Harry groaned as she regained consciousness once more. Her head was in agony. Like her brain was under the cruciatus curse. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed the heels of her palms into the sockets to attempt to dispel the pounding pain.
"Ah, at last," a strange, grating voice sounded somewhere off to her right. "The young Mistress Peverell rejoins the realm of the living once more. I have something for your pain. Drink."
A small potion was pressed against her arm by a vaguely claw like hand. Harry removed one hand from her head and grabbed the vial, uncorking it with her thumb. She downed it with no hesitation. Not caring if it killed her, as long as she was no longer in pain. The potion tasted foul. Worse than the horrendous concoctions she was used to, but it was effective. In the space of two breaths the excruciating pain behind her eyes had dulled to almost nothing.
With the pain manageable, Harry slowly opened her eyes and attempted to sit up- only to be reprimanded by the same grating voice. "Stay down!" the voice snapped.
Harry obeyed, recognizing the harsh tone of a healer from all her time under the tender mercies of Madam Pompfrey. She turned her head to see her current warden. She blinked as she saw a goblin scowling at her, holding a large roll of parchment. "Where am I?" She asked, her voice hoarse as though she hadn't used it in years.
The goblin before her snorted derisively. "You are in Gringotts' healing ward, Miss Peverell. And your very being here is causing quite a kerfuffle."
"I'm sorry?" Harry questioned
"It does not matter, so save your apologies." The goblin stated brusquely. "I only care to check to see that you are healthy enough to go about your business and leave my ward."
Harry nodded, and the grumpy goblin healer started muttering in gobbledygook. A few waves of odd feeling magic washed over her, and the healer nodded, seeming satisfied.
"You are more or less healthy," the healer stated, sounding very satisfied. Another potion was pressed into her hand. "If the pain increases again, take this. I recommend a good meal and sleep within the next four to five hours if possible. Now, Brodlok!"
A smaller goblin raced in and bowed "Yes healer," he responded.
"You are to escort Mistress Peverell to account manager Kurlast"
"Yes healer," And with that, Brodlok disappeared out the large stone door once more.
"He'll be waiting for you outside the door. Now. Sit yourself up slowly."
Harry obeyed, fearful of the wrath of the goblin healer before her.
"Any change? Dizziness, light head, nausea?"
"Nothing."
"Good. Now swing your legs this way and stand slowly."
Harry stood, and was surprised that the goblin healer only came up to about her chest height. And she was never very tall herself, only barley touching 150 cm (about 5' 1").
"Still feeling good?" the healer asked.
"I feel fine. Thank you healer." Harry bowed her head. It was a shallow mimicry of the bow Brodlok had given, but conveyed her thanks and respect regardless.
The healer looked away, shoving the scroll of parchment into a pocket. "I have orders to send you to your account manager as soon as you are well enough to walk. You are cleared. Leave my ward." And with that, the healer bustled off, leaving Harry by herself.
"I suppose I'd better see what's going on then," Harry sighed as she stepped towards the door. It swung open smoothly with barely a touch, and revealed Brodlok once more.
"So you are cleared Mistress Peverell," he stated, straightening his posture. "Excelent. Account manager Kurlast is expecting you. Follow me." And before she could speak, he was moving at a brisk pace. Harry hurried to catch up, the sudden change of pace not helping the slight throbbing that was starting to increase behind her eyes once more.
A few minutes and several twisting corridors later, Brodlok stopped and indicated a small stone door, only discernable from the surrounding stone walls by a small lining of silver, and a small golden plaque in its center. "Account Manager Kurlast awaits you inside." Brodlok bowed and scurried off, leaving Harry alone in the artistically rough-hewn corridor.
Harry blinked for a moment at the rather abrupt departure, and turned to the door beside her. Upon brief inspection, she found that there was no visible handle, nor hinges to indicate which way the door would swing. At a complete loss of what else to do, Harry raised her fist, and knocked on the nameplate in the center of the door.
Nothing happened for a moment, leaving Harry standing, feeling incredibly foolish, when suddenly the door swung open inwards.
"Mistress Peverell," A sharply dressed goblin with gold framed spectacles gestured that she enter from behind a rather magnificent wooden desk. "Come sit. We have much to discuss."
Harry did as asked, examining the rather resplendent office as she entered. It was nothing like the comparatively crude corridors that she had come to know in her few visits to the wizarding bank. The floor was a bright polished granite, the walls smooth and displaying various crafted pieces on plaques. There were several shelves carved into the wall behind the desk, each filled with books and files. Records- she assumed, of various accounts held within the bank. The door slammed shut behind her, causing her to whirl around, reaching for her wand. Upon seeing no new threat, she forced herself to relax, replacing her wand within its holster on her forearm.
"Account Manager Kurlast," Harry slightly inclined her head as she took the plush seat in front of the resplendent desk. "May your enemies cower before you."
A slightly feral grin spread across Kurlast's face. "And may the spilt blood of yours be a warning to others." Kurlast regarded the young looking witch before him before continuing. "On to business. You arrived in the lobby of this bank at 47 minutes past 9 in the morning yesterday, 27 July. You were unconscious and unresponsive, so we took you to our healer and preformed a heritage ritual to determine who you are." Kurlast frowned. "Unfortunately, your unexpected arrival created quite a disturbance. You appeared out of nowhere and landed upon one of our other patrons, Heir Black, as he was accompanying his father to a pre appointed meeting with his own account manager."
Harry stared for a moment as she took that information in and groaned, covering her face with her hands as she muttered several obscenities involving Death and Time. Kurlast dutifully ignored the outburst, shuffling papers until Harry recomposed herself.
"My apologies Account manager. I trust that the bank was able to maintain its relationship to Lord and Heir Black?"
"Indeed we did," Kurlast responded, seemingly unconcerned. "Neither party was injured, and indeed, Lord black was more than willing to accept the apologies offered once we learned of your status mistress."
"One moment please, Kurlast." Harry raised a hand. "Every goblin I have seen today has referred to me as Mistress. Why am I being given that title? I was under the impression that I would be referred to as Lady Peverell once I accepted my Ladyship, which I have not done yet."
"Ah, yes." Kurlast pulled up a particular sheet of parchment and looked it over. "According to our records, a formal acceptance is not necessary for acknowledgement of the title. As long as certain prerequisites are met, which you have, the title will be acknowledged within the walls of our established nation."
Harry frowned. "What were the prerequisites?"
Kurlast read directly from the parchment. "The title of Master or Mistress Peverell will be bestowed upon the next kin of the line of Peverell prior to the acceptance of the head of house ring should the following conditions be met. Firstly, they have reached the age of majority, or, should they be the last of kin, age 13. These are the ages at which the next head should be presented with the heir or head of house ring, should none of the other conditions be met. Second, they must have at least one of the Hallows in their reasonable possession for a year or more. Third, exemplifying our house's pride and honoring Death as our oldest friend."
Kurlast looked up as he finished reading and grinned at Harry's Incredulous expression as he opened a desk drawer and withdrew a small wooden box, placing it directly in front of Harry. "You, Mistress Vulpecula Harriet Peverell, to the magic of your family, have done all of these things. Magic herself recognized you as Mistress Peverell and We of the Goblin Nation refer to you as such. Your accepting the rings at this point is merely a formality for the legality of your station within the Wizarding court."
Harry leaned back in her seat and rubbed her temples. Partially in an attempt to soothe the throbbing behind her eyes once more, and partially to allow the information to sink in. "Damn you Death." She muttered under her breath. The pain was not at all helping the situation, so she took out the second potion that the healer gave her and downed it. Almost immediately the pain was nearly nonexistent.
Harry straightened up once more and picked up the box the goblin had presented her with. It was light, both in color and in weight. There was no latch, but as soon as Harry's fingers brushed across the top, the surface shimmered out of existence. Inside the light wood was an interior of black velvet, cushioning a ring. It was a platinum band, with a large black gemstone surrounded by various smaller gemstones in shades of grey. The large central gem had the Peverell coat of arms carved into its face, detailed with small inlays of platinum emphasizing the thestral that represented the house so proudly.
Harry admired the ring as she carefully removed it from its home. The metal was cool to the touch, but welcoming. Harry forced herself not to blush as the thought crossed her mind that it felt very similar to what Death's lips felt like when they had kissed her. She studiously ignored that very intrusive thought as she slowly slid the ring onto her left middle finger. A wave of magic caressed her as the ring sized itself to fit her slender fingers.
"Excelent," Kurlast said, taking the now empty box and stowing it away in his desk drawer. "Now. You have been uncocious for the better part of two days, but because of the size of your familial account, we have not yet been able to take a full accounting of your holdings." Harry nodded and waved for him to continue. "We do, however, have a list of some of your familial properties available for you now, as well as a list of which house elves are still tied to serve your familial line."
Harry accepted the thick stack of parchment that Kurlast held out to her. As she looked through, she saw that many of the properties were listed as uninhabitable due to years, if not centuries of neglect. It made sense though, and harry found that she did not care as there were only three house elves listed as still in her service after however long the line has been dormant. All three were listed as being tied to the familial property in Blackmoor. Harry looked up from the file and spoke rather imperiously. "Very well Kurlast. I thank you for your hard work attaining this information on such short notice. I trust that we shall arrange another meeting when you have finished accounting my familial holdings."
Kurlast nodded. "Yes Mistress Peverell. I anticipate that the full accounting shall be done in approximately three weeks due to the size of the accounts. However, I can now give you your key and allow you to access one of the smaller trust accounts to access your money until the full accounting has been completed." He presented a small platinum key with a large black gemstone adorning the handle. It was obviously made to reflect the house ring, harry thought, admiring it for a moment. "As the head of your house, you have access to the full family holdings, however, the account has been dormant for such a time that we will require a team of curse breakers to reopen the vault for you. It is a security measure that after 200 years of an account being dormant a ward is automatically placed to kill anyone attempting to open the vault so that we can reassign security measures to active vaults."
Harry nodded. "I expect regular updates on your accounting work."
"Every three days I shall send out a report," Kurlast agreed. "Now, the healer has stressed the importance of you resting to me. We have spent too long as is and I value my life too much to keep you here longer." He reached once more into his desk and pulled out a small bag. "A bag for you to hold your gold in after you visit your vault. It has a standard expansion charm and featherlight charm. Once you are out of the lobby, you may use your house ring to travel to whichever Peverell property you so desire."
"Thank you Kurlast," she said as she rose from her seat. "May you bathe in the glory of your enemies deaths."
"May gold and glory follow your endeavors," Kurlast responded. "Brodlok Will be waiting for you in the corridor, waiting to take you down to your vault."
Harry thanked him once more and exited the office.
"Mistress," Brodlok extended his hand towards her, holding a red satin ribbon. She looked at it and raised an eyebrow at the small goblin. "Mistress, Because you were unwell we have special permission to use this special portkey to take you to the trust vault and back up to the lobby. The carts would not be helpful in this instance."
Harry accepted that explanation and gingerly gripped one end of the ribbon. Not a moment later the portkey activated, feeling like a hook had grabbed somewhere below her navel and yanked upwards. Her head spun, even as she felt herself landing. Brodlok gripped her elbow as she swayed, steadying her.
"Thank you," she muttered, as her vision stopped swimming. She quickly removed her key from her pocket and opened the vault door, and froze.
Harry remembered how she felt the first time she had been to Gringotts. The sheer awe that she had felt when she had first beholden the seeming mountains of coins that her parents had left behind for her. That was nothing compared to this. There had to be millions of galleons in this vault alone. And this was a low(er) security trust vault. She couldn't even comprehend how much more there was in the full family vault, let alone the worth of the doubtless hundreds if not thousands of artifacts that the line had collected over the centuries.
Harry shook herself internally and took out the expanded bag. She approached one of the smaller mountains of galleons and waved her wand at it. The pile neatly rose up and flew into the bag. Satisfied that she had enough for now, she turned and exited the vault.
The portkey trip back up to the lobby was no better than the first, and harry dreaded the final portkey to what would be her new home.
She steeled herself as she exited the gringotts building, and willed the ring to take her home.
As she arrived onto the Peverell grounds for the first time, she collapsed onto her hands and knees and heaved. It would have been quite the mess had there been anything in her stomach. She acknowledged the squeaking voices of a couple different house elves as they fretted over her, but she couldn't bring herself to do anything about it.
Her last thought before pain and exhaustion took her once more was that at least she would be taken well care of this time.
Sorry for always ending it on her passing out. I promise it won't always be that way.
Let me know what you think! I'm open to suggestions too!