chapter one: the golden gates of home {year 1: the summer, part one}
A golden light shines from around the city, spinning to envelope Harry in a golden cocoon, seemed to be made of hundreds of thousands of individual strands, each coming from a different person, all of them dropping instantly—
He drifts back….back...back..back back back backbackbackback—
And then he lurches to a stop.
Harry suddenly lurches to a stop, his vision coming back moments later. He sits in the middle of a smoldering forest, the trees bent outwards from his impact into the ground. He flicks his hand, casting the Tempus spell nonverbally and wandlessly.
Monday; July 1st, 1991
10:31 am
He hums and casts another spell, this one to tell him where he was, in relation to a point of his choosing. He selected Potter Manor, as he assumes his ten-year-old self would have disappeared from wherever he was in the past when he appeared, therefore it made sense for him to (eventually) be revealed as living in Potter Manor. He'd have to ask the Goblins for help, but they were always happy to help him, and he would have to change some memories, but overall his plan was sound..
"Point me, Potter Manor.." He murmured, picking up a twig from the forest floor. It spun around, and then pointed towards the old family manor. The only reason this spell would work was because he was of Potter family blood; otherwise, it would've gone haywire.
Despite what Dumbledore had told him, Harry knew that the manor hadn't been damaged during the war; it was nigh on impossible to get into a Pureblood's Ancestral Manor, as the building was coated in so many wards that the ambient magic felt like amber, or molasses. It was why an underage wizard could cast magic with a wand there—there was too much interference that the Ministry brushed it off as the ambient magic of the home.
It was approaching noon when Harry finally reached the gates of the manor. They appeared to be a shining gold color, watched over by two (stone) griffins, who were perched atop a steep wall. Instead of the gothic gate and fence of the Malfoy (or Black) manor, the Potter's had a white-washed stone wall, with cream-colored bricks. Ivy had grown on it's walls however, Harry did not climb it for fear that something would eat him. As he was contemplating how to get into the manor, one of the cream-colored stone griffins suddenly yawns, it's eagle-like head turning to the last Potter. It blinks, and spreads it's wings, leaping off of it's perch with it's strong leonine back legs.
A house elf appeared, her ocean blue eyes widening in shock. "M-Master?" She asked, her magic recognizing him as her master, because he is the last of the Potter's. She was wearing a dark crimson outfit, with the Potter family crest (a roaring griffon, with the words Sol ille arbitrium sempre ascendo adversus ille tenebræ under it) stitched in gold. "I is being Adara. Who is you?" The griffin flies back, and settles back to watching the golden gate.
Harry chuckles, and prepares to tell her his full name, "I am your new master, yes. My full name—with titles—is Heir Hadrian James Potter-Black-Peverell-Gryffindor-Slytherin. I have a few other titles, but they aren't really important." He feels a vaguely offended feeling from Ade, because he listed Master of Death as 'not really important.' 'Stuff it, you presumptuous git—I don't want to overwhelm the poor thing!' He gets a feeling of amusement, before they move away, focusing on something else.
Adara nodded, seemingly proud of having someone like him as her new master. "If Master bes following me, I will take you into the Manor."
Harry nods, opening the gate after allowing an Unlocking Charm to flow through his fingers. He pulls it open, noting how it doesn't creak as it opens. "I see that you've been taking care of the place." He notes, a pleased note entering his voice.
Adara nods. "I is the Head Elf's assistant. Normally the Lord commands the Head Elf, and I fall under the Heir's purview. But because you is the only Potter left, Chrysantha will be your personal elf." She looks at him, her eyes wide. "Should I calls the other elves? The Head elves, not all of them!" She hastens to say, blinking.
There are probably too many to call all at once. "Yes, Adara, that would be appreciated, thank you."
She nods. "I will bes doing that once I gets you to the Master study."
The house elf leads him through a maze of hallways, with Adara pointing out various rooms. The house seemed to be decorated in a mix of cherry wood and honey oak, with darker stones creating a stunning contrast. The rugs and walls weren't all Gryffindor colors (if they were, Harry thought he might riot); more often than not, they were neutral colors which added to the nice decor.
Overall, it was a nice Manor for a nice family.
When they reached the study, Adara pulled out the chair, and then popped off, leaving Harry alone. When he was trekking through the woods, he hadn't hadthe time to fully examine his body. He took a few moments to, after sitting in the chair. Based on his size, he seems to be this world's eleven-year-old Harry Potter, meaning that he could count his ribs, and had an alarming number of injuries.
One by one, a few house-elves popped in. There were 5, and they were all dressed in the same uniform as Adara. Harry smiled at Adara, who stood next to one of the elves, who looked older than the rest. "Hello. I am Heir Potter, and you may address me as Master Harry, or Master Hadrian, whichever you prefer. As the previous Lord Potter—my father, may magic carry him to the next life soon—passed away..9 years ago?" He shrugs, and glances at each of them. "I will be taking ownership of the household, even though I am young, you may have noticed that I am rather mature for my age. I would like you to each introduce yourself, and your job titles."
The oldest elf bows, and she announces herself. "I am known as Crysantha, master Hadrian. I am the Head Elf, and your personal elf."
Adara bows too. "I is known as Adara, master Harry! I am the Head Elf's assistant."
Another elf bows. "I am called Prasad, master Harry. I am the head of the cooks."
The fourth elf inclines his head. "I am Chika, master Hadrian. I am the head of the gardeners."
Finally, the last elf introduces herself. "And I am Reina, and I am the head of the rest of the household."
Harry inclines his head. "It is good to meet you all. I have all of you—and your elves—to thank for the amazing condition Potter manor is in I believe. I will be staying until I go to Hogwarts, and come back every summer. I will ask for you to also keep the manor in pristine condition, although I ask that if you see a giant pile of parchment on my desk, that you leave it alone." He claps. "Now, I would like to speak to Crysantha about some family matters, if you will."
The other elves pop out, and Adara lingers for a moment, before popping out. "What can I do for the young master?" She asks, and Harry sighs.
"I need the book on alliances and enemies, please. I also must go out sometime soon, and get both a custom wand and a new wardrobe, as well as a few other things. "Do you know a custom wand shop?" He asks, running a hand through his hair. He didn't like being disarmed; as his current Magical Guardian, Dumbledore could, in theory, Apparate through the wards, and take Harry away. He'd have to go to Gringotts too...
"Yes, master Hadrian. There is Sawyer and Carver Wands, Holsters, and Staffs, on Eaton Downs." She gives him a look. "It is not proper to get a wand from there before Ollivander's or your Hogwarts letter."
He groans inwardly, and stares at her. "I'll...let you in on a small secret. I don't care about propriety—my magical guardian left me with Mundan—Muggles, and they treated me worse than a house elf. But because he's my magical guardian, he can force me back there. I want to defend myself."
Crysantha hesitates, before nodding, "Yes, young master. I understand now."
"Alright, great. Before we do that... I need to go over the alliances and enemies." He grimaces as she pops off, only to come back with a tome as large as his arm and as thick as his head. He settles in for a long read, before remembering he needs parchment and a quill, to take notes. Harry turns to Crysantha, "I..you wouldn't happen to know where some parchment and some ink is, would you?"
She blinks at him, and opens the first drawer of the desk. He nods, and thanks her, and begins to take notes, his emerald eyes flicking over the page.
He groans again when he realizes just how small the writing is...
A few days later, after studying both the Potter's Book of Allies and Enemies and exploring his family manor, he was finally finished with reviewing everything. He'd taken Slytherin off the Enemies list—it was counterproductive; he was the Heir and would be the Lord of Slytherin, unless Tom regained his sanity, in which case he'd give it back—and discovered quite a few dormant marriage contracts, which he would stricken off. (Was stricken even a word? Harry didn't know, but it sounded good-)
He'd also contacted Death, and wrangled out the interesting tidbit that because he was Master of Death, he couldn't be considered underage, and technically had gotten his Majority. It was, apparently, similar to the Triwizard Tournament freeing him in his past life—but now he knew about it. Harry didn't tell this to Crysantha, so she wouldn't think it was 'improper,' getting a wand before his Hogwarts letter arrived.
Harry had also, after many hours of reading through several dozen books on flooing, managed to change the password to the floo. It was amazing, and it worked.
He flicked his hand, casting the Tempus charm.
Tuesday; July 9th, 1991
11:47 pm
"Chrysantha!" He calls, reclining in the cherry wood chair in the master study (at least, as much as he can). The house elf pops in after a moment, and she bows to Harry.
"Young master, what can I do for you?"
"I believe that I am finally ready to go get robes, and a wand. Perhaps some more books as well; basic ones.." Harry hums, and then blinks out of his thoughts. "Is there anywhere to eat lunch in Diagon?"
"Yes, master Hadrian. There is many restaurants on Eaival Corner, a side alley off of Diagon."
"Where would you recommend me for a casual lunch or dinner?" He asks, blinking. How many side alleys are there?
"Alvis' Barn, master Hadrian. It has better food than the Leaky Cauldron, and isn't a hub of pureblood supremacy."
Harry nods, and then holds his hand out. "Aging potion, please."
The house-elf eyes him with disdain, but hands him the aging potion, as per his request. It was an odd thing; the color was somewhere between red and yellow, but not quite orange, either. It smelled like mulled wine and fire whiskey, two of the prominent ingredients of this particular batch. Of course, vanilla and honey had been added, to cover the taste of the alcohol. It was..ingenious.
He drank it, grimacing when the fire whiskey still burned it's way down his throat anyways. He hated fire whiskey; he preferred sweeter a alcohol, if he had any at all. Of course, a good summerwine—made by house-elves—was his favorite, but it was difficult to get your hands on a house-elf brewer. Perhaps he should look into trainers..
As Harry was lost in thought, his body changed, growing taller. He now had a rough—but sharp—jawline, with emerald eyes gleaming from behind the curtain of raven-colored hair. His scar was hidden, he noticed as he looked into the mirror beside his desk, he could bring himself to be thankful for it. Now he wouldn't have a crowd of gawkers.
Today wasn't the first official debut of the Boy-Who-Lived, but his guardian, a long-lost Potter. His name in public was Halcyone Saul Reeves. This persona would unravel soon, but for now it was important. Today in Gringotts he would be talking to the goblins about faking paperwork; they'd be happy to comply, as he was Death's Childe—he was Death walking on Earth, essentially. Ade sent an echo of amusement, pointing out his eyes were silver, not green.
Harry ignored him.
"Remember, in public, for now at least, I am master Halcyone. Speak to no one. Tell no one anything."
Crysantha bows. "I will do as master says."
Harry nods, and sighs. He couldn't do a glamor currently, it was delicate magic. He needs a wand. "Take me to Gringotts, Crysantha." He commanded, and felt her delicate hand on his, before they were whisked away.
They reappeared on the marble steps of the bank. Halcyone—Harry—didn't pause to read the inscription on the doors as he strode into the bank confidently. Before he took the aging potion, he wore slightly oversized robes, and they fit him well enough, for now at least. He walked up to the goblin on the podium, which had a chair that looked suspiciously like a throne behind it. He bowed to the goblin. "May your enemies quiver beneath your axe."
Ragnok smiles knowingly, but bows. "And may your enemies' blood run like a river. I presume you are here for our appointment."
Harry inclines his head, a small smile dancing on his lips before he replaces it with a carefully black expression, locking emotions away behind an Occlumency shield, "Indeed."
The Head Goblin stands, and walks towards the back of the bank. He opens the door to his office, and Harry steps inside, his persona melting away like ice in the summer. "Thank you for agreeing to meet me, Ragnok. I know it may be a bit unorthodox." The 653-year-old sits down in the chair facing the King of the Goblin Nation, "However, I would like to perform an Inheritance test, so you may see my words are as true as the gold I have."
Ragnok nods, "That would be best, Heir Potter." He rummages through his desk drawer for a few minutes, and then pulls out a sharp-looking dagger, a roll of parchment, and a quill and ink. Harry raises an eyebrow at the quill and ink, "In case I need to send out special orders." The goblin explains, and then gestures towards the dagger. "Go on, Heir Potter."
He shrugs, grabbing the dagger, and pricks his finger, wincing, "Three drops?" He asks, carefully keeping his blood off the parchment.
"Seven drops."
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Harry squeezes his finger a bit, careful. Six. Seven.
The parchment lights up with red light, and his blood is absorbed. Soon enough, the parchment begins to write.
Birth name: Hadrian James Potter
Birth date: July 31st, 1980
Body Age: 10
Changed name: N/A
Personas: Halcyone Saul Reeves, Boy-Who-Lived
Harry raises an eyebrow at that. It listed his personas as well? That was very odd; maybe that was the difference between three drops and seven drops of blood? Perhaps there were other differences as well.
Father of body: James Fleamont Potter
Mother of body: Lilian Alexandria Potter neé Evans
Father of soul-shard: Tom Abel Riddle, Snr.
Mother of soul-shard: Merope Medusa Riddle neé Gaunt
Father of main soul: u̷̧̯̠͈̜̥̖͔̹̍̉̅̊́͋̔̅͝ṉ̵̩͕͑̂̋͒̑̚k̴̡̛̦̖͓͕̻̈́͂̎̃̔̓ņ̶̢̗̮̭̼̣̎ǫ̷̟̰͎̋ẁ̴̼͚̟̑̐̈̀̈́̕͠n̷̗̳̜̤̫̉̇̈́̆̓
Mother of main soul: none
Ade hums, in the back of his mind, like the touch of snow, or silk. 'Well well, it looks like Gringotts can't list the names of cosmic deities.' They sound rather smug, making Harry raise his head. 'Continue reading; you'll figure it out eventually.' He sighs, sending back a small message, 'Yes, well, thank you for giving me my soul. I know where I got my smugness from.'
Current Lordships: None
Available Lordships: Lord Potter, Lord Black, Lord Peverell, Lord Gryffindor, Lord Slytherin (right of conquest), Lord Hufflepuff. All can be accessed at 17. Emancipated, can claim Lord Potter and Lord Black. Lord Peverell, Lord Gryffindor, Lord Slytherin, and Lord Hufflepuff must wait until Hadrian is 17 years of age
Available Heirships: Heir Potter, Heir Black, Heir Peverell, Heir Gryffindor, Heir Slytherin (right of conquest), Heir Hufflepuff. Heirships may be given at 11, or onwards.
Titles: Master of Death, Magic's Chosen Champion, Time Runner, Boy-Who-Lived (Wizard-given title), He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's Killer (Wizard-given title), the Chosen One (Wizard-given title), Goblin friend (Goblin-given title), Avalon's finder (Magic-given title), Pack Friend (Werewolf-given title; assigned by the council of elders)
Vaults owned: 687 (Hadrian James Potter's trust fund), 632 (Potter Family Vault), 342 (Black Family Vault), 122 (Peverell Family Vault), 114 (Gryffindor Family Vault), 113 (Hufflepuff Family Vault), 110 (Slytherin Family Vault), 2 (Necromancer's Vault), 1 (Master of Death Vault)
Number of galleons in all vaults: 14,679,654,014
Properties owned (total): 43
Magic core size: Gargantuan
Magic affinity: Neutral-Dark
Magical gifts: Born Necromancer, Beast Tamer, Magic's Chosen Champion, Immortal, Parseltongue
Blocks, Compulsions, and Potions:
Blocked Parseltoungue, cast by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore [Cast 1981, recast every year]
Blocked Occlumency, cast by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore [Cast 1981, never recast]
Blocked Legilimency, cast by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore [Cast 1981, never recast]
Dark magic block, cast by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore [Cast 1981, never recast]
Blocked Necromantic powers, cast by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore [Cast 1981, never recast]
Blocked Inheritance, blocked by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore [Cast 1981, never unblocked]
Loyalty potion, administered by Petunia Elanor Dursley neé Evans, brewed by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, keyed to Albus Percival Wulfric Dumbledore
Love potion, administered by Petunia Elanor Dursley neé Evans, brewed by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dubbledore, keyed to Ginevra Molly Weasley (amoreffundi)
Never question the Light compulsions, spelled by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
All have been broken by u̷̧̯̠͈̜̥̖͔̹̍̉̅̊́͋̔̅͝ṉ̵̩͕͑̂̋͒̑̚k̴̡̛̦̖͓͕̻̈́͂̎̃̔̓ņ̶̢̗̮̭̼̣̎ǫ̷̟̰͎̋ẁ̴̼͚̟̑̐̈̀̈́̕͠n̷̗̳̜̤̫̉̇̈́̆̓.
Harry hummed. "I was drugged and compelled up to the gills." He said, his eyes sliding down the rest of the parchment. It was mainly just his family tree, 7 generations back. He handed it to Ragnok, for the goblin to look over.
It took a few minutes, but eventually the goblin twitched, and looked up at Harry, resigned. "I don't suppose you have your key?" He asked, resigned, making the other laugh.
"No, I don't. The normal 5 galleons for each key that I lost? And also a guarantee that the keys that were issued before don't work.."
Ragnok nods. "Of course." The goblin seems offended that Harry would assume otherwise, "In addition, we've come up with a way to link bags to vaults, and for them to only draw coins from said vaults. It's one-way, and only accessible by the person who owns the vaults. There can be separate bags for each vault, or one big bag for all of the vaults."
"I'd like one bag for the Potter trust fund, and one bigger bag with all the vault—minus the trust fund—attached."
Ragnok nods, writing on a piece of parchment. It folds itself into a coin, and then zooms off. "While we are waiting for that, would you like to unseal your parents' wills?"
"Not yet."
"Of course." Ragnok looked briefly puzzled, but schools his face back to business, and nods. "What about retrieving any items while you're here? We can mail them, but it will be for a fee."
"I'll take the fee, as otherwise my persona may be blown too soon."
A knock sounded at the door, and Ragnok smiles, a fierce smile. Harry straightens into his persona, turning to look coldly at whoever entered. "Come in, Bloodtoe." A shorter, smaller, younger goblin comes in, two bags in his hands. "Leave them there." Ragnok pointed in front of Halcyone, and the goblin places them there. "Good. Leave us." He pauses to allow him to exit, and Halcyone feels the privacy wards spring back. "Last piece of business from the bank to you..do you want to take up any of your Heirships? You can take the Black and Potter Lordships, but none of the others. You can get your other Heirships in order, however, for now.."
"Potter Heirship only for now, please. Having a Lordship ring would raise some uncomfortable questions."
Ragnok nods, and stands. He walks to a cubby in the wall, and does something—from his vantage point, Harry can't quite see what he's doing—
—and then the goblin sits down again, holding a dark red box. He hands it to the Potter Heir, who opens it eagerly. Inside of the box is a delicate-looking ring, with two golden bands that curl snugly around a large circular ruby. Set into the gold bands is what seems to be dozens of tiny diamonds, making it gleam as the (albeit limited) light shines through each cut gem. The only place left untouched by diamonds on the bands is a small place below the ruby, in which rests the Potter family motto: Sol ille arbitrium semper ascendo adversus ille tenebræ—The sun will always rise against the Darkness. Behind the ruby, inscribed in the silvery-gold of the ring lays the Potter crest—two griffins, rearing up, with silver inlining them. Harry slides it onto his right ring finger, and a warm, almost golden feeling wraps him up. He smiles, and Ragnok nods. "Magic accepts your claim on his house's Heirship. Now, is there any business that you have with the bank?"
Harry takes a few more moments, basking in the family's magic. He blinks out of it, after realizing that Ragnok said something. "Y..yes, I do." He shakes his head, getting rid of the amber-like magic coating his every thought, slowing him and his reactions considerably. "I'd like for you to take 1,000 galleons out of each of my vaults, and invest them wisely." He squints, trying to remember anything that might be worth investing in. "Maybe invest in the people who are going to make Firebolts?"
Ragnok nods, scribbling that down on a piece of parchment. "Any other specific requests?" He asks, his onyx eyes glittering into Harry's very soul.
"No, I believe that you know best for our investments. After all, you only want to increase gold, not decrease it."
At his statement, the goblin grinned, sharklike. "Indeed. Currently, this Gringotts is only the second-most valuable, but we'll beat the American branch eventually."
Harry nods. "I believe that's all, correct?"
Ragnok nods. "Yes. Now, to activate the bags, allow your blood to drip on this sliver seal.."
Halcyone walks out of Gringotts, knowing that whispers are following him. He adjusts his robes, sharp green eyes scanning the crowd around him. "Chrysantha," He calls, softly, and the elf pops in. "Take me to Twilfitt and Tattings, but lead me there, like I know where I'm going," He adds, and the House Elf nods. She leads him through Diagon, towards the South Side of the Alley. They stop in front of an ornate-looking building, built from red brick, and singled with black. A sign swings in the wind, and Halcyone is ushered inside by his house elf.
Inside is a larger area than Harry would've thought possible. There's a huge hallway, with dozens of doors leading to different individualized rooms. At the end of the hallway seems to be a wide open space, filled with different cuts of robes, and, from Harry's vantage point, fabrics. Chrysantha pops off as an older woman comes in.
Her hair is still mostly brown, but gray is beginning to appear, streaking through. Her hair is twisted back into a bun, oddly resemblant of McGonagall, and she has brown eyes, with specks of gold scattered through like embers. "I am Madame Fontaine, and I will be your seamstress for the afternoon." Her voice has an accent that takes Halcyone a moment to place, before he realizes that it's French.
"It is good to meet you, Madame Fontaine," He says, sweeping his hand up into a kiss on the back of it, "Énchante," he murmurs, a smile on his face.
She twitches her mouth into a small smile, before ushering him to a room. As he looks on the plaque on the door, it says Complete wardrobe overhaul. He looks around the room, and with dawning horror, realizes that he might be here for hours..better make that lunch a dinner.
In the end, clothes shopping took three hours, as they went through the many different cuts for robes, and colors, and that was after he got measured in everything. He was assured silence, that they would be mailed later that week, then was ushered out.
Chrysantha pops in, and smiles at him. "Is master Halcyone ready for the final business of the day?"
He nods. "Take me to them, please." She nods, and grabs his finger, popping off.
When they reappear, they're standing in front of a dark brick building. A dark wooden sign above the door proclaims it to be Sawyer and Carvers, just as Crysantha said. She bows. "Call me when you are finished, master. It is improper for elves and other people to be in the room when you choose materials for your wand." And she pops off, leaving Harry standing alone in front of the shop. No one else was around, making him slightly nervous.
He looks in the windows, and sees dozens of types of wands, made from what seems to be hundreds of different woods. A small sign is in the corner of the window, and Harry leans closer to investigate it.
Wand woods!
Acacia to Yew!
Wand cores!
Phoenix feathers, unicorn hairs, dragon heartstrings!
From boggart skin to Veela hair!
Staffs, dragonhide holsters, and so much more!
He takes a deep breath and steps inside.
early update for you guys! i'll try to keep to updating every friday from now onwards, so expect an update next friday or so.