A/N
About Snape: I've added a number of sentences to chapter 24.
No, Snape is certainly not a nice guy and he'll never be. He's not a (classical) hero. And most of his faults are… his own faults. But also James and Sirius aren't the heroes Harry saw in them (or hoped them to be). Roxanne only wanted to show Harry that most of the time a person has several reasons to behave like he does, that it is not so easy to decide who's the good guy and who's the bad one. N Flamel called it "shades of grey".
"Own tendency, Lucius' influence and the push of Sirius' deed: Which part had which influence?"
That's my main question about the intellectual development of Snape. We'll never know. Yes, Harry wasn't the same; he didn't give in to all the pressure. But: Harry is the hero of this story, so there has to be something special about him. If struggling against dire conditions would be so easy, how could you call someone heroic "only" for being successful in the struggle?
Snape's behavior as a teacher is disgusting and it is certainly mostly his fault again. But: Shouldn't Dumbledore be blamed too? What is more disgusting: A young teacher (I assume Snape didn't change much in the past decade) running amok in a hated job (a job he never wanted and only accepted on Dumbledore's pressure) or a Headmaster with decades of experience allowing him to do so unopposed despite better knowledge?
Blacksaiyan: Thank you for Beta-reading.
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Boiling rage and cold fury
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Ministry of Magic – 23rd of December – Midmorning
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Even the bleak prospect of having to endure that prick of a Ministry official again was not enough to quench the good mood of Roxanne Greengrass.
He said yes, Roxanne cheered silently. He has forgiven me. He'll accept the adoption. He's still together with Daphne. The silly grin never left her face as she watched the young couple. Something had changed, but changed for the better. Harry was walking at Daphne's side, hands clasped most of the time. Several times he had hugged her and twice she had observed a stolen kiss. Perhaps she should be afraid that there would be 'The Talk' with her daughter in the near future, but in the moment she was simply too happy.
"We have a little spare time before our appointment," Agatha suddenly interjected, forcing her daughter out of her daydreams. "Why don't we settle that little present shopping you had in mind, Hermione?"
Hermione blushed as all began to stare at her. She nodded weakly: "Okay."
With more than one puzzled look, her friends followed Hermione to Eeylops Owl Emporium. Stopping in front of the shop she turned towards Neville.
"You know that I like Trevor, right, Neville?"
Neville only nodded, looking completely confused.
"He's a very nice… toad. But he often… you have often… you lose him and… it is complicated."
Agatha smiled as she watched how Hermione struggled with words. It was a bit disappointing when Harry bailed her out too fast: "She wants to tell you that it would be better to leave Trevor at home where he has enough room, plants and water around, and where he would be happier." Hermione had told him about her plans and he had happily agreed. Too often Neville had been the target of jokes and insults because of Trevor.
Relieved Hermione agreed: "Yes, exactly. He would be happier there. And… and because you're allowed to have one pet at Hogwarts I thought I could buy you an owl instead. As a Christmas present, you know?"
Anxiously she waited for his reaction. For a while Neville stayed silent, his face blank, pondering. Then he smiled, instantly reciprocated by Hermione's own. "You're right. He'll be happier. We have ponds there and many plants and insects and all. I really would like my own owl." The following shout of Hermione was more of a squeak as she hugged Neville happily and entered the emporium.
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Ciddy had been called to bring Mandy – Neville's new owl – home. Harry shook his head, slightly amused that Neville, former paragon of shyness and silence, had chosen the owl with the loudest and most screeching voice. Hermione had instantly suggested the name Mandragora and Neville obviously liked the name – if only because of Hermione and his love for plants. Mandragora, or Mandy for short, was a medium-sized and a bit ugly owl. She looked like she had been in more than one fight with other owls before and her stare was impressive enough to cause shudders. But Neville was happy and so Hermione was too.
Walking up to the entry desk at the Ministry of Magic, "Your wand please," said the desk official in a bored tone. Harry couldn't blame him. His job could certainly serve as a reminder that a good NEWT was important. Coincidentally, Harry didn't know what thoughts had just crossed Hermione's mind: "Look there, Ron, your next stop after school. Perhaps they'll allow you a fake Auror badge."
Yeah, it was awful to think so, Hermione pondered. But it was honest too. Ron had two dreams about his future professions: Professional Quidditch and Auror. While Quidditch could be possible, perhaps – Hermione didn't know enough about the sport to be able to really judge his talent, or lack of – she knew quite well that his school performance would never be good enough to be allowed into Auror training, especially now that he had been able to break up with the one person who had pushed him through the exams so far: Herself.
"This way, Hermione," Neville whispered and locked arms to drag her into another corridor. "Are you daydreaming, or only hoping for more physical contact with me?"
"How cheeky are we today, Mister Longbottom," Hermione grinned. "An unknown side of you, I have to mention."
"Hem hem… behave," Roxanne scolded mockingly and pointed towards a door.
"Where's Agatha," a blushing Hermione asked, only now realizing that they somehow lost Daphne's Grandma underway.
"Fetching someone," Roxanne answered without really explaining anything. Her face switched from happy banter to bored and irritated seconds before she opened the door to the object of her 'hate of the hour': Mister Barnaby Thorpolt, first secretary of the Under-Department of Family Matters. For a second the thought crossed Harry's mind that he would have to learn this face control too in the future. Luckily, for today, he was only present as an observer.
The following quarter hour was exactly like yesterday. Roxanne tried to convince the official that she wanted to settle the matter within the next week and that she certainly didn't wish to fill all these papers – containing agreements of Harry, the Dursleys, the School of Hogwarts, Mister and Misses Chepoundatee – no one knew who the hell they could be – and a number other Ministry officials including two janitors. Alright, perhaps she was a bit nasty to call them janitors but they seemed unimportant enough.
Interesting enough Mister Thorpolt stayed very friendly and patient the whole time. He seemed to be not very impressed by the growing irritation, frustration and anger of the lady in front of him. Instead it appeared that he enjoyed the whole matter, enjoyed it a little bit too much. Someone really had instigated him, Harry pondered.
"You know," Daphne whispered in Hermione's ear "we could simply hex him. A painful rash at his bottom, an itch on his back, a little bit of a headache…"
"Yeah, that would be nice and certainly convincing," Hermione whispered back.
"I don't like that look on the faces of our girlfriends," Harry mentioned to Neville.
"You only now realize that you ought to be really careful not to piss them off?" Neville asked back with a snigger, prompting his girlfriend to send a calculating and amused look in his direction, her all too sweet smile sending shivers down his spine.
Luckily the farce ended before something – rash – happened. Agatha Pinegrew entered the office, followed by none other than Amelia Bones, Head of the DMLE and perhaps the most well-known and certainly most feared Ministry Official around. Mister Thorpolt's demeanour instantly switched into grovelling and smooth-talking. "Good morning, Misses Bones. Happy to see you, Misses Bones. How may I help you, Misses Bones?"
He even had the audacity to try to evict Roxanne and the teenagers, suddenly staring at them as if they were an especially ugly kind of insect.
"No, Mister Thorpolt, actually I'm here because of my very dear friend Lady Roxanne Greengrass," Amelia purred, in a voice way too sugary to be believable even for a tosser like Thorpolt.
He blinked heavily as realization sank into his brain slowly. At the same time, all blood left his head and his knees buckled. Fortunately Harry reacted fast enough to push his chair behind his back, allowing him to save at least a very small amount of dignity instead of crushing down to the floor.
"Your very dear friend…" Thorpolt croaked. "I… I didn't know."
"Ah, it's not really important, only a small anecdote. On occasion I should tell you how it happened that my favourite niece owes Lady Roxanne's daughter" she pointed towards Daphne who showed her friendliest smile "a life debt."
Now the very last rests of blood left his face. Life debts were a very serious matter and absolutely everyone at the Ministry with any hope to get promoted in the next decade knew about Susan Bones and how important she was to her Aunt. This situation could easily turn disastrous to his career.
Harry pondered: Life debt? He would assume that it wasn't really the case. A life debt normally came into existence when someone rescued another person, like he had done with Ginny in the Chamber of Secrets. Not that he ever wanted to call in that debt. But on the other side Susan had nearly killed Hermione with the poison and it was only luck that Daphne never drank from the bottle. Without her noticing the smell… suddenly Harry paled too. He never had realized before that this damned bottle could have been the death of Daphne too. And without her immediate help it could have been too late to rescue Hermione. Susan Bones would have faced a murder charge and even with a non-guilty verdict it would have besmirched her reputation for decades to come. So what Amelia Bones said wasn't a lie, but a mere exaggeration of facts.
Suddenly Thorpolt went out of his way to be helpful. Most of the papers weren't really needed – suddenly those persons had only to be informed and not forced to agree – and others could be waved with Amelia's consent. Hermione had seen such a scene once before. Her father had tried to get a letter of permission and the official had been very unwilling. At least until father called one of his patients at the dental practice: The Mayor.
No more than thirty minutes later, Thorpolt had all of the needed papers ready and with Amelia willing to testify the case file…
"I congratulate you, Harry Potter-Pinegrew, for your adoption and new magical guardian." Light-heartedly Harry accepted Amelia's congratulations and the hugs of Daphne, Hermione and Neville. He tried to ignore Thorpolt's crawling and looked at Roxanne.
"You have to decide how you want to call me, Harry. Roxanne would be okay but also all forms of mother and Mum. I don't want to replace your mother but you really belong to our family now. It is left to you."
"I'll," Harry hesitated "I'll think about it."
Roxanne smiled softly and Daphne declared: "You should try it with Roxy."
Roxanne glared at her daughter: "Never Roxy or I'll rock you a little."
Amelia Bones, who had silently watched the happy exchange, suddenly turned to Thorpolt again, her friendly voice now switching to her feared ice storm demeanour: "And now Mister Thorpolt we have to discuss the reasons of your former behaviour." Her words nearly caused Thorpolt to faint again.
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Office of Amelia Bones – Noon
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"Dumbledore?" Hermione was shocked.
After her small but deadly inquisition of Thorpolt, Amelia had led the small group – without the very unhappy and newly demoted official – to her office.
"Dumbledore," Harry sighed. "We should have expected something like that." The man he had trusted for years had again tried to influence his life in an unwelcome way.
"Agatha and I did," Roxanne explained. "That's the reason why Mum asked Amelia for help. But to guess something is different than to hear it."
"Not only hear," Amelia added, waiving Thorpolt's sworn statement. Amelia had ordered him to make his statement with a magical quill active. His signature along with Amelia's turned the protocol into a sworn statement. "I'll store it away should we ever need it. Here, for you…" She passed a copy to Roxanne.
"But what really incensed me was the reason," Roxanne growled, her glare promising death and damnation. Harry battled hard to suppress a snigger. Yes, the reason, he would be angry too.
Mister Thorpolt, all in all a very talented and ambitious official, had been at odds with Lucius Malfoy a few years ago. Apparently Lucius had been behind Thorpolt being passed over at the chance of a very important promotion. Thorpolt never forgave him his meddling. A few days ago now Headmaster Dumbledore contacted Thorpolt and innocently asked if Lady Greengrass had already been there, Lord Malfoy's very dear friend. With the friendship of Cyrus Greengrass and Lucius Malfoy reasonable well known, Thorpolt had only to ask some colleagues to 'get proof' of Dumbledore's silly comment.
"Lucius' dear friend," Roxanne growled again. "I'll give him Lucius' dear friend, right up in his…"
"Roxanne, language," Agatha stopped her daughter, her broad smile a bit diminishing the impact of her reprimand.
"It is only important that we have both contracts now," Harry said. "Thank you very much, Misses Bones. Am I correct that this means Lady Greengrass is now my legal and magical guardian in the Muggle and the Magical world?"
"Yes, she is. We still have to send the papers to the Muggle Office. But with the permission from your Aunt Petunia Dursley that Lady Greengrass already got last summer, from this hour on Lady Greengrass is your guardian."
"I have to thank you too, Amelia," Roxanne added. "That man was really grating on my nerves. I don't know how long I would have been able to suppress my urge to hex him. Before we go, I have another question and a small request."
"Go on."
"Could you please explain to Miss Granger the process of magical guardianship at Hogwarts for a Muggleborn witch?"
Amelia slowly nodded. She assumed that Roxanne knew the regulations, but wanted Miss Granger to hear it out of her mouth, officially so to say. "Alright. Miss Granger, when your parents allowed you to visit Hogwarts, they additionally agreed to the regular settlement of magical guardianship. Until twenty years ago this would have meant that the Head of your House – in your case Professor McGonagall – would be your guardian. Only a very small number of students – mostly heirs of the most important families – were traditionally assigned directly to the Headmaster. But twenty years ago this had been changed by Headmaster Dumbledore.
Now it is the other way round. The Headmaster is the magical guardian of all Muggleborn and Muggle-raised – like Harry – students, as well as of any orphan. He only transfers a small amount of his rights to the Heads of the Houses – like subscribing the Hogsmeade visit slip. All important matters he has to settle himself."
"But I wasn't allowed to visit Hogsmeade last year," Harry furiously interjected. "Headmaster Dumbledore told me that he needed the permission of my Uncle."
"No," Amelia shook her head. "That was never the case. Traditionally the Heads of the House like to have the permission from the parents – I'm sure that Minerva wanted one from the Grangers too – to avoid any problems, but it is not legally needed. Whereas I have to add that you're a special case. Headmaster Dumbledore put you in that small group of school wards, so Professor McGonagall had no say in the matter."
"We have solved the matter of Harry now," Roxanne started. "Would something similar be possible for Miss Granger? Perhaps only the magical guardianship?"
Hermione threw a surprised and confused look at Roxanne, slowly turning into understanding. "You mean… you could be my magical guardian too?"
"I… or perhaps Lady Longbottom," Roxanne affirmed. Now it was Neville's turn to look flabbergasted. "She already indicated interest." Neville and Hermione shared looks of surprise and joy: Augusta the magical guardian of Hermione?
"I don't see any problems there. Lady Longbottom is certainly able beyond any doubts and would be a fabulous magical guardian."
"And," Roxanne continued "could she extend the guardianship to Miss Granger's parents too?"
Hermione was baffled. Why would her parents need guardianship?
"It is unusual but still perfectly legal," Amelia shrugged. "I'll advise Mister Thorpolt's successor to send you the required papers. I heard Lady Longbottom will be your guest this Christmas?"
"Yes, she'll be there and the Grangers too." Roxanne addressed Hermione now: "I don't want to catch you unaware, Hermione, but you should think about it. Lady Longbottom is not only a very nice lady, but also an extremely respected member of the magical society and a strong-willed person. She would back you up against everybody. And with the magical guardianship about your parents she would be allowed to order some protective wards for your parent's home. We'll speak about it later with her and your parents, okay?"
Hermione nodded weakly. Suddenly her role had changed from silent observer to participant. She glanced at Neville. To her relief her boyfriend smiled. The thought of his Grandma being her guardian seemed to please him. She would be able to protect her parents, Hermione grinned.
"Now we handled the question. What about the request?"
"Harry and Daphne are already allowed to cast spells at Pinegrew Manor. Would it be possible to get a special permit for a training room, to allow them lessons with a few of their friends, especially Miss Granger and Mister Longbottom? It is really only of interest for the next two summer breaks, but my mother and I would like to use those weeks for some additional training."
"I'll have to check this, but basically it should be possible. Naturally you would be responsible for every spell cast therein. But yes, I think we can allow this."
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Gringotts Bank – Late Afternoon
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Two hours later they were ready to make their second important visit of the day, their second visit to Gringotts. This visit – so Roxanne hoped – would be far better and more informative than the one yesterday.
They had used their downtime for a small lunch, during which Agatha taught the teenagers the basics of Goblin etiquette. As a business woman she had much more contact with the Goblins than her daughter and had met a large number of very different Goblins so far. Similarly to Wizards and Witches there were variants, differences between Goblins. Large or small, old or young, hasty or slow, bored or interested – but they all had two things in common: They were competent in their job and they were unfriendly.
The Goblins had lost the war against Wizards centuries ago, and had been forced to obey a number of rules they didn't really like. Most Wizards considered them to be a kind of lower creatures and there was certainly not much love between the races. On the other hand Goblins held a very important position in the Wizarding World: Banker and financier. They were important and they knew it. No reason to behave ungoblinish. So the story Roxanne had told Agatha about this special Goblin called Griphook had been disturbing. It was too close to the behaviour Ministry official Thorpolt had shown hours ago and it was completely unnatural for an account supervisor.
"Good morning, I would like to see Master Wyvernclaw please. My name is Harry Potter-Pinegrew." Harry addressed the young Goblin messenger at the entrance of the large room. Half a dozen sheds allowed the Goblins who were working in this room some privacy, enhanced by a number of silence and protection spells. Agatha had explained to him that these were Senior Accountants, responsible for very important families and superiors to a score of 'lesser' clerks who had to deal with the riff-raff.
"Griphook's father had been sitting over there," Agatha whispered while they waited for the young Goblin to come back. "Apparently his family is on the decline if they transferred his son to the great hall." They had seen Griphook in the larger Hall together with two score other clerks, his desk very small and old.
The young Goblin returned and led them to one of the sheds. A very old and grizzled looking Goblin was awaiting them, a number of scars proving that he hadn't always been an accountant. Perhaps his name wasn't simply for show, Harry mused. The Goblin grimaced as he noticed the two women accompanying the boy.
"I should have known that this day would be a terrible one."
"Don't fret! I'm not here to control your work," Agatha countered. "You'll still have a few days to polish your books." Flabbergasted the teenagers watched the exchange. Only the tiny smile on Roxanne's face told them that there was nothing unusual about this.
"As if you could to find even the most blatant embellishments," the Goblin scoffed at her.
"Perhaps I should choose another, a more trustworthy accountant. But today I'm here because of Mister Potter." Agatha gestured Harry to step forward.
Harry was nervous. He had spoken with Agatha about this visit and, in theory, he knew what he had to do. But still… even Agatha wasn't completely sure how Wyvernclaw would react to his request. It was unusual enough but without his help it would be very difficult to claim his rights.
"Master Wyvernclaw," Harry bowed slightly, trying to hide how uneasy he was under the glare of the old Goblin. "My name is Harry Potter-Pinegrew. Lady Roxanne Pinegrew is my adoptive mother and magical guardian." He put the papers proving his claim on the desk.
This certainly fetched his interest. Wyvernclaw glanced at Agatha and on her short nod he turned back towards Harry and suppressed any emotions on his gnarled face. Interestingly enough he ignored the papers. Agatha's nod seemed to be proof enough for him.
"My parents, James and Lily Potter, opened a number of accounts at Gringotts. As their sole heir it is in my interest to keep track of these accounts. Regretfully I've never received an appropriate economic training and I'm in dire need of qualified help."
"Most Wizards are barely able to convert Sickles to Knuts without help, so your request is understandable. Griphook is the accountant in charge of the Potter accounts and vaults."
To bow, to beg for help, to be polite – these were a part of the reasons that only on rare occasions a wizard tried to get the help of a Goblin in business things. The second problem was the very real chance that the addressed Goblin denied the request, especially in cases like this one, as Harry wanted him to control the work of another Goblin.
"Griphook is certainly a very talented and imaginative accountant." Imaginative – to call a Goblin imaginative could easily be understood as deceitful. "But I hoped to get your help in the matter as the documents seem to be very complicated." Complicated in this context could only mean that Harry accused Griphook of hiding his embezzlements with a mountain of paper and numbers.
Wyvernclaw stayed silent for a long time, glaring at Harry. Luckily Agatha had warned him not to look away and never to look down. He had nothing to fear or hide; he had to show his courage and honour.
"I hope the work will be worth my time." Harry translated this words to "you'll regret your request if I don't find anything." Hopefully they had been right; hopefully Griphook had something to hide behind his friendliness, and not only an ungoblinish mentality.
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Two hours later
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They had occupied another room. The sun had set a while ago; the other clients and accountants had already left the bank. Only a small number of restless clerks were still at work, Wyvernclaw being one of them. He had sent his assistant and two bearers – Harry translated to "guards" – to fetch Griphook and all documents regarding the Potter family after he had very carefully studied the adoption and guardian papers. Trust was one thing, but controlling the work of an accountant without legal rights was something completely different.
A small table, half a dozen chairs and some tea – that was the place where Harry and his friends and family were waiting. A few steps away Wyvernclaw was residing at a very large table and examining the documents. A very unhappy Griphook stood at his side and waited for a chance to explain them. For the most part the examination had been completely silent, only broken by very few, very harshly worded questions, answered instantly and a bit whiningly.
At last Wyvernclaw looked up, his face announcing his disapproval. "We'll speak about this tomorrow, Griphook. I expect some convincing arguments about why you decided that these applications could be anything else than dragon dung. Work of this quality is certainly not appropriate to get you back to the desk of your father. I'm disappointed."
That he expressed his disappointment in English was an even greater hint of Griphook's trouble than the words itself. With his head hanging he left the room, unable or unwilling to even mumble a word of goodbye.
Silently Wyvernclaw organized the papers, before he looked up again, straight at Harry, and gestured him to take place at the desk across of him. Roxanne got a seat at his side while Agatha stayed at the tea table with the teenagers. Her role had ended with Wyvernclaw's willingness to help Harry. Wyvernclaw had been her accountant for more than twenty years and she trusted him as far as a Witch could trust a Goblin. Their little banter about embezzlements was well-studied and well-meant. She knew that he hated bad work nearly as much as fraud. In his former occupation Wyvernclaw had learned that the smallest slackness could cost a life and he saw no reason why it shouldn't be the same here.
"Mister Potter, I have a number of news for you. Some are good, others are bad and quite a number… well it depends. We'll need a bit of time to sort through all of this. There are several accounts we'll have to examine and every account has different rules, especially regarding your access to them."
He put a first paper on the table, headed 'Harry Potter School Trust'. Interestingly it wore not only Griphook's signature but also Wyvernclaw's.
"This is the smallest account but likewise the only one you have full access to," he started to explain. "Fourteen years ago your mother and your godmother had been here at my desk to open school trusts for Miss Daphne Greengrass and you."
"Lady Greengrass told me so," Harry complemented. "That I never received any allowance in the past decade had been the reason of our first visit. Until a few weeks ago I didn't know about the existence of any inheritance worth mentioning."
"I understand. As you see it is the traditional school trust with no specialties. It is used to pay for your years at Hogwarts, all school equipment and your monthly allowance." He pointed at several positions of the paper. Even Harry was able to understand that there had been the expected transfers of 50 Galleons each month since begin of the school like Roxanne had told him a month ago. Before school the transfers had been lower but all in all 4,200 Galleons had been withdrawn in the past decade as allowance only. The money had been transferred to another account under the direct control of Dumbledore.
Dumbledore, Harry hissed. He had crotched his allowance for nearly a decade and while the sum wasn't a fortune he would have been happy to get the money, if only to be more generous with gifts and buy appropriate clothes. He had to pay back the allowance Professor McGonagall had given him in the last years, Harry promised himself, and if only that she was able to help others in the future again. Perhaps there were more students in dire financial need among the Gryffindors. While he didn't like Ron anymore he strongly remembered the first day when Ron hadn't been able buy any sweets on the Hogwarts' express.
"School material 500 Galleons per year are a bit high," Roxanne interrupted his thoughts. "I'm certainly not niggardly but my daughters don't need this sum together. And that's the wrong school charging rate. Mother? 2,000 Galleons is the rate used for wealthy Muggleborn, isn't it?"
"What?" Hermione interjected. "There are different charging rates?" She knew that her parents paid exactly that sum and that it put a real dent in their purse despite the very well running dentists' office.
"Regretfully yes," Agatha assented. "They differentiate between rich and poor – certainly acceptable – and between Muggleborn and Wizardborn. The reason is meant to be that Wizardborn contribute more to the Wizarding world, pay taxes to the Wizarding world etc. But regardless of whether this is reasonable and fair or not: They used the wrong rate. These 2,000 Galleons – that's the highest possible school rate. Harry should pay far less."
Harry's eyes had started to blaze since Wyvernclaw confirmed Roxanne's suspicions regarding the monthly allowance. Allowance withhold, charged too much for his school materials and transferred the wrong rate – it added. But still it made no real sense, this nit-picking, this small scale embezzlement.
"Why all this trouble?" He asked. "Yes, this is quite a sum but still… if someone wants to scam me, why on this level, why not a huge sum? Steeling my pocket money? That's Kindergarten level."
"Possibilities of access," Agatha explained and Wyvernclaw agreed.
"Your parents opened four accounts at Gringotts. The administration is very complicated and even your magical guardian – until today Headmaster Dumbledore – has only limited access to the money. Your mother had been very careful in her safeguarding. This is your smallest account and still the embezzlements add to a sum of around 10,000 Galleons. At least, if I consider these payments too. I assume you never received additional training before the school? According to these documents you paid 2,500 Galleons for advanced training from the age of seven to eleven."
"Only if you call starving, beating and shutting up in a box a kind of advanced training," Harry growled back.
Roxanne had feared his reaction prior to this visit, had feared that his anger would dominate him. But apparently the last months had changed him more than expected. Yes, he was angry, deathly angry even, but he was able and willing to control it. Revenge is a meal best served cold. This seemed to be his motto of the day and Roxanne was glad about it.
A few steps behind Hermione thought the same. Replace Ron the irascible with Neville the good-hearted, add a pinch of Daphne the caring, let the mix simmer and wait a few months… et voila: A new Harry. She really liked this new side of her best friend.
"We should be able to roll back these transfers easily. I assume that I'm not going out on a limb if I promise that you'll have access to these 10,000 Galleons within a week. As they had been part of your school trust, you'll have more or less complete control over the sum. Your guardian has to agree only if you want to spent larger amounts at a time."
Harry beamed at the news. He would really have his own money now. 10,000 Galleons wasn't a fortune but certainly more than enough to pay back his debts with Roxanne and Minerva, the salary of Remus and a number of smaller wishes. And he could pay his half of the twins prank shop contract.
"Aside from your school trust there are two larger accounts – one each belonging to James and Lily Potter – and a number of documents regarding the inherited real estates."
Harry sighed. This was going to be a long night.
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Pinegrew Manor – after midnight
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Beaten to death Harry dropped into his bed, his arms unwilling to spend the energy to pull the blanket over his body. Six hours? Yes, they had spent six hours at Gringotts – two hours waiting, four hours explaining and making some of the decisions he had to do – certainly not all of them, only a small part. In the week after Christmas he had to visit Wyvernclaw again and finish their business, especially about what to do with the "Lily Evans Foundation".
The Foundation had been… no, it hadn't really been a surprise. He should have expected something like that from his mother. Perhaps his father's character was more difficult and complex than he had hoped before, but from everyone he had heard the same stories about his mother and her compassion. That she had planned to share her wealth with others was a wish he intended to continue and to honour.
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150,000 Galleons – that was the sum Wyvernclaw told him, the sum found in Lily Evans-Potter's vault. The greatest part of it had been her dowry – never spent as she had been killed too soon after the wedding, with much of her last year of life spent on the run. A similar worth had the company shares she owned. Much of his anger about the fraud had died away as he noticed the names and descriptions of the companies, names like "Eastern London Workshop for Severely Handicapped Persons" or "Support Office for the Brighton Orphanage".
A contract had been prepared by her to transfer a small sum to the Foundation Vault every month. "Headmaster Dumbledore stopped the transfer," Wyvernclaw explained. "He tried to lay his hands on the vault of your mother like he did with the one of your father, but she had been more careful, far less trusting. Here is a paper, an application by him, to sell the company shares. But we had to decline the request because he wasn't able to submit the confirmation of Lady Longbottom."
The low growl emitted from Harry's throat as he heard about Dumbledore's willingness to sell these companies – disregarding the wishes of his mother and the welfare of those handicapped persons – obviously pleased Wyvernclaw very much. A very vicious grin became visible on his face and he nodded approvingly.
"Why would he need the confirmation of my Grandmother?" Neville asked.
Wyvernclaw put another sheet on his table. "Misses Evans-Potter planned the Foundation as a parent organization to a larger number of smaller companies. She wanted to submit her own money and collect more from other families, Muggle and Wizard. Lady Longbottom had been chosen by her to be director of the foundation. According to my knowledge she had agreed to this position but…"
Again his mother's early death had stopped one of her wishes, Harry pondered. "I'll ask her if she is still interested," he announced. "Do I have control over Foundation and vault?"
"You'll have full control at the age of seventeen," Wyvernclaw responded. "Before that your magical guardian has to agree – if that guardian is one of the persons on this list of trusted persons. Your mother wanted to make secure that a wrongly chosen guardian wouldn't be able to spend your money."
He showed the list to Harry and it was no surprise to find the names of Roxanne, Augusta and even Amelia Bones on this list. Equally unsurprising was the lack of Dumbledore's and Sirius' name. "I don't see Professor McGonagall on this list," Harry said in Hermione's direction. "Instead I find Professor Flitwick."
"It makes sense," she responded. "Your mother had been very close to Professor Flitwick as far as we know. And Minerva… you know how much I like and respect her, but she is too close to the Headmaster, I fear. Perhaps your mother thought the same about her, didn't trust her to stand up against the Headmaster."
Harry agreed and asked Wyvernclaw: "So with Lady Greengrass permission I could bring this Foundation contract into effect?"
"This would be possible. Your mother got the approval of my superior that this Foundation would be administered favourably. This meant no administration charges and non-interest-bearing loans. Apparently she made quite an impression to obtain these privileges. The approval is still intact as long as you use the Foundation like intended: To help disadvantaged persons."
.
"Regretfully there is another point I have to inform you about. Somehow Headmaster Dumbledore had been able to handle the inheritance of your mother's parents. Half of the money went to a Mrs. Petunia Dursley. The other half should have gone to your mother's vault. Instead Griphook followed Headmaster Dumbledore's decision to put it into a fourth vault. It is not a very large sum; apparently your grandparents weren't very wealthy."
He shortly studied his papers again. "44,000 Galleons had been put into the vault thirteen years ago. Access has a certain Wizard named Mundungus Fletcher. Do you know this person?" Harry shook his head. He had heard the name somewhere before but wasn't able to recall the opportunity. According to the expression on Wyvernclaw's face this Fletcher wasn't the most trustworthy person.
"Mister Fletcher is… well known… to us. There had been a few problems in the past and since five years he is on our internal 'bad-apple' list. Not that we really have such a list – officially," Wyvernclaw added with a grin.
"So Dumbledore used this Fletcher as an intermediary, to hide his involvement," Hermione asked.
"I assume that was one of the reasons. The other one was perhaps a question of spare time as Mister Fletcher had been handling the day-to-day activities in the past."
"Would it be possible to transfer the money into my mother's vault as soon as possible?"
Instead of a direct answer Wyvernclaw fetched a printed form, filled it and put it in front of Harry and Roxanne: "Sign here and here." A few minutes and stamps later he acknowledged: "Done – at least for the sum that was still in the vault: 28,000 Galleons. The rest had been spent in the past decade. Around 5,000 Galleons we should be able to get out of Mister Fletcher's personal vault but I fear that the rest is gone. Naturally you could try to sue Mister Fletcher but the case would be difficult – as he had your former guardian's allowance – and I fear you shouldn't expect too much. Mister Fletcher isn't very rich."
"I propose not to sue him now" Agatha stated. "We could still have this in mind should the need arise later, should we ever need some means of leverage. The main issue now should be that you have the lion's share of the money and deny him – and Dumbledore – any further access."
"My Grandmother is on solid ground in this matter," Harry agreed. He had chosen the nickname with care and the reactions of the Pinegrew ladies told him that it had been the right decision. They were his family now. His mother had trusted them; he would trust them too and rely on their judgment.
"Then you certainly should change this contract too," Wyvernclaw explained. "I know it is a bit late now but I fear we should settle this matter tonight, before someone is able to cause harm."
Harry stared at him, his eyes red with anger and exhaustion, traces of his tears still visible on his cheeks. Dumbledore, the name dangled unsaid in the room. "Please explain."
Wyvernclaw used the next thirty minutes to explain the problems of the largest share of his inheritance. While the Potter wealth had been far greater twenty years ago, his father had spent a large amount of money to support the war against Voldemort and especially to help widows and orphans of the war. Harry couldn't blame him. Yes, he would be a few millions richer without his father's expenses, but most of the money had been well spent.
Potions, armour and other equipment for Aurors and Order members, support for the families of murdered Wizards and Witches, grants to independent newspapers.
"He even spent money on the Quibbler," Harry uttered with a smile. "I own a fifteen percent share of the newspaper. I should read my paper more often in the future." Luna would certainly like to hear about this.
Still the Potter wealth encompassed a sum of around 600,000 Galleons, two larger estates – the damaged house of his parents at Godric's Hollow and the family Manor – and a number of smaller estates in Europe, mostly vacation bungalows and city flats.
"Around a quarter of the sum that had been in the vault at your parents' death has been spent since then. The official justification was the maintenance of Potter Manor. But with Mister Fletcher as the responsible caretaker I have my doubts about this. Smaller amounts have been spent to support a number of poorer Wizards and Witches."
Harry already knew that Potter Manor had been used by the Order since the war. It would be interesting to see its current condition. Wyvernclaw showed Harry the list of the supported persons and while he didn't know every one of the names, he at least noticed Hestia Jones, Mrs. Figg and even Remus Lupin with very small sums. Harry knew that Dumbledore had supported a number of poorer members of the Order, only the origin of the money he had used so generously – his money – was a surprise.
"Please withdraw any access Mister Fletcher has to this account. For now continue the payments listed, but double the amount paid to Mrs. Figg. But from now on the money goes directly to her own vault. I assume you're able to establish something that she'll be able to get her money from a Muggle Bank?" He had come to like the lady and she had never been rich. To live as a Squib without family fortune, without education and magic was certainly difficult, especially at her age. He only wanted that she knew who paid her support, wanted to separate her from Dumbledore's influence.
"That won't be a problem," Wyvernclaw responded. "We have contacts to some larger Muggle Banks."
Harry recapitulated what he had heard this evening:
School Trust: Wyvernclaw would get him back the around 10,000 Galleons Dumbledore had stolen in the last decade. Harry would have access to this money from now on.
Lily's vault and Foundation account: After the return of her parents' inheritance there would be around 180,000 Galleons and a number of company shares. He would have limited access until he turned seventeen and hoped that Lady Longbottom would be willing to help him with the foundation.
James' vault: The largest share of the inheritance, two estates and 600,000 Galleons. As Wyvernclaw explained he would have full access after his twenty-first birthday. Until then he only had to make sure that nobody went on with spending his money.
Main culprits in the whole matter: Headmaster Dumbledore and his henchman Mundungus Fletcher. They would suffer for this, Harry promised himself. He wouldn't lose control, but he wouldn't forget either. At least he had been relieved that apparently no other teacher had been involved in the fraud.
His fist suddenly smashed on the desk, awakening everybody. Harry breathed deeply two times before he explained with a lopsided grin: "A fly was there." He flicked away the invisible – and non-existent – fly and pretended to lean back calmly once again.
Wyvernclaw watched him with interest. He remembered quite well the day his mother had been sitting there. New to the wizard world and inexperienced in the ways of the money, Lily Evans had no qualms to ask advice from a goblin. You haven't got to know it all, but you have to think and to be willing to ask the right people. She had been eager to learn about the possibilities to secure her son's inheritance, already not trusting every 'person to be respected' in her vicinity. As she started to think about the Foundation contract, Wyvernclaw had sent her to his superior.
His superior – Wyvernclaw grinned. She was one of the few goblin women in this business, one of the oldest and most ugly women to add. Small, bald and barrel-shaped her knowledge was respected by the whole division, her displeasure feared by even the most senior accountant. She was Chief Accountant of London now, directly subordinated the director. And she was his Great-great-Aunt. But she didn't wear her nickname 'Old Ironsides' for nothing. The saying was that you had to be a very young Goblin whelp to tear a smile from her cracked lips.
A century ago she had been a most famous curse-breaker, many of her books and regulations still used today at Gringotts. And she belonged to the small and all-female order of Spirit Shamans. Fifty years ago she had entered the Accountant Division, rising sharply through the ranks thanks to her incredible mind. That Lily Evans had been able to make an impression on her in a single afternoon showed clearly what an extraordinary woman she had been. Wyvernclaw saw much of her in this boy. I'll help you as my Aunt had done with your mother.
"Something is troubling you, Master Wyvernclaw," Agatha suddenly objected. "Am I correct?"
The addressed Goblin stared at her in silence for a while before he slowly nodded. "You're correct." He pointed towards the papers with a low sigh. "Without your visit today this fraud could have gone on for a long time. The applications had been phrased well enough to be inconspicuous, the sums chosen carefully not to break the mold. It is too…"
"Too convenient?" Agatha asked.
"Yes," he sighed again "too convenient. It is onerous to admit that no wizard could have been able to pull such a fraud without intern help. Someone – Griphook – must have told him what would be possible, where the limits would be."
"Could you tell us something about this Griphook?"
"His family had been part of the LAD – London Accountant Division – for a long time. They had been responsible for some of the wealthiest and most respectable families. But after the death of his grandfather the status of his family declined. The reputation of his father and uncle wasn't the best and they lost many important customers. It ended with his father being degraded and since then his son tried to get their old position back. Fifteen years ago there were some rumours about some not fully legal transactions but somehow Griphook was able to avoid another degrade.
Since then he was able to ensnare some new customers, mostly Muggleborn families who had been sent to him apparently. They aren't very important customers, but thanks to them he had been able to slowly better his station again. Since Mister Potter entered Hogwarts, Griphook started to harass us with his requests to get back to his father's desk."
"Gringotts has a unique reputation," Agatha stated. "It must be hard to learn about a black sheep among you."
"It is disgusting," Wyvernclaw agreed. "I'll send the documents to our internal revision and a copy to Ol' Ironsides. If I'm correct about my assumption, Griphook won't like the punishment."
.
Harry closed his eyes, a smile on his face. He would honour his mother's wishes. He would get his payback on Dumbledore. But most importantly he had a family, a real family.
.
A/N
You see that I avoided the "you have the inheritance of a dozen families at your hands including Gryffindor and your money is enough to buy Scotland"-thing. But please remember that I use my own conversion rate (1:20), so his 800,000 Galleons should be around 15-20 million Dollar/Euro/Pounds, more than enough to live comfortably but not enough to buy a 200 feet yacht or the Daily Prophet with the petty cash.
Harry's recapitulation is partially meant for you because I fear that the chapter is a bit confusing to read.
Old Ironsides is a former pen&paper roleplaying char of my wife. She won't play a greater role in this story (but expect to see more of Wyvernclaw).
I intend to write another 3 chapters about the winter break. After that we'll do a jump into February with Valentine and second task. I have a little request again. I'm looking for ideas regarding Valentine, things that would be appropriate for Harry/Daphne and Hermione/Neville. Please give me input.