Hadrian Evans-Potter and the Heir of Death

Harry took the map and grinned.

"You told me Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs would've wanted to lure me out of school... you said they'd have thought it was funny."

"And so we would have done," said Lupin, now reaching down to close his case. "I have no hesitation in saying that James would have been highly disappointed if his son had never found any of the secret passages out of the castle,"

There was a knock on the door.

Harry hastily checked the map to see who was outside Lupin's office and saw the name Albus Dumbledore floating beside a set of patiently waiting footprints. Without a second thought, he stuffed the map in the pocket of his school robes, and the jovial atmosphere plunged into the cold of The Black Lake.

He reached out, his fingers closing around Lupin's patchwork brown cloak, his green eyes pleading behind large round glasses. "Find me on the platform at Kings Cross Station," Harry begged, his voice low in the hopes he wouldn't be heard by the elderly wizard on the other side of the door.

Lupin looked baffled at the hurried request and sudden change in the usually jovial child. He tilted his head to the door in confusion as Harry continued. "Please, Professor. On the muggle side of the platform, please meet me there. A large, well-dressed man will be waiting there. Please, meet me on the platform," Harry said, his grip tightening on the worn material hanging off Lupin's bony shoulders.

He ignored the nagging voice of his aunt, screeching about how rude the gesture was.

A niggling thought in his head cautioned that Lupin would shake him off, look at him with disgust that Harry would dare to touch him as Vernon had so many times.

Finally, after another insistent knock on the door and a curious and worried look, Lupin nodded. Harry sighed and released the man, stepping away until his back hit the desk, and he forced his body to relax.

"Come in," Lupin called, and Dumbledore entered.

~~~

Harry leapt off the Hogwarts Express, grinning broadly. Sirius's letter was clutched tight in his hand, and Hedwig nuzzled his mess of pitch-black hair from her seat on his shoulder. He waved off his two best friends, his heart twisting as it always did when he watched them happily hug their parents, the sweet reunion straining at his grin, and he felt guilt build inside him for the reaction before he turned and left the platform.

He passed through the brick wall illusion that hid the gate of Platform 9 3/4 into the Muggle side of Kings Cross Station, his falling apart trunk trailing behind him with a sharp squeal every few seconds from the lopsided wheel.

The sight that greeted him made him equally nervous and amused, wiping away the guilt from moments before.

Uncle Vernon looked very odd in well-dressed, neat attire bulging at the seams beside the sickly thin, tall form of Remus Lupin. It was amusing how Uncle Vernon feigned polite disinterest while secretly scorning the thin man's shabby clothes, believing him to be a regular, lower-class 'normal' person. Harry took great pains to hide his smirk at the knowledge that Uncle Vernon was unknowingly conversing with a wizard and a Werewolf.

He was somewhat surprised when he caught sight of his Professor. Lupin had shed his Patchy Wizard's Cloak for a tweed jacket that looked one wrong thread away from completely unravelling. The rest of his appearance was the same at school, but the simple difference in outwear had a tremendous effect and made him look like an ordinary, if heavily scarred, Muggle. He didn't know Wizards were so adept at appearing Muggle, remembering years of strange men and women in bizarre outfits he'd thought were actors until his Hogwarts Letter arrived.

"Yes, I'm a Professor," Lupin said politely, likely answering whatever question Uncle Vernon had asked him while the large man nodded along, "I earned my masteries about five years ago, I believe,"

"Ah, yes, I considered acquiring a degree myself, but running a business is quite time-consuming," Harry rolled his eyes at the absolute polly-cock coming out of his Uncle's mouth. "What did you say your mastery was in again?"

Harry chose that moment to interrupt. "Professor Lupin, Uncle Vernon," he raised a hand. Lupin looked up and smiled brightly upon seeing Harry. Harry had to take several moments to blink as he wondered if any adult had greeted him so warmly before this.

"Harry, I was wondering if I'd forgotten the arrival times. It has been over a decade since I came home from Hogwarts on the Express. So this is your Uncle, is it?" Lupin turned his eyes towards the portly man, the amber orbs revealing the youth hidden by the greying hair and pallid complexion.

From the moment Harry appeared, Uncle Vernon's face had steadily been trying to mimic the visage of a plum. "Yo-you!" he pointed a sausage finger at the thin man beside him as if he'd just admitted he was a heinous murderer. "You're one of—one of those-!" he spat, his voice rising as his whole body shook with rage.

Lupin stepped back, shock evident from the complete one-eighty Vernon's temperament had accomplished. "I beg your pardon?" Lupin asked, bewildered.

"You're one of those!" He shouted, pointing at Harry as if it explained everything. "Freaks!" spit flew.

People walking past them started to look at them strangely. Some glanced from Uncle Vernon's giant frame to Lupin, who looked like he'd been to war and back before settling on Harry.

Harry, looking more like a twelve year old child then a month away from being a fourteen year old with darker skin and Middle Eastern features highlighted their evident difference in nationality.

Harry swore he heard a few people who passed behind him mumbling about 'Racists'. Harry had to agree it was undoubtedly a type of Raciscm Uncle Vernon harboured against him since the day he'd been left on a doorstep. Thinking back on it, Harry realised there was likely more than just his identity as a wizard, which his Uncle hated him for.

Uncle Vernon was ignorant to the glares he received as a station guard began to approach them. Harry, aware of the trouble coming to find them, quickly stepped forward, getting his Uncle's attention.

"Uncle Vernon!" he quickly interrupted, holding up a placating hand even as it shook in the face of the man's anger. He kept his voice stable despite his heart thumping hard in his chest, attempting to betray his facade. Memories of this same anger being cast on him so often had his back flaring in phantom pains.

"Professor Lupin will take me away, so you won't have to see me again!”

That caught both men's attention. Vernon's face slowly returned to his normal skin tone while Lupin's mouth dropped open in shock.

"I promise that as long as you tell anyone asking that I'm still at Privet Drive, I won't return. If anyone comes knocking, you can tell them what you like! You can tell them you've grounded me in my room for the rest of the summer because of what happened to Aunt Marge, or you can tell them I'm deep cleaning the house; I don't care. If you get any letters from anyone, write my name on them, and they'll find me, and you won't ever have to see my face again."

Uncle Vernon didn't say anything for many minutes, scrutinizing Harry like he was slightly more interesting than a bug on the side of the road.

"No one has to know you're not there? You'll never come back?" Vernon asked, sceptical. His pudgy finger was still held before him as Harry watched the thoughts swirling in his mind. Harry paused at the first question. Why did it matter to Uncle Vernon if anyone knew? He quickly rid himself of those thoughts when freedom was so close.

Harry nodded, maybe a little too eagerly. "The only way they'll send me back is kicking and screaming. I'll work out my situation, so if I ever turn back up, I'll pretend to be there a few days and leave again. I promise. All you have to do is sign this paper, and all legal rights and responsibilities over me are no longer yours,"

Uncle Vernon seemed to consider this: a Freak-free life with minimal hiccups if it's found out that Harry doesn't live with them or force him to stay every summer for the next couple of years as they’d been doing. Harry could have presented it on a silver platter; it was an appetising arrangement.

He knew he'd won when the man's porky face lit up in satisfaction.

"Deal!" Uncle Vernon shouted with a disgusting grin as he swiftly took the envelope Harry held out for the man, read through the parchment inside, and signed it promptly on a brick column. When Harry checked, he found each spot meticulously signed.

Uncle Vernon left the station, moving faster than Harry had ever seen the colossal man move and laughing maniacally. He didn't look back once.

It was silent once the man's presence had finally disappeared. Harry refused to look Lupin in the eyes and put the large envelope back in his trunk with a carefulness not seen in most his age.

Harry winced when he sensed the man beside him open his mouth, likely to ask the many questions he had inside his head.

"Sorry, Professor Lupin." Harry quickly grabbed the reedy man's jacket arm and herded him onto the streets of London before he could talk, surprisingly without protest, dragging his trunk behind them. Compared to the Medieval-esque Wizarding World, the Muggle world was a clash of modern noise and speeding cars.

It was jarring after the months spent in a castle without electricity or motorisation. Magic was convenient but far quieter than the constant buzz of the Muggle World.

Harry quickly dragged Lupin towards a small cafe outside the station, noting the comfy-looking private booths and promptly choosing a secluded one. Hedwig had hastily launched from his shoulder before they had entered, so he didn't receive any strange looks like he usually would when wandering around Diagon Alley or London with a domesticated Snowy Owl perched upon him.

They didn't talk, though Lupin's curiosity was evident in the tilt of his head and the imploring look he gave the dark-haired boy opposite him. Harry's smile was stiff as they ordered tea and scones, waiting patiently for it to be served before the sounds around them became muted. He felt like they were suddenly in a bubble and glanced around in awe.

Harry couldn't hear the noisy couple at the front of the shop anymore, their words mumbling in gibberish. Lupin grinned at the reaction and explained. "It is called the Muffliato Charm, created by a student in my year when I was studying at Hogwarts. It became a popular spell during the war and is now taught in Fifth Year Charms. It makes it so that anyone within the vicinity to hear our conversation will only hear an unidentifiable buzzing instead of our voices. I can teach you if you'd like,"

Harry grinned while nodding enthusiastically, thinking of how useful the spell would be, given his and his friend's penchant for getting into trouble throughout the school year. Lupin smiled, likely thinking along the same lines. Harry wondered again about the man's supposed pranking days with Harry's father, but the thought died at Lupin's suddenly serious expression.

It wasn't the scary expression Harry was familiar with on adults; it was more concerned and worried like Harry had seen Arthur Weasley give his children. Harry felt a bubbling warmth, never having such a look cast upon him before—a parental gaze.

"What's going on, Harry? Who was that man, and why did he walk off so quickly and shout all those things? Why did he sigh away his responsibilities like he's been waiting for the chance?" Lupin asked so earnestly Harry had to swallow hard. He felt guilt curl in his gut and knew he'd done a horrible thing to the man who'd been helpful and kind since they'd first met on the train.

"I won't go back to the Dursleys," he began, his head lowered in shame but determination strong in his voice. "I won't go back there another summer, and neither you nor anyone else can make me." He looked up, vibrant emerald eyes glaring defiantly into Lupin's amber, slamming the guilt behind a thick door in his heart. Harry thought the amber orbs shone briefly but blamed it on the sunlight streaming through the window of their booth.

"Alright, I understand; I won't send you back," Lupin said placatingly. Harry knew he didn't really, but he appreciated the acceptance nonetheless. "Now, tell me how this all started,"

Harry cleared his throat, preparing himself for a long talk.

"When I visited Gringotts last year, I asked the goblins if I could visit my vault and take out more money, as my limit was one hundred galleons, and I had another week before I could take any out from the previous year’s cut-off. I wanted to use the money for Hogsmeade and Christmas presents. They said I couldn't without a guardian present as I was underage. I asked why, and they said I was supposed to attend a meeting to finalise some things about inheritance and that I had been ignoring their summons, and they were quite cross with me. I didn't know what they were talking about, so they gave me this letter,"

Harry pulled a letter from his trunk, smoothing it out on the table before handing it over to Lupin.

Dear Mr Potter and his Guardian/Carers

 

We request your immediate presence at Gringotts Bank to confirm Mr Potter's heirship and inheritance.

It would be appreciated if you could attend this meeting at your earliest convenience.

 

May your Gold Ever Flow,

Master Blordak

Manager to the Potter Family Finances

He let Lupin read the letter, watching the man's eyebrows raise incredulously. "Have you been ignoring their letters?" Lupin asked. Harry almost snapped something that would certainly not get the man to help when he noticed his voice didn’t have the usual amount of accusation Harry was accustomed to. He bit his lip and reconsidered his wording.

"No, I didn't know they were sending me letters," Harry admitted, returning the letter to his ratty trunk. "I assumed Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia were receiving and burning them, but when I told them my Guardians were Muggles, they laughed at me and said my Magical Guardian should be receiving the letters, not my Muggle Ones. They were irritated when I told them I didn't know I had a Magical Guardian, so they told me to leave and return with my current guardian to get it sorted out. If I turned up with Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon, they would take every penny they could get from my vault, citing the expenses of raising me, though they barely spent a pound on me.

"I was going to ask Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall to attend the meeting with me, but neither would sign my form to go to Hogsmeade stating they weren't my guardian and therefore could not permit me so I figured they wouldn't be able to attend the meeting either. I went to the School Library to find out more about Guardians. I discovered that if a child has no magical guardian or does not know who they are after becoming orphaned, their muggle guardians can sign away their legal rights to a witch or wizard, essentially overriding any previous Magical Guardian's rights and instating the new witch or wizard as the Child's new Guardian in both magic and law.

"Legally, I am under Petunia and Vernon Dursley's custody in the Muggle World with no other known living blood relatives besides my underage cousin. By Wizard and Muggle law, my Godfather is incapable of taking me into his custody and would be rejected by magic. The only stipulations required are for a law-abiding citizen to have met the muggle guardians and for both parties to sign the documents I gave Uncle Vernon of free will and consent. Uncle Vernon only needed the motivation to sign and the knowledge of who would be taking me in for Magic to recognise it,"

Harry placed the folder of documents on the table, pushing it over to the Werewolf opposite him. "I don't expect you to bring me into your home and raise me; I only need you to act as my guardian and accompany me to Gringotts. Since I entered the Wizarding World, someone has controlled my accounts without my knowledge or consent. The Goblins told me the limit was placed a year before my Hogwarts letter arrived. It is almost the perfect amount to get the initial first-year school supplies with spare change for ordering Christmas presents. I never met anyone who claimed to be my Magical Guardian, nor did I speak to anyone about my accounts.

"I'll find accommodations for the summer, and I won't be a burden to you, I promise! I just need you to be my Guardian on paper until I reach the legal age. Please, Professor Lupin," Harry looked up into the man's wide amber eyes, mouth slightly open in shock.

Harry understood the reaction. He wasn't unaware of his sub-standard grades in most subjects since starting at Hogwarts. He'd become accustomed to dumbing himself down for Muggle Primary School lest his Cousin get worse marks than him and receive punishment for standing out. And so, he'd been ecstatic when he found he could do his best at his new school where his relatives couldn't lie about him and make him out to be an underage criminal.

He'd been sorely disappointed when he'd learned how far behind he was from his peers. Yet, no matter how much he wanted to study, he felt like the world was trying to oppose his efforts.

Either the material didn't make sense, he was missing a vital part linking everything together, or something distracted him (it wasn't difficult in the rowdy Gryffindor Common Room or the Library, where students were whispering about his defeat of Voldemort, him being the heir of Slytherin or Sirius Black's escape).

Harry had persisted, however, when he'd been researching magical guardians to enact this plan. He'd taken note after note over the year amongst the plots to kill and or harm him. He'd only realised something was wrong with him when it took him a month to read a chapter about the stipulations surrounding Guardian transfers, a topic he felt so strongly about for his freedom.

Getting away from the Dursleys had been a dream for longer than Harry can remember. If his younger self had seen how slow his research had been, he would've been scorned a hundred times by a tiny Harry.

Lupin took the parchment in his large, scarred hands, the long fingers tapping softly on the table as he read through the document he'd had to bribe Madam Pince to magically copy for him from a prominent legal tomb that had taken him months just to get through the relevant chapters on, not to mention acquiring the potion he’d had to soak the damn thing in to prove Vernon and Lupin were signing of their free will and consent. He’d known he could never brew Veritaserum himself, but luckily, the Weasley Twins could get their hands on about anything for the right price or a promised favour.

Lupin's mouth pursed as he turned the parchment over and placed it carefully on the table. "Why do you want me as your guardian?" he asked finally. "Me specifically. I suspect there are quite a few who wouldn't hesitate to offer themselves as your Guardian. Why would you want someone like me?" He didn't look upset or like he would reject Harry's proposal, so Harry considered the question carefully.

Harry took a sip of the tea cooling in front of him. He hummed, letting his finger skim the rim in a touch so soft it was feather-light and looked up at the man. He could see the doubt swirling in those eyes and a great deal more emotions he couldn’t identify.

"You're the first adult who helped me when I asked for it,” Harry admitted, keeping careful eye contact. “I understand you had to keep secrets from me, but you never lied and never dismissed my desire to learn the Patronus Charm despite how advanced it is. When I asked a question, you answered me honestly or told me when you couldn't. You didn't disregard my concerns, and even now, you are still hearing me out after I misled you into this situation. You're the best teacher I've ever had, and I don't know if I've ever learned and enjoyed learning so much in my whole life," He finished, flushing slightly at the honesty.

Embarrassment curled in his gut, but he ignored it as best he could.

Lupin appraised him for a long time, enough time for Harry to finish his scones, covered in a generous helping of sour plum jam, clotted cream, and most of his tea. He took the still-warm teapot from where it sat between them, making himself another cup quietly.

"You don't care that I'm a Werewolf?" Lupin whispered, startling Harry.

"What?" Harry said, carefully setting down his cup before he dropped it.

"Most children your age wouldn't be sitting where you are right now," Lupin began, relaxing back in his chair. Harry saw the man's ruse in the tightness of his shoulders, the tick of his jaw, the sound of his foot tapping on the floorboards.

Harry stared into those amber eyes as Lupin continued. "Most children are scared of what I am, what I could do. What I’m capable of doing to them. Not a single child would willingly put themselves in the custody of a monster,"

Harry shook his head, his bright green eyes looking into Lupin's with something so raw he felt his chest crack.

"You aren't a monster," Harry said. Lupin didn't scoff or dismiss Harry’s words, for which Harry was grateful, but he saw the flash of disagreement before it was hidden quickly.

"I know monsters," Harry continued, fingers tapping in a simple rhythm on the rim of his cup. "Monsters don't have fangs or talons or scales. Monsters don't spend weeks and months teaching a single student an advanced spell to stop them from hearing their mother begging a psychopath to spare her child. To stop him from watching her die over and over. Monsters don't spend every moment they can trying to protect others from those who threaten them and put themselves in harm's way to do it. Monsters don't become what they are on a full moon. I know monsters, Professor Lupin. You are not one of them,"

Lupin stared at Harry with so much vulnerability in his eyes that Harry wanted to turn away. Something stopped him. He didn't know if it was the idea that if he looked away, the professor wouldn't believe him or if he wanted to see the emotions that took over the man's face, but he kept their eyes locked.

"I want you to be my Guardian, Professor," Harry said. He let the words hang for a moment before finally turning his gaze to his cup and taking a long sip.

Lupin fell into a bout of silence again before suddenly saying, "Alright,” startling Harry slightly. A drop of tea splashed onto the saucer.

"Alright?" Harry asked, his teacup clinking as he set it down. He tried not to let his apprehension show as Lupin took a breath.

"Alright... I'll be your Guardian," Lupin agreed, smiling softly as Harry slowly let himself smile with relief. He hadn't expected him to decide today, but this worked out much better than he’d hoped.

"Really?! Thank you so–!"

"But," Lupin broke in, freezing the expression on Harry's face. A seed of doubt sprouted within his gut. He should have known. No adult did something without something in return.

"We're going to do this properly," he said, and Harry's brows scrunched in confusion. "You are going to live with me during the Summer," Lupin explained, making Harry's eyes bulge in surprise.

"What?! But—" Harry began but was stopped by Lupin raising a finger to wait.

"If I am going to be your Guardian, I will be responsible for your health and well-being. During the Summer, we'll work on your homework and studying, and I'll teach you how to defend yourself properly," Lupin tapped his finger on the wooden table as he spoke, making his points final.

"But... I don't want to be a burden to you," Harry said, worriedly biting his bottom lip. "I'm good at looking after myself if that's what you're worried about! I'm independent!"

"I'm sure you are very self-sufficient, Harry, but you are not and won't ever be a burden to me," Lupin responded calmly.

"Then... why?" Harry asked hopelessly. No adult had ever done this. Sirius' offer from a week ago was the only thing that came close, and that wasn't a realistic offer, not when the man was still a wanted fugitive on the run and had serious issues he needed to work through. He doubted the man had grown up since he'd been thrown into Azkaban, barely a few years out of Hogwarts.

"It's a selfish reason," Lupin said, startling Harry. He looked into the man's eyes and saw something sombre there.

"I should have fought for custody of you when everything fell apart. When James and Lily were killed... when Sirius was taken to Azkaban... I'd heard from Lily how horrible her sister was to her, but whenever I asked Dumbledore, he soothed my fears and told me how well you were doing with your relatives, that you were somewhere safe and that the fewer people who knew where you were, the better. I admit that the destruction of my pack in a single night broke something in me, and I spiralled for a long time. When I came to my senses, Dumbledore refused to tell me where you were.

"I sent you many letters but never got a response, and so when I saw you on the train, I thought you wanted to ignore me, that you were upset with me when you didn't talk to me like I'd hoped you would. I accepted that. Only when you had tea with me the first time did I realise you had no idea who I was. I confronted Dumbledore, but he only said you would have been heartbroken. I dropped it but feared he might be right and that you were doing well without me, so I kept a distance as best I could while still trying to help you.

"Then everything happened with Peter and Sirius, and you discovered I was a Werewolf. I thought you would hate me... find me repulsive, but I was wrong. I nearly killed you, and you still wished me to stay, to teach when I'm a dangerous beast. To take you in when every Full moon I'll have to leave you alone to keep you safe.

"I want to make up for years of neglect and abandonment. You are my pack... If you don't mind being on your own during Full Moons, I'd be overjoyed to take you in,"

Harry was holding back the tears glistening in his vibrant green eyes. The man in front of him had been suffering and punishing himself for nearly thirteen years.

"You tried to find me?" Harry croaked, his voice clogged with emotion.

Lupin's scarred smile was sad but genuine. "I never stopped trying to contact you, to find you, no matter how long I was left unanswered. You were why I agreed to Dumbledore's proposal to be the Defence teacher. He promised I would be teaching you, so I agreed. He said you were happy but wanted to keep your distance from me as he said it was too painful for you. But now... I have many doubts."

Harry opened his mouth to ask about these doubts but closed it. He didn't want to open that can of worms if the guilty look in amber eyes was anything to consider.

"Okay, Professor," Harry said. "I understand and accept your reason. I'll stay with you after we're finished at Gringotts,"

Lupin nodded his head and extended a hand for the folder. Harry pushed it over and retrieved the pen he'd kept from his stash of stolen goods from Dudley's broken school supplies. Lupin read through the documents much slower and more meticulously than Vernon had.

He raised his hand to sign as Vernon had when he paused and glanced at Harry. Harry hadn't realised he'd been leaning against the table, tapping his fingers incessantly and quickly stopped. He crossed his arms so they were leaning on the table and tried to stem the emotions rising to his face.

Lupin matched his gaze with Harry's as if trying to read Harry's mind before nodding to himself.

"Oh, and Harry," Lupin said.

"Hmm?" Harry questioned, eagerly looking at the documents, his feet swinging impatiently.

"Call me Remus," The pen dipped, and Lupin started signing.

~~~

A half-hour later, they walked into Gringotts side by side, Lupin holding the folder carefully like glass. Harry walked behind him, dragging along his trunk with ten different thoughts swirling in his head. A stray thought rose amongst the others: he wondered when the trunk would finally collapse.

They approached a goblin stamping documents behind a podium, the small name plaque reading Teller Garbtore. Harry was about to open his mouth when Lupin touched his shoulder. Harry resisted flinching at the sudden touch as he lifted his gaze to Lupin’s, a question in his eyes that Lupin answered with a subtle shake of his head.

They waited a minute, silent and patient, even though Harry wondered why they'd not announced their presence before the Goblin looked up from his work and scrutinised them over his thin spectacles.

"How can I be of assistance?" Teller Garbtore growled, his voice rough like rocks. Lupin removed his hand from Harry's shoulder and gave him a nod.

"Um, hello. I would like to speak to my account manager. Um... Master Blordak. I received this letter from him," He removed it from his trunk and slid it onto the counter.

The goblin peered at the brief note before looking back at the two wizards. He sneered. "Is this your guardian then?"

"Yes, sir," Harry responded, taking a barely noticeable step closer to the man, hackles raising at the goblin's expression.

"Hm. Very well," Teller Garbtore grumbled dismissively, swiping his clawed hand across a strange mark on his high desk; he spoke quickly in a harsh language Harry suspected to be Gobbledegook, the language of the Goblin Race, to a small goblin that popped into view from around the back of the desk.

Harry didn't know why he thought so, but this Goblin seemed young, maybe an adolescent. Harry shook the floating thought and listened as Teller Garbtore spoke, this time in growling English, which Harry realised was more due to his original tongue than any genuine emotion the goblin might have been embellishing.

"Follow this young one to Master Blordak's Office. He has been expecting your visit for quite some time. Good day," Teller Garbtore said.

They were dismissed as the Teller resumed reading and stamping various documents before him, just as the other Goblins did while not hounded by busy Wixen.

Harry stumbled through words of gratitude as the young Goblin rushed off toward a pair of large stone doors behind the podiums of Tellers. Harry and Lupin quickly followed, their longer legs helping them catch up to the short steps of the goblin. They walked past door after door, various names scribed on the plaques flashing past. The little Goblin carried on, the doors becoming older, more stylised and worn as they sped down the neverending hallway.

Finally, they stopped in front of a door in a circular room at the end of the hallway. It was surrounded by other doors that were boarded up and the plaques removed. The thought that he should not have been so trusting of the goblins passes over him before the thought jumps out of his head as Lupin sets a hand on his shoulder.

Harry glances back, seeing the wary look in the man's eye and the determination to see it through beside him. Harry feels something alien settle in his chest. He furrowed his brow as he turned back to where the little Goblin had knocked on the only unblocked door, perplexed at the feeling growing in his body.

Before Harry could think more about it, a harsh word came through the thick, dark wood, and the little goblin opened the door, bobbing his head to them and scuttling off. Harry gulped, taking strength from the hand on his shoulder as he stepped through the doorway.

He's met with a stern-looking goblin sitting behind a desk made of a light wood Harry doesn't recognise. The grains amongst the light-coloured wood seemed dyed blood red. Harry thought it was slightly morbid but still quite nice how it was carved and varnished as he walked further into the room, hearing Lupin's soft steps following him.

The desk held strange artefacts, stacks of documents, and an elegant plaque named 'Manager Blordak'. Harry expected to see filing cabinets lining the walls as he'd seen in Muggle banks, but he was instead met with elegantly crafted wardrobe-like furniture, housing more artefacts than even Dumbledore's office had, but not a single portrait decorated the walls. The goblin waited as the two guests observed their surroundings, sitting behind his desk in a high-backed chair, the seat higher than Harry had expected a goblin to prefer.

"Sirs," Manager Blordak began, his voice solid and complex with what Harry was coming to realise was a distinct Goblin accent. “I'm to believe you are my client accompanied by your Guardian." The Goblin didn't ask. He stated the facts, gesturing for Harry and Lupin to sit in the seats opposite himself.

Harry nodded, not looking into the Goblin's beady eyes as he sat. He sank into the cushion beneath him but did not let himself lean back. He kept his arms on the armrests to hold himself up as he answered promptly. Lupin sat on the chair beside him.

"Yes, sir. I was given your letter last summer, but I could not contact you properly as my magical guardians had not revealed themselves to me. My Muggle Guardians... I don't trust them to keep their hands out of my vaults," Harry said.

"Hmm," the goblin hummed, glancing at Lupin with an enquiring look in his beady black eyes. "And this man? Is he your new guardian?"

"Yes, sir. We have the documents for confirmation. If you approve and lodge them, Prof- Remus will be my official Guardian by Law. Is that alright?" Harry said quickly, taking the folder from Lupin and handing it over.

Master Blordak took a moment to read through the documents, noting the signatures and the distinct scent of Veritaserum that wafted when the folder opened. Harry bounced his knees, the heel of his ratty old trainers tapping soundlessly on the plush red rug.

"Can you swear on your magic that this, Vernon Dursley, was informed of who would be taking guardianship of you and that he was of sound mind and health?" Master Blordak asked, causing Harry to furrow his eyebrows at the strange words.

"I swear," Harry agreed. He felt something like an invisible blanket fall over his shoulders like it could crush him in a moment. His eyes snapped up to the Goblin, shock clear as he opened his mouth to ask what was happening.

"Your magic is being held in proxy for the truth of your words. The Veritaserum is necessary, but it can be worked around. If what you have said is true, state the following words," Master Blordak said, making Harry nod his head quickly, hating the feeling settling over him. "I swear on my magic that Vernon Dursley's mental, physical and spiritual state is accurate, that he was informed who would be taking me in and gave his complete consent. So mote it be,"

Harry repeated the words and felt a second where the magic pushed against him before backing off, and he breathed a great sigh of relief.

"Very well," Master Blordak said, nodding his head and pulling out a quill to sign a small witness statement at the bottom of the document. With a tap of his long, sharp claw, the documents disappeared, and Master Blordak looked back up at them. "Congratulations, Mister Lupin, you have been given guardianship of this young man,"

Lupin blinked before looking at Harry, who was grinning widely.

"Next, we shall prove your identity?" Master Blordak interrupted, causing Harry's smile to falter.

"Prove my identity?" he asked.

"Of course. I can not discuss the House of Potter's financial and political situation with anyone without verifying that they are not imposters. Do you think me incompetent, child?" Master Blordak raised a bushy eyebrow.

Harry shook his head quickly, his pitch-black mess of hair flopping chaotically. "No, sir." The Goblin made a harumph of noise and pulled out a large, thick sheet of parchment and a small silver bowl from his topmost drawer. From a small box on the desk, he took out a small crystal vial with an iridescent white liquid and a tiny round black-coloured berry.

The goblin spoke again while pouring the potion into the bowl and adding the berry.

"Prick your finger and allow seven drops of blood to fall into the bowl. No more and no less," He laid a thin silver dagger closest to Harry and Lupin on the desk. Harry barely took a second of confused hesitation before he picked up the dagger and unflinchingly pricked his finger.

He squeezed the tip until seven drops had landed in the mixture with satisfying plinks.

"Very good. Now, repeat the following: Revelare Hereditatem Meam. Take out your wand," Master Blordak instructed, and Harry furrowed his brows. He looked to Lupin, who seemed equally perplexed.

"Um, Sir? Won't the Trace be alerted that I used Magic outside of school?" Harry asked, looking back at the Goblin.

The goblin looked at Harry, his sneer looking more confused than upset. The goblin turned to Lupin but found the same confusion in Harry, so he took a great sigh, two long fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"The Trace is a myth," he stated bluntly, startling the two wizards with twin looks of shock.

"What!?" Lupin spluttered, almost falling out of his chair from how far he was leaning.

"But...! But I got a warning letter before my second year when a house elf used a hover charm in my Aunt's home! And Minister Fudge knew what happened to Aunt Marge last year when I got really angry and accidentally blew her up! How can the Trace be a myth?!" Harry asked, feeling his hands shake as questions filled his head.

The Goblin's expression seemed to age as he sighed. "The Trace was a lie created by the Ministry and a few of the Pureblood Families in the Wizengamot to discourage the use of underage magic outside of school. Most of the older Pureblood Families know and supervise their children's magic use at home and even hire tutors over the summer. The lie was mainly intended towards children in Muggle homes to protect the statute of secrecy. The ministry relies on having ministry officials monitor those homes and report it to the Improper Use of Magic Office so they can decide whether it should be classified as a slap on the wrist or a Fine.

"Those times when the ministry discovered your use of magic at your relatives were only discovered because they were reported. I do not know if there were any wards or charms placed around the house to detect such magic, but there should be nothing on your person that the ministry can use to track your magic,"

Harry took in a deep breath.

"Someone was watching me," he felt a shiver crawl down his spine. "Someone has been watching me..." he felt his chest constrict and had to pinch his inner forearm to keep his focus. He didn't look at Lupin even as he felt the man’s gaze.

"Yes," Master Blordak said bluntly. "Most likely,"

Harry nodded and tried to control his breathing again. He ignored the looks he got as he took his wand out from where he'd locked it in his trunk and turned back to the forgotten potion on the desk.

"Revelare Hereditatem Meam," he chanted and watched as the berry sank into the swirling pearly pink mixture before a deep purple bled into the liquid.

Master Blordak took the bowl and, without preamble, tipped it onto the large sheet of parchment. Harry jumped back, thinking it would splash, but the liquid spread like a large puddle before sinking into the parchment, leaving it cleanly blank.

Harry shuddered at the memory of a diary that absorbed any liquid it touched and responded. He controlled himself enough to prevent taking a step back when words rose from the parchment in the shimmering violet colour of the potion.

He didn't try to read what it said from his angle. Instead, he watched the Goblin as his eyes roamed down, minute twitches in the eyebrows and a tightening around the mouth the only giveaway to the Goblin's sudden displeasure.

A horrifying thought fluttered through Harry's mind.

'Am I not Harry Potter?'

He glanced anxiously at Lupin, finding the man looking between Harry, the Goblin and the parchment worriedly. Harry didn't understand why, but he felt marginally better at the display of nerves, never having anyone to worry on his behalf in the past.

"Heir Potter," The Goblin began, startling Harry into turning forward and taking his eyes off his new Guardian. "Your identity has been verified, so I may now introduce myself. I am Master Blordak, Manager of The Noble and Ancient House of Potter and The Most Noble and Most Ancient House Of Peverell," the Goblin said.

"Peverell?" Lupin spoke up, leaning forward. "What is an extinct Magical Line do connected to Harry and the Potters?"

Harry nodded slowly, agreeing with the question, though he had no idea who the Peverells were.

"And what's this about Heirs and Noble and Ancient Houses?" Harry asked, making Lupin look at him just as strangely as the Goblin was. Harry felt very small and ignorant. Master Blordak growled and spoke.

"Did you read none of the letters I've sent you? On that note, why have you failed to attend the appointments we have set up for you before now?" Master Blordak asked. Harry would've been shaking from the glare the Goblin plastered him with if he could sense any genuine fury directed at him from the terrifying creature. Instead, all Harry felt was dubious and growing confusion.

"I've not received any letters or appointments from Gringotts. I've only visited a few times: when I was eleven with Hagrid, in my second year with Mrs Weasley and again last year while I was staying in Diagon. The other goblins gave me your letter and said I had to bring my Guardian, but I wasn't exactly on the best terms with them, so I had to wait till now," Harry could slowly feel frustration emanating from the Goblin across from him as he continued.

"The first letter I received was my Hogwarts letter, and besides the letters from my friends, I've only received one from the ministry because of Dobby. How am I supposed to respond to something I've never received!" Harry hadn't realised the trinkets around the room vibrated until he finished his rant and felt Lupin's large palm on his shoulder.

He pushed back the memories of his Uncle's hand in the same place, shoving him into walls or onto his knees as pain exploded along his back–... he took in a deep breath and let the touch comfort him even as he swallowed down the bile creeping up his throat.

"Your guardian should have received those letters and attended the appointment with you," Master Blordak argued. Harry resisted rolling his eyes. He felt like he'd had this conversation a hundred times.

"Aunt Petunia is a muggle; if she got any letters, they're likely burnt now. She would have never come to Diagon anyway, let alone Gringotts. And I have no idea who my previous magical guardian was! They never introduced themselves to me, so I don't know where to start."

Master Blordak gave a great sigh and shook his head.

"There is nothing we can do now. Wait here, I need to make some enquiries regarding your results. Read your test, and we will continue our discussion when I return," the Goblin left Harry and Lupin in the large office full of sparkling artefacts. Harry took the parchment, angling it so Lupin didn't have to look over his shoulder too much.

---

INHERITANCE TEST

June 27th, 1994

---

TRUE NAME: Nil

GIVEN NAME: Hadrian Jameson Evans-Potter

KNOWN NAME: Harry James Potter

PARENTAGE BY BLOOD:

• Mother: Liliana Joy Potter (nee Evans) Deceased

• Father: James Fleamont Potter Deceased

FAMILY VIA BLOOD ADOPTION: N/A

CREATURE INHERITANCE: N/A

GODPARENTS:

• Lord Sirius Orion Black Incarcerated in Azkaban - Escaped - Ineligible

• Lady Alice Fiona Longbottom (nee Fortescue) Long Term Hospice Care, St Mungo's Janus Thickey Ward - Ineligible

MAGICAL GUARDIAN:

• Liliana Joy Potter (nee Evans) & James Fleamont Potter: 31st July 1980 - 31st October 1981

• Sirius Orion Black & Alice Fiona Longbottom (nee Fortescue): 31st October 1981 - 1st November 1981

• Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore: 1st November 1981 - 27th June 1994

• Remus Lyall Lupin: 27th June 1994 - Present Day

TITLES & CONQUESTS

• Warrior: Basilisk Slayer - Age 12

• Heir Potter-Peverell-Black-Slytherin

HOUSES & HEIRSHIPS BY BLOOD

• Heir to The Most Noble and Most Ancient House Of Peverell Paternal Bloodline

• Heir to The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black Paternal Bloodline

• Heir to The Noble and Ancient House of Potter Paternal Bloodline

• Heir to the Noble and Ancient House of Slytherin Maternal Bloodline

• Blood Relations to the Noble and Ancient House of Gryffindor Paternal Bloodline

• Blood Relations to the Noble and Ancient House of Ravenclaw Maternal Bloodline

HOUSES & HEIRSHIPS BY CONQUEST

• Heir via Inherited Conquest to the Once Noble House of Gaunt

VAULTS

• Vault 3 - Peverell Heirloom Vault: Unaccessible until emancipation

• Vault 4 - Peverell Monetary Vault: Unaccessible until emancipation

• Vault 386 - Slytherin Heirloom Vault: Unaccessible until emancipation

• Vault 685 - Potter Heirloom Vault: Unaccessible until emancipation

• Vault 686 - Potter Monetary Vault: Unaccessible until emancipation

• Vault 687 - Potter Trust Vault: Maximum withdrawal of 100 G/year

• Vault 710 - Black Heirloom Vault: Unaccessible until emancipation

• Vault 711 - Black Monetary Vault: Unaccessible until emancipation

• Vault 712 - Black Trust Vault: Recurring deposits into Vault 687

• Vault 812 - Gaunt Monetary Vault: Empty

• Vault 1783 - Lily Evans Vault: Accessible upon 11th Birthday

ACCESSIBLE HEIRLOOMS BEFORE ADULTHOOD

• Cloak of Invisibility

• Peverell Grimoire

• Potter Grimoire

• Black Grimoire

• Peverell Heir Ring

• Potter Heir Ring

• Black Heir Ring

• Slytherin Heir Ring

PROPERTIES

• Peverell: Hallows Cottage Unplottable Charm, Seance Manor Unplottable Charm, No. 333 Oalde Way - Diagon Alley Unplottable Charm

• Potter: Potter Manor Unplottable Charm, Brewery Town House, No. 7 Godrics Hollow Fidelius Charm

• Black: 12 Grimmauld Place Unplottable Charm, Etoile Manor Unplottable Charm

• Slytherin: Hogwarts Dungeons, The Chamber of Secrets, Basilisk's Refuge Unplottable Charm

CORE & FAMILY MAGIC

• Sylvar Core Partially Blocked

• Peverell Inheritance: Peverell Necromancy Blocked & Restricted*, Mage Sense Blocked, Peverell Family Magic Blocked

• Potter Inheritance: Potter Family Magic Blocked, Potter Hair Curse

• Black Inheritance: Black Family Magic Blocked

• Slytherin Inheritance: Parseltongue Blocked - PartiallyBroken, Parselmagic Blocked, Slytherin Family Magic Blocked

THE LAST LIVING WILL AND TESTAMENT OF JAMES FLEAMONT POTTER & LILIANA JOY POTTER (NEE EVANS): Sealed 0823 hours, November 1st, 1981, by Wizengamot Vote

WARDS CURRENTLY IN EFFECT

• Mail Ward: Keyed to allow letters from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Professor McGonagall, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, Sirius Black, Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger and The Weasley Family - Cast by Unknown

• Reliance Protection Ward: Keyed between Hadrian Jameson Evans-Potter and Petunia Dursley (nee Evans) - Cast by Unknown - Broken

• Blood Protection: Keyed to Hadrian Jameson Evans-Potter from Tom Marvolo Riddle - Cast by Liliana Joy Potter (nee Evans)

---

BASIC HEALTH SCAN

Hadrian James Evans-Potter

---

OVERALL HEALTH

• Very Poor + Extreme Foreign Contamination

• Immediate Healing is Required

• Extreme Potion Regime is Recommended

• Immediate Cleansing is Recommended

• Diagnostic Ritual is Recommended

PHYSICALLY

• Scared Tissue - 50%

• Bone Weakness - 45%

• Fatigue

• Pain - 45%

• Malnourishment - 60%

BLOCKS - Core Block - Cast by Unknown - Deteriorating because of Basiliscus Corrumpebant Elixir

• Sylvar Core: Blocked 80% Partially Broken - Currently 65%

• Family Magics: Blocked 100% Partially Broken - Currently 85%

• Parselmagic: Blocked 100% - Currently 100%

• Parseltongue: Blocked 100% Partially Broken - Currently 50%

• Mage Sense: Blocked 100% Partially Broken - Currently 85%

• Peverell Necromantic Magic: Blocked 100% Restricted* - Currently 100%

• Focus: Blocked 100% Partially Broken - Currently 60%

COMPULSIONS - Cast by Unknown

• Operam Defectubus - Attention Deficit Compulsion

• Fidesium Maxima - Strong Loyalty Compulsion - Keyed to Albus Dumbledore

• Confido Maxima - Strong Trust Compulsion - Keyed to Albus Dumbledore & Molly Weasley

• Familia Amare - Familial Love Compulsion - Keyed to The Dursleys Broken, Albus Dumbledore & Molly Weasley

• Odium Maxima - Strong Hatred Compulsion - Keyed to Severus Snape & Slytherin House

• Impedimenta Incrementum - Impeding Health & Growth Curse

POTIONS

• Falsum Nutrimentum Nutrient Weakening Potion

TOXINS/VENOMS/POISONS

• Basilisk Venom - Neutralised by Pheonix Tears — Basiliscus Corrumpebant Elixir

PARASITES

• Soul Shard* - Tom Marvolo Riddle - Contained by Liliana Joy Potter (nee Evans) - Currently 75% effective - Weakening - Restricting Necromancy Magics

A diagnostic ritual is recommended to check the patient's complete health status.

Harry reread the pearlescent words until they became engraved on his eyelids. He hadn't realised he'd stopped breathing until he felt a large hand encase his shoulder and shake him—a voice called to him, as though from very far away.

Contrary to what the gesture was meant to do, Harry flung himself away from the looming figure.

"Get away!" He cried, pressing himself into the stone walls of the office, feeling the world spin around him.

"Harry?"

He shook his head, his fingers slipping into his hair as he pulled at the jet-black strands with a viciousness he was accustomed to. He took comfort in the pain and cried out when someone tried to stop him.

'Trust him. Trust Dumbledore. He knows best.' A voice like a haunting symphony rose in his head.

"No! No! No! No! No! He lied to me! They all lied to me!" he screamed as a rattling sound invaded the room. Distantly, he was aware that his magic was creating havoc in the office, but he was focused internally. His mind was suddenly consumed with the awareness of a roiling mass of disgusting magic, like thick tar, encircling something that was trying desperately to escape to respond to Harry's anger and distress.

'The Blocks,' Harry realised and heard someone screaming. He fell to his knees, his scalp aching from his grip on his hair. He squeezed his eyes shut as his glasses slipped from the bridge of his nose.

The vertigo did not abate with his sight loss, and he found himself expelling the tea and scones he and Lupin had eaten at the little cafe.

He wanted to curse Albus Dumbledore. The test had not said who had put those blocks on him, but he knew of only one person who had had access to him that fateful night. He knew only one powerful enough to put so many blocks and spells on him that put the man in his favour.

He wanted to destroy the man even as a voice whispered in a sickly sweet croon; 'Trust him; he protects you; he knows best. He only wants to help you,'.

"Shut up!" He screamed as the voices rose in volume, their words coating his mind even as he shook and screamed, desperate to be in control. "He lied to me! He controlled my entire life! Shut up!" he howled.

Suddenly, two arms wrapped around him, stable and strong despite the tremble that shook the owner's frame. Harry inhaled to scream, to fight, his mind flashing images of large boys holding him to the ground, legs ploughing into his most vulnerable places as he took it all quietly and obediently. His skin prickled as it always did when others touched him.

Then he caught the smell. It was a mixture of things Harry could identify with such clarity he instead let out a broken sob into a broad shoulder but refused to release any tears. He inhaled deeper, taking in the soothing smell of parchment and books, the muskiness of bark and pelt, and the subtle bitter sweetness of chocolate.

Harry shook in the strong arms, holding tight to a firm chest, lean and muscled despite the hard edges of bones. Harry let go of his hair to grip the patchy tweed jacket in his fingers like he wanted to rip it. His body trembled worse than when he was faced with Dementors.

"He-he-!" Harry stuttered into Lupin's shoulder. He felt a large hand settle onto the back of his head, combing through his hair in a way Harry couldn't remember ever experiencing before and found his words. "What did he do to me?" He keened, voice hoarse and defeated. He wondered if he should feel embarrassed, gripping this man's shoulder like a child.

A more prominent voice that sounded oddly like Hermione told him he never got to be a child and should take the opportunity. So he let himself be held even as he refused the relief of tears. He let the man grip him tightly as if he thought Harry would disappear.

"I never knew my name," Harry whispered, his entire being shattering upon the realisation. "Hadrian Evans. I was never Harry Potter," His voice cracked, and he buried his nose into the jacket, tucking his face into Lupin's neck as a traitorous tear slipped past his ironclad defences. He greedily inhaled the man's scent, trying to ground him as his head pounded angrily.

"I'm so sorry," Lupin said, and Harry shook his head.

"You didn't know," He said, his voice crackling like embers. "It's not your fault,"

"I know. I'm sorry," Lupin said, and Harry sighed. "I was at your naming celebration," Lupin admitted quietly. Harry lifted his head and moved back slightly to look him in the eye. He found intense golden irises staring back, and wet trails ran down scarred bony cheeks.

"My Naming Celebration?" Harry asked.

Lupin smiled. It was small but relieved. "Mm... your mother insisted. It was a joint naming with your classmate, Mr Longbottom, as he was born a day before you,"

"Neville?" Harry whispered, eyes wide. Lupin nodded. "Our parents knew each other?"

"Your mothers were best friends and shared a dorm with a few other girls from our year. They were your mother's bridesmaids. They're all gone, now," Lupin didn't break eye contact, but his eyes dimmed with grief. "Lily was Neville's godmother, just as Alice is yours. At the celebration, they held the Godparent ceremony where each parent chose a single person with whom they trusted their child more than anyone else. Lily wanted it to be Alice and me, but James chose Sirius, as was his right, and that was that." Lupin shrugged.

"So... you're my honorary Godfather?" Harry asked, a slight tug at the corner of his lips.

Lupin smiled and nodded, "Something like that. Lily insisted that everyone call me Uncle Moony whenever you were around until one day, you kept babbling, 'Mooy'. She never let me live it down," He grinned as Harry saw the young man behind the curse and scars.

Lupin was handsome with short brown hair, bright amber eyes and a tall frame. If only he could get a decent night's sleep and rid himself of the grief and stress weighing down his shoulders. A good year's worth of meals couldn't hurt as well.

Lupin's expression was soft as he continued, his voice reminiscent. "They named you Hadrian Jameson Evans-Potter. James let Lily give you both their names, with the condition that your middle name follow the Potter tradition. She wanted to name you after her father, Henry, but fell in love with Hadrian, Latin for 'Dark Haired' because you came screaming into this world with a head of pitch-black hair. She thought it was hilarious,” He laughed, his eyes squinting.

"They were debating what nicknames to give you but could never come up with a decision. They called you whichever name they felt at the moment, wanting you to choose what your known name would be when you were a bit older. James liked Harry, while Lily loved Hadri. I was always partially to Hadi, meaning 'leader' or 'guide' in your Paternal Grandmother, Euphemia's, native tongue. Neither of your Grandparents lived long enough to meet you, but they would've both been honoured by your name."

Harry had remained silent, tucked in Lupin's arms as the man talked, and his heart slowed down. The Werewolf's deep cadence silenced the voice in his head, and he found himself leaning against his shoulder like a small child would. His skin itched at the feeling of another person's touch, but it was dull and muted as he soaked up the foreign warmth of affection.

He kept his eyes on Lupin's stubbly jaw as it moved and felt the vibrations of his voice through the man's chest. His glasses were foggy, and his eyes stung.

"Hadi... Hadri... Henry... I had so many choices, but someone chose Harry. The most English muggle-sounding name there is?" Harry asked derisively, even as Lupin chuckled.

"Yes, well, the child usually chooses their name upon their seventh birthday in a ceremony. When you continued being known as Harry Potter at school, we all thought you had chosen it. Many figured your carers had called you that, and you had accepted it," Lupin said.

Harry ducked his head, not wanting Lupin to see the torrent of emotions in his eyes. He wondered if his known name could've been Boy or Freak if he hadn't been told his name when he started primary school and his relatives had to reveal his name. He wondered if they had been told his Given name and had decided to call him a typical English name instead of one linked to the wizarding world, or had they been told that was his name as well?

Suddenly, they heard the creak of a door opening and looked up to a group of Goblins entering the office.

Harry pushed himself away from the comforting embrace even as he had to scold himself for wanting to absorb more of the man's warmth and affection, even though he was unused to it. He found that he wanted more once he tasted what parental affection was supposed to feel like.

He shook his head and turned to the goblins and the room. It was wrecked. Various bits and bobs had been thrown across the ground. Beside where Lupin was rising to his feet was a small puddle of something vile that made Harry burn bright red.

"I'm sorry for the mess," Harry murmured. Master Blordak was at the front of the group and looked around the room dismissively before waving a clawed hand.

Harry watched as everything thrown from shelves was returned to their rightful places; the chairs were fixed from where his magic had shredded them, and even the puddle had vanished. Harry suddenly wanted to be able to do that, harness his magic with so much ease that he didn't need his wand or words.

"There is no need to apologise, Heir Potter. We understand that what you have learned today is beyond anything you, or we, could have imagined." Master Blordak said as he sat down behind his desk. With a small pop, five more chairs appeared in the room, making a circle that faced Harry. They sat down when Master Blordak waved, and Harry and Lupin followed.

"Heir Potter, Mister Lupin, I have brought the heads of the Ritual and Curse-breaking departments, Masters Spearbeak and Rickshaw, respectfully, and their seconds in command, Bloodgore and Steelclaw, along with our Head Healer, Matron Ragnok. With your consent, we can set up a Ritual to remove the blocks, compulsions, curses and potions within the hour. One is already being set up as we speak,"

Harry swallowed around the lump in his throat and nodded his head vigorously. "Yes," he said desperately. "Please! Please get rid of them! All of them!" He pleaded.

Master Blordak inclined his head, "Of course, Heir Potter; however, we must also get consent from your Guardian, as you are underage and still a minor. Mister Lupin, will you consent to this for Heir Potter?"

Lupin was already looking at him when Harry turned to face the man. He could see his reflection in the Werewolf's amber eyes. He could see the desperation in his reflection as Lupin's eyes traced Harry's face.

Lupin breathed through his nose, "What will happen to him?" He asked, not taking his gaze from Harry. Harry blinked at the question, his brows furrowing.

"What does that matter?" He asked, bewildered. "I don't care what they do as long as they get it out of me." He growled, glaring at the man who didn't flinch.

'There's nothing wrong with you. You don't need this. Trust in Dumbledore.' Harry shook his head at the whispering in his ear.

"Stop that!" He snapped, making the goblins around the room give him varying looks.

Before Lupin could say anything, Master Blordak spoke again. "The ritual will invoke magic to strip him of all magic, not his own. Due to the number and estimated length of time the spells have been on him, there will be extreme pain. They have likely mutated, and there have been cases in the past where people have been overwhelmed and died from the agony. As long as Heir Potter can hold out for a few hours, the Strength of his Will should keep him alive,"

"What's the rate of survival?" Lupin asked.

"Forty Percent,"

Lupin frowned at the words and closed his eyes tightly. It looked like he was waging a war in his mind even as Harry reached out and took the man's hand. Lupin's eyes snapped open to show them glowing again.

Harry was careful not to show how uncomfortable the feeling of ants crawling across his skin made him. He looked pleadingly up at his ex-professor. "Please, Remus. I don't care how much it will hurt. I want to be free. I want to know who I am under all these spells. Please."

Harry saw the moment Lupin broke. He closed his eyes and let out a pained sigh that confused Harry.

"Is this really what you want?" He asked. Harry nodded.

"It is,"

"Alright," Remus agreed, and Harry's face erupted into the most gigantic smile he thought he'd ever had. Never had the thought of pain made him so happy.

"Thank you!" He said, launching at Lupin without letting his anxiety take a chance to question the out-of-character action. "Thank you so much!" Lupin's hand came to hold him, his grip firm and trembling slightly.

"Very well. We need Mister Lupin to sign these documents while Heir Potter gets an examination from Matron Ragnok before the procedure. If you could follow Matron Ragnok, Heir Potter, she will take you to a private room, and you both will meet us in the ritual chamber," Master Blordak said, and Harry jumped from his chair as the only female goblin raised from her chair and rushed from the room.

Harry followed and was subjected to several long minutes of silence before they entered a room similar to the hospital wing at Hogwarts, but instead of brick and wood, the walls were made of thick stone.

He was directed to sit on the empty bed and took a deep breath, letting the Matron wave her clawed hands around him as she muttered in Gobbledygook. She frowned and growled, something Harry couldn't hope to translate as the sounds were like rocks being thrown at one another.

She turned her attention to a cabinet stocked with different-coloured potions, pulled out a single one and set it on his bedside table.

"You are severely malnourished, Little Wizard and many bones have not healed correctly. I'm surprised your bones aren't dust with how brittle they are, but I see you've been given Skele-Gro within the last two years. It's helped with the worst damage but has not fixed the underlying issue. You are far below the necessary weight and height percentile for your age group. Once this procedure has been completed, you will be under my care until I deem you healthy enough. Is that understood?" Matron Ragnok spoke with a growl and a hard stare so reminiscent of Madame Pomfrey that Harry could only nod feebly under the steely Matron's glare.

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said, taking the potion handed to him quickly and downing it, not desiring further ire. He gagged at the thick sludge, tasting like metal shavings and dried coriander.

"I wish to start working on your care plan; however, giving you anything now would be a waste due to the ritual, so this body-fortifying potion must do the job. It should last a few hours in the ritual before it is wiped away, allowing your body to last as long as your resolve to survive does. What little magic that has forced itself through the blocks is the only thing that is keeping your body from breaking down and is likely the reason you have not died in your sleep a dozen times through your childhood,"

As he looked down at himself, Matron Ragnok's words hit him like a Hippogriff. His too-large second-hand clothes swamped his skeletal frame, making him look like a homeless child playing dress up. The rope tied around his waist, holding his pants in place, didn't help the image.

Some of his fingers were bent slightly as he raised his hands to examine them, not paying attention to Matron Ragnok chanting around him. He'd always known that these fingers were the reason behind his atrocious handwriting and wondered if the Matron could fix them.

He decided he would ask her after she undoubtedly kidnaps him after the ritual and straps him into one of the many beds around him.

"Alright, Little Wizard, there's nothing more I can do without wasting our time. Giving you anything else is wasteful; the ritual will waste energy, clearing it from your system when it should focus on the important things. Change into these, and we'll go to the Ritual Chambers. They should have finished setting everything up by now," Matron Ragnok interrupted his thoughts before handing him a folded pile of eggshell blue bathrobes.

Matron Ragnok gave him some privacy, and he quickly changed, dumping Dudley's cast-offs on the floor. If he survived this ritual, he would purchase an entire wardrobe and dispose of the clothes, preferably with fire.

'When,' He reminded himself.

He found a single mirror in the corner of the room, and when he turned to call Matron Ragnok back, he saw a small boy in the two-piece linen bathrobe and ankle-high pants gazing back at him. He looked closer to twelve than thirteen, nearly fourteen in a month.

His jet-black hair was wildly sticking up in every direction, longer than he'd ever let it grow. He debated if it was time for a trim, but the longer he looked at it, the more he wondered how it would be longer. Would length tame the wild curls? It almost covered his mother’s eyes, glowing a vibrant emerald green hidden behind unattractive round spectacles, barely held together by spellotape.

His skin, more darkly tanned than his peers, thanks to whatever ethnicity he’d inherited from whichever eastern European relative Harry'd never been told about, showed the lack of muscle and fat around his protruding bones from a childhood of being fed scraps and doing manual labour every day.

He'd always known he was skinny and weak, but to see himself with the knowledge that this had been purposefully done to keep him this way, that some had known and placed these potions and curses on him. Harry felt like vomiting again, even when there wasn't anything left inside his stomach.

Tieing the knee-high robe at his waist, he followed the Matron in a pair of pale blue slippers she left at the foot of the bed that Harry imagined was what clouds must feel like as she led him into the bowels of Gringotts.

~~~

Harry felt sweat bead on his forehead when they passed through the ceiling-high doors of the Ritual Chamber. A cavernous room stretched in a circular shape; the walls dug out slightly to show small alcoves holding strange little objects covered in symbols and writing he couldn't identify from where he was.

Carved into the floor was what Harry assumed was a giant ritual circle. More symbols and writing were carved into the smooth stone beneath him, and like an afterthought, he thought he could feel a pulsing around the room.

He shook his head.

Two groups stood out to Harry as he continued his conspicuous observations. The larger group consisted of Goblins facing two elderly goblins and a single Wizard in Dark blue robes looming over them. Half the goblins wore grey robes, while the other half matched the wizard.

They seemed to be discussing the ritual as the two older Goblins, Harry recognised as the heads of the Ritual and Curse Breaking Departments, pointed about the room as though explaining what would happen where. The other group were five goblins sitting in a dugout hollow of the wall behind a visibly shimmering ward. They wore the White cloth of the Healing Department, and Harry breathed a bit easier. Harry noticed Remus leaving the dugout and quickly approaching him when he saw they'd entered.

"Are you ready?" Remus asked as he stopped in front of him. His hands twitched while his eyes darted around Harry's face, looking for any sign of fear. Any sign of doubt.

"I'm ready," Harry answered determinedly, his eyes hard as steel. Remus let out a tight breath and nodded. He hesitated, body twitching before Matron Ragnok approached them from where Harry hadn't noticed her talking with Masters Spearbeak and Rickshaw.

"Little Wizard," She began, clawed hands on her waist as she glared up at him, "I'm going to be blunt with you, so I hope you take no offence,"

She waited for him to nod and continued, "We can’t give you anything for the pain, and trust me, child, there will be immense pain. The ritual is designed to cleanse as many foreign magics and substances from the vessel as possible, so anything we give you now will be useless and take up a bit of magic that could have been used elsewhere. We will constantly be monitoring your condition throughout the procedure, and should your heart give out, we will stop the ritual and proceed to resuscitate," Harry nodded, not acknowledging her last statement.

"You are aware of the mortality rate?" She questioned. Harry nodded.

"It's alright, Ma'am. I'm used to pain. Please, get rid of whatever they did to me," He said quietly, his voice echoing solemnly even to himself. "I-I don't want it in me anymore," His voice cracked, but he didn't care. He placed a hand over where he knew that creature was clutching its claws, hoarding something from him. "I want to be free of it,"

"We will, child, trust us," She took his hand, ignoring the involuntary flinch, and patted it warmly. Despite feeling the prickles along his skin, he felt warmth spread through him. He bit his lip, nodding as he wiped at his eyes. He smiled unconvincingly to the two and turned at the approach of three sets of footsteps.

"Heir Potter," a white-haired goblin began croaking, eyes hidden beneath prominent bushy eyebrows. Harry recognised him as Master Spearbeak. “We require you to relinquish yourself of all possessions. Anything that could even slightly affect the ritual must be behind the Healers' ward, including your clothing and glasses." Harry blushed brightly at that, feeling his ears and cheeks flame with embarrassment.

He felt Remus place a comforting hand on his shoulder and turn his head to find the man, who gave him a sympathetic grimace. "Once this is over, we'll never speak of it. I promise," He said. Harry's answering grin wavered but showed the depth of his gratitude.

"I understand you wizards think quite highly of your privacy and decency, but Goblins have no particular opinion on the matter; you'd be a far brighter shade of colour if you stepped foot in our grottos, young wizard, let me tell you that," The Elder Goblin went from professional courtesy to a cantankerous grandfather so fast it nearly gave Harry whiplash.

Slightly pink with mortification, Harry nodded along with the elder's words. The tall Wizard behind the goblin had his navy hood up, casting his face in shadow except for his mouth, which was twitching with restrained amusement. Harry thought he saw a flash of orange and something white dangling from the person's ear in the dim light but chose to ignore it, his mind already swirling with a hundred different things he couldn't perceive.

The voices were still badgering him not to go through with the ritual and not to trust non-human creatures, but thankfully, they were not targeting Remus.

He didn't know if it was because Dumbledore had wanted him to have some connection to his father through him or whatever other sick, twisted mind games the man was playing. Still, he took comfort in the only person the mutated compulsions weren't attacking.

Gratefully, the new Wizard and Goblins left him to undress in relative privacy. Remus was taken back into the dugout, safekeeping Harry's glasses, for which he was thankful.

A white shimmer indicated the safety ward, and the man sat with his gaze turned away from Harry. He felt no one watching him as he let the robe fall from his shoulders and slipped out of the pants and slippers, handing them to Matron Ragnok, who kept her gaze on Harry's bright red face.

He was then led to the middle of the ritual circle, his vision blurry. He felt disoriented and more vulnerable than he'd ever let himself be before anyone.

Still, the Goblins demonstrated a strange assurance that made Harry believe they wouldn't betray his trust. He was unsure about the Curse-Breaker; he assumed the Wizard in the Navy robes was, but he figured if the Goblins thought he was a necessary addition, it was the right thing to do.

He chose not to think about his Guardian for his sanity. This was more than he wished to show anyone, let alone his previous professor and honorary Godfather.

He kept his back turned to the dugout, forgetting the spattering of scars across his back, ranging from old scars his skin had slowly healed to varying thicknesses of white lines.

He did not catch the look on the faces of those around him as he stood in a body emaciated from malnourishment and abuse, far smaller than his peers. The Goblins drowned out a sound like a sub-vocal growl as they spoke to one another, and the final preparations were completed.

"Sit with your feet stretching this way," Master Sharpbeak directed, his blurry claw pointing towards what Harry identified as a black candle in the middle of a symbol surrounded by squiggles.

He did as instructed; his feet pointed to the candle as the Goblin held a bowl in Harry's line of sight. "Place five drops of blood in this dish. With each drop, you must repeat after me." Harry was handed a small dagger and did as asked, pricking his finger.

Harry repeated the words instructed to him as his blood dripped audibly around the room into the shallow dish.

"Maiden," drip, "Mother," drip, "Crone," drip, "Magic," drip, "Death," drip.

"Allow me strength, protection, and honour," he whispered. The pressure heightened, and phantom hands brushed against his arms, legs, back, and forehead, carding through his hair and scratching his scalp tenderly.

One hand felt cold, peaceful, and final. It promised relief and mercy from pain and suffering. Harry liked the feeling. It felt familiar.

Another hand was vibrant with life and warmth, not the energy of the living, but that of magic and possibilities. It reminded him of the short bursts of heat he'd feel whenever he cast a spell or did accidental magic.

The last was strange, ever-changing from ageing, shifting, maternal to admiring. Harry had never felt anything like it. He tried to place the feeling but came up blank, and he accepted the touches that didn't prickle at his skin.

He imagined his mother might've done this for him were she alive. Brushed his hair away from his face, patted his back and held him when he was sad, stroked his cheek when she just wanted to look at him.

A tear tracked down the side of his face before he quickly wiped it away, watching blurrily as Master Spearbeak hobbled away with the bowl containing his blood and tipped a small vial with a purple substance into it.

"We ask the deities to honour a child of Magic with a safe cleanse," The Master stopped to pour some of the mixture on each of the five candles around the circle, pausing to let the flames spark a different colour as if acknowledging his words.

"We ask the Maiden, Mother, Crone, Magic and Death to heal this child, for he is shackled; we beseech you, he is innocent," The flames flared unique colours of dawn blue, sunshine yellow, dusk red, enchanting violet and ashen silver with black flecks. "Lay down, Heir Potter, and we shall begin,"

Harry complied with the Elder Goblin's wishes, stretching out as a chant began around the room. It echoed hauntingly across the walls.

"You must stay awake, Heir Potter. You must fight the magic attached to your core and your mind. The more you fight, the more we can remove from you," Harry nodded, staring up at the ceiling that blended with the walls to reach a point directly above where he lay.

The chanting began. He felt immediate pressure build on his chest, directly over his Solar Plexus, like a lance was being pushed through his skin. He gritted his teeth as the feeling intensified until it pierced his body, searching for something within him.

It found what it was looking for. A spinning ball of tar in his chest was being repeatedly attacked by an iridescent substance glowing in acid green and phoenix red, orange and yellow. As the magic approached the acidic substance, it dispersed, floating away as though in fear, and instead took up residence in the surroundings of his chest, like it was watching what would happen next.

The roiling tar spun in his chest, and Harry was choking on his breath. The lance reached for the black sludge and grasped it in blinding white claws.

Harry flinched when the tar screamed and writhed inside him, black talons sinking into his body as the thing tried to remain within Harry. He held in his whimpers as the pain increased with the tar's struggle.

He growled internally at the tar, "Get out of me!" He didn't know if the words were shouted aloud or thought as all his attention became the ball of tar and the Lance of Magic pulling it away in crumbling clumps. Distantly, he felt an oily substance run down the sides of his chest to pool under his back, but he ignored it as he saw a slither of something shine brightly through the sludge before it was once more covered.

Something so beautiful in its iridescence that Harry nearly choked on his breath.

Determination flooded Harry as he reached for his magic. He saw the silver light pulse weakly beneath the sludge, another sliver revealing itself, and Harry reached for it. He called for his magic to expand, to fill his body and attack the disgusting tar leaching off his core.

Externally, The goblins and Curse-Breaker chanted while watching as the trickle of oil-like substance from the centre of his chest started flowing faster, leaking into the ritual circle's crevices before burning into a putrid-smelling smoke.

The Healer goblins, Master Blordak and Remus watched in horror as the child in the centre of the ritual stiffened under the pain, head tilted back in a silent scream as the liquid continued to drain from him.

Harry felt his magic becoming stronger and purer as more of the sludge was ripped from his core. Streaks of silver light flooded him, burning the sludge as it screamed. His stomach roiled as a clump of tar was pierced by his magic, the mass seething as the lance of magic helped eat away at it.

A black mist he'd never known existed, fogging his mind, blew away with a wave of magic from his core. He felt his mind clear, as if he could hear after being submerged underwater for too long.

All that remained was a small fraction of sludge and something small on his forehead. Harry focused on the sludge, distantly aware of the lance abandoning his core to investigate the fragment in his forehead.

The tar, feeling the loss of the lance, attempted to surge up, but Harry clamped his magic down on the vile substance, squeezing until all he could hear was the screams he hadn't realised he was producing echoing around him.

The sludge burned away, finally revealing his core. It swirled like Silver fluid, with strands of golden wisps floating off to explore his body. He could feel the magic moving through him, could feel the vibrant pulsing of his core and thought he was finally breathing for the first time in his miserable life.

The strange magical substance of acid and fire returned from where it watched the action to encompass his core, enveloping it in a warm shield that made Harry breathe easier.

He felt something he'd known was missing but could never identify had finally been returned to him. Like a piece of a puzzle he had long ago abandoned, it was finally clicking into place. He relaxed as magic raced through him, finally free and exhilarated. A small smile lit up his face.

Then, the Lance found his infamous scar.

His back arched from the floor as a scream rivalling a banshee escaped him. The goblins stumbled at the sudden sound, thinking everything had finally resolved, when the child had begun to smile until that scream had been unleashed.

The Wizard Curse-Breaker raced into the circle; the chant already stopped. His hood flung off, long orange hair escaping the garment and glowing in the dim light like a halo. Remus stood up and was barely holding himself back against the edge of the barrier as he watched the child, his cub, wail in agony.

"Shit! Get the healers!" The red-haired Curse-Breaker commanded, placing his hand over the scar of the small, broken boy, watching as blood leaked through his fingers.

Chanting in a different language than the previous Gobbledygook, the Curse-Breaker lifted two bloody fingers and traced an intricate pattern around the skin of the lightning bolt in the child's blood.

The room filled with the smell of ozone and ash as the lance died, and Harry's magic surged around the shard, rejecting the parasite and creating more pain for the child writhing on the ground.

Healers rushed around them, and the Werewolf dropped to his knees on the floor beside the child's head. Still, the Curse-Breaker focused on his spell, directing the ward to envelop the parasite until the waves of determined magic finally stopped attacking it.

The ward held, even as the boy's magic refused to stop it's assault and the blood slowed from between his fingers to a sluggish trickle. The Curse-Breaker fell backwards away from Harry, allowing the goblins to push through to tend to the child that had passed out while his Guardian stared down at the child in horror, eyes blazing gold.

Everyone could feel Harry's magic pulsing out of his body, searching for whatever harmed him before returning, curling up like a cat. The smell of ozone, ash, and a floral hint Harry would've recognised had he been conscious—lilies, carnations, chrysanthemum, and aconite—passed over the room in waves of strength that had some visibly relaxing and tensing simultaneously.

Harry twitched as his magic roared with freedom, making his body spasm with the energy that had been shackled for years. The Goblins ignored the innocent way the magic brushed up against them curiously, knowing Harry couldn't control it in his unconscious state, and let the magic do as it wanted.

The two wizards could only watch warily, unsure what to make of it. Harry's magic had spent enough time under the control of others and seemed to be enjoying its freedom at last.

~~~