Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor am I making any profit from writing this. It's actually pulling me away from the non-fanfiction writing that I'm supposed to be doing, so take that for what it is.
Author's Note: Oh yeah, hey, by the way, the end of this chapter has some crazy gory parts that will continue into the next few chapters, so consider this my official warning of such.
...
Chapter 21: Testing
...
Mixie popped into the training room just as Harry ducked a particularly vicious biting hex from Tom. She scampered to the corner of the room and waited until the two wizards stopped their dueling.
Nearly ten minutes later, after Harry found himself on the wrong end of a cutting curse, Tom looked over at the house elf. "What is it?" he asked as he walked over to Harry.
"Master's guest is being asking if he could be told when it is being an hour before he is being needing to leave to be taking his final exams," Mixie said, staring with wide eyes at the rather impressive gash on Harry's right forearm. "It is being that time right now."
Harry nodded his thanks to the house elf, wincing when Tom took hold of his wrist. "What is your fascination with the idea of sharp - Ow! That fucking hurts," he snapped when Tom tightened his hold on his wrist and pulled Harry's arm toward him.
"If you'd have focused on keeping your personal shield erected long enough, you could have avoided this cut," Tom said lightly. "Have you considered starting using a wand?" he asked. "It may help you focus your magic a bit more."
Harry scowled. "I prefer the flexibility and control of wandless magic," he muttered. "Are you going to heal me or am I going to have to do it myself?" he asked.
Tom smirked. He pressed a kiss to Harry's knuckles before murmuring a healing spell that quickly knitted Harry's skin back together, leaving only a thin, light scar in its place. "You are dangerously close to overstepping your bounds with me, brat," he said. "And next time, I expect you to maintain your shield," he added, standing and helping Harry to his feet.
"I've got to leave in an hour," Harry said.
"So the house elf said," Tom said as he ran his fingers over the length of the scar. "You are far too easily scarred," he said, frowning slightly.
Harry shrugged. "It'll fade in about three hours, if it's like the other scars that I've had in the past," he said. "And besides, you strike me as the type to enjoy marking what he considers to be his. I'm going to take a shower before I leave," he said.
"I did mark you," Tom said, wrapping an arm around Harry's shoulder and motioning vaguely at Harry's forehead. He ignored the way the younger man absently reached up to touch his scar while he escorted Harry out of the room. "Will you be eating before you leave?" he asked.
Harry shook his head. "I'm going to stay in the Alley and get something there," he said. "There are about half a dozen people in both the Diagon and Knockturn Alleys that were customers of Serpicos, and I'm going to see if they've heard anything about Cain."
"You still haven't heard from him?"
"Not since he left for Australia to meet up with Irwin," Harry said. "And something's wrong, because he would have sent me a Howler every hour after he found out that I told Tobias to destroy the shop." He frowned. "If he and Irwin haven't secluded themselves in some romantic corner of Australia, and he doesn't know that Serpicos is now just a brick, then something is wrong. I don't want to think that he's dead, but if he stays gone for too long ..." he trailed off, staring at the ground. "He kept telling me that a day like this might happen, but I never really believed him before, you know?" he asked quietly.
Tom frowned again and said nothing for a moment. "If you haven't learned anything when you return, I'll look into the issue myself," he said. "It isn't like him to just take off without leaving word where he's going."
Harry nodded and stopped at the bottom of the staircase. "Thank you," he said.
Tom merely nodded. "I wish you well on your exams," he said.
"What are you going to do?" he asked.
"I am meeting with an emissary from the vampires," Tom said. "They wasted no time sending a middleman of sorts when Lucius informed them that I was willing to negotiate a mutually beneficial agreement."
Harry grinned suddenly. "Good luck with them," he said before walking up the stairs.
...
Twenty minutes later, Harry came back downstairs, having freshly showered. He was dressed in black jeans and a green t-shirt, but his hair was pulled back into a low ponytail and there was a dark grey beanie pulled over his head so that it fully covered his scar.
Tom caught him on his way out. "It's nearly eighty degrees outside, pet," he said quietly. "You're going to stand out with that hat."
Harry grinned. "There's a mild Cooling Charm weaved into the fabric of this hat," he said. "Keeping me sufficiently cooled down while at the same time keeping my wonderful little scar completely hidden. Do you think I've got enough time to stop by Gringotts before the exams?" he asked.
Tom cast a quick Tempus. "You should, as long as you leave for the Alley within the next few minutes," he said.
Harry nodded, a sly smirk coming over his face. "Do I get a good luck kiss?" he asked.
Tom took a step forward and leaned down. He pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead. At Harry's pout, he smirked. "I assure you, you will enjoy your congratulatory kiss when you return," he said. "Before you leave, though, I do have your birthday gift to give you," he added. "Come with me to my office. You can use the Floo system from there to leave."
"Lead the way, then," Harry said. "I do so enjoy getting presents."
Tom said nothing, but led the way to his office.
Once the two of them were inside, Tom pulled something out of the top drawer of his desk and handed it to Harry.
Harry looked it over. It was a black leather armband with something etched onto the front of it, but Harry couldn't quite tell - at first glance, it looked to be nothing more than a blur. "Thank you," he said quietly, flipping the band over in his hand to look at the back of it.
Tom smirked. "I very much doubt that you would allow me to brand your forearm with the Dark Mark," he said.
Harry scowled and looked up at Tom. "Yeah," he said. "I'd much rather that not happen. Ever."
"As unsurprising as it is to hear that," Tom said. "That band serves as something of a substitute to my Mark."
"What's the picture on the front of the band?" Harry asked.
Tom smirked. He took a seat on the edge of his desk. "Pet," he said quietly, and he ignored the mildly irritated look on Harry's face. "Look at the front of the band."
Harry did so, and his eyes widened. A dark silver etching of a snake, which looked remarkably like Aviva, had appeared on the front of the armband.
The two of them watched silently as the snake settled into coils and appeared to go to sleep.
Tom stood up and helped Harry fasten the armband to his right elbow. Once it was sufficiently fastened, the thin leather cords braided around the bottom of the band and they seemed to almost fuse together with the band after a moment.
"It's brilliant," Harry said. "But why do I get the feeling that you planned on this acting as some sort of collar?" he asked.
Tom hummed quietly but didn't say anything for a moment. "If you are in danger, just drop some of your blood onto the snake, and it will allow me to track you," he said. "And if you need to make it seem less conspicuous, then repeat the same word in Parseltongue," he added.
"You can't change that word, can you, Pet?" he asked, and the serpent faded back to blend in with the color of the leather armband.
Tom smirked. "Keep in mind that I am not the one wearing the collar right now," he said, laughing quietly at the growl Harry sent in his direction. "You're going to run out of time if you wait here any longer," he said.
"Thank you for the gift," Harry said. "But I will get you back for the collar."
Tom reached out and grabbed Harry's ponytail. He pulled it back so that Harry's neck was exposed to him, and he smirked when the younger man didn't resist. Instead, he calmly watched the Dark Lord's every move, waiting to see what the man was going to do next. "You would make quite the picture, pet, tied up and collared," Tom said. He leaned forward a bit. "And depending on what your Animagus is, I could keep you on a collar and leash."
Harry laughed quietly before grabbing Tom's shirt and pulling the man closer, ignoring the way the grip on his hair tightened a bit. "Don't count on that," he said before kissing the Dark Lord chastely on the lips.
"I'll see you once you've finished with your tests," Tom said, releasing his hold on the younger man's hair. "The Floo powder is in the green vase on the mantle. Do you know how to Apparate?" he asked.
Harry nodded.
"Good. Use that method for your return," Tom said. "And be back before midnight, pet," he said.
Harry nodded again, once again kissing Tom before heading to the fireplace. He grabbed a small handful of Floo powder and Flooed to Diagon Alley.
He managed to make it out of the Leaky Cauldron and through the rest of Diagon Alley without garnering too much attention, but as soon as he stepped inside Gringotts, Harry was greeted by a severe looking goblin.
"Mister Potter," the goblin said, loud enough to catch his attention but quiet enough that the name wouldn't attract unwanted attention.
Harry started - he hadn't expected to be identified, especially by someone who had never met him before. "Yes," he said hesitantly, hoping that no one was trying to eavesdrop on the conversation. "I was told that I should come in here and claim my inheritance, since I've reached the age of maturity," he said.
"We know. We've been expecting you," the goblin said.
Harry paused. "Really?" he asked.
The goblin nodded. "My name is Griphook," he said. "Come with me."
"Where?"
"Matters of inheritance are handled in a private room," he said, heading toward a dark brown door near the back of the room.
"This isn't going to take too long, is it?" Harry asked. "I don't want to seem rude or anything, but I'm scheduled to take my final exams in about half an hour."
Griphook looked up at him. "Your family will was in order when your parents died, so it shouldn't take more than twenty minutes," he said.
...
The room was sparsely decorated - just a small oak desk and an equally small chair behind it, both of them clearly manufactured for the goblin, and a larger armchair on the opposite side of the desk. There was a large stack of paper on the desk.
"Take a seat, Mister Potter," Griphook said.
Harry did so, shifting a bit. "Lucius Malfoy told me that there are seats in both the Wizengamot and on the Hogwarts board of education that belong to the Potter family," he said as the goblin started looking through the stack of paper.
"It is not often that we get such a young friend of the Minister," Griphook said without looking up from the papers. "Since those seats have been empty for so long, it will take some time to get the proper paperwork in order. A week, perhaps," he said. "And your situation is particularly unusual."
"Why?" Harry asked.
"Because normally, the person who held the seat prior to you would give you an appropriate education as to how to behave when holding those seats," he said, plucking a small file from the middle of the stack. "Since your parents are deceased, it would be a good idea for you to seek out the assistance of someone holding similar positions," he added. "Perhaps your friend, the Minister, would be willing. This is your parent's will." He opened it up and pulled out the top page for Harry to read.
It took him less than a minute for him to read over the page, but he had to read it over three more times before it all sank in.
Four vaults in Gringotts and two more vaults in a bank in Austria, all of them filled with millions of Galleons. There was an additional vault, inside it an inventory of over a hundred Potter family heirlooms, some of them spanning back to the early Renaissance era. Eight properties over the globe, including the Potter Manor in Lincolnshire county and a private island about eighty miles northeast of Brisbane, Australia.
"Holy Mother of Merlin," Harry said. "This makes me -"
"The third wealthiest man in England, yes. Behind Lucius Malfoy and the patriarch of the Black family, who has requested to remain anonymous," Griphook said. "All we need to do to make this official is put three drops of your blood on this paper," he said, summoning a large needle from thin air. "A warning, though, that if you are not who you say you are, the paper will turn black and you will be taken up on charges of misrepresentation."
Harry hesitated a moment before replacing the paper on the desk in front of him and offering Griphook his right hand. "I am who you told me I was," he said.
The goblin grinned wickedly, taking hold of Harry's hand. He pricked the needle into the pulse point on Harry's wrist. Three drops of blood dropped onto the paper before the wound sealed itself. As soon as the blood dried a few seconds later and nothing happened, he tucked the paper back into his file with a pleased nod. "Come with me."
"Where to?" he asked.
"With those three drops of blood, you have been named as the head of the Potter family," he said. "It is customary for the heads of family to wear the family rings, and it is not uncommon for you to give a ring to your intended. The rings are currently being kept in your main family vault."
Harry nodded, quickly standing and following the goblin. "Thank you," he said.
Griphook nodded curtly but said nothing as he led Harry into the back room, where they both got onto a small cart. As soon as the two of them were seated, the cart headed down a trail at a nearly breakneck speed.
They traveled over a number of tracks - including a number of sharp turns and more than a few sudden drops - for just over five minutes before coming to a stop in front of a large vault door.
Harry was the first one out of the cart, and he bent over a bit, putting his hands on his knees in an attempt to catch his breath and quell the nausea. "There wouldn't happen to be a different way up, would there?" he asked.
"The cart is the only way," Griphook said, sounding oddly cheerful as he handed Harry a small gold key.
He took it and opened the vault. As the door creaked open, Harry found himself overwhelmed with the sheer mass of coins stacked throughout the vault. He looked around for a few minutes before finding a small black box resting on a table near the left wall. He quickly opened it to find seven rings. "How do I know which one?" he asked.
"You were raised outside of this society, I gather?" Griphook asked. "And it will be the one placed in the center slot."
Harry nodded. "I was raised in a courtyard that's kept isolated," he said as he picked up the centermost ring. It was a dark silver ring, with ornately designed black celtic knots on the band. A dark green emerald was anchored in the center, and it was framed with two small onyx stones. "It's fantastic," he said quietly.
"Wear it on the middle finger of your right hand," Griphook said.
"And if I am a consort?" he asked, hesitating slightly before the word 'consort'.
"The ring to the left of the center," Griphook said, staring oddly at Harry for a moment. "It's black, and there's a small emerald embedded in the center of the ring. Make sure to keep it secure," he said.
Harry nodded. "I'm not going to take that one today, but I will come back when I'm not so pressed for time," he said. He moved to slide the patriarch ring onto his finger, but Griphook held up a hand. "What?" he asked.
"Once you put that ring on your finger, it cannot be removed until your death," the goblin said.
Harry looked at the ring and nodded once. "I can handle that."
The goblin grinned wickedly but said nothing else as Harry slid the ring onto his finger.
"Are you ready to go?" he asked, looking back at Griphook.
The goblin nodded and left the vault.
As soon as Harry closed the vault, he offered Griphook the key. "Would it be possible for you to keep the key?" he asked.
Griphook paused. "If you choose to store the key here, all your future transactions must be verified with your blood," he said.
Harry nodded. "That'll be fine," he said.
The goblin said nothing as he took the key from Harry and got back into the cart.
The ride back was as fast and as nauseating as the ride to the vault. When Harry got out of the cart and didn't feel too much like vomiting, he looked over at Griphook. "Does that ride ever get any easier?" he asked.
The goblin merely grinned wickedly at him. "You're going to be late for your final exams if you stay here too much longer," he said. "Have a nice day, Mister Potter."
Harry nodded. "Thank you for your help," he said before walking out of the bank and back toward the Leaky Cauldron.
Despite being nearly ten minutes early for his exams, Harry headed up to room 214 of the Leaky Cauldron. When he made it to the room, though, he was surprised to find a man sitting on a couch. The room had been converted from a typical hotel room to something more befitting a room for someone to take an exam in - the bed was gone, and it was replaced with a large desk and an armchair. The man - who Harry assumed was Gregory Oliver - was sitting on the couch, looking over a notebook that Harry assumed contained his exams.
"You're early, Mister Potter," the man said, not looking up from the notebook.
"I know," Harry said quietly. "Is that going to be a problem?" he asked.
The man shook his head and stood up, giving Harry a chance to look the man over. He was short, almost comically so, with dark brown hair and thick glasses that had Harry immediately associating the man with the image of an owl. "No," he said. "We can start a few minutes early. Have you been told how this process is done?" he asked.
Harry nodded. "Yeah," he said.
"Good," he said, motioning over at the desk. "Have a seat and we'll get started."
...
Three and a half hours later, a small chime echoed through the room. Gregory looked up from his book and cleared his throat. "Your time is up, Mister Potter," he said.
Harry nodded and set his quill down.
"How do you feel?" Gregory asked as he picked up the notebook.
"Honestly?" Harry asked. "Hungry," he said. "I doubt Tobias made it easy for you when he originally contacted you to proctor these exams, but thank you for doing this," he said, standing up and stretching a bit.
Gregory nodded curtly. "These will be graded within the next three days," he said. "Would you like me to mail your scores to you?" he asked.
"If you could just send them to my account in Gringotts, that would be best. I'll pick them up as soon as I can, and you can make sure that you're somewhere that Tobias can't get to you," he said.
"I don't understand what you mean."
"Tobias didn't threaten you when he first contacted you?" he asked.
Gregory said nothing, though he did shift uncomfortably.
"That's what I thought," Harry said. "Thank you for agreeing to do this, again."
"You're not worried about the fact that this demon has threatened to kill me?" Gregory asked, sounding incredibly frustrated.
"I've known about his tendencies for years, and it hasn't surprised me since I was seven years old," he said. "I'll wish you luck, but nothing more than that." The older man just stared at him in blatant disbelief, but when he said nothing more, Harry walked out of the room and quickly made his way out of the Leaky Cauldron.
...
The couple who lived above a small cafe, who'd bought a burmese python from Cain a few years ago, hadn't seen or heard from the man in over six months, and that sparked Harry's concern. He knew that his guardian shared a mutual affection for Irwin, and this wouldn't be the first time that he and the Australian man had decided to take something of a romantic getaway together.
He made his way toward Knockturn Alley, unable to shake the sudden feeling that he was being watched. The closer he got to the Alley, though, the more that feeling increased.
Harry was just about to step into the Alley when someone grabbed him by the upper arm, stopping him from going any further. He glared at the offending hand before looking to see who that hand belonged to. "Well, Severus, this is certainly a surprise," he said coldly, glaring at the man in question. "Let go of me."
The Potions Master scowled. "You're going to get yourself killed, Potter," he snapped. "When the Dark Lord tires of you, he will kill you."
"And yet, here I am, walking about Diagon Alley without a leash on me," Harry said. "Now, release me."
"You're mad," Severus said coldly. "There's no other explanation."
Harry smirked and took a step closer to the older man. "There is at least one that I can think of," he said, his voice little more than a cruel purr.
It took Severus only a moment before his hold tightened on Harry's arm and his eyes widened. "No," he said in a horrified whisper. "He's broken you."
Harry shrugged a bit, glaring pointedly at the hand on his arm. "Either that or I've submitted to him willingly," he said. "Now, are you going to make me tell you a third time to get your hand the fuck off of me, or am I going to have to remove your hand myself?" he asked.
Severus shook his head. "You need help."
"What I need - "
"No," he said coldly. "You need help, and I'm going to get it for you," he said.
Harry's eyes narrowed suspiciously but he said nothing.
Severus smirked, an unsettling glint lighting up in his eyes, and without a word, he Apparated both Harry and himself out of the Alley.
They reappeared seconds later in the front hall of a house, and Harry immediately started struggling against the Potions Master's hold, only to have the man snap a spell that had Harry's wrists bound behind his back with a thick leather cord. He yanked the beanie off of Harry's head and tossed it to the ground, ignoring the glare that Harry leveled on him for doing so.
"You're going to cooperate, because we're only going to do what's best for you," Severus snapped as he pulled Harry further into the house.
They made it into a sitting room before anyone payed too much attention to them. As soon as Severus shoved Harry into a stiff armchair by the door, though, the occupants of the room all started staring at the younger man. One of the numerous redheads in the room - a lanky beanpole of a boy about Harry's age - walked over to Harry, gaping at him. When he got close enough to reach out and touch the lightning bolt scar on Harry's forehead, though, Harry lunged forward and sank his teeth into the boy's forearm. He felt an oddly feral sense of satisfaction when the coppery tang of blood filled his mouth and he heard the boy's bone crack, and the panicked shrieks that the boy was letting out only caused him to clamp his jaws down tighter.
The sounds of the boy's screams drew everyone closer, still staring at him with an odd air of tentative fascination and horror.
Severus grabbed a handful of Harry's hair and jerked it back painfully, forcing Harry to release his hold on the boy's arm.
Harry glared up at the older man and spat out the chunk of the redhead's forearm that had dislodged in his mouth.
It hit Severus in the face, and that had the man shoving a rudimentary gag into Harry's mouth. He looked dispassionately over at the wounded redhead, who was holding his arm out in front of him and screaming in agony. "Cease your whining, Mister Weasley, and go find the Headmaster," he snapped, causing everyone else in the room to take a step back. "He will heal your wound, and then you will inform him that we have a new guest who is in need of our assistance."
The redhead glared at Severus for a moment, clutching his wounded forearm to his chest.
"The longer you dawdle, the more likely it is that you will bleed to death," Severus snapped, and that had the redhead sprinting out of the room in search of the Headmaster. Severus looked back down at Harry, who was still glaring at him. "Pull any more tricks like that, Mister Potter," he snapped, "and I will take the pleasure of removing each and every one of your teeth. Individually."
Harry just bared his teeth at the Potions Master - a gesture that was made much less effective by the gag in his mouth - and hissed ferally at the older man, whose only response was to once again jerk Harry's hair back, exposing his throat to the other inhabitants of the room.