Harry Potter and The Order Of The Basilisk

by IdkbutIsortado

Starts post-3rd-year. Harry learns the ways of the wizarding world and becomes smarter, stronger and more adept at life in general. The wizarding war will be more interesting. The muggle world will be somewhat relevant, along with Europe in general because I think there was potential wasted.

3. OoTB Chapter 3

OotB Part 3

The minecart ride was fairly normal for a fair part of the way until they reached the lower depths of the bank. The Potters, being a most noble and ancient house, had their main vault in the very depths of Gringotts, protected by all manner of creatures. During the journey, Harry had caught glimpses of many magical creatures including all manner of dragons, what appeared to be griffins and even a manticore. He gulped as he remembered back to reading Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and the stories about all of the creatures he was seeing.

However, as the minecart branched off, into a large cavern, he caught sight of one of the most dangerous creatures in the world: the Chimaera. It had the body of a goat, the tail of a dragon, and a lion's head. Chimaeras had magic-resistant skin and were extremely fast and strong, adding to that, they could breathe fire making them as dangerous as creatures came. Only one Chimaera had ever been killed and the victor had allegedly fallen off his winged horse due to exhaustion after said fight.

Harry knew that Gringotts had some serious security measures, but this was the next level.

"Come, Mr. Potter," Ripclaw called over his shoulder as he walked towards a row of large metal doors each with a number on the wall next to it. The doors were spaced around thirty metres apart. Ripclaw led Harry around the edge of the cavern as several goblins emerged and started shaking metal objects, making loud ringing clashes which reverberated around the chamber, exacerbating the already terrible sound.

As he and Ripclaw hurried to a slightly covered area, the sounds suddenly cut off as silencing wards took effect, presumably so that the powerful purebloods wouldn't be disturbed as they visited.

Soon enough, Ripclaw stopped before one of the more foreboding vault doors. As Harry looked upon it, he noticed several coats of arms on the door. Near the centre, there appeared to be both the simplest and oldest of all; a triangle encasing a circle which touched all edges and a straight line down the middle. Directly underneath was the coat of arms of the Potter family. And below that in a pyramid shape were around another dozen family emblems.

"What are all of the emblems?" Harry asked, frowning up at them.

"They are the emblems of several families absorbed into the Potter line. The most note-worthy being that of the Peverells, at the top. There are also the families of Fleamont, Whitmoth, Dambury, and Haxon. They were the most recent additions, the rest were merged with the Potters before the founding of the Ministry of Magic in 1709.

"So many?" Harry questioned not knowing quite how many families had become part of his.

"Yes, the potters certainly knew how to make friends, when a family was close to dying out it was commonplace for other families to try to absorb them through marriage or combat. But the Potters decided to try to assist these families, sometimes continuing them through marriage or gaining enough favour to have control of them shifted over to them if their assistance failed to continue the family."

"Wow, there's still so much I don't know about my own family," Harry murmured.

As Ripclaw pressed his hand against the vault door and slid a key into a barely visible keyhole, he beckoned Harry over and instructed him to cut his hand with the offered silver dagger, and then press it against the door.

Harry and Ripclaw then retreated from the door and watched as the door melted in front of them, revealing the contents of the vault. Stacks upon stacks of galleons were piled around the vault, along with suits of armour, weapons, and enough jewellery for every girl in Hogwarts. There were also bookcases filled with tomes ancient and new. Crates of valuable materials such as parts of manticores, acromantula, dragons and even a large jar labelled 'basilisk venom concentrate, 73%' It was filled with a neon green, viscous fluid and felt much denser than a jar that size should. There were also several sets of clothes to befit a lord and even a couple of pairs of battle robes from the Grindelwald days with the mark of the British wizarding forces on them.

As Harry looked through the vault he eventually got to the back of the vault where, hidden behind the piles of galleons, he found the Potter Family Grimoire. It was suspended midair above a marble pedestal and even Harry could feel the magic rolling off it. It was something Harry had discovered last year. He could, if it was strong enough, feel magic and identify it. He hadn't noticed it at the time, but looking back, he had known what Sirius and Lupin had been trying to hit Pettigrew with before it had happened.

He knew that the grimoire was very heavily protected and should someone, not a Potter attempt to touch it without the head of the family's permission, the consequences would be more than dire for that person.

Tentatively, he reached out and as his skin made contact with the ancient book, his mind's eye was filled with images of potters through the ages writing in it. A man with extremely good hair, a man with several soot marks on him, a woman surrounded by books, a woman with unkempt hair, and a kindly old man. All of them merely a few faces of hundreds. All of them having created something in this book. All of them family.

As Harry tentatively looked through a few random pages, he found many spells or products he recognised; Sleekeazies hair gel, Skelegro, pepperup potion and Burnda's burn salve were all still in use across wizarding Britain. But there were also many spells inside, spells to turn the consistency of earth liquid, to destroy shields, to disappear, to heal minor cuts, to briefly increase strength and many others.

"Ah, you have found it then," Ripclaw said from the entrance, "the Potter family grimoire is one of the largest secured in Gringotts. Which is no surprise considering their history of inventions."

Harry paid the goblin little attention as his eyes caught sight of a roll of tapestries next to a rack of portraits. As he moved closer, he saw there was a transparent sheet over them to protect them from dust. As he pulled the cloth off, the portraits were unfrozen from whatever charm they were under and began to start to groan as if waking from a deep sleep.

"Hey, you! Who are you? Where are we?" asked a man from the portrait at the front. Near the bottom of the frame was the caption: Fleamont and Euphemia Potter 1904-1980 and 1906-1980. When there was no immediate answer, Fleamont questioned further, "Well?"

Harry, who was still trying to find his voice upon the realisation that this was his grandfather, the man whose final stand he had just witnessed, eventually brought himself to talk.

"I- you, you're my grandfather." Was all he managed.

"Oh, is that so?" the man answered, his expression softening, "You would be Harry then?" at Harry's nod he continued, "Well then, where are the rest? Where are James and Lily? Your siblings?"

"I-. They- I'm all that's left of the Potters. My parents are dead. I have no siblings." Harry explained, barely keeping it together. It was the first time he'd ever had to tell anyone that since finding out the truth. "Voldemort got to them in '81."

At this, all the portraits stilled, murmurs of disbelief flitting between them. Fleamont and Euphemia paling considerably.

"G-gone?" croaked Fleamont. "H-how? They were under Fidelius."

"Pettigrew betrayed them. Then framed Sirius before killing a dozen muggles to fake his death." Harry told them.

"Peter?" Euphemia gasped, "He could never! He was always so sweet. And he loved his friends."

"I heard it from both Lupin and Sirius. And then Peter, before he escaped." Harry said, bitterly remembering Pettigrew's escape, his temper rising at the thought of the cowardly rat.

"Unbelievable," Fleamont whispered. "They were always so tight-knit."

"Next time, you should tear the bastard limb from limb!" shouted a voice from further back. Followed by an admonishment. Harry reached behind Fleamont and Euphemia to find another painting showing a couple.

"I do apologise for Charlus' language," said the woman while shooting a glare at the somewhat sheepish man. "And he is too Isn't he?"

"Erm, yes. Sorry old chap." He said, "Although I stand by my statement." He added, ducking the slap his wife aimed at the back of his head. "Charlus, by the way. I imagine you could guess my surname" he grinned.

"And I'm Dorea, his long-suffering wife," the woman said.

"Dorea, aren't you the black in the family?" Harry asked, certain he'd heard of her before.

"Yes, I am. My brother was Arcturus, this idiot's friend. His portrait should be in Grimmauld Place, assuming that god-awful woman didn't get any power in the family."

"Yes well, I'm sure Harry could talk to the current black lord, and see if he could help," Charlus interrupted, "If Sirius was framed that would make his brother the heir before anyone else and despite his mistakes, Regulus loved his brother."

"There is no current head of house," Harry butted in, "Regulus disappeared just after Fleamont died, and Walburga died when she attempted to kill Arcturus when she heard he was leaving the lordship to Sirius. Bellatrix is in Azkaban. Sirius is still believed to be a mass murderer. Narcissa decided not to take up the mantle, but her son Draco will so Lucius gets more political power and wealth. Other than that and Cassiopeia Black, who nobody has seen in fifty years, I'm the only other not cast out of the family" He explained.

Having come across the family's reputation he had thought it would be a good idea to look into who the current head of house was. Upon the conclusion of his research, Harry concluded that there were four people of eligible claim to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, one of the most infamous families of all time. These people were Cassiopeia black, Narcissa Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, and Harry Potter.

Cassiopeia had the strongest claim as the previous lord's older sister, but she had not been seen in Britain in five decades and it was unclear if she even still lived. Narcissa Malfoy, as the second granddaughter of the previous lord, had a relatively weak claim, her son an even weaker one. Harry, as the great-grandson of the previous lord's younger sister, had a slightly stronger claim than Draco. However, if Sirius, as the last heir, had left everything he had to Harry, he could have a rock-solid claim that would even put him before Cassiopeia Black.

"Then you should go and speak to the black account manager and family lawyer, we can under no circumstances let that shithead Malfoy get even more power. Not after killing Flea! If I were you, I would declare a blood feud between the Potters and Blacks against the Malfoys for their transgressions against us!" Charlus declared gleefully. Much to the agreement of all the other portraits.

"I can't yet, I'm not emancipated, and I also probably couldn't win a duel against a death eater. I can only body bind, disarm or stun people at best." Harry explained ruefully.

"Then look at our many books! We have one of the best libraries outside of public institutions and Hogwarts. You can take several of them with you. And you should probably do the Potter Ritual. It will help you and all the necessary items can be found here. All our properties have training rooms in them. Go there. If you put effort in, you'll be one of the best duellists at Hogwarts by the end of the year." Fleamont explained.

"And sort out the Black family Harry, we have some of the most unpleasant curses known to man." Dorea piped up.

"I will thank you, all of you." Harry promised, "Now, about those properties we apparently have? I don't want to stay with my aunt and uncle for any longer than possible." He then asked.

"Good god, you didn't really end up with them, did you?" Euphemia gasped, remembering the few occasions she had met her daughter-in-law's sister and her husband. "Then you should definitely move out. I believe the one in Gloucester is still in good nick isn't it Flea?" she asked Fleamont.

"No. I mean, yes it should be relatively well kept. But I don't know if you want to live where I made my last stand against the fuckers." He corrected.

"That was at the Gloucester one?" Charlus asked with a smirk. "Ironic, isn't it Dor? That was where we spent our first night married. And where you were conceived. Man, that was a goo-" he continued before Dorea covered his mouth, blushing.

"Charlus! Not in front of Harry." She admonished, glaring at the guffawing Harry and cringing Fleamont. "May I suggest the London one? There should still be an elf assigned, assuming Baldrick is still around. And it's near enough to Diagon and King's Cross." She suggested.

At the mention of Baldrick, Fleamont and Charlus burst out laughing, much to Dorea's and Euphemia's annoyance. "Honestly, Flea. Why on earth did you have to name the poor elf Baldrick?"

"Well, he looked a bit like Baldrick the Bureaucratic, so I thought…."

"Baldrick the Bureaucratic?" Harry asked amusedly.

"Oh yes, he was a wizard a couple of hundred years ago, and he pissed off so many purebloods by interrupting while they were talking in the wizengamot to tell them that what they were talking about went against some extremely obscure law that he was beaten to death in the Wizengamot chambers. No one found out until his wife reported him missing and Abraham Potter leaked the news of what had happened, leading to his escape to America, where our cousins are still held in high regard. He was the only name I remembered from old Binns' lectures." Fleamont explained gleefully. "Baldrick died explaining to the chamber that his being beaten to death was, in fact, unacceptable as his attacker hadn't declared a duel yet and was therefore forfeit the rewards usually granted for winning one." Fleamont finished with a chuckle. "He was even starting work on his own death certificate as the lord Yaxley removed his head from his shoulders."

"And you named the elf after him?" Harry chuckled. "I get the feeling you would have gotten on with the Weasley twins nowadays. They barely make it through a week without pranking someone."

"The Weasleys? So they made it through the war, did they? Those Prewett siblings were certainly a team and a half." Fleamont smiled.

"Anyway, we're off-topic. We were talking about Harry here finding a safe house." Dorea interrupted

"The London one," Harry decided, "and, before I forget, which books should I take a look at?" Harry questioned.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After about an hour inside, Harry exited the vault with a considerable stack of books, some battle robes and a pair of enchanted goblin silver daggers, which had been exposed to basilisk venom, and nundu blood, two of the most powerful toxins in the world.

"Mr. Potter, is your business now concluded?" Ripclaw asked.

"Erm, one second," Harry answered, trying to balance everything, "you wouldn't have a better way of transporting all of this stuff, would you? I suspect the cart ride back would be detrimental to their condition." Harry asked. In lieu of an answer, the goblin pointed to a trunk near the entrance to the vault.

"That trunk should be expanded on the inside." He explained, "You should also be able to shrink it
down to fit it in your pocket. There also charms so that it is light and durable and so on."

Harry thanked him as he carefully deposited everything in the trunk's labelled compartments. Except for the pair of daggers and a wand holster. He strapped the wand holster to his right arm before inserting his wand and after flicking his wrist, his wand jumped into his hand. After replacing his wand, Harry then strapped the first dagger to his left leg and the other to his left wrist. Charlus and Fleamont had both impressed the importance of having a close combat weapon upon him. Charlus had famously dispatched Grindelwald's spymaster in close combat with one of these daggers.

"I will now be residing at the Potter London property. Should you need me, I will be reachable there, it may even solve my mail problem." Harry decided. "But for future reference, how can I speak to the Black family lawyer and account manager?" Harry asked, intrigued as to Ripclaw's reaction. He knew the power he would have as both Lord Black and Potter. Ripclaw's only reaction was a twitch of his eyebrow and a slight smirk.

"All you would have to do is write a letter to senior account manager Ringbone requesting a meeting with him and the family lawyer. Ringbone does not take kindly to surprise visitors, even you. I would request an appointment at his earliest convenience." He suggested.

"Thank you. I have a lot to consider." Harry thanked the goblin once they were at the end of the hallway to the main lobby. "Until we meet again and may your gold flow and your enemies die by your axe." Harry bid Ripclaw farewell, shaking his hand before exiting the bank into the alley.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Manager Ripclaw, the king has requested your presence." A goblin dressed in the traditional goblin messenger garb approached Ripclaw. "It seems the presence of Harry Potter has caught his interest."

"Very well. Lead the way." Ripclaw sighed, already thinking up answers to his exultancy's questions.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry found himself in a neighbourhood of London where he definitely felt out of place. Maybe because he had seen the average price of a house in one of Petunia's magazines, or maybe it was the grand architecture, but Belgravia was not somewhere he had ever envisioned living. It was possibly the most expensive place to live in London, with the average house costing over fourteen-and-three-quarters of a million* and many embassies were nearby. This was where the Potters had their London house which they had built in 1736 as Britain began to rise to prominence.

Harry had already been to Privet Drive and collected his things, leaving a note to the Dursleys. He had sent Hedwig off earlier and she would probably arrive soon. Pulling himself from his thoughts he looked up at the building.

The house was magnificent, with a white overcoat of paint, it looked similar to the others adjacent to it. But even just looking at it Harry could tell it was very secure, with almost every ward known to the Potter family in use. Only the ancestral manor and cottage had more protections, but they had been in continual use for centuries. Until 1980, at which point the Potter Family was decimated.

'Never again.' Harry vowed, 'Soon, the Potter family will be as renowned as the Blacks for their ruthlessness against those that had wronged them.'

As Harry walked forward and opened the door to the house, a house elf appeared before him with a crack. The elf seemed to be old, far older than Dobby or many of the Hogwarts elves.

"Whos be yous who enters the home of the Potters?" the elf questioned dangerously, levitating a pair of swords above him.

"I am the heir Potter, this is my house and if you were to attack me here behind the wards, you would be dead before you could blink," Harry said emboldened by the knowledge that the house's wards would protect him from harm, having looked it up in a book in the vault detailing the many Potter properties and their respective wards.

The elf paused for a moment, before studying Harry and then closing his eyes. Quickly, he stood up straight and returned the swords to the holders on the wall.

"Heir Potter, my apologies. I's was not expecting your arrival. Welcome to Blackadder House. What can I's be doing for you?" the elf, presumably Baldrick, asked.

"For the moment not much, just your awareness of my presence here. I plan to mostly use the rooms in the basement." Harry explained to the elf.

"Very good sir." The elf said before popping away.

After a moment Harry proceeded through the house up to the master bedroom. One of the advantages of being either heir or lord Potter was that you instinctively knew about the layout of all Potter properties.

As soon as he found the master bedroom, Harry allowed himself to simply fall onto the mattress and succumb to the exhaustion caused by the emotional nature of the day.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next day found Harry reading through the books from the Potter Vault. There were spells in those books capable of crushing the average Auror firesquad. Spells capable of creating localised storms of deadly hail. Spells to destroy battlefields and men alike. But also spells to close large cuts, fix bones, and regrow organs.

Harry digested all of it, from the worst of curses to the most used of medical spells to archaic elemental magic. He then proceeded to the training rooms in the basement and tried some out on training dummies. Many of the spells came tricky at first, however, after several hours of attempts, Harry cast the first of the elemental spells he had spent the day focussing on.

The result was that a bolt of purple lightning shot from the tip of his wand with a huge bang and decimated a cluster of dummies. The force of the spell left Harry on his back, several feet away from where he was previously standing.

Harry stood back up just in time to see Baldrick pop into the room, his swords at the ready, before rushing over to Harry.

"Master Potter sir! Is yous being okay? Baldrick heard the noise and feared yous was in trouble." He attempted to tell Harry who couldn't hear anything as his ears were still ringing.

"I'm fine baldrick. Don't worry. That spell was just more powerful than I was expecting." Harry explained away the elf as the ringing slowly started to fade.

"If I mays sir? What spell was it?" Baldrick asked, "For practising of some spells the wards needings to be activated." He pointed to a rune array by the door.

"Uhm, it was this one here," Harry said looking at the old tome from the Vault. "Pessulum Virtutis; bolt of power. Created in the fourteenth century by Dolgow Desturinije. It creates a bolt of coloured lightning which can cause major injury and death to those who find themselves on the receiving end. First used it to kill a pack of werewolves terrorising a city in western Ireland. Wand movement: none, merely the incantation. Can be nonverbal." Harry read the excerpt from the book. "It's elemental magic." He summed up.

"Ah pessulum virtutis. Your father attempted the same spell here when he was your age. His was not quite with the power of yours, although it had the same effect. I seem to remember masters Fleamont and Charlus very funny until mistresses Euphemia and Dorea came in." the Elf recalled fondly. "But yes, elemental spells be needing the wards up to protect the house. To activate them just tap the runes here." He said pointing to a trio of runes on the wall.

"Oh, thanks Baldrick." Harry said. "but I think I've used enough of the day, there are some things I have to do. I expect you know where to find me though." He said.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sitting at his desk, Harry looked down at the letters he had written to the manager of the Black family account and the Black family lawyer. They both expressed Harry's interest as a scion of House Black in a meeting with their recipient to discuss the future of the family.

Satisfied with his efforts, Harry sent the letters off with Hedwig, and simply let himself relax. In a matter of days, his life had turned on its head. He had discovered that he had essentially been running on fumes. And now, he felt like he could keep going forever.

That spell from earlier was easily comparable to a fully formed patronus in the amount of energy needed to perform it. While after casting his patronus for Sirius, Harry could tell he had used up a decent amount of his magic, now he felt he could go on and on and on.

He now lived in a house worth millions, and was friends with a curse-breaker who was also the daughter of Nicolas and Perenell Flamel. He was to be one of the most politically powerful people in Britain upon his seventeenth birthday.

And then there was the weird encounter with Luna. He had also done what she had suggested, and written to all of the families the Potter Family had been allied or friendly with all he had to do was send them. He had a sneaking suspicion that the Lovegoods would be the first to respond, they were known for their shrewdness among some. Among others, however, they were seen to be insane, a view not helped by Xenophilius' articles in the Quibbler.

As he was already there, Harry decided to quickly pen a letter to Katie, Ron and Hermione to tell them where they could find him. As Hedwig was away, Harry called out:

"Baldrick!"

"Sir?"

"Do you know if we have another way to deliver mail? Hedwig is away on business and I have a lot of letters to deliver." Harry said, gesturing to the stack of letters he had accumulated.

"Of course sir. Baldrick can deliver them." The elf replied. He then took the letters and popped away to deliver them.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Several days later found Harry training in the basement of Blackadder House, practising spell chains on dummies. He was midway through a chain when the wards alerted him to a human presence attempting to gain access to the House. The main difference between the Potter and Black wards was the fact that the Potter wards didn't instantly kill anyone attempting to gain access, thus Harry could briefly open them to allow the person in.

As he came up the stairs into the kitchen, he found an owl sitting on the table. He instantly recognised the owl as Luna's animagus form, its silvery eyes unmistakable.

Already knowing he was in for a conversation and a half, harry simply nodded and sat down at the table.

A/N:

Apologies for the long wait, and short chapter, the story isn't really coming to me well and that doesn't seem like it will change any time soon. There will probably be a while until the next update (even by my standards). Until then folks….

*roughly 30 mil today and then calculated back to 1994 (I looked at a couple of estate agents to find similar prices to these. Its fucking nuts how much people will spend to live in central London)