Blood Crown (Translation)

The next day, Emrys received a large package, which looked comical being carried by his small golem. He untied the load from the bird's little leg, and when it was free, it flew to the bookshelf where it usually perched.

The package was wrapped in silk fabric and a wax seal with the emblem of the Goblin royalty. Curious, he broke the seal and removed the scarf that enveloped it, revealing a finely decorated wooden box with a scene he recognized, one of the goblin wars where they had killed a dragon, a recurring theme in goblin epic poetry.

He opened the box and inside noticed several documents and a letter on top of them. He picked up the letter, seeing the seal repeated. Had his friend managed to become royalty?...

"Emrys, I must say I am surprised by your letter. It has been almost 40 years since we last spoke, so I did not expect our first interaction after so many years to be to tell me that you adopted a wizard cub, but I suppose that time is but a sigh to you.

I have had my people acquire everything you need to know about that boy, I am sure it will be of help. Regarding the matter of magical adoption, I recommend that the boy and you come as quickly as possible to one of the Gringotts branches, preferably one of the main branches. I will leave a special token in the package so that you have no problems.

I hope to see you soon, may your gold flow like the rivers of Maldreg and your enemies suffer under the yoke of your sword.
Your friend, Heskur Attem
XV King of Ilkrig"

The red-haired Kindred read the letter twice before setting it aside. He hadn't thought that in 40 years his friend would manage to become the new king of the goblin nation. He remembered that the other had wanted to unify the European peoples under a single monarchy; he hadn't thought he would achieve it so quickly.

He smiled slightly to himself and noticed that there were more things there than he thought. There were children's books, newspaper clippings, and history books. What did they have to do with the boy he had adopted?

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Hours had passed without him realizing it. The pile of documents and press clippings had filled his desk by that time.

The history books told of the prowess of "the boy who lived," the tales of the adventures of said boy, conqueror of death, vanquisher of dark lords.

The newspapers recounted the rise of Lord Voldemort's power until his fall at the hands of a baby... The Potters as war heroes (although James was mentioned more than Lily), whose sacrifice along with Harry marked the era of momentary peace.

Emrys sighed, more out of reflex than because he actually needed to breathe, looking at the papers around him.

Harry was famous... Not only that, he was seen as the savior of the magical world.

That only made him question more the state in which he had found the boy. Of course, the dark-haired boy was an orphan, but being the savior, wouldn't there be huge lines of people wanting to adopt him?

He remembered the words in the letter. Apparently, there was more at stake than he expected. Well, a little excitement in his routine life was worth it.

He got up and took the things, putting them back in the box except for the goblin king's letter, which remained on his desk, and thus with everything back in place, he set off for the boy's room.

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Harry had been studying more diligently since his Sire had praised him. He wanted to make him proud, he wanted to receive those words again, so he had been studying even after bedtime, although Rose had scolded him the night before when they found him reading at 5 am.

At that moment, he was getting ready to sleep, somewhat tired from the previous night. The books that talked about the magical societies of Europe were interesting, although most were surely outdated because they were almost 100 years old.

He heard a knock on the door and turned to look at it. It was rare for someone to knock at that hour.

"Come in!" the dark-haired boy said, sitting up in bed. He expected to see one of the Ghouls, but was pleasantly surprised to see his Sire enter. Maybe he already had the new name?

"I hope I haven't interrupted you," his Sire said. He shook his head fervently, and that seemed to calm the Kindred. The older man advanced and placed a box on the bed, sitting beside him. He was curious about what it was, but let the older man speak first.

"I asked the goblins for help with your magical birth records, but what they gave me was more than I expected..." He opened the box and first took out the newspaper clippings. Harry could tell that the redhead seemed tense about it, and from the amount of things he could see in the box, it seemed to be something important.

Harry took the newspapers that the older man gave him and began to read them. He watched curiously as the images moved and wondered if he could have something like that with his Sire.
He concentrated and read the headlines. There were very old newspapers, talking about someone called "Voldemort." He didn't understand what it had to do with him, but if the other had given it to him, it must have relevance, so he continued reading.

The narrative was cruel, years of war, of panic among the people, murders and genocides. He could notice the desolation in each publication. He noted that there were years when newspapers were scarce, only to report the names of tortured or dead wizarding families.

That was until the last newspapers, where the headline changed radically: "The Boy Who Lived and the Defeat of Lord Voldemort." The article was about the story of a baby named Harry Pot... He stopped for a moment and looked at his Sire. Could it be...? The older man's gaze told him to continue reading, and he did.

The story of Lily and James Potter, two people who fought and opposed Voldemort, only to die by his wand in the end, and of their son Harry Potter, savior of the magical world, the only one to survive a killing curse and defeat the feared dark wizard.

He left the newspaper on the bed when he finished the last articles talking about the end of the war, feeling overwhelmed by the information. Although reading from the beginning of the war to the end had helped him understand a little about everything that had happened, it was still something heavy for him.

His parents hadn't died in a crash to begin with, and he... the dark Lord had tried to murder him. The most important dark wizard of that moment in history had made it his personal mission to kill him, only for it to go wrong and for him to die... But how?... At least he knew what that scar on his face was from.

His Sire must have sensed that something was wrong, because he pulled him onto his lap, wrinkling some articles in the process, only to hug him against himself. Hesitantly, little Harry hugged the man. No, the Kindred. His hard, cold skin gave him comfort, along with the soft caresses on his unruly black hair.

The older man said nothing, there were no empty words of comfort, just silent support, and that was more than he needed. He closed his eyes, his glasses slightly askew from the position against the older man's chest, but he didn't care.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that. The caresses on his head and the arm that held him never left him. His head began to clear after a while. He hadn't thought he would be famous, nor did he think his scar would have such a story behind it, but it didn't change the essence of things, in fact, it only made them worse.

If he was a savior to the wizards... why hadn't any of them cared about him?... Why had they abandoned him with humans who hated magic?... Didn't he have any other family?... His Sire must have felt the change in him, because he moved him slightly away from his body to look into his eyes. The older man's eyes were full of knowledge, they were as beautiful as they were supernatural...

"Are you feeling better?" he asked softly, as if afraid to startle him. That made him smile a little. Indeed, it didn't matter who he had been, what mattered was who he was at that moment. He still had questions, but he could keep them to himself. He nodded to the Kindred, and he seemed to nod to himself.

"Do you want me to continue with the adoption?" His voice was hesitant. Perhaps he had thought he would change his mind after knowing who he was?

"Of course! I also want to know my new name." His Sire gave him a shy smile, one that didn't show those sharp fangs, perhaps so as not to scare him. That made him feel good, especially because the older man seemed more determined than before.

"Good, then we have to go to Gringotts. Do you remember what Gringotts was?" Harry only nodded to the question. He had read about the founding of the Bank by the goblins. "We'll go tomorrow then. I'll take you myself, so try to be ready by 7:00 pm. Tell one of the Ghouls to get you formal clothes." Harry nodded again. He didn't know what they would do at the bank, but the idea of leaving the tower sounded good, and he could also get to know the wizarding world.

"Sire?..." His Sire turned to look at him when he spoke, curious about what he might say. Since he didn't interrupt him, he continued, "Do you think we could see more of the wizarding world?" he asked delicately. The older man had been kind so far, and he had never dared to ask for anything. Anxiety began to gnaw at him at the other's silent pause.

"Yes, that would be a good idea, although it's your world now too. Maybe I should buy you some newer books as well. It would be useful to compare modern magic with my records..." his Sire said thoughtfully, eliciting a relieved sigh from him for not having angered him with his proposal.

"Now sleep... You can read the rest of the things, although most of it is fiction. The wizards made you a kind of hero in children's stories, and the history books talk about the dark wizard who tried to kill you. They might be a good reference for you..." his Sire said, getting up. He nodded and put the things back in the box. He was curious, of course, but he was also tired from all the news and doubted he could concentrate anymore.

"Goodnight, Sire..." the dark-haired boy said, getting under the covers and watching the older man near the exit door. The Kindred turned, giving him a soft smile before the candles went out on their own.

"Goodnight..." The Kindred's voice was as soft as the air that extinguished the fire. The door closed carefully, and soon Harry was in the world of dreams.

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Harry had been ready since 6:00 pm. The boy paced the room, fixing his hair, or at least trying to.
Erik watched him amused from the chair at the boy's desk, noticing how Harry rearranged his black shirt again. The whole outfit suited him well, although he wasn't used to wearing such elegant clothes: black tailored trousers, a cotton shirt with two emerald cufflinks, along with formal shoes of the same color.

The only thing breaking the block of color was his red silk tie. The dark-haired boy sighed and sat on the bed. He didn't have the head to continue studying, and he had spent since morning reading the rest of the contents of the box his Sire had brought him, so by that time he was overwhelmed with information.

Harry jumped when the door opened at exactly 7:00 pm. His Sire was dressed almost the same as him, although his tie was emerald green, and he wore a tailored jacket that complemented his outfit. His long hair was tied back in a high ponytail and decorated with a ribbon that seemed to be the same material as his tie, as well as a pair of leather gloves that covered half of his hands. His Sire seemed to evaluate him, and from the small smile he gave him, he seemed satisfied.

"Very well, let's go then..." The older man approached him, taking his shoulder to guide him. Erik followed them closely from behind, apparently accompanying them as well.

They crossed several hallways, all very poorly lit. In one of the corners, Harry swore he had seen something move, but he couldn't pay much attention because he had to keep up with the redhead's pace.

When they left the place, the younger boy turned to look at the building where he was staying, surprised to notice that from the outside it looked like a normal library, although it didn't make sense. That building seemed to have a maximum of two floors, and he knew from the number of stairs they had gone down that there were at least six levels. It wasn't called "the tower" for nothing.

He wanted to ask, but the redhead seemed to be in a bit of a hurry, urging him to get into the back of an elegant black car. He sat in the co-pilot seat, and Erik got in the driver's seat.

"Put on your seatbelt," was the Kindred's instruction, and he obeyed. The leather of the car seemed to be of very good quality and was very comfortable. He didn't know about cars, but he could tell this one was somewhat luxurious.

Erik drove through the city for at least an hour until they were near Leicester Square, in front of a bookstore.

"Pick us up in three hours, Erik, 11 will be fine..." his Sire indicated. Erik only nodded respectfully to the orders, watching the other get out of the car. Soon Harry imitated him, quickly saying goodbye to the Ghoul and getting out as well.

Emrys turned to look at him for a moment when he was by his side, as if evaluating him again. He brought his hand to his forehead and arranged his hair so that it covered his scar. Harry looked at him curiously but said nothing.

"Don't stray from me, we'll go straight to the bank, and when we leave, I'll let you see around. The shops close quite late, at least..."

The other began to walk, which forced the younger boy to follow him closely. They both entered a pub, which Harry hadn't noticed when they had parked.

The place was somewhat dark, full of customers drinking at this hour. Some looked at them curiously because they were dressed quite differently from them, but no one bothered them.

Harry clung to the Kindred's leg, holding the edge of the older man's jacket. He seemed to notice his anxiety because he instead took the small hand to guide him.
Soon they walked towards the back of the pub, where his Sire touched some bricks with his finger in a specific pattern. Soon, these began to move under the dark-haired boy's surprised gaze, revealing a long street with many shops in front of him.

The Kindred didn't hesitate much and began to walk, a little slower so that the boy could follow him without so many problems, also letting him see around a bit, stopping momentarily several times when the boy saw something that caught his attention specifically.

After a while, they managed to reach the imposing bank. Harry had never seen such an imposing and curious building before, as it was leaning and looked like it would fall at any moment.

They both entered the building, decorated with white marble and enormous ceilings with stained glass windows that let in the moonlight. In that huge lobby, there were more than a hundred goblins sitting on high stools behind long tables. These seemed to be attending to some wizards, and others seemed to be counting and weighing coins, writing, and examining precious coins and other jewels.

There were few people at that time, which meant they could go to one of the goblins soon. That creature seemed grumpy, although from what Harry had seen, they all looked the same. It seemed that wizards were not to their liking.

"Good evening," his Sire said. The goblin looked up to see him, while the redhead took something out of his jacket and showed it to him. The reaction was immediate. Harry could see the goblin pale slightly and open his mouth slightly.

"Good evening, Lord Myrddin, allow me to escort you," the goblin said with kindness in his voice. Harry wondered what it was that his Sire had shown him, and from the reaction of the wizard next to him, apparently the reaction in the goblin had been strange, but his Sire seemed to take it as normal, only nodding and following the goblin who had come down to guide them through a golden brass door that was under some arches behind where they were attending.

Harry was intrigued by many things, but it would be rude to ask at that moment, so he just followed the adults, walking through hallways where he could only see goblins, some armed with golden wands, others with weapons on their backs.

The further they walked, the more surprising the decoration became: walls decorated with jewels that seemed to shine with the light of the torches, enormous statues, and beautiful paintings. The younger boy was so entertained looking around that he didn't realize when he arrived at a room that seemed the most luxurious in the place. There were heavily armed goblins on each side of the door. The one guiding them only gestured, and they stepped aside, letting them enter.

There was an imposing black-haired goblin there, with a large scar that crossed half of his face, and with something that looked like scribbles marked on his neck, although he wore elegant clothes, different from the bankers, it was noticeable that they were of good quality.

His Sire entered, and he followed. The door behind them closed. The room was large, although at the back was a simple desk and that goblin. On the floor of the room was a circle with several stars and letters that he didn't know, they looked like they were made of gold, and they stood out against the black marble.

"Welcome, Lord Myrddin, I am Svish, the current head of the Gringotts bank in the England region. Welcome, young Potter, I hope your gold is flowing abundantly..." The goblin greeted them politely. His Sire walked without letting go of his hand to the leather chairs in front of the desk, before releasing it so he could sit in the adjacent chair.

"A pleasure, Svish, you can call me Emrys. I am sure my gold is abundant if it is managed by you... I hope you are aware of the situation, Hes... King Heskur mentioned that it was imperative to come as soon as possible." Harry looked at the older man, as Emrys seemed to have corrected something at the last minute, and also... had he said king? Did his Sire know the king of the goblins?

"Yes, Lord Emrys, his majesty informed us of your... predicament," the goblin said, giving him a quick glance, which made Harry feel a little uncomfortable.

"Apparently, there are inconsistencies regarding young Potter. Upon reviewing his birth documents, we noted that the wills of the late Lord and Lady Potter were ignored. Furthermore, young Potter has a magical guardian, Albus Dumbledore." The goblin seemed disgusted at the mere mention of the man. Emrys knew who Albus was, but Harry looked confused.

"Wait... But I don't know anyone by that name... I've always lived with my aunt and uncle," the dark-haired boy said, frowning slightly at the news. If he had a guardian, why was he living with his relatives then?

"I found him near death, and he lives with non-magical humans," his Sire said. The goblin nodded as if expecting that answer from both of them.

"Then we can legally appeal regarding the magical guardian... However, we will need young Potter's health records, but to avoid wizard interference, we will do it ourselves... Do you agree to be examined?" The goblin looked directly at him, causing Harry to shift in his chair. He wasn't entirely happy about being examined, but if it meant his Sire could adopt him, he would do it, so he nodded slightly.

That seemed sufficient for the goblin, who rang something under his desk, which triggered a series of noises from behind. Harry and the Kindred turned to see the floor open and several things emerge: a kind of white stretcher, multiple glass objects filled with curious substances, and other tools neither of them recognized. Soon someone knocked on the door and entered. It was another goblin wearing a kind of blood-red robe with a golden emblem on his chest.

Upon seeing them, he gave a slight bow and stood beside the things that had just come out of the floor.

"This is one of our most experienced healers. If young Potter would be so kind as to lie down on the stretcher, our healer will perform the necessary examinations..."
Harry hesitated a little, but a look from his Sire calmed him, and it was enough for him to get up from the chair and go to the new stretcher in the center of the room. He climbed onto it with the help of the serious goblin and lay down, looking at the stained glass ceiling. He could see some parts of the night sky in that position.

"I will begin with the examinations..." the goblin announced, raising his hands. One of them held a golden wand with metal flowers at the base. Harry only nodded. A light emanated from the goblin's hand and wand, covering his body. The magic felt warm, and the glow didn't obstruct his view of the ceiling. However, the heat began to grow stronger and stronger, and the noise he heard was deafening...

Who was screaming?

The pain was horrible. He felt as if the magic permeated and burned his veins. It was then that he realized that he was the one screaming.

The last thing he saw was the distant glow of the stars.