Hey guys...I fucked up.

Alright, maybe I should be a bit lighter on myself here, but the fact remains that it took me almost three whole months to finally get around to updating To Date a Metamorph. For that, I'm really sorry. All I can say is that I lost my muse for a bit. Maybe I can blame this on the flamers and guest-hate reviews that I got fairly frequently that first month, but the rest is probably just laziness. However, I'm finally back, thanks to the support from some amazing followers that kept me going—now let's just see how long I'll be back for!

Now, before we get to the new chapter, I do have some housekeeping to get out of the way.

First, y'all who've been badgering me to change all of the Nyms and Nymphadoras in this story to Tonks' finally won. Earlier today I went through my master document and painstakingly replaced all of the Nyms and Nymphadoras that were unnecessary with just Tonks'. Eventually, that may change back to Nyms and Nymphadoras, once Harry and Tonks are dating, but for now she's just Tonks.

Second thing is that I may be picking up another story soon. I recently came across an interesting challenge while looking for more fanfictions to read. For those interested, it is the Loyal Pet Challenge by timbarney110. Essentially, when Harry escapes the Dursleys the summer before Third Year, he ends up picking up a poor cat that he decides to take along with him to the Leaky Cauldron and ends up making another familiar. Coincidentally, there's another Azkaban prisoner on the run right now, besides Sirius Black—his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange.

It's a fun idea, and I'm really looking forward to writing it, so keep your eyes open for any further announcements. And with that, I think it's time we get to the new chapter, at last.

Chapter 7: Taking Care of Business

Mafalda Hopkirk sighed as the orb she was holding flashed once before suddenly dimming into a dull grey. She sniffed, shook her head, and then slipped her wand back into her robe, the orb into another pocket, and then turned back to Harry, Tonks, and Madam Bones.

"Alright, it's been done—Harry Potter's trace has been deleted," Mafalda stated, an almost tired and dejected tone in her voice. She glanced over at Harry and took on a bit of a more stern expression, folding her arms. "However, don't think this gives you the right to go wild with your magic, Mister Potter, you're still expected to follow the rules of the Statute of Secrecy. This is a show of faith and trust, and if you break it…"

She left the rest of the threat hanging in the air, her eyes narrowed on the young man. Harry was left to fill in the blanks himself, and being a fairly creative and intelligent individual, he could do so fairly easily. Despite her shorter stature, Harry couldn't help but take a small step back from the director and giving her a quick, earnest nod. The last thing he wanted was to provoke someone who could so quickly and easily get him expelled or imprisoned.

Madam Bones cleared her throat. "Thank you, Mafalda, I believe Mister Potter understands the situation he's in just fine."

Mafalda turned back to Madam Bones and nodded. "Yes, I suppose so," she replied, turning back to Harry and giving him a firm nod and a soft smile. "Please understand, Mister Potter, I'm sorry for your situation, and I hope we can work this out, but I also want to do my job well."

Harry quickly nodded back to her, giving the witch a nervous smile in return. "No, no, I get it. You do what you have to do."

"Too true, no matter how it pains me sometimes," Mafalda nodded back to him, before turning and straightening her robes. "Well, if that's all that you need from me, Madam Bones, I believe it would be best if I return to my department—no doubt, there is much to be done after this, we still need to find how Mister Potter's Trace was broken, and perhaps if there were any other cases of this…"

The head of the Improper Use of Magic Department continued mumbling her thoughts to herself as she wandered out of the Director's office, removing the orb from her robes once more and waving her wand over it as she went. Harry, Tonks, and Madam Bones watched her go, before turning back to each other. Madam Bones sighed and moved back behind her desk, sitting down and giving Harry a tired frown.

"I do apologize for that, Mister Potter," the Director sighed, "Trust me, we will figure this out, and keep it from needlessly escalating. Now then, let's discuss other matters…"

At this, the Director sat up tall in her seat and stared imperially back at them, her eyes narrowed. "—for starters, how and why are you in contact with, and I feel I must stress this once more, convicted and escaped criminal Sirius Black, and why are you both so certain that he is not in fact a convicted criminal?"

For a moment, no one spoke, Harry and Tonks sharing a nervous glance. After all, this wasn't something that could be spoken about lightly—there was a reason why Sirius wasn't allowed out of Grimmauld Place, and forced to remain in his animagus form whenever he was allowed out in public, such as during the Triwizard Tournament's final round last year. Finally, after a moment of silent conversation between the two of them, Harry sighed and turned back to Madam Bones.

"Madam Bones, can we trust you to keep what we're about to tell you a secret?"

The head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement raised an eyebrow and leaned over her desk, resting her chin on her interlaced fingers. "That's a dangerous thing to ask of someone like myself, Mister Potter, especially considering the subject of the secret."

"It is…" Harry admitted, "…but I can't tell you anything unless we know we can trust you with this."

Madam Bones glanced between the two of them for a moment, her eyes still narrowed. Interestingly, though Harry had cowered a bit under Mafalda Hopkirk's chiding remarks, the young man before her now showed no signs of wavering, and his bright emerald eyes locked on her own piercing gaze. Beside him, Nymphadora Tonks stood up a bit straighter as well, as though offering whatever support she could. The show of comradery would've brought a smile to the Director's face had the subject not been so dire.

As it was, all she did was lighten her piercing stare.

After a long moment of silence, Madam Bones finally nodded and lean back, giving the both of them a firm nod. "Very well then, if that is what it takes. Mister Potter, you have my vow that I will keep this discussion between the three of us a secret. Not a magical oath, of course—" she quickly added with a sharp nod, "—but as Auror Tonks can attest, my word is good, and I stand by it, unlike some here in the Ministry."

"That's true," Tonks nodded, giving him a small pat on the shoulder. "If Madam Bones gives you her word, you can trust her to keep it."

Harry frowned but slowly nodded, smiling thankfully at the pat on his shoulder. It helped to steady him, and he took a deep breath. "Alright then," he replied with a nod. "That's good enough for me, I guess." He took another moment to take a deep breath to settle his nerves, before looking back up at the Director still staring firmly back at him.

And so he began.

As Harry finally came to the end of his explanation close to an hour later, Director Amelia Bones sat still as a statue in her chair, her mind reeling. In the course of the past hour, many of the truths that she had held firmly to be unquestionable had been proven to be anything but that. And with the penseive sitting between them having shown true memories of what he said, there was no denying it.

By Merlin, she needed a drink.

"Well, Boss, now you know—" Tonks began, but she was cut off as Madam Bones leaned back from her desk, opened the draw of her desk, and pulled out a large bottle of firewhiskey. The witch quietly pulled out a glass, magicked up a large ice cube to sit in it, and then poured herself a hearty drink. Then, taking a long sip from the glass and tilting her head back to release a gasp of flame, she turned back to the two standing before her.

Tonks blinked. "Uh, Boss…aren't you the one that's always telling me we're not allowed to drink on the job?"

"Well, I think I'm allowed to bend my own rules when the situation suits it, Auror Tonks," Madam Bones sharply replied, leveling the pink-haired auror with a tired glare before sighing and returning the glass to her lips. "And after all that the two of you have told me today, and after everything I've seen, I think this situation more than suits it."

Tonks sighed, but in all reality she agreed with Madam Bones' thoughts. If it weren't for the fact that she'd been clued into most of what Harry had revealed over the past hour already, she would've likely been in the same state as the Department Head sitting across from them. As it were, she was simply astounded by how much she still didn't know, as well as more than a little turned on by what Harry had managed to do in his memories. I mean, slaying a Basilisk at twelve? Fighting off one hundred Dementors at once? And then there was all the madness that came about with the Triwizard Tournament last year.

If she hadn't been interested in Harry before, she certainly was now.

Madam Bones chose to focus on something very different. After taking another deep drink of the firewhiskey in her hand, the director sighed and looked back up at Tonks and Harry, sitting a bit taller in her chair. "Alright, let me see if I understand this…"

Madam Bones held up a hand, slowly ticking off the facts as she listed them. "Sirius Black wasn't actually a Death Eater, nor was he the Secret Keeper for the Potters, but he was Harry's oathbound godfather. Peter Pettigrew, however, was a Death Eater, and the Secret Keeper, and betrayed the Potters. He faked his death, setting up Sirius Black as the true criminal, and stayed in hiding as a rat until two years ago, when he escaped off to find and revive You-Know-Who, who he succeeded to resurrect during the Triwizard Tournament last year."

She glanced back up at Harry and raised a single eyebrow. "Am I understanding all of this so far?"

Harry shifted his weight back and forth between his feet as he felt the director's piercing stare on him, but he nodded simply in reply. "Yeah, that's about it. I mean, that's what you saw in the memories, and you and Tonks both already proved that they were authentic."

Madam Bones nodded silently to herself, before standing from her desk and slowly beginning to pace back and forth. "Well then, considering all that what you said is true, the situation we find ourselves in is quite dire, and made even more so due to Minister Fudge's attempts to hide his head in the sand and ignore any and all signs that You-Know-Who has returned. And considering the power-play he's been maintaining recently, there's little we in the DMLE can do currently about it."

"I was afraid you were going to say that," Harry said with a sigh, reaching up to rub his hand over his scar as he thought. His emerald eyes flashed behind his glasses, and he shot his gaze back up to the director. "What about Sirius, though? Is there anything you can do about that?"

At that, Madam Bones seemed to brighten just a bit, and she stood still for a moment. "That we can do—in fact, it's one of the few things that Fudge is giving us full liberty to look into, considering how convinced he is that all our troubles recently have just been the actions of Black. So long as we keep it under the guise of investigating Black in attempts to arrest him, I can probably have a few of my men working on trying to find what we can to prove Black's innocence."

"It would probably be a good idea to look into his trial," Tonks suggested, stepping up beside Harry and crossing her arms. "Sirius' told me a bit about what he remembers before being sent to Azkaban, and according to him it's all a blur—maybe we can find something in the trial documents that proves he wasn't in his right mind?"

"That's a good suggestion, Auror Tonks," Madam Bones replied, nodding to her subordinate with a firm smirk, before dropping it into a frown. "Another would be to get proof of Sirius Black having been Mr. Potter's oath-bound Godfather—if we have proof of that, perhaps the Potters' last will and testament, it would go a long way to proving that Black could not have been the one to betray Mr. Potter."

Harry blinked in surprise. "Wait, my parents had a will?"

Madam Bones nodded, quickly moving back to her desk and pulling out a few sheets of parchment, jotting down her thoughts as they came to her. "I'd assume so—you have to remember, Mr. Potter, your parents died during the war against You-Know-Who. Families were dying left and right, so people tried to have their affairs in order and up to date as much as possible. That would go double for yours, as well, being one of the most Ancient and Noble families in Great Britain."

Harry stared blankly back at Madam Bones, swallowing in a throat that felt more than a bit tight. "I had no idea…" he murmured. He wondered why no one had ever told him about this before. He'd been part of the Wizarding World for almost four years now, and had been with people who knew his parents closely. Why hadn't anyone mentioned a will to him until now?

Tonks, noticing Harry's shaken expression, stepped closer and placed her hand on his shoulder. "You'd probably be able to ask about it at Gringotts," she suggested with a soft smile. "The goblins may a bit ornery buggers sometimes, but if it's about your account, they'd be willing to help."

"And not just them," Madam Bones interrupted, looking back at them with a sharp stare. "Auror Tonks, since you are slightly more intimately connected to this situation, I'm assigning you on guard duty for Mr. Potter—between his memories and his proximity to both Black and You-Know-Who, he is principle for any cases we will be making to change things around here. As such, you are to keep a close eye on him, beginning with helping him procure evidence from Gringotts that proves Black's innocence."

Now it was Tonks' turn to be surprised, though hers quickly shifted into an elated excitement. Before, she had only been given a day to get to know Harry and have him fall for her—now, with Madam Bones' permission, she was going to be his personal bodyguard for at least a few weeks, maybe even months. How that would work around the Order's schedule, she would have to figure out at a later time, but at the moment Tonks just relished in the fact that her attempts to woo Harry would be a lot more often and, hopefully, a lot more intimate.

"You can count on me, Boss," she said with a sharp salute, smirking back at Madam Bones. "Is that all, then?"

The director looked up from her parchment and nodded, smirking firmly back at Tonks. "For now, that is all. You are both dismissed, though I will want whatever proof you can find before the end of the day."

"Will do, Bonesy!" Tonks replied, before looping her arm in Harry's and spinning on her heel, half-walking half-dragging the young man along and out of the office. "Come on, now, Harry, time to see if we can't save your godfather finally!"

Amelia Bones raised an eyebrow as she watched them walk out, before sighing and pulling her monocle off and beginning to polish it as she thought. She had a feeling that having the two of them together would probably be more trouble than good in the long run, but at the moment it was the best option. She had a few ideas of what Tonks might attempt with Harry during her time as his personal bodyguard, but those were only her assumptions.

Besides, she had more pressing matters to attend to.

Frowning, Madam Bones turned her attention to the parchment sitting on her desk before her. While most of her notes had to do with proving Sirius Black's innocence and the return of You-Know-Who, there were more than a few that pointed out Harry Potter's close proximity to all of it. Particularly in the case of You-Know-Who, Madam Bones had noticed that Mr. Potter had been involved in several attempts to resurrect You-Know-Who, two of which he had managed to prevent.

It couldn't be a coincidence. For one reason or another, Harry Potter was intimately connected to everything You-Know-Who had been attempting over the past five years. From an attempt to claim immortality using the Philosopher's Stone—with the assistance of a teacher at the school, which Amelia had not even remotely known about—to his resurrection last year, Harry had been there each time. But why? And for what reason?

Madam Bones frowned, before writing out a few messages and sending them out. It was time to start digging around, time to start finding answers to these questions she sought.

She doubted she'd like what she'd find.

One ride up the elevator, walk out the Ministry, and a gut-wrenching apparation later, Harry and Tonks found themselves standing in an alleyway nearby the Leaky Cauldron. Harry took a moment to lean against a nearby wall and still his nerves—he still wasn't all that used to apparation just yet—while Tonks had to stifle her own amusement at his plight.

"Oh come on, Harry, it wasn't that bad," she commented, smirking at her companion. "It does get better in time, and soon you'll be learning to do it yourself."

"Can't…wait…" Harry grumbled, looking up to shoot Tonks a half-hearted glare, which she merely laughed off.

"Seriously, I'm certain you'll be fine once you start it yourself," she suggested, before waggling her eyebrows and sidling up close beside him, pressing her bust against his arm and expanding her breasts slightly again. "And, if it helps, I can be your coach for it—be there for you if you need any help…"

Harry's glare quickly disappeared in a field of red as his face lit up with a fierce blush. The young man quickly looked away, coughing in embarrassment and shaking his head. "Um, thanks Tonks, I'll, uh, certainly think about it!"

Tonks laughed again before slipping her arm back into his and leading him out into the street again. Before they entered the Leaky Cauldron, she turned and waved her wand at Harry, casting a quick Notice-Me-Not charm over him—something that he greatly appreciated once they entered the building, as it was more than a bit crowded at the moment, and Harry wasn't in the mood to be bombarded by unwanted attention, especially considering how the Prophet was making him out to be.

Careful not to run into anyone or cause a scene, Harry and Tonks cut a quick path through the bustling crowds of shoppers and down the alley towards Gringotts. The goblins standing to either side of the enormous golden doors seemed to narrow their eyes on Harry and Tonks—clearly the Notice-Me-Not charm affected them differently than wizards and witches—but they made no move to stop them. Once inside, the Notice-Me-Not charm was dropped, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

For a moment.

And then he realized that he had no idea what to do next.

Harry had only been to Gringotts a few times in his life—once when he was eleven and newly introduced to the Wizarding world, and once when he was thirteen and was essentially living in the Alley. As such, he'd mainly only ever dealt with the general tellers, and had followed the general flow of passerby to do so. It had worked well enough at the moment, so he hadn't really bothered to learn any further details about the bank.

Now, though, he was having the sudden realization that he didn't quite know where he would have to go to learn about his parents' will. He was fairly certain that it wasn't something that he could just ask one of the general tellers about, but at the same time he had not a clue where else to go. And unfortunately for him, none of the goblins desks had any signs that, at the moment, made sense as to where he should go.

As if sensing his distress, Tonks stepped closer and spoke lowly. "Now then, Harry, since we're dealing with your family dealings, it's probably best to speak to your family account's manager."

The pink haired auror scanned the surrounding tellers and desks for a moment before nudging him with her elbow and nodding towards a booth along the right side of the room. There, sitting behind the desk, was an older grey-skinned goblin who was reading over a large tome and scratching notes into the margins with a white quill. Nearby was a sign that read 'Account Managers'.

"That should be it," Tonks stated confidently, before taking Harry's arm and leading him along.

As they approached the booth, the old goblin slowed his notetaking, his beady black eyes staring down at them from over the edge of his narrow spectacles. The look it shot them was more than a bit intimidating, but Tonks stood her ground as she stared back into the goblin's eyes, only dropping connection to read his name from the nameplate at his desk.

"Greetings, Teller Gricksnap," she stated crisply, "Mr. Harry Potter is here to view his parent's last will and testament, and has allowed me to accompany him."

Gricksnap sat up a little straighter, and his cold and piercing gaze shifted over to Harry. "Really, has he now?" the goblin asked, his voice coming out thin and raspy, like wind passing through a dead tree's branches. "Well then, I shall see if his account manager is available for a meeting."

"Please do," Tonks replied, her voice still the crisp tone as before, but taking on a slightly firmer edge, "we would like to ensure this is done as soon as possible—time is money, after all."

The goblin's face split into a grin at Tonks' reply, though to Harry it appeared much more like a fiendish snarl. "Well said, well said—I will be back in but a moment." With that, Gricksnap hopped down from his desk and walked back through a door behind him.

As soon as he left, Tonks turned back to Harry with a wink. "Lesson one about dealing with goblins, Harry—treat them with respect, but be firm. They respect strength, and are more willing to work with wizards and witches that present themselves confidently and self-assured than those that are anxious and nervous. Keep that in mind, and you will be fine."

Harry nodded, though the thought of not being anxious around the goblins only seemed to make him a bit more anxious than before. Before he could voice his concerns, however, the door Gricksnap had walked through opened again, and then another door that led to his desk from the main lobby, revealing the grey goblin standing there for them. "Account Manager Sharpclaw is ready to see you now," he stated, shooting them both a snarling grin.

"Thank you, Teller Gricksnap," Tonks crisply replied, grinning back at him.

Nodding back at Harry, Tonks took his arm and followed the old grey goblin back behind the desk and through the door he'd come from, leading into a hallway with rows of doors lining either side of them. Over each of the doors were nameplates made of some gleaming metal—perhaps gold, or perhaps bronze. They walked past about a dozen of them, each with rough-sounding goblin names etched on them, before they finally arrived at Sharpclaw's office.

"Right here," Gricksnap snarled, before turning and walking off, leaving Harry and Tonks alone. Harry and Tonks looked at each other for a moment, before Harry stepped forward and, after knocking on the door, walked in.

The office inside was a sight to behold. While the walls and ceiling of the room were of the same white marble that the rest of the bank was carved from, the floor was a smooth grey granite, and a large black stone desk was set in the center of the room. Sitting behind the desk was a slightly darker-skinned goblin than Gricksnap, his silvery hair pulled back behind him, and wearing a well-pressed suit of black. Behind the goblin was a rather imposing-looking longsword, and to either side of the sword were the heads of a pair of griffons, beaks open in mid-screech.

Sharpclaw's lips pulled back into a snarling smirk as Harry entered the room, and he crossed his sharp-clawed hands over each other on his desk. "Ah, Mr. Potter—at last, we finally meet."

Harry stared back at Sharpclaw—like Gricksnap, his eyes were cold and dark, and he could see a bit of an evil wit gleaming behind them. He wanted to shy away from such a piercing stare, but he instead stood firm, remembering Tonks' advice, and stared confidently back at him.

"Greetings, Account Manager Sharpclaw," Harry replied, parroting Tonks' greeting from earlier. "I have come to view my parent's last will and testament. I only recently learned of its existence, and I would like to see what it has to say for myself."

Through the corner of his eye, he saw Tonks smirking at his efforts, her arm still wrapped around his in a show of support.

Sharpclaw's smirk widened, and the old goblin nodded to Harry. "I see, I see…and, I suppose your mate is here as well for that?"

At that, all composure and confidence Harry might've held disappeared like air escaping a popped balloon. This time, both Harry and Tonks blushed brightly, with Harry quickly and awkwardly trying to speak for himself. "Wha—no, no, Tonks isn't—she's not—"

"I'm his bodyguard," Tonks finally stated, her voice turning crisp and clear once more as she stared back at the sharp-clawed goblin. "I'm merely here to accompany him for his protection."

Sharpclaw's eyes narrowed at Tonks' words, and the metamorph felt as though the goblin was staring just a bit too closely at her—as though it could see something that she could not—before he finally looked away with a soft click of his tongue. "Well, very well then. However, before we get to your business, Mr. Potter, I have some business with you."

Harry blinked in surprise. "You have business with me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Uh, what sort of business."

"Well, Mr. Potter," Sharpclaw drawled, before reaching into his desk and slamming down a large folder filled with papers. "To be precise, we have nearly fourteen years' worth of account notifications, deal requests, and pending business ventures that have gone unanswered and unrecognized. All of which you are wholly accountable for, and as they are tied to your account, come with the necessary fees and punishments."

"What?!" Harry exclaimed, standing up quickly. Tonks nudged his side firmly at his exclamation, and he grimaced before calming himself down, slowly. When he was calm, he asked again. "What do you mean, punishments? I didn't even know I had any of these."

"By punishments, I mean certain limitations and penalties placed on your account due to how late it took you to respond to our summons," Sharpclaw replied with a nasty sneer. "We've been sending you these notifications for the past fourteen years, but seeing as neither you nor your magical guardian have done anything to respond to them, we are forced to punish you and make our proper claims."

Harry's eyes widened as what Sharpclaw stated came to him suddenly. "Wait, hold on—I've never received any mail from Gringotts before. Not even after I opened my trust account back in my first year at Hogwarts. There must be some mistake."

Sharpclaw frowned, standing up a bit. "Gringotts does not make mistakes, Mr. Potter—"

"Well they must've this time, because I swear that I have never received a single message from Gringotts in my entire life. And, whoever my magical guardian is, has never mentioned it to me, either." Harry was standing firmly now—though shaken by the revelation of this situation, he did not like people claiming he was a liar, or claiming he was in the wrong when he knew he was in the right.

For what it mattered, his firm tone seemed to get through to Sharpclaw, as the old goblin blinked at Harry's response, before frowning and nodding. "Well then, perhaps we'll have to look into this ourselves…if you truly did not know, they you truly are not at fault…we'll have to look into this…"

Nodding, Sharpclaw quickly wrote down a note, before pricking it with his claw. The note burst into flames on his desk, before shriveling up into nothing. "Alright then," Sharpclaw sighed, looking back up at Harry and Tonks with a smirk. "You wanted to see your parents' will, correct?"

"That's right," Harry replied with a nod, a bit of his eagerness slipping out. Again, Tonks nudged him.

Sharpclaw grinned back at Harry, before opening another drawer on the desk and pulling out another folder—this one much more slim and less intimidating-looking. The goblin flipped the folder open and set it down on the table, spinning it around so that it was facing towards Harry. Harry stared down at the folder for a moment, before reaching down and picking up the paper it held.

"'The Last Will and Testament of James Charlus Potter and Lily Potter ne Evans'," Harry read aloud, his voice getting a bit weak as he did. Tonks slipped her arm out of his and moved it around his back, holding him closer and helping to support him as he read the paper.

Harry didn't dare read aloud—he doubted he'd be able to handle it if he did. What he read, though, brought him to tears as well as turned his world upside down. He knew his parents had left him an inheritance, but just how much had been unknown until now. As it turned out, he owned a few homes—according to Sharpclaw, though, only one was still in one piece—and a rather nice percentage of Diagon Alley and the Prophet. Not enough to make any major changes, but enough that he could probably have a bit of a say in what was printed.

More, though, he found how much they loved him. The messages included specifically for him in the will were sweet and tender and filled with love. He'd always wondered how his parents had loved him, but the way they'd written to him in the will, the way they'd shared their hopes and dreams for him, brought tears to his eyes that he struggled to hold back before the goblin account manager.

Sighing, Harry blinked his tears away as he finally got to what they'd come for. "There it is," Harry finally sighed, turning the paper to Tonks. "Signed by my mother and father, 'Oath-bound Godfather—Sirius Black'."

Tonks grinned back at Harry, reading the paper herself, before looking back at Sharpclaw and setting the paper back down on the desk. "Is there any way that we can get a copy of this to take with us? It's important."

"I assumed it was important, you didn't need to say it," Sharpclaw replied, though he quickly extended one of his sharp claws over the desk to the paper and pressed the claw down on the document. In a shimmer of magic, the paper glowed, before seeming to split in two, becoming two separate pieces of paper, identical. Sharpclaw nodded and took one, placing it back into the folder. "There you go."

"Thank you," Tonks replied, taking the paper and slipping it into her bag, before reaching over and wrapping her arm around Harry's once more. "That will be all for now. Thank you, Account Manager Sharpclaw—may your dealings always bring you gold, and may those that aim to cheat you be brought low by your blade."

The goblin grinned at Tonks' words, and he nodded in turn. "And may you both find profit and pleasure in all that life brings you," he snarled, before standing and leading them to the door. "Until next time."

Harry nodded in reply, letting Tonks walk ahead and lead him out. As soon as they left Sharpclaw's office, Gricksnap appeared, his snarled grin looking up at them as he turned and led them back down the hallway towards the exit. After a similar exchange of pleasantries as they had with Sharpclaw, Harry and Tonks walked back out of the lobby and out into the front steps of Gringotts.

Once outside, Tonks glanced over at Harry and gently rubbed his arm. "You gonna be good, Harry?" she asked.

Harry nodded slowly, surprised by Tonks' perceptiveness. "Yeah…yeah, I'll be fine. It's just…nice to know, now, you know? Know that…they really cared for me, and they wanted so much for me…it's…it's kind of bittersweet, you know?"

Tonks nodded—though she couldn't fully understand what Harry was feeling, she knew enough to sympathize with him. The paper they were holding had revealed a lot about Harry's parents and the life they'd hoped for him than Harry had likely ever known, and that alone was something to bring both joy and tears to anyone's life.

Shaking her head, Tonks grinned at Harry and started walking down the bank's steps. "Well, enough about that—we've got the will, and a lot of time to kill until I gotta get this back to Bonesy, so why don't we hit up the Alley a bit? Have some fun, why don't we?"

Before Harry could reply to Tonks' sudden shift in mood, the pink haired auror was already dashing off to the nearest stores and cafes, dragging him along behind her.