Harry walked down Diagon Alley, accompanied by a disguised Sirius, a gleeful Dora, and a sedate Ted. Sirius had gone and gotten a muggle haircut, his shoulder-length locks were now closely cropped. According to Andromeda, this should be enough - a distinctly muggle style would prevent anyone from making the connection to a pureblood heir. Harry thought this was just another example of the Wizarding world's lack of inquisitiveness. Hermione had railed privately against the tendency of the Wizarding world to just accept things at face value; it went hand-in-hand with their lack of common sense, she said, because they grew up with magic and learned to never question that which didn't make sense. The more time Harry spent outside of Hogwarts, the more he agreed with her assessment.
The group approached Gringotts, the first stop. They needed to talk to the Potter and Black account managers, if at the very least to warn the Goblins before they assumed they were being defrauded. Harry nodded to the guards as they entered, one of whom nodded back. They approached an open teller, the bank being quiet this early in the morning.
"Good morning -" Sirius glanced at the nameplate "Sliplast. We would like to speak to the Black and Potter account managers, and are willing to privately prove our identities."
Slipfast fixed each of them with a gimlet eye, before slowly nodding and waving a runner up from behind the desk. He went back to his ledger without any additional directions. The group followed the silent runner through a corridor to an office where the goblin knocked, but still didn't speak. Harry saw Sirius looking at the stone forming the right side of the doorway. Following his gaze, he saw incredibly old-looking lines carved into the corner in odd patterns.
"It's Early Ogham runes. I'm not great with them, considering the focus on Futhark in school, but Ogham was the written language before the Romans invaded the isles." Sirius quietly commented to Harry. Ted noticed the runes as well, and moved to take a look.
"I'm not great with them either, but I think this is proclaiming a goblin the steward of Potter finances." Ted theorized. "I deal with Ogham a bit in law, but there's very little precedent from that long ago that hasn't been translated."
"You would be correct, Lawwizard Tonks." A voice akin to chewing gravel spoke as the door they stood before opened. "I am Account Manager Goldfist, manager for the Potters and associated accounts. My clan has managed the Potter finances since the year 591 by your reckoning, nearly a millennium before Gringott opened the bank." Goldfist led the group into the office. "My clan was given that stele as proof of our stewardship. When the bank was built, it was included." He sat at the desk.
"Mr. Potter, given that the stele has not objected to your presence, you are a true Potter. We can do an inheritance test as per Gringotts Bank procedure, but per the grandfathered Potter accounts contract, you are recognized." He pulled a couple boxes from a drawer in the desk. "That said, I have questions. There are irregularities with the account that I have been unable to investigate. Threats to business from the Malfoys, Notts, and Selywns. And why are you substantially older than you should be?"
"Time Travel." Harry spoke bluntly. Ted winced and Sirius snorted. "Eight years from now, Sirius and I fell through the veil of death in the department of mysteries. We were granted a second chance due to extremely unlikely circumstances, and we fell back out of the veil a few days ago. We're now going to work in the background, behind our younger counterpart's awareness." Goldfist's gaze narrowed.
"You make it sound as if there is some threat to prepare for. I as your account manager would make excellent use of any future information you have. And Gringotts as a whole would be begrudgingly grateful for relevant warnings."
Sirius was confused. He'd never interacted with Goldfist before, but the Black account manager was much more adversarial. Goldfist was downright helpful, in comparison.
"Account Manager Goldfist, why are you being so… friendly? All my experiences with Goblins have been…" Sirius failed to find a good word to describe conventional wizarding relations with the goblins that wouldn't see him evicted from the bank.
"That is because you were born a Black, Mr. Black. The Potters have enjoyed amiable relations with the Goblin Nation and the Gornuck clan in particular for over two millennia." Goldfist looked at Ted. "Muggleborn Wizards and Witches generally are similarly easy to work with, at least in the last thirty or forty years or so." He looked back to Harry. "Now Mr. Potter, What is it you feel the need to prepare for?"
"Voldemort returns at the end of the school year in 1995. The auror department is understaffed currently, and it's made worse by Fudge refusing to recognize the threat." Goldfist's eyes widened.
"That is hugely important to Gringotts. Tom Riddle was terrible for business." He settled back in his chair. "But we can revisit that topic later. Mr. Potter, House Potter has pressing needs and due to your time travel, we can resolve these problems sooner than expected." Goldfist opened one of the boxes and revealed multiple very old looking rings. Little more than beaten gold, there were no adornments other than more ogham runes along the two edges. Harry was surprised, he was expecting something much more ornamental, like what he had seen of Lucius Malfoy's jewelry during his brief interactions with the man.
"The Potters are a very old family, Harry. Your small fortune is mostly a new thing, a result of a couple potioneers in the 1800s. But it is generally assumed that the Potters are the oldest magical house in the isles still extant. There are a few houses on the mainland, especially in Greece, that can be traced back further, but these rings are over three thousand years old." Sirius spoke with an almost reverent tone. "House rings don't get replaced, you see. The family magic you carry slowly reinforces the enchantments on the ring. It would be the height of folly to try and attack a head of house wearing a ring as old as yours. However enchantments on rings as old as this will be much more… generic. Newer house rings will create shields, deflect physical objects, so on."
Harry slowly reached for the largest ring, and pulled it from the supporting velvet. It was a satisfying weight in his hand, and had a satin texture from the imperfect finish. A warmth ran up his arm from his fingertips.
"Mr. Black is correct. The Potter rings have enchantments mostly designed to encourage good fortune, survival, even luck, as well as resist compulsion. They generally will also sow misfortune among the house's enemies. This may sound less useful than you think, but the magical strength necessary to indirectly influence chance is enormous. Over the course of years, decades, or centuries, the Potter family has survived multiple calamities through sometimes sheer happenstance, and previous Potters have theorized that these rings are some of the reason." Goldfist explained. Harry marveled at proof of his history. He had very little to show of the Potters, especially now after having traveled back.
"Why are there so many rings?" Harry asked, looking up at Goldfist.
"When these were initially created, monogamy was less common. Though there is functionally no difference between the house rings for wives and children. Only that one-" He pointed to the ring Harry was holding "- is any different. That's the Lord's ring, or when they were created, the head of the clan's. It is thought that there were as many as forty or fifty of these rings at one point, but as you can see we only have nine now."
"The lord's ring allows for a bit more control over the enchantments - nothing active, but it will work with the Lord's intent. Just being able to hold it is proof it accepts you, Mr Black here would feel a numbing cold. Someone with active malicious intent towards your house would be cursed, though in what way is uncertain. Now with that said, you should put it on, any finger will do, whichever fits best."
Harry slipped the ring onto his right middle finger. A moment passed before he felt what could only be described as a warm ghost phasing with him and settling into his bones. It was a very comforting feeling, and he realized that he had constantly felt an absence, a chill before. But otherwise it was fairly anticlimactic, no shower of sparks or golden light, less of a show than even when he had gotten his wand - it was a much more internal, personal thing.
Harry realized everyone was looking at him, waiting for a response.
"I-I feel it. It's… well it's warm." He struggled to describe it, and he wasn't the most eloquent in the first place. He didn't think anyone would understand who didn't also feel something similar. "Goldfist, can everyone here wear one of the other rings?" Harry wanted his family, adopted or otherwise, to be able to share in the protections, as nebulous as they were.
"I'm afraid not, Lord Potter. The rings are only accepting of blood relations. Any future wife of yours will have to undergo a variant of the blood adoption ritual to bring her close enough into the family to satisfy the rings." Harry nodded. That made a sort of sense.
"I don't want to take up all your time with questions, but is there some sort of book about this?" Harry needed to know more about his house's history, and more about the impacts these rings might have on their coming efforts.
"Only the Potter Grimoire, but the sections old enough to be of use to you are transcriptions of oral traditions, written in Welsh with ogham runes." Harry blinked.
"If you wish to know more of the early Potters, I recommend visiting the Potter ancestral lands, They're close to Holyhead, on a peninsula called Penrhyn Mawr. It used to be an island, protected by a very thin cut between it and the mainland, however erosion of the coast has fallen into the cut over time. It is still protected by the ancestral wards, however it was deemed unsafe during the last war due to the difficulty of casting the fidelius over such a large area. Gringotts can provide a portkey just outside the wards for a fee."
Harry, nodded. Finding out his family had more than the ruined cottage in Godric's Hollow was a relief. He still didn't know if he could go there yet. Maybe with Sirius. He was rather overwhelmed. They mostly came here to talk to the Black account manager, expecting that conversation to be more useful.
"As for the Potter businesses, Your family holds the patent for Sleekeasy hair calmer, however a few brewers have begun to sell slightly modified recipes to avoid litigation. They're steadily encroaching on the market. I have been unable to act on your behalf, due to the lack of a Lord Potter. What I recommend is for you to employ an independent potions master to verify the originality of the competitors and litigate appropriately." Harry was fine with that and they moved on.
"Next, I would like your authorization to begin investing in new ventures. There are a few I believe will be quite profitable. So far I have only been able to work within the framework of what your father laid out before your parents went into hiding with you. Most of the profits I have realized since have been with some seed money your father told me to play with on the muggle stock exchange. I have not been able to invest more capital, though, and I believe it would be prudent to do so." Goldfist finished. Harry assented here as well.
"Well that covers everything pressing I have for you. I should be able to counter Malfoy's encroachment with your authorizations." Goldfist sat back. "Is there anything outstanding you would like to ask of me?" Harry was still processing, but there was nothing pressing.
"No, I don't think there's anything else today. We mostly wanted to make sure we didn't get accused of fraud or something when it became obvious there were two of me. I would like that portkey though, I would love to explore anything associated with my family. As well as a couple hundred galleons for expenses."
"I'll get that for you then. But if you want to explore your family history, there are more properties than just Penrhyn Mawr to visit. That's just the oldest." Goldfist stood and walked over to a sideboard, where he opened a drawer and withdrew a few engraved steel dowels.
"Would you like all of them? These are reusable, though they will degrade with use." Harry nodded. Goldfist returned with the bunch.
"They're colorcoded - see the tips? Take this copy of the ledger - it'll tell you which is which, as well as constantly update with the master ledger here." He pulled a thick, hardbound book from a lower drawer and placed his clawed hand on top of it. Closing his eyes, Goldfist pushed, and a second copy was phased out of the first. He replaced the original and handed the new copy over.
"Is there anything else I can do to assist you, Lord Potter?" Goldfist sat back, and Sirius would swear the goblin looked pleased. He'd never seen an interaction like this between goblins and wizards. Ted didn't seem terribly surprised, though, and neither did Dora. Maybe Goldfist was right, and it was just stuffy purebloods who got the animosity. Not unwarranted, of course.
"No, I think I'm good for now. I'll certainly have more to ask about in the future, though." Harry shook his head, gathering that which he needed to take with him. Dora came forward and helped load it into her bag. Harry's mouth quirked into a smirk. "If Hermione could see me now, planning to write down my questions, make a list even!" Sirius chuckled at that, before standing.
"Now we get to go have a much more confrontational discussion! I highly doubt that Rockrage will be as willing to see me." Goldfist nodded as the rest of the group stood and made for the exit.
"Thank you for your help, Goldfist." Harry nodded to the goblin, before exiting after the others. The silent runner was still waiting in the hallway, looking surly, but led them down another two corridors to another office. As they approached though, the door slammed open and an extremely angry, extremely old man stormed out, surprisingly spry for his apparent age. Sirius froze, and the man made it halfway to the group before recognizing their presence. He slowed, but caught notice of Dora, who was fairly obvious with her pink hair, and then gave their group a closer look. His eyes caught on Sirius, and he stopped in his tracks.
"Damnit." Sirius whispered. "Hello Grandfather! Maybe we should return to Rockrage's office? This will be a difficult conversation." Arcturus glared at Sirius for a moment before speaking.
"Yes, and we'll start with why you're here, and not in Azkaban like your useless cousin." Harry was a bit surprised to see such disgust for Bellatrix, but knew that this discussion would be more a full throated yelling match while he, Ted, and Dora stood on the sidelines. Ted was already rubbing at the bridge of his nose, and Dora took Harry's hand, both in comfort and for support. They shared a wide-eyed glance, before following the two Black men into the office.