A/N: Hello, people!
I don't own Harry Potter.
I have no beta.
ENJOY!
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"Master Goblin, my name is Harry James Potter and I would like to take an inheritance test, please."
He stood firmly in front of the podium that the Head Goblin resided behind, staring at the beady eyed creature directly. Said being leaned over to give him a piercing stare, pointed teeth gnashing together.
"Strange, that you do not have your key, so-called, 'Harry James Potter'."
"I do not know who holds it, Master Goblin," Harry answered reluctantly, disliking that piece of information the most.
The Goblin's teeth were formidable and as the creature bared them fiercely, Harry nearly winced. Annoyed Goblins wasn't anything pleasant, or so his visions had shown.
The Goblin snapped something at one of his fellows, who bowed and ordered Harry to follow him. Harry reluctantly bowed to the Head Goblin and thanked him for his assistance, knowing that he probably had better things to do.
The young Potter found himself seated in a spacious office with a large chandelier that certainly looked like it was crafted from diamonds, and marble flooring that was slippery and deadly to walk on. The dark wood of the chair he was provided with was enchanting. He liked it.
The Goblin behind the desk drew his sharply nailed fingers together and leveled the boy with a nasty grin. "So, he-who-claims-to-be-Harry-Potter, what incentive can you possibly give us to make us give you the potion for free?"
Harry frowned and rubbed his head, "I don't really know what you want beside the gold I'd pay when I finally get my vault key. I don't know who holds it and I'd just prefer to get a new one instead of trying to find it all out."
"Harry Potter's guardians would have his key," the Goblin pointed out.
The boy snorted, "If Aunt Petunia knew that I had money to my name and that she didn't have to spend the past ten year paying out of her own pocket for me, she'd riot. Most likely drain my dry while she was at it. We don't get along. I don't know what Dumbledore was thinking in placing me with her."
The Goblin leaned forward then, hands no longer clasped together, but gripping the sides of his chair firmly.
"You say that Albus Dumbledore placed you with your aunt? Can you prove it?"
Harry stared at the Goblin once again, feeling annoyance creeping up. This was getting ridiculous!
Harry stood then. "I guess I'm waiting to get my vault key. And when I do, I will be removing every item under my control and everything else the day I reach majority. Let's see how Gringotts does without the Potter and Black fortunes under their roof."
He turned for the door because he was sick of dealing with the underhanded ways. He wasn't strong enough to threaten people like he'd seen Tom do.
"What do you know about the Black vaults?" The Goblin demanded harshly from behind him.
"That I'm Sirius' godson and that he made me his heir on my first birthday. Good day, Goblin."
This one didn't deserve the title of 'master' and Harry certainly wasn't going to gift him with it.
He strode from the room and back the way he came, thankful that his memory was good enough to remember the winding way back to the main floor.
As he passed by the Head Goblin, he cleared his throat to get the creature's attention. "Master Goblin, be forewarned that when I attain my key, I will be assuming lordship of my Most Ancient and Noble Houses and removing everything from my vaults. Gringotts will never see me or my descendants from that day forth."
He made to move past the Goblin, but found himself confronted with a woman. She was squat, with a pinched face that made her already unpleasant features ever more unpleasant.
"Pardon me," she said in a high, simpering tone that grated his nerves worse than the Goblin had managed to. "-but may I assume that these… creatures… have been rude toward the heir of a Most Ancient and Noble House?"
"My issue will be dealt with between the Goblins and myself. I do not need the input of some interloper who should learn to mind her own business."
Her face turned an alarming shade of puce, clashing terribly with the horrid pink getup she was clothed in. "Do you know who I am you little beast?" She hissed through clenched teeth.
"No. Should I care?" He asked flippantly, really not caring in the slightest.
Her nostrils widened with her rapidly in drawn breath. "I am Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic himself!"
He scoffed, "And I'm Harry James Potter, heir to the Most Ancient and Noble Houses of Potter and Black, and maybe even some others. Do you wish to make something of this interaction, Madam Umbridge? As I recall, Umbridge is nowhere on the roster for even Noble families."
He'd seen Harish do this to a few people while at work. Harish had worked as the Junior Undersecretary to the Minister when he was alive and he had to deal with a lot of prejudice because he was a Slytherin. Harry had studied these visions closely to help him prepare for later on in life.
Since Dumbledore didn't see it fit to help him at all, he had to help himself.
Bloody Dumbles.
Umbridge was sputtering now, unable to hold her own against one who obviously held more power than she.
"I suggest you leave, Madam Umbridge, you are already drawing a crowd and it is most unbecoming."
The woman huffed and stomped away at a fast waddle, her shoes clicking thunderously on the marble flooring as she retreated quickly as possible.
He glared at her back, feeling a strong level of disgust welling up inside of him. How could a human like that even exist?
Oh wait, the Dursleys also existed. Never mind.
"Mr. Potter," a gravelly voice called from the side.
He found himself confronted with the Head Goblin as well as some Goblins who had been watching the exchange with growing interest. "Yes?" he asked.
"Robrach will be able to see you in his office. He will administer the potion free of charge."
With suspicious eyes, Harry stared at the aforementioned Goblin who had stepped forward at the giving of his name. "Why trust my word now when it obviously wasn't good enough before?"
He received a chilling grin. "We of Gringotts… do not like the Senior Undersecretary. She is quite the… problem for us."
Enemy of my enemy is my friend?
Harry shrugged. If it got him to his funds and into the alley a lot faster, he'd take what he could get… for the time being.
He followed the new Goblin into a much nicer office that somehow put the last one to shame. Bigger, better, and overall it had more welcoming atmosphere to go along with it.
"If you have no problem with the requirement, you will add some blood to this potion and then drink it in one gulp. Exactly. One. Gulp."
Harry took the small vial proffered and then the small dagger. It was a quick slice across the tip of the finger. Fast enough so no blood got on the blade itself. Blood held a lot of a person's magic and leaving it around carelessly would be foolish.
He squeezing the bead of blood and held it over the lip of the potion, watching as it turned red and then green, before settling to a deep, mauve shade.
He slung it back quickly, grimacing at the flavor of dirt.
The parchment before them glowed red as little black lines trailed over it.
Robrach hummed in consideration. "Heir Potter-Black-Peverell. There is a third branch with three small branches coming off of it, but it was not formed by blood relation. Instead, spiritual relation. Congratulations, Heir Potter, you are one of the lucky beings who have been reincarnated. Three times in fact."
Reincarnation?
Wasn't that difficult? He didn't know much as he'd only had one vision of Harish reading a book on it. There wasn't much information about it, it was so obscure.
"This leaves one thing to be rectified," the Goblin continued, snapping his fingers.
The Goblin that Harry had dealt with not even ten moments prior, appeared in the room, head bowed in the direction of who was no doubt his better.
"You caused unnecessary troubles to a very powerful heir, Vaelok. We have many ways of extracting our debts if need be. Your actions could very well have doomed the entire nation!"
And with those words, Robrach took the dagger that Harry had used and slit the Goblin's throat right there. Harry gaped, slightly horrified and amazed all at once as the creature bled out on the marble flooring.
"Gives new meaning to the term cutthroat," he mumbled, ignoring the devious snicker Robrich gave in return.
"Now, I am the Potter and Peverell Account Manager, but to deal with the Black vaults you will have to speak with Ungrok. There isn't much to say in regards to your possessions and heirships. Except…" Robrach paused, pulling a large sheet of parchment out of a file that appeared on his desk.
"Yes, the Peverell Heirship is shared with another. You are only Heir Apparent and as the other is still alive and much older than you, he would either need to gain permission from you to take up the Lordship or defeat you in an Heirship duel. Tom Marvolo Riddle, last of the Gaunt line which is a branch off Cadmus Peverell, who is older brother to your Peverell ancestor, Ignotus Peverell."
Robrach eyed him with curiosity.
Harry shrugged, "I don't really mind. Are we talking about the husband to Harish Hamish Riddle, who I'm pretty sure is my former incarnation that I've been seeing for years?"
"Could you expound on what your 'seeing' means?"
"I have visions as if I am Harish. Burning to death is uncomfortable," Harry said with a shiver at the memory. Looking down at his wrist, Harry held it out carefully and asked, "Can this have something to do with it? I was born with this on."
The Goblin looked at the pale flesh for a few seconds before nodding in what looked to be appreciation. "The general idea behind it is the protection of memories. Then a slow filtering of memories to combine together. Very well crafted… for a human."
He sat back and snapped his fingers for the second time, summoning a much younger Goblin to his office.
This one was more stout and had a longer, pointier nose. His fingers and fangs just as deadly looking however. "Master Robrach?"
"I have your former client's reincarnation sitting before me. I believe he should hear that strange Will that had puzzled so many of us for years. I feel it may make sense now."
Beady eyes turned on Harry and stared at what felt like his very soul, searching for something. The boy wrinkled his nose in discomfort and looked away.
"I believe it is him," grumbled the Goblin in a much deeper voice than was expected of one so young looking.
This Goblin snapped his fingers and handed the summoned scroll to Harry.
He opened it.
This is the last will and testament of Harish Hamish Riddle nee` Flint. I am by no means Imperiused, cursed, confonded, confused, addled, ill, nor have I taken any potions. My mind is my own.
Tom dearest, if you did decide to come hear the reading, know that it wasn't your fault and that I have fixed everything. From now on, any more reincarnations will remember their former lives. I created a very special bracelet of Runes you see, and by their fifteenth birthday, they will remember everything while still maintaining their own personality as they will be their own persons.
I couldn't bare the thought of immortality as you seem to so I could not take that turn with you, but I did my best with what I had.
Please do forgive me and know that I mean you the best. In your eternity, you will not always be alone, for I have ensured that I will always come back to you. A separate letter just for you has been stored away by my Account Manager, should you wish to read it in fuller detail.
The next part of the Will may only be listened to by the Goblins, Tom, and my reincarnation as they should be able to locate him/her in my stead.
Dear So-So-Who-Is-My-Next-Reincarnation,
My name is Harish Hamish Riddle and I am married to Tom Marvolo Riddle-Slytherin. He is also known as the greatest Dark Lord in wizarding history. Lord Voldemort. Do not feel alarmed for my Tom is quite the darling and charming man.
He has a vision and he knows what must be done to see it through.
DO NOT trust Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore! He is the one who murdered my former incarnation simply because Tom was growing attached and he didn't like Tom influencing such an innocent soul. If only that old fool knew what that 'innocent soul' had asked to be taught so that he may deal with the bullies in school. Idiot.
Magic is magic. The Ministry is turning corrupt, labeling anything requiring strong emotion as Dark Magic, but they neglect to realize that considerably powerful Light Magic also requires strong emotion and by their own laws, they should be labeling these are Dark Arts as well, but they haven't. It is a plot that Albus Dumbledore is also included in, to demean all magic that isn't considered Light in nature. You cannot trust the Ministry nor Dumbledore to aid you.
I am not saying that you need to join my dear's cause and be a Death Eater because I certainly wasn't one, but you just need to understand the facts and that siding with someone like Dumbledore will not do you any good.
I hope you will take my advice and my memories and make a suitable decision based on what you learn. My Tom is so lonely you see. He had to wait seventeen years to meet me, not knowing that my incarnation's soul had passed to my newborn body the moment he died. I hope he won't have to wait so long to find you.
And you don't have to be romantic partners. The two incarnations before me were only his friends.
Good luck to you, my dear.
To ease your way, I leave everything within my trust vault, to you.
Take care of my Tom, please?
After his enlightening trip to Gringotts, Harry accepted his Heirships and the vaults he was allowed to take. He then added everything in Harish's vault to his Trust Fund which had gotten a new key made. Only he or his Account Manager could enter.
Now with his new bag that he'd received from Gringotts - free of charge by the way - for the difficulties he'd experienced in the first half hour, filled with hundreds of Galleons, he had a lot of shopping to do.
Madam Malkin's was his first stop and while his clothes were being made, he shopped for his other requirements.
The wand came second to last, where Mr. Garrick Ollivander stared at him for nearly five minutes without speaking, before suddenly smiling and saying, "I knew there was something odd about him. An Old Soul indeed."
And so the two ran through an astonishing number of wands, before Ollivander scampered off to the very back of the shop, leaving Harry to stand amidst the shattered bottles and shredded books that he'd accidentally ruined upon waving each and every wand.
"Here we are! Eleven inches, Holly, Phoenix Feather core," said the old man almost reverently.
Harry's magic reacted instantly, running through the wand which then amplified it and returned it back to Harry's body.
"Curious," whispered the wandmaker.
"How?"
"The core of your wand shares a brother without another core. I remember every wand I have ever created and who I sell them to. Your wand is twin to the wand that gave you your scar."
"Tom Riddle."
His former incarnation's husband/lover? Interesting.
The old man nodded. "I am surprised you know of his true name, not many do."
"I had an eventful day at Gringotts, sir. Seven Galleons, right?"
"Yes. I think… we may expect great things of you, Mr. Potter. I would also advise you to read Greatest Witches and Wizards of the Twentieth Century, page 394, it'll be helpful. You'll wish to be prepared. Trust me."
Harry paid for his wand and retreated form the shop, considering the man's words carefully.
It couldn't hurt.
A/N: Another is done!
-Cutthroat Goblins! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
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