Chapter 4

A new home

July 28, 1991,

Tom's pub, rented room,

Diagon alley, England

Harry rolled out of bed and walked to the door of his room, snatching his pajama top off the chair it was hanging on and donning it as he opened his door to find the cleaning witch standing outside with a smile.

Nodding and waving her inside his room he went back to his bed and grabbed the book he'd been reading when he fell asleep last night. Placing it on his desk out of the way he watched intently as the woman waved her wand and chanted a phrase in Latin, suddenly he felt a surge of magic grow from her wand and then release like a balloon. As the magic balloon 'deflated' it swept outward from her wand in a rippling motion.

As the ripples of magic touched each piece of furniture they reacted following the magic's orders and carrying out the witch's will. His bed made itself, the chair slid under his desk, and his clothes folded themselves and were stacked on her cart. With her job done the witch gave him one last smile and left the room as Harry pulled his chair back out and sat down to contemplate.

He'd gotten better and better at sensing magic, if he was unfocused then he could feel the general direction of where a spell came from but when he concentrated, he could tell the exact point and more importantly the shape of the spell cast, he couldn't do use magic himself to test it but sitting around Diagon alley for the last few days had proved it time and again.

He'd been going crazy in his room, there were answers to practically every question he had in his books, the problem was that all the spells he had wanted to try he couldn't, at least not until he was at Hogwarts. Besides that, he also realized that his power, while interesting, wasn't all that useful. It gave him milliseconds warning before someone cast a spell, but because of the nearly unlimited number of spells, the ability to tell the shape of the magic couldn't tell him what the spell was or did.

For example, he'd found out from watching others in the alley that three spells had the same shape before they were released, the cleaning spell he'd just seen, a mass calming spell he'd seen at the pet shop, and finally a cooling spell at the ice cream shop. If just those three common spells shared the deflating balloon shape, then how would his sense help him?

Aside from his frustration at learning that his gift wasn't as special as he thought there was also the frustration, he felt simply from reading his books, they were simply amazing, from spells to theories, to potions, and even different types of magic to accomplish the same task. All of this frustrated him merely because he couldn't try it, he was kept from practicing spells due to the law, and when he'd asked if he could set up a cauldron Tom had pointed him to a sign listing the rules of the tavern.

Luckily today he'd be able to relieve some of his frustration. Today he would be able to finally meet with his attendant at Gringotts, he'd be able to see what he owned both in property and in physical items, and he would also be able to find an exact number as to what was in his vault.

Dressing, he left the pub and made his way down to the bank nodding to the goblins that opened the door for him and got in line. He was in line for a few minutes before he was addressed by a goblin that approached him. "Mr. Potter, I presume?"

Nodding to the creature Harry had to contain his shock as it whirled around and began walking away, not even pausing or giving him a response to follow. As they made their way through the bank the goblin pointed to a different line whose clients had grander robes and waited barely a second before a goblin walked up to them and led him away. "For future reference members of your stature use that line Mr. Potter."

Nodding to himself and storing the information he had to appreciate that he wouldn't need to wait when he came to the bank in the future. Following the goblin, they entered the hallways leading to the back of the bank, and Harry realized without a map or guide he'd be utterly lost. The maze of hallways was made mostly of straightaways and hairpin turns, often having a four-way intersection and no visual markers but the same painting placed in every hallway.

Eventually, the goblin leading him stopped in front of a door bowing before he walked down the hall and disappeared around a corner. Pushing the goblin from his thoughts Harry observed the door trying to find a defining feature he could use. He came up with nothing at all, it was the standard height and shape of a door, and it was made of wood with identical grain patterns to the others and no wear or tear.

Sighing and resigned himself to having to use a guide he knocked on the door and waited a few seconds before a gruff voice barked an order to enter. Walking into the office he was met with the face of a goblin sitting behind a desk that wore a look of surprise, he wasn't quite sure. Harry hadn't been around the species yet to fully grasp their facial expressions yet, but it seemed he was correct in his guess as the goblin addressed him.

"Mr. Potter, I was expecting you, but only assistants and other managers knocked. Sorry, please take a seat, based on your request. We have a lot to do." As he took his seat the goblin left his and walked to a filing cabinet removing a massive stack of papers. Placing the stack on the desk between him the goblin removed the smallest folder from top of the stack and then the next smallest placed them on the desk.

"This first folder holds the details for all current and past property your family holds, The next folder contains everything else, stocks, bonds, gold, family heirlooms, the works. It's your choice which we dissect first, Mr. Potter." Raising his hand, he began to ask about the other much larger stack when he was cut off. "Ah, this stack is the total list of receipts, it includes transactions, shifting of funds, donations, sales, transfers of stocks, and other rather uninteresting records."

Harry nodded at the man and waited for a second to think before he answered. "I don't think we need to go over that, aside from binding contracts, what my family did in the past doesn't concern me so much as what I'll be doing in the future."

"Very astute Mr. Potter, and quite a time saver, so currently held items or property?" As he talked the goblin hefted the large stack of papers from his desk and replaced it in the filing cabinet before he quickly walked back to his seat. By the time the banker had retaken his seat, Harry had an answer for the man, or goblin rather.

"I know I can't use any of it but is it possible that we could simply go down to the vault to see the physical property and then come back up to discuss the property?" The goblin smiled at Harry and hopped down from his chair, walking to the door and opening it.

There were no words as Harry followed the goblin through the halls there were no words and Harry was quickly becoming aware that the goblin race did not waste words on anyone. After a mysteriously short walk, Harry and the goblin emerged from the carpeted halls back into the marble foyer and made their way to a set of carts.

As the cart dipped and dived through the cave beneath the bank, he had to say he quite enjoyed himself, the whistling of the wind and the sharp jerking motions banished his seemingly endless stream of thoughts, and he was able to simply focus on the thrill he felt of traveling at such speed.

All too soon the cart ride ended, and Harry was once again guided through a series of hallways by the goblin, although this time the hallways were made of carved stone and lined with huge vault doors. Eventually, their trek ended at one of the doors sets with a crest in the middle, it was the size of his hand and was divided in the middle by the crease of the double doors.

Before he could properly examine the crest, the doors opened inwards, and Harry quickly followed the Goblin so as not to be left alone in the featureless maze. Standing in the vault he had to contain himself, there was simply so much, so much history, his history. As he cast his gaze around the vault Harry smiled at the sense of acceptance radiating from the walls.

"As you can see Mr. Potter, your family may not have been the wealthiest in the world, but they were nothing to scoff at, in this room are all your collected valuables and objects anyone in your family wanted to store, even some schoolbooks and recovered property from Godric's Hollow." The Goblin walked over to the edge of the room and retrieved a stool from a hidden alcove and sat down pulling out a list and waving Harry on to explore.

"There is another vault that houses your trust fund, so you don't spend it all in one place, along with that there is a room in the back that contains your family's collected gold. All in all, in gold alone your family has around two hundred thousand galleons before we begin collections from your family's investments."

Walking forward Harry took a deep breath and decided to focus on the section he'd be most familiar with, a bookcase. As he approached his manager's voice echoed off the vault walls behind him. "Most of your family's literature is still housed in Potter manor at the moment, these are simply the most important and those collected from Godric's Hollow."

As he ran his hand down the bookcase, he was surprised to see the majority of it was comprised of muggle fantasy books and even a large collection of old comics at the bottom. Taking one out he opened it to the back page and in delicate writing on the bottom right of the page he saw who owned it, "Property of Lily Evans." Smiling, he gently placed the book back on the shelf, he would have taken it back to his room to read, but he'd already found and finished that line.

At the top of the shelf, however, it was full of ancient-looking tomes bound in different colors of leather with golden bindings. Taking one off the shelf and opening it as gently as possible he was met with a manuscript of sorts. The first page was the recipe for a potion called Sleekeazy, whatever that was. Past the front page were the writer's thoughts, from the crossed-out ideas to circled solutions Harry was able to accurately see how the writer came to make or rather invent this Sleekeazy in a step-by-step pattern.

"What in the world is Sleekeazy?" Harry's quiet question echoed around the vault for a short time before his manager answered him.

"Sleekeazy is what built a vast amount of your family's fortune, it was an invention made by your grandfather. The Sleekeazy potion is a hair potion used by witches and wizards worldwide due to its effectiveness and affordability after inventing it and starting the Sleekeazy company your grandfather multiplied your family's wealth by four." Turning back to the manuscript there was a second where Harry's brain stopped before he quickly and carefully placed it back on the top shelf realizing that he was holding something priceless.

Turning away from his grandfather's amazing creation he was faced with clothes, there wasn't too much to say there, they seemed to just be clothes, although he comforted himself that if he ever ran out of money, he'd have something to fall back on. But past the clothes, there was another shelf or a rack holding swords.

As he placed a hand on one of the weapons his manager spoke up once again. "Ah, I've always loved those, I must say in general your grandfather was quite the craftsman in everything he did, they may be simple, but they have an elegance to them, and of course, they're unique."

As he ignored a dagger and picked up a rapier Harry voiced his confusion, "Isn't every weapon unique, because no two can be made the same?" The Manager let out a barking laugh startling Harry, whirling around at the foreign sound Harry's weapon caught on one of the hanging robes slicing it cleanly in half despite there being little to no pressure in his swing, deciding to put the weapon down he assessed the damage done to the clothing as his manager continued speaking.

"Very true young one but these aren't any blades, these are goblin-forged, or human-goblin forged blades. Goblin-forged weapons are valuable beyond measure because of both their magical properties and their rarity among your kind. A goblin smith must respect a human very much to give or sell them one, and when the human dies the weapon is returned."

"Along with this, these swords are utterly unique because while they were forged using Goblin techniques, it was a human hand that forged them, your grandfather. Long ago, before even your father was born and right after your grandfather invented Sleekeazy there was a fool who decided it would be okay to cause chaos in the world by faking galleons."

"This was far from the first time, but this fool was very good, somehow, he was able to fool everyone with these counterfeits, the only way to tell was when one melted in your hands many months later, or if you stored it with real galleons, it would melt those. Naturally, this causes chaos and confusion. Goblins may be warriors but first and foremost we are bankers because the person making the counterfeits was presumably human. Every goblin was outraged that they would attempt to destroy our credibility and livelihood."

"The wizards suffered as well not being able to trust their banks or the money in their hands, pockets, or vaults. And so, no wizards wanted to spend their gold and gain infected gold, so the economy came to a sudden halt, the event sparked old wounds, the humans feeling cheated by goblins and the goblins hating the humans for what the fool did."

"Eventually in both nations, there was talk of war, until one day your grandfather came into the bank and unloaded a pile of Galleons before pouring a potion on the pile. Right there in the middle of the foyer, the pile seemed to melt, except only half was gone, your grandfather had found a way to leave the real galleons behind but speed up the melting process of the fake ones. Your grandfather's solution was sought by everyone, but he did something amazing, in the bank he handed the recipe for the potion to the former king before burning the other manuscripts and obliviating himself of the knowledge to make it."

"He'd single-handedly given the goblin nation their credibility back and might have even stopped a war, so in exchange for the priceless knowledge of his potion the Goblin nation granted him equally priceless information, the details of goblin forging, making your family the only human known by any race besides our that can forge such weapons."

As his manager stopped the story and looked at him Harry had to compose himself, it seemed his grandfather was a truly great man. Looking back at the weapons he trailed his hands over them with reverence.

Walking past them he continued to the final item that had caught his attention, a group of paintings stacked against the wall. Along with the paintings, there was a cabinet full of brushes, paints, canvases, and mysterious gold liquid in bottles. Again, his manager spoke up.

"Ah, that was one of your grandmother's projects if I recall. She took the time to paint portraits of the potter family going back generations, unlike most others she painted these by hand, the bottles contain their memories, or at least as many as were salvageable due to time. The goal was to use the memories and make the paintings come to life, sadly she wasn't able to finish it, by the time she collected the memories and finished the paintings the war had started and there were things deemed more important."

Harry began sorting through the portraits, the front of the stack seemed to hold the oldest generations based on the way the clothing changed, with the most recent ones being closer to the wall. Harry observed the faces of each painting swallowing, there were couples, families, and even pets, but he had no clue who they were besides the names inscribed on the bottom of the gilded frames. As he continued through the portraits he had to stop and try to contain his emotions, he'd lost out on so much history, but he didn't want to lose more, and he was sure crying on the paintings wouldn't help them to last.

As he reached the second to last portrait Harry had to physically wipe his eyes before he revealed it, staring back at him were the faces of his grandparents, his grandfather smiled joyfully at the person painting with bespeckled blue eyes and a bushy mustache that reminded him of the westerns Vernon used to watch, aside from the small burn scar marrying his Grandfather's left jaw, and pale cheek Harry was sure he looked just like him.

His grandmother was the epitome of British Nobility, he was sure that if he put her portrait next to the queen's, no one would be able to tell which was royalty. She sat nearly straight up save for the fact she was leaning slightly to grasp his grandfather's arm, she was smiling just as brightly as his grandfather, the only difference being that her hair was black as opposed to brown, and her brown eyes weren't looking at the person painting the portrait, she still faced the painter, but her eyes were focused on his grandfather as she smiled.

Taking a final breath Harry pulled his grandparents' portrait back and revealed the final one, this time he couldn't help it, tears dripped from his eyes completely against his will splashing against the canvas silently. Harry didn't even try to halt his tears anymore, there was no point, the painting was ruined already, the gilded frame covered in soot and the canvas charred black, the only thing Harry could make out was the tail of a car sitting on a table next to a pair of legs.

Harry wasn't sure how long he stared at the blackened canvas but eventually, he was approached from behind by his manager who spoke softly. "Your parent's portrait was one of the gifts your grandmother gave them for their wedding, it was hanging in their living room on that night and the flames damaged it…I'm…I think that will be all from the vault today yes Mr. Potter?"

Harry took the goblin's offer thankfully as he mourned the loss of his parents, he couldn't even see their faces, he had no memory of them besides their names and it seemed every time he got closer to them, they were ripped away. As they walked silently through the tunnels Harry took the time to contain his emotions.

Eventually, Harry and his account manager made their way back to the office and the goblin began to list off the various properties and stocks he owned quite a bit. There were three houses dotted around Europe, one in a British suburb, one at Godric's Hollow, and one in France. Along with houses, there was Potter Manor which sat on a vast amount of land containing enough room for a stable and extensive flower garden.

As far as stocks go his grandfather had sold the Sleekeazy company shortly before he died, when it went public his father had bought most stock in the company also shortly before his death, his father wasn't happy with others profiting off Fleamont's name, image, and invention along with the greediness of the new owners his father felt he had to step in. Along with this, there were, of course, the various others that his grandmother had invested in while his grandfather made his potions, he owned stocks in bookstores, a few various businesses, and even a restaurant all of which had earned him quite a bit of money.

Harry had simply been nodding along until the final item was mentioned. "I own a vineyard?" Harry's question was answered with a nod and his manager explained that it was a gift his grandfather had bought for his grandmother because he knew she liked wine. It was a tension point between the two because his grandmother said he could have just bought a bottle and an entire vineyard was a waste.

"Eventually they reached a compromise, the vineyard would remain and would start producing and selling wine, so Euphemia had to keep the gift, and the land wasn't being wasted. Sadly, the war started shortly after and the first batch was never sold, along with this because there was no one to give directions or hire anyone the Vineyard is abandoned, although the land quality and facilities there the land is highly sought after."

Harry was more than interested in the business. "So, everything is there, all the equipment and buildings, everything we need?"

"Just about Mr. Potter, we would need to recruit some elves to plant and harvest the berries and hire someone to manage the business but essentially yes, the vineyard could be active within the month if you wish."

Harry smiled, there was no way in hell he'd sell that vineyard as far as he could see it was a gift and his mind was already reeling thinking of what he could use it for besides, it simply being a good business. "Do both please, with the manager don't skimp if you would please, I want this to be the best wine we can make."

Nodding, the goblin began preparing and soon enough Harry was being guided out to the foyer by an assistant leaving his manager behind to sort out the fine details and write up a report. Stepping out into the sunshine of Diagon Alley Harry breathed a sigh of relief, he felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, although his mind was tired from the influx of treasured information about his family and the emotions brought on.

AN: Bit long and wordy but I wanted to paint a picture of Harry's grandparents as they'll be more important eventually, and of course, it's been forever since I uploaded so y'all deserve a nice long chapter. I can't promise another one soon because of A: I'm sure my promise of chapters is worth dirt to y'all and for good reason, and B: College is crazy, the work isn't as hard as high school, for some reason, but there's way more of it.

All in all, it saddens me to say you'll get the next chapter when I can write it and I hope you guys enjoy it, I also hope the vault scene made you feel something.