AN: Long time no see! Sorry for the long wait, but here I am, with the customary Diagon Alley chapter, and a few explanations. Soon, Harry will board the train for Hogwarts! What chaos shall ensue?
Before we delve any deeper, let me give you a hint to see if you can guess it, knowing me and my edgy mind, and also the fact I'm really obsessed with Behemoth (the metal band, not the kaiju) right now.
Also, this book has been getting a lot of hate over the last few weeks, lol. Can you be so kind as to shoot me some positive comments... totally not to help inflate my already hyperinflated ego?
Alright, enough rambling, on with the chapter! Happy reading!
Time: Next Morning
Harry had felt it coming before it had.
A magical pressure on his very blood, almost imperceptible, but still there. He could feel it.
It had been present for the last thirty minutes, and would be present for the foreseeable future, coming into existence an hour after James Potter had left the mansion, an unusual two hours before he usually left.
Harry definitely knew where he had gone, or at least, he had an inkling of an idea.
He had gone to Gringotts to execute a Potter family magic ritual. Why he had waited for so long to do so, Harry had no idea.
And he also had a pretty good idea of what he had done.
He had cast a binding oath using the family magic on him.
Perhaps something had occurred yesterday that had made James doubt whether the magical oath he had given would truly hold up.
Harry had several backup plans ready for the magical oath thing.
First, there was his vague wording when he had cast the oath, something he had expected he would be forced to change, but then, nobody had picked up on it. Stupid people.
Even if they had, a magical oath was bound to a person's magic. That meant that Harry just had to wait till the magic he was currently using ran out, and then, when he would feed next, he would gain a completely different person's magic, and be free of the magical oath. Free to kill.
That was what he had done when he went to Durmstrang the previous night.
But an oath on family magic, something that only the Head of the Family could cast or remove on his family members, was tied to the blood. Meaning, as long as Harry had Potter blood in him, he wouldn't be able to kill, or harm anyone, directly or indirectly, he could feel it.
If he did, he would die, as simple as that.
He had also experimented to confirm the hypothesis. The moment he was about to order the Imperiused Potter house elf to fetch him the head of a random Muggle, he was hit with a wave of sharp, blinding pain like a mild Cruciatus that told him all he needed.
Hmm, this was problematic, something Harry had completely overlooked.
He felt like hitting himself.
He had been so sure of his own superiority and their stupidity, he had ignored all the powerful cards that they held. And now, he was paying for that.
Didn't matter really.
Harry had enough dead bodies in stasis in his trunk to last him for the rest of the year if he was careful.
But it was not that.
It was the fact that now, it was obvious that James Potter held a position of power over him.
Harry knew what he had to do.
Manipulation wouldn't be possible, the Head Auror was obviously too smart for that.
Imperius was obviously out, even if the best Auror in the last fifty years couldn't, for whatever reason, throw off the Imperius, the Head of the House ring would prevent him from being manipulated with magic.
That left only one option, one which Harry didn't mind all that much, seeing as he really wanted his own mother for himself. That meant James Potter had to go.
But what about the fact that Harry was bound by his family magic not to kill or hurt, you ask.
Yes, a little history lesson here would be appropriate. Family magic enabled the Head of the House to give any order to their family members, and they would have to follow it or die. Their word was absolute.
This obviously created problems. Even a troll could see that.
Thus, another clause was included in the magic. The Heads of House couldn't order members to kill themselves, or stop using magic and things like that. And another thing introduced was the Head of the House couldn't use an oath cast on family magic to protect himself from members of the same family, or in other words, the Head of the House could always be killed by a family member, in a parody of power struggles between wolves of a pack. This was done so that corrupt Heads could be removed... if there was someone capable enough to remove them.
Ultimately, the Lordship moved to whoever was strongest.
And Harry was the strongest.
But as he said, he was in no real hurry. James Potter hadn't done anything to deserve death... yet.
He sighed as he lay spread-eagled on the cold marble floor of his room in only his shorts, letting the cold stone touch as much of his body as possible. The day outside was hot, and the foreign magic in his blood felt like an annoying mild fever or mosquito bites all over his body. He was uncomfortable, the same sort of discomfort that one got from something that was just slightly amiss, inconvenient but not in any way dangerous.
He didn't feel like putting up cooling charms in his room, seeing as it was breakfast time anyway, and soon, he would have to go down to the dining room.
After that, they would go to Diagon Alley, as they were supposed to get their Hogwarts letters today.
He tilted his head to the side, his black eye patch was in his pocket, so he could easily see the barely visible, glowing trails of Dark magic, black and crimson red and toxic green, left on the floor by the runic lines he had drawn the previous night... practising for something greater.
It wouldn't be visible to anyone without magical vision like Mad-Eye Moody, Dumbledore or himself.
Damn, he would have had a really hard time explaining what he had been doing if anyone caught wind of what sort of magic he truly specialised in. Telling Dumbledore was inevitable, he figured that the Headmaster had his own ways to know whatever was occurring anywhere in the world, much like himself, and truth be told, he really wanted to spar with the old wizard, and discuss magic with him, Light or Dark, have a heart to heart as two academicians and magic enthusiasts.
Hmm... he wondered what his sisters would think of it. Would they mind too much if he sneaked in a couple of books about his particular... speciality?
Speak of the devil.
"What are you doing, Harry?" Violet asked, an amused smile on her lips as she stared down at her twin brother, her emerald eyes gleaming in mirth.
Harry groaned at her, as she came to stand over him. "There is something called knocking on the door, you know? And it's not like it's completely useless. Normal people use it to protect each other's privacy."
"I'm your sister, your privacy is non-existent whenever I am around." Violet teased, going up to the window to throw the blinds open, letting in the warm morning sunshine. "See, it's such a lovely day outside, almost makes me wanna go play Quidditch."
Harry only groaned, turning to his side to shield himself from the accursed sunlight that flooded his otherwise dark room. "What would you have done if I had been jerking off, Violet?"
Her cheeks tinged pink as she tried to keep her dirty thoughts away, her green eyes meeting Harry's bland gaze. She couldn't possibly be fantasizing about her brother, of walking in on him jerking off and then offering to help him, suck him off... She had been reading too much of Teenage Witch Weekly.
"I would have called you a perv, and then sic Mum on you." She answered him back, trying to keep the arousal out of her voice as she nudged him with her foot. "What were you doing on the floor anyway?"
"It was fucking hot. One would think we are in Brazil or something with this temperature." And he was right. The day was hot, and Violet could see the sweat glistening on his flawless, pale skin, the dark ink of all his tattoos over his upper body glistening. Her own clothes were stuck to her skin with moisture, beads of sweat glistening on her forehead.
"Do we really have to go outside today? Can't we postpone it?" Harry whined, rolling on the cold marble floor childishly, enjoying its cold touch on his skin.
"Stop being dramatic, Harry. If we go any later, we will be swamped by crowds. Everybody will go to do their shopping tomorrow. Now come down, we are waiting for you to have breakfast to open the letters." She poked him again with her foot, before leaving him alone.
Harry turned around till he lay on his stomach, watching her thick ass sway as she left, not even bothering to close the door, his attention captured by her slim, toned body fit for a Seeker like her, the naturally seductive sway of her hips that was always present. Her shorts left barely anything to the imagination, leaving her luscious thighs and long legs on full display, to speak nothing of how it accentuated the sensual curve of her otherworldly ass, so deliciously firm and perky that it made his mouth water out of a desire to sink his teeth into her delectable ass.
His twin sister was one of the sexiest women he had ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on, and if she had blood even a fraction as delicious as Lyra, then it was imperative that Harry had her.
Eventually, Harry got himself to will down the raging erection he had got from just being around her, and summoned the strength to go downstairs.
"Good morning, everybody." He called out, ruffling his already messy raven hair in a sexy way as he climbed down the stairs a few minutes later, having taken a cold shower to calm (and cool) himself down. His hair was still damp from his shower, his dark raven hair glistening and still dripping with water, putting on a lovely show that the Potter women much loved, especially due to his lack of a shirt, which put his toned abs, his broad chest and well-defined pectorals on full display to their appreciative eyes. His muscles rippled and flexed in a way that sent them crazy, making their body tingle and sending blood rushing to their cheeks, the prominent 'v' of his hipbones scarily arousing, the dark tattoos that covered almost every single inch of his upper body alluring like a serpent coiling around its prey.
Harry met their eyes with a teasing grin as he flexed slightly, conscious of the effect his well-defined muscles had on them. He was not disappointed, as the three young witches blushed a bright tomato red, averting their gaze from ogling him so shamelessly.
His mother was the only one unaffected by his body, but that might have been because she was busy with the toast and bacon, and had not even looked his way.
"Good morning, Harry." Rose greeted, scurrying towards her elder brother to hug him tightly, uncaring that she was being too clingy. The Girl Who Lived let a soft sigh of pleasure and bliss escape her lips, as she felt his strong, muscular arms wrap around her, almost possessively, as she pressed her cheek to his chest, able to feel his smooth, flawless skin cold from the shower, against her cheek.
"Good morning, Rose. You seem happy today." Harry returned, pressing his lips to her forehead in a gentle, affectionate kiss, fanning her mad blush even further, and almost making her melt in his arms. She could feel the glares directed at her, courtesy of her sister and Lyra, and that only furthered her ecstasy at the little victory.
He let her go from his arms with a little chuckle. "Although I can't fault you for being so happy. I am excited to go shopping for Hogwarts as well." He clapped his hands childishly. "I'm gonna get my wand today!"
He smiled at them, eyeing the pile of unopened letters in the middle of the dining table for a moment, before moving to greet his mother instead, intent on making her blush as well, and dissatisfied with the casual greeting that she had thrown him as she worked on breakfast.
"Good morning, mother." His deep voice was husky and seductive, as Harry let a little bit of the Veela allure that he had gained, into his words, his smooth, silky voice like the soft caress of rose petals, a slight prick of its thorns on Lily's creamy, ivory skin.
His voice was like liquid sex to her ears, and despite it being just a casual greeting, all the women present just wanted to hear him say that again, sighing like he had just professed his undying love for them in the most poetic and romantic words ever. It was like staring into the Mirror of Erised, just hearing him was like getting a glimpse into their deepest desires, which, at the moment, was the same for all four women present, scarily addictive. Listening to him speak in that criminally seductive voice of his could make lesser women just cream themselves on the spot, and though the Potter women and the Black daughter had more self-control than that, it didn't stop them from grinding their thighs together as they tried to stave off the crippling arousal encroaching upon their consciousness, like a shadowy beast lapping at their reason, their very magic calling for them to jump this strong, powerful young wizard right then and there, to devote themselves, their body, mind and soul, to him, and him alone.
Lily's legs would have given way, her thighs quivering in arousal and her knees weak, and she was held up only by Harry's strong arms wrapping around her waist and pushing her against the counter as he hugged her back, nuzzling his face into her lush red hair.
She felt his strong arms, much more muscular than James had ever been, wrap around her midsection, dangerously close to her massive mammaries, making her feel like he could manhandle her any what way he wished, and the thought was scarily arousing for the redhead. His breath was warm on her pale, flawless skin, his lips barely brushing her skin, and she could feel his crotch pressing against her bubbly ass, barely hidden by the cotton pyjamas she was wearing.
Harry resisted the urge to groan, opting instead to smile into Lily's lush red hair as he took the opportunity to press his crotch against her beautiful bubble butt. Payback, bitch, for teasing him all day with those skinny jeans and sweatpants and your thick, deliciously jiggly ass.
And what furthered his excitement was the three pairs of eyes he could feel in his back, watching them intently.
"Ha-Harry~" Her voice was a few octaves higher than usual, and she almost let out a lewd moan from the pleasure she was feeling, a furious blush colouring her cheeks red as she tried to resist what she was feeling, not having any idea what was happening to her. She couldn't possibly be so attracted to her own son.
Feeling as if he had done enough for now, Harry let her go with a laugh to show he was only kidding. He wasn't.
When Lily finally came to her senses, her breaths still heavy with muted arousal, her emerald eyes gleaming as she held on to the countertop to balance herself, Harry was sitting at the table, a piece of toast in his mouth and the Daily Prophet spread on his knees, a steaming mug of strong black coffee in his hand. The room was quiet as everyone was occupied in their own thoughts and musings, though Harry was quite a major part of that.
He didn't seem to be bothered at all by that, pretending as if everything was okay.
"Why did Dad and Sirius go out so early today?" Violet wondered out loudly, drawing everybody's attention.
Harry sipped his coffee loudly. "Maybe this newspaper would give you an idea." He cleared his throat. "Last night, guards at Azkaban on their regular rounds discovered that one of the inmates was missing, the first incident of prison break at Azkaban reported in the last two hundred years. The inmate in question is Peter Pettigrew, a convicted Death Eater who betrayed the Potters to You-Know-Who, leading to the infamous attack on Potter cottage in Godric's Hollow on Samhain, 1981." Harry skimmed over the next few lines, humming softly and ignoring the loud gasps of worry that escaped his companions, muttering as he read the contents of the newspaper. "For more on Peter Pettigrew, turn to page..."
He trailed off for a moment, before raising his voice again, reading the next headline he thought would catch their attention. "James Potter, Head Auror and Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, in an exclusive interview with the Daily Prophet has confirmed the return of his only son and older brother of the Girl Who Lived. Harry Potter is said to have returned to Magical Britain last week, after several years of therapy for an undisclosed magical condition in an unknown place. He shall be joining Hogwarts this year for his fifth year, after Lord Potter confirmed that he was able to sit for his OWLS later this year..." Harry snorted at that, "For more information on the Potter family, turn to page, oh, fuck off."
Harry tossed the paper back onto the table, leaning back in his seat and groaning loudly.
"Harry, mind your language!" Lily warned him, shooting a look towards Rose, who only grinned teasingly at her.
"Mum, she's already sixteen. Next year, she will come of age." The Girl Who Lived agreed vehemently with her brother's words. "Don't keep pampering her, she's already spoilt enough as it is."
"Traitor!" She shot him a playful, hurt look, which only made him laugh harder.
There were a few minutes of comfortable silence at the table, and then Lily turned solemn, cupping her cheek worriedly. "Well, I'm still worried about Pettigrew. If he could escape Azkaban... I think he might come to Hogwarts..."
"Well, from what I've heard, Peter Pettigrew is a coward. But, oh well, he was still a Gryffindor, and they're not exactly known for their instincts of self-preservation, now, are they?" He ignored the indignant shout from Violet. "And even if he comes to Hogwarts, they're a lot of capable people there ready to take care of him, now that Moony too will be taking the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, not to mention you as Muggle Studies Professor..."
Harry stood up, putting down his now empty mug of coffee, and crossing his arms, all his muscles tense in anticipation. His face was solemn, his lips set in a thin line in determination, his jaw tense and the gleam in his mismatched heterochromatic eyes intense, an excited sadism lurking in his gaze.
"And above all, I'll be there. I think that just because I fool around with you guys, you've forgotten who I am..." He let his words hang in the air for a moment, letting the implications sink into their minds. Harry took the moment to take his black leather eyepatch out of his pocket, putting it on so that people could only see his emerald eye, something he shared with his sisters and mother. "As long as I breathe, anyone who wants to hurt my family will have to go through this wall... And anyone who hurts my family will know that their worst nightmare is hunting them every waking moment... magical oath be damned."
His voice had reduced to a deep, dangerous growl that sent shivers down their spines as they were again reminded of just what he was capable of, a harsh reminder of the fact that there was a monster lurking beneath his skin, a twisted insanity behind his mesmerizing eyes.
And without granting them so much as a glance, Harry turned on his heel, heading back towards his room.
"Call me when you leave."
Violet had to hand it to him, Harry pulled off the scary, cold Pureblood act very well.
She couldn't help but look him over as they stood before the wall that separated Diagon Alley from the Leaky Cauldron, waiting for Lily to be done with whatever business she had in the Cauldron.
Harry had apparated with Lyra and her, leaving Lily to take Rose. James and Sirius were busy with the Pettigrew business, of course, while Remus was at Hogwarts, just giving an interview with the Board, after which he would be led to his own office to furnish it as he liked.
Violet glanced at Harry every now and then as they waited, taken with his devilish beauty. He wouldn't have looked out of place on the cover of a black-and-white gangster movie.
He was leaning against the brick wall, taking the moment to smoke, now that they were alone. A cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth, held between his teeth as he puffed the sweet-smelling smoke, the white smoke sharply contrasting his mostly black attire. His long raven hair was pulled into a messy ponytail that only increased his lady-melting sharp looks, a smart-looking black hat sitting slightly askew on his head. His black leather patch was covering his right eye, his emerald eye with an absent look that suggested that he was not entirely there at the moment, lost in his own memories.
His high, aristocratic cheekbones and sharp nose complimented his flawless pale skin perfectly, making him look like a sinful angel, in his fitting white shirt, trousers and formal-looking tie, dark tattoos peeking out from underneath his collar and his muscles straining against the thin cotton of the shirt, the gangster look completed to utter perfection by shiny black business shoes, a black vest completing his suit and a heavy topcoat casually thrown over his shoulders.
Although he undoubtedly looked absolutely ravishing, Violet couldn't help rolling her eyes at the display.
Like they were only going shopping, calm down, no need to dress like a supervillain for your first public appearance in the Magical world. Well, first appearance as Harry Potter anyway.
Although she couldn't really find any fault with that, seeing as they were purebloods, they were supposed to dress well for everything. It was otherwise that the Potters and Blacks didn't act like true Purebloods, but she had no doubt that if she ran across Daphne or Astoria, Celeste or her bratty brother, or even the gentle Susan, they would be dressed impeccably in an expensive dress, with maybe a few House Elves running about behind them and nary a hair out of its place.
Violet turned to Lyra, frowning slightly as she watched the Slytherin doing her absolute best not to look anywhere in Harry's direction. She was wearing a turtleneck sweater and jeans, which was completely unlike her. Lyra normally opted to wear normal clothes that fit the weather, like herself, not preferring to wear the charmed clothes that Purebloods usually wore that always kept them at a comfortable temperature.
"Lyra, why are you wearing that?" Her frown deepened when she looked up at her, her grey eyes wide like a stag caught in a Lumos charm. "You don't usually..."
"It's nothing!" Lyra all but squeaked out, blushing madly. "I just felt like..."
She trailed off, making Violet raise a delicate eyebrow as she glanced at Harry meaningfully. He wasn't even paying attention to them, content to keep smoking while lost in his own thoughts. "Did something happen between you two? You've been awfully quiet all morning."
Lyra was saved from any further embarrassment by Rose and Lily's timely arrival. She was sure that, given enough time, Violet completely had the ability to weasel out the secret of the hickey hidden by a multitude of charms, underneath the turtleneck for extra measure.
"Sorry to keep you waiting." Lily panted slightly, before straightening. "We could barely get out of there." She wrinkled her nose cutely, making a face. Maybe living for so long with James had rubbed some of his childishness off on her. "Minister Fudge held us up."
She didn't speak any more on that, and none of them pressed her for any more information. Minister Fudge was always an unpleasant experience, and not the Lucius Malfoy trademarked scheming and manipulative type of unpleasant... it was just his annoying incompetence and disgusting greasiness which was so unpleasant.
Harry let out a last puff of smoke, before tossing the cigarette to the ground and crushing it beneath his boot. The nonchalance behind his actions made Lily bite her lip, another reminder that she couldn't admonish her son for that.
"Come on, let's go." She took out her wand, tapping the bricks on the wall in a well-defined order, and the magic of the wall came into play, making it cave in and disappear on itself, allowing them access to Diagon Alley.
Harry wouldn't ever get tired of coming here. The cobbled street looked like something right out of a medieval fantasy, meandering and twisting through the hodgepodge of the somewhat narrow alley, the buildings all overshadowing the street with their overhanging ledges and outcrops. All of it only added to the charm of Diagon Alley, the sheer number of novelties and attractions on display in the wide variety of magical shops on either side was mind-boggling.
He could see the purple smoke billowing out of the chimney of the Apothecary, and there was a man sitting on the sidewalk with a basket full of trinkets that whirred loudly, a few spinning nonstop and billowing little puffs of rainbow-coloured smoke. There was a little newspaper boy, offering out Daily Prophets and Quibblers to anyone who even looked mildly interested. He jumped to the side to dodge the man who came barrelling through, chasing after a litter of black kittens that twisted through the feet of everyone present.
He whistled lowly. "Long time since I've been here."
Lily smiled at him, though it dimmed a bit when she noticed that his attention was anywhere but on them. "We are gonna go to Gringotts first, Harry, to fetch a couple of galleons for shopping."
He glanced towards her, before sighing loudly. "Guess the fun part will have to wait. Come on then, let's go."
They made their way to the imposing marble building that dominated the street, visible from a long way away, despite how much the street twisted and turned. It was set in the middle of the street, which forked around the entrance of the building, widening before joining again on its other side.
Harry did not even pay attention to all the people who were looking at them, whispering to each other and pointing towards him, able to recognise him as the missing Potter son.
Well, it was hard not to, seeing as he looked very similar to his twin, and was accompanying them.
Maybe the wizards were really smarter than he gave them credit for, though it didn't really take a lot of genius to be able to see that he was Harry Potter, he was still surprised that they had managed to put two and two together.
"Welcome to Gringotts, Harry." Lily offered for her son's benefit as they climbed the short flight of stairs, impeccably carved from the whitest marble.
Harry didn't even pay attention to her, more interested instead in the two goblins standing guard at the gate, in full armour and wielding wicked-looking swords that could definitely have cleaved him in half with one swing.
The goblins, for all their bark, were little in terms of bite. They just liked to look aggressive and violent, and portrayed the same with an almost religious fervour, but the honour of the goblin race was long gone.
Didn't mean they were weak, though, no siree. They were definitely strong, and definitely violent.
They just couldn't act on their violent tendencies, not with the number of magical treaties and everything keeping them in check.
Man always triumphed.
The ornate oak doors, lined with ivory and gold, easily large enough to let a dragon in, and bearing the macabre warning that he couldn't be bothered less with, opened on their own, allowing them entry to the only wizarding bank in the entirety of Great Britain.
Although that might have sounded a bit stupid, it wasn't, seeing as most wizards had a moleskin pouch that could summon money directly from their account at whim.
Harry was sure that the Potters, at least the adults, had pouches as well, meaning that Lily was here, not for money, but for something else.
Fishy, especially since James had cast the oath on him just that morning.
Harry hung back, lingering in the main hall with the three young witches as Lily went to one of the tellers, presenting them with her key.
The gnarled goblin snarled at her, showing too many of his sharp teeth for comfort as it looked down on her from its perch atop the elevated desk, which must have been their version of a greeting.
Harry idly wondered if that was their way to assert dominance. Goblins were really sensitive about their heights... he wondered how far he could yeet them with his boot.
His dark, emerald eye scoured the bank with barely a hint of emotion leaking into his gaze, no boredom, no nothing. For the random person, it was like staring into a completely emotionless mask crafted by someone to imitate humanity, but had been caught lacking in the facial expressions department.
Harry watched the piles of jingling gold coins, ah, music to his greedy ears, and the jewels and treasure that the goblins were meticulously weighing in their old-fashioned scales, before they scribbled something down on books that were larger than they themselves were.
He wondered if he could really rob Gringotts.
Well, he guessed he could. He could rob Gringotts in the open day, and not a single goblin would blink an eye.
Harry felt like barking with laughter as he walked forward.
"We would like to make a withdrawal please." He spoke, taking his position beside Lily, his left arm in his pocket as he placed his right hand on the desk, or more specifically, the goblin's quill, leaning against the desk casually.
The goblin snarled at his actions, lashing his tongue acidly in Gobblegedook.
Harry just smiled, before he replied back, in Gobblegedook. What escaped his lips was a series of inhumane, feral growls and clicks, that completely went against the serene smile on his face.
He was conscious of all the eyes on him, as the goblin's eyes widened, only slightly. The grumpy expression did not leave his features, however, and Harry knew just how to cure that.
"I will require your key." His tone, while less severe than before, was still rough.
"I don't have a key." Harry raised his eyes, tilting his hat so that the goblin could see his eyepatch. "And I don't think I need one."
The goblin immediately shrank back, cringing visibly and recognising him for who he was.
"Please come this way." If Harry hadn't made prior... precautions, he was sure that the goblins would have made a mess with all the bowing and grovelling they would have done.
That was enjoyable, but had its right time and place, and this was neither.
As it was, he had already put himself in the spotlight, as he could feel the gazes of the other goblins in the hall on him, all painfully conscious of who was really there in his skin. The few wizards and witches present in the bank stared at him with various degrees of shock, surprise and curiosity.
Harry did not bother with them, easily striding forward to catch up with the little goblin, who had to almost run to keep pace with him as they left for the cart that would take them to the vaults.
Lily and the girls did a little jog to catch up with him.
"Harry, that was so cool!" Rose gushed over her older brother. "How do you know Gobblegedook?"
They stepped into a somewhat large cart, typical of Gringotts, as it balanced perilously on a single rail, taking whatever position they felt would be most comfortable for the tumultuous ride they knew was about to come.
Lyra smiled at her. "Trust the Ravenclaw to only take that away from the conversation." She turned to Harry, her grey eyes gleaming with barely hidden curiosity, lowering her voice slightly so that the teller who was now fiddling with the cart controls couldn't hear them. "I'm more interested in how you could make that goblin take you to a vault without a key."
"And I'm more interested in how much stuff you have in your vault," Violet added her own two cents, sidling up to Harry and burying into his side in preparation for the ride.
Harry did not mind, wrapping his arm around his twin's waist and clutching her even closer to him, until she was pressed up against his side, his other arm clutching his hat tightly as he leaned lazily against the cart's edge, already having cast a balancing charm on himself, so that this ride would be nothing more than a slight breeze.
He only laughed at their questions, feeling Lily's curious gaze on him, burning with the questions that her daughters had let slip. "I have my ways. I know certain people, or, in this case, goblins."
He closed his eyes, indicating that the conversation was over, listening to the grinding of the cart on the rail, enjoying the somewhat warm air that buffeted him, ruffling his clothes and messing up his hair, not that he minded.
A few minutes later, they came to a grinding halt in front of the Potter vault, located deep underground, one of the highest security vaults and guarded by practically every sort of protection that Gringotts offered, save for the dragons.
Harry sauntered in, though not wandering far from the entrance to the Potter family vault, merely content with watching the seemingly endless vault of gold, treasure and jewels and priceless artefacts that just lay around collecting dust in the Potter family vault.
His emerald eyes gleamed with greed that was hidden behind layers and layers of Occlumency, as he eyed the four lovely, divine-looking witches wade into knee-deep piles of gold coins and endless jewels. This was like a fantasy come alive.
He barely paid any attention to the three young witches who were shovelling galleons into their own moleskin pouches, taking enough to comfortably last them the entire year.
He was more interested in what Lily was here for, as he eyed her going behind the piles of gold, searching for something specific.
Harry hated not knowing things.
He bit down on his tongue, resisting the urge to curse as he heard the grinding of wheels outside the vault, not needing to turn to see who was there.
"Lord Potter!" Another goblin, separate from the nameless one who had brought them here, entered the vault.
"I'm not Lord Potter, and neither am I the Heir. The title of Lord and Heir belongs to my father and elder sister, I'm pretty sure you know that... Skullwalker." Harry greeted in Gobblegedook, a series of sharp growls and clicks escaping his lips. "How many enemies have died by your hand since I saw you last?"
"None, I'm sure you know why." Skullwalker gave him a toothy grin, clearly forced. It made the short goblin look constipated.
Harry pretended to laugh as well. "Well, I was waiting for you. So, let's not waste any more time, shall we? Time is gold." He switched back to proper English, turning to look at his sisters and cousin, who had dropped what they were doing to stare at him instead. He had let them know a lot of his secrets, but there were still hundreds more left in the shadows.
"I'm gonna go to my vault for a bit, alright? If you are done before me, then the goblin outside will take you to me." He pretended to look for Lily, despite already knowing that she had gone deeper into the massive vault and was well out of sight. "Well, since I can't see Mum anywhere, you can tell her where I've gone when she gets back, alright."
He waited for a moment, before turning on his heel and following Skullwalker out, sure that if he lingered for too long, then one or the other would want to go with him. There were some things that he wouldn't like them to know, and they were already too much.
There was only so much he could do with the freedom he had in Gringotts without making them look too deep into his excuse of the King of the Goblin Nation being his... acquaintance.
Yes, acquaintance.
"I think investing in Honeydukes can be beneficial. They are seeking to go private because of the money- they will expand their chain from Hogsmeade to other magical societies as well, with enough funding, they can go international, especially with Dumbledore unintentionally advertising them for free." The goblin, Skullwalker, spoke in one breath, looking through various papers. "They are proposing a thousand galleons for ten percent of the company."
Harry listened to him, an amused smile on his face. "If they are truly that desperate, make it fifty percent. If they don't give in, throw in a thousand galleons more and call it a deal. Or else, well." He shrugged his shoulders. "I couldn't care less, anyway. It's your and your team's job to invest my money, and honestly, I wouldn't have bothered with this if I had been just a little less dumb. Don't pester me with this, I have what I came for."
"Harry, what... whoa." Lily stopped in front of the vault door, having trouble picking up her jaw from the floor.
Harry turned to her, happy to get away from the little business meeting he was having in the middle of his vault, one of the highest security ones in Gringotts International, if not the highest. Yeah, as he said, perks.
"Mom, why did you stop?" Rose whined, pushing her aside gently to allow herself and the two others entry to Harry's vault.
"Woah." Their reactions were oddly similar to Lily's, making Harry stifle a laugh in his throat.
"Welcome, welcome, just come right in!" He greeted them sarcastically, before turning to the goblin and snarling at him in Gobblegedook. Skullwalker looked oddly scared for a moment at whatever Harry had said, a look that none of the others present had ever seen on a goblin and didn't think even existed. Skullwalker bowed low to Harry, before scurrying over to scoop some galleons into his own Gringotts pouch.
Lily looked at the goblin, before turning to him worriedly. "Harry, are you letting the goblins handle your money? I don't think-"
She was cut off as Harry scoffed at her. His eyes had not left Skullwalker, who was wading in gold coins piled to his chin. "Only a fool would let goblins handle their money... without any checks, of course. Those bastards are always looking to backstab and swindle people out of their money. Do I look that stupid?" He didn't stop to watch as Lily visibly cringed at his outburst. "I know what I'm doing- I've got a few stuff in place to prevent them from misusing my money, so don't sweat it."
"I think the more important question is how you have so much gold," Violet spoke, her voice awed as her emerald eyes reflected the golden glint of the mountains of galleons. Lyra could only agree with her, looking around her.
If the Potter vault was a pile of gold, this was a veritable mountain of gold and jewels and treasure, something that one would expect if a number of Pureblood families put together all their wealth and treasure in a single vault...
"I think the question here is how he has so much... stuff here," Rose added, looking around at the innumerable tomes and grimoires around her, slightly slack-jawed.
Harry smiled, patting her head, and playfully ruffling her raven hair. "You can have your pick, Rose. What is mine, is yours as well. That goes for you all. Help yourself to my vault."
He knew they would refuse.
He was right.
Despite the desire shining in their eyes to explore the contents of his massive vault, they held back. Lily spoke for them, shaking her head as she smiled towards him, a smile that was detached. "No, Harry. This is your vault. It would be improper of us to take stuff from here unless you give them to us yourself..."
Harry felt like she had more to say, but she had trailed off because her eyes, which had not left exploring all the books around them, had caught something that captured her fancy.
He had to hand it to her, she had self-control. He knew too well the greed that any academic like Lily Potter felt upon laying their eyes upon his treasured collection of magical knowledge.
He smiled at them, his eyes glittering as he discreetly patted his pocket, hidden beneath his topcoat, checking to ensure that the letter he had come here to fetch was still there. "If none of you want to take anything more, then we can finally go out and have our shopping done. Maybe we can go to Flourish and Blotts first, I really want to buy my new Hogwarts textbooks. Or maybe Madam Malkins to get fitted for my robes."
Violet had barely gotten out of Madam Malkins', her emerald eyes gleaming with excitement as she looked at the bags in Harry's hands, full of new robes for all of them, well, bar Lily. Both Harry and Rose had to get new robes, the latter because she had undergone a growth spurt over the summer, and now looked definitely more... womanly than she had before, to the effect that her old robes wouldn't fit her anymore, unless she was going for the slutty schoolgirl look, of course.
Violet highly doubted her nerdy little sister would be doing any of that anytime soon.
Well, and since the two of them were getting new robes, and because Lyra and Violet were both now young adult women, they of course had to get new robes as well.
She hooked her arm through his, watching as Harry wandlessly shrunk the bags, and put them in his pocket.
He let her stay by his side, not minding even when Lyra copied her on his other side, his arms now occupied with two beautiful witches.
"My, my, if it isn't the Potters." A soft, silky voice reached their ears, making them stop in their tracks. To be precise, that voice made Violet and Lyra stiffen and stop, their backs straightening as if ready for a fight. "Such beauty surely cannot be misplaced."
Harry turned around, an eyebrow raised at the voice, which might have been considered soothing if not for the touch of venom in his words. He had an idea as to who this could be.
His twin tightened her grip on his arm, leaning up to hiss a word of warning into his ear. "Be careful, Harry. That's Lucius Malfoy, one of the bloodiest bastards in the entirety of England."
He ignored her, letting them slip out of his grasp as he turned to face Lucius Malfoy, stretching himself to his full height, towering over the Malfoy Lord.
His singular emerald eye roamed over his appearance, taking in the haughty look, the slicked-back bleached blonde hair, the grey eyes, cold and gleaming like steel, and not at all the soothing stormy grey of Lyra's eyes. The pale skin, barely a few shades from being paperwhite stretched on high cheekbones, the rosy lips set in a thin line. Harry looked down at Lucius, his superior frame casting a shadow over him, but not doing anything to dull the looks of his dress robes, undoubtedly very costly.
He took pleasure in the little hint of fear that leaked into Lucius' eyes at his appearance, a raw, primal fear that every being possessed whenever they saw someone physically superior to them.
He was sure that Lucius had not expected the sick, probably sheltered Potter son to be so... gnarly, with an eyepatch, and little scars littering his chiselled jaw.
Shaking off his fear, Lucius smiled at him, a smile that made Harry make a mental note to take a shower immediately after he returned home.
"It seems you're a lot more... interesting than most would give you credit for, Mr. Potter," Lucius spoke, his eye fixed on Harry's black eyepatch, and his tasteful, though regretfully Muggle, attire.
For his part, Harry took an unwonted pleasure in the way Lucius had to tilt his head upwards to look him in the eye. The Malfoy Lord tried to downplay it as much as he could, but it was still there, the height difference between them was undeniable.
"Well met, Lord Malfoy." Harry gave a little, formal bow, taking off his hat in a show of respect that wasn't quite there in the nonchalance of his posture. "I've heard a lot about your skill in leading Magical Britain as one of Her leaders, as a major power in the Wizengamot, and I'm quite admiring of your personality and concern for society. It is an honour to meet someone as distinguished, with as many titles and honours, as you."
Too much honey?
According to the Slytherin handbook to charming people blind with words, there was nothing as too much honey.
He could see Lucius visibly swell with pride at his flattery, and could feel the incredulous gazes of his family locked onto him. Lyra gave him a discreet kick in the back of his knee for his little speech, but Harry barely even felt it, and thus, had little trouble ignoring it.
"I see you're much more polite than your family." Lucius sneered at the furious glare etched on Lily Potter's beautiful features, aimed directly at him. "Maybe we can even get along. Clearly, you know who you should... associate yourself with, something that cannot be said of your father."
"Keep my Dad out of-"
"I'm quite eager to hear what you have to offer, Lord Malfoy. Maybe we can arrange a better meeting place sometime... the middle of Diagon Alley is not the best of places to talk." Harry spoke mildly, cutting off Violet's fiery temper before it had any chance to take hold, crossing his arms and flexing his muscles, which showed clearly through his shirt, to remind the sleazy Pureblood who was really in control here.
It had an unintended effect. The Pureblood looked at his toned muscles with distaste, his nose wrinkled and his lips pursed as if he was looking at an uncivilised barbarian, apparently ignoring that Harry could snap him in half with his bare hands.
Not his neck. Harry could quite literally grab hold of Lucius Malfoy and fold him into a bloody origami swan.
His eye twitched at that, and he glared at all the jobless magicals who had stopped around them to watch the fun, or maybe just to gawk at the returned Potter son, who was talking so amicably with Lucius Malfoy, arguably the greatest enemy of the Potters in the society.
His withering glare had the intended effect, as the crowds around them cleared, though their gazes and their attention did not waver from them.
"Meet my children, Mr. Potter," Lucius spoke mildly, pushing Draco and Celeste in front of him.
Harry raised an eyebrow at the two, who had been hiding behind their father for so long, having recognised him.
Harry allowed himself a little tilt of his head, letting a small, seductive smirk sweep his lips as he looked over Celeste, emerald eyes clashing with steely grey, his actions met with a small blush creeping up her neck despite the crippling fear he could smell from her.
She had clearly inherited both the best traits from her parents, combining Lucius' icy cold, aristocratic look with Narcissa's Black genes to form the portrait of an otherworldly, almost magical beauty that even artists could only dream of. Her straight platinum blonde was pulled in an elaborate braid, her Acromantula silk robes more feminine than those of her father and brother, allowing Harry a little glimpse of her lithe body, curvier than Violet's, but still retaining a sleek, toned look.
Clearly, Celeste's expression told that she knew exactly who he was, while Draco's was more of an annoying hatred for him, remembering how he had been humiliated by the guy the previous summer.
"Father, I saw him at the party last summer, he-" Draco bit his tongue, preventing anything derogatory from escaping his lips at the dangerous look Lucius sent him.
Deciding to keep the act going, Harry bowed low, his hat in his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet such beautiful young magicals such as yourself, Mrs. Malfoy, Heir Malfoy."
Harry noticed how Lucius hit Celeste's ankle with his cane, making her stifle a whimper as she was forced to ignore her crippling fear, trying to shake off the stiffness in her limbs that refused to follow the commands of her mind. She offered a shaky, violently trembling hand for Harry, and he obliged her, kissing the back of her palm gently in proper Pureblood fashion.
If Harry's lips lingered on Celeste's smooth, flawless skin for longer than was appropriate, Lucius would be the last to complain. On the contrary, he looked positively ecstatic that Harry was displaying signs of attraction towards his daughter.
Harry was sure that he would be selling her off to the highest bidder as soon as she graduated from Hogwarts, and honestly, Harry couldn't be bothered less... if she hadn't been the youngest Ancient Runes Prodigy since Lily Potter, and back-to-back three-year Hogwarts Dueling champion.
It would just be wasteful to let such a beautiful talent go to waste.
He definitely wanted her. Beautiful, strong and undoubtedly deadly as a viper.
Harry straightened, smiling at her, a silent promise in his gaze, his emerald eye clashing with her steel grey orbs, alluring and sinful with forbidden temptations, promising many things like the Great Serpent who seduced Eve away from Adam.
Yeah, he was... well-read.
He watched as her blush darkened, as the silent girl refused to speak even a single word. He wasn't sure if she could even speak.
"I've had the pleasure of meeting your scions earlier as well, Lord Malfoy, as your Heir, ever so observant, pointed out." Harry bit the inside of his cheek to check himself from humiliating Draco in front of everybody, addressing Lucius though his eye did not leave the young, uncomfortably squirming witch. "I must express my deep regret for not being able to follow up with my promise to keep your beautiful daughter company for the evening. I wish I can rectify my error, and look forward to a beautiful relationship with your children in the House of Snakes."
If Lucius was surprised at the idea of a Potter expressing his desire to get into the Noble House of Slytherin, he didn't comment on it. If he could just manage to manipulate this young and stupid Potter into marrying his daughter, then he could have the Potters, and by extent, the entire Light faction dancing on his whims.
To anyone with a brain, it was painfully and obviously clear which child he was referring to in his speech, and Lucius' expression revealed his approval.
The girls behind him, including Lily, bristled at that, and Violet again hooked her arm through his, possessively, tugging him away from them while trying to fight the urge to snarl at them.
Harry smiled at Lucius, letting himself be led away. "I hope you will forgive me if I leave now, Lord Malfoy. We were about to get my wand, and you can see how impatient they get when they are kept waiting..." He trailed off, giving a fake laugh that Lucius returned.
The moment they were out of earshot, Harry felt like retching.
"What is the deal with you and him? I've never seen anyone worthwhile being so chummy with Lucius Malfoy of all people." Violet snarled at him, her arm hooked around his, while Rose tugged at his other arm possessively.
Lily looked conflicted. "I can't tell you who you can or cannot associate with, Harry, but I can advise you. And associating with Lucius Malfoy is not on the to-do list of anyone who doesn't want to lose everything and be a mindless puppet. He was one of the most feared Death Eaters during the war, do not believe for a single moment that he was under the Imperius-"
Harry cut her off with a nonchalant wave, chuckling slightly. "I'll keep that in mind, Mother. I just... well, despite how much Lucius had splurged, the Malfoy fortune is still one of the greatest in England, if not the entirety of Europe... and Celeste Malfoy is not too bad to look at, either."
That was a complete understatement.
Celeste Malfoy was drop-dead gorgeous, and her looks and her skills lived up to her reputation one of the most sought-after witches in Hogwarts, even more than his own sisters, no offence to them, as sexy and desirable as they were.
Lyra looked on the verge of smacking him. "You want to marry her? That bitch, out of all people?!"
Although Celeste wasn't as big of a bitch as she had been earlier -that title now went to her stupid brother- she still was from even the tolerable section in Lyra's books.
Harry chuckled, trying to deflect the question and save himself from their wrath. He had to say, Rose's glare looked more cute than scary on the short girl. "Think of the Malfoy fortune."
"You can't get the Malfoy fortune even if you marry Celeste." Violet glared at her twin, pissed.
He was her twin, he should be hers, and nobody else's! That is how it had always been in Pureblood families!
"Well, Draco doesn't really amount to much, now, does he... I don't think it would be quite a hassle to get him out of the picture..." Harry mused out loudly, thinking more to himself and forgetting his company, his feet mindlessly moving towards the little shack that was Ollivander's wand shop.
"You mean... kill him?" Lily's eyes fluttered. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.
Harry stopped in his tracks, his hand hovering over the handle of the door to Ollivander's, his body tense.
"Well, that's one way to put it..." Harry turned, trying to hide his thoughts by grinning mischievously, in a typical Marauder fashion. "And I don't get why you are all so angry at the thought of me marrying Celeste? I mean, like, I will have to marry someone, right? So, unless you're okay with incest... I'm definitely not opposed to marrying any of you... Dad might be, though."
He turned on his charm full force, his smile seductive and more alluring than a full-blooded incubus, enjoying the furious blush that coloured their cheeks a bright tomato red.
"Harry!" Lily whispered hotly. He could almost see the embarrassed steam coming out of her ears. Rose looked close to fainting, her cheeks red hot, while Violet and Lyra were trying their best to look anywhere at him, trying to stave off the incestuous thoughts encroaching upon their consciousness.
Deciding to spare them any more blushes and mortifying embarrassment, Harry pushed open the door of Ollivander's, chuckling quietly as he stepped inside.
He was definitely excited to get his wand, any wizard would be.
The moment Harry stepped into the shop, he was torn between an unexplainable urge to burn the place down to ashes and sing praises for this temple of magic. The very air inside the dusty, rickety old shack was charged with magic so thick that Harry felt like he was swimming in molasses, that made his hair stand on edge in fright while at the same time, it tugged at his heartstrings in a deliciously alien fashion.
It was almost... scary.
For any being that could feel magic, it was like an epiphany, an experience that brought man closer to God. Harry felt his excitement to visit Ollivander's was justified in every conceivable way.
He did not even notice the four women milling into the shop after him, so engrossed he was in the place.
He reached out with his hand, able to see the strong glow of wands without a master, thin, almost faint tendrils of magic beckoning him to them, tugging his fingertips to touch them, like the alluring touch of an experienced seductress. Rows upon rows of dusty boxes lined the thick, dust-laden cupboards that covered every inch of the walls. The table itself was made of wood that was almost beginning to rot, reflecting the sorry state the entire building was in, and behind it was a small, barely noticeable door, its dark oak wood blending it with all the rest of the dark, musty and dimly lit shop till it was almost invisible.
The large shop windows that allowed them to gaze into the brightly lit world outside were also laden with dust as if they hadn't been cleaned in a long while, tinged yellow with age and barely letting in any of the sunshine that bathed the world outside. Several balled-up bits of newspaper, stained with oil and ink, lay messily on the wooden floor of the shop.
Harry nudged a paper aside, heading for the desk, which, despite its lack of any signs of work, seemed to be the only place a master of his craft could feel comfortable in.
He swiped a finger along the glass on the desk, only for it to come up surprisingly clean, given the intended state of most of the shop. His emerald eye wandered across the messy newspapers spread atop the desk, with bits and pieces of a wand in the making, a very fine dragon heartstring visible against the white of the paper, and tools that Harry had never seen.
The shop was indeed dark, musty, the air stale and carried with it the smell of old parchment, leather and wand polish, a true forge of a Master at work.
It was as they said, a clean laboratory meant a lazy Potioneer.
Harry truly felt like he had entered an old temple to magic, hidden in the skin of a beautifully rickety wand shop.
And here came the priest, looking like he could be blown over by Harry's breath.
"Welcome." Ollivander's soft, mysterious voice sent shivers down Harry's spine, his blind milky eyes somehow seeing more about himself than Harry could ever hope to see. "I've been waiting for you for the last six years, last of your kind..."
"Death Trader."
AN: Boom! What do you think of this chapter? Damn, 10K words, and still I managed to get only half of the trip to Diagon Alley done. Maybe this story will really go on for longer than I initially planned.
Also, what do you think Ollivander's new title for Harry means? And last of his kind? Comment your thoughts. Did you like this chapter?
Keep calm and headbang!