Next stop, the Ministry of Magic.
When the teens got to the Ministry, they were not in good shape; the Knight Bus was not a pleasant ride, and after all the shocks at Gringotts, they were not in a position to cope with it. They took a moment to steady themselves, then turned to their companion and dusted each other off. Then, after a quick kiss, they headed to the phone booth.
Harry followed the procedure he had seen Mr. Weasley use, and the one he had used less than a month ago. This time, the badge just said 'visitor'.
Although he and Hermione were both nervous about going to the site of their last battle, they were the only ones who knew that. On the outside, they were rock solid.
Although neither of them expected the amount of traffic they saw in the Ministry, they both acted unfazed by unspoken agreement. They headed towards the visitor's desk, thankful that no one decided to pay enough attention to them to realize who they were.
"Excuse me," Harry said to the receptionist, "Who do I see about emancipation?"
Without looking up, the receptionist said, "Go home, kid. You can't get emancipation without your parents."
"That might be difficult, since they're dead," Harry said angrily.
Startled, she looked up. Upon realizing who she said that to, she paled visibly. "I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, right this way."
Hermione was at least as angry as Harry, and said, "Maybe you wouldn't be sorry if you looked at the person you were being rude to!"
The woman paled a bit more, and nodded, still leading them. After a few moments of pushing through the crowded Ministry, they arrived at a door that said 'Department of Legal Studies', and below that, 'Michael Greer'.
The receptionist knocked on the door, and poked her head, saying, "Excuse me, Mr. Greer; Mr. Potter has requested seeing you." They heard a male voice respond, and the receptionist said, "Go on in." She was still a little pale.
In the room, they saw a rather large man, but there all similarities to the male Dursleys ended; he had a face that instantly made you think he was smiling, and had a twinkling in his eyes that reminded Harry of Dumbledore and put him at ease.
Mr. Greer stuck out his hand, and said with a smile, "Good morning, Mr. Potter. I understand you require my services?"
Harry smiled back, replying, "Indeed I do, Mr. Greer. I'm trying to execute my parents' wills."
Mr. Greer's smile faded a little bit. "Ah. May I see them, please?"
Harry handed them to him. Mr. Greer reviewed them, sighed, and asked, "I assume you know what it means to be emancipated Mr. Potter?" Harry nodded. "Well, I'm afraid that's going to be the most time-consuming part. The rest of the will is relatively simple, and not even handled by us."
Harry just waved it away, "What do I have to do?"
Mr. Greer pulled out what seemed to be only about three pages. "If you could sign here, and here, Mr. Potter." Harry signed where he pointed. Mr. Greer signed on the lines underneath. "Congratulations, Mr. Potter, you are now legally an adult," Mr. Greer said, smiling.
"That's it?" Harry asked. "I thought you said it would be the most time-consuming part," he accused.
"It was," he said. "What other part of the will did you spend time on?" He asked, laughing. Harry figured it out, and laughed with him. Harry thanked him, and headed out with Hermione, who had been unusually silent.
"Oh, Mr. Potter," Mr. Greer called. "Make sure the goblins disperse the money."
"They wouldn't have done that already?" Harry asked, startled.
Mr. Greer shook his head. "Probably not. Like us, someone needs to go to them about the will before they will do anything about."
Harry nodded, thanking him again, before turning and bringing the still silent Hermione with him.
Once they were out of the Ministry, Harry turned to her and asked her what was wrong. "When Dumbledore told you about the blood wards," she began, "didn't he say they would dissipate when you were an adult?" She asked.
"Yeah," he shrugged, "what does that have to do with-ooohhh…." He considered that for a moment. "Will that count?"
Hermione nodded. "I think so," she said unhappily.
She jumped when Harry whooped like a little kid. At her questioning look, he explained that it meant he didn't have to live with the Dursleys. Although she was surprised she hadn't thought of it herself, it immediately brightened her outlook.
Hermione hugged him. "Let me call my parents," she said eagerly.
To her surprise, Harry shook his head. "We can't," he said simply. Seeing that she was about to argue, he explained his reasoning. "First off, we don't know if the wards are down. We need to contact Dumbledore to find out if he meant adult by the legal definition, or simply never thought of me getting emancipated and meant when I turned 17.
"Second, we both agreed that we didn't think we would be able to sleep alone anymore. I really don't want to try and explain that one to your parents." Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the obvious dread he felt about facing her parents; Voldemort, sure, no problem! But his girlfriend's parents, and he was terrified.
"Third," he said, ignoring her laughter, "All of my stuff is still at the Dursleys, so we would have to head back anyway."
Hermione nodded, disappointed in herself for not thinking of all of these things already. Harry sensed her discomfort, and, guessing the source, kissed her on the forehead, saying, "Relax, love. I've had weeks to adjust to thinking about the wards. You've had three days. Plus, I know you really want to see your parents."
Hermione hugged him, grateful that he knew what was wrong and knew just what to say. Thank you, Harry, she thought to him gratefully.
She was about to say it aloud, as well, when she felt him stiffen, and looked up at him. Before she could say anything, he held up his hand for a moment. He appeared to be concentrating on something. Suddenly, she heard, Hermione? In her head-in a voice that sounded very like Harry Potter.
Harry grinned as she looked up at him, shocked. "How'd you do that?" She asked aloud.
Harry shrugged. "Dunno," he said. "I heard a voice in my head that sounded like you say 'Thank you, Harry'. I wanted to make sure I wasn't crazy, since a certain witch I know told me hearing voices was a bad thing." He paused, looking thoughtful again. "Seems useful, though."
Hermione nodded. "We'll have to practice, see how far apart we can talk to each other, get used to it so we don't give it away-" she was interrupted when Harry laughed and kissed her.
"You can make a list later, love," Harry told her, smiling. "We still have tons to do today. We have to go back to Gringotts, explore the family vault, buy anything we need or want that's not in there, go back to the Dursleys, send a letter to Dumbledore, find some place we can practice magic unnoticed by muggles, and between all that, we still have to eat."
"But Harry, how long can that really take?" Hermione argued. "We've been to Gringotts and the Ministry already, and it's barely been an hour."
"And how many books are you going to want to make sure we don't need?" Harry asked with a teasing smile, causing Hermione to blush.
Rather than argue with what she knew was the truth, she just shrugged, raised her wand to call the Knight Bus. Just before she got on, she turned back to Harry, saying, "Just so you know, you're distracting me the whole way to and from your vault!" Harry, of course, had no problem with this, and made sure to practice while on the Knight Bus, first.
When they got off the Knight Bus for the third time that day, they were again disheveled, though for a different reason than last time. This time they had the Knight Bus drop them off right at Gringotts. After going through the same ritual they had at the front of the Ministry, Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bank; for some reason, she was eager for the ride down to Harry's vault.
After being scanned as usual, they were greeted by Griphook again. "Mr. Potter, I'm pleased to see everything went well at the Ministry. I assume you'll want the rest of your parents' wills executed, and then head down to your family vault."
"Yes, please," barely comprehensible after his enjoyable ride on the Knight Bus.
Griphook, guessing the reason, decided it would be better to not comment. Instead, he snapped his fingers and muttered to the goblin that appeared in Gobbledegook.
"Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger, if you would follow me please," he said, walking towards the cart. "Mr. Potter, would it be convenient for you if I moved the money from your trust into the family account and changed the bags to access that one instead?"
Harry thought about looking for a downside to it. Unable to find one, he looked to Hermione to see if she concurred, and, receiving a slight nod, turned to Griphook. "Yes, it would be convenient. Thank you."
Griphook waved it away as they got into the cart. He then snapped his fingers, waited amount, then said, "It is done." As soon as he finished speaking-and before Harry could thank him-the cart pulled away, and Harry was busy distracting Hermione.
This trip was much longer than the trips to Harry's old vault, as the teens were coming to think of it. (Neither of them was complaining about it!) It turned out that the older the vault, the lower it was. The Potter vault was apparently #5, making it one of the oldest vaults.
After the cart stopped, Griphook stood there awkwardly for a moment, (wondering how the teens were able to breathe), before he decided to politely interrupt them by tapping Harry's shoulder. Harry jumped, looking around as he broke apart from Hermione, and his face turned a deep red that Hermione's matched.
They stood up and got out of the cart holding hands, but seemingly finding the floor to be very interesting as they both muttered apologies to the goblin. Had they bothered to ask or even look up, they would have found out that Griphook had seen behavior like that before and was struggling not to laugh as he led the embarrassed teens to the family vault. After controlling himself, he said, "Mr. Potter, I believe you will find that your trust key will fit this. Also, if you would hand me your bottomless bags I can alter the vault it pulls the money from your old trust vault to this one." They unhesitatingly handed them over, and after a moment, he handed them back. "Please note that these bags can only pull out money, no other items."
"Thank you, Griphook," Harry said, reattaching the bag to his belt. He then took his key out of his pocket, and headed towards the vault, both eager and sad to see what his parents had left him. Just as he was about to put his key in the hole, though, the three beings jumped at a loud crack! behind them. They whirled around to find a very familiar house-elf with several hats on.
"Dobby?" Harry and Hermione chorused. Griphook just decided to sit back and watch.
"Mr. Harry Potter, sir," the cheerful house-elf squeaked, "Dobby's is just hearings that Mr. Harry Potter, sir, is become Lord of House Potter! Dobby's would be grateful to serve such a noble House!"
Harry couldn't help a smile at the little elf. He may be frustrating at times, but he always meant well. He glanced at Hermione to see her reaction to this, only to find that she was waiting to see what he would do. He mentally shrugged and hoped this didn't backfire. "Okay, Dobby, you can work for me. You said your fee was a galleon a week, right?"
Dobby nodded happily, and then, for some inexplicable reason, suddenly looked sad. "Mr. Harry Potter, sir, would you hires Winky, too? She still sads about…before."
Harry looked startled for a moment. He glanced at Hermione, and was encouraged to see her smiling. "May I talk to Winky first, Dobby?" Harry asked.
Dobby seemed to become his usual self, nodding happily before disappearing with a crack! Before anyone could do or say anything, he reappeared with Winky, who looked slightly less sad than the last time they saw her, and more sober, as well. She stared at the ground, and Hermione thought she looked nervous.
Harry picked up on this, and knelt on the ground to be more her height. Hermione and Griphook decided to leave him to it. "Winky," Harry said softly, "would you like to work for me?" Winky looked up at last, looking hopeful, and nodded eagerly. "Will you accept the same fee as Dobby?"
Winky rocked back on her heels, looking hurt, and said. "No! Winky is proper house-elf! No fee," she said, making the word sound dirty. Her eyes filled with tears, and she was slouched. "No ones wants Winky," she muttered sadly to herself, "Winky is bads elf."
Both Harry and Hermione were feeling teary about this; it reminded them both about how Harry had felt for so long. "That's not true, Winky," Harry said, his voice breaking slightly. He glanced at Hermione, and she-knowing he was seeking affirmation-nodded. He turned back to Winky, who was looking hopeful again, and said, "I'll be glad to accept your services, to House Potter, Winky." He then stood and said to both of them, "But you'll both have one day off a month! No house-elf of mine will tire themselves," he said mock sternly.
Dobby looked thrilled, but Winky was instantly protesting. Before she could get far, Harry said gently, "Winky, I order you to take a break at least one day a month."
Winky instantly ceased her objections; accepting orders was an ingrained habit, much like it had been for Harry. Hermione found herself tearing at the thought, and shook her head angrily to rid herself of the tears. Winky bowed, saying, "Yes, Master." Harry and Hermione both winced at the Master part.
"Winky," Harry said, "please don't call me Master. It makes me uncomfortable." Winky's eyes widened, and Harry recognized that she was going to punish herself, and quickly grabbed her. "It isn't your fault," Harry told her sternly. "You didn't know. Just call me Harry." He turned to Dobby. "You, too, Dobby."
They both nodded, though Winky's was a little reluctant. Satisfied, Harry turned back to the vault. "Shall we?" He said, putting the key to the door. There was the familiar sound of millions of tiny locks clicking, and the doors slowly opened.
The teens gasped as the vault door opened, and even Griphook seemed surprised. The house-elves didn't seem to have an opinion, as they had both vanished; apparently, they didn't need to make a bang when they apparated.
Just the size of the vault was impressive; Harry was sure that the entire Great Hall could fit in it with room to spare for the Dursley house. He didn't think about that for long, though, there was too much else to focus on. The back three quarters of the vault was money, and half of that area was galleons. What the hell am I going to do with that much money? Harry managed to think before turning to everything else.
On the left side, there was a collection of medieval melee weapons, including swords, axes, knives, and something that looked like a giant hammer. This collection wouldn't be complete without two sets of armor that appeared to be made of dragon-hide. Next to the medieval collection was a ridiculously large amount of gems that would have made the royal treasury look like children's baubles.
Harry was sure Hermione would like the right side of the room, as it was entirely books. Not a few dozen, but a few thousand. But for some reason, Harry found his eyes drawn to the middle, where there was just a chest and a table. Something about them made him think that those items were the most valuable, and he went towards them.
Hermione made a move to follow, but then looked at the books, clearly torn. Harry turned back, sensing something. Seeing her dilemma, Harry smiled and nodded to the books. Hermione gave him a grateful look, and was halfway there before Harry turned around. Of course, that was probably because he loved watching her, but still.
After tearing his eyes from Hermione, he continued to the items that had grabbed his attention. He knelt by the chest first, examining the engraving on it. Light Resides in Even the Darkest Place. Harry traced these words almost reverently before opening the trunk.
He was almost disappointed to find that it only had five books and two rings in one box. That is, until he read the titles: Defensive Spells, Offensive Spells, Ritual Spells, How to Fight a Wizard, The Complete Guide for an Animagus, and Wandless Magic. The rest of the trunk seemed to be empty.
"Hermione," Harry called, "you might be interested in this!"