Chapter 18
Harry sat at the table, glad of its near emptiness. The Gryffindors were apparently rather late risers, and he was one of the only ones there, the few others not daring to approach him. It meant that instead of participating in idle chatter, he could focus on the task currently at hand.
'Stop ogling the French girl.'
'I'm not ogling her,' Harry defended. 'I'm just, uh...scoping out my competition, and trying to identify any skills that she may have.'
Loki sighed. 'Have you found any?'
For a moment, Harry was silent, and then he finally said, 'She's really hot.'
'Supernaturally so. And also seventeen. Her being chosen as a champion indicates magical ability. Probably not the type to go for fourteen year-olds, no matter how pretty they are.'
'Did...did you just insult yourself?'
'No. I am far more attractive than you – even if we do look alike – and not fourteen.'
A snort escaped Harry. 'So what kind of creature do you think she is?' Harry wondered. 'She's blonde, so she can't be a vampire….'
'I really don't think that's how-'
'Not hairy enough to be a werewolf….' Harry interrupted, filling his tone with false stupidity.
'Stop trying to annoy me,, and the newspaper said she is a half-veela.'
A sigh of annoyance escaped Harry. 'So I'm guessing we can't use that to blackmail her – into losing the tournament, of course. I would never do anything more nefarious than that.'
Loki sneered. 'She is no threat anyway. We are far above the skill-level of all of the others. Winning will be no problem for us, whether we cheat or not.'
'Cheating?!' Harry gasped. 'How dare you accuse me of conspiring to commit such treachery?! I am quite frankly appalled!'
'I'm sure,' drawled Loki. 'You can detail your disgust to me later, but now there's an approaching girl you may want to talk to.'
Snapping back to reality, Harry glanced up. From the Ravenclaw table where the Beauxbatons students were sitting, Maria was walking over. For a moment he contemplated walking away, but this conversation would have to occur at some time.
"Maria," he greeted, switching to Italian as she sat down opposite him, "my first fangirl to dare approach me. I would give you an autograph, but handing out signatures is pretty stupid, what with the amount of rituals they can be used in." Mock filled his tone as he winked at her.
She raised a single elegant eyebrow. "That isn't what I came to talk to you about." He motioned for her to continue. "I just wanted to officially extend my family's hand of friendship to you as Harry Potter."
"Really? That's all?"
"A lot of people are going to want to ally themselves with the Boy-Who-Lived, and that's not even taking the Potter's wealth and influence into account. I thought it wise to be the first, seeing as I already know you, and the most people from the other schools won't do it anyway as a result of the tournament." She paused. "It isn't exactly the smartest way to create international relations, now that I think about it."
He nodded, making a mental note to go to Gringotts at some point and check the status of the Potter accounts. "I assume that you haven't informed anyone of my identity?"
"No, but Marco has worried about you since you left Italy and stopped sending letters."
A twinge of guilt ran through Harry, but he ignored it. "Will he be visiting to watch the tournament?" Maria nodded. "Very well, I will tell him then." He paused for a moment. "Oh, and I managed to get Dumbledore to give me my own room, so I haven't actually talked to any Hogwarts students yet. I don't really feel like talking to any of the other schools, so I don't suppose you can tell me when the First Task is?"
"The 24th of November." Almost four weeks to prepare, then. "Though there is a wand weighing ceremony in a few days."
For a moment, Harry was silent, allowing Loki to scour his mind for what she might be talking about. "What the hell is a wand weighing?"
"It's basically a press event for the champions to be further introduced, though a British wandmaker will be there to test whether or not the wands of the champions are in good condition."
Harry frowned and glanced at his sleeve. If the wandmaker was not Ollivander, he would have some explaining to do. "I'll be there," he murmured before standing up and finishing off a piece of bacon.
"Where are you going?"
"To get away before other students arrive." He was actually going to explore the castle and surrounding grounds to find out what the First Task is, but she didn't need to know that.
"Can I come?"
"No." With that, he turned and walked off.
As it turned out, Hogwarts was rather large, and Harry was rather impatient. After a short while, he was also rather lost. It was only a few minutes after that when he decided that no would really mind if he decided to get out by breaking a fourth story window and jumping out into the lake. So after, using bubble-head and water-proofing charms on himself, that was what he did.
Luckily the shore was quite nearby and it only took him a few minutes to reach it and pull himself onto. Upon seeing the size of the rest of the grounds, he decided that searching for the First Task could wait. Hell, it might not have even been prepared yet. Since he still couldn't be bothered to mingle with children, he thought it would be best to reschedule his visit to Gringotts to that day.
He walked farther and farther away from the castle, towards the wardline, and when he reached it, he mentally prepared himself for immense discomfort. And then, with a sharp crack, he disapparated.
A moment later, an identical sound marked his arrival at an alley he recalled to be a street away from the Leaky Cauldron. He slumped against the wall, resting for a moment or two as Loki cured his nausea, sending forth a wave of icy coolness to destroy the feeling of impending vomit.
After another few minutes, Harry was making his way down Diagon Alley, ignoring Loki's muttering about the untrustworthiness of goblins. Then again, it probably said something about the species if the self-proclaimed god of lies thought that they shouldn't be trusted. Perhaps it would be a good idea to deposit his money in Italy once he told Marco of his true identity.
Entering the bank, Harry strolled up to the counter. Unlike last time, the goblins didn't seem to react badly to his presence.
'The illusions,' Loki said, his tone thick with realisation. 'We were under illusions last time, but we are not this time. Perhaps that is what they sensed.'
Harry hummed contemplatively, waiting for the goblin to look up. Angering them didn't seem like the smartest idea. Eventually the goblin asked, "Yes?" His tone was full of disdain, though it bounced straight off Harry - a side effect of having Loki in his head for almost a decade.
"I would like to access the Potter accounts."
Now the goblin looked up sharply, suddenly alert as his eyes flickered to Harry's scar for a moment. "Very well," he murmured. "You shall have to do a blood test to prove you are who you say you are." The goblin handed him a knife, and Harry could immediately feel the energy flowing through it.
'An enchanted goblin blade. It will penetrate our skin far easier than a mortal weapon would,' explained Loki. 'Probably a counter-measure in case an Asgardian discovers their continued existence and decides to eradicate them - they still wouldn't stand a chance.'
Dismissing Loki before he went off on a rant about the filthy cross-breed abominations, Harry carelessly swiped the blade across his hand, allowing a single drop of blood to fall into the stone bowl the goblin was holding forward - Loki had already taken the steps to stop people using his it to perform any ritual. It moved about for a moment, before emitting a crimson glow as it evaporated into nothing. The goblin nodded, apparently satisfied with the result, then turned to another creature and motioned towards him with his hand.
The second goblin walked over and the two briefly exchanged words, before the standing one said, "Follow me, Mr Potter."
A flicker of panic suddenly shot through Harry. 'They won't have sensed my unique blood composition, will they?'
'No. Perhaps if it was a test to see the families you are related to, but that was specifically to see if you are a Potter.'
Restraining a sigh of relief, he continued onwards, though readied himself to fight at a moment's notice. He found himself being led down a corridor, and then into a rusty-looking minecart. For the first time, the goblin showed emotion, baring his sharp, yellowed teeth into a grin as he motioned Harry in.
With only the slightest hesitance, Harry made his way into the cart, casting a bubble-head charm to stop wind from obscuring his vision. It proved to be a wise move a moment later as the cart sped to insane speeds and wind began to buffet his body. For an amount of time the disorienting speed and spinning made impossible to determine, they sped through the dark tunnels, only dimly lit by torchlight.
A few times however, a glimpse of well-illuminated chambers was seen. Loki's sharp reflexes allowed him to register what he was seeing instantly, and it looked as though Gringrotts had dragons. It seemed that the anti-theft inscription above their doors held some truth about attackers not standing a chance.
Eventually, the cart slowed to a stop, and the goblin got out, rapidly followed by an only slightly nauseous Harry. They were right outside a vault, and the goblin procured a key from his robes, handing it to Harry. With a glance back, he moved forwards, inserting the key into the lock, twisting, then taking a step back.
Gears grounded as mechanisms worked and the large metal door swung upon to reveal a rather underwhelming amount of gold. Sure, to an ordinary wizard, it would be worth a lot, but Harry had been led to believe that the Potters were incredibly rich, yet it appeared he had more than this already. Hell, he was certain that the Aureliuses had quite a few paintings worth more! There also didn't appear to be anything other than money, which was certainly odd for such an old family.
He turned back to the goblin, who had stood by the door. "Where's the rest?"
"This is just a trust vault. The rest can be accessed when the magic recognizes you as of age, bu-" He had no time to say more as Harry cut him off.
"Take me to it." Hopefully Loki being ancient would even out the age.
With but a nod, the goblin led him to the vault next to his own and said it required blood to be opened. Harry didn't hesitate to take his wand out and slash it across his palm, allowing it to cut him. No pain was felt, Loki already prepared to stop it, and Harry pressed his hand to the door. The blood flowed over the vertical surface, seemingly washing away a layer and presenting a keyhole which Harry promptly used his key to unlock. This door made even more protest than the previous, groaning loudly as it slowly opened.
Harry stood, prepared to be awed by the amount of gold - only to see even less than in the previous. Spinning around, he demanded, "What the hell is this?!"
The goblin shrugged. "Your parents and grandparents squandered most of their fortune in the war, spending it on their little vigilante group and donating it to Hogwarts and St. Mungo's."
Clenching his eyes shut, Harry resisted the urge to turn the goblin to a block of ice. It was not the creature's fault. It was the fault of his parents. He shuddered as he thought of what might have happened if they had survived. He would have went to Hogwarts at eleven with no previous magical tutelage, been a legitimate Gryffindor, head-strong, idiotic, and - worst of all - weak. Perhaps Lord Voldemort wasn't so bad.
With a large breath, he turned back to the vault and walked in, silently praying that his parents hadn't also seen it wise to sell all of the family's books and heirlooms. Luckily, that didn't seem to be the case, though it was suspiciously devoid of any dark magic. Harry rapidly learned that one of his ancestors had been a Dumbledore-esque figure to the wizarding world, a fact that he might've known if he had bothered to read any detailed history books.
What the history books did not reveal about "Lord Potter," however, was the massive ego that was displayed in his journal. In fact, he rather reminded Harry of Loki in multiple ways, one of them being how he semi-frequently accidently slipped into referring to himself in third person as well as bestowing titles upon himself. On the fifth page alone, he referred to himself as the Lord of the Light, the Destroyer of Demons, and the Saviour of Sorcery. He also seemed to have a thing for alliteration….
Needless to say, Harry took that book along with a few others, both for entertainment and power. Seeing as they had been hidden in a concealed room that most wouldn't have noticed, there could be magic in there not seen for centuries. There was one other object in the room that immediately caught Harry's attention: a shining silver sword, red gems inlaid in its elaborate hilt.
Upon seeing it, Loki let out a strangled gasp. 'What is it?' Harry demanded.
'I recognize it from a book I read long ago. I think this is the blade crafted by Merlin himself to be wielded by the King Arthur... It is said to give untold power to its wielder, from the ability to control dragons themselves, to opening a portal between realms in the blink of an eye...' Loki's tone was filled with greed and awe.
Harry's eyes widened as he stared upon the fabled Excalibur. 'What? Really?!'
'Of course not, you blithering idiot, Excalibur doesn't exist. Now hurry up, we have things to do.' Harry groaned as Loki broke out into laughter.
A/N: Didn't think I'd be that cliche, did you? ;) Anyway, tell me what you thought.
