Chapter 8
By the time Harry made his way down the stairs, Hermione and Malfoy were nose-deep in paperwork across from a very dismayed goblin. The goblin gasped and rose when Harry entered.
“Forgive me, Lord Potter. They would not wait for your authorisation,” the goblin said, scowling.
Harry waved him off. “It’s quite alright, …”
“Grannuff, sir,” the goblin supplied for him.
Malfoy indicated for him to sit down at the head of the table. Harry did as he were bid and indicated for Grannuff to take his place.
“It’s quite alright, Grannuff. Ms. Granger and Lord Malfoy will understand it much better than I will,” Harry smiled. “They are my…” he trailed off, not sure what to say. Friends? Hermione, certainly. Malfoy, not so much.
“Advisors?” Ron supplied helpfully from the floor where he was playing peek-a-boo with Teddy.
Harry nodded shortly. Malfoy smirked, but turned to business. “I think for security reasons, we should keep the vaults at Gringotts separate. They should be under one account, though. This amount of paperwork is quite ridiculous,” he drawled at Grannuff.
Grannuff gulped audibly and produced four separate pieces of parchment from the pile. Snapping his fingers, the pages melted together to create one long roll of parchment. “Your inventory, Lord Potter,” the goblin said, handing it to Harry.
Harry glanced down at it. The amount of money sent a chill down his spine and heat rush to his cheeks. Quickly passing it to Hermione, he nodded his thanks to Grannuff.
Hermione frowned, reading it, and comparing it to her records. “There are 8000 galleons missing from the Potter accounts,” she muttered, handing the parchment to Malfoy.
Harry looked up sharply. “Who else had access to the account?”
Grannuff fished for a document. “According to our records, only you and Mr. Albus Dumbledore.”
“Do you know where this money has gone?” Harry asked, not surprised by the goblin’s answer.
Grannuff glanced at the document he was holding. “According to our records, 500 galleons were converted to the muggle British pound and withdrawn every year since 1981.”
Harry nodded. The Dursley’s. “Good to know how much I am worth,” he muttered. Addressing the goblin, he asked, “How many people have access to these accounts now?”
“Only you, Lord Potter,” Grannuff said.
“Right. Okay. Good.” He rubbed a hand over his scar.
Malfoy coughed, drawing their attention. “Grannuff, please arrange for the gold to be kept in the separate vaults for each House. Are you able to remove all of the artefacts to a separate place without touching them?” he asked. At Grannuff’s confirmation, he nodded. “Please do so at your earliest convenience.” Turning to Harry, he added, “I don’t think you should touch any of the artefacts in those vaults until a Curse-Breaker has gone through them all.”
Harry nodded, remembering the debacle with Bellatrix’ vault. Remembering the large hole he had left in the bank’s ceiling the last time he’d been there, he turned to Grannuff. “I’m sorry for the harm we caused your establishment recently. Is there anything I can do to repay Gringotts?”
Malfoy sucked in a breath. Harry internally rolled his eyes, knowing he had broken some sort of pure-blood protocol. The goblin, however, smiled in a way that Harry was sure was not meant to be nasty. “You are wise, Lord Potter, to seek forgiveness from the goblins. Many wizards wouldn’t. The hole has already been repaired.” Grannuff paused, and then added, “The goblins do not interest themselves with the wars of wizards, but I am glad to be having this conversation with you rather than your counterpart.”
Harry shuddered at the idea of Voldemort being his counterpart, but nodded at the goblin, allowing the subject to drop.
Malfoy cleared his throat, and business resumed. Hermione, Malfoy and Grannuff discussed in detail Harry’s assets, but Harry himself found his attention wandering. Malfoy kicked him in the shin.
“Ow,” Harry complained, pulled out of his reverie. “What?”
Malfoy gestured at the box in front of him. Harry opened it cautiously. Inside were five rings, each with a silver band, but with different gems.
“Your family rings,” Malfoy said by way of explanation. “Put them on your right ring-finger,” he said, showing Harry his hand. Placed on his right ring-finger was a silver band, much like those in the box, with a deep blue gem in the middle.
Harry did as he was bid, Malfoy indicating which family each ring belonged to as he picked them up.
The Black ring was like its name, a dark obsidian jewel glinting under the lights. Harry slipped it onto his finger and it glowed, resizing to fit.
The Gaunt ring was a green sapphire, according to Malfoy, deep in colour like a forest. Harry slipped it onto the same finger, wondering how all of them were going to fit. Glowing warm, the sapphire seemed to slip off the Gaunt band and squeezed next to the Black jewel on the same band.
“You can remove the extra band,” Malfoy said. Harry put it back in the box.
The Peverell gem was a greyish-white but seemed to be iridescent under the light from the sconces on the walls. According to Malfoy it was a labradorite, and the iridescence was called labradorescence.
The Potter gem was, rather predictably a large ruby. Harry held it in his palm for a touch longer than the others, wondering if his dad had ever worn it. Placing it on his finger, the ring warmed again, letting off a bright light as the four gems settled on the band.
Harry decided not to place the Potter band back in the box like he had with the others, slipping it onto the middle finger of his left hand. Sure Malfoy was going to call him something to the effect of a sentimental fool, he turned to face him, but Malfoy nodded approvingly.
Harry reached for the last ring in the box. It was smaller than the others and gold, not silver. The top of the ring was flat and featured a small engraving of the Potter family crest.
“It’s your signet ring. You wear it on the pinkie of your non-dominant hand,” Malfoy told him, showing his own ring on the pinkie of his left hand. “When you send official correspondence, you’ll seal it with your ring.”
Harry thought the rings on his fingers felt a bit heavy and unusual but knew there’d be hell to pay if he tried to take them off.
Hermione leaned in. “Is it true the family rings can act as a portkey to your family home?” she asked Malfoy.
Malfoy paused, but nodded. “That feature can be disabled, however,” he said quietly. Shaking his head, he turned to Grannuff. “Speaking of, do you have documentation of Lord Potter’s estates?”
“Of course,” Grannuff said, looking mildly offended. “Lord Potter has inherited several, including this one,” he said as he produced another roll of parchment.
Harry reached for it hungrily, searching the list for the house he’d wanted to visit more than anything in his life. He breathed out. There it was – the Potter Manor. Where his dad had been raised. Where Sirius had run away to when he was sixteen. Where his grandparents had lived. His home. “Thank you,” he said softly.
Grannuff nodded. “Unless you have any other questions, Lord Potter, I’ll be off.” With a grateful handshake from Harry, a crack sounded and the goblin disappeared.
“I just need a few minutes,” he said quietly in the vague direction of the living room. Scooping Teddy up, he walked in silence to the nursery.
Teddy gurgled in his arms and, as he took his seat in an old armchair, he bounced the baby with his knee.
“I don’t know, Teddy,” he said quietly to the infant. Teddy looked up at him with big, unblinking blue eyes. Harry glanced down at his hands. “I really wish I had my dad. Or Sirius. Or your dad,” he whispered, refusing to let a tear fall down his cheek.
It was all getting a bit much for him. With the rings on his fingers, he had never felt closer to his parents, but also had never felt further away from them. “I miss them,” he said to Teddy.
A few minutes later, Harry had steeled himself enough to return to the others. “Hey, sorry about that,” he said as he walked in.
“Oh, Harry,” Hermione said, coming over to give him a tight hug. “You okay?”
“Yep. Are you guys free to go on an excursion?” Harry asked, his tone making it clear he didn’t want to talk about it.
Ron grinned, clapping him on the back. “Of course. Excursions with you are always fun.”
Harry laughed. He turned to Malfoy, who was still making notes on the parchment strewn all over the desk. “What about you, Malfoy?”
“The Potter Manor?” Malfoy asked. He rubbed his forearm. “I might stay here if that’s okay. I’ve got a lot of work to do,” he said nonchalantly.
Harry frowned but didn’t press him. He had mentioned it was in Wiltshire. Perhaps it was too close to Malfoy Manor for his comfort. “How do we get there?” he asked, instead.
“Just tap your wand against your ring, and think of where you want to go,” Malfoy said. “It will be under stasis, so when you get there you’ll be the only one who can see it. You’ll have to bleed two drops on the ground, and then invite Granger and Weasley in. I imagine there’ll be house elves there. They’ll walk you through the rest.”
Harry couldn’t help but think that it would be much easier if Malfoy just came with them, but he couldn’t wait to see the house. Nodding his goodbye to Malfoy, and wrapping Teddy in his sling, he linked arms with his friends.
Tapping his ring with the Elder Wand, he held his breath. Realising he didn’t know what the place would look like, he thought of instead the words printed on the parchment he’d seen earlier. Potter Manor, Wiltshire.
He felt the familiar tug of apparition and held on tight to Teddy as they spun into the darkness.