Here's the next chapter. Thanks for everyone who's reviewed, and to my beta Dragyn at SIYE. Read and review, please!

May 24, 1998
The Burrow

It turned out that the Weasley Sunday lunch did have more guests than usual, but there was good reason. Kingsley had promoted Mr. Weasley to Senior Undersecretary, which effectively made him the second-highest official in the Ministry. Along with Andromeda, Mrs. Weasley had invited the Minister and a few of Mr. Weasley's friends from the Ministry to celebrate. Harry had not met any of them before, except for Perkins - who looked like he was rapidly approaching senility. Harry was not surprised to learn from Mr. Weasley that Perkins would be retiring within a few weeks.

Over the next few days, everyone in the Burrow fell into something of a comfortable routine. Bill, Charlie, George and Percy all left either that Sunday afternoon or the day after. Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione made their way to various corners of the Burrow and the surrounding countryside for some long overdue private time. Sometimes they also played two-a-side Quidditch, and despite all of Ron's attempts to teach her Hermione was still rubbish when it came to brooms.

Mrs. Weasley, meanwhile, was working harder than usual. The Burrow had never been a model of organization, but of late it was even more disordered than usual. Although there was no material destruction except for the roof of the broomshed, the Death Eaters had turned the house upside down during their searches. The worst of it had been set aside so the house could be lived in, though Mrs. Weasley was still spending a lot of time getting everything the way she wanted it. She stoutly refused all offers of help from anyone

This would have been time-consuming enough, but she also had to deal with the horde of reporters that now gathered at the entrance of the Burrow every day. Someone had found out where Harry was staying, and despite Kingsley's pleas for people to respect his privacy photographers had camped out in an attempt to get a glimpse of Harry. This did not go down well with Mrs. Weasley, who tried asking the mob to leave - with little success.

It was not until they got an "anonymous" note informing them just who Mrs. Weasley had dealt with during the final battle that the mob dispersed from the gates of the Burrow, although this only made them change tactics. Ron and Hermione caught a reporter climbing a hedge whose invisibility cloak had gotten caught on a twig. Harry and Ginny spotted someone that vaguely looked like Bozo, Rita Skeeter's old photographer, riding a hippogriff. Ginny's not yet being of age saved him from a Bat-Bogey Hex, but Harry shot off multiple jinxes that made Bozo think better of his plans.

It was not until the middle of the week that this routine changed. Everyone was in the kitchen having lunch when the fireplace roared into life.

"Molly? Are you there?" the head of Hestia Jones asked.

"Hestia, how are you? I haven't seen you in ages. You look tired."

"You know how it is, Molly. Dedalus and I were quite busy getting all those Muggle-borns out of the country, and now getting them back in here is turning out to be just as difficult."

"I understand, Hestia. Do feel free to drop by for lunch if you want to."

"I may take you up on that, Molly. In any case, business before pleasure. Is Harry there?"

Mrs. Weasley waved for Harry to come over to the fireplace. Everyone else followed out of curiosity.

"Ah, Harry. You will be glad to know that your aunt, uncle, and cousin are all back home in Surrey. I must say, though, your uncle is the most unpleasant man I've ever met."

Harry could not help but grin. "That's Uncle Vernon for you."

"Yes, quite. In any case, there's more that we need to discuss, but I'd rather not do it by Floo. Could you come to my office here in Diagon Alley tomorrow afternoon? Molly can give you the address."

Harry was quite confused. What did he need to talk to Hestia Jones about? He had no need or desire to communicate with the Dursleys, and everyone knew that by now. So what was this all about?

Sensing his confusion, Hestia went on. "Harry, my family has been practicing Wizarding law for centuries. You're not in any trouble at all, but I can't say anymore, not by Floo. I'm sure you will find the news I have most interesting. I'll see you tomorrow." She vanished from the fireplace.

"What could it be about?" Harry asked. No one had any good answers. "Whatever it is, you're in good hands," Mrs. Weasley said. "I knew Hestia back at Hogwarts. She's the best at what she does."

Harry learned that evening that Hestia Jones would not be his only stop in Diagon Alley the next day. Bill showed up after dinner, with what could best be described as an amused expression. Harry guessed that he was bringing the official goblin reaction to their daring break-in. He was proven correct when Bill took him, Ron and Hermione out into the garden.

"It can't be too bad," Ron remarked. "You don't look like you've been fired. I half thought you'd get sacked because of what we did."

"Actually, all things considered they're nottoo angry with you lot. They're still not happy, mind, but it's the Lestranges they're really furious at. And the fact that they're all dead doesn't help. Few things worse than an angry and frustrated goblin."

"Wait. We impersonate someone with Polyjuice Potion, curse both human and goblin guards - not to mention set free one of their dragons - and break into a high-security vault," Hermione said, counting each item with her fingers, "and they're not too mad at us?"

"Exactly," Bill replied. "Truth be told, I'm not really surprised. The worst thing you can do to a goblin is make them look like a fool. Nor do they like being involved in what most of them think are our 'messy' Wizarding wars. As far as they're concerned, the Lestranges did both. They put Gringotts right in the middle of our war, and exploited the goblins for something that they would never had agreed to. Had they known what that cup was, they'd never have let it in."

Harry was struck speechless. It was not what he had expected to hear.

Bill continued. "Don't forget, too, that goblins are pragmatic. It wouldn't look good in the Daily Prophet if they went after you. Also, the way Voldemort put in human supervision flew about as an Erumpent would. If anything, what they want from you three is to find out just how you did it - which is why I'm talking to all of you."

"Don't they have Griphook for that?" Harry asked.

Bill just shook his head. "His fellow goblins don't trust him much. Last I heard, he's been exiled to some far-off Gringotts branch in Africa. They can't exactly fire him, but they've done the worst they can."

"So what do they want us to do? Walk them through what we did?" Harry asked.

"Exactly," Bill nodded. "The goblins are a little worried. No one's managed to break into the vaults at the level where the Lestrange vault is - except for you three. You can bet every two-bit criminal - like, say, Mundungus Fletcher - is going to be inspired by what you did, and not in a good way. They want to know what you did so they can stop the next group of would-be bank robbers."

Harry sighed. "Okay. So how does this work?"

"Show up at Gringotts tomorrow morning and ask for me by name. I'll send the word up to the goblins, and we'll all take a walk down the tunnels. I'll be your escort, more or less."

"Did they ever get the dragon back?" Hermione asked.

"I don't think so. It's still hiding somewhere in Scotland. Doesn't matter, though. They brought in a replacement dragon already. They're having a load of trouble training her." Everyone grimaced at the thought of how difficult training a dragon would be.

"I'll see you all tomorrow then. Fleur's waiting for me at Shell Cottage." Bill started to walk towards the Disapparition point, but stopped as if he had suddenly remembered something.

"Harry, your vault, it's not to deep in the tunnels, right? Just a key to gain entrance?"

"Yeah, why? Did something else come up?"

"Just something I heard. There's this high-security vault not too far from the Lestrange vault that hasn't been opened for years, but I heard that someone was coming in to check on it tomorrow. And I may be wrong, but I thought he mentioned 'Potter.' Any idea what it's about?"

"No, no idea, Bill. Sorry."

Bill just shrugged. "Could be I just misheard him. Doesn't matter much, anyway. I'll see you all tomorrow."

Harry, Ron and Hermione found themselves the next morning in front of Gringotts. They had left Ginny at the joke shop where she was helping George out with restocking the shop. Customers had cleared out practically the whole store the previous weekend, and even now there were still more people than usual. George needed all the help he could get.

The trio spent more than an hour walking the goblins through their break-in of Gringotts. Goblins were not known for displays of emotion, but it was clear they were shocked by the sheer brazenness of it. Even Bill, who had heard the story before at the Burrow, was still amazed. Harry, Ron and Hermione all had expressions that clearly said, what were we thinking when we broke in here?

Harry took the opportunity to refill his money bag. All of Harry's material possessions had been with him during the past year, and as a result his clothing (consisting mostly of hand-me-downs from Dudley) was even in worse shape than it normally was. There had been an advertisement for a newly-opened store in Diagon Alley that specialized in Muggle-style clothing, and Harry had decided to buy some items there. Ginny insisted that she come along, saying that Harry (like most guys) had no fashion sense. Harry agreed, but only if he could spend some money on her as well. Eventually, after some protests, Ginny likewise agreed.

Harry and Ginny eventually went back to the joke shop to meet back with Ron and Hermione, having sent their purchases via Floo back to the Burrow. Entering through a back entrance, they saw Ron and Hermione in the storage room.

"Blimey, they're moving through inventory like a starving flobberworm," Ron said. "George said they just got new deliveries yesterday. We just finished taking down the inventory. You guys ready to grab a bite to eat?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at this. "Honestly, Ron, you and your stomach. Harry, Ginny, you didn't hex any of the photographers following you, did you?"

"No, but they bloody deserved it," Ginny said with a great deal of annoyance. When Harry and Ginny had left the joke shop for their shopping trip, they had been spotted by photographers and were followed all the way to the clothing store. Like a pack of hungry dogs, they had waited for the couple to emerge, but with the help of Harry's Invisibility Cloak Harry and Ginny made it back to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes without being spotted.

Harry sighed. "Call it a hazard of dating me, Gin."

"I can live with that," she replied, moving to kiss Harry before Ron loudly interrupted.

"Oi! Do you two really have to do that in front of me?"

"You're hardly one to talk, little bro," George said as he entered the room. "I heard some very interesting noises in here earlier." Both Ron and Hermione turned pink. "Anyway, where's the box of Extendable Ears? We're fresh out."

Ron pointed to a box right beside the door. George grinned as he picked it up. "Try to keep your hands to yourselves, you four," he said with a smirk.

"You are right, though, Harry," Hermione said once George had left. "To everyone out there, you're now a celebrity whether you like it or not. Once they find out you're seeing him," she continued to Ginny, "they'll probably consider you a celebrity too. For now, they'll be following you around if you're in somewhere with a lot like people like Diagon Alley or, say, Hogsmeade."

"Same goes for you two, though. How come there isn't a mob following you?" Harry asked.

"There was. Not as many, but we had a few follow us," Hermione replied. "You'll always be more famous, Harry, there's no way around it. You'll just have to grin and bear it."

Harry groaned. He knew Hermione was, as usual, completely correct - but it gave him little comfort.

After eating at a café right across Diagon Alley from the joke shop, the quartet made their way to Hestia Jones' office by Floo. To their surprise, George joined them because it turned out he had an appointment with her as well.

"We're settling Fred's estate," he explained, a touch of sadness in his voice. "Simple enough, since it's really just the shop, but Dad said it's still better to have it all in ink somewhere."

One by one, they each stepped into the fireplace in George's flat and emerged out into the waiting room of Jones, Jones & Associates. The young welcome witch recognized them immediately. She pointed Ron, Hermione, George, and Ginny towards the couch and coffee table where some tea and crumpets were waiting and then led Harry through a door and several wood-paneled corridors to Hestia's office.

"Ah, Harry, please, take a seat. Thank you, Lauren," Hestia said.

"Now, where were we," she said as she shuffled papers on her desk. "Ah yes, here. Harry, how much do you know about the inheritance your parents left you?"

Harry shrugged. "There's my vault at Gringotts, I suppose. That's all there is, as far as I know."

"Actually, Harry, there's more. A lot more. By my estimates, you'll be one of the richest persons in Britain once all of it is transferred to you."

"I don't understand," Harry said. He felt like he had been Confunded.

"Your family," Hestia explained, "was always good with business, both in the Wizarding World and in the Muggle world. Over the years, they built up a fortune as large as any other family, even the Malfoys. Eventually, when his parents died of dragon pox, your father became the latest heir to the family fortune.

"Before they went into hiding, your parents made arrangements for the family fortune. Some of it - the portion currently in your own vault - was set aside specifically for your own needs such as school expenses. They wanted you to have enough to live comfortably, but not enough to think that just because you were rich you could get away with anything.

"The rest was to be held for you in a trust fund to be given to you the day you became of age. However, my father and I, the partners of this law firm, decided that last year was not a good time, and, sadly, we turned out to be correct.

"It is now a time of peace, and you can finally take what is rightfully yours, Harry. I have cleared all the technicalities with the Ministry; all you need is to sign here."

Hestia handed Harry a parchment, and pointed to where he should touch the parchment with his wand. Harry tried to read it, but it was full of legalese and might as well have been in ancient runes. He tapped his wand right at the bottom, beside her pointing finger.

"Okay," Harry said, feeling a mixture of shock and amazement. He had thought the gold in his vault was a fortune, and now he had even more? "How much is it all, anyway?"

"We cannot come up with an exact figure because most of the fortune is in Muggle companies," Hestia replied. "Your grandfather was wise enough to realize that there are as many, if not more, business opportunities in the Muggle world. There are more of them than there are of us, after all. However, whatever the exact number is, you are now quite comfortably wealthy."

Harry stayed quiet, digesting this latest bit of news. "There is one more thing, Harry. Your great-grandparents, grandparents, and parents all hired us - my family - as their solicitors. Would you like to do the same?"

"Of, of course," Harry said.

Hestia smiled. "I had hoped you would say that, Harry."

She handed over several rolls of parchment and indicated where he should sign, saying, "You might find those other papers of some interest. It contains the businesses that you own a part of, both Muggle and Wizarding. I'm sure you would appreciate some of them."

Harry was not sure what Hestia meant, but he read over the list anyway. It was not until the second roll that he saw what she was referring to.

Cleansweep Broom Company (and fully-owned subsidiary Firebolt Sporting Brooms): 80 percent share

Harry could not help himself and smiled. While he was going over the rolls of parchment, Hestia had spoken to her welcome witch through an enchanted mirror and called George in.

"It appears that you have inherited the family knack for business. Please stay," she said, as Harry made to get up from his seat. "You and Mr. Weasley both need to hear the next item on the agenda."

If it was possible, Harry was now more confused than ever. Wasn't George here to settle Fred's will? Fred hadn't left him anything, did he?

Lauren led George into the office. While George sat himself down, Hestia unrolled a piece of parchment and read it.

"Ah, here it is. Last Will and Testament of Fred Weasley. He left everything to you, George. The personal effects don't require paperwork, but the 30 percent share of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes does. You have to sign these papers, and so do you Harry."

"Huh? What's going on?" Harry asked. "If Fred had thirty, you must have had thirty too... so who owns the rest? Why do I have to sign?"

George's face looked like he had been caught red-handed in the middle of a prank, "You, uh, you do Harry. We couldn't just take a thousand galleons and not give you anything, could we? So we set it up so you owned forty percent of the outfit, but we'd be in charge of actually running things. Fred and I planned to tell you after Bill's wedding, but that plan didn't work so well, did it? Anyway, we owe you a rather hefty chunk of gold, Harry. Call it three year's worth of dividends."

"Come off it, George. I don't need the gold. I've got more than enough."There's an understatement, he thought.

A sudden thought hit Harry. He didn't need the money, but he knew how to put it to good use. He told George what he wanted to do, and George idly scratched his chin in thought. "Fred was right, you know," he said after some contemplation.

"He said you were mental, but a noble kind of mental. You do realize that this is a lot of gold you're giving up, are you? Fred and I had some big plans, and I've got no intention of slowing down just because he isn't around anymore."

Harry shook his head. "I've got no right to it," he said. "It's not my name up on the sign, and Merlin knows the work you had to put into it."

"If you say so mate," George said. "I think I'll wait until the next Sunday to let Mum know. I'll need the time to figure how much to put in the vault anyway - Fred was always better at fixing the books."

"So go hire an accountant. You're too brilliant to get stuck doing the books."

"Yeah, I guess I will." George grinned.

"Oh, silly me, I forgot something," Hestia said. "Harry, you also inherited a house. A rather nice one, I should add. No one's lived in it since your parents went into hiding, and even then they were only there for a few months."

Harry's eyebrows went up at this. His only experience with a Wizarding house that had not been lived in for many years was Grimmauld Place, and Harry was not terribly interested in owning another decrepit building.

"It's not anything like the old Order headquarters, Harry," Hestia said, as if she could read Harry's thoughts. "We've been making sure it's all in good condition."

Harry's only reaction was to nod. It was all too much information to process in just one day, he thought.