A/N: all Harry-Sirius-Goblins conversations are in Glenskrad.
Gringotts- IV
Harry sent the Patronus Messenger to Amelia the very next day, anticipating tremendous shock and surprise. He had also invited Susan along with her, if she wished, on behalf of Neville. While requesting Harry to ask her to bring Susan along, Neville had kept a meticulously maintained 'Spock' face, prompting Harry to realise that there could be more to it. He wouldn't mind that much. There would be several years in which to tease and torment Neville. Amelia had responded through the Floo that she had several appointments for the day and also for the following two days, so he could expect her only three days later. As a Sunday, it would have worked wonderfully, as Chief Bones would've a day off. As Mrs. Tonks gave Neville and Harry weekends off, Harry put Neville through his paces to work on his transformations then.
That Saturday, Harry and a cowering Sirius (in the dog form, he couldn't be seated on the bus, so under Granny Min's directions, the brutal looking dog was transfigured into a poodle) made their way by Knight Bus to the Leaky Cauldron. Hadrian could hardly stop his snickers at the little bows on the poodle's ears. He was entirely sure that Sirius was going to make a litany of every such prank and pay him back in the same currency. Till then at least Harry was going to have his laughs.
After the customary greetings where the Teller grimaced at the revoltingly pink coloured poodle that Harry held, he was shown to Biggem's office. Along the way, Harry learnt a more interesting facet of the Nation's social life. Goblins loved to tease, and they loved snarky replies and ruthless putdowns even more. Harry had been unable to respond for a long time as he stared at his guide in pure shock. It was just as they reached Biggem's office, that he responded to Goldball's comments where he likened Harry to female mundane celebrities and asked him whether his name was Harriet in private. "What about you, Goldball? I was initiated into basic health and biology of Goblins when I was inducted into the nation. I know for a fact that goblins have three... balls. You sacrificed all three and a chance to have your own sprogs just for having one ball of gold? Such a pity, that is." That had left the loudmouth spluttering, even as Biggem, who on hearing Harry's voice had opened the door, burst out laughing. Even Padfoot the 'cute' poodle yipped annoyingly.
"You are excused Teller Goldball. Thank you for initiating Lord Griffinheart here, the Great Elder and the Great One incarnate, into Goblin humour." Goldball did the closest Goblin impression of widened and shocked eyes before hurrying off. As Harry closed the door behind him, and greeted Biggem at the start of their customary Glenskrad conversation, Biggem cast a curious glance at the poodle. "I did know that Lord Presumptive Black was a dog animagus, but I still hoped he could be a bit... imposing. Still, I welcome you back, Mr. Black. Do make yourself comfortable and resume your human form."
Sirius did that and scowling at Harry, grabbed his godson in a headlock, grinding his knuckles into the boy's head. "Please ignore us for a moment, Master Biggem." Then resuming his torture of Harry, he growled, "I am going to make life hell for you, Prongslet! I swear you'll be looking like a Harriet by the time you reach Hogwarts!"
"You wouldn't dare!" Harry protested.
"Watch me, kid. I have several pranking years on you!" Then he turned to Biggem and bowed, "Thank you for your consideration, Master Biggem. I have failed to adequately discipline my godson."
"I can't really fault you, Mr. Black. Discipline was not something you were particularly familiar with, yourself." Grinning in the truly hideous manner of Goblins, he continued, "Perhaps we should start with our business today. Firstly, I wish to congratulate you on your escape from Azkaban and your renewed health. It takes guts to face those demons guarding the prison..."
"I beg your pardon, Master Biggem, but the lion's share of this exploit must go to Harry. He planned and managed things so well on his end, that I wasn't troubled by nervousness- something that'd have been a terrible handicap during the mission."
"Indeed, Lord Griffinheart did do a wonderful job with that, but I have seen that island. Every goblin has- it is part of the hardening experience, a rite of passage, if you will, for us. I have seen the only route which is slightly open as far as the dementor presence goes, and it is an extremely arduous way down. That is grit, and determination, that one of the People would be proud of. Don't underplay that."
"Thank you, Master Biggem."
Biggem waved that off. "Mr. Black, as far as business goes, you'll be pleased to note that Gringotts did not let the Black money lie idle. Well we couldn't touch the account as such, but no rule was ever made about the interest accrued. We diverted it through Gringotts accounts for investments and it has grown well," he said rather smugly. "As for your claim to being the Head of your House, as you were never convicted there is no conceivable problem as far as claiming both the Headship and Lordship. However, your exoneration, something that Griffinheart is obviously working towards, would lend it credibility."
Sirius looked at Harry, the question clear in his eyes. Harry didn't hesitate before replying. "Do it, Padfoot. For one, it will ensure that you will get a fair trial. We know the sort of bigots that sit on the Wizengamot. Seeing that a pureblood lord was treated the way you were, will be a kick up their collective arses. Once you do that, I am going to make you my protectorate. Ted's idea was excellent in that. The Protectorate Magic doesn't allow betrayal- automatic exoneration for you from the charge of being the betraying secret-keeper. Though producing Peter in court will work too."
Sirius nodded. He was struck by a sudden idea. "Pup, I want to blood adopt you. Do you consent?"
Harry narrowed his eyes at Sirius before nodding in acceptance.
"Master Biggem, before the Head of House Ritual, I want the adoption process done first, if you don't mind."
"It is a wise choice."
Biggem rang a bell and summoned two assistants. He gave them orders to set up the ritual room for the blood-adoption ritual. As the goblins scurried around readying up things, Harry leaned towards Sirius and asked sotto voce, "What do you want me to call you now?"
Sirius looked at Harry strangely before answering with a question. "What's wrong with Padfoot?"
"You'll be my father now, old dog," Harry replied with a roll of his eyes.
"And we both know that you are well past the stage where you need me as a father. Perhaps, if I had you from that night in 1981, I wouldn't have minded being called Dad, even if it would have made me feel bad and like a fraud taking James' place. Now, when you are taking care of me rather than me of you, it will be outright senseless. Padfoot it'll be. Add to that the fact that we have probably the most irreverent relationship possible," he replied with a one-armed hug.
"I've just one doubt, Padfoot. Once this goes through, I'll be Hadrian Potter-Black. Won't I? Won't it come as such on the school letter?"
Sirius scoffed at that. "Do you know how the letters are sent?"
"No."
"A registry which is synchronised with the school accounts and contains the names of the students, is responsible for the letters. It is updated with the students' academic record which is the last entry of their name for the year. The letter is sent once the fees for the next year are paid."
"So my name will remain Harry Potter for now?"
"Yes. You don't have to use the name Black-Potter if you don't want to, you know..." Sirius said with a sinking feeling.
Harry quashed that immediately. "I want to use it, but not before the trial. If I do, it will make me an accessory to prison break, something that I last knew to be a crime."
Sirius only responded with a chagrined nod. Further conversation was prevented by Biggem's assistants requesting their presence in the ritual room. The room was an ornately decorated hall (the decorations were bejewelled Runes), with several barriers, ritual diagrams and the like ready for use. They were shepherded into the last ritual chamber and were asked to kneel facing each other. A goblin handed each of them a vial of potions of some sort.
The master of ceremony, Rune-master Smasher (an anomaly as far as Goblin names were concerned) bade them both to cut across their right palms and drop seven drops of blood each into the potion vial they held and exchange the vials. He then went into a long chant, one that raised the feeling of love, protection and a familial bond in both. At long last, he turned to Sirius and asked,
"Do you, Sirius Orion Black, willingly accept Hadrian James Potter as your son in blood, by magic, by oath, by law and by the love of a father for his son? Do you willingly promise to protect and cherish him and to induct him into the family as ordained by magic- both by blood and by knowledge? Do you willingly give him rights as you would to a son born of your own flesh?"
"I do," Sirius intoned solemnly, and then at a gesture from Smasher, drank up the now emerald green potion.
"Do you, Hadrian James Potter, willingly accept Sirius Orion Black as your father by blood, by magic, by oath, by law and by the love of a son for his father? Do you willingly promise to obey his orders, to be loyal to him and to fight by his side when the need arises with all your strength and knowledge? Do you accept his place as you would accept your own father by birth?
"I do," Harry replied and drank up the now silver potion.
"Then I declare you father and son by blood from this day onward. So may magic's will be done!"
Harry's dark messy hair went blacker if that was possible, and became slightly longer, while his eyes gained flecks of silver. His demeanour changed to that of an aristocratic, understated elegance. He also gained a couple of inches in height, as did his hands grow in length. He immediately got up and walked over to Sirius and hugged his 'father'. Sirius could only smile.
"Rune-master Smasher, I have two questions. Can it be proven when exactly a person has been blood adopted?"
"No. It causes a change- if miniscule- in the overall genetic makeup of the adopted person, including the body's growth, as you have no doubt experienced, but it will all be naturally intrinsic."
"Wonderful!" Harry exclaimed. "The other question isn't a question, per se, but rather a request. Can you place a kind of compulsion charm centred on me so that anyone who sees me will not think there is any change in the way I look? If the time when Sirius blood adopted me can't be traced, we can let them assume that it was way back before his arrest. The compulsion will make anyone in contact with me to not dispute that."
Both Sirius and Smasher grinned. The boy was rather adept at letting situations develop or managing them to suit his ends- a worthy trait for one with whom the Nation associated. The charm was quickly done, and Hadrian Potter-Black stood tall and proud next to his godfather- his father too, now, by blood.
They returned to Biggem's office, Harry slightly uncomfortable in the clothes and shoes which did not fit him anymore. This was unforeseen and would be remedied later. Biggem, who had been witness to the ritual, returned mere moments later and congratulated the two.
"Now, let's get on with business: The Black Ring. "Do you attest on your honour, life, and magic that you are Sirius Orion Black, and that you come to claim your rightful positions of your own volition?"
"I do, Master Biggem."
"Then, in my position as the keeper of the heritage for the lineage of Black, I Senior Account Manager Biggem, do hereby call forth the ceremonial judgement of purity." A golden flash engulfed the table, as an ornate ceremonial knife with the hilt carved with a hooded snake and a ceremonial bowl with Runes etched onto it appeared in front of Biggem. "The magic of judgement demands to test the claimant. Sirius Orion Black, pay the required drops of blood." They had been expecting the procedure to be similar to Harry's, and were surprised when, as soon as Sirius held the knife, the hood came down upon Sirius' hand and bit him, drawing blood till its eyes were red, and then let the blood stream flow down the blade into the bowl. Like a good little totem of magic it gave a hiss upon completion. A platinum ring affixed with a snake coiled at the top, holding an onyx.
Sirius nodded to Biggem, who nodded back. "I, Sirius Orion Black, by right of inheritance and blood, claim all rights, oaths, possessions, privileges and items as well as debts owed by and to the House, fealty sworn and duties as befitting the Head of the House of Black. So I say, so I claim!" Magic swirled around Sirius, before settling, and perceptibly curing some of Sirius' ills.
"Congratulations, Lord Black. I hope you will be exonerated and engage in fruitful business."
"Thank you, Master Biggem. I have one more request. I wish that my son should wear the Heirs' Ring till I have a son of my own. Of course, that is if he consents."
Harry smiled. "My Lord, I will accept, of course. The condition that you should've children of your own still stands. I shall only be a temporary custodian. I thank you for your grace, My Lord." Sirius nodded. Harry had taken to his teachings well. They completed the naming of the Heir ceremony soon.
"I thank you for your time and patience, Master Biggem. I only wish to intrude upon your time for a little while more. Could you please tell me about the ownership of the Daily Prophet?" Harry gaped at Sirius open-mouthed. This was an avenue that'd escaped him.
"I will send you the details, Lord Black. I suppose there are instructions regarding the ownership?"
"Yes. I want funds transferred to Gringotts' accounts and want a majority share in the Prophet and its allied publications to be transferred over the next six months to me. Let us aim for forty two per cent in the here and now. Gain seven per cent per month. Control information- control the world," he said with a grin.
"I might heartily endorse that, once we are sure of the economic viability and the political consequences of this. It's indeed a good thing that you have returned. The Black family always gave us good business, but your incarceration and the subsequent Death of your Grandfather tied our hands as far as using the money is concerned. Do you have any instructions?"
"Master Biggem, I trust your judgement. Invest as you feel right, but don't forget the non-magical world. That is all I ask. Start off small till I am exonerated; then I'll give you carte blanche over the investments. I would also like you to increase your commission to 10%. From the five% you currently earn." That was it. Sirius had said the magic words. Increase the commission. Biggem was now a powerful ally. "And lastly, if I could so trouble you, I'd be grateful if you sent me the marriage contracts for all daughters of House Black, starting from Dorea Potter nee Black. I wish to confirm that none of the stipulations have been voided in any manner." He saw Harry's questioning look from the corner of his eye and mouthed "later".
"It will be done, Lord Black. Is there anything else?"
"No, Master Biggem. We have imposed on your time for quite a long. Thank you for your time and consideration. May your gold grow and your enemies fall with honour at your blade." They took his leave as they started towards Goldhaul's office.
"Did anyone tell you that you are sneaky, Padfoot?"
"Occasionally, yes," Sirius replied, almost preening.
"What was your idea for the Prophet?"
"I remembered what I saw in your memories. I realised that the biggest newspaper was either held by some Death Eater, or by a politically weak person. As Lord Black, and as the godfather to Lord Gryffindor-Potter-Slytherin-Peverell, I would be neither. In essence, we can control information flow to destroy the Death Eaters."
Harry fell to his knees. "Oh Padfoot of the Marauders, I am not worthy!" He stood up, and then grinned, his eyes alight with mischief. "I've already got an idea for an article."
Sirius merely raised his eyebrow.
"Well, you will have absolutely nothing to do once I leave for Hogwarts. I want you to get a complete list of only purebloods that were killed while fighting the first war. Tom Riddle was not a pureblood, but had delusions of being one. We need to show them that purebloods killed other purebloods, destroying their own way of life."
"A worthy plan, but I wouldn't mention Riddle's origins. It would be misconstrued as a half-blood lording over purebloods. We could release that information, but not for many, many years. It should be at a time when Tom Riddle will be at most a gruesome footnote."
Harry had to agree to that.
They soon reached Goldhaul's office, where they found the elderly goblin lounging around- listening to the Beatles! When he saw them he just waved them over genially, before realising his situation and resuming his fierce, prim and proper goblin demeanour. While Sirius and Harry struggled to keep straight faces, Goldhaul glared at them. "I suppose business will have to wait till you have both had your moment of fun," he said with heated resignation. Sirius and Harry wasted no time in chortling mutely before bringing their mirth under control.
"I am sorry, Master Goldhaul. It was just difficult to ever imagine you indulging in something as mundane as the Beatles."
"I'll have you know, Griffinheart, that Goblins have a rich culture. The stern warrior facade that we have is true, yes, but we have to direct it to our customers to ensure that we are treated with respect. Otherwise, we do engage in spots of muggle fun. I'll have you know that Gringotts routinely funds several sports clubs, musical bands- though I never know why they are called that, and has a film producing arm too. The rider is that the ones being funded should know about the magical world."
"Do you cater to non-magical people?"
"Sorry?" asked Goldhaul. It was disconcerting for a goblin to be put on the back-foot about business of any sort.
"Does Gringotts provide banking solutions to non-magical people?"
"We would, if we weren't bound by the law regarding such interactions. We at Gringotts can hardly interact with muggles, can we? It will destroy the Statute of secrecy."
Harry looked at Goldhaul with a wholly amused smirk, something that the Goblin did not like at all.
"You get away with a lot of impropriety, Griffinheart," Goldhaul grumbled. "What's got you smiling like a goblin that has drunk my grog?"
"It is amusing," replied Harry, "that the Nation subscribes to Wizards' law, and does not find the simple way of getting around it."
"You better explain yourself."
"Humans, Master Goldhaul, the answer is humans. You employ humans as curse-breakers and intermediaries for non-magical investments. Why not employ newbloods and squibs as the non-magical faces of your entry into the banking sector in the mundane world? They aren't bound by the laws, if they want to work in the mundane world, are they? Start off by offering special offers to parents of half-bloods and newbloods, as they know magic, and let them reap the profits of your acumen. Every person likes making money, so the word of mouth advertisement will push your business to very high profits."
Harry could see that Goldhaul was doing his absolute best to not gape at Harry. Evidently, Gringotts hadn't done that. "I will pass on your recommendations to the Lord Director, post haste, my Lord."
Harry only raised an eyebrow, before answering. "Do not be angry, Master Goldhaul. The Lord Director did tell me to be his eyes and ears in a world that remains, unfortunately, ignorant of such a fine race as yours. And I believe we had decided to dispense with the 'Lord' and 'my lord' appellations."
"Yes, we did do that," agreed Goldhaul. "I suppose your suggestion was not the only business that you had with me today?"
"No. Please forgive my atrocious manners, Master Goldhaul, Lord Black. I was caught up in the moment. Master Goldhaul, this is Lord Sirius Orion Black, lord of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, and also my father by blood. My Lord, please meet Senior Accounts Manager Goldhaul, Account Manager for the Potter Accounts, and I hope I can say, my friend, personally." Both smiled widely at that.
"Master Goldhaul, I had three matters of discussion today. Firstly, as you can see, Lord Black is free, and has assumed his duties as my family and guardian. I suppose that the betrothal, business or legal contracts that you had pointed me towards may be brought to his attention. I would like his guidance, as well as yours. Master Biggem has some documents to send to Lord Black. If it suits you, I would be thankful to you."
"Indeed. That shall be done."
Harry then asked for a piece of parchment and a quill. He wrote:
The Marauders' Place can be found at #2, 4, 6, Privet Drive, Little Whinging; Surrey.
"It is customary among humans to invite their friends to their homes. I would be very honoured to extend my home's hospitality to anyone of the Nation. I will be available at your convenience, assuming of course that I haven't been insensitive to the beliefs and customs of the people in any way." Goldhaul nodded. He had long since decided not to be surprised by Griffinheart's actions. He simply wasn't like other wizards. This was respect, and Griffinheart sure knew how to get past the defences of a goblin too.
"I thank you, Griffinheart. It is refreshing to see your attitude, against that of other witches and wizards."
"I said it before, Master Goldhaul. I think of you as a friend, and I am simply extending the same courtesy to you and the Nation. I would like to do so for the Lord Director too, but I believe it will be a tremendous breach of propriety."
"That it would be," Goldhaul acknowledged. "But don't worry about that. The gesture will be acknowledged in the spirit in which it has been made. Now, what's the next order of business?"
"I would like to go through my properties and holdings. I would also like to see my parents' will."
"Of course; do wait while I retrieve the ledgers. I can't show you the Will, however. I need a Ministry licensed executor- one who is allowed to execute the Will in case of disputed or long-dormant wills. Though once you take up oath of office in the Wizengamot, you will be allowed to demand it."
While Goldhaul went around doing just that, Harry was struck by an idea. "Padfoot, do you think it would be a bad idea to ask for a secure vault where we can use Fiendfyre without any ill effects?"
"I don't think we should ask them for a vault to store Tom's Horcruxes in, frankly. It would be pushing the matter a bit too far. No, I don't think we should do that. What I think we should do is get a secure place, once I am free and get them to ward it. I would go so far as to say that we should erect blood wards and passwords that only those whose blood powers the ward know. You won't know mine, and I won't know yours."
"That makes sense."
Sirius suddenly smiled deviously. "Well, what would you think if we bought the Riddle Manor for that purpose? It will be a right little prank. Remember, he was holed up there the last time around. He will go insane in that baby form, if that's how he decides to return, when he sees that he'll be unable to get the trinkets and also lost his hidey hole."
"That'd be too blatant, even if I like the idea. Still it is something we can look up. I just hope that the Potter Grimoire can help us. I am truly not looking forward to breaking the wards on that Gaunts' family shack. I keep remembering what happened to Dumbledore."
Sirius looked rather green as he too remembered Dumbledore's hand. He felt squeamish.
Goldhaul soon returned with the ledgers, and set them on the table in front of the duo. "Lord Potter, please press your ring here. Sign with this blood quill next to it..." The process was repeated for all four ledgers to be able to open either of them. Once he was done, Goldhaul set them all aside for their perusal.
Sirius was conversant with the Potter Ledger, having signed in it once before as an authorised signatory the day he had been made Harry's godfather. The idea was that if the worst happened, the two would live till the danger passed in any of the Potter Houses. There was the Potter Manor by the sea coast just north of Aberdeen. There was also the cottage in Godric's Hollow which was apparently one of a quartet, bought for each member of the Marauders. The next entry made Harry go almost insane with laughter- #8, Privet Drive, Little Whinging; Surrey- Mrs. Figg's place. Sirius looked at Harry, then at the entry and he too couldn't stifle the snort that escaped him. There was a duplex apartment barely a street away from the Arsenal Railway Station (Gillespie Road), evidently for their club loyalty. Harry could feel a twinge of it himself- it would be an acquired taste, but still something he would inherit from his parents.
That apart, Harry had inherited from his grandfather something that he would eventually find priceless. Apparently, Charlus had been one, big car lover. He had collected legends across decades. There was a 1936 Rolls-Royce Phantom-III, V12 limousine and a 1931 Bentley 8.0 litre, both in the British Racing green. There were four Jaguars up to 1980, a pair of Aston Martins, two more Bentleys, three Morris' and a wartime Jeep. Sirius wept- wept when he read that. "He had promised me he would leave me the Jeep! I will duel you for it!" he growled amid mock tears. There were also 6 million galleons in cash, and ten million more in investments and holdings.
The Gryffindor properties weren't as much material. It was mainly the notes, experiments and prototypes of the earliest versions of the pensieve, several books on Arithmancy (Harry was shocked to find that Godric taught Arithmancy and transfiguration), the Lion's Den south of Wrexham- which was under a Death Fidelius, and the sword and the shield which had gone missing. The Gryffindor Grimoire was placed in the Den.
The Slytherin property- the Herpetarium, was a Manor in Whitehaven proper. That was all there was on land. Slytherin had been a huge fan of placing ships in bottles- but had extended it magically to a little shy of madness. He had decided to take things a step further by shrinking real ships part by part and fitting them in, then sealing the whole thing up with an unbreakable charm. The coup de grace was what he decided to do with them thereafter. Placing the bottle on water, would restore the ship to its original size. And he had collected fifteen of those. Harry owned fifteen ships.
"Are you reading what I am reading?" he asked Sirius.
"I am, but it is a lot to take in. Seriously, what was the man thinking, collecting fifteen ships? It is not really a stretch then when they called him insane," he replied with not a little shock.
"I am learning more about my ancestors than I ever bargained for," Harry muttered.
"I don't get it. I thought they owned the Castle and lived there," wondered Sirius with a frown.
"No. The Castle has always been of...itself," Harry automatically responded with the Rings' knowledge. "But I can totally understand why. Lots of angsty teens and magic wouldn't have been a good thing for their continued sanity."
"Oh. Yes I can see that," said Sirius with a contemplative look. "A nice gentleman comes along and says, "Thou doth not respondeth to my request for an amorous fumble," to which the Lady replies, "Thine request asketh for my chastity! I yieldeth not!" Then both get angry and hexes start flying. I can absolutely see why the four founders would want to get away from that."
They then took up the Peverell ledger. It listed only two properties. One was a large house where the Shrieking Shack now stood. The other property made Harry shout and dance about in glee. It was the Gaunts' family shack. Of course it was a large property by the standards of the late sixth century, but years of penury had turned it into what it was now. He was joined a moment later by Sirius' shout of happiness, before he settled down to a confused expression, his hands still held aloft. "If Salazar was the Peverell heir, and the Gaunts were Salazar's heirs, how did the Gaunts end up with the Peverell properties?"
"I believe that may be a similar quandary to what Harry finds himself in," interrupted Goldhaul. "Harry has to, by law, separate the lines. Salazar might have married a witch for the Peverell line who was a blood snob herself, or was a pureblood witch who got jealous of his wife for the Slytherin name, Arlene, who- as Griffinheart told us- was a newblood. Blood purity issues may have their genesis, and may have perpetuated down the Peverell line, after all. Again, the Gaunts' claim that they were the last descendants of Slytherin wasn't misplaced at all. Unfortunately, the Slytherin may have gone extinct in the male line sometime in the intervening period, and there were no counters to the rising blood purity ideals of the only living male descendants of Slytherin- the Peverells, who may have changed the name as their fortunes failed or passed on their ideology to the Gaunts when they became extinct in the male line again."
"That probably makes sense," Harry acknowledged, but Sirius cut him off.
"No. It doesn't. If it were so, Harry could have claimed the Peverell line by conquest, and not Slytherin's. We already know that Harry is a blood heir of the Peverells through Ignotus- not the blood heir, as, if what Goldhaul says is true, that'd be Voldemort. How did he claim the Peverell line by blood and the Slytherin line by conquest?"
"Why do these things have to be so convoluted?" Harry groaned.
"Maybe they aren't, Griffinheart," Goldhaul replied kindly. "You have encountered the sentience of family magic with the Gryffindor ring. Is it so much of a stretch that the Slytherin ring may be the same? It is possible that a Lord Gaunt killed the last Lord Slytherin, and tried to claim both the lines. It is probable, I should say. It is also probable that when Riddle lost his body all those years ago, the Peverell magic considered him dead, irrespective of whether or not his soul had left the mortal plane. As he had no blood heirs himself, the Peverell line came to the last living descendent- you. You claimed the Peverell Headship before you claimed the Slytherin Headship. The sentience in the Slytherin Ring- which, if I remember right, held a conversation with you- judged you to be a worthy ring-holder, and allowed you to claim the mantle."
"That makes sense," Sirius said, nodding in agreement, prompting Goldhaul to smirk a bit.
"Now that we have settled this rather inane matter, what was it that you actually wanted to ask me, Griffinheart?"
"It relates to the Peverells and Gaunts and Slytherins, actually- more specifically, Tom Riddle. For one, I am pretty sure that Tom lied that night in the Chamber. He was a greedy and amoral person. He may have started out with a plan for seven soul pieces, but I have a feeling that he may have eventually settled for more- nine or thirteen. Nine, though not arithmantically a significant number, is a number related to regeneration. Then there is thirteen, a number powerful in myths and Arithmancy. Moreover, I am also pretty sure that I have found one."
That caused Goldhaul to slack a bit. "I can't fault your logic. But if you have found one, I will have to inform the Lord Director."
"That was my intention, but I wasn't sure how I was supposed to approach him. Actually I have not one, but two. My Peverell Ring just told me that there is one in the Gaunt Shack."
"Outstanding!" exclaimed Goldhaul. "That's wonderful news indeed! Would you like the audience of His Majesty?"
"I am not sure. You see, Sirius is very sure that the Black family library contains knowledge about these abominations. I intend to first check all the Grimoires that I have inherited for more knowledge. What I would appreciate, though, is if you would be kind enough to keep the Lord Director updated on my behalf. With his permission, I would also like to tell Chief Bones about it. One of the things is in the British Magical Museum, in the section where they house the artefacts of famous personalities. The other as I told you, is in the Gaunt Shack- that is the one I am not worried about, as it has Parseltongue wards, so only Riddle and I will be able to access it."
"That shall be done. I will relay this to the Lord Director immediately. Expect him to command your presence, however."
"I'll be available at his convenience," Harry replied with a bow. "The last thing that I need to discuss is regarding the monetary possessions of the Peverell, Slytherin and Gryffindor accounts. They are practically bankrupt accounts. As of now, I want fifteen percent of profits diverted to each of the three accounts. You will now take ten percent. The remaining forty five will go back to the Potter accounts. I need you Master Goldhaul, to collaborate with Hightab, Rubyclaw and Biggem to invest repeatedly and aggressively, and increase the monetary holdings...Goldhaul are you alright?" The Garnarukro had started gaping at some point above Harry's head. Harry was really scared. "GOLDHAUL!" he yelled.
"Huh?"
"What's the matter with you?"
"Do you know what you said? Ten percent? Ten percent of the profits for us?"
"Yes, Sirius gave the same to Biggem," Harry told the account manager in barely veiled confusion. Biggem had not reacted this way after all.
"I assure you that those will be the four richest vaults from now on!" the goblin gushed. "You spoke our language! Be ready for the riches!"
Harry and Sirius exchanged amused glances. They decided to take leave of Goldhaul. Whatever had gotten into him was certainly big – no Garnarukran nearly lost his senses. It was just not done.
"And don't just take my suggestions for mundane banking under advisement. I want it done. Half of the money should be invested on the non-magical side!"
"Yes Griffinheart! It shall be done."
"Good. Because otherwise I will simply withdraw and transfer the money to mundane account and have it invested there..." It was a good long and heavy stick to go with the carrot.
"Understood," responded the Garnarukro tersely. He hadn't been given too much time to celebrate.
"Thank you, Goldhaul. I should take your leave now. May gold encrust every nook and cranny of your home, and may your enemies tremble in fear at your name."