As Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the shop a small person dressed in baggy
clothing and carrying a scent of strong tobacco ran into them, literally.
As Harry got up, massaging his ribs, the small figure spoke.
"Mr. Potter, you are needed at Gringotts bank, now!"
The man had a high-pitched, whining voice that made the back of Harry's neck prickle a bit; the voice reminded him uncannily of his ex-professor, Dolores Umbridge, who had been attacked at the end of last term by centaurs, though Harry felt no sympathy to her; she had tyrannized Hogwarts until she tried attacking Harry, was delayed by a few well-placed lines from Hermione, and had been led into the Forbidden Forest and attacked.
"Come on!" said the small man again in his high-pitched, girlish voice.
He led them out into the sunlight and they followed him all the way down to the other side of Diagon Alley, where the tall, lopsided, white building of Gringotts Bank came into view. The short man led them past the double doors of Gringotts, which was flanked by two goblins in bright red uniforms, and into the main hall, where there were tables and tables with seated goblins writing in thick books or talking to customers.
There were also many doors emblazoned with the Gringotts coat of arms, a galleon over a pair of shaking hands, and the man led them through one the very first ones, which looked much older than the later ones, the stone already darkening, and the marble had several cracks in it already.
Harry had been to Gringotts before and he knew that through the doors led a cart that would take them wherever they were going to, so when the door opened up into a large cavern, Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise and the man must have seen, because he said, "We're now in the biggest vault room in the world. The oldest and richest families have their family keeps in here.
"Over here are the oldest families, like the Malfoys, though since Mr. Malfoy has been imprisoned for being a Death Eater, there is some word circulating that the vault will be removed.
"Here are a few more old ones. This one here is actually Dumbledore's private one, the richest collection of money and treasures valued at more than I can tell you three, but it's nearly impossible to steal from it; Dumbledore himself put charms on that door in addition to the Gringotts charms and guards.
"And . . . aah, here we are — the vault of the Black family. I believe your godfather left a will for you, but since you are not allowed legally into his vault I will get it for you."
The short man took out an unusually long and thin key and tapped the wall that they were standing next to three times in different spots and suddenly with a long claxon-like sound an iron door appeared. The man took the key and inserted into the keyhole and pushed. Harry got a glimpse of what looked like a small mountain of gold, with bright jewels sparkling every few feet, before the man stepped into the vault and closed the door halfway.
He returned a few minutes later with a chink of gold that had been smoothed almost paper-thin, and Harry spotted some writing on it. The short man cleared his throat officiously and read,
This is the final will of Sirius Maximillian Black in accordance with the Black family and the Ministry of Magic Law Enforcement Squad, written twelve August, 1980 with Sirius Black and Lawyer Thwaites Ossocrates.
In event that the war carries on longer, and I, Sirius M. Black is killed or die, I leave all my possessions with my friend James Potter and his wife, Lilly of Godric's Hollow Manor. This includes all the money in this vault, my personal vault, number seven two four, which currently adds up to the total sum of 198,465,198 Galleons and some odd Sickles, not including interest rates from the bank of 8.3 percent a year.
Also included in this document is the Black Estate at number twelve Grimmuald Place, which will belong to me after the first of January, 1982. This house includes all the grounds around it, and also will turn over with the house-elf, Kreacher, and the portraits, furniture, and other accessories that are found within it.
"It appears that he included a post-script just three months ago," said the man reading it, and clearing his throat again, he sheafed through a few more scrolls of parchment. "Read it yourself,"
Harry,
Nothing made me happier after your parents' death than seeing you come here to me, alive and well. It was almost like having my best friend back again when I set sight on you for the first time. You have matured more than even you know it, and, if I might say, you are so like James that when you left me after Christmas I was heartbroken. But enough of this — I want to change my original will to this.
I know your best friends well now, after having them the whole summer, and I also know that they fancy each other (even if they don't know it). I am leaving them 500,000 Galleons to split. I own a large cottage near, actually, the Burrow, and I am giving it to them. I also know, however, how James felt about his friends, Harry, and I know that you feel the same about them — that they deserve more than that from their own friends, and therefore I am also going to give them part of your portion if you agree to it.
Your portion is this: The rest of my money, and number twelve Grimmuald Place, with all its accessories mentioned in the original context, and I hope you will give it to Kreacher nicely when I am gone, but don't mention this to Hermione, of course. She and Ron will have the top floor, which includes two bedrooms and another master bedroom, a bathroom, and several fireplaces. The whole floor is fully furnished, of course.
Of course, Harry, like James, if you had all this now you would explode from all the possibilities now opened to you, so — I'm not giving it to you until you are seventeen, but Dumbledore wishes you to read it 'a bit' after I die, no matter what age you are. The same goes for Ron and Hermione.
Also, your parents left a will for you, but they specifically instructed me when you were born to show it to you at your seventeenth birthday. If you are reading this it means I am no longer here to enforce this, but please, Harry, obey their wish. The bank account you have, by the way, is not even a percent of your family's true fortune.
I also want to give a present to Ron's brothers, Fred and George, for their joke shop, and I therefore am leaving them 250,000 Galleons, which should be enough, I reckon. I am not the best in maths, but I would say that leaves you with now about two hundred million odd Galleons, give or take a couple hundred thousand.
Sirius
PS. Harry, you'll be a multimillionaire, and I have a last wish. No, not a wish. You're going to get a good job and keep at it — I'm not going to be responsible for ruining James Potter's son and turning him into some spoiled brat. Keep it in mind.
As Harry finished reading, he felt a sudden ache in his heart, as though wishing that he had not read this, and Sirius was here now with him. As he felt his eyes grow watery, his new training suddenly kicked in and he mastered himself not to cry. Instead, he beckoned with his head at Ron and Hermione, and they followed him out of earshot of the short man.
"I just want to say to you both that Sirius left money for you two, too. He left for you also the top floor of Grimmuald Place, and the rest for me — but I don't want it. I-I . . . I just can't take it. . . ."
"You have to, Harry," said Hermione immediately, pity literally streaming from her brown eyes. "You must listen to Sirius; he wouldn't want you not to listen to him. . . ."
Harry nodded several times and tried to smile; a crooked twist in his jaw was all that came out, and Hermione's eyes looked as if on the verge of crying.
* * *
"Mr. Potter, you are needed at Gringotts bank, now!"
The man had a high-pitched, whining voice that made the back of Harry's neck prickle a bit; the voice reminded him uncannily of his ex-professor, Dolores Umbridge, who had been attacked at the end of last term by centaurs, though Harry felt no sympathy to her; she had tyrannized Hogwarts until she tried attacking Harry, was delayed by a few well-placed lines from Hermione, and had been led into the Forbidden Forest and attacked.
"Come on!" said the small man again in his high-pitched, girlish voice.
He led them out into the sunlight and they followed him all the way down to the other side of Diagon Alley, where the tall, lopsided, white building of Gringotts Bank came into view. The short man led them past the double doors of Gringotts, which was flanked by two goblins in bright red uniforms, and into the main hall, where there were tables and tables with seated goblins writing in thick books or talking to customers.
There were also many doors emblazoned with the Gringotts coat of arms, a galleon over a pair of shaking hands, and the man led them through one the very first ones, which looked much older than the later ones, the stone already darkening, and the marble had several cracks in it already.
Harry had been to Gringotts before and he knew that through the doors led a cart that would take them wherever they were going to, so when the door opened up into a large cavern, Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise and the man must have seen, because he said, "We're now in the biggest vault room in the world. The oldest and richest families have their family keeps in here.
"Over here are the oldest families, like the Malfoys, though since Mr. Malfoy has been imprisoned for being a Death Eater, there is some word circulating that the vault will be removed.
"Here are a few more old ones. This one here is actually Dumbledore's private one, the richest collection of money and treasures valued at more than I can tell you three, but it's nearly impossible to steal from it; Dumbledore himself put charms on that door in addition to the Gringotts charms and guards.
"And . . . aah, here we are — the vault of the Black family. I believe your godfather left a will for you, but since you are not allowed legally into his vault I will get it for you."
The short man took out an unusually long and thin key and tapped the wall that they were standing next to three times in different spots and suddenly with a long claxon-like sound an iron door appeared. The man took the key and inserted into the keyhole and pushed. Harry got a glimpse of what looked like a small mountain of gold, with bright jewels sparkling every few feet, before the man stepped into the vault and closed the door halfway.
He returned a few minutes later with a chink of gold that had been smoothed almost paper-thin, and Harry spotted some writing on it. The short man cleared his throat officiously and read,
This is the final will of Sirius Maximillian Black in accordance with the Black family and the Ministry of Magic Law Enforcement Squad, written twelve August, 1980 with Sirius Black and Lawyer Thwaites Ossocrates.
In event that the war carries on longer, and I, Sirius M. Black is killed or die, I leave all my possessions with my friend James Potter and his wife, Lilly of Godric's Hollow Manor. This includes all the money in this vault, my personal vault, number seven two four, which currently adds up to the total sum of 198,465,198 Galleons and some odd Sickles, not including interest rates from the bank of 8.3 percent a year.
Also included in this document is the Black Estate at number twelve Grimmuald Place, which will belong to me after the first of January, 1982. This house includes all the grounds around it, and also will turn over with the house-elf, Kreacher, and the portraits, furniture, and other accessories that are found within it.
"It appears that he included a post-script just three months ago," said the man reading it, and clearing his throat again, he sheafed through a few more scrolls of parchment. "Read it yourself,"
Harry,
Nothing made me happier after your parents' death than seeing you come here to me, alive and well. It was almost like having my best friend back again when I set sight on you for the first time. You have matured more than even you know it, and, if I might say, you are so like James that when you left me after Christmas I was heartbroken. But enough of this — I want to change my original will to this.
I know your best friends well now, after having them the whole summer, and I also know that they fancy each other (even if they don't know it). I am leaving them 500,000 Galleons to split. I own a large cottage near, actually, the Burrow, and I am giving it to them. I also know, however, how James felt about his friends, Harry, and I know that you feel the same about them — that they deserve more than that from their own friends, and therefore I am also going to give them part of your portion if you agree to it.
Your portion is this: The rest of my money, and number twelve Grimmuald Place, with all its accessories mentioned in the original context, and I hope you will give it to Kreacher nicely when I am gone, but don't mention this to Hermione, of course. She and Ron will have the top floor, which includes two bedrooms and another master bedroom, a bathroom, and several fireplaces. The whole floor is fully furnished, of course.
Of course, Harry, like James, if you had all this now you would explode from all the possibilities now opened to you, so — I'm not giving it to you until you are seventeen, but Dumbledore wishes you to read it 'a bit' after I die, no matter what age you are. The same goes for Ron and Hermione.
Also, your parents left a will for you, but they specifically instructed me when you were born to show it to you at your seventeenth birthday. If you are reading this it means I am no longer here to enforce this, but please, Harry, obey their wish. The bank account you have, by the way, is not even a percent of your family's true fortune.
I also want to give a present to Ron's brothers, Fred and George, for their joke shop, and I therefore am leaving them 250,000 Galleons, which should be enough, I reckon. I am not the best in maths, but I would say that leaves you with now about two hundred million odd Galleons, give or take a couple hundred thousand.
Sirius
PS. Harry, you'll be a multimillionaire, and I have a last wish. No, not a wish. You're going to get a good job and keep at it — I'm not going to be responsible for ruining James Potter's son and turning him into some spoiled brat. Keep it in mind.
As Harry finished reading, he felt a sudden ache in his heart, as though wishing that he had not read this, and Sirius was here now with him. As he felt his eyes grow watery, his new training suddenly kicked in and he mastered himself not to cry. Instead, he beckoned with his head at Ron and Hermione, and they followed him out of earshot of the short man.
"I just want to say to you both that Sirius left money for you two, too. He left for you also the top floor of Grimmuald Place, and the rest for me — but I don't want it. I-I . . . I just can't take it. . . ."
"You have to, Harry," said Hermione immediately, pity literally streaming from her brown eyes. "You must listen to Sirius; he wouldn't want you not to listen to him. . . ."
Harry nodded several times and tried to smile; a crooked twist in his jaw was all that came out, and Hermione's eyes looked as if on the verge of crying.
* * *