Blackmail Aunt Petunia
Harry woke in the cramped darkness of his childhood cupboard under the stairs. Putting his glasses on he reached for where he thought he had stashed on old exercise book his cousin had thrown away for having a ripped cover. And a pen. He had memories to capture and plans to make before the post arrived. He also had a number of uncomfortable questions to begin asking at inopportune times that he wanted to note down. Including questions about who was making money off his name. He suspected he was going to need a lawyer. But the biggest question was deciding what exactly he should change. Followed by what’s curious little brother. How. And then there was the question of Dumbledore. Were his the actions of a benign fool or malignant despot. Blind assurance of an old man that his family loved him and therefore wouldn’t possibly keep him in a cupboard suggested several things. Was it deliberate or one of life’s coincidences. And he was going to need to learn occlumency. He heard soft laughter as the wind whispered that Lady Magic had left him a gift or two and he need not worry about that. Ignoring how improbable it was for there to be wind inside his cupboard bedroom he dressed for the day while contemplating what to do about his aunt and uncle. They were obsessed with money and he had all that gold. But in truth they would bleed him dry before they would treat him like a human being. Leaving him wondering if he should let the next few days play out the same way and warn his aunt that Hagrid would be sent to fetch the famed boy who lived. Or take steps to change his introduction to the magical world. Blackmail with his knowledge of the future had a certain poetic energy.
He cooked another breakfast he wouldn’t share as he debated just running away with his letter and letting the wards around the house fail. Instead he fetched the post, making sure to hide his letter he handed the remaining mail to his uncle, including the postcard from the man’s horrid sister.
‘Marge is ill.’
Dodging his cousin Dudley’s smelting stick he began washing dishes as an idea began to unroll. Once his morning chores were complete he was released for the day. Taking his letter and what money he had managed to find, usually from Dudley’s pockets when doing the laundry, he escaped to the library. With his cousin’s aversion to books it was one of his places of sanctuary and he had a letter to read. And photocopy. Along with the most curiously addressed envelope to Mr H. Potter. The cupboard under the stairs.
---
‘Blackmail Aunt Petunia.’ Harry said softly, placing the photocopy of the envelope from Hogwarts on the table. Pushing it towards her. ‘It is such an ugly word.’
She began to laugh before looking into ice cold green eyes that she could of sworn did not belong to a child on the edge of eleven.
‘But it is still a word. Aunt Petunia.’
She opted to bluff. ‘What nonsense is this.’ Pushing the paper across the table.
‘This?’ He smiled. ‘Is a copy of my letter, specifically addressed to a cupboard.’
She reached for the paper and tore it in half. Another copy was placed before her.
‘You knew this day was coming and now it is time to pay the piper. Are you enjoying your tea?’
She dropped the cup, it spilled drunkenly in the matching saucer. ‘What have you done?’
‘Aren’t I supposed to be asking you that?’ His smile was cold to start with and any remaining warmth was lost. ‘Biscuit?’ Extending the plate towards her.
‘You can’t do anything to me.’ She hissed.
‘Then why don’t you finish your tea.’ He stared at her. ‘Another will arrive tomorrow. Will it also be addressed to the cupboard under the stairs? Aunt Petunia.’
He set a fresh cup on the table, tea poured from the matching tea pot. ‘They will keep sending letters until they hear from me and it wont matter if the door is boarded up or you run away. Until eventually, one of them. Someone from the world of my parents will knock on your door. On your doorstep. In person. Strange clothes and maybe even a pointy hat. And I think I am quite sure you don’t want that.’
‘What do you want?’
‘My parents to still be alive but right now I’ll settle for an actual bedroom. And your support of my going away to school. Failing that, I need at least to get to London to get my school supplies.’
‘We wont pay.”
He cut her off. ‘My parents left me a modest trust fund to pay for that. They carefully calculated the cost of my school supplies so don’t get any silly ideas.’
‘How do you know.’ She hissed.
Harry shrugged. ‘Oh don’t you think too hard on that Aunt Petunia. Lets just say it came to me in a magical vision.’ His smile faded. ‘No doubt they told you the genocidal madman who murdered my parents would come for you and just as happily slaughter you horribly.’
‘It was mentioned.’
‘Perhaps we should just put it all down to magic and stop asking questions you know you don’t actually want the answer to.’
‘I will speak with Vernon.’
‘Thank you. Wouldn’t want the neighbours asking questions next time they pop in for a cup of tea. Would we.’
He gave his aunt credit, it only took two more days before she insisted Harry would be moving into her precious Dudleykin’s second bedroom and would be going to Hogwarts. He had dutifully collected the mail and handed it all to his uncle. Including the increasing number of Hogwarts letters that arrived daily as he smiled at his aunt.
Vernon’s eye had twitched the entire journey to London but he dropped Harry at the Leaky Cauldron and told him to make his own way home or, preferably, not at all. If he could find some other of his freaks to take him. Harry smiled to himself as the car pulled away. ‘Don’t worry Uncle Vernon, I’m working on that too.’ He pulled a hat on to cover his scar and slung his ratty old backpack over his shoulder before pushing the door open and entering the Leaky. He felt magic reach out and welcome him home as he moved though the dark room and approached the bar. Happy Birthday Harry Potter.
‘Excuse me, can you open the way to Diagon Alley please.’
‘Follow me. You got adults who should be with you?’
‘Yes, but they wanted me to experience this for myself.’ Following the barkeeper out to the familiar brick wall. Eyes followed the pattern of bricks tapped to reveal the alley beyond, thanking him, Harry stepped through and headed for Gringotts. The white building dominating the alley. Given that Hagrid, and therefore Dumbledore, had his key he wasn’t sure how this would work. But he squared his shoulders with all the confidence of his age of seventeen in his eleven year old body and headed for an available goblin teller.
‘Next.’
Harry smiled. ‘Yes, hello. I need to speak with the Potter account manager please.’
‘Key.’
‘That is what I need to speak about, I don’t have it. Apparently Dumbledore does, not that I know why a school teacher I’ve never met would have my key.’ He didn’t moderate his tone, letting the wizards and witches around him hear every word. Privacy in a bank was an illusion.
The goblin leaned over the edge of his counter and peered down at the boy. ‘You don’t have your key.’
‘No Sir, I know I probably aught to and I certainly wish I did.’ Cheerful, polite and not quiet.
‘And do you have proof of who you say you are?’
‘I am sure we can establish that since I haven’t said who I am yet. An inheritance test perhaps.’
‘Very well, follow me. But I warn you, if you are not linked to the Potter’s by, blood.’
Harry shivered lightly as the goblin grinned around the word.
‘Things will go very badly for you.’
Long thin fingers laid a knife on the desk along with a piece of parchment edged in gold. The only thing he saw on the page was a small gold square drawn at the top of the page.
‘Seven drops of blood in the square.’
Taking the blade Harry nicked his finger and counted to seven. Blood dropped into the box drawn in gold and disappeared, letters danced across the page spelling out his name.
‘Ah, Mr Potter.’ The goblin behind the desk smiled, as much as any goblin ever did. ‘Thank you Irontooth, I have matters from here. I am the Potter account manager, Hookfang.’ He peered at Harry. ‘You say your key is not with you.’
‘Dumbledore has it Sir, he may have given it to Hagrid by now but I would, of course, like it back.’ He paused. ‘It was also suggested I ask for healing. I am sure I have enough in my vault to accommodate that. And I would appreciate a full accounting of my vault.’
‘Am I to presume you have not in fact, been receiving your correspondence from us then, Mr Potter. To ask for something we sent you at the beginning of the year.’
Harry frowned. ‘It would seem not.’
‘Very well, I shall send for a healer and we will have your accounts ready for review.’
A door opened and Harry paused at the Goblin standing before him. She. For she had long curly hair the colour of steel and wore a nurses uniform that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the first world war.
‘I direct you to follow healer Goldenaxe.’
Harry nodded. ‘Thank you Hookfang, ma’am.’
He gave up trying to map the path they followed as he was lead though corridors winding deeper into Gringotts. The walls gave way to rough stone and the floor sloped down suggesting they were underground. Until it evened out and he was stopped before a desk with another blade and parchment. This one edged in silver as was the box drawn at the top.
‘Seven drops of blood Mr Potter.’ Her voice a soft hiss in the cool chamber. ‘Come, come, I wish to see what I am to deal with.’
Shrugging Harry used the blade to re-open his earlier cut and complied with her instructions. Watching as the box around his blood glowed and the parchment grew longer with words filling the page. Dark eyes narrowed as they looked from the still growing parchment and back towards him.
‘Should I be worried ma’am?’ His question echoed his nervousness.
‘Yes Mr Potter. It appears you should.’
‘Is it the horcrux then?’
She hissed. ‘You know of the abomination attached to you?’
He sighed and nodded.
‘I should tell you Mr Potter. This is very dark magic and the Goblin Nation does not deal lightly with such things.’
‘Well it’s not there by my choice.’
‘No, I presume it is not.’
‘Can it be removed, without, you know, killing me?’
She nodded. ‘Of course it can be removed. It is hardly a large one so it will be easily enough done. Well.’ She moved around the desk. ‘I will summon one of our teams of curse breakers but I warn you, it will be expensive.’
‘Would that be helped if I told you there is another one in the vaults of the bank.’
She stopped and looked at him with dark piercing eyes. ‘Are you in the habit of collecting such things Mr Potter?’
He shrugged. ‘It belongs to the same wizard.’
‘I will send for the Branch Manager, it seems perhaps you have some explaining to do.’ She pointed him towards a stone bench to wait.
It didn’t take long before the wall opened revealing a door and a group of four goblins with two wizards who were followed by a much finer dressed goblin. One of the wizards he recognised as Bill Weasley who grew pale as the goblins spoke.
Theirs was a harsh guttural language that sounded like what Harry imagined gurgling rocks might sound. Voices rose and fell in pitch and softly echoed around them. The goblin in his tailored suit approached.
‘Which vault Mr Potter, will I find this additional abomination in?’
‘Bellatrix Lestrange. It’s Helga Hufflepuff’s cup so if you could destroy the horcrux and not the cup I am sure there would be much gratitude.’ He watched another conversation and the team of goblins and wizards hurried away.
‘You have experiences with horcruxes then.’
‘More than I wish I did.’
‘I am Goldsword, the Branch Manager. Who do these belong to?’
‘A wizard born Tom Marvolo Riddle who called himself Lord Voldemort. And he made four more, possibly five.’
His statement was greeted with silence until the team of curse breakers returned with a bag they showed Goldsword who nodded.
‘Do you know the location of the remaining items Mr Potter.’
‘Yes, but is it possible to tell how many he made.’ He faulted. ‘I’m not sure if he has made the last one yet.’
‘We will examine the pieces we have to determine that. Do you know his whereabouts?’
‘I know where he will be this year.’
‘You are a most puzzling wizard Mr Potter. And seem much older than your apparent age.’ He nodded. ‘For a fee we can locate these items and destroy them for they are an affront to magic.’
‘Is it.’ Harry was struck by an idea. ‘I mean, I don’t know if you could but can they be, like, put back together?’
‘No. There is no known way for us to restore a fractured soul. We can but destroy the pieces and ask Lady Magic for her judgement.’
Harry scoffed. ‘Oh she’s already pissed at Tom for the magical blood he’s spilled.’
‘You do surprise, Mr Potter.’ Goldsword nodded. He and his sister could both see the mark of Lady Magic upon the wizard standing before them. He would be one to watch he mused. ‘When you have been healed we will discuss this treasure hunt further.’
Goldenaxe waived Goldsword off and turned back to Harry. ‘Goblin healing is unpleasant for witches and wizards. The abomination will fight being removed but that’s what they are for.’ She waved in the direction of the curse breakers. ‘Behind the screen is a robe, wear only the robe and leave your glasses on the desk.
Wearing a soft white robe he stood in a silver circle inlaid in the stone floor. Runes danced around the edges and symbols he almost recognised were carved in the stone around him.
‘Do not leave the circle Mr Potter. Not even a finger, do I make myself clear.’
‘Yes ma’am.’
‘Good.’ She handed him a scrap of leather. ‘Bite on this, you will need it and I suggest you lay down least you fall.’
Harry felt his vision blur as feet moved to place themselves around the circle and he bit down on the leather. Grateful when he finally passed out.
Pain danced up and down nerves as the shard of Riddle’s soul fought being dislodged. Had Harry been able to watch he would have seen his back arch and body bent with hands and feet shaking. He came close to the edge of the circle but remained within and even unconscious he screamed. The soul shard was moved into a now murky grey crystal and curse breakers replaced with healers. Their chant unbroken as years of neglect and abuse were stripped from the very bones of Harry James Potter. Bones that were re-broken and laid correctly while scars faded and nerve damage along with ten years of malnutrition was rewritten. The child left shaking was now taller, a normal weight for his new height and his hair healthier and longer. He was however, left still needing glasses to correct the remaining vision problems as not even Goblin Healers could account for Potter eyesight. But the world he did open his eyes to was one less blurry than before. Helped to his feet he was given a cup, warm to the touch, dark green contents smoking in a way that left no illusions as to how this was going to taste.
‘You were malnourished Mr Potter. Drink that quickly least you taste it.’
He downed the contents and was grateful for the goblet of water that followed.
‘Apparently if it tastes good it is not medicinal.’ She barked in laughter. ‘You may feel like you have had the muggle flu for the next few days and you will have to get used to your body being healed.’ She looked him up and down. ‘And new clothes now you are the height you were supposed to be.’
‘I’m taller?’
‘You are as tall as you should be, were you fed properly.’ Disdain dripped from her voice.
‘Thank you. Can goblin healers help with spell damage, like the crutiatus curse?’
She shrugged. ‘Not something any witch or wizard has asked before. You have someone specific in mind?’
‘My godmother, Alice Longbottom and her husband Frank. If she could be helped I wouldn’t need to go back to my aunt and uncle. Mind you.’ He added. ‘My godfather, Sirius Black is also innocent.’
‘If I was of a suspicious frame of mind I might conclude someone went to a lot of bother to remove your godparents. Mr Potter.’ Goldsword’s voice filled the room.
And if Harry was honest, it also filled a few gaps in his own thinking.
‘And you say Lord Black is innocent.’
‘I don’t even know if he had a trial, Sir.’
‘He didn’t. As the Lord of a Noble House goblins pay attention to such things.’
‘Would my parents wills being read help?’ He watched as the goblin nodded. Trying not to hope for a legal option to get away from the Dursley’s other than his current plan of just not going back. ‘Then I request their wills be read. If I may.’
‘They were sealed by the Wizengamot so you need to claim your Lordship as the last remaining member of the Noble House of Potter.’ He smiled. ‘I believe you are going to be great fun to watch.’
Harry was taken back to his account manager’s office and directed towards a tray containing a bowl of soup and plate of sandwiches.
‘Eat Mr Potter, you don’t mind I trust, if I join Hookfang in reviewing your accounts.’
‘Please do, I have no idea what I’m doing so I appreciate your insight.’
‘If I was to hazard a guess, from your earlier comment regarding Lady Magic, Mr Potter.’ Goldsword looked to Hookfang. ‘Perhaps you can begin with the rings while Mr Potter explains himself.’
With a bow the goblin left the room.
‘I hardly understand myself, but in seven years time I died facing Voldemort. In my death I was given three options. Two initially. Stay dead with my parents or go back to being seventeen, once more the boy who lived. To a ruined Hogwarts to bury the dead.’ He pushed the pain down and focused on the soup before looking back to Goldsword. ‘In the event of the final battle I learned of my own horcrux. And a cursed prophesy that caused an already fractured madman to fixate on me. Him and Dumbledore both believed in my death. One to save his own life, and the other, to save everyone else’s. Just, not mine. And in the space of my death I was given a third option.’
‘To come back within your own time at a younger age and try again.’
Harry nodded. ‘It would be fair to say Lady Magic is angry at both of them for the lost magicals this caused the first time round.’
‘We all lose when magical bloodlines are lost Mr Potter. Not least the goblins as vaults fall out of circulation.’
‘Death said muggle born are the descendants of magical bloodlines though their squibs.’
‘Perhaps we might benefit from offering inheritance tests to the muggle born. The Lestrange vault should have enough confiscated gold to begin paying for such an endeavour.’ Goldsword nodded to himself. ‘It would be better for all of us to grow new life in some of the older vaults.’ Better that than the Ministry trying to claim them he added privately.
Hookfang entered the room and placed a small chest on the desk. ‘As the last of your line Mr Potter, you do not have to wait until the age of seventeen to claim your lordship. I would however recommend starting with the heir rings first.’
The chest opened to reveal it was larger than it appeared and a tray of rings presented to Harry.
‘There are a number of heir rings to choose from. Your ancestors actually had taste.’
‘I take it not all rings are so aesthetically pleasing.’
‘Indeed not Mr Potter. There are some customs I suspect started as a jest but everyone else took them seriously. These rings all carry the same enchantments and are made of silver and platinum blended for strength and magical purity.’
Putting down the ring he first picked up he selected one with a narrower band. ‘What enchantments?’
‘To detect love potions and strengthen against compulsions and legilimency as well as preventing it from being summoned. It will also stop someone removing the finger to remove the ring, your ancestors were pragmatic.’
Harry blanched at the mental image that conjured.
Selecting a simple band engraved with celtic knots he slid the ring on his right index finger and felt warmth as it considered him worthy and resized to fit. The remaining rings were returned to the chest and a tray of jewelled rings was placed before him.
‘These are the Lordship rings, if none are to your taste you can commission one.’
‘Which one was my father’s?’
‘He never claimed his lordship.’
He shelved that thought to consider later. ‘And can I wear both the heir and lordship rings at the same time?’
‘You can. This is not the first time the Potter Line has held only one heir who claimed his lordship before the age of seventeen. You may be the first to do so at eleven but the Lordship rings also hold a notice me not charm that you can activate if you prefer to keep the news quiet for now.’
Harry selected a band made of several strands of different coloured metal woven together with a single deep red stone. He placed the ring on the middle finger of his right hand.
‘This ring will detect if any potions or poisons are in your food and drink. There is no differentiation between the two however.’
Harry watched as the remaining rings were returned to the chest and another ring was placed on the table.
‘This is the heir ring for the Noble House of Black. You are the heir of record.’
He hesitated. ‘If I don’t want it?’
‘It will go to Heir Malfoy, his mother is a Black and he is the only other male with a direct claim.’
‘What is mine? Sirius is only my godfather.’
‘Your grandmother was of the Noble House of Black and that is sufficient for magic to accept you. If it was not the ring would not be available regardless of your godfather’s wishes.’
The ring looked like black gold and seemed to absorb light, Harry shrugged as he slid it on his right ring finger where it flashed cold before resizing to fit and vanishing from sight.
‘Who currently holds the votes for the Black seat in the Wizengamot?’
‘Lord Malfoy tried to claim the Black vote but magic declined him. Black and Potter have no current proxy. Dumbledore held the proxy for the Potter vote while your parents where in hiding but this has not been reconfirmed following their deaths and is also currently an empty seat.’
‘That will be something else I have to deal with. Do I have a lawyer? Sirius Black is innocent and I would like to know who is making money using my name. There are a number of books that are supposed to be about me. And I would like to request goblin healing for Alice and Frank Longbottom if I may.’
Goldsword grinned. ‘Are you sure it was Lady Magic and not Lord Chaos that sent you back.’
‘I didn’t know that was an option.’ Harry sighed. ‘I suppose I should have expected it but no. I also need to do my Hogwarts shopping and get a wand along with new clothes. I don’t suppose there is the goblin equivalent of a bank card so I don’t have to carry a bag of galleons.’
‘Your heir rings will link to your heir vaults and your lordship ring to the main Potter vault. We can also provide a coin pouch linked to your vault, for a small fee.’
‘I have more vaults?’
‘You do Lord Potter.’
Harry pulled his supply list out. ‘Any of these books or items likely to be in any of the vaults I have access to? And a trunk.’
Hookfang looked the list over and nodded. ‘Much if not all will be found between the vaults, including potions ingredients in the Potter Potion vault.’
‘The Potter Potion vault had excellent stasis charms in place.’ Goldsword added. He saw the confusion on Harry’s face. ‘Several of your ancestors were Potion Masters and you now hold the patents to a number of highly profitable potions.’
‘And robes?’ He hesitated to ask as a memory of Ron’s robes for the Yule Ball sprung to mind but need outweighed hesitation. ‘I will need something at least while I go shopping for my wand, and my clothes hardly fitted me before my healing.’
‘Perhaps we should take you to your vaults so you can decide for yourself.’
‘Sounds good, and my parents wills? I need to speak with a lawyer.’
‘The earliest we can have your parents wills read is three pm tomorrow to give the parties involved time to be present. You can speak with the lawyer before or following that.’
‘Alright, can we go to my vaults now.’ He rose to follow Hookfang. ‘Is it possible to get a muggle wallet like the one linked to my vaults for the wizarding world?’
‘We can arrange something, for a fee.’
Harry nodded. ‘Good, I’ve got things I want to buy.’ He also needed to work out where he was staying tonight but he decided that could wait until after he’d been though the vaults. He didn’t want to go back to Privet Drive and he didn’t fancy staying at the Leaky either. Time would soon show if he had enough money to make that not an issue.
---
Harry came to the realisation that previous generations of Potters had a slight hoarding problem. But, because they had the money and access to Gringotts, apparently things ended up in vaults. He would wonder why no one had told him about this later, his first thought right now was choosing a trunk. At least someone had been a bit organised and had things grouped mostly together. Looking though the generations of trunks he found one that belonged to Dorea Black, who clearly had good taste and was a practical woman. The trunk was built with several compartments including a full sized wardrobe and even had built in shrinking and feather light charms. He also found a Library Trunk which he was assured could be shrunk and kept inside his main trunk with no risk of the magic failing. Apparently one of the advantages of being rich.
The Library Trunk was capable of holding thousands of books and it came with a cataloguing notebook that automatically organised the contents so he could summon the one he wanted, or everything on a particular topic if needed. This was something he suspected Hermione would love to get her book loving hands on but he would wait before freely offering her access until after they met again. Wondering about his previous friends left him in two minds about his sorting experience the first time around. If he should have let the hat place him in Slytherin or if he had made the right choice to ask for something else. If he did go into the house of snakes, he knew he would likely not have the same friendship with the Weasley family. Then again, did he really want to be in the same house as Parkinson, who was prepared to sacrifice him at the final battle. Hufflepuff was sounding like a much better option even if he did manage to get the horcruxes destroyed leaving him free to deal with Riddle and Quirrell. One thing was for sure, he would not be taking divination this time.
He was almost tempted, if he could manage it, to deal with the horcruxes and Riddle before the start of the school year. And move to America, or maybe somewhere in the Colonies. New Zealand looked nice. He could try one of the other magic schools and not live a life filled with the echoes of the last seven years. But if he did stay, he could reclaim his own identity and there were a number of other things to change. It wasn’t just lives like Cedric and Fred or Sirius and Remus to be saved, there were friends who could have better lives too. Neville had the wrong wand and with the number of times his uncle tried to throw him off piers and out windows, he needed saving too. Even Malfoy didn’t deserve to be branded like a slave, it never seemed to bring him any happiness.
And there was a thin slice of his soul that wanted to see what havoc would be unleashed once the muggle born started getting their inheritance tests. Never mind the look on Snape’s face, Or Dumbledore’s, should he end up in Slytherin. So with renewed determination he collected all the books that he could find not already in his library trunk along with his parents school books. Comparing his parents books to his book list left him unsure if he should be happy that he could use their books. Or angry that the first year book list hadn’t changed in twenty years. The soft brush of wind on his cheek made him wonder if it was his anger he was feeling or Lady Magic’s. Perhaps it was only the first year that hadn’t changed. They needed the basics first after all. His mood was not improved on finding the wardrobe portion of the main Potter vault.
Wizard and witch fashion was stuck in the past as he found a ready made wardrobe just waiting for him. If he’d always had a burning ambition to look like a Victorian Lord. He pulled together clothes that would fit him now and over the next few years that he would need for school and navigating the wizarding world. There was room in his wardrobe compartment and it would be one less thing he needed to do in Diagon Alley. The longer he was out in wizarding public the more he risked being recognised. Then he found a trunk with a tag that read “James, Clothes – Hogwarts” that made him grin. Pulling a studded leather jacket from the trunk he wasn’t surprised to find it had Siruis’s name scribbled on the inside. He rummaged around until he found clothes he could wear now, swapping his cousin’s cast off’s for a faded pair of jeans with ripped knees and what was now a vintage Queen tee shirt. He found clean socks that didn’t have holes in them and a pair of dragon hide boots that fit like he’d always worn them. The jacket he pulled on completed the look. The trunk didn’t have a built in shrinking charm so he just tossed the contents into his wardrobe trunk and decided he’d go though it all later. The richness in finding his parents possessions was worth the time it would take to sort it all eventually into something more manageable. Another prized find was a leather satchel with separate pockets for quills, parchments and even one for ink bottles. The satchel was also charmed with undetectable extension and feather light charms and a cushioning charm. Regardless of what house he was sorted in, this would be a game changer as he wouldn’t need to make several trips a day to the dorm just to swap out his books between classes.
Then Hookfang took him to the Potter Potion vault.
‘Your grandfather was the last Potions Master in the Potter family so when he passed, your grandmother had everything moved here. This vault holds the books your ancestors have collected and written. The ingredients are kept with stasis charms.’
‘Is there a reference for what’s in here? If I send an owl can things be sent to me at Hogwarts?’
Hookfang nodded. ‘We can provide you with an updating catalogue.’
Harry looked around and smiled when he saw a number of trunks to one side. Opening them up he picked one that contained a potion brewing chamber and different compartments for tools and ingredients. The trunk of course came with shrinking and feather light charms and had a space for books. Checking his supply list Harry collected what he knew he would need and a few extras that may come in handy. Looking at some of the ingredients he wondered what this collection was worth.
‘Just out of curiosity.’ He asked his new favourite goblin. ‘What would, say, a basilisk be worth?’
‘Size and age?’
‘At least 60 foot, maybe longer and as old as Hogwarts.’
‘Alive?’
Harry nodded and watched as Hookfang looked around for something to sit on, choosing a trunk.
‘Such a thing could be worth perhaps a million galleons Lord Potter. If not more. The hide alone, and if there are any previous shed skins of a basilisk of that sort of size, it would be extremely valuable. Then there is the meat, eyes, fangs and venom glands.’ He shook his head a moment before looking to the child that his clan leader seemed so amused by.
‘Am I to presume that the creature rumoured to dwell in Salazar Slytheren’s chamber is a basilisk and you have access to it.’
‘If I can still speak passel with the horcrux removed, yes.’
‘It is an inherited trait Lord Potter, I see no reason you would not still speak it.’
‘What?’
‘It is on your inheritance test results and includes the family your mother is descended from. Slytherin was not the only house that could speak with serpents. They were just the most well known and it is something many families keep quiet. It is a highly prized skill for healers and curse breakers as well as magizoologists. Even some dragon handlers are able to speak with their charges because of it.’
‘Putting that aside, if I can get access to the basilisk, what are the laws regarding ownership?’
‘If you kill it in defence of the school you can claim it but Hogwarts may expect a percentage of the profit or harvested parts. But if you don’t tell them.’ The goblin grinned. ‘Of course, there would be much campaigning between the warriors to be selected to battle such a beast if alive.’
Harry ignored thoughts of what goblins campaigning would look like while gathering up his collection of trunks. He did not imagine it involved public debates and a private vote. Trunks shrunk and stored in his satchel he followed Hookfang back to the goblin’s office. His thoughts dwelling on the matter of the basilisk and how he could get it removed before the diary ended up in Ginny’s cauldron. He was also wondering about for dealing with Riddle, did the fool have to regain his body, or was there a way to deal with him now. He wondered if the goblins would know.
Goldsword was waiting in Hookfang’s office when they returned. ‘I trust you were able to find what you need Lord Potter.’ He looked to the slightly stunned Hookfang and frowned. ‘Do I ask what you have done to your account manager.’
Harry felt the edge of steel to the goblin’s tone. ‘Oh, I told him about the basilisk in Hogwarts. He’s either trying to work out ownership or profit I guess.’
‘If I did not know you held the mind, experiences and magic of a seventeen year old in your eleven year old body Lord Potter, you might concern me more.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment. But I have a question about how we can regain the horcruxes when one is currently being held by Lucius Malfoy. I am unsure if he knows what it is. And once the horcruxes are collected and destroyed what will happen to the remaining portion of Tom Riddle.’
‘Perhaps you better give me an idea of how this all unfolded the first time.’
Harry nodded and pulled his exercise book out of his backpack. ‘My second year at Hogwarts, Lucius Malfoy dropped the diary into a students cauldron. It was Riddle’s first horcrux, made at the age of sixteen. I don’t know if he used the death of Myrtle Warren nearly 50 years ago or that was an accident. He also used his mother’s locket and the Gaunt family ring for his horcruxes.’
‘Sixteen is young to contemplate splitting your soul for immortality.’ Goldsword commented.
‘Riddle was raised in an orphanage and was weird even as a kid. Dumbledore thinks his mother used a love potion on his father but he was raised in a religious orphanage as a magical child, throw the second world war into the mix.’ Harry shrugged. ‘I had it bad enough, my aunt and uncle knew about magic and no one was dropping bombs on my home outside of term time.’
‘Yes I suspect you could cause a great deal of chaos if you chose to go dark on us Lord Potter.’
‘Oh I don’t have any sympathy for the guy, Riddle still chose to kill people. But I wonder if the first time he exhibited accidental magic, if he had been moved from a muggle orphanage into a magical one. Would he have still turned into such a caricature of a man that he comes back with no nose to go with his delusions of blood status.’
‘No nose?’
‘I really need a pensive so I can show you the memories, in my fourth year, he had my name entered as a contestant in the Triwizard Tournament. The cup was a portkey to the graveyard in Little Hangleton where his father is buried. Peter Pettigrew used.’ Harry flicked though his notes. ‘The bones of the father, flesh of a servant and the blood of his enemy, in a giant cauldron of a potion with some weird baby creature thing and out pops Riddle. With no nose. I wonder if that was because Petigrew was rubbish at potions or if it was always going to end that way.’
Goldsward shrugged. ‘Tell me more about his family.’
‘Mother, Merope Gaunt, practically a squib, not enough magic for Hogwarts. The Gaunt family were down to only having the family ring and a locket while living in a shack despite their ancestor being Salizar Slytherin. Quite the scandal when the local well to do chap’s son took up with the girl. The love potion wore off, he cast her out and went back to his parents and she gave birth in a London orphanage. Lived long enough to name him Tom Marvalo Riddle after his father and hers, and died. The Gaunt’s clearly needed the genetic diversity but yeah. The kid made a few bad decisions and tried to take over the magical world.’
‘Somehow he finds out about horcruxes and decided it was a good idea to make several.’
Harry nodded. ‘He told his head of house he’d found a book in the library at Hogwarts that mentioned different types of magic. Given he’d already been collecting his followers by then it could also have been something he found in one of their homes. He used Helga Hufflepuff’s cup, Slytherin’s locket which is in the Black property on Grimmauld Place, as the Black heir I can collect that. Malfoy has the diary. Rowena Ravenclaw’s Diadam is in Hogwarts so I can get that when I get there. And the Gaunt family ring with it’s curse is in a booby trapped shack in Little Hangleton. Me I’m pretty sure he hadn’t planned on and I don’t think he made his pet snake into one until after he came back fourth year.’ He looked back over his notes. ‘The ring will need curse breakers, it’s well warded and has a compulsion on it that will kill anyone who puts it on but I don’t know what to do to get the diary.’
‘And the shade of Riddle?’
‘Quirrell failed to break into the vault after Hagrid collected the Phillosopher’s Stone my first time around so Riddle decided he needed to hang out on the back of Quirrell’s head. Teaching Defence at Hogwarts and not very well with his constant stuttering. I do not want to wait until my fourth year for him to come back before I can get rid of him. Which reminds me.’ He flicked though to his notes on his second year. ‘We need to do something about Gilderoy Lockhart, the man is a complete fraud. And apparently there is a curse on the defence against the dark arts position as there is a new teacher every year. I’m not sure if getting rid of Riddle will take care of that or if it needs to be investigated.’
‘If the shade of Riddle can get past the wards at Hogwarts then I suspect the wards are also in a poor state of repair. Making a curse possible.’
Harry checked the time and sighed softly. ‘Is it possible to borrow a curse breaker to come to Grimmauld place with me and to return with the locket. I know there was at least a boggart last time and I haven’t my wand yet. And doxies and all manor of dark and deadly things that need to be taken care of.’
‘For a fee we can send you back with Mr Weasley.’
‘Sure, I like Bill. And you can take the money from my vault.’
‘Will one curse breaker be enough?’
‘Is he able to check my wards and call for back up if he needs to?’
‘He is capable.’
‘Then he should be fine, I don’t remember what we found last time but that will just leave the crazy old house elf.’
‘You could summon the house elf here and see if he will follow your instructions as the heir.’
‘I can do that?’
Goldsword shrugged. ‘You amuse me Lord Potter.’
Harry moved to an open part of the office. ‘Kreacher!’
There was the familiar pop of a house elf appearing and the miserable looking elf glared.
‘How does a Potter summon Kreacher?’
Harry focused on the Black heir ring and showed it to the old elf. ‘That is how.’
‘And what does the mighty Potter want from Kreacher.’
‘Is Grimmauld Place occupied and I want to destroy the locket Master Regulus gave you. But you need to bring the locket to me so it can be destroyed.’ He watched as the elf’s entire being changed.
Kreacher nodded, vanished and popped back into the room holding the locket. ‘The mistress is dead Heir Black, only Kreacher.’
Goldsword had a bag for the locket and nodded as it was dropped in by the elf.
‘I will return the locket to you tomorrow Lord Potter, once the shard is removed.’ He looked up at a knock at the door and a goblin entered with Bill Weasley. ‘Ah, Axegrinder, this is another of the horcruxes, thank you. And Mr Weasley, you will return with Lord Potter and the elf to his residence. Check for wee beasties and any other dark artefacts. If you need back up send for it and please check the wards are sufficient for Lord Potter’s needs.’
Bill nodded and looked at the curious child standing by the elf. ‘Do you know what we can expect Lord Potter?’
‘There are doxies and at least a boggart. I’m not sure what else is there but it is a Black property. And there is a painting with some sort of permanent sticking charm on it that I would appreciate if you could remove.’ Harry looked to Kreacher. ‘Can you take us both to Grimmauld Place.’
‘Kreacher can Heir Black.’ Eyes welling up at the completion of the final task given him by his beloved Regulus.
Harry turned to Goldsword. ‘I will be back tomorrow.’ His backpack and satchel containing his trunks slung over his shoulder as he moved towards the elf.
‘We will see you then Lord Potter.’
‘Thank you for your kindness, even though it is matched by my gold.’
Kreacher reached for the wizards wrists and popped them into the entrance of Grimmauld Place.
Harry turned to the elf. ‘I want you to make me up a room and I want the kitchen cleaned before you prepare the evening meal.’ He spun back to Bill when he heard a crash. ‘Oh, I’d forgotten about the troll leg.’
Bill rose to his feet and dusted himself off. ‘Can we see the ward stone first Lord Potter.’
‘Kreacher.’
‘Heir Black.’
‘Please take us to the ward stone then you can resume your cleaning.’ He ignored the muttering of the elf and followed as they headed for the stairs to the level below the kitchen.
Harry watched as Bill cast silent spells. Runes filled the air around the ward room and the curse breaker nodded.
‘The wards are in order, time for me to find your boggart.’
‘Thank you Mr Weasley.’
‘As the client you can call me Bill. You starting Hogwarts this year Lord Potter?’
‘Yes and you can call me Harry.’
‘Not while you’re paying for my time. You’ll be in my brother’s year then, Ron. He’ll be hard to miss with his ginger hair.’
‘Yes, I can imagine. If you could check the property for any dark artefacts, including that troll leg and I’ll show you the portrait.’ He just hoped Kreacher would forgive him for removing it. If it could be removed, he couldn’t remember if Bill had tried last time.
The screeching began once they moved back into the hallway. There was no curtain.
‘Who has let the filth in my home! Kreacher! Where is that ungrateful elf. I should have cut his head off while I was still alive. Kreacher!’
Bill stopped in front of the portrait. Wand out he began casting diagnostic spells.
‘How dare you cast at me you filthy blood traitor. I recognise my traitor cousin in your face. Is she dead yet? A Black marrying a Weasley, disgusting.’
Bill looked to Harry. ‘She’s stuck it on well and good but I have a few tricks I can try.’
‘I am sorry, she is unpleasant, I thought there was a curtain.’
‘Oh that’s fine Lord Potter. She’s right though, my gran was born a Black but she was disowned when she married my grandfather.’
‘Given how much the Black family has been pruned over the last few generations you wouldn’t think they could afford to keep doing that. My grandmother was also a Black so we are probably cousins.’
‘There isn’t many who aren’t when you start looking at the pure blood family trees. Step back please, I get the feeling my boss likes you and he would not think kindly if you got injured.’ He kept his speculation to himself as he wondered what this kid could have done to earn such respect from the goblin and if he should be worried, but he had a job to do.
It was the third spell that shook the wall and saw the painting fall to the floor. Bill grinned as he looked around to see Harry clapping. The magic that let her speak broken now she was no longer on the wall.
‘I think I saw a nice dark corner downstairs we can put her.’
‘Lead the way Lord Potter.’
‘I was worried we would have to paint over her or cut the wall out to get rid of her.’ Harry opened the door to the stairs and pointed to a dark corner. ‘I think that spot should do nicely.’
Bill put the painting in the corner and turned it towards the wall. ‘Time to find that boggart.’
‘I better find Kreacher and my room.’
Bill shook his head, it almost sounded like the boy had never been here but he still knew where everything was. Odd kid but he was the client and he had a job to do.
---
He had a pile of items he was going to recommend be destroyed and had just gotten rid of the last of the doxies when the young lord found him in the Library.
‘You’ve found a few things I see.’
‘Yeah, you may need to get someone to come back to check the books, the ones at the other end of the room are warded to stop anyone not of the immediate family from reading them so there may still be a few surprises. I can’t get in there being from a disowned line and not having any of the family magic.’
‘Well I appreciate your work. What will you do with the things you found?’
‘I can take it back to Gringotts to be destroyed.’
‘If you could, thank you.’ He nodded and stopped. ‘When do you leave for Egypt?’
‘End of the week.’
‘You will miss Ron going to Hogwarts wont you.’
‘It’s going to be hard enough for him, everything that could be done me or one of our other brothers has already done it.’ He found the kid easy to talk to and himself revealing more than he should.
‘There is something you could do for him.’
‘Yes?’
‘Buy him a pet. Has he been given Scabbers yet?’
Bill frowned. ‘How do you know about Scabbers?’
‘I know he isn’t really a rat and you should take him to Gringotts.’
‘Of course he’s a rat, just a regular old garden rat.’
‘Living with your family for the last ten years? Let me tell you a story. When they were students at Hogworts, three friends became animagi, one of them became a death eater, his animagus form is a brown rat. And he faked his death to frame one of his friends after being directly responsible for the death of two others. If you were an animagus who could turn into a rat, wouldn’t you pick a nice light family with plenty of children to hide amongst.’
‘You are telling me, that my brother’s rat is a wizard who faked his death and has the dark mark.’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s mad.’
‘Easy enough for a curse breaker such as yourself to figure out if I am mad or not.’ He smiled brightly. ‘Thank you for clearing the place for me.’
‘You aren’t a seer are you.’
‘No, just blessed by Lady Magic.’
‘Right, and if it turns out the rat is actually a person?’
‘Take him to work with you.’
Bill nodded. ‘Not sure why but I’ll think about it. Good luck at Hogworts Lord Potter.’ Not sure if the luck was directed at the boy, or the school.