~^ Chapter 5 ~^

The ride was exhilarating! The track was rather like a roller coaster as it wove and dodged its way through the tunnels at impossible speed. The tunnels were like a labyrinth, and on more than one occasion it seemed that they would run headlong into a dead end, before the tracks would swerve suddenly down a different corridor. Not able to help himself, Harry threw his arms up and laughed loudly in elation as the cart hurtled down sharp inclines and jerked them about. This was rather like he imaged flying to be, what with how fast they were going. Glancing down a side-tunnel on the way past, he could swear he saw an eruption of flames and a flash of glittery scales. It was the most amazing ride of his life.

The cart ground to a halt all too soon for Harry's liking. Climbing from the cart rather shakily, he grinned like a madman at Griphook, who was shaking his head at the boy looking amused. To his credit, Walter also appeared to have enjoyed the ride, though he refused to do anything so unseemly as Harry. At least Harry was not reprimanded for showing his emotions.

The retainer waited in the cart as Harry and Griphook approached a line of vault doors on the narrow walkway. Glancing at them all curiously, Harry posed a question.

"Do you know what each vault contains?"

"I do, Lord Potter. I would recommend investigating the Potter family vault first, as I believe that is where all of the rings were deposited. There is also a family tree contained within which you may wish to study."

The goblin strode over to one of the doors and extended a clawed finger, trailing it across the surface. With a rumble, the door swung open revealing its contents. Harry was in awe. Stacks of gold, silver, and bronze rose high above his head; cluttered shelves of books, and chests overflowing with jewels of every kind took up most of the space not occupied by the money. In the center of it all stood a simple wooden table, upon which sat several items. He stepped into the vault cautiously, eying the haphazard stacks of coins warily, wondering if they would topple over onto him. They did not, to his relief.

Stopping in front of the table, he saw two rings. One gold with rubies inset in the band, and the other, a simple silver band with Celtic knot work etched into the metal. Upon closer inspection he realized the knot work was actually depictions of snakes. Sat beside the rings were a scroll tied with a rich burgundy ribbon and a thick envelope with his name on it. Shock coursed through him at that. Snatching the envelope, he hesitated only a moment before breaking the blank seal to open it. Several thick sheets of parchment were nestled within. He unfolded the topmost document and stared at it blankly for several moments before the words began to make sense.

'Dear Harry,

You'll find everything you need to know within these papers. There are some things that need said before too many pleasantries can be addressed. First of all, no matter what anyone tells you, never blame yourself for our deaths. Second, yes, we knew we were going to snuff it; I'll leave the specifics to your mother, I've never been good at explaining things in detail. Third, and most important, take a look at the family tree. It's the scroll that the goblins should have left next to these letters.

You should find some enlightening information contained in that tree. Hopefully you'll at least have been raised knowing about the different pureblood families. If not, then I would recommend getting a book called 'Purebloods Through the Ages' by Christopher Chant. What's important about the contents of the tree isn't in the name, it's in the blood, or more specifically, the Titles, which Bloodclaw hopefully explained to you since you're reading this letter right now. As a side: Only you could be reading this letter right now, as Moony and Lily both enchanted these letters to insult those of non-Potter/Evans blood who attempts to open them. Ingenious really.

Another useful tidbit, I would recommend using all the titles to your full advantage. The Master of the Mire one is tricky, but I'm sure some of Lily's cunning would have been passed onto you. How the woman got into Gryffindor is beyond me. But that's beside the point. I'm rooting for you to get into Gryffindor, but it will be completely fine with me if you chose another house, even Slytherin. How could I mind, with your mother being who she is? I'm getting off topic.

In the Potter Vault, find the black school trunk with my initials on it, and look for a purple book with gold trim. It's a diary myself and the other Marauders (Me, Sirius, Remus, and the rat) made detailing how we accomplished the Animagus Transformation. It's a highly useful skill to have in a tight situation. Just don't get caught. It will be difficult for you to accomplish the transformation so young, but I have faith in you. At the very least you can research the methods and prepare for it mentally until you feel you're skilled enough to manage it. The transformation itself isn't monitored by the Ministry, as it doesn't require a wand, so you can practice over the summer. It is highly illegal not to register with the Ministry though, so I'll repeat: DO NOT GET CAUGHT.

I'll talk more in another letter, but these things needed said more than anything else.

Love,

James Potter,

You're dad.'

Harry slowly lowered the letter and stared at the table blankly in silent wonder. As everything else he had learned in the past day or two, it made his head reel. His parents had written him letters, with the knowledge that they would die. How it was possible, he didn't know, but then, his dad had said that his mum would explain in her letters. He carefully bundled up the letters and slipped them back into the envelope before turning to stare at Griphook. The goblin smirked back at him from the doorway.

"Are there any bags available that will allow me to carry a few items?"

"Why yes, Lord Potter, there are." The smirk widened, "On the back bookshelf to the left is a leather sack. It can hold up to twenty items of any size or weight without outwardly effecting the size, shape, or weight of the bag itself. It is capable of hold more, depending on the weight and size of the items in question."

"Thank you."

Pondering his father's words, he tilted his head to the side, still observing the goblin. "Griphook, in your opinion, just how many people at Hogwarts would possibly recognize the Slytherin ring?"

"I can't say with certainty, Lord Potter. The ring has been out of sight for many centuries, and there are many false descriptions of it within certain books. Previous bearers of it have had it imbued with invisibility."

Nodding thoughtfully to himself, Harry turned back to the table and picked up the rings. They were light, but held a certain insubstantial weight to them that he could not describe. Slipping the Potter ring onto his right index finger, a comforting warmth spread through him, radiating from the ring. The Slytherin ring produced the same effect as he placed it on his right ring finger. They resized to fit his frail, bony hand, though he hid his surprise at that. He only allowed himself a moments pause for consideration before moving over to the appointed shelf and taking the leather sack.

He spotted a black trunk sitting shoved between two bookcases and blinked, marveling at his luck. Making his way over to it, he examined the lid and sure enough, stamped on one corner in gold leaf writing, were the initials 'J.P.' He opened it with a certain amount of reverence. This trunk had once belonged to his father. There were many different items contained within. From a set of old school robes, to text books, to a strange walnut-sized gold ball with wings. Shifting carefully through the things he paused in thought. He could just take the entire trunk with him. There were a few things contained within that caught his interest, that he would love to examine more thoroughly. Making his decision, and not wanting to delay Walter any more than he already had, he turned once more to glance at the helpful goblin.

"Er, how would I go about fitting this in the bag?"

Chucking, the goblin explained that all he needed to do was fit the bag over one corner of the trunk and it would briefly expand to 'swallow' the trunk up. Harry was skeptical, but followed the direction. He placed the open sack over one of the corners, holding it by the flap so as not to let it fall off. For a moment he thought it would do nothing. Finally, it shuddered and seemed to yawn, stretching to impossible girth to easily devour the trunk. Or so it appeared to Harry as he watched with wide-eyed amazement. He didn't even have to pull the bag over the length of it, the bag simply seemed to wriggle and contract like a snake to 'eat' the trunk.

Overcoming his shock, he picked the bag up and was pleased to note the goblin was right about it not gaining additional weight. Making his way back to the table he also slipped the parchments into the bag before turning away back to the vault entrance. He was finished here for now. He figured he could always come back at a later date to comb through all the vaults for any interesting items. He was getting anxious now, at the prospect of going to Hellsing manor. His nerves had been repressed up to that point due simply to the exciting prospect of seeing his vaults.

The ride back to the surface was just as fantastic as the ride down, but Harry could not find it in himself to react. He was silent and introverted for the walk to the lobby. Once again his fears of the situation were playing at the fore of his mind. Walter seemed to catch on to his mood, as the older man smiled at him reassuringly as he accepted the portkey from Griphook. Thankfully the butler seemed to know what Harry was going through, at least emotion-wise, and did not question him on his silence.

Portkeys were rather annoying to use, Harry soon found out. As Walter spoke the activation word, he had the sensation of a fishhook tugging behind his navel, and then he was falling... falling while being pulled backward? The sensation didn't hurt, but it did make him feel queasy and unstable on his feet once he was slammed back onto solid ground. The shock of the experience caused him to flinch violently when Walter reached out to steady him.

A panic attack would have gripped him had he not glanced around and been shocked to stillness at the entrance hall he found himself in. The place was huge! Or at least bigger than anything Harry had seen previous, outside of London architecture. Pale marble and dark wood made up the floor and walls, portraits, tapestries, and antique vases decorated the room, along with an odd suit of armor or two. A grand wooden staircase twisted up two landings before leading to the first level of the house.

Harry rather felt like he was in a museum. He was nearly afraid to touch anything for fear of breaking something as Walter led him up the flight of stairs from the ground floor. The butler seemed to be in his prime, pointing out different hallways and rooms of interest as they passed, and informing Harry of some of the known history of the place. Harry of course knew the bare facts from his conference with Bloodclaw, but it fascinated him to listen as Walter talked about which royal family member stayed in that room, or what murder took place at that hallway.

They stopped in front of a closed door in the East Wing of the manor, and the boy was relieved to hear that he would not be meeting with Sir Integra right away. Opening the door, he was presented with one of four master bedrooms. It was far bigger than the master bedroom in Surrey. The size was comparable to a small flat, at nearly four hundred feet squared. A massive four poster bed sat in the center of the room, against the back wall opposite the door, with lavish furnishings scattered throughout. A large window took up one wall. Dizziness made his vision swim. The place was fit for a king! Not useless, orphan-boy Harry.

The retainer seemed to think otherwise.

"These will be your rooms for however long you wish to stay within the manor. Sir Integra asks that you please stay in your rooms until time allows for a full tour of the estate, for your safety. The manor is rather large and it is easy for newcomers to get lost. Afternoon tea will be brought up shortly, and dinner is served at seven o'clock. Will there be anything you require until then?"

"Er...." Harry trailed off and blushed, looking at his feet. Bruises and mild cuts were still causing him pain with every movement. Normally he would ignore the pain and push on in spite of it, however things had changed. No longer was he with the Dursleys, and despite his fears to the contrary, his logic informed him that he would no longer have to hold his silence when it came to his own well being. The request for help could not be budged past his lips, however.

The older man gazed at him kindly over his monocle. "Lord Potter, anything you need, simply ask. If it is discretion you require, rest assured I will do my utmost best to meet your needs."

The assurance was appreciated, but Harry still could not bring himself to ask. Instead, trembling slightly, he dropped the bottomless bag to the floor and reached up to tug the neck of his baggy shirt down past his collar bone. Ugly green and black marred his pale skin. Walter's back stiffened and he seemed to pale slightly, but gave no other outward reaction. Simply, the man walked through the door to the wash closet and returned seconds later carrying a first aid kit.

"You will need to remove your shirt and sit. Are there any broken bones?"

The retainer carried the kit over to a side table and gestured to one of the accompanying seats. Harry complied reluctantly, not at all comfortable with letting anyone see the marks of his weakness. He had been the fool who opened his mouth about it in the first place though. Stripping his shirt, he fidgeted and watched the man like a hawk as he brought out alcohol swabs, bandages, and ointments for his wounds.

In response to the inquiry about broken bones, Harry simply shook his head, not willing to speak at the moment. There had been no familiar grating feeling of bone against bone, nor had he lost use of any of his limbs. The expression on his face did not change throughout the process of cleaning the open wounds, even the deep ones that should have received stitching. He noted the butler's gaze lingering over the odd tattoos on his chest and finally spoke up, albeit quietly.

"I don't know where those came from. I've always had them. My relatives said they were there even when I was left on their doorstep when I was a year old."

He refrained from mentioning that they had been a source of constant beatings from his uncle once the man had first let his fists loose on Harry. They had claimed that his freakish parents had probably gone bonkers and done it to him themselves during a drunken stupor. That story had been believable up until the black serpent had corrected his view of both himself and the world. No way would he reveal his secrets to these people. It was horrible enough that Walter now knew about the beatings.

The man made quick work of it, thankfully, and said nothing more until the kit was re-packed and the remnants tossed in the waste bin. He stood and regarded Harry for a moment before sighing.

"I will not mention this to Sir Integra, for the time being. Believe it or not, I do understand. However should any future complications arise surrounding this matter, I will tell her. You are now Sir Integra's ward, and by proxy under her, and my, protection. Once you get settled in, I recommend you inform her of what your... family... was like."

Hot relief and cold confusion were left in the butler's wake as he exited the room and shut the door.

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Note: Now, before you all lynch me for that by-now-cliche at the beginning of the chapter, there really wasn't a better way of having Harry find out a few important things about himself and his family without drawing it out obnoxiously over several long chapters. Read a few more chapters before you give up on my writing ability. Now, I know for a fact that there are probably a few errors in this chapter. How do I know this? I'm hungover and sleep deprived. Spell check is God, but I'll go back over it in the morning and make corrections as needed in case I wrote in any discrepancies.

As always, I love my reviewers, and I will try to get the next chapter out quicker. Real life is kicking my ass at the moment, so I can't guarantee much beyond the fact that indeed, the next chapter will be posted before hell freezes over.

Check my Profile for a Poll regarding pairings for this story. And I think I mentioned last chapter (or it could have been in an entirely different story, idk) that I tend to post news updates on my stories on my authors page. I like keeping my readers informed *hugs* I pass out now.

~Black-Raven3