Disclaimer: All characters and such are owned by J.R. Rowling, and I'm not making money on my little tribute to the wonderful world she created
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Chapter 3
The Will of the Most Noble House of Black
It was 6:30 in the morning when Griphook parted. With a promise to arrive early Thursday to work the reading of Sirius' will, and a warning not to let on to anyone what he now knew, he took his leave. Harry removed his robe, settled back into bed and fell asleep immediately.
Harry woke near noon totally refreshed. He pondered over everything Griphook told him during the night, feeling his emotions swing from elation to rage. He sincerely hoped Dumbledore wouldn't be showing up anytime soon – he didn't think he could hide his new found knowledge from him. Obviously the ancient wizard was not a friend, but he didn't want him as an enemy either.
The week flew by with the buoyancy of a better attitude. Harry still missed Sirius deeply, but he no longer blamed himself for his death. With the realization that Dumbledore was acting in selfish interests and not Harry's, things that happened in the past five years started making more sense in a sinister way. Although still devoting several hours a day to homework, Harry started keeping a muggle notebook of memories and observations:
Year One HogwartsWhy did D leave me with the Dursleys?
To make me see him as savior/dependant on him?
To keep me magically weak?
To keep me from my finances?
Why did the Ministry not punish me for prior magic to year one? Or even contact me?
Why no visits or owls from anyone during my childhood
To keep me clueless and weak?
How did D get my father's cloak?
Why does D let Snape be so cruel and unfair to me (and others?)
How can D allow such bad teachers in Hogwarts?
Snape
Trelawney
Binns
Filch
Quirrell/Voldemort
Hagrid (sorry, my friend!)
Why did no one at Hogwarts realize I was starved and beaten?
Year Two HogwartsD knew Riddle was the heir – why did he not tell everyone?
D is a master occ/len – he KNEW I could hear the basilisk in the walls
Why did he not warn the students or teachers?
He allowed it to happen both times!
Could D hate muggles and mixed bloods?
D let the whole school think I was the heir
D hired Lockhart knowing he couldn't teach us anything
Why didn't D panic when there was no word from me all summer?
Year Three HogwartsD HAD to know Sirius was innocent – why did he leave him in jail?
D HAD to know the dementors were targeting me – why did he not protect me?
D has to know the secret passages – why didn't D block them?
Year Four HogwartsD must of known Moody/Crouch was fake
Why didn't he disqualify me? How can it be a legally binding contract if I didn't enter?
How could he allow the Daily Prophet to attack me and my friends?
Year Five HogwartsWhy did he continue to keep Mrs. Figg a secret?
Why did he trust Fletcher?
Why did he keep Sirius locked up?
The notebook was Harry's proof, organizing his thoughts, showing him how fake Dumbledore was. Who was the real Albus? And most importantly, what were his plans for Harry?
Thursday dawned bright and clear. Harry showered and ate before the Dursleys woke. The will reading was to be at 11, and Griphook would be arriving at 10. He paced the floor nervously, wondering what it would be like to see the world from inside a painting. Would he feel squashed flat? Would he feel anything? Would anyone notice him? Harry assumed Tonks would be at the reading of the will, but what about the Malfoys? He shuddered in disgust.
Griphook arrived promptly at 10, apparating silently into Harry's bedroom. With a feral grin, he swiftly enchanted the door, windows, walls, floor and ceiling. Nodding at Harry he smiled and said, "We have silence to work in now. I also took the liberty of warding the door so you will not be disturbed by your relatives while the reading is going on."
Harry sat on his bed while Griphook conjured a comfortable chair to sit in. He looked at Harry and asked "Do you have any questions before we start?"
"Well yes!" said Harry in a hurry. "What will it feel like? Can anyone see me? Will Dumbledore interrupt? How do we end it? Is there any chance I can get stuck in the painting?" Harry's eyes were wide with excitement.
Griphook eyed him with an expression that must have been amusement. It was hard to read him. "Mr. Potter, you will lie on your bed when ready. I will put you to sleep and when you wake, you will be in the painting, toward the rear of seven wizards. There will be no pain or discomfort, but yes, you will be able to feel, so don't start a fight with them. They are use to having company, so do not worry. Mr. Dumbledore has been denied admittance to the reading, and is quite put out over it, but cannot come uninvited. As far as I am aware, he doesn't know it's today. When the reading is over, all you have to do is leave through the red door in the back of the painting – you will wake up here. That way you can leave anytime, and will not be "stuck", as you put it, if I should die while sitting here."
"Sounds great but please don't die," Harry grinned, bouncing up and down like a chipmunk on espresso, "I'm ready when you are". He made himself comfortable on his bed, folded his hands over his stomach in what he hoped looked casual and relaxed, and took a deep breath. Griphook stood and leaned over him, smiled a closed-mouth smile that for once didn't show many sharp teeth, and gently touched Harry's forehead with one long, graceful finger.
"I wonder when something is going to happen" Harry thought to himself, eyes closed in anticipation. "How long will it take me to fall asleep?" He was surprised to feel what he assumed to be Griphook brush against his arm, and opened his eyes. To Harry's astonishment, he wasn't in bed anymore, but standing in a room with seven other wizards and witches. They were milling around, looking at Harry with amusement.
"We wondered when you were going to open your eyes, young sir!" A kindly looking elderly witch said to him.
Harry stared around him in amazement. He was in a room about 12 foot square. In back of him was the red door that he assumed was his way back to reality, and the walls to his left and right had varnished oak doors. The furniture in the room was sparse and rustic, and as the occupants were wearing robes, it was impossible to choose a time period the painting was done in. The strangest thing about the room was the huge window taking up the wall in front of him. The people kindly moved aside for Harry as he walked up to it to gawk. It was a window – he reached out to touch it and was surprised to see it was flexible and clear ("it must be the varnish on the paint!" he thought to himself), and it looked into a conference room where one huge goblin with a head the size of a car, wearing a look of what Harry now recognized to be amusement, looked back at him. The size caught Harry by surprise, until he realized that paintings were rarely life sized, and he now existed in a smaller scale.
"Is everything all right, Mr. Potter?" the goblin asked portrait-Harry. "Can you hear me and see everything clearly?"
"Yes sir," gulped Harry. This was up there with other firsts in his life.
"First time in a painting, my dear?" asked another witch gently. Harry nodded and she beamed at him. "We don't get many young visitors! Tell us a little about yourself!"
Harry spent the next half hour or so very pleasantly, getting to know the seven beings of the painting. The painting was of a reunion of wizard accountants from 300 years ago (give or take). They commissioned the painting specifically to be used for Gringotts, finding it amusing to help the bank they had all admired. He learned that paintings are not full copies of a person – how much of the personality of the person was in the painting depended upon the magic and talent of the painter, and the purpose it was to be used for. These wizards and witches were basically recordings of the people who lived centuries before at the time they were painted – they could learn and grow with the times up to a point, but new facts would fade from their memories very quickly.
The seven kindly briefed Harry on how to remain inconspicuous in back of them, and how not to call attention to him self. They gave him a witch's hat and wig to wear, so if anyone was looking, they certainly would not identify the 4" high blond witch as Harry Potter. And at that, the door to the conference room opened, and the hopeful and mourning benefactors of Sirius Black filed into the room.
Everyone in the painting craned their heads to see who was entering, and Harry got the impression they weren't curious so much, as wanting to make it possible for Harry to do so without standing out. He smiled gratefully and watched as Remus, Tonks, Narcissa & Draco Malfoy, Hermione, Mr. And Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Fred, and George came into the room. They milled around the large table in the center of the room, and sat down. Nobody gave more than a casual disinterested glance at the painting Harry watched from. It took everything he had not to wave at everyone – he could just hear the twins now "Neat! How'd you get there? Can we make one for the shop?"
Harry looked at the people around the table. Mrs. Malfoy held herself with the same formal stiffness as she had at the Quiddich World Cup, her expression always a split-second from a sneer. Draco slumped in his chair looking totally bored, rebellious and indifferent. Remus was more down than usual, with Tonks patting his arm and looking miserable. Hermione was glancing to the door frequently, and he distinctly heard her ask Ron if he knew if Harry was coming, who shrugged and looked almost as apathetic as Draco. Harry was pleased to see Hermione and Mrs. Weasley dabbing at their eyes with handkerchiefs and Mr. Weasley and the twins with appropriate sorrowful and serious expressions. But it was Ron who really shocked Harry. Ron wasn't wearing the expression of a person in mourning. He looked jealous, and seething with barely contained anger. He kept glancing around the room, tapping his fingers on the table impatiently. Harry made a mental note to keep a guard on what he said to Ron in the future, and felt his heart break just a bit with knowing his first real friend might not be much of a friend at all.
Soon the door opened again, and Harry could see the disappointment on Hermione's face as the same goblin who asked him how he was doing entered the room carrying what appeared to be a large portrait draped with a black cloth, which he placed against the wall opposite Harry's painting, on an easel. Harry gasped – he couldn't help himself – but was relieved to note that enough people in the room had made noise too, and nobody heard his reaction. He knew who had to be under that cloth, and it was going to hurt to see and hear him again.
The goblin cleared his throat and waited for everyone to quiet. Standing next to the covered painting, he began, "Welcome everyone, to the last will and testament reading of Mr. Sirius Black. Recent events have transpired that cleared Mr. Black's name of any crimes he was accused of, and makes the closure of his accounts possible. On that note, may I present to you, Mr. Sirius Black." And with that, he pulled off the cloth to reveal a full length portrait of Sirius, painted sometime recently if hair length was any clue.
Sirius grinned broadly and looked around the room. "At last!" he chortled, "what's the point of paying for an expensive painting if you can't even use it? So, as you all know, I snuffed it. It was a dirty deal – Sharpclaw here has kept me up to date with the details since I awoke. Don't worry, Bella, may she rot soon, was disinherited before I bought the farm."
Harry felt the hot tears pouring down his face. He only had eyes for Sirius, drinking him in. It was so unfair that he seemed so alive, so, so himself, and yet Harry knew that he was merely a clever recording – an interactive doll. One of the witches standing next to him gently squeezed his hand, and he smiled appreciatively, never taking his eyes off his godfather's image.
Sirius looked around the room sharply. "Where's Harry?" he demanded.
Sharpclaw bowed to the painting. "Mr. Potter will have to be addressed at a later point in time. We are attempting to make arrangements."
"Did Dumbledore have something to do with it?" growled Sirius, glaring darkly.
"We will speak after the reading, Mr. Black. Rest assured, when a goblin says they are working on it, it is indeed being worked on." Sharpclaw clasped his hands together and stood at attention next to the portrait.
"Ok, well on to business. When his reading is done, I will be given to Harry, who will hopefully give any of you access to me that wishes. Keep in mind, I'm only a painting, and not the real deal. The real me is hopefully in paradise and not coming back. I have all the memories of Sirius up through the day before we died, but my responses are my own, not his, and only based on how he probably would have answered. Try not to mourn for me too much."
Sirius turned toward where Narcissa was sitting, and Draco sat straight in his seat. "Hello, Narcissa. I'm really disappointed in your choice of husbands you know. His activities in the Death Eaters are well known, as is his bullying and heavy handed ways in the Ministry." Narcissa's back grew visibly stiffer, and she gave Sirius a dirty look. "You were my favorite cousin – a real nice witch when we were in school. Then you married that jerk. Well, I'm leaving you 1 million galleons, to be transferred to a private vault. It is not linked to the Malfoy money in any way, so when your stupid husband ends up dead or captured, and I hope it's soon, you will be able to live out your life in a decent manner." Narcissa nodded her head formally, but Harry noticed she had a pleased glint in her eye. Harry made a mental note to tell Sirius that Lucius was indeed in Azkaban.
"Draco" Sirius looked the young Malfoy in the eyes. "I don't like you. You are petty, prideful, prejudiced, bullying, nasty, cowardly… everything I don't like in a kid. I can't even call you a man. The only reason I'm leaving you anything is because you are Narcissa's kid, and because I want no chance you can contest this later. I'm leaving you 2 thousand galleons – enjoy. It could have been much, much more if you weren't such a weasel." Draco gulped and nodded, and made a faint attempt at looking like he didn't care, but Harry could see he was shaken. Harry also glanced over at Ron, and was disgusted to see raw jealousy and greed oozing out of the red head's face. Harry saw Fred nudge George and point at Ron subtly, and the twins both looked with disapproval at their brother's reaction.
Sharpclaw cleared his throat for attention. "At this time, the reading is over for the Malfoys. Please leave the room, where you will be escorted to the lobby by my assistant waiting for you outside." He bowed to the flaxen-haired couple as they exited.
"Now" smiled Sirius looking around the room, "the rest of us are friends and we can talk openly. Arthur, Molly – you have rough times ahead of you. Before we get to the fun stuff – like money – I need to give you a heads up. For a long time now I've had my doubts about Dumbledore." (Harry noted every head in the room snap up at this except Remus and the twins). "I don't doubt he is against Voldemort, but I do question his methods. He has kept Harry and the rest of us in the dark far more than necessary, and caused a lot of grief with his decisions. I don't think the Burrow is safe – I haven't for a while. You need to leave, and leave soon. The sooner the better. I'd offer you a Black property, but it would probably be too obvious and Bella might have ways to find them. I want to personally thank you for being like parents to Harry when I couldn't be myself. You will always have my gratitude." (Harry saw sincere tears on Molly's cheeks and a pleased expression on Arthur's face). So I'm leaving you two 2 million galleons – that should help in relocation".
The Weasleys gasped in disbelief. "That is too much, Sirius" gasped Molly weakly, but Sirius merely smiled broadly and said "Too bad – it's already been done". The twins clapped with joy for their parents, and Ron looked surprised and pleased. Hermione, Tonks, and Remus were all laughing at the Weasley's obvious shock and delight.
Sirius turned to Tonks now "Nymph sweetie! I can finally call you that without getting a black eye" Sirius smirked at her with mirth. Tonks growled playfully and made a fist at him – she really hated her real first name. "2 mil for my favorite niece – maybe there's a certain wolf you could settle down with? And speaking of wolves" Sirius turned to face Remus, "Remus my friend. You really have had a short stick from life. You have been a fantastic friend and fighter for the good. Finding work and places to live with your 'furry little problem' has been impossible, so 1 mil for you, and Grimmauld Place. Now you don't have to worry about that. Settle down and raise a litter of pups. And please keep an eye on our cub, ok?" Remus nodded, eyes shiny with tears.
"Fred and George!" Sirius turned toward the twins, and thumbed his nose at them. "You guys are the best. Love the joke shop – wish I could have spent more time in it. You are making your own fortune, so money doesn't mean a lot for you, but you aren't leaving empty handed. To my pal Fred, I leave a note book full of pranks and ideas for future projects I had made in school, a case of Slothmore's 25 yr Firewhiskey, and a cottage in Hogsmeade. George, to you I leave the notes on how we created the Marauder's Map, a keg of Mavinder's best Meade, and a cottage near Diagon Alley. To the both of you, I leave Zonko's joke shop. Yes," he smiled at their disbelief, "I bought it a year ago – I never got around to actually handing it over to you."
Fred and George jumped up from their seats, danced a jig arm in arm, marched up and kissed Sirius' portrait. Everyone had a great laugh that helped to ease some of the tension.
Sirius turned to Ron with a smile "well, Ron! I understand you've had a rough time. It's tough when your best friend has all the money, all the attention, all the fame." Harry wasn't happy to see the expression on Ron's face. It wasn't warm and fuzzy at all. "To help you become your own man, I'm leaving you with 5 thou of your own. Don't leave Harry – I know he can be moody, but he has been through hell, and he needs his friends. Remember – you have the one thing he can never have, and would give everything for – a loving family."
Ron nodded at Sirius, but didn't look any where near as ecstatic as he should of. It was a rough week for Harry – first learning about Dumbledore's questionable motives, and now he was more than a little uneasy about his 'best friend'.
"Hermione, my love!" chortled Sirius. "You are the smartest witch of your age. Without your brains and support Harry couldn't have survived the past five years. You two are a terrific team. I leave you 5 thou also, and the Black library which is at Grimmauld Place. Don't worry, I removed and destroyed any booby-trapped books. Yes, some of the books are very dark magic, but how can you beat the opposition if you can't understand it first?" Hermione was crying again, and spoke out her thanks to Sirius.
Sharpclaw once again cleared this throat. "That is all there is. We will deliver the portrait once Mr. Potter has had his reading. Please exit the room where you will find my assistant to help you to the lobby after signing paperwork." He gestured them politely out of the room. Ron held back, looked at the painting, and muttered "you probably left a fortune to Harry, didn't you?" Hermione looked appalled, but Ron just glared at her and left the room.
When the door shut, Harry pushed gently to the front of his room to gaze out the window as close to Sirius' portrait as he could get. Sirius turned, looked Harry in the eye and laughed "hey cub – how's it going?"
"You can see me – you knew I was here?" gasped Harry.
Sirius laughed. "Sure – knew it before I was brought in. I just had to ask about you to make it convincing" Sirius chuckled. "By the way, nice hat. So, you going to stay over there, or come over and say hi?"
Harry spun around, stuttering "how – where?" One of the kindly witches gently pushed him toward one of the oak doors and smiled. "Just go through there – it will take you to the next closest painting, which in this case is your friend." Harry snatched the hat and wig off his head, gratefully handed to the beaming witch, grabbed the doorknob and jumped through without a second thought.
And there he was, in Sirius' portrait with him, magically in the same scale. Sirius grabbed him in a strong hug, and Harry bawled unashamedly, taking in the wonderful moment. After an eternity, or was it a moment, Sirius stood back a couple of steps, took Harry's hands and smiled down at him.
"Harry, I'm so sorry this isn't the real me. Don't be fooled by the realism – the real me is gone. My painting here is to help you and advise you, but don't ever forget that, or dwell in the past – this isn't the real Sirius Black."
But the expression on the portrait version of Sirius was so sincere – the wide grin, dark eyes almost spilling over with tears, and warm hands. It even smelled like Sirius, which made the deception even crueler. Harry looked at the ground, tears still falling slowly, and refused to look him in the eye.
"What is it, my cub?" Sirius tilted Harry's face to meet his by the chin. "What's on your mind?"
"Well, this is all my fault, Sirius. You know it is. You'd still be alive if it wasn't for me. How can you be happy to see me? Would the real you be this pleased?" Harry sobbed with guilt and grief.
Sirius smiled at him and put an arm around his shoulder. "Harry, I commissioned this painting with Remus' help while I was prisoner at Grimmauld Place. I updated the portrait daily with anything I could think of that could help you in case of my death, and the last update was the day before I snuffed it. I concentrated on you with this – I figured my days were numbered for a variety of reasons, and I knew you'd need some help getting over it. You are not to blame – Bella killed me, with Dumbledore's help and blessing. I knew I was heading into a trap, and I wanted to be there for you. You do know that Dumbledore put Bella under the imperious, don't you? Really, it was him that murdered me."
Harry gaped at Sirius. He moved his mouth a few times, but wasn't able to make any noise.
"Now I can be perfectly honest with you. Dumbledore has been pulling strings and working events behind the scenes for decades now. He wants to be the hero to defeat Voldemort, and will stop at nothing. I have no doubt he has his eye on the Ministry of Magic, but doesn't want the job until he can be voted in as the hero of the war. His only interest in you is how you can better his position and make him look good. Do not trust him, do not confide in him, but do not confront him. Remus, Tonks, Fred and George know, and you can trust them. I think Molly and Arthur are cool, but I'm not sure. Hermione is straight, but Harry, be careful with Ron and Ginny. I don't trust those two – I think Dumbledore's got them in his pocket."
Harry listened intently, nodding in agreement. "Griphook the goblin has been speaking with me – I just learned some of what Dumbledore has been doing to me all these years. I'm furious, but I've got to be cautious, I know. Griphook is going to teach me goblin magic!" He smiled excitedly.
"Excellent!" Sirius nodded. "And don't forget the house elves. They are very powerful and underestimated, Harry, and they already love you. Learn all you can of the kinds of magic both Voldemort and Dumbledore don't know. That is the 'power he knows not'."
"Humph" snorted Harry. "Dumbledore told me it was love."
"What?" yelled Sirius. "Whattaya going to do – walk up and KISS Voldemort?"
Harry and Sirius shared a good laugh at the mental picture as Sharpclaw walked back into the office. "Have you two had a nice visit? We do need to finish the reading of the will, if you are ready."
With a glance at Sirius, Harry nodded and waited for Sharpclaw to speak. The goblin picked up the will and read "I Sirius Black, leave everything else to Harry Potter, in the sincere hope that he will use some of it to treat himself to a good remainder of his childhood, and find some safety from his relatives and Dumbledore." Sharpclaw looked at Harry and said "you have the contents of the two Black vaults. In addition, I name Harry Potter my heir and heir to the Black family name."
Sirius grinned at Harry, who looked embarrassed. "There's a good bit of cash in one of the vaults, and lots of cool treasure in the other. Yes, Ron is right – I've left you a good fortune. I would have left Ron less than Malfoy if it wouldn't have raised people's suspicion."
Harry gave a deep sigh and looked at Sirius, treasuring the feel of the adult's arm around his shoulder. "It hurt to loose you Sirius – it always will. I'll move on, but there will always be a bit of a hole where you were. And losing Ron was losing some childhood innocence, if that makes sense. He was my first friend, and best mate for five years. I don't know if I'll ever get over that too."
His godfather looked down at him and smiled sadly. "Most childhoods are rough, and yours has been hell, Harry. The tragedy of your life is the fame your destiny thrust on you. Because of that fame, you attract good and bad. Dumbledore is powerful, but he's also old, and has gotten lazy. He is so use to manipulating people; he doesn't do it with the same finesse as in the past. His use of you, Ron and Ginny have been heavy handed and clumsy. You will get over it. Lean on Hermione and the twins – they are true friends."
Sharpclaw spoke up again. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but we need this room, and it's not a good idea to be out of your body for too long a time. If you will say your good byes to Mr. Black, leave out that door into the first painting, and out the red door, we will have this portrait of Mr. Black reduced in size and sent to your address at Privet Drive. When you wake Griphook will help you with the paper work concerning Mr. Black's estate."
Harry smiled up at Sirius and gave him a large hug, returned in full. "See you soon Sirius – thanks for having this painting done. I don't care about the money and stuff – this portrait of you will give me what I always wanted – you in my life to guide me."
Sirius tussled Harry's hair affectionately. "You are a good person, Harry, and I love you. I'll see you as soon as I'm delivered to your house."
With that, Harry broke away, exited the painting, and waved good bye to the witches and wizards in the next room. Smiling, he opened the red door and stepped into blackness. Opening his eyes, Harry was looking up at his ceiling once again, turned to see Griphook looking at him with composure, and sat up on his bed.
"Well, I'm back" Harry sighed. "It was a shock to see Sirius again, but boy I needed to talk to him! I can't wait to get him here. And Griphook, Ron is not my friend either. I'm really learning a lot since your visit last week. It really hurts – he was my best mate for five years, and now I see I never really knew him."
"Yes, Mr. Potter. Is he the one you gave you that sneakoscope?" Griphook asked, pointing a long finger at the glass object on Harry's nightstand. Harry nodded and with a wave of his hand, Harry watched a blue glow surround the sneakoscope, with an iridescent bubble containing the glow and object.
"What are those, Griphook?" Harry asked, drawing closer.
"Well", replied the goblin, "the blue aura is goblin magic to reveal spells, charms, hexes, etc. By the color of the glow, I can tell you somebody charmed this sneakoscope to reinforce feelings of loyalty or love you have for the person who presented it to you. The outer 'shell', for lack of a better word, is a shield I contained it with when I arrived last week, before waking you. I scanned the room for magic, and besides your wand, cloak, inks, spell-checking quills and other school supplies, this was the only item that turned up positive. I came to the conclusion it was Mr. Weasley because in the week you have been away from its influence, you have come to realize his friendship is something to be questioned."
Harry snorted. "At least I don't have to feel stupid for not seeing through him sooner – I was getting constant magical encouragement to like him. I think the hardest part of seeing Ron and Dumbledore again will be hiding my true feelings."
"That" said Griphook solemnly, "is going to be part of your training. Here, Mr. Potter is a list of all the assets from the Black estate if you wish to look it over. I have a stack of parchments for you to sign and a couple more items."
Harry took the parchment Griphook gave him and glanced over it with small interest, started to put it down and then grabbed it again. "EIGHTEEN MILLION?" he yelped – "How? Why? That's too much!"
His companion smiled his toothy smile at him. "Mr. Potter, the Black estate was at one time quite extensive, as you must have gathered from what he gave to everyone at the reading. The Black family is very ancient. If it had not been for the wars, your godfather's imprisonment, and how the family was split into sides, the wealth would have been substantially more."
Harry signed the paperwork with numbness. "What now?" he asked weakly.
"Here is the Black signet ring – wear it at all times." Griphook handed him a handsome gold ring. "It has been charmed to add some magical protection against many hexes and charms, and it gives you access to the Black vaults. And here," Griphook handed him another gold ring, "is the Potter signet ring. You wear it on your other hand. I took the liberty of charming it to give you the goblin magic of seeing auras without casting the spell. To use it, simply rub the top with your finger twice – the effect will stop after a few minutes so you don't drive yourself to distraction seeing auras everywhere. Your name is now Lord Harry James Potter-Black."
Harry gazed at the rings on his two fingers. Both were handsome gold, plain except for intricately engraved family crests on the top. "How come I've never noticed rings like them on other people's hands? Shouldn't Dumbledore, Mr. Weasley, or other people wear their own? What about Malfoy?"
"Hrumph" snorted Griphook. "Mr. Malfoy will have his ring when he comes of age. You get yours now because you are the only surviving member of each house. As to why you don't see them, most people charm them invisible – it's in rather bad taste to flaunt your lineage in certain circumstances, and could be an invitation to a mugging in others."
"Oh!" Harry said. "Um, could you do that for me, since I can't do magic here?" Griphook waved his fingers over Harry's hands, and the rings slowly faded from sight. He could feel them on his fingers, and had some fun rubbing the Potter ring and looking around at the auras in his room, but soon turned his attention back to Griphook.
"One last thing" Griphook said when he had finished with the invisibility charm, "here is a gift from me." He handed Harry a book. "If you are still interested in lessons with me after reading it, speak into the picture on the bookplate and I will get the message and contact you. Do not send owls, as they are not private. And do read the book – there will be a quiz". The goblin ended with a friendly yet threatening smile that Harry decided meant Griphook wanted to continue with him, but wanted to be taken seriously.
Harry looked at the book – the title was "Goblins through Goblin Eyes". He nodded appreciatively at it. "Thanks Griphook – I'll be calling when I'm done with it. I'm really looking forward to learning about a world I've ignored before now. And thanks for everything – I really mean that."
Griphook nodded, gave Harry a short bow, and apparated from the house.
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