The Will of the Father
Harry woke with the dawn; just as he’d been long trained by his relatives to do. Even when he lived in the small space in the cupboard under the stairs, to not be awake and ready when Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon eventually came to let him out courted punishment.
The light streaming in through his open window lit blurry dust motes swirling in the early morning breeze and for a moment Harry almost felt at peace. As he reached for his glasses, however, that quiet peace was shattered as the various bruises and aches that littered his body sprang back to the forefront of him mind. Harry let out a low groan as he was forced to stretch in order to grab his glasses and in his sleep heavy clumsiness, knocked the letter sent to him by Gringotts to the floor. Glassed retrieved, Harry showed some of the agility that had made him the youngest seeker in a century and manoeuvred off the bed in a way that avoided jostling his various wounds.
Harry carefully bent and retrieved his letter, noting with a level of sad disinterest as he did that there didn’t seem to be any other mail for him. Re-reading the letter now that he was actually coherent, Harry felt his brows rise in the odd mix of confusion, surprise and apprehension that seemed to happen to him far more often then he’d like.
Heir Potter,
Salutation on your 16th birthday.
As you no doubt know, you have now come fully into your inheritance and we require you to make your way to Gringotts at your earliest convenience to sign paperwork formalising this.
As you are currently below the age of magical majority and have yet to file papers with the Ministry, this paper will act as a portkey and bring you to the bank should you be unable to make alternative travel arrangements. Simply repeat the phrase “Fortius Quo Fidelius” to activate. An appointment has been made for 8:00 am today, if this is an inconvenient time please owl back with a more appropriate time and date.
May your vaults be full of gold and your enemies struck with fear.
Master Griphook, Senior Accounts Manager
The only parts of the letter that Harry fully understood was the acknowledgment of his birthday, the time of his appointment and that Gringotts had gotten his surname correct. The rest, while in plain English, was infinitely confusing for Harry.
Harry looked at his clock, reading just past 5 am in the glowing red dash. Harry lay back down on his bed, carefully sliding onto his front to protect his whip weals from direct contact. Since Hedwig was locked away, and there was no chance that Harry would wake his aunt or uncle up to get the key, there was no way for Harry to get a message to Gringotts, so Harry settled in to wait out the next couple of hours, hoping against hope that he could get to Gringotts, sign whatever paperwork he had to sign as quickly as possible, and get back to his bedroom in Privet drive before the Dursley’s woke up.
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At seven thirty exactly, Harry carefully stood and made his way over to his wardrobe, exchanging the set of oversized pyjamas for a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, both too large, but clean and well mended. Harry thought it would be best to wear his ‘best’ clothes to the bank, and since he couldn’t get his robes from his trunk this was really going to have to do. Sliding his feet into ratty sneakers, Harry bent to tie the laces as tight as he could, but in doing so managed to overstretch over sore muscles and he flinched violently, knocking Hedwig’s cage. It clattered loudly to the floor and Hedwig, violently tossed around, screeched in protest.
Harry froze, and wished to any deity listening that his relatives would sleep through the racket. It didn’t seem anyone was listening though, as his uncle came awake with a loud exclamation.
“THAT RUDDY BIRD!” Uncle Vernon roared. Harry heard him heave himself up and start down the hallway, his footsteps thumping loudly.
Harry’s stomach clenched and with his heart beating in his ears, looked wildly round for an escape route. Frantically searching his room, Harry’s eyes stopped on the letter from Gringotts.
Teeth clenched, Harry swooped down and grabbed Hedwig’s cage and hoped that traveling by portkey wouldn’t cause the snowy owl any harm. Holding tight to his owl, Harry reached for the piece of paper and whispered the activation code, just as Uncle Vernon finished unlocking the various locks and dead bolts. The last thing Harry saw as he spun away was his uncle's puce face frozen in horror in the open doorway.
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Harry landed heavily, slamming to the ground with Hedwig in her cage ending up on top of him. He had landed in the middle of the Gringotts entrance hall and all around him witches, wizards and goblin stoped and stared at him. Harry stood and had to stifle a gasp, as the rough landing hadn’t done his bruised and battered body any favours. Smoothing his unruly black hair down and over his scar as a nervous habit, Harry walked quickly towards the front desk, ignoring the quiet (and not so quiet) whispers that began to spread like a ripple as people realised who he was.
Just the year before Harry had been branded by both the public and the Ministry as a liar and a lunatic, but with the events in the Ministry that night the public once again seemed to like him, even if it was as the mythic saviour of the wizarding world, rather then just as himself, Harry thought bitterly to himself.
Stepping up to the front desk Harry waited quietly in line as the few people in front of him were served. As he waited, Harry checked on Hedwig, ignoring her angry gaze in favour or visually checking her for damage. Hopefully Harry would be able to find someone willing to Alohamora the lock off for him so that he could send her to Hogwarts for the rest of the summer. Finally, the goblin at the desk called for the next person and Harry stepped quickly forward.
“Good Morning Sir, I think I have an appointment with a Master Griphook? I know I’m a little early but it was set for eight am? Is he available now or should I come back?” Harry babbled nervously. He still wasn’t entirely sure why he was at the wizarding bank, and was torn between trying to get this done as fast as possible to try and appease his no doubt incensed relatives, or to drag it out in the hope that it would give his uncle time to cool off.
“Ah yes. Young Mr Potter. Please follow Rustsnipe here through to the offices. Griphook is waiting for you.” The goblin at the desk peered down at him from his raised chair.
Another short statured goblin had appeared at Harrys elbow, and once he had Harry’s attention proceeded to lead him through a maze of hallways until they reached a door emblazoned with the gold lettering telling him that he had reached the offices of ‘Griphook, Senior Accounts Manager’. Rustsnipe turned and left silently, leaving Harry to knock quietly and wait for Griphook to call for him to enter.
Walking into a well-appointed office, Harry started when he realised that he recognised the goblin that had stood to meet him.
“Hey, I know you! You’re the goblin that took me to my vault the first time I came to Gringotts with Hagrid. Oh, um, it’s nice to see you again.” Harry ended, remembering his manners.
“Well met Mr Potter. I’ve been the account manager for the Potter estate since before you were born and it was my duty and honour to show the last scion of the Ancient House of Potter to his trust vault.” Griphook nodded once, then gestured to the chairs in front of his desk.
“If its not to much trouble Master Griphook, I’d rather stand” Harry responded, thinking about his still aching backside. He did however place Hedwig’s cage on the floor near the door, the goblin side eyeing it in some confusion. “The letter you sent me mentioned an inheritance? I’ve never heard of an inheritance.”
“Ah. I suspected this might have been an issue when you didn’t make contact with me once you started schooling to review your accounts. Your Regent has been receiving quarterly updates since your parents died, but I still can’t technically tell you about the vaults, properties and investments that belong to you.” The goblin paused, a scowl coming over his face.
“By order of the Wizengamot and the Chief Warlock, the Wills of both your parents and Lord Black were permanently sealed and I am bound by a vow of confidentiality not to reveal what they contain. There is, however, a very old and seldom used loophole.” At this, the goblin grinned savagely, clearly happy to pull one over the wizards. “Much like the self-updating book of students at Hogwarts, Gringotts keep a book that updates every time a heir is born, and consequently comes into their inheritance regardless of if the will of the predecessor has been read or not. It’s very old goblin magic and no wizard can circumvent it, not even the Chief Warlock. Now, only the Wizengamot can unseal a document they have sealed and that action must be passed by a two-thirds majority, something that almost never happens. Unless, that is, the Head of the House the individuals in question belong to requests the Wills directly from Gringotts. ”
Harry just stood there looking blankly at the short figure sitting behind the large mahogany desk stacked with papers. This was almost as bad as his History of Magic classes and Harry thought to himself that it was times like this that he really missed Hermione.
The goblin looked at Harry of his glasses expectantly, and seeing no understanding on his blank face continued.
“At midnight last night, The Book of Heirs updated itself to show that a Harry James Potter had become Lord Potter and Lord Black. Clearly, both your father and godfather named your as Heir in their wills, something no-doubt outlined in their wills.”
At this, Harry leaned heavily on the chair next to him. Lord Potter and Lord Black? He had know that his parents were wealthy based on his vault and that Sirius had come from old pureblood money, but Lords? Why had no one mentioned this to him before? Surely that should have come up, even in passing?
“In the event that we were to perform a simple identification spell using a drop of your blood to confirm your identity” Griphook continued, “that would count, in a magical sense, as accepting your lordships and enter you into a legally binding magical contract to ensure you fulfil your duties.”
Harry gaped at this, totally stumped. Smirking now, the goblin kept talking.
“And, as the head of both the Potter and Black Family's, you can…”
“I can ask for my parent’s and Sirius’s wills to be read. They might have left me some clues about this whole Lord thing, or even just a letter telling me how much they love me. That’s common enough, even with the muggles.” Having finally processed what Griphook was saying, in his exclamation of understanding Harry hadn’t even realised he had cut the goblin off. Griphook sat back in his chair and listened to the supposed saviour of the wizarding world babble his thoughts out loud for a few moments, before once again calling for Harry’s attention.
“Mr Potter, do you wish to proceed with the blood identification? If not, your Regent has given me authorisation to give you a full accounting of your trust vault. I should also warn you that in the event that the spell does prove you to be Lord Potter and Lord Black, you would automatically become emancipated, though you may choose to stay with your guardians if you so choose.”
“Yes. Yes please, let's do the blood identification spell” Harry exclaimed, for the moment ignoring the desire for information about what a regent was, what exactly a trust vault was and the whole emancipation thing. All he wanted was to read his parents words and look for some sign that they loved him in the words.
“Good good. Just follow me then and feel free to leave the owl here, no one may enter without my permission.”
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Having followed Griphook though another set of corridors and hallways, eventually coming to a room that was almost empty, their footsteps echoing off stone walls and cold floors. The only furnishings were a large workbench like those in the potions classroom at Hogwarts, on which sat a long sheet of what appeared to be plain parchment and a silver knife, and a giant book resting on a stand in the exact centre of the room.
“The Book of Heirs” Griphook explained, ushering Harry inside, nodding to the stand “holds the name of every Heir and Lord from all noble families going back to the way to the time of Merlin. A number of the old families have died out, as the male line has ended and no other heir has stepped forward as a claimant. The identification ritual hasn’t been done in more then a century, so this should be an interesting experience.”
Guiding Harry over to the table, Griphook took Harry’s hand and made a small cut on his index finger, allowing the single drop of blood to hit the parchment below. The cut closed with a wave of the goblins hand and the small goblin began chanting in Gobbledegook. The drop of blood absorbed into the parchment and then great scrolling text began to write itself out of the every unravelling parchment.
Harry James Potter
Son of James Fleamont Potter and Lily Marie Potter née Evans
Born: 31st of July in the year 1980
Godric's Hollow, West Country, England, Great Britain
Lord of the Ancient House of Potter
Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Black
Heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Gryffindor
Heir Of the Ancient and Noble House of Peverell
Magical Gifts: Parseltongue, Metamorph, Elemental Magic, Mothers Protection, Healing, Runes
Magical Bonds: Power (6 months), Metamorph (15 months), Elemental (15 months), Power (15 months), Mate Potential (15 months), Healing (11 years),
Life Debts Owed: Ginevra Molly Weasley, House of Weasley, Peter Pettigrew
Griphook started to read the parchment out loud, but paused when, rather then ending after the acknowledgment of Mr potter as Lord of the ancient and Noble House of Black, the scrolling text continued, naming the young wizard as heir to both the Gryffindor and Peverell families and listing his gifts, bonds and life debts. There was no mention of this happening in previous recordings of this spell, but it was not outside the realm of possibilities for what the magic of the spell could do.
Griphook knew the vast wealth the Potter Estate held, and could imagine that the holdings of an Ancient and Noble house like the Blacks would be immense, but what really made him stare was the inclusion of the Gryffindor and Peverell names. As far as he was aware, there had been no claimant for either House in nearly five hundred years, as the male bloodline had run out long ago, so Merlin knows what those vaults where like by now. Should Harry choose to claim those Lordships as well, he would arguably be one of the wealthiest 16 year olds in the world.
Then there was the issue of the gifts and the bindings, as who in their right mind would continue to bind a child past the basic binding parents put on extremely magical children to help prevent accidental magic. To bind a child’s inherited magical gifts was cruel, to bind power twice was almost unheard of and to bind a child’s Mate Potential was actually illegal. Binding of this form would make it extremely hard for a child to perform magic at all, as their magical core would be off balance and would lead to a feeling of constantly missing something, much like Auror's who claimed to still be able to feel limbs long cursed off. Griphook had his suspicions about who had caused the Potter boy such damaged, but looking once again at Harry, knew that his suspicions would have to wait.
Harry stood, frozen at what he had read. Moments of his life flashed before his eyes, clues clicking into the larger jigsaw of his existence.
Pulling Gryffindor’s sword from the Sorting Hat in first year. His hair staying the same regardless of how often it was cut and brushed. Lightning cracking when he was angry. How he sometimes felt like he was trying to force his magic out, like water through a funnel. The number of times as a child he had gone to bed with what he now recognised as broken bones and woke up fine. The only thing he didn’t know about was the Mate Potential. That, and why someone had bound these gifts, particularly his healing, since by the time he was 11 he would have been at Hogwarts!
Taking hold of the parchment, Griphook gestured for Harry to follow him and he led the still silent boy back to his office. He once again asked Harry to sit down, only to get a shake of the head.
“Well… Do you still want me to proceed with the unsealing of the Wills, or would you prefer to wait?” The goblin asked softly.
“No, Master Griphook, please get my parent’s and Sirius’s wills for me. I think I need to read them at this point.” The boy replied equally softly.
The goblin left the office, and minutes later came back with what looked like a Pensieve and three glass vials, along with a small stack of letters. The letters Harry understood, but the Pensieve left him bewildered.
Setting the Pensieve on his desk, Griphook uncorked the first vial and poured it into the shallow dish before waving his hand over it. To Harry’s continued shock his father's head and shoulders floated out of the bowl and in a voice that Harry didn’t remember ever hearing, began to speak.
“I, James Fleamont Potter, do swear on my magic that this is my last Will and Testament.
To Remus Lupin, I leave 2 million galleons, and the ownership of Rose Cottage in Kent. You’re a dear friend Moony, and I want you looked after when I’m gone, don’t complain, and don’t you dare feel guilty.
To our secret-keeper, Peter Pettigrew, I leave 3 million galleons. I’d give you a house old friend, but I know how particular you can be about these sorts of things.
To my oldest and closest friend, I leave not money, but my most precious treasure. In the event that both Lily and I die before Harry reaches adulthood, Sirius Orion Black is to take custody of my child and heir Harry James Potter.
Should Sirius be unable to take custody, Harry should go to his godmother Alice Longbottom. In the event that she too is unable to take custody, then Harry should go to Severus Snape. Lily and I both agree on this appointment, and the reasoning is explained more in her letter.
Should Snape be unable to take custody then he should go first to Minerva McGonagall, then to Filius Flitwick and then to Arthur Weasley. Under no circumstances is he to be placed with my wife’s family, the Dursley’s.
Everything else I leave to Lily Potter to hold in trust for my son until he reaches his majority. Should she also die prematurely, Harry is to inherit the lordship and all the vaults, to be guarded by his Regent, Henry Ralston, who has been the Potter Steward since my father was a boy. Upon his 16th birthday, Harry is to be allowed full early access to his inheritance, including the responsibilities of the lordship. Since he will have grown up surrounded by love and support I have no doubt he will be equal to the challenge.
Lily and I have left letters for people, left in the care of Gringotts, which are to be distributed after our death.
Harry my boy, if you’re watching this, just know that you are the light of you’re mum and mines life. We love you so incredibly much, never forget that. I know that no matter what you do and who you become you will make us both so proud.
James Fleamont Potter”
The head and shoulders of the long deceased Potter sank back into the Pensieve and Harry watched his fathers face disappeared. There was a strange rushing sound in his ears, and he felt somewhat lightheaded.
Remus should have had a home. Wormtail was named as the secret keeper. Sirius should never been in Azkaban. Snape was his guardian. He never should have gone to the Dursley’s.
Griphook watched as the boy in front of him became progressively paler as the Will went on. Having been the goblin that recorded it, he had already known the contents, leaving him free to watch the Potter boy. As the Will ended though, he became increasingly concerned as the wizard in question started to sway slightly and then, much to Griphook’s alarm, drop to the floor in a dead faint. The snowy owl in the cage by the door began to screech, frantic to get to her master.
The last thought Harry had as his vision blacked out was that he didn’t know if Snape would have been any better then the Dursley’s.