Complete silence.
It was the sound that Harry awoke to on the 10th week back at Number 4, Privet Drive. Fortunately, it also marked the last day he would be spending with the Dursleys; Ron had sent him a letter a few days ago, informing him that the Weasley family would be coming to pick him up on Sunday. That was tomorrow, and Harry couldn't help but feel excited.
After putting on his glasses Harry checked the clock that hung on the wall opposite from him, which read the time to be half past five in the morning. Outside his window he saw nothing but darkness, confirming the given time. It was a good thing it was so early, as he had much that he hoped to do today.
He quickly rolled out of his slightly broken bed, and selected some muggle clothing, as well as wizarding robes for the day. He was intending to visit Diagon Alley, taking advice from a book he had re-read, as well as a letter from his godfather.
While skimming through 'Hogwarts: A History' during the start of the summer, it had suddenly dawned on Harry that he was the sole remaining Potter. He didn't know much about wizarding politics, having been raised by muggles, but he was fairly certain that made him the heir to the family fortune.
The book mentioned many things involving the politics engaged in by many Hogwarts alumni, and yet, for some reason, Harry had not heard a word of it before. The whole affair had seemed like a rather big deal to Harry, and so he drafted up a letter to send for advice.
The letter had initially been intended for Dumbledore, but Harry had decided against it; Harry was still rather ticked off from the decision Dumbledore had made at the end of his previous school year, and even though the wiser part of him knew that the headmaster would likely provide sound advice, the rest of him was feeling rather bitter at the moment.
Regardless, Harry had ended up addressing the letter to Sirius. That had been a little longer than a month ago, and Harry had only just gotten a reply from his godfather.
The letter had come with a rather large tropical bird just last evening. Upon first reading it, Harry thought his godfather had been out of his mind, but the more he thought about, the more he agreed that for once it could be a rather enjoyable and useful adventure, and likely one that wouldn't culminate with him spending a significant amount of time in the hospital wing.
Harry picked up the letter from his bedside table (if one could call it that), reading it over as he tip-toed out the door of his room.
'Dear Harry,
I wanted to thank you, once again, for trusting in me last month by the lake. I've been abroad, as you may have guessed by the bird that sent this, so no harm done. Don't worry, they won't be finding me anytime soon. I've made sure to be spotted a few times in a different continent, so the ministry gets rid of the dementors. It's a school, not a prison. I don't know what they're playing at, although I can't exactly say the ministry is made up of the intelligent bunch.
But more importantly Harry, I've been doing research into what might help you. Most of it is what I remember off the top of my head (as you might remember, I happen to be the most wanted wizard in the world at the moment), but I like to think that it is still relevant information.
Go to Gringotts soon after you get this letter. Before you start cursing me, hear me out. You're the only Potter left, making you the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter. You need to register yourself as the heir, and get the key. You probably won't even be able to use it. You won't be able to claim lordship as you aren't yet emancipated, but it is still very important to claim heirship.
I've also had you listed as my heir for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Keep that one quiet Harry, as it could get you in hot water if people found out. The main reason Lucius Malfoy married my cousin Cissy in the first place was so he could have a shot at the Black fortune. Let's just say the fortune makes that of the Malfoys look like a few spare knuts. Alright, so maybe that isn't entirely true, but the Blacks definitely have more money than the Malfoys. Draco Malfoy is the heir presumptive to the House of Black, and considering that my brother, myself, as well as Bellatrix and Andromeda (Narcissa's older sisters) are all out of line for one reason or another, he thinks Draco is the current heir.
You've got a good shot at the Black Fortune, however. Your grandmother on your father's side is my Grandfather's sister; it's one of the reasons James and I got along so well. That, and you being my godson should be more than enough to claim heirship, but there still is the off chance.
Be wary of who you tell about these heirships. Being the heir doesn't actually mean anything, as you can't access anything. But it does mean that when you are emancipated you become lord, and that nobody can contest you claim. Many people, though Lucius in particular, will do whatever they can to get their hands on one of the biggest fortunes of the magical world.
Take an abilities test too. It's very useful, as you might learn of some rather unique gifts you have. It's fairly rare, but there's always a chance. I heard my cousin Tonks ended up learning she was a Metamorphmagus from the test, so there's obviously a chance.
I heard you were a Parselmouth too, so if you have that, maybe you might have a few more. Ask about that one in particular, Harry. From what my mother told me when I was younger (a lot of nasty things that I mostly don't need to repeat, seeing as myself and your father were right prats when we were younger), Parseltongue is a gift only held by the descendants of Slytherin. My mother would probably be bowing down at your feet, she'd be absolutely scandalized to hear you're a half-blood.
Work hard on your magic, and learn enough to protect yourself. This is the best I can do for now, but I promise to help with what I can.
Keep in touch, Harry.
- Snuffles'
Harry pocketed the letter in one swift movement. This letter was rather different than the two Sirius had sent prior, distinctly lacking the touch of humor that the others had held. He was right, however, and Harry couldn't help but agree with his way of thinking. His clothing in hand, Harry snuck down to the bathroom furthest from the Dursley's bedrooms, taking a quick (and quiet) shower.
He quickly dried and dressed himself, his ears strained to catch any hint of the Dursley's awaking. If he managed to get out of the house, it would be very unlikely that they would realize he left. As far as the Dursley's knew, Harry had been locked in his room for the entire summer. Harry vastly preferred this punishment to the infinite list of chores he had commonly been forced to do when younger. The Dursley's were happy because they didn't have to deal with the freak, and they got to starve him (he only got about a meal a day, perhaps two if he was lucky).
As for Harry, he was happy because he had gotten Fred and George to teach him the pin trick they had used to get his belongings two years prior. If the Dursleys had bothered to check the cupboard under the stairs, they would be shocked to find that his wand, books, Invisibility Cloak, parchment, and ink had all mysteriously vanished. As for the food, Harry was easily capable of stealing a few rations from the fridge every time the Dursleys left the house.
Harry quickly checked in the mirror before walking out of the bathroom. It seemed as though the starvation was finally beginning to catch up with him. Before the summer, he had finally been very similar to his dormmates in terms of health.
He had managed to grow over this summer, although his skin looked slightly paler than usual, and his eyes were slightly sunken. His height had increased by a few inches over the summer, making him one of the taller students in his year (although not tall enough to match his redheaded friend, Ron Weasley). He was very grateful for that, as it was more than a little annoying to look up at any of his friends when they spoke.
Harry also felt that he had become slightly more attractive over the summer (though he would never say it aloud). His features had become more defined in a way much more similar to his mother than his father. Harry was thankful for that; he no longer looked like a carbon copy of his father, and now held a clear resemblance to his mother. It wasn't much of a difference, but to Harry it made all the difference in the world.
Thankfully, his health decrease wasn't nearly as bad as it was in the previous two summers. Harry suspected his fortunate health had more to do with the monthly food slips that Sirius, Mrs. Weasley, and Hagrid had sent him (as well as the rations from the fridge) rather than the Dursley's Daily Food Donations, as Aunt Petunia called them, that he received once a day through the cat slip of his door.
Harry was more than a little put out that neither Hermione nor Ron had sent him anything for his birthday this year. Although it was true that he was receiving daily food supplies from Mrs. Weasley as well, Harry didn't think that really counted.
The young Potter heir quietly snuck back up the stairs, skipping the first step so as to avoid making a sound. Continuing down the hallway, he eventually reached his next destination: Dudley's bedroom.
Harry had carefully thought through how he wished to arrive at Gringotts, and then Diagon Alley. He had first thought of flying there on his firebolt while under the Invisibility Cloak. But the moment he had voiced the idea out loud, he instantly quieted himself. Ron was the moronic one in the group, not him.
He had also thought about asking Dumbledore to take him, but that too was dropped the moment he said it aloud. He had been asking Dumbledore at the end of every school year to let him stay at Hogwarts, to let him not return to the horrible care of the Dursleys. Each and every time, Dumbledore gave him a firm no, stating that it was for his betterment. Each year Harry decided not to pressure the headmaster; it was clear that Dumbledore would request he return to the Dursleys. Besides, Harry assumed it was likely not within Dumbledore's power to allow him to stay at Hogwarts over the summer.
After getting tired of having to ask Hermione for everything concerning Hogwarts, he gave 'Hogwarts: A History' a read (if only to appease her). Upon arriving at chapter forty-seven, titled 'Hogwarts During the Summer', he quickly learned it was morethan within the power of the Headmaster to allow students to stay over the summer. Harry still had the excerpt crinkled up in his pocket, tear marks indicating where he had ripped it from the textbook. He had taken to carrying it with him, a sort of bitter reminder for himself.
' - during the end of the seventeenth century (around 1692), witch burnings were an activity often practiced by muggles. They had been practiced since the beginning of Hogwarts' history, but never to such a large degree.
Although they never actually managed to burn a true witch or wizard (relatively basic spells allowed a magical to withstand the heat of muggle fires), they did manage to get a fair amount of wizarding children, who were unable to protect themselves. As such, the ministry (specifically Hogwarts' Board of Governors) allowed students the right to remain at Hogwarts during the summer if they felt the need to protect themselves.
This rule is still in place today, although rather than needing the approval of the Board of Governors (which would be a rather lengthy process), you simply need approval from the Headmaster or Headmistress of the school. Due to this being an issue of student safety, this only requires the approval of the Headmaster/Headmistress, and nothing from the Board of Governors, or anyone else. If a student is incapable of procuring permission from the Headmaster or Headmistress, they will not be allowed to stay, regardless of what anyone else - '
It was rather irritating to find out that Dumbledore had the power to help him, and still did nothing. To be fair, Dumbledore had not denied that it was out of his power, and even said that it was for Harry's betterment. Regardless, Harry was rather annoyed that Dumbledore could have potentially had Harry stay somewhere else, and still sent him to the Dursleys. He was beginning to understand why the Tom Marvolo Riddle of the diary had been so untrusting of Dumbledore. Of course, not to the same extent as Riddle had, but he wasn't nearly as blind to the headmaster's failings now as he was a few months prior.
Harry quickly stepped into the youngest Dursley's bedroom, looking around. It was a mess; clothes were thrown across the room, toys littered the floor, drawers were wide open. In the center of the room lay Dudley Dursley. Even while sleeping his resemblance to a swine remained, possibly even more than while awake; Harry couldn't help but compare Dudley's snores to the squeals of a dying pig.
Harry searched around the room, his eyes finally landing on a small box ten minutes later. It was the box Dudley had been using to store the money he stole from his father's wallet. Why he stole the cash, Harry would never know. He simply had to look at something and his mummy and daddy would buy it for their precious Diddykins. Harry opened the box slowly and took out the bills. There were around seventy to eighty bills, totaling up around five thousand pounds. Harry quietly swiped 5 hundred pound notes, as well as 5 twenties.
It's more than fair.
Harry had always known when Dudley had been stealing money from Uncle Vernon; it was always around the same time he got locked in his cupboard for thievery by his uncle and aunt. He suspected that they both knew it had been Dudley, but they wouldn't let that stop them from punishing the Harry. Harry quickly felt rage build up in his mind, caused by the unfairness of it all.
Boom.
Harry once again cursed his luck, turning around to see if Dudley had been awakened by the noise. It has been a clap of thunder, something that for some reason occurred every few weeks at Privet Drive; it was made particularly strange due to the fact that it was currently summer.
Aunt Petunia had informed him, with the usual snobbish air, that it was merely the weather releasing its frustration that there was a freak in their lovely town. He responded by asking his dear aunt whether she thought he might be able to get the lightning to smite her using his freakish powers. As far as he knew, that wasn't possible, but there was no need to tell her that. He hadn't received food for half a week after that comment.
It wasn't the only strange occurrence that had occurred in Privet Drive, and that was likely the reason his Aunt Petunia had believed him. Over the last few years, there has been rain, thunder, lightning, snow, and much more at the most unexpected of times. Even disregarding the weather, there had been other strange occurrences at Number 4, Privet Drive, but Harry knew that to be his magic occasionally acting up in fits of accidental magic.
Thankfully, Harry's whale of a cousin still lay asleep in his bed, undisturbed by the thunder. Considering the loudness of his snoring, Harry wasn't entirely surprised. Pocketing the money, Harry quickly made his way back to his room. From there, he took his Invisibility Cloak and wand, both of which would be useful when arrived in Diagon Alley.
He had already let Hedwig out last night, telling her to fly off to the Burrow where he would see her tomorrow. It had taken half an hour of convincing before he had gotten her to go, although she hadn't left without nibbling his ears affectionately.
During the summer, Harry had been allowed to keep Hedwig in his room without a cage. It was mainly because Harry had pointed out that the neighbors might get suspicious if his owl suddenly started hooting non-stop (as Hedwig frequently hooted in annoyance at being forced into a cage). It had been a great summer of bonding between the two of them, as Hedwig had barely left his side during the summer, with the obvious exception being when she had to send letters.
His plan on arriving at the Leaky Cauldron was rather simple. He knew the street that the pub was located, having accidentally memorized it due to staying there for weeks last summer. It had been on a busy muggle street called Charing Cross Road, although the part that the Leaky Cauldron was in was covered from top to bottom with Muggle Repelling Wards, as well as Notice-Me-Not charms that had been adapted to only affect muggles. Harry had learnt this from Tom, the barman of the Leaky Cauldron, and was planning on using the information today.
He couldn't take the Knight Bus, as Stan Shunpike had a hard time keeping his mouth shut. There was no adult that Harry knew that would allow him to go (except for Sirius, who was quite likely on the other side of the earth at the moment), so that was out of question as well. Therefore, Harry had decided that he would use the London Underground Subway as means of transportation. It might not be as fast as the Knight Bus, but it was nothing to scoff at, especially considering it was made without the use of magic.
Harry made his way out of the house with one of his school bags, which contained his cloak, robes, and some food he had pilfered from the Dursley's refrigerator. In his right hand he held his wand, which was concealed by his sleeve. In his pocket, he had the six hundred pounds he had stolen from Dudley.
Truthfully he had no clue what the rate for the subway was, having only ever been on it once before. That had been with Hagrid, who had shoved more than a hundred pounds into the coin slot in an attempt to get the two of them through the bars and onto the subway. He hadn't bothered to take the bills that remained in the coin slot, telling him that it had only been a few galleons.
Harry really hoped he wouldn't be seen by any of the muggles nearby; they still thought he was a delinquent, thanks to the Dursleys.
After twenty minutes of walking in the direction of the station, Harry had arrived. As it turned out, it only cost five pounds to ride the subway. This was more of a gain than a loss, considering that it meant Harry had a lot more money.
The ride to Charing Cross was a long yet entertaining one. Many of the muggles Harry saw were among the strangest he had ever met (though Harry personally believed most of the wizards he had met to be much more peculiar). In the center of the train he was on, two muggle men were having a sort of fist fight over an attractive blonde woman, which was entertaining to say the least. Particularly when the woman slipped out at one of the stations without either of the men noticing.
An hour and a half later, Harry stepped out of the subway and went up to the surface street. According to the directory he had seen when he had exited the subway, Charing Cross Road was only two blocks away from where he was now. Sure enough, he spotted the dusty wooden sign of the Leaky Cauldron just ten minutes later, sticking out amongst the colourful and bright muggle signs.
Harry stood directly in front of the pub door and turned around, looking at the people nearest him on the street. He noticed that the people who were looking at the shops all did the same thing. When they scanned the stores, their eyes seemed to almost skip the Leaky Cauldron, including Harry. Grinning to himself, Harry placed his bag on the floor and pulled out his Invisibility Cloak, before covering himself with it. Now unseen, Harry opened the pub door and walked inside.
It took Harry a moment to remember that doors typically didn't open themselves, causing his skin to pale slightly under his cloak. Thankfully, most of the wizarding world consisted of stranger things, and so his slip up went unnoticed. Harry quickly made his way to the other side of the pub, slipping through the door after a large group of teen witches and wizards a year or two older than himself. They had swung the door open to enter Diagon Alley, laughing at something one of them had said.
Harry grimaced when he saw their faces recognized them. They were a group of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, all of whom had made fun of him during his second year during the Chamber of Secrets debacle. He didn't like them very much, they were part of the reason he had constantly had to replace his belongings during that year. How they had managed to enter the Gryffindor common room, Harry didn't know. He was fairly certain, however, they hadn't used Polyjuice Potion.
As the group parted the brick entrance to Diagon Alley, Harry sent a whispered wide area stinging charm at them. Thanks to finally reading 'Hogwarts: A History', he had finally learned how to use his wand without getting in trouble with the Ministry of Magic.
According to the book, each wand sold in Diagon Alley had a trace issued upon it, which lasted until it's master's 17th birthday. All the trace did was tell the ministry where the underage magic was used, not by who. As long as Harry was not near Privet Drive, he would be fine.
Harry had also learnt that house elves were commonly sent in the 1800s to use magic in muggle born households, as they were capable of triggering the trace of a wand by using magic nearby. Harry was more than slightly agitated to read that it had become considered 'a common game played by pureblood witches and wizards during the summer months', as stated in the book.
Fortunately, that had been dealt with decades ago, and the punishment for doing such a thing was now quite severe. The only reasons he hadn't tried to sue the Malfoys upon hearing that was because Dobby had triggered the trace without being told to by the Malfoys, and because Harry was rather fond of the elf.
Ignoring the gasps of surprise and indignation issued by the group, Harry walked around them and towards Gringotts. Within a few minutes he realized that it was not the best idea to attempt walking through a crowd while invisible.
After arriving within a few shops of the Wizarding Bank, Harry ducked into a corner where he could not be seen, before pulling off the cloak and putting on his robes, being sure to cover his face so as to not attract attention.
Once done, he walked up the steps of the Gringotts bank, and through the large marble doors, which magically opened upon approaching them. Refraining from looking around at the beautiful structure, Harry made his way to the only goblin teller not helping someone, who happened to be sitting at the station in the very center of the hall. The goblin looked up from the parchment he had been reading a few moments prior.
"Name?" asked the goblin roughly, not bothering to hide his annoyance.
Harry tried and failed not to squirm under the goblins glare.
"Harry Potter." replied Harry nervously, watching as the goblin's eyes widen slightly, before performing the all to familiar flick up to his scar. The goblin's eyes narrowed as he observed Harry.
"And where, Mr. Potter, is your vault key?"
Harry was internally panicking. How could he have been so stupid as to forget he didn't have his key? The goblins seem to know what was going on in his head, as he stepped down from his seat, and opened the door separating the customer from the teller. The two of them walked out of the room through an elegant hallway that was right behind the center goblin teller station.
They continued to walk through the ornate hallway, passing several closed doors, each labelled 'Client Meeting Room'. Eventually, they arrived at a room that was not in use, and the goblin entered the room, motioning for Harry to follow.
The room walls were made of a beautiful marble design similar to that of the main hall. There was a large desk of high quality oak, which had a large wooden chair situated behind it. In front of the desk were two armchairs. Harry sat in the armchair closer to the door, while the goblin sat in the wooden chair opposite him.
In the back of the room was a large sign, encased in what appeared to be a rather expensive frame. Harry didn't waste time reading it, merely scanning it over. It mentioned something about memory removal, which didn't surprise him. A few years ago, Arthur Weasley had mentioned that the goblins of Gringotts were required by law to remove any memories pertaining to heirships, abilities, or any other form or personal affair (unless they were the vault manager of the family in question).
"My name is Bogrod. I am the head teller for Gringotts Bank. I am not all too surprised that you do not have your key, although it should be in your possession. I will be testing your identity, and after that, I am assuming you wish to make heirship claims?"
"That, as well as an abilities test, please." said Harry. Bogrod nodded, before opening a drawer to his left, pulling out a blank piece of parchment that the Gringotts Seal at the top, as well as a silver knife. Bogrod placed them gently in front of Harry on the table.
"To confirm your identity, you must cut your finger and drop a single drop of blood onto the Gringotts Seal. Do not worry about the knife, it has a self healing charm that will come into effect once the blood has spilt." said Bogrod, before turning around and searching through some of the drawers.
Harry did as instructed, watching as the blood dripped onto the parchment. For a moment nothing happened, and Harry looked at Bogrod, confused. Bogrod, however, was pulling out two additional pieces of parchment from the drawers beside him. When he was satisfied with the two blank documents he had pulled up, he looked at the seal, and a moment later nodded. Harry looked down at the parchment, which now had writing written across it in pure black ink.
'Harry James Potter
Son of Lily Evans and James Potter'
Harry smiled at the names of his parents before looking up, watching as Bogrod placed the two new in front of him. They were identical to the first paper Bogrod had given him, although on one the seal was blue, while the other was yellow.
"The blue sheet is your abilities sheet. It will show any rare abilities you have as you may have guessed. The yellow sheet is your heirship sheet. It will show the names of each house you can attempt to claim.
After we see which houses they are, we will bring the rings, which will judge your worth. If they accept you, you become the heir. You will not be allowed to keep the rings until you are an adult, and you will not be allowed access to any vaults except for the Potter Trust Vault. If the ring judges you worthy, you will switch from Heir Apparent to Heir. It simply means nobody can contest your heirship."
Harry nodded slowly before looking at the two sheets, still trying to comprehend what was going on. He grabbed both sheets, before pricking the end of his finger with the knife. A few moments after the blood had fallen upon both seals. Harry pulled the yellow sheet towards himself, while Bogrod took the blue.
'Harry James Potter Heirships:
Heir Apparent to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter*
Heir Presumptive to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
Heir Apparent to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Slytherin
*as the Heir Apparent to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter (the House with the greatest connection the the extinct Noble and Most Ancient House of Peverell), Harry James Potter is allowed access to the Peverell possessions stored within the Potter vault.'
Harry paled instantly as he read the sheet. Potter and Black were both fine. He didn't know what House Peverell meant, but it wasn't anything to complain about. Heir of Slytherin, however, was a completely different thing.
If the magical world found out that the Boy-Who-Lived, savior of the Wizarding World, was the heir of Slytherin, there would without a doubt be blood. He looked up at Bogrod, who was looking at Harry, his expression filled with intense curiosity and wonder, his face slightly pale.
Before Harry could ask what he was thinking, Bogrod had snatched the yellow sheet from his hands. If possible, Bogrod's expression had become even more intense. Without a word, the goblin handed over the abilities sheet to Harry, who quickly read it.
'Harry James Potter Abilities:
Partial Metamorphmagus
Parselmouth
Mage'
"Three different abilities?" asked Harry faintly, shocked. The first two he understood, to some extent. Being a Parselmouth was obvious. Metamorphmagus was less so, but he did recall seemingly regrowing his hair after Aunt Petunia had cut it in a particularly horrible style. The last, however, he knew little of.
It was true, one of the abilities was only partial, and as far as he knew the other ability was just a language, but he had still never heard of something before. He looked up at Bogrod, who was staring intently at him. The goblin took a few minutes before he found himself capable of replying.
"Truthfully, having that many abilities is not incredibly rare, although the abilities are typically much less impressive or rare. Powerful wizards tend to automatically develop the lowest tier abilities, but to be born with that many abilities is something, that is true. None of your abilities can be replicated, you are merely born with or without them, to my knowledge. So it is a nice addition, I suppose." said Bogrod. He shuffled the files between his hands, before looking back at Harry.
"Which do you wish to discuss first, heirships or your abilities?"
"Heirships, I suppose." said Harry. Bogrod nodded, pulling the yellow sheet towards him. He traced each of the house names with his finger, nodding all the while. When done, he looked up at Harry, and began to speak.
"Potter, of course, was obvious. You are the only Potter remaining, so even if the ring judges you unworthy of it, it will still claim you." That annoyed Harry slightly. It wouldn't be thrilling to know he got a Potter Ring simply because the ring had no choice.
"Never would I have ever guessed that you would have been eligible for Black Heirship. You are recognized as the godson of Sirius Orion Black, who was first in line for Heirship. He was deemed unworthy once he was sent to Azkaban. Since you were made godson before he went to Azkaban, you are still capable as an heir option." Harry nodded. He had figured that much from the letter that Sirius had sent him.
"After Sirius Black in line for Heirship would have been Regulus Arcturus Black, his younger brother. Unfortunately, the lad died just before you were born. That concludes the main line of the Blacks. Next would have been the sisters of the minor line, by age. As they are female, they can not claim the heirship, but any heir they might have can.
Bellatrix Lestrange née Black was first in line from that portion of the Black family, but like her cousin she was sent to Azkaban. Next is Andromeda Tonks née Black. She was cast out of the family. Unfortunately, she was cast out before her daughter Nymphodora Tonks was born, rendering her daughter incapable of an attempt at claiming the fortune, or ever becoming a true member of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. That leads to the youngest sister, Narcissa Malfoy née Black, and her son, Draco Malfoy."
Harry scowled. If there was one person that he had no problem stealing an Heirship from, it was Draco Malfoy. But he wasn't sure whether or not his claim on the fortune was stronger than Draco's.
"He is the son of the fifth Black in line. You are the godson of the first in line, as well as the grandson of a Black. Although it might sound like you have a lead, it is a very close race. You will have to test the ring. If it chooses you, then you are more worthy for the House, if not, it likely goes to young Mr. Malfoy."
Harry nodded, his hands clenched into fists under the desk. That was the Potters and the Blacks. Two down, two to go.
"There has not been anyone in the Potter family allowed access to the Peverell possessions in over several hundred years. It is a very famous name, as three Peverell brothers were known to have been those brothers from the famous wizarding Tale of the Three Brothers."
Harry's jaw fell open. He had heard the story from Mrs. Weasley while at the Burrow before his second year at Hogwarts. He had thought it had been an incredible tale, and found the wand, stone, and cloak all to be incredible objects.
"Wait a moment." said Harry, as something clicked in his mind. He moved faster than he had ever moved before, ripped his bag open and pulled out his Cloak of Invisibility. He placed the cloak in front of Bogrod, whose jaw dropped.
"This is the cloak." he said moments later, "I know it is. It's unlike any Invisibility Cloak I've ever seen before. How in Ragnuk's name do you have this, Wizard?" questioned Bogrod, eyes unmoving from Harry's face.
"It's a family heirloom, apparently." answered Harry. Bogrod nodded slowly, inspecting the cloak before handing it back to Harry.
"That makes sense. As I was about to tell you, the Potters are the main descending line of the Peverell's, just as the Gaunts were of Slytherin, before they died out, of course. Many Potters have tried to claim the possessions of the Peverells, just as the Gaunt's attempted to claim Heirship of Slytherin. Only three Potters have ever been deemed worthy for access to the Peverell possessions. No Gaunt has ever managed to claim the Slytherin Heirship, though I believe one, centuries ago, managed to gain access to Slytherin's possessions for a limited time."
Harry's eyes widened in shock; he had always assumed that Voldemort had managed to procure Lordship of Slytherin, but apparently not.
"This leads us to the last and final Heirship. Slytherin. I want you to be very calm before I reveal this to you, am I clear?" Harry nodded while shaking, silently praying that he wasn't really a descendant of Slytherin.
"You are, without a doubt, a full descendant of Slytherin."
Of course I am.
Harry's face paled drastically. He opened his mouth to speak but before he could say anything, Bogrod stopped him.
"From what we have here, the most likely situation is that your mother was a descendant of Slytherin as well. Considering she was considered to be muggleborn, she would have to be the descendant of a squib descendant of Slytherin. There is only one person who matches this description. Her name was Martha Steward, the daughter of Isolt Sayre." He paused, looking at Harry's face as if searching for a reaction.
"Er - is that supposed to mean something?" asked Harry, attempting to sound as polite as possible. Bogrod stared at him for a moment, before facepalming himself and muttering a few curses in Gobbledegook.
"She is one of the four founders of the American Wizarding School, Ilvermony, and arguably the most important of the four." The way Bogrod spoke suggested that he agreed with that argument, "But that is of little importance. If you are interested, you can do your own research on your family tree, as I may be incorrect. The point is, Lily Potter née Evans awoke the dormant magical blood within the line. She awoke the Slytherin line. You, being her son, are an acceptable heir. I am more than certain the ring will accept you as the heir."
Harry nodded, slowly processing what he had just been told.
"Wait a moment." he said, realizing something, "Wouldn't that mean that my mother was a Parselmouth too?"
Bogrod paused for a moment, before responding.
"Truthfully, I have no idea. Parseltongue is a hereditary ability, but not a guaranteed one; it is possible that she was simply one of the witches or wizards to have unfortunately not been granted the ability."
With that, Bogrod called upon the rings for the heirship claiming. Three beautiful rings appeared upon the table. Harry tried each of them in turn. The ruby Potter ring accepted him instantly, as expected. Harry was more than pleased when the platinum Black ring did the same. It was a shame that he couldn't tell anyone about all of this. He would have loved to see Draco's reaction.
The emerald Slytherin Lordship ring took the longest, but eventually it accepted him as well. A very pleased Harry turned to Bogrod, who was nodding slowly. He slowly took each of the rings off, watching as they vanished into thin air. He'd see them soon enough.
"So what does being the heir to a house mean?" asked Harry. He had a feeling he knew what it meant, but hoped he was wrong. Bogrod's snide smile did nothing to ease his fear.
"Practically nothing. It just means you are guaranteed lordship whenever the time comes, and that nobody can truly contest your claims unless the rings deem them more worthy, something highly unlikely once the ring has accepted someone. You might have a very limited amount of control over the Potter family, as you hold the Potter surname, but nothing more."
They decided to visit the Potter Trust Vault before talking about Harry's abilities. Bogrod said it would be best to save them for last, saying that he might find them to be particularly interesting. Although being the Heir to three of the Noble and Most Ancient houses meant he would never have to work a day in his life, until he claimed lordship he would simply have to survive on this. It wasn't like it was a small amount of money, but it was more than likely about a million times less in value than the rest of his wealth.
"Do you have your key?" asked the goblin as they approached the vault.
"Er - no. Hagrid had it last time, probably has it now."
The goblin shook his head in displeasure, staying silent for the remainder of the journey. Once they arrived at the vault, Bogrod performed some sort of complicated pattern across the vault keyhole, provided Harry with a knife, and told him to place a drop of blood onto a series of stones outside the vault.
A moment later, Harry's key appeared upon the stones. Bogrod explained that it was a method used by the goblins to recall lost keys belonging to a certain client. He also warned Harry not to lose his key again, as there would be a fine after the second time.
After collecting around a thousand galleons, he headed back up to the client conference rooms with Bogrod. Once there, he immediately proceeded to purchase a money bag directly connected to his vault, meaning that he would not have to come back nearly as often. It wasn't that he didn't want to return or anything, but . . . he just really didn't want to be here any more often than he had to.
"Lastly, your abilities." begun Bogrod, as the two of them took their seats, "A Metamorphmagus is someone who can change their appearance at will. All possible changes include hair colour and length, eye colour, height, width, skin tone, and facial features. A full and talented Metamorphmagus can even change their facial features to that of an animal, such as a bird's beak for a nose, or something similar. Gender can not be changed, no matter how talented. The ability is tied to the Black family, and is hereditary." Harry nodded in an attempt to show that he was paying attention.
"I was unaware that there was such a thing as a Partial Metamorphmagus." admitted the goblin, "It is clear that you are capable of changing your appearance, yet there is something unusual with the method you use. Unfortunately, you will have to do any further research on your own.
Nothing much needs to be said about Parselmouth. It is a language tied to the Slytherin family. As far as I know, it is a simple, as well as the most effective way to control any and all snakes. There may be more applications, but I would not know of them."
Harry wasn't all too surprised. He would most likely have to learn that one on his own. Even if it was really just a way to control snakes, it would still be incredibly useful. He would have to make sure not to let it go to waste.
"Now, dear wizard, lies the point of interest. Your last ability. Mage." he once again stared at Harry, waiting for a reaction that never came. The goblin sighed, before turning around and shuffling through a drawer labeled 'Abilities'. Pushing the drawer open, Harry leant to the side to see what was there. Five different files sat inside, the first file the biggest. The size of the files decreased respectively, to the point where Harry was sure that the last file had only a single page within it. The files in question were named respectively:
'Common Abilities'
'Uncommon Abilities'
'Rare Abilities'
'Extremely Rare Abilities'
'You-Definitely-Don't-Have-It Abilities'
To think he thought the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s were named strangely. Bogrod, much to Harry's surprise, opened the last file. It seemed as though Harry's guess was right. Only a single page sat inside the file, titled 'Mage'. Without waiting for the go ahead from Bogrod, Harry began to read the paper.
'The Mage ability is widely known by educated witches and wizards to be the rarest magical ability. It is one of few abilities that does not give descendants of a witch or wizard with the ability any (not even a slight) higher chance of receiving it, the other abilities sharing this trait being any form of elemental abilities and mage sight, both of which are among the four abilities classified as Extremely Rare abilities.
It is also among the only abilities that can not be partial that is also above the 'Rare Abilities' classification, the only other being the Parseltongue ability. Additionally, it is the only ability ranked as Tier 5 ('You-Definitely-Don't-Have-It Abilities').
Not much is known about the ability. The paragraphs below contain the known information of the ability.
A Mage, simply put, is a witch or wizard who can use wandless magic. Most witches and wizards are incapable of doing so, with only the most powerful being able to do such a thing (and even then, it is to a very small degree).
Side effects of the ability include potentially having a harder time to develop Occlumency shields. Why this is the case is unknown, but it has been noted that learning Occlumency makes one much more capable of easily tuning into their magic. It is likely the same for a Mage, which would mean that developing Occlumency could potentially make wandless magic much easier for a Mage to use.
Mage Magic, or heightened wandless magic, works differently from normal wizarding magic. Normal wizarding magic requires a wand, incantation, motion, visualization, and magical power. Wandless, however, requires intent, visualization, and magical power. This is how wandless magic works, for both Mages and immensely powerful witches and wizards.
The ability is extremely rare, with only six people ever being known to have the power. The most famous of the six was Morgana, who was supposedly hunted by Merlin because he felt she would abuse the power. She managed to kill Merlin with the ability, but was shortly killed herself by the Knights of the Round Table. She was 24 years old at the time.
It should also be noted that the ability is only truly dangerous in the hands of an impressively powerful witch or wizard. The other five people born with the ability were not particularly powerful. This power made them amongst the most well known magicals of their generations, but not enough to be considered as the most powerful magical of all time (as Morgana is argued to be).
It has been noticed that Mages seem to be particularly proficient with lightning, as well as other elemental magic. This is because elemental magic is known as tier one wandless magic. Tier two wandless magic includes summoning and banishing. This is the highest form of wandless magic ever achieved by someone who was not a Mage. Further tiers are not known, as they are yet to be studied.'
The lightning.
Harry remembered within the confines of his mind, thinking back to the thunder claps that seemed to occur in Surrey every now and then. Lightning was quite obviously an element, there was no way to convince himself otherwise. Harry continued to think back as well as worry about what this might mean, not speaking for several minutes. When he finally did, it was with a confused voice.
"What does this mean?" he asked. It was truly a valid question. He was already the Boy-Who-Lived; if the public caught wind of this, they would have a field day. He, however, had absolutely no idea what it meant. It certainly seemed brilliant to him, but a few years ago a simple levitation spell would have blown his mind.
"If I might make a suggestion," asked Bogrod, continuing when Harry nodded, "Do not tell anybody. You have many enemies, as you have no doubt realized by now."
Harry nodded once more; he had already realized that this might not be something he would be interested in sharing. He had, however, considered telling Ron and Hermione about it. He was sure the latter would have found it incredibly interesting.
Bogrod turned to pick up the copies of the abilities and heirship tests, placing them in the bin beside his desk, where they both vanished.
"As is standard, I will forfeit any and all memories pertaining to the events in this room." Bogrod explained, "It was a law made by pureblood families in order to preserve their secrets. The walls are charmed so that any and all events occurring within the room will be erased from the minds of all but the witch or wizard in question."
With that, Bogrod quickly bid him good day, before he departed from the room. The goblin paused slightly as he exited the room, before gently shaking his head and continuing on his way.
Harry decided against doing his school shopping today. He was no longer in the mood to spend the day frolicking around, much more interested in what this might mean for him.
The boy silently departed from the bank and began the journey back home. He was rather preoccupied at the moment, and hoped that nobody would bump into him (even though he probably should be paying attention to where he walked). Harry felt his lack of focus was justified, however.
It never dawned upon him that nobody seemed to come within a few feet of him the entire journey back to Privet Drive, regardless of how crowded it got.