Theft And Hurtful Truths
Harry’s cupboard was a small room under the stairs in his aunt and uncle’s house. This was the first bedroom Harry could remember. The room contained a toddler bed that he could barely fit, the blanket that was wrapped around him when he was dropped off at the Dursleys, a few broken toys bought at a secondhand store, and a homemade calendar. On the calendar, Harry could see that the date was June 24th, 1991—Dudley’s birthday. The trip to the zoo was a disaster for the beginning if Harry could remember correctly. It was starting with the fact that Petunia couldn’t find a babysitter for Harry, forcing them to take him as well. Then Harry brought up a dream of a flying motorcycle, which made Vernon angry. And of course, the accidental magic that Harry performs sets a snake loose in the zoo and traps Dudley in the enclosure. Vernon was on a warpath after that and Harry wants to avoid that happening again.
Trying to figure out a plan on how to get out of this house. He could just sneak out, but then how would he get to London? He could threaten them, but Vernon could easily overpower him since Harry hasn’t used combative magic in years, even wandless. He decides he needs to distract them and get to Petunia’s purse. She always had money on her.
“Freak!” a screech cut off Harry’s train of thought. “Get in here and make breakfast!”
Groaning, Harry gets up and slowly makes his way into the kitchen. Quickly grabbing a pan, turning on the stove, and grabbing everything he would need from the fridge, Harry begins making the family breakfast. Suddenly, heavy footsteps make their way down the stairs in an excited manner. Great, Dudley is awake. Harry, realizing that Dudley’s complaining about his presents would be the best distraction, quickly finishes making what was in front of him.
“How many are there?” Dudley asks quickly after noticing all the presents. Harry knew where this was going to go, so he didn’t pay attention. Silently, Harry placed a Notice-Me-Not charm on himself, praying it took, and made his way to Petunia’s purse.
“36. Counted ‘em myself,” Vernon answers confidently. Harry shakes his head at this, that was the wrong thing to say. Harry quietly grabs the bag, pulling out the wallet.
“36? But last year, last year, I had 37!” Dudley angrily whines. Harry didn’t care. Quickly snatching the money, he puts the purse back in its exact spot.
“Err, yes well, some of them are quite a bit bigger than last year,” Vernon says, trying to calm down his son. By this time, Harry had made it into the hallway, trying to get to the front door. Slowly turn the lock, trying not to make any noise.
“I don’t care how big they are!” Dudley yells. Harry uses this to shut the door.
He was free. Deciding not to remove the charm because Harry remembered that Mrs. Figg from across was a squib and a spy for Dumbledore. If she saw that he had left, it would be reported to Dumbledore and he would be forced to go back. Running down the street, Harry finds a bus stop. Perfect. London, here I come.
Walking down a cramped street, Harry sees The Leaky Cauldron. Quickly, he moves his hair to hide his scar while making it to the front door. He slowly opens it. Making a silent prayer to not get recognized, he steps in. Ignoring the soft chatter around him, he goes to the bar to get help from Tom the barkeep.
“Hi! Is it possible for you to open the wall to Diagon Alley for me?” Harry asks kindly.
“Of course. But where are your parents?” Tom asks, his voice filled with concern. Sighing, Harry could lie but wasn’t sure that would be for the best. Luckily, the man didn’t recognize him.
“They are sadly dead and my current guardians aren’t very fond of magic, so they dropped me off, believing I would be okay,” Harry answered truthfully, kinda. Tom nods understandingly.
‘I’m sorry for your loss. I can open the wall for you and if you were to need any help, I’m sure someone in the alley would be willing,” Tom informs the boy in front of him.
With that, the pair head to the side door leading to Diagon Alley. Tom taps the wall in a familiar pattern and the bricks begin to move and part, creating a path through.
“Well, there you go. Good luck and remember that if you need any help just ask. I would recommend going to Gringotts first,” Tom says, pointing to the tall, lopsided building at the end of the road.
Quickly thanking the man, Harry makes his way to the mentioned building. Not only to get some spending money but to finally figure out why there are blocks on his core and to get them removed before problems start showing up again. Staring at the grand silver doors, he notices the engraved words that warn everyone to be careful with what visitors say and do because there will be consequences. Harry knew this, having had to deal with these consequences himself. Smiling, he bows to the two guarding goblins and enters, not noticing the look of shock on their faces. Inside was an extremely tall and long room that made up the lobby. On each side of the lobby were large counters that stretched the length of the room with dozens of goblins working. At the end of the hall was a podium with a goblin writing in a large book.
Harry approaches the teller at the end. He waits for the teller to notice him because he knows that the goblins can get very irritated when a wizard interrupts their work.
“What can I do for you, young one?” the sneering goblin questions Harry, once realizing he is there.
“I would like to get an inheritance test done, if that is possible, bank teller,” Harry tells the teller confidently, to not waste the goblin’s time.
“And what is your name, young one, and do you have your key?” the goblin asks smoothly, shock evident in his voice. Curious about how this child knows the proper way to speak to them.
“My name is Harry Potter and I was never given my key. Was I supposed to have my key?”
“Well Mr. Potter, every magical child is given a key to their trust vault until they are old enough to inherit their family vault. You were never given a key to any of your vaults?”
“No, I wasn’t. I was raised by my muggle family after the death of my parents.”
“And do you know who your magical guardian is?
“What’s a magical guardian?”
“That is what I was afraid your answer would be. Please follow me.”
Confused, Harry follows the angry goblin down a narrow corridor, stopping in front of a door with a plaque that reads Sharpclaw, account manager. The goblin next to Harry opens the door and starts speaking a different language to the other goblin who was in the room, who he assumed was Sharpclaw. While the two smaller beings were talking, Harry looked around the office. It was a small area, with just enough space for a four-drawer filing cabinet, a medium-sized desk, and three chairs.
“Mister Potter please take a seat,” Sharpclaw tells Harry, gesturing at one of the chairs in front of the desk while taking his seat behind it. “Nagnok told me that you require an inheritance test and that you do not possess your trust vault key. Is that correct?”
“Yes, that would be correct. I also fear that someone might be using my vault without my permission since I have been living in the muggle world after my parent's death.”
“The muggle world? That doesn’t sound right. You should have been with your godparents.”
"My godparents? I don’t have godparents. I was told the only family I have is my aunt and uncle,” Harry lies smoothly. It would be weird if this unaware eleven-year-old knew too much. Sharpclaw shakes his head. “Are you telling me I have been lied to my whole life?”
“Yes, sadly, I do believe you have been lied to. Now, to get to that inheritance test you requested,” Sharpclaw pulls out an ornate dagger and a piece of parchment. He hands the dagger to Harry for him to use. “All you have to do is cut your hand with this, then drip 7 drops of blood on this parchment. After that, we can discuss anything we find.”
Harry takes the dagger and slices a small line on the palm of his hand. He then moves his hand to hover over the paper and watches as the drops of blood fall. Once the correct number of droplets is met, Sharpclaw turns Harry’s hand to heal it while they wait for the process to finish.
“Well, it should be done. Let’s take a look, shall we,” Sharpclaw says. He starts reading the sheet. Harry could see that the more the goblin read, the angrier he was getting. It was starting to get scary. “You said that you haven’t given anyone permission to use your vaults, correct?”
“No sir. I wasn’t even sure I had more than just the one. Has there been money coming out of them?”
“Yes, money has been coming out since November 2nd of 1981. That hasn’t been you since you would have been only a year old.”
“Does it say who has been taking the money?” Instead of answering, the goblin hands the test over to the boy.
Full Name: Harrison James Potter
Date Of Birth: July 31, 1980
Age: 11, was 47
Father(s)- James Fleamont Potter (deceased), Sirius Orion Black III (Blood-Adopted)
Mother(s)- Lily Jade Potter nee Evans
Godfather(s)- Sirius Orion Black III (incarcerated illegally), Remus John Lupin
Godmother(s)- Alice Longbottom (deemed unfit)
Lordship(s):
Potter (Paternal)
Peverell (Paternal)
Gryffindor (Paternal)
Slytherin (Conquest Rights)
Gaunt (Conquest Rights)
Heirship(s)
Black (Blood-Adopted Paternal)
Title(s):
Master Of Death (Gained through the Peverell Bloodline/ Ownership of the Deathly Hallows)
Block(s):
75% Of Magical Core (Placed on November 1, 1981 by APWBD)
90% of Parseltongue (Placed on November 1, 1981 by APWBD)
100% of Parselmagic (Placed on November 1, 1981 by APWBD)
75% of Eidetic Memory (Placed on November 1, 1981 by APWBD)
Compulsion(s):
Loyalty to Albus Dumbledore, Molly Weasley, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley (Placed on November 1, 1981 by APWBD)
Hate all Slytherins and Severus Snape (Placed on November 1, 1981 by APWBD)
Recklessly run into danger (Placed on November 1, 1981 by APWBD)
Potion(s):
Love Potion keyed to Ginny Weasley (Placed on November 1, 1981 by APWBD)
Leech(s):
2% to Albus Dumbledore (Place on November 1, 1981 by APWBD)
1.5624% from Horcrux in Scar on the forehead (Placed on October 31, 1981, by TMR)
Bank Transfer(s)
200 galleons monthly to Albus Dumbledore since November 2, 1981
40 galleons monthly to Molly Weasley since November 2, 1981
Harry was staring at the parchment. It was Dumbledore. It was his fault. The reason he was dying wasn’t because of a forgotten block to protect a child. It was there on purpose. Processing this information caused Harry to think back to everything that had happened to him as a child up until fighting Voldemort in the courtyard of Hogwarts. It was planned from the start. But what about Hermione? Harry could’ve sworn that she was in on it. Unless Dumbledore didn’t add her to the list until after they had already started school. And Molly was in on it? Of course she was, she never listened to him when he asked for help to get away from the Dursleys.
“What would you like to do Mr. Potter?”
“Just stop the payments and remove all their access. The rest is up to you since they were technically stealing from the bank. Also, what can we do about the blocks, compulsions, potions, and leeches? Can those be removed? Or am I stuck with them?”
“I will block all access to the vaults. The spells and potions can easily be removed, my concern is with the fact that one of the leeches is a Horcrux and the fact that it is only a little over 1% of a soul. That means that there is more than just the one in your head.”
“Well, I can kinda feel one here in the building right now.”
“What do you mean about that Mr. Potter?”
“I mean that my scar can feel when another one from the same soul is nearby,” Harry explains. He isn’t lying that he could feel the other Horcruxes that Tom made, but he doesn’t feel the cup right now. He just knew it was hidden here using the Lestrange vault. “Is it possible to remove it to search the bank to find it?”
“Are you saying that someone is using their vault to hold something that dark?” Harry could only nod. “Well yes, it is possible to move it into a different object to track the other ones.”
“You know how to destroy them?”
“Yes, the goblins and the wizards that are employed here all know how to deal with this?”
“So if I somehow found the other ones and brought them to you, you could get rid of them?”
“Yes. Do you know where more are?”
“Kind of. I have dreams about them.”
“Well, before we get into that, we need to remove everything that plagues your body. Then we will discuss the Horcruxes and their locations. And at the end, we will get your lord and heir rings and get you to your vaults for some shopping money. Is that alright with you?”
“That will be perfect.”
And with that, Harry and Sharpclaw begin to walk out of the office and down the hall. They stop before a set of large doors. The plaque reads, Ritual Room, Enter at your own risk. Sharpclaw pushes the doors open to see two other goblins chatting together. Sharpclaw walks over to them and whispers with them. One of them leaves the group and opens a cabinet to grab a pair of robes. The goblin then hands them to Harry.
“Go change and remove your glass so we can begin.” The goblin orders Harry.
Harry goes to the corner he sees has a charging barrier and removes Dudley’s old clothes and into the ritualist robes. With a deep breath, they begin.
Harry wakes in a white room that smells of chemicals. He must be in the hospital wing of the bank. Blinking, he reaches for the small table next to him for his glasses. Now being able to see, he sees the two goblins from the ritual room and Sharpclaw talking to a healer goblin based on their clothes.
“Ahh, Mr. Potter, you're awake, how do you feel?” the healer asks softly.
“A little tired and sore. How long was I out?”
“That is to be expected. The problems you had didn’t want to let go. And you were only out for about an hour and a half. I will give you a pain potion, then you should be okay to go back to Sharpclaw’s office to finish up any business you had left.”
“Thank you.”
Harry drinks the potion handed to him and starts to move off the bed. While he was talking to the healer, the two ritual goblins had left and Sharpclaw had moved to stand by the door.
“Are you ready to go Mister Potter?”
“Yes, I am Account Manager Sharpclaw.”
They begin the trek back to the office. During the walk, they chat about their families and homes. Harry had asked what language Sharpclaw and Nagnok were using. He was told it was Gobbledegook, the native goblin language. By the time the conversation had ended, they made it back to the office.
“Okay, Mr. Potter. You had mentioned that you have had dreams about the Horcruxes, was that correct?”
“Yes, I do. I have seen a cup with a badger on it in a room with the name Lestrange near it. A ring that is under the floorboards in a shack that has the name Gaunt on a plague. A book that has the words T.M.Riddle engraved on it is placed on a shelf in a library by a man with long blonde hair. A diadem in a never-ending room within a castle. A locket with a snake on it in a townhouse with a house elf trying to destroy it but failing. Is that helpful at all?”
“Yes, Mr. Potter. That is more than helpful. Due to the magical locations, they can be tracked easily. In the townhouse, is there anything more? Like a family motto or a voice talking?”
“Umm. YES! The house elf is muttering ‘Kreature must destroy the awful thing like Master Regulus ordered. Kreature must.’ repeatedly.”
“The only Regulus I think of in recent history is Regulus Black, so once you get your Black family ring we can try calling on Kreature.”
“Okay, that might work. Is there anything else?”
“No, that shall be all on that front. Shall we get you your rings?” Harry nods. Sharpclaw waves his hand in the air and a box appears on the desk. Pushing the box to Harry, the boy opens it to see 6 different rings. “Go ahead and put them on. They may seem too big for your hand but they will resize themself once they deem you appropriate.”
Nodding, Harry grabs the first ring. The Potter Family Ring. The moment it was placed on his finger, magic washed over him. It felt warm, like a hug from a mother. Harry guesses that he was accepted because he feels the ring resize to fit his finger. After this he starts to put on each finger, waiting and then feeling them resize. Now he has two left, Slytherin and Gaunt. Sharpclaw notices his hesitation and speaks up.
“What seems to be the problem, Mr. Potter?”
“I am just a little scared to see if I would be accepted by the family.”
“Ah. Is it because of Voldemort?” Harry just nods. “Well, Mr. Potter those rings have not been worn since the mid-40s. Tom Mavarlo Riddle was never made the lord of Slytherin or Gaunt. The family did not accept him.”
“So he didn’t have the same ideals of the family?”
“That would be correct.”
With a newfound confidence, he puts on the Slytherin ring. Suddenly, he feels something invisible wrap around him, like a snake constricting around its prey. The snake keeps tightening until it stops. With that, the ring now fits Harry. He had passed. Smiling, he slides on the last ring and it immediately fits. He guesses that since Slytherin accepted him, Gaunt trusted it
“Congratulations Lord Potter. Now, before we head to your vaults, try calling Kreature so we can see if he has the locket.”
“Kreature!” With a loud pop, an old and dirty house elf appears.
“Young master called on Kreature?”
“Yes. I was wondering if you have a locket that has a snake on it.” That had made Kreature start to shake and cry. “Kreature. I understand that Regulus gave it to you, so you could destroy it. Is that correct?” The house elf nods. “Well, I know how to destroy it. Okay. So can you bring it here, please?”
Kreature keeps nodding while crying. He pops out then a second later pops back, in his hand is the locket that holds Tom’s soul.
“Thank you Kreature. Regulus would be very proud.” Harry whispers to the sad elf.
“Thank you, master. Thank you,” The elf mutters to the boy.
“You can go home now, I don’t need anything else.” And after that, Kreature returns to Grimmauld Place.
“Shall we go to your vaults?”
“We shall.”