The Undying

Chapter 1- A Summons from Dumbledore

July 31st 1993

Harry stared at the creased letter on his rickety desk. One could be forgiven for thinking that the letter itself had been written many years ago due to the many creases that he had caused by repeatedly reading it over the past few days. For once, it was not the brutish nature of his Uncle, nor the shrill voice of his aunt that filled him with anxiety as they usually did during the summer. No. This anxiety was solely due to the contents of the letter.

He picked it up once more and read.

Dear Harry,

I hope you are enjoying your summer after the last year at Hogwarts. I must once again commend you on your bravery and loyalty in a situation that never should have arisen. I myself used to spend the summers researching and walking around the countryside with a friend, of course this was before the developments of those delightful Muggle televisions.

Now, as you are undoubtedly aware your 13th Birthday will soon be occurring. The matter of your inheritance has now come into the fold and there is much to discuss about what has been left to you, both material and otherwise. The situation requires more than a short letter to explain and I hope you will forgive me for my vagueness.

On the 31st of July, at 10am I ask you to walk out into Privet Drive and raise your wand straight out. A large bus will appear, and you must simply state your destination and pay the fee, ask to go to the Leaky Cauldron and then proceed up to Gringotts to a teller and state that you are here for the 10:15 meeting with myself and Sharpclaw. I shall then explain more.

Yours truly and apologetically,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

“What the bloody hell is on about now?” Harry muttered to himself, Hedwig gave a hoot and seemed to stare at him in disapproval. He glanced over at the clock, only ten more minutes until he had to leave. “Well, I guess will soon find out” he stated, standing to get ready.

His annoyance with the Headmaster of Hogwarts had been growing and growing since the end of his second year, the man refused to tell Harry the full truth of Voldemort and his connection to him and had insisted that he had to return to the Dursley's for summer.

The first two years of Harry's schooling he had admired Dumbledore and tended to ignore his flaws, but this summer had left him feeling disappointed and angry at the man for forcing him back. Harry had admired the Wizard, loving the caring presence he seemed to exude yet as second year drew to a close he started to question things.

Why did Dumbledore do so little? Not only in relation to the bullying that Harry faced from his supposed peers at school but from Snape and the other teachers. Considering Hogwarts was meant to be the 'premier' magic school in Europe, according to Hermione, who of course memorised it from Hogwarts a History, you'd think that the staff would be more supportive and less cruel.

When Hagrid had knocked down the door to the rickety shack a few years ago Harry had hoped it would be a chance to escape his miserable life and find acceptance. Of course, he had been wrong.

He did trust the man, truly he did, but his trust in the Headmaster had begun to outweigh his respect for him.

Escaping the stifling home of his relatives was an easy task as they had left him alone whilst they went for a shopping trip to get new clothes for Dudley, according to Aunt Petunia it was the fault of the washing machine that shrunk his clothes. She never even thought that it could be because her precious "Dudders" would shovel food into his gullet at a rate that even Ron would find disgusting.

Since he didn't have to be up early to cook their breakfast he slept in a little too long as he had to abandon his half opened presents so he could leave.

Harry stepped to the pavement, quickly checking there were no muggles paying attention near-by and raised his wand out in front of him.

BANG!

A large purple triple-decker bus appeared in front of him sending him to the ground. Harry groaned and fixed his glasses as he stood up and glared at the man who opened the door.

“A'wright, names Stan Shunpike where you of't then?” the pimple faced, lanky conductor asked Harry as he dusted off his jeans.

“Err the leaky cauldron, that's in London” Harry stated.

Stan snorted, “Oh really who wud've thought', ' 'ere that Ern, Leaky Cauldron in London of all places” he continued sarcastically. He looked at Harry who merely stared him down unwilling to rise to Stan's bait.

“Sound then” he mumbled noticing Harry's unamused face “that'll be 11 Sickles unless yer wanna bed an hot chocolate?”

Harry just handed him the 11 Sickles and went to take a seat, at least until Stan yelled “Take 'er away Ern!” and Harry was once more thrown to the floor as the bus sped off as quick as a broomstick.

He managed to stabilise himself and held on to a bar, ‘Dumbledore better make this worthwhile’ he thought to himself.

After a turbulent 5-minute journey of Harry cursing each time he was thrown about, causing the woman near him to tut and shake her head. He finally got off the hellish Knight bus and walked into the Leaky Cauldron.

The pub itself resembled something out of a Dickens novel yet was always bustling with energy being the main gateway into Diagon Alley. Seeing Tom was free at the bar he walked over to ask him to open the barrier.

The barkeep smiled, “Sure thing lad. Just follow me”

Harry took note of the pattern in which Tom tapped his wand on the brick wall, so he did not have to ask next time.

Quickly thanking Tom, Harry walked through the barrier and made his way up the winding street, dodging the Witches and Wizards that were also in the Alley. It came to Harry that this had been the first time he had been there by himself and made sure to take note of any shops that seemed interesting. He particularly fancied a look in 'Occult Opticians' but figured it would be best to come back later.

It was only his third time in the alley, and it brought a smile to his face, to once again be surrounded by magic in all its beauty. He and Hermione had spoken at length numerous times last year about how going home after their first year had been horrible, to not be surrounded by magic every day like they had gotten used to. The one time they had mentioned it to Ron he had shrugged and said they’d spent eleven years without it so how strange could it be. They did not speak to him about it again. Hermione in particular had struggled at the beginning of the year having spent all of her summer wanting to come back, she’d said as such to her parents and regretted it immediately when she saw the hurt in their faces.

He continued to walk towards Gringotts, the towering structure of white and gold trimmed marble was a beacon of the alley that could be seen as soon as you walked through the Leaky Cauldron. He made his way through the double doors and past the Goblin Warriors who guarded it, large battle axes glistening in the sun and ready to attack anyone they needed to.

The bank was busy that day with all occupied desks having at least a customer, he randomly picked one that only had one other customer and waited in line.

The old witch finally hobbled away, and Harry took his place at the desk.

“State your business young Wizard” the teller grumbled.

“I'm here to meet Albus Dumbledore and Sharpclaw” he responded, one thing he had picked up from History of Magic is that Goblins have no particular love for Wizards.

The Goblin looked at Harry more closely, focusing on his scar.

“Name” he drawled.

“Harry Potter” he replied in a slightly lower volume. He did not want a repeat of the actions of the public like they did last year when Lockhart pulled Harry to the front to take photos for the press.

“Very well. Snazzlefoot!” the teller barked, and another Goblin hurried to where Harry was standing.

“Take Mr. Potter to meeting room 5” he continued.

“Follow me Mr. Potter” the seemingly younger Goblin said, judging by the smaller number of wrinkles on his face, and walked off down a corridor.

Thankfully the walk was only short, and they came to a stop in front of the meeting room.

“Well” he mumbled to himself, “let's hope we get some answers”

He knocked on the door.

“Come in” a rough, crackled voice yelled through the door.

Bracing himself, Harry walked in.

The room was well lit with a long table down the centre. Adorning the left-hand wall was a large magical painting, seemingly depicting a scene from one of the Goblin Wars that Professor Binns would drone on about in class. The continuous bloods sprays occurring in the painting would have made Binns' lessons far more engaging. Glancing at the title it said 'Jahaerys the Fierce and the Clan of Frouste 1587' which Harry took to be a significant event, although he had not seen it in his textbooks.

A cough broke his focus.

Glancing at the occupants Harry saw the Headmaster and a Goblin at the table, in front of them a large bowl that looked to be made of black marble, two scrolls and a stack of paper just next to it.

“Sharpclaw, I presume?” figuring it best to address the Goblin first, although he did offer a nod towards Dumbledore.

“Obviously” the Goblin drawled in a manner similarly to that of Snape. “Please take a seat Heir Potter, we have a lot to discuss” Sharpclaw said gesturing to the one next to him and opposite Dumbledore.

Trying to sound confident Harry asked “What is this all about then? Has something happened to my trust vault?” the last one he addressed to the Headmaster.

“If I may?” Dumbledore asked Sharpclaw, who merely waved his hand in response.

Turning his focus onto the Headmaster, Harry waited for him to start what he expected to be another long-winded diatribe.

“Now, my boy” Gods how Harry hated when he addressed him as such. “My apologies for being vague in the letter but alas there was simply too much to talk about, most of which I am not at liberty to talk about”.

He sighed and continued. “When your parents died, their last will and testament became active at Gringotts, which contained instructions to not be read until a private meeting between you and the Potter account manager” he gestured to Sharpclaw. “The will was done before your parents went into hiding, which made matters of your guardianship difficult. Whilst your Grandparents should have then taken you, they were at St Mungo’s Hospital being treated for Dragon Pox, a horrific disease that claimed their lives a week after your parents.” Harry just blinked at the information, he had never really thought of grandparents as a concept. He had no clue about his father’s family and whenever Petunia mentioned her parents around the house it was always phrased as Dudley’s grandparents not his.

“You then likely would have gone to your Godfather, Sirius Black-”

“Wait” Harry said interrupting him. “You mean the Sirius Black? The escaped convict is my Godfather?”. Harry had seen the man on the Muggle News, there was a reminder every few days to keep on the lookout for the deranged looking man who had killed twelve people.

Dumbledore stared at him, twinkly eyes widening in surprise at his interruption. “The very same. As I was saying you should have gone to him, but on that fateful night it was Sirius who betrayed your parent's location to Voldemort.”

“But how were my parents friends with someone like that? Surely they’d know if one of their friends could be capable of such a thing?” He exclaimed.

“He had us all fooled, I’m afraid. He was your father’s best friend since his first year at Hogwarts none of us could have known he was capable of it” Dumbledore trailed off looking like he was lost in a memory.

Harry felt like the rug had been pulled from under his feet, the man he'd seen on the news for weeks was the reason his parents were dead. The reason that he had been punished with his life at the Dursley's. A slight numbness made way for anger that nestled in his heart.

Dumbledore continued “Ordinarily you would then be placed with your Godmother, Alice Longbottom, but as she was in hiding that was not an option and for reasons that I should not be the one to explain to you, her and her husband are in the long-term care facility at St. Mungo's Hospital.”

“Longbottom? You mean Neville’s mum?” Harry thought of the the chubby boy, kind yet cowardly – they were not close to be fair but he was still surprised he hadn’t even heard whispers of it.

“Yes, Neville is currently under the care of his Grandmother due to their status. To that end, when I was alerted to your parent's death I had Hagrid bring you to your Aunt's house as they were the safest option for you, no one would think to look for you in a small muggle neighbourhood in Surrey, after all. Harnessing the magic that surrounded you from your mother's sacrifice, I was able to construct blood wards around their home, until you reach 17 no magical being with the intent to harm you can enter”

Harry raised his hands to his face and pressed on his temples. Dumbledore may have been left with no option but whatever magical protections he has put, he ground out “But what does this have to do with my inheritance?”

At this the Goblin took over. “Well, Heir Potter, as you have now reached the age of 13, per your parents request we are to read their will to you and you alone. Although you may choose to have Chief Warlock Dumbledore in with you.”

“No” Harry said immediately.

“Harry” Dumbledore said, “if I may, having me here may help to explain certain things and to plan our next step” he said gently.

“No.” This was weirdly thrilling, telling the Headmaster of all people ‘no’ but his parents had wanted it to be for Harry alone and he would respect that.

“My B-“ this time the Goblin interrupted.

“Dumbledore he has asked you to leave so now leave! You may return when the will readings are over” he snarled.

With a disappointed headshake Dumbledore stood and left the room.

“Now then Heir Potter, as Dumbledore stated it is time for you to hear your parent's will, please hold your questions till the end.”

Clearing his throat and untying a rolled piece of parchment with a click of his fingers, the Goblin read:

This document is the official last will and testament of Heir James Fleamont Potter and Lily Potter nee Evans.

In the event of our death, we adhere to the rules of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, thus our joint will shall be read to our child 'Hadrian James Potter' when he reaches the age of thirteen and his claim to the Heir ring is legitimate. The new Heir Potter is to have access to all vaults, treasures, and land that belongs to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. However, he may only claim the Lord's ring when he reaches the age of seventeen and is legally declared an adult.

Hadrian is to inherit all but the following items/values:

100 000 Galleons to Remus John Lupin

100 000 Galleons to Sirius Orion Black III

100 000 Galleons to Peter Pettigrew

5000 Galleons to Severus Snape and the letter addressed to him in Lily Potter's Vault

40 000 Galleons to Frank and Alice Longbottom

1000 Galleons to Neville Longbottom

10 000 Galleons to Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

3000 Galleons to Minerva McGonagall and the letter addressed to her in James Potter's Vault

3000 Galleons to Filius Flitwick and the letter addressed to him in Lily Potter's Vault

Until Hadrian reaches his majority the matter of his guardianship is to be as followed:

Charlus and Dorea Potter

Sirius Black

Alice and Frank Longbottom

Albus Dumbledore.

This be our official Will. May Mother Magic bless you all.

Sharpclaw eyed the Wizard in front of him, who had been quiet for several minutes since he had finished the reading of the Will. “Heir Potter are you okay?”.

Harry, or Hadrian as his name apparently was, was far from okay. The information in the will had left him with many questions.

“So, my actual name is Hadrian?”

“Correct”

“And I am the heir to some hereditary title that sounds official?”

“Also correct. When you achieve your Lordship you will take your seat on the Wizengamot with the other Lords and Ladies of Society, or you can choose a proxy to sit and vote if you wish. That is your prerogative” Sharpclaw explained.

This was all very strange to Harry; not only did he have to deal with being the bloody boy-who-lived but now also had the responsibilities of a family history he knew nothing about; at least he had until he was seventeen to take up his place on the Wizengamot.

“As you have reached thirteen years of age it is now time to give you the heir ring” at this, the Goblin walked over to the door and called for Dumbledore to enter. Dumbledore walked in and tried to say something but stopped after a look from Sharpclaw.

“Heir Potter, I have called Chief Warlock Dumbledore to oversee your ascension. He was named in your parent's will and is your current magical guardian; this, combined with his position as Head of the Wizengamot means your transition should be smooth as he can validate your claims to your early ascension, as most Heirs are given their rings at fifteen, but the Potter family have always done it slightly differently”

Sharpclaw handed Harry a piece of parchment and instructed him “Place your ring finger in the middle of the bowl and repeat the words on the parchment”

After looking at Dumbledore, who nodded his head with a kind smile, he did as instructed: “I, Hadrian James Potter, call upon the Magic of my ancestors and Mother Magic herself, to bless me and charge me with my duty. May my call be heard, so mote it be” at the end of this Harry felt a prick on his finger and pulled his hand away to see a small needle with his blood, retracting into the bowl.

“What the actual fu-” he was interrupted by a flashing light from the bowl.

In the very centre now sat two silver rings.

The two rings looked very similar. Picking them up he placed them on his finger. Now that he had a closer view he noticed that one ring had what looked like an engraving of a Dragon circling it whilst the other had either a crow or raven.

Looking up he noticed Sharpclaw and Dumbledore at him in surprise “What?”

“Forgive me Harry but I am rather shocked that you have not only the heir ring for the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, but also for the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black” Dumbledore said, “I can only assume that due to Dorea being your grandmother, who was a Black before marrying your Grandfather, and your status as Sirius' Godson that you have been chosen as the Black heir, meaning you will also inherit the Black Lordship and Wizengamot seat as well when you reach seventeen”

Sharpclaw nodded “That does seem to be the case. However, Heir Potter there is an issue now that you have accepted the heir ring for House Potter”

“You did not mention this earlier Sharpclaw, what is the issue” Dumbledore asked in surprise.

The Goblin glared, “As you are not a member of House Potter and this does not pertain to you in your capacity as Heir Potter's guardian then I had no reason to! Although I do require you to stay for this next part”

Subdued and confused, Dumbledore went silent.

Looking at Harry he continued, “In the Last Will and Testament of your Grandparents, Lord Charlus and Lady Dorea, they state that on their death the Heir of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter will ascend to Lord Potter of Potter. Now your father would have ascended anyway as he was the Heir but it is a clause contained in the wills of many Heads of Houses as it serves as a metaphorical blessing”

“But my parents said I could not become a Lord until I was seventeen?” Harry half stated, half asked in confusion.

“That is correct, but as your parent's agreed to "adhere to the rules of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter" then they defer to the Lord's Will which names you Lord Potter.” There was a flash and soon the Heir ring of House Potter had turned gold with the Dragon engravings turning a deep red.

“Congratulations on your ascension to the Head of your Family, Lord Potter”

Harry looked between the grinning Goblin and a surprised looking Dumbledore.

“Shite.”