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I do not own Harry Potter.
Chapter 2: Preparation
Remus grinned. "I suppose I can manage that. Have you ever apparated before?"
"No."
"Then this will be quite the experience. Is there anything you need to retrieve first?" Harry shook his head. "All right, then. Let's get out of the open, then you grab my arm and hold on tight."
"Okay…" Harry was apprehensive now. He followed Remus into the trees surrounding the park. When Remus stopped, Harry grabbed his arm.
"All right. Ready?" Harry nodded, his mouth suddenly dry. "It helps if you close your eyes. Okay. One. Two. Three!"
On three, Harry felt Remus's arm twist away from him. He tightened his grip, squeezing his eyes shut. Then he was sucked into a suffocating tube far too narrow for him. It felt like he was being stuffed through a straw.
A heartbeat later it was over, but when they landed Harry stumbled and fell to his knees, his stomach churning. "Is it always like that?" Harry moaned.
Remus chuckled. "It does take some getting used to. It's better when you're the one apparating."
"Ugh. I think I'll stick to broomsticks," Harry said, getting unsteadily to his feet. Looking around, he discovered they were in the alley behind the Leaky Cauldron.
Still grinning at Harry's misfortune, Remus took out his wand and tapped the bricks to open the entrance to Diagon Alley. "So where to first?"
"Gringotts. I need to have money before I can spend it. Plus…I want to know if I was named in Sirius's will." That idea had only just occurred to him.
"I'm sure you were, cub." Remus placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and guided him into the Alley, heading toward the bank.
Diagon Alley looked just the way Harry remembered it from all the other times he'd been. Except now, there was a hint of fear in the air. It hadn't been long enough since Voldemort's return for there to be real terror, but the people were more cautious now, less willing to be out and about for longer than necessary. Apprehension was thick. However, Gringotts was exactly the same, surly goblins and all. Harry smiled a little at the inscription above the door, remembering the first time he'd come here with Hagrid before his first year.
"What's your business?" Harry and Remus had reached the front desk. The teller goblin was predictably unpleasant, as always.
"I'm Harry Potter. I'd like to make a withdrawal, and determine if I was named beneficiary in the will of one Sirius Black." Harry tried to sound as polite and confident as possible.
"He would also like to see about getting emancipated," Remus added. The goblin raised an eyebrow, but called for an attendant. Harry turned to Remus for an explanation.
"There are only two ways to lawfully do magic outside of school while you're underage," Remus began without prompting, entering his "teacher mode." "The first is to obtain a license from the Ministry, which is not only very difficult, but it would tell the whole world that Harry Potter is doing magic. The second is much simpler and done through Gringotts—emancipation. This makes you an adult in wizards' eyes and therefore allows you to perform magic while not at Hogwarts. And, of course, the goblins keep all customer information strictly confidential."
"Then emancipation definitely seems like the better choice," Harry agreed.
A moment later another goblin appeared behind the pair.
"This is Blogrod. He is in charge of the affairs of the House of Black, and will be doing the will-reading first. Then we will see to emancipating young Mr. Potter," the teller said.
"Thank you," Harry said before following Remus and Blogrod. The other goblin's eyes widened slightly and he inclined his head toward Harry.
"You are welcome, Mr. Potter. May your gold always flow."
"And yours as well," Harry replied—it somehow felt like the right thing to say. Then he followed Blogrod, not noticing that every goblin in the lobby had their eyes on him.
"You are quite a remarkable wizard, Mr. Potter," Blogrod said.
"How so?" Harry asked, confused.
"You treat us as equals. That is not a common attitude among wizards."
"Thanks, I guess," Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. He wasn't used to getting compliments.
"It is I who must thank you, Mr. Potter."
"Harry. Please, call me Harry."
"Very well. Harry," Blogrod agreed with a nod.
The three walked in silence a moment longer, then the goblin led Harry and Remus into an office. It was of decent size, with a heavy wooden desk in the middle. A hard backed chair sat facing the desk from the front. A more comfortable chair sat behind the desk. It was to this chair that Blogrod went. He motioned for Harry to take the other, and Remus stood behind him with his hands resting lightly on Harry's shoulders.
"I have here a copy of the will of one Sirius Black," Blogrod said, pulling a roll of parchment from a drawer. "I have actually been waiting for you, Mr. Potter. Mr. Black left specific instructions that you hear his will first, and if possible Mr. Lupin as well," the goblin added, nodding toward Remus. "So we will proceed. Although, I am only to read the bequeaths to the two of you."
"That's fine," Harry said. "That's all I want to know," he added quietly.
"Very well. Then I shall proceed." Blogrod unrolled the parchment and began to read. "I, Sirius Orion Black, being of sound body and mind, do seal this will…To Remus John Lupin, I leave my school books and the contents of the black trunk—he knows what I mean. I also leave 10,000 galleons and ask that he let someone help him for once. Because I can't have the guardian of the future Lord Potter in rags, no can I? Which leads me to my next point. To Remus John Lupin I leave my most precious possession—the guardianship of my godson, Harry James Potter. If certain organizations prevent this, Harry is to be emancipated. And Moony, I ask you to at least be who I can no longer be—a guide and a father figure. Be a part of Harry's life.
To Harry James Potter, I leave all my other worldly possessions. I love you, kid, and I'm sorry I wasn't able to be what your father intended when he made me godfather. But I love you like my own son, and I wish you the best. Trust Remus—he won't lead you wrong.
Signed, Sirius Orion Black."
Blogrod looked up when he finished reading. Harry sat stiffly in his seat, staring straight ahead. Remus's hands were like vices on Harry's shoulders but still managed to tremble slightly.
"It appears young Harry is to be emancipated, according to the will of his godfather. The ministry has already declared that Mr. Lupin, due to his condition, cannot be guardian to any child but his own by blood. I will retrieve the paperwork," Blogrod said, then he left. Harry couldn't help but think he may have done it on purpose.
A moment passed and gradually Remus's grip on Harry's shoulders loosened and then disappeared. Remus rounded the chair and crouched beside Harry, putting a hand on his knee.
"Too soon?" Remus asked, his voice slightly hoarse. Harry could only nod. A moment passed in silence.
"I miss him, Moony. Merlin, I miss him."
Remus gathered the boy into his arms. "Me, too, cub."
When Blogrod returned, Harry and Remus had resumed their previous positions, slightly shaken but otherwise calm. The goblin placed a sheaf of papers on his desk, as well as a quill that looked disturbingly familiar to Harry.
"I take it you are familiar with a Blood Quill?" Blogrod said, seeing how Harry apprehensively eyed the object.
"Harry?" Remus asked, confused.
"I'll tell you later." Maybe, Harry added silently. He really had no wish to divulge the source of the scars on his right hand. He nodded in response to Blogrod's question.
"Very well. All you need to do is sign where indicated. And," Blogrod began, seeing Harry trying to read through the paperwork—he wanted to know what he was getting into—"all this does is ensure you are aware you are being emancipated and you accept full responsibility for yourself. Also, that you are capable, financially and physically, of taking care of yourself."
"Okay," Harry replied, still with trepidation. He picked up the black quill gingerly, as if it might hurt him before he even used it. He placed the tip beside the first line, steeling himself for the coming pain. As the quill scratched across the parchment, the familiar, sharp, pain lanced across the back of Harry's hand. His name appeared in glistening crimson, stark against his pale skin. Identical letters appeared on the parchment. His hand healed over instantly, but the skin was still red and raw. Harry gritted his teeth as he signed the rest of the papers.
By the time Harry had finished all the paperwork, his name was scabbed across his hand and it stung horribly.
"You shouldn't be this sensitive to the quill—you didn't use it for very long," Remus muttered to himself. "Harry, may I see your hand?" Harry nodded and held out his stinging hand. Remus held it carefully, inspecting the wound. After a moment he sighed and conjured a bandage around Harry's hand with his wand. "Because of the type of magic it was caused by, I can't heal it magically. But we can properly tend to it later."
"Thanks, Remus," Harry said, secretly relieved that Remus hadn't seen the scar from the last time he'd used a blood quill.
"Now that you are emancipated, we need to see to your inheritances. You are now a legal adult in the eyes of the wizarding community. Aside from Mr. Black's bequeaths, I imagine you've inherited a sizeable fortune as a Potter," Blogrod said, slightly impatient.
"Can't I just have a bank statement or something? I have a lot I want to get done today, and we've already taken a lot of your time," Harry said.
Blogrod raised his eyebrows. "Once again you prove yourself to be a remarkable wizard, young Harry. Very well. Since you are now the possessor of the Black fortune, I will be your account manager. We can set up an appointment to go over your accounts another time. I will send you an owl with a statement. It was a pleasure doing business with you."
"And you. I really appreciate all your help," Harry answered, and Remus echoed his words of thanks. Blogrod nodded to acknowledge his words then Harry and Remus departed.
The two took a cart down to Harry's trust vault, where Harry filled a bag with as many Galleons as it could hold since he had no idea how much he would need. Remus charmed Harry's pocket to be expanded and feather-light so Harry couldn't have to carry a bulging bag of coins through the Alley.
"So where to first, Harry?" Remus asked as they left the bank.
"I want to get contacts first, then we can get clothes."
"Lead the way, then," Remus said. Harry nodded and led them to a small glasses shop he'd discovered the summer before third year, when he'd had free reign of Diagon Alley for two weeks after blowing up his aunt.
The shop assistant was thrilled to have Harry Potter in her shop. So thrilled, in fact, that she pulled out all the stops. Eventually, after quite a hassle, Harry had had his eyes tested for the first time. He'd picked out a pair of silver wire-framed, rounded-lens glasses to replace the beat-up black ones he'd had since he was twelve. Harry was amazed at how well he could see with a proper prescription for once. He also picked out several different sets of contact lenses—two pairs for everyday wear and a pair of brown-tinted contacts to help keep him anonymous when he went out.
Harry and Remus headed to Madame Malkin's next. Harry had no idea what he was getting into when he asked for an entirely new wardrobe, both wizarding and muggle. Harry had never seen anyone, ever, as excited as Madame Malkin and her assistant when he confided that he wasn't sure what he wanted and could they help him. For three solid hours Harry was dragged around the store and in and out of fitting rooms as the women tried innumerable different outfits and styles. Remus just stood to the side and watched, an amused smile on his face as he refused to rescue Harry.
Finally, Harry put his foot down, insisting that he didn't need a fourth cloak just because he didn't yet have a red one. Nor did he need a pair of extra trousers because the other six pairs he had were all the same. Though, Harry did allow himself to be talked into purchasing a pair of black dragon hide boots and a jacket of the same. Remus actually encouraged that selection. But Harry now had more than enough clothes to replace his wardrobe of Dudley's hand-me-downs. He didn't even look at the price as he handed over two fistfuls of galleons and said to keep the change. Finally Harry and Remus left. Harry opted to wear his new dragon hide boots and dumped his old trainers in the rubbish bin on the way out.
The rest of Harry's shopping went much faster. After a break for supper, Harry purchased a new five-compartment trunk and put locks on each one. He purchased all the course books for Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, a few books he knew would be useful for the following year, including The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6 and A Potioneer's Guide to Brewing, the latter because Snape was an awful teacher and Harry wanted to actually learn something about potions that year.
It wasn't until they left Flourish and Blotts that Harry realized just how late it was. He began to wonder what the Dursleys would do when he returned at 8 o'clock at night without fixing their supper. But he realized he didn't care. He'd be gone soon enough, and anything they did to him wouldn't be permanent—especially since Harry could do magic now.
Remus and Harry apparated back to the park they'd departed from after storing all of Harry's purchases in his new trunk. Said trunk was shrunk and charmed feather-light and now rested safely in Harry's pocket. Harry was about to say his farewells and leave, but Remus caught his wrist before he'd gone more than two steps.
"You said you'd explain about the blood quill," Remus said pointedly.
Harry sighed. He'd rather hoped Remus had forgotten. But he nodded. Nothing could be done about it anyway as it was in the past. He lifted his hand and unwrapped the bandages, pleased to see that now his skin had completely healed over. The dim, reddish light of the setting sun, not to mention the shadows they stood in was insufficient to see the white scar on his pale skin. So Harry lit his wand with a muttered, "lumos." The light threw the white letters into relief. Remus took Harry's hand to inspect it, and Harry heard him growl as he read the words, "I must not tell lies."
"Who—" Remus began, but he was too angry to say any more.
"Umbridge. Every time she gave me detention she made me write that, over and over. 'Until the message sunk in,' she said. I suppose this is what she meant."
"Why did you never speak up? Harry, this easily could have been stopped if you'd just told someone."
"I didn't realize it was wrong until Hermione pointed it out, and I didn't want anyone to worry. I felt like I was letting her win if I complained. But there's nothing we can do now," Harry explained, shrugging.
Remus sighed. "I understand your mindset, Harry—Merlin knows the number of times I've downplayed injuries to save others from worrying. But adults are there to help you. You could have at least told me or—" he broke off, but Harry understood.
"You would have gone mental, and he would have come storming up to the castle and gotten himself arrested," he pointed out.
Remus smiled slightly. "I can't argue with you there. But next time, please tell me if something like this happens again. I'm here for you and I want to help you, cub."
Harry smiled at the endearment. "Thanks…Moony." Remus smiled at his schoolboy nickname. "I'd better go now, or the Dursleys might skin me alive, Moody or no Moody."
Remus chuckled. "You have all of us pegged. Take care, cub. Owl me if you need anything."
"I will. I still need a house, you know," Harry said cheekily. Remus grinned and embraced his cub before apparating away. Harry returned to Number 4.