Gringotts and the potion test
Severus awoke at the break of dawn, ensuring that his guests did as well. He guided them toward the fireplace, his demeanor purposeful. “Now, remember to maintain utmost clarity,” he instructed Petunia. “Step into the flames, keep the child firmly in your arms, and articulate ‘The Leaky Cauldron.’” Petunia nodded, grasping a handful of the floo powder before stepping into the hearth. “The Leaky Cauldron!” she exclaimed, and the flames enveloped her, whisking her away to the destination.
Severus glanced down at Harry Potter, who stood by his side, gazing intently at the spot where his aunt had just vanished. “Come along, brat,” he sighed, lifting the four-year-old without a hint of protest from the child. With a determined stride, Severus stepped into the flickering flames.
“Good day, Professor Snape!” Tom, the barkeeper, greeted him cheerfully, exhibiting no surprise at the child accompanying him. Snape merely nodded, his insides simmering with irritation. Did he truly appear to be the type to carry children? Petunia lingered a few paces away, and he passed the Potter boy back to her. “Let us proceed,” he stated briskly. “Gringotts will be opening shortly.”
The experience of traveling via floo was one Petunia wished never to endure again, yet she recognized that she would likely soon find herself doing so once more. Had it not been for the kind-hearted man named Tom, she would have toppled face-first upon her arrival; he had been quick enough to catch her as the floo expelled her. Gratefully, she thanked him as she stepped away from the fireplace, even as he waved what appeared to be a wand at her, deftly removing the soot from her clothing. Moments later, Snape emerged from the floo with an elegance she found almost enviable. However, she was taken aback to see the pinched expression on Harry’s face— the most animated she had ever seen him. It seemed he, too, was not particularly fond of the floo travel.
As Snape beckoned her to follow, handing her Harry once more, she finally observed the disheveled state of her surroundings. The floor appeared to have remained untouched by cleaning for years, and the walls seemed on the verge of crumbling. She suppressed a grimace of disgust, reminding herself to maintain composure. Upon halting before a brick wall, she opened her mouth to inquire about their stop, but her question was stifled as Snape withdrew his wand and tapped the bricks. To her astonishment, the bricks shifted, revealing a scene that seemed plucked from a Disney film.
Figures clad in robes of every conceivable hue wandered about, many adorned with pointed hats— garments she was certain both James and Lily had never donned. Bags and various items floated alongside the men and women, while the alleyway was predominantly populated by women and children.
“Come along, Petunia,” Snape urged, guiding her toward a grand white marble building, its entrance guarded by diminutive figures who merely sneered in response.
“Goblins,” Snape remarked, gesturing toward the small beings.
Severus led the way up the stairs and into a vast hall where numerous desks were manned by goblin tellers. He approached one. “Merry meet, teller.”
“Merry meet, Heir Prince.” Snape caught the surprise flicker in Petunia’s expression but chose not to dwell on it.
“We seek a potions and a hereditary test.” The goblin regarded the group behind him and nodded. “Very well. Griphook shall assist you.”
At this, another goblin emerged, gesturing for them to follow.
“Snape,” Petunia hissed, her voice tinged with anxiety. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “I fear I may lack sufficient funds to cover the tests.”
Severus exhaled in exasperation. “Potter will possess at least a trust fund, one derived from a Noble House. It shall be ample to cover the tests, the necessities for the children, and perhaps more.”
This seemed to pacify her, and she settled into a chair in the room they had been ushered into. The chubby boy regarded Griphook with keen interest, only his mother’s firm grasp preventing him from lunging toward the goblin. In stark contrast, his cousin remained astonishingly quiet, prompting Severus to double-check that the child’s eyes were indeed open, confirming he was not asleep. Griphook produced two parchments and two vials of potions, one of which Severus recognized instantly— the heritage potion.
He gestured toward the second vial, filled with a thick, purple substance. “I presume that is the potion to ascertain previous administrations?”
“You presume correctly. Mrs. Dursley,” the goblin continued, disregarding her wince at being addressed so directly. “Please allow one drop of blood from the child to fall into each vial.”
Petunia accepted the offered blade and delicately nicked one of Potter’s fingers.
Severus observed intently. The brat hadn’t even flinched! He merely observed passively as Griphook reclaimed the blade and the vials, proceeding to empty their contents onto the two parchments. Severus watched as the potions soaked into the yellow sheets, leaving behind written text.
Petunia swallowed hard as the goblin poured the potions onto the paper, which absorbed the liquid, dark green writing beginning to materialize. Once the process was complete, Griphook handed the parchment to her and Snape, who leaned in closely to scrutinize the results alongside her.
Potion Administration Test
Potions in bloodstream:
Amortentia
Kawalia
remedium est caritas
Petunia inhaled deeply, recognizing that her suspicions had indeed been validated. However, she found herself at a loss regarding the identities of the other potions. Stealing a glance at Severus Snape, she noted his impassive expression, which recalled memories of Lily's grievances about Slytherins. A faint smile threatened to emerge, but it quickly dissipated upon her gaze falling on the quiet little boy nestled in her lap.
Heritage Test:Hadrian Jamison Potter-Black-Prince.
Prince? The name struck her with a sense of bewilderment. How could he share one of Snape's titles? She could almost hear Snape's incredulous whisper of "impossible" echoing in her mind. Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, she ensured that Dudley was where he was supposed to be before continuing her reading.
Mother:Lilith Rosalind Potter née Evans (deceased)
Father:Jamison Fleamont Potter (deceased)
Godfathers:Sirius Orion Black (traditional blood adoption), Severus Snape-Prince (traditional blood adoption)
Heirships:Heir Apparent to the ancient and Noble House of Potter,
Heir Apparent to the ancient and Noble House of Black,
Heir to the ancient and Noble House of Prince,
Heir to the historic and Noble House of Slytherin (through conquest and Soul Bond to Thomas Marvolo Riddle),
Heir Apparent to the ancient and Noble House of Peverell.
Volts:See second page.
Severus found it difficult to breathe, the implications of the document overwhelming him. It was simply not possible. Petunia glanced at him, concern etching her features. “Severus, are you alright?” It seemed prudent to address him by his first name, given the weight of the revelations.
“How?” he demanded, leaning over the desk, his intensity palpable. Griphook maintained a blank expression. “How does that brat possess my title?”
The goblin retrieved a few parchments from a drawer. “Were you in a relationship with the former Lord and Lady Potter?” Petunia gasped, the sound lost on both the wizard and the goblin.
“It is inconsequential,” Severus hissed, his agitation palpable. Griphook appeared unfazed. “You will find that it is quite consequential. Given that the House of Prince has an Heir, you may assume the Lordship if you so desire.”
“Goblin, elucidate yourself at once,” the Potions Professor whispered in a tone that had frightened the wits out of many of his students.
Griphook sneered, “Mind your tone, wizard. While you may hold respect among us, we will not tolerate any disparagement from you.”
Severus slumped into his chair, abandoning any semblance of elegance or decorum. “Yes, I was once involved with Lily and James, but they severed ties with me after our graduation from Hogwarts,” he explained bitterly. “Thus, that brat cannot possibly be mine.”
“And yet, magic appears to hold a contrary opinion,” Petunia interjected softly. Severus turned to her, surprised to find no signs of disgust in her demeanor.
“How are you so at ease with this? I thought you yearned for normalcy in every aspect of your life,” Severus inquired, genuine curiosity lacing his tone.
“Petunia Evans was envious of her younger sister. Petunia Dursley may have desired normalcy, but that is no longer who I am,” she pronounced with finality. “Does Gringotts also manage Muggle divorces?” she asked politely, directing her question to Griphook. The goblin responded with a toothy grin. “Indeed, we do.”
When Petunia glanced at Severus for confirmation, he waved his hand dismissively, still grappling with the enormity of the revelation.
Twenty minutes later, Petunia Dursley had officially become Petunia Evans.