A/N: Hey everyone and welcome to a special short written for Weather Report and Seventh Son!
Fair warning, this is a Hansy fic that uses a type of Marriage Contract (nothing regarding loss of magic or life) and in addition, this 'short' will have 3 or 4 parts while taking place over the Summer, thus this first part is mostly establishing what's happened.
For those of you interested in my other works, I currently have three stories in progress with the pairings of those being Harry/FemVoldemort, Harry/Delphini and Harry/OFC
As usual, a big thanks to my Beta's and Discord Staff - Alec, Alpple, Babo, CalamityXx, Champ, DorianGray, NerdDragonVoid, O'Neill, Seventh Son, SinisterFox, Theo and Xevier!
Feel free to join my Discord for updates, a chance to request your own short story and information; link on my profile. Without any more rambling from me, I hope you enjoy the story!
(Sorry if you don't like this!)
For those in the Discord, feel free to me in the proper channels to tell me what your thoughts on the story were!
June 30, 1996
Sunday
"Hedwig?" Harry asked with a yawn and glance in the direction of his companion's cage.
A few hoots were his response, the pitch distinctly different from Hedwig's and not at all coming from the direction of where she'd be.
Harry rubbed the sleep from his eyes with one hand while the other darted in the direction of his glasses; after putting them on, he looked where the sound had come from and saw a great big owl holding a parcel in its claws rather than letters. For the life of him, he couldn't recall who this belonged to, nor had he ever seen an owl quite so large or intimidating.
Impatient, the creature hooted at him a few more times while raising one foot — Harry had the distinct impression the owl wasn't all too happy in his delayed response.
Wary from the presence of the strange owl, Harry reached one hand towards the parcel box tied to its feet while the other was raised defensively in front of his face; glasses wouldn't stop the thing from goring his face, after all. His progress towards reaching the package was unimpeded as the owl's only response to his slower than usual pace was an almost condescending tilt of its head, he could practically hear a Malfoy-like drawl to match the look.
Once he grabbed it and retreated to the edge of his bed, the creature hooted more softly this time. Harry figured it was happy he'd finally relieved it and it could head home now, but it didn't. Rather than sleeping where it was perched or flying away, the large owl threw itself across his room until it was perched near the foot of his bed on one of the posts.
Not a single glance or show of hesitance was given to Harry, the large creature falling asleep within seconds of its having done so.
Shrugging and finally taking the time to weigh the box in his hand, Harry was beginning to understand just why the animal had been so tuckered out; the weight of the box must've been nearly two or three pounds, and for an animal that likely only weighed eight or nine, the journey must've been exhausting. Harry glanced back at the sleeping creature and promised himself he'd give it food and drink once it came to, so long as that was while he was awake… maybe leaving something out for it would be better.
Decision made, Harry finally located and read the sender of the parcel — Gringotts. He hadn't a clue why they'd mail him something, nor why it'd be delivered in a weighted box rather than a simple letter as almost everything he'd seen in the Great Hall.
Who was he to complain or tell the Goblins better though? More likely if he tried, they'd frown or snarl for his perceived slight; at least that's what he thought they'd do after seeing what little of them he had and hearing all the stories told in Hogwarts… he did take the latter with a grain of salt considering it was mostly Ron who'd told those stories.
Harry ripped open the package and saw two things within; a letter was one of them, the other was a large, ornate key. Said key was a blackened metal with a bit of rock that looked like obsidian — he'd seen a stone his aunt had that looked similar — tucked towards the centre rear of it, there were some weird symbols he didn't recognize, along with a bit of Latin; a language he didn't know nearly enough to translate.
Shrugging, Harry tossed the key aside until it lay on his pillow and pulled out the letter. If anything was going to explain what that key was for, it would obviously be the companion piece it came with. Opening the letter by ripping the top completely off, Harry dove straight in.
Heir Harry Potter,
An immediate visit is required by your person to affirm and claim your new vaults as well as the manager thereof. Included with this parchment is the key to the series of said vaults sent under the order of the last holder upon activation of a series of events.
Regardless of whether you accept or decline, a visit for confirmation is required within the next two weeks.
Aglok
Manager of Transference
Manager of Transference? New vaults? Activation of a series of events?
Harry's mind was spinning as he set down the letter, he had no clue what any of it meant other than their seeking of an immediate visit by him. At best guess, Harry assumed it was something Dumbledore had done for him, worst, it was something one of Malfoy's gits had done somehow that was sure to bite him.
Not for the first time, he cursed his lack of knowledge on the magical word as well as his having to live with his 'family' rather than the Weasleys or somebody else who'd be able to help him fully integrate into magical society.
How could he go to Gringotts anyhow? Could the Knight Bus take him or would he need to leave his home to seek out Dumbledore?
A flurry of thoughts went through his mind before he finally decided on his first solution being the best — he was old enough to make this decision wisely and if it was as important as it sounded, Harry doubted Dumbledore or anybody else would be all that mad at him for going via the Knight Bus.
Harry's mind made up, he decided he'd take today to relax and tomorrow, Monday, would be the day he'd go to Gringotts to answer their call.
July 1, 1996
Monday
Merlin!
That's the last time Harry decided to use the Knight Bus!
He hadn't thought it possible for the ride to be even bumpier and vomit-inducing than before, but somehow, it exceeded all previously set expectations of horror — he'd take his broom or the Floo any day of the week going forward.
Shaking himself off and walking the remaining distance until he stood out front of the entrance to Gringotts, Harry took in a calming breath while gripping the key tightly in his right hand while the left held the letter. Exhaling, Harry took the few steps remaining and entered the bank, walking straight through the relatively empty building until he found a teller.
One quick exchange and Harry was led — after a search using something he wasn't all that familiar with — to a back room with a plaque on the door that read 'Aglok' with a Manager plate beside it.
"Enter, Harry Potter," A scratchy voice called, the pitch and tone not at all like the former Goblin he'd spoken with… Griphook, if he remembered the name correctly.
Harry did as instructed, opening the door cautiously and closing it with care. When he turned around, he was greeted with an ageing, grey and wispy-haired Goblin wearing a monocle sitting behind an extremely beautiful wooden desk with all sorts of golden fixings to express his status or wealth… probably both.
"Sit, Harry Potter," Aglok addressed him, motioning with a short gesture from one of his clawed hands towards a human-sized seat.
He did just that, dipping his head respectfully once he was fully in the seat and had his arms on either of the rests; he couldn't help squeezing the ends to let out the nerves he was feeling, better than any other way he thought.
"Do you know the reason for you being called here, Harry Potter? Gringotts isn't usually so informal or urgent in their requests from… Wizards," Aglok questioned him, tapping slowly on his desk with the previously motioning clawed hands — his actions allowed Harry to get a look at just how sharp those particular features were.
Swallowing nothing at how obviously out of his element he was, Harry grabbed the courage he'd always had more than enough of and shook his head negatively.
"No, Manager Aglok," He added the title and name of the Goblin after barely a second after his having said no, just in case the action endeared himself or otherwise earned a morsel of respect.
Based on the snarl-like smile he was given, it had the desired effect… or so Harry hoped.
"Unfortunate, that the Ministry of Magic so routinely fails in its legal proceedings," Aglok's smile stayed on his face as he spoke, the slightest of chuckles leaving the Goblin as it spoke badly of Wizarding Britain's government, "I assume you know of Sirius Black, previous Lord of the House Black?"
With emotions on the subject of his Godfather still being semi-volatile, Harry only nodded in response.
"I also assume, based on your lack of information regarding your visit, that you aren't aware of his last will and testimony ratified months ago?" Aglok leaned forward in his seat, his singular monocled eye especially focused on Harry.
"No, Manager Aglok," Harry paused, confused slightly and wanting to clarify lest anything bad comes of it, "I mean I've not heard it at all, nobody from the Ministry told me anything about Si-his will."
Aglok watched him for nearly half a minute in silence, contemplation clear on his face before he finally relented, leaning back and nodding in his seat.
"I cannot tell you the contents for various legal reasons, suffice to say the main happenings of that individuals will were the reason you've been summoned — all of House Black's assets have been left to you by the previous Lord, Sirius Black; the key in your hands is more symbolic than functioning," Aglok laughed at Harry's weird expression, "Gringotts has ascended far past such meaningless, unsure protections that keys can provide, especially for her top clientele, Heir Potter."
Harry nodded his head a few times to shake the funk that'd taken over after the rather hefty bomb of information that'd been dropped.
"You said all of House Black's assets?"
Aglok nodded, "Down to the very last Galleon."
Harry felt a bit uneasy with the accentuation of that word, but he pressed onwards, asking "Do you have a parchment that'll tell me just what that includes? I do-"
"Your account manager will do that for you, Harry Potter," Aglok tapped on the title plaque his desk had, "I am Manager of Transference, nothing more, nothing less."
Well, Harry supposed he knew what that title meant now — how much business or work could this Goblin have considering the job's duties?
"Could I be brought to… Griphook?" Harry hoped that was the right name and at the same time, not a stupid question.
Aglok grunted, "His schedule is as unknown to me as mine is to him. Have the one who brought you here. Grushnak will escort you to Griphook's office and seek an audience."
Harry nodded a few times to himself and stood up from the seat, "Thank you, Manager Aglok,"
Aglok grunted again and waved his hand; Harry made his exit a few seconds later and did just as the old Goblin had bid him.
As luck would have it, or if Griphook had planned it, he was free for a meeting with Harry a minute after he'd arrived.
"Harry Potter," Griphook dipped his head from his seat — his office being not nearly as nice as Aglok's — and motioned towards a comfortable-enough looking chair.
"Griphook," Harry returned respectfully, head dip and all, before taking the offered seat.
Griphook didn't waste any time in getting to the point after they'd exchanged pleasantries, "You've come to Gringotts for a full accounting on your new vaults, property and other business dealings that have been transferred to you from House Black, that's correct isn't it?"
Harry nodded, "Yes, I was to-"
Griphook didn't wait for Harry to say anything further, interrupting him with a loud dropping of a tome on his desk and speaking not a second later.
"This contains the balance of every vault, both separate and overall should you care, along with every item regardless of its worth," Griphook then slid a much smaller book over beside that one, "In this one, you'll find the location for the various Black family homes along with the state of disrepair they're under and various other… business dealings — some of this information may be outdated, contrary to popular wizarding belief we don't know everything about your homes or private lives by way of wards or other means."
"Is there anything else?" Harry questioned, noticing the impatience of his account manager.
"Does that not prove sufficient?" Griphook returned sharply, peering down at Harry from his raised seat.
An explanation or anything more in-depth would've been better, git.
Harry inhaled a small breath, the action clearing his mind from the thought he'd just had and giving him a second to respond.
"It's great, thank you Griphook."
"Good afternoon, Harry Potter," Griphook responded as he began looking back down at the various papers strewn about his desk, effectively dismissing Harry in a rather impolite way.
He didn't mind all that much, Harry had had classes with Snape for years by now; that bat of a man was worse than any Goblin had ever been.
Harry didn't go straight back to the Dursleys following his exit from Gringotts, why would he even think of such a thing when he had an alternative of experiencing the freedom to roam about in Diagon Alley during a time he'd usually be stuffed up in the small room?
That didn't mean he was acting too reckless though, considering the current political climate and violence as a result of Voldemort ramping up for another feud — Harry remembered Sirius saying as much.
So, as a result of him choosing to enjoy Diagon Alley and not be overly reckless, he went to the Leaky Cauldron, renting out a private area towards the back of it; close enough to hear the general public's energetic behaviour but far enough to have privacy with the books he was about to dive into.
As any boy in his position would probably do, especially considering the circumstances of his raising or lack thereof, he opened the book containing his newfound wealth.
Merlin, he'd been sent reeling when he saw just how wealthy Sirius had left him — there's no way he'd ever spend so many Galleons even during five lifetimes! That's before factoring in the main wealth from his parents' vaults; if they had any… his trust vault had to be coming from somewhere though right? Last he checked it was something that would fill back up!
Moving on from his wealth, he skimmed through the portion that contained information regarding the items that lay within the various House Black vaults; he was looking for anything that stuck out from conversations with Hermione, legends he'd heard or the snippets of information still around in his mind from History class — Magical History that is, not the Muggle stuff.
Sadly, and as Harry would've guessed, the items were given descriptions based on physical appearances alone. Obviously, the Goblins couldn't tell what they did without risking personal harm, but Harry had dared hope there'd be more information than 'Brown carpet, dated to the 1600s, minor tear in the bottom-right corner'.
Merlin's sake, what sort of use was information like that in the grand scheme of things? As if the Galleon estimation they put to the left of it would help more than any special effects the object in question may have.
Shaking his head and closing the larger of the two books, Harry moved on to the second, the one that contained property and other 'business dealings' as Griphook had said. Harry wasn't sure what the latter half of his statement was supposed to mean, he wasn't all that interested in the property either… what teen his age would be? He didn't have a clue on how to fix them up, check if he was getting scammed and so on; they didn't teach that at Hogwarts!
That being his attitude going into the book, Harry only glanced at the varying pages half-heartedly, only the most minimal of information sticking in his mind as he did so; from Black Manor tucked away in a forest with muggle-repelling wards to a beach home on Normandy with the same protections but in such disrepair, it was deemed nearly useless in attempting a repair job — House Black didn't lack in properties, or rather property, considering that out of their dozen or so homes, most were destroyed.
Harry assumed a majority of the book would be information regarding the properties, so when he stopped midway through at the last property owned by House Black, he was more than a little concerned that there was still half a book to be read.
What did he know about legal deals, contracts or investments? He'd have to seek out the Weasleys for help, or Dumbledore!
A frown present on his face, Harry huffed and mulled over leaving it unread as a whole — he knew he shouldn't, though that didn't stop him from wanting to do so any less. Thus, it was with a great deal of annoyance and discomfort that Harry slowly began going page by page through the book for anything that stood out as important; quite literally 'important' too, he'd seen a few films on television to know (or think) that important documents said as much on the top of them.
Well, television was a lie, Harry concluded upon reaching the end of the book; that or there was absolutely nothing important within the whole book other than the rundown buildings… Harry doubted that very much, why include them otherwise?
That train of thought brought him from the back room he'd been slunk away in for hours and into the side door, up a set of stairs until he was standing out front of the room to which he'd been given the key. His belongings on his back, Harry used the aforementioned item and cautiously peeked in, seeing after a few seconds of looking there was nobody inside, he entered, shutting the door quietly behind him.
He took the next ten minutes or close enough to settle in, washing his hands and laying on the bed for the remainder of the time; the day had been very exhausting, finding out that he had so many new things all because of Sirius. Harry couldn't believe he was in anything but a dream, at least not until he realised all the new responsibilities he had, as seen in the two books he was given and the way the Goblins interacted with him.
Those responsibilities, newfound as they were, acted as the means of getting Harry back to the book containing business dealings. It'd only dawned on him during his reflection by means of laying face first on a pillow that he'd realised those responsibilities likely included things he'd have to do for whatever businesses the Blacks had.
Harry snorted, thinking that the Blacks had to have some source of income, otherwise they'd have gone broke long in the past as some of the other families Malfoy liked to make fun of had; like the Weasleys — Harry imagined there was a time they were well off, such a thing had been alluded to before.
Justified to himself and having nothing else to do considering where he was, Harry dove into the 'business' portion of the book, reading dealing after dealing while understanding only portions of the various old-school phrases or wordings. Some of the dealings were loans with set repayment cycles and interest, others were percentages of shares in an assortment of companies in Magical Britain and varying countries across Europe, there was even one marria- Harry's eyes went wide and they darted towards the top of the parchment.
From top to bottom, he began to read the text;
'Marriage agreement between the Houses of Black and Parkinson
This day, Saturday the Seventh of the Ninth month, in the year 1796, the Lords of Houses Black and Parkinson do so enter into an agreement of marriage to be resolved within the next two centuries time. Failure to abide by one party — henceforth referred to as the wrongdoer — will result in the innocent — henceforth referred to as the victim — being granted multiple boons from said wrongdoer.
Said boons will be as follows, coming directly from the wrongdoer or family thereof; twenty-per cent of total wealth at the time of enactment, full relinquishing of the bride price as agreed upon further herein along with another property of the victim's choosing, the immediate expulsion of the wrongdoer(s) from the family and finally, the victim will marry the next most eligible member of the family, regardless of prior contracts or agreements.
Thus agreed upon by both Houses, and with the Wizengamot acting as binders, the Lords Black and Parkinson do so agree to the terms listed above.'
Harry stopped his reading when a new portion began and stared blankly ahead; he wasn't completely sure, scratch that, he wasn't at all sure, but he thought very hesitantly that he'd just read his own betrothal status. Normally, most boys probably would've been panicking at the mere thought of marriage with some girl they didn't know, especially at such a young age — truth be told, Harry was more shocked and confused than terrified.
Those feelings didn't last all that long either, considering Harry had gotten out of far worse than some sort of marriage contract drafted up nearly two centuries ago by old men. It wasn't like he'd be solving this alone either, he had Dumbledore, Hermione and a host of other friends that'd help him! Merlin's sake, he doubted whatever Parkinson witch it was — if one existed other than Pansy considering she'd been engaged to Draco — would want to marry him anyhow, they were Voldemort's ilk!
Harry closed the book and put it on the nightstand beside the bed. No matter what the parchment said, there was always the chance he'd misunderstood or simply didn't have all the facts; the goblins had said themselves that much of the contents could be potentially outdated! It wasn't like they'd had a big 'complete' stamp on them.
Besides, worrying right now would do nothing for him, it was early evening and he was staying in the Leaky Cauldron until dinner, that way he'd have a good meal of his choice rather than whatever he could scrounge up back at the Dursleys.
Probably literal scraps and bread if he was fortunate.
Harry covered his mouth and burped as he rolled over on his side; he'd returned 'home' using the Knight Bus for lack of any other means of transportation, and doing so right after a large meal had been one of the stupidest decisions he'd yet made — depending on the contents of the Black Books, going to Gringotts could potentially top that list sometime soon too!
Before he could chuckle self-deprecatingly, a new owl tapped on the glass of his window; it wasn't the same kind as the larger one from earlier either, it was small, spotted and with dark eyes.
It looked like a regular mail owl too considering the small letter carefully held by it.
What now? Harry thought to himself as he swung his feet over the bed and pulled open the window, allowing the Owl to fly in. Inside his room, it perched at the foot of his bed and daintily extended its foot… it was potentially the most flue- second most fluent owl he'd ever seen; Hedwig would always be first.
Harry carefully relieved the bird of its letter and withdrew to the furthest edge of his bed to open it free of any biting should the new owl be hostile. He'd briefly paused to glance at the wax seal, but after concluding he'd never seen it before, he ripped open the seal to get the letter stuffed within.
After he'd extracted it and ensured he'd not damaged it, Harry's eyes went immediately to the bottom to see who'd sent it.
"Who's Andromeda Tonks?" Harry asked aloud, thoroughly stumped.