Ragnok's office was completely silent as the director and Severus read the goblin Healers' report on Harry's curse scar. The quiet in the office was tense and nearly palpable.

"So what does this mean?" Severus finally asked in frustration, running a hand through his lank black hair. Ragnok looked up, his sharp face somber.

"Dark residue remains in your ward's scar. It almost appears to be a fragment."

"A fragment of what, exactly?" Severus growled, scowling at the papers.

"Of that we are not yet sure," Ragnok replied in a tight voice. "We have researchers combing through any records of curse wounds, but as of yet we have not found a report that matches Harry Potter's."

Severus blew out a breath, slumping in his chair.

"How long have you had the boy?" the goblin asked.

Severus thought for a moment. "Nearly eleven months," he said in surprise. He had almost gotten used to the annoying child being underfoot.

Ragnok nodded, making a notation on the Healer's report. "Any more pain in the scar?"

"Not that he has mentioned."

The director nodded, frowning. "Well, we will keep researching. I am certain the answer is lurking out there somewhere."

Severus nodded, leaning forward. "Ragnok, I was wondering if you had the Potters' wills."

The goblin eyed him with shrewd eyes. "It has taken you nearly a year to ask that, Severus."

The young man frowned. "It's been…hectic this past year."

Ragnok let out a dry chuckle. "I imagine. You went to being a bachelor, living alone in your dreary dungeon corridors, to the guardian of an active young boy."

"My chambers are hardly dreary," Severus sniffed. "However, you are correct in assuming my life has needed some adjusting. I have been thinking about the Oath and the Potters' vaults, and I was wondering if such a thing would override the Potters' wills. I am almost certain Lily would not have left all of her worldly belongings to Albus Dumbledore and none to her son."

Ragnok sighed, tapping his long fingers against the wood of the table. "You may be right, Severus. However, I have not brought the wills up for a very good reason."

"Which would be?"

The director gazed at Severus steadily. "Sirius Black."

Severus sputtered. "What the hell does that fool have to do with anything?"

"Lily and James' wills decree that Sirius Orion Black be present as the executor at the reading of their wills. They also decree that Mr. Black be the legal guardian of Harry Potter in the event of their demise."

"But Black is in Azkaban," Severus said impatiently. "Locked up for life for the betrayal of those two very people. How can he still have a claim to anything?"

The goblin leaned back, his spectacles gleaming. "When a life will is made, it is magically sealed to respond only to the terms of the said will. If a party that is supposed to be an executor or witness to a will is deemed unfit, whether by death or a guilty verdict and sentencing in a court of law, the magic automatically fades, allowing the next named individual to access the will. In the case of the Potters', this would be Remus Lupin."

Severus scowled darkly at the name. "And last I checked Black was severing time in Azkaban, SENTENCED to life in prison."

"Ah," the goblin said, leaning forward. "But without a guilty verdict."

The young man blinked. "What?"

"Sirius Black never received a trial and, therefore, never received a verdict. His sentencing was determined illegally, without due process and consideration. As a result, the binding magic on the wills is still in effect, and they cannot be read without Mr. Black's presence. Your guardianship of Harry is valid as long as Mr. Black is incarcerated."

Severus rubbed his temple, where he could feel a horrendous headache brewing. "So what you are saying is the only way Harry can reclaim his money from Dumbledore is if Black reads the will. However, if Black reads the will, he has due claim to dispute my custody over Potter."

The goblin nodded, leaning back.

"What a bloody mess," the Potions Master swore softly.

"Indeed," the director said. "What will you do?"

Severus thought. "Nothing, for the moment at least. I am attending a rather prestigious potions convention in France next week, and I need to concentrate on preparing for that. Perhaps after Potter and I return, we can sort through this problem with Black. If we can get him a trial, he will be found guilty and resentenced, which would make his claim on the wills null and void."

Ragnok nodded, standing up. "Until next time, then."

Severus also stood and bowed his head respectfully. "May your coffers be ever filled and your enemies struck down."

The goblin gave a rather feral smile. "Indeed, brother. Indeed."

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Harry bounced on the heels of his feet as he stared around in wide-eyed wonder. All around him, witches and wizards bustled past, all talking animatedly in French. The little boy tugged on Severus's hand.

"Are there gonna be real werewolves here, Sev'rus?"

The young man scowled. "More than likely."

"Wicked," the little boy breathed.

"If I am very lucky, one of them might gobble you up," Severus groused, but without vitriol.

Harry giggled. "No! I'd give him a tummy ache!"

"Indigestion, most likely," Severus muttered, leading Harry to the posh hotel where they would be staying. Harry gazed around the elegant lobby in interest as his guardian conferred with the pretty witch behind the counter, getting a small silver key.

"Don't dawdle," Severus snapped, ushering the little boy toward the silver lifts that would take them to their floor.

"Severus Snape?" a deep voice said from behind them. Severus froze, his grip tightening on Harry's small hand as he turned slowly.

"Yes?" he said impatiently.

Harry looked up at the stranger. His face was rugged, long and lean. A small golden goatee accentuated his sharp chin. His nose looked as though it had been broken before, and his shaggy golden hair hung to his shoulders. His eyes were piercing, a keen amber color.

"My name," the man said in a thick French accent, "is Adrien Barclay."

"Fascinating," Severus sneered, his hand gripping his wand within the folds of his black robes.

"I am here to hear your speech on your Wolfsbane potion. I have quite a vested interest in it."

Severus raised a dark brow. "Meaning you need to take it."

Adrien inclined his head. "You ought to know, monsieur, that I come from one of the most wealthy families in all of France. My family is directly related to royalty, and we are very influential. I was recruited nearly eight years ago by the one who calls himself Lord Voldemort, whose name alone is a sorry mockery of the French language. He wanted me to back him financially and influentially, and when I refused he set his favored pet Fenrir Greyback upon me. Perhaps you might remember, Severus Snape, seeing as you were also there?"

Severus paled, griping Harry's hand painfully. "What do you want?"

Adrien's golden eyes lingered on Harry for a moment before returning to Severus. "I want to back your potion, of course."

Severus frowned. "What do you hope to achieve from it, besides the obvious?"

Adrien gave a roguish grin. "That is a discussion for another time, friend."

"I am not your friend," Severus snapped. "However, perhaps you can help. Several ingredients I require are very rare and even more expensive…"

Adrien held up a hand. "Say no more. Compile a list of what you need, and I will make sure you have it. I look forward to hearing you speak tomorrow." He turned to leave.

"Hey," Harry called out. Adrien turned, an eyebrow cocked.

"Yes, child?" His golden eyes flicked to the lightning bolt scar partially hidden by the boy's messy curls, but he said nothing about it.

"Are you really a werewolf?"

Adrien smiled, showing slightly elongated canines. "Yes."

"Wow," Harry breathed in awe. "Are you gonna gobble me up? 'Cuz you might get indigestion, Sev'rus says."

There was a moment of utter silence before Adrien burst out laughing and Severus groaned in mortification, tugging the child toward the lifts and silently and grimly cursing the day Lily Potter decided not to use protection.