Chapter 2

The interior of the pub was much like the outside: rustic. However, the clientele was a mishmash of the Wizarding World. In the corner were a group of hags, cackling over plates of what might have been liver, lumps of raw flesh jiggling on the ceramic like jelly. Two goblins sat in a booth, playing a game with dice, their gnarled fingers rolling the die and handing over coins on the outcome. A hooded figure sat at a table, drinking a red liquid - cranberry juice? Blood? Harry couldn't tell.

Standing at the bar was a man, his bald head catching the light coming through one of the two grimy windows. He was scrubbing at a glass in his hands, and exchanging banter with a wizard sitting at said bar. Harry stepped into the pub, coming out of the shadows he had been cloaked in before. The bartender looked up.

"Bless my soul. It's..." He seemed to think better of it, and stepped out from behind the bar to greet Harry. "Harry Potter, sir?" he enunciated quietly.

"How do you know who I am?" Harry asked.

"You don't know? Really?"

"No sir." said Harry.

"Sir? Call me Tom." He insisted. Tom straightened up. "There are rooms upstairs if you need one, free of charge of course. It's the least I could do, really."

"Why are you giving me a free room?" Harry asked.

"Best not to talk about it here, lad. Come see me this evening and we can talk. Now, I assume you're going to Diagon Alley, so I'll take you through."

They walked to the back of the pub, and through a creaky door. They were met with a brick wall.

"Now, lad, do you have enough money on you for your school things?"

"Umm, I have about ten pounds."

"That won't do. Go to Gringotts, that's the big bank at the top of the street, and ask to go to the Potter Vault." Tom stepped aside from the wall.

What once was a solid brick wall rippled like liquid, moving in waves away from the centre. The space that appeared behind it seemed impossible: there was council housing just over the wall, yet it vanished like a mirage, revealing a whole street behind the wall.

The first thing that caught Harry's eye was the huge marble building at the end of the street. It was built opulently, yet also brutally, the sharp angles showing a completely efficient use of expensive materials. It must have been the "Gringotts" Tom spoke of.

The streets in front of the bank bustled with life, the shops sandwiching the street all having something unique about them. One shop had a huge bubble enclosing it, another was impossibly thin and tall. Tom waved him off, and he wandered the alley, taking in all of the magical things happening.

Eventually he reached the front of the bank. The things he thought were two statues were actually... Dwarves? Goblins? Whatever they were, they wore heavy iron armour, and wielded giant battleaxes. They eyed him warily as he pushed open the double doors and walked into the bank.

Inside, he was met with another scene that he could sit and watch for hours. Tellers lined the walls, fiddling with piles of precious metals and jewels. The ground was inscribed with intricate patterns that stretched almost as far as the eye could see.

Harry pulled himself together and went to stand in one of the lines. A few minutes later, he was face-to-face with one of the tellers.

"What do you want?" The goblin asked irritably.

"I'd like to go to the Potter vault please."

"That's the fifth one this week, damn it."

Harry was sitting in the office of Ironjaw, the Potter account manager.

"So, you'll need to take this blood test to prove you really are Harry Potter. Every few days some idiot will get the bright idea: Hey, why don't I impersonate Harry Potter?"

"How do I do it?"

"Just prick your finger on this knife, and bleed into this inkwell."

Harry picked up the knife, a short one which looked purely ceremonial. One minor stabbing later, the cut was healed and the ink began to hover out of the inkwell, landing in perfect calligraphy on the parchment in front of him.

The writing read:

Harry Potter

Heir to Potter by inheritance after claiming.
Vault 687 - Trust Vault. Contents: 5,000 Galleons.
Vault 38 - Potter Family Vault. Contents: Various Heirlooms, Portraits etc. Deed to 54 Peverel Close, Godric's Hollow. 20,000 Galleons.
Heir to Gaunt by Right of Conquest after claiming.
Vault 223 - Gaunt Family Vault. Contents: Various Heirlooms, Portraits etc. Deed to 8 Hangleton way, Little Hangleton. Deed to Riddle Manor, Little Hangleton. Debt of 18,000 Galleons.
Possible Heir to Peverell - Must first posess the Deathly Hallows.
Possible Heir to Slytherin through Gaunt - Must first be no other heirs.
Hogwarts tutition for 7 years: 5,000 Galleons.
Total Inheritance: Potter Heirlooms, 54 Peverel Close (in disrepair), Gaunt Heirlooms, 8 Hangleton way (in disrepair), Riddle Manor, 2,000 Galleons.

Harry looked up from the paper. "How much is one Galleon in pounds?" he asked.

"At current exchange rates, about 5 pounds." The goblin replied.

Harry's head swam. £10,000! That was more money than he had ever seen in his life! Before he could start fantasizing, his rational side snapped in. He estimated that his school supplies would be about 50 galleons. For seven years would be 350 galleons, or £1750. Plus whatever extra expenses he incurred, another 50 galleons.

He would be left with £8000 after his schooling, which would hopefully tide him over until he found a job somewhere.

"Now Mr Potter, you should claim your Heirships. Just put on these rings."

Harry slid the rings onto his right first finger, where they subsequently disappeared, leaving behind two small stamps on his finger, a ceramic pot and a snake.

"If you want to call the rings, just press the stamps." Ironjaw informed him.

"Now, there's one other matter. All possible Heirs to Peverell are given information on the Deathly Hallows, because if you do manage to unite them, your account manager will manage the Peverell account. As it's one of the oldest accounts we have, it is a great honor to manage." The goblin slid him a file, lableled "Deathly Hallows". "Read this when you can."

Harry flipped through the file. Recurring motifs seemed to be a wand, stone and cloak. He decided to look at it later.

"Now, it's time to go through Heirlooms." Ironjaw informed him.

A/N: The big trope subverted here is that Harry goes to Gringotts and inherits 50 accounts, each with properties, money, titles and seats on the Wizengamot. As you can see, here he only gets enough money to tide him through school, but with hints that when he kills Voldemort, he'll inherit Slytherin.