Chapter 3
Harry's Point of View
Gringotts Wizarding Bank building had always bore an element of intimidation.
When I first came to Diagon Alley all those years ago, it had been the only building to really frighten me. Sitting at the intersection that led into Knockturn Alley, the marble domain of the legendary Goblin Bankers of Wizarding Britain certainly wasn't the first thing in Diagon Alley of note, but it was certainly the very first thing that you saw. Towering over its small neighbors, it projected exactly what a bank should: safety and complete security of its items. If someone ever managed to pull off theft from this bank, it would damage the economy in a multitude of ways. It was fortunate that so far only Ron, Hermione and I had managed to pull off the only successful theft from the bank in its near five and half centuries of operation. Despite their disposition, I was sure the Goblins were thankful for it.
Tugging the hood of my robe up as I walked up the steps – I smiled slightly, I wondered if they had replaced the Ukrainian Ironbelly that used to guard the vaults. Did they find the one that we used to escape? What kind of security measures had they implemented since 1998? That was going to be one of my first acts when I assumed control of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. After all, who better to take security suggestions from then one of the few people to ever attempt a theft from the bank and actually get away with it?
Arriving at the top step and nodding my head in acknowledgement at the two goblin guards at the bronze-inlaid doors – I grasped the handles and flung them back. Even a decade later, I could still feel the magical damage that was inflicted on the building from the Dragon's fire. The odds were that Goblin's had extensively reconstructed the bank after the end of the war – I would too – the injustices that the Goblin's had endured under Voldemort, coupled with the humiliation of having their "impenetrable" bank robbed would probably cause them to take steps to protect themselves and their property from now on.
Yes, I could feel very extensive and very powerful Goblin Magic coursing through the very stone of the walls – had that always been there? When I last stepped through the doors, I had been an amateur wizard at best, so I couldn't have known? Very strange. If it had always been there, then I would suggest to the Head Goblin to lay more protection on the walls. If there were sensitive magical objects that Dark Wizards were after, then Gringotts would have to be impenetrable once again – if they weren't safe here, nowhere was safe.
In terms of expressing gratitude, the Malfoy Family was mixed at the skill.
Lucius was, as ever, irredeemably prideful, stubborn and pompous and I was sure that the thought of being grateful to me of all people would make him nauseous. Narcissa was far better at it, but still, she carried that sense of Black Family entitlement with her that made her just as annoying, but in an entire different way. Without her, I would be dead today and the Wizarding World would be in the grip of a madman. In return, I had secured her ticket from Azkaban, as well as her husband and son – I thought that had settled matters between us. However, about three months after their trial, I was approached by Narcissa on the matter of Black Family vaults and I knew that she placed more worth in her act of bravery then in my act of benevolence. According to her, we were not settled, far from it actually.
When Sirius died, he left everything in possession to me – including the title and privileges that came with being the Head of the House of Black. That included tight control of all of the assets of the House of Black, their properties, their heirlooms and their vaults in Gringotts.
I was already one of the richest Wizards in the world from my control of the Potter Family vaults, heirlooms and financial holdings, but when Sirius died and left me complete control of the Black Family fortune, including Bellatrix's vaults – which were legally under Sirius's control – I suddenly found myself the wealthiest wizard in the hemisphere and the third richest in the world. I was wealthier then the Malfoy Family had ever been its history, and far more powerful than they ever had been too. It shouldn't have been any surprise that someone like Narcissa would come to me. I was their only foreseeable option to stay afloat.
They were powerless and their family name was destroyed – no one would support them.
No one but me – but I was a fool back then.
Thankfully, I hadn't helped them.
Evidently, once the war reparations that Malfoy Family were ordered to pay were calculated in full, it equated to the total value of Malfoy Manor and then most of the Malfoy's financial assets. Narcissa came to me and "claimed" her "right" to the Black Family vaults, wanting to use that fortune to pay off her families debts. If she didn't, they would be forced to sell Malfoy Manor and everything in it – as well as sacrifice three quarters of their total wealth.
I gave her a completely unequivocal no.
That's why I got the Malfoy glares of death from Lucius and Narcissa when I entered the Head Goblin's office – but curiously, I received only a half glare from Draco. There was a certain half-heartedness behind it and it that really got my curiosity going. Was it because he was sitting conveniently out of his parent's sight, or were there no hard feelings for my actions. I would have expected him to be throwing curses at me from the moment I entered the room – if there was one thing that I knew about Draco Malfoy, it was that he was proud and his name was everything. The Malfoy Manor and their money was a part of their identity, and to loose most of it should have made him spitting made, but he didn't seem like it. Did he hit his head? Was there an accident in the past decade? I didn't know.
I knew why the senior Malfoys were angry with me, I had basically condemned them to reduce their lifestyle by seventy five percent and forced them to give up their ancestral family home. I really didn't know why Draco didn't seem to be that angry with me at all.
My information suggested that the Malfoy Family had rebounded slightly in the past decade, with Lucius anonymously investing his wealth in lucrative projects and creating decent streams of income. My information on Draco was sparse, but according to all my sources, he had earned his potions mastery by twenty one years old, naturally, and was doing quite well for himself. Perhaps that was why he wasn't nearly as angry with me as he should be.
Perhaps… perhaps he had learned humility and gained a work ethic in the past decade?
I doubted it.
Bloody fucking hell.
I was led to believe that when Andromeda was disowned, she had lost her claims to her portion of the family's fortune. I was wrong, so very wrong. There was not another explanation that could explain the fact that Andromeda had ten million galleons in her vaults here. Andy and her husband, hadn't stayed in our world during their marriage, she couldn't have earned it? Could she? Possibly. The Blacks were very, very good with making money.
"I'm ordering all trusts, assets and financial holdings be liquidated upon the time of my death and the monetary value of such trusts, assets and financial holdings to be bequeathed to my grandson, Edward Remus Lupin," The Head Goblin pronounced, his eyes never leaving the parchment. "Furthermore, all of the money that I leave to my grandson shall be cared for and overseen by my grandson's godfather, Harry James Potter, until Mr. Potter deems that he is a responsible man or until he reaches the age of twenty-five years old."
Shit.
I mean I would protect it, but she left everything to Teddy and she left it up to me to take care of it until I deemed that Teddy could take care of it. Sparing a glance over to the Malfoy Family, I almost wanted to laugh. Narcissa's face had taken on a red quality with what I assumed was outrage. I was under no illusions as to what she really thought of me, and despite the good that had come from the death of Lord Voldemort – I knew that it was unlikely to change. She was a Black and a Malfoy, she thought me unworthy to practice magic and she sure as hell didn't think that I was capable of taking care of large sums of-…
"This is an outrage!" Narcissa hissed – anger and spite dripping from her voice.
"Director, are you sure that this is wise? Mister Potter is not qualified to handle-…"
I snapped my head to Draco and gave him a withering glare – the fool! He thought that he still knew me. He thought that I was the same old Potter that had more strength then brains. What he thought, and what I was now, needed to be reconciled and I was not above doing it here. I mean, who were these people to still talk down to anyone else? Did they have no conception of what the Malfoy name meant nowadays? Did they not understand that most magical crimes in the world were not born out of a pureblooded fixation? Their time was over. In fifty years, being a "pure blood" would be completely irrelevant and an old thing. Having inbred and ancient families wouldn't mean jack to anyone in the world.
"And you are? Well, I suppose in a way you are," I narrowed my eyes at him, meeting that stereotypically frosty Malfoy-glare with one of my own. "You have a successful Potions business, it caters to people around the world and it caters to governments all over the world. You must be compensated very well – but I can assure you, Malfoy, that I am compensated with greater things. On top of the fact that I've been handling multi-million Galleon budgets for the past five years, I happen to be wealthier then you are, then all of you are. I'm sure that the Director can attest to the fact that I very good with money."
The Head Goblin nodded, "Mister Potter is one of our biggest clients."
I smirked and looked back to Draco, who looked positively disgusted, "That's our money that's made you so wealthy, and without it, you would be nothing, you still are nothing!"
"When you look it from your point of view, familial right – but legally, I was given the entire Black Estate by the Head of House of Black in his will, so your argument is invalid in front of a court. To your second point, I am many things Draco, but nothing isn't one of them," I grinned when the Malfoy Heir bristled at my cheerfulness, "But seeing you reminded me of something, in regards to your business – in time as DMLE Director in America, I noticed something very curious about your potions business. Your clients, they don't know that it's you that's making the products, do they? You know what would happen if they did, right?"
I didn't know that it was possible for someone to growl and pale at the same time.
My smirk turned into a grin, and I looked down to my fingernails in a gesture of nonchalant innocence, and indifference, to the very clear threats that I was receiving from all of them.
"It'd be a shame for someone to send anonymous letters to all of your clients, I am curious to see how many of them would run from you like the plague," Did he honestly think that that growl was going to scare me? "Get that expression of your face, it's very repetitive."
"Why you-…!" Draco yelled and flew up from his seat, his wand in his hand.
I scoffed, not even bothering to stand – and in a moment that clearly stunned all of the pointy aristocrats in the room, I simply waved my hand and Draco fell back into his chair under the force of my wandless magic. What shocked them even more though was the fact that when I snapped my fingers, his wand flew out of his hand and directly into mine. When I looked down to the hawthorn stick in my hand, I grinned – I'd returned this wand to him at the end of the war, against its wishes and now, through no fault of its own, it had found its way back to me, very curious. There was no telling how of much time it would have taken him to regain control over it – wands were tricky like that and most Wandlore masters, even after a millennia since they were first created, still hadn't answered the question. All of them agreed that in the days before the founding of Hogwarts, when most Wizards depended of staffs to channel their powers, things like this would never happen.
I could feel the wand bowing the weight of my power – and I couldn't help but smirk up at the absolutely gob smacked Draco when I flicked the wand at him and caused his chair to scoot several inches forward. That made three wands that were now under my control and I was seriously considering not returning this one to him – people didn't threaten me anymore. If they did, they suffered, when I swore that I'd ever been weak again, I meant it.
"I believe that Ollivander is selling wands at seventeen sickles at piece, a word of advice though Malfoy, get a wand that likes you, this one really didn't like you," I twirled the wand between my fingers and then turned back to the Head Goblin, who was looking distinctly uncomfortable at the spectacle. "Please continue Director, I have to go meet my godson."
I'd been told that he was staying with the Weasley Family at the Burrow. I was looking forward to that about as much as I was looking forward to an ulcer in my stomach. I wasn't too sure that my machinations with Ron and Hermione had been given enough time to work, but I was sure that once this happened, Hermione, at least would be able to put it together. If wasn't defended by Molly and Arthur, Teddy and I would have to leave quickly.
"Upon my death, I award sole guardianship of my grandson Edward Remus Lupin to his legally appointed godfather, Harry James Potter," The Goblin announced and I looked over to Narcissa, who had gone quiet since my display of power over her pathetic little boy.
I nodded and stood up from chair, it wasn't that I was bored of the will reading, it was just that I knew everything that I needed to know. I would not be content to sit in the presence of the Malfoys for any longer then I had to, "Good – is there anything else I'm involved in?"
The Head Goblin shook his head, "No Mister Potter, you may leave if you wish."
Shutting the door to the Director's office, I gripped Draco's wand in my hand and spelled the hood of my cloak over my head. No, I would not give it back to him – I knew he had enough money to replace it, but it was the principle behind it. The ridiculous man-child had turned his wand on me! On me! I had studied and practiced magic that he couldn't even fathom! There was no way in hell that I was going to be courteous to him after that insult.
"Potter!" The very distinctive and haughty voice of Draco Malfoy called from behind me.
Grinning slightly and stopping in my tracks, I turned on my heels and proceeded to take him, and I mean really take him in. He was the picture of the aristocracy and the total snobs of the old-wizarding families. Long black cloak, pointy features that had not softened with age – and most… interesting of all was his long blonde hair. In the style of his father before him, I assumed that if he didn't have it tied back with a green tie, it would fall right down to his shoulders. It was beautiful hair, and as much as I'm sure he'd love to hear those words come out of my mouth, I would rather walk around Diagon Alley in a tea towel then actually admit them. Admitting them would be admitting that I found Draco Malfoy…
What did I find Draco Malfoy?
He was certainly handsome – yes, and I would even go as far as to say that his Malfoy and Black looks merged together to create a pretty face. I would love to have him in my bed, and if I was drunk enough, or if I spontaneously forgot who he was, I might have even gone for it. Oh yes – despite his shining personality, Draco Malfoy looked to be a load of fun in the sack. Putting my hands on my hips, accentuating his captured wand, I smirked at him.
"What is it?" I asked, no – commanded, I could play his game.
"I'm prepared to beg for my wand," Draco responded, his voice quiet, as if it was a secret.
How very un-Malfoy like.
Didn't he understand that no one cared about such things? The little fool.
"Beg all you like, you raised your wand to me, no one raises their wand to me without suffering the consequences for it, and that includes you," I leaned forward, pointing his hand at his chest and poking him with it, "Time to get a new one, if he'll sell it to you."
That last sentence came out as more of a taunt then I wanted, but I couldn't take it back in time to not see the obvious hurt that flashed across his face. Ollivander was a naturally forgiving man, he had been his entire life – but for as long as they tortured him, I was confident that Ollivander would forever hold a grudge against this generation of the Malfoy Family. If Draco had children, I only hoped that Ollivander wouldn't punish the child.
"It seems that you've grown into an even bigger prick," Draco hissed venomously at me.
I shrugged flippantly, but genuinely, "Don't care – have a nice life Draco."
And, not missing the look of fiery outrage on his face, I turned back on my heels and departed the office corridor. His was the last of my concerns, Wizards could operate without wands and even then, very easily, especially someone from the Malfoy family – Draco Malfoy, I was sure, would have no trouble in procuring a replacement. What couldn't operate very well were orphans, and right now – I had an orphan to go and make happy.
It was the greatest gift that he could receive right now.
From one orphan, to another.
Potter had indeed changed.
My mother and father knew it too, but that was where our mutual opinion veered off into two opposite directions. They were convinced that Potter had become far more arrogant then he had ever been – and they were most certainly correct, but for the wrong reasons.
Oh yes, Potter was far more arrogant then he had ever been – but the difference between what my parents thought, and what I thought, was startling. They had not felt the full weight of Potter's wandless magic on them – they had not felt it hum within their bodies and they had not felt the nearly irresistible urge that it exuded for its victim to obey it's master. I knew two things about Potter's life in the past decade, I knew, that like a coward, he had run from all of the problems that had arisen in the country after the end of the war, and I also knew that he had assumed the second most powerful positon in the American Wizarding government. I would never admit it to anyone, not even myself, but I knew that Potter's arrogance was justified, if his accomplishments and power were anything to go by.
However, that was no excuse for him to keep my wand!
Staring at my front door in anger, I knew that I had two options – I would either have to climb in through the window, which would involve me breaking it, or I would have to ask for help. My parents had gone back to their Villa in the south of France – it was unlikely that they would have helped me anyway. That left two options and I loathed the idea of asking either of them for any sort of help, but it would be far more annoying to repair that window.
"Scorpius!" I shouted aimlessly at the building.
I didn't even know if my son was home – he was spending more and more of his time with Marcelo Zabini as the time of their entrance into Hogwarts got closer. Thought it did please me that he was finally making friends with the right people, it made things terribly complicated and terribly irritating when events like this happened. Putting my hands on my hips and silently counting down, if he didn't answer within the next twenty seconds, I would go to the Zabini House and get in that way. God, I hoped he didn't make me go down there.
"Father?" Scorpius's voice called out from the second floor and I almost jumped in joy when he opened the window and stuck his head out of it, "Father, why are you standing outside?"
I felt my irritation rise again, until I could procure a new wand, this was my life.
Damn him, damn Harry Potter.
"Never mind that," I commanded and pointed at the door. "The point is that I can't get in, if you'd please come down stairs and open the door for me, and please me quick about it."
Scorpius nodded and I smiled as he pulled back from the window.
He was such a good boy.
