It took me nearly two days to work up the courage to open that envelope. When I finally did, I discovered that it contained another thick envelope, two sheets of parchment, and a key.

The first parchment was a letter to me.

Hannah,

Please don't hate me for this, but I just don't have it in me to give it—any of it—to anyone else. You're not in my will, honey, because my family expects to receive everything I own. They practically wrote the bloody will. But I don't own the contents of this envelope any more; I've already signed them all over to you, to do with as you please. I do hope you'll keep them, as it would break my heart to see those bastards ruin everything I hold dear. I know you'll take at least as much care of this as I did, and possibly even more. Thank you, Hannah, for everything you've done for me these past three years.

With Love,

Tom

It broke my heart: Tom was giving me his most prized possessions, to keep them away from his family. The second parchment had a Gringotts letterhead emblazoned across its top and was addressed to Tom.

We are writing to confirm the transfer of your Gringotts account number 9274, with all contained funds and treasures, to a Miss Hannah Abbott. As per your wishes, you may inform her of the transfer yourself. She will need her wand and your key to access the account, and may transfer them to her own—or transfer her old account to this new one—as she sees fit.

Thank you for your business.

It was closed with several important-looking signatures, none of which I could read. The key in the bottom of the envelope was old, stamped with 9274—Tom's Gringotts account. He gave me his Gringotts account, with "all contained funds and treasures." His family was guaranteed to hate me for this.

The enclosed envelope scared me the most. What was so precious that Tom would feel the need to seal it again? With shaking hands, I opened it to reveal a deed: the deed to the Leaky Cauldron, in my name. Behind it were the papers proving that Tom had legally signed the entire business over to me. Folded into these papers was a large brass key—the key to the owner's suite, the only one I didn't already have.

I was honored. I was terrified.

For the first time in my life, there was nothing I needed more than a day off. And there was no time less convenient to take it.

So, this chapter's challenge: How will Tom's family react? (HINT: "They'll be furious" won't cut it. Give me some specifics.)