Harry touched his face gently. He hated to think it but his face was rather delicate especially has changed a bit over the first few weeks of the hellish summer. Why was he swooning over his 'delicate' face like a girl you might ask? Because he was sure that his cheekbone was broken. How was he even supposed to fix a broken cheekbone? He sighed and took out the bruise paste from his bag. He had books piled under a slab of wood and his things on top of his trunk. It wasn't like the Dursleys came into his room anyway unless Uncle Vernon was dragging him out for a fight.
The fights were a nightmare. Young strappy boys were thrown into a ring for money. Their feet would slip on the floor which would be slick with sweat and blood and who knew what else. These boys didn't actually know how to fight. No, why would they want to watch two skilled individuals pair off against each other when they could have two desperate kids scratch and claw for survival? Harry snorted. He, himself had a wide array of wounds from his fights. Stab wounds, long deep scratches, bite marks, and bruises from his frequent appearances in the dank dark basement battleground of some sickos house with their two-point-five children and wife just above them. The most recent of his wounds was a long horizontal scar across his throat, it was deep and it was grotesque but Harry was oddly proud of it. His knuckles were broken and bruised like the rest of him but Harry was safe from the more nondesirable ways to pay the Dursleys back for their generosity. At least for tonight.
"No! It kinda looks cool! Like a pirate-"
Harry quickly thought of something else. Fights. In the smallest bedroom, Harry sat broodingly with his darkening eye, broken cheekbone, cracked ribs, and sunburned skin. His skin was red, cracking, and peeling in a way that was disgusting, revealing the darker skin underneath. The skin underneath looked healthier than his paper white complexion that he had before. It was bronze and brown much like the pictures of his father showed. At least on his hands, it was, Harry hadn't seen his face since he had last taken a shower. Which was a while ago. It was only because of his studying and the successful wandless minor charms that he didn't smell or worst got an infection. It was only because of Theo and his potions that Harry hadn't gotten seriously sick
He wore threadbare hand-me-downs from Dudley over his gaunt frame which only helped his escaped convict look that he had going on. He had been going barefoot because the soles of his decade-old thrifted tennis shoes had fallen off leaving his feet absolutely destroyed with small cuts and bruises from where Dudley purposely stomped on them. Broken glass and debris had to be brushed off.
He was surprised when a raptor swept in through his window and glared down at him carrying an official letter in its beak. Harry stood up and took the letter warily and to his surprise he recognized the seal. It was from Gringotts.
"Huh," Harry grunted intelligently. He ripped the letter open and unfolded the soft feeling parchment inside.
All it said was;
This is an immediate summons of one; Harry James Potter.
Harry's vision spun. His gut pulled. And he was gone.
Harry fell out onto the floor put quickly hopped to his feet. Where was he? He was in a swanky office it looked like with a big fireplace illuminating the sharp line of various swords and axes that lined the walls. As Harry admired the intimidating sight of what might be a human head on the wall, a door clicked open. A goblin walked in, tall (For a goblin) and well dressed. Harry watched the goblin carefully but he ignored the boy and walked around to his desk instead. He sat down in a throne-like chair and took several documents from his all silently. Harry stared.
After a while, the goblin finally looked up.
"Ah!" The goblin said as if surprised," There you are Mr. Potter! How kind of you to visit after the six years we attempted to contact you," Oh, sarcasm. The goblin was using sarcasm.
"Why did you bring me here?" Harry growled. He bared his teeth with a snarl. He knew that his teeth were a bit pointed which came from being unable to go to the dentist. Aunt Petunia use to just hold him down and saw at him with some tool which caused his teeth to be sharp and uneven. Magic filled the length but they were still sharp and with the wandless charms, he had learned, white and shiny too. An intimidation tactic in the ring and a deterrent elsewhere.
"If you answered your goddamn mail, we wouldn't have had to resort to such drastic means!" The goblin retorted eyeing his teeth with interest.
"I have never you're mail from Gringotts so I don't know what received talking about!" Harry said cooly. The goblin blinked at him.
"Oh dear," He said rubbing his temples," Oh dear, oh dear. Are you sure, Mr. Potter, that you have never received mail from Hogwarts? At any time during your life?" He asked. Harry shook his head. The goblin stared at him with small beady eyes before nodding decisively.
"Alright then. Before we say anything else, you need to complete this inheritance test," Said the Goblin sliding a blank page of parchment across his desk. Harry hesitantly walked forward and looked it over.
"What am I suppose to do?" Harry asked.
"Just touch it. Don't stop until I tell you to," The goblin examined his face lingering on his broken cheekbone and gaunt stature. Harry nodded and steeled himself. He pressed his pointer finger to the center of the blank yellow page. Harry almost jumped when he felt a prickly feeling pierced his finger but stilled himself as words flooded the page.
Together they read;
Harry James Potter- Black
Bearer: Lily Marie Potter nee Evans
Sire: James Charlus Potter( blood adopted)
"The fuck!"
"Shhh," The goblin shushed him.
Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter
Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Le Fay
Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Peverell
Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Slytherin
Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Gryffindor
Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Pendragon
The spitting ball of sunlight and hellfire inside of him flares out through his fingers scorching the page and a fair bit of the desk too. The goblin snatches away the test and continues to read. All the while Harry stands still dark curls falling into his eyes.
"I'm adopted?" He says to the room.
"It appears so," The goblin murmurs.
"Well, shit,"
"Have a bit of decorum, Mr. Potter," The goblin scolds him," And take a seat. I wasn't exactly expecting your results but it doesn't change much. I have authority over most of the accounts listed," Harry falls down into a comfortable chair as the goblin bustles around behind his desk and starts pulling out several small boxes.
"These are the heirship rings for the houses of Gryffindor, Pendragon, Pervell, and Potter. I will have to retrieve the others in a moment," The goblin pushes the boxes toward an unmoving Harry with a wrinkles-clawed hand.
"What- what are these?" Harry askes.
"Heir rings. Congratulations Mr. Potter, you are very titled," The goblin tells him curtly," Put them on please,"
"Will they do anything to me?" Harry asks, worried by the wide vicious grin on the goblin's face.
"You might feel the family magics settle but that's all," The goblin dismisses rushing out of the room. Harry hesitates before pulling a wooden box marked with fine engravings of antlers along the lid towards him. He opens it to find a simple ring; two miniature racks of antlers encircled around each other to form the ring and a small red gem that looks as if it was glowing with hidden fire. Harry is comforted by the simplicity of the ring and puts it on.
The Potter ring( He assumes) fills Harry with a warm homey feeling and tastes of guilty slices of pie and chamomile tea. Next was the Gryffindor ring which was similar to the Potter ring, a smooth gold band with a small sun design in its center. It had small rubies embedded on the edges. This ring felt like mischief and tasted like butterbeer. Harry had to physically stop himself from giggling. The Peverell ring cleared that right up though. The bone-white ring and strange triangle design filled him with a heavy solemn feeling similar to the next ring. The pendragon ring was thicker than the others a dragon eye peered up at him with its glittering garnet eye. It was a ring to grow into.
The goblin marched into the office with three more boxes for him to put on. The buzzing in his rings spread to his entire body but in a comforting way. He wasn't in so much pain anymore. The thought made him more forgiving of the clearly sadistic goblin that had kidnapped him.
"What's your name?" Harry asked out of curiosity.
"Sharptooth," The goblin answered after a small pause. He frowned at one of the ring boxes o his desk.
"Will I need to put those on too?" Harry asked. Sharptooth nodded still downing.
"One of the rings had to be purified because of a rather disgusting presence stuck inside it but they are now all safe to put on. Harry nodded and started putting on rings again, this time with Sharpclaw looking on.
The Black ring was a thick crude band of onyx with sharp glimmering shards of black pearl. It was cold and smooth and settled like blood onto his tongue. The Slytherin ring was a small silver sleeping snake wrapped around a jade stone. It hissed contently around his pinky. Next was the Le Fay ring which was a crystal white band that had small lapis lazuli feathers wrapped around it. It filled him with a breathlessness that shocked him. He had to close his eyes against the intense feeling of freedom he got from the ring.
"All done," Harry chimed.
"Good. Now, I need you to take this," Sharptooth handed him a box," It's a goblin mailbox. Obviously, your mail isn't safe and so we will communicate via this method. You can also send owlorders through the box," Sharpclaw explained.
"Owlorder?"
"Indeed," Sharptooth hummed," Perhaps to buy some new clothes," He suggested snarkily. Harry almost snorted in amusement.
"Maybe,"
"Hmmm," Sharptooth rummaged through his desk and pulled out several keys," I canceled all of your previous keys since you obviously didn't know of their existence if you haven't been getting mail," Sharptooth looked not a little bit annoyed about that fact. The goblin conjured a black chain to hang all of the delicate keys from and passed it to Harry. Harry fiddled with the clasped and snapped it into place. The keys were warm against his chest.
"Thank you," Harry said genuinely. Sharptooth stopped and stared at him oddly.
"It's my duty," He said slowly. Harry just shrugged and smiled. Sharptooth grunted and took out a plain silver bangle.
"This is a portkey, Mr. Potter," He explained," It will take you back home," Harrys mood soured but he nodded and stood recognizing the dismissal," It will also bring you here if you say the phrase Gringotts Grotto," Sharptooth told him.
"Thank you again, Sharptooth," The goblin nodded sharply and Harry clipped the bangle onto his wrist.
"Gringotts Grotto!"
At the very beginning of the summer, there were no letters and there was no Hedwig so all Harry had to do was read his textbooks which all fell into his plan to be better that he had made at the end of Second Year. He had improved but not by much with the whole crazy godfather thing and soul-sucking demons roaming the campus. He read Occumentcy books and practiced a new more distant attitude. The thought of being able to shut out his feelings and have clearer more organized thoughts was appealing to Harry but the calm meditation method just wasn't working for Harry. He didn't want to depend on a sword coming out from a hat the next time he was put to the test. He also wanted to be himself though he didn't know who that was. Especially with the new changes happening to his looks and magic.
Like what the fuck was up with his hair.
His hair began to lighten to a dark brown, not unusual in children especially those with magic. When he returned to the Dursleys and was quickly put to work it had brightened again to a more auburn chocolaty color and Harry just thought it was from all the sun he was getting but it wasn't until he had caught his reflection in the mirror while cleaning the bathroom while the Dursleys was sleeping that he noticed it. There he stood surrounded by garish white tiles and a hideous floral curtain, his skin was a bronzed caramel color instead of bright red with sunburns. His eyes were a vibrant almost pale green like sea glass with small shards of amber surrounding the dark pupil like light dancing over leaves. His face was made of sharp and elegant lines and hollowed cheeks. But what shocked him, what didn't belong was the head full of bright red curls that weren't long enough to fall over his forehead. They were dark like a wine stain in the low light but when held up closer, his hair was the color of poppies.
The color seemed freakish. It wasn't that he hadn't seen redheads before. There was Lucy Collins with her ginger hair and her infinite supply of butterfly barrettes. There was 'Missy' with her dyed crimson waves that were broken by streaks of black but his hair was something different. Some weird. Something freakish. Harry had to mentally remind himself that he was a wizard he wasn't a freak. This... this hair could be something magical. His mother had red hair, Harry thought to himself, and his harsh pull turned infinitely gentle. His mother's hair wasn't quite like this though. Her hair was like rust, straight as a pin except for the bottom where it waved a bit. In the sunlit picture he had of her it shone an orangy-red like flames beautiful over her shoulders. That wasn't this.
However, even in his panic, he couldn't bring himself to hate the changes. He had something of his mother with him now, a physical manifestation of the fire that had been snuffed out within her. His skin was more like his adopted father's sunkissed complexion. That slightly upturned nose was hers, those long fanning eyelashes could be his. Where did he get that strong brow? Where did the cupid's bow of lips come from? His grandparents? Their grandparents? It all made him want to cry. He didn't know how long he stood there admiring the cut of his cheekbones and the appealing slant of his eyes but he did know that he didn't have time to finish his chores and got a vicious beating for it.
He had taken a beanie when he was cleaning out Dudley's broken toy room that was scruffy and worn which had a slouchiness that came in handy when his curls grew out. During the night's Harry took time to wash the auburn locks carefully with conditioner and hid a brush that had a broken handle to keep it silky and unknotted. The pride that came from being his mother's son warmed him during the colder days when the rain would seep into the cracks of his window where he washed his wounds with the salty rain and watched his blood spill into the floorboards.