Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything else outside of public domain.

A/N: I have no grand plans for this story. It is going to be a 100k+ word story (by the time I reach December, even, so I have no idea how long this story will be by the time the year is finished, or if I choose to continue it through fourth year). I've sort of being writing it along the lines of "oh, this would be interesting conflict. How would people react if this happened?" And so on. It's a very interesting way to write…

As for this chapter… I'm not going to write the traditional "independent Harry goes shopping" scene. But I won't say no to some major Potter riches…

Chapter 6

Boring Old Gringotts

When Harry woke the next morning, the first thing he thought was he hadn't had a nightmare. And then his eye hurt. Sigh. He couldn't even avoid getting hurt by his ex-best friend! Harry rubbed his eyes and sat up. With a flick of his wand, he quieted the alarm clock he'd set to wake himself and Neville up in time to be ready for the trip. They were scheduled to leave after a fairly early breakfast. Harry parted the curtains on his bed and slipped out in the early morning dusk of the dorm room. Neville had just poked his head out of his bed, and Dean and Seamus remained completely closed off. Ron's bed was empty.

"Hey, Harry," Neville said, his voice still heavy with sleep. He yawned. "Re-e-eady for Gringotts today?"

"No," Harry grabbed some of his better muggle clothes and one of his generic wizard robes that would easily fit over his other clothes. It didn't take him long to get ready for the day, and he did it in fairly effective silence. "But more so than I'm ready for whatever Mary has planned." Neville was still lagging in getting dressed. "See you at breakfast?" At Neville's nod, Harry moved out of the dormitory and down to the spacious common room. Normally, he was awake much earlier or much later, so while he recognized a few of the morning people, he didn't know all of them.

He plopped down next to Ruth Turpin – the sixth year metamorphmagus – and two other girls that he knew he should know but couldn't really quite place. "You're up late," Ruth commented. Her hair was a muted brown that morning and not very stylistically done. She was probably in a not-so-great mood.

"Late?" grumbled one of the girls, "It's pre-eleven am Saturday. What are we even doing up?"

"Oh come on, Temperance," scolded the other girl, "enjoy the morning." She smiled at Harry and put down the romance novel she had been reading. "Your show last night was very dramatic. We should have dramatic stuff more often."

Harry shrugged. "If they didn't exhaust me or make people mad, I'd be game for more." It wasn't really true. He didn't ever what to do something like that again. It had been hard enough as it was, not to mention Ron…

"I'm Sarah," the girl said, "seventh year. You know, we should put a play together. Like, a Hogwarts school play, with auditions and everything." Her eyes seemed to sparkle. "I know I tried second year, but maybe this year, if I get Mary and Emma behind it…" Sarah bounced up and headed for the girl's dormitory. "I'm going to go talk to Emma."

Ruth bashed her head on the table. "Doesn't she have enough on her plate? She's a seventh year!"

"She's Sarah," Temperance retorted. "That's, like, slightly less driven than Hermione."

Harry snorted. He looked up as Kenneth Towler loafed down the stairs and claimed the seat Sarah had just vacated. "You've had a week," Kenneth started, with no introduction. "Name everyone in Gryffindor."

Harry balked. "What? I don't know everyone in Gryffindor."

"You've had a week!"

"A week!"

Temperance snickered. Ruth bashed her head against the table again. "I know everyone," Kenneth challenged, "well, their names, at the very least. Not to mention their blood status or nobility level."

"Seriously?" Harry copied Ruth and bashed his head against the table.

She looked at him for a second before smirking. "Feels good, don't it?"

"I'll steal your runes textbook again," Kenneth said.

Harry straightened. "You wouldn't dare." At Kenneth's just slightly raised eyebrows, Harry knew the older boy would most certainly dare. "Fine… well, there's Emma and William, Percy, Oliver, Sarah, and Eric." That was the seventh years. If Kenneth was feeling really sadistic, he'd make Harry do the last names, which he knew he couldn't do. "Ruth, Temperance and Zachary." He thought that was right. The sixth year boy definitely had a z-name. And then he knew most of the fifth years. "Fred, George, Lee, Angelina, Alicia, you and… and…" there was another girl… Harry closed his eyes, trying to force the name to come to him… "Priscilla or something."

Kenneth stayed expressionless. Ruth opened her mouth, but Kenneth cut her off with a vague hand motion. Harry groaned. "Cormac, Able, Queenie, Katie, Mary, Eliza, Demelza and Dakota. Myself, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Lavender, Pavarti, Dean, and Seamus. Ginny, Andy, Geo, Colin, Zia, Harry and… there's probably more second years. I don't know! Then Paradise, Lily, Vicky, Emerald, Aria, Romilda and Julia. I don't know the first year boys, okay?"

"It took you a week to get all that?" Kenneth raised an eyebrow.

"I'm trying!" Harry complained.

"It's Patricia, not Priscilla," Ruth said, in a rush, as if she were afraid Kenneth would cut her off. "And… I don't really know the under years."

"Harry, Harry, Harry," Kenneth oozed in his patronizing tone. "That's only a fourth of the school. How are you ever going to succeed if you can't even name a fourth of the school?"

"I can name a fourth of the school! Just not one whole house," Harry protested. "And I'm trying in my classes. I'm friends with Anthony and Megan and Wayne and Kevin and Michael and the rest of my Runes class. I am working on it!"

"I know," Kenneth said, in a very annoyingly calm tone. "Just don't get comfortable in any level of success. Your textbook is safe until next Saturday." He left. Harry groaned. Ruth and Temperance looked at each other and started giggling. Harry bashed his head against the table. Twice. This was really not starting out as a good day.

At breakfast, Harry ate little. He was glad that Ron hadn't blacked his eye, because that would just cause more problems, but still, he didn't see Ron anywhere. Professor McGonagall, however, was presiding over the meal and not Dumbledore. That was a little weird.

"I wish I could go," Hermione sighed into her food. "I know I'll still get to go to Hogsmeade, but knowing you guys will be in Diagon sort of takes the excitement away." McGonagall had told Mary and Neville that she only managed to convince Dumbledore to let Harry and friends go was if an extra Hogsmeade trip would be added for that week. It had been announced Friday night, but Harry hadn't honestly been paying attention.

"You'll enjoy Hogsmeade though," Harry demanded, knowing how excited Hermione was to visit the only all-magical village in Britain. A little too excited… but, as Ruth had put it; it was Hermione.

"'Course she will," Kenneth said, sliding down into the seat next to Hermione. "I'll make sure of it." The third year tried to fight a blush and then tried to disguise it as a glare. It wasn't really working. Harry resisted the urge to bash his head against the table. That technique was actually really addicting. He'd have to be careful or he could bash his forehead in, and then he wouldn't have anyone to blame but himself and Madame Pomfrey would go ballistic. Yeeeeaaaah. Just the thought of that quenched the head-bashing urge.

"Harry," Mary called, from the threshold, "let's go!"

He hadn't even noticed breakfast ending, or three of his professors leaving the head table. Harry excused himself from his friends and joined Neville, Mary and Katie. The four students all headed for McGonagall's office, where they'd be flooed straight to Gringotts. Mary and Katie were gossiping over what was apparently a particularly bad breakup between two seventh years, Matthias Reinhold and Adrianne Sampson. Harry really couldn't bring himself to care. A big part of him wished this whole past week had never happened so he could just go back to doing pointless stuff with Ron and Hermione and ignoring that the rest of the school even existed. But then he looked at Neville's eager, honest face and Orion, Caradoc, Aegisa and Flutterbunny and that wish lessened, if just a little. And Paradise. And Runes. And Able. And no Divination.

It had been a good week, just in general. And he really didn't want to give it up.

They reached Professor McGonagall's office in short order. Lupin and Sinistra were already there, both smiling and looking very ready for the day. They wore ordinary wizarding robes, although Lupin's were slightly shabbier than Sinistra's or McGonagall's. "Right," McGonagall greeted the four Gryffindors briskly. "Professor Lupin is going through first and you shall follow him. I trust that I do not need to remind you to be on your best behavior?"

Mary snickered, "You just did, Professor."

Their strict professor did not comment, but rather handed her fellow professor a handful of floo powered. The students all thought they saw a hint of a smile on McGonagall's face; they all knew she loved her Gryffindors. Lupin stepped into the immaculate fireplace and clearly spoke the words that carried him from Hogwarts to Gringotts. McGonagall gestured Katie and Mary to follow him, and then Professor Sinistra stepped through the floo. "Now, you two," McGonagall said, "I've got a pretty good idea of what you've spent so much time talking about, and while I know I'm not any sort of nobility, I must be sure… you are not superior to anyone because of your hereditary rank."

Both Harry and Neville looked affronted. "Of course!"

"Good," McGonagall said. "Now, Mr. Potter." Harry took the proffered handful of floo powder and stepped into the fire. He called the passcode – Gringotts Bank, London – and whirled through the reddish green but mostly brown system of fireplaces. This time, he stayed on his feet when the Gringotts gate spat him out. There was also not a speck of dust on his robes. Maybe fireplaces that didn't throw dust around where of higher class… Mary and Katie were standing together, not far from the gate. A goblin stood next to them, dressed out in what Harry assumed was full regalia. His outfit was just too full of bells and whistles to be anything otherwise.

Neville joined them in short order, followed by the stately professor. When the floo dimmed, the goblin spoke gravelly, and directly to Harry. "Your party is all here?"

"Yes," Harry responded. He didn't get why the goblins had put so much effort into trying to figure out his accounts. Even if he was rich, he couldn't be that rich to actually matter. Besides, he was thirteen! He probably legally couldn't access most of any family riches. His friends regarded the occasion as they would some very formal event. Mary and Neville – as his equals – walked on either side of him, while Katie stayed directly behind them. This seemed perfectly normal to the teachers, who took up positions on both sides and behind the little group.

The goblin led the seven into a dimly lit conference hall off of the main teller's area. "Wait here." The goblin left.

"What are the shopping plans?" Professor Sinistra asked, once the goblin left.

Mary and Katie sparkled. "Wardrobe, mostly," Katie said. "As we aren't sure how much time we're going to need at the bank, and we are on a time limit, we'd thought we'd get through the bank stuff, and if there's time before a lunch break, we could pick up innocuous things, like a wand holster or anything non-wardrobe related. Neville said he'd treat us to lunch at de Lune and after that, we'd just work on the wardrobe." Harry had already expressed his surprise that clothes shopping would take all afternoon.

Dakota, Demelza, Mary, and Eliza had all laughed in his face. Queenie had just smiled and said "be grateful that it's not all day."

"Sounds like a plan," Sinistra said. She wandered around the small conference room. There wasn't too much to see, just a circle table with high backed chairs surrounding it. The light seemed to be ambient – simply wafted up from the ceilings or walls without a direct light source. There were no windows.

The door smashed open – Harry, Katie and Lupin jumped – and three official looking goblins entered the room. One of them carried a stack of far too many parchments. They instantly claimed seats around the table and gestured for the wizards and witches to do the same. Harry sat next to Neville and McGonagall, the people he most trusted as advisors, at least at this moment. "Harry James Potter," began one of the goblins, "our meeting here today is to address the issue of your family's faults and the many bequeaths that you have been unable to claim. Do you have any general items you wish to bring to the table?"

Harry shook his head.

The goblin inclined his head, as if acknowledging that a statement had been made. "You have reviewed our estimate of your liquid assets?"

"I have."

"You have reviewed the list of names that have listed you as a full or partial heir?"

"I have."

"And you have never been given this information before?"

"I have not."

The goblin huffed. "We are still investigating as to the nature of your ignorance. When we find the reason, it shall be rectified." This was just a fancy way, Harry decided, of saying they had no idea why he had been kept in the dark as to his finances and blood status. "The first Will we shall look of is that of James and Lily Potter, of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter." One of the parchments unrolled itself in front of Harry, spreading out most of the table. Most of the Will was boring specifics that Harry had no reference for understanding. In truth, he had to keep from yawning through most of it. All he understood where the three properties – one in Godric's Hollow, a series of diamond mines in Africa, and a house in Greece – and the existence of a family vault that, once everything was finalized, he would finally have access too.

Neville was taking notes. Hopefully he'd be able to explain more of the specifics later.

When the goblin had finished reading through the Will, he paused, just long enough for the Will to roll back into a neat little cylinder. "Are there any questions as to the nature of the Will, Lord Potter?" Neville had explained that the goblins recognized him as the soul benefactor of his parents' will, and, due to their status, that made him a lord to the goblins. It was rather disconcerting. Harry shook his head.

"The second Will we shall examine is the Last Will and Testament of Lady Helena Moorland of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Moorland." A second Will rolled out over the table. Harry exchanged a glance with Katie. His teammate swallowed. This was probably going to be longer than they expected. The Moorland family had been mostly killed off in the war with Voldemort. Lady Helena had been the last surviving member of a noble family that had once owned acres of farmland and forest. In truth, the family had been close to destitute when Lady Helena died. The will came with the title Lord Moorland, a small family vault, and a large piece of unproductive farmland. He'd have to address getting the farm up and running again. Or that's what Harry predicted some advisor might say. He really, really, really, really times seven thousand times did not understand economics.

When they rolled the next Will out, Harry decided they had to be doing the Wills in order from greatest to least important – family wise, that was. An aging Lord Charles who'd survived the war while his sons had not had left the Noble and Ancient House of Aragon to the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry started. Aragon was Spanish or something or other… He filled that away to ask someone about later. The House of Aragon included several thousand liquid galleons, a palace somewhere in the south of England, and a private island somewhere in the Caribbean. Harry was starting to go into overload. He didn't know how to digest this. He really, really, really times seven thousand times did not know how to handle this.

Mary and Neville and the unflappable McGonagall seemed completely unfazed by the seemingly massive amounts of wealth and responsibility that was being thrust upon the boy. Katie, Remus and Aurora, however, watched with steadily growing eyes as Harry struggled to figure out what was going on. He was nobody! He hadn't done anything! It was just misfortune that kept him alive in the first place! Why would all these people leave everything to him? He wanted to run and scream and ask them why? Why?

During the reading of the Last Will and Testament of Lady Verity of the Noble and Ancient House of Fallus, Harry developed a very sever eye-twitch. Too many people had ordered him to not fidget for him to dare move his fingers, but he couldn't control his eyelid. It was terrifying. The vocal goblin paused in the middle of the reading. "Lord Potter-Moorland-Aragon, do you require something?" Harry shook his head, forcing his eyelid to stay still. For once, it listened to him. The House of Fallus came with mostly property. Lady Verity had apparently traveled around Europe buying up many rustic homes and refurbishing them. Harry now, through the Fallus family, controlled medium or small sized houses in England, Scotland, Ireland, Spain, Portugal, Italy, Germany, Austria, Russia, Denmark, Switzerland, Belgium, the Netherlands, and Estonia. She also had two houses in the colonies. There was no money left in the Fallus holdings, but rather a family vault that seemed mostly oriented towards books.

The next two Wills, the goblin only read a partial section, as Harry had only been named as an heir while most of the House's wealth had been donated to notable charities. Still, from the Noble House of Arthure and the Noble House of Enon, Harry received another two houses – one somewhere in Wales and one in Hogsmeade – three family faults, and another couple of hundred galleons. Before the next will, a goblin appeared with ten tall glasses of refreshing looking liquid. Harry looked towards his professors and Neville, just checking to make sure it was okay to drink. At McGonagall's nod, Harry delightfully sipped the cold, refreshing water. In all honesty, he understood why someone – coughDumbledorecough – would keep all this from him. He didn't feel ready for it in the least bit! It was like, overwhelming.

The next Will came from the Noble House of Spinnet. Harry couldn't help but feel guilty about this one. The London mansion and galleons that came with the Spinnet house seemed more than a little tainted. He liked Alicia. And, well, he hadn't ever interacted with Sarah Spinnet, but he sort of vaguely recognized her as a Gryffindor second year. He'd have to see if, as Lord Spinnet, he could transfer his title to Alicia while he was still alive. If not, he'd probably take Alicia and Sarah in as wards or whatever that was that Eliza had tried to explain on… whenever… He had more than enough wealth to take care of the Spinnet girls, and Paradise… That thought nearly lit up Harry's eyes. He could provide for Paradise and himself. They'd probably still need legal guardians or whatever, but maybe he could take Paradise in as a ward! Harry shook himself and tried to focus on the reading of the Will.

After the House of Spinnet came the Noble House of Nanth, the Noble House of Bartholomew, and the Noble House of Carine. These three bequeaths consisted of little more than two more family vaults, a Quidditch team (the Sheffield Shooting Stars) which was jointly owned by the Nanths and the Carines, and - keeping with the astronomical theme – the company that made Comets. The Carines on their own owned a magical construction company. The construction company perked Harry's interest a little. He hadn't really thought about what companies he might have to check into after listening to the reading of the wills. What really struck Harry's name was accepting all these gifts came with formally adding another name onto his own. Harry James Potter-Moorland-Aragon-Fallus-Arthure-Enon-Spinnet-Nanth-Bartholomew-Carine was way too long to use any ordinary setting!

And the goblins still weren't done!

The rest of the Wills weren't from any noble houses, but rather purebloods, halfbloods, or even muggleborns. There was a house in France (he hadn't picked one up previously, which was actually kind of surprising), a law-firm that had long since debunked, and a chain of clothing stores that ran all through magical Britain. And more! Harry listened to it all with a sort of listless fascination. He had started to close in on himself so quickly after the Fallus Will that he wasn't really sure what was going on. The magnitude of it all.

He couldn't help but releasing a breath when the goblin reached the very last will.

This will was so much shorter than the rest, and if the way the goblins had been ordering the wills, it had to come from that of a muggleborn. The Will was brief. 'To H.J. Potter, for saving us: everything." Everything turned out to be yet smaller. A muggleborn by the name of Julia King had gotten caught up in the war and between not managing to hold down a job afterwards… she had died desolate, with only a couple galleons and a handful of sickles in the bank. With everything she had, you couldn't even buy a wand. And yet Harry struggled to keep himself from crying. Julia King had so little… she understood what everything meant.

More than anyone, Julia King would have been able to understand. Harry found himself desperately wishing that he could meet her and thank her and, something.

The goblin rolled up the last parchment and set it with the others. "Do you have any questions, Lord Potter-Moorland-Aragon-Fallus-Arthure-Enon-Spinnet-Nanth-Bartholomew-Carine?" Only the names of the nobility, apparently, were added to his title.

It was the only thing he could think of. "Do I have to go by that name?"

The goblin cackled. It sounded mean and evil. To a goblin, it probably sounded humorous. "No, Lord Potter, you do not."

"Is it possible for me to give one of the titles… estates… to another?"

The goblin snarled. "No."

Harry looked and Neville and McGonagall and then around at everyone else, but none of them seemed to be advising him to do anything. The young Lord looked over at the goblin and waiting for the banker to speak again.

"Here is a portfolio of your vaults numbers and properties and overall assets. The family vaults have not been inventoried. Your vault key has been included." The goblin pushed a thick packet across the table and Harry picked it up. He heard expected the jingle of several keys, but it felt as there was only one. He didn't worry about it. He wouldn't dare ask about it; the goblins probably already thought he was an idiot. "You may leave whenever. If you wish to access one of your vaults, speak to a teller." The three goblins left.

When the door closed, it seemed as if Lupin, Sinistra, Katie, and even McGonagall let out a collective gasp. Even Mary and Neville looked slightly awed. Harry just felt heavy. "Well," Katie mumbled, "I guess that gets rid of any and all money problems."

Neville looked at her she'd grown two heads. "You think?"

o.o.o.o.o.o

When Harry had asked, McGonagall vetoed an inventory of the various family vaults. Lupin supported her. Apparently, the one time he had visited the Potter family fault, it had taken him and Harry's mother some three hours to navigate it and they were looking for one particular thing. Trying to investigate eight vaults would take all day. When Harry inquired about an inspection of his various properties, McGonagall sighed and told him that would probably take way more time than he had available. In the end, Harry, Mary and Aurora had simply taken the ride down to his trust vault, gathered enough money for their shopping trip and rejoined the others in the Gringotts entrance hall.

At that time, it was already close to twelve-thirty. "We're going straight to de Lune," Neville said, when the girls looked like they wanted to jump into shopping immediately.

"We are so not going to have enough time," Mary complained.

Sinistra chuckled, "If anything, you girls can send Neville and Professor McGonagall off to get the practical items while you hold Harry hostage in a clothing store."

Mary and Neville brightened considerably at that suggestion. Harry just winced. He didn't want to go shopping. He wanted to curl into to a little dark whole and never come out. It was just… too much. Harry blinked quickly, trying to control himself. Before he could really think, he felt desperately hungry. The boy hung his head and followed his friends, more resigned to his fate than anything else. If it wasn't one thing, it was another.

His life would probably kill him in a week or so.