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Harry Potter
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The Bounty
Ch 2
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NOTES: Thank you i am getting better, just a slow process. Hard part is sitting for a long time hurts my stomach. Will be glad when its fully healed. Good news, i lost so much weight (60lb) that i dropped from 340 lbs to 280. Now if i can loose another 50 i'll be happy. Yes there is more to this story and hope you enjoy it. I have ch 3 finished and most of 4. Part of 5 is written as well.
If you leave a comment, PLEASE sign in so you can get a response or if you do leave a comment have it where I can email you back. I don't comment on all reviews, but I do read them and some stand out that need a response.
This will probably be only about 4-5 chapters and I have the first 13k written. Enjoy.
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Harry jerked awake at his Aunt screeching. Getting up he exited his trunk and went to the door where he listened to what was going on. Hearing his uncle bellowing and stomping up the stairs, he went back to the trunk and descended inside as he pulled the lid down he heard his uncle unlocking all the bolts on his door that his Aunt must have locked when he was sleeping. Going into the kitchen, he grabbed a soda out of the fridge and went back to the couch where he sat down. Popping the top of the can, he grabbed the top book off the stack that Patrick has suggested he looked at the title and the post-it-note.
Harry, this is what Voldemort would do if he's allowed to do as he wishes to people who oppose him and his Death Eaters or he determines they are not worthy of magic. I think you will find as you read this book, you will see where he gets his ideas. Remember this, a great man named Edmund Burke once said, 'All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.' If we do nothing, then Voldemort wins and this will happen again. I also want you to remember this famous saying by an actor for a Great American General in the movie Patton, 'Now I want you to remember that no bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. You won it by making the other poor dumb bastard die for his country.' And this goes for Dumbledore also because he would rather sacrifice his own people then allow them to take out the Death Eaters like they should be. Remember this, you capture one of them, and he breaks them out. They kill one of your friends, and that person is gone for good. So as Patton says, make the Death Eaters die for that dumb bastard and allow your friends to live.
Good luck,
P
Harry grimaced as he cracked open the book that was title 'Grindelwald's part of Treblinka and the Magical Death Camps.'
Harry was able to read for over an hour, the disgust in him building until he reached the part of the book that showed the pictures and they were magical pictures. The book went flying as he ran for the bathroom where he dropped to his knees and threw up everything in his stomach from his breakfast. Tears ran down his face as the images flashed through his mind and he hurled again. Wiping his mouth on a towel, he flushed the toilet and staggered to the kitchen where he grabbed a butterbeer from the fridge along with a box of cookies before sitting at the table.
"By Merlin's hairy ball sack, he has to be stopped," Harry stated as he took a sip of his butterbeer.
Ten minutes later and a half box of Oreo cookies Harry was back on the couch finishing the book he had started. His stomach was still churning, but he kept the food down and ignored the picture section as he read. An hour later, he set the book aside and grabbed the second book and saw it was on the dark lords of the last two hundred years and what they had in common. Harry read late into the night and fell asleep on the couch with the book across his chest.
Harry woke up at the sound of the chimes from the clock on the wall. Stretching, he caught the book as it started to slide of his chest and sat up with a yawn. Opening his school trunk, he searched for some clean clothes and grabbed them. Going into the bathroom he stripped and climbed into the shower. For thirty minutes he stood under the hot water thinking about the two books he had read. Of them the first was disturbing but the second one had him thinking on the dark lords and how they had tried to take over and how the European magical world took so long to rally to fight them while the Americans and Pacific Rim Nations took only days because the Americans and Pacific Rim Nations put the bastards and their followers down permanently.
Shutting the water off as he stepped out of the shower to dry off. Harry was thinking on what he could do to stop Voldemort but wasn't sure what he could do to stop him from causing the same problems as last time he was around. With clean clothes on, Harry went into the living room, grabbed a book before heading into the kitchen where he started making himself breakfast. As his food cooked he read about his family background. As he ate his breakfast, he learned he was the last of the Potters and at the age of thirteen he could have declare himself head of house and been emancipated. That he had a seat on the Wizengamot, and controlled twenty votes with another forty through alliances. His family was also ranked as an Earl with the title being the Earl of Anglesey, which to the muggle realm was extinct and that gave him the twenty votes on the Wizengamot.
Closing the book on his family history, Harry grabbed another book off the stack and grimaced when he read the name, 'Politics of the Wizengamot' by Alexander Blake. Opening the book, he sat back in his chair and read. For the next thirty-six hours, that was all he did. Read, eat, and sleep his way through the books in the stacks.
After three days of being in the trunk, Harry climbed out and checked to see if he had any mail. Seeing a few letters lying on his desk where they had been dropped he picked them up and went back down stairs into the trunk to read the letter.
The first letter he picked up was from Hermione and Ron.
Harry,
How are you doing? Are you sleeping? Eating? Remember what happened in the graveyard is not your fault. As to what's going on with us. We can't say much about you-know-what, obviously... We've been told not to say anything important in case our letters go astray... We're quite busy but I can't give you details here... There's a fair amount going on, we'll tell you everything when we see you...
"What the hell? That's it? Nothing about what Voldemort is doing? Nothing from Dumbledore or what he is planning? It looks like Patrick was right. If anything is going to be done, I'm going to have to do it," Harry stated as he dropped the letter on the coffee table and grabbed the one from Sirius.
Hey Pup,
I know this must be frustrating for you... Keep your nose clean and everything will be OK... Be careful and don't do anything rash...
"Rash?" Harry snapped out in anger and threw the note down and started walking around the room. Anger building up in him, finally he went into the bedroom and grabbed his wand, cloak and a baseball hat, "I'll show them rash," he snarled out as he went up to his old bedroom and closed the trunk. Shrinking it down to the size of a matchbook, he picked it up and threw his cloak on and went to the door.
"Damn it, they locked me in," Harry said as he stood there trying to figure a way out of the room and then started laughing. Looking through all the junk in the closet, harry found what he wanted, a screwdriver and Dudley's broken cricket bat. Using the screwdriver, he tapped the pins out of all three hinges and pulled the door open.
Heading downstairs, Harry pulled the cloak on again and went to the front door and started to pull it open and stopped when he heard the sound of keys. Stepping to the side, he waited as his Aunt came in with several grocery bags. Slipping out the door before she could close it, he headed down the walk to the sidewalk where he turned towards the park.
Stopping at the entrance of the park, Harry looked around to see if anyone was looking. Seeing no one, he pulled off his cloak and tucked it into his pocket as he pulled the cap out of his back pocket that Patrick had given him to hide his scar. He then held up his wand and the summoned the night bus. A few seconds later he smiled as the two decker bus appeared and the door opened. Stepping on, he said, "Leaky Cauldron," before Stan could say anything he handed him a galleon and walked to the beds.
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ooOoOoo
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Harry held onto the post for one of the beds as he jerked from the sudden turns and swerves of the bus. Five minutes after he climbed aboard he went flying forward on the bus as it screeched to a stop.
"Leaky Cauldron," Stan shouted out.
Harry scrambled to his feet and was the first of ten people who climbed off the bus. With his cap pulled down low, Harry entered the Alley behind the people who had exited the bus. Heading for Gringotts, Harry listened to the people talk and most of the talk he heard was bad mouthing Dumbledore and himself. While he didn't care about the talk about Dumbledore, the lies about him wanted to make him scream in anger. Reaching the bank, Harry didn't even look at the writing on the doors as he entered the main lobby he looked around the room for a free teller.
Spotting a teller that only had two customers in line; he walked up behind them and waited for the ones ahead of him to finish their business. Finally the second person left and he stepped up to the teller. Reading the name, Harry almost laughed as he said, "Good morning teller Snortface. I would like to speak to my account manager."
"Your name?" the teller asked.
"Harry Potter," Harry replied.
"Key please," Snortface replied as he snorted.
Harry pulled his key out and placed it on the counter and the goblin picked it up and looked at it. Setting it down, he called out, "Ripjaw come here."
Harry watched as a goblin came to them and then Snortface was speaking in Gobblygook to the other.
"Mr. Potter, follow Ripjaw and he'll take you to your account manager," Snortface said.
Picking up his key, Harry replied, "Thank you. May your gold multiply and your enemies tremble at your feet."
"The same Mr. Potter," Snortface replied and then said, "Next."
Harry followed the armored goblin through the bank and down a narrow passageway. Harry noticed the torches flickering as they walked passed them and he felt as if he was being watched. Looking around closely he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. Coming to a stop at a closed door, he waited as the goblin went inside.
"Come in Mr. Potter," the goblin said as he opened the door.
Harry stepped in and Ripjaw closed the door as he exited. Behind the desk was a short heavyset goblin.
"Mister Potter, welcome. I'm Goldfang, and I have the pleasure of being your family account manager. Please have a seat, we have much to discuss," Goldfang said as he stood up.
"Thank you," Harry replied as he sat down.
"What may I do for you Mister Potter?" Goldfang asked as he sat back down.
"Call me Harry, please and as to my business. First do you believe Voldemort has returned like I said last month?" Harry asked.
Goldfang leaned back in his chair before answering, "Very well Harry. Now as to your question, I don't know if he has returned or not. Could you provide a memory so I can review it?"
"How do I do that?" Harry asked.
Goldfang opened his drawer and pulled out a box. Opening it, Harry saw that it had a dozen glass balls inside.
"These are memory orbs. You first need to think of the memory, and then place it against your forehead. The magic of the orb will copy the memory you want into it so it can be reviewed," Goldfang said as he picked up one of the orbs.
Harry reached out and took the orb. Looking at it, he closed his eyes and thought back to the third task and placed the orb against his forehead like he was told to do. In his mind, Harry saw himself going through the maze until he he reappeared back at Hogwarts. Opening his eyes, he lowered the orb and saw it was now bright silver.
"Thank you, Harry," Goldfang said as he held out his hand.
Harry placed the orb in Goldfang's hand and watched as he placed it against his forehead. Harry waited patiently as Goldfang viewed the memory and after ten minutes the goblin lowered the orb.
"Thank you, Harry. That explains a lot. Now how can I help you?" Goldfang said.
"I would like to claim my inheritance," Harry replied.
"You can only claim it when you come of age at the age of sev…"
With a smirk, Harry interrupted Goldfang, "I am of age."
"You're only fourteen going on fifteen," Goldfang said.
"Yes I am, but I can prove I'm of age," Harry replied as he reached over and picked up one of the orbs and placed it against his forehead.
Goldfang watched the future Lord Potter and wondered what he was up too.
Harry lowered the orb and handed it to Goldfang, "This will prove I'm of age," Harry stated.
Taking the orb, Goldfang placed it against his forehead and watched the memory and then he gasped out in surprise, "Those idiots," he said as he lowered the orb, "You're correct Lord Potter. You're an adult now," as he opened a desk drawer and brought out a small black walnut box and slid it across the desk to Harry.
"What's that?" Harry asked as he looked at the box.
"That is your ring. You may not know this, but you're descended from nobility. Your family line goes back to the Earl of…"
"I'm Earl of Anglesey, I know. I have a book on my family," Harry stated.
"Good, very good that you know some of your family histories," Goldfang said as he pulled out a folder and set it in front of himself, "Well try it on."
Harry looked at the beautiful box inlaid with silver and gold. Reaching out he opened it to see a silverish ring with a red ruby in the center that was about an inch long. Picking up the ring, Harry looked at the ruby and inside the gem; it looked like there was a griffin rearing up with a flagstaff in its mouth.
"Harry, if you do this, and the ring doesn't accept you, you could be seriously…"
Harry took the ring and slid it on his ring finger on his left hand. Warmth spread from the ring and into his body which started tingling from the magic of the ring. Suddenly more pain than he had ever known radiated from his scar and his hand came up to clamp on the old wound. Blood started trickling down his hand and arm as he screamed out.
Goldfang was startled when Harry screamed out in pain. Before he could get out of his chair, the Potter heir had fallen out of his chair clutching his famous scar as he watched blood trickled between his fingers and then a black mist drifted up and vanished as another scream was heard. Touching a rune engraved on his desk, he summoned a healer as he moved to the boy to check on him. Kneeling beside the boy, he found him unconscious from whatever had affected him.
The door banged open and two goblin healers burst into the room. Seeing their patient on the floor they knelt beside him and started waving their hands over his body.
Goldfang stepped back and let the healers do their job. When one stopped his magic and opened one of the bags he was carrying he asked, "What is wrong with Lord Potter."
"What isn't wrong is the better answer. He is malnourished, has brittle bones from the malnutrition. Someone had placed prison blocks on his magic. He has multiple tracking, and monitoring charms. He has basilisk venom in his blood along with phoenix tears, and he seems to have just recovered from an attempted soul possession," the healer stated as he started pulling out vials.
Harry groaned and his eyes fluttered open, "Oh my head."
"Welcome back Mr. Potter," the healer said as he helped Harry up.
"Thank you, but what happened?" Harry asked as he slid back into his chair.
"Harry, if I had known, I would have had the curse breakers here to look at your scar. It seems it was a soul anchor for Voldemort. When you placed the ring on your finger, it shattered the link, freeing you of his possession of you…"
"What is a soul anchor?" Harry asked.
"A soul anchor or a Horcrux is an object that has been enchanted to hold part of a soul. With this done, the person has no fear of death because the Horcrux anchors them to this world and it can be used to possess a person who handles it…"
"I wonder if the diary in my second year…"
"Your second year?" Goldfang asked.
"Yes, there was a diary that was possessing Ginny Weasley and causing her to release a basilisk in the school," Harry stated.
Goldfang held up the box of orbs and asked, "Can I get the memory of it. I can let you know if it was one."
"Sure," Harry said as he picked up the orb and thought back to just before he entered the chamber. With the memory clear in his mind, he pressed the orb to his forehead and let the memory flow into the orb. When he was finished, he handed it to Goldfang,
Goldfang watched the memory and then laid the orb down on the desk as he stared at Harry, "As you humans like to say. Holy fucking shit! Not only was that a Horcrux, you killed a thirty meter long Basilisk with a sword. Is the body still there?"
"Yes, it's still there. Probably rotted away by now," Harry replied.
"I seriously doubt that. It will take many years for the corpse to even begin rotting away. With your memory, we can recover the corpse for you and render it down for say the meat of the snake. It would be a delicacy for my people. The rest of the body we can sell for you and I'd suggest you keep at least twenty-five percent for your own use," Goldfang said as he pulled a folder out and quickly copied it, "Now this is your portfolio of what you own, how much money you have, your investments and a suggestion on investments," as he handed the second folder to Harry.
Harry took the folder and sat back in his chair, "I agree with the deal on the basilisk, but I want fifty percent of the sales to go to the ones affected by the snake and Tom Riddle. Ten percent goes to the surviving family members of Moaning Myrtle as the only casualty. The rest divide up among the survivors," Harry said.
"Harry, I think that would be more then amenable," Goldfang replied as he opened the folder in front of him and said, "Now to your finances."
"Thank you," Harry replied as he opened the folder and gasped out at the amount of money in the Potter estate and asked, "Is this correct?"
"As of this morning, yes to the last Knut. You earn a modest seven percent on most of your investments per dividend and as you can see which comes out to around one hundred thousand Gallons per quarter. We reinvest three percent per quarter as dictated by your father before his death. In the last twelve years, you have made just under thirteen million gallons with eight million reinvested…"
"Holy shit! I own stock in the Daily Prophet?" Harry gasped out.
"Yes, you own sixty-six and a third percent of the newspaper as well as twenty-one percent of the WWN…"
"I thought the ministry owned the Daily Prophet?" Harry asked as his mind was racing with ideas.
"They own the remaining thirty-three two thirds percent of the paper. They have been trying to buy out the Estate for the last ten years, but we have refused because it's a major market for your family and only you could authorize the sale," Goldfang said.
"I have a wicked idea. Can you get the chief editor over here," Harry asked.
"In a heartbeat as you humans say," Goldfang replied as he quickly wrote a note on a piece of parchment and tapped it.
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ooOoOoo
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Harry was sitting talking with Goldfang when there was a knock on the door.
"Enter," Goldfang ordered.
Harry watched as a heavy set wizard walked into the office.
"What is the meaning of summoning me here?" Barnabas Cuffe demanded as he stormed into the office.
"You we're summoned for a reason Mr. Cuffe, the owner of the paper doesn't like the slander you have been printing against a child," Harry snapped out.
Barnabas felt the blood run from his face as he blurted out, "The owner? But… the ministry owns the paper…"
"Yes, since I own sixty-six and a third percent of the paper which is double what the ministry owns, then I own the paper, and I'm quite pissed at what you have been doing and it stops now," Harry said as he picked up his butterbeer and took a sip.
"Who are you?" Cuffe demanded.
Harry watched as the man started to imitate Uncle Vernon. "The name is Potter, Harry James Potter of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter," Harry replied as he allowed his Lord ring to become visible.
"Oh shit!" Barnabas stammered out.
"Yes, Oh Shit is right. Now I want you to get a photographer and a writer over here that will sell out in one printing and it better not be Skeeter. You will also stop your attacks against me and Dumbledore or you'll be looking for a new job. Do you understand me?" Harry demanded.
"Yes, Sir, I'll get our number two team right over here," Barnabas replied.
"Make sure the photographer has a camera that can take pictures from a pensive," Goldfang said as he watched the human heading for the door.
"Yes, Sir," Barnabas shouted as he ran from the room.
Harry looked at Goldfang and started snickering, then laughing.
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Edit By Deenara. Cass63
Final Edit By TeNdErLoin
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Harry Potter™ is a registered trademark and copyright (©) of JK Rowling and all that crap. The only thing mine is the idea and several characters. Everything else is hers including all the money...