Chapter 3
Dear Merlin. Griphook stared wide eyed at the parchment, then back at the younger teen who sat on the opposite side of him. "Merlin. I- Mr.Prince, you- I-" Griphook then cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "I apologize, but it has been awhile since the last person who's known to have this much heirships, lordships." Harry then jerked his head up to the Goblin. "Who?"
Harry kept his nonchalance, despite wanting to be suprise, express it, he could do that later. Now he need answers, answers that for sure Guphook could provide. "Mr. Riddle.. 50 or so years ago, I remember it clearly Mr.Prince- your name was written as his soulmate. I believe there has to be an explaination on why he went to the Potters that night.. I understand that no Goblin should involve themselves in the problems of the wizards and witches but- for so long I have become the one and only Goblin Manager of the Potters, Peverells ancestors. I wish to help you, I wish to avenge your ancestors. They have treated me with respect and them in return, despite you not being originally a Potter, the prince has been a friend of the sort for many centuries and so. If you will have me ofcourse.
Harry's eyes widen at that. He could use this, he could get help. "Yes, yes that- I'd like that, please.." Griphook nodded, a small smile making it's way to it's lips. "Good, now I know you have many questions. Let me start of, I may not have answers to all but- I have kept this for so long. Severus, your father was a respectable man, he became bitter all of the sudden a year before you were born, I never knew why, I never asked. He isolated himself in his home, spinners end I believe. He never visited the bank, and if he did, he would request another Goblin to access him, I was a little disappointed but I cannot do anything on that matter. Mrs.Malfoy, shared my concern for Severus, yes Mrs.Malfoy, Narcissa and I often have tea together discussing what is needed
The topic of Severus came up and so, she confided in me, I have tried reaching out to Master Snape but to no avail." Harry nodded, maybe- his mother, it was never known, maybe- maybe she or he died? Could men ever become pregnant? Was that a possibility? "C- could men get pregnant?" Ack! Wait what? Why did I ask that? Griphook, having thrown off by the sudden question just chuckled, understanding where it came from.
"Only wizards who are magically powerful enough are blessed with the possibility of baring a child, gifted by lady magic herself. Making the child strong, and intelligent, but not by magically powerful but shared a genuine love for one another. So yes, it is a possibility." Harry gaped at that, okay, so maybe- maybe- ugh whatever, let's set aside that for now.
"Snape- before he became- bitter as you say. Did he show any hint that he might be in love Griphook. And also I do appreciate this, not one person has ever offered I help me, no adult did." Harry cast his eyes down and blink some tears that were starting to form on his face. "Sorry- just getting a little emotional."
Griphook chuckled and waved his hand, a handkerchief appeared, then handed it to the younger teen who accepted it in thanks before continuing. "Yes I do believe he has, during one of our afternoon tea, two years I believe, and that included your parents passing. He mentioned a person who he was smitten with. Even mentioned that this said person was said to be it for him, I was happy really. Severus is known to be compassionate when needed. He deserves it. So yes, your father was infact In love."
"But- if he is my father, why cannot he remember me?" Griphook then thought for a moment before speaking. "Glamours..." He then trained his ears over Harry's face, looking it over before eyes went wide, why hadn't he noticed it before? "Yes! Glamours, you Mr.Prince is wearing a Glamour, a strong one at that." Harry then touched his face as his eyes widen along with Griphooks, so that's why he always felt as if he had this second skin, he felt heavy all over. "Is that's why.... Is- is there a way?" Griphook nodded. "Yes, there is a way in removing it but I warn you, it will hurt, having a Glamour long like yourself will take time in removing so persay an hour through the process, there is a possibility of passing out, estimating over a day of rests.... Will you be okay with that Mr.Prince?"
Harry nodded eagerly. "Yes, I- I want to know what I really look like, I can handle it." Despite being afraid of the pain that will surely come, Harry needed to be strong, he has felt pain more than any adult could ever feel. He should be fine, right?
"Very well. We may start now if you wish? There is a certain room we use to remove such Glamours." Harry closed his eyes and nodded standing up, with a new found courage, he was a Gryffindor goddamn it! "Show me the way." Griphook then stood up, leading to the other room, a hallway to be exact. As they reached the end, Griphook then ushered Harry in before closing the doors with a bang.
"Ah, Master Griphook, who might this be?" Another she-Goblin then approached, wearing what seems to be a white gown, similar to what a muggle scientist would wear, kinda cool if you ask me. "This- is Mr.Prince, he wish to remove some Glamours, Mr.Prince, this is Varkra, who will be assisting us throughout the process, Varkra this is Mr.Prince ." Varkra then nodded before turning to Harry. "Well, it's nice to meet you- Mr.Potter?" Varkra stared confused at Harry before looking questionably at Griphook who just shrugged and smirk. "Remember Severus?" Varkra nodded. "His son."
Varkras eyes widen before turning her gaze once more at Harry. "Good God, is it really? It has- I never- Merlin... Does- does Severus know?" Griphook shook his head. "No, not yet It is Harry's decision on when he wants to inform his father of this new found discovery but as for now. The Glamours." Varkra then nodded in understanding before her smile softened. "Very well, I may need you to take of your shirt Mr.Prince, then lay down over there, in the middle of that bed." Harry nodded before taking off of his hoody and shirt, slowly at that, feeling ashamed of his scars, they were ugly to look at, he felt exposed, vulnerable but it is needed.
He then turned to Griphook who stared stoicly at Harrys scar, If he was not mistaken, there was fury in the Goblins eyes that was very rare. "Um- Griphook? Is everything alright?" Griphook snapped his gaze back at Harry. "Dursleys?" Harry nodded slowly. "No child should ever suffer at the hands of a muggle- muggle! I sure do hope they suffer, more worse than you have Harry- or would you prefer Hadrian?" Harry smiled slowly at the Goblin. "Hadrian, I like it better. And soon, they shall but for now. I would like things to be as it is." Griphook nodded before motioning over to the bench at the side. "Place your clothes over there." Hadrian did as told before moving over to the center, there was a sketched circle that sorrounded the bed.
It so it seems to be a ritual of the sort. He recognized it from Hermione's assignments. "Ritual?" Hadrian asked Varkra, who nodded. "Yes, now lay down and relax." The younger teen did as told and tried to relax, no matter what his nerves were still there. "Right. Here." Varkra then handed Harry a vile of potion, yellow colored, odorless at that which he was thankful for, and drank it without question. "It will relax you more. Close your eyes and we shall start shortly." Hadrian released a breath he did not notice he has been keeping in before closing his eyes tightly, preparing of the pain that he expects to come.
In the dimly lit room, the atmosphere thick with magic, Hadrian lay on the bed, encircled by a glowing ritual circle etched into the stone floor. The symbols pulsed faintly, casting a flickering light that seemed to dance with the energy swirling around him. His breaths were shallow, and tension gripped his body as the spellcaster chanted incantations, words reverberating through the air.
As the ritual began, Hadrian felt a searing heat start at the base of his spine, slowly spreading like molten lava crawling through his veins. It wasn't just pain-it was an unraveling, as though his very skin were being peeled away, layer by layer, exposing something raw and hidden beneath. Every nerve screamed in agony, the sensation crawling under his flesh as if invisible claws were tearing at his core, trying to pry apart his form.
His muscles spasmed uncontrollably, body arching off the bed as the glamour that had shielded his true form for so long was stripped away, piece by agonizing piece. He clenched the sheets beneath him, nails digging into the fabric as he fought to keep silent, sweat beading on his forehead, his body trembling with the effort. The magic felt like it was peeling away the illusion and his very soul with it.
Around him, the ritual circle hummed, a constant reminder of the forces binding him within its confines. The symbols glowed brighter, matching the intensity of the pain. Hadrian's head thrashed against the pillow, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, as though it, too, was trying to escape the torment.
Yet, despite the unbearable agony, there was something else-a pull, a beckoning from within the magic itself. The glamour was being unraveled, but it was revealing a deeper truth, an identity he had long forgotten.
Just as then. Voices then could be heard, his name was being called, he wanted to respond, the ritual was done but the pain was very much still there and unbearable. Before he could even respond, he blacked out.