-Aside from OCs and AUs, everything is the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling-

-IV- Flying Home-

Dinner that evening was surprisingly relaxed, with conversation flowing easily and Aunt Mim, if not quite as obviously taken with Sirius as he was with her, seeming to appreciate the attention nonetheless.

Sirius had brought his case with him, and they were in the restaurant of the hotel where Harry and Aunt Mim were staying, so it was easy enough to leave straight after coffee and drive out to the plane. They were able to get a takeoff slot quickly, Aunt Mim having phoned the pilots as soon as Harry joined her in the city, and within a couple of hours they were out over the Atlantic.

Waking early the next morning to find his aunt working and his godfather still asleep, Harry contemplated how he was going to broach the subject of Remus with Sirius. To be honest he really had no idea how his godfather would react, and was finding it difficult to be objective when he wasn't entirely sure that he'd forgiven his tutor himself. His Aunt smiled up at him as he passed her to reach the buffet that had been set up. Putting a couple of croissants on a plate and pouring a glass of orange juice, Harry decided to be blunt with Sirius and let Remus and him sort, or not sort, out everything between themselves. It wasn't really his place to mediate between friends who'd known one another longer than he'd been alive. Well, unless it got violent.

Harry was just finishing his breakfast when Sirius began to stir. He seemed confused for a brief moment before relaxing when he saw Harry.

"Morning," he said gruffly, before asking, "how long until we land?"

Harry checked his watch. "About three hours now, as long as we don't have hold at the airport.

"That shouldn't be a problem," Aunt Mim interrupted, "ATC wouldn't dare make me fly around in circles."

"That one in San Francisco did," Harry reminded her drily.

"Not the second time." She returned calmly.

Harry grinned at her before returning his attention to Sirius, who was now sitting with a plate of food. Well, let's get this over with, he thought, sighing internally.

"Sirius, you remember the tutor I told you about, who's been living with us, and finding others to help teach me?"

Sirius nodded curiously. "Yes, I meant to ask you about them, actually."

Here we go. "His name is Remus Lupin."

Sirius' pureblood training couldn't hold back his look of astonishment.

"Remus?" He gasped out eventually, looking delighted.

"Yes, I know you were friends at Hogwarts," Harry said cautiously, masking his confusion.

Sirius was grinning broadly. "I had no idea he was still alive; I didn't come across any whispers when I was searching for you."

Harry understood then, and waited for the comprehension he could see slowly dawning on Sirius' face.

"He didn't protest." Sirius said slowly. "He saw me sent to Azkaban and believed I'd betrayed James and Lily."

Harry nodded slowly at the broken words.

Sirius dropped his head into his hands and moaned softly. Harry saw his Aunt look up concernedly from the corner of his eye, but she went back to her laptop when he gave her a smile and nod of reassurance.

"I'm sorry," he began inadequately. "He read your letter, and he did believe you immediately from that."

Sirius shook his head. "He betrayed me. He believed that I betrayed them. The one thing I would never do."

Harry wanted to get up and embrace his godfather, but knew he had to work through this on his own, at least partly, before having to face Remus. He felt guilty for dumping all of this on Sirius so close to the inevitable confrontation, but hadn't really wanted to spoil his reunion with his godfather the previous day. At least he could break down here in private, and have a chance to compose himself before they landed.

Harry had debated telling Remus about Sirius' coming with them when he'd called last night before taking off, but Remus had moved on from guilt to self-pity it seemed, and he'd been sufficiently irritated by his whining to not bother.

The time difference meant that they landed in Lima around breakfast time. Sirius had calmed down somewhat, and assuaged Harry's guilt over dragging him halfway to Peru before telling him about Remus. They found Remus in the living area when they reached the flat. He stood and smiled at Harry as he came in, taking a step forward. He fell back when he saw Sirius following him, preceding Aunt Mim.

"Harry..." He gasped out, turning to him desperately.

Before Harry could respond Sirius had stepped in front of him. "Remus." He growled. "I take it we can go somewhere to talk?" He asked Harry, turning his head towards him. Harry nodded and indicated the spare study they kept most of their magical library in, and where Remus sometimes worked.

He watched as his tutor and friend was dragged off by his godfather before facing Aunt Mim, who was looking at him with a certain amount of concern, but had masked any curiosity she might be feeling. He smiled at her reassuringly.

"We'll let them sort it out. The wards should stop anyone getting seriously injured."

She nodded. "I'll need to change, but then I should get to the office. We've got a couple of complications. Don't worry" She reassured when he started frowning, "it shouldn't be a significant problem, and I hope to still be in England within the fortnight."

"I trust you." He said, smiling. "I'll probably spend a week preparing myself. I've no idea what's going to happen with Sirius and Remus, but I think both of them were planning to come over with me." His smile widened. "If we have to separate the children then you can take Remus."

She smiled back, "Fine," and then went to swap suits.

Harry went back to his room to check a few points he'd highlighted in the political commentary sections of the Daily Prophets he'd read in Switzerland against the almost complete collection of English Ministry Statute Books he and Remus had managed to collect.

His being keyed into the wards allowed him to keep something of an eye on Remus and Sirius, and he knew that, past the initial contact where Remus was basically dragged away, they hadn't touched one another. Even without listening to the wards, however, he could hear the shouting through the apparently defective muggle soundproofing.


Harry spent the week in a blizzard of preparation, carefully plotting his return. He mixed long conversations with Sirius, whom he had quickly come to consider a second guardian, about pureblood rituals and customs that he'd been unable to find in even the most obscure books, with hours of research, fitting his plans to the political realities of the situation reported by the Prophet. Remus moped around; Harry and Sirius ignoring him seemed only to have deepened his sense of self-pity.

By the Monday after returning from Switzerland, Harry had decided himself ready. Both Sirius and Remus had absolutely refused to stay behind, or come on separate planes. Harry briefly debated booking them onto a normal flight, and putting Remus in economy, but decided he wasn't really that mean, and had managed to book a jet with a separate bedroom anyway, so he could lock one of them up if necessary. Part of him found Sirius and Remus' apparently childish behaviour faintly amusing, whilst the rest of him sat firmly on Sirius' side, particularly as the frantic remorse Remus had demonstrated after reading the letter since seemed to have become a mixture of the self-righteous and the defensive.

Anyway, when they boarded the plane that evening, Harry reclined one of the comfortable chairs and forced himself into sleep, unwilling to listen to fourteen hours of bitching, but setting up a ward that would wake him if it detected any violent movements or serious injuries.

When he woke he found the other two sleeping quietly, neither having retreated to use the bed aft, and the plane over flying over the Bay of Biscay. It would be early afternoon when they touched down, so Harry settled down to stare out of the window towards the country he hadn't seen in eleven years. He concentrated on resetting his body with magic, soothing away any vestiges of jet lag. He would need the full measure of his concentration to assimilate with the Potter wards.

He woke his two companions shortly after, so that their magic could readjust them smoothly too. The day was gorgeous, with the bright sunlight reflecting merrily off the gentle waves in the Channel. Sirius' voice drew Harry reluctantly away from the sight.

"Harry. Remus has apologised to me."

Harry rolled his eyes as he grinned at them. "Thank Merlin. Remus, I apologise for ignoring you and, although I still absolutely hate what you did, I forgive you for whatever might exist to forgive."

Remus' nervous-hopeful look relaxed into a smile. "Thank you." He paused. "I should tell you that I've decided to apply for a teaching post at Hogwarts this year. I'll be able to help keep you safe, and to keep an eye on Dumbledore."

Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you sure that's wise? It's basically inevitable that Dumbledore will find out that you've been with me all these years. He is not going to like a member of the Order of the Phoenix having kept things from him; he'd only employ you so he could keep an eye on you."

Remus nodded. "You know that you can trust my Occlumency, however. We can at least delay his suspicions by me applying after you've made your return public; I can pretend to have been in hiding and lured back by your reappearance. After that it shouldn't seem odd that we become close when I was such a good friend of your parents."

Harry thought this over quickly before agreeing; it would be good to have Remus nearby in spite of the risks.

"I take it it's DADA you'll be applying for?"

Remus nodded again. "It's what I'm best at, and they've only got a couple of professors in the department at the moment. I have the necessary qualifications, and a history of blind obedience to the Light that Dumbledore can milk if my being a werewolf gets out." He said logically.

"And what do I get to do when I manage my freedom?" Sirius whined from his seat.

"You were the one who was so eager to get out of the responsibilities of being Lord Black. Perhaps you could take up bingo?" Harry suggested sweetly. "It's a muggle game played by elderly ladies," he explained when Sirius looked confused.

Comprehension dawned faintly. "It's the one with the numbers, yes?"

"Probably. Anyway, you could always rejoin the aurors?" Harry suggested more seriously.

Sirius snorted. "Amelia's not bad with the DMLE, but Kingsley was always useless, and now he's in charge of the aurors. They haven't been well-lead since Mad-Eye was forced to choose between paperwork and retirement."

Harry found himself slightly exasperated. "You mean you spent a year on the run, plotting your return, and never gave any thought to what you would do once you actually had returned?"

Sirius scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "I didn't really think much beyond finding you and getting you to believe me."

Harry grinned at Sirius in spite of himself. "I'm flattered by the importance you give me, but you should probably think about what you want to do before you end up bored out of your mind."

"I thought you wanted me to spend all of my time with a psychiatrist?"

Harry sighed; professional help was something Sirius kept insisting he wasn't in need of. "It gives you something to do," he pointed out. "How about we make a deal? I'll find you a psychiatrist and you'll meet with them a couple of times a week. When you find yourself something to do full-time then we'll drop the sessions."

Sirius narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously, but gave in with a sigh. "Fine, if it'll give you some peace of mind."

"That's what I hope the counselling will do for you." Said Harry.

Sirius grunted and Harry returned to admiring the warmly lit countryside beneath them; even if was only the muggle parts of Britain.

They took a car into London and had it drop them off outside of The Leaky Cauldron, which Remus assured Harry was the most discreet muggle entrance onto Diagon Street. Harry arranged for the driver to park somewhere and wait for them whilst they went to Gringotts, trusting magic to keep their luggage secure in the muggle world. They'd decided to clear Harry's business with the bank before risking committing to staying in England without that security.

The pub was dusty and dimly lit when they entered, but Harry could feel the strength of the muggle repelling charms as an increasing prickle against his skin as they moved through towards a courtyard at the back where Remus tapped a series of bricks in a wall.

Harry felt slightly intoxicated by the strength of the ambient magic as they stepped through the newly formed archway and into the broad and sun soaked avenue beyond. They'd joined Diagon Street towards the bottom, a few shops up from the junction where it divided into another, marginally less respectable street which led eventually to Knockturn Alley, and the beginnings of a smart residential district.

Diagon Street itself was neatly paved in granite and lined with impressive lime trees. The shops, many brightly painted, all seemed to be neatly kept. The main shopping street of magical London was, unsurprisingly for one of the largest settlements in the magical world, packed with people. Harry was immediately thankful that the three of them had gone to particular trouble with their glamours.

Remus and Sirius chatted away happily as they walked up towards Gringotts, whilst Harry enjoyed the atmosphere with only half an ear on their conversation. Most people spared the three of them, handsome, but not unusually so under their glamours, barely a glance.

They reached Gringotts eventually, a broad neoclassical edifice in ivory marble. The uniformed goblins on either side of the doors eyed them carefully as they entered. Harry heard Sirius and Remus gasp on either side of him as their glamours were dragged forcibly away. He held his for a moment, testing the strength of the enchantments before he let it fade painlessly.

The silver framed pair of doors they went through into the huge lobby sang with powerful wards, bound deeply into the earth and stone beneath the building, tied to the blood and bone of the Harak clan that ran the bank's British branch.

They stepped onto the polished parquet to find themselves ushered off into an anteroom by a waiting goblin before they could draw the attention of the couple of score wizards queueing. Remus extricated himself quickly, satisfied that Harry was safe in the bank and deciding that this was business best conducted without his presence.

"Lord Potter-Black, Mr Black" The goblin addressed Harry and Sirius, bowing slightly, once his guests were seated. "I will inform Thistledown that you have arrived; she would have been waiting for you herself had she known the time of your proposed arrival." He finished, looking as anxious as a goblin could.

"That's not a problem," Harry said warmly, "I said today in my letter, but didn't have much idea what time we would make it. I am instead delighted to have made your acquaintance in her place."

The junior goblin looked confused and left; flattery was not something their race tended to deal in. A couple of minutes later they were joined by the first female goblin Harry had ever encountered. She was as tall as he judged the average male to be, and he thought her long brown hair, tied back into a neat ponytail, looked peculiar against her wrinkled greenish face. The dark eyes, however, were sharp with intelligence, though the warmth they also held seemed genuine enough.

He rose with Sirius to greet her, extending a hand as they eyed one another before inclining their heads, her marginally more than him.

"Trader Thistledown."

"Lord Potter-Black. Might I invite you to adjourn to my office, with your companion, of course." She added, acknowledging Sirius.

He nodded, and followed her silently through the door she had entered by, and along a brightly-lit and thickly carpeted corridor to a spacious and well appointed office, window noticeably unenchanted and showing an excellent view of the elegant street outside. They were indicted towards a pair of comfortable chairs in front of the large desk, Thistledown waiting for them before taking her own seat.

"I am honoured to have been kept on as the manager of your investments." She began. "I am also led to understand that I am to take instruction with regard to the Black vaults?"

"You are. My aunt and I have both been impressed by the statements we have seen, Sraga-Rem."

She smiled thinly at the epithet; translating roughly to 'Wise-One' it was considered the highest form of praise reserved for financial merit alone amongst the goblin tribes.

"The Potter assets we hold," she began, "are divided, well, the ones with a financial value we can accurately assess, between the few galleons held in the vaults we can access, the stakes in various companies Potters have made and trusted the bank with knowledge of and limited control over, the property portfolio you have here in London and we manage, and the monies I trade with the director's permission in your name."

Harry nodded. "You can give me rough percentages?"

She smiled. "Exact ones, accurate to this morning. The long-term shareholdings amount to seventy three point three percent of the total value, the properties, we think, to twenty and a half percent, the monies I trade fluctuate in real terms on a daily basis, but I can access five percent of the total value. The remainder is the completely liquid capital in the vaults."

He nodded again. "I've reviewed the list of the long-term holdings the bank sent me, and these..." he continued, passing across a few sheets of parchment, "are the ones I would like to be liquidated, though not rapidly enough to disrupt the price. These..." he handed over another page, "are the companies I would like to increase or gain holdings in. The stock percentage targets should all be there, as well as the maximum buy prices."

Thistledown nodded as she studied the lists. "These aren't the sort of investments I specialise in, but I will have it arranged. You seem to have covered everything most comprehensively."

Harry continued, withdrawing yet another parchment from the nondescript robe he was wearing. "This is authorisation to give you access to seven percent of the total funds for market trading. I think the standard commission you currently take is reasonable, but I've also detailed targets which, if achieved, will give you a generous bonus."

She actually smiled at that. "I am grateful for your trust, Lord Potter-Black, and will endeavour to repay it."

"I would expect nothing less." He said gravely. "I understand the property holdings comprise largely of two squares of houses near the Ministry?" He asked.

"I believe so. I represent your interests within the bank, and have familiarised myself for this meeting, but do not actively manage any of the property myself. I have been informed by my colleague that most of the houses are held by senior Ministry employees on short-term leases."

"That seems fine." Harry agreed. "My written permissions were sufficient to furnish you with the Black asset lists and outstanding instructions?"

"They were. I have copies here for you," she said, pulling a couple of thick folders from a drawer of the desk.

"Thank you. I'll review these and send on instructions. Would you be able to summarise the Black policies as they were before everything was liquidated or frozen?"

She nodded. "The Blacks were largely mistrustful of goblin wisdom, and we suspect that much of the family's wealth was never held by Gringotts at all."

Sirius interjected. "That's probably true; my father at least was paranoid, and they wouldn't have locked themselves up during the War with their gold stashed in London."

Thistledown continued. "Nonetheless, the Blacks still have some gold in the investment vaults, although again the contents of the main vault are unknown to us. None of their gold was entrusted to any of our traders; about half was kept in vaults, twenty percent in investments made in the twenty years before Greydoor's death, which we subsequently sold off, and the remaining thirty comprises a few properties in London, and investments made by members of the Black family itself, which we have no right to do more than hold and do what we can to preserve the value of."

Harry nodded. "I'll need a couple of bearer books." He noted. "I take it you can have one prepared that will draw on the Potter vaults, and another for the Black?"

"Of course. One has been printed for you already for the Potter accounts." Thistledown said, picking up a bound stack of parchment leaves about the same thickness as, but significantly larger than the muggle chequebooks Harry was used to. "I'll have one in the Black name prepared and sent on to you."

"Thank you, now," Harry continued, "would it be possible to have someone take me to the main Potter and Black vaults?"

She nodded briskly. "Certainly. I'd take you myself, but I don't actually have the authorisation to go to the deepest vaults."

They were taken to another office to meet Bronzechain, an impressively tall and muscular looking middle-aged goblin who introduced himself as the bank's Chief of Security, before marching them off down a series of corridors and flight of steps, eventually reaching a large cart well lit with lamps and comfortably furnished with cushioned seats.

Harry and Sirius both found the ride exhilarating, the torches on the cave-like walls of the tunnel guttering at the speed of their passage. They passed underneath a waterfall, the magic of whose waters Harry felt claw aggressively at the glamour on his forehead. Luckily it had been settled there long enough, and was a strong enough and small enough blood-bound spell, to hold firm.

The track ended when they were several hundred feet underground, and Bronzechain had them stand and walk through a huge cavern where a milk-white dragon was curled up against the wall. The dragon's enormous pupils eyed them curiously, having settled from its slightly raised position after identifying Bronzechain.

The far side of the cavern held a heavy iron gate. A key which Bronzechain appeared to conjure from thin air dealt with that, and they proceeded into a broad passage lined on either side with vault doors, a second mine track running down its centre.

Their escort ushered them into a second cart, identical to the first, and they set out as quickly as before, past the vaults of the wealthy before dropping down a steep incline. This journey was much shorter, and finished when the cart arrived before an entrance blocked by bars of sickly green magic.

They stepped out to face it, and Bronzechain graced them with a positively demonic grin. "Every bar a trapped killing curse," he chuckled to them, drawing a live mouse from his pocket and tossing it at the gate. It dropped limply to the ground as soon as it came into contact. Harry forced his face into immobility as he watched the gate swing open.

"Only a very specific type of mouse upon which certain enchantments have been cast by myself would satisfy the gate," Bronzechain assured them as they stepped through into a vast circular room, its high ceiling a smooth dome and its floor darkly gleaming polished granite.

"The vaults of the Twenty." Bronzechain declared, indicating the doors that ringed the room.

"The Potter vault first, please," Harry requested. Bronzechain nodded briskly and led them to a door halfway around the left side. A statue of a griffin stood in the bronze mass, rear half sunk into the metal, but with enormous eagle's head and lion's forelegs visible. The head rose as they approached and ruby eyes blinked open to study them.

Eventually they settled on Harry and indicated him forward. He stepped into the reach of the creature and instinctively raised his hand. The huge beak slashed forwards, carving a significant gash into Harry's palm. He froze, keeping his hand extended as he blocked the pain and watched the creature's metallic tongue lick the blood from the edge of its beak. The flavour seemed to be contemplated for a few moments before the head nodded slowly and the creature sank back into the metal.

Harry stepped forwards cautiously, pressing his miraculously healed hand against the cool, flat surface. The whole door melted away at his touch.

"I take it it worked?" Sirius asked.

It took him a couple of moments to realise that neither Sirius nor Bronzechain had seen the door disappear. He took that to mean that they wouldn't be able to enter either.

He stepped through the archway and into a big rectangular room sheathed in pale green marble. A number of doors led off from the main vault, and large chests and delicate tables topped with glass display cases filled the spaces in between. A circular table dominated the centre of the room. The sole object that stood on it had been the focus of Harry's attention from the moment he entered.

A lightly tanned hand, still with wrist and several inches of forearm attached, reached up out of a marble slab, fingers loosely extended.

He approached it slowly, realising exactly why it was there. Sirius' words from the letter came back to him. 'The ring itself cannot be removed from the finger of the last Lord by any but the new.' He stared at his father's right hand, flesh youthful and unmarred by decay. The House ring would normally be taken by the heir from the finger of the Lord upon the inheritance, be that at some decided point before their death, or immediately following it. He assumed that in the case of the mantle not being picked up immediately then the ring itself would take steps, namely severing the limb it was attached to from the body and transporting itself to a place it considered safe and accessible to the heir.

He reached out to pull the ring from his father's finger. It tingled slightly when he touched it, but slipped free easily, apparently eager to unite with its new owner. He examined it in his palm for a few moments; an elegant gold band, the rich yellow of a pure carat hardened from impractical softness with magic, surmounted by a large, blood red, rectangular diamond. The stone had the rampant griffin of the Potters minutely engraved into its face.

He drew in his breath and cleared his mind before putting the ring onto his right ring finger. The band immediately tightened to create a perfect fit, but too much information was flooding his head to pay any particular attention. The enchantments on the ring's stone scanned his head gently.

Once the ring had judged him it stepped back and allowed his mind to be swamped, becoming a conduit. He sensed the larger Potter properties reaching out to him, cocooning him in their wards, expanding his mind with the knowledge of their secrets. The process was interesting, and not at all painful as the partially sentient ring and properties seemed actively eager to meet him, interested in this new activity after a decade of loneliness.

Sirius had told him he was happy to wait for as long as it took, but Harry didn't want to leave him alone for too long. With this in mind, and once the hum of wards and information had died down into a gentle stream that could be redirected into his subconscious with Occlumency, he went to briefly explore a few of the rooms that the polished mahogany doors in the walls led to. He noted that his father's hand had disappeared; presumably the ring's last independent act of magic having been to apparate it back to the rest of the body, though how it managed that past Gringotts' wards was anyone's guess.

Behind a couple of the plain doors were dozens of suits of exquisitely enamelled armour, and robes and dresses made of the finest samites and softest furs. The remainder of the rooms contained fitted cases that stretched up to the ceiling, stacked with thousands upon thousands of musty scrolls. Harry assumed that they comprised the library his ancestors had brought to Britain from Rome.

When he exited the main room he found Sirius sprawled comfortably in a conjured chair, Bronzechain standing stolidly to one side.

"All done?" His godfather called cheerfully.

Harry nodded, showing him the ring.

Sirius eyes darkened slightly as he remembered the man on whose finger he had last seen it, but he smiled nonetheless.

"Right!" He continued excitedly. "Black vault next."

He led Harry and Bronzechain across the room to the door immediately left of the one they had entered via. Harry rolled his eyes internally as he waved a hand to vanish the chair Sirius had apparently completely forgotten about.

The Black vault's door was darker than a moonless night. The unknown metal gleamed in the light of the brightly burning torches that ringed the room. The enormous shadow panther that guarded the vault slid its polished head smoothly out of the surface and eyed them calmly through glowing green eyes.

Sirius gestured Harry forward impatiently. "I doubt she'll accept my blood anymore," he began, before explaining, "The magic never fully bound itself to me because I had no opportunity to take the ring after my father's death. It should have, like the Potter ring, managed to transport itself to the vault. Any of the Black properties it would deem itself safe enough at would be difficult to access without it."

Harry stepped forward and once more extended his hand. A gleaming white fang sank delicately into the tip of his middle finger. The panther looked him over slowly as it tested his blood. The eyes widened suddenly, and Sirius, who had been watching intently, burst out laughing.

"She knows you're a halfblood!" He exclaimed. "I never thought I'd see her actually shocked."

The guardian ignored Sirius and slid back into the metal.

"I take it you'll still be able to come in?" Harry asked his godfather.

"As long as you permit me, yes. Once you put on the ring you should be able to control entry, although it's nigh-on impossible for anyone not with the actual family blood to enter one of these vaults. Luckily you're a quarter Black by blood, or Adica here," he said, tilting his head towards the door the panther had disappeared into, "would likely have been more suspicious."

Harry pressed his hand against the surface of the door, as he had done with the first. It also melted away before his eyes, and he stepped forward into a large circular room, floor of gleaming obsidian, cave-rough walls curving up from it to form a dome. Despite expecting the hand that sat in the centre of the floor, Harry couldn't help but start a little at the sight of the ghost-white limb lying limply against the stone, cast into sharp relief by the light of the enormous iron chandelier hung from a chain in the centre of the ceiling.

The room was otherwise completely bare. Harry knelt in front of the hand, which was clearly that of a man who had been much older than his father at the point of his own death. A black diamond surmounted a brilliant platinum band, which formed the body and tail of an exquisitely detailed panther. The cat's face was caught in the stone's relief carving.

The ring slipped off easily enough, but felt unnaturally cold. He spent a moment debating where to put it before sliding it onto his right middle finger; the one where 'Adica' had made her incision. It flared with heat suddenly and he gasped quietly as cold claws raked his mind. This was not the curiosity of before, but a hard-edged and thorough search of his mind and being. He let the enchantments have free reign, not entirely sure how to use Occlumency against them.

The ring eventually clinked with a sense of faint approval, and he felt it resize to his finger in the moment before it allowed his mind to be flooded with the knowledge of wards and family secrets it gave access to.

The Blacks were, as he had gathered, clearly less trusting of the goblins than the Potters. The three doors equally spaced around the room led to an empty library, shelves delicately chiselled from the rock itself, a cavernous and completely empty room opposite the entrance, and a smaller chamber which contained only a couple of chests full of silver chalices and instruments he recognised with some distaste as being used in some of the more questionable old blood rituals.

He returned to Sirius and Bronzechain, giving Sirius permission to enter. His godfather stepped in, glanced around the empty rooms dismissively, seemingly unsurprised at their state, and then grinned when he saw the ring on Harry's finger.

"Looks good on you, pup," he said cheerfully.

"Pup?"

Sirius shrugged dismissively even as he nodded. "You're the son of a Marauder. I'm your godfather, and my animagus is a dog. That makes you pup."

"I'm not entirely sure I follow," Harry said, before continuing archly, "would that make a daughter of yours 'bitch'?"

Sirius laughed. "I suspect I'll never find that one out, anyway, my mother is the bitch."

"Is?"

Sirius rolled his eyes dramatically. "She's dead, but she spent years pouring as much of herself as she could into one of her portraits. I have no doubt that that portrait still exists and is going to be a nightmare to get rid of."

"I'm sure we'll get along fine." Harry assured him.

"Good luck with that." Sirius said darkly.

Harry checked his watch to find it still early in the afternoon. "Let's find Remus and get the bags then. I take it you still know the hotels here?" He asked, knowing Sirius had lived in London with his family for most of his youth before the War.

Sirius nodded.

Bronzechain, who had waited silently whilst they talked, took them back up to the surface. Harry told Sirius to reapply his glamour, even as he drew his own into place. Sirius frowned, but did as instructed. As Sirius finished casting the spell Harry extended his own magic and, with Sirius' slightly confused permission, bound the glamour to his own.

They walked out together, and Harry kept the link supported until they'd passed safely through the doors designed to strip concealment charms, before releasing it.

Sirius raised an eyebrow at him curiously. "That was... interesting." He said questioningly.

"It doesn't work with many spells, I don't think, but then I haven't really experimented. I found the idea in the old journal of a man who used to be part of a team of thieves. He didn't really put down anything explicit, so I had to experiment quite a bit before getting it to work, but they effectively bound their concealment charms to the thief who was best at them, or magically the strongest, and as long as they consciously maintained them as well, and there weren't too many bound to the one person, then as long as the subject could keep their own charms up, then the others would stick as well. As I understand it, it was actually designed for doorways like that one in Gringotts, although I don't think these particular thieves were ever quite brave enough to attempt to rob a branch."

Sirius looked interested, and chuckled sardonically at the end. "No, I suspect fear of goblin reprisals provides as much deterrent as actual security; I remember coming here with my father once as a child and seeing a prospective thief's head strung up to one side of the entryway." He paused. "I think the Ministry asked them to take it down, and they did, eventually."


Updated- 16/04/19