuckled as he heard Sirius muttering under his breath, "Damn portkeys, never could get the landing right."
The first thing the duo noticed was that the hall was close to being empty. Gone were the normal gaggle of witches and wizards complaining about one thing or another to a league of uninterested Goblins. The second thing they noticed (and to the two, this was the more urgent matter at hand) was the absence of the Goblin clerks sitting at the lines of desks. Instead, these bankers were replaced by rows of warriors. Each decked out in some type of armor, armed to the teeth, standing at the ready.
As soon as the duo's brains processed this bit of information, they sprang to the ready. Both adopted dueling stances, ready to fend off any attackers.
'I wonder why they aren't attacking? They could have had us in chains by now,' Harry thought, '...or dead for that matter." he added morbidly.
From the back of the hall, there was a shout from a commanding voice. It sounded odd to Harry's ears, but, given that he could understand the words, he attributed this alien quality of the words to the cavernous nature of the hall. "BEHOLD, THE MOST NOBLE HARRISON JAMES, THE DUKE OF TINTAGEL! COUNTRYMEN, GIVE HOMAGE WHERE IT IS DUE!"
As one, the warriors knelt.
As one, the duo's jaws practically hit the floor.
Harry was reeling. Goblins subjugated themselves to no one. They were a proud, independent people. They protected their autonomy at all costs, as illustrated in the dozens of Goblin rebellions around the world. The only person a Goblin was expected to kneel to was the leader of the Goblin Nation, Ragnup or Ratsnap or something like that. He couldn't believe it. They had knelt to a wizard! They had knelt to him!
Both Harry and Sirius were still stunned when a regal looking Goblin walked up to their place at the center of the hall.
"Your Grace, if I may introduce myself, I am Ragnok, Leader of the Goblin Nations, Patriarch of the Gringot Clan, and President of the United Goblin Banking Firm. I wish to welcome you and your companion to our establishment with all the honor due to your station. Since you have decided upon taking up the mantle of the Duke of Tintagel, the whole of the Goblin Nation welcomes you, and wishes to express our joy at this fact."
Harry just stood there, mouth open. He wasn't ready for this. He had just wanted to figure out what the letter had meant, and to learn about his heritage. He knew he must be important because he was a Duke... but this? He was just shell-shocked.
"Say something." Sirius whispered hurriedly in his ear. "Don't just stand there with your mouth wide open. Tell the nice Goblin hello."
"Er... Hello." Sirius let his face fall into his hands in exasperation. Harry cleared his throat and regained his composure, "Thank you for your welcome. I must say that I was surprised to learn of my inheritance. Until this point, I had thought my inheritance only consisted of my mother's eyes, my fathers looks, a magical cloak, and a small pile of gold. Now, I am told that most of my inheritance has been kept a secret, and that someone has been steeling me, you must agree that this is a little overwhelming. Please excuse my earlier lapse in protocol, I am still a bit shell-shocked."
As Harry calmed down, he saw that the Goblin's face was etched with fury. His eyes burned like black coals. Harry knew he had said something to upset the head Goblin. He was starting to get scared.
Ragnok must have seen Harry's fear, for his gaze quickly softened. "I am sorry, sir. I am not angry at you," at this Harry released the breath that he realized he had been holding, "You should have been informed of your full inheritance when you turned eleven. To not only hear that this information had been withheld from you, but to hear that someone has been stealing from you, from the Duke of Tintagel, is quite a blow to the pride of the Goblin Nation. We owe everything we have built as a Nation to your ancestor, the first Duke of Tintagel and the Primo Pater of the House of Emrys. And now that there is finally another, after nearly fifteen hundred years, that fulfills the requirements to ascend to the position of the Duke, we learn that we have failed him in protecting what is rightfully his. I am angry at myself, but also, I am furious that someone dared steal from one of the Goblin-Friends, the members of the House of Emrys." Ragnok took a moment to get his emotions under control again. He motioned to one of the warriors, who hurried up to the group. Ragnok whispered in his ear for a moment before the armored goblin hurried off down a side passage in an obvious hurry. He turned back to the humans, "We should continue this conversation somewhere more comfortable. We will meet with my great-nephew, Griphook, and resolve the issues with your vaults, in addition to answering any questions you may have."
"Thank you, Ragnok. We would be honored." The Goblin nodded and turned on his heel, leading Harry and Sirius into the bowels of the bank.
Harry and Sirius had been following Ragnok for fifteen minutes when Harry turned to Sirius, "What the fuck just happened?" he whispered, still stunned.
"Language, pup! Language!" He chuckled back. His godson sent him a look that clearly said, 'Really! You're telling me to watch my language!' "Oh my God, I am turning into your mother!" Sirius exclaimed in sudden horrified realisation. "She used to chide your father all the time about his foul mouth. I don't think James started to listen until she started the practice of hitting him upside the head! Well, as to your vulgar question, I told you before, I wanted to see your face when you found out about your inheritance, and I still don't want to ruin the moment."
"You were just as stunned as me back there. We both nearly shat ourselves when we saw those guards. How can you still say that you know what is coming when you probably need a new pair of trousers?"
"I didn't know Myrddin Emrys was so important to the Goblins. I just didn't want to ruin the illusion of the all-knowing godfather!" At this, it was Harry's turn to laugh. The image of Sirius as a wise old sage was just too much. "Well, ha, ha!" replied Sirius sarcastically, "you'll be shut up in a minute."
"Wait a second, I've heard the name Myrddin Emrys before! I just can't remember where..."
"Merlin's moldy shorts! I say this with all the love possible, but, Harry m'boy, you are dense!"
Harry's smart ass reply was cut off by Ragnok's abrupt stop. In front of them was a large set of ancient silver doors. They soared over the trio's heads. Harry guessed that they were at least thirty feet tall. The silver of the doors polished to a mirror-like sheen, almost blinding them with the reflected light of the torches and braziers that illuminated the hallway behind them. Upon the carved frame of the doors were depictions of goblin history. Harry could recognize some of the events: the Treaty of Avalon, the founding of the goblin banks, and finally, the attempted extermination of the goblins by Gellert Grindelwald. This last scene brought tears to Harry's eyes. In front of him, he watched as Grindelwald slaughtered mothers, fathers, and children in his horrible concentration camps, guilty only of being a sentient magical creature. He watched as, not only goblins, but also centaurs, house elves, giants, and merpeople were tortured to death. He had to admit, no matter what Dumbledore had done, Harry respected him, if only because he put a stop to this massacre.
Harry blinked away his tears, only to see Griphook had joined their party. The other three were not examining the door as Harry had been doing, but instead, they were watching him... watching him cry.
"Er... Sorry," he said when he had found his voice, blushing slightly at his show of weakness "I hate seeing the innocent in pain. I guess full reality of Grindelwald's concentration camps hadn't been explained to me till now.. They were tortured and killed, only because they were not human. Grindelwald and his followers forfeited their own humanity in their quest to make humanity ascendant in the magical world. No matter what Dumbledore has done to me in the past, he will always have my respect for defeating this... this... this monster."
Sirius warped his arms around Harry's shoulder, tears glistening in his eyes. Ragnok looked at Harry with a mixture of pride and awe. Griphook's expression was equitable to Harry's and Sirius's when the goblins in the Entrance Hall had knelt: jaw dropped, eyes bugging.
Finally, Ragnok spoke up, his voice shaky with emotion, "You honor us with your sorrow. Sometimes I have cursed my own race because we are physically unable to cry. We are not even able to be sorrowful for lengthy periods of time. It just turns to anger and hate. This is why most creatures see us as underlings, because it is difficult for us to exhibit emotions, we are unable to mourn. You, on the underhand see our sorrow as your own, in doing so you allow us to heal. Heal, but not forget. Never forget! But you allow us to move on. I can see that you truly are an Emrys. I do not need a piece of paper to tell me that now. I can see it in your actions and in your emotions."
Ragnok stared at him, pride and hope gleaming in his eyes. Sirius looked uneasily from one goblin to the other. Finally he cleared his throat. This apparently snapped Ragnok back into reality.
"Ah... well... back to business!" Ragnok blushed slightly ('Call the Prophet!' Harry thought, 'a goblin is blushing!'), embarrassed that a wizard had to remind a goblin about business matters.
At this, Harry looked away from Ragnok. He knew that goblins were a proud people. He knew that goblin society saw blushing (or showing any emotion other than amusement and fury, for that matter) as very shameful. He was starting to like Ragnok, he did not want to the goblin to know that he had seen him doing anything uncouth.
Harry's eyes refastened on the door since it seemed like a safe location. 'Goblins love it when others admired their race's handy-work, although they would never admit it to someone.' Harry thought, and again, for the second time in twenty-four hours he found himself thinking, 'Now how do I know that?'.
He examined the main feature of the doors. In the center, spanning the hairline crack that split the work of art, was a monumental depiction of a mountain. As Harry examined it carefully, his jaw dropped. He observed that it wasn't a mountain (or, at least, it wasn't just a mountain), it was a city.
Harry could see the miniscule doors that provided entrance into the city at the base of the edifice. As the mountain climbed into the sky, Harry could see windows, balconies, and terraces carved into the stone, all spiraling up to the summit, which split a quarter from the top, creating twin peaks, separated only by a steep ravine. Upon each peak was a tower, linked by a long stone bridge. Harry knew, from the scale of the mountain and the size of the windows, that to only call these buildings towers was like calling Hogwarts Castle a cottage. These towers were regal, light, and airy, almost as if, instead of the mountain supporting the towers, the towers were pulling the mountain up, out of the ground.
There was something familiar to Harry about this mountain. He knew he had never seen anything remotely like this, but he felt it calling to him, like those towers were where he was meant to be. They felt like home.
It was Ragnok's turn to clear his throat. Harry's eyes snapped back to the goblin, seeing an amused expression on his face, it was Harry's turn to flush with embarrassment.
"Er... Sorry, I don't know what came over me. It was like the mountain was calling to me. Please forgive me for my ignorance, but, where is that? If it is a goblin secret, I again ask your forgiveness, and again ask you to forgive me because of my ignorance. But I had to ask, I feel it calling my magic. It feels like... I know this must sound silly, but... well... it feels like home."
For the first time, all three of his companions were found with their mouths hanging open. Ragnok was the first to recover. Well, recover in the sense that he was able to speak. He turned to Griphook and said, in speech that echoed the alien quality of the words he heard shouted in the entrance hall, practically bouncing with excitement, "It's him, Grip, its actually him! I couldn't believe it when you first brought word that he had accepted the inheritance, but it's really him! If I could cry, I would be flooding the room with my happiness. We have finally found Taliesin! We will be free!" Ragnok finally seemed to actually process what he was seeing. Griphook was not as reserved as his Great-uncle. He was actually jumping up and down, clapping his hands excitedly. Ragnok took on a more reserved pose, and grabbed Griphook's shoulders to stop him from imitating a pogo stick (although Harry knew that the goblins probably hadn't even heard of a pogo stick before). "Calm down, Grip. We are goblins, not house elves. Remember, we can't reveal the prophecy to Taliesin until after he assumes his inheritance. Now, can you calm down enough to behave yourself?" Griphook looked slightly put-out at the reprimand. Looking at his feet in defeat, he nodded. "Good." Ragnok turned back to Harry and Sirius. This time, when Ragnok spoke, the alien quality of his voice was gone, "I am sorry, Griphook is still young in goblin years, he gets excited very easily."
Harry, for what felt like the millionth time in the past two days, he felt very confused. Harry was tired of being confused. He decided to get some answers. He decided to try and cast his voice in the alien manner that Ragnok had just spoken in. The goblins seemed more relaxed when speaking with that odd lilt. He was tired of being in the dark. He wanted answers, and he wanted them now!
"Can someone please start explaining what is happening! I get a letter saying that: 1) money is vanishing from my vault; 2) that this is not my only vault, contrary to what I have been led to believe; 3) I am a Baron and a Duke... a Duke... and again, no one thought to inform me; 4) while I inherited the Barony from my father, I inherited the Duchy and the Dukedom from my MUGGLE-BORN mother; 5) I have not only inherited a seat on the Wizengamot from my father, but I also inherited ten seats from my (again do I have to say it?) MUGGLE-BORN mother, which, by the way, shouldn't be possible since one can only have one vote per title as Head of House, so a MOST I should only have two, not eleven! And now.. now I find that there is some sort of prophecy about me! That I am... what did you call it... Taliesin! Forgive me for my outburst, but I want answers, AND I WANT THEM NOW! If I am all these things I think I deserve some answers!"
From the beginning of Harry's rant, all three companions were floored. As soon as Harry started speaking, Sirius's mind was thrown into overdrive. 'How in Merlin's name does he know Gobbledegook? He is speaking it like it is his native language! He even knows the idioms for Merlin's sake! The only people outside the Goblin Nation that can speak that language are humans who are in positions of power in the bank, and even they are only taught enough to get by with. The only reason that I can understand him because of the translation charms I performed so I could get by when I was on the run!'
As Harry progressed in his rant, Sirius became scared, and not scared in the sense of, "O shit! You startled me!" but rather, "Holy fuck! What have I gotten myself into! I'm not going to live to see tomorrow!" terrified. The only other time he had been this frightened was after he had refused to join old Voldie and had to duel his way out of a warded ancestral mansion filled with Death Eaters. 'Harry doesn't realize the power he wields!' Sirius realized with a shock. The only time he had felt close to this much power was when Dumbledore led the charge, storming a Death Eater fortress while trying to rescue some kidnapped students, and even then Dumbledore's power was like the Thames to Harry's Nile.
When Harry had finally come around to mentioning the Goblin's mention of a prophecy and the title of Taliesin, even the goblins were scared. Griphook had backed into the corner of the hallway, between the silver doors' frames and the wall. Ragnok was attempting to shield his great-nephew's body from harm, putting himself between the younger goblin and the magical maelstrom that was exhibiting itself in the hallway, chanting in a deep ancient tongue that was laced with the goblin's own magic. Sirius had long since cast the most powerful shield charm that he knew, hoping it would be enough to save his life (he knew it was not potent enough to allow him to walk away unscathed, but he would choose maimed over dead any day) if his godson had lost his strenuous control.
Meanwhile, the cavernous hall was in chaos.
At the beginning of the speech, the thing that had warned the trio that Harry was losing control was that the hall was suddenly filled with a wind, a gentle breeze at first (which was odd to begin with, being that they were more than a half a mile underground) but it quickly increased in force, to the point that it would not be out of place in a typhoon. The magical wind whipped around Harry, picking up any loose debris, ripping doors off their hinges, pulling tongues of fire out from the braziers that lit the hall.
Every so often, Sirius got a glimpse of Harry through the tornado of fire and debris. He could see his godson was no longer standing on the floor, but rather, he was levitating, level with the top of the ancient silver doors, twenty feet up. His had gone beyond his normal brilliant emerald color, they were glowing. Light flowed from those emerald pools. Sirius was entranced by the depths of knowledge he could see in Harry's eyes. It was beautiful and terrible at the same time. No one being should hold that amount of knowledge, and yet, here was his godson, the boy he wanted to adopt ever since that fateful Halloween night, almost thirteen and a half years ago. As quickly as Sirius's glance into Harry's eyes appeared, it was torn away, as a piece of debris or tongue of flame obscured his line of sight.
He knew if Harry lost control and accidentally hurt someone, he would be devastated. He was too pure of a soul to not be. Harry would see it as his fault. It was his power, he had lost control over it, he could have stopped it. Sirius knew that this line of thinking could destroy his godson, so he decided to do the only thing that he knew would calm Harry, even if he did have to put his own life at risk.
Sirius dropped his magical shield, and slowly made his way to the source of the magical cyclone. Each step was torture. The closer he got to Harry, the more Harry's magic called out to his own.
Sirius's magic burned inside his veins, wanting to be released, wanting to join the wonderful dance that Harry had created. Its master, however, was too stubborn to let it join, to let it play. Did the master not know that the boy held ancient magics, foreign magics that were either extremely rare, or had left this earth all together? Why did the master not want to be part of that, to surrender themselves and bask in the power? Sure, both the boy's and its master's bodies would need to be destroyed, so that they too may join in the dance, but that is inconsequential to the joy that could be found in the ancient magics.
Sirius did not hear his magic's pleas and urgings in a physical sense, but he felt its intentions. He knew that if he did not stop Harry soon, the only person he saw as family would be consumed by his own power. The boy he saw as his son (God damn it! Fuck adoption, Harry was his son! And nothing the Ministry of Magic or Dumbledore can say would change that!) would die, and then Sirius would be alone in the world. Yes, there was still Remus, but Sirius hadn't heard from him since that night more than a year ago when Pettigrew was revealed and had subsequently escaped. He didn't even know if Remus wanted Sirius back into his life ('Who would want to hang around a person which you could get thrown into Azkaban for even being near!' Sirius repeatedly thought during those long hours on the run, with only Beaky and Harry's letters as company). Harry was the only thing keeping him sane. He was his only reason to live, and Sirius was damned well NOT going to let anything happen to his son!
"Harry!" Sirius called out, when he could go no further, "Harry, its Sirius! You're scaring me! I love you Harry, and I hate seeing you this way! You are like a son to me, Harry! Fuck Dumbledore! Fuck the Ministry! You are my son, and I damn well will not let you lose yourself in this power! You are better than this! Please, Harry!" Sirius was pleading now, tears raining down his cheeks into his scruffy beard, "Please, Harry! Come back! I don't want to live in a world without you! I lost you once on that Halloween years ago, and I will not lose you again!" Now Sirius was hysterical, "COME BACK HARRY! COME HOME!"
Harry was jolted back to reality. He was scared. The last thing he remembered was him yelling at the top of his lungs that he wanted answers. Now he was floating twenty feet above the ground, surrounded in a whirlwind of fire and debris, air thick with magic. He heard someone screaming, and realized it was Sirius.
"Please, Harry! Come back! I don't want to live in a world without you! I lost you once that Halloween years ago, and I will not lose you again! COME BACK, HARRY! COME HOME!"
Tears sprang to Harry's eyes. He had hurt Sirius. He had hurt the only person that had truly loved him since his parents had been killed. Sirius was hysterical. The man who survived Azkaban, survived a year on the run alone with only a hippogriff for company, was scared for him. Harry could see burns all over his body, places where the fire from the tornado had burned away clothing and seared his flesh, but he had ignored that. He could see places where pieces of stone, fragments of wood, and shards of metal had gouged his skin, but Sirius hadn't seemed to notice. His eyes, no, his entire being was focused on Harry. He was not scared for his own safety, but was scared for the one doing this to him.
Instantaneously, the wind stopped and the fire returned to their sources in the braziers around the hall. Harry lowered the debris to the floor, careful to avoid Sirius and the pair of goblins that he had just spotted in the corner. Slowly he floated back to the floor, eyes returning to their normal deep emerald color.
Harry rushed over to Sirius and threw his arms around him. "I'm sorry! I'm so, so, sorry!" Harry kept repeating this mantra over and over, while Sirius returned the hug, repeating, "It's alright, pup. Everything is gonna be fine." Neither realized that they were crying.
As Ragnok finally allowed Griphook out from behind him, the two approached the human pair cautiously. Ragnok had been alive for a long time, he was old. Old even to goblins' standards. He had seen the last Duke when he was young. He had felt the power emitted by that ancient wizard at his peak. Even when his power was unmasked in that final battle where he gave his life to defeat his foe, his power was nothing like the display he had just seen before him.
For the first time in his life, Ragnok the Fearless, who had led the Goblin Nation for the past millennium, was scared. He had not been scared for his life. No, he knew that his life was nothing when compared to the welfare of the Goblin Nation. No. He was scared at the possibility of having this wizard (no that was not the right word), this being, as an enemy. He knew that Taliesin was supposed to be a savior, but what if the ancient prophets were wrong? What if this boy was magic's doom? Surely nothing could stand against him. He was power incarnate.
Ragnok shook his head. 'No! I cannot doubt the prophecies. They are the only thing giving many magical creatures hope these days. That one day, they may be free! Yes, it is clear that this boy is Taliesin. Yes, this boy is our savior. If he was not pure of heart, why is he even now apologizing? Why is he crying?' Ragnok could feel the grief, sorrow, and regret flowing off of the boy, 'Yes! This is the one! This is Taliesin!' Ragnok's eyes widened, as he suddenly remembered another verse of the prophecy. 'Now there is no doubt, our savior has arrived.'
When Harry had finally pulled himself together, he turned to Ragnok, regret still deeply etched in his eyes. "Lord Ragnok, I am truly sorry. I don't know what happened. I assure you, I will pay for all the damages, both physical and emotional, even if it empties all of my vaults. I hope you can accept my..."
Ragnok cut the boy off with a smile, " Your Grace, I don't think you understand your situation. It will all be explained when we reach the ordained place. I am sorry, your frustration is my fault. I should have explained before we started our journey into the bank. I am not trying to delay informing you of your inheritance, nor am I trying to delay any questions pertaining to the failure on our part with regards to your Trust Vault. No, I am only fulfilling the final request of the Last Will and Testament of the previous duke, that the first meeting between the Leader of the Goblin Nation and the his heir occur in a specific place. We are, in fact, almost there. We only need to travel through this door behind me. I, however, am not able to open it. That task lies to you. You must place your wand hand over the crack in the door and say, "drych mawr, yn agor y drws i gartref", this should allow us to pass through it."
Harry hesitantly stretched his arm out, laying his palm on the seam of the door. 'Here goes nothing!'
"DRYCH MAWR, YN AGOR Y DRWS I GARTREF!" Harry spoke softly, but his words transformed as soon as they left his mouth. They lowered in pitch, almost to the point of being painful to hear, and reverberated around the hall.
Under his hand, he felt the door change. One moment it was solid silver, the next it was liquid, almost like the mercury and gallium he sometimes used in Potions. Ripples fanned out over the door in all directions, as the mountain, still solid, sank beneath the surface of the surrounding liquid like some primeval ship sinking beneath the waves.
Harry quickly withdrew his hand, only to see that it was, surprisingly, completely clean. He had expected some of the liquid silver to be pulled away.
As soon as the Harry's hand was removed, the party watched in awe as the ripples dissipated at the edges of the doors, leaving a mirror smooth, vertical lake of liquid silver.
Ragnok smiled and turned to Harry, bowing low, "After you, sir. You just step right through," Seeing Harry's hesitation, he added, "There is nothing to fear, this is just a family gate, they just give ancestral homes protection between the time of the death of one Head of House, and the time when the Heir can accept their inheritance."
Harry found himself thinking, for what felt like the tenth time today, 'Here goes nothing!' and with that, he walked through the portal into his ancestral home.
* Yes, his name is also spelled Athelstan, but this is the Normanized form. Aethelstan was the Anglo-Saxon and Welsh form. Since the magical community in Britain was more successful in preserving their heritage during the Norman Conquest, I will be using many old forms of Normanized names.
OK readers! I'm gonna need your input. Harry is going to inherit a familiar. Please help me decide! The choices are
Nundu
Cerberus
Dire Crow (like a large sentient Crow, able to blend into shadows, and can dissolve into a black mist)
I have deleted the earlier serpent-like choices. I have to agree with some of my readers, they have been done to death.
Note to Readers: REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW! I have no idea what you think if you don't review.
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