• 2020s:

It had been Decades, literal Decades, since Voldemort was defeated. Decades... since Harry stopped aging.

Although, given wizards don't typically kick the bucket for a good 250 years. Well Harry wasn't exactly in a hurry to join the Afterlife.

He had his friends. Whom, thanks to wizard genes, had their own aging slowed, when they turned 25.

Harry might look younger then them, but not by much.

Today, Harry was sitting in a "pleasant" office, in Gringotts. As his account manager said he needed to see him.

Knifethrower sneered cheerfully at Harry, well "Cheerful" by Goblin standards. Most Goblins tended to like the Potter Heir, but Goblins were harsh things by nature. Harry tried to respect that, and attempted to at hear to Goblin custom.

They seemed to appreciate the effort... although it must be more then that. Even defeating Voldemort wouldn't account for the respect Goblins had for the boy. After all Voldemort, in Goblin eyes, was a wizard problem.

"It's finally come." Knifethrower's smile was cruel, though Harry could tell he was trying to be pleasant. "At last, you've turned 40."

Harry blinked, had he really? He stopped counting, being permanently trapped in the body of a teenager, his age stopped mattering. Oh he still celebrated his birthday, his friends made sure of that. But he stopped counting his age... it was just a reminder that he'd outlive his friends.

"According to the Wizarding / Goblin treaties. I finally have leave to tell you of your TRUE birth right." Knifethrower exposed all his pointy teeth.

Harry wanted to sick up. "I don't think I can handle any more birthrights," he sighed.

The Goblin actually chuckled, "Did you ever wonder why you look so much like your father? Why, with little effort, you excell at flying, a sport favored by your father? Why, despite all the cruelties the muggles put you through, all you wanted was their acceptance?" Goblins really could be blunt.

"You, Mister Potter," The Goblin grinned nastily, well still being excited, "Are a Tenza."

Harry's brain glitched. He knew of Tenza, of course. Care of Magical Creatures had spent all of 4th year going over the various Beings.

Sure, Harry had the tournament to worry about, but that didn't mean he got out of classes.

Tenza were like benevolent cuckoo birds. They laid millions of eggs, once every 5000 years. With it taking a hundred years to lay all the eggs.

Then those eggs instinctively flew off, in search of parents to raise them. Usually couples that couldn't have kids.

Tenza were rather obsessed with being "The perfect child". At least until they hit puberty, and went through a rebellious streak, like most teenagers... which actually explained why Harry had such a bad temper, in his 5th and 6th year. It wasn't just all the crud he was dealing with (although that didn't help), but his Tenza instincts finally letting him stop trying to be "The perfect child".

Muggles had a habit of worshipping Tenza as gods. Both the ancient greeks, and the Egyptians, mistook Tenza for legitimate divine beings.

Those wizards, of unfathomable power, were actually Tenza. Tenza who chose wizards as their parents.

". . ." Harry couldn't help but stare blankly. Honestly! He thought he was done with people keeping secrets from him, about his life. "Sure you don't have the wrong file?"

Knifethrower sneered, a true sneer. "While the Goblin nation is forever grateful towards you. I don't appreciate the cheek."

Harry blushed, "Sorry... it's just... a lot to take in."

Knifethrower nodded his forgiveness, though he didn't verbalize it.

"You best get over the shock quickly," Knifethrower demanded. "As we still have to go over your new responsibilities."

Harry groaned, "I'm already a surviving child soldier, master of death, and Lord over the Potter and Black Estates. I think I have all the responsibility I can deal with."

"Too damn bad," Knifethrower said, as way of comfort. Strangely that being very comforting by Goblin standards. "The treaty allows for you to spend the first 40 years of your life, in the wizarding's care. Now, it's time for you to learn monster culture."

Harry blinked.

"There is a school, that specializes in educating beings, in how to adapt to human culture. The Various races have agreed for you, and the others, to go there."

Harry blinked more, "You want me to go to Goblin school?"

The Goblin sneered, patiently. Harry was rather good at reading Goblin expressions. "Not 'Goblin School'. I very much doubt you would survive that. The school, you will be attending, was founded by Yokai, but other Sapient monsters attend as well."

Harry groaned, "I know I look young, but I'm too old to go back to school."

"This school is for any Being, between 15 and 100, and teaches many muggle subjects. Which you can't deny your wizarding upbringing was lacking."

Harry slouched, then dared be cheeky. "Not if I lie."

Knifethrower rolled his eyes, "Your mother really valued wit far too much, for a Tenza to be that cheeky."

Harry smiled, appreciating the friendly (by Goblin standards) observation.

Knifethrower moved on, "The School also teaches high school through college courses. You could potentially spend over a decade, in study. After which, you will be expected to apprentice under a monster of your choice. In a trade of your choice. But you will spend the next 40 years, learning about the culture of monsters.

"At which point, you will become a go between, for Monster and Wizard relations. Your current job, as a 'problem solver', will aid in this. You will also hold a chair on the 'Council of Monsters', as well as the 'Confederation of Wizards'. In addition to your current seat on the Wizengamot."

Harry had given the other seat to Hermione. As she was the only one really interested in politics.

Harry felt his head spinning.

Knifethrower snorted, sympathetically. "Given the last few Tenza Generations, ruled over the world as gods, both the Wizards and the Monsters, want to make sure your Generation doesn't attempt the same.

"And too be frank, both wizards and monsters are terrified what you might do, if you favored one culture over the other. Once you turn 100, and fully grow into your power, you'll be able to destroy star clusters with a passing thought. We want to make sure you have a healthy respect for life."

"You, in particular, given you were molded into a living weapon, by that lemon drop loving coot." now Knifethrower gave a true sneer.

"What Dumbledore was thinking, using a Tenza as an instrument of war, I can't fathom. Sending you against the Dark Lord, was like dropping a nuke to get rid of an ant-hill. The potential damage to the world, isn't worth it.

"That's the very purpose behind the treaties. To make sure no nation attempts to use a Tenza, as we saw where that can lead with the Previous Generations.

"The repercussions of raising a Tenza into a soldier, a child soldier at that..."

Knifethrower gave Harry a calculating look.

Harry shrugged, "Dumbledore didn't expect me to become Master of Death. I was supposed to die before I reached adulthood." 17 might be legally an adult, but that hardly counted.

Harry knew everything Dumbledore did was... kinda messed up, but he couldn't help himself from loving the man. Being one of the few adults to show him kindness... Harry walked to his death... because Dumbledore wanted him to... and killed Voldemort for similar reasons.

Because he was supposed to. Because everyone was counting on him, because everyone believed it was his responsibility, and so it was... ignore all the adults that should have handled the situation.

Maybe Knifethrower had a point. If Dumbledore had asked Harry to conquered the world for him... he probably would have.

He could see why Tenza, raised as weapons, were thought of as dangerous.