healed, and freed
For a while, it was just a blur of movement for Harry. He was still getting used to…everything, especially with all the revelations he had earlier. He still had so many questions. Why is he the Lord of so many houses? Is his name actually Hadrian, not Harry? Why was he was blood-adopted by Sirius? Why did he have so many powers that were blocked? And what is the thing called the ‘Soul Shard’?
But, perhaps most importantly, where does he go from here?
The fairy trilled once again, rousing Harry from his inner monologue as he realized they had walked into a room that looked like a better-equipped Hogwarts Infirmary. Except entirely made out of stone, with only the crystals embedded in the wall providing any light, and the veins of gold and silver flowing in the walls sparkling in the magic light. An elder-looking goblin frowned at Harry, and started speaking in Goblin-Tongue to Griphook. After a minute of back-and forth – which Harry assumed was either them arguing or simply Griphook telling the other about his test results – the elder Goblin turned to him.
“Mr. Potter-Black,” he bowed in goblin-fashion, and Harry blushed as he realized he had forgotten to do so earlier. He followed suit, and after a short grunt, followed the goblin over to a bed, sitting down when the other gestured for him to do so. “My name is Herbclaw, I am the Gringotts London Branch’s Grandmaster Healer. Master Griphook informed me of the basics of your blood-test results, but I would like to do a full med-scan before moving on to the cleansing ritual. If you would give me your hand.”
Herbclaw held out his hand, and Harry placed his in the claw-like fingers, which gripped him lightly before the goblin picked up a small dagger from the side table.
“I’m sure you’re aware that goblins do not need wands, young master wizard,” the goblin said, as he pricked the same finger that Harry had earlier before placing the slightly bleeding finger over a bowl on the table. “One thing that is less well-known is that we often use daggers and swords as our foci. This is a small goblin blood-ritual, similar to the inheritance test, but is much more in-depth in regards to your own body, mind, & core. Thus, it requires slightly more blood.”
Harry nodded, and the goblin squeezed his hand once before wiping the blood on his finger away…to once again reveal a completely healed finger. He looked over at the bowl, which was about half the width of his wand, and was shocked to see that it was nearly a third of the way filled. The elder goblin smiled, “I find that talking and distraction will often ease the worry of my patients, even if they’re aware of it happening.” He then grabbed the bowl, and took it over to what seemed to be the main ‘station’ in the infirmary.
Griphook grabbed Harry’s attention by clearing his throat lightly, “Over time, I have found that these sorts of meetings can be quite overwhelming. And make no mistake young master Potter-Black, your day here has so far been quite…enlightening. Grandmaster Herbclaw will take some time with the blood ritual, so I will do my best to answer any questions you have, or we can talk about something else.”
On the one hand, Harry had a lot of questions, but on the other hand, he wasn’t sure how much more he could take in at once. But…he had to know eventually, right?
“Everyone has started calling me Potter-Black, now. And I know Sirius is my godfather, but the inheritance test said something about a blood adoption. I…I’m afraid I don’t really understand anything about that.”
Griphook nodded, taking a seat on the stool before looking over at Herbclaw – who seemed to be taking herbs and ingredients off the shelf to add to the bowl. “I’m afraid this is one question none of us really have the full answer to, but I can explain what I do know. Blood-Adoptions are…infrequent practices in this day and age, but they were once well-known and frequently performed by Pure-Blood lords and ladies. If they were unmarried, did not produce an heir, or simply came to care for a child as their own, they performed a blood adoption on a child, making them their own through blood and magic.”
Harry’s head was swimming. Did that mean… “Does that mean that Sirius is actually my father?”
Harry’s stomach sank as Griphook nodded, that meant that…Sirius wasn’t just his godfather. He was his father, he loved him enough to literally make him his flesh and blood. Sure, it was through magic, but it was real. But then, why hadn’t he said anything?
Maybe he thought you knew.
Shaking his head of the thought and the implications around it, Harry took a deep breath to ask another question, but was interrupted by Herbclaw walking over. He pushed a stone stand in front of Harry, placing the bowl on top as he withdrew his dagger once again, except this time he pointed at the bowl and said something in goblin-tongue. A spark of magic flew from the dagger into the contents of the bowl, setting it all alight, and the embers of the fire flew into the air before settling down on a parchment Harry hadn’t noticed sitting on the table. Much like with the inheritance test, words began to fill the page, and unfortunately it kept growing just like the inheritance test, until Harry was sure that Griphook’s eyes were going to fall out of his head.
Herbclaw took the parchment once the spell seemed to calm down, and quickly read down it, before barking out something in goblin-tongue to the other healers that had entered the room. They all walked over to various cupboards and work benches, grabbing items left and right, as Herbclaw handed the parchment to Harry.
“This type of test lists all incorrectly healed injuries and sicknesses, their current status, as well as those currently plaguing the subject. As you can see, most of these are irrelevant at this point as they are now healed, but you still have a number of blocks and magical issues that must be taken care of immediately, as well as a few incorrectly healed bones that I wish to fix.”
Harry’s eyes wandered down the list, and though he could recount quite a few of the latest injuries and illnesses, he still wasn’t very surprised by just how many were listed. Especially after he moved in with the Dursley’s. He looked back up at Herbclaw, and in the corner of his eyes saw most of the healers starting to leave the room, though Griphook and the Grandmaster healer remained.
“We need to move to one of our ritual chambers to perform the cleansing ritual. If it were just the magic blocks, we could have removed those with a simple cleansing potion, but with the soul shard in play, we unfortunately do need the full ritual.”
Harry nodded and began to follow them as they lead the way out the door. The other healers had probably gone to whatever ritual room the elder healer had mentioned.
As they continued down into the depths of the bank, Harry asked another question; one that had been on his mind, but mixed in with everything else wasn’t as important until now. “I’m sorry, Grandmaster Herbclaw, but what exactly is a soul shard? And why do I have one?”
For a moment, neither goblin said anything, and Harry was wondering if they just weren’t going to tell him. But then the healer spoke, “A soul shard is the result of extremely dark magic. magic that we thought was lost to time. It was once the practice of dark wizards and witches to perform such magic to extend their lives, but the pure evil of the magic began to bleed into the environment around the affected object…or creature.”
The goblin sighed, turning down a darkened corridor, and Griphook had to place a hand on Harry’s back to guide him forward. “Even in the dark ages, it was not often magic performed on living beings. But of the times it was, it was almost always done on a magic creature, as we live longer than most beings do. We figured out how to purge these shards once a dark wizard managed to capture our king and perform the spell on him.”
Harry gulped in fear, he had a feeling he knew who had done it to him, but not when, or how. “Voldemort…he’s the only one I know who might do that. But when? And how?”
The healer shook his head, though Harry couldn’t see it. “I do not know, young Master wizard. But be grateful it is such a small shard, though the implications of such a thing are horrifying. The magic from such a small soul shard is quite limited, and had it been any larger…well, let’s just say your blood test could have been much worse.”
Harry gulped, and nodded, as they came to a barely lightened doorway, through which Harry could see a low table illuminated from underneath – presumably by the same crystals that illuminated most of the goblin tunnels.
“The ritual we are going to perform is quite…painful, I am afraid, and it creates quite a mess. Though we have not performed this particular ritual in well over 100 years, I remember the last one like it was yesterday. We must be very precise. We will leave you to undress, fully, and when we come back, I will show you to the cleansing area.”
While he felt nervous at the thought of being in front of anyone naked, Harry was sure there was a reason for it. And after such a long time with the Dursley’s, and the pain of regrowing his arm bones in his second year…the thought of it being painful wasn’t as much of an issue for him.
He quickly undressed, placing his clothes on the table, and setting his shrunken trunk, glasses, and wand on top of the folded clothes. The fairy trilled, alighting on the trunk. Harry still didn’t know what they were saying, assuming they were saying something at all, but he assumed that meant the Fairy would stay there.
“You’re not coming with me?”
The fairy trilled, and Harry could almost swear the bells sounded a little sad this time. But…he figured there was a reason, so he simply smiled. “It’s alright. Thank you, for your help. Will you be there when it’s over?”
This time, Harry was sure the fairy was quite happy, and the reply was an affirmative, even if he didn’t understand the ‘words’ of the creature.
“Thank you.”
When Herbclaw came back into the room, Harry noticed that Griphook was no longer with him. “Master Griphook was required back up at the bank-proper, one of his clients required a meeting. Do not worry, he will be back afterwards.”
The goblin walked over to a seemingly-smooth wall, running his long, claw-like finger down it’s length – and a door seemingly opened out of nowhere. On the other side, Harry could faintly see a raised mound in the middle of the room, and several cloaked figures surrounding it – probably the healers from earlier. The Grandmaster healer led him into the room, guiding him to lay down in the middle.
“As I told you before, this ritual can be quite painful, but I am afraid it is necessary. You will likely pass out near completion of the ritual, which is completely fine. While you are passed out, we will begin working on your other injuries, though we can talk more about that when you are awake again. Is that agreeable?”
Harry couldn’t quite find it in him to voice his agreement, so he simply nodded his head. He hadn’t realized the comfort that the Fairy had given him until it was gone, and even with them being just a room over, Harry longed for the return of that warmth. Herbclaw grunted when he nodded, and gestured two goblins forward, who were carrying two bowls.
“When these bowls are put up to your lips you must drink all of it, do you understand? One is an enhanced cleansing potion, and the other is a blood replenishing potion. Not drinking both could mean that the soul shard remains, or you begin to bleed out, and we will have to perform the ritual all over again.”
He nodded once again, even as his fear continued to clog his throat, and the two goblins went back to their place in the circle. He wanted to ask why they would need a blood-replenishing potion, but at this point he had come so far and become so overwhelmed, he did not bother asking. Herbclaw moved away from the middle, announcing that the ritual will begin once he finishes preparations.
As he is waiting, Harry looks around the room he is in, as his eyes have finally begun to become accustomed to the low light of the goblin tunnels. The roof and walls seem to be solid stone, and the rivers of metal and pockets of crystal he had seen throughout the tunnels seemed to be missing from this room. As he turns his head to look at the floor around him, he notices markings in the stone closest to him. He couldn’t quite make them out without his glasses, but he assumed they were some sort of runes – or the written form of goblin-tongue, which he knew few other than goblins could actually read.
As he looked closer, he noticed rivets in the stone, starting in a circle around the central point – around him – and extending out to the edges of the room, where he could see nothing but the figures of the cloaked goblins.
Herbclaw began chanting in goblin-tongue, and as the others followed suit, Harry gulped in anxious determination. Looking back up at the ceiling, he didn’t notice when the light in the room began to grow, but when he finally noticed it and looked back towards the healers, he saw the runes in the floor much clearer than before. They were glowing with golden and silver light, and Harry could have sworn that they were beginning to float up off the floor.
A goblin walked up to harry with a dagger, and Harry was quite proud of himself when he didn’t even flinch as the goblin dug the dagger into his palms. They had nothing on a shard of glass in his side. After a minute, he placed Harry’s hands downwards, the symbols he had cut into his palms bleeding slowly but steadily onto the hewn stone floor. As the chanting increased, one of the goblins with a bowl stepped up to harry, kneeling and placing the bowl against his lips.
As harry let the potion flow into his mouth, he almost gagged at the taste – it was almost as bitter as Aunt Petunia’s espresso that she loved to have every morning, and it burned in his mouth – but he dutifully swallowed it all down. He felt his body tingle with warmth, and the blood from his hand flowed more and more, though he did not feel as if he was losing blood. This must be the blood replenishing potion.
As his blood flowed, he chanced a look at the rest of the room.
Well…that’s what those grooves are for, he thought, as he watched his blood flow into the grooves, and begin to glow under the light of the - definitely floating - runes. After a minute, which he assumed was them waiting for his blood to fill all of the grooves in the floor, the chanting changed in tone and urgency. The goblin with the dagger from before came forward, passing his hand and dagger over Harry’s arms, and he felt the blood stop flowing. He suspected that if he were to look, the wounds would be either closed or scabbed over now.
Well, he thought to himself, despite how terrifying this is, at least they healed my hand? He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but felt that maybe it would distract the others, so he didn’t. The healer with the other potion replaced the one with the dagger, and harry dutifully drank this one as well. Though, he instantly wished that he hadn’t.
The dagger cutting into his palms, and the subsequent draining of his blood, was not nearly as painful as Harry had expected. Especially since he had felt multiple shards of glass stabbing into him less than a day before. But as this potion went down, he felt like all of those glass shards had been ground up into sand-size still-sharp pieces and rubbed into his throat.
After he finished the potion, the goblin quickly backed up, and Harry knew why he did so once he began to cough. It was a wet cough, and he turned on his side as he coughed up something black and gooey.
Not the potion, he realized, as that was more watery, and glowed faintly with magic. This was like tar, except it smelled horrid, and was clearly nothing good. He continued to cough up this liquid, even as the goblins’ chant got louder and louder, until they were almost shouting. Then, he felt it.
Something in his head, directly underneath his scar, seemed to dislodge itself and travel back into his head and down into his throat. It burned like fire, and he wanted to scream, but all he could do was cough and cry, as it entered his throat and came out of his mouth. It was hard, like a rock, but it was black and somehow gave off a dark light. Then, it began to scream. Harry thought it was him at first, until the thing began hopping on the ground, trying to get back into him.
As his coughing subsided, harry felt his consciousness begin to slip away, and he barely noticed as the goblins and floating lights closed rank around him and the…thing, on the ground. By the time Herbclaw had taken his dagger out, stabbing the tiny shard of soul, Harry had slipped into unconsciousness, not knowing what was going to happen next.
~.~.~
Harry woke slowly, though he had no dreams to awaken from, and he felt longing for the deep sleep he had been in. He looked around at the infirmary, blinking the sleep out of his eyes, noticing the room was darkened more than before, and there was nobody else around. Well, except for the fairy, who seemed to also be sleeping, though Harry couldn’t fully tell.
As he sat up and waited for…well, anything, his memories began to come back to his sleep-addled brain. He remembered the beginning of the bank visit very well, and all of the...revelations that came with his inheritance test. Everything after that though was…fuzzy, almost like he’d been obliviated. He remembered meeting the grandmaster healer, but after that? Nothing.
He knew he had gone to get a cleansing ritual, for something called a soul shard?
It was with that thought that everything slammed back into his mind, and he was certainly fully awake now. He’d had a part of Voldemort’s soul inside his head! As he began to breathe deeper - in order to stave off the panic attack that had been incoming since the beginning of the day - he realized something was off. Which, of course, only made things worse.
He noticed the fairy float up and alight on his shoulder, something they were apparently keen to do frequently. But, much like he recognized during the ritual, the fairy instantly gave Harry a reprieve and a sense of calm. It was with this relief from his own brain, that he realized exactly what was throwing him off so much.
He didn’t feel any pain.
Thirteen, nearly Fourteen years old, and Harry had never really realized that he felt constant pain, because it was always part of him. And it wasn’t just the dull ache behind his scar that was gone, it was the crick in his neck, the dull throbbing in his ankle, and he suspected he wouldn’t get any more stabbing pains in his hand or arms as they moved. At least, not because of an old injury.
He was so enraptured in feeling relaxed for once that he didn’t notice the lightening of the room, nor when grandmaster Herbclaw walked into the room. Lifting his leg – the one he’d always favored a little because it got slightly more painful after a few hours of walking – he bent his knee and his ankle every which way. He wanted to cry - he was free from the dursley’s, and he wasn’t hurting anymore. Even if he now had so much more to worry about, he was free!
Herbclaw finally caught his attention when he moved forward to poke and prod at his now outstretched leg with his dagger, turning his foot left and right, dutifully ignoring Harry as he wiped the liquid from the corners of his eyes. Once he had pulled himself together a little more, the old healer let go of his foot and looked up at him, smiling.
“Well, Mr. Potter-Black, you seem to be nearly all healed up now. Thankfully it only took a couple days-” Seeing Harry’s eyes widen, he nodded, “Yes, unfortunately you were unconscious much longer than we anticipated. The ritual was intense, even for someone with a soul shard. there was a lot of negativity being purged from your body. While your blood – once replenished – was able to fight off and expunge a lot of it rather quickly, the sheer volume was too much for you to handle.”
He had kept his professional tone throughout the whole exchange, taking a seat at a stool that Harry hadn’t noticed sat next to his bed. Though, Harry could almost hear a tinge of relief in the old goblin’s scratchy voice.
“Thankfully, once we got you back to the infirmary it was quite clear that your body and core was just exhausted from the cleansing, and was working on healing your body. We got to work on breaking and re-healing your bones, since all your other ailments were mostly already taken care of, or long-gone.” He tapped on Harry’s knee with his dagger, “Your left leg was the worst. We tried to heal it through a little Skelegrow and some healing spells, but your ankle was severely damaged from the warped bones rubbing the tendons down to nothing. We disappeared the bones there, regrowing them with Skelegrow once we had replaced the almost nonexistent tendon.”
Pointing up to Harry’s scar, he continued with his monologue of symptoms and treatments, “Outside of that, and your leg, everything else was a clean heal. Your body is back to tip-top shape, and all blocks on your core and abilities are gone. I’m still amazed at the stupidity of the wizards who left those on you as long as they did. Master Gorluc apparently ripped into the idiots at the DMLE, who had ‘forgotten’ to remove them once you were enrolled at Hogwarts.”
He smiled at the wizard, patting his knee in a rare show of comfort for a goblin. “I still want you taking nutrient potions for a while, but you’re all healed now, Mr. Potter-Black. Your battle-scars remain, but you’re on the other side now.”
Harry was still – understandably – tearing up, but they were happy tears this time. He didn’t let them fall, not because he thought they were shameful, but because he knew that he’d likely be very busy now, and he couldn’t yet take the time it would take to finally have the breakdown he’d been postponing. As he rubbed at his eyes again, he realized something even more unbelievable than his lack of pain.
He could see Herbclaw. He could see the room around him, the glowing crystals in the walls and the rivers of metal.
And he didn’t have his glasses on.
“My glasses…I can see without them now?”
Herbclaw smiled – a true, goblin smile, one that would have made most wizards run for the hills. “A wizard’s magical core keeps their body in check, healing any small issues that may arise. Unless there is a block on their core, or a particularly draining chronic issue, a wizard will never need glasses, or hearing aids, or encounter the mutation muggles call ‘cancer’. Did you never wonder why you were one of the few wizards with glasses?”
Harry shook his head because he really hadn’t ever thought about it. Hermione had fixed his glasses that first year on the train with magic, so he’d thought that it was a spell for fixing glasses…then again, now he knew it was a spell for all sorts of repairs. He’d just figured that most of the Hogwarts students simply didn’t need them or had contacts. Now that he was paying attention though, he could almost feel the magic coursing through his veins.
“Well, as I mentioned you’re pretty much all healed-up – aside from the malnourishment – and I’m aware you likely still have a lot of questions. Master Gorluc is in her office; I can have Master Griphook come down to escort you there. Are there any questions you have for me?”
He thought for a moment, “You mentioned that Master Gorluc talked to people at the ministry. Do you know if my emancipation was accepted?”
The old goblin sighed, “Unfortunately, about that whole situation I know very little, aside from the fact that there are still those fighting against it. I was made aware of certain wizards trying, and failing, to infiltrate the bank to find you.” He smiled menacingly, but it only made Harry relax in relief, “They did not get very far, I can assure you. Imagine Dumbledore’s surprise when the Grandmaster Teller of the Bank disarmed him with a knife”
With that image in his head, and realizing that he was protected, Harry couldn’t help but smile. It didn’t take long for Griphook to get there – Harry suspected that he had already been on his way – and soon enough he was once again sitting in Gorluc’s office with the two goblins.
Master Gorluc did not waste any time, informing Harry of the news of the past few days. “Once you had left for the infirmary, my immediate concern was filing for your emancipation. Seeing as you had not yet claimed your lordships – and magically could not without removal of the blocks and soul shard – you legally had little right to accessing your vaults. Unfortunately, due to magical guardianship laws and the treaty we goblins signed, unless you are emancipated and/or Lord of your house you will not be able to access your vaults.”
She looked down at the desk, scowling at one of three envelopes sitting face-down. “I sent four copies of the paperwork out, as I assumed that some may be intercepted or ‘hushed-up’. You are, fortunately and unfortunately, quite famous – I did not expect those with power over you to give up easily.” She sighed, looking him in the eyes. “I was right.”
She handed him the letter she had been scowling at, and he recognized the emerald-green ink and Hogwarts seal, broken, on the tab. “Although I did not send any of these letters to Dumbledore, he was the first and quickest to send a reply. He called the claims ‘frivolous and untrue’ and demanded quite politely that we turn you over to him.”
She held up a hand at Harry’s worried expression, “I received this before your cleansing ritual was even complete, and that was two days past. If we were going to bow to these foolish demands of his, we would have done so already.”
She handed him the second envelope, with the seal of the ministry on top. “Our second reply was from Minister Fudge, also claiming that the paperwork was false, and you were well-looked after by your legal guardians. I took great pleasure in replying to him that as Minister, he does not have power over affairs of guardianship.”
She smiled, one of those real, goblin smiles that would terrify any other wizard, and continued, “That pleasure currently belongs to only three people, one of whom is someone who was a dear friend of your parents. I had difficulties contacting them through mail, even through direct Gringotts Box mail. So, I finally went to go see her in the Ministry yesterday, and she has agreed to come have a meeting with us this morning to finish the paperwork. She was quite upset to find that she had not received four different letters from us.”
Harry looked at the goblin curiously, “I…don’t know much about my parents, Master Gorluc, let alone their friends. Sirius hasn’t had time to tell me much yet.”
Shock crossed the goblin’s eyes – “Sirius Black? You’ve been in contact with him?”
Harry was wary, but nodded. The goblins had helped him, after all, if he explained what happened maybe they could eventually help Sirius. “It’s a rather long story, but, I can promise you that Sirius is innocent. The crimes he was arrested for were actually Pettigrew’s.”
The gobliness sighed, “Harry, Peter Pettigrew is dead, he was killed by Sirius Black.”
The young wizard shook his head firmly, “He isn’t, actually, I saw him last year when I first met Sirius. We were going to turn him in and prove Sirius’ innocence before…well, like I said it’s a long story.”
His bank teller sighed again, obviously not quite believing him, and Harry vowed to prove his godfather’s father’s innocence to her soon. The more he thought about it, the weirder it was to consider Sirius his father, but it still felt right, because it was right.
“I wish I could prove it to you. Dumbledore believed us, he even helped us free Sirius, but now that I think about it, he probably knew all along. He was the one who changed the secret keeper to Pettigrew.”
Harry didn’t notice the shock on Gorluc’s face, as a knock sounded at the door. It opened to reveal a pair of goblin guards, flanking a tall, stern-faced woman. When Harry turned back to the gobliness her face was void of emotion, and she quickly grabbed the last letter left on the desk and got to her feet.
“Young Master Potter-Black, Master Fairy, Mistress Bones, if you will all follow me, I will take us to one of the conference rooms. Master Griphook, if you will grab the paperwork for us and meet us there?”
The younger goblin nodded, bowing before he practically ran out of the room. The tall woman stared at Harry for a moment, and he withered a little under her gaze, which only wavered when the fairy trilled on Harry’s shoulder. Contrary to his attitude a few days prior, Harry was quite glad that someone could see the fairy this time. The small procession of wizards and goblins marched down the stone-hewed halls, a guard between ‘Mistress Bones’ and Harry, who was walking next to Gorluc.
Once they were all seated inside the conference room – which had to have been somewhere in the main bank, as it was all marble and mahogany wood – Gorluc offered them tea. Harry sipped on the hot liquid as they waited for Griphook, resolutely ignoring the way Mistress Bones’ eyes seemed to be on him constantly. After a few minutes, though, he couldn’t take the silence any more.
“Master Gorluc told me that you knew my parents. I’ll be the first to admit I don’t know much about them or their past – Aunt Petunia hated when I talked about them – but Professor Lupin didn’t mention you.”
After Gorluc’s reaction to him talking to Sirius, he realized that he would need a ‘scapegoat’ so-to-speak. And, well, Professor Lupin was close friends with his parents.
Mistress Bones blinked in surprise, and though her expression didn’t change, he could have almost sworn her eyes seemed softer somehow. “I was never quite as close to them as Lupin was, or any of the ‘marauders’ for that matter.” She snorted, but tried to hide it as a cough, which made Harry smile. “I was in Hufflepuff, so I only shared a few classes with her, but I eventually grew to be friends with your mother.”
She smirked lightly, seemingly forgetting about the goblin sitting at the head of the table, “I remember listening to her complain about James’ flirting, and once they were dating, his sheer annoyance. We were never quite that close, but close enough for me to be invited to the wedding, and a yearly invitation to yule.”
She smiled lightly at him, and he returned the gesture, getting to hear about his parents again. “I remember when they found out they were having you, your mother was her usual, calm self. I also remember your father coming in to work and getting stunned twice because he was so off-kilter.” She huffed, “Sirius dragged him home after that, he was gone for a week before he finally got back into the swing of things. Though that didn’t stop Sirius from blasting him with a laughing-jinx every time he looked like he was going to have a freak-out.”
Her smile faded a little, pity crossing her face for a moment. “I’m sure you miss them. Even if you never met them, they were your parents.”
Harry nodded, turning to look at Gorluc, who was resolutely ignoring them both as she pretended to read one of the files she had brought with her. “Of course I do, but I’m sure that they’d be happy for me right now.” He smiled sadly at her, “I escaped the Dursley’s, and the goblins helped me heal. I don’t even have to wear glasses anymore!”
A few emotions crossed her face, and though he couldn’t pick them all out, he was sure that surprise was one of them. “Your glasses weren’t for show? I know your father’s were, he thought they made him look like the cool nerdy kid.”
Harry once again shook his head, “No, I’d had them since 2nd year of primary. Grandmaster Herbclaw said that once they removed the blocks on my core, my magic was able to heal the damage on my eyes.”
She winced, and hung her head. “I’m sorry, Harry. As Head of the DMLE, that is partially my fault. Those blocks were placed before I was made head of the department, and somehow I was not notified that there were ever blocks placed on you. I apologize for whatever damage that may have caused.”
At this, Gorluc intervened, though she did not look up from her file, “The partial bill for our Healers’ services has been sent to your office both by mail and by courier, due to the apparent interception we encountered this week. Once today’s business is concluded, the payment can be deposited directly into one of Mr. Potter-Black’s vaults to repay him.”
Mistress Bones nodded her assent, seemingly not shocked at all by Harry’s double last name. Which, he realized, means she probably knew. He realized in that same moment, that as head of the DMLE she would have access to court records and could prove that Sirius didn’t have a trial. He was about to ask her about it when she looked at him worriedly, and asked a question of her own.
“Your hair…it’s grown, just in the last few minutes. It almost looks like Sirius’ now, all curly and black. Are you a metamorphmagus, Harry?”
He didn’t have a chance to reply, before the old, scratchy voice of Herbclaw did so for him. “Young master Potter-Black has a number of magical talents that were blocked from a young age. Luckily for your department, none of those blocks were done by an Auror. However, young master Potter-Black now has access to those talents, one of which is that of metamorphosis.”
Mistress Bones, apparently not surprised by the grandmaster healer’s silent entrance, simply nodded and replaced her stone-faced mask that had faded over their conversation. “There is a young Auror-in-training that is a Metamorphmagus, she’s a cousin of yours on the Black side. That may be where you got the magic, actually. I could ask her to help train you, or recommend some reading or something if you wish.”
Gorluc grunted, finally leaving some of the decisions to Harry. He smiled at her gratefully, and turned the same smile to Mistress Bones. “Thank you, Miss Bones, I would appreciate that. I also had something I was hoping you could do for me yourself, after this is over of course.”
She waved her hand, as if waving bugs away from her, “It’s the very least I can do, Harry, and please call me Amelia. I may not have been there for you when I should have, but knowing all of this-” gesturing towards Harry and the Fairy now floating just above the table, “-I’m hoping I can change that now. What is the thing you need me to do?”
By this time, Herbclaw and Griphook had both taken seats by Gorluc, and though Harry knew they had a lot to do today he needed to at least try. “Can you look into Sir-…My father’s court records? I only found out the other day that Sirius blood-adopted me, but I just…I talked to Lupin and I’m pretty sure the full story isn’t what everyone thinks. I want to make sure the truth is out there you know?”
Once again, Mistress Bones’ poker face did not quite betray her emotions, but Harry is quite good at recognizing emotion in people’s eyes. Pity, but also determination, were rampant in her eyes. “Of course, Harry. I’ll look into it immediately – though I will say that it will take some time. There were many, many trials in those days you know.”
He only smiled, sitting back in his chair as the tension he hadn’t realized sitting on his shoulders began to dissipate. Even if it wasn’t a guarantee, he now had a chance to prove Sirius’ innocence. He didn’t fail to notice the suspicion in Gorluc’s eyes, though.
“Well,” she started, seeming to brush off the concerns she may have had, “Now that we’re all here, I can explain things to you Mistress Bones. I’m sure you’ve now read the situation in the letter I handed to you, but we can answer any questions you may have about this.”
The witch settled her hands in front of her on the table, clasped together in an almost white-knuckled grip. “The presence of a fairy proves the necessity for emancipation – and were it any other child, it would have been a simple procedure. But the minister, and weirdly enough Dumbledore, are both fighting to keep him with his current guardian despite the presence of a fairy. Thankfully, the way the laws are written with a fairy involved, I have the power to emancipate Mr. Potter-Black and none can veto it.”
As she finishes, she looks into Harry’s eyes, “But because you are so famous, Harry, and the two most powerful men are fighting against this, I will need the full story and a guarantee that wherever you go now will be safe. People will ask questions, will question your ability to care for yourself, and Dumbledore has enough support to call for a Wizengamot vote to place you under Hogwarts custody, if nothing else.”
Harry gulped, looking over to Gorluc, who seemed unsurprised at this. “I think you’ll see, once everything is explained, that this is more than required. And if we need to publish the list of injuries against Mr. Potter-Black’s person-” she looked at Harry at this, who simply nodded, sinking back into his chair as the fairy alighted on his shoulder, “-then so be it.”
Harry barely paid attention after that, intentionally focusing elsewhere when they went over the list of injuries he’d had – though he noticed they left out the part about the soul-shard. The table was very interesting, and Harry counted quite a few grooves in the wood when they started talking about some of his more intense injuries. By the time it was over, he’d counted fourty-two between him and Amelia’s trembling hands.
Griphook spoke up after Herbclaw was done reading off his injuries, “When Mr. Potter-Black arrived at our bank two days ago with the fairy on his shoulder, we were simultaneously made aware of a number of glaring issues. One: his current magical guardian was ‘forced’, meaning the person or persons it should have been were all looked over, and not properly considered for the role. Two: The persons Mr. Potter-Black were living with were not his magical guardians, but his mother’s sister who – upon further investigation into the Potters’ will – was explicitly stated as abusive, and not fit to be Harry’s Guardians in any capacity. Three: The person who forcibly took the role of Harry’s Magical Guardian was not fit in any capacity whatsoever, and did more damage than would have happened if Mr. Potter-Black had been placed in a magical orphanage.”
The shorter goblin glared at Mistress Bones, “Under no circumstances will this fae-touched child be placed back with any of these persons, in any capacity.”
Before he could continue, Amelia held her hand up to stop him, though Harry could still see the – now slight - tremble in her hands. “Any of these instances individually would be enough to prove the need for emancipation, but all of them together will be more than enough to do so.” She looked over at the young wizard, and he couldn’t help but frown at the clear pity in her eyes, “I am sorry you had to go through all of that, Harry.”
Griphook slid a paper across the table to her, and she barely glanced at it before signing with the accompanying quill. She then took out her wand, swishing it over the paper, and her signature began to glow gold. Harry practically had stars in his eyes, though none took notice, focusing on the paper instead.
“Hadrian James Hydrus Potter-Black is hereby legally emancipated from his magical and muggle guardians. If Mr. Potter-Black requires assistance in taking care of himself, he may petition the Ministry and his choice for guardian for a change in status at any point in time.”
As Amelia finished speaking, the light began to fade, and when it finally dissipated there was a light sheen of glitter across the entire paper. Seeing Harry’s curious look, she explained “This is a protection spell that a marvelous witch invented in the 1920’s – it guards against tampering, water damage, fire damage, pretty much everything. The sheen of magic is unique to each individual. If anyone tries to change this, we’ll know.”
Harry sighed in relief, chancing a look over at Gorluc, who seemed pretty pleased herself. He had noticed through the whole conversation that they never once mentioned who his magical guardian was, simply the things they had done wrong. Which, seeing as it was Dumbledore and everyone seems to love the man, makes some sense. Griphook tapped the parchment with his dagger, duplicating it (which consequently made the sheen of magic on his own paper turn red). As Amelia placed the original in her bag, the fairy trilled lightly making Harry jump because he could actually hear something other than bells this time, though he still couldn’t understand them.
Shaking off the slight shock from that, he focused his attention back on the witch, who was now looking at him with concern. “Now you are emancipated, Harry, but I still need a guarantee that you will be safe wherever you end up. Even disregarding my position at the ministry, I cannot let you go off completely on your own.”
Gorluc tapped the table with one of her claw-like fingers, catching their attention. “Mr. Potter-Black has a number of properties he can go to, but there is also an alternative we were planning to discuss with him before everything happened.”
She smiled at him, one of those goblin-smiles which made Mistress Bones shiver in fear, “But make no mistake, Mistress Bones, we will not let Mr. Potter leave unprotected. He is fae-touched now, and us creatures-” she sneered at that “-protect our own, including fae-touched wizards and witches.”
The older witch simply nodded, before standing and holding her hand out to Harry. “It was nice to see you again, Harry. I’ll look into those court records, and if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to send me an owl.”
Harry gratefully shook her hand, sitting back down at the table when he noticed the goblins had not moved. They all watched as Mistress Bones walked out of the room with the goblin guard, and when the door shut with a definitive, echoing click, Harry turned towards his goblin friends.
Well, he considered them his friends anyway, they did save him after all. He’d come into the bank expecting to grab a couple handfuls of gold and just run away, but now he had a world of opportunities open to him.
“You mentioned an alternative?” he asked, smiling at the elder goblin. And in turn, she smiled herself, as griphook looked at her in confusion.
“Oh yes, Mr. Potter-Black. This situation is bound to get a lot of media attention, and once you return to Hogwarts, things will likely be quite hectic for you. How would you feel about leaving England for a little while?”