Disclaimer: I own nothing other than the plot. The original concepts belong to JKR and Warner Brothers. The plot may seem similar to other Fictions, but has its own twists after the first few chapters.
Chapter 4: Gringotts
The first three weeks at Privet Drive were not actually as terrible as they had been before. It was greatly confusing to Harry, who had never been used to their kindness before. Following their return home, he had been allowed to keep his trunk, his wand, and his broom, all in his room. He had even been allowed to eat at the table with them, though it was tense and awkward. He figured by the time he woke up in the morning, his stuff would be gone, and he would be unable to leave his room.
Imagine his shock when that didn't happen. Though his relatives weren't sociable, not something new, they weren't being mean. At first, he wondered if there was some mind magic making them hate him, but that was a crazy idea. Who would want to do that anyways? It wasn't until the first weekend back that they even acknowledged their behavior.
"Sit boy, we need to talk." Vernon said, lacking much venom, and only marginal dislike.
"As you noticed, we are being kinder. Why? Because we hope it will keep incidents down. If you remain on good behavior, cook food and keep the kitchen clean, we will not lock you up, and you will be fed and free. All we ask is that we see none of your freakishness outside of your room, and that no one else sees it either."
Harry was shocked, yet couldn't help but ask, "Why? What changed?"
"After our actions last year, we realized that someone in your world must've figured out what we were doing. So long as none of that happens again, and you keep your ruddy owl quiet, we will be peaceful. We don't want any more visits from other freaks. The last two showed us that they won't listen and will do as they wish, so if we just leave you to your own devices, then maybe they won't come here."
Harry was shocked, but true to their word, they had been kinder to him. Sure, they had still called him 'freak' and 'boy', but they weren't stopping him from studying, writing to his friends, or eating a meal. It was… weird. They only made him cook, and talked to him without yelling or hitting him. Dudley, contrary to his past behavior, wasn't bullying him. Keeping count, he thought it was a record for the longest any of the occupants in the house had gone without physically hurting him in some way.
The first three weeks flew by, with Harry spending most of his time studying the books he had. He had borrowed the third year Ancient Runes text from Fred, and he was thoroughly enjoying reading it. In the first two weeks, he had read and memorized the beginner part of the Elder Fukhart rune alphabet, and though that was only three dozen runes, it was still something. Alongside that, he had read more into his Standard Book of Spells, Year 2. The reason being is that the teachers only ever covered the basic spells for each book, and there were over a hundred in each book. Some of the spells had different incantations, and did the same thing as another spell, or had different incantations to change how the spell behaved. He learned several useful things for when he was somewhere he could cast magic.
It was the 27th of July, when Vernon had another conversation with Harry.
"Boy, we need to talk." Vernon said. Harry looked up, watching him carefully.
"Marge is coming to visit on the 1st, and will be here for a week. I want you to be on your best behavior while she is here. We have told her that you attend St. Brutus' School for Unruly Children. I want you to stick to that story, and mind your manners with her while she is here. All of your freakish stuff should be put away before she arrives." Vernon said, not leaving any room for refusal. Harry, of course, saw a golden opportunity with this.
"Actually, Uncle, I may have a better idea." Vernon was shocked to see the boy suggest something, but decided to hear him out.
"I have a slip that needs to be signed. It allows us to visit a local village and buy things for school. If you were to sign it, I would be willing to instead go and stay somewhere else for the rest of the summer. Then you can tell Aunt Marge I am off getting into trouble again, and won't be here. I have some money, so you don't need to pay anything, and I will be fine on my own."
Harry watched his uncle carefully, knowing that a wrong word could get him in trouble. His uncle thought deeply for a minute, and looked to Petunia for any hint on how he should respond. She said nothing though.
"So I sign a form, and you leave? It costs us nothing, and you will not get in trouble?" Vernon asked. Harry nodded.
"Yes sir. I have a place I can stay, and I won't get into any trouble, and you won't have to see me until next summer." Harry responded.
Vernon looked like Christmas had come early. "Excellent, I will tell her you were required to stay for two weeks this summer for extra instruction on better behavior, and that you aren't returning until after she leaves. When can you be gone?" He asked. Harry ignored the remarks about slandering his name, as he didn't want to lose the progress he had made with his relatives.
"Tomorrow. I should be packed and ready to leave before lunch." Vernon nodded. He looked far more pleased with Harry than any would ever thing
July 28th, 1993
Dursley Residence
The next morning, Harry had awoken, and planned to have everything packed after breakfast, as most of his stuff was outside of his trunk. At breakfast, he presented his uncle with the permission slip. Vernon read over it, before signing it.
"Very well boy, as I work today, I won't see you again until next summer. Don't get yourself into trouble, as I won't help you out of it." He said, before going back to eating his eggs.
Harry slid the slip into his trunk as the tv played, discussing a prisoner who escaped custody. The anchor quickly got his attention.
"The man's name is Sirius Black, he is wanted after escaping a maximum security prison two days ago. He committed several counts of murder in 1981, and was arrested at the scene, laughing about the deaths he caused. He is said to be dangerous and possibly armed. He is mentally unstable, and should not be approached. If he is seen, call the hotline at the bottom of the screen." The news anchor said.
How? Azkaban is said to be unescapable, according to Neville. And why did he escape now. Is he after me? Or is it another reason? I need to be careful. Harry thought. Though his parents said he was innocent, and that Sirius had blood adopted him, he was still wary, as the photo of him shown made him look to be just as mad as everyone said he was.
The other question that popped into Harry's mind was why a wizard who escaped a wizard prison on the muggle telly. That surely couldn't have been normal. And how did the muggles know anyway. He frowned as Petunia looked out of every window, thinking the man just might walk up the street at any minute. Harry chuckled at the thought, as his luck would be that he is first to find the man.
It was only a few minutes before eleven that Harry had everything sorted in his trunk, and was ready to leave. As he approached the front door, he leaned into the sitting room.
"I am leaving, Aunt Petunia. I will see you next summer." Harry said, trying to hide his joy at leaving early.
"See you next summer. Don't contact us if you can help it." Petunia replied, barely looking up from the magazine she was reading.
Harry shrugged, and knowing that Dudley was over at the Perkins house, left, and headed to a quiet portion of the neighborhood. As he was about to draw his wand, he saw a black dog slowly walk from the bushes. It looked starved and pitiful, but not aggressive. Harry watched as it slowly approached.
Reaching his hand out, he let the dog sniff it, before slowly reaching up and rubbing the top of his ears. "Hi buddy, I would give you some food, but I am afraid I don't have any." He said quietly.
The dog whined, whether from the head scratches or the lack of food, Harry didn't know which. He felt bad for the dog though, as its hair was all tangled and messy, and it looked like it hadn't eaten in several days. Its pitiful gray eyes made him think of the days in the cupboard, when he was as hungry as the dog looked.
After a few moments, he slowly stood up, causing the dog to walk backwards. "Sorry boy, but I have to get going. I wish I could help you, but I don't have any food, and I doubt you could come to the cottage I am headed for." The dog let out a whine, before suddenly letting out a bark and running off into the brush.
Harry shrugged, not sure what to make of that, before looking around. After seeing no one, he raised his wand. It was only moments later when a bang went off, and a purple bus appeared, slowing to a stop directly in front of him. An acne ridden man slowly lowered himself down the steps, and read off a card.
"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this afternoon."
"Hello, I needed transportation to London, Diagon Alley specifically." Harry replied. The man, Stan, nodded.
"Eleven sickles, and we will have you there in three stops." he said. Harry withdrew the money, and handed it over, before pulling his trunk onto the bus. Harry really couldn't wait until he had a trunk that was enchanted to be featherlight.
The bus let off another bang, and launched Harry nearly out of his seat as it accelerated to speeds Harry didn't want to know.
"DOES THIS THING HAVE SEAT BELTS" Harry yelled. The conductor looked at him confused.
"Wha's a seatbelt?" Stan asked. Harry huffed, now knowing what Neville meant when
Neville said 'the bus is generally a last resort for travel for magical folk.'
It was fifteen incredibly tense minutes later when the bus came to a stop outside of the pub. After hauling his trunk off the bus, he entered and approached the barman, Tom, who had always been helpful when he had been there. After greeting the man, Harry asked him if he was able to hold onto his trunk.
"Tom, do you have a space for me to leave my trunk here while I visit Gringotts? I don't want to be dragging it through the alley." Harry asked.
"Of course. It costs a sickle, but I guarantee that it will not be touched." Tom replied.
After paying the sickle, Harry left, and made his way through the brick barrier to the alley. Thankfully, as a Wednesday, the alley wasn't incredibly busy, so it was a rather quick walk to the marble masterpiece. The goblins at the door merely eyed Harry, like they do to all wizards, as he entered the bank. It was fortunately only a moment's wait before he was walking up to a teller.
"Greetings Teller. I wished to make an inquiry about my vaults." Harry spoke, being as respectful as he could.
"Very well, name?" the teller responded.
"Harry Potter."
The teller frowned, before pulling out a pushpin and a piece of parchment. "We need to confirm your identity, wizard. Poke your finger and allow a drop of blood to fall on the parchment. If you are lying, we will know."
Harry followed the instructions, and the goblin nodded, before speaking again. "One moment, Mr. Potter. I will go see if the Potter Account Manager has time for you to visit him."
With that, the goblin got up, and walked off through a set of doors down the wall. It was three minutes later when he returned.
"Follow me, Mr. Potter. Your manager is quite eager to speak with you." The goblin said.
Harry followed him, and through the set of doors he saw several security guards, all watching him. They didn't move, so Harry believed they were always there. It was a short walk through the stone and marble halls before they reached their destination. A door, black painted, with a gold plate.
Account manager Axrak
Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter
Harry was shocked at the title, but focused on what was happening. The goblin knocked on the door, and after barely moving his hand away, a voice called out, "ENTER"
The goblin looked at Harry, and with a smile that sent a visible shiver down Harry's back, gestured to the door. "Good luck, Mr. Potter"
Though he was now alarmed, Harry still replied, "Thank you for your assistance, Teller."
He watched the goblin turn and begin to walk away, before reaching and twisting the door handle. With a light push, he entered the office. It was sparsely decorated, with bookshelves lining most of the walls. There were three chairs in front of a large desk, and behind that desk was an older goblin, who was presumably Axrak. Harry eyed the axes mounted behind the goblin, as he walked further into the room and shut the door.
'So you finally decided to visit me, Mr. Potter. Pray, tell me why you have disrespected me, and Gringotts as a whole, when you ignored the summons we have sent you, requesting a meeting since your first visit here in August of 1991!" The goblin snarled out.
Now, Harry was more than a little scared of the goblin, especially after listening to Binns go on about them, but he was also tired of being accused of things he hadn't done, especially after this past school year.
"I apologize for any disrespect I have shown to Gringotts, sir. However, I never received anything from Gringotts before, so I had no idea you wished to meet with me." Harry replied.
"I have sent you over a dozen missives to meet with me. And you want me to believe you have never gotten them?" Axrak snarled, standing and leaning with his hands on his desk.
"Whether you believe me or not, I have never received mail from Gringotts. I would have noticed had I received a request to meet with you." Harry said, letting a little frustration into his voice, though the sarcasm was beginning to be let out.
The goblin paused, stopping himself from retorting as Harry's words bounced through his head. "Never? You have never gotten mail from Gringotts?"
"Never!" Harry replied firmly. The goblin stood there, stunned, before shouting something in a language Harry didn't understand.
Look at Harry, he spoke. "This is being investigated as we speak. We have been sending you monthly account statements, as well as requests to meet with you." Axrak took a deep breath, lowering himself back into his chair, and gesturing to the one in the middle for Harry to sit in, "I am Axrak, the Potter Account Manager. My clan has served your family for nearly four hundred years, and I am the third to work for your family."
"I am Harry Potter, of course, you knew that." Harry said, realizing he sounded stupid as he did. There was a knock on the door, before a goblin walked in. It spoke in the other language, and Axrak responded, clearly displeased, before dismissing the goblin.
"You were speaking the truth. Someone has blocked people from writing to you. We will investigate this, as it is illegal to block mail from Gringotts, and is a violation of the peace treaties signed hundreds of years ago." He spoke, he was angry, but controlling himself quite well.
"Now, I assume you are here to claim your heirship, along with finding out what your vaults have?" Axrak asked.
"Yes… wait, vaults? As in plural, more than one?" Harry asked.
"Yes Mr. Potter, there are multiple vaults. Before we can discuss them, we need to do an inheritance test, and as the Potters have always done when they were children, an abilities test. It's uncommon to have many abilities, but the Potters always have something, and they like to know it." Axrak said.
The goblin produced two sheets of parchment, another pin, and a vial of liquid. "As you do with an identity test, we will need blood. Seven drops into this vial, which when poured on the parchments with ruins on the back, will reveal your inheritances according to blood and magic, along with any abilities." He said.
Following the instructions, he gave the required blood, and after the potion was swirled, it was poured onto the parchments. It looked like they absorbed the liquid, before they glowed, and writing appeared. The goblin read the Inheritance piece before handing it to Harry.
Hadrian James Potter-Black
Son of Lily Marie Potter, nee Evans
Son of James Charles Potter
Blood adopted son of Sirius Orion Black III
Heir Apparent to the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter
Heir Apparent to the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Black
Heir Apparent to the Extinct House of Slytherin
Harry frowned at his results, not quite understanding the results. He hadn't thought to look into what his father might have meant about being the heir, but his father had said that he left information about it in the vault. He was shocked to see the red ink, showing that he was the Heir of Slytherin, though what extinct meant, he wondered. The goblin then held out the second sheet of parchment, and Harry immediately read it.
Abilities Test -Hadrian James Potter-Black
Occlumency, Natural, Rating III
Parslic, Full, Rating IV, Maternal
Wandless Magic, Full, Rating IV, Paternal
Harry frowned. "What does all of this mean?"
"Well, firstly, you need to don the Heir of House Potter and the Heir of House Black rings. They grant you access to the Heir vaults, and provide protections. The Potter ring, for instance, protects the wearer from potions and poisons. I do not know what the House Black ring does."
He stopped speaking English, and was speaking in another language. Suddenly, he switched to English again, "In just a moment, the rings will be here for you to put on."
Harry thought he was joking about 'just a moment', but it was seriously only thirty seconds of silence later when a goblin entered the room with three small boxes. He sat them down on the desk, before walking back out, not saying a word in the process.
"Mr. Potter, please start with the Potter Ring, on the right. You should put it on your right ring finger. If it doesn't accept you, it will simply return to the box like it is enchanted to do."
Harry slowly reached out and opened the right box. He was shocked to see a smooth golden band, with a red ruby on it. Around the gem, it had an engraving in latin, though he didn't understand what it said. Slowly, he removed the ring from the box, and slid it onto his finger. It sat loosely for a moment, before it glowed golden, and shrunk to fit his finger. The ring was surprisingly warm, though that too faded after a moment.
"Congratulations, Heir Potter. Now, the middle box, if you please. It is the House Black ring. This too, will go on the ring finger, and it will merge into the Potter ring, as will the Slytherin ring." Axrak said.
Following the same process, Harry opened up the middle box, revealing the Black Heir ring. Set on a platinum decorated band, it had an Onyx gemstone with carvings of what Harry thought to be French, Toujours Pur, though he didn't know what it meant. Sliding the ring on, it too glowed, and shrank to fit his finger, a little warmth radiating off the band.
With some prompting, Harry then took the last ring, another platinum band, with a deep emerald gemstone set in it, a snake etched into the surface of the gem. He slid it on as well, and it shrank, and warmth flowed onto his skin, almost too hot, before it faded and became comfortable.
"Now, Heir Potter-Black. I am sure you are wondering what the 'Extinct House of Slytherin' is?" Axrak asked, getting a nod in return.
"The 'Extinct' part of that, means the family has died out, and been gone for more than five hundred years. That being said, by law, you are not required to marry in order to continue the line, as it is already dead. If you want my suggestion, tell no one of your status in relation to the family. Most who have claimed that name have gone down dark paths, and you do not wish to be associated with them."
"Now, how you became the heir is a different story. If I were to guess, it comes from your mother's side of the family. The true line of slytherin squibbed out in the early 800's, just a single generation after Salazar Slytherin. His only son had a single child who was born a squib and the two, along with the son's wife, left the world of magic. My best guess would be that as there were no other family members, the heirship continued to fall until magic returned to the family. Though your mother would still be a muggleborn, she had a history far older than most could claim, and she probably never knew it." Axrak said.
"Interesting, so that means I inherited parseltongue naturally, not by some transfer of powers?" Harry asked. That was what Dumbledore had told him. He had said that Harry got parseltongue from Voldemort the night his parents died, though he did not explain how.
"No Heir Potter-Black. That is entirely impossible. Powers cannot be transferred to one another." Axrak responded.
Harry nodded. "What else do we need to go over?"
That started a two hour long meeting, in which they went through the Potter accounts. As Harry was the Heir, and there was no Lord or Regent, he was required to make decisions about investments, especially as no one had been making those decisions since his father had passed.
It was then that Harry discovered that he was rich. As in, he would never need to work a day in his life, and yet would still earn money off of investments. Before the basilisk carcass, there were over two million galleons in the Potter Family vault, though the value had dropped due to investments not being able to be made. Gringotts offered to buy it, for a further three million, though Harry declined at the moment. The Black Family vaults were still sealed until the Lord Apparent, Sirius Black, claimed it.
Harry also was informed his trust vault was set to always be filled to twenty thousand galleons, refilled on his birthday every year. Apparently, it was monitored by Dumbledore, who could see what was taken out of it. Which caused a new problem.
"I was hoping to do some shopping, and not let Dumbledore find out about it. He has been lying to me and keeping things from me. Do I have any vaults I can access that he isn't monitoring?" Harry asked.
Axrak frowned, before yelling out in the other language.
"What language is that?" Harry asked.
"If you ask a wizard, it is Gobbledegook, though that is an insult. We call it goblin-tongue." He said, before there was a knock on the door, and another goblin walked in.
"You requested me, Axrak?" The goblin asked.
"Yes, Heir Potter-Black wishes to know if he has any vaults under the Black name, as Dumbledore monitors all of the Potter vaults he has access to." Axrak responded.
The goblin turned to Harry. "Ah, Heir Potter-Black, I am Bakrod, the account manager for the Black Family."
"Hadrian Potter-Black, both of you please, call me Harry." he responded. They both nodded as Bakrod sat down next to Harry.
"To answer the question, yes. There is a Heir vault with twenty five thousand galleons in it, refilled the first of every year, for the heir to use. There is also a personal vault, made by Sirius Black, for you, Harry. It has fifty thousand galleons, and I was told to pass you a message, if Sirius wasn't the one to tell you." Bakrod said.
"This vault is for you to spend to have fun, and bag a few witches. Don't be afraid to spend the money on pointless things"
Harry sat in thought, before nodding. "Can I get keys to the vaults?"
The goblin nodded, before eying Harry. "You were raised in the muggle world, were you not?" Harry nodded, "Have you seen a healer since you were reintroduced to the magical world?"
"I have seen Madam Pomfrey?" Harry responded, causing the goblin to sigh.
"No, she is a medi-witch, not a full healer. She can heal short term injuries, and treat minor illness, or provide a general diagnosis. I will send you to one of our personal healers. You are too small for your age, and you should not be wearing glasses. Do not worry about the cost, it can be paid for with the Black Family Vault, as is in the agreements between the House of Black and Gringotts."
Harry nodded, and after filling out a few more forms, and getting a key, along with being informed that the heir rings can be used to pay for purchases, Harry left the office, following Axrak to another part of the bank.
"This is the area curse breakers work in, along with our healers, who often attend them, or to customers who opt to use our healer services. Ours is far better than St. Mungos, or private healers, as we are on Sovereign land, and have more avenues to heal someone." Axrak explained.
After talking to a man at a desk, Harry was led to a room, and Axrak said he was leaving to start bringing the estate up to date. Harry sat there alone for a few minutes, before a woman walked in. After greetings were done, she proceeded to scan him several times, and asked quite a few questions, including questions about the basilisk venom and the phoenix tears in his blood. After she was done, she sighed.
"You are in need of Skele-gro, to help heal your bones the rest of the way, and bring them back to their natural density, as well as a Nutritional potion to heal your malnourishment. I would also suggest, but it is not required, you to take one of our special brews. I cannot tell you what is in it, but it basically encourages the body to grow towards its peak condition over several weeks. It costs two thousand galleons, and is worth doing, as it would reduce the time you need Skele-gro and the nutritional potion to only a week." The healer said.
Harry thought about it, before agreeing to the potion. He highly doubted that Sirius would complain, and if he did, Harry would just give him the money back, even if he had to pay interest on it. The healer left to grab some things, before returning.
"You need to take these twelve. The first eight are immunizations against wizard-illnesses, like Dragonpox. The ninth one is our special brew, the tenth and eleventh are the Skele-gro and nutritional potion, and the last one is to heal your eyes. It will cause your eyes to blur and have a burning sensation for roughly ten minutes after you drink it, but your vision will be near perfect afterwards. Take that one last."
Harry sighed, knowing they were likely to all taste horrible. It was nearly shocking to discover only Skele-gro tasted so horrible. The rest all had some normal flavor, or in the eye potion, no flavor, though that one felt like he was drinking vegetable oil. THe healer hadn't lied about the burning sensation. It burned… a lot.
Harry sighed in relief when it was finally over, and the healer laughed at his reaction to being able to see properly. He was quite glad to toss his glasses in the rubbish bin.
"Now, there are only three things left I wish to discuss with you. I had to talk to some others for advice and information. Firstly, though I wouldn't test it, I believe you will have some immunity to poisons due to the Basilisk venom. Your blood has become some form of alchemy, and I cannot fathom how it may affect you. Though I can say, never donate blood." She said with a severe look on her face, one that really intimidated poor Harry.
He was quick to nod in agreement.
"I would also recommend a scar ointment. You have several scars, including the famous one on your forehead, that can be healed by many different ointments. Any of these can be picked up at an Apothecary. Next is the traces of dark magic in your scar on your forehead." She stopped, frowning.
"There is an odd residue, but it is fading quickly. I believe there was some stronger magic anchored to it, though I have no idea what it was. It is gone now though, so I wouldn't worry about it anymore." She said, causing Harry to release a breath he didn't know he was holding.
"Lastly, and most concerningly, was several bindings, all of which are broken. From my guesses, this was another thing caused by the Basilisk venom. There was a core binding, which from the scans, blocked roughly half of your magic. There was another, reducing your ability to think logically, and remember everything you learned. Both are gone, with traces of being there in the past. Otherwise, you are doing good. Your organs are functioning properly, and I have no concerns about your magic. I would recommend that with the core binding gone, you go see a wandmaker and check your compatibility, but otherwise you are free to go." She spoke, handing Harry a box with his doses of potions for the next week.
He made his way, with an escort, back to the entrance to the bank. And he decided he would go eat, and get a room for the night, and do his shopping tomorrow. He was tired, and was beyond ready for a hot meal.