Shadows and Secrets
Author's Notice
So guys... Not much has changed in the story, except now Ron and the twins are with Harry from the start, and I’ve added a few more responsible adults too.
Originally, I didn’t think much about Ron and Hermione. I was gonna make them kind of distant (not bashing, just a bit annoying and know-it-all, you know?). Guess I read a few too many bashing stories!
I still don’t love Hermione, but I’m not bashing her. Other than that, just a few tweaks here and there. Honestly, I forgot some of what I was thinking when I first wrote this, so forgive any little changes.
Thanks so much for the love on this story! I’ll reply to your comments soon. See you guys soon!
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It's up to me (New)
Chapter 01
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Harry slid into the small office, eyes flicking over the room. The door gave a soft creak, closing with a faint thud, like it was locking him away from the rest of the castle. He’d stumbled upon this place halfway through the school year, tucked into some long-forgotten corner of Hogwarts. The air, thick with dust, seemed untouched—like no one had bothered with it in years. It wasn't much, just old shelves and worn-out furniture, but it had that quiet kind of stillness that made you feel like you were stepping into someone else's memory. It felt... almost forgotten, in a way that made it perfect.
The books—yeah, they weren't like the ones he’d seen in the library or any class. These were old. Really old. Leather covers cracked, edges curling, like they’d been through too many hands. Titles? Mostly gone, rubbed out by time, or scrawled in languages he didn’t even know where to start with. Some didn’t bother with titles at all, just strange symbols pressed into the spine, like they were keeping secrets. They sat there, heavy with dust, like they’d been waiting forever, just waiting for someone to finally notice. To open one up and see what’s inside.
In the middle of the room sat a desk, covered in a mess of old papers, dried-up quills scattered here and there, and ink bottles cracked, their contents long gone. Everything had a thick layer of dust, like it hadn't seen a person in years—yeah, that was pretty obvious. Behind the desk, an old chair slumped in the shadows, fabric worn down to almost nothing, the edges frayed like it had given up trying to look nice a long time ago. It might've been fancy, once upon a time, but now... now it just looked exhausted, like it had been waiting too long.
On the far wall, a serpent was carved right into the stone, winding its way up from the floor like it was alive. The detail? Kinda unsettling. Its scales seemed almost too real, like if you stared at them long enough, they'd start slithering. Harry didn't need to test it to know—it reacted to Parseltongue. Every time he spoke it, the air shifted just a bit, like the room was paying attention, almost leaning in to listen.
It wasn’t a big room. Felt cramped, really. But there was something about it—despite the dust and the shadows—that gave off this strange kind of comfort, like a forgotten nook in the castle, just waiting for someone to wander in.
He hadn’t told Ron or Hermione about it. Not after the whole basilisk mess. This place, tucked away where no one bothered to look, was the only spot where he could actually breathe. Quiet. Safe. It just... felt right, like the castle had been holding onto it for him. A space where he didn’t have to explain anything to anyone. Just him... Just Harry.
Harry wandered to the bookshelf, his fingers brushing lightly over the dusty spines. The books—old and filled with magic way beyond anything he’d learned—gave him this odd sense of comfort. Like they knew things he wasn’t ready for yet, but were patient enough to wait. He leaned back against the cold, windowless wall, feeling the chill seep through his robes, letting the silence settle over him. It was the kind of quiet that felt thick, almost alive, wrapping around him like it belonged there.
But, like always, his thoughts kept sneaking in. Before Hogwarts, he never pictured himself wrapped up in all this madness. So why was he acting like some kind of self-sacrificing hero now? Why couldn’t he just be like everyone else and enjoy school? These situations—they weren’t supposed to be his problem. The professors, they should’ve handled it. But somehow, he always felt like it was on him.
Maybe it didn’t have to be anymore. Maybe he could just... stop.
For a second, the thought lifted a weight off his chest, like he could finally breathe. All he wanted was a normal life. Was that really too much to ask? To just go to class, play Quidditch, not have to save the world every damn year. He could have that, right? Surely, he could.
His mind drifted to his parents. They’d died to protect him, not to watch him throw himself into danger every chance he got. No, they’d want him to live, to actually think things through. Saving Ginny, yeah, that had been the right thing, but... she wasn’t completely innocent either. Writing in that diary? Reckless. She knew better—she grew up in a wizarding family while he was not. Even her dad had warned her about stuff like that. It wasn’t like she didn’t have a clue.
Still, here he was, cleaning up the mess. Again.
It really bugged him that Ginny had gone and tossed the diary away, too. He’d only written in it once and then left it alone because he sensed something was off. So why had she wanted to pick it up again? Did she think he was somehow getting the scoop on her crush from Tom? It was just plain idiotic, if you asked him.
That book had clearly messed with her. She must’ve broken whatever hold it had when she tossed it aside. But still, she risked her life—and everyone else’s safety in the castle—over a silly crush. Like he didn’t already know about her feelings. What a mess.
Harry let out a deep sigh, frustration bubbling up inside him. If he’d known the diary was cursed, he would’ve handed it over to a professor without a second thought. And then there was everything else—the bullying, the isolation—it all piled up like a mountain over the year. Only Professor Flitwick had bothered to step in, noticing something was off and actually offering help. No one else had lifted a finger. That hurt more than he wanted to admit, gnawing at him like a constant reminder that he was alone in all this.
And then there was the basilisk. A bloody basilisk. It was hard to wrap his head around it. Hermione had figured it out, of course, but she was only in her second year. Meanwhile, no one else—not a single teacher, not any of the adults—had a clue. Here they were, the so-called experts, and a bunch of kids had to do the heavy lifting. It was just beyond him, like some twisted joke that he was the punchline to.
And Voldemort. Why were there two Voldemorts? One had tried to kill him last year, and now this one. It was like they were both crashing his school life without any warning. Why couldn’t they have shown up before he even started Hogwarts? Something about it felt off, like it was all planned out somehow. Every little thing that happened to him seemed to be pushing him toward something bigger. But what? He had no clue, and that gnawed at him more than he cared to admit, a persistent itch he couldn’t scratch.
He shook his head, rubbing his temples in a futile attempt to push away the thoughts swirling in his mind. It just wouldn’t click, and Dumbledore definitely wasn’t going to lay it all out for him. The headmaster seemed to treat him like he was still just a kid, even though he’d already faced Voldemort twice. It was beyond frustrating, like trying to read a book with half the pages torn out. All he wanted was someone to be real with him for once, to tell him what was going on instead of brushing him off like he didn’t matter.
With a heavy sigh, he realized he was on his own. If he wanted answers, he’d have to dig them up himself—somehow. He couldn’t lean on Ron or Hermione for everything, especially not when Hermione always played by the rules—at least when it suited her. As for the others? Not so much. And honestly, he wasn’t sure she’d keep her mouth shut about anything they uncovered. She had this strange awe for authority, even if she knew deep down that they hadn’t been much help.
But Ron... well, if he asked, Ron would jump in to help without a second thought. He knew that. Ron had faced his worst fear just to save Hermione, and for that, Harry couldn’t find the words. That kind of loyalty meant everything to him. But Ron had his own mess to deal with, too, and he didn’t want to drag him into this chaos.
His thoughts drifted to Dobby, the odd little house-elf who had tried to save his life, even if he had gone about it in such a peculiar way. A slight smile tugged at Harry's lips at the memory. Maybe... just maybe, Dobby could help him again. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was a start, at least.
But then Harry frowned, running his fingers through his hair as he thought it over. How could he possibly find Dobby? Sending a letter felt too distant, too uncertain. He never liked writing letters anyway; it always felt like shouting into the void. He needed something more direct, more immediate—something that wouldn’t leave him hanging in the dark, wondering if his words ever reached the little elf.
Suddenly, an idea hit him, and he couldn’t help but grin. What if he just... called out Dobby’s name? Just like he sometimes did for Hedwig? It sounded almost too simple, but then again, sometimes the easiest things worked the best.
He took a deep breath, the corners of his mouth still twitching up as he thought of the little house-elf’s wide, eager eyes.
“Dobby!” he called, the name echoing softly in the dusty room. Would it really work?
With a sudden pop, Dobby appeared right in front of him, looking worse than Harry remembered. The poor elf wore an outrageous lemon-yellow shirt that hung off his frail frame like a sack, paired with mismatched cotton socks that were full of holes. His skin was a sickly, almost ghostly pale, and his large eyes, usually bright and full of life, were sunken and dull. He looked like he’d just crawled out of a bloody nightmare.
“Great Master Harry Potter!” Dobby squeaked, his voice a little hoarse, like he’d been shouting for days. He bounced on the balls of his feet, but the excitement didn’t quite reach his eyes, which held a weary sheen that made Harry’s heart ache. “Dobby is here! Dobby came when called!”
Harry frowned, a lump forming in his throat. The elf looked terrible, like he’d been through hell and back, and he felt a surge of anger at whoever had made Dobby suffer like this. Was it Malfoy?
“What the hell happened to you, Dobby?” Harry blurted out, worry edging into his voice. The little creature waved a hand dismissively, but the strain in his expression said it all.
“Great Master Harry Potter cares about Dobby! Dobby is happy,” the little elf said, “But Dobby is sorry to say… Dobby is dying, sir. House elves die without a bond. Dobby was freed, but… not fully. If Dobby had stayed in a magical place, he would be fine for many years, but now…”
Harry’s stomach twisted. “What? What do you mean, you’re not fully freed? And you’re dying?” he whisper-yelled, those words hitting him hard.
"Dobby, do you need a new bond? If I bond with you, would that save you?"
The guilt of not thinking about what would happen to Dobby after freeing him washed over Harry. He hadn’t even considered that Dobby’s freedom might come with a cost, let alone his life. His fists clenched at his sides, and for a moment, he couldn’t meet Dobby’s gaze, feeling like he’d let him down.
“Dobby thanks Great Master Harry Potter for his kindness," Dobby said, his wide eyes shiny with tears. "If Master bonded with Dobby, yes… Dobby would live.”
Harry swallowed hard, then nodded firmly. “Alright, then. Let’s do it.” He extended his hand to let Dobby to touch it.
“I, Harry Potter, bond myself to you, Dobby, you as my house elf and as my… friend.”
As Harry said the words, a soft glow of white and gold magic flared between them, and for a second, he saw a tall figure in his mind, but just as quickly, it was gone. The magic faded, leaving a warmth in his chest that made Harry feel lighter somehow. That was… different.
Dobby gasped. “Dobby is bonded!” His voice rang out. Dobby’s skin seemed to brighten, and he looked healthier almost instantly, his face glowing with pure joy. Tears streamed down his face again. “Thank you, Great Master Harry Potter, sir! Dobby is forever grateful. Dobby feels… Dobby never felt this good before!”
Harry smiled at the sight of his now-revitalized friend. “You’re welcome, Dobby. I’m glad I could help.” Then, more seriously, he asked, “Now, Dobby, I need your help. I need to learn more about the wizarding world, things I’m not being told. Do you know of any place or books that can help me with that?”
Dobby’s ears perked up. “Yes, sir! Hogwarts has many books that could help Master. And maybe some professors could help too.”
“Maybe,” Harry muttered. "But we’ve gotta be careful. I don’t trust the professors... well, not all of them. Professor Flitwick did help me when he saw the bullying, but even he didn’t do much.” Harry frowned, his frustration building.
Dobby nodded energetically. “Dobby understands, sir!” Suddenly, Dobby’s eyes lit up. “Great Master Harry Potter, sir! There is a secret place in Hogwarts where Master can study in private. It is called the Room of Requirement.”
“The Room of Requirement?” Harry repeated, intrigued. “What’s that?”
“It is a magical room, sir. It comes when you need it and becomes whatever Master needs,” Dobby explained. Harry’s eyes widened. “That sounds… perfect! Do you know where it is?”
Dobby bobbed his head. “Yes, sir! It’s on the seventh floor.”
“Brilliant!” Harry said, feeling a spark of excitement. “Is it a secret room?”
“Yes, sir,” Dobby confirmed. “You must wish three times what you need, then the room will appear.” Harry grinned. “Let’s go, Dobby.”
With a nod, Dobby took Harry’s hand, and with a pop, they vanished, reappearing on the seventh floor of Hogwarts.
• • •
Harry narrowed his eyes at the wall, focusing on the spot where Barnabas the Barmy had tried to teach trolls ballet. He bit his lip, thinking, unsure of what would happen next.
"What now, Dobby?" Harry asked, turning to the house-elf, his green eyes questioning.
"Master Harry needs to think about what he wants, three times, sir," Dobby reminded him with a slight bow.
Harry gave a small nod, taking in a deep breath. It sounded simple, but he wasn't sure it would work. Turning back to the wall, he spoke aloud, just in case.
"Alright... I need a place to learn everything about the Wizarding world. I need a place to learn everything about the Wizarding world. I need a place to learn everything about the Wizarding world."
Just as he finished, a large door appeared in the stone wall, towering above him. His heart skipped a beat, and with a shaky hand, he pushed it open. The door creaked, but easily swung inward, revealing a room that took his breath away.
Harry’s eyes widened as he took in the scene before him. The room—no, a massive library—stretched farther than Hogwarts itself. Rows upon rows of towering bookshelves filled with books and tomes lined the walls. The air smelled like parchment and a hint of something sweet, like flowers after rain.
Harry stepped inside, his shoes tapping lightly against the polished marble floor. Everything seemed... peaceful.
There were flowers here too, bright and strange. Orchids, lilies, and others he didn’t recognize bloomed along the edges of the room, their colors standing out against the wooden shelves. Harry brushed his fingers against a soft petal, and for a moment, he felt an odd kind of magic hum through his skin. And it felt... nice.
He wandered deeper, his eyes drawn to an ornate fountain in the center of the room. The water bubbled softly, glowing faintly, and the sound of the water was calming. Next to the fountain, couches and chairs looked inviting, as though waiting for him to sit and stay a while.
Without thinking, Harry sank into a cushy armchair. It was perfect—a place to relax, think, and learn.
"Blimey..." Harry muttered, closing his eyes for a second, almost afraid to believe a place like this existed.
"This… This is wonderful," Harry mused, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Mm... Room of Requirement... Can you stop time without me aging?"
Harry's brow furrowed as he thought aloud, eyes wandering over the space as if expecting the room itself to answer. He waited, heart thudding quietly in his chest, holding his breath for a sign, some hint that the room had understood.
Then, with a soft swish, a blackboard materialized in front of him, its smooth surface catching the dim light. Harry blinked, taken aback. Neat, chalky writing appeared as if by magic (well, it was magic), spelling out exactly what he needed to know:
Outside_Inside
10 minutes - 6 hours
30 minutes - 18 hours
1 hour - 1 day
5 hours - 1 week
1 day - 1 month
“Wow, that’s cool,” Harry muttered, wonder filling his voice as he stared at the options. He absentmindedly ran a hand through his messy hair, deep in thought.
"Maybe one day is good for the first time," he murmured softly. Nodding to himself.
"It is, Master Harry. I’ll be collecting food for Master Harry for a day," Dobby piped up before vanishing with a quick pop.
Harry barely had time to react before he sighed. "Ah... right then. Room, I need to learn the basics of the wizarding world. Can you recommend some books for me?"
Books flew toward him like excited birds, their pages fluttering as they made their way into his hands. He grinned, catching them one by one and stacking them on his lap. His eyes scanned the titles, curiosity bubbling up with each one.
British Wizarding World
Muggle-born’s Guide to the Wizarding World
Goblins and Gringotts
All You Need to Know About the Wizarding World
Hogwarts: A History
Ancient and Noble Houses
With a quiet hum, Harry chose the Muggle-born’s Guide to the Wizarding World and cracked it open, the worn pages soft under his fingers.
Just as he settled into his reading, the sound of pop echoed through the library. Harry looked up to see Dobby reappearing, this time carrying a food basket.
"Thank you, Dobby," Harry said, the smell of fresh bread and pies making his stomach rumble a bit louder than he’d have liked.
He glanced at the door, noticing two clocks had appeared beside the entrance—one marked one hour and the other twenty-four hours. Harry straightened up, rubbing the back of his neck and then nodded to himself, his lips forming a soft smile as he turned back to the book.
He read slowly, fully absorbing the words on the page. Every now and then, his eyes drifted to the clocks. Time ticked forward, but Harry felt no rush, his thoughts completely lost in the book's world.
It was peaceful, just him, the books, and the comforting tick of time paused—at least, for everyone else.
•
Ministry of Magic
The Ministry of Magic was a governing body responsible for overseeing the use of magic within Britain, as well as the protection of magical creatures and the promotion of peace and harmony between wizards and witches. Its headquarters were located in a large and impressive building in London.
The Minister of Magic was a powerful figure and was responsible for making sure that all magical activities were conducted responsibly and with respect for the laws of both the wizarding world and the Muggle world. All wizards and witches were required to register with the Ministry in order to be able to practise magic.
The Ministry of Magic was responsible for the enforcement of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, which ensured that the wizarding world remained secret from the non-magical world. It also kept track of magical artefacts, creatures and plants and monitored the magical activity of witches and wizards in Britain.
The Ministry of Magic was highly esteemed by the wizarding community of Britain, and its importance was undeniable. It was a symbol of order and regulation and a reminder of the need to respect the laws of both the wizards and the Muggles.
The Ministry was founded over three centuries ago when the first of the great wizarding families of Britain was established. Its mission is to ensure the safety and security of the magical community and to keep the laws and regulations of the magical world in order.
The Ministry is made up of several different departments, each of which deals with a specific aspect of the magical world. These departments include the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, the Department for International Magical Cooperation, the Department for the Promotion of Wizarding Education, and the Department for Magical Law Enforcement.
At the head of the Ministry is the Minister for Magic, who is elected to a five-year term. He or she is responsible for overseeing all aspects of the Ministry and is assisted by a council of senior officials. The Minister is also the public face of the Ministry and is responsible for representing it in the media and at public events.
The Ministry is a formidable force in the wizarding world, and it is essential that it is respected and feared. Without its regulations and protection, the wizarding world would be in chaos. It is a symbol of strength and power and a reminder of the importance of the magic that binds us all.
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Gringotts Wizarding Bank
Goblins own and run the sole bank in the wizarding world, Gringotts Wizarding Bank. In the year 1474, a goblin by the name of Gringott invented it. The main offices are in London, UK, near the northern end of Diagon Alley.
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Noble houses
The British nobility also had a presence in the realm of magic. An aristocratic dynasty that can trace its roots back through the past is known as the Noble House in Britain. They serve in the House of Lords, the main body of the Wizengamot, much as they have for generations. The Norman dynasty gave the ruling Muggle monarch the authority to identify a Noble House as such by royal decree.
Abbott - Noble
Acting regent - Sandra Abbott née Wall
Heir - Hannah Abbott
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Black - Noble and Most Ancient
Lord - Arcturus Black III
Heir - Sirius Black III
2nd heir - Harrison Potter
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'Harrison Potter? Who was that? Was it me or another person?' Harry thought, feeling anxious.
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Dumbledore - Noble
Lord - Albus Dumbledore
Heir - Aberforth Dumbledore
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'Wow… Does Dumbledore have a son? Maybe a brother?' Harry wondered.
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Longbottom - Noble and Most Ancient
Acting Regent - Augusta Longbottom née Crouch
Heir - Neville Longbottom
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Malfoy- Noble
Lord - Lucius Malfoy
Heir - Draconic Malfoy
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'Draconic? Hmm… Draco must be the short name. So my short name might be Harry.' Harry hummed thoughtfully.
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Potter - Noble and Most Ancient
Acting Regent - Albus Dumbledore
Heir - Harrison Potter
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'Oh, Merlin…. Harrison is his name. It's better than Harry. And Dumbledore is his regent. He never told me about it. He is using my power without my knowledge.' he thought angrily.
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Peverell - Noble and Most Ancient
Lord - N/A
Possible Heir - Harrison Potter
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Gryffindor - Imperial and Most Ancient
Lord - N/A
Heir - Harrison Potter
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'How the... Nah, he should first do some research.
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Slytherin - Imperial and Most Ancient
Lord - N/A
Possible heir - Tom Riddle II
Harrison Potter
Possible heir? What's that mean? Is that why the whole school thought he was the heir? He hummed thoughtfully as he searched for the possible heir, Mean.
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Possible heir
When it comes to a possible heir, it means the person has some family magic of the possible family. But to become the heir, he or she must pass the test, given by the heir ring. But that doesn't mean he or she will have access to full family magic. You need to be lord of the house to have access to Full Family Magic.
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He needed to get a handle on his finances. He was heir to two houses, second heir to another, and possibly heir to two more. How was he supposed to act like an heir when he didn’t even know what that meant? Maybe Lady Hogwarts could help him sort out this mess.
“Lady Hogwarts,” he muttered, pushing the book aside, “is there a way to check the status of my finances?”
A bowl, a piece of parchment, and a knife blinked into existence before him. He blinked right back at them, tilting his head slightly. Was this part of it? He tapped his fingers on the table, trying to recall where he'd seen this before. Then it hit him—an inheritance test from one of the books.
Without a second thought, he took the knife, feeling its cold edge as he pressed it against his finger. The sting bit quick, a single drop forming at the tip before he let it fall into the bowl, then another, and one more.
The wound sealed almost immediately. He flexed his hand, watching the bowl begin to glow softly, pulsing like it had a heartbeat of its own. He leaned in, his hand hovering just above the table as letters started to scrawl themselves across the parchment.
Here goes nothing. Harry Muttered.
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Inheritance Test Result
Name:
Harrison James Potter
Birthday:
31st July 1980
Parents:
James Charles Potter (Deceased)
Lilly Elizabeth Potter nee Evans (Deceased)
Sirius Orion Black (Blood Adopted)
God Parents:
Sirius Orion Black (Full Oath sworn)
Remus John Lupin
Peter Patrick Pettrigrew
Alice Maria Longbottom nee Fortescue
Marlene McKinnon (Full Oath sworn) (Deceased)
Blood States:
Pure Blood High Magus
Heir to the:
Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter
The Imperial and Most Ancient House of Gryffindor
Second Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
Possible heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Peverell
Possible heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Slytherin
Magical Core:
Gold
Magic Core
(85% Blocked by JCP)
Horcrux - Tom Marvolo Riddle
(100% blocked by APWBD, 23% broken.)
Potter Family Magic 72%
(100% Blocked by APWBD, 17% broken)
Gryffindor Family Magic 65%
(100% Blocked by APWBD, 13% broken)
Peverell Family Magic 21%
(100% Blocked by APWBD)
Black Family Magic 46%
(100% Blocked by APWBD, 2% broken)
Slytherin Family Magic 19%
(100% blocked by APWBD, 11% broken)
Abilities: (85% Blocked by JCP)
Photographic Memory (Potter Family)
Animagus (Potter Family)
Occlumency (Potter Family)
Language affinity (Gryffindor Family)
Battle magic (Gryffindor Family)
Ice element (Peverell Family)
Full Metamorphmagus (Black Family)
Parseltongue (Slytherin Family)
Parsel Magic (Slytherin Family)
Possible Creature Blood:
Veela
Wyvern
Nature Lord
Kitsune
Neko
Magical familiars:
Hedwig the snowy owl
Possible familiars:
Greek Basilisk, Royal Ice Phoenix
Life debts From:
Severus Tobias Snape
Ginerva Molly Weasley
Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter:
Harry Potter Trust Vault - 687:
2000 Galleons
17 000 Sickles
1 280 nuts
Heir Vault - 430
10 000 Galleons
890 Sickles
348 knuts
Heirlooms
Family Vault - 187
8 243 076 Galleons
490 367 Sickles
190 000 knuts
Heirlooms
Properties:
Potter Castle (Viola continent)
Potter Cottage (Godric’s Hollow)
Potter Manor (Scotland)
Ivy House (California)
Potter Summer House (New Zealand)
The Shrieking Shack (Hogsmeade Village)
The Imperial and Most Ancient House of Gryffindor
Heir Vault - 24
10 000 Galleons
Heirlooms
Family Vault - 17
40 000 000 Galleons
Heirlooms
Properties:
Vioa continent
Gryffindor Castle (Viola continent)
Hogwarts Castle
Forbidden forest
Hogsmeade Village
Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
Heir Vault - 328
10 000 Galleons
Heirlooms
Sirius Black Vault - 619
680 Galleons
26 078 Knuts
Properties:
12 Grimmauld Place (London)
Noble and Most Ancient House of Peverell
Family Vault - 139
600 000 Galleons
HeRelics
Properties:
Peverell Manor (Scotland)
Noble and Most Ancient House of Slytherin
Heir Vault - 47
10 000 Galleons
Heirlooms
Family Vault - 24
39 000 Galleons
Heirlooms
Withdrawals:
200 Galleons Monthly To Vernon Dursley by APWBD (Since November 1981)
100 Galleons Monthly To Arabella Figg by APWBD (Since November 1981)
Invisibility cloak by APWBD (1981)
34 books by APWBD (1981)
Potter Family Grimoire by APWBD (1981)
41 Items by APWBD (1982)
50 Galleons, 100 Sickles, 100 knuts by HJP (1991)
30 Galleons to Molly Weasley by APWBD (1992)
500 Galleons by MAWP (1992)
________________________________
Harry’s eyes flicked over the parchment, his brain struggling to keep up with the information spilling in front of him. Each line felt heavier than the last. He tried to wrap his head around it all—the family vaults, the properties, the heirs, the... bloodlines. It was as if his life had been one giant puzzle, and suddenly, all the pieces were being dumped at his feet. But not quite fitting together just yet.
And the vaults. He had three? No, four? Five? His brain spun. He’d never even known he had a vault until his first trip to Gringotts, and now there were... millions of galleons? And land? Potter Castle? Gryffindor Castle? Even Hogwarts?
He took a shaky breath, his mind trying to grab onto something solid. But it was all blocked, somehow. Everything—his abilities, his magic, even his family’s powers—locked up tight, thanks to... Dumbledore? Why? The question burned in his chest, but now wasn’t the time to chase after that mystery. He couldn’t. Not yet.
His fingers ran over the words “life debts.” Snape owed him? Ginny owed him? He sat back, staring at the parchment like it had just bitten him. Nothing made sense, and yet, here it was, in black and white.
And what the hell is a horcrux. Tom Riddle. A knot twisted deep in his stomach. Thats not good.
Harry’s grip tightened around the parchment, knuckles turning white as his eyes scanned the words again, his breath catching. He couldn’t believe it. His eyes stopped at the line about withdrawals—200 Galleons monthly to Vernon Dursley.
The Dursleys were getting paid? Paid. To treat him like garbage, to lock him in cupboards, to starve him. And they were pocketing money for it. The knot in his stomach twisted into something uglier, something angrier.
And Figg? The old cat lady? She’d been in on it too, taking 100 Galleons a month for “watching” him all these years. Pretending she was just a harmless, batty neighbor. His throat burned, and his jaw clenched.
His gaze dropped lower, stopping again. Invisibility cloak. Taken by Dumbledore in 1981. It wasn’t a loan? He said it had belonged to his father, given to him to keep safe. But here it was, listed like it had been taken. Stolen. The man he’d trusted, the one who was supposed to be looking out for him, had been lying from the start.
Harry’s grip tightened around the parchment, knuckles turning white as his eyes scanned the words again, his breath catching. He couldn’t believe it. His eyes stopped at the line about withdrawals—200 Galleons monthly to Vernon Dursley.
The Dursleys were getting paid? Paid. To treat him like garbage, to lock him in cupboards, to starve him. And they were pocketing money for it. The knot in his stomach twisted into something uglier, something angrier.
And Figg? The old cat lady? She’d been in on it too, taking 100 Galleons a month for “watching” him all these years. Pretending she was just a harmless, batty neighbor. His throat burned, and his jaw clenched.
His gaze dropped lower, stopping again. Invisibility cloak. Taken by Dumbledore in 1981. It wasn’t a loan? He said it had belonged to his father, given to him to keep safe. But here it was, listed like it had been taken. Stolen. The man he’d trusted, the one who was supposed to be looking out for him, had been lying from the start.
The anger simmered in his chest, flaring hotter with each discovery. Thirty galleons to Mrs. Weasley. That, he could understand. He had stayed at the Burrow, eaten their food, and they didn’t have much to spare. But what he couldn’t wrap his head around was the next line—500 galleons.
Five hundred.
Mrs. Weasley had only ever given him 100 galleons for his supplies, making it seem like she was doing him a favor. But where had the rest gone? Why didn’t she tell him? His fingers curled into fists, his knuckles straining, the betrayal biting deep. Why would she need that much? What was going on behind his back?
They were all stealing from him, using him, without him even knowing. He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears, fists shaking now. Everything he thought he knew, all those years, all those people—it was a lie.
Dumbledore, he thought bitterly, swallowing the bile rising in his throat. Why? What was he playing at?
And then the block in his magical core. He stared at the parchment, his mind racing. Having read Magical Theory by Caspian Nott, Harry could almost understand his father's decision to bind his magic—protecting him from danger, perhaps, or from being overwhelmed at a young age. But still...
What he feared most, the thought that made his stomach twist, was whether it was too late now.Had keeping his magic bound for so long caused damage? Would unblocking it even work after all these years?
____________________________
_Magical theory by Caspian Nott_
Magical blocks
Magical blocks are classified into two types.
Core Block
Ability block
Core Block
When a powerful child is born, their Magic is often blocked by a healer or a parent. because accidental magic can be harmful. Yet, blocking magic could not last permanently. That would consume the child's magic. As a result, parents must be aware that they must unblock their child's magic when the child is between the ages of 6 and 10 years old. When the core is blocked in rare circumstances, abilities are mostly blocked. If you are unsure to unblock the child's magic Gringotts offers to unblock a magical core for a fee.
A prisoner who is too powerful to contain requires at least a 25% core block, which is another reason for a core block.
_________________________________
Few Hours later..
With a steadying breath, Harry picked up the knife again, his hand trembling ever so slightly as he brought it to his other finger. The parchment lay flat on the table, waiting. He hesitated only for a moment before slicing through his skin, watching as three droplets of blood pooled and then fell onto the surface. His voice was quiet but firm as he chanted, the words feeling oddly familiar on his tongue.
"Cum sanguine meo, ostende mihi plenam eventum salutis...
Cum sanguine meo, ostende mihi plenam eventum salutis...
Cum sanguine meo, ostende mihi plenam eventum salutis..."
For a beat, there was silence, and then—letters began to form, swirling across the parchment as though written by invisible hands.
Harry leaned in, fingers gripping the edges of the parchment tightly. The words, now fully visible, stared back at him. Taking a deep breath, he lifted the parchment off the table and began to read.
Diagnosis of Harrison Potter
Age 0-01:
BIS Vaccine (Baby immune system)
Dragon Pox Vaccine
Minor cold
Parental Magical Block (85%)
Parental Ability Block (85%)
Age 01-02:
Killing Curse
Living Horcrux
Family Magic (100%)
Malnutrition
Magical flu
Age 02-03:
Malnutrition
Pisiform bone broken
dehydrated
Age 03-04:
Malnutrition
Minor burns
Accidental magic
a concussion
dehydrated
Age 04-05:
Malnutrition
Minor burns
broken wrist
dehydrated
Age 05-06:
Malnutrition
Minor burns
Accidental magic
Clavicle bone broken
dehydrated
Age 06-07:
Malnutrition
Accidental magic
Few broken bones
dehydrated
Age 07-08:
Malnutrition
Few broken bones
Minor burns
dehydrated
Age 07-08:
Malnutrition
Few broken bones
a concussion
dehydrated
Age 08-09:
Malnutrition
Accidental magic
dehydrated
Age 09-10:
Malnutrition
dehydrated
Age 10-11:
Malnutrition
Few broken bones
Accidental magic
Age 11-12:
Minor burns
Legilimency attack
Few broken bones
Minor burns
confundus charm - Find mirror of arises
Legilimency attack
confundus charm - interest in the third-floor corridor
confundus charm - save Philosopher's Stone
Legilimency attack
Attempted possession
Magical exhaustion
Legilimency attack
Age 12-13:
Malnutrition
Few broken bones
dehydrated
Legilimency attack
Vanish bones
Confusion Hex
Horn tongue hex
Pepper Breath
Twitchy-Ears Hex
confundus charm - Write TMR Diary
Attempted possession
Bat-Bogey Hex
confundus charm - search who the Slytherin heir is
Impediment Hex
Knee-Reversal Hex
Bee-Sting Jinx
Dangling Jinx
Jelly-Legs Jinx
Pimple Jinx
confundus charm - Save Ginny Weasley
Basilisk venom
Phoenix tears
Minor concussion
Legilimency attack
Harry stared down at the parchment, the diagnosis swirling in his head, making his stomach churn. He felt like he'd been slapped, like the years with the Dursleys were crashing over him all at once. His jaw tightened as his eyes scanned the words. They’d always made him feel small, worthless—like he didn't belong.
The Dursleys hadn’t just been awful. They’d made it their mission to strip him of anything good, anything that might make him more than just the 'freak' under their roof. No love, no kindness. Just chores, insults, and the constant reminder that he wasn’t welcome. And now, knowing they’d been paid to "look after" him? That hit harder than any of Uncle Vernon’s glares or Dudley’s punches.
His breath came out in a harsh exhale. Growing up with the Dursleys had been hell. He knew that. But he had always told himself it would get better, that eventually, he’d be free of them. Now, he realized they had been cashing in on him the whole time, not out of obligation, but greed. The way Aunt Petunia’s face always twisted in disgust whenever she looked at him, the way Uncle Vernon’s veins bulged in his neck when he barked out orders. The bruises from Dudley that never quite healed fast enough. It was all because of the money. Money they’d never mentioned.
But the worst part—the part that made Harry’s hands shake—wasn’t the chores or the insults. It was that they had tried to keep him from magic. From who he really was. They’d made him feel like he didn’t deserve it. That he wasn't enough.
A bitter laugh escaped him. The Dursleys had never broken him, no matter how hard they tried. But now, he realized that while they hadn’t destroyed him, they had taken pieces of him without him even knowing. He was angry, yes—angrier than he’d ever been. But he was done being their victim.
He slammed the parchment down, teeth gritting. He wouldn't let them win, not anymore. They had controlled his life for long enough. Sure, he wasn’t going to ruin someone else's life like they'd done to him—he wasn’t that kind of person. But no one could blame him for wanting a little payback, just enough to make them see he wasn't the scared, powerless kid they’d always pushed around.
____________________________
Day 02.. (Another hour in outside.)
Harry sat back in his chair, fingers drumming nervously on the desk as the word “Horcrux” bounced around in his mind. It felt wrong—sinister, even. But he couldn’t shake the thought. After all, Voldemort somehow involved in this.
He took a deep breath, glancing around the Room of Requirement. “My Lady,” he called softly. “Are there any books that mention ‘Horcrux’?”
With a soft rustle, books began to appear, their spines glowing faintly. He reached for the stack that floated gently to the table. As he read the titles, a chill crept down his spine.
Black Arts
Soul Magic
Dark Magic: You Should Never Do
The titles sent a shiver through him. Harry's heart raced, pounding in his chest like a warning bell. These were topics he had to tread carefully around. Dark magic wasn’t inherently evil; he knew that. But still, it felt like stepping onto unstable ground.
His fingers brushed against the worn leather of the first book, the weight of it heavy with dread. “What the hell?” he muttered under his breath. Harry swallowed hard. And With a deep breath, he opened the book on Soul Magic.
.
.
.
What is a Horcrux?
A Horcrux was a piece of equipment that a Dark wizard or witch used to store a piece of their soul in order to become immortal. The maker stayed attached to the living world even if their body suffered fatal damage so long as the object and the soul fragment inside it were both intact. The Horcrux was regarded as the worst kind of Dark Magic.
As a way to rip the soul apart, Horcruxes could only be made after committing murder, the height of evil. A spell was used in the production of a Horcrux, and shortly after the murder, a horrifying crime was carried out.
.
.
.
Side effects of Horcrux
Half of your sanity would be taken away when you made a Horcrux. Your skin turns pale, and some of your appearances will vanish. Your magic will be impacted as well.
___________________________
Harry's eyes widened, heart racing as he finished reading the last line. A chill clawed at his insides, creeping up from his stomach to wrap around his throat like a noose.
“I have Voldemort’s piece of soul inside me…?” he shouted, the words bursting from him like a spell gone wrong.
“No… No… He knew. Dumbledore knew. That old goat,” he spat, the anger surging through him like wildfire. His breaths came quick and shallow, each one a desperate gasp. He could feel his lower lip tremble, the tears welling up in his emerald eyes as reality crashed down around him.
With a small sob, he pressed his hands against the table, knuckles white. It felt like the ground beneath him had vanished, leaving him dangling over a dark abyss. How could Dumbledore let this happen? Harry squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears to stay at bay, but they slipped down his cheeks anyway, hot and stinging.
“I can’t believe this…” he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair, frustration bubbling over. “How am I supposed to deal with this?”
____________________________
After catching his breath, Harry leaned back in his chair, thoughts racing like a Quidditch match in his head. He needed a way to get rid of the Horcrux without risking his life, and he was determined to find it.
Flipping through a tattered book on Curse-Breaking, his eyes landed on a passage that made his heart race. A ritual! It could transfer the Horcrux to another object using blood and crystal. But there was a problem—he needed another person to help him pull it off.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Harry weighed his options. Who could he trust with something this huge? Two names popped into his head: Professor Snape and Professor Flitwick.
Flitwick was the first choice. He had always been patient, guiding Harry with a wink and a smile, even when things got tricky. If anyone could help him with this wild plan, it was the Charms professor. But if Flitwick was busy—or worse, said no—he’d have to turn to Snape. The man was skilled in the Dark Arts, and Snape owed him a life debt. That had to mean something, right?
___________________________________
New Day Outside
After a week spent in the Room of Requirement, Harry finally felt ready to leave. He’d spent the time wisely—more than just learning the basics of the British wizarding world. It had been... fascinating.
But it wasn’t just the usual stuff he’d been reading about. Nah, he’d gone deeper, finding a ritual to heal his body. The catch? It was going to hurt. A lot. Still, Harry figured it was worth it. If it could make him almost healthy again, he'd put up with the pain. Not everything could be fixed though, and his magical core? Yeah, that was another story. Way too complicated for him to handle alone, and honestly, he didn’t trust himself to mess with it after what he’d already been through.
He exhaled slowly, brushing a hand through his already-messy hair. He'd made progress. And that, at least, was something.
Harry walked toward the Great Hall, his steps a little slower than usual. He knew Hermione was still in the hospital wing—Snape hadn’t given her the potion yet. And Ron? He was probably still in the dorm room, either sleeping or playing chess by himself.
Harry thought for a moment. Maybe he should go talk to Ron. Tell him everything. He didn’t want to drag Ron into this mess more than he already had, but Ron was his first real friend, his best friend. Yeah... he deserved to know. And besides, Harry had a plan. He could give Ron one of the pieces of jewelry he found with an Occlumency shield on it. That way, no one would be able to sneak into Ron’s mind.
The twins... yeah, maybe they could get involved too. They were sharp, always coming up with something clever. And Harry, well, he needed more people he could trust. He didn’t want to handle everything alone.
Harry turned and started heading to the Gryffindor dorm. As he made his way through the quiet halls, he spotted the twins in a corner, whispering to each other like they always did. Their heads were close, mischief practically radiating off them. He approached, and the moment they noticed him, the talking stopped.
“Well, well, our dear Harry,” Fred said, grinning.
“What can we do for you?” George chimed in, his voice just as cheerful. Fred always took the lead, but George wasn’t far behind.
Harry hesitated for a second, then decided to just come out with it. “I may need your help,” he said, his voice low. The playful smiles on their faces quickly vanished, replaced with something more serious.
“Anything.”
“Harry…”
“You know—”
“We’d do anything.”
“You saved our sister after all.”
“Is someone bothering you?”
Harry shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not exactly. But I found something... something important. And I thought I’d involve both of you too. You two are sharper than me and Ron, and I could really use that.”
He watched as the twins exchanged glances, their expressions thoughtful now, no hint of their usual jokes. THarry was glad they weren’t brushing it off.
"Alright."
"Where," Fred started.
"are you," George continued.
"heading?" Fred finished, raising an eyebrow.
"To get Ron," Harry said. "I need to tell him too."
The twins exchanged one of their silent looks again, that twin-speak Harry was sure he’d never fully understand.
"Well then..." Fred began.
"What are..." George chimed in, his grin creeping back.
"we..."
"waiting for?" they finished together, already moving to follow him.
Harry couldn’t help but smile a little at their energy. He needed this—their help, their cleverness, and maybe, just maybe, a bit of their humor too. They had a way of making even the most serious things feel lighter, even if just for a second. And right now, he could use that.
They found Ron lounging on his bed, flipping through a Quidditch magazine. His face lit up with a grin when he saw them walk in.
"Harry, where’ve you been, mate? Woke up and you were gone. Oh, and I already ate, by the way," Ron added, sitting up a bit straighter. Thankfully, the dorm was empty, just the four of them.
"Ronnikins," Fred began.
"Our dear," George picked up.
"Brother," they finished in unison, smirking as they always did.
"It seems," Fred continued.
"our Harrykins," George added with a sly grin.
"found something."
"And wants to," Fred started.
"tell us," George finished, both staring expectantly at Harry.
Ron raised an eyebrow at Harry, leaning forward a bit, his hands resting on his knees as he tilted his head. His lips pressed into a thin line for a second before he spoke. "Really?" he asked, his fingers tapping nervously on the bedpost, eyes flicking between Harry and the twins, trying to gauge the situation. Harry nodded, confirming what the twins said.
"Not here. I know a place we can talk," Harry added, glancing around as if the walls had ears.
"Are you now?" George wiggled his eyebrows, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.
"Yeah... Can we go now?" Harry shifted on his feet, impatience creeping in as he glanced back at the door.
"No prob, mate. Let's go," Fred said, slapping Ron on the back, urging him to join in.
"My lady, Hogwarts, can you take us to the ROR?" Harry said, a smirk forming at the corner of his lips.
Just as he finished speaking, a door appeared in the right wall with a soft whoosh. Ron gasped, eyes wide, while the twins erupted into cackles.
"Good one, Harrykins!" they said in unison, their laughter echoing off the stone walls, lightening the mood as they stepped through the doorway.
When they stepped inside, Ron gasped again, his eyes wide. "Blimmy..." he muttered.
"Wow... mate... wow..." Ron stammered, turning to Harry. "Where the hell did you find this place?"
"In Hogwarts..." Harry said, trying to suppress a giggle as Ron's face lit up.
"We got that, alright..." Fred chimed in, his grin growing wider.
"Let’s go and sit. This is gonna be a long talk," Harry said, gesturing for them to follow. He led them to a plush sofa. Ron and the twins flopped onto the long sofa, sinking into the cushions, while Harry settled into a single sofa across from them, crossing his legs in a casual pose.
Harry took a deep breath, his fingers fidgeting as he glanced at his friends. "Okay, listen up," he said, leaning forward slightly, hands clasped in front of him. "I've been thinking… I barely know the wizarding world. Like, really know it. And honestly, I’ve felt... off about everything for a while now. So, I decided to figure things out. Get some answers." His voice trailed off for a second, but he continued. "And for some reason, I thought of Dobby. He’s the one who told me about this place, actually. This room—it’s called the Room of Requirement. It gives you what you need."
Ron’s brow furrowed, but the twins were more relaxed, exchanging glances.
"Okay Harrykins... go on," one of them said.
"Right. So, after I got here, I found out this room can mess with time. I mean, in here, a whole day can pass, and outside, only an hour goes by." Harry rubbed his temples, trying to explain it all without sounding crazy. "So, I asked the room for some books—just basic stuff. I realized I didn’t know half of what I should. They were books meant for Muggle-borns and kids raised by Muggles, and it hit me… I never got those. I mean, my professors never bothered to check if I even knew the basics. And let’s be real, my aunt knew some stuff, but she didn’t have a clue about what was in those books."
He glanced at Ron, who had shifted forward in his seat, his curiosity visible in the way his head tilted slightly. The twins were still silent, but Harry could tell he had their full attention.
"Anyway," Harry went on, his voice a little softer now, "I also read about noble houses. Turns out... I’m an heir. I didn’t know that. All I knew was about my trust fund, nothing more. So, I did an inheritance test, and what I found... well, it was pretty interesting."
"And that’s why I wanted to talk to you guys." Harry paused for a second, letting that sink in. His eyes met Ron’s for a brief moment before looking at the twins.
"I want you to do an inheritance test too. I think it’s important."
"Can you show us what you found, Harry?" Ron asked, shifting forward, his eyes flicking between Harry and the paper beside him.
"Yeah, sure." Harry reached over to the small table next to him, grabbing the inheritance test results he'd kept there. He hesitated for a moment, then handed it over to Ron.
Ron took it, his eyes widening as he scanned the parchment. The twins leaned in, Fred practically standing over his brother's shoulder. George sat back, tapping his fingers on the armrest, waiting for the reaction.
"What the—" Ron started, then stopped, clearly trying to process everything.
"Blimey, Harry, this... this is mad. I mean, look at all this. You’re not just the heir to one house, you’ve got—" he paused, his mouth hanging open slightly.
"Multiple," Harry finished for him, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Yeah, apparently I’ve inherited a few things. Not just from my parents, either. It's a bit... overwhelming."
Fred snatched the paper from Ron’s hands, scanning through it quickly. "Well, I’ll be damned... And here we thought you were just our savior from moldy old You-Know-Who." He grinned but there was seriousness behind it.
"And here we find out you’re also rolling in vaults of gold," George added, whistling under his breath as he leaned over to look at the results. "Harrykinks, you’ve been holding out on us."
"You have a block on your magic?" Ron practically shouted after he saw that.
"And family magic too?!" Fred chimed in, his eyes narrowing.
"That's not good, Harry," George picked up, crossing his arms.
"Not good at all," Fred finished, shaking his head.
"I agree," Harry muttered. "I’m planning to meet a professional once we get home."
"Home?" Fred raised an eyebrow.
"You’re not going back to the Dursleys, right?" George added, leaning in, suspicious.
"No," Harry sighed, rubbing his temples.
"I’m gonna choose a house. Just... later."
"And they got paid too..." Fred muttered darkly.
"Dumbledore stole from you?!" George jumped in, his face twisting in anger.
"And the Potter Family Grimoire?" Fred’s voice dropped dangerously low.
"That's a dementor kiss crime, mate." George finished, practically seething.
"No one outside the family can have that."
"Yeah, mate," Ron spoke up suddenly, his brows furrowed in confusion.
"And... wait, why did Mum bring 500 galleons? She only gave you 100. I saw her hand it to you."
"I don't know, maybe Dumbledore said it was okay or something?" Harry shrugged, though the unease in his voice was obvious.
"But how can he even do that?" Fred asked, frowning.
"He's not listed as your magical guardian," George pointed out. "And... you don’t even have a magical guardian."
"Exactly," Fred continued, "with you being the last of the Potter line, you can be the Lord Potter. You’d be automatically emancipated."
"And why the hell would Mum accept anything?" Ron cut in, his face red with frustration. "It's not our money. I don’t like talking about how we don’t have much, but still, this is wrong."
"Yeah, Harrikins," Fred added, his usual humor absent.
"It'll be fine, guys," Harry said, meeting each of their eyes. "We’ll ask her about it later, maybe with your dad there. He’s still the head of your house. If he didn’t know, he should."
“Good idea,” Ron muttered, nodding with a touch of relief.
"Let's do an inheritance test, then," Fred said, glancing at George.
"You wanted us to, right?" George chimed in.
"Yep. And a diagnostic too," Harry added. "I found a few... interesting things I’ll show you after. But let’s start here. Lady Hogwarts, would you, please?”
At once, three bowls, slips of parchment, and small silver knives appeared on the table before them.
"I hope you know how to do an inheritance test?” Harry asked, looking over.
"Yeah, no worries, mate," Ron replied, already slicing his finger and letting three drops of blood fall into the bowl. Fred and George followed suit, their faces focused as they added their own drops.
Ron gripped the parchment a little tighter, eyes skimming over the lines again, as if he hadn’t quite absorbed it all.
“Bloody hell…” he whispered, almost to himself. The whole thing… it felt so big, too big, like he’d been given a map to a world he hadn’t known existed.
Fred put a hand on Ron’s shoulder, his touch steady. “Our brother…” he started, an odd note of pride mixed in his tone.
“We always knew you had a bit more in ya,” George added, nodding.
Ron managed a lopsided grin, though it was tinged with something darker. “Makes sense now, doesn’t it?” He looked up at Harry, his expression hardening. “Reckon it’s time to get this sorted, mate.”
Harry gave a supportive nod. “Yeah, Ron. We’re going to figure it all out. One step at a time.”
See you on November 1st at 1:00 PM Sri Lankan time.