Disclaimer: I make no money from this and I do not own anything related to Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Bloomsbury publishing own Harry Potter. So don't sue me, please.
Italics are thoughts Italics in "Quotes" are parsletounge"Just remember what I told you and you'll do fine."
Harry nodded, not really sure. He still didn't quite believe that he was a pureblood, but Marik said that he needed to get certain family heirlooms from Gringotts to make the Family Tapestry. His thoughts traveled along this vein for a while and then suddenly it hit him: Gringotts!
"Marik, how am I supposed to get into the vaults without the key?"
Marik looked surprised. "Oh! That's right, hold on just a minute." With that, he ran out of the room.
He returned a short while later, a small book with purple binding resting in his arms. He was smiling.
"I found it," he stated simply.
"Um, what exactly did you find?"
"This," said Marik, shoving it into his hands.
Harry looked at the cover. On it was a peculiar design that looked a lot like a pentagram except that the point on the right side was reversed, facing in and stopping just short of the left point. Harry looked at the symbol, puzzled. The book was obviously magical; that was easy to discern from the mere fact that the aforementioned symbol seemed to make sense, whereas if Harry had tried to draw it, he knew, it would end up looking horribly messy and jumbled. He puzzled over this for a few seconds before shaking his head. Magic could do anything.
"So what does this have to do with anything?"
Marik looked shocked for about a minute, but then he shook his head. "Of course you wouldn't know," he stated simply and then proceeded to explain. "The symbol on the front is the sign of the Goblin High Counsel. The book has been charmed so that if you press the symbol to your forehead and say the password, "Flesh withers and dies, but gold lasts forever," you immediately absorb the information in the book, which, conveniently, includes the goblin language, Goblin law, and the original Gringotts charter."
"And how will this help?"
"The goblins will make you go through a magical identity search to ensure that you are actually Harry J.E. Black-Potter."
"But why do I need to know the language?"
"To make them comfortable around you." He paused, gazing at Harry significantly. "You'll need to know the charter so that you can claim your property, and the head Goblins only speak Gobbledegook, so you'll need to know the language to speak to them."
Harry was a bit unsettled, but he shrugged it off. He was willing to do this, especially since, according to Marik, once he finally had all of his inheritance, he could do a lot more things publicly. Marik had even gone so far as to tell Harry that, with his ascension into power, he would have the power to have Fudge expelled from the ministry. This idea had made him feel a bit better about it. Plus, he could learn more about his family, which, much to Marik's displeasure, he knew next to nothing about. After Marik had discovered this, he was adamant that Harry go to Gringotts to get the heirlooms needed to make a Family Tapestry. Speaking of which…
"What heirlooms do I need to get?"
Marik smiled mysteriously and said, "You'll know which ones."
Harry glared at the old man. Do wizards naturally start to talk in riddles as they get older? Harry just shook his head and said, "So all I need to do is press the book to my head, say the magic words, and then I'm off to Gringotts?"
Marik nodded and Harry, feeling quite silly, pressed the book to his forehead, a little to the side of his scar and said, "Flesh withers and dies, but gold lasts forever." There was suddenly a feeling as if someone was trying to shove a brick into his brain. Then, just as quickly as it had happened, the pain faded away and Harry was left clutching his forehead. The book lay on the floor where he had dropped it.
Marik looked at Harry apologetically and said, "I'm sorry. I forgot how much instantaneous learning hurts. Has the pain gone away yet?"
Harry nodded distractedly. He was reviewing all of the thing he had just learned. Confused when he couldn't find the language, he asked Marik, "Are you sure that the language is in the book?"
Marik nodded. "It'll only come to you when you talk to a goblin or to another person who understands true Gobbledegook."
"What do you mean by 'true' Gobbledegook? Is there a false Gobbledegook?"
Marik smiled: "The Gobbledegook that most people can speak is actually a code language invented during the Goblin civil war. Apparently it was easier to understand than the actual language of Gobbledegook."
Harry smiled and said, "So I just go to Gringotts and demand an audience with the Head Goblins?"
Marik smiled back, his eyes gleaming with humor: "Yes, and I'm sure that it is just as hard as it sounds."
Harry nodded: "Okay I go and get the heirlooms, and I'm supposed to know what heirlooms to take even without ever seeing them and with no help from you whatsoever?"
Marik nodded: "Precisely."
Harry snorted and said, "You're mad."
"That is a possibility."
Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm going now; I'll be back soon."
"Oh, take your time. I have to go and yell at an old friend so don't hurry."
Harry nodded and walked out the front door to the crowded street of Diagon Alley.
Albus Dumbledore was in a state of panic. He didn't know how Harry had gotten to Marik's shop, but now the wards around his home were gone. He needed to be shipped back so that they could reinstate the protections that had been shattered by his leaving. Dumbledore had been pacing for hours trying to come to grips with this new information. Harry is a warlock. He needs two wands, which means that he's coming into his matured stage. What happens when he finds that I've been hiding more things from him?
He was still pacing when the fire got bigger, so he didn't notice the form of a very angry wizard coming out of the fire. Due to his lack of perception, he soon found himself bound and lying on the floor. He glanced up and saw that Marik was smiling at him rather sadistically.
"Did you know that Harry knows practically nothing about our people?" Marik frowned and lifted Albus up in the air so that they were face to face. "Did you know that he knows next to nothing about his family?" He smiled rather unbecomingly. Anger was evident in his eyes. "We will be having a discussion on the necessity of informing students about themselves." He smirked at Dumbledore: "I suggest that you get comfortable."
Harry walked into Gringotts. Apprehensively, he stepped into the line and waited. And waited and waited and waited. Unsurprisingly, when he finally got to the booth, he was a bit strung out. He walked up to the goblin nervously and was somewhat relieved when he recognized the goblin.
"Hello Griphook," he said pleasantly.
The Goblin looked startled: "Do I know you sir?"
Harry smiled and said, "You probably don't remember me, but you drove the cart down to my vault my first time in Gringotts."
Griphook scrunched up his face: "I'm afraid I don't recognize you, sir."
Harry lifted his bangs. "I'm Harry Potter."
Griphook nearly fell out of his chair. "Of course! I remember now. You came in with that big fellow, Hag beard or some such."
Harry smiled: "Actually it's Hagrid, but you were pretty close."
Griphook smiled back. "So, Mr. Potter, What can I do for you?"
Harry's smile drooped a bit. "I'd like to see my family vaults."
Griphook nodded in a sympathetic way and said, "Key please."
Harry looked at him and said in the exact tone that Marik had told him to use, "I need no key to get into my vaults."
Griphook grinned again, this time showing off numerous needle-like teeth: "So you'll be wanting to see the bosses then?" Harry nodded. "This way, please." The Goblin got off his chair, opened the little doors to Harry's left, and gestured for him to follow.
The bosses' room was a vast cavern with paintings of all sorts on the walls. Most of them were battle scenes but quite a few of them depicted small things like flowers, gold, and decapitated heads. Up ahead were five desks. Seated at them were some of the largest Goblins that Harry had ever seen. The one in the middle desk spoke:
"Whom do you bring to us, Griphook?"
Griphook bowed and said, "This is Harry Potter, sirs. He wishes to visit his family vault."
"Where is his key?"
"He says that he requires none, sir."
The Goblins chuckled, and the one farthest to the right said, "Boy, what makes you think that you don't need a key to enter a vault?"
Harry racked his brain and found the answer in the things he had learned from the book: "My blood is all that is required. My vaults have been here since there was a here and the lock opens only to my touch."
The Goblin that appeared to be the leader, as he was in the middle and had more jewels than the rest, looked at Harry sharply and said slyly, "You speak our language well, boy. Tell me, who taught you?"
Harry replied, "I learned it from a book." This answer seemed to be the right one, as the Goblins started to chuckle. The second one to the left pulled out a sheet of parchment and a knife.
"If you would be so kind as to bleed on this parchment so that you can prove you are you and so you can prove that you need no key."
Harry took the knife and paper from the goblin's hands. He stepped forward and set the parchment on the lead Goblin's desk. He pricked his finger with the knife and squeezed a few drops of blood onto it. The blood soaked into the paper and started to form words. The Goblin took the parchment and read aloud, "Harry James Evans Black-Potter, last heir of the Potter family, last heir of the Evans Family, last true heir of the Black family. Family vaults numbers 1,12, 23, and 46. Personal Vaults 3121, 1243, 987, 7149, and 234."
The Goblin finished and looked at Harry with something akin to awe. He rushed out of his chair and hurried to Harry's side. "Mr. Black-Potter! Forgive us for making you wait. Is there any way we can help you?"
Harry smiled. The Goblin's expressions were funny. "I just need a ride down to my family vaults."
The big Goblin nodded rapidly: "Yes sir. Is there anyone that you would like to have bring you down to your vaults or would you prefer that we choose someone?"
Harry looked at him confusedly: "I've never had a choice before; why do I have one now?"
The goblin looked nervous as he said hesitantly, "Sir, it says that one of your vaults is Vault number one. When Gringotts was founded, the goblins gave the owner of the building and the land vault number one. Before he died, he put all of his most valuable belongings into the vault and told us that when vault number one comes back into use, the one who is able to enter it is his rightful heir. So, essentially sir, you own Gringotts."
Harry stared at the goblin for a minute in shock. Surely he had not heard right. The Goblin couldn't have just said what Harry thought he had said.
The goblin, seeing his shocked disbelief, said, "I assure you this is no joke, we have the document in a pensieve if you would like to see it."
Harry just shook his head. "I just want to retrieve a few items from my vault. I'll come and talk to you later, ok?" The goblins nodded their assent. "Okay, could you have Griphook take me to my vaults now?" Again the goblins nodded and the lead one yelled loudly, "GRIPHOOK!"
Almost immediately the diminutive goblin appeared at the door. "Yes sirs?"
"Take Mr. Black-Potter to his family vaults. Here is the list of them."
Griphook took the sheet of parchment and glanced down. His eyes widened and he said, "Yes, of course. Come this way Mr. Po…Mr. Black-Potter." He glanced at Harry fearfully.
Harry cringed and said, "Just Harry, if you please."
Griphook nodded and said, "All right, then. This way…Harry." He gestured for Harry to follow and walked back into the main room and through to the back of the bank. Once there, they sat down and began their journey into the depths of Gringotts. After they had made a good distance down into the darkness, Griphook finally had the courage to ask the question that had obviously been plaguing him: "So, you're in vault one?"
Harry just nodded. Griphook nodded back and said, "You're full of surprises."
Harry smiled and said, "Let me assure you, it wasn't on purpose."
Griphook just nodded absently and continued to guide the cart along the track. Harry was a bit uncomfortable in the silence, so he continued to speak. "You know, I found out just yesterday that I was a part of all these families. Before I talked to Marik…Mr. Ollivander, I didn't know anything. I thought that my mother was Muggle born, but then Mr. Ollivander told me she was the daughter of a couple of Pureblood squibs, and I knew absolutely nothing about my father's family."
Griphook looked a little shocked. "You didn't know anything?"
"Nope, nothing and I didn't know any thing about the Black family either, but apparently Sirius Black and my father made a magical pact of some sort that made me his nephew or something. That was the biggest surprise because I didn't know anything about my original families, let alone my godfather's family." He paused and then smiled ruefully. "It's funny really. My Aunt Petunia is the world biggest Muggle, and it turns out that she is a halfblood squib."
Griphook looked startled by the change of subject, but then he chuckled appreciatively and looked around. The cavern had gotten a lot darker and much colder during their conversation. They were far down in the deep now. Griphook was the one to break the silence this time:
"Vault 46 is just around the bend. Hold on please."
Harry grabbed the edge and was glad that he had when they came to a swerving stop.
Harry looked at the vault door. It was a massive door of iron with nonexistent hinges.
Griphook stepped out of the cart and once again motioned for Harry to follow. They approached the door and Griphook stepped back. "Just place your hands on the family crest and the door will open."
Harry stepped close to the door. It was grimy from years of not being cleaned. Harry couldn't see the crest through the filth. "I wish Dobby were here."
Suddenly there was a large CRACK and a squeaky voice said, "You called Dobby, Sir?"
Harry twirled around. "Dobby! What are you doing here?"
Dobby just stared for a minute and said slowly, as if talking to a child, "Harry Potter called Dobby, so Dobby came. What can Dobby do for Harry Potter, Sir?"
Harry recovered from the shock of seeing his small friend and said, "Well I need help. I need to touch the crest to open the door, but I can't find the crest because the door's filthy."
Dobby smiled and said excitedly, "Harry Potter needs Dobby's help with cleaning his door?" Harry nodded his affirmation and was surprised when Dobby's eyes started to tear.
"If you don't want to, you don't have to. I was just thinking out loud anyway. I didn't mean to upset you."
Dobby shook his head. "Dobby is happy that Harry Potter wants his help. Dobby is not upset, sir. Dobby is happy that Harry Potter thought to call for Dobby."
Harry processed this and said, "Okay, so how much do you want to get paid for the door…wait, I have to make a few more stops; do you want to help with those too?" Dobby nodded. "So how much do you want to get paid?"
Dobby shook his head and said, "Dobby is not needing paying for helping Harry Potter. Dobby is very happy to help Harry Potter."
Harry smiled and said, "Are you sure?"
Dobby nodded again, and Harry smiled wider and said gratefully, "Thanks a lot, Dobby." Dobby smiled a toothy smile that seemed to be a trademark of the elvish race and said, "No problem, Harry Potter sir. Would you please step back?" Harry stepped back to stand by Griphook. They both watched in awe as Dobby seemed to glow with magic. Suddenly there was a flash and Dobby rushed toward the door. Another flash and the door was shining, as Dobby stood in front of it grinning.
"Is that good, Harry Potter sir?" Harry nodded dumbly and approached the door.
He asked, "How did you do that?"
Dobby smiled, "If wizards knew the house elf secrets, what use would they have for house elves?" He smiled again, this time mysteriously.
Harry just shook his head and said, "Thanks Dobby."
He approached the door and saw the crest right in the center of the door. Harry looked at it closely. He recognized the Black family crest; it was a black snake with silver diamonds on its back. Harry was about to press his hand to the door when he pulled back. He thought he had seen the snake move; he had felt it move. He stared at it, and then he asked Griphook, "How long since anyone has opened this door?"
Griphook stepped forward and ran his hand down the length of the door. He stopped and he looked at Harry, puzzled. He said, "It's been about 200 years."
Harry looked at the door, considering. He reached to touch the serpent, but he again pulled his hand back. He shrugged and said to the snake, "Open." He was a little surprised when the snake replied, "Yes, master." The door shimmered for a second, and then it disappeared. Billowing green fog rushed out of the vault; when it faded, Harry was left staring in awe. He glanced back and he saw expressions of awe on the goblin and the elf's faces as well. He turned back to the vault and just looked.
The room was vast, and almost every inch was covered with gold and jewels. There were treasure chests and huge shelves holding vast amounts of books. Harry was particular pleased with the books; he had wanted to study the counter curses to many of the curses that Voldemort and his Death Eaters were likely to use and his school books could help only so much.
Knowing the Black family more than half of these books are about or pertaining to the dark arts. Harry grinned at this thought. It was amazing that a family so obsessed with the Dark arts and with purity of blood had raised a good man like Sirius. His eyes moistened a bit, and he wiped the tears away before they could begin to flow. He looked around again and walked into the vault. He walked over to the largest pile of gold and started digging through it.
Dobby asked from somewhere behind him, "What are you looking for, Harry Potter sir?"
Harry shrugged and said, "I have no clue. I just know that I'll know when I find it." He continued to dig. He could hear Dobby wandering around and struggling to tidy up the piles of gold when his hand hit something. He submerged his other hand and pulled on the object and then fell backwards, pulling the object with him. He hit the floor with a thud and winced as an iron-wrought trunk fell on his chest. He was a bit surprised that it hadn't damaged him when it landed, and he winced again as he pushed it off.
Sitting up, he found that the chest was very old and dented in almost all of its corners. He sat down in front of it and was happy that the chest hadn't killed him. It was huge! He shook his head. Must have feather light charms on it. He looked at the chest. It had the same crest on it as the door, so Harry spoke again: "Open."
The snake on the chest replied, "How do I know that you are my master?"
Harry asked, "What proof do you need?"
The snake hissed, "A drop of blood is all I need."
Harry groaned; what was it with blood today? He shook his head and looked at the cut that he had given himself in the Goblin Bosses' cavern. It was closed. He dug around his pocket a bit until he found a quill. He took it out and pressed it against his previous cut, cringing as the quill reopened his wound. He dripped a few drops of blood onto the snake. The blood disappeared into the snake.
The snake was silent for a minute and then it said, "It is good to see you, Master." The chest opened, and Harry saw a shiny light. He covered his eyes but could see sparkles through his eyelids. When the light died down, Harry opened his eyes and gasped when he saw what was in the chest.
A sword and a dagger perfectly matched. The Sword had a blade about a yard long. The handle was a simple one except for the snake carved into it. The dagger had a serpentine handle and a six-inch blade. Both of the weapons had emerald encrusted handles.
But the most amazing thing was that on the blade of the dagger was written the name Salazar Slytherin.
