Welcome back, dear readers, to "Infinity Keeps Me Alive"
Aw, that's just great.
A New Beginning
It was an ideal day in the little shack, lost on an isolated island in the middle of the ocean.
Except that it was close to midnight, the sun had long since set, wind was blowing, rain poured on the uneven shelter and the air could freeze a Dementor to the bones.
It was a perfect setting for the awakening of a certain recently revived, un-undead undying and soon-to-be wizard.
"HAAAAAAAAAAA!"
Except for the fact that said wizard was completely unaware of that marvellous setting, being way too busy ripping his vocal cords out and waking up the whole neighbourhood.
Thankfully, said neighbourhood consisted of only one Petunia Dursley, her husband Vernon and their son Dudley, plus one well-known soon-to-be wizard – who couldn't possibly be awaken by his own shouts – and a half-giant Keeper of Keys and Ground – who was already awake and presently knowing on, if not downright kicking down the front door.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU FREAK?" yelled Vernon, barging into the room, loaded rifle n hand.
Petunia was following him and immediately threw her arms around her frightened son as the shack shook more and more under Hagrid's assault.
Harry's rational mind – which had been momentarily deactivated by the time travel – waited for the poor door to come crashing on the floor to remember and register his Death's advice. The boy then forced himself to take deep, exaggeratedly long breathes as his oldest friend walked into the hut.
A friend he'd seen in shackles not so long ago, bleeding and hurt.
"Hey there, you wouldn't happen to have some tea around, would you?" smiled his future Care of Magical Creature Professor. "The journey was… difficult."
Merlin, it was good to see him.
Hagrid's arrival upon the little shack in the middle of the night had been memorable. Yes, upon. For someone of the Keeper of Keys and Ground's stature, it wasn't enough to 'arrive at', you had to 'arrive upon', for it had way more impact.
It surely had on the Dursleys.
Anyway, it had gone as Harry remembered it, maybe even a little better. He'd done his utmost best to appear dumb enough for his relatives and the half-giant to lose their calm – his scream had certainly helped with the formers – and things had gone down the drain. Not only had Dudley ended up with a pig tail, Vernon had gained a snout to go with it.
Glorious.
The night had then gone without issues, except for its abrupt end caused by the Daily Prophet's owl delivering Hagrid's newspaper. Harry had hurried to pay her, hopping to go back to sleep for a few more minutes afterwards.
He had failed miserably.
The half-giant had awoken quickly and made his way to the Leaky Cauldron, where the eagerly following wizard-to-be had immediately set eyes upon Professor Quirinus bloody Quirrell, willing host of Tom Marvolo Riddle akaLord no-freaking-noseVoldemort.
The desire to murder the man and his puppeteer on the spot had been great enough for Harry to reach for his wand, only to encounter utter emptiness.
No wand yet, damn war instincts!
Mentally cursing the dark sorcerers to hell and back – for lack of actual cursing – he'd opted for a cold rage. He would have to schedule a cleansing of this filth of a teacher at a later date, hopefully one soon to come.
And now, here he was.
"Welcome Harry, to Diagon Alley."
Hagrid, always theatrical, but could the resurrected man – boy, he was a boy now – ask for a better introduction to the heart of the Wizardry World?
With the numerous shops, the ambient magic and the new generations raiding it on every school year, the Alley definitely was that heart. But more important than the Wizardry World's heart, there stood its weak-spot... Gringotts' Bank.
Walking up the street, the two half-bloods soon reached the white walls of the goblins' stronghold.
Having seen it from the inside-out, guards and dragons included, Harry was glad that the goblins were content with handling currencies rather than armies. He had no doubt that the small yet vicious race was more than capable to raze England to the ground.
"Gringotts." breathed out Hagrid.
Entering the building, the Keeper pointed at a guard.
"That's a goblin. Stay close, don't speak until they allow you to and whatever you do, don't show your teeth, it's disrespectful."
He then walked up to the counter and greeted the employee.
"Morning. We've come to take some money out of Mr. Harry Potter's safe."
"Mr. Potter huh?"
The goblin eyed Harry closely for a few seconds, before hopping down his stool and making his way to them.
"If Mr. Potter would be so kind as to follow me. We need to verify a few issues."
That was new… and potentially risky.
It wasn't his first jump through time, so what could have triggered that unexpected divergence? Could it have been his memories? Did him remembering his previous life somehow show on Gringotts' wards or something? Were the little buggers about to stab him to death with those spears of theirs for robbing Bella's vault?
"Oh... huh, fine. Come Harry."
"No sir, you misunderstood. We want to speak to Mr. Potter."
The half-giant smiled.
"That's fine."
"Alone."
Hagrid's face fell.
"But... I'm not supposed to leave him alone."
He looked torn.
He was following Dumbledore's orders here, and now someone was asking him to override them. He couldn't do that. But he couldn't refuse either, it was well within the goblins' rights to request a meeting with Harry…
Harry watched the man become more and more fidgety, obviously struggling to find an answer he himself didn't have – or knew for sure that he wanted to find out.
However, the goblin quickly took pity on the half-giant, stopped to look scarily at the tall man and bowed ever so slightly.
"I assure you, in the name of the goblin nation, that no harm will be done to your charge, Keeper."
Harry was only mildly reassured.
Hagrid sighed, before resigning himself and bowing back.
"Please, be quick."
"We shall."
The frighteningly silent goblin soon led an increasingly paranoid Harry deeper and deeper into the bank, taking turns every few seconds in a maze of tunnels, ultimately reaching a massive door guarded by two heavily armoured sentries.
The stone doors opened slowly and Harry's guide invited him to go ahead alone.
The young wizard thus set foot in an office where the walls, desk, chairs and books-cases were entirely made of polished white stone.
Two goblins were present.
The one he recognised was the sword-stealing and backstabbing Griphook, his account manager. The second one he knew nothing about, but the small being wore an air of nobility, respect and dangerousness… that goblin was undoubtedly a predator.
Presented with a chair by a mere hand swing, Harry politely sat and tried to appear as relaxed as possible as he prepared himself to dodge any incoming projectile.
That's when he registered that the two goblins seemed not only dead serious, but also… strangely amused.
What the hell was going on here?
"Mister Potter, thank you for answering our invitation." began the unknown goblin. "I'm Bank Manager Ragnok."
The bank manager? Wasn't he the king of the goblin nation, or at least the local warlord or something? He was pretty sure that Binns had mentioned it one day… or had it been Hermione?
"And this is Griphook, administrator of the Potter account."
Something he'd never been told before, what a pleasant surprise. The urge to skewer the thief returned full force.
Swallowing his anger, Harry forced himself to bow.
"Pleased to meet you."
Not a simple matter when you were already seating… and as jumpy as a bloody sphinx.
"Now that the introductions are over, let's get down to business."
Ragnok eyes became piercing and the wizard tensed a bit further, expecting an attack.
"Mr. Potter, the goblin nation is hereby informing you that you'll appear as a seventeen years old to any magical scan conducted, until your physical body reaches that age once again. As it is, Gringotts would now want to know the steps you would like to take regarding your legal status in the Wizardry World."
Harry's eyes almost popped out of his head, the goblins simply smiled.
Well, shit!
"Worry not Mr. Potter, your deal with Infinity Inc. is of no concern to us. As long as you're not making yourself an enemy of the goblin nation, we shall leave you alone."
They knew about the time travel, but not about the vault robbing? Not that he minded, but how was it working exactly? And had he heard the goblin say… Infinity Inc.?
"How do you –"
"Know of them?" finished Ragnok, his grin turning positively ravening. "We're more aware of the ways of the world than what the wizards give us credit for, Mr. Potter."
Infinity Inc. formally ask Bank Manager Ragnok, and by extension Gringotts, to stay silent regarding Mr. Potter's situation.
Of course, his condition being found out by an entire race wasn't enough, his Death had to hijack the conversation with a booming disembodied voice.
Harry sighed, barely comforted by Gryphook's comically panicked bounce.
"Silent we shall be." replied a stoic Ragnok, looking at the ceiling.
Infinity Inc. thank you for your thoughtfulness. May your vault flow with gold.
"May your enemies be crushed." replied the goblin.
The resulting silence stretched out for a few seconds before Ragnok cleared his throat.
"Now Mr. Potter, about your legal status…"
Lord... he was a bloody Lord.
A few documents signed with a blood quill, an official claim for the title, an oath on the family magic and name to always abide by its rules, and there he was. Lord of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter, emancipated – which came with a whole lot of advantages – and in full rights to claim a chair in the Wizengamot. Not that he would do so until he absolutely had too, he still had a cover to maintain after all. Anyway, not bad at only eleven.
Okay, so he'd had to live to seventeen and die three time to enjoy it, but was it that important?
"Lord Potter, now that the matter of your status has been resolved, we need to discuss one last affair."
There was more?
"This is the full list of your family's assets, various investments in stores and companies, both magical and muggle." explained Ragnok, offering a two feet long parchment he'd just retrieved from his subordinate. "As you can see, none of the properties are referenced, Potter Manor having been largely destroyed during the raid that claimed your grandparents lives whereas your parent's house in Godric's Hollow was claimed as a historical monument by the Ministry of Magic."
Goblins sure had a way to dump life-changing news on you.
"Those are mine?"
"They should, unless your parents' wills state otherwise." he nodded. "Which is what I must enquire of you now. Their wills have been sealed by your former magical guardian, Albus Dumbledore. As legal adult and Head of your family, you now possess the authority to overrule this decision."
His parents' wills. Why had he never been informed about them?
"How do I do that?"
"You merely have to give us your approval." answered the bank manager, presenting a sheet of paper covered in runes. "If you would be so kind as to put you hand there and read that phrase aloud..."
"It will be my pleasure. Huhum... I, Lord Harry James Potter, hereby allow Griphook of the Goblin Nation, Manager of the Potter Estate, to open and execute the wills of James Potter and Lily Potter nee Evans."
A tingling sensation spread across his palm and a full hand-print appeared on the document. Satisfied, Ragnok snapped his fingers and a scroll appeared on his desk, seemingly materializing out of thin air.
"This is a magical transcript of the wills." he informed, presenting Harry with the thick scroll. "You're free to keep it. The originals will be kept in the family vault and read before audience at a later date. We will prepare this gathering and owl you in due time."
"Thank you."
"Gringotts pride itself on its customer service." replied the goblin, grinning. "Now, can we be of any further assistance or is our business completed?"
Harry paused.
The bank was renowned for its curse-breakers, right? Could they possibly have a way to deal with his scar, despite horcruxes being a nasty and obscure piece of magic?
It wouldn't hurt to ask.
"… there is one thing." admitted the wizard. "What do you know of… horcruxes?"
Griphook and Ragnok shared a look and turned back to him.
"Not a thing, I'm afraid."
So much for that idea.
"Then perhaps have you heard of a lich's phylactery? It's quite common in muggle fiction."
The goblins' eyes narrowing dangerously.
"You are talking about soul magic."
"I am." he nodded. "Horcruxes are anchors, binding an undead witch or wizard to the material plain through an act of murder."
"What do you seek from Gringotts?" growled Ragnok.
He seemed… pissed, for some reason.
Was he perhaps expecting Harry to ask for his help creating an horcrux?
"A mean to destroy or exorcize several such devices."
"… I see."
Judging from his relaxing stance, he probably had.
"I presume you know of the items' locations? And a mean to destroy them?"
"Well, at the moment, the closest would be my scar." admitted the wizard.
The bankers barely glanced at his forehead.
"Then there's Helga Hufflepuff's cup, stolen from the Smith family and stored in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault –"
Sharp intakes of breath.
"– Salazar Slytherin's locket is kept by an… interesting house elf in the Blacks' ancestral home, Voldemort's school years diary stands in Lucius Malfoy's dark collection, the Gaunts' ring is buried underneath their old shack in Little Hangleton and Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem is hidden in a secret room in Hogwarts." he enumerated. "They can be destroyed with Basilisk venom or Fiendfyre, but…"
"You seek another way."
"I'd rather not die, yes."
The manager seemed to ponder his words for a moment, stroking his chin.
"… you're putting Gringotts in a rather uncomfortable situation." he concluded, sighing. "Most of the places you listed are simply inaccessible for us, with perhaps the exception of the Gaunt shack."
"And Bella's vault?"
"We're not supposed to know what is stored by our clients." denied Ragnok. "Entering that vault and retrieving the cup would be a breach of our contracts with the Ministry."
"Can't Lord Black simply claim the cup back?"
"Not if the cup wasn't part of Miss Lestrange's dowry, no."
"… what if she died?"
"Her possession would then be distributed between Rodolphus Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy nee Black."
After them, it would go to Rabastan, Lucius, Draco and only then to Andromeda or Sirius. Meaning that if he wanted to legally put his hands on the cup, it would take one hell of a lot of illegal homicides.
"Besides, there is no Lord Black as the only candidate is currently –"
"In Azkaban, under false charges of murder. Something I plan to rectify soon."
The bankers' eyes grew wide.
"Are you certain of Mr. Black's innocence?" stammered his family manager.
"Positive."
The goblins cursed, before quickly conversing in their native language.
"I will see to it." finally said Griphook, rising from his seat. "Lord Potter, it was a pleasure."
"Likewise."
'you backstabbing bastard.' went unsaid.
The oblivious goblin smiled and left the room.
"This is going to be a political nightmare." sighed Ragnok. "But we appreciate the heads-up."
"You're welcome."
"Now, in regards to your cleansing, I'm afraid that Gringotts is once again unable to help you." carried on the remaining banker. "Our curse-breakers have never encounter an horcrux before and though we do have a ritual that could work on a phylactery, it would be unwise to use it on a living subject."
"Couldn't it be modified?"
"I suppose it could..." he acknowledged. "But it would undoubtedly take years, decades perhaps."
Decades that he didn't have.
He would either have to find something else or ask for that ritual and work on it himself.
"I will… take my leave and think this through." nodded the wizard. "Thank you for your time, Bank Manager Ragnok."
What had Infinity Inc. said earlier?
Oh, yes, something like…
"May your vault flow with gold."
"May your enemies be crushed, Lord Potter." smiled Ragnok. "Come, I will accompany you back to the great hall, your guardian has waited long enough."
"So, first year right?"
"Yes mam."
"He'll need standard issue robes, plus winter ones and a hat." weakly said Hagrid from the door.
"Sir, I've supplied Hogwarts for years, don't you ever question my expertise." warned Madam Malkin.
Thankfully, the door closed on the Keeper before he could muster an answer. Still, Harry couldn't resent him for being out of it. Between falling asleep in the bank's hall and being shaken to death in the cart, you had to wonder how the poor lad wasn't sick yet.
"Now come dear, let's see what I have for you." carried on the squat woman, dragging Harry by the arm and dumping him on a footstool, right next to... oh no.
"You're starting Hogwarts too, right?" asked a clear voice.
Damn it.
With all the time he had spent in the bank, he had been sure to avoid Malfoy Jr. for the day. Not that he was actively avoiding him, it was just a happy accident. But the cosmos had a twisted sense of humour as proved his current stool-neighbour.
"I'm Daphne. Daphne Greengrass." provided the girl, offering her hand.
There was no escaping Slytherins, apparently.
Well, screw you too cosmos.
"And you are?"
Of every wizard and witch in magical Britain, he just had to walk into the bloody Ice Queen, the one girl with distinctive shoulder-length curled blond hair and piercing steel grey eyes whose words could control the entire Slytherin House more efficiently than Draco's whimpers ever could.
Not that she'd ever done so, mind you. He'd just always believed that she had a… presence of sort, something that made others look up to her, despite her icy personality.
Well, no time to whine. He had to make a good first impression on his future housemate, a reeeally good one.
The witch's eyes went wide when, instead of accepting the handshake, Harry bowed lightly and planted a small kiss on her hand. When the wizard brought his head back up, he was smiling devilishly at her, the same way he'd seen Sirius do sometimes.
"I'm Harry James Potter, but my friends call me Harry. A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Greengrass."
She eyed him for an instant, partly shocked partly calculating, before replying in a much more formal and somewhat pleased tone than before.
"A shared pleasure, Mr. Potter."
Was that genuine?
Harry honestly didn't know, but he assumed that his attempt at a proper Slytherin behaviour – the exact opposite of Draco's usual boasting, basically – had worked, because Daphne was now sporting a completely unexpected – and honestly unnerving – smile.
The wizard found himself wondering how the friendly – and somewhat adorable – witch before him had turned into the indifferent, frozen beauty he remembered.
"All done dear." chirped happily the young woman adjusting Daphne's robe, cutting short Harry's train of thought.
"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts then." said the witch, voice oddly warm.
Harry replied just as cheerily.
"I surely hope so."
Slytherin…
He was going to be busy.