A life rewritten.

Harry found himself standing on a narrow cobblestone street that buzzed with energy and life. Brightly colored shop signs swayed above the crooked buildings, and people in flowing robes of every hue bustled past, talking animatedly and laughing. The air was thick with the smell of fresh bread, fragrant herbs, and a smoky scent that reminded him vaguely of a bonfire. His stomach gave an involuntary twist at the scent of food, a sharp reminder of his ever-present hunger, but he quickly pushed it aside, repressing the gnawing emptiness that had become all too familiar.

His eyes went wide as he took in the dazzling scene around him—magic seemed to hum in the very air. The nausea from Apparating had vanished, replaced by a swell of awe and excitement. This was Diagon Alley—real, alive, and more wondrous than anything he had ever imagined.

He turned in a slow circle, his mouth hanging open as he watched a group of witches huddled around a cauldron outside a shop, bright smoke puffing from the top, and a wizard juggling glowing orbs of light for a crowd of children. A street vendor was selling quills that fluttered like bird feathers, and a massive broomstick display in a shop window caught his eye, the words Nimbus 2000 glittering in gold. It was a world he had only dreamed about, coming to life all around him, and he felt a surge of excitement so strong it made his chest ache.

“Stop gawking, Potter,” Snape’s sharp voice cut through Harry’s trance. He glanced over and saw Snape looking at him with a mixture of impatience and faint amusement, one eyebrow arched as if he had seen this reaction a hundred times before. “We’re going to Gringotts,” Snape said, gesturing down the cobblestone street. “It’s the wizarding bank, and you’ll need to access your vault before we buy your supplies.” Without waiting for a response, Snape began walking, his long strides cutting easily through the crowd.

Harry hurried to keep up, his eyes still darting around in fascination at the magical world surrounding him. “A bank?” he asked, feeling dazed. “I... I have a vault?”

“Yes,” Snape replied tersely, glancing down at Harry with a flicker of impatience, as if he found the boy’s ignorance mildly exasperating. “Your parents left you an inheritance, which has been kept safe at Gringotts. Your father, James Potter, was Lord Potter, and as his heir, you have certain... responsibilities.” The words seemed to hang heavily in the air, and Harry stopped short, staring up at Snape in shock. Lord Potter? The idea of his father—someone he had never really known—being a Lord was almost too much to process. He had always imagined his parents as ordinary people, not tied to titles or responsibility, and now this revelation made them seem almost like figures out of a story.

Snape’s expression hardened as he caught the confusion in Harry’s wide eyes, and he continued, his tone crisp and almost impatient. “Yes, Lord Potter,” he repeated, as if to emphasize that this was a fact Harry should already have known. “And you, as his heir, must learn what that means in due time. For now, we need to access your vault.” He turned sharply on his heel, gesturing for Harry to follow. “Hurry, and keep close. We don’t have time for dawdling.”

Harry swallowed, still reeling from the shock of what he had just learned, but he hurried to keep up with Snape’s long strides, his mind racing. Lord Potter, he thought, the words echoing in his head like a strange, unfamiliar melody. It felt as if a door had opened, offering a glimpse into a world he had never imagined—one that was tied to his family and his past in a way he was only beginning to understand.

Gripping the sack of his meager belongings a little tighter as he followed Snape. They moved through the bustling crowd, past shops that seemed more wondrous and strange with every step. A flash of movement caught his eye—a tiny, hooded figure darting into a dark alleyway—and he almost stumbled as they passed a shop selling a dazzling array of shimmering robes that changed color in the light. A wizard’s hat tipped its brim to him as they passed a hat shop, and Harry couldn’t help but grin, feeling a thrill of excitement bubbling in his chest despite the overwhelming strangeness of it all.

They rounded a corner, and suddenly Harry’s gaze was drawn upward to a massive, white building that loomed over the street, its entrance flanked by tall marble pillars that seemed to gleam in the sunlight. Goblins—small, sharp-featured creatures with narrow eyes—stood at attention outside, their expressions stern and watchful. A grand, golden sign above the heavy wooden doors read Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Harry felt his breath catch again, both at the sight of the bank and the realization that he was about to enter a world his aunt and uncle had tried so hard to keep hidden from him.

Snape glanced down at him, his expression unreadable, before leading him up the steps. “Come along, Potter,” he said, his tone brisk. “We have much to do and little time to waste.” Harry swallowed, his heart racing with a mixture of excitement and nerves, and followed Snape up the gleaming steps, feeling the world shift and open around him with every step he took.

Harry’s heart was pounding as they approached the entrance to Gringotts, the massive white marble building towering over Diagon Alley. The goblins at the door gave them both a calculating, suspicious glance as they walked inside, but Severus seemed unfazed, his expression cold and unreadable. Harry followed closely, still dazed from the revelation that his father had been Lord Potter. His curiosity swirled with a nervous anticipation as they stepped into the cavernous interior of the bank.

The inside of Gringotts was even more impressive than Harry had imagined. High ceilings stretched above them, lit by glittering chandeliers that cast a warm glow over the marble floors. Goblins in sharp suits sat behind polished wooden counters, their long fingers sorting piles of gold coins and shuffling important-looking papers. The atmosphere was tense, a sense of authority and secrecy hanging heavily in the air.

Snape led Harry directly to one of the tellers, a goblin with sharp features, a thin, hooked nose, and glittering black eyes that sized them up with barely disguised curiosity. Without any hesitation, Snape stepped forward and spoke with a tone of cool authority. “Lord Potter requires access to his family vault,” he said, his voice low and firm.

The goblin’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he leaned forward, his gaze shifting to Harry, who stood half-hidden behind Snape. “Lord Potter, you say?” the goblin repeated, a hint of skepticism in his tone. “For that, I will need the vault key and a verification, as this is young Mr. Potter’s first visit to Gringotts.”

Snape nodded sharply and pulled a small, ancient-looking key from the pocket of his jacket. He placed it on the counter, the metal gleaming dully in the bank’s soft light. “Here is the key,” Snape said crisply. “And we will require an inheritance test for Mr. Potter, as well as a meeting with the Potter account manager.”

The goblin’s expression shifted, a flicker of interest flashing in his dark eyes as he picked up the key and inspected it with careful scrutiny. “An inheritance test?” he asked, his voice now tinged with curiosity as he set the key down. “Very well. The test will verify Lord Potter’s identity and confirm his inheritance.” He looked at Harry with a sharp, appraising gaze that made Harry shift nervously on his feet.

“And the Potter account manager?” the goblin continued, raising one eyebrow as he addressed Snape. “That will require a formal appointment.”

“It is necessary,” Snape replied curtly, his tone brokering no argument. “Ensure that it is arranged after the verification and the test. We will not be leaving until these matters are settled.”

The goblin gave a slow nod, his pointed teeth glinting in a small, shrewd smile. “Very well, Mr. Potter,” he said, directing his attention fully to Harry now. “If you would kindly follow me, we will begin the verification and prepare for the inheritance test. If everything is in order, we will grant you full access to your vaults and proceed with any additional requests.” He motioned for Harry to step forward, and Harry glanced nervously up at Snape, who gave him a single, firm nod.

Taking a deep breath, Harry stepped forward, feeling the weight of all the eyes in the room settle on him. His hands felt clammy, and his heart thudded in his chest, but there was also a spark of something new—something like determination. This was his moment, his first real step into the world that had been hidden from him for so long, and he was ready to face whatever came next.

The goblin led Harry and Severus down a narrow, dimly lit hallway lined with old portraits of stern-looking goblins, their eyes seeming to follow every movement. Harry's heart pounded louder with each step, the tension building as they approached a heavy wooden door at the end of the hall. The goblin paused briefly, then turned to them.

"You will continue with Griphook from here," the goblin said, his tone clipped and businesslike. He gave a curt nod to a second goblin who stepped out of the shadows—a smaller, wiry figure with a cunning glint in his eyes.

Griphook gave a slight bow. "This way, please," he said, his voice low and raspy. The first goblin gave one last assessing glance at Harry and Severus, then departed back down the hall without another word.

Griphook pushed the heavy door open, revealing a small, dimly lit office with a large wooden desk at the center. A high-backed chair loomed behind the desk, casting a long shadow in the flickering candlelight. On the desk lay an old, weathered piece of parchment alongside a long, ornate pin needle that looked almost ceremonial.

"Please, have a seat," Griphook said, gesturing to two wooden chairs in front of the desk. "We have much to discuss." He moved behind the desk with a practiced ease, his long fingers brushing lightly over the parchment as he settled into the high-backed chair. His eyes, sharp and calculating, studied them both carefully, as if weighing their worth.

Harry glanced nervously at Snape, who gave him a short nod, before he sat down. Snape took the chair beside him, his expression unreadable, though his eyes were locked intently on the goblin’s every movement.

Griphook settled into the high-backed chair, folding his long, slender fingers over the desk as he looked at Harry with a piercing gaze. “For the inheritance test, we require a small amount of blood,” he explained, his tone businesslike and devoid of emotion. “This will confirm your identity and reveal your inheritance, as well as any titles, properties, and responsibilities that may come with your bloodline.”

Harry swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on the long, ritualistic-looking pin needle resting on the parchment. It gleamed faintly in the dim light, the intricate designs on the handle catching his eye. “What do I have to do?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Griphook picked up the needle with a careful, almost reverent touch. “It’s quite simple,” he said, holding the needle out to Harry. “You need to prick your finger with this pin and allow a few drops of your blood to fall onto the parchment. The enchantments in the parchment will react to the blood, revealing your lineage and inheritance.” His dark eyes gleamed with a hint of anticipation, as if he was eager to see what secrets the parchment would reveal.

Harry hesitated, glancing again at Snape, who gave him a small, encouraging nod. “Go on,” Snape said quietly. “It’s necessary, and it will answer many of your questions.”

With trembling hands, Harry took the needle from the goblin, the cool metal feeling heavier than he expected. He took a deep breath, holding it as he brought the sharp tip to the pad of his index finger. There was a brief sting as the needle pricked his skin, and a single bead of crimson welled up. He hesitated for just a moment, then leaned over the parchment and let the drop of blood fall.

The parchment seemed to shiver as the drop of blood hit it, and suddenly, the ink that had been invisible moments before began to bloom across the page like a living thing. It twisted and twirled, forming elegant lines and shapes that seemed to pulse with life. Harry watched in awe as the words revealed themselves in shimmering letters, his heart racing as they spread and shifted, detailing a lineage he had never known. The air in the room felt charged, almost electric, as the parchment completed its transformation, displaying names, titles, and properties with a clarity that took Harry’s breath away.

“Now we will see,”Griphook said softly, leaning forward to examine the newly revealed text. His eyes gleamed with keen interest, and Harry felt a surge of anticipation and fear, knowing that whatever lay on that parchment would change everything he thought he knew about his family—and himself.

Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

• Primary Residence: 12 Grimmauld Place

• Located in London. The ancestral townhouse of the Black family, hidden by powerful magic and ancient wards. Includes enchanted rooms, a potion lab, and Black family relics.

• House Elves: Kreacher, Minty – responsible for the protection, care, and maintenance of the Black family home.

• Vault: Vault 711 (Black Vault)

• Contains an extremely large sum of 373,250,000 Galleons, alongside precious Black family artifacts, enchanted heirlooms, and historical documents.

Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Slytherin

• Primary Residence: Slytherin Keep

• Hidden beneath the Lake District, this ancient, enchanted castle is tied to the magical legacy of Salazar Slytherin. It holds the ancestral chamber, the Slytherin library, and ancient magical relics.

• House Elves: Salvia, Ignotus – guardians of the castle’s enchantments and caretakers of its secret passages.

• Vault: Vault 340 (Slytherin Vault)

• Contains an extremely large sum of 2,000,000 Galleons, rare magical artifacts, historical relics, and ancient grimoires related to the House of Slytherin.

Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Peverell

• Primary Residence: Peverell Hall

• Located in the hidden depths of the Forbidden Forest, known only to those of the Peverell bloodline. A magical stronghold with ancient wards, a Hall of Ancestry, and a collection of the most powerful relics tied to the Deathly Hallows.

• House Elves: Yorik, Zephyr – custodians of the Peverell treasures and protectors of the estate’s secrets.

• Vault: Vault 001 (Peverell Vault)

• Contains an extremely large sum of 9,893,000,000 Galleons, enchanted items, ancient artifacts tied to the Hallows, and detailed lineage records.

Family Details:

• Mother:

• Lily Rose Potter (née Evans), member of the Noble and Most Ancient House of  Potter by marriage

• Father:

• Lord James Charlus Potter, Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter.

• Blood-Adopted Father:

• Sirius Orion Black, Lord of the House of Black, blood-adopted father and legal guardian of Hadrian James Potter Black. Recognized as primary guardian by magical and blood rights.

• Father’s Chosen Godfather:

• Remus Plutarch Lupin, member of the Order of the Phoenix, appointed as secondary guardian by blood oath.

• Mother’s Chosen Godfathers:

• Regulus Arcturus Black, former Heir of the House of Black, named guardian by Lily Potter.

• Severus Snape, Potions Master and childhood friend of Lily Potter, named guardian and magical protector.

Special Notes:

• Hadrian James Potter Black is confirmed as the Heir to five ancient and noble houses, each bound by blood and legacy. These inheritances grant access to significant assets, properties, vaults, and magical heirlooms tied to each family line.

• Inheritance also includes rare and powerful magical artifacts, as well as stewardship of each house's ancient traditions.

• Responsibilities tied to each House must be learned and upheld in due time. Full access to properties and vaults is granted upon this verification.

• Sirius Orion Black, as the blood-adopted father of Hadrian James Potter Black, holds guardianship until the boy reaches the age of majority or completes his formal education.

•  Each hold a seat on the Wizengmot

Verification Authorized By:
Gringotts Wizarding Bank, Office of Magical Lineages and Bloodline Verification.

Witnessed and Sealed by Head Goblin, Griphook.

Harry’s hands trembled slightly as he held the ancient-looking parchment in his fingers, his eyes scanning the elaborate script that detailed his inheritance. Each line seemed to reveal something more incredible, more overwhelming than the last. He was the Heir to five ancient houses—houses tied to legacies and names he had only just begun to understand. As he read, the weight of it all settled over him like a heavy cloak, both thrilling and terrifying. His gaze froze as he came to a name that made his breath hitch.

Mother’s Chosen Godfathers:
Regulus Arcturus Black, former Heir of the House of Black, named guardian by Lily Potter.
Severus Snape, Potions Master and childhood friend of Lily Potter, named guardian and magical protector.

Harry glanced up at Snape, who had been watching him intently. For a moment, the usually composed Professor looked utterly stunned. His eyes widened, his jaw tightening in an expression of shock he couldn’t quite hide. “Lily... chose me?” Snape murmured, his voice uncharacteristically soft, as if he couldn’t believe the words on the parchment. The raw surprise in his tone was almost painful to hear, and Harry caught a flash of something in Snape’s expression—an emotion he had never associated with the stern man before.

Griphook, who had been observing the interaction with the patience of a predator watching its prey, cleared his throat with a faintly impatient noise. “The contents of this document are binding and final,”Griphook said, his voice cool and measured. “The inheritance you have received, Hadrian James Potter Black, is extraordinary in both its scope and its significance. You are confirmed as the Heir to five of the most powerful and ancient houses in wizarding Britain. This entitles you to all the assets, properties, vaults, and responsibilities tied to those families.”

Harry’s mind spun, and he struggled to make sense of the weighty words. “What... what does it mean?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes darting from the document to Griphook’s sharp features.

Griphook expression was one of cool professionalism as he explained. “Each house to which you are heir holds a prominent seat on the Wizengamot—the governing body of our magical society. You have inherited not only vast wealth but also influence, power, and a legacy tied to each house. These include the rights to manage estates, properties, and family vaults, as well as the duty to represent those houses within the political sphere of the wizarding world.”

He paused, giving Harry a moment to absorb the gravity of his words before continuing. “The vaults are among the wealthiest in the wizarding world, filled with Galleons, enchanted items, and rare magical artifacts. Your lineage has made you the custodian of ancient magical knowledge, artifacts tied to powerful bloodlines, and secrets guarded for centuries.”

Harry’s throat tightened as he looked down at the parchment, his eyes drawn back to the names of his parents—and the mention of Sirius, Remus, Regulus, and Severus. “And... and the godfathers?” he asked, his voice hesitant. He glanced at Snape, whose expression remained strained and conflicted.

Griphook nodded. “Lily Potter, your mother, named both Regulus Arcturus Black and Severus Snape as your guardians, should anything happen to her and your father. By magical law, their roles as godfathers are binding, and they have a responsibility to ensure your safety, education, and training, particularly in matters of the magical legacy tied to your bloodlines.”

Snape remained silent, his face a mask of suppressed emotion as he stared at the parchment. Harry felt his own confusion deepen, his thoughts tangling with the reality of a past he had never known—one where his mother had trusted and chosen guardians for him.

The silence between them stretched, heavy with unspoken questions and revelations, as Harry tried to grasp what this all meant for his future. For the first time, he realized that the life he had lived until now was only the beginning, and that his journey into the world of magic was far more complicated and significant than he could have ever imagined.

The name, his name.

"Hadrian James Potter Black."

“Hadrian?” he breathed, confusion tightening his chest. “What does that mean?”

Griphook’s eyes gleamed with a knowing look, as if he had expected Harry’s confusion. “Your true name, Mr. Potter, is Hadrian James Potter Black. ‘Harry’ was merely a shortened version, used for convenience by those who raised you.

Griphook’s gaze shifted slightly as he tapped the edge of the parchment with one long, bony finger, his expression growing more serious. “Lord Potter Black, there is one more matter that must be addressed regarding the accounts tied to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter.”

Hadrian’s brow furrowed, and he looked up from the document to meet Griphook’s sharp eyes, sensing a change in the goblin’s demeanor. Snape’s expression also darkened slightly, a flicker of suspicion crossing his features. “What matter?” Hadrian asked, his voice uncertain, feeling the tension in the room grow heavier.

Griphook reached into a drawer behind the desk, pulling out another piece of parchment that looked like a detailed ledger. “In my examination of the Potter accounts, I discovered several authorized transactions,” the goblin said slowly, his voice laced with a steely calm. “These transactions were made by a man named Albus Dumbledore. He’s the current Headmaster of Hogwarts, the school you will be attending. Funds from the main Potter vault have been transferred into two separate accounts—one linked directly to Dumbledore’s personal vault, and another to an organization called the Order of the Phoenix.”

Hadrian’s eyes widened in confusion. “Who is Dumbledore?” he asked, the unfamiliar name catching him off-guard. He had never heard of this man before, yet he was somehow connected to his family’s money.

Snape’s eyes narrowed, a flash of anger darkening his expression. “Albus Dumbledore is the Headmaster of Hogwarts,” he said, his tone tinged with contempt. “A man who prides himself on being a guiding light in the wizarding world. Apparently, he’s been playing a more insidious game with your family’s legacy.”

Hadrian’s confusion deepened as he tried to process Snape’s words. Griphook continued, his thin lips curling into a slight, knowing smile. “The first transfer occurred shortly after the death of your parents, Lord Potter Black,” the goblin said, his gaze steady on Hadrian. “Over the years, several sizable sums have been withdrawn—amounts ranging from 10,000 to 1,000,000 Galleons at a time. The total taken from the Potter vault is... significant.”

Hadrian’s hands tightened around the parchment, and a cold, hollow feeling settled in his chest. He had never known his parents, never had any sense of family beyond the Dursleys, but the idea that someone had been stealing from his inheritance felt like a personal violation. “Why would he do that?” Hadrian asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, feeling a mix of anger and betrayal at the thought of a stranger taking what should have been his.

“The funds used for the Order of the Phoenix appear to have been directed toward its operations and... other expenditures,” Griphook continued calmly. “However, none of these transactions were authorized by any living member of the Potter family. They were processed solely under the authority of Headmaster Dumbledore.”

Snape’s expression hardened, his dark eyes flashing with cold fury. “Of course they were,” he muttered, his voice tight with barely restrained anger. “Typical of Dumbledore, always justifying his actions with some supposed ‘greater good,’ while ignoring the wishes and rights of those he claims to protect.”

Hadrian’s heart sank, feeling a strange sense of loss. “What... what does this mean for me?” he asked quietly, his voice breaking slightly. The shock of learning about his inheritance was now overshadowed by this unexpected betrayal. “Can he just keep doing this? Taking my family’s money?”

“No, he cannot,” Griphook said firmly, his voice resolute. “Now that you, as the rightful heir, any unauthorized transactions will be blocked immediately. You have the right to reclaim all funds that were withdrawn, as well as to seek legal retribution if you so choose.”

Hadrian’s mind spun, the weight of this new reality pressing down on him like a crushing force. He had hoped that magic would be a chance for freedom, a way to escape the cruelty of his old life, but now he saw it was also a world filled with secrets and betrayals. He looked up at Snape, whose expression remained cold and furious, and then back to Griphook.

“What... what do I do now?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, the question feeling impossibly heavy in the air.

Snape’s eyes softened just a fraction as he looked at Hadrian, but his voice remained firm and unyielding. “First, we secure your inheritance and ensure that no one—not even Dumbledore—can take what rightfully belongs to you. Then, we will deal with this betrayal when the time is right. You have much to learn, Potter Black, and there are those who would rather keep you ignorant. But that will not happen. Not anymore.”

Griphook’s sharp eyes remained locked on Hadrian as he reached back into the drawer, this time pulling out a slightly yellowed and sealed parchment. He placed it carefully on the desk, his fingers lingering over the wax seal before glancing at Snape and Hadrian. “There is another matter I must bring to your attention,” the goblin said, his voice carrying a strange note of significance. “The will of your parents, Lily and James Potter.”

Hadrian’s breath caught, his eyes widening as he stared at the document now sitting on the desk. He hadn’t known that his parents had left a will—no one had ever mentioned it, not even once. Snape’s face tightened, his eyes narrowing as he leaned forward, his focus riveted on the parchment.

“This is the original will,” Griphook said, his tone firm and clear. “In it, they specified the guardianship of their son, Hadrian James Potter Black. They made it explicitly clear that under no circumstances was their child to be placed in the care of Petunia Dursley. Instead, they wished for him to be placed with one of his chosen godfathers—Sirius Orion Black, Remus Plutarch Lupin, Regulus Arcturus Black, or Severus Snape.”

The words hit Hadrian like a physical blow. His parents had never wanted him to be with the Dursleys. They had specifically named people they trusted—people who could have been his family. A sudden wave of emotions surged through him, his hands tightening around the edges of the chair as he tried to steady himself. “Then... then why wasn’t I with them?” he asked, his voice cracking with hurt and confusion. His chest felt tight, and he was barely able to catch his breath. “Why did I end up with the Dursleys?”

Griphook’s expression hardened as he folded his long fingers over the parchment. “It appears that Albus Dumbledore acted alone in this matter,” he said, his voice edged with disdain. “He took it upon himself to bypass your parents’ wishes and secure your placement. The records indicate that he had you taken to a location he believed to be ‘the safest,’ ignoring the clear instructions in this will. I am unaware that this location was with Petunia Dursley, but it is clear that Dumbledore acted without any formal legal authorization.”

Hadrian’s body went rigid, his fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The room seemed to blur around him as a torrent of emotions crashed over him—rage, betrayal, sorrow, and a deep, bitter sense of loss. He could have been with people who cared about him. He could have had a real family, not the cold, hateful existence he had endured with Petunia and the Dursleys.

“I... I could have been with them,” he choked out, his voice shaking. “Instead, he—he left me with her. I had to live with them!” A hot tear slipped down his cheek, but he barely noticed it. His mind was flooded with memories of long, lonely nights in the cupboard, of going hungry, of the sting of harsh beatings nasty words and sneers.

Suddenly, a loud crack echoed through the room, followed by the shattering of glass. A goblet on the nearby shelf had exploded, sending shards raining down onto the stone floor. Hadrian’s breath hitched, his chest heaving, and he realized his magic had surged out of him uncontrollably, a physical manifestation of the turmoil churning inside. His eyes darted to the shattered glass, panic mingling with his anger.

Snape’s face was a mask of cold fury, his eyes flashing as he looked from the broken glass back to Hadrian. Yet there was no reprimand in his gaze—only a burning rage directed at someone else. “Dumbledore,” Snape hissed, his voice low and deadly. “He did this. He defied your Lilys’ wishes and left you in that place.”

Hadrian’s chest tightened painfully, his hands trembling as he gripped the edges of the chair. “I could have been with you,” he said, his voice raw with emotion as he looked at Snape, who now seemed less like a stranger and more like a lifeline. “I could have been with someone who knew my parents... someone who cared.” His voice cracked, and he felt a deep ache in his chest—a longing for a life he never had, a chance that had been stolen from him.

Griphook’s face remained impassive, though his eyes glittered with understanding. “The choices made by Albus Dumbledore were not in accordance with your parents’ wishes,” he said calmly, ignoring the shattered glass on the floor. “Now that you are here, you have the right to reclaim what was taken from you and to see that their desires are honored.”

Hadrian took a shaky breath, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand as he tried to steady himself. His magic still buzzed beneath his skin, electric and wild, but he pushed it down, forcing himself to focus. “Then I want to make sure he never takes anything from me again,” he said fiercely, his green eyes bright with determination. “I’ll make sure my parents’ wishes are respected. I’ll take back what’s mine.”

Snape’s gaze softened, just a fraction, as he looked down at Hadrian. For a moment, something like pride flickered in his dark eyes. He gave a slow, firm nod, his voice carrying an unexpected warmth. “We will,” he said, steady and sure. “We will secure your inheritance, ensure that everything is protected, and make certain that no one—not even Dumbledore—can ever take what rightfully belongs to you again.” His words were spoken with a quiet determination, a promise that resonated with both conviction and a newfound sense of responsibility.

Snape turned to Griphook, his expression shifting to one of genuine gratitude, a rare look for the stern Potions Master. “Thank you, Griphook,” he said, his voice carrying a sincerity that surprised even himself. “You have done more than merely perform a transaction today. You have uncovered a truth that needed to be known, and you have given this boy the chance to take back what was unjustly taken from him.”

Griphook inclined his head slightly, a glimmer of satisfaction in his sharp eyes. “It is my duty to ensure that the wishes of the deceased are respected and that the rightful heir is recognized,” the goblin replied calmly, his long fingers folding over the edge of the parchment. “Hadrian James Potter Black now has full access to his inheritance, and any unauthorized transactions have been blocked. The accounts are secure.”

Snape gave another nod, acknowledging the goblin’s words. “We’ll need to make a withdrawal,” he said, his tone shifting back to brisk practicality. “Hadrian requires new clothes and his school supplies, as well as additional funds for personal use.” He cast a glance at Hadrian, who was still trying to absorb everything that had happened, his mind racing with thoughts of his future and the world that had suddenly opened before him.

“Very well,” Griphook said, his eyes glinting with the efficient eagerness of a goblin handling business. “I will arrange for you to withdraw the necessary amount. Shall I prepare a standard student allowance along with a clothing budget?”

“Yes,” Snape confirmed, his voice cool and professional once more. “Make sure he has more than enough for everything he’ll need at Hogwarts, as well as extra spending money. It’s time he had the freedom to choose for himself.” He looked down at Hadrian again, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. “From now on, you’ll have the means to get what you need—no more second-hand castoffs or going without.”

Hadrian felt a spark of something warm flicker in his chest at those words—a mixture of hope, relief, and an unfamiliar sense of empowerment. For the first time, he was being given a chance to decide, to have something of his own, and it felt like a small but important step toward reclaiming a life he had never been allowed to live.

After the formalities were completed, Griphook led Hadrian and Snape to a side chamber where their withdrawal would be handled. They walked through the grand marble halls of Gringotts, their footsteps echoing off the high ceilings. Hadrian’s mind was still spinning from everything that had happened—the revelations, the anger, the broken glass. Now, with each step, he felt the weight of those discoveries settle into something more solid—a sense of purpose he hadn’t known he was capable of feeling.

They arrived at a small, secure room, where another goblin handed Snape a heavy pouch of Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts. “Here is the amount requested,” the goblin said, bowing slightly as he handed over the clinking pouch. Snape took it and turned to Hadrian, holding out the pouch for him to take.

“Here,” Snape said quietly, pressing the bag into Hadrian’s hand. “This is yours. Use it to get what you need and, if you wish, a few things you simply want. Your life is about to change, and you deserve to start this journey with everything in place.”

Hadrian took the pouch, feeling the weight of the coins settle into his palm. It felt solid and reassuring, a tangible sign that things were, indeed, changing. He nodded, his throat tight, and gave Snape a grateful smile. “Thank you,” he said softly.

Griphook, who had observed the exchange with a neutral expression, gave a slight nod. “Before you leave, there is one more matter to discuss,” the goblin said. “Given the size and importance of the estates you have inherited, I recommend a full review of all accounts. Many of the vaults have not been touched in years, and it is time to ensure that the funds are properly managed and circulated back into wizarding society.”

Snape’s expression was thoughtful, and he glanced at Hadrian before turning back to Griphook. “I agree,” he said. “A comprehensive review is long overdue.”

Griphook’s thin lips curved into a small, satisfied smile. “Excellent,” he said, clearly pleased. “I will arrange an appointment for two weeks from today. We will go over the full contents of each vault, discuss the assets, and explore investment opportunities that will benefit not only your holdings but the broader wizarding economy. It is time to put these accounts to proper use.”

Hadrian nodded, still feeling overwhelmed but determined to take control of his inheritance. He had lived his entire life with nothing, and now, he had the chance to make a difference—not just for himself, but for the legacy his parents had left behind. “Two weeks,” he said, his voice steady. “I’ll be ready.”

“Very well,” Griphook said, extending a long-fingered hand to both of them. “It has been a pleasure doing business with you, Lord Potter Black. I look forward to our next meeting.”

Hadrian shook the goblin’s hand, feeling a strange sense of accomplishment. “Thank you, Griphook,” he said sincerely. “For everything.”

Snape inclined his head to the goblin as well. “You have my gratitude,” he said, his voice carrying a rare note of genuine respect. “We’ll see you in two weeks.”

Griphook gave them a final nod before leading them back through the winding corridors to the main entrance. As they stepped out of the cool, shadowed interior of the bank and into the bustling sunlight of Diagon Alley, Hadrian took a deep breath, feeling the fresh air fill his lungs. He was no longer the unwanted child hidden in a cupboard—he was Hadrian James Potter Black, with a future that was his to shape.

Snape gave him a sidelong glance, a hint of approval in his eyes. “Now,” he said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “let’s get you some proper clothes. You’ve got a lot of shopping to do, and we have a school to prepare for.”

With the heavy pouch of coins securely in his hand and the promise of a new beginning ahead of him, Hadrian followed Snape into the bustling alley, the sunlight warming his face and the weight of his inheritance no longer feeling like a burden, but a challenge he was ready to face