Tribe of mystics: Reworked

by Lord of mystics

This is a rewritten version of the earlier story of the same name. Some incidents in the story have been rewritten in detail so that any unanswered questions can be addressed.

7. Chapter 7

The reworking has been going good and I personally feel the story is very better now. However, I haven't seen much appreciation in the form of reviews from readers.

This story will be updated once a week so that people can finish a chapter before next is uploaded.

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Gringotts Bank

Harsh and Harry apparated to a space between two buildings near Ollivander's in Diagon Alley. They merged with the foot-traffic as they walked onto the main street. As they came around a bend, the gleaming white marble and burnished brass gates of Gringotts, the wizarding bank, came into view. This is the establishment, run by Goblins, where Wizarding Britain keeps their wealth. Until recently, Harry thought that all the wealth he had in the world was in the trust vault his parents left for him. He had been carefully spending that gold to pay for his expenses while he was at Hogwarts. It was now he realised that Ron was right and he had never noticed that the pile never got any smaller. Neither had he ever given a thought about how his tuition and other school fees were paid. If Ron was right about that too, there were other vaults under that bank which contain the Potter fortune.

As the pair approached the bank, the eyes of the Goblin guards grew wide and the sound of massive bronze bells pealed out. In the next moments, every gate and door of the bank burst open disgorging columns of armoured Goblins. They wore a wild assortment of styles of armour ranging from black chainmail to gleaming Goblin wrought silver plate. Some bore shields and one-handed axes, hammers and morning-star maces. Others needed both hands to wield war-axes or spears taller than themselves. Over their armour, all of them wore the tabards of the Guards of Gringotts. Now that Harry saw them, all the droning lectures from Professor Binns about the Goblin rebellions and Hagrid's warnings not to mess with them made sense. Not a single one of them was over four feet, two inches tall, but they all looked angry and dangerous.

Harry took in the scene, trying to figure out what the Goblins were so upset about and he realized they were all looking in his direction. Harry looked behind them to see if anything was there and then he saw the expression on Harsh's face. The Mystic was trying to look solemn, but his eyes were dancing with mirth as if he found the show the goblins were putting on was the height of hilarity.

"Mr. Harsh, can you tell me what is happening?", Harry hesitantly asked him.

"It is nothing, Mr. Potter. Just some ancient and unfinished business between me and the goblins which should have been resolved ages ago. If you would take my advice, then put on your heir ring. If things go as bad as I think it will then you will be spared any harm or retribution from them considering that you are one of their richest clients."

Harsh's answer just raised more questions in Harry's mind. But with the Goblins ready for battle, he thought better of asking those questions right now and quietly did as he was told. He carefully fished the Potter heir ring from the pocket of his robe and slipped it onto his ring finger. The ring fit loosely at first, but shortly shrunk to a perfect fit.

As Harry and Harsh stood watching side-by-side, the last armoured Goblin jogged into place in the battle line and the mighty gates of Gringotts slammed shut with a deep boom. An entire battalion of them stood motionless with their weapons drawn, the hot summer sun glinting off their armour. If looks could kill, Harsh would have already been a small pile of smoking ash.

Their leader, one of the tallest, dressed in black plate with gold inlay, his helmet visor down, wielding a massive two-handed silver sword, stepped up to challenge Harsh. As he approached, Harry could see that the Goblin commander was shaking, but trying not to show it. He pointed his sword at Harsh and growled, "You, wizard, are barred from this place. Leave or die."

As the drama played out, Harry wondered what the Mystic had done to earn death threats. Even though he was sure that the commander meant every word he said, it was also clear that even with a whole battalion to back him up, the Goblin wasn't sure he could carry out that threat.

Harsh smiled broadly at the Goblin, "Brave and noble Goblin, would you acquaint with me the reason that I am being denied access to the Bank and on whose authority?"

The commander recited, "By decree of Lord Ragnok, our king, you are barred from access to Gringotts at all locations. Should you attempt entry by force or any other means, it will be considered an act of war and you will be dealt with accordingly."

"You have not told me the reason that I am being denied access to the bank", said Harsh, "And I am a very reasonable man. I won't resort to needless violence until we are civil to each other. Now, if you are not considered important enough to be told about why I am being denied access to the Bank then please go and fetch this Rug nut so I can ask him myself but please be quick about it for my time is very valuable."

The shaking of the great-sword was much more noticeable now, not with fear but rather rage. Not only did it sting that his king had not bothered to inform him for the reason that Harsh Vardon was barred from the bank, he was also threatened that his head would roll if the Mystic got past him and disrespect to his king was a mortal insult, "You, wizard, do not understand your own peril when you insult my king. We are trained to take no insult from any creatures, especially from wizards and to punish the offender on the spot."

To underline that he really meant business, the goblin raised his mail clad fists readying the massive blade to strike, "Say another word and you will know what happens to those who insult our king."

Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say because Harsh growled at him, "O Goblin, hear me and my pronouncement. You are not a threat to me by yourself nor your brethren can put a scratch on my body. If you consider to commit the folly to attack me, please ask your king why your entire nation panicked at mere sight of me."

"It is not my duty to ask questions, wizard. I follow the orders of my king and even if I were to die here fighting you and discharging my duty, I would consider that my life is meaningful."

"If you are done posturing and satisfying your ego, go and fetch your king for my companion here desires an audience with him. And if you still insist on trying to intimidate me, you can be sure that you head will roll when this Rug nut learns that you have turned away the heir of Potter from the gates of the bank."

The Goblin looked suspiciously at Harry as if trying to verify Harsh's claim. Harsh prodded Harry to show his heir ring. Harry promptly stepped forward and held out his fist with the ring prominently displayed, "Your king, Ragnok has requested an audience with me. Would you be so kind as to summon him to settle this?"

When the goblin saw the ring, his eyes went wide and his face went pale for a moment.

"Now, are we allowed entrance in the bank?", Harsh asked

The commander addressed Harry, "You, Harry Potter, are allowed access to the bank as a valuable customer. However, this companion of yours,", he nodded toward Harsh, "has been banned from entering into any of the branches of Gringotts. You can enter the bank at your will but he cannot."

"I am not entering the bank without my companion", Harry said, "If you stop him then I am not going to enter either. I'm not sure what will happen when your king hears about that."

The Goblin was in a quandary. He could not allow Harsh in the Bank and Harry refused to enter without him. He knew what he had to do. Barking an order at one of the other soldiers in Gobbledegook, he went inside through one of the smaller doors while the duo waited outside patiently.

They didn't have to wait for long. The goblin returned a few minutes later accompanied by another regal looking goblin clad in gleaming goblin wrought silver plate armour, a bejewelled sword hilt protruding from the scabbard at his side and a shield with the device of the Goblin nation depicted in gems on its surface strapped to his arm.

As the goblin approached, Harsh stepped up to the new goblin addressing him, "Rug Nut, how good to see you again."

The new goblin, who looked like someone with authority, glared at Harsh and barked, "What business do you have here, wizard? What could we possibly be holding here to tempt you here? Or do you come here to shed more blood of my men as you did when you were banned from entering the bank? Think not that I have no indication of your identity or your abilities for I remember you for the butcher that you are from your last visit to the bank even though I was a wee lad at that time."

Harsh smiled genially at him, "Are you again trying to heap all the blame at my feet? After all these years? Do I need to remind you whose fault it was that led to the unfortunate incident? It was not my fault but it was you, goblins, who chose to oppose me when I made demands which were justified and to the benefit of the world at large. What could I do?"

Harry was getting really intrigued now. The mystic was turning into a mystery for him. Every time he heard a story about the mystic, another hundred questions about him popped into his head. When they had the time, he would have the mystic answer every single question of his.

"It matters not who started it. As a consequence of your participation in the Second Goblin rebellion, you were already forbidden from entering the bank in perpetuity. You had turned the tide of the war in favour of wizard-kind", he scowled, "And when you visited the last time, you refused to leave when we told you that you were not allowed in our premises. When we opposed you, you attacked us."

"You mean, I attacked you after you had tried to arrest me with your army? Well whatever happened then is ancient history Rug Nut", he chided him, "Today I am accompanying Mr. Potter here, whose family was one of the original members of the bank. Now do you want to stand and squabble here instead of serving the interests of your client? I don't need to remind you that his family's wealth and investments are so huge and so branched that if were to pull those investments and close those accounts then you won't have two knuts to rub together, Rug Nut."

Ragnok turned to look at Harry and startled as if the young wizard had just appeared out of nowhere. Knowing how massive the Potter fortune was, the Goblin began hopefully, "Surely Heir Potter would not be so reckless or wish to do such a thing and wreck the economy of Wizarding Britain, or even worse, ruining the bank?"

Harry who had at last caught on to some of the conversation, chimed in, "I will take all my money and artefacts out of your bank and...", Harry did not know where he would go with that kind of money and so many artefacts.

But Harsh provided that answer, "and he will go to the Gnomes in Switzerland who would be delighted to have such a prospective client. You would be well aware of how much they are always eager for more business and they are the chief competitors of the Goblin Nation as far as banking matters are concerned. Any customer who leaves disgruntled with the Goblins will be served with utmost happiness by them. The Potter account alone will make sure that they treat him like a king and if you count in other houses he is an heir/ prospective heir of, they will perhaps open another branch for him solely."

Ragnok shuddered visibly at the thought of any one of his clients moving out of his bank. If a customer as rich as the House of Potter went away to the Gnomes, it could crash the economy of the country and severely damage the reputation of Gringotts. There was also the fact that House Potter was the leader of the Great Alliance and if he were to move away then its allies i.e. the Bones, MacMillans and Longbottoms would likely follow the Potter holdings to the Gnomes in solidarity. And it didn't end there. Sirius Black, Harry Potter's god father, was also the heir of Black, a family that had numberless vassals and alliances. If they also left the bank, that would be the end of Gringotts and Ragnok could not hope to keep his head if he allowed that to happen.

Such a catastrophe would anger the council of elders against him. As a king, he ruled over the Goblin nation but only as long as they said so. They were a council of seven old goblins who were known for their cunning, ruthlessness, skills, business acumen or achievements in battle.

If he had to go before the council with his head bowed to explain why the members of the Great Alliance had pulled their accounts out of Gringotts, the best he could hope for was a career cleaning the dragon pens in the bowels of the deepest levels of the bank. This would further strain the wizard-goblin relations which were never very good at the best of times. The situation put him between a rock and a hard place- whether to allow Harsh Vardhana in the Bank and risk the wrath of the elders or anger Heir Potter and definitely face the elders?

As a Goblin, what motivated him was bloody war or gold. In this situation, if the members of the Alliance chose to leave the bank then he would lose all the gold that belonged to those Houses. If they chose war and decided to attack Harsh Vardhan, they would get a war alright. It would perhaps be the bloodiest war in the history of their nation but not one that he could hope to win.

Unlike the wizards, the goblins knew of the real identity of Harsh and his order. They knew that the mystic never went anywhere alone. If he were to just say a word, the bank will be surrounded by hundreds of wizards in no time and the battle which would happen thereafter will only end after every goblin was killed. The mystic was not a simple wizard but he was a Lord like Dumbledore or Voldemort. The only difference between him and the other two was that everyone knew about them and their prowess but no one knew about Harsh or how powerful he really was. No one could think that this plain unassuming wizard was the master of a tribe of wizards which kept a standing army.

Being done with his deliberations and going over the pros and cons of every situation, his mind was made up. He couldn't risk annihilation of his entire tribe so he chose to put his own life on the line.

Turning to Harry, he addressed him in an official manner, "Are you Harold James of House Potter?"

Harry was surprised by the change in his demeanour and the formal name by which the Goblin addressed him but when Harsh stepped on his foot, he straightened and looking in the goblins eye's, firmly replied, "Yes, I am Harold James of House Potter."

"Do you Harold James take responsibility for the actions of your companion while you are on the territory of Gringotts for the purpose of this visit?", asked Ragnok.

"I do", Harry replied.

Ragnok turned to Harsh, "You are allowed entrance into the halls of Gringotts on the guarantee of Harold James of House Potter for your behaviour. On his word, he will bear full liability for any consequences resulting from your actions."

Harsh smirked at him, "After you, Rug nut."

They followed Ragnok into the bank while the battalion of goblins opened the gates and stood down from high alert. Conditions returned to business as usual in the alley as the alarm stopped and customers were permitted access to the bank again.

Inside Harsh observed, "We must have rattled them pretty bad, Mr. Potter. There are legions of armed guards posted throughout the bank and they have erected all the additional wards to prevent anyone from entering by force."

As they were talking, Harsh smirked at a couple of goblins who looked fearfully upon him. Harry felt uneasy about the situation. He couldn't help but wonder what Harsh had done to earn the ire of the Goblins to that degree. Why did they seem so afraid of a single wizard? Judging by the smirk on Harsh's face, if the goblins offended him in anyway, it would not go well for them.

They were escorted by a squadron of armed Goblins and no less a person than Ragnok, the Goblin king himself, through the winding corridors of the bank until they came to an imposing double door of Goblin wrought silver with gold handles in the style of an oversized galleon. Ragnok scratched the door with his elaborately carved nail and the doors swung inward to admit them. Inside was an assortment of chairs to accommodate anything from Goblins to half-giants. On the walls hung paintings depicting scenes from Goblin battles. In one corner behind the desk was an armour rack, now empty because Ragnok was wearing it. The walls were covered with intricate gold leaf work over onyx stone. The floor was made of polished granite. Then, there was the desk. It was more like a conference table in scale, made of ebony inlaid with silver runes. The panels and feet under the desk were of intricately carved and polished teak and ironwood. Noticeably absent were anything resembling a filing cabinet or a plaque on the desk announcing the name and title of the person that normally sat behind it. The ceiling was festooned with crystals that glowed with their own soft light illuminating the room.

Ragnok quickly made his way around the desk removing his sword and helmet to place them on the armour stand. He then climbed into his chair gesturing to Harry and Harsh to be seated. He touched one of the runes on the desk and a moment later a young goblin entered the room. Ragnok gave him orders in their own tongue and the goblin retreated leaving them alone.

Then he turned to Harry, "Heir Potter, there has been some difficulty with you as a client. It is customary for heirs to receive the heir rings from the head of their families when they turn 11. If there are no parents, then we call upon them to come to Gringotts so that we can make the presentation on or shortly after their eleventh birthday. It would have been done this way if your manager was alive. Regretfully he died six years ago after having served House of Potter loyally for 80 years. When you turned 11, we waited for you to come and claim your inheritance. When you did come in the company of Rubeus Hagrid, you simply made a withdrawal from your trust vault and left. We had hoped that someone would have taught you about all this but apparently that was not the case. Now that you are here, we can do the needful and fulfil our obligations. The first thing to do today is to appoint a manager for your accounts and then we will perform inheritance tests for you which will tell us what families you are heir to."

Harry was glad to have brought Harsh along because he realised that he was out of his depth here. He had no idea how they would appoint a manager to his accounts. He turned to Harsh who looked at him and a sense of understanding passed between them.

On his behalf Harsh turned to the Goblin King, "Rug Nut, you need to call for the best possible candidates for the job. We will make our choice after we have seen what they are capable of."

Harry found the suggestion to be logical and nodded his head in agreement.

Ragnok called another goblin and barked some instructions to him. While they were waiting, the door suddenly opened and a very ancient goblin entered the room. Seeing him, Ragnok jumped down from his chair, bowing to him.

The older Goblin looked around the office and frowned when he noticed that Harsh, a wizard that was absolutely persona non grata on pain of death, was sitting, at his ease, in the office of the king.

Harsh saw the goblin and said cheekily, "Hello there, Iron Fist. You are still alive? All bones still intact? Not eaten by a dragon?"

Harry was amused at his audacity but the ancient goblin just sighed, "Who granted you entrance wizard?", making the last word sound like a curse.

Ragnok spoke a few rapid phrases in Gobbledegook which roughly translated to: "The Potter boy insisted that the bane of our existence accompany him or he and his allies would take all their gold to the thrice cursed Gnomes. My head was going to roll either way, so I bound the child to be liable and responsible for the slime-bag's behaviour."

What Ragnok didn't know is that Harsh spoke fluent Gobbledegook and understood every epithet directed toward him. He thought "Bane of our existence" was quite flattering.

Iron Fist glared at Harsh, "You have guts coming here, wizard considering you had to face a battalion of goblins last time you tried to gain entrance."

"I was never afraid of you or your nation, Iron Fist. It is just that in all these years, there was nothing that could put you in my path so I avoided you. However, as I recall now, last time I had trapped all of them in one of those fanciest vaults and I had hung you as an egg for the Norwegian Ridgeback. I never hoped to see you alive", said Harsh, grinning at him.

Harry was equally amused and scared. The mystic was an intriguing person. Sometimes he appeared jovial and sometimes, he was equally scary. All the history lessons with Binns where he managed to stay awake, Binns had droned on and on about the goblin bravery, courage and shrewdness. For someone to trap them in their own vaults and hang one as an egg was a prank that would impress the Marauders and the Weasley twins alike. But, Harry did not think that antagonizing the Goblins further was a good idea.

Iron Fist huffed, then making a sweeping motion with his hand toward Ragnok, indicating that he may as well get on with business, he took Ragnok's chair and sat down.

Ragnok pulled up another chair for himself and taking a seat, started addressing Harry, "Mr. Potter, after the inheritance tests are done, you need to make decisions with respect to your finances. You have a large amount of gold just lying around and it would be good to invest it. I have lined up several portfolios for you."

Harry nodded in agreement.

Moments later, the first Goblin returned with several journals which he placed on the table and left quickly. A minute later, three goblins entered the room standing before them.

Ragnok addressed Harry, "The one on your left is Bluntaxe, the middle one is Ugknus and the last one is Griphook. They are some of the goblins who are available and have sufficient training to handle accounts as vast as yours, Mr. Potter."

Harry turned to each of them, surveying them closely. When he reached the third goblin, he stared for a moment more before addressing him, "I know you. You are the goblin who showed me my trust vault, Griphook."

Griphook nodded his head but said nothing.

"Now Mr. Potter, let us proceed with the ritual", Ragnok said, calling Harry back to the table, handing him a knife and bowl which contained some potion while he picked up a parchment, "Please cut your palm a little and let your blood flow into the bowl. The results of the test will be shown on this parchment."

Bracing himself, Harry slashed his palm with the dagger and dropped some of his blood into the bowl. Ragnok poured it on the parchment which glowed golden and then letters started appearing.

Name- Harold James Potter

Father's Name- James Charlus Potter

Parents: Charlus Fleamont Potter & Dorea Potter nee Black

Mother's name- Lily Amaryllis Potter nee Rosier

Parents: Vincent Rosier & Emilia Rosier nee Weber

Heir to Houses:

Peverell

Potter

Rosier

Prospective heir to: House of Black and House of Weber.

The results had certainly surprised Harry. While he was reasonably certain that he would inherit the house of Potter and House of Black, he had no idea that he would inherit others too. Yes, he knew that he was also a descendent of the House of Peverell but he also knew that there had not been a Peverell lord since the lines had amalgamated. He knew it would be a surprise to everyone else but he did not know what changes it would bring in his life. He also pondered about the House of Rosier and realised that he should also be surprised about the blood status of his mother. Everyone in the wizarding world, including him, had believed until this moment that she was muggle born, but the parchment showed her as a daughter of the Rosier family. And what was this about being the prospective heir of this house of Weber? Who are the Webers anyway?

Finally, when his mouth engaged with his brain, he asked the first question that came to his mind, "Is the result dependable? I mean I don't think the results are quite right. My mother was muggle-born not a pureblood."

Ragnok gave him a feral grin, "In all its history, this test has never been wrong. If it says that your mother was not muggle-born then she was not muggle-born. Your mother was a pureblood witch of the House of Rosier."

"But how can it be?", Harry nearly shouted, "And what is House of Weber? I have never heard anything about them."

"Perhaps I can be of assistance here, Mr. Potter. The House of Weber was an old and influential house in Germany before Grindelwald's campaign. They took sides against Grindelwald and fought against him. Before the war, there were at least 30 members of the house but in the war and succeeding years, they were all killed except a daughter of the house who had escaped to France. The Webbers had been our allies at a point of time so I felt it was my duty to ensure her safety. We guarded here whenever we could until she met Vincent Rosier. He had just graduated from Hogwarts was on a tour of the world. He met Emilia in France where they fell in love and married. After they were married, they moved to wizarding Britain living away from Vincent's family who were considered Dark and Vincent did not want his children to grow up in his family.

They had more than one trouble however. One of the former knights of Grindelwald, who had sworn to destroy the House of Weber, had found them in Wizarding Britain and killed them. Shortly before they were killed, Ellia had given birth to a baby girl. On the day of their death, Vincent had been able to deliver her to a muggle orphanage as he succumbed to his death. From there she was adopted by a rich muggle Harrison Evans who had a daughter already and being able to sire no more children adopted Lily so that Petunia would have a sibling. Lily grew up thinking that she was a muggle born. This was just before the rise of Voldemort and Vincent's brother Felix who did not know anything about his sister-in-law or his niece joined the death eaters and was killed in the first wizarding war at the hands of Alastor Moody."

Harry listened to him with rapt attention. When Harsh was done, he asked, "How long have you known that my mother was a pureblood and that Petunia was only her sister by adoption? And does this mean that I am not a half-blood?"

Harsh frowned, "We stopped tracking Emilia and Vincent after they left France for we were reasonable certain that they will be safe in Wizarding Britain but by the time we realised what had happened, Lilly's parents had been killed and no one knew where she was. I knew everything up to that Vincent had disappeared with her after having killed their assailant but I lost the story there. And why would you call yourself a half-blood?"

"I thought my mother was muggle-born and my father was a pure-blood so that would make me a half-blood. At least, that is what everyone says", Harry replied.

"Mr. Potter, a half-blood is one who has one magical parent and one muggle parent", Harsh gently replied, "Your mother, even if she was a muggle-born was magical and that will make you a full blood. I swear Wizarding Britain is going backwards these days".

"What does me being Lord Peverell mean?", Harry asked.

"The Peverells were forces of nature. They were mages and they were revered by necromancers for they were the only ones in history who were successful in invoking death to help them. They were formidable wizards in their own might and their foes trembled before them. Yet despite having such power, they didn't act to take whatever took their fancy for they believed in working hard to gain anything. They were considered so powerful that even the nefarious witch Morgana le Fay avoided them till she could. If they stepped into any battle, they had the power to change the course of battle in their favour. It is said that they were favoured ones of mother magics. The House of Peverell, House of Pendragon and House of Le Fay have Reverent status and despite having been exhausted millennia ago, their seats in the Wizengamot remains. Their family magic is very different from others and often only manifests in direst of times but there hasn't been a Lady La Fey or Lord Pendragon for long now. Being Lord of Peverell, you will claim 5 votes for that seat alone. This will change the politics of Wizengamot."

"As much as I would like to hear more of this illuminating conversation, we have work to do and for us goblins, time is money", barked Ragnok.

"Oh right, we digressing. Mr. Potter you really need to put a cap on your questions. We are on a tight schedule and have no time to dally around. I will sate all your curiosity but for the time being, please make a list", Harsh said, smiling at him.

Harry nodded and turned to the three goblins, "So, I have a job for one of you which I am told will require shrewdness, intelligence and will thoroughly test your skills. As Lord Ragnok told me, the previous Account Manager for the Potter family Rodlast has been dead for some time now and the position is vacant. So each of you, in turn, will tell me why you are best qualified to manage my accounts. The one that impresses me will have a two-year probation. If your performance is satisfactory for that period, I will make the appointment permanent. Do you accept these terms?"

The three Goblins nodded in agreement as Ragnok observed curiously. The young Potter already showed some business acumen like his forefathers. May be it won't be that bad after all.

The first goblin, Bluntaxe, with a grin worthy of the dreams of avarice, started, "I can double your money in a year, four fold in two years and I will make sure that your estate is well cared for."

The second, Ugknus, who seemed young as Goblins go, said nervously, "I can triple your money with heavy investing and find other ways to increase your income. And I can help you expand your estates further making sure your influence grows."

The third Goblin Griphook spoke solemnly, "Mr. Potter, your accounts have been neglected for six years as there was no one appointed to manage them. Seeing that you are also inheriting other estates and accounts, they will require a full audit and review before I can even begin to advise you on next steps. With what I have already seen, you have a number of debtors who are behind on their payments. I can start sending collection notices immediately if you wish. You have a number of estates that are in stasis and the few that are active are in need of repair and the rents need review. I can have a preliminary report ready in a month's time. My best guess is that it will take at least a year to bring your estates up to standard which will require significant expenditures, but well within your means. In the mean-time, I have prepared a list of investments that have a strong probability of yielding lucrative returns."

Of all the three, only Griphook had bothered to do any homework prior to the meeting. His was not an empty promise or a boast, but; a neat, brief and realistic report on the state of Harry's holdings. There was only one clear choice. He turned to Griphook and said, "Congratulations Account Manager Griphook. The job is yours. You are now the account manager for my holdings and estates. We will have an annual review of your work and if you prove to be satisfactory after two years, I will make the appointment permanent. As for those collections: If it is rent in arrears from people living with leaky roofs and broken plumbing, hold off until their tenements are set to rights. If, however, they are simply loans, feel free to collect as you see fit."

Ragnok spoke, "Now that you have an account manager, we must move on to other business. Ordinarily, even as a last scion and heir, you would not be able to claim Lordship of your house until you reach the age of majority. But, you are not ordinary, are you Mr. Potter? Recently, you participated in a tournament which was designated for wizards who were seventeen or above. Therefore, the goblet of fire deemed you to be an adult. Consequently, you are an adult for all legal purposes now. You may immediately claim lordship over houses for which you are the clear successor and you may contest lordship over houses for which you have a legitimate claim. The question is, do you wish to take up your responsibilities at this time?"

It was not an easy decision for Harry. He knew practically nothing about being a Lord not having been trained for the role. If he took up the responsibility and stumbled badly, it would look bad for him but it was also clear to him that if he did not step up, he would always be subjected to the machinations of others.

He looked Ragnok, squarely in the eye and replied, "The House of Peverell, Potter, Rosier and Weber are ready for their new lord."

Ragnok turned to Griphook and barked in their language, who then led the other two account managers out of the chamber.

"As we wait for him to return, remember Mr. Potter that from this moment on, you shall be responsible for your life, for the decisions that you make and the friendships you cultivate. I knew of your father and forefathers and I look forward to you making your mark on our world."

Griphook returned a few minutes later carrying an ornate wooden box. He gave the box to Ragnok, who opened it and Harry saw it contained rings. Ragnok passed the first ring to Harry, "Since you are the Lord of House of Potter foremost, take this ring which belonged to your father and his father and forefathers and claim it as your own. May magic be merciful."

Harry examined the ornate ring. It was an amethyst mounted on a band of goblin silver. There was a griffin, the Potter house animal engraved into the top of the gem. He could feel the ring vibrating slightly in his palm as if it were quivering. When he placed it on his finger, he felt immense pressure coursing through his body and memories of his life seemed to pass before his eyes. It went on for a few moments before his magic flared, welcoming the pressure and embracing it. A moment later, the pressure ceased.

"The family magic of House of Potter has accepted you as its master. It is the way it shall be as long as you live and breathe in this world or you decide to abdicate in favour of your children."

"Now, claim the magic of your forefathers, the mages, which has slept for millennia but now awakens in you", said Ragnok reverently, "the magic of the revered of the necromancers calls upon you, Harry Potter. Do you accept?"

Harry accepted the Peverell ring from Ragnok which was a golden band with an obsidian stone atop it bearing a strange creature on it. When he put the ring on, he felt a great pressure on his mind as if someone were reading his mind to deduce he was who he claimed to be. The pressure was so intense that it caused him to almost pass out. After what seemed like a long time, he could breathe again. After he was accepted by the magic of the Peverell family, he felt as if he woke from a long sleep. Such power coursed through his veins that he felt as if he was the most powerful wizard in the world and none could conquer him. It was like some part of him had been missing all along and had just come back to him. The magic brought power to him but it also brought peace to him. Such peace as he had never experienced in his short life of 15 years.

"The magic of the followers of the Great Dragon calls upon you to lay its claim upon you, Harry Potter", chanted Ragnok, "Will you accept its call or let it lie waste?"

The Rosier Ring was a Platinum band with a ruby atop it bearing a dragon on it. The Rosier magic felt incredibly powerful but not as much as the Peverell magic. It scanned him for a long time, then finding him worthy, it melded with other magics in him.

The last ring was one Harry did not recognize. Ragnok presented it to him saying, "This is the ring of the House of Weber of Germany. If there were any other members available, you would not even be in the running to be the heir, but; since there are none and the family is all but gone, it is for you to claim. The family does not carry a hereditary seat like your other lordships, but; carries large vaults which add significant gold to your already considerable accounts. The Grimoire is in the family vault and you can claim it when you enter. The estates are under stasis charms like the estates of your other houses. I would like it if you would lift the stasis charms off them but it depends on you solely. The house animal is a unicorn."

Harry took the ring which was a golden band with a Lapis Lazuli atop it bearing a Unicorn, and put it on his ring finger where other rings had melded together. The Weber magic was fierce but gentle and within a matter of seconds had accepted him.

"Now the next one is the ring of the Lord of House of Black", Ragnok said, "Sirius Black is your godfather and the blood-heir. Unless the blood heir dies and leaves it to you or he abdicates in your favour, you are not going to become the Lord of Black until then."

Harry nodded, "I have no problem with Sirius Black having control over the family and its affairs. Is that all for today?"

"Accept our congratulations, Harold James, Lord of Houses of Potter, Peverell, Rosier and Weber", chanted Iron Fist nodding his head to Harry who returned the gesture.

As the ceremony went on, two goblins entered the room carrying in armful of documents which they dumped upon the desk. Harsh shrank them with just a touch and handed them to Harry, leaving him gaping in wonder at this fancy display of magic.

"Is there any more business, Mr. Potter?", asked Ragnok.

"As a matter of fact, there is. I would like to visit my family vaults and collect the Grimoires that you mentioned.", Harry heard the word a couple of times. Out of curiosity had researched it and was fascinated with them. Since the time he came to know that his family was Ancient and Most Noble, he wished that he could access his family Grimoire. Now that the chance was here, he wanted to claim all of them before he went off traipsing all over the world.

"Mr. Potter, I know you are excited about Grimoires but it would not be wise to take them with you to where you are going. What you will learn is important for you before you try anything from those Grimoires, besides I am sure I can help you with the magic of Potter and Peverell", Harsh said gently and Harry reluctantly nodded.

"Now that we are done here, perhaps we should take our leave of these charming fellows, who cannot wait to see us off of their property", Said Harsh, smirking at Iron Fist who was scowling. As they were about to leave, Griphook returned with a money bag and a card for Harry telling him that the bag would not run empty while there was gold in his account and the card would work anywhere in the Muggle world. Instructing Griphook to put his affairs in order and informing him that he would take up the heirship of Black at his next visit, he followed Harsh out of the Bank. It was about 11:00 in the morning.

"Blimey! We spent two hours in there, Mr. Potter", he said to Harry, "I do not know of you but I am feeling hungry."

Harry didn't say anything but his stomach growled, making Harsh chuckle. They went to the Leaky Cauldron and through it into Muggle London where they took lunch in an Indian cafe.

When Harry raised his eyes over this, Harsh did not reply but only smiled at him. After trying dishes such as curried goat, buttered chicken, some kind of fried flat bread, fried rice, and some spicey stir-fried vegetables, harry was impressed and quite full. By that time, it was almost noon. Harry took out the letter That Augusta gave him and both of them held it. As the clock struck noon, they felt a tug behind their navels and disappeared into thin air.

LONGBOTTOM CASTLE, SOMEWHERE IN THE WILDERNESS

The portkey deposited them in a clearing surrounded by heavy woods. Harry promptly stumbled and landed in a heap on the ground as the portkey stopped pulling him. Next to him, Harsh took two steps and came to a stop, smirking at Harry.

As Harry picked himself up, brushing leaves and grass from his outfit, he asked, "Where are we?"

As if in answer to his question, an elf appeared near them. This elf was dressed in a robe with the Longbottom crest, was tall and had a pencil nose with amber eyes. It squeaked at them, "I is Squeaky. Sirs follow me."

Squeaky led them along a winding path until they left the forest. Once they were clear of the trees, they sighted a castle in the distance, peaking through a ring of magnificent old oaks. As they passed through the ring of trees, Harry could see that the grounds enclosed by the circle were vast, well maintained and populated with greenhouses and stables. The elf walked ahead of them, bobbing its head up and down and leading them towards the castle that they could see in the distance.

"Is it just whimsey or is there a good reason to plant trees in a circle around the property in Pureblood families?", Harry asked.

Harsh smirked at the question, "Mr. Potter, it would be easy to answer the question if I know what electives have you taken for your OWLs?"

"Divination and Care of Magical Creatures.", he said sheepishly, knowing no one ever approved of those subjects as electives knowing them to be easy OWLs.

If Harry had known better, he would not have taken Divination as an elective since he now considered that the subject was a sham. All the alleged prophecies that Trelawney made were just mumbo-jumbo.

"Divination, hmmm I wonder what made you do so?", he mused, "Divination is not a bad subject actually. It is rather a science and there have been prophecies which have come true all these ages but what the British Wizards call Divination is a sham. As a subject, you can excel in divination only if you have the sight otherwise the subject is simply wasteful. You have had true seers here but their numbers have been dwindling. I believe the last well-known true seer in Avalon was Cassandra Trelawney, who left Wizarding Britain shortly after Voldemort fell at your hands. In India, there are many branches of Divination and most of them are also used by muggles, however; they do not use those arts like wizards do. We don't scorn this subject per se but we know only those gifted with sight can make any good use of it."

Harry listened to him with rapt attention. Nobody he had ever met had said a positive word about Divination and perhaps with Sybill Trelawney, the subject had nothing positive to offer. But hadn't she made a prophecy that Peter Pettigrew would escape that night and the prophecy came true? Why had Harsh Vardhana said that she was not a true seer?

"Mr. Harsh, at the end of my third year, I heard Professor Trelawney making a prophecy that the servant of the dark lord would escape to return to him and bring him back. That night Peter Pettigrew escaped Hogwarts and went to find Voldemort. The rat was instrumental for putting that maniac back into a body."

"I don't mean that she is not a seer, Mr. Potter. She is a seer but she is not a true seer. While most of what she says is rather nothing but there are so many things she say off-handedly which turn out to be true. She has the gift but she has no control over it. At times, when the gift becomes too much, she can see scattered glimpses of future which means she can see something will happen but nothing that happened before it or will happen after it. A true seer can actually look on the future or the past like I am looking at you. They can control and alter the future by a single decision of theirs and that is why they are most feared. They are always conscious of the future and the past while they live in the present. At present, there are a few students in your school who have the gift of the sight, though. One is a Ravenclaw girl whose inner eye is rather very strong and there are only a few secrets which can evade her. Other is a pair of Indian twins in your year but out of them, only one has interest in the subject. Have you ever wondered why Ms. Padma Patil is so smart, Mr. Potter?"

Harry was fascinated by Harsh's answers. Now that he thought about it, he recalled Hermione telling him that Padma often guessed correctly beforehand and was scarily smart. Padma was magically more powerful than Hermione and was good in theory. She often fought for the top spot with Hermione and Daphne Greengrass from Slytherin. Parvati was also smart but was more into gossip than studying. Perhaps this was the reason that she was often quoted as the source of many of the rumours which made their way through the Hogwarts grapevine. Inwardly, Harry resolved to be wary of the twins who, in their own way, were probably scarier than the Weasley twins.

"Here we be, sirs", said the elf pointing to the massive gates of the castle. The castle was a huge, three floored structure with four towers, one at each corner, but not exactly in the directions of the compass. It was spread over a large area and there were stables in the distance where Harry could see some Hippogriffs milling about.

Augusta and Neville Longbottom were standing outside the front doors, looking anxious. As they approached, Neville came forward and embraced Harry in a brotherly hug, "Welcome to the Longbottom castle, Heir Potter."

"Neville, to you, I am always Harry", Harry said, smiling.

"Actually Heir Longbottom, it is Lord Potter-Peverell-Rosier-Weber now", said Harsh, mock bowing to Harry who rolled his eyes while Neville was staring at him, wide-eyed.

"Are you really Lord of four Houses?", asked Neville still surprised.

"A story for another time, Mr. Longbottom, which I know Mr. Potter will be happy to tell you in all its glory", said Harsh smiling at the duo, "but for now, we have some rather urgent matters to tend to."

Harsh stepped up to Augusta who had been fondly looking upon the duo of Neville and Harry and smiling, remembering another Potter and Longbottom, who had walked around this place like brothers a generation ago. However, unlike these, those boys were never just the two of them. James never came alone but with his posse of friends like the heir of Black, Remus Lupin who was always a kind boy and Peter Pettigrew whom she had seen as a hero for nigh on 14 years before Neville returned from Hogwarts at the end of his fourth year.

"Augusta, it's a pleasure to see you again.", Harsh said bowing to her, taking her hand and pretending to kiss her knuckles, "is everything ready?"

Augusta nodded her head, "My elf squeaky will show you the chambers. Frank and Alice will be arriving by portkey presently."

Harry stepped up to her and she embraced him, "Harry, as I have told you already you are like Neville to me. You do not need to bow to me and you may call me Gran."

Harry was touched by the gesture and returned her embrace with equal affection. The muggles may not have been his true relatives but he was making his own family now.

"Mr. Potter, it will take me sometime to set up the ritual chamber as per the specifications before we can try anything and that will take some time", Harsh said, "till then, why don't you take a tour of this castle and see what is there to see."

Harry nodded and departed with Neville to take a tour of the place while Harsh was led to the dungeons where the ritual was to be performed.

"There is not much to see here", Neville said, "I don't visit here more than a handful of times a year and when I do, I spend most of my time either in the Greenhouses or the hippogriff stables. Let me show you the greenhouses."

In the greenhouses, Harry was astonished to see that Neville was looking after and maintaining plants that were not taught in the curriculum at Hogwarts. Some were so rare that they were not even available there.

"Where did you get these plants?"

"Great Uncle Algie is fond of finding rare and valuable plants whenever he is overseas and he brings them home for me", Neville said, "he knows that I love plants."

As they talked, Neville brought him to the stables where a number of Hippogriffs and many flying horses were kept.

"Do you ride them, Neville?", Harry asked.

Neville shook his head ruefully, "Never when Gran is watching. She's afraid I might fall off and break my neck or something. But, I have been out a couple of times when she wasn't around. The elves showed me how to work the tack and bridle and showed me how to ride. I would like to think that I'm pretty good at it. When Hagrid showed us the Hippogriffs, I was hoping I would get to ride. But, Malfoy had to be a stupid git and it never happened. Damn Malfoy and his ancestry anyway!"

Harry laughed at his indignation. It was hard to imagine Neville as the shy clumsy Gryffindor he had been a week earlier. Ever since he got his wand, he had been improving. Harry had seen his power first-hand and was sure that Neville would be turning heads very soon.

"Harry when you return from your journey, why don't you come visit me here. I will persuade Gran to let you stay here and we can practice magic and learn new spells and curses."

"Not to turn you down but as of now, I don't know where I am going or when I will return", Harry said, "And then there is the fact that I have to take up my seat on the Wizengamot which will be a task in itself and occupy any free time that I would have before we return to the castle."

"I understand, Harry", Neville said, patting his arm.

"Hang on. You can do magic here?", Harry asked confused, "But won't that get you into trouble with the ministry? I mean I was served with a notice for a hovering charm that Dobby used at the Muggles."

Neville noticed the venom with which he mentioned the muggles and did not raise the issue but chose to answer his question, "The tracking charm of the ministry only works in houses of muggle born students. The ministry can only detect if magic is cast but not who cast it. The children of pureblood families practice magic all summer long without any problems."

"But that's unfair to the muggle born students", protested Harry, "how can they expect to compete with the pure blood students when they do not get the same treatment as them?"

"I know, Harry but we cannot change it right now. Later when we are on our family seats, maybe we can advocate for changes in the system.", said Neville trying to pacify Harry before he exploded.

Harry knew that Neville was speaking the truth so, he dropped the subject. Instead, he switched to small-talk with Neville and started asking him for details about his life up to this point, such as his family and what it was like growing up on the estate. The time passed quickly and before they knew it, the elf appeared to inform them that they were wanted in the ritual chamber.

Ritual Chamber, Longbottom Castle

The ritual chamber was a large, underground room with a duelling arena in the middle of it. There was also a practice range off in one corner, where target dummies were set up for them. In another part of the room, Harsh had inscribed some runes on the floor. Having never studied Runes, Harry could not make heads or tails of them but Harsh explained that those runes were to prevent the magical outburst, from either Frank or Alice, from escaping and causing damage to the chamber or the castle or its occupants.

"These symbols have been drawn with the runes from the Brahmi script, the runic language of the magical Sanskrit language. These runes together make a containment ward, which will help contain the magical outbursts", he said, explaining to them.

He pointed out a large rune in the centre of the circular ward scheme to them, "This is Om. The primordial sound. The symbol of infinity and nothingness beyond which there is nothing. This is the sound of the Universe. It is the start and it is the end of everything and there is no sound greater than this. Now I need you Mr. Potter and Mr. Longbottom, to put your wands on this and push your magic into this rune. This will power the ward scheme. Keep pouring the magic into it till it is glowing golden."

"I do not have a wand, Mr. Harsh ", Harry said to him, frowning.

"My apologies, Mr. Potter, I had promised to give you a wand which would help you", Harsh said, "since I do not have a wand to present to you as your own, why don't you use one of these until we can get you a wand for your own?"

He pulled two wands out of his pockets and offered them to Harry. The first wand felt like dead wood to Harry's senses, similar to the phoenix feather and holly wand that he still carried for sentimental reasons. But, the second wand felt warm to his touch. It wasn't anywhere near as good as the old wand that was destroyed in the graveyard used to be, but with a bit more effort, it would do.

"Umm... how are we supposed to do this?", asked Neville.

"Just put your wand to the symbols and will your magic to flow and keep pouring till the runes glow gold", Harsh replied encouragingly, "It will start charging the rune but do not exhaust yourself."

Harry and Neville followed his instructions simultaneously, however, Harry noticed that he had to concentrate more to make the wand work. He understood how Neville would have felt, working with a wand that had never chosen him. After a few minutes but what felt like hours, Harry saw the symbol glowing golden.

"Why are they charging the runes and not you?", asked Healer Lynn, coming in the room with Frank and Alice Longbottom hovering behind her, strapped on two stretchers and being carried into the chambers by two trainee healers.

"Simply because they are more powerful than me or anyone else in this room", Harsh answered amusedly, "these boys are pretty powerful, Healer Lynn and by the time their magical core would stop growing, they would be the most powerful wizards in Magical Britain."

Healer Lynn looked sceptical, "May I?", she asked brandishing her wand at Neville who dumbly nodded. She cast some diagnostic spells at him and her eyes widened. She repeated the same with Harry and her eyebrows climbed so far up her forehead it looked like they would just vanish.

She gulped, "Indeed they are incredibly powerful. There cores are already bigger than most adult wizards in Britain. I believe that by the age of Seventeen, Mr. Potter will easily be a highly accomplished Grand Sorcerer with Mr. Longbottom not far behind. In fact, there have not been such powerful wizards in recent history."

"This ritual will require me to spend a lot of my strength to try and revive them and I cannot risk my strength by using to charge the runes, so I decided to use these power houses here", he said, winking at the duo.

Harsh ushered the trainee healers out of the room and asked Augusta to take Alice to another room since he would be treating only one of them at a time. He laid Frank in the centre of the circle on a very intricately drawn design.

"This will keep him from moving too much during the ritual.", he announced, "While I am doing the ritual, please do not come inside the circle and if Frank starts to stir without me waking up, please stun him to immobilise him. If he is awakened during the ritual, it can be fatal for him or me."

He turned to the duo, "Mr. Potter and Mr. Longbottom, if the energy in the rune starts to fade, please feel free to pour energy into the rune. It shall always remain golden."

Harry and Neville nodded in grim determination.

Harsh sat in meditating position, his legs folded beneath him, his wand in his right hand and both of his arms on his knees, palms facing upwards. He started chanting some incantations in a strange language and while they could not understand the words, the power in the words could be felt by them giving goosebumps to everyone present in the chamber., Harsh closed his eyes and went still. Then a moment later, Frank stirred for a second before going still.

Frank's mindscape

Harsh found himself in Frank's mindscape. He had entered frank's mind by going into a trance leaving his body behind. The entrance of the mindscape resembled the real Longbottom castle. There were elves milling about. They looked emaciated as if someone had been keeping them hungry and torturing them. The grass around the castle was withered and the trees were uprooted. The walls had cracks in them and the doors were ajar with no one guarding them. The stables he had noticed were destroyed with bodies of dead beasts littered on the ground. The woods around the castle were utterly destroyed with trees uprooted, burned or blasted into smithereens. He walked up the stairs where he knew the Lord's study was. The entrance to the bedroom was guarded by a legion of animated suits of armour which were barring all entry to the room.

"Stand aside", Harsh commanded them, "your lord is not in danger anymore. He needs to be set free".

The suits did not respond and when he took one step forward, one of the suits slashed at him with its sword, menacing him. Harsh easily side stepped the blow. He did not want to cause any harm to the suits which were basically protections against mind intrusion, but they had become a problem for Frank. The suits had kept him here not allowing him to escape and thus, he could not be cured. Unless these were disabled, he could not access the room. He was choosing not to be violent because that would risk Frank stirring and waking leaving Harsh trapped within.

As he made an attempt to step by them again, two of the suits attacked him simultaneously. He neatly rolled under the blades and retreated again. Next, he tried to use a disillusion charm, but nothing happened. He tried a few more spells and discovered, to his horror, that none of his magic worked. He had been in mindscapes before, but his magic fizzling out was a first.

Since the animated suits of armour appeared to be content to hold their position unless he advanced on them, Harsh took a few minutes to discover the cause of his magic failing. He found protective wards inscribed in several places. And there, carved into the ceiling high overhead and above the phalanx, was a magic supressing rune. What was truly odd was that the rune should have prevented the armour from being animated. In any case, he would not be able to employ magic to get past the guards.

The only way through was to risk dismantling the suits and hope they stayed that way long enough for him to enter the study. He had to depend on Harry and Neville following orders because if Frank stirred, as a result of the violence in his mindscape, and they did not stun him immediately, Harsh might be spending the rest of his life trapped here.

So, no magic, but after over a thousand years of being a Mystic, Harsh knew a thing or two about the martial disciplines too. He approached and baited one of the suits into attacking him. As the broadsword whistled by, Harsh stepped in and trapped the blade between his palms. He yanked as he kicked the suit in the chest-plate. As the armour tumbled backward into its companions, Harsh flipped the sword and grasped it by the pommel with his right hand. A broadsword, one of the heaviest one-handed weapons, was not well suited for the swift and subtle type of combat Harsh preferred, but he would make do.

In the next moment, with a flash of steel and the sound of a tin can ripping apart, the helmet of the first suit parted company with the rest of the armour. Then with the crash of hardened steel on hardened steel, he parried the blow and disarmed the next suit. As the blade spun singing through the air, Harsh caught the pommel of the second blade in his left hand.

Seeing two of their fellows incapacitated, the remaining suits formed a ring around Harsh and began to circle him and wait for his next move. Harsh had to admire Frank Longbottom in that moment. That man was simply a genius with manoeuvres since the suits only mimicked what Frank knew and Frank was apparently a master of tactics.

The suits circled him and kept moving around him, not giving him a chance to escape while Harsh simply kept his swords ready to parry any blow or take advantage of any opening to strike. After sometime, the suits became tired of all the waiting and 4 of them pounced on him at once. Harsh, who had been a warrior for ages, simply jumped through the air and somersaulting, was out of the circle. The suits scrambled to turn around and fight him when he went into action slashing, stabbing or simply swiping his swords through the swathe of the suits. In a matter of seconds, Harsh stood alone with a rather large pile of dismantled armour in front of him. He knew that he had to move quickly because the suits soon started moving, re-assembling themselves.

Seeing no other way out and not able to use magic, he stabbed both swords through the middle of the doors of the Lord's study and the castle shook like there was an earth quake. Working fast, he was able to wrestle the doors open before the suits could finish re-assembling and attack him again. He bolted the door from the inside. He knew that the suits would not force open the door of the Lord's study but was wary of the dangers which may be lurking within. When he turned his attention to the inside of the room, to his surprise, Frank Longbottom sat behind the ornate desk made of polished Cedar, the Longbottom crest atop it. He looked like Neville Longbottom but a little older. He was tall, his brown hair down to his strong, broad shoulders, electric blue eyes and an angular face. Overall he looked like one of the chivalric heroes from the stories of old. He was engrossed in a book and did not even look up when Harsh entered the room.

"Lord Longbottom.", Harsh addressed him.

Frank looked up from his book, but maintained his calm as if finding a powerfully built Indian, wielding dual swords in his private study was a perfectly ordinary experience.

Harsh spoke again, "It is time to return to consciousness."

Now Frank looked just a bit annoyed, "How did you get past my guards? Who are you anyway? And what do you mean by return to consciousness?"

Harsh chuckled briefly, then sobered up, "You mean you have been locked here against your will? You mean to say the door was not locked by you?"

"Yes. They locked the door from outside. I seem to have lost my wand and I can no longer command them nor can I unlock the door by magic", Frank said, frowning.

"There is a magic suppressing rune on the ceiling of the corridor outside", Harsh said, "I guess that stops you from using magic here? Was it not your doing?"

"My dear fellow. This is my castle. Why would I engrave a magic suppressing rune on my castle?", he asked scowling.

"We need to go now, Lord Longbottom.", said Harsh gently, "People outside are getting anxious. They have not heard from you for 14 years."

"What do you mean?", asked Frank, confused, "Just yesterday, Voldemort was defeated. How can it be 14 years?"

"It has been 14 years. You will be explained everything. This is not the real world but your mind scape where all your protections died with the overexposure of Cruciatus curse and you were ensconced here by your magic.", Harsh said explaining, "once you are full in health, you will need to remake your mindscape or perhaps choose a new one if you cannot bring it into its previous state."

"Do you know what has happened during all these years? If it has been 14 years then Mother must have grown old, her face creased with lines of worry and little Neville would be a fine young man by now. He was just a little toddler then. And my love Alice, I can't imagine that I didn't even ask about her or about my other friends. The Potters died a day ago and we all were grieving", he said, looking distant and gloomy, "Sirius had been sitting at dinner with us that evening when he suddenly left saying he was going to check on James and Lilly. That night we received the news that James and Lilly had died but little Harry survived. Alice wanted to take Harry in with Sirius's consent knowing he was his godfather. We had returned to Green Hues when we were attacked. Mother was not at the mansion, having gone to live at Uncle Algie's place for the duration. I remember attacking the Lestrange brothers, but someone knocked me out with a curse from behind. I felt the pain of the Cruciatus curse and my mind defences immediately brought my consciousness here to the safety of the Lord's study while activating other defences. I don't know what has happened since then."

"Lord Longbottom, you will know everything when you wake up but my time here is short. I have reached here with a lot difficulty and I am not sure I can do it again. Only I can bring you back. Let us not tarry", he said, urging him.

Frank sighed and nodded. When they unbolted the doors and tried to pull the doors open, they would not budge but Harsh again levered the doors with the swords and wrestled them open. As soon as the doors opened, he saw that the suits had lined up in Phalanx formation, ready to begin their assault again.

Before they could, a regal voice cut through the air, "Stand down!" Frank Longbottom came through the doors, standing tall, looking regal and his eyes blazing with power.

The suits immediately went on their knees before him and he addressed them, "You have served me well but your services are not required as of now. I shall call upon you when I need you again. Go back to your positions."

The suits stood up and started moving throughout the castle, placing themselves in their usual niches. Harsh and Frank exited the castle and immediately Harsh grabbed his hand and disappeared.

Longbottom castle, Ritual chamber

Everyone present in the chamber was getting anxious. It had been nearly two hours and yet there was no sign of Frank waking up or any movement from Harsh's body. There had been moments when Frank stirred violently and the healers had to stun him. There was a time where he had some sort of seizure and Neville had been worried but the Healer had stunned Frank calmly and looked upon Neville telling him that it was a good sign since this was the first time in 15 years that Frank's mind was responding to some of her diagnostic spells. That had been 1 hour ago.

Suddenly, Frank's body jerked before going still but the Healer was calm. Harsh opened his eyes and ennervated Frank who woke up, looking all groggy and dazed and grinned stupidly, "It feels good to be back."

Augusta who was present in the chamber was hugging Neville so fiercely that he feared his ribs would break. She was shaking and sobbing while Neville felt his shoulders getting wet. He realised that his Gran was crying and unwillingly, tears started to fall from his eyes but Neville did not care to wipe them. He had his father back.

He noticed Harry looking longingly at the scene and he could imagine his pain. Gently extricating himself from his Gran's embrace, he pulled Harry towards him and hugged him fiercely.

After 5 minutes, Harsh approached Augusta, "It is my pleasure to announce Augusta that your son has been returned to you, however, I must caution you against breaking any bad news to him about the wizarding world at least for a month. His mind and body are frail and would need to be strengthened before he is ready to hear anything. I would advise you to keep him isolated from others for the time being."

Neville who had a large smile plastered upon his face said hoarsely, "What about my mother?"

Harsh smiled at him, "Mr. Longbottom, the treatment takes a lot out of a wizard and the power you both voluntarily poured in the ward gave me a great boost but this still caused me exhaustion. So, after a rather heavy lunch, which I think you both would prefer to partake, we can remedy her ailments after an hour."

Neville was reluctant but nodded. He felt the drain on his magic that powering the runes had cost him. He and Harry had to re-energize the runes twice, which only took a few seconds, but felt like hours and took a lot from them.

"Mr. Harsh, the house of Longbottom is eternally indebted to you", said Augusta, her voice still hoarse from crying, "Whenever you need the assistance of House Longbottom, the house of Longbottom will answer your call."

"I appreciate the gesture, Augusta. Now Lord Longbottom is sleeping after being given a dose of dreamless sleep potion and by my calculation, he will sleep soundly for 6 hours before he wakes up but then he will be famished of hunger and will require a feast to feast on. The same with Lady Longbottom, but please make sure that they are not taxing their strengths and getting proper sleep. I will be leaving the rest of their recuperation in the able hands of Healer Lynn', he smiled genially at the Healer, 'I remember my promise Healer Lynn. I will eventually detail you about the ritual but I would rather that you never reveal this secret."

"I can take a magical oath, if it is satisfactory", she replied eagerly.

The group then retired to the dining room for lunch and ate like they had been famished for ages. After they were done, Harsh signalled that it was time for them to go and raise Alice Longbottom. Harsh was curious to see what her mindscape would be like.

Alice's Mindscape

After Harry and Neville charged up the runes again and all else was made ready, Harsh entered into the meditative state. When he entered her mindscape he was surprised. Her mindscape was a forest but the forest was dying. The grass was wilted and dead. The trees in the forest were either uprooted or burned as if thunderbolts had struck them. Several of the trees were magical and could be found only in the Forbidden Forest surrounding Hogwarts. There were a lot of creatures in the forest but most of them were dead, the air was full of smoke and decay. He noticed a hippogriff lying on the ground, dying, it's wings ripped off. Apparently it had fallen from flight because its tack was still on its back. There was a Unicorn which was dead in a pool of silver blood, a Manticore dead as if blasted by a blasting hex from the inside, a Demiguise almost dead, Bowtruckles running around looking for trees to inhabit, a Niffler digging in the ground perhaps looking for gold.

"So this is where young Neville got his love for Herbology", he mused. What worried him now, was trying to determine, in all this forest and with the number and types of creatures unknown, where Alice Longbottom might be.

Suddenly the roar of an enraged dragon echoed through the forest. It sounded like the dragon was engaged in battle. Under normal circumstances, it would be a good idea to run, not walk away from an enraged dragon, but Harsh thought that this may be a clue as to where Alice could be found, so he followed the sound. Making his way through the remains of the shattered and uprooted trees, it didn't take Harsh long before he came upon the scene.

A fully grown Romanian longhorn was fighting with a Wyvern and it looked like it was protecting a little hut in the clearing. Quickly disillusioning himself and using a scent masking charm, he proceeded to the hut and entered it stealthily. Like many other wizarding spaces, the hut was larger inside and was a two story building. In the middle of the entrance hall, stood Alice Longbottom, who had a lithe figure, good height, auburn haired and round faced with brown eyes.

She pointed her wand at him, "Identify yourself or die."

He raised his hands in surrender, "I come in peace, Lady Longbottom. I have come to take you out of here."

She frowned, "There is nothing outside of here. I have been searching forever it seems. Sometimes I feel like I am out of here and I see a young Frank before me but at other times, I feel like I am in the void. I have been fighting against this menace which is destroying the forest, killing the creatures. I adopted the Romanian Longhorn and it has been protecting me from other beasts for a long time now."

"This, Lady Longbottom," he said, "is your mindscape where you conscious was whisked away when you and Frank were assaulted with the over exposure of torture curse at the hands of..."

She cut in before he could finish, "The Lestranges and Barty Crouch Jr."

"Yes and it is the effects of the over-exposure that has been destroying your mindscape for last 14 years and turning the beasts against you", he said sombrely.

"What? Has it been 14 years?", she asked, unable to believe him.

"Yes, Lady Longbottom and a lot has changed in the world. Lord Longbottom and you have been dallying for enough. It's time to wake up.", he said gently.

"But how?", she asked.

"First we help the Romanian Longhorn kill the Wyvern and then I will take you out of here", he said.

Nodding her head, she gripped her wand firmly marching outside. Together, they cast the Bombarda jinx at the Wyvern diverting its attention. In that moment, the Dragon swooped down. With one swipe of his mighty claws, the Wyvern's head rolled to the forest floor.

The dragon lowered her head to Alice and she patted its snout before turning away, tears in her eyes. Harsh grabbed her hand and they both disappeared.

In the ritual chamber, Alice Longbottom stirred once before going still again. Harsh opened his eyes. Signalling the healer to enervate her and administer the dreamless sleep potion, he retired to the parlour he was taken to after waking Frank. Augusta, Neville and Harry followed him there.