Added a whole chapter in the end of the current one (making it two chaps in one) for the unopened will arc.
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By the time Harry had made his way back to the humongous room, Salazar had already started working.
Harry's whole body was shining from the shower afterglow.
"Have you started working on the ritual then?" he asked, prompting the map to look up from the books under his portrait.
Harry was wearing some simple black shorts, forgoing a shirt, and had a white towel around his neck. It was left there after a half-hearted attempt at drying the bird nest he called hair.
"Yes," he simply answered, rolling his eyes while also not bothering to hide his annoyance at Harry's excellent plan.
"Sigh. If you have any better ideas, I'm all ears," Harry shot, not expecting the man to talk.
Salazar didn't disappoint as he let out a simple huff and continued to float the books around him.
"I never did come around to asking but considering I might not have another chance to do so, how the hell do you use magic? Aren't you a regular good ol' portrait?" Harry asked curiously.
He was pretty sure he knew the answer to his question since he knew of something that made Salazar different from a normal magical portrait.
"Finally thought to ask eh? If you simply used your mind, you might have found out… Remember how I mentioned that I tied my portrait to Asmodeus instead of a magical object such as Hogwarts? I didn't do that out of some sort of sentimentality, I'm not stupid, or I wasn't stupid to be exact. All you have to know is that the bond between a portrait and a magical creature isn't the same as the one with a magical object. We've not gone far into your enchantment studies, something I sincerely hope you'll change, so I will spare you the details."
'I was right then, good to know,' Harry mused.
"You didn't have to be a dick though, you know?" he said.
"Believe me, I'm not treating you any less than what you deserve," muttered Salazar wisely.
"Sure, if you think so… Do you want any help with the books? Won't using magic to levitate stuff around, make you go poof sooner?" Harry asked sarcastically.
"Fret not, Harry. My portrait's magic doesn't work as one might expect, so no, I won't go poof any sooner than I'm supposed to," he drawled, throwing a quick glare at Harry before focusing back on his work.
"In a week's time then, right?"
Any previous emotion had disappeared from Harry's face, as it now sported his quickly becoming, signature, ice mask.
"That's quite good control of your emotions," Salazar commented without looking away from a parchment that had a familiar dragon's sketch drawn on it.
"You didn't even glance at me."
"No, but I heard you. Your voice was as steady as a calm lake, it didn't quiver even once, and to answer your question, yes I would have been gone by the next weekend," he simply stated, as if unbothered by his nearing demise.
"What do you mean 'would have been'? Has something changed?" Harry wondered hopefully.
"Yes, you have yourself to thank for that… I don't plan on outliving you, that's why I'll perform a minor ritual on myself tomorrow, giving you one more contingency. I'll go poof tomorrow," he stated humorlessly.
'Damn, I feel like a spoilt and ungrateful brat now…'
[BREAK]
Harry woke up with a start.
'Today's the day then, huh?'
In a few hours, he would be fighting to the death against the terrifying dragon he had seen two days prior…
He swiftly made his way off the bed and into the bathroom to take care of his morning rituals.
As he was brushing his teeth, Ash sneaked into the room and made his way onto his arm.
"Morning," he hissed.
'Good morning,' Harry said back through their bond.
Who would have guessed that the ability to talk through a bond would be a damn lifesaver while brushing one's teeth…
"How are you feeling? Are you getting cold feet yet?"
Ash, like Salazar, didn't appear to be a fan of Harry's plan.
'I'm feeling excellent, in case you can't tell. Also, since you'll come with me, we can talk about who has cold feet later, or scales in your case,' he barbed without missing a beat.
When Harry had finally made his way to Salazar's not-so-small chamber, Ash was coiled around his neck.
He didn't seem too pleased…
"Morning, Sal. Is everything ready and what the hell, are you okay?" he asked, concern creeping into his tone.
Salazar Slytherin's portrait self was looking extremely tired.
'Can portraits even get tired or is it another display of Sal's distinctiveness?' he mused. 'Probably the latter.'
His once lively eyes seemed like they were barely being kept open and he also sported dark circles under them.
"My well-being won't matter for long now… Everything's good to go. The ritual, together with all its instructions, is on the main table. Let's say that if your brainwave succeeds, the results of the ritual would boggle your mind… There's only one thing left and that's for me to perform the ritual I mentioned yesterday," Salazar said and despite his appearance and condition, he managed to sound excited while talking about the new ritual he devised.
'An abyssal reaver, slain and claimed by magic, true phoenix tears, a thousand-year-old basilisk's venom and a Dark Lord's soul piece. Harry's also a Peverell... I wonder if there was ever a ritual designed with a bigger potential than this one. How I wish I was able to see the result of this whole ordeal and Harry's happily ever after. I'm sure the lad will survive, he's of my blood after all, and shine brighter than any before him…'
"What's your ritual going to do?" Harry asked curiously. The older man had stubbornly kept shut about it.
"It'll briefly gift you my ability of the Dragon tongue, long enough to cast a spell or maybe even two, depending on your choices. If the situation goes bad, it'll surely be enough to catch the dragon off guard and maybe even cause a serious blow."
Harry stilled.
He had read about the legendary tongue of the dragons in Salazar's books, where he mentioned that just like parseltongue, the dragon tongue was a magical language. However, despite Salazar's numerous attempts, he never managed to make it a genetic trait as his other infamous ability.
Harry's thoughts, allowed by his skill in occlumency, went back to the first time he found a mention of the feared language.
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'The dragon tongue, like parseltongue, is intrinsic to a speaker's very being. That is not where their familiarities end though as any child of mine who is able to converse with snakes will also be able to converse with dragons. Do not be foolish to think that the mentioned child will be speaking the tongue of the dragons, no! While the two languages may share the same dialect, they couldn't have been any different. Their difference lies in their very essence as the two magical languages, simply work based on different natures of magic. It is also needless to mention which one is the most powerful as dragons are generally much higher in the magical scale than snakes, thus making their tongue so much more potent.'
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Harry had learnt Salazar's books on dragon tongue by heart as they were that cool.
'I'll get a chance to finally cast the dragon spells I've been reading about!' he realised.
His previous attempts at casting the aforementioned spells were dull failures.
While he could pronounce the dragon spell chants correctly, just as Salazar had said, nothing would happen. There wouldn't even be any sparks.
He was moving towards Salazar's portrait to kiss him, again…
"Stop. I don't want any more kisses," the man threatened, and in the face of danger, his energy seemed to come back, making Harry stop in his tracks.
Harry, in a previous show of excitement, had smooched the elder man's portrait. Needless to say, Salazar wasn't impressed with the action and Harry had once again found himself in very close contact with a chair.
"Did you get the calamitas solution?" Salazar inquired.
Harry nodded as he reached into his pocket and took out a vial that stored a grey and somewhat transparent liquid inside it.
"Shall we start this then?" asked the Hogwarts founder.
Harry, once again nodded and moved onto the newly drawn circle in front of the portrait.
"I've got to say that I was surprised that you agreed to follow my plan. I thought that you'd try to make me follow a safer route," Harry said, keeping control of his emotions.
Those were the last moments he had with the man.
What was he supposed to say?
"Well, that was my initial reaction. I was going to try and do just that but then I remembered something. Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far can they go," he simply stated with a smile before starting to chant in a long-since-forgotten language.
Harry simply stared at the man as he went on with the ritual, sacrificing what little time he had left for a kid he didn't even know a month ago.
After a few minutes, the previously erratic magic started settling down together with Salazar's quietening chants.
"It is done. It was my utmost pleasure getting to know you, Harry. You've grown into a fine young man in our short time together. If you will do foolish things, remember to do them with enthusiasm!" he remarked with a sad smile.
A tear escaped Salazar's left eye and as it slowly moved down, it eventually froze.
"Sal?"
The elder man didn't answer.
He couldn't answer.
'He's a simple, mundane portrait now.'
Harry's tight control of his emotions waned as the situation dawned on him.
'I'm alone again,' he thought as tears fell from his eyes.
"Don't be ssstupid, you have me!" came a hiss from behind him.
Ash, who had left Harry's body during the ritual to not cause any mishaps, quickly slithered on his bonder, trying to provide whatever comfort he could.
'Ignore that barely overgrown lizard. You have me,' came another voice. Its tone was kind, devoid of any maliciousness, and old.
Fawkes appeared with a flash and flew right on Harry's head before letting out a mournful trill.
[BREAK] (Added on 16/01/25 for the new 'unopened wills' plot arc)
Fawkes's trill rang in Harry's ears a mere second before the world faded into brilliant gold light.
He stumbled, blinking away the sudden brightness, and when his vision cleared, he found himself standing on the bustling white steps of Gringotts Wizarding Bank.
The stately, towering marble columns rose on either side of its massive doors, and the streets of Diagon Alley were just beyond the wide flight of stairs.
"Bloody hell," Harry mumbled under his breath, not used to the fiery transitions that came whenever Fawkes flashed around.
Speaking of the fiery avian, it was currently perched regally on Harry's shoulder, the phoenix's feathers gleaming under the morning sun.
Pushing down his exasperation, Harry paused to recall Gornuk's letter, his "family bank manager," and the startling revelations about his parents' wills.
If it weren't for the Tri-Wizard Tournament and its blasted timing, he'd have come here much sooner.
He started up the steps, ignoring the quizzical looks from several witches and wizards who wondered what a teenage boy—with a phoenix—was doing sauntering into Gringotts so confidently.
In truth, Harry felt anything but confident and his stomach churned with unresolved anger and bitter questions.
'Dumbledore suppressed my parents' wills? And the Dursleys… could I really have lived with someone else all those years?'
He shook off the swirling thoughts as he approached the burnished bronze doors.
Fawkes emitted a soft, consoling trill, causing Harry to relax slightly.
The scene before him matched exactly the one he'd seen just before starting his first year at Hogwarts.
Gringotts's grand entrance hall loomed before Harry, filled with the echo of tapping quills and the clatter of scales.
Goblins scurried behind raised counters, weighing coins or stamping ledgers.
Spotting an official-looking goblin stationed at a tall podium, Harry stepped forward.
"I'm here to see Gornuk," he announced, his voice subdued yet firm.
The goblin eyed Fawkes with a passing flicker of interest before jerking its pointed chin down a corridor.
"Vault Manager Gornuk's office—third door on the left."
Harry obliged, passing under chandeliers of glittering crystal and past tall, severe-faced goblins who eyed him warily.
He finally reached the office marked with a small bronze plaque reading Gornuk—Potter Estate.
He rapped on the door with three sharp knocks.
"Come in," a raspy voice commanded from within.
Stepping inside, Harry found a dim, neat office with tall shelves stuffed with ledgers, ancient tomes, and scrolls.
A squat goblin with narrow, calculating eyes sat at a mahogany desk.
He peered at Harry over a pair of spectacles.
"Mr. Potter," Gornuk greeted, inclining his head. "I see you received my letter."
"I did," Harry said and nodded curtly. "I—uh—wanted to discuss my parents' wills."
Fawkes let out a low coo, drawing Gornuk's curious stare which quickly shifted back to business.
"So you finally come to hear the reading."
He pulled open a drawer and extracted two sealed envelopes adorned with the Potter crest.
"We at Gringotts have long awaited your decision to have these wills properly opened. However, certain… complications arose."
"Because of Dumbledore," Harry interrupted, trying to keep his temper in check.
"He was the person everyone looked up to during the last war and that allowed him to do whatever he wanted unquestioned—like bury my parents' wills for all these years."
Gornuk inclined his head in agreement.
"Indeed. His instructions prevented us from processing them. But with your… emancipation through the Tri-Wizard Tournament, you now hold the right to open them if you so desire."
Harry clenched his fists by his sides.
'What if the Goblet hadn't spat out my name? How long would I have stayed in the dark about all this?'
"Right," Harry muttered, eyeing the seals on both envelopes.
The restlessness in his chest flared.
"Let's do it."
Gornuk carefully slid each envelope across the desk.
As soon as Harry touched them, both came unsealed with a subtle pulse of magic.
Fawkes gave a soft, encouraging trill, and Harry inhaled shakily…
Taking one in his hands, he found it was his mother's.
Her handwriting was neat and slender, the lines full of love and sadness.
'Grow strong and kind, my little Harry… we love you so much.'
A lump formed in Harry's throat as he skimmed through the letter again.
She named Sirius Black as his intended guardian if anything should befall her and James—except that clearly never happened.
Dumbledore saw to that, Harry thought bitterly.
He pictured how different life might have been if he had grown up under Sirius's care, away from the Dursleys' constant abuse and disdain.
Then came James Potter's will, similarly heartfelt, with a few comedic jabs about not letting "Moony" and "Padfoot" spoil Harry rotten.
'If only he knew…'
Harry exhaled unsteadily, pressing the edges of the documents down to keep his hands from shaking.
Gornuk gazed at Harry, unblinking.
"It is as you see. Albus Dumbledore's decision took precedence over these documents, at least in the eyes of the Ministry and the magical society at that time. We goblins… do not interfere in wizarding politics unless it affects the handling of vaults."
Harry tightened his jaw.
"So, I spent ten years locked in a cupboard, starved, screamed at…"
A swirl of emotions—anger, regret, sorrow—nearly choked him.
'The Dursleys never wanted me, and my parents planned for me never to be with them. This was never supposed to happen.'
He set the parchment aside. "So, what changes now?"
Gornuk cleared his throat.
"According to goblin law, even though you are emancipated under wizard rules due to your status as a Tri-Wizard Champion, you cannot fully access the Potter family vaults until you reach your seventeenth birthday."
"What?" Harry shot upright, outrage flaring in his eyes. "But I'm legally an adult in wizarding terms—your letter even said so!"
Gornuk regarded Harry with a carefully measured look. "Emancipation may remove the restrictions from the Ministry's perspective, but Gringotts adheres to the goblin code. Certain hereditary vaults cannot be touched until the depositor comes of age by both wizard and goblin standards. The Potter main vault is one such vault."
Harry's frustration spiked.
He had come expecting to finally claim something of his parents' legacy.
But now, after all these years, another bureaucratic barrier reared its ugly head.
"So," he said through gritted teeth, "I can't do anything with the main vault. Nothing at all?"
Gornuk shook his head. "I'm afraid not. You have the trust vault at your disposal, as you have since you started at Hogwarts. That will suffice for day-to-day or even more considerable expenses. But the full estate—properties and heirlooms—remains locked until your seventeenth birthday. And no influence from humans or wizards can override goblin law in this matter."
Harry closed his eyes, trying not to let anger consume him.
Slowly, he inhaled, counting to five.
Fawkes's gentle weight on his shoulder felt like an anchor.
"Fine," he managed, voice tight. "I understand."
The goblin nodded, as though ticking a box in his mind. "I expected you might be displeased. But it is not the first time a young heir has had to wait, nor will it be the last."
He pushed a thick ledger forward. "If you wish, you may sign here to officially confirm you've opened and read the wills. They'll be filed into the Potter estate records. That's all we can do at present."
Harry dipped a quill into a pot of ink and stopped.
"Wait," Harry said, his voice steady. "The wills mentioned properties. Even if I can't access them yet, could you at least tell me what they are? What will I inherit when I turn seventeen?"
Gornuk flashed him a smirk and adjusted his spectacles, rifling through the ledger. "The Potter estate includes the ancestral manor in Godric's Hollow—though it requires extensive restoration—a summer cottage in Wales, and a townhouse here, in the Diagon Alley. There are also several parcels of land throughout Britain, though their exact locations will need to be verified when you come of age."
Harry absorbed the information, letting it sink in slowly.
Properties.
Real homes that had belonged to his family.
Places where his parents might have walked and lived…
The thought of the manor in Godric's Hollow brought a pang of nostalgia and sorrow, but he suppressed it.
He glanced at Gornuk, who was now meticulously noting the details of their conversation in a thick ledger.
'If Dumbledore learns that I've officially read my parents' wills, it could lead to unwanted complications. I don't need him monitoring my every move,' Harry thought, his unease growing.
"Mr. Gornuk. I'd rather not sign it right now," Harry decided, his voice firm. "It could affect my standing with Dumbledore."
Gornuk raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting this response. "Are you refusing to sign, Mr. Potter?"
Harry met the goblin's gaze. "Yes. Who knows what else can the headmaster do?"
The goblin smiled sadly at that response. "Very well. You may choose not to sign at this time. Should you decide to formalise the reading, the records will be updated accordingly."
Harry nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension.
"Thank you, Gornuk," he said, managing a tight smile. "For everything."
With that, Harry made his way out of Gringotts.
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