Aftermath - Chapter 9 - The Inheritance

Now Harry was fully awake. "My parents?" he said in shock and Ginny just nodded her soft brown eyes full of worry.

"He said it was about them, and it was important, but didn't say much more."

"A solicitor…is that what he called himself?" Harry asked, wondering what in the world was happening now.

"Yeah…that's a Muggle word, isn't it? Like a legal counselor?" Ginny asked and as Harry said yes she continued. "Actually, I think he's a Muggle."

"A Muggle? Ah…how do you know?"

"Well, for one thing, he arrived in a car. And for another he's got a computer. Least I think it's a computer, but it's very small and it folded open like a book."

"It's a notebook computer, a portable one," Harry said. "He's a Muggle all right. Tell them I'll be down in five minutes."

But Ginny didn't move as Harry got out of bed. "But, what could this be about your parents?"

Harry was stumped. "Don't know," he said as he reached for the top button on his pajama top, and then paused. "It's been…been almost 17 years since…since…"

He stopped and an overwhelming feeling of sadness took hold. He slumped back on the bed and Ginny wrapped her arms around him and kissed his left cheek, her lips feeling warm and soft. "It's going to be all right. Just get dressed and come down when you are ready," she said, gave him another kiss and then left the room.

Has it been 17 years? Harry thought as he changed clothes. He never knew them, not really. Despite the pictures he had of them, all the stories he had heard about them, and the brief glimpse from professor Snape's memories he had seen, Harry never really knew his parents. And now a strange man was asking to see him to tell him something about them.

The man was sitting at the kitchen table sipping tea with Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, and Hermione when Harry arrived, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. The man was white, not old, maybe about 30, and he had medium length curly brown hair and was dressed in a light grey summer suit with white shirt and necktie. A laptop computer was opened in front of him on the table. He kept looking around, his face puzzled, at the family clock on the wall, at the fireplace, at the ceiling, at the walls.

"So, it's the latest model is it?" Mr. Weasley was saying, standing by the kitchen sink and looking out the kitchen window at what Harry was sure was this man's car.

"Ah, no, a few years old," said the man in a soft, pleasant voice. "But it still gets excellent mileage."

"Ah, yes, mileage," Mr. Weasley said, as if he knew a lot about cars. Then he frowned. "What's mileage? Ah, here's Harry now."

The man stood. "Good morning, Mr. Potter. I'm Sydney James, solicitor for Smith, Robinson, and Cook, legal firm in Godric's Hollow."

Harry shook his hand and they both sat down as Mrs. Weasley started to get Harry a cup of tea. Mr. Weasley also sat down, looking very interested in Mr. James' computer.

"Godric's Hollow?" Harry said and knew it was about his parents.

"Yes. Charming spot. Do you know it?" Mr. James asked.

"I was born there, but I don't remember it," Harry said, knowing it would be very difficult to explain about his only visit to Godric's Hollow to this man. "Are you here about my parents, Mr. James?"

"Yes. But, I need to ask you some questions first, to make sure you are who you say you are."

"Oh. Okay. Go ahead." Harry said, a bit puzzled, also seeing puzzled looks from the others, all wondering why this man needed Harry to prove who he had said he was. Harry said thank you to Mrs. Weasley who placed a cup of tea in front of Harry and then sat down next to him, a worried cast to her face.

"Ah, sorry, but is it possible to have more privacy?" Mr. James asked and Harry saw Mrs. Weasley's face instantly changed into a scowl and Harry knew she was about to go off on one of her tirades so he spoke quickly

"No," said Harry, suddenly feeling a dislike for this man. "I'll tell them everything later anyways so they can stay."

"Right, sorry about that. Legal matters, you understand."

"Of course. Not to worry," Mr. Weasley said calmly.

"So. The questions. Your full name?" Mr. James asked Harry as he looked at his computer screen.

"Harry James Potter." After Harry spoke Mr. James typed at his keyboard.

"Date of birth?"

"July 31, 1980."

"Parents names? Mother's maiden name, please."

"James Potter and Lily Evans."

"Blast," Mr. James swore softly and then saw the astonished looks on their faces. "Oh sorry, just my computer's battery has run out." Indeed the screen had gone dark. "Mind if I plug in somewhere?" he asked looking around hopefully for an electrical outlet as he dug the cord out of a black breifcase by his chair and plugged it into the back of the computer.

"Ah, we don't have electricity," said Mr. Wesley said slowly, trying to get the pronunciation correct.

"Sorry? No electricity?" Mr. James asked in surprise.

Hermione jumped in, seeing Mrs. Weasley about to shout at this Muggle who thought something was wrong with her house. "This is more like a country home and we are roughing it, so to speak."

"Ah, I see," Mr. James said. He fold the computer, put it and its cord back in another black bag he had by his chair and then took out a pen and notepad from the first black briefcase. "I'll just do it the old fashion way. So parents' names, got it. And now, sorry, but, date of parent's death?"

"October 31, 1981," Harry said glumly.

"Right. And guardians' names?" he asked next as he wrote.

"Harry's of age," Ginny said. "He's an adult and doesn't need a guardian."

"Sorry, but Mr. Potter is only 17 and will come of age his next birthday," Mr. James said. "So I must have the name of his guardians."

"Right!" Hermione said, a little too loudly, as she saw the Weasleys about to protest. "People come of age when they are 18 years old. Right, Harry?"

"Right," he said back. "Ah, guardians, Vernon and Petunia Dursley, Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. That's my uncle and aunt."

"Ah, yes. Good. Their name and address were in the file about you. I went by there a few days ago, but no one was home. But they know you are here, correct?"

"Yes, of course," Harry lied, certain nobody wanted to explain to this Muggle what the real truth was. Then he realized what Mr. James had just said. "What file?"

"All in good time, all in good time," Mr. James replied as he took a sip of tea. "So, ah, yes. I meet a nice elderly lady, a Mrs. Figg. Said the Dursleys were traveling and you were staying with friends while you finished school. Seemed quite reluctant to give me this address, but finally she did so."

"Right," Harry said, getting impatient. "She's my neighbor. So sorry, but could you get to the point. Why are you here?"

"So, it seems you are the Harry James Potter I have been looking for."

"Yes," Harry said and he could feel the growing impatience from the others around him.

Mr. James put down his pen and looked at Harry. "About three weeks ago one of our partners died. His name was Wilbur Smith and he was quite old, so it was no shock that he passed of heart failure. Odd fellow, fond of wearing capes and carrying a riding crop. Least I think it was a riding crop. Very secretive chap, popping in and out of the office at odd times. Well, anyway, he was well liked by all, and will be missed. Now, as the most junior member of the firm I was assigned to take care of Mr. Smith's unfinished business. Seems he had only a few clients for decades, all in five families with ties to Godric's Hollow, some still living there, others throughout Britain. Your parents were one of them."

"My parents had a solicitor?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Oh, yes," Mr. James said. "There was a file concerning your parents. In it was a copy of their will. Said you were to inherit all of their possessions. But there was no follow up information about whether the wishes of your parents had actually been carried out seeing as you were so young at the time of their…well…their death. So, here I am."

"What…what exactly did it say? The will."

"Well, here it is," Mr. James said and from his black case he pulled out a rolled up parchment and handed it to Harry. "Most peculiar, written by hand in ink on a piece of parchment. But I assure you it is quite legal."

In awe Harry took the scroll and opened it. There was a lot of legal words at the top and middle in someone else's handwriting and then at the bottom his mother and father's names and signatures. Harry felt a lurch of grief as he looked at it.

"So…what does it say, Harry?" Mr. Weasley finally asked what everyone wanted to ask him.

"Just that I get everything they own," Harry finally said and that's what it did say, but there was no list of items.

"Yes,' said Mr. James. "Which is why I am here. Everything included all of their possessions. I take it your uncle and aunt have given you these possessions over the years."

All Harry had every gotten from the Dursleys were rotten presents, miserable treatment, and a poor upbringing. From his parents the only thing tangible he had received was his father's Invisibility Cloak, which Dumbledore had given him his first year at Hogwarts. Oh, and their gold in Gringotts.

"Yes…yes…they did," Harry lied, and his face turned a little red, more from burning anger than from telling a lie, wondering what his wretched aunt and uncle had done with his parents' other possessions.

"Good. There are some strange things, though," Mr. James continued as he wrote something on his notepad. "There were some notes attached to the file and one of them mentions a bank account and vault number with a key. But there was no key to be found and the bank name, Gringotts, it doesn't exist, I am afraid."

"Maybe it's a foreign bank," Hermione said quickly.

"Possibly," said Mr. James. "I'll look into it."

"I'll take care of that, when I come of age," Harry said and Mr. James just nodded.

"Very well, if that is what you wish. You may always contact our firm if there is any trouble over this issue. Now, there is one more matter and it is that of your parents' property in Godric's Hollow."

"Their…property?" Harry asked, slightly shocked. Did he mean their house?

"Yes. They had a piece of land at number 12 Stonewalk Road. There was a house, more like a country cottage I was told, but it was destroyed when…when…"

"They died," Harry said. The house wasn't gone, just damaged, and it was protected by magical enchantments so Muggles couldn't see it.

"Yes," Mr. James said, feeling a bit embarrassed. "But, the land, it's yours when you come of age at the end of July. Quite a valuable spot, could be worth a lot."

"I'm never going to sell it," Harry said steadily.

"Of course, that's up to you," Mr. James replied.

"Where's the deed to the property?" Hermione asked, wondering if wizard's even had such things.

"At the office," Mr. James replied to her. "It was also in Mr. Smith's office which is how we found out the lot belonged to the Potter's. Mr. Potter, you may pick it up and take possession of the property when you are 18 years old." He took out a business card with his name and the office address on it and handed it to Harry. "Oh, and bring some identification when you come. One of those legal things you know."

"Identification?" Harry asked in puzzlement.

"Yes," Mr. James said. "You know, driver's license, passport, birth certificate. That sort of thing.."

"Right, no problem," Harry said quickly, not having anything of the sort, but thought it might be too hard to explain that to this Muggle.

"Ah, I will need the will back," Mr. James said. "For the record, you understand."

"Yes," Harry said as he reluctantly handed it over, and then had a thought. "Could you make me a copy?"

"Certainly. Where shall I send it? Here or Privet Drive?"

"Ah…neither. I'll come to your office and pick it up. I want to have a look at the land anyways. Maybe next weekend."

"Splendid," Mr. James said. "So…our business here is finished. Thank you so much for the tea." The last comment was for Mrs. Weasley, who smiled pleasantly, even though Harry could tell she didn't like this Muggle.

"Not at all," Mrs. Weasley said as pleasantly as she could manage. "You are welcome to stay for lunch." Harry knew she really didn't want him to stay for lunch, but it was the polite thing to ask him.

"Thank you, but I have imposed on your hospitality enough and my wife will worry if I am gone too long. In fact, if I could just use your phone to give her a quick call, tell her I am on my way home. I'll make it collect, no worries."

"We don't have a telephone," Mr. Wesley said, slightly embarrassed. "There is a telephone box in the village."

"Ah, yes, country home," Mr. James said looking around, the puzzled look returning to his face and then he smiled at Mrs. Weasley. "Very lovely. Well, again thank you, and I look forward to seeing you again, Mr. Potter."

He stood and Mr. Weasley showed him outside and Harry guessed they were looking at and talking about his car, since the engine didn't start right away, but after a few minutes it began to rain and soon the car was gone and Mr. Weasley had run inside, a big smile on his face.

"Imagine that! A real Muggle! In our home!" he said with uncontrolled joy and then stopped as he saw the look on his wife's face.

"If he's an example of the rest of them then he is the last one we'll ever invite into our home!" she said and then looked at Hermione and smiled. "Of course, your parents are not included, dear."

"Ah, thanks," Hermione said, not feeling insulted at all as she herself felt more at home with wizards and witches than Muggles.

Then they all started talking immediately about what happened and how Harry now had two houses.

"But, it's damaged and maybe irreparable," Hermione said, and they all knew the story of Harry and Hermione's visit to Godric's Hollow last Christmas..

"Only one way to find out," Mrs. Weasley said. "You need to get a magical architecture firm to look it over. They'll know if it can be salvaged."

"I think I have a bigger problem," Harry said. "I have no identification."

"I don't understand the need for such a thing," said Mrs. Weasley in a huff as she started cooking a late breakfast for Harry. "If it's your house and land then it is yours, Harry. Everyone knows who you are, my word. What's with Muggles and identification, anyway? We certainly don't need such things. As if anyone would believe a piece of paper with a picture on it anyway."

"Muggles believe it," Hermione said. "It's necessary because some people try to fool others, trick them, take their money or pretend they are someone they are not."

"Muggle criminals, you mean?" Mr. Weasley asked, seemingly very curious, as he was about all Muggle things.

"Oh yes, we have quite a few of those," Hermione said, and then had a thought as she remembered something. "Odd that Mr. Smith worked in a Muggle legal firm. By the sounds of it he certainly was a wizard."

"Yes, that was odd," Harry added, then returned to the subject at hand, looking at Hermione, who was the most experienced of them with Muggle affairs. "So, how do I get some identification?"

"You can apply for a passport," Hermione said. "It's quite easy and only takes a few weeks to get it."

"Do you have a passport?" Ginny asked her.

"Yes, for years now," Hermione said. "I've been to France with my parents. And I certainly couldn't go to Australia next week without one."

"How can I get one?" Harry asked.

"You can apply at a passport office or at a post office," Hermione said. "All you need is the application form, two photos, a copy of your birth certificate, copies of your parent's birth certificates, and their marriage license."

"But I don't even have my own birth certificate, let alone any documents of my parents." Harry said in frustration. But then he suddenly had a thought and his face fell. "But I bet I know who does."

"Who?" Ginny asked. "Not the solicitor. He would have said something or given the papers to you."

Harry sighed. "No. Not him. My aunt and uncle."

"Of course!" said Hermione as if she had just solved a puzzle.

"Looks like I'll have to pay a visit to Privet Drive," Harry said glumly and they all knew he had no desire to that at all.