Chapter 3:
Harry stared at Ripstone for a moment, wondering if he could silence the goblin before the cry for alarm was heard. There was, however, no need. "I do not pretend to know why you are an exception, but if you were truly an eleven year old boy, then the Potter family signet would not have allowed you to remove it, also the magic of the inheritance test would have listed you as the heir apparent to all of those families. Instead, you were listed as the head, which means that magic itself sees you as an adult. If I was a betting goblin, which I am, I would bet that there is much more to you, Lord Potter, than meets the eye." He finished, with an appraising look. "But that's none of my business."
There was little of further interest in the Potter vaults. The most exciting item that was found, and taken when it was, was a wallet and dagger set that Harry found in a glass display case. The wallet that he found was made of mokeskin, that wonderful material that would shrink when anyone but the owner tried to grab it, and the dagger was heavily enchanted, carrying enough magic to let it cut through steel without going dull. Harry figured it might be a useful toy, and strapped the sheath to his forearm. As Frost always says, its always good to have a knife, because you never know when someone will need a good stabbing.
The next vault on the list was the Blacks. Harry approached the door after the obligatory cart ride, and hesitated a moment. The Blacks were not the type of people to suffer the theft of their family line lightly. Harry turned to Ripstone. "Do you know what kind of protections are on this vault, honored teller?" Harry asked, hoping the goblin knew. The goblin stared at the door a moment before answering. "Good catch, Lord Potter, on this door is a curse that would slay anyone not of the black family. It is easily circumvented, but because you call yourself lord potter, it would have ended you easily." Harry felt a chill go up his spine. He needed to remember that just because the world had come out of the ruin it was in the future didn't mean that it was not still a dangerous place. "Can you disable the ward?" Harry asked. The goblin shook his head. "No, but then, I shouldn't need to. Simply call out that you are the new Lord Black before you touch the door, and since it is a truthful statement, the curse cannot lay claim to you." Harry swallowed heavily as he approached the door. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. "I am Harold James Black, new Lord and Head of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, come to my inheritance." Harry intoned as he touched the door. He braced for the shock of killing magic, but it never came. Instead, the door slid up, to show a chamber filled with gold and jewels and priceless artifacts.
Harry stared into the vault for a moment, before turning to Ripstone. "Why is this vault mixed?" He asked, wondering at the foolishness of wizards. The goblin smiled. "Not every family head has been as smart as one Hadrian Potter, who had the idea to split the two vaults. This is what the majority of our other vaults look like." Harry strolled in and glanced around. Much like the potter vault, this one held a ring upon a pedestal, but rather than picking it up immediately, Harry examined it with his Mage sight. "Ripstone, is it just me, or is there a rather nasty withering blight curse on that ring?" Ripstone looked at the ring for a moment, before nodding his head. "It would appear," he said "that Arcturus Black wanted his son see to his displeasure at his life choices most keenly after his death." Harry just chuckled a bit I always wondered where Tom got the idea for that curse. Turning away from the ring, he shook his head. "I'll leave it for now, I have no use for it, and I'd like to keep my body parts intact."
Digging through the vault for another hour or so, Harry stumbled across a very strange find. On a table near the back sat row upon row of small black statuettes of animals. There were horses, owls, big cats, lizards, and many other different types. All of them radiating magic. "Ah, yes." said Ripstone. "The Ebon Figurines. Each one has a captive pookah, and as such all it takes is a little magic to bring it to life, full size. Sometimes even a little bigger. I do not know what each individual statue does, but you could always experiment." Harry nodded thoughtfully as he grabbed a skeletal horse-shaped figurine. unlike the others, it's shape was only vaguely defined. He slipped it into his pocket. "I'll be back for these later, I think. I have a friend who would love them." he said, thinking of Luna.
Realizing that he had spent too much time here already, and with many things left to do before the day ended, he resolved to come back the next day and finish his tour of his mother's vault, along with Grindelwald's, Gryffindor's, and the Peverell's. He would leave Tom's vault alone, since he planned on giving him back his family status as soon as he had a body to give it back to. Filling his wallet from the Black fortune and asking Ripstone to return them to the surface, Harry prepared for a little more work today.
Back on the surface with Ripstone, Harry was brought into an office to answer a few last questions. Ripstone got right to the point. "Lord Potter, I would like you to be aware that it is highly unusual for a wizard to run his own investments, and take charge of his own finances. While I find it reprehensible that most wizards are so arrogant as to allow their money to be handled by others, I find that with your fortune, it would be ill of me to advise you to take care of it for yourself. I would be willing to do this for two percent of your interest, a small amount, and a commission of oh, say, twenty percent on all sales of non-solid assets such as stocks that I do on your behalf." Harry thought for a second. He was about to agree, when a thought crossed his mind. "Ripstone . . . exactly how much is my total worth?" Ripstones facial muscles tensed a bit, but his expression never wavered. "All of your vaults combined together, Lord Potter, put you at about three-quarters of a billion galleons, liquid. It is impossible to appraise your assets because many are priceless." Harry nodded his head. "And what is my current interest rate?" he asked innocently. Ripstone's face seemed to tighten a bit more, seeing where this was going. "five percent, accruing every four months." he said, hating the words as he said them. Harry nodded. "So, I may be wrong, but with the information you are giving me, you would be making about seven hundred and fifty thousand galleons every four months, without commissions, correct?" "That is correct, sir." sighed the goblin, knowing that he had been caught. He had failed at using the small numbers to make himself some big ones. Harry was still nodding. "Okay, how about we do the two percent, and then cut the commission down to, say, five percent, so that you won't waste your time making penny ante sales, hmm?" Harry asked, smiling wickedly. The goblin smiled back, not expecting any commission on top of a salary that would leave him living the high life. "It shall be done, then, sir!" he said, bowing politely. Harry stood up. "If we have no further business, I do believe I will be off to buy a wand." The goblin cleared his throat and Harry raised an eyebrow. "If I might be so bold, sir, Ollivander, while a truly wonderful wandcrafter in his own right, is not one who is likely to sell a wand to an unaccompanied child. It may behoove you to try to find a wandcrafter from a darker part of town." with that, Harry nodded, and used the public floos in gringott's to find himself in Nocturn Alley.
Nocturn Alley is a smelly, dirty, nasty little scum hole that intersects with diagon alley diagonally, running from north to south. The other street that intersected from east to west used to be Virtue Alley, but it was destroyed during the muggle bombings of World War Two. The magicals attributed it to earthquakes, since muggles could never cause that much destruction. Harry had pulled up his hood to hide his face, and cast his notice me not charm before stepping into the floo. He wandered past hags and people who wore the obvious signs of lycanthropy. A few people he was pretty sure were vampires stuck close to the sides of the buildings. Not much light penetrated into Nocturn Alley, but even a tiny bit could cause a vampire immense pain. Harry weaved his way through the press of dirty people and found himself in front of a shop with a sign that said Canis Wands Est. A.D. 3. Opening the door, he saw it was a dark shop, with nothing but a counter about halfway through the room and a few chairs. There was a steel grill with slots along the bottom across the counter and it looked as though someone could try to blow it up and easily fail. Behind the counter was a thin man with pale skin and a bored expression. He looked up and smiled at Harry, revealing very pointed teeth. Vampire.
"Hello, sir, and welcome to Canis wands, what can I do for you today?" He asked, eyeing Harry predatorily. Harry approached the counter cautiously. It wasn't that he was afraid of the vampire, although he was glad there was a grill between them, it was more that the vampire had easily seen through his notice me not spell. That meant he was an old vampire. Possibly Canis himself. Either way, there was nothing for it but to push forward. "I need a wand, custom if you can swing it." Harry said, eyeing the vampire. The vampire smiled again. "Why would such a sweet little thing like yourself be interested in a custom wand?" He said. Harry felt the warning twinge of someone trying to influence his mind, and realized that it was vampiric telepathy. Holding up his hand, Harry said in a mild voice "Solaris!" and a bright glow formed around his hand. The Solaris spell is an upgraded version of the lumos spell. It creates light that exactly replicates sunlight, to the extent of being very painful to vampires. The one behind the counter shrieked and dove for the floor, a smoke trail following him behind the counter. "Nocturnis" Harry said, ending the spell. The vampire slowly poked his head up from behind the counter, half his face a blistered, bleeding wreck, but healing fast. "Ah, I see you are more competent than you seem, my little gentleman. Perhaps we may do business, indeed." As he spoke his face healed the rest of the way. That meant that he was, in fact, a very old vampire. Young vampires take days or even weeks to heal from sun wounds. Less than a minute meant centuries old at the least. Harry nodded his head. "I can conjure stakes, too. Bear that in mind."
The vampire looked Harry over and nodded. "I take it you've had an Ollivander wand before?" he asked. At Harry's nod, he chuckled. "Well, this process is like a deconstructed version of that one. Instead of trying wands, you will first find the wood, then the core of your wand. There's also a few . . . accessories we can add if they're compatible for you, but most people don't have the power for them." The vampire walked over to a small half-gate in the counter and opened it up. "Come on back, my little gentleman. I have many things to show you." Harry felt a chill go down his spine at those words. Hoping that the vampire didn't intend to have him for lunch, Harry squared his shoulders, made sure his dagger was securely strapped to the inside of his forearm, and hoped like hell he survived this.
A/N: I'm BAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK! at least for a little while. So i've borrowed a couple ideas from people and twisted them a bit. Rorschach's Blot may recognize a few things, as well as some other people, but I assure them I ste . . . err . . . borrow things without any malice, and since none of us are making any money off this anyway, why does it matter. I'd like people to hit up my poll about the luckstone, and I really do apologize for the long wait between chapters. If anyone still reads this, then have a nice day. and review. so i don't eat your family. and pets.