HEIR BONES
CHAPTER 36: HEIR BONES
It had been nearly a month since I successfully assembled the twelve individuals now working under me. Their contributions had driven remarkable progress across all our active projects. The FIRM center was finally operational, as was the Herald—our officially named publication, now being distributed from the center. Both had quickly become essential hubs of activity and influence.
The farm project was progressing more gradually. Training new employees to handle the plants required an incredible amount of precision. Each hire had to undergo rigorous training to ensure they grasped the unique methods we were employing. Every single one of them had also signed airtight confidentiality agreements. These weren't just plants—they represented a revolution in magical agriculture, and the last thing I needed was someone leaking that information prematurely.
As for the potions shop, I had hoped it would be up and running by now. Unfortunately, it was taking longer than expected. Mathews' semi-automation system for the brewing process was still being adjusted to fit the unique properties of my potions. That, combined with the construction of a separate building for safety and efficiency, meant the timeline was stretched. I could only hope the final results would be worth the delay.
On the bright side, Oliver’s operation, now officially named Fortress Protections, was running smoothly. With about twenty recruits, his team was now well-trained and operating discreetly, hidden entirely from prying eyes. Their secrecy was their strength, and so far, they had exceeded expectations.
Then there were the safe houses. Three were now fully functional, each equipped with state-of-the-art wards and protections. They were practically fortresses, designed to withstand magical and physical assaults alike. The house-elves we had procured for managing "Michael Folster’s" property—my covert identity—had finally arrived as well. Bound to me through ancient magical contracts, they were fully aware of my true identity and utterly loyal. That level of devotion wasn’t something I took lightly.
Still, not everything was running as smoothly as I’d hoped. Communication had proven to be a thorn in my side. I couldn’t risk receiving mail directly at my house; Tilly would notice immediately, and once she did, Aunt Amelia wouldn’t be far behind. It was only a matter of time before she started asking questions—questions that might lead her to uncovering more than I was ready to reveal.
I had to find a workaround.
My first attempt involved two-way mirrors. I spent weeks studying their enchantments, trying to figure out a way to expand their functionality. Theoretically, I was certain it could be done. The problem was that I couldn’t figure out how to connect multiple mirrors into a reliable network. It was frustrating—so much potential, but no practical solution yet.
Next, I turned my attention to the Floo Network. The idea of sticking your head into a fireplace and chatting with someone seemed utterly bizarre, but it had been the ideal communication system in its time. Back then, nearly every wizarding household had a fireplace, making it the most logical solution. Despite its oddity, I couldn’t deny its efficiency.
“I don’t get how anyone ever thought shoving their head into a fire was a good idea,” I muttered, poring over a stack of ancient texts on the Floo Network’s development.
“You’re not wrong,” Mathews commented dryly from across the room. He was tinkering with one of his brewing prototypes, the faint hum of machinery filling the air. “But don’t knock it too much. The Floo Network’s still faster than most modern alternatives.”
“True,” I admitted, flipping a page. “But it’s also archaic. There’s got to be a better way—something more portable, less conspicuous.”
“Well, if anyone can figure it out, it’s you,” Mathews said with a shrug, his focus shifting back to his work.
His confidence in me was reassuring, but the pressure was mounting. Every day that passed without a solution felt like a step backward.
The inspiration finally hit me late one night, as I was sketching out potential runic designs. The Floo Network’s core principle was simple: connection through a shared magical infrastructure. What if I could replicate that on a smaller scale? Not fireplaces, but something portable—like enchanted coins or compact devices that could act as conduits for communication.
I jotted down the idea, excitement bubbling in my chest.
“Finally,” I whispered to myself. “This just might work.”
Of course, there was still the matter of actually creating the enchantments and testing the system. But for the first time in weeks, I felt like I was making real progress.
As the pieces of my operation slowly fell into place, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. It wasn’t perfect—not yet—but it was mine. Every challenge I overcame, every puzzle I solved, pushed me one step closer to something extraordinary.
This entire endeavor had become my personal summer project. I buried myself in research, studying various communication methods from around the world, both magical and non-magical. I unearthed spells and techniques long abandoned by time, hoping to find something that could be repurposed. I even attempted to develop an entirely new system—one that could seamlessly connect multiple individuals at once.
But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make it work.
Every failure gave me a new insight, a small step forward in understanding, but the core issue remained: how could I send messages discreetly without using standard means of communication? Owls could be intercepted, enchanted parchment could be tracked, and even two-way mirrors were still too limited in scope.
Frustration gnawed at me. The solution was out there—I was sure of it—but it remained just beyond my grasp.
Needing a break from my endless cycle of failed theories and magical equations, I shifted my focus to another area of study: magical travel. Perhaps, by understanding the ways wizards transported themselves instantaneously across distances, I might find some inspiration.
And so, with a fresh mindset, I sat in the grand library, my eyes scanning the ancient tomes detailing everything from Portkeys to experimental spatial magic. The familiar scent of parchment and ink filled the air, and for the first time in days, I felt my mind start to relax.
I was so engrossed in my reading that I barely noticed the light tapping of feet approaching.
"Young Master Ares," Tilly’s high-pitched voice finally broke my concentration. "The mistress wishes to see you in her office."
I blinked, adjusting to reality again, and glanced up from my book. "Aunt Amelia?" I asked, my brow furrowing. "Do you know why?"
Tilly shook her head, her large eyes blinking up at me. "No, young master. The mistress did not say."
That was odd.
Aunt Amelia rarely summoned me or Susan to her office. If something needed to be discussed, it was almost always brought up at the dinner table. This wasn’t a casual chat—whatever it was, it was important.
A flicker of curiosity mixed with mild apprehension settled in my chest. Since speculating wouldn’t get me anywhere, I simply closed my book, stood up, and made my way toward her office.
Moments later, I found myself in front of the door. I knocked firmly.
"Come in," came Aunt Amelia’s voice from within.
I hesitated for a brief second. Something in her tone—it wasn’t her usual composed, authoritative voice. She sounded... tired. That small detail unsettled me more than the unexpected summons.
Pushing the door open, I stepped inside.
Aunt Amelia sat at her desk, stacks of parchment neatly arranged in front of her. She looked up as I entered, giving me a small, tired smile before gesturing for me to take a seat.
"Hello, Ares," she began, her tone more serious now. "I apologize for calling you here like this—I know I don’t usually do this, but I’ve realized that we’ve been putting off an important matter for far too long."
I frowned slightly, tilting my head to the side. "We have?"
"Yes," she nodded, folding her hands together on the desk. "It’s time for you to officially take your position as Heir of the family."
I froze.
My mind took a second to process her words. Heir of the family. I had known, of course, that this was inevitable. I had been born into this role, my entire life quietly shaped by the expectations that came with it. And yet, to hear the words spoken aloud, to have the moment finally arrive—it hit differently.
Aunt Amelia continued, her gaze steady. "Since I am currently the head of the house, I have been managing all the family’s affairs alongside my responsibilities in the Ministry. And, as much as I would like to keep handling everything myself, it is... catching up to me."
She exhaled, the weight of her responsibilities visible on her face. For the first time, I saw not just my formidable aunt, the fierce and unyielding Amelia Bones, but a woman who had carried an entire legacy on her shoulders for years.
"It is time," she said firmly, "that you begin your training. I will slowly start preparing you for your role as the future head of the family, and gradually, I will be handing over more and more of the responsibilities that come with it."
Silence stretched between us for a moment.
Finally, I spoke, my voice measured. "...I understand."
And I did.
This wasn’t just about learning how to manage accounts or oversee assets. This was about leadership. Influence. Power. The future of our name.
I had spent the past month building something of my own, constructing an organization from the ground up. But this—this was different. This was my birthright.
And now, I would claim it.
"I understand," I said, my voice steady. "I'll do my best to uphold the house and surpass your expectations, Aunty. You won't have to worry about the family—I’ll make it stronger than it ever was."
Determination burned in my chest. Aunt Amelia had carried so much on her shoulders—raising me and Susan, running an entire department in the Ministry, and managing the responsibilities of Head of House after my parents were gone. It was time I stepped up, time I took some of that weight off her.
Aunt Amelia studied me for a moment before giving a small nod, her usually stern features softening. "I know you will, Ares. You are fiercely intelligent, hardworking, and relentless when you set your mind to something. I have no doubt that you will make me—and your parents—proud in whatever you do."
That rare, gentle smile of hers appeared—the kind that made my chest tighten, not with sadness, but with warmth. Every time I saw it, I found myself wanting to ensure it appeared more often.
"And so," she continued, returning to business, "tomorrow, we will go to Gringotts to make everything official."
"Yes, Aunt Amelia. I'll be ready." I gave a small salute, smirking playfully.
She rolled her eyes but smirked slightly in return before dismissing me.
As I left her office, I mulled over everything. This wasn’t unexpected—I had been prepared to become heir since I was seven. By then, I could have started assisting Aunty in small ways, but I suspected she had wanted me to have more time to study, to explore my own interests before the weight of responsibility settled on my shoulders.
But things had changed. The Minister was applying constant pressure on her, her department was always under scrutiny, and combined with taking care of me and Susan, it was burning her out. The best solution—the only solution—was for me to step in and start sharing the burden.
And I was ready.
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The next morning, I dressed sharply, ensuring I looked the part, and headed downstairs for breakfast. As usual, we had a pleasant family meal, Susan chattering about her latest interests while Aunty listened with fond amusement.
Once we were finished, we dropped Susan off at the Abbott house before making our way to Gringotts.
Walking through the grand halls of the bank, I noticed the goblins giving me polite nods and murmured greetings as we passed. It was subtle—almost unnoticeable—but definitely there.
Aunt Amelia noticed too.
She leaned slightly toward me, lowering her voice. "Dear, why are they being so polite to you?"
I glanced at her, momentarily surprised. "Tilly didn't tell you?"
Judging by the slight narrowing of her eyes, she hadn’t.
I hid my smirk. It made sense—Aunty never questioned me much when I went out. I never caused trouble, always returned on time, never came home injured, and had no reports of bad behavior. She trusted me.
Which meant she had no idea about the... connections I had been making.
And that made things even more interesting.
"Tell me what?" Aunt Amelia asked, her tone laced with curiosity and just a hint of suspicion.
I glanced at her before deciding to just lay it out. "Well, a few weeks ago, I was invited to their city to spar with some of their warriors, and I accepted. There was a little tournament for hand-to-hand combat—I took first place and met their royal family during the celebration. It was really fun. They gave me this ring for my victory and as a sign of friendship."
I held up my hand, letting the ring catch the light. It had replaced my old silver-and-ruby one. This new piece looked identical in material, but it was permanently bound to me—it would never leave my side. More than that, it was personally crafted by the goblin king himself, engraved with a phoenix, a wampus cat, and the royal family's emblem, marking my status as a friend of the goblin nation.
The tournament had been exhilarating. Goblins were incredibly skilled warriors, but they specialized in weapons combat—whereas I thrived in pure hand-to-hand fighting. Combined with the fact that my body was far stronger than a typical human’s, I’d managed to win against more experienced opponents. The experience had been invaluable, teaching me where I still needed to improve while also earning me something more important than just a title.
Aunt Amelia, however, did not look pleased.
"You what?!" she exclaimed, her voice sharper than I’d expected. A few nearby goblins turned to look, but she quickly exhaled, pressing her fingers to her forehead as if warding off a headache.
I kept my expression neutral, though inwardly, I was a little amused.
She sighed. "Next time, you are to get my permission for something like this, Ares. I trust you can take care of yourself better than most adults, but I am still your guardian. You cannot keep me in the dark about things like this. Am I understood?"
I knew better than to argue. "I’m sorry, Aunt Amelia. I didn’t think it would be a big deal. I understand." I lowered my head slightly in acknowledgment.
She studied me for a moment before nodding. "Alright then. As long as you understand."
With that settled, we continued forward, the tension easing between us. Soon, we reached the head teller’s station, where Ragnok stood in his usual place, observing us with sharp, calculating eyes.
"Greetings, Warrior Bones-Crusher. May your enemies learn the meaning of your name, and may their wealth fall into your hands," he greeted, his tone carrying the weight of goblin respect.
I winced internally at the title. Bones-Crusher. Yeah... that wasn’t exactly inaccurate.
During the tournament, one of the goblin warriors had noticed I was holding back—focusing on precision rather than raw power. He’d taken offense, called it an insult, and demanded that I fight at full strength. When I finally gave him what he wanted, he’d tried to block my punch head-on... and ended up with both arms broken, flying clear out of the ring.
After that, the rest had apparently taken it as a challenge. They swarmed me, determined to prove that goblins had the strongest bodies. I... may have broken a few more bones that day. (Honestly, that part wasn’t my fault either. Goblins are a lot smaller than humans, which means they’re lighter, and without their armor, they just can’t take as much force.)
Hearing all those snaps had been rough. Reminded me a little too much of when I got hit by that truck.
"Hello, Ragnok. May your foes tremble at your presence, and may their coins find their way to your vaults," I replied smoothly, still treating this like a game—coming up with more elaborate greetings each time.
"Bones-Crusher?" Amelia’s voice cut in, her eyebrow raised high enough to disappear into her bangs. "It seems you have some explaining to do when we get home, young man."
I gulped. Oh, I am so going to get an earful.
Ragnok barked out a sharp laugh. "Hah! The mighty Bones-Crusher fears his aunt! The king will love to hear this one."
"Oh, come on, Ragnok, don’t do this to me!" I groaned. "You’ll ruin my reputation!"
The goblin grinned wider, clearly enjoying this far too much. "Oh, this will be grand."
"Nooooo!" I wailed dramatically, crouching down and tracing circles on the floor in mock despair.
Amelia sighed. "Merlin help me," she muttered under her breath.
"Alright, that's enough with your little skit, Ares," she ordered, giving me a pointed look. "We’re here for official business."
I straightened up, still grumbling a little.
"We would like to formally establish him as Heir to House Bones," she informed Ragnok, her voice shifting into something more formal.
Ragnok gave a sharp nod and motioned for us to follow him to his office. He summoned a goblin, who arrived shortly after carrying a small, velvet-lined box. Inside were two slots—one empty, the other holding a silver ring engraved with the Bones family emblem: a shield with a wand crossing over it. Below the emblem, the motto "Break, but never bow" was inscribed in elegant script.
I glanced at Aunt Amelia’s hand and saw that her ring was similar—except hers was gold.
"Wear the ring," Ragnok instructed. "It will test you to determine if you are worthy."
I picked up the ring and slid it onto my right ring finger. A sharp prick followed, a brief sting as it sampled my blood. A faint red glow pulsed from the metal, as if responding to me, then the ring shrank slightly, adjusting itself to fit perfectly.
Ragnok inclined his head. "Congratulations, Heir Bones. The ring will serve as a safeguard against Legilimency intrusion, poisons, and other dangers. From this moment forward, you are recognized as the official heir to the Bones family. You will fully inherit the title and responsibilities when the current Head either chooses to pass it on or becomes unable to fulfill their duties."
I turned my hand, studying the ring as the weight of the moment settled over me. Heir Bones. It sounded... important.
"Thank you for informing me," I said, nodding.
Officially, I was now the heir to a noble house. Well, I thought, flexing my fingers slightly. That’s one way to level up in life.