The Truth
Harry didn't want to wake up the next morning. For as uncomfortable and scratchy the bed beneath him was, he couldn't help but keep his eyes closed, even as the birds began to chirp and the sun reared its head.
All good things must come to an end, however, and so the boy sits up, adjusting his glasses and blinking the sleep away, before standing to get himself ready. When he looks into the mirror, dusty and cracked as it is, he sees how all his hair stands on edge, a bird's nest on his head, and how the bags under his eyes have darkened and widened. Most importantly though, how much weight he's lost. As fit as he was before, weeks with little to no food takes a toll and his once lean body has turned lanky. He sighs.
Doing his best to calm the bird's nest he calls his hair and make himself look presentable, he leaves his trunk stored at the edge of the bed, grabs his key, and heads off into Diagon Alley. His first stop was grabbing some money from his vault to buy clothes and something to eat.
That meant heading to Gringotts.
Honestly, that bank is truly the scariest place for Harry. Of course it's safe, but the Goblins always seem to look at him weird. He's been told they have certain culture things that most Wizards don't abide by, but he never was told HOW to abide by them. Maybe that's why? Why does it always feel like he's out of every loop?
Enough questioning, he thought as he reached the steps of the large bank. All he needs to do is grab enough money to last him, in and out, short trip. Then he can get everything he needs and go contact Dumbledore for a place to stay!
With a few steps, he enters the bank. Inside is beautiful, despite the fear of the Goblins hating him, he has to admit how dazzling it is. He does get some stares as he walks up to the front counter, but he does his best to brush it off.
“Erm, excuse?”
He whispers to the bank teller, who looks at him with an eyebrow raised. A lot of people seem to be looking at him that way recently.
“Yes?”
The Goblin responds, neatly putting away his papers.
“I need to see about getting to my vault? I, uhm, don't have a key though. Is there any way-”
“Name?”
He's interrupted by the teller, who has pulled out a quill and a form.
“Harry James Potter.”
The creature scribbled the name down in a language that Harry couldn't quite understand.
“Date of birth?”
The Goblin, who Harry could see by the nameplate on his desk was named Lockfire, drawled, looking rather bored.
“July 31st, 1980.”
Lockfire writes that down in the same language as before, then putting the incomplete form away and getting down from his chair. Why was so much of it left blank? He couldn't help but wonder.
“Right this way. You'll be seeing Goldenhook for your vault.”
He steps from behind his desk and beckons the younger boy to follow as he leads him down a long, marble hallway. Mahogany doors line the walls, each with a golden plaque attached to the front, various names engraved in the plate. Abnormal names to Harry, things like Rubyspear or Spidergloved, but they must be normal to Goblins. He knows the main bank-teller (or bank owner?) is named Griphook. Is the last name hook important status-wise? He should ask.
Before he can, however, he's arrived at the office of Goldenhook. The other Goblin scurries off, leaving the young boy to hesitantly open the door.
“Hello? I'm here to see Goldenhook?”
“Ah! Mr. Potter! Lovely to meet you.”
A man, similar to the one he met before, comes up to him, hand extended.
“May your enemies bow at your feet!”
He exclaims, leaving Harry confused.
“...Huh?”
“It's simply Goblin customs. We wish our clients well through certain sayings and have responses to be given back. Only purebloods seem to use them now though.”
The creature answered simply, sitting at a table that stands in the middle of the room. It's a long oak table with chairs at both sides. Harry decides it'd be best for him to sit down as well.
“Now, Mr. Potter, all that's needed for a new key is to check your identity, which can be done with this paper here-”
He began as he placed down a piece of parchment, seemingly an empty one.
“-and to revoke the keys from your prior guardian, depending on your age and magical maturity. I'm sure you don't mind?”
“Not at all. Do I need to sign or…?”
“No no. Just two drops of blood on the parchment will do.”
Goldenhook waves the question off like it was the silliest thing he's ever heard, before handing over a sparkling dagger. The handle is silver, and the blade is thin and freshly sharpened. Harry has always disliked seeing blood, in any way, whether it be his or someone else's, but if it's needed…He pricks his pointer finger on the tip of the razor-sharp blade, gasping slightly as the blood drips onto the paper.
“Very good. If I may?”
The Goblin asks rhetorically, taking the paper to look it over. He seems puzzled for a moment, before looking back up at the boy.
“My my. You may want to check this over yourself.”
Passing the paper back to Harry, he takes it and begins to read.
~
Harrison James Snape-Potter
DOB: July 31st, 1980
Birther: James Potter
Giver: Severus Snape
Blood Adoption: Lily Evans (Unlawful)
Magical Guardian: Albus Dumbledore (Unlawful)
Godparents: Sirius Black (Deceased), Narcissa Malfoy nee Black (Avaliable)
Magical Core: Gray (Blocked 60%)
Abilities: Parseltongue (Blocked 80%), Wild Magick (Blocked 50%), Master Of Death (Blocked 100%). Abilities blocked via Albus Dumbledore.
Manipulations: Keyed trust to Molly Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Albus Dumbledore. Keyed hatred to Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy, Tom Marvolo Riddle, Slytherins.
~
Harry had to stop reading for a moment. What IS this!? This can't be right. Right? That isn't his name, and those aren't his parents! Dumbledore wouldn't “block” his abilities or practically brainwash him! And the list of things isn't even done yet? Harry's face had twisted into one of utter horror, causing the other person in the room to become concerned.
“Are you alright, Mr. Potter?”
Goldenhook inquires, professionally but with concern lacing his voice.
“No. No! This can't be right! I don't have “blocked” magic! And that isn't my name! This has to be faulty-”
“I'm sorry, Mr. Potter but that can't be so. Our spells are one of a kind and do not fail in such drastic ways. This is the truth. Do you wish to continue reading?”
Harry thinks for a moment. Does he really want to know the rest? Not really. Honestly, he doesn't want to believe what he HAS read, but he feels like he has to. So he takes a deep breath and, with shaky hands, grabs the paper once more.
~
Soulmate: Tom Marvolo Riddle (Alias: Voldemort)
~
Harry isn't sure what happened after he read that, but the next thing he knew he was hovered over a trash can heaving up what little food he had in his stomach with a medi-goblin rubbing his back and providing him with an anti-nauseous potion.
He couldn't be soulmates with that…monster! Absolutely not! He can't think about that, he can't let it even enter his head. He can't. He can't. It can't be the truth.
“Mr. Potter. If you'd like, we could rid you of any blockages that have been placed upon you, allow you your key, and let you be for a while? You may return to finish reading over this paperwork in a day or two. With these new revelations…I find there will be much more for you to do than just a simple blood test. This information is very sensitive and rather important.”
“I don't even understand what half of this is!”
The dark haired boy shouts, his throat filled with bile. He feels disgusting, shivers all over his back.
“It is proof that you have been lied to.”
The goblin said, sighing.
“There is much to do, and it is in my belief that the choice you make in this very moment may change the Wizarding World as we know it. You have been burdened with trouble, burdened far before your time, but you have never had a more serious impact than now.”
He continues as Harry drinks the potion given, almost vomiting again from the taste.
“What do you wish to do, Mr. Potter?”
The question weighs heavily on his shoulders. He stands up, dusting off his knees and wiping his face, before turning to Goldenhook.
“I want to know what all of this means.”
“Very well. Have a seat.”