Chapter 20: A Final Prank
Dumbledore was worried.
First, he had been rebuffed in his attempt to apologize to Sirius. He was only now coming to terms with the consequences of his mistakes regarding the wizard. Sirius had been named Harry's godfather, and now that he had been exonerated, it was only a matter of time before he petitioned for guardianship of the boy.
To make matters worse, the wards around Privet Drive had suddenly and inexplicably fallen—shattered, more like, as if they had never existed at all.
Yes, he was worried.
He had Apparated to Privet Drive to inspect what remained of the wards—or, in this case, the lack of them. Magic always left traces, and it became clear to him at once: Harry no longer considered Privet Drive his home.
Dumbledore sighed, smoothing a hand over his beard before adjusting his outlandish robes. He suspected some of the damage he would find lay inside the house as well. Steeling himself, he walked to the door and rang the bell.
A smiling Petunia answered. She took one look at the oddly dressed man on her doorstep and asked politely, "Yes? May I help you?" Her eyes flicked up and down the street, ever mindful of her neighbors.
Dumbledore inclined his head slightly. "My apologies for the intrusion, Mrs. Dursley. I'm here to inquire about your nephew, Harry Potter."
Petunia's expression shifted from mild curiosity to shock, then quickly twisted into anger.
"My nephew is dead, sir, along with my sister and her lovely husband. A tragedy I still grieve over. I do not appreciate you coming by to reopen old wounds!"
Dumbledore studied her, meeting her angry gaze with such intensity that she instinctively took a step back. Something was very wrong.
He sighed heavily. "I see. I must have been misinformed. I'm sorry to have disturbed you, ma'am."
With a curt nod, he turned to leave. Behind him, Petunia Dursley slammed the door shut with unnecessary force.
"Too late, then."
Dumbledore frowned. Petunia had been Obliviated. And not just by anyone—this had the marks of Alastor Moody's work.
The Ministry was meddling.
His unease deepened as he walked down the street toward Arabella Figg's home. Perhaps she knew what had happened. But deep down, Dumbledore was already certain—Sirius Black was behind it all.
Twenty minutes later, he was back at Hogwarts, looking pale and shaken.
Harry had disappeared shortly after his visit to Diagon Alley with Hagrid.
When Arabella Figg had inquired whether Harry was available to do some lawn work for her, Petunia had briskly informed her that the boy had been sent to a summer camp for juvenile delinquents. After that, he would be attending St. Brutus's, a boarding school for troubled teens.
Dudley had gone to summer camp as well, though his trip had been earlier in the year. Arabella's report suggested that, on the surface at least, the Dursleys had been making more of an effort to include Harry in family activities. They had even taken him to the zoo.
It was the time of year when Muggles seemed content to hand their precious children over to strangers who would whisk them away into the woods to learn how to start fires and eat something called s'mores.
Dumbledore didn't know enough about Muggle customs to determine whether this was true. For a brief moment, he found himself distracted by the idea of a summer program before shaking himself free of the idle thought.
Harry Potter was missing. The wards on Privet Drive were irrevocably broken. And Sirius Black was most certainly behind it.
He could see the problem—but not the solution.
His gaze drifted to a cluttered shelf lined with whirring and whizzing instruments, their delicate mechanisms spinning and clicking in ceaseless motion. One thing was certain—Harry Potter was alive.
Pulling a fresh sheet of parchment toward him, he dipped his quill in ink and began another letter to Sirius Black.
Sensing his master's disquiet, Fawkes trilled a soft, soothing note and fluttered to the arm of Dumbledore's chair.
"Yes, my friend," Dumbledore murmured, reaching up to stroke the phoenix's gleaming feathers. "You are right. I am a meddling old fool. But please—deliver this to Lord Black."
Professor McGonagall was the first to arrive for the reading of the will and was escorted into a large Gringotts conference room. A pair of goblin guards verified her identity before allowing her entry. She was dressed smartly in a tartan overcoat with a matching hat, her expression composed but tinged with curiosity.
Inside, Madam Bones of the DMLE and one of her assistants were huddled together, reviewing a stack of documents. Across the room, a goblin—likely an accountant—watched the proceedings with an intimidating sneer.
Amelia Bones glanced up from the parchment and offered a small smile. "Ah, good morning, Minerva," she greeted warmly. "I appreciate you pulling yourself away from Hogwarts on such short notice. I know it's a busy time of year."
Minerva nodded as the two women shook hands. "It is. But I must confess, Amelia, I'm quite curious. The letter didn't mention whose will we would be reading."
Amelia sighed, offering an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid you'll have to be patient a little longer. I apologize for the secrecy, but I promise all will be made clear soon."
With another nod, Minerva took a seat in one of the neatly arranged chairs.
She didn't have to wait long before the rest of the beneficiaries began filing in.
Severus Snape entered first. Upon spotting her, he took the seat beside her and inclined his head respectfully. "Minerva," he greeted in his usual measured tone. Then, with a glance around the room, he asked, "Any idea whose will we are here for?"
Minerva shook her head, murmuring, "Unfortunately, no."
Snape was soon followed by Hagrid and Filch, who entered together, an unusual pairing that caused Minerva and Snape to exchange equally puzzled glances. The towering half-giant and the hunched, sour-faced caretaker made for a striking contrast as they found their seats.
Not long after, Augusta Longbottom arrived, her ever-present vulture-topped hat sitting primly on her head. She carried herself with the same unshakable authority that had long defined her, though her gaze softened as she guided her grandson, Neville, to a seat across the aisle. The boy looked nervous but determined, his fingers clenching the hem of his robe as he took in the unfamiliar company.
The mystery deepened when the Tonks family arrived, led by Andromeda with her husband, Ted, and their daughter, Nymphadora, whose hair had settled on a somber shade of deep blue. They were followed closely by a worn but steady-looking Remus Lupin.
"Quite the eclectic gathering," Snape muttered, his tone dripping with suspicion. His dark eyes flickered toward Lupin with barely concealed disdain.
For his part, Remus simply smiled at the professors and quietly took a seat in the back corner, far from Snape's reach. The Potions Master, now sitting ramrod straight, fingers ghosting over his wand, was clearly unsettled.
Then the door opened one final time, and all murmurs ceased.
A young Harry Potter stepped inside, flanked by the recently exonerated Sirius Black. The boy's green eyes swept the room with careful curiosity, though his posture remained poised and confident. After greeting Amelia Bones with a polite nod, Harry and Sirius strode to the front, taking the reserved seats directly before the gathered assembly.
Both were dressed impeccably, though their styles contrasted sharply. Harry's robes were deep forest green, the rich fabric falling neatly over his frame. Beneath them, a crisp white collar and a simple black tie peeked through, lending him an air of composed dignity. The Potter crest, embroidered in gold and red silk, stood proudly on his chest. Yet, even without it, no one would mistake his lineage—the messy black hair, the unmistakable Potter features. But his eyes… those belonged to Lily.
Sirius, in contrast, cut a striking yet haunted figure. His black dueling robes, though expertly tailored, hung a little too loosely on his frame, as though they had been fitted for a healthier man. His cheekbones were sharp, his skin still bearing the pallor of Azkaban's deprivation. The shadows beneath his eyes hinted at restless nights, and though his hands no longer trembled as badly as they had upon his release, a slight unsteadiness remained. His recovery had only just begun, and the weight of his imprisonment still clung to him like a specter.
Guiding Harry to his designated seat—one reserved for the Heir and his guardian—Sirius let his gaze sweep the room. When his eyes locked onto Snape's, the tension became palpable. A silent battle flared between them, the kind only years of unresolved hatred could fuel.
McGonagall caught the exchange and let out a sharp hiss. "Behave yourself, Severus. You're not a child anymore."
Snape shot her an outraged look but, after a long moment, leaned back in his chair, arms crossed tightly, his scowl fixed on the back of Sirius Black's head.
There were soft murmurs throughout the room, but they hushed quickly when Amelia Bones looked up, as if taking a headcount. She gathered a small stack of papers, walked to the front of the room, and stood within a runic circle etched into the floor. As these were Goblin runes, none but the Goblin observer knew their full purpose. However, they flared to life as Amelia began to speak, and her voice rang out clearly for all to hear.
"Thank you all for coming. I apologize for the clandestine nature of these proceedings, but before we begin, I will need a magical oath that what you learn today will not be discussed with anyone outside of this room until the details are released to the public." Amelia let a hard gaze pass over each person. Seeing no one shift uncomfortably over the restrictions, she continued, "You are free to discuss the details amongst yourselves, and some of you may be excused early from the reading. If you have a wand, please raise it; if not, raise your left hand."
There was a flurry of movement as everyone took the oath, even Harry and Neville, who stood ramrod straight, their expressions serious as they made their magical vows. For each, it was the first bit of magic they had performed with their wands—though technically, it wasn't a spell.
Amelia took a moment, letting her gaze travel over this odd collection of witches and wizards. She nodded to her assistant, a quiet and unassuming witch dressed in simple blue Ministry robes, who walked to a back room. She soon returned with what appeared to be a veiled painting.
"We are here to read the wills of James Charlus Potter and Lily Jean Potter, née Evans." Amelia paused, allowing the gasps and mutters to settle.
"We will begin with the last will and testament of James Charlus Potter." Amelia took a breath, her expression pained for a moment. "James Potter and his friends from school left behind their portrait in Lord Potter's trust vault. According to his last wishes, I am to let him address you and make his final wishes known in his own voice." She cleared her throat, noting the blank-faced witches and wizards in the room. With a stern nod, she stepped aside as her assistant unveiled the painting, revealing a portrait of three young men captured on the canvas. A golden plaque at the bottom of the frame read, 'The Marauders.'
Harry could scarcely believe his eyes when he saw that Peter was missing from the frame. Sirius leaned over and whispered, "Remus was able to get the artist to come and erase Peter today while we were talking with the Dursleys."
There were gasps and sniffles now as everyone became transfixed by the image of James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin. James stepped forward while the other two settled into the background.
"Good morning," James said, smiling and scanning the room, pausing on each face for a moment before grinning. "You all look so old!" There was a brief moment of shock, followed by several chuckles.
"So, I guess I'm dead, and I get my last words while you get my stuff," he continued with a grin. "From what I understand, I've been dead for quite a while. Well, better late than never, I suppose." He cleared his throat and nervously pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Now… let's see." James glanced at Madam Bones. "If it's all right with you, I'm going to dispense with all the legalese and just do this my way."
Madam Bones nodded in bemusement. "That is fine."
James nodded. "Okay, so first on the list... To Minerva McGonagall, I leave my broom collection, as well as ten thousand galleons, to be used however she sees fit." He paused and flashed a grin toward his former professor. "I just want to say, Aunt Minnie, you were my favorite teacher and a wonderful head of house. You were always fair. I'm also aware that my son is going to be at Hogwarts this year, and I want to thank you in advance for looking out for him. Not that you should consider this a bribe in any way for preferential treatment," he added, his grin widening.
James smiled toward the stern witch, who was dabbing at her eyes with a conjured handkerchief. Minerva shook her head. "I don't really deserve it," she sniffed.
"Nonsense. You deserve the world." James sighed dramatically. "But all I could think to leave you are 25 brooms from my collection—though they're over ten years old and probably considered antiques by today's standards." He gave a regretful shake of his head. "They're all top-notch brooms, though, and well taken care of." His expression softened as he continued, "Also, if you're ever in need of a team mascot or assistant coach, don't hesitate to ask!" James shamelessly plugged.
Moony cleared his throat, reminding James to stay on task. However, his comment did seem to provoke a contemplative, almost Slytherin-like expression on Minerva's face.
Snape glanced over at her, his sneer curling. "What?" Minerva asked innocently.
Snape huffed and crossed his arms, wishing he were anywhere but trapped in this room. Acid roiled in his gut. The crucio at the Dark Lord's hand would be preferable to the humiliation he knew was coming.
"Right. Who's next?" James's eyes immediately went to Snape, and his smile faltered. "To Severus Snape, I leave an apology."
Snape's face turned murderous, and Prongs smirked. "Yeah, I'd prefer hexing you too, but I made a promise to be…" He glanced at Harry, and his expression softened, "good."
Snape growled, "For the love of Merlin, just get on with it."
James nodded. "Fine. I'm sorry I bullied you in school. I was immature, mean, jealous, and a complete ass. You were Lily's best friend. I did everything I could to turn her against you and humiliate you. So, for what it's worth, I'm sorry."
The apology sounded genuine, but Snape knew his childhood nemesis had plotted to humiliate him one last time. An elaborate prank from beyond the bloody grave! He crossed his arms defensively, sneering at all the curious glances directed his way. He missed Harry's understanding and empathetic look.
Harry hated being the center of attention and knew that, in Snape's place, he'd be embarrassed.
Then James rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Now for the good shit."
Snape's brow lowered in warning, contemplating setting the blasted portrait ablaze. The spell for fiendfyre rose to his mind almost unbidden. He'd never use it—he was much too disciplined for such a reckless spell. But oh, it would be so satisfying. He turned his attention back to Potter's words.
"I'm leaving you my memories of every single detention I ever got and every time Lily yelled at me for pranking you. The memory of Lily punching me and breaking my nose, the memory of Lily stealing my broom—she never did tell me what she did with it."
Moony cleared his throat, a bit more forcefully this time.
"Right," James continued, pushing his glasses up. "And I'm leaving you several secret family potion recipes and some rare potion books from the Potter library. I'm pretty sure nothing I do will make up for the terrible way I treated you in school, but perhaps you can not blame my son for my horrible mistreatment of you."
Snape wished for a hole to open up and swallow him whole. God, he hated that man. He wished he could bring him back to life just to hex him dead again. Minerva watched him with concern, her brow furrowing.
"Am I forgiven? If you hold a grudge, I won't be able to move on. I'll have to wander Hogwarts as a lost and lonely spirit. Who knows, maybe my spirit can take over for Binns in History. I couldn't possibly do a worse job."
"Forgiven, Potter," Snape hissed angrily, desperate to have the spotlight removed from him.
James nodded. "Excellent." He finally turned his attention from the fuming Slytherin to the Tonks family, offering them a warm smile.
"So, hello, Andy." He gave the older woman a deferential nod. "I'm really glad to see you looking so well. And you too, Ted. You two don't know this, but I always admired that you gave up everything for love. I was inspired by both of you." His eyes drifted to Nymphadora, who was sitting between her parents, her hair cycling between bubblegum pink and blue.
"I don't know if you remember this, but Sirius brought Moony and me over to meet you when you were born, and I was your favorite." He grinned. "We babysat you, and you're the reason Lily first saw me as boyfriend material, I guess. Sirius had invited her along, and she saw how good I was with you. Next thing you know..."
Moony interrupted. "James..."
"Right," James said, a little sheepishly. "To Andromeda Tonks, nee Black, I bequeath 100,000 galleons. The amount of money you should have received in your dowry. I know it's unheard of, but my mother was a Black, and she was very upset at your expulsion from the family. So, I'm just following my mother's wishes."
Andromeda looked shell-shocked, her hand rising to surreptitiously wipe away a tear. Ted handed her a handkerchief, and she smiled at him gratefully.
James grinned at her and then said, "Nymphadora…"
"Tonks. Call me Tonks, please." Her hair turned bright red again.
Prongs smirked. "Tonks, then." His smirk was contagious, and he continued without missing a beat. "I leave 25,000 galleons. I hope you use it to further your education in whatever mastery you choose. Also, I leave you a rare book called Metamorph Magic. I think you'll find it useful."
Tonks beamed and said, "Thanks, Cousin James," with a cheeky grin that earned an eye-roll from her more reserved mother.
James gave her a playful wink, then looked over toward where Filch and Hagrid sat together. "Hagrid! It's very good to see you, big guy. Harry tells me you took him to the Alley and introduced him to the magical world."
Minerva McGonagall straightened at that piece of news, her eyes moving toward Harry and then wincing. Dumbledore had told her that he was seeing to Harry's Hogwarts introduction personally, so she needn't worry about it. The old coot had sent Hagrid!? She was going to kill him.
Hagrid nodded and smiled. "It was a great honor."
James smiled back. "Well, in honor of the friendship you showed us Marauders while we were at school—and the friendship I hope you'll continue to show the students of Hogwarts—I'm bequeathing you a letter of introduction to Newt Scamander. He owes my family a life debt," James explained. "I know you don't value money or the like, but I can't help but think you should at least be valued. So, I'm donating 20,000 galleons to the Hogwarts Groundkeeping Fund."
Hagrid blinked in surprise. "That's mighty generous, James, but—"
James raised a hand. "Let me finish, Hagrid. And here's the part I'm sure you'll like: I think it would be a great idea if you considered inviting Newt Scamander to Hogwarts as a guest professor. He's always admired your work, and I'm sure he'd be more than willing to help assess the grounds and its creatures. But, of course, that's more your call than mine, Minerva." James gave her a knowing look.
Hagrid's eyes lit up. "Newt Scamander? The Newt Scamander?"
James chuckled. "The very same. He's one of your biggest fans, you know."
Hagrid beamed and pulled an oversized hanky out of his pocket, blowing his nose with a sound like a foghorn echoing off the walls. "I don't know what to say…" He nodded toward the portrait once he had regained his composure. "Thank you."
James grinned. "Well, I also thought that my son might enjoy meeting him, so I'm hoping you'll give him a warm welcome, Hagrid."
Everyone in the room had some inkling about the wizard. Even Harry had been reading Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Neville and Harry shared an excited look between them, their eyes wide with curiosity.
James cleared his throat, then his gaze moved to Filch, and he seemed to pause for a moment. "To Mr. Filch," James began, his tone turning slightly embarrassed. "I wanted to give also a formal apology. Many of the Marauder's pranks were aimed at you and Mrs. Norris, and you posed a worthy challenge." He gave a short bow toward the caretaker, as did the other two Marauders, who had taken the proverbial backseat during the entire exchange.
"We are truly sorry for causing so many problems for you during our time at Hogwarts. Mrs. Norris too. And we therefore have decided to give you a gift that should make up for it." James looked almost sheepish. "We were the ones who got you banned from the Hogwarts kitchens and have written out a full confession to the house-elves about what happened during our first Halloween feast. It should be enough to lift the ban. Also, we have a list of secret passages that we discovered during our time, and we've decided to turn them over to you. It's not a good idea to have secret ways into and out of the castle, especially when I think of Harry's safety."
James glanced over to Minerva, who was staring at James's portrait with an expression that could not look any more scandalized. Sirius and Remus were staring in shock as well—neither had ever considered the security risk those passages presented.
Harry and Neville exchanged a quick look. Neither seemed particularly chuffed that they wouldn't be able to sneak out of the castle, though they were both rule-abiding students. They couldn't imagine a scenario where they would need to sneak in or out of the castle and were actually somewhat relieved that it would be harder for someone else to do so.
Filch, for his part, was rubbing his hands together with glee at the boons the Potter boy had left him. He smiled widely, and every single person in the room wished that he hadn't. It was an unnatural expression on the dour man's face, and the state of his teeth was enough to make anyone take a step back.
James then turned his attention to the Longbottoms. He bowed elegantly to Augusta and then gave another respectful bow to Neville. "As you and I both know, Neville's mother, Alice, was named Harry's godmother, and Lily and I were named Neville's. If we had lived and Alice and Frank had not been attacked, our sons would have been raised like brothers."
His gaze moved to Sirius, who was staring at his friend's portrait with a mixture of unfathomable pain and amusement. The portrait of his best friend, James, was seemingly enjoying every drama-filled moment of the gathering. James sighed, his face softening with regret.
"I was sorry to hear about what happened to Alice and Frank, Augusta," James said, his voice sincere. "I was to leave Alice and Frank 100,000 galleons. In addition, I am instructing the Goblins and Lady Bones to divert the cost of their care from the Potter vault. I wish there was more that I could do, Augusta, but if you wouldn't mind visiting with my portrait later, I'd like to discuss what more can be done."
Lady Longbottom was clearly shell-shocked, and for once, she was at a loss for cutting words. She nodded slowly, her usual sharpness dulled by the weight of the gesture, and her grip on her grandson's hand tightened, causing the boy to wince slightly.
James then turned his attention to Neville and smiled warmly. "I don't have to tell you, Neville, how sorry I am that I wasn't in your life. Nothing I can give you can make up for the lack of parents or godparents. However, I can try." He winked at the young man. "To Neville Longbottom, I leave 100,000 galleons to help pay for your education and mastery of your choice when you graduate Hogwarts. I also noticed you're using your dad's wand. You will need your own wand if you want to reach your magical potential."
He cast a somewhat reprimanding glance towards Augusta, who had drawn herself up defensively, but James only needed to give her a knowing look. She deflated instantly, and whatever remark she had been about to make died on her lips.
There was a rustle of robes as Severus Snape shifted impatiently in his chair. He was dying to leave and drink himself into a stupor. James was deliberately dragging the proceedings out. Attention-seeking, egomaniac, Snape thought uncharitably. He sneered and crossed his arms in exasperation.
"Can we move things along?" he asked, his voice dripping with impatience. Madam Bones, who had been watching the entire spectacle with bemusement, cleared her throat, sensing the growing tension. This was undoubtedly the strangest will reading she had ever attended, and the emotionally charged atmosphere was almost palpable.
She gave a polite cough and glanced at James's portrait. "Perhaps we should proceed, Mr. Potter?"
James sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine. Moving along."
Neville, still in a state of shock, was trying to absorb everything that had just been said. The windfall had come at the most fortuitous time, judging by his gran's reaction. He could feel her relief sweeping through him like honey. Later, they would talk about what this meant for them, but a fissure of concern tugged at him. Had things been that bad?
He gave Harry a cautious glance, and his friend was staring almost unblinkingly at the portrait, his gaze fixed on the proceedings. Harry was deep in thought, wondering just how much money the Potters had. He wasn't great at math, but the numbers sure were stacking up.
James then turned his attention to his best mates. His gaze swept the room, landing on Remus. "Hey, Moony. So I finally get to give something to you, and you have to take it." He rubbed his hands together gleefully. "For your undying friendship, loyalty, and just plain being one of the best blokes in the whole world. I'm leaving you 100,000 galleons. I'm also leaving you my half of the London flat. Sirius still owns the other half, I assume?"
Sirius shrugged, his expression distant. He hadn't been back to the flat since his arrest. "Yeah, I still own it," he muttered, though his attention seemed divided.
James didn't miss the moment and continued, clearly delighted by what he was giving away. "I'm also leaving you the Potter library. Or at least, access to it." He saw Remus practically start drooling at the thought. "You need to help teach Harry his family history," James explained, his voice teasing.
Remus' eyes widened in excitement. The Potter library? It was legendary, a treasure trove of magical texts, history, and research that few could even imagine being able to access.
"And—" James raised a finger, "—I've also included a sizable reward for any witch or wizard who finds a cure for your condition." James looked at him pointedly. "A one million galleon reward."
A collective gasp rippled through the room, and even Snape blinked in disbelief.
"Lily was working on a solution before she died," James continued. "I'll be leaving you with her research. She seemed pretty excited about a possible solution, so… I hope it helps, because if anyone deserves a good life, it's you, Moony."
Remus wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand and nodded, unable to fully express what he was feeling. "Thanks, Prongs," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
Snape sat frozen, blinking as he tried to process what he had just heard. Lily was trying to cure Lupin's lycanthropy? The thought hit him like a ton of bricks. Why hadn't she come to him? He could have helped. He could have…
Reality crashed down on him hard, and he scowled, the memories of his betrayal still fresh. Right. He had betrayed her. Shaking his head, he forced himself to focus. He had never considered the idea of finding a cure before, at least not from that angle. The thought of a million galleons was tempting to his Slytherin nature, and it would be easy to take advantage of the situation. But seeing Lily's notes? Working from where she left off? His mind whirled with possibilities.
Meanwhile, Remus was still in shock. He knew James was wealthy; after all, he had been to the Potter Estate several times—now protected by the Fidelius Charm. That estate rivaled Longbottom Manor and even gave Malfoy Manor a run for its money in terms of sheer grandeur. The Potters were successful in their business ventures and were responsible for several magical innovations.
As much as Remus had been prepared for a generous gift, this still blew his mind. It felt like a punch to the gut—but in a good way. The possibility of a cure for lycanthropy, one that Lily had been working on, seemed almost too good to be true. But Remus couldn't help the hope that rose in him. Hope was contagious, even more so than the disease he was cursed with. The idea of a real cure—and the potential reward for finding it—made his heart race.
Finally, Prongs turned his attention to his best friend in life. "Hey, Padfoot. I really can't tell you how sorry I am that you were blamed for Lily and me. It was more my fault than anyone's. But if any of you want to blame someone for what happened to me, to Lily… Blame that murdering bastard Voldemort!" James spat, his voice thick with anger. "Blame me if you must. Sounds like I chose at least one of my friends poorly. But Sirius Orion Black was the best friend anyone could hope for. We are brothers. And he did everything he could to keep me and my family alive. Everything. And the wizarding community owes him a pretty big debt, which I'm going to help repay right now."
He looked at Sirius, his expression full of warmth and gratitude. "I leave to Sirius Orion Black the care of my precious son Harry James Potter, with my blessing to adopt him as his own. I'd just ask that he keep my name in some version. Harry James Potter Black has a very nice ring to it, I think."
Sirius smiled down at Harry, and the boy smiled back at him, a quiet understanding passing between them. Harry's eyes were wide with emotion, but his expression was one of trust and warmth. Sirius nodded, pulling Harry closer to his side in a tender hug.
"I'm also leaving you Godric's Hollow," James continued. "I know you loved that place and now likely hate it. This way, you can either have it bulldozed, sell it, or do whatever you want with it. You should be the one to decide though." His tone softened. "I am also leaving you 1 million galleons. Just do something good with it. Something fun."
Sirius nodded in acknowledgment, a slight smile on his face, still holding Harry close. "Thanks, James," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
"And finally," James turned his attention to Harry, giving the boy his undivided attention. "To my son. Harry James Potter, I leave the remainder of all my assets. All that I ever was and ever hoped to be, I leave to you, son. It's a lot, and thankfully I've given you people who can help you manage it all, but I have faith in you. And for now, you just have to focus on being a kid. Going to Hogwarts, making friends that will last a lifetime, meeting a girl that will take your breath away. Having fun!"
James' voice cracked slightly, but he pushed on. "I wish I could leave you more than knuts and galleons and land and houses. I wanted to leave you with a safe world. I wanted you to live free from dark wizards and war. But where there is good in the world, there is also bad. I'm just grateful that there is more good than bad because you are in it. So for whatever it's worth, son, I leave you all my worldly possessions. And even though this isn't the real me, I know for a fact that wherever the real me is, he's proud to call you his son."
James paused after that emotional moment, and except for Snape, Filch, and Madam Bones, there wasn't a dry eye in the room. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, the legacy of a father's love and sacrifice evident in the room's silence.
James cleared his throat, a cheeky grin playing on his lips. "So that's me done."
Snape visibly sneered, though it was clear that even he was affected by the weight of the moment. But then his expression shifted, paling slightly as James spoke again, "Now, on to my beloved wife, Lily."
Madam Bones quickly stepped in, sensing the growing tension. "Thank you, Lord Potter, I think I can take it from here. And on behalf of the Wizengamot, may I offer my belated condolences on your demise. It has been an honor to bear witness."
James smiled cheekily as Madam Bones swiftly draped the portrait, preparing to remove it from the room. Harry watched it go anxiously
Madam Bones took center stage and said, "Lily Potter née Evans left most of her estate to her son. She left letters for each of her named beneficiaries. There were no monetary bequests, only personal mementos, letters, pictures, books, journals, and memories. Those items were left in her vault, and you may collect what she left you by presenting your letter at your convenience to the Goblins."
With that, the blond witch began passing out the letters from Lily. Harry, Remus, Sirius, Severus, Neville, Augusta Longbottom, Professor McGonagall, Petunia Dursley, Dudley Dursley, Filius Flitwick, and Horace Slughorn were all named beneficiaries in her will. Those present received their letter, while the rest would be sent to by owl post.
Once Lily's letters were distributed, the group broke up rather quickly. Sirius, Remus, and Harry quickly took their letters and gathered the portrait, making their way out of the conference room as quickly as possible.
The news of the will would leak as soon as Lily's letters flew the coop. They had hours before the shite hit the literal fan. No one knew what was going to happen next. Harry received a massive packet from the goblin along with Lily's letter.
Sirius had pulled Madam Bones aside and asked about the letters to Petunia and Dudley, and she shook her head. "Whatever she would have left them will have to be cleared through my department. Don't worry. I have to say that as far as will readings go, this one stands out." She grinned at Harry. "Your dad sure had a flair for the dramatic."
Harry nodded. He had a lot of questions, though. But he was hungry and tired and just wanted to curl up with Sirius and Remus and talk about everything together. "Can we go home?" he asked. Neville was waving at him goodbye as Lady Longbottom seemed to be leaving as well. It couldn't have been easy for her. She looked pale and seemed to lean on her cane and her grandson a bit more heavily than he liked.
After thanking Madam Bones, they made their way to the floo and finally home.
AN Edited 3/9/25