Harry spent the next 12 hours in a healing coma in the Gringotts infirmary. His bones had been regrown. It would have been agonising if they had not taken the opportunity to do it while he was unconscious.
The process had evolved a lot of finicky paralysis spells to keep everything in place while they vanished all the bones that had to be replaced. Thankfully, he slept through the worst of the Skele-Gro pain.
He woke up groggy, slowly fighting his way from the dark cloud of exhaustion that was trying to pull him under again.
He felt like an overexposed, raw nerve; over sensitive. That was the first thing he noticed. Then he noticed his bones aching. His hands really had been burned in the ritual somehow. They were heavily bandaged and smelt of Dittany and Mertlap Essence, to name a few.
Harry blinked and looked around. He could sense only one person in the room. A goblin that did not feel like Rodgrip. Harry blinked again, his brain feeling fuzzy, not sure suddenly, how to politely get a goblins attention if you weren't meant to speak first...
He sat up on the surprisingly comfortable and soft, stone bed, swinging his aching legs over the side, feeling around blindly for his glasses. The goblin spun around and came towards him, making Harry flinch.
The goblin shoved something into his hands. His glasses. He put them on as the strange goblin made a pinching motion near him. Harry pulled back sharply, wide-eyed, at the sudden movement. Not even concisely aware of raising his arms in defence. The goblin just looked at him sharply, as if to say 'you idiot,' waiting for him to lower his hands. Harry did so partially, glaring at the goblin defensively. The goblin rolled his eyes and then repeated the motion and peered at something just to the left of his left ear and nodded before leaving.
Harry blinked.
A moment later, Rodgrip reappeared.
"Riptooth has checked you over," Rodgrip said, "Your bones are fixed, the foreign magic is gone. You are almost free. You are almost well."
Harry nodded groggily, not feeling anything at all.
"You have an appointment on Wednesday night at 10 o'clock. It is now Monday night. We shall then talk about what further healing you need and look at your vaults and claiming them properly then." Rodgrip said.
Harry nodded.
"I expect from how you are trying to get off the bed that you wish to return to your lodgings?" Rodgrip asked, "do you need Cursebreaker Weasley to escort you? I can have him woken."
Harry shook his head, "I'll be okay. Thanks, though."
He didn't want anyone to know he was living in his mum's trunk on a rooftop.
There was a pop, and he stumbled as he jumped. He winced as a small hand, steadied him. Everything ached. He felt like he had the flu again.
"Dobby and Winky, be looking after Little Master Harry Potter sir!" The elf squeaked.
"Thank's Dobby," Harry said, tiredly trying in vain to force the exhaustion back.
"Make sure he gets plenty of rest and good food," the healer, Riptooth, said to Dobby, coming back into the room. "Lots of that nutrient potion he was on before if he's not to eat. A mouthful every hour while he's this poorly. A full bottle if he skips a meal; at least until I see him on Wednesday night. And don't use your magic yet!" He directed at Harry.
Dobby nodded, his ears flapping and popped away with an exhausted and bewildered Harry. They reappeared on the roof he'd been staying on. His trunk was already set-up and warded. Dobby and Winky must have done it, he thought distantly.
Dobby popped him down the ladder and hustled him into bed. Winky handed him a hot jar of bluebell flames to curl up around, some broth and a spoon full of potion.
He managed the potion and a mouthful or two of the broth before falling asleep.
As he slept Winky and Dobby quietly set up a small yule wreath, and a small tree they'd found shrunk in one of Miss Lily's drawers when it had become apparent that their wizard was going to sleep through it.
He woke up briefly on Tuesday night. Everything hurt. His body wracked with cold shivering. Everything was too loud, a migraine pounded behind his temples, leftover from having his Mage Senses so heightened. He felt like one giant exposed nerve-ending. Everything was too much, too raw. He felt too much.
Winky stoked the fire, smothered him with hot charmed blankets and fed him potions before she would let him sleep again. And despite himself, it was nice to be cared for.
He woke up on Wednesday evening, and blessedly, no longer felt sick, or as sore. He was just tired. Bone tired. The magic around the trunk felt loud, and he still felt like an exposed nerve.
He had always been able to sense magic lightly, just a hint in people, places, beings and things. But now it was like opening his eyes for the first time. The magic he could sense was so much stronger, like the world had been at a whisper before, all in greyscale, and was now suddenly filled with colour and sound.
His own magic felt just as loud. A warm feeling in his chest he now hardly had to think about to feel. He took a moment to take a deep breath and try to get his senses to settle. He took another deep breath and breathed it out, long and slow.
And it was all connected. He could have meditated on it for hours getting lost in the flow of magic inside himself and where it connected to the magic of the universe in everything else. But something warned him that getting lost in the wild magic he could sense in the earth beneath him, could very well be his end. So he just focused on his own, tentatively poking it with his mind, caressing it, becoming familiar with it. It was like a warm hug, permanently in his chest. With him, all the time.
He could feel the magic in plants and magical items now. Before, it was just a vague sense of something in strongly magical areas and in people. But now, he could feel the magic permeating every bit for the trunk; in the potions, in the ingredients, in the blanket on the bed... it was softer now. But when he put his hand on the black and green blanket, the magic in it was closer, more intense and he got the impression he couldn't quite make sense of; almost a shadow of someone.
Harry opened his eyes and blinked. After having them shut and focusing so intently on the magic around him, he half expected to be able to see it too. Thankfully, the magic he could feel so strongly before when focusing, was a little more distant now; in the background, now that he had his eyes open.
He headed into the bathroom for a shower and gaped. His hair! It was longer! His fringe had grown out and was hanging either side of his face around his chin. The rest of the normally appallingly messy hair was hanging just past his shoulders! Almost dead straight and mostly, behaved!
It grew! The bindings must have been stopping it. He rummaged around in the drawers and found one of his mum's old brushes. He'd never had to brush it before, and frankly, there was never any point. It was an odd sensation, he thought, as he gently ran the brush through his hair, tentatively trying to tug out the knots. He brushed the hair out of his face and tucked his too-long-fringe behind his ears.
He liked the long hair, he realised. Even if it did make him look rather pale, and thin, framing his face like that. His scar was visible now, though. He wondered if he should try chopping himself a fringe to hide it, or if it would just grow back...
He thought of what he'd read and heard about Metamorphmagi and thought very hard on his scar. It prickled slightly, and he could feel again that small ball of black in his forehead surrounded by his mum's protection. He screwed up his eyes in concentration, thinking very hard on an image of his scar moving.
It... didn't exactly hurt... but it was like his skin was moving and shifting. And not at all pleasant. It trailed up his forehead into his hairline. He opened his eyes when it stopped. And grinned.
No more scar! And with long hair, he might not be recognised! He still needed to be cautious, but if he could change his appearance, then he could walk around without having to hide! What else could he do?!
He worked out that changing the colour of his hair was easy if he was growing it that colour. But changing the colour without growing it that colour was harder. He had to focus on it staying that way, like the colour needed to set for a moment before he let the magical focus go. He managed to grow his nails, and change his eye colour slightly, to blue-green, and to a dark green that looked black. But he didn't manage to change them to blue or brown without them stinging.
He managed to get them to hazel though, and changed his hair to brown, and rummaged around in the drawer for a hair tie. He managed to gather it into a messy ponytail. He was relieved that he'd watched Hermione and Bill do it so often. He almost felt like he knew what he was doing, and didn't feel like a complete idiot, trying to figure it out.
He examined himself then critically in the mirror. He'd lost weight again, he sighed, during the ritual. He was looking thin again now, underfed and gaunt. He wondered if he could change that too...
He concentrated and focused on sending his magic into his cheeks. He felt a burning in his bones, and tingling in his skin, but couldn't make anything happen. He frowned, but changing his hair and eye colour was pretty good. He looked different enough.
That and he was so tired now, after all that experimenting, he had to run himself a bath and sit down instead of taking a shower. His joints ached again as if he were recovering from the flu, and despite the excitement, he didn't have much energy to feel anything.
Harry managed to dress and put the trunk in his bag and clamber down to the alley floor. He could feel the Nocturne guard eyeing him. He acted small and invisible, hoping to be ignored. He was too tired. Maybe he should have let Dobby escort him...
Someone tried to grab him. They went for his wand hand, so he kneed them in the balls and hit them hard, in the face with the handle of his knife. They grunted, collapsing to the ground. He hurried on not looking back.
He was left alone after that as he wove his way in and out of the early evening crowd towards Gringotts. He was too tired to watch his back, so he didn't protest this time, when Dobby appeared, escorting him. Just as well too, as he saw a few shadows in the mouths of the side alleys that felt slightly sinister.
Be the time he got to Gringotts and was escorted to the infirmary, he was shaking with exhaustion and ready to sleep. He could also feel the colour in his eyes fading back to his normal green, but his hair was still a light brown. Interesting.
Harry shuffled carefully into the infirmary, and the same goblin healer, Riptooth, from before stalked over to him. He said nothing but eyed Riptooth warily. But instead, the goblin just ordered, "on the bed. Let's have a look at you."
Harry eased himself up onto one of those strangely soft stone beds and snorted as he listened to the goblin mutter under his breath.
"How do you feel," he said, turning back to Harry and snapping his fingers by Harry's ear making him flinch.
Crap was his first thought.
Instead, he said, "tired," as the goblin peered at something Harry could not see, "flu-y." He added his words slurring
"That is to be expected," Rodgrip said, entering the room.
"You and your magic are still run down. You need rest and a good Pepper-up potion," the healer said.
"Heads messy," Harry muttered, "feel weak and achy, light-headed. All these things bouncin' around m' head, all the old things and the remnants of the spelled bits and I don't know what to do anymore. Everythin' is screaming 'danger, danger Will Robinson.' 'm tired," Harry slurred, with surprising honesty that confused and frightened him.
"Who is Will Robinson?" Riptooth asked, looking stumped.
"Must be a human expression," Rodgrip muttered to the healer.
The goblin made a 'humph' noise and said, "drink that," handing Harry a red potion that he recognised to be a very strong Pepper-up.
He took the proffered red potion, but his hands shook so much he had trouble with the stopper. The goblin yanked it back from him with a glare, but opened it, and shoved it towards his mouth. Harry had to open quickly, so the goblin didn't pour it down his front.
The potion felt like lightning and sparkles and tickled. He could feel the heat of its magic seeping into his own and gasped as steam started pouring out his ears and surprisingly his nose too. He breathed out a short laugh as he felt the strength of the potion infuse with his own.
He felt a tingling at his scalp, and a strand fell of hair into his face, growing longer. He went cross-eyed looking at it as it turned bright yellow then red as the steam continued to billow out his ears.
The steam stopped as he felt the magic of the potion settle. He looked interestingly at his hair and watched, bemused, as it faded back to black. He brushed it out of his eyes and hooked it behind his ear again.
"Thanks. Does Pepper-up normally do that?" he asked brightly, feeling much better than he had in a long time.
"The steam yes, and it can have odd effects on Metamorphmagi as well. You'll need to work with it now it is unblocked. It could be hypersensitive now it is free." Rodgrip explained.
Harry bit back a full grin and instead said, "I played with it this morning. I hid my scar too." Harry said quietly pleased, running a hand over his smooth forehead.
"That is good," Rodgrip said, "the fact you can access those blocked abilities already. What else do you feel now that the ritual is done?"
Harry turned his attention internally again and was able to push things back and be colder and analytical.
"I can feel magic more and people too. I used to be sensitive to them, vague emotions and such. Now I'm picking up on some thoughts and things. I noticed when I was leaving earlier." Harry said slowly.
"That will be the mind art aptitude. You'll have an easier time learning occlumency now, and you'll need to start working on Legillimency too to get that under control. Curse Breaker Weasley will tutor you. You should be able to organise extra lessons between you while you are here." Rodgrip explained, "you'll also want to practice with your magic. It will be volatile for a little while. You'll be prone to overpowering spells.
Harry nodded, "I feel like myself again, but it feels odd. Like there are gaps. I can feel it in the magic, little knots. And when I did some Occlumency exercises, I noticed little bumps, like scar tissue in my mind. It was odd. I think if I keep working on Occlumency and get to know my mind better, I think I'll be able to narrow down where and what's missing" Harry said, thinking aloud.
"That will be the Obliviates. Now the Confundus charms are removed you can sense it. We can test it for dates, but it will not help undo them." Rodgrip explained.
"And you are not yet well enough," added in Riptooth, "come back over the summer when you've finished the course of potions I'm about to put you on. Now, does anything else feel off?"
Harry thought about it. He hadn't thought so... But now his magic was settling he was starting to notice other things. He didn't want to admit it, but something did still feel odd.
His body felt different, slightly unusual. He frowned. What was it?
"Somethings wrong with me I think though..." He said, slowly closing his eyes and shifting his attention inwards again. It was harder to focus on his body now he could suddenly feel his magic. It felt new and loud still. He was not yet used to it. He scanned his body mentally trying to figure out what felt so weird. What was missing?
"You have been scanned," Riptooth said, "you are fine, if in need of some nutrition and vitamin potions. There is nothing wrong with you wizard other than the needing of a few good meals. You're underweight, from the ritual sapping your reserves. No more missing meals, three full meals a day. If you miss one, send your elf here for a different nutrient potion."
Harry nodded absently, "something doesn't feel right. It feels weird. Somethings..." He trailed off.
"Are you in pain?" Riptooth snapped.
Harry gaped. That's what it was! Nothing hurt. He didn't hurt anymore. His eyes filled involuntarily.
"No," he breathed out, awed, "it doesn't hurt any more. It doesn't hurt." He muttered to himself, staring at his hands as if he'd never seen them before.
He'd always been hurting, always at minimum low-level pain for as long as he could remember. He didn't ever remember not being in pain. His legs and hands, his feet, his ribs. Something had always ached.
He stared at himself, mouth open, his eyes stinging. He squeezed them shut, knowing better than to cry. Goddess, he could not remember the last time something didn't hurt. Relief washed through him like cool rain after a hot day.
"It doesn't hurt any more," he muttered, "it doesn't hurt anymore! I didn't know what that felt like."
He held his suddenly shaky hands up in front of him, moving them. His mouth opened slightly as he looked at his pale fingers. He wiggled them tentatively. It didn't hurt. There was nothing impeding the movement anymore. The fingers that had been crooked before were now straight, his knuckles no longer hard and swollen. Each of his fingers moved freely without the muscles pulling painfully. He flexed his hands a little more confidently, moving his wrists around.
He could hold a quill now, he thought with glee. He hadn't realised until now just how bad the problem was. But now he could move his fingers, and his hands in ways he couldn't before! He'd be able to hold and write with a quill properly now! It would be legible now!
He wiggled his toes and rolled his ankles, swinging his legs experimentally. Nothing hurt. He could feel the muscles that used to be tight and knotted were now okay.
"It doesn't hurt!" He said, looking up, not quite able to completely hide his awe.
"Well, of course, it doesn't hurt any more wizard!" Riptooth snapped as if Harry were dim.
"While you were out, not only did we fix your bones, but we did a healing ritual on you. It has not fixed everything. You still need work, but the old issues have mostly been fixed. You'll have potions to take mind you though, for a while, to get you back up to snuff."
"Thank you so much, Master Healer Riptooth," Harry said reverently, offering him a deep, respectful bow.
The goblin gave the correct bow in response and said, "right then. Now that's sorted out, here." He said, thrusting a box of potions at Harry.
"A nutrient potion every morning and night to combat your chronic malnutrition and vitamin deficiencies. It will repair your innards from the damage the starvation did. I've spoken to your elves. They know how to help you best food-wise. Listen to them. And don't skip any meals!"
He glared at Harry who nodded before he continued, "there is a bone potion every night. It is a mild Skele-Gro to build up the strength in your bones that they lack at the moment. It's mild enough that it won't hurt. You shouldn't feel much at all from it. Though if you're sensitive to potion magic now, you may feel something." The goblin explained, pointing to a different colour.
"You also have an immuno-booster potion every morning and night to get you up to snuff. When the box is empty, send it back with your elves. We will top it up. Are you taking any other potions at the moment?" He asked
"No," Harry said, shaking his head.
"Good. Rodgrip will put my coordinates into your Gringotts box. Check first before you take anything you are not 100% sure of. Most basic health potions should be fine, but do not take any mood or mind-altering potions or sedatives of any kind, Pepper-up is okay. Though, if you need one, I want to know about it." Riptooth sneered.
"I understand. Thanks," Harry said, putting the box in his bag.
"You will also have to be very careful of magical exhaustion. You're not miraculously fixed. Your body took a serious beating as a child." Riptooth said, "while the healing negates a lot of nasty long term consequences of your abuse, and returns you to being healthy, there are still things to be aware of."
Riptooth levelled Harry with a glare, and he nodded, listening attentively.
"You have new bones and joints. All physical damage has been healed, and your magic freed. But, your body and magic will remember the trauma it went through. It will need time to heal that memory, even if it is physically better. Your bones and joints may be prone to aching when sick or when you're exhausted, especially when you are magically exhausted. Not as bad as before, I expect. But it may be there. Just for a few years as it fully recovers."
"Crucio and pain curses," he continued, "while they won't hurt you more than anyone else, their effects will linger as your body and magic has already been traumatised. It will remember that trauma when triggered by pain curses."
Harry nodded. He'd never felt Crucio before, and he hoped dearly to never feel it.
"It will settle as you get older, but look after yourself. You're body and magic has been through the wars. Physically you're healed, but your soul also needs to."
Harry nodded and said, "I'll do my best."
"See that you do," Riptooth said, "your stomach may be sensitive to stress for a while too, but should not have any issues with food any more if you finish the course of nutrient potions."
Harry beamed, "thank you."
Riptooth smirked slightly and nodded.
"Does this mean I can use my magic now? Or do I need to hold off a bit?" Harry asked, not bothering to hide his eagerness.
"You can just be cautious at first. It will likely be different now that it is unbound," the gruff goblin said, before adding, "now that's me done. Get out of my ward. Don't come back injured. I don't want my hard work undone," he snapped.
But Harry did not take it as an insult and merely beamed and thanked him again sincerely, before following Rodgrip back to her office.
Before Harry could even say 'Hello,' Bill was at his side and wrapping him into a warm and gentle hug. Harry flinched away, his self-preservation instincts a lot higher since the ritual. But after a moment he was able to hug Bill back tightly. Bill's magic was louder like this when Harry was touching him. Or maybe Harry was just more sensitive now. Solid and warm and protective, comforting and just Bill. It was nice friendly magic. Like Bill was.
"You okay? Rodgrip said you were, but I was really worried!" Bill said. "It nearly killed you! Your hands were burning, and you were bleeding from your eyes and nose and ears, from everywhere! We don't often see rituals that intense!"
Harry felt warm at the young man's concern and said, "I'm okay, Bill. I was wrecked afterwards, but I feel great now. Nothing hurts! And my fingers all work right! It's great! I don't hurt any more! Not at all!" Harry said excitedly wiggling his fingers in demonstration at his new range of motion.
Bill looked heartbroken for a moment but instead said, "I'm really glad for you, Harry. And the hair!"
Harry grinned, "you were right. It behaves when it's longer. I had it long and light brown when I was in the alley. I managed to change my eye colour and moved my scar so no one will recognise me. It was great! I can't make myself taller yet, though."
"Brilliant! Well done!"
Rodgrip cut in and said, "here," she handed Harry the blood quill and parchment.
He wrote his full name on it and watched as the quill jumped up and started writing.
This time it mentioned no spells, potions or wards. It mentioned improved health and a binding. But when Harry then did the magic test again, he was disappointed to see the Soul Shard was still there. But at least this time it was 'detached & contained,' by his mother's protection magic. At least there was nothing else.
Rodgrip swore in Goblin tongue, violently and said something fast in Goblin to Bill, who nodded.
"I thought I felt something this morning," Harry said, heaving a sigh.
Rodgrip sighed as well, "so the only thing left behind was the Soul Shard. Surprisingly enough, your mother's protection has wrapped itself around the Soul Shard, keeping you somewhat protected from it. You're lucky it's small and that you managed to detach it from your own soul. So while you will still have that link, it will not be able to feed off of your magic. It is mostly one way. You'll be able to feel and sense Riddle, but we do not think it will work the other way round. We do not think he will be able to feel you, without significant effort on his part or strong un-occluded emotion on your part.
There was so much magic it seemed the two purging potions were not enough. You needed a more potent brew it seems, a master's brew. Even then, I don't think it would have been enough. It has separated it from your soul, which is good, however. So we just need to figure out how to get rid of it."
"To destroy a Soul Shard, you destroy the container." Rodgrip went on bluntly, "we shall have to work out how to kill it without killing you."
"Muggles can re-start hearts with electricity," Harry suggested, "how long would I need to be dead for? Could we not just stop my heart for a bit then re-start it?" Harry asked
"Not likely," Rodgrip said, "you'd need to be properly dead for the soul to leave and you'd not likely to come back from that. Resuscitation only works when the soul has not left. If it has not left, you're not dead enough for the Soul Shard to leave."
"A dementor? they suck souls..." Harry suggested with a shiver, "I guess we just need to get it to suck just that bit, and not mine too..." He continued.
"Yes, they're terribly cooperative," Rodgrip drolled sarcastically making Harry laugh.
"They are more likely to take it and your soul with them," Bill said.
"We'll have to do some research." Rodgrip said, "Luckily, the magic from your mother is containing it," she went on. "But you will need to work harder to learn to occlude, to stay free of it. Your mothers magic is keeping it from sensing you and feeding off your magic, but if Riddle were to get stronger-"
"Which he is," Harry cut in. "He's coming back. He has Wormtail with him, and a servant at Hogwarts. He's using it to get to me for some reason. He's coming back. And by the sounds of it, he's probably got more than this one. He'll keep coming back with these Soul Shards until their all gone, and he's stopped."
"He probably will try and come back fully. He's a determined moron like that, an obsessive one at that," Rodgrip snapped. "But Riddle is a human. Therefore he is a human problem. Let the wizards clean up their own messes for a change. It is not a Gringotts problem."
"It's not my problem either." Harry snapped, "but I'll get dragged into it, am being dragged into it."
"And what has that got to do with Gringotts?" Rodgrip snapped right back, "you just went through a painful ritual burning to free yourself from someone who wanted to make you a child soldier. And now you talk as if you want to rush into war."
"I don't!" Snapped Harry throwing his hands up in exasperated fury. "I don't want any more to do with the moronic asshole any more than you do. But you know we won't have much choice in the end. Mum died trying to save me. He was after me. Not my parents. I showed him up, so he has a point to prove now." Harry explained in a cold, harsh voice looking the goblin in the eye, daring her to disagree with him.
"Dumbledore knows about the bit of him in me. He'll use me. He's used me as a lure before and keeps trying to make me a pawn. I will be dragged into it. I don't want to be, but when both the main sides are trying to kill me or orchestrate my death, I have little choice. It's better to be forewarned and forearmed and enter on my own terms with those I trust to have my back, than being dragged in kicking and screaming like a child. End then end up dead. This is not my war, not your war, but they won't care."
Harry glared at Rodgrip. He didn't expect anyone to do anything to help him, but he'd be damned if he didn't try and persuade them that helping him with the issue, was in their best interests too. Rodgrip and Gringotts were useful. He needed that usefulness. He also liked her. She was funny. He would not beg her for help like a weak victim. But he was not above being Slytherin enough to get what he wanted, by making her think that's what she wanted too.
"You said you wanted me to live to 17 so that the vaults could properly be running again. If war comes back and vault owners die off, and whole family's worth of vaults get shut down. That makes it your problem." He said harshly with a sly cold smile, not pulling his punches.
"And besides. He gave Malfoy one to keep safe. What's to say there aren't more that he gave to other servants? They say nowhere is safer to hide things than Gringotts and Hogwarts. What if he hid them in Gringotts. It's against your laws. That makes it your problem."
Rodgrip looked at him sharply. Something like respect glinted in her eyes.
Then she grinned, "not so stupid for a wizard are you warrior? The Chief has heard the rumours and has been watching. Gringotts is prepared for war."
"Good," was all Harry said.
Turning to Bill, she ordered, "after this human is back at school. You will be transferred to Alexandria. You will research Soul Shards and report back. We need to get it out of the boy. We need to work out how many there are and how to get rid of them all. He brought trouble to Gringotts last time. He will bring it again. The bank has blacklisted Riddle for his attempted thievery and line theft."
Bill took out a notepad from his pocket and started scribbling.
"Research also how he'll bring himself back with his Soul Shards and what he could do with them." She continued, "You will continue Sunday lessons, however. But for now, lessons every day. He needs to be trained up. He needs to be ready to be a Lord and must learn occlumency to keep his mind free of this filth. That is a priority. I want him alive at 17 to run his vaults. And capable of it. Not insane from the dreams of a madman."
Bill nodded sharply, snapping off a quick hand gesture that Harry didn't recognise but thought might be like a muggle solute but, well, goblin.
"What effects are you getting from the Soul Shard already?" Rodgrip asked.
"I'm getting dreams, that's how I knew he's coming back," Harry said, going on to tell them in as much detail as he could remember about the dream. Which was a lot more than he could before.
"You'll research the possible plans he could have for his rebirth," Rodgrip said to Bill before continuing to Harry. "you're connecting to his mind then, but it is contained by your mother's protection. It won't stop the visions completely, I don't think. They will get more frequent the stronger he gets.
That is why you must occlude. The protection should keep him from feeling you, but you're still vulnerable to him detecting you if any strong emotions slip past your barriers. Occlumency is your priority now." Rodgrip said, looking sharply at Bill and Harry.
They nodded, "Harry's doing rather well," Bill said, "he could feel an attack coming before, but it was hindered by his bound magic. That should be fixed now as he can feel his magic, so he'll have an easier time feeling his own mind now, too. He can control what passive scans see now, though, by focusing intently on one thing."
"Good," she said, moving on, "now the wards. We analysed the muggle house. There were the failed remains of what could have been a blood ward if it was activated properly. It never activated and failed before it could get up to power. There were the remains of an intent ward tied to you, and a failed protection ward based off your blood specifically, that had long since faded." Rodgrip explained.
"So I never was safe there," Harry said
"No."
"I won't be going back then. Not now, not ever. And the other wards are now gone from me?"
"Yes, do you want to reset the owl ward?"
"Please."
Rodgrip pulled out another bit of paper from another drawer in her desk and drew some complicated runes and symbols on it before saying, "what exceptions and direction do you want?"
"What are my options," he asked.
"Do you want it redirecting your mail completely? We could work out a specific place, or have it all re-routed through Gringotts. Then it will be checked for curses and forwarded to you via the box. You can also set who can and can't directly owl you."
"Right then," Harry said thinking a moment, "everything redirected here first, except Gringotts, Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, Hermione, Luna, Neville, Hagrid and anything Hedwig collects herself. Everything else can go through here. I don't want anyone blocked from sending me mail though. It's caused me enough trouble. Maybe that is why Lupin never wrote back to me," he thought hopefully making a mental note to send him another owl.
Rodgrip scribbled for a moment then held out a knife. Harry pricked his finger and let her press the blood into the parchment. She then handed it to Harry and started chanting. The parchment lit up in flames making Harry jump, and his heart pound as the flames engulfed him. They merely tickled and were gone in a moment.
The goblin looked at Harry closely and made a few pinching motions in the air around him, as if adjusting something only she could see. Harry could feel magic shifting around him, crackling and meeting his own. He reached out to it tentatively. It crackled along his fingertips. Rodgrip then clapped her hands sharply, seven times. The magic settled into his skin like a protective blanket.
Harry blinked. It hadn't exactly vanished but seemed to blend in and become one with his own. His own magic would power the ward now.
"Thank you, Master Rodgrip."
The goblin waved a hand dismissively and said, "now you are yourself, we can discuss your accounts. But first, you must be accepted into your family's houses. It is normally done by the head of the family on a child's 7th birthday. You would normally prick your finger and press your blood to the family ring and speak ritual words."
The goblin tapped her desk briefly, ordered something in goblin tongue and then continued speaking to Harry, "that is not something we can do, as you are the only one left in most of your houses. But we do have the rings, so we can do a modified version of the ritual."
There was a knock on the door, and a younger-looking goblin came in holding a wooden box. He placed it on the table and left without a word. Rodgrip opened the box and placed four rings on the table. Two silver signet rings, a large gold one and a small gold one.
"We have the head's ring for the Gryffindor, Slytherin and Black Houses. They are automatically returned upon the death of the head unless passed directly to the current heir," Rogdip explained.
"But not the Potter ring...?" Harry asked curiously, dread growing in his gut.
"No, it's not here. It was accepted by your father upon his father's death. But for some reason, it did not return to us, upon his death. We have our theories about it being in Godric's Hollow. But we only have the heir ring at the moment."
She picked up the small gold ring, "this is the Potter Heir Ring."
"What do I need to do to accept my place in the family?" Harry asked curiously, dying to have a closer look at the rings.
"You take the family ring, prick your finger and say that you, your name, blood of, your family, take up and accept your position of the house." The goblin explained, handing Harry a knife.
"Potter first," she said, handing over the small gold signet ring. It had a crest on it with, when he peered at it closely, a griffin.
Biting down his questions, he pricked his finger and pressed the blood to the crest. The ring seemed to grow hot, and he thought that for a moment, the griffin actually looked more like a thestral. The eyes of the thestral glowed as the magic of the ring seemed to reach out to him; testing him. It then settled, as he said, "I, Hadrian James Evans-Potter, Blood of The Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter, do take up and accept my place in House Potter."
The magic seemed to swell in him as if waking from a deep slumber. It wrapped around him, testing and accepting him before it settled once more. And the thestral was just a griffin again.
"Black next," the goblin said accepting the Potter ring back and handing over the Black ring. The Black ring had ravens on its crest. It was a heavy silver ring and felt cold to the touch.
He pricked his finger as he said the words, "I, Hadrian James Evans-Potter, Blood of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, do take up and accept my place in House Black."
The magic of the ring, again reached out to him, cold, as it wrapped around him, testing; sharper. But the eyes of the ravens glowed briefly, and the ring's magic seemed to waken the cold magic within himself. It flared, and he watched sparks light up and vanish along his fingertips.
He swapped the ring for the Gold Gryffindor ring, trying not to feel bitter about being cast out of his own house. Would it accept him?
It did. The ring's magic flared testing him and awoke his own Gryffindor magic, warm and bright, flaring brightly in his chest. He was still a Gryffindor. He just wasn't one of them who had cast him out. They were no true Gryffindor's and he'd never be one of their kind of Gryffindor.
Something settled in him that hadn't felt quite right since he'd been un-housed, and he finally took up the Slytherin ring. Like the Black ring, it was heavy and silver. Like the Gryffindor ring, it's crest was the same as the Slytherin House crest he'd seen at school.
He pricked his finger and said the words. The ring's magic whispered around him, testing him like a snake tasting the air. His own magic flared again as he was accepted and for the first time, he felt like he belonged somewhere.
ENDNOTES:
Goblins celebrate yule and did so while harry was out of it. Harry was to sick to notice and therefore missed the alley festivities.
Likewise with Christmas. He's never been too keen on it. It was because everyone else did that he cared about it. Goblins do not celebrate Christmas.