The steam from the shower made the air heavy. The water coming out of the showerhead was almost boiling, but it was the first hot shower since the summer started, that Harry had been allowed. Well, he could have taken a hot shower the day before but he had been too exhausted by then, and had been more focused on getting to bed than anything else. Not that he wasn't exhausted now, but then it had been both physically, mentally and emotionally, now it was only the mental exhaustion he had to deal with. Well, he was emotionally exhausted two, it was just slightly overshadowed by the cloud of numbness he felt. He only stepped out of the shower when the skin on his fingers started to wrinkle.
Harry, after having dried his hair to a point that it wasn't dripping, used his towel to wipe the worst of the condensation off the mirror. Without his glasses Harry did not look like a coben copy of his father. In fact, other than his slightly darker skin color, that he had apparently gotten from his great grandmother Asha Potter nee Naidu, a first generation pureblood, that his great grandfather Henry (the man he had partly been named after) had meet in India, and the birds nest he called hair, he looked a lot like his mother.
He let his towel run down his chest and stomach. It had only been a day, but he could swear that his ribs were less prominent and his stomach less sunken. Though it might just be his imagination, the potions he had been prescribed could do a lot, but not even magic could make up for years of malnutrition in just one day.
He looked in the mirror contemplating his appearance. He was short and skinny. He had black hair and brown skin. His eyebrows were straight and thin, the left having been cut in half by the lightning bolt scar that arced from his hairline down to his eyelid. He had a button nose and sharp cheekbones, though that latter might just be from the lack of any healthy fat. And then there were his eyes. Big, round and an almost unnatural green color, one that almost seemed to glow. Overall nothing special, other than his coloring maybe. Especially not swallowed up in his cousin's cast offs. He was going to buy a new wardrobe tomorrow, he decided. No more of Dudley's cast offs, and no more Dursleys. At least not for the rest of the summer. Harry took a deep breath and looked one last time at his reflection before turning and walking out of the small bathroom attached to room 11. His skin prickled with goosebumps as the cool air of the room hit him. Though it was summer, it still got cold in the evenings and nights.
He hurried over to his trunk, and pulled out one of Dudley's old shirts. It had gotten too small for the obese boy about two years ago but was so big on Harry it went past his thighs. It made him look smaller than he actually was. Not that Harry wasn't small, he was. He was the shortest of all his yearmates, girls included. He was also skinny, to the point it was unhealthy. Not that anyone seemed to notice that.
After putting the shirt and some boxers on. Thankfully his own that he bought last summer, well getting his new school robes. Not that he really needed resizing, he had not grown much over the year… or the summer for that matter. But he had needed some winter robes as the Scottish winters weren't kind to him. Harry hated the cold with a passion and well he had learned the heating charm to combat it, you were not allowed to use them in potions class. As any magic used, could interfere with the way the ingredients would react with each other. But sins potions were held in the dungeons, it was almost as cold as it was outside. Harry had noted that none of the Slytherins that they shared the class with seemed to have that problem and even some of the Griffendoors. All pureblood, Harry would later learn, minus Ron who had it as bad as Harry. He had asked Neville after their second class after the snow had fallen as to why he didn't seem bothered by the cold, and had gotten the slightly baffled response that he had heating runes sewn into his cloak. Harry had politely thanked him for his answer and had sworn to get himself a similar cloak as soon as he could. Harry hurried under the covers of his bed. The cool shet, well feeling good against his skin also made him shiver. He lay there, curled on his side, thinking over the events that had led him to where he was now.
He had blown his uncle's sister, Marge, up like a balloon, sending her flying off into the night sky, after she had called his mother a bitch, said that there was something wrong with her and by extension him and said that if he had ended up on her doorstep that she would have drowned him. His uncle had threatened him, not an unusual thing to happen, though he had been a lot angrier than normal. Kind of understandable given the situation. Harry had, surprising both his uncle and himself, threatened Vernon right back. He had stormed out of the house, his magic almost visibly crackling around him in his loss of temper. He had then had the life scared half out of him by a very large black dog, and then nearly been run over by a very, very large purple double decker bus. Of all things. One that he had apparently summoned by holding his wand aloft near a road. Harry wasn't sure why these things even surprised him anymore.
Nothing really should after the hold, baby mort trapt in a diary possessing his best mate's little sister and having to fight his very large pet death stare serpent, with nothing but a talking piece of headgear and a magically fiery, singing bird. Oh and the sword that he had had to pull out of the talking garment like a street magician pulling a bunny rabbit out of his fancy top hat. Nearly dying after stabbing the oversized murder noodle, with a sword that seemed about the right size to act as a toothpick for the beast. And getting stabbed in return with a fang the size of a big dagger, though his upper arm. And because a literal death stare wasn't enough, the damn thing had to have some of the, if not THE deadliest venom in the world. Because that isn't overkill… literally. The only reason he had survived was because Fawks, the magically fiery singing bird, cried on his wound. Oh and inbetween the hole being chewed on and being fixed Harry stabbed the diary with the very venomous fang that had been in his arm. Because if Harry was going to die, he was going to take the git that killed him with him. Riddle did die, or the equivalent for whatever he was. And Harry survived, and Ginny, Ron's little sister that had been possessed survived. And Lockhart the buffoon that had acted as the defense teacher obliviated himself irrevocably, with Ron's broken wand. So it all turned out okay in the end.
Back to how Harry ended up at the Leaky Cauldron.
He had then lied about his name to the conductor, giving the first name he could come up with that wasn't Harry or Potter, blurting out Neville. Followed by possibly the worst ride of his life, in the devil's purple tin can on wheels. That was an experience he would be happy to live without repeating, please and thank you very much. He had been greeted, as soon as he stumbled out of the death trap, by none other than Cornelius Fudge, better known as the minister of magic. Had nearly had a heart attack, when finding out who he was talking to. Only to barely get a slap on the wrist, and getting one of the bigger rooms in the Leaky Cauldron paid for him to stay in, for the rest of the summer, two meals a day included. Harry had then been escorted up to his room, where he was greeted by Hedwig, his clever girl. And afterwards had been left to his own devices. He could vaguely remember stubbing his toe on his trunk, having a brief fight with his nightshirt and stumbling his way to bed. He was pretty sure that he had been out before his head even hit the pillow.
He had woken up the next morning well rested, if not a little groggy. The sun had barely been up yet, but that is what you get when you grow up with Petunia Dursley as an aunt. He had to wake early to make tea for her and breakfast for the rest of the family, minus Harry, of course. He had shuffled around getting ready for the day the best he could, eventually going down into the main pup for some breakfast. Which consisted of toast with jam and some eggs. Harry's stomach had gotten smaller again after his stint with the Dursleys, which after the work he had put into expanding it enough to eat a somewhat normal serving size well at Hogwarts, was just rude.
When going out that morning he had originally just wanted to look around. But it had been too early for most shops to have been open just yet. The bank was open though. Harry would learn that the bank was always open, to service all their customers. Such as creatures like vampires, that were unable to go into the sun for example, would come when the sun was down. And some people that did not want to be seen. So Harry went to the bank, deciding that he might as well take some money out, in case he found something he could not live without later.
Getting into the bank had been easy, he just walked in. Nodding briefly to the guards standing at the doors. It took nothing from him to be polite after all, and good manners was something that aunt Petunia had drilled into him from before he could talk. And being rude to those that hold his money, seemed like a genuinely stupid idea. Not many seemed to hold that opinion, if the surprise on the guard goblins faces was anything to go by. It had not actually been until he stood before the teller that he realized that he did not have his key. He had awkwardly stammered out a question of if there was a way to get into one's vault if you did not have your key, to the annoyed looking teller goblin. His nametag proclaiming him Rocksplitter. The short answer was yes, for a fee. The long answer was also yes, just with an explanation and for a fee. Rocksplitter, after having sent Harry a rather disgusted look, had sent for someone to do a blood test on him. When the goblin worker came over to show him to a side room, introducing himself as Fangrod, Harry was rather embarrassed to realize that he had forgotten to introduce himself, when the goblin asked for his name. When answering he had gotten a look that he couldn't quite decipher, it almost seemed like an odd mix between disbelief and sadistik glee. He had explained that Harry was apparently not the first person claiming to be 'The Harry Potter', and that should he turn out not to be, the consequences would be dire. The walk to the side room was quiet after that, giving Harry just enough time to get into his own head over what in the world a blood test was. When they finally reached the room, (the walk really wasn't that long, it just felt like it) Harry's nerves were running thin.
Turns out there had really been no reason to be worried. After having paid the fee of one galleon. A good incentive not to lose one's key. He just had to make a small cut on his finger and allow three drops of blood on the parchment that had been placed in front of him. And the results of the test had probably the first real shock of the day, but not the last by far. Apparently Harry's name wasn't Harry, Harry having been a nickname. No, his name was Hadrian.
Hadrian James Lilian Potter Black.
Where the Black had come from, Harry (or Hadrian now? he would think about that later) did not know. Apparently there were a lot of things Harry did not know. Like the fact that he was the heir to two families. The Potter's and Black's. Which he found out when the goblin that had been taking the blood test, Fangrod was it? Bowed his head to Harry addressing him as heir Potter Black and requested him to follow him to his account managers office. He had followed in a bit of a daze, trying to organize the new information but he had honestly been a little stuck on the whole 'Name he did not know about' thing, for much else to register. He had snapped out of it somewhat when they reached an ornate oak door, with rather beautiful carvings on it. Fangrod had given two firm knocks at the wooden surface, and they had waited silently for a response. One that came shortly after. A gruff but light (Compared to other goblins he had heard) voice had called for them to enter, and the doors had seemed to open by them self.
The office that they had entered was filled with all types of shiny and stabby things hanging on the marble stone walls. And behind a large wooden desk had sat a surprisingly small but rather scary looking female goblin. The sides of her head were shaved, leaving the top of her head filled with thick hair. It had been white as snow from what seemed to be age, and braided in an intricate braid with gold rings woven into it. She had had a golden nose ring on the side of her nose that was connected with a thin chain to one of the equally golden rings on her ear. She was not beautiful, not by human standard at least, but there was something captivating in the way she held herself. Harry had stood there feeling utterly out of place there in that fancy office in his old, too large hand me downs. Fangrod had introduced Harry to his account manager, Mim, (apparently not all goblins had scary names, who knew) and then left them to stare at each other. Or… well, Harry had stared, a little at a loss of what to do. Apparently having had sensed this, or just being fed up of being goggled at, Mim had asked Harry to take a seat. Harry had bowed slightly and apologized for his rudeness, as he scurried over to the set on the opposite side of the desk to Mim. And then Harry had started rambling. And he had been so proud of himself for keeping the freak out internally until then. He had fired question after question at her in rapid succession.
He had an account manager? Well obviously, but why? Didn't he only have one vault? And, yes there had admittedly been rather a lot, in the set vault, but surely it was not enough to require an account manager? He was the Potter heir? What did that mean? And he was the Black heir? Who are they and how is he the heir? And his name was Hadrian? Since when, and if it had always been that then how come he didn't know?
He ended up having to physically put a hand over his mouth to stop the, rather embarrassing, case of word vomit. Mim seemed a mix between amused and alarmed at the questions. She then stated that he did in fact have more than one vault, in fact he had seven vaults, just in the Potter name. Harry's trust vault, his parents shared vault, Lily's personal vault (one that she had set up her fourth year of schooling), his grandparents shared vault, his grandmother's personal vault (her former Black trust vault), the family vault for gold and the family vault for objects. Harry's trust vault would become his personal vault, and if he wished for it, the shared vault of him and his spouse should he ever get married. As he would be Lord Potter by then, and expected to take care of his partner financially. Unless he were to marry a Lord or Lady of higher standing. Unlikely given he was the heir to the black family as well. How he was the Black heir she had not known. When he had asked how there could be a Lord consort Potter, she had blinked at him and asked if he knew anything about wizard biology, and had then requested that he come back in a couple days for a health check and so there healers could explain a couple of things for him. Not that he would have a checkup after the meeting as she was slightly concerned over his height since both of his parents had been fairly tall, and he was, well… not. And so that they could discuss the things that they learned today, when Mim hopefully knew more about it, and would be able to explain it properly. She had not thought that it would be a good idea to dump too much more new and shocking information on him today than necessary. She had then recommended that he take an inheritance test, to potentially see how he was the Black heir and see if there were any other surprises in his blood, so that she would know who to talk to. She had then with a concerned if not amused smile stated that 'Yes his name was Hadrian' and 'Yes it had always been Hadrian' and to add to Harry's confusion asked 'But had not his magical guardian taught him these things?'. Which 'No apparently not' and 'What, if he may ask, was a magical guardian?'
That had seemed to wash away Mim's amusement pretty quickly. She had stared at him for what had to have been a solid minut, before starting to mumble something Harry had been pretty sure was curses in Gobbledegook. She had then explained to him that a magical guardian was exactly what it sounded like. A guardian who was magical… literally. They were responsible for making sure that the child in their care was happy, healthy and was taught the responsibilities of their station. When entering Hogwarts the guardianship would partly fall to one's head of house during the school year, which just means that they are responsible for making sure that the children under their care are healthy. Essentially acting as a second or third parent. Unless they are muggleborn, then the head of house would become the child in question's permanent magical guardian.
Harry at that point had felt as though he had gotten too much information shoved into his head, but he had had too many questions to stop. The most pressing being. Who was his magical guardian?
Mim had not known, but had said that it should show up on an inheritance test. She would even cut the fee down by five galleons, so he would only have to pay twenty. When Harry had been unable to stop himself from asking 'why?' (No one was just nice like that… not to him at least) she had just smiled, some of the amusement returning to her beady black eyes and said that she was interested in the answer as well. When he had looked at her slightly unbelieving she had explained that as his account manager, it was her job to look after his best interest or he could decide to replace her. And since she had been personally selected by a young lord Henry Potter, Harry's great grandfather, when she was just a young cart goblin, she was loath to give up her position. It had apparently not hurt that Harry reminded her of Lily, his mother, a human Mim had admired. Polite and curious to a fault. Harry had blushed at the comparison but had felt something warm in his chest. People often compared him to his father, not so often his mother. Not many talked about her at all. Now that Harry thought about it, no one really talked about any of them unless it was to compare Harry to them, though mostly his father.
Harry loved his parents, of course he did. But deep down, so deep Harry usually pretended it wasn't there. Harry sort of resented them. Resented them for not leaving the war behind when they realized that they were going to have a baby, have Harry. For leaving him, even if they did not mean to. Harry had promised himself quietly that he would ask Mim about them one of these days. Before shaking the thought and re-focusing on the matter at hand.
The inheritance test was easy enough to take. Much like the blood test actually, only there were seven drops of blood needed and not three. And the information that it showed was much more extensive.
Harry looked at his night table, at the inconspicuous paper laying there. The result had been a shock, still was, if he was honest.
Name: Hadrian James Lilian Potter Black
Born: 31. juli 1980
Father: James Charlus Potter (Deceased)
Mother: Lily Joan Potter nee Evans (Deceased)
Godfather/Blood adoption father: Sirius Orion Black (Incarcerated)
Godmother: Alice Marie Longbottom nee Fortescue (Unfit)
Magical guardian: Albus Dumbledoor (Illegally obtained)
Harry had just stared at the results, for a good long minut. Dumbledoor, his headmaster, was his magical guardian and did not tell him. Why? And he had been blood adopted. What? Mim had narrowed her eyes when he had shown her the results, and stated that they would be talking about his magical guardian another time. When she had had time to dig a little.
After that there was some information about his vaults. He had access to two more vaults from the Black's, a trust vault that had been automatically set up the moment he was blood adopted. Apparently that was normal for some of the older families. That as soon as a child was brought into the family, either by birth or adoption (the ladder slightly frowned upon), the child in question would have a trust vault automatically set up for them. And Sirius's own vault. Which he could not take anything out of. When Harry had asked why he could not take anything out of the vault, not that he had intended to, he was just curious. And he had noticed it with some of the other vaults too, Mim explained that 'Access' in this matter ment that he was able to enter the vaults in question, and that he could ask for a statement from them, though not take anything out. This was the matter for all the vaults, minus his trust vaults that he had full access to and Sirius's vault which if granted permission from the owner or in the case of Harry taking up the Black Lordship, either when coming of age or if emancipated. A Lordship which Sirius was unable to take up, due to having been informally disowned, and therefore found unsuitable to take on the Black Lordship. Though any children should be able to take the Lordship. Hence why Harry, as Sirius's blood adopted son, was first in line.
There was also some information on titles and… seats? whatever that was. Apparently people had left some things in his name in their wills. Money, things, properties, sets and some even tried to will him their titles (though possible in the muggle world it was not so in the wizarding world unless the recipient was related to the family within five generations). But Harry had been a little too overwhelmed to pay much attention to that at that moment. The meeting had ended shortly after that, Mim properly having sensed that Harry's mind was a million miles away. She had given him a money pouch that was connected to his Potter trust vault, the whole reason Harry had come there at all and arranged for an early morning meeting in two days. Until then she had recommended that he get his hands on some books on wizarding culture and customs, and take a little time to properly look over the inheritance tests results and digest the information.
She had then personally escorted him to a Goblin healer named Ironskull for a quick scan where it was quite apparent that there was something wrong. Harry had however been too drained at that point to really pay much attention. He came back to himself a bit when he had gotten some potions shown into his hands along with a note stating when he needed to take them. He had also been told to come back for a more indepth scan and healing session within the week.
Harry curled a little tighter into himself. He stared into space for a moment. He had a father… has a father. He… he wasn't an orphan, not really. He had a living, breathing father. A mass murderer granted, but still. Harry… did not know how to feel about that. He decided to put it out of his head for now, and try to get some sleep.
'Yeah' Harry thought with a yawn 'Sleep sounds good'. It had been a long day after all, and tomorrow was properly not going to be shorter. Harry snuggled further into his blanket and fell into a fitful sleep.